#the above tag is supposed to be lean not lead

[bluetimeombre]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° Call it what you want to, part two

[people actually liked it!!! and i loved it so here's more. p.s, i love tom blyth ever since i watched ballad of songbirds and snakes (four times in cinema) and i've loved timothee from the beginning and that's something nobody can take away from me!!!! also, i have nothing against kylie, i do not keep up with the kardashians so i can't say anything, but let's just imagine....]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... yourusername, rachelzegler, jacobelordi, hunterscahfer & others

tomblyth: hermes camp!

tagged: yourusername

781k likes 309k comments

user: they're together omg!

user: it's happening, it's happening !!!

user: what is a hermes camp?

yourusername: personally i'm more of an ares girl but i'll take it

user: PLS

user: she's just like us

user: they're literally in love

user: IM OBSESSED WITH YOU

user: i thought she was supposed to be in london

user: there's a thing called a plane

user: TOM I LOVE YOU

user: he's so bf ahhhhh

user: do you think she's leading tom on and then gonna go for timmy

user: parents!!!

user: pls be together, i can't be a child of divorce again

user: yourusername i love you!!

user: tchalamet

user: tchamalet

user: tchamalet

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

you are calling... 'timothee chalamet'

you: timmy help me i'm so lost and my phone is on 2%

timothee *laughing*: what do you mean? where are you?

you: i have literally no idea, i went to get breakfast

timothee: whaaaat, i went to get us breakfast

you *walking around london looking very lost* well you didn't tell me that

timothee *smiling fondly at you, but you couldn't see as you were looking around the streets* i did, i told you last night i'd get you your favourite

you: there was nobody in the hotel and i didn't know what to do. timothee please tell me you have a portable charger

timothee: i have a spare one for you

you: thank you! you're a star- omg i almost got hit my a black cab

timothee: hey, where are you?

you: i don't know, i think i've gone in a massive circle. should i get a taxi back to the hotel?

timothee *who had gotten excited to see you*: no! no-urm- oh hey, wait a minute hold on

you: my phone is on 2% please! *but you hold on, watching- or more so listening- as timothee greets what you assume was a fan, he keeps his phone on, and you're smiling at the screen (and pulling the occasional face) whilst you wait. he quickly hugs the fan and pulls his phone back out to talk to you* mr hollywood!

timothee: shut up, ok where are you?

you: i think i'm like *you look around you, missing timothee grabbing a quick screenshot of your facetime* i'm by _______

timothee: ok, i know where that is, or i think i do. wait there, i'll come to you

you: oh! there's a cafe, i'll get a coffee

timothee: i've got you one here!

you: i can drink two, i promise

you put the phone down, wanting to keep whatever battery you had and ordered yourself a coffee, taking a seat by the window. you were just lucky you had your journal to keep you satisfy while you wait for timothee to somehow find you.

(little did you know he was literally jogging to meet you in the cafe with a dying phone.)

you were half way through your coffee when the bell above the door rang and he walked in. you hadn't realised, leaning over the journal and scribbling away.

timothee noticed you- it was a relatively small cafe for london. he snapped a shot of you before quietly coming up behind you. he took his cap off, throwing it on your hair.

'you could've been anyone!' you say, closing your journal and turning to him.

'morning!' he grinned taking the seat across from you and shuffling in. 'how did you get lost?'

'there was nobody in the hotel and they said you'd gone out ten minutes ago, i didn't know you could get so far in ten minutes!'

timothee slid a bag over to you. 'i got your favourites.'

you had no idea how to act around timothee. working with him was fun, easy, you guys get along great. but after filming and after you'd been on another set and done separate things, it felt different. you guys weren't in your own little worlds anymore. you were with tom blyth and he was perfect, and then timothee would do small things, give you his jumper or his cap or pick up things he specifically knew you liked. but he had a girlfriend, he had kylie jenner! there was no way he was doing this in hopes of gaining your attention. maybe it was just how he was with friends.

'you didn't have to do that,' you said, taking off his hat and putting it between you two.

he shrugged, leaning over again. 'what? c'mon, course i did. it's a big day.'

it was premier day. wonka was premiering in london. this was your third premier, but was sure to be one of the biggest.

timothee grinned at you, watching your lips quip up. he pulled out a portable charger from his pocket, offering it to you. truth is, five minutes ago he didn't have one but when you told him you needed one, on the way to meet you he grabbed one.

suddenly, the barista approached your table and you grabbed the bag, thinking she was going to tell you guys off for bringing in food and drinks from somewhere else.

'I'm so sorry, i'm a big fan,' she said.

you laugh, throwing him his hat as he blushed madly at being caught. 'i told you! you can't go anywhere!'

timothee greeted the fan warmly before also introducing you. then, she recognised you too. it was still new to you, being known and people asking for pictures or something to be signed, but you were more than happy to oblige.

and the pictures came out. a few of the two of you with fans and in some, maybe a lot, maybe even most, timothee was looking over at you.

user1: GUYS I LITERALY MET tchalamet AND yourusername THEY WERE SO SWEET AND LOVLEY

301 likes 100 comments

user: OMG LUCKY

user: were they on a date???

user1: noooo, i think they were just meeting up

user: they always look so good

user: imagine just going to work and meeting THEM

user1: they were so cute, timothee literally brought her breakfast, saying he got her favourites which means he knows her favourites, like that's goals right there!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... zendaya, tomholland2013, florencepugh, kidcudi, yourusername & others

tchalamet: WONKA IN LONDON!

tagged: yourusername

1.2m likes 901k comments

user: style icon!!

user: does he realise there's other people but yourusername in the movie?

user: OMG I SAW YOU TONIGHT

user: can't believe i missed it!!

user: the last picture !!!!

user: WHY IS NOBDOY TALKING ABOUT THE LAST PICTURE???!!! THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER

user: yourusername is stronger than me, if timothee looked at me like that i would melt

tomholland2013: looking good mate, can't wait to see the film!

tchalamet: thank you brother, lunch soon 🙏🙏

user: tomholland2013, ariana, what are you doing here

user: he put a whole post up just for her

user: I WANT YOU SO BAD

user: her dress, stunning!!!!

user: he's literally so in love with her

user: ARE THEY DATING?

user: he's with kylie!!!

user: apparently she was there last night

user: she's stronger than me, i would not let my man look at another woman like that

user: is ship it

user: is this movie a god damn musical?

user: how can she be with tom one minute then timothee the next

user: EVERYONE PLS THEY'RE LITERALY FRIENDS, TIMOTHEE MAKES FRIENDS WITH ALL HIS CO-STARS

user: friends do not look at each other like THAT

user: they'd literaly be the hottest couple in hollywood

user: power couple

user: ❤️

user: <<33

user: yourshipname

liked by... oliviarodrigo, tomblyth, tomholland2013, tchalamet, gracieabrams & others

yourusername: wonka, london! thank you so much for all the love on the movie. i want you all to love daisy as much as i do! and thank you gucci for the dress and making me one step closer to harry styles x

1.1m likes 701k comments

user: SHE'S SO FUNNY WHAT

user: GORGEOUS

user: OMG

user: 🔥🔥🔥

user: the last picture is my new screen saver thank you

user: HOW DOES SHE GET THAT CLOSE TO TIMOTHEE

user: HAWT

rachelzegler: the prettiest girl ever

yourusername: stfu, don't make me kiss you

user: first tom, now timothee, next she'll get harry

user: GUCCI OMG SLAY

user: my mother everybody, my mother

user: flawless

user: ur so beautiful

tomblyth: beautiful

yourusername liked tomblyth's comment

tchalamet: afterparty!!!

yourusername: dude, get through the premier first

wonkamovie: we love daisy!

user: timmy is literaly in love with you

user: plssss date timmy

user: i love youuuuu

user: wonka sucked!

user: slut!

yourusername: great song by taylor swift

taylorswift liked yourusername's comment

user: collaboration of gucci between harrystyles and yourusername when?

user: is hugh grant cgi in this movie or can he actually just do that?

yourusername: no cgi went into the making of this movie

user: she's so funny for what!!!!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

'Timothee Chalamet!' he had been yelled at all night, by fans, by press, by anyone and everyone. he'd already posed for cast pictures, getting in a huge line, holding onto each other and taking the pictures.

so what if he had reached across the director, paul king's, back to hold onto your arm. and surely nobody would notice if he looked over to gage your reaction and see you smile at him. it wasn't like there were hundreds of camera's around him snapping a shot of every moment.

he headed over to the woman who had called his name, pausing by the barrier to say hello. 'yes ma'am.'

'woah, don't you look amazing, as always. first of, who are you wearing tonight, you know i got to ask!' she said.

'this is my man tom, tom ford,' he answered, laughing awkwardly at the end. 'i almost went gucci- it was almost gucci, but i couldn't do that to harry.'

'you look good either way, have you had much time with your co-stars so far tonight?'

'yea i mean, i've seen hugh, spent some time with keegan, love to see the man. we all got some photos-'

his attention and the press's attention is distracted when you stroll up to answer some questions not far from him, close enough to see how radiant you look close up. his lips turned into a smile, his arm hovering somewhere between a wave and a nudge to try to get your attenstion.

'oh woah,' might have slipped past his lips as the press held the microphone up to his lips.

'doesn't she just look fantastic?' she asked.

'hell yea!' timothee smiled, focusing back on the interview, 'always.'

'now i know you got to go soon, so just one final question, would you like a bit of chocolate?'

his face lit up. 'chocolate, oh my god i would love some, thank you. can i take two?' he asked, knowing what he'd do with the other. he was offered two little chocolates and quickly said goodbye. instead of heading into the theatre, he headed for you.

as you were chatting with the press, he didn't want to interrupt. instead, he slipped by, gently touching your arm and reaching over to whisper: 'i'll wait for you,'. but your camera caught your blush and the way you couldn't answer properly after that.

once you were done with your questions, timothee was still there waiting for you. he hugged you immediately, rubbing your arms as goosebumps rose on them. of course he'd think it's from the winter evening, when it had everything to do with him.

'you look amazing, timothee!' you gush, pulling back.

'me? look at you, you're so beautiful!' he said, keeping a hold on your arm.

'oh shut up.'

the camera's flashes were brighter, bigger and the shouts increased as they caught pictures of the two of you. but neither of you would stop for pictures, heading into the cinema.

'here.' he gave you the other little chocolate and the two of you un-wrapped them, popping them into your mouths. 'at least you didn't get lost this time.,' he joked.

you rolled your eyes.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

user: omg it's happening, it's happening

user: AHHHHHHHHHH

user: mom and dad just hard launched their relationship

user: rue, when was this?!

user: a couple days ago, after the wonka press tour and the premiers, they were seen at dinner together and making out!

user: i'm so happy

user: real life lucy-grey and coryo

user: FINALY OMG

user: what about timmy :((((( he's so in love with her

user: he has a gf

user: i feel bad for timmy

user: THE THIRD PICTURE HELLO? WHY DOES MY MAN KISS LIKE HE'S STARVING

user: he only kisses her like that

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

liked by... tomblyth, oliviarodrigo, louispartrdige_, lola.tung & others

yourusername: i love british boys (i'm literally just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her)

706k likes 201k comments

user: hard launch who?

user: they're so cute i can't

user: the caption, so real

user: omg it's so funny, do you think hugh has seen this?

user: she's back in london!!!

user: i love them please they're so cute

tomblyth: and i'm literally going to run into your press conference and ask you to be with me forever

yourusername: i'm sitting right next to you, clearly you're running nowhere

user: STOP they're so cute

user: i miss her and timmy!

user: notting hill!! she knows taste

user: i want her and timmy together

user: tom and her were made for each other, like have you seen their interviews

user: funny how timothee doesn't like pictures when it's featuring tom but he'll literally like all of her other pictures

liked by... yourusername, gq, tayrussell, emmawatson, selenagomez & others

tchalamet: thank you london! and thank you for making me a (honorary) british boy!

1.2m likes 771k comments

user: petty king!

user: plssss!! not after yourusername's post

user: he's so obessed with her i can't

user: i chose to believe yourusername took the first pic of him, it's laterally from the premier

user: COME BACK TO LONDON SOON

user: bring back little timmy tim!!!!

user: you were amazing in wonka!!

user: OMG MY MAN IS NOMINATED FOR A GOLDEN GLOBE

user: GOLDEN GLOBES BABY

user: i have the wonka soundtrack stuck in my head

user: is that yourusername in the last pic?

user: i love him!

user: marry me

user: omg he's so regulus black

user: how does he look good no matter what

user: DONT BE A FOOL AND GO GET YOUR GIRL TIMMY

user: in interviews, yourusername has literally said timmy is her celeb crush, girl same

user: how do you feel about tomblyth and yourusername?

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

582 likes

[comments restricted]

user: update, he follows one person on instragram and it's yourusername

[skbeaumont]

"You Should Probably Leave" | Joel x Reader oneshot

Part 1 of Play it Again, a new series where each story is a oneshot, but all are shaped around country songs.

Song: You Should Probably Leave – Chris Stapleton Summary: He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late. And then when he gets home you help him out, too, even though you both know you should probably leave. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, porn without plot, prose but kind of poetry/lyrical, sexual tension, PIV, oral (m! receiving), sub!Joel, you're Sarah's babysitter, AU! No outbreak, set in the 90s. Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I've taken the lyrics and worked them into the story, so I'd really recommend listening as you read. I've been thinking about writing this series for sooo long because country songs + Joel is a match made in heaven. If you've got any song recommendations, let me know!

It’s like a dance, a well-worn routine that you both know, practised and perfected after months of repetitions. You both know where it leads but you’ll still follow all the steps. That’s how it is.

You put Sarah to bed ages ago, spent the last few hours of babysitting on the sofa finishing up some college work, waiting for Joel to get back. His key in the door is a familiar click, the latch sticking the way it always does, his shoulder forcing it open.

You stay where you are. When he comes into the lounge his toolbelt is still strapped around his waist, the remnants of a long day’s work painted across his handsome face and strewn in dust that’s collected on the knees of his well-worn jeans and callused hands.

He pauses in the entrance, arm stretched up above him to rest on the mantle of the door, t-shirt pulling up to reveal a strip of tanned skin above his belt. There’s a glass of wine half-drunk on the coffee table beside you and your feet are tucked up under you.

Neither of you speak for several long moments. You just watch each other, the tension too delicious to break.

“You should probably leave,” He says, but you make no effort to move and he stays where he is, too, dark eyes watching you.

His expression is open, taunting, and you already know what’s going to happen. You untuck your feet and shift them onto the worn carpet, standing to step towards him. His form takes up most of the doorway, his shoulders so broad that they almost touch both sides of the frame.

When you reach it he’s looming over you, blocking the exit off from you if you wanted to leave, but you don’t. You turn into him, press your nose to the slice of skin between his shoulder and neck and inhale deeply, smell the work of his day on him: the musk of sweat, the tang of iron and sharpness of wood shavings.

“I suppose it ain’t all that late,” he says, voice rumbling through his chest, “still time for you to finish your wine.”

You won’t finish the wine, but it’s all part of the well-worn routine the two of you have. He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late.

And then when he gets home you help him out, too. Let him relieve some of the tension that he carries in his shoulders, on his thick-set jaw. You press the first kiss here, letting the rough caress of his stubble eat into your own cheek. When you let your hands course through his hair, scratching your nails into his scalp, he leans into it, eyebrows pitching up, something like a whimper falling from his lips.

There’s a devil on your shoulders, and its urging you each towards the same predetermined end.

“We shouldn’t.” He says, but he doesn’t move away.

“Just one kiss?” You ask, feeling him relax into your touch, the bulk of him slipping down the doorframe, bringing his mouth within reach of yours.

“Alright,” He rasps back, his voice pitching with need, and you claim the last syllable with your mouth, press your lips against his, pull a moan from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Say you want me to stay,” You tell him, and he does, whispers it into your mouth, chases your tongue with his.

When he looks at you his gaze so intense it’s almost intimidating, and you recognise the look in his eyes, the need that’s behind the blown-out pupils and hazy expression.

The slow retreat to his bedroom is well-practised, the carpet belying a well-trodden route you both know. He lets you walk him backwards up the stairs, sighs when you push him against the closed door to fit your mouths together again.

Inside, his bed is unmade and you press him into it, pin his hands above his head and lick a thick strip up his neck, following the tendons to the underside of his jaw.

His moans are the chorus of this well-rehearsed dance. They spur you on as you undress him, revealing the strong lines of his chest, the thick trunks of his thighs, the impressive bulge of his cock in his briefs, already half-hard.

He twitches in your hand when you draw him out and you shift down the bed to take him into your mouth, the head of him heavy and salty on your tongue. His cock swells, the vein that spans the underside pulsing against your palm.

It’s intoxicating and dizzying and familiar, the recognisable ache in your jaw as you take him into the back of your throat, fist gripping the part of him that won’t fit.

“So good to me, darlin’” He groans, running shaking fingers through your hair, trying to sit up against the headboard.

“Relax,” you tell him, pushing him back down to lie against the rumpled duvet, “I know what you need.”

You know him and he knows you, and you both know how this goes. You pull back, work your dress up over your head and pull down your panties, which are ruined with your slick, so damp they catch on your thighs as you peel them off. Joel’s eyes widen as he watches; he can never believe you want this – want him – as much as you do.

When you sink down on his length – the fat head of his cock catching at your entrance, making the stretch delicious and white-hot – he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

You run a finger along his eyebrows, coax him to open them and he does, a muscle in his jaw fluttering as you rise up and drag your cunt back down onto him again.

“I wanna do the right thing, baby,” he tells you, as though this – the pinching heat of him between your thighs, the tremble of his hands as he clutches at the flesh of your ass – isn’t the greatest thing that’s ever happened to either of you.

But you know he hates himself for it, hates that he’s a good decade older than you, that you’re Sarah’s babysitter, that this – this twisted arrangement you have where you stay when he gets back and then end up in his bed – is the only thing that gets him through those long works days sometimes.

“I know,” you say, “but it’s getting kind of hard to resist, isn’t it?”

“You should leave,” he says, thrusting up into you, “we should – Jesus, baby, just like that – we should stop.”

You arch up off the bed, tilting your hips so that he can drive his cock deeper, bottoming out and groaning brokenly into your ear. It’s filthy. Depraved, probably: The slap of his hips as he cants them up into yours, the breathy moans that tumble from your mouth, Joel’s desperate, needy curses.

It’s easy to make him come like this: Three steady, deliberate rolls of your hips and he’s a quivering mess beneath you, his hands fisting in the sheets as he spurts hot and wet inside you.

After, you tell him you should probably leave. He makes you come with his fingers first, tells you to finish your wine, that it still ain’t that late.

And when the sun’s on your skin at 6am, he’s there watching you sleep, hoping you’ll say you’ll stay, even though you should probably leave.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Dirty Thoughts

Wanda X Reader 18+

Summary- While babysitting the twins, Wanda is left to listen to all the sinful thoughts of her flickering through your mind.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Oral sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstimulation, Dom/sub undertones, Bottom Wanda/Top Reader, Dirty thoughts, Age difference, Sexual Tension, Face-sitting, Fingering, Grinding, Implied/reference cheating, Fluff and Smut

General Master List

W/c- 4.3k

---

"Prepare to lose Tommy," you tease, stretching your arms above your head in a joking manner, twisting your body to warm up for the most important event ever.

"There's no way I'm going to lose to an old person," he sticks his tongue out at you, a gasp leaving you at his insult.

" Old? I'm twenty-one," you splash a bit of the water at him earning a chuckle from Billy from the side of the pool.

"Exactly, old." You roll your eyes at the boy, turning and getting yourself into position for the race. You couldn't back down from the silly remark Tommy made, declaring he could swim faster than you, which now led to a race happening between you two. Billy was to watch from the side lines, judging who would win the race and ending the debate.

"On your marks, get set," Billy dragged out the starting call, laughing at how serious you and his brother were taking this. "GO!" he called, and you both started. Being older than the boy by around ten years helped as you quickly took the lead. You probably should have gone easy on him, but you were too competitive to do that. You looked behind you to see him trying to catch up, a look of determination on his face making you laugh. You were nearly halfway across the pool when you heard a mischievous laugh erupt from your side. "Sabotage!" Billy screamed, jumping onto your back, the air being kicked out of your lungs as you went underwater with the added weight. You gasped for breath when you reached the surface, Billy like a koala clinging onto your back as you tried to continue the race.

At the sound of shouting, Wanda came outside after just arriving back from work to see the chaotic scene unfold in front of her. A smile took over her face as she watched Billy try and halt your movements while Tommy swam past you, your arms trying a last-ditch effort to win the race by grabbing at his legs but failing. She took a seat in one of the longue chairs outside, laying back to admire the race.

"I win!" Tommy pants out, just about reaching the other end of the pool before you despite his brother on your back. Billy remained clinging onto you as you stood up in the water, wiping your face and trying to push some of your wet hair out of your eyes. You watched as the boys high fived over you, Billy's arm quickly wrapping around you when he pulled back as he was scared to fall off you.

"You cheated," your face in disbelief as you held onto the boy who ruined your chances of winning.

"I didn't do anything," Tommy taunted, looking at the boy on your back with a triumphant look. You shook your head at the cheek of the boy, chuckling at how happy he was and giving in.

"Fine, you win," he immediately erupted into cheers along with his brother. You decided you had enough of Billy at the moment and playfully leaned backwards.

"No, no," he rushed out as he hovered over the water, his grip on you increasing. Standing up straight, he sighed in relief before his eyes widened when you squatted down, submerging both of you in the water. You came up quickly and he let go of you, swimming over to where his brother was so you couldn't do it again.

"You deserved that Billy," a voice spoke from the side, all three of you look over to see Wanda watching with an amused look.

"Mom," he complained, "You're supposed to be on my side." Both you and Wanda chuckled at him making him turn around to talk to his brother, pretending to ignore you both.

You climbed out of the pool, letting the water drip off your toned body and walked over to where Wanda was. Her eyes briefly scanned your body before you could notice and watched as you flopped down onto the chair next to her. She let silence wash over the two of you and returned her gaze to her boys in the pool, the only sound your quiet pants as you recovered from the race and being jumped on.

You look over at Wanda and couldn't help but stare. She was beautiful, absolutely breath-taking and seeing her in that light summer dress made your thoughts run wild.

You sent the boys inside, making sure you and Wanda were alone before crawling on top of her. She sent a sultry smirk up at you, her hands ghosting your sides as you leaned down to press your lips to hers. A sinful sound escaped her throat, moaning into the kiss as your knee came in contact with her core. Pressing harder against her, she started to grind her hips against your knee, her dress hitching upwards to expose her thighs.

"Please," she sighed out as you pulled back from the kiss to mark her neck. Her hands clawed at your back as her hips moved against you, pleas tumbling out of her mouth. Your kisses moved to her neck then lower, worshiping the exposed parts of her breasts with small bites and open-mouthed kisses. The sounds she was making were intoxicating, making you addicted to trying the pull them out of her. "Fuck," she groaned, her accent coming out as she lost herself in the pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," you mutter while returning to crash your lips to hers. She whines into you, your tongue exploring her mouth while her hips move frantically against your knee.

"I'm so close," she moans, her hands moving to grasp at your toned arms that were supporting you upright.

"Do you want to come for me?" you husked out earning another whimper from her along with a nod, "Beg me."

"Please," her voice dripping with desperation, "I've been so good and I'm so close. You're making me feel so good so please let me come." You chuckled against her lips at her needy state and continued to press your leg down onto her core.

"Come for me," you rasped out before her body tensed and her orgasm ripped through her. A guttural moan erupted from the back of her throat as her body fell back against the chair. You kissed down her neck towards her chest before venturing lower and hovering at the bottom of her dress. Your hands itched upwards toward her soaking core, a finger running over the wet fabric of her panties. You moved-

A choked cough from your side knocked you out of your fantasy, Wanda on the other chair seeming to clear her throat with a blush painted across her cheeks. You quickly placed your hand on her back to see if she was ok, the skin hot under your touch as she looked at you with slightly darkened pupils.

"Are you alright?" your voice was concerned at the way she was acting but she quickly dismissed it.

"I'm fine," her voice a little breathless but you assumed that was from coughing. "It felt like there was something in my throat," you didn't fully believe her but pushed it to the side when refused to meet your eyes.

Soon the boys came running over, asking for you to play with them again, well, they more dragged you away, but it was fine. You jumped into the pool, the boys following straight after you, leaving Wanda to deal with what had just happened.

Wanda felt confused as she watched you innocently play with her boys as if you didn't just think of fucking her right here on the chair. She couldn't help but listen into your mind, your thoughts racing as you imagined her body squirming under you, being brought to pleasure again and again. She had heard your thoughts before, but they were smaller comments that flattered her, maybe making her heart flutter by the way you thought them, not anything like this before. You looked different in her eyes now, the idea of you wanting to dominant her sending a thrill down her body, especially between her legs. You were always attractive to Wanda but now she felt this urge of want for you as she heard how much you desired to her. She tried to push these thoughts away as she stood on shaky legs, making her way towards the kitchen to start dinner.

Later on, you found yourself stood by the sofa as the twins laid down, taking up most of the cushions and leaving you no room to sit. To be fair, you probably weren't supposed to be there, your babysitting hours over ages ago but when Wanda asked you to stay for dinner and a movie, you couldn't resist. Both boys cheekily smiled up at you and you rolled your eyes at their antics.

Vision sat on the armchair that was next to the sofa with the boys and Wanda, the woman squeezed on as her boys refused to move.

"Come on," Wanda's voice in mother mode, "Make some room for Y/n." They groaned but remained the way they were, and you chuckled before making your way around the sofa.

"It's alright I'll just sit on the floor," you said, taking a seat in front of where Wanda was sat. "Do you mind if I lean back?" you ask while looking over your shoulder, a smirk on your face as you look at her. Not trusting her words, she nods at you, and you move to rest against the sofa, her legs dangling next to your shoulders as you make yourself comfortable. You stick your tongue out at the boys, leaning your head back between Wanda's legs to put your head on the gap on the sofa. You moved your gaze over to Wanda who looked at you with a curious look as a mischievous expression took over your face. "So, Mom ," you teased the older woman making her roll her eyes. "What film are we going to watch?"

"Well," she leaned forwards and ran her fingers through your hair, ruffling it up as a joke making you pout at her, "It's Billy's turn to choose so it's up to him." Her eyes stayed trained on you as you craned your head back to look at her, the sight of her still stunning even upside down. You moved to face the Tv as Billy chose a film and tried to ignore the way your body craved for her to run her fingers through your hair again.

Vision sat with a small scowl on his face, not a huge fan of you as you always somehow caught his wife's attention. He knew he was away a lot for work but when he came back, he wanted to spend time with his family, yet you were always there.

Soon everyone seemed to be engrossed in the film, but you couldn't shake the thought of Wanda.

What would it feel like with her thighs wrapped around your head? Her smooth skin encased around you as you kissed her inner thighs, teasing her and making her squirm on top of you. She could be a wet shaking mess as you edge her again and again, leaving her to beg you to make her come. Opposingly, you could have her seated on your face, hands gripping at your hair while she screams your name all night long as you make her come as many times as possible. How many times would you be able to make her come in one night? Would she be able to squirt if you-

A low moan from behind you disrupted your thoughts, yours and Visions attention going to Wanda as she flushed red, the twins too busy with what was happening on the screen to notice. The older woman couldn't stop the sound that escaped her at your thoughts. The idea of being give an orgasm would have been satisfactory for her, Vision being careless about her during sex, while you wanted her to do it as many times as possible. She subtly clenched her thighs together, desperate to relieve the heat building there.

"Are you alright dear?" Vision asked while you continued to look up at her from your seat on the carpet. She avoided your intense gaze, not wanting the idea of you below her at the moment and cleared her throat.

"Yes, I'm fine," she dismissed, trying to quickly think of an excuse to cover up the noise.

"Are you sure?" he looked at her with a quizzical look, her mouth opening before the sound of his phone ringing cut her off. "Sorry I need to take this," he leaves the room answering the phone and you turn your gaze back onto the film, trying to understand what was going on as you missed part of it with your thoughts of a certain person.

A few minutes later Vision returned, a small bag packed with him as he rushed around the room.

"I'm sorry but I have to go to London for a meeting about a new deal with a large investor," his words made the boys frown, complaints about how he's always away for work spilling out of their mouths. He quickly says goodbyes to them, kissing each of them on their foreheads along with a short peck on the cheek to Wanda. The door shut with a small thud; the twins sad at how he had gone. You tried to cheer them up while Wanda walked outside to try and catch her husband. Looking at the time, you asked them if they were ready for bed, their heads nodding as they had lost interest in the movie. It didn't take long to get them into bed as they were already in their pyjamas, tucking them in so they were comfortable and able to drift off.

When you arrived back to the living room you saw Wanda sat by herself, eyes moving off the screen towards you. Offering a small smile, you sat next to her and started to watch the film when she spoke up.

"I need to have a word with you about something," her voice was nervous and that caused a small panic inside you. "It's probably going to sound stupid but-"

"Nothing you say is stupid, Wanda," you reassure despite being anxious about what she wants to talk to you about.

"I can read minds," she says, eyes watching you and waiting for you to burst out in laughter, but you don't, you just look at her trying to understand what's going on, "And I've been hearing your thoughts recently as they've been quite loud." Your face pales momentarily, knowing how sinful your thoughts about her have been. Your mouth opens and closes, trying to say something but not sure what to but she speaks before you can. "They were...flattering" your eyes hesitantly meet hers and when you see the blush on her cheeks and how her eyes darken you don't feel as anxious. "They um made me feel..." she trailed off, clenching her thighs together which you notice, the action making your lips twitch into a smirk.

"How did my thoughts make you feel?" you purred out, confidence running through you as you watched her attempting to keep her composure. The blush on her cheeks deepened and you moved a hand slowly to her face, giving her time to move away if she wanted, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was her turn to be speechless, her body focussing how close your body was to her, your hand lingering to cup her cheek. "Did you like them?" your hand moved from her face to her thigh, squeezing gently while leaning closer to her face.

"Yes," she whispered out shyly, your lips millimetres away from hers causing her gaze to lower.

"What did you like about them?" her brain was clouded by arousal as you teased her lips, a shaky sigh leaving her when you bit your lip in anticipation of her answer.

"They made me feel so," she dragged out her words, removing her gaze from your lips to your eyes to tell you why she liked them, "Wanted, hot, wet ." You let out a small groan at her words and moved your hand up further on her thigh, her breath hitching.

"Can I kiss you?" she answered your question by crashing her lips to yours, her hands moving to your shoulders to keep you close. You bit her lip and dragged it back gently before delving in for another kiss, this time exploring her mouth with your tongue earning a groan in response. Her body moves forwards, straddling your lap as she tilts her head down to move her mouth against yours. Her hands return to your hair like you wanted, nails scratching at your scalp while her hips softly grind down.

"Shit," she muttered when your hands glided over her stomach and brushed the underside of her breasts through the summer dress she was still wearing. A smirk engraved itself on your lips as you placed kisses from her ear to her jaw, venturing down her neck and sucking faint red marks into the soft skin. Your hands gently cupped her breasts, a sigh leaving her lips, and squeezed softly.

"Please," the tone of her voice sending a shiver down your spine at how desperate she already sounded. You chuckled at her collar bones, determined in kissing every inch of skin exposed to you and worked your fingers at stimulating her nipples. You could feel them harden under your fingertips and pulled on them earning a loud gasp and a harsher grind of her hips in your lap.

You looked up briefly to see her biting her lip, trying to contain her sounds as the way her hips were moving against you meant the fabric was brushing against her clit in the most perfect way. Your hands left her breasts and ran down her body to reach the hem of the dress. Your eyes asked the question if this was alright to which she nodded at and moved her hands to pull the dress over her head.

"Wow," you murmured while scanning over her exposed body, the sight of her breasts making your mouth water. She chuckled at your awed expression but that swiftly turned into a moan when you took a nipple into your mouth and sucked. You alternated between sucking and licking around the sensitive flesh, one of your hands mimicking the actions on the other breast while your other hand rested on her hips, guiding her movements. Her hips started to move more frantically as she neared her orgasm, her breathing becoming more laboured as she desperately moved against you.

"I'm- Fuck," her hips stuttered and legs tensed around you as a guttural moan erupted from her throat. You let go of her breast with a pop and moved to muffle her sounds with a bruising kiss. She whimpered against you as she rode out her high, her panties now well and truly soaked.

"That's one," you rasp out, her eyes fluttering open as you kissed around her face. "I didn't even need to use my hands," you teased, "I wonder how hard I can make you come with them." You returned to her chest, worshipping them while your hands drifted to her thighs to caress them. Lightly, you trailed your finger up and down her dripping panties, her hips bucking at the touch, and slowly started to circle her clit through the wet fabric.

"Y/n," she whines, hands clutching at the back of your shirt. You shush her by going back to her lips, the faint reminiscent of wine on her lips addictive.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," you mutter before moving her panties to the side and slipping a finger through her folds. She moans into your mouth at the feeling, your finger teasing her entrance.

"Please," she begs quietly in between kisses making you thrust your finger into her. Her walls clench around the digit, her hips moving to grind down on your hand as you slowly thrust it in and out, curling it inside her. You can't help the groan that leaves your lips when Wanda moves to suck at your neck in attempt of hiding her moans. Her teeth nip at the hot flesh and her hands scratch your back through the fabric of your shirt. You add another finger into her and start a leisurely pace of pumping them into her which slowly drives her mad. All she can feel is you, the skin under her mouth as she marks you, one of your hands gripping her ass while the other is buried knuckle deep inside her, slowly dragging another orgasm out of her.

"Faster," she pleas, her hips practically trying to ride your fingers to reach her high. You listen to her and increase your pace whilst moving your other hand to circle at her clit. Her walls tighten around you as her body tenses on top of you again. To muffle the scream that leaves her lips, she bites down hard on your shoulder, the sound still reverberating around the room as she comes for a second time. Pants of breath fill the room as she closes her eyes and leans her forehead against yours, trying to stop her body from trembling.

"That's two," you whisper earning a breathless laugh and a smile. You let her recover and wait for her to set the pace again as her mouth slowly moves against yours before the kiss turns hungry and passionate. You let her take control for a few minutes, her tongue exploring your mouth while her hands searched your body. When she pulled back because air was necessary, you moved to nibble on her ear lobe and husked, "I want a taste," before moving your body so you were on your back on the sofa, her still straddling your waist.

Your earlier thoughts came to mind when you looked up at her, Wanda's mind racing as she remembered how you wanted her to sit on your face while you brought her pleasure. She stood briefly to remove her drenched panties, her fully naked now in front of you and climbed onto you so she could hover above your face. Your eyes were lust filled as you stared at her core, her wetness dripping and coating her thighs causing you to stifle a groan at the sight.

When she lowered herself onto your face, you both moaned at the action. The feeling of your mouth of her pussy sent waves of pleasure through her while you couldn't help but moan at the taste of her. Eagerly, you took her clit into your mouth and sucked at the sensitive flesh. Her hands threaded through your hair, encouraging you to continue eating her out by gently trying to move you where she wanted. Eventually, you flattened your tongue and just let her grind against it, her hips thrusting at your face in search of another orgasm. It didn't take long for her to be on edge again and her moans turned to whimpers as the coil in her stomach snapped. She came with a silent scream this time, hands gripping your hair making you moan into her, the vibrations prolonging her high.

"Three," you murmured while kissing and licking up her juices around her thighs and core. She panted above you, smiling down at you as you lathered her in affection. She motioned to get off your face, her body tired and sensitive but you wrapped your arms around her thighs keeping her sat on your face. "Come on," you mutter against her core, the hot breath causing her hips to move subconsciously, "I know you can do one more." Your tone was low and sultry making a new wave of arousal sit in her core. "Your body is basically begging for it," you taunt, noticing how her hips were already moving closer to your face. "Is this ok?" her face softens as you check she's comfortable and she nods in response. Yes, her body was tired from three powerful orgasms already, but the image of you between her legs and teasing her was too big an opportunity to miss out on.

Your hands stroked the soft skin of her thighs, feeling how they trembled under your touch while your tongue licked through her folds. You teased her briefly before thrusting your tongue into her, groaning at the feeling of her wrapped around you. You wasted no time in swirling your tongue inside her and thrusting it in and out of her. She moaned on top of you, hands groping at her chest while she moved across your face. After repeating the motion a few times, she came with a small cry, her throat becoming hoarse from moaning so much. Her thighs shook around your head, so you soothingly moved your hands across them to let her calm down and counted once again, "Four."

"I can't feel my legs," she whispered from above making you chuckle as they still spasmed slightly around you. You helped her move off your face and onto the sofa so she was laying down. Her green eyes stared at you as you collected her scattered clothes and threw them into the washing machine in the kitchen before returning with a soft smile.

"Are you alright?" you whispered while tucking your arms under her to carry her to her room as she yawned. She hummed in response, her eyes fluttering close as her body wanted reset and you placed her in bed before wrapping the duvet around her.

"Stay, please," she sleepily whispered. You listened to her drowsy request and climbed in behind her, wrapping your arm around her middle and cuddling her. It didn't take long for both of you to tangle under the sheets, locked in an embrace, and drift off to sleep.

---

Have I ever been sabotaged in a swimming race like this before? Yes, yes I have and I'm still salty about it 

I hope you enjoyed :)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3 They're much appreciated!

Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger 

[ghostsstolemymoxie]

A request here for smut! enemies to lovers hot hate sex on a mission then people over the intercom back at the mansion here oops 🤭

AHHH OK I love this ideaaaa, just hoping I did it justice <3

【You're so gorgeous - then you start talkin'!】

Logan x F! Reader - Enemies to lovers: Hatefuck edition Divider credit @cafekitsune Tags: No use of Y/n, explicit content (18+, MDNI), unprotected p in v (be smarter than Logan and reader folks), rough sex, spitting, unintentional voyeurism, accidental exhibitionism Please don't click read more unless you're over 18 and willing to see 18+ content and the above tagged content. WC: 3k words

"He's the most arrogant, boorish, misogynistic, vile bastard I have ever met in my life!" You hissed down the comms, trying very hard to hide the scowl etched into your features. "Yes, but he's also your partner on this mission," Ororo replied, calmly, her voice crackling somewhat as it travelled into your ear through the wireless bud for your communications.

All around you, all you could hear was chatter, laughter and bawdy noises.

Serves you right, really. After all, you'd been so desperate to get back into the swing of things and get onto the missions since your injury, you had begged Charles to assign you the next mission, not even caring what it was.

Lo and behold, it leads to you and Logan being sent out on an intel-gathering mission at a casino just by the Canadian border. All you needed to do was listen out for some plan to do with Sentinels being built. Charles had been stingy with the details, though you weren't quite sure why. You supposed he'd given the brief more to Logan - the experienced X-man.

As though summoned by your distasteful thoughts, Logan soon joined you in the casino, already holding a glass in his hand. Whiskey, no doubt, with plenty of ice. He stepped up alongside you, glancing you up and down and taking in your black-tie attire with a smirk on his face. "You scrub up nice. Makes sense. You're only here as arm candy." He grumbled, taking a sip of his whiskey. In truth, it was a wonder that his muscles didn't burst free from the white suit he was wearing, but this was no time for gawking at the wonderful body attached to this awful man. "Has anyone ever told you that you're the worst person they've ever met?" You mock, even as you follow him to one of the tables. "Has anyone told you that you've got a smart mouth? That's not an attractive quality in a lady, y'know." Logan's retort was fast and icy, barbed in a way that only Logan's tone could be.

"Both of you, you need to focus on gathering intel, not on bickering." It was Scott's turn this time, shrill down the comms as he made sure that both of you heard. From the scowl on Logan's face, he heard perfectly.

A friend of Bolivar Trask was on the roulette table tonight - and apparently, he got loose lips after enough scotch. So, Logan took his seat at the same table, keeping his head down and focusing on looking inconspicuous, whilst you lingered at his side, playing the part of the pretty girlfriend attending alongside her man. Logan chugged the rest of his whiskey, holding out the glass to you. "Get me another one, won't you sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. God, that was the worst word he could use for you. It only made you angry. He had that stupid smirk on his face, too, that said he only knew how mad it made you. Despite his mockery though, you kept your composure, putting a smile on your pretty, painted lips. "Sure thing, hun." You said, leaning in, feigning a kiss on his cheek as you whispered: "Call me sweetheart again, and I'll cut your dick off."

He replied only with a scoff, as you headed to the bar, a scowl plastered on your face. The only way you knew it was because you glimpsed it in the mirror whilst waiting to be served. Once seen, it was schooled quickly, though that didn't stop a passerby from noticing.

Whilst you waited for the bartender, idly listening over your comms to hear whatever was being said at the roulette table, you barely noticed his presence, until he sided up right alongside you. He was a handsome guy, though regrettably not as handsome as your begrudging date for the evening, who remained at the table, unaware.

"Now, what could possibly make such a pretty face look so grumpy?" He asked, cooing the words so condescendingly. "I'm not grumpy." You reply, sourly, before forgetting that whilst you can always hear on comms, they can always hear you. A creak across the room sounds as Logan turns to look at you, and a look of something spreads across his face at the sight of the younger man quite obviously coming onto you. You didn't know what that something was, but it lit a strange, desperate spark in your stomach for just a brief moment.

Still, you needed to deal with the interloper first, so you turned back to him. "I'm kind of in a rush. I'm just here to get my partner a drink." "Partner, huh?" He chuckled. "I get it. Long-term relationship but no ring… has he convinced you that being partners is just as good as being married?"

He had clearly gotten the wrong end of the stick, though it was probably more your fault for saying partner rather than boyfriend. "It's not like that." You reply, trying to think of the best phrasing to get him to just leave you alone. "Then what's it like, gorgeous?"

The moron was grinning, missing the point as if he was a professional. All you could do was just roll your eyes and try to catch the bartender's attention. Sooner rather than later.

As you turned to speak to the bartender, the guy spoke up again, this time laying a hand on your arm as he did so. "Come on, Honey, you can tell me. I've been told I'm a wonderful listener. I've had my shoulders wet once or twice. I've got something else I'd love for you to get wet too."

The crudeness wasn't lost on you, and the thought of doing anything with this guy made your nose crinkle in disgust. But before you could reply with anything, you felt the guy's grip get snatched off of you as another, larger hand slid its way around your waist.

"Somethin' I can help you with, bub?" Logan's voice rumbled from behind you, and it clearly rattled the other guy to be challenged by him. After all, Logan was 300 lbs of muscle and adamantium and had the mug of a mean bastard to go with it. Even if that mean bastard was ruggedly handsome and carved from the finest Canadian oak.

You could have defended yourself. You knew this easily, and you were certain Logan did too, though the intensity of his gaze whilst he stared down the other guy forced a needy sensation in your core, betraying any lingering sense of feminism you had.

"No, just talking to the lady here." The guy replied, as politely as he could muster up, despite the fact he was no doubt shitting his pants. "Botherin' her, more like." Logan scoffed. "That cologne of yours is vile, by the way. You should probably try and wear something that doesn't smell like shit next time you try and flirt with a lady. Especially one who's spoken for."

The guy stammered, tripping over himself in trying to respond, his eyes running from you, then back to Logan, lips flapping comically but with no sound coming out.

Logan took this opportunity to tug you away from the bar instead. "C'mon, Sweetheart. Let's go have a talk." He snarled. "Logan, what are you doing? You need to focus on the meeting! Now is not the time for it!" Scott's voice down the communicator was cut off when Logan tore his out of his ear and yours as well (though he was uncharacteristically gentle as he plucked it from your ear).

He stuffed them both in his pocket, dragging you past the roulette table and the blackjack and into the men's bathroom. A single cubicle, with a lock on it that he immediately clicked shut the second that you were both in.

"What the Hell are you thinking?" You snap up at him, tearing your arm from his grip. Logan didn't reply instantly. His nostrils were flared, his beautiful mouth twisted in a vicious sneer and his whole body vibrating with the kind of energy that was more animal than human. His arms were tense, you could see the seams of his jacket nearly fraying at the effort, whilst those Hazel eyes of his burned into yours.

"I'm thinkin' about how furious I am." He snarled in reply, after a moment to think. "I'm thinkin' about how idiotic you are for even strikin' up a conversation with that guy in the damn first place. I'm thinkin'…" One tantalising step forward, and all of a sudden you were braced against the tiled wall. Thankfully the casino was clean, or at least looked it. Logan loomed over you, his breath heavy and stuttering, and for a moment you wondered if he had finally snapped and was going to drive those claws of his into your chest and finally be done with it. "I'm thinkin'… Dammit, that dress is good on you."

You blink, a few times as you look up at him, trying to confirm that you'd heard him correctly, that his eyes truly were raking down your body like that and not that you'd just dreamed it.

"Logan-" "Shut up." He snapped, cutting you off. "Just… shut up. Stop talking. God, you're so gorgeous and then you start talkin'!"

Despite your indignation, you didn't get a chance to reply. In moments he had gripped at your ass, squeezing full handfuls and lifting you from the ground, only to move you, seating you along the counter where the sink was, his eyes burning into yours all the while. He dropped you onto the counter with a thud, and in moments he was ruching up the fabric of your dress, the fabric slipping upwards from your ankles up to your mid-thigh. Hastily, you tried to tug it back down but he was far stronger, and it was a better option to have the dress lifted than torn, especially considering you'd both need to head back out to the floor. Now that there was a little give, he burrowed his strong thigh between your own, until his body was firmly planted between your knees.

"God, what am I doing?" He groaned, hanging his head, his hands planted on either side of your hips, trapping you in place. "You don't want this. You hate me as much as I can't stand you. But… I can't take this anymore. The… the tension, the burning, the need. The ache." His voice trembled as he spoke, his shoulders jerking with his difficult breaths.

As if all at once, you seemed to realise his intention here. He wanted you. Needed you. In a way almost primal and carnal, that seemed completely separate to the mission, or their usual distaste of one another.

A searing hot coil tightened in your gut, pulsating with desperation you didn't know you had in you. It had been a while, that much was for certain. 6 months? A year? Longer? Too long, by all measures. Too long since you'd shared your body with someone so vulnerably, so intimately.

And God, how you longed to share it with Logan.

"Shove me away." He demanded. "Shove me away. Smack me. Tell me I'm a brute and a bastard and you don't wanna fuck me. Do it. Because if you don't, I'm not stopping, mission be damned."

Instead, disobedient to his pleading, you slid your hands up his chest, feeling every ridge and valley even through his tuxedo. There were no words shared, no refusals or acceptances. Only a gentle touch between the fiercest of enemies.

His eyes flared, bright and incensed, and in moments he had shrugged off his jacket, tossing it haphazardly backwards, not caring where it landed, before dropping to his knees.

His hands planted themselves defiantly on your inner thighs, holding them open as he brought his face towards your core, whilst your needy fingers kept your skirt bunched up and out of his way. Logan didn't even bother to pull your panties aside, at first. He pressed chaste kisses at first to the seam of your womanhood, feeling how it slicked at his attention, enjoying the way you reacted to his attention, the way the scent of your desire seemed to permeate the air around him from every angle. He hummed into his kisses as well, the vibration only making that coil in your gut tighter. At the attempts to close your thighs, he only snarled, his grip getting firmer as he held them apart, shooting a glare up at you as if to warn you that if you didn't stop, he wouldn't keep going.

You relaxed your thighs, and he quickly crooked a finger around the gusset of your panties, tugging them to the side, taking in the sight of you with a cocked, eager eyebrow.

"You got a pretty pussy, sweetheart. She's a needy thing, huh?" He teased, before toying with his thumb, running along the seam a moment before holding you open, just in time for him to dive in again.

He kissed you as if he wanted to devour you like a hound starved for days on end would lap at the sweetest, most delicious meal. Quickly, he shrugged your thighs onto his shoulders, holding you against his face, as he slung one arm around you, holding your thigh in place on him and sliding his hand over the plane of your hip before he began to rub at your swollen clit, whilst his tongue diverted his focus to your weeping honeypot.

There couldn't be a finer sight anywhere in the world. You didn't care you were in a casino bathroom, or that you were meant to be working tonight on an important mission. Life or death meant jack shit compared to the sight of Logan kneeling between your legs and devouring you. He even seemed to hum in delight as your hand tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, nearly drowning him in your need.

He pulled back a moment later, strings of your desire still connecting you to his lips, before he swiped them away, licking them from his fingers.

At your whine, he only scoffed. "You don't finish anywhere but on my cock. You understand me?" He grumbled, standing up again, and unfastening his trousers, letting them and his boxers fall in a puddle on the floor in one swift, easy movement. When you glanced down, you could see he was already at full mast. Larger, thicker, veinier than any you had ever had before. It throbbed in his hand, with 3 beads of precum already leaking down his shaft. He palmed himself a moment, letting out a groan, holding his head in line with your clit as he rocked back and forth, gently. Just enough to soak himself in you.

"Mmm… I don't think you're wet enough." He grumbled, a smirk on his face. You were dripping on the counter, you could feel that already, so you knew he was lying, leading up to something. "So what are you gonna do about it?" You ask, locking your gaze with his own.

He pumps his fist along his cock still as he grins back at you, not averting his gaze as he spat, a thick glob of saliva landing right where his cock met your cunt. He smeared it on himself, on you - on where you both would soon become one - and he chuckled. "I always wanted to spit on you. Never thought you'd get so red from it." "I'm not red from tha-" You went to protest, but before you could finish, he had bucked, his entirety sheathed inside of you in one agonisingly ecstatic movement. All of him was buried in your warmth, and your walls shuddered around him. You didn't know which one of you had let out that moan - but you had a sneaky feeling it was both of you.

Your hand gripped his shirt, holding onto the fabric tightly, seeking to anchor yourself however you could, feeling how your body pulsated around him, acclimatising to his invasion. "Fuck," He cursed, resting his forehead on your shoulder, forcing himself to remain in place, not moving until you'd gotten used to him. "What, has it been so long since you've had a dick you re-virginised? You're so tight…" He ground his hips against your own, not yet pulling out, but making sure to give you that friction that brought another moan from your lips. "This pretty pussy's been needing a stretch. Don't worry, Princess, I'll give her a workout."

With that, he pulled back, each inch that he rescinded leaving you clenching down on nothing, feeling desperate without him. Against your will, you whined, tangling your fist further in the fabric of his shirt, urging him back again. Even after pulling out so slowly, he bucked in fast, torturous and barbaric in his speed. He bucked so hard that your entire body jolted with the collision between you, but he pulled back as if he wanted to watch you crying at the loss of him.

"What's the matter, Princess? You look about ready to sob." He mocked, before grunting as he thrust back in, just as hard, and you cried out in your mixed delight and pleasure. "You're the worst," You retort, through gritted teeth, trying to maintain your brain function even as every slight movement of his cock penetrating you seemed to make you want to melt into him, drooling and moaning like a moron who knew nothing other than taking Logan's cock. "Am I?" He purred in return, grinding his teeth as he let out three sharp thrusts in succession, robbing you of your breath as you forced your nails into his chest, drawing a groan of animalistic delight from him.

"Sounds to me like you're 'boutta cum, Princess. If I'm the worst… maybe I'll just stop." "No!" God, your voice sounded so breathy as it echoed back around the room, and Logan lit up at the sound. "No?" He parrotted, lips pursed and eyes amused, before he tutted. "No what? Use your words." "No, don't stop." "You don't want me to stop. 'cause I'm not the worst, right?" "N-not the worst…" You repeated. "Not the worst. Good girl, Princess. I'm the man who's 'boutta make you cum all over my cock, ain't I? I'm the best I am at what I do. And what I do is fucking girls like you 'til you're stupid. Right?"

By now your tongue had gone numb. You couldn't form a word in your mind, let alone in your throat or mouth. Instead, all that passed your lips were gasps and mewls and needy moans, as you forced yourself to nod, trying to get your point across.

It seemed Logan was too far gone as well, as he grinned down at you, feral and angry and delighted.

He leaned in, pressing heated, feverish kisses all over your neck, up and along the column of your throat before his forehead rested on yours.

"Fuck, Princess. I'm not gonna last much longer…" He panted out, his thrusts becoming faster and faster, no longer taunting you, and instead chasing his peak. His free hand reached down as well, his fingers splayed over your womb whilst his thumb played with your red, sensitive clit, eliciting another loud moan from you.

"Where'd you want it?" Logan snarled. "Tell me, and fast before I… ngh." He bucked, his movements sloppy and desperate. You longed for his warmth inside of you. To feel him spill and buck and ride out his afterglow whilst still nestled in your perfect pussy. To watch the look on his face as he pulled out and saw his own seed oozing from you. "Inside," You demand, the only full word you've managed in a long while. "P…please… inside. Inside." "Wish is my command, darlin'." He grunted out.

His lips crashed against your own, tasking of whiskey and pine and your own sweet nectar, the sensation of receiving a kiss from Logan so tender and desperate finally being enough to tip you over that final cliff.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, tugging him closer, as your pussy fluttered all around him, milking him for all he was worth, as a wave of white-hot euphoria rolled over your mind. Your moans were swallowed by Logan's mouth, as he kept kissing you, letting his own moans and grunts escape as well, the shared sounds of your pleasure rumbling in the caverns of your mouths. "Just like that." He rumbled, between open mouth kisses, murmuring into the plush flesh of your lips. "Cum all over me baby. Make my fuckin' day."

You barely even felt the sensation you'd so longed for as Logan buried himself as deep as he could inside of you, spilling every drop of his cum inside of you, whilst you squeezed every ounce he was worth, the pair of you riding out your orgasms at once.

It took a few seconds for you to catch your breath. Both of you had heaving chests and red faces. Logan pulled free from your lips, though not before offering one teasing, apologetic lip to the seam of your mouth, as though to apologise for kissing so hard and leaving you swollen.

You slid an arm around his shoulders, a silent plea not to pull away, as you pulled him in for one more kiss.

But he froze halfway, and glanced down at his trousers, his eyes growing wide and his jaw tensing.

"Logan? What's the matter?" You ask, leaning forward and glancing down as well, brow furrowed. "I didn't mute the comms." He replied, bluntly.

Didn't mute the comms. The comms that had been in his pocket, and would have picked up their activities.

"Get back to the blackbird, you two. Now. Before you're kicked out of the casino." Scott's voice, tinny and furious, escaped the two comms, even from where they were buried in Logan's discarded trousers. "And don't think for a moment you're not going to be punished for this."

Logan chuckled, reaching down to fasten his trousers back on, returning his gaze to you. "I dunno about you, Princess… but I don't care if I get punished. We're doing that again on the way back. C'mon."

You slid your panties and your dress back into place, stood from the counter and took his hand, heading out of the casino with him, already brimming with excitement for round two - this time with muted comms.

I hope you enjoyed and hope I did this justice - I've not really written enemies to lovers before so this was super fun <3 Feedback is super appreciated so please let me know if you enjoyed!! If you're interested, my requests are open so please feel free to send me any questions, ideas or headcanons you'd like me to explore (please just make sure you've read my pinned post first) TYSM for reading and hope you enjoy <3

[jettingtothemoon]

Daughter of the Spirits; chapter 11

➳ pairing: zuko x f!reader ➳ genre: a retelling of the show from season 2 onwards with a heavy focus and expansion on zuko’s story (canon divergent) ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut (underaged if your age of consent is above 16), spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the show ➳ word count: 3537 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se. ➳ tags: @harmlessoffering, @lammello (i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone, lmk if i am or if you want to be added)

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

The Invasion

You found out from Mai and Ty Lee that there had been another war meeting — one Zuko hadn’t been invited to. He was furious, of course.

For the first time in years, he was finally starting to feel like a prince again. What with all the servants at his beck and call, insisting he take the palanquin when traversing the city, even if he was only out on an errand with you. People were by his side day and night, making sure he had everything he needed. It was exactly how it should have been, even if it was quite the adjustment for you both, yet he had still been excluded by his father.

He had told you about his banishment. How he had spoken up at a war meeting and disgraced his father, leading to the agni kai where he had to fight the very man that was supposed to protect him. The man who scarred and banished his own child.

Only this morning was he happy and smiling, simply enjoying the time he got to spend with you. Now, however, he sat staring out of the window, watching as the clouds passed over the moon in silent contemplation.

“Zuko,” you said his name and yet, he didn't move. Didn’t even flinch. It was as if he hadn’t even heard you, only you knew he had.

"Zuko," you tried again, this time wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Wordlessly, he leaned into you. His scowl never once left his face but he was at least trying to control his temper for you, allowing himself to fall into your embrace.

"It's just a war meeting. I bet they're full of old, boring men."

Your attempt at amusing him seemed to fail as he leaned away from you and back against the window. "They're important. All the best advisors and the entire royal family attend. Even Azula is going."

"Just another reason that it won't be fun, Azula will be there."

Now that got a chuckle. A small one, but a chuckle nonetheless.

"Stop worrying about it and come to bed."

He hummed, turning away from the window and towards you. He wasn't happy and he probably wouldn't be for a while, but at least he could relax with you. Even when things weren’t going his way.

The next day, you sat with Zuko as you made a cup of jasmine tea. He sulked beside you with a frown on his face, thinking about the meeting that was about to start without him. You could tell how badly he wanted to be there, even if he did keep shrugging it off when you tried to comfort him. You thought making some tea would help but it only seemed to sour his mood further and you soon realised it was because he was missing his uncle.

You missed Iroh too. You had wanted to go and visit him but Zuko forbade you, expressing how dangerous it would be if you did. Azula had found out when he went to see him and if anyone were to find out you were visiting a traitor of the Fire Nation you would be hauled away and thrown into a cell of your own before either of you could do anything to stop it.

It pained you to think of the old man sitting in a dark, grimey cell. More so when the smell of jasmine tea reminded you as much of him now as it did your mother.

“Prince Zuko,” your attention was drawn to a servant as he entered the room with a bow, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Zuko looked from you to the man who now knelt at the floor with furrowed brows before getting up from where he sat. “What?”

“The high admirals, high generals, the war ministers, and the princess have all arrived. You’re the only person missing,” the servant explained, his eyes lifting to look at the prince as he spoke.

You stood beside Zuko with a heavily beating chest as he asked, “So my dad wants me at the meeting?”

The servant bowed again. “The Firelord said he would not start until you have arrived, sir.”

With a full smile, Zuko turned to you and, although he was going to a meeting where they would likely discuss the deaths of even more people you loved and knew, you couldn’t help but feel happy for him. This was all he’d ever wanted — to be accepted by his father. To be loved and wanted. For his opinions to matter. That alone brought you hope because if he could sway his father or even some of the generals, perhaps he could help save lives on both sides of the war.

You, along with Mai, waited outside the meeting for him, both anxious to hear how it went. She had offered to come with you so that you would not be alone in the palace for too long since she knew just how daunting that could be. Besides, she was still Zuko’s friend too, just as she was now yours.

When he finally emerged, Mai was the first to ask, “So? How did it go?”

“When I got to the meeting, everyone welcomed me. My father had saved me a seat, he wanted me next to him. I was literally at his right hand.”

His words almost sent a chill down your spine as you thought of the worst — that rather than Zuko swaying the Firelord’s mind about the war, that it would be his father who would sway him. You knew better than that, though, and as much was confirmed when you were met with nothing but a troubled expression on Zuko’s face.

“That’s wonderful,” Mai grinned, “You must be happy.”

The three of you stopped in front of a large tapestry, one displaying a large portrait of Firelord Ozai. You placed a reassuring hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he looked up at it and exchanged a worried glance with Mai.

“During the meeting I was the perfect prince,” he concluded, “The son my father wanted… but I wasn’t me.”

You ran your hand down his arm and slotted it into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. For a moment, he squeezed it back, but then tugged his hand free and began to walk away, leaving both you and Mai behind.

She sighed and became the one placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Give him time. This was a good thing, he’ll realise that soon.”

You hummed although you did not agree. The only good thing was that Zuko was starting to realise who he was and that the man he was wasn’t the man his father wanted him to be. He was not ruthless and cold. He was kind and strong and so many other things his father would never be. He was better than him and finally, you thought he was beginning to realise that.

When you returned to your room, you found him writing a letter.

“What are you doing?” you questioned, wondering what he was up to.

“Writing to Mai. I at least owe her a goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” you asked, your brows furrowed.

He hummed. “We’re leaving. I… This isn’t who I am. Not anymore. An invasion has begun, we can slip away in the chaos but I have to do something first.”

Whatever he had in mind, whether he just wanted to leave and find your parents or maybe, just maybe, hunt down and join the avatar, you knew you were going with him. After all the time that had passed since you left Ba Sing Se, he was finally ready to accept who he was. He was finally going to do the right thing.

He passed you the brush when he was finished, allowing you to write your apologies and goodbyes to your newfound friends. You addressed both Mai and Ty Lee directly, wishing them well and hoping you would not come to face them on opposite sides of the battlefield. The two of you then signed the letter and Zuko left to take it to her home, putting it someplace where she would see it long after the two of you were gone.

After he returned, as you collected what little things you owned, he knelt before a portrait of his mother and closed his eyes. “I know I’ve made some bad choices, but today I’m gonna set things right.”

He picked up his swords and a small bag of provisions, turning to the lighter side of himself once again, and pulled his hood up to conceal his face.

You stepped forward and pulled him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his lips as your thumb stroked the side of his face. “It’s going to be okay, you know. You’re doing the right thing.”

He smiled and leaned into your touch. “I know.”

He led you quickly through the palace and down underground. You could hear the fighting up above as you moved through the tunnels and Zuko explained that during the eclipse today, no one would be able to Firebend. It was the perfect time for an attack and, along with the invasion forces, would surely be the avatar. He had a plan and that plan was to join them, to help the avatar finally put an end to this war.

But he had to confront his father first and what better time was there to do that than when he had no bending?

When he finally came to a halt before a large, reinforced door, you felt your heart in your throat. How would Ozai react to the news of his son’s betrayal? Would he try to kill him then and there? Or perhaps he would simply try to imprison you both? Either way, you were prepared. You would use your bending — all of your bending — to fight. You were fighting for yourself. You were fighting for your family. You were fighting for Zuko.

You held his hand, squeezing it in reassurance as you had done time and time before.

“I’m ready to face you,” he spoke, as though his father could hear him through the door.

He did not protest as you walked to the door with him, nor did he ask you to remain behind as he walked inside. As dangerous as what he was about to do was, he trusted that you would be safe by his side, and that he would be safe by yours. Whatever was going to happen, you were going to do it together.

“Prince Zuko,” his father addressed him with a frown and lowered his cup of tea, “What are you doing here?”

Zuko walked towards his father, with you standing only a few paces behind. This was his moment and you wanted him to have it but if he needed you, you would be there to fight by his side.

“I’m here to tell the truth,” Zuko declared from where he stood, staring his father down.

The firelord furrowed his brows and signalled for his guards to leave, his eyes only once flickering from Zuko to you. “Telling the truth during the middle of an eclipse? This should be interesting.”

Zuko only spoke again when the guards were gone, the strong doors sliding shut behind them, “First of all, in Ba Sing Se it was Azula who took down the avatar, not me.”

“Why would she lie to me about that?” Ozai questioned.

“Because the avatar is not dead,” Zuko explained, “He survived.”

“What?” Only then did the firelord’s expression change. What was a calm and collected leader suddenly turned into an angry father. One who was clearly afraid of what the avatar could do if he was still alive.

“In fact, he’s probably leading this invasion. He could be on his way here right now.” For a moment, it almost seemed as though Zuko was warning his father, as though he had not really turned his back on him. He was still his father, after all, but you knew him better than that. He was changed and he was here for one thing and one thing only, to bid his father farewell.

“Get out!” the firelord snapped with a wave of his hand, anger boiling up in him, “Get out of my sight right now if you know what’s good for you.”

Although the firelord’s temper was continuing to grow, Zuko remained calm. From where you stood behind him, you could almost hear the satisfaction in his voice as he spoke, “That’s another thing. I’m not taking orders from you anymore.”

His father’s brows crossed in rage and you adopted a defensive stance as he began to walk towards Zuko. “You will obey me or this defiant breath will be your last!”

The prince unsheathed his swords, standing ready to fight his father as he demanded, “Think again. I am going to speak my mind and you are going to listen.”

To both of your surprise, the firelord sat back down as though he was ready to hear whatever Zuko had to say. The two of you still stood at the ready, prepared for a fight. You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on the ground beneath you. You could feel the echoing rumble of machines coming from the surface, another sign of the battle above.

“For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me,” Zuko admitted, casting his eyes to the ground, “To accept me. I thought it was my honour that I wanted but really I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn,” he pointed at Ozai with the end of his blade, “My father who challenged me, a thirteen year old boy to an agni kai. How can you possibly justify a duel with a child?”

It was like a weight off your own chest to hear him finally letting go of all that had burdened him, telling his father just how he felt after all he had done to him.

The firelord only scowled, looking at Zuko as though he was nothing but the dirt under his shoe as he spat, “It was to teach you respect!”

“It was cruel and it was wrong!”

“Then you’ve learnt nothing. This girl,” he gestured to you, “Has only made you weaker than you already were.”

“No! I’ve learned everything, and I’ve had to learn on my own. Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilisation in history, and somehow the war was our way of sharing our greatness with the world. What an amazing lie that was, the people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don’t see our greatness, they hate us! And we deserve it. We’ve created an era of fear in the world and if we don’t want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.”

The firelord laughed out loud, mocking his son even now. “Your uncle has gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

There was a brief pause and Zuko smiled, actually smiled, in the face of his father’s taunts. “Yes, he has.”

“And this girl? She stands with you now, is she not of the Fire Nation too? Another traitor turned by your uncle’s tricks?”

Now it was you who stifled a laugh. “A traitor? Zuko isn’t a traitor and neither is his uncle. You are the one who betrayed the Fire Nation, you even betrayed your own blood because you’re so blinded by power you can’t see the bigger picture. My name is y/n and my parents were from the Northern Watertribe. They left their home and raised me in the Earth Kingdom to fight against your army! Even now, they fight against your cruelty, and now we do too!”

“You foolish girl,” Ozai glared at you with fire in his eyes, “What could you possibly do to stop me?”

“After we leave here today,” Zuko interrupted, answering his father’s question for the both of you, “We’re going to free uncle Iroh from his prison, and I’m gonna beg for his forgiveness. He’s the one who’s been a real father to me.”

The firelord only laughed again. “That’s just beautiful, maybe he can pass down to you the ways of tea and failure.”

“But I’ve come to an even more important decision,” he continued, ignoring his father completely, “I’m going to join the avatar and I’m going to help him defeat you.”

“Really?” Ozai smirked, “since you’re a full blown traitor now and you want me gone, why wait? I’m powerless, you’ve got your swords, why don’t you just do it now?”

“Because I know my own destiny. Taking you down is the avatar’s destiny,” he sheathed his swords and, although a part of you wanted nothing more than to strike him down now, you were in agreement with Zuko. It was not your place, “Goodbye.”

As Zuko turned and began to walk towards you again, ready to leave his father behind once and for all, the bitter man began to hurl more insults at his son, calling him a coward for confronting him during an eclipse when neither of them had their bending.

“If you have any real courage, you’ll stick around until the sun comes up. Don’t you want to know what happened to your mother?”

Those words stood Zuko in his tracks, even when you looked at him with pleading eyes. There was no time for this, the sun would be back soon and the two of you stood no chance against his father at his full power.

Without a second thought, the prince turned back around and demanded to know what happened the night his mother disappeared.

“My father, firelord Azulon, commanded me to do the unthinkable… to you, my own son, and I was going to do it. Your mother found out and swore she would protect you at any cost. She knew I wanted the throne and she proposed a plan. A plan in which I would become firelord and your life would be spared.”

It was awful, entirely diabolical, to think that a father would even consider murdering his own child but knowing what else the firelord had put Zuko through, somehow you weren’t at all surprised. It seemed in his very nature. You wondered what Zuko’s mother ever saw in the man.

“Your mother did vicious, treasonous things that night. She knew the consequences and accepted them. For her treason, she was banished.”

“So she’s alive...”

Cautiously, you moved to Zuko’s side, hoping to console him as tears began to spill across his face.

“Perhaps,” Ozai all but shrugged before raising his tone once again, “Now I realise that banishment is far too merciful a punishment for treason. Your penalty will be far steeper.”

In a flash, the firelord was moving, forming a stance you had only seen once before. The sun was back and he was drawing on its power to call lightning down. Lightning that he intended to use to put an end to his traitorous son once and for all.

“Zuko!” you cried, realising you had already missed your window to create a wall between the two of you and Ozai to block the attack.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as you ran towards Zuko only to see him do the impossible. He redirected the lighting, sending it crashing back down on his father who was thrown into the air at the force.

He grabbed your hand and ran, pulling you out of the bunker before his father could get back to his feet. As you ran out onto the streets, you saw what looked to be the avatar launching an assault on the Fire Nation airships, giving his friends enough time to retreat. “Look!”

“Do you think you can get up there?”

You furrowed your brows. There was a chance that with your bending you could reach the airships and help the avatar but you weren’t sure if you could get there in time. They were fleeing, after all, they weren’t going to stick around for long. Besides, you had more important things to do.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “but I’m not leaving you. Let’s go get your uncle.”

With a determined smirk, he led you into the prison. He ran so fast that he seemed to miss the cowering guards and singed walls.

“Uncle!” he cried out when he reached Iroh’s cell but his uncle was already gone. The bars to his prison cell were broken and battered, blasted through from the inside. Iroh had already escaped.

Zuko was quick to run to one of the guards, interrogating him about what happened in a matter of seconds, only to be told what you already knew. Iroh had escaped, busted himself out before you had had the chance to get to him. He was long gone now, all you could do was get out of there yourselves.

“Zuko, we have to go. We’ll find Iroh again, I promise, but right now we need to leave!”

Although disappointed, he nodded and followed you back outside.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

[notjustjavierpena]

All Roads Lead To Someone

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Don’t blame me for suddenly getting into domestic Javier Peña after watching how sad he was about not having a family in S3E01. Enjoy fluff and smut!

Summary: You take a pregnancy test at four in the morning after not being able to sleep. Javier has never found you more sexy than right now, and he tells you to check on the kids and meet him in the bedroom after.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), established relationship, pregnancy, breeding kink, family life, unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, humping, creampie, dirty talk, fluff, domestic javier is sexy and charming, so much love, banter!!!

Word count: 3.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48019288

All Roads Lead To Someone

It was late, in fact in the middle of the night, when you found yourself staring down at a pink and white stick with a very positive result of two red lines. You picked it up from the bathroom sink to examine it further, just to be certain that it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you. Nope, it was positive alright.

You leaned back a little to spy on Javier in your shared bed, but he didn’t seem to be awake, lying flat on his stomach and sprawled out on the bed like an octopus.

You closed the lid of the toilet and sat down, twirled the pregnancy test in your hands, forgetting briefly that it was stained with your pee as the result had your head spinning in different directions. It would be your third child, and so soon after your second, but the worries that popped into your mind were more practical than anything. And they didn’t contain any scenario where you weren’t supposed to have the baby. Would you be able to afford it? Would your house be big enough? Was three one too many when you were only two parents? 

“Hey,” Javier suddenly said at the door, leaning against the frame with his shoulder.

You jumped in surprise, nearly dropping the pee-stick onto the bathroom floor. When you realized who it was, you relaxed again, “Hey.”

“What are you doing up so late?” Javier was untying the string of his pajama pants, probably only having been woken up by his bladder. He yawned and scratched just above the hem of his bottoms.

You showed him the pregnancy test without hesitation, holding it out for him without a word. The two lines were there, no doubt about it. The cutesy surprise announcements were fun the first two times, but you weren’t actually actively trying for more kids, so the mood was different. Not bad, not off, just different, more practical than fun.

Javier took the test, looked at it for a few seconds before his brows nearly rose into his hair, “You’re pregnant?”

“You fell asleep before I did, and I lay awake until I pulled myself together to go piss on a stick in the middle of the night. You know I was late, I told you last week…,” you got up from the seat of the toilet to wash your hands with a generous amount of soap. You weren’t sure if your mind had wrapped around your reality yet. 

Javier quickly placed the test on the lid of the toilet before coming up behind you, looking at you through the mirror and being just about to wrap his strong arms around you. You cleared your throat.

“Pee fingers,” you noted. 

“Oh shit, right,” he laughed quietly under his breath, and you took a step to the side so that he could wash his hands with, unlike you, a normal amount of soap, “I feel like we’ve been careful…”

“Bullshit,” it was your turn to laugh now, “I don’t even think we have condoms in the house right now.”

“Doesn’t mean that we haven’t been careful,” he wiped his hands on the towel on the side of the sink, then turned around to face you, “I don’t… come inside.”

“The pullout-method? Really?” You rolled your eyes, but Javier just looked like someone who wanted to kiss you even more after that, “I bet you wanted to knock me up. Peña.”

“So I’m building a soccer team, and so what?” Javier finally got permission to kiss you slowly in the dim bathroom light. He rested his hands on your hips, grabbing a little at the skin there. You always reminded him that you had had two kids; that you weren’t all that anymore, but he tugged a little at the softness of you and hummed. It was his favorite thing, “Fuck, you are so hot.”

“It’s four in the morning,” you reminded him after a few more seconds of kissing him, cupping his face to look him in the eye as you tutted, “And you needed to piss, old man.” 

“Check on the kids and meet me in bed after?” He looked at you questioningly, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. You could never resist, and especially not now when he beamed at you afterwards.

“Throw the pee stick out too. I’ll meet you in bed in five,” you patted his cheek, then stepped away from him, but you were pulled right back into his arms. You squeaked and giggled as he kissed your neck and said your full name out loud. 

“What?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders as he held you in return, but he created some space between you, so he could look down and carefully place a hand on your stomach that still kept the secret between the two of you. 

“You’re giving me a baby, huh, momma?” Javier looked up from where he had placed his hand, a boyish look on his face. You didn’t think you could be more in love. 

“Only because you make such a fine baby daddy,” you noted with a grin, feeling something stir in the pits of your stomach and butterflies going off between your legs. 

“Go,” he stepped away from you, smacking your behind as you left the bathroom and earning a playful glare. 

You walked out into the dark hallway, surrounded by domesticity in the form of a house that had become a home. It still felt comforting in the middle of the night, and at this point you didn’t even need the lights on to look at the various photos hanging on the wall. You knew each one like the back of your hand, and didn't need to have them illuminated to shape out the smiling faces of your husband and kids. And if you forgot for some silly reason, all you had to do was close your eyes to see the images on your lids. This happiness was forever engrained. 

You tiptoed to the first door on the left, cracking it open to peek inside without waking up your son, Lucas. The 6-year-old was sleeping soundly in his bed with the covers draped around him like you had arranged them earlier. His calmness came from you but his looks resembled those of his father; big brown eyes and messy brown hair. Javier had once put his aviator glasses on him during a summer trip and you had gasped out loud at the resemblance, pregnant and hormonal, until you had teared up. It had felt embarrassing then but now, it was a story that you happily told friends and family about whenever they spoke about the children growing up so fast.

He’ll be just like his father. 

You hoped for something more tamable.

You made a mental note of tidying up in there before closing the door carefully so as to not disturb your sleeping child. The room was overflowing with dinosaurs in various pieces of clothing and race tracks, an occasional stray toy from Lucas’ sister’s toy collection disrupting the scene of a velociraptor riding a miniature Mercedes-Benz. 

How on Earth had time gone by so fast? Sweet nothings turning into love turning into marriage and two, soon three, kids. 

Continuing down the hall to the next room, you narrowed your eyes at the slight noise coming from Inés’ room. She wasn’t asleep that was for certain. 

You knocked once, giving your daughter the chance to scurry back into bed at the threat of being caught red handed by her mother, but when you finally stuck your head inside, she was still playing on the carpet. 

“Inés Peña,” you said without a hint of anger. You flicked the switch on the wall beside the door, “And why aren’t you in bed? It’s early in the morning, baby.”

The 3-year-old’s eyes snapped to yours. She looked exhausted from having ruined her own sleeping pattern, but it didn’t keep her from playing with the dinosaur figure that she had nicked from her older brother. Seemed like their thieving canceled each other out. 

“I just wanted to play,” she reasoned, knowing that she was in trouble with how she got up from the floor. 

“But you look so tired, baby,” you reasoned back, leaning down to pick her up. She automatically stretched out her arms as you scooped her up from the floor, pressing a kiss to her head. You got a better look at her as she sat on your arm, making you raise a brow and speak again, mostly to yourself, “Absolutely exhausted actually.”

Inés didn’t say much else, just rested her little exhausted head on your shoulder as you walked towards her bed. You instinctively felt her forehead but there was no indication of a fever, “There’s time to play tomorrow, sweetie.”

Inés shook her head, “I want to play now.”

So, this wasn’t a case of being stubborn or ill, you thought. This was about her missing out on what would happen if she went to sleep. God, her nature was like her father’s a little too much. 

“Big girls need their rest, so they can grow taller and stronger than their big brother,” you said as you placed her onto her tiny bed, pulling the covers up over her tiny frame. You ran a hand over her hair which was the same color as yours. 

Inés’ eyes were already fluttering closed. You watched her turn onto her side, back facing you with the purpose of getting you to cuddle her. You reached to run your hand up and down her back, using only a tiny bit of your nails to scratch. Her breathing soon slowed down whilst you drew hearts with your index finger. 

Suddenly, the lights turned off above the two of you. You looked back towards the door, finding Javier standing in the doorway and leaning against the frame with his shoulder. 

“Shhh,” you whispered, “She just fell asleep. I think she forces herself to stay up and play.”

“You surpassed the five minutes, so I went looking for you,” he whispered back at you, crossing the room to crouch down beside you. You looked at him questioningly. He adjusted Inés’ covers to keep his hands busy, “Don’t worry, momma. Mini-Me didn’t wake up when I went to see if you were in his room.”

You smiled at how well he knew you, then leaned in to kiss him lovingly, leaving him wanting more, before getting up. You watched your step as you walked towards the door, avoiding the raptor dressed in pink, holding out your hand for Javier to take.

As you closed the door behind the both of you, Javier wrapped his arms around you. He kissed you against the wall, moving you around a little so as to not knock one of the picture frames down the wall. 

“They’ll hear us,” you giggled into his mouth, hooking your hands together on the back of his neck and pulling him harder against your mouth until you needed to breathe again. You wanted him badly, but you didn’t want kids roaming around the house so early in the morning, “Please, take me to bed before we get carried away.”

“You’re just such a knockout, mi amor,” he whispered, hand already slipping into your pajama shorts. You grabbed his wrist and he tutted as you pulled it away from its acts of indecencies, “Fine. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Let’s take this to bed whilst I’m still sane enough to do it in a proper place,” you dragged him along by his wrist, occasionally planting another kiss on his lips that you didn’t allow to escalate. 

“Oh,” Javier caught on as you entered the bedroom again. He locked the door to be safe, “Fuck, how far along would you be now?”

“Not anywhere near the end of my second trimester, pervert,” you teased, pulling at the strings of his pajama bottoms, “No pregnancy libido yet.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the perverted one,” he retorted, yanking his bottoms down and stepping out of them on his way to the bed. He plopped down, “I thought you were gonna give me rug burn in the end. It’s a miracle I am alive, and that our neighbors didn’t catch us just once.”

“Your dad did though,” you shimmied out of your shorts, matching top following right after, then crawled onto the bed to straddle your husband.

Javier grimaced, but still ran his hands up and down your thighs, “Boner killer. Stop talking about that.” 

“Sorry,” you leaned down over him to kiss him, but he was busy. His eyes briefly fell on your breasts, and you knew he was thinking about how full they would become soon. You rolled your eyes at the feel of his length poking into your hip. Putting a finger underneath his chin made you able to tilt his head upwards again, “My eyes are up here, babe.”

“You’re so fucking pretty, momma,” Javier’s hands rested on your bare thighs, gripping at the soft flesh like he had done earlier in the bathroom. You kissed him longingly, feeling his hands slide up the globes of your ass before settling at the small of your back, “Are you wet for me?”

“You have no idea,” you sat up in his lap to let him admire your breasts again, but also to guide one of his hands between your legs, “Feel.”

Javier swore under his breath, turning his palm upward to sink two fingers between your folds and inside of your cunt. You let out a shaky breath as he slowly opened you up with his thick fingers, feeling the soreness from how he had been between your thighs earlier last night. No wonder you were pregnant. 

He then nudged your g-spot without much effort, knowing you too well in bed as well, “Gotta get the blood flowing, you know I love you all dazed and confused on my dick, amor.”

You nodded with a soft moan, starting to roll your hips and fucking yourself onto his hand. This angle was always a winner, making you able to thrust your swollen clit against the heel of his hand whilst feeling the pressure of his fingers inside of you. It wouldn’t take long with how he tensed up his calloused palm, holding his wrist steady to let you use it. 

Your orgasm came a moment later, rippling through your core and causing your walls to pull at Javier’s fingers. He watched you from below, and you did all in your power to keep quiet; bit your lip harshly and whimpered through your teeth as you rode out your high.

Javier’s eyes on you were like fire, cock twitching underneath you in interest of making him feel the same too. You found his fiery stare with your own as you came down from your high, staring down into them as you panted. You sported a stunned expression but only until you burst into post-orgasmic giggles. You lifted off his hand, let yourself fall down onto your back beside him. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe how hard you make me come,” you moaned with a breathless laugh, reaching down to cup a hand over your mound and hissing a little. Javier rolled onto his side with a proud smile, lifting his chin as were he trying to show off to someone else in the room. 

“I’ve had some years to practice.”

“No, you’ve always been good at this,” you reassured, lazily rubbing your clit and feeling slick drip out of you at the clench that you provoked. You sighed softly but looked mischievously at him, “You think I married you for your dashing beauty and incredible personality? Please.”

“Oh, you did not just say that,” Javier moved quickly. He was on top of you and between your legs before you could protest, tickling you with one hand and holding the other over your mouth as you started squeaking with laughter. 

“Sorry! I love you. Javi!!” You said in a muffled voice, but he just continued until you were choking on your own breath, hiccupping and squirming underneath him. You weren’t doing the best job at being silent for the sake of privacy but Javier joined in as you suddenly bucked your hips up into him. 

“Fuck,” he swore loudly and removed his hand without thinking. 

“Need you,” you whispered, spreading your legs open underneath him, “Now, please, Javi.”

“You want a pillow?” 

“Yes.”

You lifted your hips as Javier took his own pillow from his side of the bed, pushing it underneath you until you could lower yourself onto it. You loved his gentleness in bed, his affection and warmth that never faltered despite how rough he was with you. 

“Have I ever told you that I have a massive crush on you?” You asked in a serious manner. 

“Whew. Thank God,” Javier laughed quietly and he absentmindedly ran his big palm over the part of your stomach that was just below your belly button. You could see the cogs turn, that he was taking in the thought of becoming a father of three as he spoke, “I think you might have mentioned it in your vows, but I’m glad you meant it… I was starting to wonder.”

“How did I become so lucky?” You asked but it was only you talking to yourself. 

“Hm?” 

“How did I get a man like you?” You continued musing, watched hungrily as he took his cock in his hand, stroking himself a few times and ran the head through your folds to coat himself in your arousal. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Well, you were wearing a blue sundress with straps that had cute bows on them,” he replied, then pushed the tip against your slit and started bottoming out. 

“Thank heavens for that dress,” you whimpered at the breach by his generous length. It felt ridiculous to say how much you meant that statement, because if that was what had caught the old dog’s attention and, God forbid, you had worn something else that day… You would have never said hello and you would never have had a man that made you feel like someone was running around inside your chest every time he laughed or said your name.

“I’ve got you, momma,” he responded to your whimper. He didn’t have to tell you; you knew that he did indeed have you, always would. You wrapped your arms around him, nodding into the crook of his neck. 

Javier breathed out a whew, adjusting to being encased by your heat and then pulling back just a little only to ease back in. He was hardly removing his cock from you, and it made him go deeper than he normally would in the beginning. Your hips angled, determined to take him in further. 

“You feel so good, I don’t think I can hold back like this for long,” he told you as he set up a rhythm that had you both panting in each other’s embrace. You could feel his hot chest rub against your breasts as he rocked into you, making your nipple harden when they were stimulated into peaks. You dug your nails into the muscles of his shoulders, lifted your legs to lock your ankles around the small off his back. 

“You don’t have to hold back,” you moaned into his flesh, biting down to muffle a particularly high-pitched groan from the back of your throat as his pelvis found your clit, “We don’t have to be careful, remember? I need you to come in me. Don’t— Jesus, don’t pull out.”

“Shit—“ Javier’s hips faltered for a moment, but he came back with a bit more force, “Can’t say shit like that, baby. We are going to have that football team eventually if you love getting pumped full of come.” 

“I mean it,” you slid your hands into his hair to pull him in for a kiss. You could tell that he was getting closer incredibly fast after the realization had hit him, because his breathing was ragged and his thrusts were getting more forceful. 

You threw your head back as his pubic bone moved against your mound, adding further pressure to your clit and building up your second high. You clawed at him as you felt your orgasm approaching rapidly, muscles around your womb clenching but somehow you still managed to half-whisper, “Fuck, I’m gonna- hah, baby, oh fuck���“

“Come on, make me give it to you, baby, you know it fucking works with how easily I knock your pretty pussy up,” he placed a hand over your mouth like before. 

You came hard again, eyes rolling back into your skull as you could only breathe frantically through your nose. You clenched around his length rhythmically, pulling his own orgasm from him and putting on a show to show him just how much you’d needed to feel him coat your insides.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered through gritted teeth, seating himself inside of you and filling you to the brim. He stretched up a little, making your legs fall down to the sides again, and looked down at where you were connected with a string of quiet profanities leaving him. He grabbed the base of his cock after getting a proper look, then pulled out and made you whimper. Only then, he finally dared to remove his hand from your mouth.

You gasped for a proper mouthful of air, then followed his gaze down between your legs and curled your toes at the sight. You were red and puffy from being so spent, obscenely dripping with his seed. Desperately in need of a shower.

“What time is it?” You asked as you leaned back again, breath still ragged. Dazed and confused was probably the most accurate description that Javier had ever used.

Javier snapped out of his trance that was nothing but you. He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, “Few minutes to five. Might as well get up and shower for work.”

“I’m not getting up until I absolutely have to,” you mumbled as your tiredness began to creep up on you, not daring to close your legs just yet from how sensitive you still were. 

“Let me get you a cool rag,” he insisted and you just nodded, “And then you can sleep. I’ll take the kids, feed and dress ‘em. You just keep growing my quarterback.”

You smiled softly with your eyes closed.

People always said that all roads lead to somewhere but for you, it wasn’t somewhere; it was someone.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[iris-qt]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐

☾ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☾ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

☾ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | 2��

☾ ᴀ/ɴ: ʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏʟʟ (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴘᴏʟʟꜱ).

☾ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴɢᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ɪᴛ. ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ, ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴀʀɴꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

Silly, foolish love.

Regulus seemed to be surrounded by the atrocious thing as love was in bloom at Hogwarts. Valentine’s Day was slowly approaching as February rolled in, blanketing the castle in fresh snow and an air of romantic anticipation.

And Regulus hated it.

He stalked up the endless stairs with his lanky legs to reach the rotted wooden trapdoor that led to the stuffy Divination room. If only the crystal ball would tell him how to drop out of this useless class mid-year. Walking in for the 2nd semester of the year, he saw the little magical name tags Professor Trelawney had enchanted were scrambled.

New seats.

Just fucking wonderful.

He’d gotten used to sitting next to some short, sniveling boy with bad acne and thick glasses. Such a simple, mutual understanding of silence between them. 

Regulus made his way to his new table at the back of the class. At least he could think clearly as he wasn’t seated right next to Trewlany’s five sticks of incense. Leaning over, messy black curls falling over his tired eyes, he peeks at the name on the tag next to him…Y/N. 

The new girl.

He’d never spoken to her but she didn’t seem particularly irritating, so perhaps this would be fine. 

You walk in, one of the last students, and as you take a seat, Regulus notes you smell like the fresh pines of the Forbidden Forest. Not to mention you had a pine leaf stuck in your sweater. His keen detective work led him to the conclusion that there was more to you than he had originally thought. Rather than a wallflower, you were hiding something in those focused eyes.

Those focused eyes that were now trained on him, lighting up as you gave him a little wave.

Regulus nodded in acknowledgment and turned away, letting you know he wasn’t one for small talk in case you hoped to engage in it.

The planets must’ve not been aligned in Regulus’s favor as the topic of today’s class was palm reading; particularly the line that represented love and future relationships. All in the spirit of Valentine’s Day, as Trelawny put it.

She chose the wrong holiday to become festive about.

The thing is, Regulus didn’t believe in love. He believed love was a choice. A choice he tended to avoid. He had made the decision to not get involved at all. Relationships only bring drama and heartbreak and he wanted none of it. None. Of. It. 

Also, his awkwardness welcomed zero aspects of any love, so perhaps he was slightly salty about that.

When the palm reading commenced, you turned to him, flipping your textbook to the correct page.

“It looks like the heart line is right above the head line.”

He raises an eyebrow. “But where’s the head line?”

You smile as you gently take his hand in yours and trace your finger over his heart line on his pale palm. Maybe it was a sensory issue, because his heart stopped and then started racing one thousand beats a second. It was probably just because of nerve endings leading to his heart, right? Basic human anatomy.

“Hm…I’m picking up a vibe…seems like your life shall be…” you look at Regulus, eyes wide for dramatic flare “...full of smiles and hugs! Merlin! Whatever shall you do?”

Regulus can’t help but crack a smile as he attempts to hide it with a disappointed head shake. 

“And here I thought you’d take this seriously.”

“I am dead serious, Black,” you drain your face of emotions as you stare blankly at him.

He can’t help but let out a stifled laugh as his heart picks up again. This cannot be good. He must be sick. Flu season, right?

Regulus recovered from his supposed illness by the next morning as he woke up early; washing himself with ice cold water to maintain his control and balance throughout the day. The air outside was crisp and the unrelenting chill of winter was chasing the occasional snowflakes that decided to fall. 

Perfect weather for a rejuvenating morning walk.

Truthfully, he hoped the cold would numb his spontaneous thoughts of Y/N. One little interaction and he was already spiraling.

No matter.

Everything was under control.

Until he saw you, bundled up in an endless number of layers, sitting by the lake with a little tray of watercolors, your hair gently blowing in the breeze. He just knew your nose would be a rosy shade and it’s as if his heart began an override autopilot of his body, moving his legs toward you. Of course, he was just curious as to why you were painting out in this bleak weather. Of course, it was plain curiosity. Nothing more. 

His quiet steps were given away by the frosty ground, and you looked up as he approached, his ink black hair decorated with various snowflakes, blowing around his face..

“Morning Regulus, here for another palm reading?” you grin seeing him roll his eyes. He hesitates as he doesn’t know whether he should ask before he sits down next to you. You gently pat the frosted grass next to you and he quietly takes a seat; knees to his chest.

“I don’t know if a thin black robe is the best attire for this weather, Black.”

“Hm..I suppose next time I’ll bring 20 sweaters like you,” he hums, giving you a small, lopsided smile. You scoff teasingly as you unwrap your large wool scarf from your neck, putting it around his shivering form. He looks at you with a shimmering yet unreadable emotion, before he pulls his gaze from your rosy, frigid nose to the small, pocket sized canvas you’re holding.

Your art was simplistic, yet heavenly. The soft pastel shades of the water colors blended together in perfect harmony, capturing the ethereal atmosphere of this cold, February morning. The lake shimmered with an azure shade which escaped into the baby blue tint of the cloudy sky.

You caught him staring and dug into your messenger bag, pulling out another tiny canvas and a spare brush.

“Paint with me”

He blinked at you, your gentle and inviting manner a foreign language to him. He always welcomed loneliness, but in your presence, he didn’t think being alone would ever feel the same. He’d always be yearning for someone. A specific someone. 

Merlin, he was in deep.

They sat there in a comfortable silence; the only sounds consisted of the lake lapping onto the shore and whispers of the winter winds. Regulus could get used to this. He began painting the scene, hoping to impress you with his professional art; a product of his years of art lessons with the best of the best. But he would never capture the moment like you did. Perhaps it was the lack of artistic “rules” with which you painted that made it so perfect. Perhaps it was the fact that it was you who painted it that made it so perfect. 

For perfection makes perfection.

So imagine his happiness when you gifted him your little canvas after the morning paint session. Regulus was truly at a loss for words but managed to pipe out a weak “thank you” as he gently held the little canvas as if it were a fragile artifact. He gave himself a mental reminder to learn various protective charms to perform on the small painting. Perhaps buy an impenetrable golden chamber for it? No. Platinum.

Valentine’s Day commenced with a flurry of sappy couples and atrocious public displays of affection. Regulus would’ve stayed holed up in his dorm, but how could he miss a trip to Hogsmeade? He needed to stock up on swan feather quills and dark chocolate frogs.

Yes, of course, Regulus had thought about you and perhaps conveying his feelings on this day reserved for love, but he’d rather not ruin the one beautiful thing in his life. Ever since that one early morning, you and him had been painting basically everyday. Those painting sessions are what made Regulus excited to wake up in the morning. But he wasn’t sure if you harbored the same feelings. 

Truthfully, if love was a choice, Regulus wouldn’t choose to love you. It was beautiful, yes. But it was heart wrenching; his stomach constantly felt like a twisting storm while your eyes sang a siren song that would soon bring him to his demise against the sharp rocks of love. 

That is why he pondered just releasing his emotions and letting you know his affections towards you. But Regulus was nothing if not afraid. 

Afraid of losing you.

Stupid love.

As he made his way into Hogsmeade, he noticed you strolling around with your best friend, laughing. You made eye contact with him as you gave him a little wave and a small smile. He briskly looked away as if you could read his conflicting thoughts about you behind his eyes and walked off.

Strange.. You thought.

After running his errands, Regulus decided to head back. Per usual, Valentine’s Day was a flop. They didn’t even have dark chocolate frogs in stock. Regulus sighed as he began walking back. He immediately paused in his steps as he noticed you at a pop-up flower stand, making a bouquet of white flowers. Ranunculus? Yes, it was a bouquet of Ranunculus. He had studied flower language as part of his private tutoring growing up. They represented charm and attraction. 

Charm and attraction?

Who were you charmed and attracted by? Because it certainly wasn’t him. 

Regulus scoffs to himself as he walks off, attempting to push away the gnawing feeling in his stomach. 

Until he hears your sparkling voice calling his name.

You run up to him across the frozen ground, a bouquet of Ranunculus in your hand. Quite unfortunately, the icy ground causes you to slip, and as you fall, Regulus catches you, your face pressed against his chest which is adorned with your scarf. His heart was racing so fast you were concerned he could be having a heart attack. You steady yourself, straightening your beanie, an embarrassed look on your face which immediately turns to a crestfallen expression as you notice the now crushed flowers. 

“Fuck…”

You felt like crying.

Your sadness was contagious as Regulus couldn’t bear to see his beautiful girl upset over anything. He quickly muttered a spell which brought the flowers back to life. Yes, he just  encouraged Y/N’s romantic pursuits towards another person by doing so, but if that’s what made you happy, he’d give it to you. 

Your face broke into a smile as you glanced to the side, a bit shaken at this bump in the road. 

“Thanks for saving my face from destruction, Reggie.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” He smiled, always enjoying their exchanges. 

With all the insecure thoughts buzzing in your head, you decided to kill them off once and for all, and pushed the bouquet of flowers towards Regulus, unable to make eye contact with his calculating eyes. You didn’t want to see them calculate just how much of an idiot your infatuation with him made you.

“For you.”

Regulus blinked, unable to comprehend what was going on. Maybe she hit her head against his bony chest a bit too hard. He stood there gaping, as still as a rock.

You took that as a sign he wasn’t interested, and, with an internal sigh, turned the other way, looking skyward to chase the tears away. Flowers hanging limp in your hand, you were about to walk away, when you felt Regulus’s soft grip on your wrist as he coaxed you back to him.

Regulus was beaming in a way that was slightly unsettling and heart warming at the same time. There was something about seeing one’s true grin for the first time. And it was purely contagious as you grinned back at him like a lovesick fool.

Silly, foolish love.

[dhampling]

the kitchen two 18+, 2.7k

nobody pining over the potwasher with the pretty face and snide tongue, and it feels like such a damn shame.

-

this started as a joke and now you're touching astarion up out back of a pizza express/olive garden/insert generic chain restaurant you both work at.

part one here.

cw: fem!reader x astarion, 18+, astarion is a potwasher, sex, reader smokes, astarion vapes, fingering, frottage, workplace copulation, not beta read, porn without plot pretty much, oh no, not gn reader as tags initially stated because im awful and copy pasted them over

FATTEST THANK YOU TO @bhaalism AND @lipstickghoulie for DEALING WITH ME as always <3

-

“You need to get laid.”

You take the vape from a waiting hand and hold it in your teeth. Feel the ridges where his own have left small indents in the plastic and nestle yours in the shiny crooks. 

“Hm?” 

“You. You’re practically drooling.” He blinks slowly as you look up to the clouds.

“I’m afraid my harem of devastatingly beautiful lovers are all indisposed. On the yacht, obviously.” You pull a face, huffing a long inhale and releasing the smoke in soft stutters. He snorts. 

“Ah. That’s why you reek of hormones, then?”

You smile.

“Probably. New schedule has done little for any conquests, I’ll be honest.”

Astarion takes a moment as you pass him back his vape, flipping it absentmindedly between deft fingers and scrunching his face.

“Unfortunate.”

You playfully slap his arm and he recoils in a brief snarling laughter, ending on some churlish half-smile as he leans back on the wall.

Those fingers. Slender, pale; always moving to some comment or chore with a slight flourish. You note how surprisingly unblemished they seem for his line of work, and the fact you’ve never seen him with hand balm. Even in the low light spilled scarce from the doorway they have a certain sparkle to them. Poise. 

He knows you’re looking, and you’re a little surprised it seems to matter. Coy as he inhales something deep. 

Obviously, it’s a possibility. It happens.

The nature of your work leads to frequent hookups amongst you, as it always has - some incestuous tangle of ex-lovers and yearning hopefuls all weaving the same sticky tables and navigating the age-old sore break-room banter when it inevitably cools between the sheets. Word travels fast, and not one of your workmates has escaped the hated minimum-wage service tradition of copulating with your colleagues in some drunken fumble after a particularly awful shift - but him, though. You can’t say that you’ve put out feelers per se, but his name has never been mentioned - either positively or negatively - on the grapevine, not that you can recall. Nobody pining over the potwasher with the pretty face and snide tongue, and it feels like such a damn shame.

In all fairness, he doesn’t lend himself to open fawning. He doesn’t mingle like the rest do. Never attends the seasonal socials thrown by upper management nor stays after hours drinking with the rest of the kitchen, as if he’d opted out of the greasy workplace ham-slamming ecosystem entirely. 

Above it all. Godlike. You can’t have that. 

You could invite him in, you think, as his head tilts ever-so-slightly toward you in the cool smoke. His nails tap mindless against gaudy green plastic and you picture little but those now-familiar obscene vignettes of him, those very same fingers taking the warm fat of your flesh by the fistful, bending you - pliable in the desperate chase of wanton heat - over the stainless steel of the chef’s station, with a forceful hand to the waist; smushing your face sideways on the counter as he humps you to visceral burning delight over and over, the relentless piston of hungry hips as he pounds into your drooling hole, and;- 

“At least they have each other, I suppose. Aboard that gorgeous yacht.”

Your eyes meet his, a mutual hum. Silence as the rain smatters on gravel.

It’d be easy. Sidle past him through the walk-in door left slightly ajar - vaping, of course; why else would the pot washer be in the cooler? - and feel the looming hope of flesh so close. A crooked smile in silent greeting. Take your time in bending for the lemons, apron ties bowed over your rear as some awful present. He’d never slap your ass so crudely. The lingering want for a tap of flesh, for him to feel the soft jiggle of solid fat on a quick palm; never to move to touch you until you’d made your intentions abundantly clear.

Your intentions.

You could accidentally back up against him whilst still bent and oh-so lost in search for whatever perfect fucking lemon takes this long to find, ass smacking onto his crotch, mouth shaped as an ‘o’ where sudden realisation takes hold, through layers of standard-issue service garb - a barely-there cant of your hips at the surprise friction of his cock. 

He’s been watching. Ogling. Angling himself toward you, as if having pictured how best to bury himself inside you should the opportunity arise. 

Would he grab you by the hips? Take rough handfuls of heated skin and flesh, pull you in to rub over his growing erection with an obscene snarl and heavy lids in a sharp frenzy? Snaking a deft hand down the front of your apron and under the waistband of your trousers, unhurried but firm; searching for the evidence he can practically smell; proof that you’ve been melting, the pool of slick in your panties growing gummy between stolen moments of fantasization on the floor and the molten rumble of low-laughter as he bends you over the mesh shelving, his lower abdomen being thoroughly stickied with a liberal helping of your arousal.

“What are you doing tonight?”

You turn to him with a nonchalant smile and he groans, upper lip curling toward his nose.

“I’ll be here. Same as you, I presume?”

“Not for too much longer, though - how about after?”

Astarion runs a hand through his hair coolly, vape returning to his pocket as he stands off the wall. 

“Not there yet. Who knows?”

The slight of a fox-wink as he twirls back through the door, jacket flaring out behind him before disappearing into the back-of-house once more.

-

Time passes as if stuck stiff under a violent gutter-sun.

The softest visions of him lit by the dented metal of the big old dishwasher, shifting to adjust himself under linens; and after much thought you decide he’d be so very pretty, touching himself something mad. Even more so than usual. Leaky and hot and gasping in mindless carnality under the blacklight of the back bathroom with penis in hand, wincing at the fevered paw moving dumb to offer any relief in his plight. A delicious sigh whilst rolling the hot skin back, bit-by-bit from the tip, working the gathering glisten ever-so-softly over his aching slit in delicate strokes. 

A stolen glance through the service window, through the bumbling hordes in their whites; a shock of silver hair, short sleeves cuffed, brows furrowed as he scrubs at some porcelain bowl with a strange blase determination. 

It’s effortless. He’s not posing, wholly unaware that you’re watching. Scalding from the heat lamps as your fingertips press into the ledge, waiting for plates for one of your tables and teetering back and forth into the gap. He picks another bowl from the crate with a practised hand, tossing it gently into the other and dunking it in the water with finesse. Scrubs. Holds the curving gloss to the light for a moment and narrows his eyes before repeating the process, then loading it onto the dishwasher crate. 

Mindless. 

God. All mindless. You could offer to help him after a busy evening, perhaps; take charge of the pre-wash as he loads the machine, well oiled in your steps as they grow ever closer to one another - surprisingly so, with your lack of practice. Let the hose spray free down your front in a fumble with the pressure lever on the side, and the moment of shock as you gasp; the warm water turning ice cool on your chest, no disguising the quick pebbling of your nipples underneath your sodden underclothes. 

Maybe it’s panic that compels him to dab at your chest with a dry towel as opposed to throwing it to you in a tight-scrunched ball and continuing to load the washer - but maybe it isn’t. 

Maybe it’s something else altogether. Those red eyes darken to a plush carnal smoulder and he tilts his head, begging you to close the gap, to give him permission; to stretch a palm just a little further over to the swell of your breast and cup the soft, heavy flesh through the thin layer of wet cloth.

He’s right, of course. Desperately so.

You do need to get laid.

-

Black sky overhead, speckled with pinpoint stars and laced with the twinge of cold that makes your nose feel funny - and you suspect he’s one of the last to leave this evening, so you wait a minute or two for management to finish their final walkthrough.

He appears with a flourish. Your lean-back on the wall remains as composed as it can as he barrels through the doors, bag high on his shoulder; and begins to fish in his back pocket for his vape.

“Astarion!”

He spins and meets your gaze with a fantastic grin, incisors sharp as his vape meets his lips. You can do this. A quick fuck. Everyone here does it, christ. 

“Yes, love?”

“Have you got a minute?”

“For you? Always.”

Purring. He’s purring.

You wave management farewell as they lock the doors - a small smile, yet you can’t let him slide from you. You can’t let the moment falter. The wet patch in your pants becomes horrifically apparent as you shift from side to side in the cool air, and you surmise that this needs resolving before your humility suppresses the want to have him between your legs - so you extend a hand. You reach for the vape between his lips and you bring it to your own, ever so slowly; holding it between your teeth in a coy stand-off.

“Bold.”

“I’m feeling bold.”

“Oh?”

“Walk with me.”

He offers you an arm in an exuberant display of mock-chivalry, bowing almost; and you take it to pull him closer to your side. 

“You’re in a good mood.” You muse, steering him down the dark alley and toward the main street whilst he sighs a laugh.

“I presume you’re about to buy me a drink, which is always most welcome.”

“I’ve never bought you a drink?”

“The pleasure is more in the receiving of the drink, not whoever’s buying it.’

He turns to look at you while you walk, tugging you closer. 

‘Unless you’d like me to find pleasure in you, my generous benefactor?’

You stop in your tracks, and he grins in place.

‘Because that’s what this is about; isn’t it, little lamb?’

Time stops, signalled by the slow stutter of your heart as his voice drops silken, taking both of your wrists in hand.

‘I can practically smell it, you know.”

“What makes you so sure?”

He pulls a face. Looks at you softly.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Sorry.”

“I won’t pretend it’s not been on my mind, though.”

“Hm?”

Astarion sidles closer, toes touching; breath cool on your cheeks. Mint. 

“Burying myself inside you. All kinds of-’

His hands gesture lightly around his head, controlled as they close in on your face.

‘Wicked images. The things we could do.”

Your eyes flutter closed as he cups your face, lips grazing the edge of his palm.

“I watch you too, you know - oh, it makes me hard just thinking about it. Humping the sink counter like some wanton… bitch;- whenever can I get a moment, just to get some friction, clothes ruined time and time again over obscene visions of myself buried deep inside-’

Takes your chin between pointer finger and thumb.

‘Your. Desperate. Cunt.’

He breathes a giggle.

‘Just as I assume yours are now, hm? Ruined? Oh, the sheer debauchery.”

Tuts. The breeze fades and he comes impossibly closer, hands ghosting the broad of your shoulders then cutting across to the dip of your waist and you inhale and that smell of him. The scent of by-your-side and beleaguered evenings, laced with something heady. Salt. You whimper when you eke the words out.

“You smell so good.” Practically whining, metaphorical drool linking the two of you as if invisible string. A deep beat of laughter.

“Sweet one. So do you.”

His nose buried in your hair, fingers grasping at the warmth of your hips through layers of sweaty workwear. Your core blazes white hot, legs failing you - he’s here. He wants you. God, you’d never thought it’d feel this good, even in your wildest fantasies; and yet you’re standing out in the bitter cold locked tight in by his hands and it exceeds every conceivable outcome for this conversation, ever, despite his cock not yet prodding you once. 

He takes the vape from where your fingers hang frozen and puts it into his pocket, guiding your fingers to the front of his trousers in your obscured embrace and pressing your palm to the front.

Hard. He’s ridiculously hard. Warm and pulsing with strong hips writhing as your hand gives him something to push against. 

“Fuck.”

“Nicely, now.”

His hand moves under your coat and to the front of your own trousers as you feel him through his, scrunching your fingers around his length; whilst he slides deft under the fixings just as you’d imagined he would. Ice to a fire. Moves quickly in the search for your slick like a moth mindless toward a flame, when he finds your slit and takes a single finger to press between your folds. 

“Ah. There she is.’

Your breath catches on his words,  

‘My darling girl, you’re soaking. How long have you been like this?”

“Just today, or on the whole? I can’t remember a time where I’ve not wanted you, not since that first day outside.”

He groans quietly, eyes rolling back into his skull as he coaxes more of your spill forth onto the flat of his palm with a skilled finger toying at the hood of your clit. It feels incredible. Like a warm bath or fresh pizza times a thousand. 

“Did you like the idea of my spit in your mouth, love? Forgetting your smokes on purpose, buying me treats just so you could share? So you could… take me, in your mouth, and wallow in having me there in secret? Bad girl.” A sordid whisper. Heady. Love. Bad girl. You’re struggling for air, newly weakened flesh bowled completely over by his brutal advances, and it’s heaven. You could die here in this alley and you’d be wholly satisfied with life knowing he touched you. He was hard for you, his cock desperately seeking solace in the warmth of your core, to christen your cunt with lashings of himself inside you. Yours. You. 

You thought your resolve was stronger than this. That you could match him in whatever game he potentially wanted to play and do it with flair - but as he stands in front of you, hand crudely down your trousers round the back of your shared workplace; you have no desire to play coy any longer. He’s giving himself to you. 

“Kiss me?”

And he does. A heady drawl as his lips stoop to meet yours, a string of yes-yes-yeses whispered flush into your open mouth as he moves with you, fingering with reverent strokes whilst your hand fiddles hungrily with his underclothes and he laughs with a satisfied ease as if a Roman Emperor, hosting a banquet on the eve of some grand resounding victory. 

Right here, by the bins under the watchful eyes of the CCTV cameras dotted along the brick - it doesn’t work. It can’t happen here. Your brain fizzes all shades of yellow and orange as you take his arm, breaking the open-mouthed kiss with urgency and tugging his head down until his ear hangs dazed a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“Yours or mine?”

“Where’s closer?”

Gravel. Cheeks flushed, hands frisking your waistband once more as you swat him off.

“Yours, probably.”

“You checked the staff files, didn’t you? Naughty thing.”

You huff into a slight hunchback, bemused by his deduction.

“Maybe. Are you mad about it?”

Your hand grabs at his cock through his trousers once more and offers a hard squeeze, a stuttered moan from his mouth.

“Meh. So long as you make it up to me, yes?”

He pauses to press a chaste kiss to your mouth as you both rebutton and fumbles to take your hand in his. 

“God. Yes. I promise.”

“Come along then, temptress. Mine -’

Another to the back of your hand, soft and deep.

‘- it is.”

-

[miks-delusional-blog]

A Night To Remember- Mizu x Fem! Reader

Tags: Fluff to angst sorry not sorry.

Notes: A/Ns at the end, based on a suggestion and the Beabadoobee X Laufey song, Mizu x Fem!reader, 1239 words

For Context: Mizu has travelled to London and is attending a ball hosted by Abijah Fowler. She hates it there, until she meets you.

When Mizu vowed her revenge, she told herself she’d do anything.

Kill anyone.

But being in these tight and scratchy foreign clothes, surrounded by these ogling British aristocrats…maybe revenge wasn’t worth it. She’d gone from being stared at like she was a demon to being stared at like she was some exotic animal on a world tour. Mizu didn’t know which she preferred.

She should’ve just killed Fowler in Japan. That smug pig. Going around the party as if Mizu wasn’t going to kill him after she was finished with him.

Mizu stood at the edge of the room. She tried leaning against the wall but the tight clothes didn’t let her. So she stood close to the wall.

Occasionally, Fowler would talk to a party patron and gesture towards her, and they’d laugh or raise a brow. She didn’t know what he was saying, but she didn’t need to.

She just needed to get through the ball without beheading him. 

Mizu hears a woman’s voice next to her, jumping her a little. She turns her head, her eyes meeting yours. 

You speak again in foreign tongues. Mizu tries to form some words in English. She hasn’t picked up as much as she’d like.

You smile softly, saying words she can’t understand until…

“...how about Japanese? Can you understand me now?” 

Mizu’s eyes widened in recognition, “Yes- I can.”

You smile a little wider, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly, “finally. I was running out of languages.” 

“You speak Japanese?” 

“Yes… but not as well as I might like.”

“Well enough. Not many foreigners speak Japanese.”

“Not many Japanese adventures outside of Japan… And technically you are the foreigner.” You say with a small chuckle.

“I’m always a foreigner.”

Your brow rises slightly, “do you travel a lot?”

“Recently, yes.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m… here on business.”

“Business huh?.. Vague. Though, that suits the mysterious persona you’ve put on for the party guests.”

Mizu’s lips twitch down, an eyebrow raises. “Mysterious persona?” 

“Yes. You naturally stick out. And no one at this party can talk to you. Except for Mr Fowler, and well… me now.” You look out at the party guests, Mizu’s eyes follow. 

Her natural glare catches the eyes of some of the guests, who quickly avert their gazes. 

“Is that why you came to talk to me?” her hardened gaze falls back onto you.

“I was curious about you... And wanted some conversational practice.” You lower your gaze to your skirt as her tone becomes colder. “And I suppose I wondered if you wanted some company… It must be strange experiencing a foreign land.”

Mizu pauses for a moment, observing you. “...It’s definitely different to what I am used to.”

Across the ballroom, the band picks up their instruments, and the party guests pair up, gathering in the centre. 

“How about some cultural enrichment?” You take Mizu’s arm before she can protest, pulling her to the dance floor. “Like this.” You place one of her hands on your waist, above your hip, and hold her other hand about your shoulder height.

Mizu’s hand on your waist loosens a little, “What are we-” the music begins.

“Just trust me, stranger. Follow my lead.” You smile as you press her hand against your waist, stepping to the music. 

Mizu looks around at the other party guests as she tries to step with you, her feet accidentally knocking into yours. You let out a wince, her gaze snapping back to yours. “Sorry-” She steps back.

“Relax, I’m fine…Just, keep your eyes on me. Follow my lead…” You pull her back to a standstill before the both of you step to the music. The two of you find a rhythm. Her shoulders began to relax, not realising how tense they had become.

“Not a dancer?” you ask.

“...This is not my kind of dance.” Mizu gazes down at her feet, trying her best to keep up.

“You’re a quick learner.” 

She glances up at you. “I try to adapt to my environment.” 

“And how’s that going?” You smirk a little.

Mizu looks back down at her feet, slightly embarrassed.

Your gaze softens a little. “Maybe… I can help you adapt. Give you an English lesson or two…” 

“I… don’t plan to stay long.”

“How long?”

“I will leave as soon as I finish my business here.”

“Well… I’ll still be in London, however long your business takes.” 

There’s a moment of just movement. Just the two of you stepping to the music. 

You chuckle. Mizu’s gaze flickers up to you as you do, and her eyebrow raises slightly. 

“Sorry..” you begin, “I realised that… I haven’t even asked your name… or told you mine…yet you’ve allowed me to drag you to the dance floor. I’m so sorry.” Your apology is laced with laughter.

The corners of Mizu’s lips quirk up at the ridiculousness. “I suppose I should have introduced myself… I just got… excited about finding someone who can understand me.”

“I excite you?” 

Mizu lets out a soft scoff. 

“I’ve been told I excite a lot of men.” You smirk.

“I’m sure you do.”

“So, what is your name stranger?” You ask as you adjust your hand to rest on Mizu’s shoulder, her hand gripping your waist tighter without your aid. 

“My name is Mizu.”

“Mizu? Like water… the stuff you drink…or bathe in?” Your head tilts a little.

“Yes.” Her eyebrows furrow a little.

“Hm…Just Mizu?”

“Just Mizu.” 

“Hm…” I think about pestering more.

“What’s your name then?” She says before you can act on your thoughts.

You tell her your name, which she tries to say back at you. You say your name again, and again a little slower. Mizu tries a little harder to say it.

You smile, “you are a fast learner.”

“You’re a good teacher…” She smiles as she repeats your name.

“Well, Mizu, I’m lucky to have a quick student.” 

The rhythmic dance slows to an end as the song ends. You separate from her and bow, which she copies awkwardly. As your gazes meet you giggle, which she in turn smiles. 

The two of you walk off the dance floor, retreating to the edge of the ballroom to a large window. 

“The moon is pretty tonight,” you remark.

“It is.” She replies as she glances at you.

“So…Mizu… How did you find Western dancing? Feel culturally enriched?” 

“It was… Different… Culturally enriching.” She smiles. 

You smile in return. “We could… try more culturally enriching activities whilst you’re in London. If you’d like.”

“I…” as she’s about to speak her eyes catch with Fowler’s, and a fiery pit flickers in her stomach, her smile fading to something cold. “I…intend to do my business… efficiently.”

“Oh…I see.” Your smile falters. “Well…I hope this night of distraction doesn’t hold you back on your endeavours…That…you gained something of value out of…our time.”

Mizu’s gaze falls back to you, but your eyes don’t meet this time. “...I did.”

You smile softly, but it’s not like it was before.”Well…I’m glad.” A voice calls you over, to which you turn your head. You glance back at Mizu. “I suppose I must go…It was nice meeting you Mizu. Good luck with your business. I hope you resolve it efficiently.”

Mizu bows her head at you, replying with a quiet and polite,  “Thank you…”

You return the gesture before walking away, leaving Mizu back on her path of revenge.

Ending notes: and like the phoenix I rise from the dead. I'm so sorry to @nanafan707 I promised this many a month ago. It's been so long I think their account is inactive lmao. Anyways, I wanted to post this, I've thought about this idea a lot over the summer, and now I have produced. I hope you guys enjoyed this.

[daisyvisions]

Unspoken Words (Pt. 3)

➺ Pairing: best friend!Sangyeon x afab!reader x enemy!Hyunjae

➺ Summary: If someone were to tell you that you'd be in a fake relationship with the person you despise the most just to make your best friend jealous, you would've laughed in their face. But here you are... caught up in this exact situation.

➺ Word Count: 7.4K

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI) very angsty but with a happy ending, jealousy, confessions, some arguments, mentions of being drunk, heated makeouts, groping, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f! receiving), slight masturbation, marking, neck biting, slight dry humping, pet names (sweetheart) lots and lots of sexual tension y'all (pls let me know if I missed anything!)

➺ A/N:  Okay hear me out... it wasn't supposed to take this long for me to write this I swear 😭 but life got in the way huhu but anyways WOW 7.4K words? this is the longest fic I've ever written! This is the last part of this series and while I'm sad it has to come to an end, I'm just very proud of this series as a whole! Proofread once, I hope you enjoy this last part!

➺ Part 1 | Part 2

➺ Network and tags: @deoboyznet @winterchimez @snowflakewhispers @aimeecarreros and the anon that reminded me to write for it bless you I hope you see this!

As your body sways to the rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers, you can't help but become immersed in the kaleidoscope of colors moving around you. You finally feel relaxed enough after a couple of drinks and slowly let everything around you move through you like an ocean wave.

It's been a while since you've been this loose, especially with all the college requirements piling on you like bricks. You needed this, especially since it was your birthday. You deserved to have a break and not think of any responsibilities for a moment and have fun with the person you adore the most… your best friend. Speaking of best friend, where the hell is he right now?

Your mind pulls you away from your reverie as your eyes frantically search for the man who was with you all night. The man who had your whole birthday planned out and dragged you to this place. And just like a moth to a flame, you spot him easily across the room sitting by the bar as he watches you with his warm eyes, the growing smile on his face as soon as his eyes finally meet yours.

Without hesitation, you make your way towards him, weaving through the sea of bodies. You stop right in front of where he sits, your body wedged between his legs as you place your hands on his shoulders for stability. His eyes grow wide as you slowly lean closer to him, wondering what you might do next.

"C'mon Sangyeon, dance with me!" Your mouth is dangerously close to his ear as you try your best to speak above the reverberating music around you.

"I think I'll pass. I'm good right here," he responds as his hand holds your waist to stop you from swaying.

"You can't say no, it's my birthday, remember?" you remind him, your tone playful yet insistent.

Sangyeon hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the crowded dance floor. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face. He lets out a heavy sigh, remembering that he was the one who set that rule for the evening to begin with. It was the condition he had suggested in order for you to say yes to going out tonight.

"Okay… let's dance," he sighs, quickly chugging down the rest of his drink before allowing you to lead him onto the dance floor.

As soon as you step foot on the dance floor, Sangyeon grabs your wrist and makes you twirl for him. You laugh at the silly gesture but continue to dance with him and let the music move through both of you.

He laughs at how loose-limbed your movements have become but still tries to match your energy nonetheless despite not being much of a dancer. Sangyeon can't help but smile as butterflies soar throughout his body.

He can't believe how lucky he is to have you in his life, wishing for moments like this to never end.

Later on in the night as you both walk back to your apartment, Sangyeon wraps his arm around you, trying to keep your balance as you yap about anything and everything. For some, this would be considered bothersome, having to be the caretaker of their tipsy friend. But to Sangyeon, it doesn't matter as long as it was you.

Aside from getting you home safe, all he can focus on is the beautiful sound of your voice and the way you hold onto him closely. The smell of your perfume was far more intoxicating than the drinks you downed tonight.

When you both finally make it to your front door, you suddenly spin around to hug Sangyeon tightly. "This was the best birthday ever, thank you so much Sangyeon," you mumble against his shoulder.

"Anything for my girl," he smiles, returning the same hug you're giving him.

His cheek presses against your head, taking all the strength he could muster to not kiss your temple. You both hug each other for a little while longer, not wanting this moment to end. As soon as you reluctantly pull away from one another, Sangyeon chuckles at the tousled appearance of your hair.

"Here, let me just—" Sangyeon's hand reaches for the loose strand of hair and gently tucks it behind your ear. You impulsively press your cheek onto his palm, letting the heat of his skin cradle you as you sigh dreamily.

You look up at him with these sultry eyes, and Sangyeon can't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. This kind of thing has never happened between the two of you. He tries his best to ignore the sudden warmth blooming at the back of his neck but fails as soon as his eyes gravitate towards your lips almost touching his palm.

"Sangyeon?"

Beep, beep, beep! The sound of your alarm rings as you wake up from your dream. You find yourself smiling as you open your eyes, but reality hits you like a lightning strike as you soon realize who was the male lead of your dream.

You aren't upset because the dream ended so abruptly, but rather the scenario reminds you of a time when you and Sangyeon were happy. When you two were still friends and not in the shit show you're currently in where he makes you feel like a total stranger.

Before you start wallowing in your own sadness, you rub your eyes and immediately get up from your bed, stretch, and check your phone. Today, you're assigned to check the inventory and the progress of everything the team needs for the play next week. While that sounds easy to do, it also means you have to quality check and sort out all the props, costumes, and other items before the tech rehearsal.

Today is definitely going to be a long one, but at least it will give you enough distraction from overanalyzing that dream, right?

You slowly exhale a sigh of frustration as you continue untangling the mess of rope on your lap. Not only have you been trying to straighten them out for the past hour or so, but you also start to feel a numbing pain in your tailbone as you sit cross-legged on the stage. It was a mistake positioning yourself here as you figure out this task, but at least you were a few more tasks away from calling it a day.

"Didn't expect to see you here—" A deep voice startles you. You were so focused on unraveling the rope from its tangled knots that you didn't pay attention to the creaking sound of the auditorium's entrance.

You clutch your chest, trying to calm your heartbeat while your eyes search for the source of the voice. You'd think finding who the voice belonged to would calm your nerves, but you suddenly feel your heart pounding harder than it did a few seconds ago when your eyes finally lock in on the other person's face. Oh god… Sangyeon.

"Uh—" You try to swallow down the non-existent lump stuck in your throat. "The rest of the team couldn't make it today so I volunteered to help…"

"I know, I signed up with you weeks ago to check on inventory, remember?" He awkwardly laughs. And in that moment, it only occurred to you that you did in fact sign up with Sangyeon for this weeks ago, the whole rift between you two making you forget that little detail.

"R-right…" You turn away to focus on the task at hand before he spots the embarrassed look on your face, quietly praying that he will decide to just leave you to your work.

But apparently, the universe had other plans for you today.

Sangyeon starts walking down the center aisle of the auditorium. The sound of his footsteps is so slow and gentle it's more nerve-wracking than any sound you've ever heard. You really do try your best to ignore him, but that alone starts to become difficult as the faint scent of his warm cologne starts to invade your senses.

"Need a hand?" Sangyeon offers, taking a step closer to the edge of the stage.

"No, I've got it," you quickly reply as your eyebrows furrow in frustration at a particularly difficult knot.

Sangyeon chuckles at your stubbornness, finding it cute rather than annoying. Suddenly, he places his hands on the edge of the stage and pulls himself up, his figure now closer to you than ever before as he sits right across from you.

"Here—" He grabs the tumbleweed of rope from your hands and starts to untangle the mess effortlessly.

"You were always a stubborn one, huh?" he teases, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

"I only learn from the best," you reply, sharing a slightly awkward laugh together.

"Come on," Sangyeon says, his voice softer now. "I'll help you so you don't stay up too late."

At first, you were worried about how awkward it would be to have Sangyeon around you for a couple more hours considering everything that has happened between you two. But much to your surprise, it was like nothing happened at all, as if you two were just picking up where your friendship had left off.

The first couple of minutes or so were obviously weird, but as soon as Sangyeon made a joke about an incident that happened backstage weeks ago with two of the crew members, you couldn't help but burst out laughing. From that point on, you two were talking nonstop as you tried to untangle the rope together. And for the first time in weeks, you both felt that missing part of you become whole again.

By the time you both finished straightening out the rope, he asked you what other tasks you had left so he could work on some while you did the other half. You both got up to do your tasks and met back at the same spot where you sat cross-legged from one another to finish retouching the paint on some props.

As the night went on, Sangyeon couldn't help but steal glances at you as you focused on painting the item in your hand. A warm, fuzzy feeling engulfed his entire body, remembering how it felt to be around you like this again.

He suddenly snapped back into reality as you let out a loud sigh as you brush the loose hair from your cheek with the back of your hand. A light streak of paint smudges your skin, making Sangyeon chuckle at the sight of it.

"What's so funny?" You looked at him quizzically. Sangyeon couldn't help but smile at your confused face. Without hesitation, he put down the brush in his hand and leaned closer to you.

"You've got a little something—" He held your head steady with his palm as his thumb tried to remove the smudge of paint on your cheek.

You suddenly became aware of how close you were to Sangyeon. You could see every detail of his face. Your heart began to race as you realized he was staring at you intently, his breath catching in his throat.

"T-there. Just a bit of paint, that's all—" Sangyeon stammered, his eyes never leaving your face. Before he could lower his hand, you impulsively grabbed his wrist a little more firmly than you had hoped, instantly missing the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

You melt at the touch of his caress, eyes closing as his warm hand envelops your skin. You turn your head slightly for your lips to lightly touch his inner wrist. Your heart starts pounding out of your chest; it's as if this moment seems too familiar to you.

"Sangyeon?" You say his name under your breath, wondering if he could hear how loud your heart is beating in this moment. Wondering if his heart is also beating as loud as yours.

Sangyeon's lips part, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to find the right words to say. How can he, especially when you look at him with deep longing? After everything that has happened between you two?

He sees your eyes falter with his lack of response as you try to slowly pull away from him. Regret starts to consume him, knowing that this would be the last time he'd ever get close to you again.

No, he can't lose you, not like this. It's either he does it now or regrets this for the rest of his life.

"Fuck it—" Sangyeon grips the back of your neck and pulls you towards him, your lips suddenly pressed against his.

You impulsively place your hand on his chest and push him away, scanning his face for his reaction. But all you can see is how dilated his pupils are, looking at you with an intense gaze you have never seen before. Suddenly, the air around becomes stuffy and surges with desire all at once.

Without a word, you grab the fabric of his shirt and pull him towards you desperately as you smash your lips against his once more. Sangyeon responds with the same level of desperation as he cups your face between his warm hands and presses a deeper kiss onto you. He groans at the sound of your faint whimper as he hastily pushes the props and other items that stand between you two to the side, not giving a damn if they get all messed up.

His body hovers over yours as he leans closer to you, gently guiding your back onto the wooden floor of the stage. Your hands try to cling onto his broad shoulders, but as soon as you lay completely flat beneath Sangyeon, you find yourself grabbing onto the back of his hair and pulling him closer than ever before.

He inserts his knee between your legs, causing them to split apart while he tries his best not to place his entire weight onto you. Your core accidentally brushes against his thigh as you both adjust yourselves, gasping into his mouth at the delicious friction below. Sangyeon wastes no time slipping his tongue between your lips, moaning at how your tongues move together so perfectly. He needed to taste more of you or else he would go insane.

As Sangyeon's lips pull away from yours, they start to make a trail from your jaw down to the column of your neck. Each kiss feels as if he's leaving permanent marks on you despite not actually sucking on your skin. Your faint whimpers and sighs of satisfaction encourage him to keep going. He was so lost in the moment that he had forgotten where you were. But that didn't matter to him at all.

All he could think about was having you in his arms again.

Just as things were starting to become even more heated between you two, a loud ringing echoes in the air. The source was coming from your phone, which was just a few inches away from Sangyeon. At first, you tried to ignore it, too caught up in the sensation of Sangyeon's lips on your neck, his hands inching dangerously close to areas that made your core throb in excitement. But when the phone kept on ringing, you couldn't avoid the curiosity any longer.

You reach for your phone, trying to calm yourself before answering so that whoever was calling you wouldn't suspect anything odd on your end (but that alone was difficult as Sangyeon deepened the kisses on your neck).

"Hello?" Your phone fumbles against your ear as you try to hold it steady. "Oh, Hyunjae, I was just—"

As soon as you said his name, Sangyeon froze. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, suddenly bringing him back to reality. He chuckles under his breath, mentally slapping himself for getting so carried away with you like this that he forgot the person thats between you and him.

Sangyeon lets go of your waist and abruptly gets up to straighten his clothes and hair. Without warning, he hops off the stage and walks towards the exit of the auditorium. You try to process what the fuck is happening all the while maintaining your current conversation with Hyunjae over the phone.

"I'll call you back, Hyunjae. Give me a sec—" You get up and try to follow Sangyeon quickly.

By the time you burst through the theater's doors, you see Sangyeon walking to the nearest fountain to take a sip and splash water on his face. You walk towards him carefully as he lets out a sigh of frustration and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Sangyeon?" you call out softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. But he flinches away from your touch, causing a massive ache in your chest.

"This... this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here," he replies, his voice cold and distant.

"What? Sangyeon, can you please just—"

"It's nothing," he interrupts you.

"It's not nothing. Tell me."

"Seriously, it's nothing. Leave it alone."

"Sangyeon, cut the bullshit," you snap, your patience wearing thin.

"What?" he asks, his tone defensive.

"You've been acting weird towards me ever since the day after my birthday, and I want to know why," you say, your voice rising with frustration. "Why have you been avoiding me? Making me feel like shit?"

Something in Sangyeon seems to snap at your words. "You want to know what it is?" he practically shouts. "Hyunjae. He's my fucking problem. Doesn't help that I see you two everywhere I go and practically hear you two at each other like animals!"

"I didn't even know you were coming over that day!" you retort. "This all wouldn't have happened if you had just not cut me off like that. It fucking hurt, Sangyeon. Then now you can't just suddenly walk into my life again like nothing happened, kiss me, and expect everything to be okay!"

"You wouldn't understand," Sangyeon says, his voice suddenly tired.

"Understand what exactly?" you press.

"I—" Sangyeon struggles to get the words out of his throat.

"That night, your birthday party," he says slowly, searching your face. "You don't remember anything at all?"

"Stop with the cryptic shit and just spit it out!" you say, your patience completely gone.

"Fine!" Sangyeon explodes. "You want to know why I've been avoiding you this whole time?"

You nod, bracing yourself for whatever he's about to say.

"You kissed me."

His words hit you like a train. "W-what?"

"And you wanna know what hurts the most? The way you looked at me the next day when I almost tried to kiss you again. You looked at me with this terrified expression on your face, as if you regretted what had happened." His voice lowers as he explains. You don't notice the tiny dots of tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"W-why didn't you just tell me?" you murmur, the pieces falling into place as you realize your dream from last night was actually a forgotten memory.

"I panicked," Sangyeon admitted. "What if you didn't mean it at all and I just made a fool of myself? I didn't want to ruin our friendship. And I know how dumb it was of me to cut you off, but it hurt knowing that you didn't feel the same way and I would have to live with that memory every time I looked at you."

A numbing silence fills the air for a moment.

"I—I couldn't face you after knowing what your lips felt like, what it felt like to hold you. I'm a coward, I know that now. I should've apologized during the dance, but it was too late."

You stood there, frozen, as Sangyeon poured his heart out. Then he suddenly asks you a question that made your heart stop.

"If I hadn't kissed you just a while ago, would you still have talked to me? Would you have chosen me over Hyunjae?" Before you could formulate a response, your phone rang again. It was Hyunjae. Sangyeon's face fell, and he took a step back.

"Go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll finish up the work inside."

You stand frozen as Sangyeon walks away. Everything suddenly feels too intense that you don’t even realize the tears that start to run down your cheeks. You need to get out of here or else you’ll drive yourself insane.

You grab your phone, fingers hovering over Hyunjae's number. At first you hesitate, torn between telling him the truth about your feelings for Sangyeon or seeking physical comfort to forget about everything. Your irrational brain picks the latter option instead.

“My place tonight? 😉”

Everything for you was completely a blur. One minute you're standing still outside the auditorium, the next you're pouncing on Hyunjae as soon as he rings your doorbell. You were so in over your head you had no grasp of time or any coherent thought.

"Looks like someone's missed me a bit too much, hm?" Hyunjae mumbles as he kisses you messily, pressing you against your front door.

"Just shut up and fuck me already, will you?" You breathe out, grabbing his hair in your hands.

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks before you both start hastily walking into the living room, leaving a trail of discarded clothes in your path.

To Hyunjae, this wouldn't be the first time he's seen you so worked up like this over him. But something about you right now seemed a bit off. Yes, seeing you incredibly horny like this was exciting, but your movements did not match the energy in your eyes. It was almost like you were on autopilot to him.

There's definitely something bothering you, he thinks. Or maybe you've been working all day and just need a way to relax. He'll probably check in on you later but for now, all he can think of is hearing those beautiful moans you make for him.

Too eager to get a taste of you, Hyunjae drags you over to your couch as he pulls you in to straddle his lap. He wastes no time littering your neck with kisses, groping your ass while you grind on his growing bulge.

"C'mere." He grabs your face in his hands, admiring little details of your face while he smiles to himself. "Tired from today?"

"Mhm." You hastily reply, wanting to not think of anything else except Hyunjae's touch. So you lean in to kiss his neck while moving your hips on his lap, your hands struggling to unbuckle his belt.

The way you answered just now threw Hyunjae off. There was definitely something wrong with you. How does he know? It was all in your eyes. Usually, you looked at Hyunjae directly when he called your attention. But now? It was like you were trying to completely avoid any sort of eye contact with him, and that was making him feel uneasy.

"Hey, uh—are you alright?" He calmly asks while gently holding your hips.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You mumble against his throat. Hyunjae thought he might be overthinking, but the more you struggled to unbuckle his belt (which was not a difficult task for you in the past), he couldn't continue on with you like this.

He calls out your name, hoping you'd stop to look at him, but you don't pay him mind. He says your name two more times and you still ignore him. Instead, he grabs your wrists and holds them up to finally get your attention.

"Talk to me, please—" He searches your face, trying to get a better look at you.

"There's nothing to talk about, Hyunjae." You huff out, irritated that he suddenly halted your movements.

"You think I'm dumb? There is clearly something wrong and you don't wanna say it," he says sternly, trying not to get too irritated with how you're acting towards him.

"I'm telling you there's nothing wrong."

"I don't believe that at all."

"Ugh, Hyunjae, can you just stop? It's none of your business!"

"It is my business if it's making you this upset—"

"Why do I have to tell you anyway?! It's not like you're my real boyfriend—" Your eyes widen as you suddenly regret saying those last words. And to add fuel to the fire, the way Hyunjae looks at you makes you want to vomit. You've never seen his face drop in an instant. The way the light in his eyes burned out so quick, too.

"Hyunjae, I— I didn't mean to, I'm so—"

"You're right," Hyunjae interrupts you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. But I am your friend. And I deserve to know what's been bothering you because I care about you so much I hate seeing you like this."

His stern but concerned voice hits you so fast you end up bursting into tears on the spot. Sobbing hysterically into his chest as you cry out all the pent-up emotions you locked away from tonight.

Hyunjae instantly wraps his arms around you and envelops you in a warm embrace. He gently strokes your hair while steadying his own breath, waiting for you to calm down until you feel better. You both sit in silence for a few minutes until Hyunjae's voice breaks the ice.

"It's about Sangyeon, isn't it?" He says calmly. Your head springs up in response.

"How did you—"

"The last time I saw you cry like this was when you were outside the gym during the dance." Hyunjae cups your face and wipes the remaining tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

"And well… if you were crying about me, we know it's for an entirely different reason." He smirks, trying to lighten the mood. You let out a faint laugh as he continues to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

"You should be with him—" Hyunjae says as he looks into your eyes. Before you can even ask, he continues. "That's who you want to be with, right? That's who you should be with right now, not me."

"Hyunjae, I—" You shake your head in disbelief. "What about you?"

"Me?" He asks with a surprised tone. "This isn't about me! It's about you. I'm not the one you need, we both know that. We both knew that at the very beginning. It was always Sangyeon." Hyunjae's voice starts getting weaker the more he speaks out the truth.

"I've always seen the way he looked at you and how you looked at him. It's clear as day that you both need each other more than you both realize it."

"But what about our agreement?" You ask him softly.

"Remember the first rule? If one of us wants to stop this thing at any given moment, the contract will end." He pauses his thought as he looks at you a little longer, taking you to memory before letting out a big sigh.

"And besides, our agreement broke a long time ago."

"What do you mean?" Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Well—" Hyunjae's cheeks start to warm up. "I fell in love with you the night of our first time." He faintly smiles. Rule number two, if any of us catch some sort of feelings for one another, the contract is immediately terminated.

"That night, you looked at me like I was the most important person in the world. That I wasn't the guy everyone in school knew as some kind of dick. You looked at me as Hyunjae, the real Hyunjae." He brushes a hair behind your ear. "How dumb of me to fall for those pretty eyes of yours." He sighs once more, trying his best to not let you see his lips quivering.

"I'm so sorry—" You start to tear up, knowing that this would probably be the last moments you have with Hyunjae.

"Hey, don't go all soft on me just because I said that, alright?" Hyunjae tries to bring energy back into his voice.

"I knew what I was getting into. You deserve to be happy, and if I'm not the reason for your happiness and you're stuck with me, that would break my heart even more."

He grabs your face so you could look him in the eye properly. "Got it?" You nod in response.

"Now c'mon. Be a good hostess and walk me out of your apartment." Hyunjae smiles before grabbing your wrists and pulling you up from his lap.

He helps you grab your clothes on the floor and even dresses you up and does the same for himself after. By the time he sets one foot out your front door, he suddenly turns around to face you.

"Can I just have one more request from you before this is all over?" he asks.

"Oh? What would that be?" You look up at him.

"Just one kiss goodbye." He smirks playfully. You chuckle before nodding your head to give him the go signal.

You close your eyes waiting for the warmth of his lips on yours for the last time, but instead feel it on your forehead.

"Don't be a stranger, alright?" he places his hand on your shoulder and gently rubs it for the last time before completely heading out the door.

For the last couple of hours, Sangyeon did nothing but lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling. He could still feel his heart pounding in his ears from your heated exchange at the auditorium earlier this evening. What made things worse was the fact he could still feel your lips on his, and your little sighs of pleasure were replaying in his head.

Where did it all go wrong? Was it when he offered to help you? Or when you leaned into his palm just like you did when you first kissed him? He couldn't stop mentally beating himself up for going off like that on you when you didn't even remember that night to begin with.

And now, not only did he pour his heart out, but there's also a guaranteed chance you may never speak to him again. He regrets this night more than keeping the truth from you.

2 A.M. was what was read on the clock of his bedside table when he turned his head. He hardly even noticed the time go by as too many thoughts and emotions were stirring in his head. His head started to ache from staying up too late.

It was difficult to forget everything that had happened between you two, but sleep seemed like the best option for him at the moment to distance himself from the issue. Sangyeon tried to close his eyes and count sheep; he could slowly start to feel himself drift into sleep until he heard loud knocks on his front door.

Pissed off, he groans and trudges to see who had interrupted his moment to fall sleep. Sangyeon swings the door open quickly, hoping to show the person on the other side his irritable mood.

"You better have a good explanation as to why you're here—" Sangyeon's eyes widen at the unexpected visitor.

"Hyunjae? What— what are you doing here?" he asks.

"Do you love her?" Hyunjae looks him in the eye.

"What?" Sangyeon's eyebrows furrow at the vague question.

"I said," Hyunjae sighs out of frustration, "Do you love her? Because she fucking loves you, man. And if you don't go over there right now—" Hyunjae takes a step forward, his figure almost towering over Sangyeon's.

"You will lose the greatest person that has ever come into your life," he asserted firmly. Out of nowhere, Hyunjae pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and shoves it into Sangyeon's hand.

"No time to explain, just go!" Hyunjae increases his voice slightly.

Sangyeon stays still for a moment, trying to process what the hell is happening right now, then moves hastily to grab his phone, keys, and put on his shoes. As soon as Sangyeon locks his front door, he turns around to face Hyunjae.

"T-thanks, man. I owe you one," he humbly says. Hyunjae faintly smiles, nodding in return. A silent truce being made between the two.

Sangyeon drives to your place like a maniac, not caring if he has run any stop lights or whatever. He doesn't care at all. All he can think about is getting there in time to see you before it's too late to win you back. By the time he reaches your front door, he takes a deep breath before ringing your doorbell.

You open the door slowly, cautious about who could be visiting you at this time. The moment you peek and get a glimpse of Sangyeon's face, your face knits in confusion.

"S-Sangyeon? What are you doing here?" You look up at him. Sangyeon can see how red and puffy your eyes are; it almost makes him mentally beat himself up once more, but he will deal with that later.

"I came to see you," he matches your whisper. "Can I come in?" You nod and open the door wider as he takes off his shoes, lets himself in, and places the bouquet of flowers down on a table. You're slightly stunned as soon as you close the door and turn around to see Sangyeon standing close to you.

"W-what are you doing?" Your voice quivers as your eyes search his.

"What I should've done a long time ago—" he gently grabs your face in his palms, observing your reaction to his touch before leaning in to give you a light kiss on the lips. You try your best to kiss him back with the same firmness despite feeling incredibly weak from crying your eyes out the whole night.

When Sangyeon pulls away from the kiss, he then gently kisses your forehead and slowly litters your face with his kisses. You instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer while your eyes flutter shut and melt into his touch. Tears of joy start streaming down your face as your heartbeat slowly paces itself to a calm rhythm.

"You really hurt me, you know?" you croak.

"And I'll never do that again." Sangyeon looks deeply into your eyes. "I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you." He kisses your forehead once more before pulling you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your hips while yours move to wrap around his neck.

You stay like this for a while, basking in each other's warm embrace. As Sangyeon opens his eyes for a moment, he catches his reflection staring back at him through a mirror nearby. When his eyes drift to the back of your figure, his heartbeat starts to rise intensely.

It did not occur to him that when you opened the door, you were wearing nothing but a short and very thin nightgown. Naturally, the silk of the nightgown bunches up as his arms hold your waist, giving him a tasteful glimpse of not only your lace underwear but also the fact that the undergarment you’re wearing shows your ass beautifully.

Sangyeon suddenly starts a coughing fit, trying to beat his chest to clear his throat while you're taken aback.

"Are you okay? What happened?" You hold his shoulder while he attempts to regain his composure.

"I—uh—" He scratches the back of his head, trying his best to avoid looking in your direction. But that fails when you catch him scanning your figure and his cheeks suddenly glowing a shade of pink.

"I—I can turn around while you grab a robe." His eyes look around your apartment. You giggle at his sudden embarrassment, finding it rather endearing more than anything. You take a step closer to him, your bodies practically millimeters apart.

"It's alright Sangyeon, you can look." You try to hide the smirk forming on your lips.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman here, okay?" He replies, still trying to avoid your gaze. But he is instantly brought back to face you as you pull his chin with your thumb and index finger to get him to look directly into your eyes.

"But… what if I don't want you to be a gentleman tonight?" you whisper.

"Oh, thank fucking God—" Sangyeon pulls you into a heated kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck once more as his hands travel down to the doughy flesh of your ass, groping and kneading it.

Your hands are all over each other as you both struggle to make your way into your bedroom, giggling in between kisses as he nearly trips over your carpet. Sangyeon eagerly plops you down on the edge of your bed, kneeling down to match your eye level as you pull him by his shirt to swipe the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip. He moans into your mouth as he opens up for you, intertwining his tongue with yours as his hands rest on your lap.

Sangyeon slowly spreads your legs apart and inserts himself in between, his hands gripping your inner thighs as his lips start to travel down to your neck. You sigh out dreamily, feeling the warmth of his lips make their mark on you.

You suddenly yelp at a particular spot that Sangyeon nips. He pulls away to check if you're okay. You nod, giving him the signal to continue. Before diving back in, Sangyeon notices the spot he had nipped was already red, indicating a mark had been made prior to his own.

Hyunjae… He can already hear that laugh ringing in his ears, but decides not to let the idea get to him and focus on you right now.

Sangyeon continues to litter your neck with kisses, leaving a trail as he makes his way to kissing your inner thighs. Your breathing starts to shake as his lips inch closer to your sex. Sangyeon wasn't even near your core, and he could already feel the heat radiating from you, making him smirk against your skin before giving a featherlight kiss to the wet patch on your underwear.

"Sangyeon, please…" You whine, desperate to feel his tongue wedged between your folds.

"Shh, it’s okay," he looks up at you as he kisses your clothed mound once more. "Let me take the lead."

His fingers pull your panties to the side, feeling his length throb at the beautiful sight of your slick glistening, enticing him to just dive into you. And he does exactly that as he kisses your folds before lapping his tongue between them, taking his sweet time to memorize what you feel like against his wet muscle.

You let out a loud moan as you lie back to enjoy the feeling of Sangyeon between your legs. He continues on like this for a moment until the tip of his tongue starts to circle around your sensitive bud, making your hands fly to his head to pull his face closer to your core.

His lips suck on your throbbing clit as he inserts two fingers into your entrance, curling them up to hit that spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your hips start to mindlessly move on their own as you grind yourself on Sangyeon's face. You sound incredibly hot; it spurs Sangyeon to lower his sweatpants down to free his aching cock and fist it harshly.

You start to feel your high approaching fast, the knot inside you ready to snap any second now. But the moment the vibrations of Sangyeon's groan ring against your core, you scream in ecstasy. You clench your thighs together, squeezing his head as your essence bursts in Sangyeon's mouth. For a quick moment, he thinks to himself that if he could choose to leave this earth, he would gladly go out by being suffocated between your legs.

He pulls his head away to check on you, your chest rising and falling heavily as you catch your breath. You couldn't believe the sight before you right now: Sangyeon's disheveled hair as he too catches his breath, the shine of your essence all over his mouth and chin, and the warmth of his cheeks flaring.

"T-that was—" You try to express your current state, but Sangyeon interrupts you as he quickly removes his shirt and gets up from his spot, exposing his glorious abs and his incredibly hard cock standing at attention. You were so mesmerized by his body you didn't even see him suddenly hovering over your body and kissing you like a man starved.

"Oh, I'm not finished with you yet, sweetheart—" he mumbles against your lips. He spreads your legs further apart with his knee and lowers his weight on you, the tip of his manhood nudging your sensitive clit in the process.

Sangyeon kisses your chest, busy distracting you with the way his mouth sucks on your exposed nipple. He swiftly grabs your legs to wrap them around his torso. And in one swift moment, his thick, veiny length fills you up entirely. You both moan as he starts to roll his hips into you, pumping himself in and out of your cunt as your walls grip around him tightly.

Your bodies begin to melt into each other the longer Sangyeon fucks into your heat, all the raw emotions that have been brewing between you finally free from their confinement. He buries his head into your neck as his thrusts start to become stuttered, the throb of his length inside you signaling his high approaching. You dig the heels of your feet into his lower back, locking him in place as you also feel yourself reaching for the stars once more.

"Let go, Sangyeon, it's okay." You moan into his ear, and instantly he lets out a guttural moan as he stills his movements. His warm release bursts inside you as your own high finally falls off the edge, your walls gripping his member like a vice as he embraces you tightly in the process.

You allow yourselves to stay like this a little longer, taking the time to process everything that had just happened before Sangyeon pulls out and gets up to grab a warm towel to get you cleaned up. He freshens up a bit in your bathroom before finally joining you under the covers. You lay your head on his chest as he pulls you in for a hug.

You sigh dreamily, looking up at him as he smiles at you. You both slowly kiss once more before finally drifting to sleep, both your hearts and minds finally put at ease.

The next day, you wake up with Sangyeon hugging you close. His lips are pressed on your forehead as you feel the warmth of his breath fanning you. You smile, recalling the events of last night and finally being in Sangyeon's arms again.

You slowly peel his arms off you as you get up to use the restroom and make yourself coffee. As you finish brewing your coffee, the bouquet of flowers Sangyeon had put down on the counter catches your eye. You gently grab the bouquet and find a good vase to transfer the flowers into. A sealed envelope tucked between the flowers falls to your feet.

You pick up the envelope and scan the item in your hand for a quick moment before opening the flap and seeing the card inside. You smile to yourself as soon as you read the note, a bittersweet feeling blooming in your chest as you read:

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be crying anymore, okay? — L.HJ"

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Sleep

AU Reverse Therapy

Summary: Virgil is left alone with Malina at night and decides to take advantage of this opportunity.

Pairing: Chaos!Lamenter/fem!OC/Chaos!Flesh Tearer

Characters: Malina (fem!OC), Luka The Angel (OC Chaos Lamenter), Virgil (OC Chaos Flesh Tearer)

Warnings: yandere, forced stolkhom syndrome, dubcon

Word count: 2160

Author's note: Dilf finally tastes Malina too ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Song: London After Midnight - Your Best Nightmare

Tag List: @druidwolf21, @pluvio-tea, @kit-williams

It had been only a few days since the Feast. Everything had returned to normal. The Red Corsairs were about to return to discipline (like the Chaosites had). Luka, to his dismay, had been officially promoted and was now training with the squad he was supposed to lead. Poor, poor puppy. Virgil didn't feel sorry for him at all. Finally, he could get a break from him for a while. Finally, he was alone.

Well, almost alone. She had always been here.

Malina had had a hard time with the Feast, but she had shown her best side. She had cried a little, but then she had calmed down. She had clung to him like a protector. She had even fed him from her hands. The Flesh Tearer wasn't going to fool himself. He liked it. In some ways, it was even better than the drugs from Baphomet.

But that wasn't enough. He wanted more.

Virgil had no intention of torturing the girl. She had a hard time adjusting to the Astartes. She had to gather strength and rest. Of course, Luka was upset, but he calmed down right away. Of course, his beauty needed to rest, he could wait a little longer. The veteran just grinned. The lamenter would have to wait even longer.

"Night" had already come and it was time for the girl to go to bed. Virgil gently stalled for time, asking her to clean the bathroom and take a shower. Of course, she was tired and just dreamed of falling asleep on a soft bed. The Flesh Tearer did not want her to sleep that day. But he wanted her to be softer, more ordinary. More defenseless. More tender. His complete opposite. But at the same time, the perfect complement.

Malina had just gone to bed, wrapped in a blanket like a caterpillar. She had just closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep. But suddenly the feeling of someone else's body on the bed did not allow the girl to fall into darkness. Instead, she was met by a dark room and Virgil's bright red eyes almost next to her face.

He had been looking at her greedily before. If Malina could deceive herself before, then after the Feast, there was no point. And yet now Virgil's eyes were burning with desire. With anticipation. Suddenly realizing what was about to happen, the girl trembled. The veteran only grinned.

"How you trembled," the man giggled, causing his shark teeth to sparkle. As if he was preparing to bite into her artery. - "Are you scared?"

The man slowly rose from the corner of the bed to completely position himself above her. He did not even have to bend over. The girl's bed, oddly enough, was just right for a space marine. Malina felt her cheeks tan as soon as she realized that Virgil was only wearing a bandage. The veteran tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, looking expectantly at the girl. She had to give an answer. Malina nodded uncertainly. She was scared. Virgil only smiled, leaning towards her face.

“Good.” - the man whispered languidly, before leaving an almost ghostly kiss on her cheek. And then another on her throat. And another on her chest, going lower and lower and even. Very small and short kisses. But even they burned the soft olive skin. Malina shuddered at such moments, trying to behave quietly as a mouse.

Let her scream. Tear her throat and scratch his skin until it bleeds. Let her enrage him. Let rage cloud his eyes and he howls with anger. He will rip her face apart, turn her into a bloody mush. And then howl from what he did. Let her resist, hate him. And let her call her savior angel. Call him.

But she does not do it. She is quiet and vulnerable. Malina is a very good girl. Too good for him. Virgil would even feel sorry for the poor girl that she fell into the clutches of bloodthirsty killers. But she is also too good for the Imperium. And the slaves of the Corpse on the Throne will not be as charmed by her naivety as he is. And now, even more so. They will simply burn her and brand her a heretic. And it does not matter that Malina, like a good girl, prays to the God-Emperor every time before going to bed.

But for not losing faith in such a nightmare, only the highest reward is due, right?

The veteran almost gently lifts the girl's nightgown. Hooking her underwear with his claw, the man slowly pulled the fabric towards himself. The poor girl was shaking like an aspen leaf, and yet she could not tear her eyes away from Virgil's face. His red eyes also followed every facial expression. Even when his black tongue touched the feminine sex.

Malina was dry. It's hard to get aroused when a terrifying looking and characterful space marine is leaning over you. It's even good. Virgil wasn't averse to breaking through someone else's defenses. And his tongue was wet enough to fix the situation. Long enough that he could simultaneously touch her clitoris and push inside, pressing on the right spots. Preparing and stretching her for him.

Virgil almost growled, enjoying her delicious taste between her legs. How the girl breathed intermittently, trying to suppress her moans. He felt her fatigue, the desire to cling to the bed and fall asleep. To let the Flesh Tearer do whatever he wanted with her body. But the growing pleasure and at the same time fear kept Malina from the long-awaited sleep. A bittersweet combination, a great drug for a bastard like Virgil.

Malina tightly closed her eyes, being on the verge of falling apart. The veteran had to grab her trembling hips sharply, leaving bruises on her tender skin. But she didn't make a sound. Only the liquid splashing onto his mouth was proof of her pleasure. In truth, Virgil wouldn't mind licking her pussy clean again, so that it would be harder and harder for Malina to hold back her moans each time. He wasn't at all averse. But the pain in her crotch was already making itself felt.

It's very easy for Virgil to penetrate inside. Her walls squeeze his cock tightly, but he doesn't want to rush. He always took it by force, hard and fast. He liked it. At least he thought so. But now he wants to torture himself. Virgil just wants to prolong this wonderful moment.

Malina's gaze is blurry, as if she is in a fog. Perhaps because despite the invasion of her body, she still fell asleep. Or perhaps it was all about the heavy tears gathering in the corners of her eyes and sliding freely down her cheeks. At least until Virgil wiped them away with his thumbs from the girl's enemy.

"There is no reason to cry, you are doing well." - the man whispers sweetly, but the girl does not trust him. Malina sees that Virgil likes her tears. - "You can sleep if you want. I will not hurt you."

Malina only nodded, pursing her lips, feeling new tears flowing down her cheeks. Partly it hurt, partly it was shame for the pleasure her body was experiencing. Partly she was afraid to look into those cruel red eyes. And at the same time, Malina was grateful to the Flesh Tearer for allowing her to fall into the saving blackness. Although he does this only because he likes it.

The girl laid her head on the pillow, closing her eyes. Trying to get used to the sensations, to the sounds of flesh on flesh. Just like the night of the Feast and yet different. This was her second sex, she could be given a break, she would soon get used to it. The Flesh Tearer seemed to understand this too. Virgil was silent, swaying his hips and periodically leaning uncomfortably towards Malina, kissing her temple. At moments when her walls gripped his member tighter, he cooed over the girl, who was on the edge of reality and sleep.

“Do you like it? Do you want more?” - but she did not answer, tired and exhausted. This only turned the veteran on even more. - “Sleep, darling, sleep.”

And yet Malina could not completely fall asleep, feeling how something was hardening inside her. Filling with heat and twisting before pressing on her insides. The body of an Astartes is much warmer than that of an ordinary human. The same applies not only to his blood, but also to his sperm. The girl realized this back at the Feast, when she screamed in surprise and pain, having scratched Luka's shoulders. But he, without taking offense, only helped her clean up the mess and apologized for a long time.

So now, she opened her eyes in horror when she realized how the veteran was releasing his pleasure. Filled with chemicals and too hot for her body, it immediately brought Malina back to reality. The girl's brown eyes immediately filled with tears, and a long groan came from her throat. Malina grabbed Virgil's shoulders like a drowning man, hoping that he would stop his torture. He stopped. Although not right away.

Virgil leaves the pliable body, pitying the poor thing. She will have to adapt to the Astartes for a long time, but she will cope. She's a good girl. But while the veteran can easily leave her divine sex, getting out of bed was much more difficult.

He just... wants to look at her. To imprint her innocent, sleepy image in his mind. As if he's afraid that if he blinks, she'll be gone. Malina is the best thing he ever had, and he would never have met such a girl in his life if it weren't for Luka. Virgil has grown attached to her. He wants to take care of her. He wants to protect her.

For the first time in hundreds of years, he understands what it means to be an Angel of the Emperor. But as a loyalist, he's never felt this way. But the Flesh Tearers loyal to the Imperium don't love mortals the way he loves Malina. Hell, they don't even seek to protect people, preferring to kill more. Virgil is even worse. But for this girl, he will be an exception.

The veteran slowly leans towards Malina before leaving a long, gentle kiss on her forehead. He doesn't want to tell her everything that's on his mind or in his hardened heart. He doesn't want to. This gesture will be enough. Seeing a small, embarrassed smile on the girl's face, he finally gets up from her bed.

But even after returning to his bed, he still can't close his eyes for a long time. Even if his body feels great, and his irritation has subsided. But Virgil simply cannot stop watching her sleeping appearance. Guarding her like a faithful dog from all the dangers of the world. Except for himself. 

***

Luka pouts like a child, crossing his arms over his chest and stamping his foot. But he won't say a word to the veteran while Malina is in the room. And she's always here. The lamenter wants to drag Virgil outside and complain about having to wait another week before he can take the girl to bed again. But he can't, to Virgil's delight.

"Everything is delicious. Thank you very much, Luka." - Malina thanks the lamenter, gobbling up cheese with both cheeks. Her mood has noticeably improved, but without receiving an answer, the girl shifts uncomfortably. - "Luka?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm glad you like it. I have more cheese if you want." - the blond can't help but smile at the sight of the hamster-like girl. She nods and the cheerful young man carries the plate to the bed while Malina rummages through her personal little library.

"Let me read to you about Saint Celestine then." - Malina happily settles down on the bed, taking a book and a plate of cheese. Luka only sighs resignedly, but nods obediently, enjoying the soft voice.

Virgil only grins at this picture, tossing and turning in his bed. Of all the stories the girl had read, the Lamenter hated the one about the corpse bride on the throne. The veteran was almost sure that Malina had chosen the book on purpose to tease the pup a little. She was very smart. He had realized this especially since last night.

The veteran licked his lips, continuing to look at the young couple, gobbling up cheese and reading the sermons of the animal Ignatius about Celestine. And yet, just recently, he had relaxed so well on this very bed. Luka understood this, which made him fidget even more uncomfortably under the quiet laughter of the flesh tearer. Finally, Virgil closes his eyes, carried away by the memories of a wonderful night.

He had not felt so relaxed for a long time.

[kedsandtubesocks]

12:07 am - Gojo Satoru

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☽ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Happy birthday to our Sagittarius boy, you are so deeply loved Gojo

tags: sweet fluff with a surprise ending - just like how the birthday boy would want it

wc: 1.6k

The weeks leading up to Gojo’s birthday have been a nightmare.

Whenever you casually tried asking your boyfriend what he wanted for a birthday present, his answer was always the same -

“You. You’re all I need.” And he said it with the same toothy genuine grin.

You still wanted to try and get him something though.

However… fate decided she instead wanted to fight you at every step.

The special outfit you ordered with the hope of it arriving in time for his birthday ended up back ordered and wouldn’t be shipped for another week. The cake shop you planned to grab his birthday cake from had an unexpected construction issue. The surprise trip you had been secretly trying so hard to plan grew harder and harder to figure out with Gojo’s constant meddling. Plus, with his hectic unpredictable schedule you wondered if a trip, surprise or not, was even possible.

Discouragement consumed you fast and the bitterness still lingered on your tongue. Even now, as you hung up streamers in your shared apartment, you wondered if this would even be enough. Were you even enough for a man who could have anything in this world?

Climbing down the small stepladder, you glance at the clock.

11:47

Just a few minutes short from the time actually turning into his birthday.

You’re at least thankful this week’s mission would keep him away until the morning. The extra time became a blessing and allowed you to decorate before he came home. You wanted to try and stay awake to greet him. But as more and more yawns over took you, you think maybe you might not be able to.

So you decided for the next best option. You already had most of the table set up for Gojo to see when he walked further into the apartment. Large balloons covered most of the table. Vibrant streamers hung from above. Your card for him sat waiting. And now you’d place out the final piece.

It wouldn’t be the cake you had hoped for, but the assortment of cupcakes you snagged from a bakery nearby were pretty adorable. You now move to set them out on the table.

The keys jingling however suddenly ring into the apartment.

No. He couldn’t be home now. Then the apartment door unlocking ignites panic. You rapidly place the cupcakes down on the table, and scurry to the door.

And there he is. The strongest sorcerer.

Satoru, even still in his work uniform, looks like a quiet dream in the soft light. Even as he unceremoniously drops his travel bag without a care. He shoves his blindfold up and those mythical cerulean eyes of his twinkle.

“Well now, what are you still doing up?” Gojo grins, his voice warm and curiously excited.

“What are you even doing here?! I thought you weren’t supposed to be back till this morning?!” You fire back.

“What? Can I not sneak back early for my birthday?” Satoru smirks while he walks towards you to already lean down to kiss you.

Then, he freezes. His eyes flicker to stare out behind you and you turn around. A balloon softly rolling out gives you away.

“Oh?” His damn amused voice twinkles brighter. “You having a party without me?”

“Yeah. I was waiting for my secret other boyfriend to come over until you showed up.” You playfully tell him.

“I just got home! Why do you wound me so?!” Gojo shrieks in horror. Quickly he draws you into his arms and holds you tight. You can’t help but burst into giggles as he playfully kisses every inch of your face.

You just accept your surprise is slightly ruined. However, in your boyfriend’s arms, defeat doesn’t feel so bad. Once he sets you back on the ground, Gojo follows right behind you giggling like a gleeful kid about to meet Santa.

“Alright,” you sigh. “I wanted to surprise you when you got home and-”

As you walk into the kitchen, instead of seeing the cupcakes on the table, they now sit on the chair and are flipped over in their container.

Your excitement deflates and a wave of sadness swallows you whole. In the frenzy of Gojo coming home, you must have not place the container fully on the table and they fell.

“Wow!” Satoru cries loud and excited. “You set up all of this?! Look at all the balloons?! And the streamers!”

You can’t even look at him, or even acknowledge him. Your focus is only on the ruined sweets you silently approach.

His voice vaguely behind you now sounds distant and concerned.

Tears begin clogging your throat and you furiously, angrily, blink them away. You shouldn’t be this upset. They’re just cupcakes. Gojo could buy a whole bakery if he wanted to. But maybe the exhaustion of the day catching up to you, or the frustration leading up to this, all of it has you crying.

Gojo cries out your name worried, panicked.

“Is this about the cupcakes?” He asks and his voice floats around you like a comforting balm.

“Because they’re not that messed up! Actually, they still look pretty intact if you ask me-”

“No.” You sigh through the hot tears. “It isn’t just about this.”

You explain everything. Before you can even get to how upset you were about the cupcakes falling, Satoru’s hands suddenly cradle your face. Swiftly he’s titling your head up and capturing your lips with his.

He kisses you fierce, dizzying, as if he’s trying to steal your breath away while also ground you completely to him.

“You damn adorable and gorgeous dummy.” Satoru whispers fiercely against your lips. “How many times did I tell you? You’re all I need.”

It gets harder fighting back the tears for another reason, one that’s sweeter than any confectionery.

You also realize you shouldn’t have doubted Satoru’s sugar skills because, like he prophesied, the cupcakes are actually pretty salvageable. And after pouting with the worst puppy dog eyes, Satoru manages to get you to at least split one of the cupcakes.

You glance at the clock.

It’s officially his birthday.

Your heart grows against its cage thinking of how grateful you feel getting to celebrate this incredible man. Even now as he tries to sneak another cupcake like you won’t see him.

Playfully you swipe your finger through the messy icing. You childishly place a dot of it on his cheek. Satoru’s sky blue eyes go wide a bit confused and stunned at the action while he turns to you.

“Happy Birthday Satoru.” You warmly tell him.

His handsome face melts, like he’s staring at the sun first breaking over the horizon and your heart trips over itself.

“You gonna lick this off me now?” He tilts his cheek and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. You laugh, shaking your head.

Suddenly an entire messy half cupcake smashes into your face. It mainly catches the side of your lips and more of your cheek. But icing is all over you now.

“What was that for?!” You screech.

“You started it first! You know I had to finish it.” He grins triumphant and it makes you want to pummel him, birthday boy or not.

“I’ll clean you up if you want?” He purrs suggestively.

“No! And no more cupcakes for the rest of the night!” You swat at the container as you close it. Satoru effortlessly and swiftly however sweeps you in his embrace.

He also flattens his frosting covered cheek against yours and rubs them together making you shriek at his ridiculous actions.

“Aw! Come on baby! It’s my birthday! You can’t do this to me!” Gojo wails.

“I’m tempted to lock myself in the guest bedroom for the rest of the night now.” You snap back.

“Oh like that would stop me.” Gojo snorts almost insulated and you know it’s true.

While still in his arms, Satoru suddenly kisses your cheek with his lips pressing against the icing. The sensation is squishy, strange but makes your lips twitch giddy.

“You’re my extra sweet treat.” He whispers grinning.

“You’re ridiculous.” You scoff without any malice.

Gojo simply beams bigger as he dives in to kiss your cheek again. He even playfully bites at your skin causing you to let out surprise squeak.

Unfortunately, another surprise yawn also escapes you.

“Alright, let’s put this party on hold till later.” Gojo says.

The cupcakes are put away. He drags you into the bathroom to help clean up the icing properly. As the night begins to unwind, you glance over at your boyfriend.

He really does seem carved out of a dream, so handsome it’s unreal. Yet a bright color of frosting faintly lingers against his cheek. Of course he didn’t wipe it off fully. So wetting a small hand towel you lean up to clean the last bit of frosting painting his cheek.

Gojo’s eyes flicker to you and his gaze stays intently glued on you.

“Next year I'll just have us plan a trip for your birthday.” You sigh thinking of how a trip to the hot springs sounds so nice now.

“Next yeah, huh?” His voice is colored playful, a shade just below a tickle-me-pink color.

“Yes, next year.” You playfully elbow him. “Unless you already have plans without me?”

He snorts. “No…I want as many birthdays as I can get with you.”

His words cause your heart to sprout wings and flutter wildly in your chest.

“Even if I decide to stick around and let you annoy me forever?” You offer light, delicate, and cautious.

Satoru chuckles softly. “Funny enough, I’m kind of hoping for that.”

His words, so simple and soft, wrap around you. Suddenly his hand again cradles your face. His thumb strokes your cheek tender and delicate. Your eyes can’t help but look up to him. In the warm bathroom light Satoru’s sky eyes shimmer like the ocean at dawn, deeply reflective, yet so bright.

He says your name and it’s caressed with such tenderness you feel it sinking into your bones.

“I realize what I want for my birthday today.” Gojo mutters. His eyes flicker to your lips.

“Oh?” You wait for his answer to be something crude.

But it isn’t.

“Yeah…I wanna marry you.”

[kydrogendragon]

Last Line Tag Game

Tagged by @the-apocrypha ❤️

I think some people already saw this in the Sadman server but I'm doing some more work with it so have a treat!

"Fuck," Hob hisses as he watches blood pool from the cut on his palm. "Well, so much for showing off those knife skills of mine." He sets down the half-sliced apple onto the ground beside him, lifting his hand to his lips when he sees a set of dark eyes on him. Hob turns towards the tank, watching as the creature's eyes follow the trail of crimson down his skin.

He lifts his hand, holding it closer towards the wall of glass, moving his palm to either side, smiling as the creature's mouth parts open, tongue flicking out into the water.

"Is this what you want?" he asks, rising to his feet. The creature moves with him, his large tail fails fanning out behind him like ropes in the water. "Is that why you haven't been eating? You need it fresh? Need the blood?"

Dark eyes flick up to Hob's own, holding his gaze. His breath hitches in his throat as pinpricks of white appear in the creature's eyes. Hob finds himself leaning forward, close to the glass to see. Never before has he seen that. The creature's eyes have always been black voids, but the longer he stares, the more he sees. It's like the night sky on the outskirts of a city—seemingly empty—but slowly fills with more distant stars the longer you look.

He tilts his hand out, offering, wanting to feed the creature that looks half-starved and growing thinner. When did he get above the creature? When did he lift the lid of the tank? Confusion sets in. Hob blinks, ready to step back when a clammy, wet webbed hand curls around his wrist.

He's pulled into the water before he can even think.

It's dark as inky black fins surround him, all Hob can see in the cold salt water is black scales, pale skin, and dark eyes pinning him in place. The hand wrapped around his pulls the wound to the creature's mouth. A pink tongue darts forward and laps at the cut. It stings, but no less than the salt water on it. Hob supposes he should be panicking, worrying about being eated by this thing or, at least, drowning here in this tank of water.

He watches the creature press his lips against his skin. He can feel the pressure as he sucks at the wound, drawing as much blood forward as he can. And then there's a stabbing pain as teeth sink into his skin.

Hob gasps, releasing a burst of air from his lips into the water as the creature gnaws at the flesh of his palm. A chunk is torn off. Hob watches part of him float briefly in the water between his hand and the creature's mouth before it's swallowed down. Panic sinks back in as his lungs strain for air and the water around them turns red with blood. He trashes his legs, fighting against the creature's hold. Dark eyes find his again. They stare at him for a moment before he's released.

Hob kicks away, up to the surface, and gasps as his head breaches the opening of the tank. His hand throbs. He can feel his pulse bleeding out into the water. He only takes a moment before he’s clambering out of the tank, desprate to get out, to get away. Hob practically falls down the steps that lead up to the tank’s entrance and collapses onto the linolium floors, body dripping both blood and water. His lungs take deep, gasping breathes in, his chest heaving as he stares up at the creature. His large fins no longer hide his form but fan out from him as he stares him down, head tilted like a curious dog.

No pressure tags: @samsalami66 @im-not-corrupted and @valiantstarlights

[bilbosmom-belladonna]

Wiggly Worm Wednesday 🧠🪱

Thank you for the tag, @endlessmusings1801! I am SO behind on tag games but this one comes with a deadline so I'm gonna roll with it.

Fall is coming to the northern hemisphere, and with it the inevitable arrival of All Things Halloween, which has got me thinking: if there was any kind of professional haunted house/forest/hayride/corn maze/whatever in Hawkins, Indiana, YOU KNOW Eddie Munson was working there every October.

I mean, it combines his three favorite things: theatrical performances, spooky shit, and terrifying normal people! You cannot tell me Eddie wasn't working late every night, jump-scaring assholes from high school or cackling maniacally at the suburban moms that sneer at him in the grocery store.

There's a LOT of fun ways this could go in my mind, both in the 80s and in a modern AU. I am stirring it around in my head like a big gooey cauldron of possibility.

With that in mind, here's a quick little modern AU meet-ugly, based off of a real interaction I saw at a haunted forest many years ago.

Steve scoffed, but didn't let go of his hand. "No, he didn't. You were the one who screamed!" They could see the lights of the parking lot up ahead of them, the wide mulched path leading them out of the trees and away from the haunted forest.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

"Okay but the mad scientist totally scared the shit out of you," Tommy said, laughing meanly.

"It was a manly scream," Tommy insisted, pouting. "Like, to let him know I meant business."

Steve laughed and rolled his eyes. He hadn't thought much of Tommy's choice for their first date, but he had had more fun than he thought. He had promised himself there would only be one date—Tommy had whined at him long enough to get that—but maybe he could be convinced to try another one. It hadn't been that bad, especially because they had spent most of it screaming and not actually talking. Not even in Steve's top five worst dates.

...maybe the top twenty though.

Tommy started describing the horrors of the werewolf den in detail, as if Steve hadn't been there too, when suddenly from behind them there came the rumbling sound of a chainsaw.

Steve looked over his shoulder and saw a man in a hockey mask barreling down on them, running full-speed with a chainsaw held in front of him, revving it menacingly. On instinct he started running, pelting along the path toward the parking lot.

Tommy was right beside him running until Steve tripped and went down, his ankle twisting painfully under him. Tommy instantly dropped his hand and kept running.

"Tommy!" Steve cried, but Tommy was already too far ahead, racing full-speed for the safety of the cars.

Steve grimaced and tried to stand, pushing up onto his knees but faltering when he tried to put weight on his ankle. Behind him, he heard the chainsaw revving. He turned to see the man in the hockey mask stalking toward him.

It was an actor, of course—Steve felt stupid for not realizing it, a last-minute scare when they thought they were finally safe. He looked back down and tried to get up again, but fell back with a cry when his ankle couldn't take it.

"Holy shit, dude," came a muffled voice. Steve looked up to see the man in the hockey mask—the actor, he supposed—standing above him, hand outstretched.

"You okay?" the man asked.

Steve made a face and grabbed his hand to pull himself up, managing to stand awkwardly on one foot and lean on the man's arm.

"Think I twisted it," he gritted out.

"Shit," Hockey Mask said. He clipped his chainsaw—his fake chainsaw—to his belt and pulled the mask up, revealing messy curls and big brown eyes. "You, uh, you want me to find your date?"

"Fuck him," Steve said immediately. "I'll call a rideshare."

Tommy had just landed himself in the number one spot of Steve's "worst dates" list.

"Yeah, what an asshole," Hockey Mask agreed. He wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders. "Come on, I'll walk you over to where they pick up."

"Thanks," Steve said gratefully, leaning into his warm side and trying not to wince as he hobbled.

"I'm Eddie," Hockey Mask said with a smile as he walked slowly along. "Sorry about your ankle."

Steve huffed a laugh. "I'm Steve," he replied, "sorry for making you, uh, break character or whatever."

Eddie smiled, his bright eyes reflecting the flickering torches that lined the path. "Nah, don't worry about it. I got plenty of good scares in tonight. Though your boyfriend might take the cake."

"Not my boyfriend," Steve said emphatically. "And he's not even getting a second date."

They reached the edge of the parking lot, where a couple of benches were set up for people waiting for rides. Steve gratefully collapsed onto one. He gingerly tried putting some weight on his ankle and found it a little more stable. Eddie hovered awkwardly over him.

"Thanks," Steve said with a grateful smile. "I'll be okay here, don't want you to get in trouble for slacking off," he added reluctantly. Eddie, he thought, had a really nice smile.

"Look, um," Eddie stammered. "I—uh, I get off in about twenty minutes anyway. If you want I could, um. I could drive you home? Make sure you get there safe?" He twisted his hands in front of him, looking awkward and hopeful despite the fake blood spattered all over his shirt.

Cute, Steve thought.

"Hmmm, I dunno," Steve said slowly. "Wouldn't want to let an actual serial killer drive me home to my apartment." He smirked up at Eddie.

"The mask and the chainsaw are company property," Eddie said quickly. He spread his hands wide. "It would just be little ol' me."

"Okay, well, as long as you're not gonna murder me, I guess it's okay," Steve grinned. "I'll just wait here then."

Eddie's eyes went wide, then he grinned so far his cheeks stretched all the way out. "Okay!" he agreed. He dropped his hockey mask back over his face and picked up his chainsaw, revving it again. "Back to the grind," he growled from behind the mask. Then he was stalking back across the parking lot, terrorizing a group of girls who were huddled by the apple cider stand.

Steve shook his head and carefully lifted his leg up onto the bench. Maybe this first date was salvageable after all.

👑🎸🎃

I will tag @itcanbepalped @soaringornithopter @mojowitchcraft

Looking forward to whatever you've got cooking!

[polkadot358]

I made some sprites and boss battle animations heavily based on the content made for the john loves you au by @zzoupz and @salmonandsoup . Big props to them for creating and expanding this au along with every other contributor who helped get my creative juices flowing! 

I have tagged it but just in case !!FLASHING LIGHTS!! for the gif below

Details, ideas and ramblings on the sprites are below the read more!(I am warning you that it is long and that this is my first time posting)

All sprites are facing to the right and are supposed to be the walking downwards sprites.

John: 

For John and Gary I just swapped around their bodies and kept their arms so that their silhouettes would be the same (or at least similar) to the ones in the Faith game. This made them a lot easier to design alongside the fact Zoup gave them distinguishable features (thank you!). The first sprite is John cloaked, second is uncloaked and third is his ‘action move’ like the one in game when he holds up his cross. 

For his phase 1 transformation I like to think this is when Gary and Amy are properly kicking his ass and Buer does not like that so John starts to fervently pray to his “angels” to save him. They do but start to transform John as they feed off his fear of failing his “God” and of being killed by Gary and Amy. As the protagonists deal with the “angels” John escapes (to mirror canon!Gary’s fight and highlight John’s cowardice) and prays in his private sanctuary where he can directly speak to “God”. 

Amy and Gary catch up, leading to John’s phase 2 transformation where Buer has had enough and directly possesses John at the peak of his terror, fully transforming him. You may notice in this transformation that John’s blood forms a cross, I did this because of  ~symbolism~. The flashing yellow references when canon!John first received the golden cross from Father Allred in the Martin house when his faith was strongest. For swap!John he is literally being given the cross directly into his chest and his faith is also at its strongest, although it’s out of pure blind faith to his “God” from fear rather than it being a conscious decision. It’s kinda mocking the canon flashing but its use still means “John” is becoming stronger. Also, the reason the antlers move is cuz I read an interview with Airdorf where he said he liked to keep his demons abstract to allow the human mind to make it horrifying. I know he was referring to the shapes of the demons but I took it and made the antlers move to allow people to think “oh, are those antlers or bloody hands?” Clever, maybe, I dunno.

Gary:

I’ll repeat what I said above but I just swapped John and Gary’s bodies and kept the arms the same. I made Gary look like he was wearing a cassock, gave him his hat and cane and voila, it’s his first sprite. His second sprite is his ‘action move’ where he whips out his bible and leans on his cane. salmonandsoup said how the AU would be a two player game, I could see this being done by giving Gary and Amy individual strengths and weaknesses. Gary would be a slow mover but would be the only one able to fully kill demons with his biblical knowledge. Amy would be speedy and could hold items but would only be able to stun or ward away demons.

Amy:

Humans in the Faith game all have that stick figure look outside of Garcia and Allred who get to be a bit knobbly. This is why Amy has a pretty basic look but I gave her some knobbly-ness in her arms as reference to her canon design and attempted to give her some shoulder length hair, this is her first sprite. Her second and third sprites give light to the idea I talked about in Gary’s section where she would be the item keeper. These aren’t her ‘action moves’ though cuz I imagine her swinging the crowbar around and maybe lifting the lamp higher.

Lisa:

The first sprite is based off of canon!Amy and canon!Lisa designs. I gave her that hanging hair that canon!Amy has and used canon!Lisa’s skinny and less connected arms to inform the rest of her limbs to make her more demonic looking. For the second sprite I made it closer to Zoup’s design for Lisa, giving her more wild hair and clawed hands.

Miriam: Another original look, I wasn’t too sure if she was a nun in this AU but gave her the mask that salmonandsoup mentioned based off of her face in her canon design. I decided to give her a nice grandmotherly silhouette, making her shorter than her canon sprite, giving her a bun and a nice dress to tie it together. Overall, just a sweet old lady with good posture. 

Garcia:

The least inspired of the bunch. I just took the hooded design of canon!Gary and slapped Garcia’s arms on there. I gave him his canon colouring even though the cloak should be blue because his grey head did not mix well with the blue clothing in his second sprite. Sorry, Garcia, at least he looks kinda like the grim reaper.

Last thing, I promise! I thought about the themes that the swap AU game could explore that would contrast those made in the OG Faith game. The AU game could explore how limiting faith that is too extreme can be or how faith can become twisted compared to the originals message that through strong and pure faith anything can be overcome. These are ideas that salmonandsoup and vendettapandav have talked about I just think they deserve to be key themes.

[countrymusiclover]

One - The Man Who Can Control Metal

Battle of the Mind and Heart

Part 2

Tags - just send me an ask to be added @aintinacage

I am not sure how to really ever start the first chapter of my books. I hope I can figure out the dynamic. I want these two to go in at some point. If you have any tips on how that should go, dm me 👍

Germany, Poland 1944

Sliding on my black combat boots I pushed my hair out of my face. Standing up front the desk chair I was sitting in I could hear my father's footsteps coming closer down the hallway. I tied my hair up in a ponytail hearing the office door finally open revealing my father. He had dark brown hair and bright green eyes. Yet I resemble my mother overall with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. “Addison, you're coming to work with me today.”

“Alright whatever for?” I asked knowing that he normally kept me out of his work. Always saying it would be far too much for me to handle.

He fixed the top part of his jacket, sending me a half smirking yet proud smile. “There's someone very interested I'd like you to meet.” He headed out the door immediately and I was quick to follow his heels, he never cared for me if I was dragging along behind him.

We moved up and down some stairs then through a couple of different rooms until we entered an office and he shut the door behind me. He sat down in the chair behind the desk and I just decided to lean against the side before the door opened once more. Two soldiers enter, leading a young boy that looks to be my age of fourteen years old. “What is going on, father?”

“This boy was supposed to be going to the camps until he had a disagreement with some of the men. He bent a metal fence almost in half. He's not ordinary, my dear daughter.” My father almost sounded proud of such a feet.

Shifting my gaze to the young boy he avoided my gaze and watched the floor. “What's your name?”

“Erik…Erik Lehnsherr.” He paused in his answer. “I want to see my mother.”

Glancing over my shoulder I shiver asking the question. “Where's his mother?”

“That needn't be your concern, daughter. She is where she is supposed to be and he will see her again once he shows me what he can do.” My father picked up a bell out of the desk and the guards opened the door revealing a woman who Erik ran to, meaning it must be his mother. My father took out a handgun explaining. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to count to three…and you’re going to move the coin. You don’t move the coin, I pull the trigger.”

“Dad, no. You can’t!” I attempted to grab the gun from him but he had the two guards by the door grab me and pin me down on my knees and just watch. “One….two….three.”

Erik couldn’t move the coin and I cried out watching his mother get shot. Yet the young boy didn’t dare turn around before he bent the bell and the metal cabinet. Throwing my elbow backwards into one of the guards they tried to grab me but at the same time he managed to crush the metal helmets on their heads until they died beside his mother. “Erik…” I breathe put covering my face until all the metal lab objects stopped getting thrown around above my head.

Uncovering my eyes I gasped eyeing his mother's dead body on the floor. He started crying in anger with my father apalding him. “Outstanding, Erik. So we unlock your gift with anger.” He placed the coin in his hand and headed for the door.

“How could you do that to him!” Rushing forward I grabbed my father's arm and he winced and I saw my hand turn red. Quickly drawing my hand backwards I saw it disappear before he could see I had some power of my own. As far as he knew I was just human like my mother.

My father Sebastian turned around to face me. “He's not like everyone else and I wish to see what he can truly do.” He left the office without saying another word to me or to the boy behind me.

“Erik, I….I'm sorry.” I noticed that he hasn't moved from where he stood and I did consider touching his shoulder. Yet decided no seeing the state he was in now.

He slowly glanced at me sniffing through tears. “You’re a monster, Addison!” I didn’t like the way he said my name for the first time which such anger and hate. Wrapping my arms around myself I left the room figuring it would be hard to gain any trust with him now.

Years later

Things haven't gotten any better between Erik and I. My father has kept me out of the supposed research he calls it. Yet I found out the truth a little while ago…about two years after we met. It was the middle of the night as I made my way down to the sort of bunker room they were keeping Erik in. It had no metal seeing as he could escape. Shutting the door behind me he sat up slightly in the bed but scoffed the second he saw it was me. “What are you doing here!”

“I brought you some extra food from my dinner if you want it.” Reaching inside my jacket I tossed him a zip lock bag that had some biscuits and a half slice of meat seeing that they didn't feed him well.

He caught the bag looking me in the eye briefly. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Because I'm not like my father, Erik.” I responded with my hands inside my pockets.

The young mutant boy sat in silence just eating the food that I had given him. Moving downward I sat across from him with my hands laying in my lap. I wasn’t sure what to say to him. I knew that he didn’t trust me. “What is the real reason you’re talking to me?”

“Because I heard that they're shutting down everything. The camps, the experiments, everything. My father is packing to get out of here and not get executed. But I thought you should know that I’m here to help you get out of here.” Glancing over my shoulder I watched the door behind us counting down the minutes, figuring if my father found out where I was I would never see Erik again.

Erik stared at me finishing his food before he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. I noticed the numbers that had been marked onto his left forearm and it made me feel guilty that he was suffering. “You’re really willing to help me, I still don’t understand why.”

“Come with me and you’ll see that I’m someone you can trust.” Raising myself to my feet offering him my hand.

He hesitantly placed his hand in mine asking one more question before I helped him sneak out before we could get caught. “What am I supposed to call you, Shaw girl?”

“Addison is too formal. Call me Addi.”

He got to his feet heading for the door twisting the doorknob and we both saw some flashing lights going down the hallway. He quickly turned his attention to me. “So what exactly is the plan now?”

“How about this? Since I am helping you get out of here then you agree to never hurt or try to kill me.” I suggested shrugging my shoulders.

Erik actually agreed to my shock and awe. “Fine, Shaw girl. But you'll help me find the ones who hurt me.” I squeezed his hand that was still looped with his saying that I agreed in silence before began running and haven't stopped since then.

Shutting the hotel room door behind me with my foot I didn’t hear the tv or anything on in which could only mean that Erik had either left or was just plotting in silence. Sliding my boots off of my feet at the door I paused in the doorway. “How long have you been staring at that wall?”

“That’s not your concern.” He grumbled moving the coin from my father between his fingers, never looking away from the board with pinned maps and pictures leading up to my father’s picture.

Crossing my arms over my chest I huffed. “Maybe it is my business considering the only time you leave is to kill some other Nazi members. So forgive me for being concerned.”

“I didn’t ask you to free me that night, Addison.” He scoffed using my full name knowing I didn’t care for it.

Waving my index finger at him I stepped away from the wall and to the foot of the bed. “I told you to not call me that, Lehnsherr!”

“Addison.” He just kept going until I crawled up onto the bed putting my hands on either side of his head glaring at the man in front of me.

The entire time he just kept moving the coin until I managed to snatch it from him. My freehand landed down on his thigh and he winced where I realized what I was doing and drew my hand back. “Sorry that I might actually care about you after what happened to your family. If you’re gonna hate me for the rest of our lives I guess I’ll just go!”

“Addison….” Erik called for me but I was already around the corner to my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. He noticed the coin had been dropped on the floor and so he slowly used his power, levitating it once more and then launching it right to my father’s forehead.

Once the door was shut I flopped down on my bed screaming into my pillow. A few minutes after that I heard the desk lamp move and a few markers and some of my shoes go flying around…everything had some tiny bit of metal inside them. “Urgh! Why did I have to touch him.” I scolded myself under my breath in frustration.

Sitting upright on the foot of the bed I put my face in my hands. “At some point he'll figure it out.” Raising my right hand I made the pen start to levitate in the air since I still had Erik's power running from my veins for a short time. Laying my head back on the pillow I just stared at the ceiling.

My father couldn't know the truth that I had my own mutation. Because if he knew he would have done everything that he did to Erik on his own daughter. So if them other mutant I was living with needed to hate me then I'd accept it. Since I didn't feel like I could be myself…my true self and that maybe I was broken since I could only take power from others and I didn't have my own abilities.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

The metal controlling mutant sat in silence and finally moved his gaze to my locked door. He felt slightly guilty and confused for treating you badly over the years but he couldn’t see past what he knew. That your father was the man who ruined his life…even though you decided to help him he wouldn’t let his heart change the mission he had inside his head.