#the room in the second to last gif is my favorite it has such an interesting feel to it but it was difficult to capture that

[dixonsdarkelf]

You're An Amateur (but Baby, I'm a Pro): Daryl Dixon & Fem!Reader

Summary: During a run with Daryl, you find yourself a little sexy surprise and catch your new boyfriend with a look in his eye you’d never seen before. When leaving the department store, the last thing he said was you’d talk when you got home. Well now you were home, and it was time to have that talk…a talk that escalates into an experience you’d never forget.

Genre: Fluff & smut, smut with feelings

Era: Alexandria, pre-Saviors

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings: Smut, heavy on the MDNI, we got virgin!reader and a flustered Daryl in this one, Reader is in her late 20s/early 30s, virginity loss, oral (both f & m receiving), Daryl talks Reader through giving a blowjob, Reader has hair long enough to be held in a ponytail, next part will contain more smut, I'm incapable of writing smut without a lot of feelings, mentions of blood (in reference to blushing, i.e. blood rushing to your cheeks), pet names (angel mostly)

A/N: Hi so I’m super fucking anxious to post this. This is technically part two to this drabble I wrote back in December. Yes I know it was a Christmas drabble and it took me like almost three months to write part 2 but ssh we're not gonna talk about that. This is also @dixons-sunshine’s very belated Christmas gift, and thank you to her for being my second set of eyes on it and convincing me to post it 🖤 This is only my second attempt at smut and my first x Reader smut, so please be gentle because I’m a sensitive bean. The title is from the song "Amateur" by Scene Queen (headphone warning should you choose to listen to it, which I highly recommend because she's one of my favorite artists).

The familiar scent of your home greeted you, encapsulating you in its warmth as you stepped inside. After a successful department store run with your new boyfriend for winter clothes, you were grateful to be back in the warm & cozy comfort of your home. You loved going on runs with Daryl, but as the cold that had only lingered at first made itself permanent, you were a little more appreciative of the warmth within the walls as you returned home.

“We did good today,” you mused, setting the bags you’d been carrying on your arms at your feet, “got really lucky.” You pushed the bags along the wall next to the door to clear the walkway. Your eyes fell to your backpack, a smirk forming on your lips as you envisioned the Santa babydoll lingerie tucked away inside.

Yes, you’d certainly gotten lucky. In more ways than one.

“Mhm,” Daryl mumbled, following close behind and letting the heavy door swing shut behind him.

Taking your coat and placing it on the hook, you watched the archer stride into the kitchen, setting a couple more bags on the counter. You admired his form, watching him pull some articles of clothing from a bag and started sorting them into piles. Whether they were divided by types of clothing, men’s and women’s, or some other method, you couldn’t tell.

You took some time to observe him, trying to calm your mind as it wandered in all sorts of directions. The tension between you was thick, the unspoken words you knew were coming hanging heavy in the air. There were things to discuss, things Daryl had alluded to back at the department store. Really, one thing—and it was on both of your minds.

This was it. You were home, and it was time to have a chat.

“So…you wanted to talk?” Walking to the living room, you rested back against the couch. Casually throwing your bag at your feet, you bit you bottom lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

After a moment, he looked up from the shirt in his hands, setting it down haphazardly on top of one of the piles. “Hmm?”

“Back at the department store,” you reiterated, keeping your gaze on him as you leaned back further to get comfortable, “you said you wanted to talk.”

There were a few beats of silence, like he was thinking back to the encounter you were referencing, before he spoke again. “Right. Did say that, didn’t I?”

You answered with a nod, your hands interlaced in your lap, twirling your thumbs together to calm you ever-growing anxiety. A few beats of silence passed before he finally joined you in the living room. He sat at the opposite end of the couch, his leg almost immediately beginning to bounce. Like he was skittish. Like he was uncomfortable.

“So what did you want to talk about?” you inquired. You knew damn well what he wanted to talk about, but you left the floor open to him, hoping he’d steer the conversation in the direction you knew it was going.

Rather than responding with words, he nodded toward your backpack, clearly flustered. You nodded in understanding, wanting to approach the subject gently and not make him more uncomfortable than he already was. “You wanted to talk about the lingerie I found, right?” you inquired, tapping your bag with your foot.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, his eyes darting around the room, “more so the…other stuff ya mentioned.”

“About how I’ve been thinking about taking things further?” you teased, hoping maybe a little humor would lighten the mood. Despite the confidence in your flirtatious tone, your cheeks turned a baby pink. You trailed your fingers from his shoulder down his arm, your touch a whisper, barely there. “Having a little fun between the sheets with you?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just watched your hand travel down his arm. You felt goosebumps begin to form the lower you got, stopping at his forearm and drawing tiny circles on the inside above his wrist, all while keeping your touch light as a feather.

When he didn’t reply, you continued. “We’re adults, Daryl. Adults in a relationship, nonetheless.” You tilted your head to look at him, hoping it would encourage him to reciprocate the eye contact. “You can say the word ‘sex’. And we can talk about it.”

He responded with a flustered grumble, his gaze periodically switching between his feet and some random object in the kitchen. An exasperated sigh slipped from between your lips as you brushed fallen hair from your face.

“Daryl, I get that you’re nervous, but just talk to me. Please?” you asked. It came out more as a whine, like you were practically begging him to say something, anything. “Like I said before, I’ve been thinking about it. And I know you have to.”

“How d’ya know?” he wondered, finally ripping his gaze from whatever he’d been staring at to meet yours. His tone was curious, but something in it told you that he already knew the answer.

“Well for one, there was the way you were looking at me in the department store,” you recollected, your heart fluttering as you thought back to that moment. The way his eyes traveled over your body slowly, carefully, lingering over your curves a moment longer than the rest. The glint in his eye as he watched you fiddle with the soft fabric of the bodice…

You blinked rapidly a few times, shaking yourself from your daydream. “Second, I’ve noticed some…changes in you.”

He subtly bit his lip, his next question hesitant, like he was afraid of your answer. “What kinda changes?”

“I think you know what I mean,” you replied. Your fingers continued drawing those little patterns on the inside of his wrist, and you bit your tongue to keep yourself from giggling. “You’ve gotten much more confident with your hand placement…and I’ve been waking up with your morning wood pressed into my backside more and more in the last week.”

That sweet heat returned to his cheeks, pulling that sly giggle from you that you were fighting so desperately to push down. “There’s no need to be ashamed, Dar,” you assured, giving his wrist a tender squeeze, “it’s…hot.”

“Hot?” he asked, his tone indicating that he didn’t believe you.

“Yeah. You’re getting all worked up just by looking at me and letting your mind wander. That’s hot,” you repeated.

His cheeks flushed, the pinky-red shade steadily creeping down his neck. “Glad ya think so.”

“So….does that mean you’d like to…do something about it? The obvious tension, I mean,” you inquired.

He grumbled again, but less flustered this time, like he was starting to relax. “If you do…” he paused briefly, as if he was collecting his thoughts, “then yeah. Sure do.”

You were practically beaming, a warm feeling spreading through your chest at his admission. You tapped your foot, fighting to restrain the urge to giggle and kick your feet. But before anything was to happen, there was an important piece of information you needed to share.

“Daryl…there’s something you should know before we…” your voice trailed off, your words getting lost in the thick silence that hung in the air between you. You dropped your gaze to the floor, swallowing hard in some pathetic attempt to push your nerves down. “I…I haven’t…umm…”

Your words dwindled away, but that didn’t matter. He knew exactly what you were hinting at.

He finished your sentence for you. “Ain’t done nothin’ like this ‘fore?”

All you could do was nod sheepishly. Hearing him say the words out loud somehow felt like a gut punch. Made it real, made it something you couldn’t hide from him anymore. Not that you intended to hide it from him, but if you said you weren’t worried about him finding out, you’d be lying, and you were no liar.

For what felt like hours, the two of you sat there, the only sounds being your breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall. After a minute or so, he finally spoke up.

“No shame in that.” The statement was meant to be reassuring, but it did little to comfort you.

“Then why are you being so quiet?”

He shrugged, unconsciously drumming his fingers his leg. “‘M’surprised someone like yourself hasn’t experienced that.”

The butterflies in your stomach were working overtime, and your mind was heading full-speed in all the worst directions. “What do you mean?”

He turned his body toward you slightly as he spoke, resting an arm across the back of the couch, fingertips barely grazing your shoulder. “Someone so…beautiful, kind…someone people like so much.”

You didn’t fight back the grin this time, letting it stretch from ear-to-ear, internally laughing at yourself for worrying he was going to say something much worse. You should’ve known better. “Guess I just…never met someone I was interested in enough. That I was attracted to enough.”

“And now ya have…and you’re sayin’ that person’s me?” he asked, his words coated with a hefty layer of skepticism.

“Yeah.” You paused briefly, only long enough to lift your eyes to look at him. “I am.”

He stifled a chuckle, his smile widening, and he even looked a little proud. “Guess I’m honored.”

Your giggle permeated the awkward silence. “You should be.” Though his sentiment offered you some reassurance, there was still one question plaguing your mind. “It’s not like….off-putting?”

“Ain’t sure why it’d be off-puttin’.”

“I don’t know, just…it’s been off-putting to people before. Because I “wouldn’t know what I’m doing”,” you clarified, using air quotes at the end of your sentence.

“Like I said, no shame in that. First time for everythin, right?” His fingers that had been only previously grazing your shoulder traveled closer, lazily caressing the crook of your neck.

“I guess that’s true.” Adjusting your foot, you accidentally knocked your bag over. During the whole conversation, you’d forgotten it was there, but you never stopped thinking about what sexy little surprise was tucked away inside. “Should I go put it on?”

“Do you wanna go put it on?” he asked.

“Yes,” you affirmed, “do you want to see me in it?”

The half-mumbled “mhm” he responded with left you uncertain. You hadn’t been official with Daryl for more than a few weeks, but you’d know him for much longer, long enough to be able to tell when something was bothering him that he wouldn’t confess. “If you’re uncomfortable, I don’t have to.”

“S’not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Just don’t want ya to feel like ya gotta.”

You sighed and shifted closer to him on the couch, fully closing the space between you and resting your hand on his leg. “Look, I may be nervous, but I want this, Dar. I want you.” You kissed his cheek, his tanned complexion growing hot under your touch. “I’ll be right back.”

You took your backpack and swung it over your shoulder, giving him a playful wink before making your way upstairs to your shared bedroom. Your heart was pounding in your chest, rattling your ribcage. The butterflies in your stomach were activated by both excitement and anxiety.

You laid the lingerie out on the bed, flattening it smooth and taking a moment to admire it. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten. You’d been itching to talk sex with Daryl, to take thing further with him physically, for some time now. But you needed that last little confidence boost to push you to do it, and it seems today, you’d gotten that push. It had to be a sign.

Your shirt came off first, followed by your bra. You slipped the babydoll over your chest, hooking the back and adjusting yourself in the cups. The flyaway bodice swayed around your hips before stilling, the fluffy trim at the bottom tickling your soft skin. Sliding off your jeans, you kicked them into the corner of the room near the beat-up plastic laundry basket, lastly removing your panties and tossing those in as well. You took the satin red thong and slipped it on, adjusting it to be more comfortable—as comfortable as a G-string could be, at least.

You admired yourself in the mirror, doing a few twirls, watching the satin catch the light. You had wanted this. God, you had wanted this for so long. Wanted him for so long. All that aside, you would’ve been lying to yourself if you had said you weren’t at least a little bit nervous.

“You can do this, Y/N,” you whispered, taking a deep breath and watching your chest rise and fall in your reflection, “it’s Daryl. You’re gonna be just fine.”

You stepped slowly out of the bedroom and down the hallway, the chilly wood quickly warming under your bare feet. The creaking of the floor boards caught his attention, turning to you as you approached the top of the stairs, his striking cerulean eyes scanning every inch of your form. Slowly, carefully, drinking you in like you were a fine wine he wanted to savor.

You were a blessing to every single one of his senses, and he hadn’t even laid a finger on you yet.

“What do you think?” you asked. Anxious energy aside, your award-winning smile broke through as you twirled before him, letting the mesh material swirl around you in a red haze. The way your hair cascaded around you, the twinkle in your eye so bright that he could see it from his place on the couch, your bare ass hidden only behind a thin layer of mesh…

He was enthralled.

Without so much as a word, he was on his feet, moving toward you at a speed that surprised even him. At the top of the steps, he took you in his arms, his hands quickly finding your waist and caressing your sides over your lingerie. You looked deep into his eyes, and beyond all the nerves, apprehensive words, and flustered grumbles, you saw something pure, unfiltered, and heavy—desire.

“Beautiful,” he whispered against your lips before capturing them in a searing yet tender kiss.

He lifted you by the waist, slowly walking you back until you were up against the wall. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair as he set you down. When his hands found your waist again, they slowly traveled north, his touch light as the kiss deepened for a brief moment before he broke away. You pouted, already aching to have his lips on yours again and his tongue in your mouth.

“Can I touch ya?” he asked, his forehead resting against yours. His hands came to a rest under your breasts, the fluffy trim a surprisingly erotic yet welcome sensation against his skin.

Taking a moment to look him over, your already lust-blown eyes darkened further, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. All of the pent-up energy you’d been storing for weeks—hell, months—was pouring out of you faster than you could gain control of it. A soft and mumbled “Christ, yes” spilled out before you pulled him in again, the tip of your tongue teasing his bottom lip, begging for entrance.

He seemed a little surprised at the gesture but obliged, parting his lips enough to allow you in. You chuckled softly into the kiss, tongue exploring his mouth and swallowing every sweet sound he made. Given how surprised he seemed, you figured he had assumed you weren’t well-versed in the world of making out either. But you’d had plenty of heated sessions and got up to some bumping-and-grinding back in the day

You were a virgin, not a saint.

He cupped you over the satin, the swell of your breasts pressing against his fingertips as you inhaled deeply, your chest heaving. You swallowed his groans as he explored you, first just holding, then squeezing, and finally slowly beginning to tease you through the silky fabric. Your nipples hardened, creating small peaks that showed under the cups, and a moan slipped past your tongue as you arched into him further. That moan alone could’ve sent Daryl toppling over the edge.

Fuck, that sound was delicious.

Daryl moved closer, trapping you between him and the wall. You felt something press against the softness of your thigh, and it certainly wasn’t his leg. You giggled softly, amused by just how quickly the illustrious archer got aroused. Like it wasn’t exactly the same for you.

“Do you want some help with that?” you teased, grinding once on his hardness and feeling it twitch against you. You suppressed your own sounds of pleasure, already aching to feel him again.

He hissed though gritted teeth, fighting the growing urge to grind back. “Dun’ want ya to feel pressured into it.”

“I know there’s no pressure here, babe. I want to.” Whatever blood in your body that wasn’t circulating its way down to your core was collecting in your cheeks, the light pink quickly changing to a fire-engine red as your gaze fell to his feet. “Wanted to for a long time.”

He smirked, your reassurance seeming to further break through what remained of his flustered state as he questioned you with a teasing tone. “How long?”

“Long before we got together,” you confessed. Your body relaxed against him, the admission of your sinful thoughts feeling like a weight off your shoulders. And fuck, did it feel good. “Do you want it?”

You looked back up at him, eyes darker and pupils blown out with desire. He bit his lip, trying to subdue the remaining nerves creeping their way into his chest. “Yeah...yeah, I do.”

As your lips warped into something between a smile and a smirk, you took his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers before slipping out from between him and the wall. Pulling him gently behind you, you walked into your bedroom, trailing him over to the bed until he was backed up against it.

Your next sentence came out somewhere between an order and a tease. “Then sit down & let me take care of you.”

It was a promise you were sure to keep. And he knew that too.

Capturing him in another kiss, your hands found his chest, slowly gliding lower to where he needed your touch most. He groaned into the kiss as your fingers found his belt buckle, fiddling with the cool brass and hearing the metallic ‘clink’ as it came undone. You tugged slightly, pulling it free from the restraints of the his belt loops and blindly tossing it somewhere on the floor behind you.

“Can I take these off?” you whispered against his lips as you broke the kiss, panting like you’d been holding your breath for hours. Your thumbs hooked into his loops, and he shuddered in pleasure at the thought of what was coming next.

“Gonna be hard for ya to do anythin’ with ‘em on,” he teased. Daryl didn’t often use humor to cope with nerves, but whenever he did, it never ceased to make you laugh. The gruffness in his voice was thicker, and you could tell—and feel—that his need was growing, both physically and metaphorically.

Finding the button on his jeans, you popped it open swiftly, quickly making work of the zipper. He twitched against your hand, and you chuckled in amusement at just how badly he wanted you. Tugging on his jeans, they fell to his ankles, leaving his erection hidden behind nothing but the sheer fabric of his raggedy old boxers.

“These too?” You played with the elastic waistband, one hand remaining on his hip while the other traced patterns down his thigh, his muscles tightening under your delicate touch. You knew they had to come off for him to get what he wanted, but you wanted that consent every step of the way.

“Mhm,” he assured, that subtle pink returning to his cheeks again.

With a playful grin, your fingers danced over the elastic band, dipping under slowly and dragging them down. You pulled them around his erection, slowly releasing them and trailing your touch up his thighs again.

He swallowed hard as they hit the floor, looking like he wished said floor would swallow him whole. Your eyes immediately fell to it, watching it bounce slightly in the aftermath of being sprung free. You knew Daryl was insecure about his body for a variety of reasons, though in your mind, there was nothing for him to be insecure about. He was attractive, scars and all…and his shaft was no exception.

“You look beautiful, Dar,” you complimented, batting your lashes as you locked eyes with him, “you don’t have to be shy.”

The pink in his cheeks spread to his ears at your words of affirmation, his signature half-smile pulling at his lips, threatening to break free. Daryl never took compliments well, you’d always known that, but he’s gotten better over time. At least with compliments that came from you.

You pressed firmly on his chest, encouraging him to sit at the edge of the bed. As he sat, you drank in the sight of him for the first time. He was slightly bigger than average, veins bulging out on all sides, the tip already beginning to leak pre-cum. You swallowed hard, both to calm your nerves and to keep yourself from drooling at the appetizing human before you.

Lowering to the floor, you settled between his legs, propping yourself up on your knees and sitting back. You steadied yourself with your hands on his thighs, pressing on his knees to encourage him to spread them further. Your touch was electric, and he tensed under you, like if he was too relaxed, his pleasure would overtake him & it would be over before it even started.

His breath hitched at the sight of you—eyes sparkling, hair framing your face, flushed cheeks, and those lips…god, those beautiful lips. You were everything he wanted—needed—and more. Fuck, he had prayed for you, and he hadn’t even realized it.

“Could you talk me through it? Tell me what I should be doing?” You weren’t naive, you knew how blowjobs worked. Hell, you’d even practiced on a dildo a few times before the outbreak. But you wanted to hear what he liked, wanted to hear his voice as it continued to thicken with desire. Wanted to hear him struggle to speak the closer he got to release. The thought alone was creating a small pool of arousal in your panties.

“That what ya want?” he wondered.

You shrugged, your blush deepening from embarrassment. “Well, yeah. I don’t want to make a complete fool of myself.” You looked down briefly between his legs before locking eyes again. “You know I’m not gonna be able to take the whole thing, right?”

“’S’more than okay.” He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb softly caressing your cheek. “We’ll take it slow. Ya get overwhelmed, even a little, jus’ tap my thigh. Promise you’ll do that?”

“I promise,” you confirmed.

“And ya ain’t gon’ make a fool of yourself.” A breathy laugh escaped him as your skin grew hot under his hand. “Can assure ya m’gonna enjoy every second of it.”

You swallowed softly and nodded, his words of reassurance providing some comfort. “Can you hold my hair?”

He didn’t respond at first, rather just gathered your hair in his hand, forming a makeshift ponytail with his fist as the hair tie. He gently guided you forward until you were almost full aligned with his throbbing length before speaking again. “Ya good?”

You nodded and gave him a soft smile. “I’m great.”

He smiled down at you, happy to know you were comfortable. “Jus’ start with your tongue first,” he encouraged, “take it easy. No pushin’ yourself. Dun’ gotta do that for me.”

When your tongue met his sensitive flesh, he gasped, his head falling back as a deep groan followed. You moved onto him slow, swirling around and lapping up the drops of pre-cum that had collected at the tip. You took your time exploring him, feeling him, moving your tongue carefully like you wanted to memorize every vein, every ridge, every single detail of him.

You looked up to gauge his reaction, watching as his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth fell open. The sounds dripping off his lips were unbridled, sinful, and damn near pornographic. Every sound he made went straight to your core, your own arousal becoming difficult to contain with the simple G-string you wore.

If he wasn’t using every fiber of his being to hold back, the sight of you alone would’ve made him come undone on the spot.

“Good,” he praised, his grip on your hair tightening every so slightly, “keep goin’, angel.”

After a few more passes of your tongue, your lips enveloped around him, sucking the tip before slowly moving down and taking more of him in. He fought to keep himself still, the desire to thrust, even just a little, building in his chest with every passing second. But this was your first time, and he wanted it to be special for you.

“Open your mouth more,” he groaned through gritted teeth, and you quickly obliged, opening your jaw further as you took more of him in. You got about halfway before your body threatened to gag, so you stopped there, trying not to push yourself like Daryl had said.

He opened his eyes to take in the view of you, and there weren’t words for what the sight between his legs was doing to him. You, eyes glistening with his cock in your mouth, drool bubbling around the edge of your lips, looking up at him, eager to listen to his every direction, brought up feelings in him he’d never experienced before. “There ya go, Y/N…jus’ like that…”

Your blush intensified at his praises, the dark shade akin to the satin cups of your lingerie. You slowly, carefully bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tongue around him as you moved, sucking the tip as you pulled almost all the way off.

“Harder.” He didn’t intend for it to slip out like a demand, but it had, and it was a demand you were happy to comply with. You followed his order as you continued to move, making sure to swirl your tongue and keep your jaw wide.

He said no pushing yourself, but you wanted to try. When you slid back down onto him, you went further, taking just a little more of him in and causing you to almost gag. But you fought it back, catching yourself before the gag slipped out. His grip on your hair tightened again, eliciting a pleasured groan from you, every sound wave vibrating against him. His moans grew higher in pitch and more rapid, his chest rising and falling faster, his resolve to not thrust into you beginning to dwindle.

He was right on the edge, seconds from toppling over.

A stifled “tongue, baby,” was all he managed to choke out before his release hit him like a tidal wave. Hot, sticky ropes shot to the back of your throat, causing you to gasp and cough softly as he pulled out.

His body writhed as he came, white-knuckling the sheets as he spilled onto you. You continued to cough softly as you watched him, his head falling back and the vein in his neck bulging as he clenched his jaw, moans and groans slipping between his teeth. Watching him squirm like that because of pleasure you delivered sent a tingly sensation straight to your center.

He stared down at you through half-lidded eyes, watching as you coughed and cleared your throat after swallowing nearly every drop of him—every drop that landed in your mouth, at least. The sight of you before had been ethereal, but that combined with having his cum on you? Downright appetizing.

“How was that?” you wondered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and licking it clean.

He tasted good.

Oh wow, he tasted good.

“Ya sure ya ain’t never done this ‘fore?” He had his hands placed on either side of him to steady himself, his words coming out between frantic pants as he tried to catch his breath.

You chuckled softly, flattered that your amateur skills pleased him so much. “I’m sure.”

“Then you’re a pro at followin’ directions,” he smirked, his breathing still rapid as he rode out the aftershocks of his high.

“Well, there’s plenty more where that came from,” you laughed.

You stayed like that for a minute, caressing his legs as he came down from the peak of pleasure and leaving small kisses on his upper thigh. His grip on your hair slowly loosened, locks falling between his fingers. You rested your head on his knee, staring up at him and tracing delicate patterns on the opposite one. After he fully relaxed, he eyes met yours again, smiling softly as he watched you.

“‘S’your turn,” he offered, extending a hand out to help pull you up, “if ya want it, I mean.”

You grinned at the gentlemanly gesture and took his hand. “Mhm,” you agreed, slowly rising to your feet, “just a little nervous is all.” Your gaze fell to the floor, your voice softening, words coated with vulnerability. “Worried you might not like what you see.”

The last sentence broke his heart. He hated to see you—someone so stunning, so confident, so absolutely perfect in every way—think so low of your body. “Can ya look at me?” he asked, putting an index finger under your chin and slowly lifting your head to meet his gaze again. You did so hesitantly, but when you locked eyes with him, a feeling of ease washed over you. His tone was calming, and the honesty in those stunning baby blues, and his words, soothed you. “M’gonna love what I see. Because it’s you.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks again, and despite the urge to look away, you maintain eye contact. Rather than going the self-deprecating route, you chose to believe him, hoping that if anything was truly a problem or a bother, he’d let you know.

“We’ll start slow, yeah?” He sat on the bed again, moving back and patting his leg, encouraging you to sit on his lap. “C’mere.”

Your small grin quickly widened, stretching from ear-to-ear as you stepped over You climbed on and straddled his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck. “This good?”

“’S’great,” Daryl confirmed, His hands found your hips, moving under the flowing bodice, fingers splaying out and barely touching your ass.

He initiated the kiss this time, his tongue quickly pleading for entrance. Subconsciously, you began to move, first rotating your hips in small circles. As you progressed, you began to grind on him, desperate to feel his touch, his friction, his heat where you needed it most. As the kiss deepened, you grew more frantic in your movements, grinding faster and gasping each time the satin came in contact with your clit. Sensing your desperation, Daryl kept you in place with one hand on your hip, the other slowly traveling to your thigh, creeping inward.

He didn’t even need to ask before the words came pouring out your mouth.

“Touch me, Dar,” you begged, tone breathy and your words barely a whisper.

“Ya s—“

You cut off his question with a single word, pleading with him to give you what you were craving. What your body and every single one of your senses was craving.

“Please.”

Pulling your panties to the side, he dragged his index finger through your sensitive folds, causing you to shudder and shake against him before he’d even grazed your most sensitive spot. Had you not been in the writhes of pleasure, you’d almost be embarrassed at how wet you already were.

“Feelin’ good?” he asked, more so a tease than a question.

You nodded, a soft whimper slipping from between your lips as you pulled him back in for a kiss. He swallowed that whimper and each one that followed, two fingers now hooking under your panties and finding your clit, working with expert precision.

A sharp gasp flew from your throat, the pleasure almost overwhelming as he circled you slowly, drawing it out to tease you, to make you feel good for as long as possible. The callousness of his skin against your swollen bud was intoxicating.

As the proverbial knot in your stomach tightened, you struggled to maintain the kiss. It was all becoming too much, every one of your senses overwhelmed and starting to blend together. Your head fell to the crook of his neck, your hips moving in circles as you ached to feel more.

“Need your tongue,” you moaned against him, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, like you thought you would lose your balance and fall over if you didn’t cling to him.

He tapped on your hip, fingers slowing on your clit as you picked your head up to look at him. He searched your eyes for doubt, and when he didn’t see any, he continued. “Ya sure? Dun’ want ya to feel like we’re rushing’ anythin’.”

You nodded emphatically, like you couldn’t answer fast enough. “I want it. Please. I need it,” you practically begged. You brought your arms around, hands cupping his face as your thumbs brushed his high cheekbones. “I need you.”

And that’s exactly what it was. It wasn’t just the pleasure you were searching for—it was experiencing it with him.

He smiled and peeled one of your hands from his face, kissing your palm softly before trailing one down to your wrist. He gently lifted you off, helping you sit next to him.

You moved on the bed, the soft plush of the blanket on your skin a soothing comfort to the nervous energy quickly building within you. Adjusting your position, you laid back, inhaling deeply as you played with the trim of your bodice. Your mind wandered to all sorts of unpleasant outcomes, and although you had craved this moment, dreamt of it, for months, your nerves were starting to get the best of you.

“Ya good?”

His voice cut through your worry like a hot knife through butter, and you met his gaze again, swallowing to suppress the butterflies trying to creep up your throat. “Yeah. I’m great.”

“Ya sure, angel? Lookin’ a lil’ more than jus’ ‘nervous.’”

You nodded, but the look in your eyes indicated something more. “It’s nothing I haven’t already shared. Like you said, there’s a first time for everything, right? And nerves and such, they come with that.”

“Jus’ no pushin’ yourself, remember?” he insisted. He brought a hand up to hold your cheek, pulling you in slightly and kissing your forehead. It was a tender gesture compared to what you had just been begging him for.

“I remember, Dar,” you affirmed, giving him a two-finger salute and eliciting a laugh from him, “no pushing myself, I promise.”

Thumbs hooking into the sides of your G-string, you lifted your hips. He slowly pulled them off, sliding the now sopping material over your knees and ankles, letting them fall to the floor at the foot of the bed. You parted your legs, laying your head back on the pillows and taking a deep, shaky breath. You could feel his eyes on your center, drinking you in, and you bit your bottom lip.

Sure, he’d just been touching you, but now he was seeing you, and those were two very, very different things.

He climbed back up to you, kissing your forehead once more when he saw the blush that started in your cheeks creep down your neck. “Don’t got nothin’ to be shy ‘bout,” he reassured, “you’re gorgeous.”

You blinked your eyes open, meeting his, and the look in them was soft, promising. It pulled a grin from you, albeit a small one. “Told ya we’d take it easy,” he reminded, echoing his earlier words, “ya wanna stop, jus’ tap my head.”

“I can do that,” you replied.

You had zero intentions of stopping, though.

As he walked to the end of the bed and settled down. “Now just lay there ’n look pretty.”

He hooked his arms under your legs, pulling you closer to him and eliciting a giggly gasp from you. His hot breath ghosted your aching flesh, spiking your arousal. He started slow, placing feather-light kisses up your inner thigh until he was just shy of your core, repeating the same on the other thigh. Each one sent little sparks through your entire body, and you fought to keep from squirming. Those kisses trailed to your heat, still feather-light, like he was afraid you would fall apart if he pressed just a bit too hard.

Well, you would fall apart, but not in the sense of you being fragile.

And as his tongue made contact with your slit, dragging through your wetness slowly, a sultry moan rose from the depths of your chest, slipping out before you could do anything to stop it.

He flattened his tongue, repeating the same gliding motion from bottom to top, drawing the motion out over your clit. Your eyes began to roll back, and you squirmed against him, forcing him to tighten his arms around your thighs to keep you in place.

His fingers felt amazing, but his tongue was euphoric.

You arch your back, pressing into him, wanting—no, needing—every bit of pressure possible against your swollen bud. Even a split second without his touch felt like hell, and you began to grind against his face, desperate for more.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, words spilling out like a filthy prayer.

Threading your fingers into his hair, you tugged softly, hips bucking instinctively. He chuckled against you, the vibrations channeling straight to your clit. Your mind was clouded, tunnel vision focusing on your pleasure as every other thought blurred together and faded into the background.

For a brief moment, you pried your eyes open and looked down at Daryl, nestled between your legs and going to town on you like you were his last meal. He worked with a precision and voracity you’d never seen before. He was determined to make you come, to be the first to give you that taste of ecstasy you’d only given yourself. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to consume you.

He wanted to devour you like a starved man.

As your head falls back again, his tongue penetrates you for a brief moment, dipping in and out of your entrance before making quick work of your clit again, flicking and lapping the sensitive bundle of nerves. Somehow, no matter how much pressure he applied, it was never enough—you needed more, more, more.

“C-c-close,” you choke out. tears welling in the corners of your eyes. The pleasure was almost too intense, too overstimulating, too much.

With that, he dips his tongue in again, deeper this time, wriggling it inside you. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him. He thrusts his tongue a few times, looking up briefly to watch your squirm, your mouth fallen open and face contorted in pure ecstasy. Abruptly, he pulls out and presses his lips to your clit, sucking hard.

And it pushes you right over the edge.

The knot in your stomach snaps, and your release crashes over you, your back arching sharply as you spasmed against his face, coating him with your release. Every cell in your body was singing, vibrating in ways you’d never experienced before. You continued to grind on him, your hips bucking against your will as your body sought to prolong your pleasure. Your grip on his hair tightened, pulling him into you further.

That was far better than any orgasm you’d ever given yourself.

He continues to taste you through your high, his tongue slowing as you came down from the peak of pleasure. His licks turned into small flicks, which turned into kisses. After a minute, he stood up, crawling into bed next to your relaxed form. You looked beautiful laying there—chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, your body still twitching as the aftershocks rolled in, completely spent with a dazed look in your sparkling eyes.

You didn’t look at him at first, just continued to stare at the ceiling, blinking occasionally and waiting for your breathing to return to normal. You could see him in your peripheral, rolling over onto his side to face you and propping himself up on one elbow, his fingers finding a chunk of your hair and twirling it absentmindedly. The flush that started as a glowing red faded to a dull pink, and you swallowed, the fog beginning to lift from your mind.

“That good?” he asked, reaching out to tuck a lock of stray hair behind your ear. Though his tone indicated teasing, he was being genuine. Of course he wanted to know how your first experience was. He wanted to make sure you felt good & you were happy. And he certainly checked both of those boxes.

His finger in your hair broke you from your stupor, and you turned your head to him, meeting his gaze. You smiled softly, and his signature half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he observed you in your blissed-out state.

“Good? Holy shit,” you sighed, giggling faintly. You pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and kissed the tip of his cute little button-nose, “best head I’ve ever gotten.”

He chuckled softly, almost in protest. “Ya dun’ got nothin’ to compare it to.” He threaded an arm under you, pulling you against him and wrapping his other arm around you to hold you in place, creating a little nest of sorts. A nest of comfort.

“I don’t need to to know it was the best. Because it was you,” you assured, locking eyes again as you relaxed further into him, a content sigh slipping through your lips, “we continue later?”

“Only if ya wanna,” he replied, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, taking his sweet time doing so. Just like he always did.

You nodded, the motion barely noticeable as you yawned against him, burying your face in his chest. “Right now, I just want to snuggle with you.”

And as you lay there, bundled up in his nearly-suffocating warmth, your eyes fluttered closed, another yawn escaping you. The cozy atmosphere and post-orgasm relaxation lulled you into a peaceful slumber, Daryl holding you the entire time.

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GIF and ©️ below were made by me. Sparkle & ‘sexual content’ dividers are by @anitalenia

[advantage-artrick]

so this topic has been in convo recently sooo...wanted to see what you would think of it...art gangbang👀 who said that?!!-

omg yessss!! the slutty art agenda has been taking over, and i am so here for ittt! ❤️🤭

i'd say my biggest thought on the matter is that patrick should always be there in some capacity, whether he's participating, moderating, or even just on the phone supervising from a distance. (gotta protect the merchandise, you know?)

anywho, for the purposes of this fic, i think i want him present and pantsless, so that's what we're gonna do. 😊

after all, you can't get special best friend privileges if you're on the other side of the country, now can you?

CW: gangbang (duh), slutty!art, kinda d/s, slight feminization, a lil humiliation, we hit home base on this one folks, mdni!!

yippee! okay, enjoy! 🥰✨️

XOXO

despite only being in his second semester at stanford, art had made quite the name for himself on the men's tennis team.

not only was he an excellent player who could give even the fastest fourth-years a run for their money, he was also considered by many to be the life of the fucking party.

art was probably the biggest lightweight on the team, which they all found surprising considering the stories he'd told them about boarding school and his crazy roommate patrick. while it was true that he was good at smoking because of it, and he was good at keeping drinks down, when it came to staying sober, he remained positively hopeless.

not that anyone minded, of course, because a drunk art was a slutty art, and a slutty art was so. much. fun.

whenever the tennis team decided to meet up and crash a friday-night frat party, they usually waited until art was on his third drink to start fucking around. that's because the third drink was when art started to get flushed and giggly, and it was also when he started responding. . . differently to their playful comments.

usually, when they teased him in the locker rooms, calling him "pretty like a girl" and making fun of his smooth, pale chest, he just rolled his eyes and shoved them off with a laugh when they tried to grab a handful of his ass.

but, when they did the same thing to a freshly tipsy art, there wasn't an ounce of annoyance in sight. they called their little game 'fake out,' because the goal was to get art so needy and drunk on their attention that he wouldn't pull away if someone leaned in to kiss him.

but when the 'chosen one' eventually did, they would always change course at the very last second, leaving poor art confused, pouting, and desperate to be touched.

it wasn't that none of them wanted to kiss him. hell, he was so fuckin' pretty even the straightest guys on the team thought about it sometimes.

one of the only reasons none of them ever gave in to his pretty, pleading eyes was that they had a very high-stakes bet going on between them. the bet was that the first person to break and kiss art while playing fake out would be forced to strip naked and run across campus in the middle of the night until they were seen by at least one person.

so, yeah. art remained unkissed despite his drunken self's best efforts.

but then patrick came down for a visit one week in april, and, well, he had always been a bit of a game-changer.

it didn't take long for the team to notice that patrick was a bit protective of art, especially in a party environment. he stuck close to his side the whole time, steering him away from offers of hard drugs and blowjobs from plastered, half-naked girls. he even monitored how much art was drinking while they were there, making sure he took things slow and didn't overdo it after his inhibitions started to flutter away from him.

that's probably why the tennis players waited until art was on his fifth drink and they were all quite hammered themselves to begin their favorite party game. as usual, they all gravitated back together after an hour or two of socializing, and when the guys saw art wandering over to them, giggling and practically hanging off patrick's arm, they exchanged knowing smirks, getting ready to see who would be the 'chosen one' of the evening.

"hey, donaldson. cute shirt," a third-year named brett started off, giving the others a wink to let them know it was time.

"aww thanks, i just got it 'cause i liked the color," art replied, giving him a dopey, lop-sided smile.

"yeah? you got a good eye then, art. lavender suits you," another boy named marcus added. he was the only openly gay guy on the team, but no one ever gave him shit for it.

after all, the only thing it really affected was his success rate when playing fake out. he'd been the 'chosen one' ten times more than any of the other guys, likely because he had a way with words that art fell face-first for almost every time they played.

art grinned, giggling as he slumped against patrick's shoulder, relying on him entirely to stay up on his feet. patrick just rolled his eyes, steadying him easily as if he'd done it a thousand times before. he didn't seem to be catching onto the game quite yet, but he was certainly well-aware of what art was like when he'd had a few drinks.

"hey, art, why don't you give patrick's poor shoulder a rest, huh?" josh, a second-year singles player, suggested. "come over here with me, i'll make sure you don't fall over."

art nodded easily, entranced as he removed himself from patrick's side and stumbled in josh's direction. but right as he was about to fall into his teammate's waiting arms, one final voice spoke up from the arm chair in their corner.

"no, no, no, hang on, artie."

this voice belonged to none other than austin, their beloved team captain.

"come sit on my lap, sweetheart. josh is so clumsy, he'd drop you right on that cute little ass of yours."

"i would not! art, c'mere," josh retorted, pulling art closer by his wrist and wrapping an arm tightly around his waist.

art squeaked, blushing as he glanced between the two of them nervously. he looked so out of it already, just from a few compliments and a little fight for his attention. it was enough to get him higher than any drug on the market.

now, patrick seemed to be catching on. he could tell they were supposedly just fucking with art for their entertainment. but, he could also detect a strong hunger in their body language towards him, telling patrick that not everything they were saying was entirely untrue.

"there we go. hey, pretty boy," austin cooed with a salacious grin.

patrick hadn't heard what he'd said to win the battle with josh, but when he looked up, art was sitting sideways on his lap in the arm chair, giggling as austin poked playfully at his waist.

the other guys were watching on with jealous eyes, pretty much resigned to the fact that they weren't going to be the night's winner. patrick smirked, the scene reminding him of similar situations they'd been in back at the academy.

he'd used to be just like those boys, pining as he watched art soak up the attention of other guys like a little sponge. but that had been before he'd discovered just how easy art really was when he was drunk, and how easy he was sober if you knew the right buttons to push.

"wow, you're so light, artie," austin teased, standing up with art in his arms just to hear him squeal. "how much are you, anyway, 120?"

"shit, austin, you know you never ask a girl that," brett spoke up, acting mockingly aghast.

art blushed, squirming in austin's hold as he whined out a petulant, "'m not a girl."

"might as well be," marcus said casually, as if that simple sentence didn’t make art hard as a rock within seconds every time they did this.

"you sure are soft like one," brett supplied.

"you got some pretty nice tits, too," austin purred, sitting back down so art wouldn't wiggle right out of his arms.

"yeah?" art sighed drowsily, biting his lip at austin with a shy smile.

"oh, yeah," the team captain answered, walking his fingers up art's stomach so he could squeeze one of his growing pecs playfully.

they'd certainly gotten bigger since the beginning of the year. actually, it was one of the first things patrick noticed every time he came to visit.

art moaned softly, letting his head fall onto austin's shoulder with a hum.

"god, he is so. . ." brett commented, fully entranced by the beauty of art's syrupy movements and subtle flirtations.

even when he was overwhelmed with all the attention, art still managed to keep every boy present wrapped around his little finger.

even patrick, who was the only one to have already gotten a taste, was watching in awe, waiting for a chance to pull art's focus back over to himself.

"can you hurry up and win already, asshole? i want a turn," josh complained, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed.

"who says you get him next?" marcus asked him, smirking deviously.

"marc, i swear to god-"

patrick frowned, wondering exactly what winning meant in this scenario. it didn't take long for him to find out, because right after josh said it, austin pulled art's head up from his shoulder and leaned in as if to press their lips together.

art shut his eyes, tilting his head up eagerly. . . but the contact never came. right at the last second, austin brought a hand up to cover his mouth, veering off course to kiss his forehead instead.

"fake out," brett grinned, and the guys all laughed, watching art's face fall in disappointment.

suddenly, it was starting to make a whole lot more sense why art hadn't told patrick about having hooked up with anyone on the team.

it's because he hadn't.

but it wasn't because they didn't want him. it couldn't be. patrick could clearly see that they would kill for an hour alone with him, so why. . .?

"you guys are so mean," art huffed, but he made no move to get off his captain's lap. he was obviously used to their little game, but that didn't mean he was any better at stopping himself from being pulled along and getting caught up in the moment. it just meant he was less embarrassed about it in the mornings now.

he never expected to be kissed, but he never stopped hoping, either.

the team laughed again, knowing there were no real bad feelings between them. in fact, josh was already trying to lure art over to him with the promise of a shoulder massage, but art was being a tease, smiling as he told him marcus' were better anyway.

they all appeared to be having fun on the surface, but patrick knew art, and he knew when art was desperate to be touched.

this was probably the most needy he'd ever seen art get with anyone else. he was so red and glassy-eyed, and whatever he thought about when he spaced out for a second was practically making him drool. he wanted it bad, but no one was giving it to him, and patrick was absolutely not having it.

"art, c'mere," he ordered, and the whole circle fell silent.

the guys looked over at him in surprise, almost like they'd totally forgotten he was there. art nodded absently, austin helping him get back on his feet before he was wandering back over to patrick with zero hesitation.

"pat, they're being mean to me," art whined, tucking himself back under his best friend's outstretched arm.

art practically melted into his side, taking a deep breath of his party cologne and nosing idly at patrick's jaw. it was almost like he belonged there, and none of the guys had ever seen him quite so at peace when he was already that drunk and horny.

"i saw," patrick responded, raising an eyebrow at the group. there was a part of him that yearned to establish who art's 'chosen one' really was, regardless of who he would've let kiss him. "care to explain?"

"it's just a game, man," josh defended after a moment, not wanting to show how much patrick actually intimidated them. "he's cool with it, i swear."

patrick scoffed, biting back a groan when art started mouthing drunkenly at his neck.

"i know that," he spat, laughing at their scared expressions. "i'm asking why none of you assholes have fucked him yet."

"they've got a bet or somethin'," art mumbled after a moment of startled silence. "they think i don't know 'bout it, but it's why they won't kiss me. . . will you kiss me? pleaseee?"

"just a sec, baby, i wanna talk to them first," patrick placated, smiling at him lovingly.

he was just the cutest thing sometimes. he made it hard for those around him to maintain their self control, which was why it was so surprising these guys had held out for months against their desires because of some stupid bet.

"hang on, dude. before you say anything, the bet isn't why we haven't passed him around yet," marcus butted in from his spot next to austin's chair. "we didn't want to do anything like that because we knew he'd regret it in the morning. he only ever wants us when he's drunk. when we say shit like that in the locker rooms, he always tells us to fuck off. it just didn't feel right."

the team appeared to think patrick would be understanding of this, or perhaps even grateful, but after hearing their little respectful explanation, the only thing he could do was laugh.

"aww, art, have you been playing hard to get?" he teased, tugging at art's messy curls to hear him whimper. "what, you didn't want your new college friends to know you're a slut when you're sober too?"

art groaned, hiding his face bashfully in patrick's shoulder.

"'m not a slut," he argued, but the way he was trying to crawl inside patrick's skin was kind of contradicting that statement.

"no? well, you'll have to tell that to the seven guys who took turns with you back at the academy, huh? and you'll have to convince me too, artie, but we both know that's not going to happen."

"yeah, okay," art sighed. "whatever, can you please just make them fuck me now, pat?"

"all of them?" patrick asked with a smirk, surveying the group to get their reactions.

oh, they were down. every single one of them was so fucking down.

"uhuh," art confirmed, risking a glance over at the team. they were all watching him with darkened eyes, as if they were one small gesture away from tearing him apart on the spot.

art's blush deepened. just looking at the hunger in their gazes was making him feel antsy. almost empty, really.

"so, what do you say, guys?" patrick asked them, grinning. "you think you can share?"

the agreement was, as expected, unanimous and very enthusiastic.

and that's how art found himself back at his dorm, starting to sober up as five boys crowded around where he was sitting on his bed.

well, four of them did, at least. patrick was standing off to the side, watching as they approached to make sure art was in good hands.

josh, who thankfully happened to be art's new roommate, stepped up first. for all his earlier bravado, he seemed hesitant to start anything without patrick's permission, likely still in disbelief that this was actually happening.

patrick sighed, pushing him aside and taking his place in front of art.

"come on, guys," he huffed impatiently. "if you're still thinking about your little bet, i will gladly kiss him first. i never agreed to it so i can't lose, right?"

art nodded happily before the team could even respond, reaching up to pull patrick between his legs.

within seconds, patrick was pushing him down on the bed and kissing him hard, doing everything he knew art liked with an easy precision.

art gasped, wrapping his legs around patrick's waist to pull him closer. it was exactly what he'd been needing for months, and he couldn't help but curse himself for how embarrassed he'd been all year to ask for it.

but he had it now, and all he could focus on was the wet slide of his tongue against his best friend's and the thrilling sound of belt buckles being unfastened in the background.

the rest of the night occurred in three stages.

the first stage had him on his hands and knees, moaning around josh's cock while patrick got him opened up with his fingers.

it wasn't something pat trusted any of the other guys to do, that was for sure. not even marcus, who had offered, but patrick knew art's body better than any of them, and he really didn't want him to get hurt.

not too hurt, at least. he didn't seem to care when josh started fucking art's mouth, making him choke and drool in an attempt to keep up. he was taking it well, though, swallowing him down to the base with ease and letting out sounds of enjoyment that were driving everyone in the room crazy with desire.

"fuck, look at him," they were saying, all either stroking themselves lazily or just about to.

it was the most pornographic thing they'd ever witnessed, and three of them hadn't even touched him yet.

"yeah- fuck- take it, baby. jus' like that," josh groaned, pulling his hair until art keened and started leaking on the mattress below him.

when patrick brushed over his sweet spot a few times, prodding at it roughly just to be a menace, art gasped and came for the very first time that night.

"fuckin' slut," patrick laughed, pulling his fingers out and smacking his ass for good measure.

art whined, arching into his hand like he wanted more, and as much from the sight of him as the warmth of his mouth, josh was finishing right after in record time.

art's eyes fluttered contentedly, the feeling of josh filling his mouth making him hot and dizzy. he swallowed it all like it was nothing, falling face-first into the bed as soon as josh pulled out.

that seemed to be his way of begging for more.

"who do you want first, baby?" patrick asked, spreading him open to tease his teammates with the sight of his tiny pink hole.

austin groaned, looking like he might pass out if he didn't get inside him immediately.

"victor gets the spoils," he said, stepping forward before anyone else could.

patrick snorted, letting him take his place behind art and going to grab them all some condoms. he silenced their complaints with a single glare, reminding them how lucky they were he was letting this happen in the first place.

once austin was all wrapped up, it was time for stage two.

in stage two, no one was left behind. while austin was fucking art from behind, art was up on his knees, going back and forth between sucking off brett and marcus.

within minutes, he was struggling to stay focused, moaning as austin absolutely pounded his prostate. he could barely stop his eyes from rolling back in his head, much less keep his lips wrapped around brett's cock.

but he did his best and they seemed to be enjoying it, pulling his hair and fucking his mouth when they could. marcus even slapped him once or twice, mostly out of overwhelming affection, and art fucking loved it every single time it happened.

the second austin stilled inside him, art fell forward between the two in front of him, pushing back against austin's lap to prolong the feeling of his cock pulsing against his walls. he couldn't feel him filling him up like he wanted to, but just imagining it was enough to have him shooting off again.

"oh my god," brett groaned, hurrying to take austin's place the second he pulled out. "this is fucking unreal. i swear, his ass should be in a museum."

"tell me about it," austin huffed, ruffling art's hair as he went to join patrick and josh on the other bed. "just wait 'til you get inside him."

"he's good, huh?" patrick agreed, grinning proudly.

"oh, fuck yeah. tightest pussy i ever had."

art was panting and a bit overstimulated, but he was in heaven, listening to them all talk about him like he wasn't there to hear it.

he let out a high-pitched whine, biting his lip when brett spread his cheeks open and spat directly on his twitching hole.

"you wanna eat him out?" patrick asked, palming himself languidly through the boxers he'd stripped down to. "it's his favorite thing, i swear to god. he'll be all over you for weeks if you do."

art hummed in agreement, his eyes unfocused and his brain barely working. he wasn't even sure entirely what he was agreeing to, he just knew he wanted something else inside him.

"nah, man. i would, but i'd feel like i'm indirectly sucking austin's dick, and i'm not really into that," brett answered, thumbing over art's entrance reverently.

patrick shrugged as if to say 'your loss,' and then brett was sliding a condom on and pressing into art's perfect ass in one clean thrust.

and that's how things continued for the next hour or so, each teammate taking turns with art's mouth and ass, usually two at a time but sometimes three when art could manage it.

they didn't stop until everyone had come at least twice and art had finished three times, which is when he'd promptly fallen flat on his face, cushioned by the mattress while everyone laughed and high fived around him.

"bro, we didn't even touch his dick once," josh pointed out, nodding towards the wet spot on the bed beside him.

"slut," austin mumbled, smiling at how cute he looked all fucked out and boneless. "i can't believe we waited so fucking long to do this."

"oh my god, the locker room is going to be hell for him now," marcus added, chuckling. he clearly didn't feel bad about it at all.

"yeah, 'cause now we know he likes it, and we've got more buttons to press," brett grinned.

"you know, this might be the straightest i've ever felt," marcus declared, studying art's curves curiously.

"well yeah," josh shrugged, as if that made perfect sense. "i mean, all the boys you've fucked before this have been boys, and he's. . . well. . ."

patrick snorted, adding that comment to his list of things to tease art with later. he was the only one who hadn't gotten to fuck him yet, preferring to stay off to the side supervising in case something went wrong.

when the guys had asked him why, though, he'd just said, "if i take my turn now, he won't be as tight when you go again."

and they'd laughed and told him to fuck off, but they hadn't pushed anymore. patrick was definitely grateful for that, but it had been a long night of not coming deep inside his best friend's ass, and he knew it was his time to shine.

"looks like you'll have to do all the work on this one, man," austin said when he saw patrick standing up to go over to him. "i don't know if he could help if he tried."

patrick just shrugged, rolling him over and smiling when art blinked sleepily up at him.

"you alright?" he asked, climbing up on the bed beside him.

"patrick," art sighed, reaching up to touch his pretty dark curls. "'m good."

"yeah?"

patrick shifted so he was hovering over art, sliding one knee up between his thighs. art nodded, making room for him and pulling him down into a hug.

"soooo good," he slurred, giggling breathlessly. "but. . . wan' you to come in me. please?"

and who was patrick to deny him such a thing?

"that's so not fair, bro," brett pouted, but he sat down on josh's bed to watch anyway.

the other guys joined him, admittedly curious to see what art was like with someone who knew him so well.

"best friend privileges," patrick smirked, tugging his boxers down to finally pull his aching cock out.

and this was stage three.

one of the guys gasped. another muttered an astonished, "oh, shit."

they would never say it out loud, but patrick's earlier excuse may not have been a complete lie.

art, on the other hand, had absolutely zero problem saying it right to his face.

"mmmh so big, patrick," he moaned when he felt it start to push inside him. "so good."

the others watched on in awe (and maybe a bit of envy) as patrick made art completely fall apart piece by piece.

with just a few slow thrusts, he had him almost arching off the mattress, mewling with his eyes rolled back in his head. even though he'd already come three times, he was impossibly hard, and his pretty cock was leaking onto his soft stomach with every little grind.

"there we go," patrick breathed. it was almost like he'd been watching them act all proud of themselves all night just so he could step in and show them how it's really done.

like he wanted them to know they would never be able to get art like this. not like he could.

never like him.

"doin' so good, baby. you were so fuckin' good. so pretty," he murmured, pressing their lips together gently before hooking his arms under art's knees and folding him completely in half.

art cried out from the change in the angle of patrick's thrusts, every single movement causing the fat head of pat's dick to brush his sweet spot perfectly.

spurred on by his needy sounds, patrick picked up the pace, fucking him faster and deeper until art was trembling beneath him and his face was wet with tears.

"come on, baby," patrick huffed, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. "come on, you gonna come f'me? hmm?"

art nodded, sobbing as his release slammed into him and his poor, weeping cock spurted weakly across his tummy.

patrick groaned at the sight of him. he was such a fucking mess. his face was covered in drool and tears, he had somebody's cum in his hair despite how good he was at swallowing, and he had bruises forming on his hips and his own release all over his chest and stomach. he looked like he'd just been passed around the whole fucking school, and patrick had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

"oh, fuck. good boy, artie," patrick groaned, fucking him slower as he worked through the aftershocks of his fourth orgasm of the night. "i know, baby," he cooed. "i know, they can't fuck you like i can, huh?"

there were a few noises of offense from the other side of the room, but they were quickly silenced by art's enthusiastic agreement.

patrick laughed, thrusting a few more times before he was coming, spilling deep inside him just like art had been waiting for all night.

art sighed, relaxing into the feeling of being completely filled up. patrick kissed him then, tilting his head up so he could slip his tongue past art's lips.

the poor thing hadn't really been kissed all night. everyone else had been so focused on getting their dicks in his holes to think he might want something like this.

that was perfectly fine, though. it was just another bullet point they could add to the list of things he could only ever get from patrick.

yeah, art donaldson may have been a slut, but to say he didn't belong to anybody. . .

well, that would be a bold-faced lie.

sorry this one took so long, it kinda ran away from me 😅😭

i really need to work on making these shorter lol, like not every smut request requires months of context.

anywho, i hope it was worth the wait! i love love love slutty art, so this was an absolute joy to write! requests are always open!

XOXO ❤️✨️

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 2 - Twilight Town - Mansion Basement

[rosenclaws]

What you've been missing || Worst!Logan x Reader

summary: Logan has found work at a local pet shelter but the last person he expects to see is his very cute neighbor looking for a new cat.

warnings: sad cat backstory, fluff, swearing

a/n: Here's pet shelter logan!! I'm ngl I almost started crying writing this because I want a cat so fucking bad but my dad is allergic and I still live at home so I can't get one. Also it made me think of this one senior cat I saw and I wanted so bad I cried to my boyfriend for days. Anyways I hope lives up to the og idea blurb I had. I've been feeling a little down and wanted to write something cute for a change.

"Hey watch the claws bub." Logan glares at his attacker. The one who stuck their sharp little claws into his leg as they climb his body like a tree.

Merooow

The adorable orange cat looks up at him with innocent little eyes. The cutest he's ever seen. Sighing he takes the cat in one hand and places her on his shoulder.

"This is why the others think I play favorites Jeanie." he mumbles. She just purrs happily, rubbing her head against Logan's and taking her place on his wide shoulders.

This really isn't how Logan expected to spend his time. But getting pulled into a new universe meant he was starting from square one and that meant he needed a job and money. Bad. If he ever wanted to get his own place so he didn't have to wake up and see Wade walking around in nothing while making breakfast. Most places were unsure about hiring a man like Logan.

Until he stumbled upon a local pet shelter. Yeah he's not exactly what anyone would think when they thought animal rescue but the animals loved him and this shelter desperately needed help. Plus Logan always got along better with animals than humans. Logan was primarily put in charge of the cats. Feeding, changing their litter box, and playing with them.

Logan understood the cats and they seemed to understand him. They wouldn't hiss or scratch him out of fear, they inherently trusted him. He found himself a little home. He could escape the world and just be around the animals.

"Where are my babies?" He hears Wades voice come from the other room. Logan rolls his eyes as he walks in with a big bag of cat food on his other shoulder.

"There you are Shopping cart and Totino's pizza rolls." Wade scratches the two cats heads. Surprise surprise he named them.

Though as soon as they hear Logan walk in they abandon Wade without a second thought. Logan slices open the bag and pours food into each bowl. The cats scramble to eat, doesn't matter if you had fed them an hour ago they're always happy for food.

"Jeanie, you gotta eat bub." Logan raises his hand and gently pets her head. But her claws dig deep into his shirt.

"Alright come on," Logan he grabs a can of cat food and walks into an empty room.

The sound of it opening makes her ears perk up. Logan gently takes her off his shoulder and places her on the table next to the canned food. He watches as she sniffs it, taking a few small bites before looking back at him.

"More than that." He scolds and she just meows back.

"Please?" She takes one more small bite before abandoning the food and curling up by his side.

Logan sighs, pushing his hair back as takes her in his arms. Jeanie was a surrendered cat. Logan hadn't been here long when she was brought in. Her owner was an old lady who had passed away and her kids couldn't keep Jeanie.

The first week was really hard. She was sad, lonely, and would barely touch her food and water. At first Logan let the more experienced staff deal with her but she just wouldn't budge. Eventually he gave it a shot, talking to her and pushing some nice wet food towards her. To everyone's shock she actually responded to Logan. Peeking her head out of her cage and giving even sniffing his hand.

Since then she really only responded to Logan. Following him around and giving him all her love and attention. She was a mature cat, not as cute as the kittens that most people scooped up right away. It did hurt Logan just a little to see her be passed up because of her age, but Logan did enjoy getting to see her everyday. Still, he knows that with Mary Puppins at home he can't adopt her.

Suddenly the door opens and Jeanie scurries back up to Logan's shoulder.

"Logan, I have a 1:30 appointment and Kathy isn't here so I need you to cover her." Penny begs, she's the one who runs the shelter. She gave Logan the job and he does owe her, but he's never been good with customers.

"I don't know, not exactly a people person." He mumbles but she just rolls her eyes, grabbing his wrist and drags him out of the room. Well kind of, it's hard to pull a 300lb man with a metal skeleton.

"Just one appointment. Show them some cats and see if they want to adopt. That's it."

"Okay," Logan agrees, hoping it's over quickly. He tries to put Jeanie down but she throws a fit, meowing loudly until he just gives up.

"Fine, but you keep it down when I'm talking alright?" He pushes open the door leading to the lobby and stops right in his tracks.

There you are sitting on the waiting room couch. Logan knows you. You live a couple apartments down from Wade. He's seen you in passing, catching whiffs of your shampoo in the elevator in the least creepy way ever. You've shared a few hellos but that's it.

The truth is Logan's pretty...well pretty. Your crush on him wasn't surprising in the slightest but you try and stay clear of him, hoping that it will go away so that you can actually talk to the man one day.

"Logan? I didn't know you worked here?" You say, shocked to see your hot neighbor here.

"Yeah, uh anyways you here to adopt a cat?" He asks awkwardly.

"I hope," You respond.

He nods his head and opens the door for you, putting his hand out as to say you first. Logan shows you a couple cats up for adopting, they're all adorable but none of them feel quite right. On the bright side they're kittens so you know they'll be adopted soon.

Logan remains relatively quiet as you say hi to each cat. Wade's been incredibly persistent about getting him to talk to you. Saying that only serial killers smell peoples hair in the elevator and to just pop a Viagra and talk to you. Pushing Wade's stupidly aside, he really doesn't know how to talk to you.

It's stupid, he used to be great at this kind of thing. Flirting was second nature to Logan but now he can barely think of a conversation starter. Plus you don't make it easy when your laugh is so hypnotizing and your smile is brighter than the moon.

"Who's this pretty girl?" Your voice breaks his thoughts. You're pointing to Jeanie who was still on his shoulder.

"Oh, this is Jeanie." She tilts her head at the sound of her name.

"She's so cute." You lift your hand up but Jeanie shrinks away. You immediately pull your hand back, afraid that you've upset her.

"Don't feel bad, she's not great with people."

"Reminds me of someone else I know." You joke. Logan raises an eyebrow, are you talking about him?

"Me, I was talking about me." You add on quickly.

"I've never really been great at making friends or just being around people." The truth is you're lonely.

You're tired of coming home to an empty cold apartment after work. Sure sometimes you go out with coworkers or old friends but it's not the same. You like being alone but you don't like to be lonely. Does that even make any sense? Not that you want to burden Logan with your problems.

"I wanted to adopt a cat because I wanted a friend, is that sad?" You ask nervously. Logan chuckles, reaching up and placing Jeanie down on the counter nearby.

"Not at all, I get it." Logan was alone for a lot of his life and he's still adjusting to having friends. A family if you could call it that. A really weird and fucked up family.

"Play nice Jeanie, I like this one so don't go scratching them up." He whispers, but you catch his words anyways. A faint smile on your lips as you reach your hand out slowly.

"Hi Jeanie, I'm a friend of Logan's." This time Jeanie doesn't run away, in fact she sniffs your hand cautiously.

She looks back at Logan and he nods. You smile when she rubs the side of her face against your hand. Walking around slowly as she takes you in.

"I think she likes you." Logan says.

Carefully you pet her head, making sure not to overstep any boundaries and Jeanie seems to love it. She even rolls on her back surprising both you and Logan.

"Her owner passed away, that's why she's here." He explains as you continue to pet her. Her big eyes are too much to resist. You know senior cats often get overlooked but she deserves to be loved again.

"Is she adoptable?" You ask and Logan hesitates. The answer is yes but apart of him doesn't want to see her go. He's grown very fond of her. But...she deserves a home. Even if it will hurt letting her go.

"Yeah, she is." He says softly.

"If its okay with you, I want to adopt her." Logan's heart clenches, he smiles but he feels the sadness creep in.

"Of course, let me get the paperwork." When Logan disappears you see Jean start to look around, wondering where her friend had gone.

"Hey there girl, If it's okay I want to take you home. I promise I'll take really good care of you." You say gently.

Her little whiskers twitch and she gently headbutts your face. The connection you feel with Jeanie is something you just haven't felt with any of the other cats. You want to love her and give her a nice warm home with toys and treats and anything she could ever want. But apart of you feels guilty knowing how close she is to Logan.

"Just need you to sign a few things and then pay the adoption fee." Logan says, coming back through the door.

Jeanie trots up to Logan and rubs her head all over his hand and torso. Purring happily as he scratches her head. But she makes no move to get on his shoulder, in fact she trots over to you and does the exact same thing. He's always heard that cats have a good sense of character, so he trusts Jeanies judgement here.

After signing the papers and paying the fee Logan helps you carry Jeanie to your car. You can see the hesitancy in Logan's face. The sadness behind those hazel eyes of his.

"Logan, do you want to say goodbye?" You ask softly. He was never going to ask for himself but you could sense he needs it.

"If you don't mind." He mumbles.

"Of course, I'll go put the rest of the stuff in my car." You touch his arm, squeezing it gently before giving them their space.

"Alright Jeanie listen up, you gotta be on your best behavior okay? You deserve this and I know they're gonna love you real good." Logan holds Jeanie up to his face. She just meows as Logan talks.

"I'll miss you bub, don't tell any of the other cats but...you were my favorite." He gives her one last chin scratch.

Jeanie headbutts his face one more time, rubbing her head along his jaw as if to say goodbye. You watch the whole thing from your car, you feel horrible taking her away from Logan. But you know that your building has a rule against more than one pet. If anyone were to take her, he's glad it's you.

Maybe...maybe this is your chance to talk to Logan. Your crush lingers but maybe you don't have to get over it. Logan walks over and hands her to you. He starts to walk away but you call his name, chasing after him.

"You know, I could really use some help with Jeanie. I mean I don't know what food she likes or her favorite toys or anything like that." You ramble, seeing Logan's face turn to that of confusion.

"I was wondering, if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night? Help Jeanie get settled in and stuff." You ask nervously. Your anxiety building as you wonder if this was a mistake.

"You sure?" Logan asks, unsure if you're just doing this because you feel bad for him.

"Yes. I mean. I've been wanting to ask you to dinner sooner but I've never found the right moment because you're really hot and you make me very nervous but Jeanie is going to miss you and it would be cruel of me to keep you two apart so it's a win win situation and I'm going to stop talking now." The words vomit from your mouth before you can stop them.

Great now he's going to think you're creepy and lonely. Logan chuckles, a blush creeping up his face. Was it always this hot outside today?

"Dinner sounds great. I can't cook for shit but I can try for you." Your face breaks out into a smile, Jeanie purring as you hold her close to your chest.

"Then its a date." You say shyly. Logan steps closer to you, his eyes on your lips.

"It's a date." He starts to lean but Jeanie meows loudly making both of you laugh.

"Okay I should get her home, the doors always open if you miss her by the way." You tell him and he thanks you. He stands in the parking lot with a smile, watching as you drive away. Wade sneaks up next to Logan, scratching behind his ear before Logan pushes his hand off in annoyance.

"What the fuck?!"

"Look at you boy! Did someone decide to take you home?" Wade asks in fake excitement.

"Shut up." Logan grumbles, rolling his eyes as he turns around to walk back to the shelter.

"Is someone grumpy? How about we get you a new collar and some treats huh boy?"

"I said shut the fuck up red." Logan snaps but Wade just smiles wider. He's been waiting for someone to adopt his friend. Wade was this close to posting an ad on craigslist.

Old man mutant available for adoption. Loves beer, hates everything else. Is potty trained.

Wade sees the smile Logan's trying to hide. He's been waiting for you guys to get together forever.

"Aww does someone need a belly rub?"

"Touch me and die asshole."

[satorusugurugurl]

Hiii :33 i literally read all ur works in one sitting omg ur amazing pookieee AND IT GOT ME THINKING-

What if reader and the JJK men had their bodies switched due to a curse??? Like- For example- Nanami Kentos body but readers mind/conscious and stuff like ykwim??? (same with readers body) Also i love how u write sukuna its so BEIFNSKFHKDD ARF👹👹 if u could add some smut and crack in it too pls🥹 tyty

(W/ nanamin toji sukuna n geto pls) ☺️☺️😚😚

JJK Men: Body Swap!!

Summary: Body swapping with your boyfriend? What could go wrong? 😃

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Sorcerer AU), Geto Suguru, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: smut, a little crack, body swapping, creampies, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 7,174

A/N: Hi Pookie!! hajsjjdjdthank-you so so much! I lo ove too! Modern Sukuna is one of my favorite boys to write for! I love him so much. (even though I know its OOC). Anyways thanks for being so patient with me. this last month has been insanely busy and I'm just now finding my creativity again!

Fushiguro Toji:

It was supposed to be a simple mission to take out a sorcerer. What you both didn’t know was that this sorcerer had a lot of curses to spirits protecting them. So when you both took him out, one of the spirits attacked you. And you weren't sure what happened. One second, you were standing back to back with your boyfriend. The next second, you were lying flat on your back, staring up at the sky.

While your head was spinning and you felt sick to your stomach, that meant you were alive and well, which was a success in your books. Sitting up, you grumbled out a groan as you blinked several spots away.

“Son of a fuckin’ bitch.” You said, but it wasn't you that said it? When your vision finally cleared, your eyes widened as you stared down at yourself. “I’m telling Shiu we need double the pay for that shit.” A string of vulgar words escaped your lips as you watched your body sit up.

“T-Toji?” You asked, finding your voice several octaves lower.

“Yeah, you good?” your head turned towards you, and that’s when your boyfriend finally seemed to notice something was wrong. Toji, I’ve been told you you were never good at hiding your facial reactions, and seeing a pure panic that crossed your features let you know he was right. “Oh, what the fuck?!”

“I-It’s me! I-I just—uhm—what the fuck happened?!”

After thoroughly researching the files you both refused to read, you discovered that this was one of the side effects of one of the curses you had taken out. It allowed the souls of its victims to switch with each other. The technique was only meant to last a few hours to a few days, which was a blessing, but your boyfriend didn’t seem to see it that way.

Although you both insisted that you could handle a few more jobs, Shiu couldn’t stand the way you were smiling sweetly at him with Toji’s face, and your face was glaring daggers at him from the rearview mirror. So he did the only logical thing he could think of. You were taking your asses back home until this side effect wore off.

Which was something you found yourself longing for. Because you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle being in the small confining space of the apartment with your boyfriend who is currently stuck in your body. You were trying to preoccupy your time, attempting to fix dinner with Toji’s sausage fingers, when you could hear your voice and make the most pitiful sounds in the living room.

“My fucking back hurts!” Toji yelled out, stretching his back out.

“Yeah?” you asked, “I told you I wasn’t fucking joking with you. Having breasts can weigh you down sometimes. Why the fuck do you think I ask for a back massage all the time?”

“Because you want my dick.”

“Hardy har asshole, now you know when I ask for a massage and being serious seventy-five percent of the time.”

You tried to focus on cutting onions but found it extremely difficult with the wines emanating from the living room. “Oww, babe, come give me a back massage. Your beautiful tits that I love are causing me immense pain.” Ignore him, you told yourself as you went back to cutting onions. If you just ignored his whining, everything would be okay. “Babe!” Your voice at you from across the apartment. “Baby!” Your fingers tightened around the handle of the knife you were holding, fighting the urge to use your newfound strength not to throw it at yourself. For just a moment, the tiniest millisecond, you thought maybe he had given up on calling you forward, allowing you to go back to cooking until you heard yourself cry out a wine that would make any toddler turn their head towards you.

“Oh my god!” You snapped, tossing the knife into the sink. “What?! What do you want me to do for you, Your Highness?!”

“Rub my back,” Toji grumbled as he shoved your face into the couch. “It hurts, and I know how good I am with my hands.”

With a sigh, you plopped down on the ground behind your body, using your boyfriend's hands to rub circles at the knots always in your back gently. Almost instantly, Toji let out a moan that was porn worthy. You could see him sink further into the couch; your fingers dug into the cushions as you continued to use Toji’s thumbs to rub circles into the sore muscles. Toji continued to whimper, squirming under your touch, pressing your thighs together as you worked your hands lower and lower.

And while it seemed like he was finding some relief in your touch, you found his pants a little too tight for comfort sounds that were resonating from your mouth.

“Fuuuck, that feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, babe, Fuuck.”

The sound of your moans seems to affect your boyfriend’s body. Allowing you to move on impulse, allowing his body to take the lead. “I bet I can make you feel better.” You whisper against the nape of your neck, relishing how your boyfriend recoiled back.

“Oh yeah~? And how do you plan on making me feel even better?”

Your way was fast and hard, much like the way Toji always gave it to you. You wasted no time, ripping your clothes off of your own body, slamming your lips against the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as his hands reached around, groping your breasts, just the way you liked it. Despite being in different bodies, neither of you were at all clumsy. As soon as you started ripping your clothes off, he told you he was tugging his shirt off his own body, turning to face, allowing you to pin him below you.

The kisses you shared were messy teeth clashing against each other as you both worked at your bottoms. Toji pulled your shorts and your underwear to the side. While you yanked his cock out of his sweats. Even though you were in different bodies, sex wasn’t any different. Toji just needed to feel you against him despite being inside your body, and the same for you.

You spit into your hand, rubbing it over your boyfriend's cock before you press it against your entrance. Never once did you break that kiss, the kiss that was full of raw need as if you both were high on an aphrodisiac when, in reality, you were high off of each other. Toji moaned against your lips as you pushed yourself inside of the tight, wet heat. Your breathing hitched at the strange new sensations washing over both of you.

“Oh my fuck,” you grumbled, pressing your lips against Toji’s. “I-It’s so tight and wet, oh, fuck.”

Toji wanted to laugh to make some crude comment about making sure you didn’t come too fast, but that was hard when he was being split open by his cock. “I-I feel s-so full.” He whispered nearly breathlessly against your lips.

“Does it hurt? Do you need a second?”

“No, I’m okay. Keep going, it feels good.”

Not needing to be told twice, you found yourself pulling out slowly before pushing back inside of your tight, wet walls. You both cried out, your head falling forward while Toji arched his back off the ground. You aren’t sure how long you could last like this. Hell, you weren’t even sure how Toji lasted as long as he did when he was inside of you. The man who was like a crazed sex god going for hours upon hours. While your boyfriend was wondering how the fuck you were able to take his cock like this every other night.

The pace you both set was messy and entirely out of rhythm. But despite not having any rhythm you were used to, it didn’t mean it didn’t feel good. Being able to lose control and lose yourself in the passion and sensations of just feeling good was hot. It was so hot that it had you both biting and sucking and clawing at each other. Your fingers dug into your hips while his nails scratched down your back as you both lost yourselves in the sensation of being with each other in a way you had never experienced before.

Being with each other in such a raw, more personal way allows you both, in a sense, to know how it feels for the other to know what to do, how to kiss, how to touch, and how to move against each other. This might come in handy for future sexual sessions for you. You knew that when you dug his nails into your upper back, your body trembled with pleasure. And Toji realized that when you angle your hips, a sure way to brush over your g-spot and cervix made your walls clench down so hard. He was afraid he was going to squirt all over you. Neither of you had ever expected it to happen, but both of you were excited that it had. Even if it meant neither of you was going to last very long.

“Oph fuck!” Toji cried out in your voice, his back arching. “B-Baby, I feel weird, like I need to pee!” Your boyfriend stared up at his face, which smirked sinisterly down at him.

“Yeah~? You gonna cum on my cock?” You asked, your voice deep and ragged. “Be good and cum for me.” You growled against his neck, smirking as you released your grip on his hip, rubbing circles over the swollen, sensitive clit.

“Ah! Fuck! Oooh fuck yes, gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, Toji~ come on!”

Toji screamed as he came so hard he squirted all over you, his legs shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. As he screamed and squirmed underneath you, you lost yourself in the way your walls tightened around your boyfriend‘s cock. Hugging him, milking him, trying to get him to come inside. Which, fortunately, was far too easy to do. You collapsed forward, fingers digging into your hips so hard you were pretty sure you were going to leave bruises much, much darker than your boyfriend ever left on you. It was just too much, tightening the screaming, the pleasure. There was no way you could’ve stopped yourself.

“C-Cumming! Ooh fuck!”

“Yeah~! Give it to me!”

You thrust fast and hard, pumping your pussy full of your boyfriend's cum. Not stopping until the head of his cock was oversensitive, and you weren’t sure if you could hold yourself up any longer. You grumbled, somehow collapsing onto your side as your boyfriend giggled, curling up against you.

“Fuck, I understand why you don’t like pulling out now.”

Toji, your nails down his chest. “Yeah, it feels really good, doesn’t it?” You hummed, wrapping your boyfriend's arms around your more petite frame, not entirely used to the size difference. “God, I gotta give it to ya’ you take my dick like a fucking champ. Don’t know how you do it.”

You smirked, pressing a quick kiss against his forehead. “I’m lucky enough to have a boyfriend to make sure I’m more than ready for his monster of a cock.” He snickered, pulling back to look at me. “And I know I already failed at foreplay, but I couldn’t help myself when you’re making such pretty sounds. I needed to hear more.”

“Yeah, remember that the next time you bitch that I don’t prep you enough after giving you a massage.”

“Toji, I fully understand what you mean, and it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“Good, now— are you ready for round two?”

“Round two? Already?”

Toji swang your body over his hips, rocking gently over your oversensitive cock. “Oh yeah, I thought you were fucking with me, but your sex drive is insatiable; hurry up, I’m ready to go.” Maybe this whole body swap thing did have its downsides.

Nanami Kento:

It took five seconds for Nanami to turn away from the curse you were fighting. The curse shot out a green goop that coated you and Nanami in that span. It took five more seconds for your husband to act, blinking away the goop before jumping back into action. It was only when he went to swing his blunt blade that he realized something was wrong. Instead of swinging his typical weapon, he tossed a talisman paper instead.

In that momentary confusion, you and Kento took out the curse before looking at each other. Imagine his surprise when he didn’t find your pretty face looking up at him but his own, looking down at him. The initial shock turned into panic as he watched a look of pure terror and confusion cross his face.

“My love, it’s all right.” The calm manner of speaking sounded so strange coming out of your mouth. “We have to remain calm.”

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Nanami sighed, running a hand down your face. “What are we gonna do? This is terrible.”

Your husband wasn’t sure if you consider this terrible. Both of you were safe, so that’s all that truly mattered. However, he also found himself strangely intrigued by the predicament. He found yourself then. Seeing the expressions on his face, the cute little corpse you had, like picking at your nails, nipping up your bottom, lip, or weighing, looked strange to him, but it also left him longing to see what other reactions he could drop out from you.

Unaware of your husband’s intentions, you try to remain calm. You continued gently rubbing your hands together as Shoko and Nanami looked over your body he was in.

“Any pain or discomfort?” You watched in horny silence as Nanami moved your shoulder again.

“A little pain in my, well, my wife’s shoulder.”

“Let’s get that taken care of.”

You slipped your top over your head alone, you to see your body. The blue lace bra you wore was on display as Shoko's eyes flowed through her hands over your shoulder. Staring at your skin shouldn’t have any effect on you. It was your body. You had seen yourself naked one million times, but Nanami’s body reacted differently. Its bare skin and breasts had his pants feeling much too tight.

“How’s that?” Shoko asked as she stepped away, watching Nanami rotate your shoulder with a sigh of approval.

“Much better, thank you, Shoko.”

“And you?”

When Shoko turned her attention to you, your hands immediately went to cover your crotch. An action that seem to go unnoticed by your best friend but was clearly noticed by your husband. Nanami hummed cocking an eyebrow in your direction, his eyes focusing on his crotch, seeing how the fabric of his cream-colored suit pants with straining.

You cleared your throat, looking away, “I-I’m fine! Totally fine, just eager to get home and wait this out!” You wanted to get away from her and her praying eyes because how embarrassing would that be for you to be popping a boner in your boyfriend’s body at the sight of your tits?

“Alright, sounds good to me. If you need me, I’m just a call away; go home and rest.”

You have never been more happy to hear the words go home and get some rest in your entire life. You held your boyfriend’s hands in front of his crotch before taking his suit jacket to keep it over the prominent tent in his pants. This was perfect. You would be able to get home without anyone noticing. There, you could take a cold shower and sleep this off.

But your boyfriend had another plan.

Before you both could make it down the hall, Nanami grabbed your wrist, tugging you into one of the spare classrooms. “Kento?” You asked, the unsure tone of your husband’s voice sounded foreign. “What are you—nngh!” Your body jolted forward as he slipped his hand down, rubbing at the throbbing erection straining in his pants.

“Shh, let’s make this quick. I can’t have you walking around with an erection like some teenage boy.”

“W-Wait h-here?! If we get caught, that would be worse! At least I can hide a boner with your jacket!?”

At that moment, your husband was undoing the zipper of his pants, allowing you to see the hunger in your own eyes. It was a look that spoke volumes, and you suddenly realized why your husband had told you several times in the past to control your facial reactions. It was a look you only gave him when you were unbearably horny.

“Oh my god, that’s it. That’s the look you always talk about.”

“Mhm,”

“You’re horny?!”

Instead of answering your question with words, he took your hand and slowly slipped it under the waistband of your pants. There, you could feel the wet slick that you were familiar with. Not skipping a beat, your muscle memory kicked in as your fingers began to trace circles over your clit, knowing just how you like to be touched.

“I saw how hard you were and couldn’t help myself. Your body is screaming you need me. I’m so wet, and I’m throbbing; I need you.”

Hearing those words leave your mouth made you realize how your husband felt when he was in your position. When you talk like that in public, it is hard to control yourself at that moment. You had no clue how Nanami managed to do it because you lost your composure the second he opened his mouth.

You slammed your lips against his as you lifted him, pinning him against the wall, his hands worked at the button of his trousers while you slid your panties to the side. Luckily, both of you were so aroused that there was no need for foreplay. Lips moved against each other as you pressed the head of your husband’s cock against your entrance, pushing inside without a second thought. You couldn’t care less if the door wasn’t locked, and you seriously doubted anyone would enter from the moans resonating from both of you.

All that mattered was fucking each other's brains out. Whether it was a factor from the curse or your undying love for each other, you allow yourselves to lose sight of your control. You needed him just as bad as he needed you. And you gave it to him. It’s hard and fast as he gave it to you after he had been pent up from work all day.

Nanami screamed, head rocking back against the wall as you thrust forward, slamming the head of his cock against your cervix over and over, making sure to go as deep as you possibly could. You wanted him to know how good he always left you feeling after a rough session. Your fingers dug into the fat of your hips as you nipped and sucked at your neck, drawing out more moans from him.

You were giving it, your all fucking your husband as hard as he did; Nanami was gripping onto his biceps, staring into your eyes as he took it all in. Every thrust that led to immense pleasure, every kiss, he took in everything you were doing to him. Because the second he was back in his own body, he would make sure he made you feel as good as you made him feel.

And that was a promise he intended to keep.

“Oh, my fuck—” You cried out softly, feeling your orgasm already approaching you. “You feel too good—”

“Yeah, I know that’s how you make me feel every time. But it’s—nngh! It’s—haaah!”

“Hard to not cum?” You answered for him, feeling your walls tightening around your husband’s cock. “Fuck—oooh fuck.”

“C-Cummi—oh m-my god!”

There was no warning, no further words expressed. All that you managed to do was lose yourselves in your orgasms. Nanami cried out tears, picking your eyes as your walls constricted and convulsed around his cock, drawing out your orgasm. You roared a moan loudly into Nanami’s ear as you came inside, fucking his come further inside of you, doing exactly what he did to you every night.

The classroom felt stuffy and hot and reeked of sex. But neither of you cared as you slowly slid to the ground, holding Nanami flush against your chest. You kissed each other deeply, only breaking apart to take a deep breath as all the air escaped your lungs.

“I didn’t think it was possible—” Nanami whispered in your voice, “but I fell deeper in love with you right now.”

“Ken—I love you so much.”

You never made it home that night. Instead, you went to one of the spare dorms and ravished each other all night. Both of you took notes on how exactly your body reacted to certain touches and kisses because the second you were back in your own bodies, you planned on using this newfound information to spice up your marriage even more.

Ryomen Sukuna (JJK Sorcerer AU):

“I hate this!” Sukuna barked out, pacing the floor back and forth. “Ugh!”

“Calm down.” You said from the couch, rubbing your hands down your face. “You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.”

When Sukuna turned to give you the dirtiest look in the world, you weren’t met with his tattooed face, but your own instead. “Have you stopped to look at what happened? I am in your body.” That was true. Your boyfriend was in your body, and you were currently inhabiting his body.

“So it’s not like you’ve never been inside me.” You waggled your eyebrows at him, only to win it go to hell look in return. “Okay, shit, sorry for joking, but you heard Shoko. The effects of this curse will only last a few hours.”

“A few hours too many.”

You weren’t sure if it was the testosterone right now feeling in your blood or the very common annoyance you had with your arrogant boyfriend at times. But for some ungodly reason, watching him, he back-and-forth with a scale on your face was irritating, ever-loving fuck out of you. He was acting like a brat over something neither of you could control.

It wasn’t even just the whole situation itself. Shit like this happened when you were a sorcerer. You got hit with different curses, injured, and usually were expected to live not that long of a life. You knew there was always a chance you wouldn’t come home from a mission. You both were hit by a curse, and you manage walked away with minor injuries and a mild side effect. That was something he should be happy about. But for some damn reason, this whole situation only made him angrier than usual.

“This is bullshit; if only my reverse technique worked shit like this.”

“Kuna! Seriously, what is your problem?”

He growled at you, which would usually put you back in your place when you’re back talking to him, but it seems that growl wasn’t as effective when it came from your body. Meaning you were pretty much unaffected by his tactic of intimidating you.

“I feel weak, okay?!”

“Weak?” You asked with a scoff. “You’re seriously calling me weak?”

“N-No! Fuck I mean, I don’t feel as strong as I normally do.” The more he tried to defend himself, the deeper the hole he dug. “I don’t have the power or technique I have mastered through the years. Instead, I am unfamiliar with your technique, and all I have to defend myself with are these stupid papers.” He scoffed, digging into one of the pouches attached to your belt and pulling out one of your talisman papers. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this fold origami?”

“You could shove it up your ass when you get back in your own body, and I hope you get a papercut when doing so.”

“No, I—you know how I see you.” He sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’re strong, and you’ve mastered your technique. But I don’t know how to do anything you do. I feel useless, and I’m not saying that you can’t hold your own in a fight you kick ass. I feel weak because I’m unaware of how to use your technique.”

There was a paying of understanding deep inside your chest. You knew what he meant because you felt the same way. There was an immense amount of power coursing through your veins, which could easily be used for evil instead of good. Having such a plethora of cursed energy made you feel as though you were a ticking time bomb, like if you were to sneeze, you would blow up a building.

So, instead of lecturing or giving him even more of a hard time, you draped a tattooed arm over your shoulder, pulling your boyfriend close to your side. “I get it, I guess.” You whispered, tilting your head back and staring up at the ceiling. “Being in your body makes me feel as though I’m destined to destroy things.” Sukuna snickered, turning to look up at you. “But just because I don’t have the same amount of cursed energy doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’m still strong in my ways.”

“Yeah? In what ways?”

“When I’m riding your cock. I feel all-powerful like nothing can stop me. Especially when you’re groaning, grabbing my hips, encouraging me to move faster.”

At that moment, you regretted the words that came from your mouth. Because all you heard was your boyfriend's understanding hum. A hum that led to his hands working at your pants.

“W-whoa, easy there, Kuna. What are you doing?”

“Taking control, to see just how powerful I’ll feel.”

There was no room for protest; once your boyfriend set his mind to something, he made sure to get it done. Even if that means stripping down, straddling your hips, and lowering himself awkwardly on his cock. Watching his wish contort with pleasure left you feeling as though you might be able to take the reins on this. It wasn’t as though your boyfriend would be able to take control, to ride cock like a pro.

But you seem to forget that this was your boyfriend, one of the strongest sorcerers of the modern age, just as strong as Gojo, if not more robust. The man was smart, and despite the facial tattoos and the muscles, he knew how to get shit done.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out as he slammed himself down onto his cock with a satisfied growl. “K-Kuna baby! P-Please slow down!”

His hand clamped firmly over your mouth, silencing your protests. “Shut up, I’m in control.” your voice sounded so dark and sultry, god it was so hot! “Just be good and sit still for me; let me use you.” you couldn’t argue with that, and with the way he slowly lifted himself off his cock, before slamming your body back down onto it, leaving you feeling pussy drunk.

“Fuck!”

You cried out, shaking as Sukuna rode you like there was no fucking tomorrow. “Oh fuck, fuuuuck!”

“Yeah~ I suddenly see why you like to be on top of a lot.” he dug your manicured nails into his shoulders, dragging them down over his chest. “From this position, I can do whatever I want to.” You couldn’t even ask what he planned on doing to you before his hips were rolling in circles and you were seeing stars. “Are You paying attention? This is how I want you to ride my cock from now on.”

“K-Kuna—Kuna!”

“I feel so powerful; seeing that pitiful look on my face should piss me off. But instead, it’s making me wanna draw out more.”

It was a combination of everything that was going on that sent you coming first. It was the way Sukuna was purring in your ear, so how he rolled your hips around his shaft, to the stinging burn left of your nails over his skin. It happens so fast, and your boyfriend's cock twitched inside of your walls as you came first. And it was unusual. Usually, you were the first to finish, but it never happened like this before. Your boyfriend being the first to fill you up rather than you soaking him with your release.

Sukuna wasn’t even upset about it. He swelled with a certain sense of pride at getting you off first and with a body he was unfamiliar with. That left him feeling so satisfied he could feel his ego swelling. Before he could brag over the fact that he was better than you, his head began to pound as his vision blurred. His grip on his own shoulders tightened. Sukuna thought he might black out for a moment before he was blinking the black spots out of his vision. When it cleared, he was no longer towering above you but underneath you.

Much to his relief, he looked up at your beautiful face instead of down at his own.

You barely had a second to process what was going on and how it happened before Sukuna’s strong hands and your hips were holding them tightly. Open your mouth to speak, but before any words had the chance to leave your mouth, your boyfriend was pulling you up the link of his cock before slamming you back down on him. You nearly came again just from that action in itself.

“N-Nngh! K-Kuna w-wa—ahh!���

He holds you up and back back down on his cock again and again and again. “I thought I told you to pay attention while riding you.” His hips thrust up into your dripping wet pussy. “I want you to do exactly what I did. Don’t keep me waiting; show me how strong you are, Kitten.”

Geto Suguru:

“So let me get this straight?” Satoru questioned while sitting across from you and your boyfriend. “You both took out the special-grade curse?”

“Yep.”

“Suguru turned it into a ball and gulped it down as he does.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then everything went black, and you both woke up like this?”

He motioned towards the bodies of his two friends, lifting his blindfold to watch as you knotted your head, which was your boyfriend’s head. Satoru got the story right; it was a simple mission, simple enough for both of you to handle. You could take out the curse with no issues, but when Suguru absorbed it, everything took a turn. Everything went dark, and the next second, you were sitting up in your boyfriend’s body with the most unpleasant taste in your mouth after swallowing the curse.

It was a shock initially, but weird things happened whenever your boyfriend absorbed a curse. That just came with the territory of a curse manipulator. Cursed spirits sometimes had different effects on his body and sometimes the body of those near him. Fortunately, you had been near him on this mission. Geto would have hated to be in Gojo’s body, so this was a win-win scenario.

“Yep, for the time being, we’re stuck like this.”

Gojo sat back in his chair, wincing at the situation, you both found yourselves in. “Shit, sorry about that, guys.” Suguru shook his head, stretching your arms above you.

“Eh, it could have been a lot worse.”

“ that’s true, but are you guys gonna—ya’ know?” Satoru jester to the two of you with his hands. “Use the opportunity to your advantage?”

Suguru and you looked at the white-haired man, blinking in confusion. “Advantage? Satoru, what are you even talking about?” you asked, running your fingers through your boyfriend's black hair.

“You know, I’ll get down and dirty?”

“What?!”

“Satoru~” Your voice purred out as Suegro shook her head. “Is sex the only thing on your mind?”

“Hey, it’s a genuine question. I’m just curious.”

Your boyfriend, who was irritated from the throbbing vein in your forehead. Having sex like this in his body hadn’t crossed your mind. When it initially happened, neither of you had been more concerned with making sure both you and Suguru were okay than about what happened. Besides that, sex wasn’t the only thing on your mind! The thought of doing it like this even occurred to you, and it wouldn’t have even crossed your mind, but thanks to manifest. It was out in the open, sticking out like a sore thumb.

You shifted, trying to listen to your boyfriend bickering back and forth with his best friend. Suddenly, you were aware of the throbbing inside your boyfriend, thankfully baggy pants. And you had the sudden urge to go home because the only thing you bring could focus on was how your boyfriend‘s dick was swelling. The last thing you wanted to do was pop a Boner in front of your mutual friend after he had just suggested hooking up with each other while in the opposite body.

If he found out how you felt, you wouldn't hear the end of his arrogant comments and encouragement.

Yeah, it was best to keep him out of your bedroom life. Especially when you weren’t sure if you wanted to take it that far. There was a burning desire deep in your stomach, one that had you itching to touch your body, to kiss your boyfriend, to succumb to the lust that was burning like a fire deep down inside of you. Was this how Suguru felt around you all the time? Or was it just part of the curse?

“Hey,” you looked up from the bed, watching as Suguru brushed your damp hair. “I think I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight.”

Suguru stopped turning his focus on you. “Why would you do that?” What could you even say? You were hard as a rock and wouldn't be able to control yourself? That you wanted him, but you didn't want to gross him out or make things even weirder?

“Well—I uhm—I—have a bit of a situation.”

“I know. You’re hard; you've been hard since we left campus.”

Your hands almost instinctively died towards the crotch, trying to cover the erection that was still throbbing angrily within the confines of the boxers. “H-How did you know?” Your boyfriend let out a giggle that sounded so strange coming out of your mouth.

“My pants may be baggy, but they aren’t that baggy.”

You felt yourself turn fifty shades of red as you groaned, covering your face in your hands. “Oh my god, you could tell?! Why didn't you say anything?” Another sweet laugh came across the room as you resisted the urge to summon Rainbow Dragon to eat you.

“I didn't want to embarrass you.”

“Yeah, well, I think I'm more embarrassed now. Can I manipulate your curses to eat me? To put me out of this misery?”

“Oh, stop, you're fine. I was only able to notice because I know my body.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better.”

“Well, it should be because you looked so fucking hot. Seeing you fight against those primal urges has your body reacting just as strongly.”

You perked up, watching as Suguru swayed your hips as he slowly approached you. “Is that so?” Suguru nodded, pulling your sleep shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor.

“Even though we're in different bodies, my soul is crying to be near yours.” He slipped your shorts down next, kicking them off to the side.

You slowly ran a hand down your boyfriend's stomach, grabbing his hard cock through his pants. "Fuck guess I got caught. But can you blame me? This is weird." Your hands slowly stoked his hard cock. "But also strangely arousing at the same time."

Seeing your hand stroking his cock had Geto’s eyes widening as he looked over his body before he was overtaken with the sudden urge to shove you down on the bed, immediately straddling his hips. "Don't mind if I do~"

You moaned, blushing up at Geto as he hummed softly. "O-Oh, holy fuck." You said, grabbing his hips. "Fuck is this what I look like to you?" you were in awe of your body. The curves, softness of your skin, and fuck, the fact your pussy was nearly touching his cock. Making it even harder, which seemed impossible.

“Mhm~” Suguru nodded; he rolled your bare hips as he ran his fingers over your hair. "It's really hot, isn't it?"

"Fuck yes, fuck look at my boobs." You said, reaching up and squeezing them. "The way they bounce, it’s so hypnotic."

Your boyfriend giggled, rocking your hips harder before reaching behind him, pulling his own cock from his pants with a moan. "Holy shit.”

"I know it's really hard," You whispered. "I-I holy fucking shit." His cock was so hard Suguru knew it had to be painful.

"I knew I was big, but Fuuck, this put it in a different perspective. Fuck, I'm going to put it inside of your pussy, Princess.” He hummed as he rolled your hips up and down your cock like you had done countless times before.

"Oh, you are?" You asked, licking your lips. "Nah, I don't think so; it’s time I give you a taste of your own medicine.” You growled out while flipping him over onto his side. "I'm going to put it in your pussy." You ground your hips against drenched folds with a snarl.

Suguru gasped, moaning as he felt the head of his cock rubbed against your pussy. Being the one to do it felt much different than being on the receiving end. But it still felt good regardless. He suddenly knew why you begged so pretty; he longed for more than teasing touches. He was about to start praying for more when his whole body seized up as you pressed the head against the tight ring of muscles of the entrance, fighting the need to shove it all in.

“Baby, please—!”

“Oooh, who's a needy slut?”

"Fuck, I am! I want you to fucking destroy me, please.” Suguru moaned, his head slowly rolling back against the pillows.

You smirked, running your tongue over your bottom lip. "Oooh, begging for me already, that’s so cute.” You slammed inside Suguru’s tight pussy. "Fuck—you're so tight~!!"

Suguru gasped before screaming out a moan while you thrust in and out. "F-Fuck yeah!! Just like that, oh god!!~ Princess!!” Hearing such pretty sounds only filled your desire, making you eager to move, to make him feel as good as he did for you.

"Fuck yeah~ what are you always saying? ‘You like me fucking your cunt slut?’”

“Yeah, I see why, fuck you feel so fucking good!!" Suguru cried out, his eyes rolling back. "Fuck! Princess!! Fuck, I'm your slut, god I want your cum so bad!!"

"Cum for me then~!" You commanded, reaching around and rubbing your clit in fast circles just as you knew your body liked it. "Cum all over my cock." Your thrusts were becoming erratic as you felt your balls tighten.

Suguru cried out, his head thrown back as he clenched hard on your cock. "Yesyes-Yes! Fuck, Princess!! Fuckfuckfuck-!!"

You followed immediately behind Suguru; your hips stuttered as you came hard, cum filling your pussy with thick white cum. "O-Oh fuck~!"

"H-Holy shit!!”

"Fuck, oh fuck." You panted roughly, looking down at Suguru, who was still trapped in your body. "That felt s-ao good."

"Holy hell, the cum feels so fucking good—"

“Yeah~ it makes you feel all nice and warm afterward.”

Your boyfriend moaned softly. "You know what feels even better? Fucking you with my cum~ I promise it feels fucking amazing give it a try."

You perked up at that, turning red, but you couldn't just take his word for it. You needed to feel it for yourself. So you slowly started thrusting back inside, moaning loudly.

"Oh god, you're fucking right, feels good.”

“I N-Nngh told you!”

You kissed Suguru eagerly, thrusting faster. Your boyfriend smiled softly, cupping your cheeks in his hands, kissing you deeply as he moaned into your mouth. You kissed back just as eagerly, stroking Suguru’s cheek. Your nails dug into his hips as you moved faster than you could think.

"F-Fuck, can't stop—! God, you feel too fucking good!"

Suguru moaned softly, smiling up at you. "F-Fuck~ I love you too, Princess, so cum in me again!”

You groaned, sucking his neck, leaving a trail of hickeys. "I will." You growled, nipping her earlobe. "I'm gonna keep cumming inside your pussy." your hip bucked, slamming against her cervix as spurts of hot cum filled Suguru, the sensation enough to throw him over the edge with you.

“Y-Yeah! Oooh fuck!” He cried out a moan, clawing at your back as he felt himself cum around your cock when you slammed deep into him. "C-Cumming!! Cumming Princess!!"

You gritted your teeth as you came inside your boyfriend again. That’s how you both were. You were just in sync with each other. Despite the fact, you were in each other’s bodies. You knew how to make the other field good; you wanted to keep going because you weren’t sure how long this side effect would last. But your lack of experience having a dick and poor stamina said otherwise.

"M’ sorry baby, I-I do-don't think I can go anymore. I can’t take it.” You feebly cried out before collapsing on top of your own body, winning a satisfied sigh from Suguru, who was underneath you.

“Honestly, I’m okay with that,” he said as he gulped air. “Fuck you’re probably gonna be sore in the morning. And I don’t wanna hear you complaining about it because this was your own doing.”

Your mind felt fuzzy as you just nodded your head nuzzling your boyfriend‘s face into the crook of your neck because you took in the afterglow and the rash of being near him in such an intimate way. Suguru hummed happily, running his fingers through your hair. He was honestly surprised you were able to go two rounds.

“Sleepy?” he asked softly, only receiving a hum in return. “Ooh—my sweet girl. Lay down for a minute, and let's cuddle before we take a shower.”

“Okay.” you finally could form coherent words as you lay down on your side, cupping your boyfriend's cheek. “Can I—”

“Yes, you can be the little spoon.” You weren’t sure how long the curse's effect would last, but as long as you were with each other, it didn’t matter. All that you cared about was coming home safely with Suguru and sleeping soundly in his arms, which made your dangerous job worth it.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[kirbmey]

— daddy kento headcanons !

💌: sfw & nsfw, not proofread

❤︎ sugardaddy!kento who’s way too busy and offline to understand the references you use in every other sentence, looking at you confused at the meaningless words.

— kento walked out your shared bedroom, making sure his tie was straight and hair put together, adjusting his glasses on his nose bridge. “wow, kennie, you ate and left no crumbs.” he turned his head to your sat figure, crossing his arms, biceps marked through the fabric of his white shirt. “what’s that supposed to mean, dear?” he questioned with a frown drawn on his handsome face, stepping closer to you. “it means that you slayed.” “wha—?” “you devoured, you delivered, you know? jeez…”

❤︎ sugardaddy!kento who’s very patient about you in every single way. if you are feeling insecure he’ll reassure you as much as you might need, if you are feeling clingy and cuddly he’ll make some time for you to spend together, if you saw something cute online he’ll give you his black card without hesitation. anything for his princess.

— you’ve been cuddled up in bed the whole day since kento left this morning until he came back at night. when the tall man entered the room it was oddly warm inside, dark and silent. you were hidden under the pile of blankets watching some stupid show on your phone at the minimum volume, brightness all the way down. it was hard for him to tell if you were even there.

“my dear? are you alright?” he almost whispered while approaching the lump you formed underneath the comforter, sitting next to you and caressing some hair strands away from your sad-looking face. there were dried tears along your cheeks, he could tell.

kento gave you time to respond, not pushing you too far as he patiently kept caressing your hair after pulling his tie away and buttoning his shirt down a bit. “not feeling well, daddy…” you simply muted after some minutes, turning off the phone and throwing it away weakly. you wouldn’t use that nickname on a daily basis, keeping it exclusive for intimacy or for when you didn’t felt like thinking on your own.

“hmm, and may i know what’s got you feeling like this, baby?” he asked again, careful and silently. in the meantime he pulled the covers down, bringing your body to his arms so he could lead you both to the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water. he had you sat down on the counter, your head against his chest while he herd you rant about the reasons why you didn’t wanna do anything that day. he listened, nodded and made you feel heard, valid. made your fillings valid.

after washing you out of the long lasting sadness he cooked you dinner after he put you on the couch surrounded by your favorite plushies and fuzziest blankets. that’s what you needed, daddy to coax you into moving on, daddy to take good care of you as you didn’t know how to do it sometimes.

❤︎ sugardaddy!kento who loves it when you ask for help to do anything. need help reaching that top shelf? he instantly has both his hands holding you up. need him to style your hair? he’s already pulling out all the gadgets he might require to have you looking like a princess. need help with homework? your boyfriend is smart enough to help you do all of it.

— it was early in the morning when kento woke up to the scent of coffee and toast as he walked towards the kitchen, naked chest and gray sweatpants hung low on is hips. you, on the other hand, were dressed in his shirt as you climbed up the counters, trying to reach for the jam resting on the highest shelf.

he looked at you endearingly from the doorway, taking place behind you seconds after so you wouldn’t fall back. one of his beefy arms wrapped around your body. at the same time, the other one grabbed the jar effortlessly, looking back down to give it to you, leaving a soft peck on your forehead before sipping some coffee.

❤︎ sugardaddy!kento who keeps every little gift you’ve made him. the small knickknacks, the cute drawings of you two, the paper flowers or the framed pictures you’ve given him throughout the months.

❤︎ sugardaddy!kento who gets genuinely offended if you choose to sit anywhere else but his lap. it’s your proclaimed sit, like a personal princess throne. he makes sure to wear the most expensive slacks for you to be comfortable, wrapping both arms around your body to rest his chin on your shoulder an keep on doing whatever he was up to. never forgetting to pepper you whole with love bites and kisses.

❤︎ sugardaddy!kento who’s a big biiiig fan of cockwarming, yup, cockwarming. he’s a busy businessman and there are times when he just has not a free minute to spend with you. he would even focus a lot more with your sweet cunt wrapped around him, the warmth of your body against his, and your soft occasional whimpers enough motivation to finish work quickly so he can fuck you properly.

❤︎ sugardaddy!kento who fucks you but also makes love to you every so often. the softness of the moment, his body on top of yours as your legs wrap around his hips to bring him even closer, his huge hands holding onto your tiny ones while he thrust deep and slowly against your gummy spot. he would whisper low praises against your mouth and pet your hair when you both reach your climax :c

 — when you came out of the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy robe you weren’t expecting your shared room to be lit dimly by the soft glow of vanilla candles, the plushies you had on the bed now carefully placed on the floor and your daddy sat down on the edge of the king-sized mattress.

kento still wore his suit and tie, meaning he just came back from the office. his hair slightly ruffled and his glasses resting on the bedside table, munching on one of your favorite sweets. “come here, angel, i stopped by your favorite bakery on my way home” he declared while patting a place next to him.

you skipped happily towards your lover, filling his sweet mouth with kisses while giggling. he was normally busy, yes, but he always made up for the lost moment. nanami never made you feel unloved or unattended.

things from there moved on slowly and naturally, finding yourself straddling his lap while you both ate the sweets, ranting about your day, and gossiping on the latest news between soft kisses.

soft kisses that eventually ended in a make-out session, slow and wet. his hands placed on your lower back, gripping the flesh as you squirmed on top of him, fidgeting with the buttons of his dressing shirt. the robe you wore already lost somewhere on the floor and damp hair cascading down your back.

if you tried to pull back to catch your breath he would latch his glistening lips to your sensitive nipples, moving your body effortlessly to lay you on the bed while marking your breasts, claiming you his as he settled between your soft thighs. “daddy— mmh…” you whined as he lowered said kisses down your navel, licking the silky skin on its way, gripping both your legs as he took place between them, rubbing the tip of his nose against your bundle of nerves, sniffing into your natural scent. “so sweet, aren’t you, honey? sweet and perfect for daddy?” “mmph, yes, yes !”

the wet muscle caressing your pussy would make it embarrassingly easy to cum with aid from his long and skilled fingers, becoming undone before you would’ve liked. for kento this was pure satisfaction, seeing you cry from pleasure was his pleasure and he got off to it, humpimg the bed without realizing it.

later, he’d come up to kiss you again while taking off his annoying shirt and slacks, toying with your neglected nipples between his thumbs as his tip poked your leaking hole. “so good for me, doll, always so patient for my arrival.” he whispered against your ear as he slowly bottomed out, placing a warm hand on your belly to feel himself inside you. “that’s right, relax for daddy, honey, you’re doing so good.” he confessed after groaning at your tightness, picking up a nice pace for you both to moan against each other’s lips.

you both would reach your highs together, your arms hugging his shoulders to keep him close and his hands gripping the fat of your thighs as he emptied himself inside of you, both your releases gushing over the sheets. kento hid his face in the crook of your neck while he hugged you back, smothering your now-dry hair without moving an inch. you, on the other hand, caress his nape lovingly, grabbing the duvet to cover you both as you slowly drift to sleep, not even bothering to clean yourselves.

that’s something daddy would take care of in the morning >_<

💌: i’m incapable of writing smut properly this is embarrassing :(

— masterlist

[oceanicwriting]

3 questions.

summary: theodore nott and you have always been rivals. dis you both decided that? no. the circumstances made you hate, and it only took one night away from all the pressures for you to see each other as you really are.

pairing(s): theodore nott x fem!reader

a/n: i thought this would be less serious, but it ended up being very serious... i hope you like it as much as i do! i genuinely think this is one of my favorites.

. . .

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at the ceiling of your room. you can hear the snoring and breathing of your roommates near your ears covered by the pillow. you had tried to sleep for hours, but you hadn't even managed to doze off on the soft mattress of the bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ in the middle of a sigh, you throw the sheets aside and dress the sweatshirt that hung on the desk chair. every time insomnia catches you in its clutches, you go to the same place, seeking shelter in the stars and the huge moon shining over the lake. you walk through the halls, careful not to get caught, arriving at the large astronomy tower minutes later.

ㅤㅤㅤ when your sleeping problems were present, you were always close to the final exams of the semester. between all the subjects you had to study, tutoring for classmates with problems in some subjects, recreational classes, and quidditch practices, it was impossible not to have serious problems controlling stress.

ㅤㅤㅤ and, on top of all that, there was him. theodore nott with his perfect grades. theodore nott with his scathing comments every time you receive a grade. theodore nott with that disinterested look that remains stuck in the back of your mind. it was impossible not to talk about him when the bubble of academic pressure was about to burst.

ㅤㅤㅤ you and theodore have known each other for years. your families are from the most renowned pureblood lines in the wizarding world, and even if they claimed to be good friends, they were always pushing their children's competition. you were only the ten in a long line of brothers, parents, uncles, or grandparents who had to compete. if theodore learned to play an instrument, you had to learn one. if theodore did a sport, you had to do one. if theodore did anything, you had to do the same.

ㅤㅤㅤ you were good at keeping up with your family's commands, or you were until this last year, where the weight of your effort began to hurt in every part of your body. your dream was to live off the art you could make with a frame and jars of paints, however, you knew that the honor of your name depended on the position you wanted to get in their precious company.

ㅤㅤㅤ you sigh, lighting a cigarette, as you rest on the railing.

ㅤㅤㅤ —don’t the stars look beautiful? —his voice makes your skin crawl, forcing you to turn around. he had arrived so silently that you were surprised to see him less than five steps away—. smoking on the astronomy tower? who would have thought?

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore has a half smile that makes you want to slam a fist into his face, and he thinks about how pathetic you looked in pajamas like that.

ㅤㅤㅤ —no more —you say, taking a drag of the cigarette and trying to walk away—. i’m out.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore laughs. the sound that escapes his lips does nothing but ignite a wave of confusion or rage that makes you freeze.

ㅤㅤㅤ —escaping. always escaping. —he approaches, leaning on the railing a few feet away from you—. we hate each other, i get it. do i hate that you're here when i want to be alone? a little. if you like coming here to think or some shit like that, i won't ask you to leave.

ㅤㅤㅤ you could have gone back to the bedroom with the intention of catching up on sleep in some other way, but there's a force that invites you to stay. is it because of the way his voice had challenged you? maybe. but in that place that had often accompanied you, were your greatest enemy, and yet, you remain four meters away.

ㅤㅤㅤ almost thirty minutes have passed, neither of you have said anything, and theodore had lit his own cigarette seconds after being on your third. you can notice that he smokes more slowly, holding it between his lips more delicately than your hurried hands. on the contrary, he sees that you smoke cigarettes after cigarettes with agonizing desperation.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why do you smoke?

ㅤㅤㅤ —we’re not doing this —you answer, dismissing the question instantly.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore looks at you, raising his eyebrows and settling himself against the railing so he can see you better.

ㅤㅤㅤ the questions are simple. did theodore hate you? probably. did you hate theodore? yes. had you decided to hate each other? no. it’s clear that neither of you, from all that life of competition, had had the courage to get to know the rival beyond the heavy comments. both of you at some vulnerable moment had thought about what would happen if one day you decided to meet each other. really meet each other.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why are you always in such a bad mood? don’t you think it eats at your soul?

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh, pulling a new cigarette out of your pocket, reluctant to speak. theodore takes the liberty of throwing a spark that hits your hand and makes the cigarette slip through your fingers to fall into nothingness.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you kidding me? —you question, looking at him with a frown. his smile has not left his lips at any moment, looking at you as if you were the most entertaining animal on the planet—. i thought we were going to pretend that neither of us were here.

ㅤㅤㅤ —it got boring having you here next to me without bothering you —he mumbles. you sigh, noticing that you have run out of things to smoke—. did you run out, stella?

ㅤㅤㅤ you don’t say anything at the nickname, avoiding theodore from noticing how irritated you are just minutes away from exchanging words. he digs into his pocket, extending his arm in your direction with a new cigarette between his fingers.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i can give you one of mine —he says.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, frowning and doubting his good faith.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what will you ask me in return?

ㅤㅤㅤ the truth is you had never seen him like this. most of the time together, you were as tense as two huge rocks full of hate, but now he looks so serene that it awakens an unknown interest inside you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —nothing, why would i want something? —he says, but as soon as you make the slightest attempt to approach him, he speaks again—. although yes, i want something. three questions or three answers. i ask one, and you ask another until we get to the third. isn’t that easy enough?

ㅤㅤㅤ questions? why would theodore nott want to ask you three questions? why is he looking for answers? and why were you thinking so hard to get one more cigarette? you knew that wanting a cigarette so desperately wasn't healthy. you were one hundred percent sure that you had a serious addiction problem and you wouldn't be able to change it for a long time.

ㅤㅤㅤ —okay.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore smiles, putting the cigarette in his pants pocket until it's time to give it to you. he looks up at the sky as if trying to think of his first question.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why do you smoke?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him with a raised eyebrow, causing a sarcastic smile to appear on his face. theodore had just discovered that the red on your cheeks increases with your obvious annoyance with him.

ㅤㅤㅤ —because i want to. —you both knew it was a lie, and you ignore his suggestive look, asking for more information—. my turn. shouldn’t you be with some girl on top of you?

ㅤㅤㅤ he takes a drag on his cigarette and looks in the direction of the darkened castle. there’s a hint of amusement in his gaze that makes you wonder what’s causing it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —nothing can assure you that i wasn’t with a woman before coming here. still, i’m impressed that’s the vision you have of me. a guy who sleeps with a new girl every weekend —he says, walking two steps closer to you—. honestly, it’s exam season, i’m not really interested in rolling around with other girls when i’m thinking about how to beat you.

ㅤㅤㅤ there’s a hint of remorse or sadness in his voice that repeats in the back of your mind. somehow, that makes your defenses go down, and you look at him carefully, taking advantage of his ignorance. how crazy would it be if right under his eyes there were three moles identical to the three marías?

ㅤㅤㅤ —why do you smoke? —the confusion in your gaze is obvious, but theodore just stays there—. yes, that's my second question.

ㅤㅤㅤ you don't know if it's because his eyes are chained to yours or the tranquility that his whole body emanates as he takes two more steps closer to you, but you feel a wave of peace that only manages to make a series of answers travel to your mind. there were so many reasons, so many pains or ideas that you wanted to turn off.

ㅤㅤㅤ —because i hope that it frees me. i don't dislike it, but i don't like it either —you admit, smiling in the middle of a sigh—. i smoke because there's always something that haunts me, and i never know how to stop it.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore can see how your gaze falls to the ground, feeling ashamed of what you had just said. could he understand it? yes, of course he did. after all, he was just like you in many ways and had used the same self-destruction techniques for a long time.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him. you know he's waiting for your second question, but you haven't thought about it, and you dedicate yourself to observing the sky. the twinkling stars from blue to yellow tones, immense moon that looks like a toenail and shooting stars that disappear the second they travel.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why are you here? —you whisper, turning to see how his eyes shine.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore takes two more steps in your direction. every time he gets closer, you find some detail that interests you. moles in areas you had never noticed, spots from the light that stand out with the contrast of their paleness and scars with stories.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i couldn't sleep.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so you weren’t with a girl? —you ask, feeling your heart race as the words slip out without any thought.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you just used up your last question. —you frown, he steps closer, standing two steps away—. you asked three questions. so, it’s my turn.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what? no, that’s not...

ㅤㅤㅤ —you have no right to ask another question.

ㅤㅤㅤ you try to say something else, but theodore has a new air that leaves you completely silent. it’s unbearable.

ㅤㅤㅤ —and no. the answer to your question is no. i’m curious about your insistence, but i’m not going to waste my last question —he says, throwing his whistle to the ground—. why are we still fighting battles that aren’t ours to fight?

ㅤㅤㅤ your eyelashes flutter rapidly in bewilderment. you’re envious of how calm and carefree he is. why couldn’t you be like him? why did he seem to stop trying so hard a long time ago? why were you still trying so hard to catch up to him?

ㅤㅤㅤ —i’ll be honest with you. you don’t look like the worst person on the planet. you always look perfect, your friends adore you, and if i asked anyone, they’d say you’re an angel. why are we still fighting over something as stupid as our grades?

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore keeps staring at you, and you can’t think straight. there’s no honest thought in your head about your hatred. really none. you didn’t hate the girls who made fun of you during freshman year or your strict parents or grandparents. you didn't hate chocolate as much as you don't like its sweetness, much less smoking when you hate the smoke inside your mouth. why do you hate him?

ㅤㅤㅤ —it's been so many years, theodore. don't you think it's foolish to look back at this point?

ㅤㅤㅤ he shakes his head, smiling softly and looking out at the horizon.

ㅤㅤㅤ —it would be foolish to never have asked you. i hated you when i was little because you were always one step ahead of me. —you shake your head because it's not how you remember it—. don't look at me like that. we both know that, even though i managed to beat you in all those shitty activities our parents forced us to do, you always make my world tremble.

ㅤㅤㅤ his gaze is fixed on the horizon, avoiding crossing glances with you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i don't know how not to hate you. i grew up living in your shadow for my own parents, theo. they told me over and over that anything i would do, you would do it better. do i hate you now? probably a little less than yesterday, but i feel like i have to keep winning.

ㅤㅤㅤ he laughs, turning to look at you from head to toe with a smile that you could classify in a list of beautiful things.

ㅤㅤㅤ there is a silence that embraces both of you. he is so close that, when you turn to draw the dark mountains with large shadows of trees, you can feel the heat that his body gives off. you would have wanted to escape. however, you do not move for a warmth that envelops you comfortingly. maybe you could bear it.

ㅤㅤㅤ after an hour, sleep begins to weigh on your eyelids, closing softly every now and then. then you stretch, catching theodore’s attention, who hadn’t said or moved a muscle in the entire time.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i think i’ll go to sleep —you say, walking awkwardly towards the exit.

ㅤㅤㅤ theodore nods his head and says—: i’ll stay a little longer.

ㅤㅤㅤ you nod, waving goodbye. on the short walk to the stairs you can only think about how nice the last hour had been. then, motivated by a force greater than your own conscience, you turn. theodore was already looking in your direction.

ㅤㅤㅤ —we should do this again —you whisper, gripping the stair railing—. next time, i’ll win.

ㅤㅤㅤ —it wasn’t a competition.

ㅤㅤㅤ —whatever you say.

ㅤㅤㅤ he watches you disappear, running down the stairs with a smile that's impossible to avoid. that little annoyance he had felt of you being in the place that always gives him loneliness disappeared, and he eagerly waits for it to happen again. besides, you had completely forgotten about the cigarette he was supposed to give you.

[greyowl-archives]

Thin Ice ~ A.H

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

wc: 4.7k

cw: kind of secret relationship that only the team is really aware of, agent!reader, Hotch being angry (my favorite gender), insecurity, a bit of angst if you squint, wife!reader, injury, blood, protective!Hotch

a/n: Second fic Rah! Woah this is longer than I thought. Soz for the delay guys, got caught up in some uni work but will try my best to put something out once a week. Don’t know how I feel bout this one if I’m being fr.

Summary: A retired agent comes back to assist with a case and immediately decides he has it out for you. Hotch is tempted to call him out for it but you assure him it’s fine. That is until the agent carries out an outrageous idea that puts your safety in jeopardy. Your husband leaves the agent with a bit more than just a warning.

“You’re here early” You heard Rossi comment as he walked into the conference room.

You gave a half hearted hum, not looking up from the files you were reading over. “early start to my day” you replied. “Managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour last night”

That wasn’t entirely untrue. You were out practically the moment you put the kids to bed and collapsed into yours. The reason you were up bright and early, however, wasn’t by a well timed bedtime but rather the fact that by the time it reached four in the morning and you’ve already woken up practically every hour before then, you decided to just get up and get a head start at the bureau.

Aaron was going to be on your ass today.

Your lack of text message from him this morning said as much. You knew he had felt you shifting restlessly around in the bed and there was no chance he didn’t wake up when you quietly slipped out a few hours later. And since nothing got past that man, you knew he would’ve seen the trashed remains of the not one, but two cups of coffee you hastily downed before your departure.

Any moment now, he was going to walk in, Wednesday today so he was going to have his grey suit on with the red tie. You liked that suit on him, it was one of your favorites, and he will definitely use that fact to his advantage. He’ll greet the team and just as he reaches his seat next to you, he’ll catch your eye with a fleeting look, one that with three years, approaching four of marriage behind you, didn’t need any words.

And speak of the devil, here he was.

You didn’t look up, didn’t have to to know it was him. You recognized the pace of his shoes against his stride and the faint sound of the briefcase buckles.

“Morning” you heard him greet the team as he walked in, his steps going louder as he approached your side of the table.

He placed his files on the table and within the next moment, your third cup of coffee was taken out of your hand and set aside.

“(Y/N)” he greeted, his voice low.

You finally tilted your head up to glance up at him and there it was, the hardness of his eyes, the slight furrow of his brow, the look.

It didn’t linger long before Aaron sat down, letting Penelope present the case.

Female abductor. Sexual sadist. Serial Murderer.

You wondered if seeing these things on file will ever get easier. You felt your stomach coil at the sight of the women, their faces lifeless and eyes forever frozen with terror. Big holes in the palms of their hands and in each of their feet like they were….

“Crucified?” Emily offered.

Spencer shook his head.

“No, the angle of the wounds doesn’t align with those of a crucification” he turned the file to the side a bit, his eyes scanning over the pictures. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning.

“They were hung” he finally said.

“Like from hooks? Like the ones at a butchers?” You asked, lifting your head up from the file.

Another shake of his head.

“No…pinned, like to a wall” Spencer straightened up, his brows raising like they always did before he dumped a bunch of information. “The evidence of torture is consistent with his anger and hatred for the women as well as the assault, however also consistent is his sexual sadism. After he’s done with them he’ll hang them up like trophies, just like hunters”

Yeah. It’ll never get easier.

“Alright, Garcia run through all the records of hunting rifles purchased within the area and cross that with mental health assessments” Aaron said.

“Right away sir”

“Before we leave-“ his voice stopped everyone in their tracks. “-Agent Carter, former associate director of the Criminal Investigations Unit, will be assisting us with the case today. He will be meeting us at the airport”

“Shouldn’t he be here with us?” Derek asked “This is a critical case, we should make sure he’s familiar with it”

“He’s good at what he does. You guys will need to trust him. Wheels up in an hour. Agent (L/N), a minute”

You lingered behind as you watched the rest of the team file out before letting out a breath.

“I told you Aaron, it’s fine” you said once the door closed.

“I’m having a hard time believing you”

He sat against the table, his arms crossing across his chest, his head tilting a bit so he could see your face better.

“What’s going on? Don’t lie to me”

His voice softened, taking on that gentle tone he always used with you, knowing it made you weak.

You sighed, your eyes dropping down to your fingers which were absentmindedly tracing over the table.

“I want to do better…be better” you said quietly. You saw him shift in your peripheral as he realized what this is about.

“You did what you thought was right”

“What I thought was right ended with a girl dead Aaron” you bit back.

It had been a slip in the case, the unsub was smarter than the team initially thought. In a spontaneous decision, you went in alone, only a gun on you to protect you.

For a moment, things were looking up despite the grim circumstances. You found the girl, got her untied, and started guiding her back to the exit with no altercation. That should’ve been your first warning. It was too easy. And then just as you were about to leave, he appeared out from behind a wall, a different girl in his arms, a gun pressed to her head.

What was going to be the biggest hit of your career quickly turned into a gamble. One life for another.

You hadn’t prepared to have to talk him down and you weren’t yet experienced enough to do it on a whim. So you took the shot.

But he must’ve seen it in your eyes because the girl would go down with him.

It had weighed on you heavily, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the team.

Aaron especially.

He normally hovered over you- always having you somewhere in his line of sight, trailing behind you where he could whether that was interrogations or to areas of interest, and when he couldn’t he’d make sure he knew where you were-but that protectiveness was just a byproduct of your marriage.

But after this incident he was just…everywhere all the time.

He wasn’t subtle about having you in his sight anymore and you could see him practically everywhere you turned…hovering. You weren’t allowed anywhere alone let alone barely even be alone.

He assured you that your slip up didn’t change your standing as an agent with him, but it seemed like everytime the team was called to go out on the field, he’d find some excuse to keep you on the sidelines.

“I just feel like you don’t trust me anymore” you said, looking back up at him.

He glanced away for a moment before letting out a breath.

“I’m taking the necessary precautions”

You watched as he stood back up to his feet, straightening his blazer out.

“I’ll see you in a bit”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Agent Carter was a short man with an even shorter patience.

He greets Aaron and Rossi with a firm handshake but barely regards the rest of you, save for a brief nod.

Now you’re in a sort of awkward corner with Aaron sitting next to you while Rossi and Carter sit across from you.

“She must be a talented one for you to choose her for the case” Carter said, nodding towards you.

You turned your gaze away from the window at his words, your brow furrowing a bit at the implications behind them.

“She’s a special agent not an intern” Aaron said curtly, not looking up from his file.

The agent seemed surprised at this, his brows quirking. “No kidding. How old even is she?”

This time, Aaron’s eyes flickered up at the agent, a hint on irritation passing through them.

“How about you ask her?”

“Twenty four” you said before the agent could open his mouth.

“That’s young”

“Does that matter?”

“I don’t know. Are you good?”

“Substantially”

Agent Carter nodded silently, his eyes raking over you for a brief moment.

“I hope you are right”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Your lips were cracking even before you got out of the airport.

Oro Valley Arizona, in the middle of May.

Just your luck to be stationed outside of the city in the big open desert, with no proper ac unit as far as the eye can see.

You squinted, your sunglasses not helping much with the sun that was beating down on you as you looked over the scene.

“And you searched this entire area?” You asked, looking up from where the latest body was found, now covered by a white sheet.

The sheriff nodded.

“Yes ma’am. Expanded our sweep to two miles in every direction. Found nothin’ helpful, not even shoe prints. This killer is stealthy”

You hummed, nodding your head.

“Yes he is”

You stepped back up to the main road where the team had set up under a white tent.

“What you got sunshine?” Derek asked as you joined them under the shade. You sighed. “Stealthy but predictable. You?”

Derek shook his head, looking over the scene photos again. “Same. No evidence. It’s like she just appeared here”

You frowned as you saw officers begin to head back into their cars. “What’s this about?”

“I told them to sweep the scene again, identify what car the guy used from any tracks left behind in the sand” Agent Carter said, not looking up from his files.

“The sheriff told me they checked, not even in just the surrounding area but two miles out, no tire tracks in the sand were found” you said. “There’s reason to believe he drove here but carried her to the dump spot on foot”

“Do I look like a damn idiot to you?” The agent suddenly asked. You blinked, not expecting the harsh tone.

“Sorry?”

Agent Carter sighed heavily, closing the file in his hand.

“Look kid, I get that you’re all young and excited to be involved in this case and stuff, but just let the professionals with more experience do their jobs alright?”

Any irritation you already suppressed from his earlier attitude came bubbling back in your chest and you felt heat rise into your cheeks.

“I think it is within everyone’s best interests not to waste our time chasing leads we don’t have” You bit back.

He let out a bitter laugh, his files dropping harshly onto the table in front of him as he turned towards you.

“Yeah you’d know a lot about best interests huh? Like how your best interest got that girl killed?”

That was a low blow.

You should’ve seen it coming, but it truly caught you by surprise and you visibly froze up.

Behind you, you heard Derek get up from his seat. “Watch it man”

The agent let out a scoff, his eyes flickering between you two. “I think you’re best sitting this one out agent” he muttered to you, turning back to his files.

You swallowed thickly, feeling as though all the moisture has been sucked out of your throat. Derek went to place a hand on your shoulder but you were already storming off, pushing past Aaron who was just walking up to join you guys.

“(Y/N)?” He called after you but you ignored him, the corners of your vision already blurring with tears as you made your way to the car.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

You watched the distant figures of your team working beneath the tents, some getting into cars and coming back while others walked about the area.

Aaron had glanced over in your direction a few times but you just turned away, plagued with a deep sense of shame.

You told him you were going to be fine.

This was going to be the case that proved to him that you could handle it. And yet here you were, sitting in time out like a child.

You imagine Derek had filled him in on a word or two hence why he hadn’t attempted to come over to you yet.

It was only when the evening had fallen were you waking up with him getting into the car. You lifted your head from where it was leaning against the window, wincing a bit at the soreness in your neck.

He didn’t say anything for a good moment, simply quietly starting the car before pulling out onto the main road.

You drove in silence until the scene disappeared into the darkness of the Arizona desert and then he spoke.

“I’ve heard what happened” he said, his voice soft.

You don’t respond.

“Are you alright?” He asks

You swallow again, your eyes fixing on the road ahead of you.

“Maybe he’s right Aaron, maybe I shouldn’t…I can’t…”

“Hey, stop that, we talked about this (Y/N)”

You let out a breath that sounded like a scoff.

“Did we?”

You saw him straighten up from the corner of your eye at your retort.

He sighed heavily, a sign he was getting worked up and he was keeping himself in check.

“(Y/N)” he repeated, his voice firmer. “I told you I am taking-“

“-the necessary precautions, honestly Aaron just give me a break” you said with an exasperated breath, your body slumping into your seat as your arms crossed over your chest, your head turning to the window. “I just want to go to the hotel” you murmured, your voice quiet and laced with defeat.

You felt Aaron look at you, practically could feel the way his brows furrowed before he returned his attention to the road.

Three hours later, after a quick dinner and much needed warm shower, the two of you were tucked into bed. Aaron, exhausted by the heat and from following sheriffs practically back and forth all day from the same three places, was already dozed off beside you, his breath leaving him in soft snores.

You were wide awake, turned onto your side as you watched him in the quiet darkness of the room, your eyes following the way the street lamp light traced along his features. You liked watching him in moments like these, away from the demand of work and where you can see him as the soft Aaron only get to see at home.

You sighed, slowly turning back onto your back before pushing yourself up, quietly slipping out of the bed. You turned back, making sure Aaron was still asleep and once you were satisfied, you reached for your sweater, pulling it over your head as you silently left the room.

You didn’t know where you were going, just wandering aimlessly through the brightly lit hallway.

Eventually, you stop at a small sitting area, sinking down into one of the brown leather armchairs, leaning back against it and allowing your eyes to close.

“Long night?”

The voice startles you and your head snaps up, your eyes fixing on the figure standing in front of you.

Agent Carter in all his glory, still dressed in his suit, stood a few paces away from you, a somewhat unreadable expression on his face.

“You can say that”

You say back.

Agent Carter sighs.

“Look” he says, circling the chair across from you and sitting down. “I know we got off on a bad start”

“Bad might be an understatement” you muttered.

“Right just…” he sighs again. “Listen as unbelievable as this sounds…I see myself a lot in you kid” he said.

You watch as his hands clasp together his thumbs tapping against each other. Your eyes flicker back up to his face, trying to decipher where he was going with this.

“I want to give you the opportunity of a lifetime that’ll elevate your career as an agent to standards that rival Hotchner and Rossi”

Against your better judgment, your curiosity peaked. “Go on”

A small grin graced his lips.

“We can have this unsub in handcuffs before anyone wakes up in the morning. Oh just imagine their faces, his face when he sees what you’ve managed. How does that sound?”

Good.

Really good in fact.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Maybe there’s a point to that tight, coiling feeling in your gut when you’re putting your life on the line.

You force yourself to breathe, to keep your head up and your arms relaxed at your sides as you walked through the quiet streets, your path only illuminated by the yellow streetlamps.

Your heels clicked steadily against the pavement, the hem of your short dress brushing against the skin of your thighs with each step.

This was risky. Dangerous. Stupid above all.

You were vaguely aware of the black car trailing behind you in the shadows, you could feel the watchful eyes of the sheriff and agent Carter on you, offering a minimal semblance of security as you baited yourself out.

Baited was put lightly.

You were handing yourself over to this killer on a silver platter and an apple in your mouth.

You closed your eyes for a moment, forcing your mind to focus, to relax. If you’re too tense, he won’t come.

A gust of wind breezed past you and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, goosebumps sweeping across your skin.

“A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be out here in the cold”

A car, a older Mercedes Benz, pulled up to a stop next to you. Your eyes fixed upon his face behind the wheel, barely visible in the shitty streetlight above you.

Younger, a lot younger than you’ve anticipated.

Anywhere from brown to sandy brown hair and if you squinted, you could make out the green of his eyes.

You stopped in your stride, making a purpose to exaggerate the swing of your hips as you turned to him, arching your back as you leaned against the car, ducking your head to see him better.

“What would you know what a pretty girl like me should and shouldn’t do?” You asked, a sweet, flirtatious smile on your lips.

He chuckled lowly, leaning towards you a bit.

“How about you get in this car and I’ll show you pretty girl”

Your eyes subtly darted around, anticipating for the black car to come out of the shadows to make the arrest, but it never did.

You bit your lip, a deep coil of dread tightening in your stomach at the realization of what you had to do. A thick swallow and strained smile later, you were buckling yourself into the passenger seat as the car steadily pulled off the curb, your gaze just barely catching the sight of the black car emerging and turning away in the direction opposite of you.

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

Your eyes fluttered open, your vision darkened and blurred, an insistent high pitched ringing in your ears making it hard to focus on anything else.

A sharp pain pulsed at the back of your head, making you squint against the light steadily beaming over you in the otherwise dim room.

“There’s my pretty girl”

A rough hand gently caressed your hair and a cold plunge went down your spine as the guy came into view.

He stopped in front of you, leaning down with his hands pressing against your forearms and you could smell the acrid sweet smoke that lingered from his cigarettes.

He tilted his head, his face morphing into a sickly mocking expression.

“Aww dont be like that. You’re the most beautiful piece I’ll have in my gallery”

You didn’t want to show weakness, give him the satisfaction of your fear, but the reality that this really might be it, that you’ll become another victim to your case, was starting to set in.

He let go off your hair and your head dropped.

You heard him straighten up and saw him step away to a nearby table, coming back with a small blade that glinted as it appeared in your line of vision.

You closed your eyes again as you felt the cool metal slide beneath the ropes binding your wrists.

You tried to imagine it was him.

Aaron.

Tried to imagine he was kneeling in front of you, one of those gentle chuckles that you loved so much rumbling in his chest as he worked to get the satin rope off your wrists.

“How’d you even manage to do this sweetheart?”

He’d asked, shaking his head in amusement. You could’ve only blushed and looked away, a shy smile on your lips. It was his birthday and you had wanted to surprise him when he got home from work that night, except you got yourself tangled trying to wrap yourself up for him and ended up stuck on your bed for him to discover.

Your wrists would be freed and he’d help you up to your feet. “Don’t be shy, angel” he murmured against your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and then to the corner of your mouth. You could smell his cologne, diluted by the smell of paper and coffee from the office, his aftershave against his skin, wood…

Blood

Your eyes opened again as your head was yanked back by your hair, landing upon a canvas of wood.

“You’ll look so pretty up there. Prettier than any painting ever painted”

Your stomach turned as you looked upon it, the blood that had saturated into the wood, lighter in areas where the bodies were pressed against it, the splintering where the women had struggled in their last moments.

“Stay still. You don’t want this to hurt more than it has too”

A click of a gun.

“Let her go”

Aaron’s voice startled you more than the situation you were in.

You were promptly yanked around and the blade of a knife was pressed right against your throat as you were pulled back against the guy behind you.

There you could see him, standing off just where the light could reach, his gun drawn and angled steadily in front of him. His hair was soft and beneath his vest, you could make out the familiar white shirt that he slept in that night.

Maybe you were imagining things.

Maybe you were already hanging from the canvas in that foreboding room, your neurons firing the last image of him in their dying moments.

“There you are agent, just in time for the show”

“There will be no show”

“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong”

You felt the knife press harder into your skin, breaking it ever so slightly. Aaron’s eyes met yours for a moment.

Leave.

Don’t watch me die.

And then, he lowered his gun.

You watched as he placed it down on the table beside him, the sound emitting around the room.

You saw his palms raising in the light, a white flag amongst the battle.

Your body slumped a bit with relief.

This didn’t have to turn worse than it already was.

You opened your eyes again to him only to see he wasn’t looking at you.

His eyes were fixed on something behind you.

In fragments of a second, the weight of the body behind you was sliding down and crumpling to the floor, the blade of the knife falling from your throat and clattering to the ground at your feet.

You hadn’t even processed the sound of a gun going off until Aaron was in front of you, his strong arms enveloping you as your knees buckled.

“There you go, I’ve got you. It’s ok, you’re ok” he murmured, his lips brushing against your head.

The tape was pulled from your lips and you let out a weak breath, your throat seeming to burn from the thick air.

“Aaron” you exhaled against him, your hands shakily wrapped around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair, holding him, feeling him.

“Aaron I’m sorry I just wanted to-“ you babbled, the damns breaking as tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Shh we’ll talk about this later. Let’s get you out of here”

⋆⋅ ⋅☆⋅ ⋅⋆

An ambulance was already outside waiting for you on the side of the road.

The air was frigid and the surrounding area was dark, miles of empty desert spanning in every direction around you.

You sat quietly on the back edge of the vehicle, wrapped in Aaron’s jacket as the paramedics treated the wounds around your wrists and Aaron sat next to you, holding an ice pack to your head.

The rest of the team lingered around you, keeping enough distance for you and Aaron to have some space.

“Hey Morgan, take over for a minute” you heard Aaron say as he stood. You lifted your head up at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“I’ll be right back sweetheart” he said, pressing a kiss to your head as Derek took his place next to you.

You watched Aaron walk up to the car that had pulled up a few paces ahead. “Who’s that?” You asked.

“A man who’s place I would not want to be in right now” Derek answered.

The car door opened and out stepped Agent Carter. You saw his mouth barely open before Aaron was on him.

“Who gave you the order?” Aaron demanded, his hands grasping at the lapels of the other man’s blazer and pushing him back against the car.

Agent Carter swallowed before he spoke.

“I assure you we made the plan with as much caution-“

Aaron cut him off, his grip tightening around the fabric.

“Caution? My agent gets swept up in five seconds right under your nose? Was that part of the ‘cautiously arranged’ plan?”

“My plan-” agent Carter said, pushing Aaron off him”-led us to him didn’t it?”

There was a heavy moment of silence and you could see Aaron’s jaw clench before he spoke again.

“You had no authority to carry out this plan without my knowledge. You evaded my authority as unit chief and jeopardized the safety and life of one of my agents”

Agent Carter sighed. “It won’t happen again alright?”

“It won’t because you are no longer an agent” Aaron said. “The attorney general will be informed of your actions and you will be placed under investigation for obstruction of justice and the deliberate endangerment to safety of a federal agent” he held out his hand, an expectant look in his eyes.

You saw the other man’s eyes flicker down to his hand and then back up to his face, hesitating, hoping Aaron would let down. But he didn’t. Aaron kept his stance firm and eventually, with a sigh, Jamie Carter handed over his badge and gun.

“Strauss will be waiting for you when we land back in Quantico” Aaron said. He gave a brief nod to JJ and Rossi who escorted Carter to one of the nearby federal cars.

Aaron walked back to you, glancing down at the badge in his hand for a moment before tucking it away into his pocket. He smiled lightly as he approached, thanking Derek as he retook his place beside you.

You sighed, looking up at him. “I’m sorry again for everything Aaron” you said quietly. “I should’ve discussed the plan with you beforehand”

He hummed and then was silent for a moment.

“When we get back, Penelope will have your new badge. I just got the confirmation that it was validated”

You frown in confusion as you watch him stand once again. “New badge?”

Aaron smiled, his dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Well, i think it’d be impractical for an SSA to walk around with a regular special agent badge, don’t you think?”

GIF from Pinterest

Headers from @cafekitsune

[yua0ra]

𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐬 𝐐𝐮𝐨

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

WARNINGS: stalker!mattheo x slytherin!fem!reader, creepy mattheo, stealing, invasion of space, slightly dark, obsessed mattheo, SFW, not proofread, english is not my first language. miscellaneous ☆

SUMMARY: Mattheo just can’t help it… he aches for you, he feels for you, he wants you. However, the only way to be able to tame those feelings is by getting a hold of you, whether thats physically or mentally, he doesn’t care.

WC: 3.1K AN: I would love to turn this into a series, what do you think?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

It’s wrong. So wrong. He knows it deep down, but his obsession overrides his logic. He wants to know everything about you—what makes you laugh, what keeps you up at night, what scents you love most.

The moment his fingers graze the cool, worn wood of your dormitory door, his heart pounds so loudly he swears someone must hear it. He pauses, forehead resting against the door for a brief second, his chest heaving as he struggles to calm his racing breath. That faint trace of your scent lingers in the air—soft, warm, and unmistakably you—and it pulls him in, headfirst, deeper than ever.

He tells himself, like he does every time, that this is the last time. Mattheo convinces himself that he’ll walk away, forget the weight of your presence, the pull of his obsession. But the darkness inside him whispers otherwise. His fingers tighten around the handle, and before he can stop himself, the door clicks open.

Stepping inside, Mattheo freezes, letting the stillness of your private room settle over him like a cloak. It’s quiet here, safe, untouched by the chaos of the castle beyond. Everything about this space is yours.

Intoxicating.

His eyes scan the room, drinking in every detail.

Your desk catches his attention first, a small chaotic corner that somehow still feels meticulously yours. A half-written essay sits beneath an open inkpot, surrounded by scattered quills and parchment. Books, their spines cracked from use, are piled carelessly to the side. He steps closer, his fingers trailing along the edge of the desk. The faint scent of parchment and ink mingles with the soft, citric notes of your perfume, and his breath increases uncontrollably, letting it settle inside him like a drug.

He stands, his jaw tight as he clenches his fists to stop himself from doing something even worse than curiously examine—something he couldn’t come back from. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t even think like this. But your existence has thrown him into chaos, and he’s never been one to walk away from destruction.

I mean, he’s crossing boundaries that would shatter any trust you had in him if you found out. But he’s far past the point of caring.

Your wardrobe catches his attention next. He hesitates, his hand hovering over the handle as his breath quickens. He knows he shouldn’t. He knows this is a line he can’t uncross, but the temptation is suffocating. Slowly, he pulls it open.

Inside, your clothes hang neatly in a row, each piece carrying your personality. His eyes roam over them, lingering too long. His fingers ghost over the fabric of your favorite jumper, the one he’s seen you wear on lazy mornings in the common room. He takes it off the hanger, holds it to his face, and inhales deeply, his jaw clenching as the scent overwhelms him. It’s intoxicating, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, letting himself imagine you wearing it, imagine you here, just inches away.

Moving to the drawers his hands make it over the more delicate tops. The ones you wear strictly with straight-leg jeans. The ones that you wear without a bra, because it makes you uncomfortable. The ones where every time he looks at you, he feels dizzy and restless, wishing you would wear them only for him.

A glint of something on your nightstand catches his eye, pulling him out of the haze. He sets the tops down carefully, almost reverently, and crosses the room. There, resting beside a half-finished book, is a small vial of your perfume. His fingers wrap around it, and he brings it to his nose, pressing the glass against his lips before admiring the delicate bottle. He feels like a thief, stealing pieces of you, but the thrill of it—the wrongness of it—makes his pulse race.

Mattheo gives up on the compulsion.

His fingers trail over the smooth surface, brushing against a stray quill and a crumpled scrap of parchment. The parchment bears faint traces of your delicate strokes, loops and lines that seem as intimate as a whisper. He picks it up and smooths it between his fingers, turning it over as if it will reveal some hidden secret about you. It doesn’t—it’s just a small sketch of a thestral, but that doesn’t stop him from folding it neatly and slipping it into the pocket of his blazer.

He turns to your bed, the final corner of your private sanctuary. The sheets are slightly rumpled, as if you’d been curled up there not long ago, and the thought sends a jolt of something crazy through him. He kneels beside the bed, his breathing shallow, as his fingers trail over the edge of the blanket, feeling the softness.

The air around the bed feels heavier somehow, like it holds the lingering warmth of you. His hand tightens on the fabric as he imagines you here—how you must curl up, how your head must rest against the pillow, the way you must look when you drift off to sleep, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through his mind right now.

Mattheo leans forward, his forehead nearly brushing the mattress, his dark curls falling into his eyes. The faintest trace of you clings to the fabric, subtle but unmistakable. It’s enough to make his pulse quicken, his chest rising and falling with shallow, unsteady breaths. He can’t stop himself from pressing his face into the blanket, letting the scent fill his senses. It’s maddeningly intimate, a glimpse into a world he knows he shouldn’t have access to, and yet here he is.

He stays like that for a moment, his hands clutching the blanket, his body rigid with the weight of his obsession. The logical part of him—the part that knows this is crossing every line imaginable—is drowned out by the darker part, the part that craves this closeness.

Sitting back on his heels, Mattheo’s eyes drift to the pillow, slightly indented where your head must have rested. His throat tightens, and before he knows it, he reaches out, his fingers brushing the edge of the pillowcase. It feels like touching a piece of you, a physical connection to the person who consumes his every waking thought.

Then he feels it.

The small leather-bound book lies partially hidden beneath loose parchment and messy sheets as if you’d meant to keep it safe but couldn’t bring yourself to tuck it too far away. Mattheo stops breathing for a moment, his gaze locked on it. He knows what it is. He’s seen you writing in it before, your brow furrowed in concentration, your quill moving furiously as though the words were spilling out faster than you could capture them.

Your poetry book.

Mattheo swallows hard, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches for it. His fingers brush against the cover, the leather soft and worn beneath his touch. He knows this is wrong—this is the most personal thing you own, a piece of your soul laid bare on paper—but the thought only fuels the fire burning inside him. He can’t stop himself.

Sliding the book out from under the parchment, he sinks further into your bed, cradling it in his hands. The cover creaks softly as he opens it, his eyes scanning the first page. Your handwriting is familiar—messy, rushed in places, but beautiful. The words feel alive, raw, like they’ve been ripped straight from your heart.

The first poem stops him in his tracks. It’s about longing—aching for something you can’t have, feeling isolated in a world that doesn’t quite fit. It’s so vulnerable, so real, that it makes his chest tighten painfully. His thumb grazes the corner of the page as he reads it again, slower this time, savoring every word.

Mattheo’s breathing is shallow now, his mind spinning as he turns to the next page, then the next. Every poem is a window into your soul, revealing pieces of you no one else gets to see. He feels like a thief, but that darker part of him—the part that craves you so desperately—feels something else entirely. Possession.

This is more than just words on a page. This is you. Your dreams, your fears, your quiet moments of joy and despair. Every line draws him deeper into your world, and he knows he’s crossing a line he can never come back from.

He forces himself to stop, his fingers tightening around the edges of the book. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t even be here. But the thought of leaving it behind, of walking away from this piece of you, is unbearable.

Standing abruptly, Mattheo clutches the book to his chest, his jaw clenched as he makes his decision. He can’t leave it. Not now. Not after this.

For a moment, he wonders what you’d do if you walked in right now. Would you scream? Would you demand answers? Would you even begin to understand the depths of his need for you? The thought makes him shiver, a twisted combination of fear and desire coursing through him.

He pushes himself up from the welcoming mattress, the room spinning slightly as he forces himself to step back from the bed. His gaze lingers on it for a moment longer, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It’s too much. This room, this space, this proximity to you—it’s all too much.

But as he glances down at the poetry book clutched in his hand, he feels the smallest flicker of satisfaction. He has this. He has a piece of you. And as he slips out of your room, the blanket’s softness and your scent still imprinted in his mind, he knows he’ll return.

He always does.

Mattheo’s heart pounds as he walks down the quiet corridors, each step feeling heavier than the last. His mind races with the memory of your room, can’t wait to get to his own.

When he reaches his dorm, he pauses at the door, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He’s alone now—completely alone, save for the things he’s brought with him.

The door creaks open slowly, and Mattheo steps inside. The room is dimly lit, shadows curling in the corners. His gaze falls on the small desk by the window, cluttered with papers and books.

His hands tremble as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the scrap of parchment you’d drawn on. He unfolds it slowly, as though it’s fragile, precious, a window into your world that he can’t let go of. His eyes scan the animal, though e meaning is incomprehensible to him now—he’s too caught up in the sensation of touching something that’s been close to you.

He sits at the edge of the bed, staring down at the bottle once again, his fingers dancing over it as if it’s a lifeline. He lifts it, unscrewing the cap carefully, and holds it to his nose, inhaling deeply. Your scent wraps around him, pulls him deeper into the haze.

His body feels too hot, too tight, like he’s on the edge of something he can’t undo. He pulls a curl of hair to his lips, thinking, feeling the strange thrill of it all—of possessing something that isn’t his. He thinks of what it would be like to see you walk into this very room, to watch you notice the way the room feels different, like it’s already been touched by you, even if you haven’t stepped foot inside. He shudders at the thought, his mind unraveling as he pictures your face, the way you would look at him if you knew what he was doing.

His hand grips the bottle tighter, his breath shallow. The craving gnaws at him, an ache he can’t soothe. With a shaking hand, he presses the nozzle and sprays your scent across his bed. A mist of it settles over the sheets, sinking into the fabric, clinging to his pillows. He moves to his blanket, his motions erratic but deliberate, until the air around him is saturated with you.

The scent invades his senses, filling the room, wrapping around him like an invisible tether. It isn’t enough, though. It never is. He sprays more, this time over his pajamas, soaking the thin fabric until he’s enveloped in the faint, exiting trace of you.

Mattheo lowers the bottle, his chest heaving as he takes it all in. His room feels different now, transformed. It’s no longer just his space—it’s yours, or at least, a warped imitation of it. He falls onto the bed, burying his face in the silky pillow. His hands clutch at the sheets, his fingers curling into the fabric as though they’re grasping for something tangible, something real.

He closes his eyes, his mind painting vivid images of you. He imagines you lying here instead of him, the scent wrapping around you as naturally as it clings to him now. He imagines how your hair would splay across the pillow, how your breathing would slow as you drifted to sleep. The image is so vivid it almost feels real, but the emptiness beside him quickly shatters the illusion.

The need claws at him, relentless and unyielding. He presses his face deeper into the pillow, inhaling again, the scent triggering that dark, possessive part of him. It soothes him and drives him mad all at once, fueling his obsession.

“I need you,” he whispers into the stillness, his voice raw, barely audible. The words hang in the air, unanswered.

Mattheo lies there for hours, unable to move, unwilling to let go of this fragile, stolen piece of you. The scent is fading now, sinking into the room, becoming part of it, part of him. And though he knows this moment won’t last, he clings to it, desperate to keep this connection alive, no matter how twisted it may be.

- ★、

Meanwhile, you make your way back to your dorm, all you can think about is sinking into your bed and letting the quiet of your private space wash over you. The familiar creak of the stairs under your feet is oddly comforting, a reminder that you’re almost there.

When you reach your door, you pause, hand hovering over the handle. For a moment, an inexplicable unease settles over you, like a faint whisper brushing the back of your mind. You glance around the corridor, but it’s empty—just as it always is this time of day. Shaking off the strange feeling, you twist the handle and step inside.

The room greets you like it always does, with the same quiet stillness you’ve come to cherish. Your desk is cluttered but familiar, your bed slightly unmade, your books and trinkets scattered in the way only you understand. Everything seems… normal.

And yet, something feels off.

You stand there for a moment, your bag still slung over your shoulder, scanning the room without really knowing why. The air feels heavier, thicker somehow, as if the walls themselves are holding their breath. You brush the thought aside and step further in, dropping your bag onto the chair by the desk.

The scent of your perfume lingers faintly in the air, but it’s stronger than usual, as if you’d just sprayed it moments ago. You chalk it up to your imagination, or maybe you’d applied a bit too much this morning. Either way, it’s not enough to hold your attention for long.

Still, as you move through the room, that strange unease lingers, gnawing at the edges of your mind. You shake your head, trying to laugh it off. “Relax babe… you’re just tired,” you mutter to yourself, the sound of your voice oddly reassuring in the quiet space.

You quickly change into your pijamas sinking onto your bed, letting out a sigh as you get comfortable. But as you lay back, staring up at the ceiling, a strange thought crosses your mind, unbidden and unsettling.

It feels like someone’s been here.

You try to dismiss it, closing your eyes and letting out a slow breath. It’s just the exhaustion talking, you tell yourself. Just your mind playing tricks on you after a long day.

And then—something catches your eye.

Your nightstand. It’s just across the room, simple and familiar, the little lamp on top casting soft shadows across the wood. But now, something feels different about it. The surface seems emptier than it should be.

You blink, leaning forward slightly. Your bottle of perfume—the one you’ve had for months, the expensive one, the one you treat like a small treasure—isn’t there.

The realization hits you in a jolt. You sit up quickly, a cold shiver running down your spine as you stare at the empty spot where the bottle should be. No, you didn’t misplace it. You remember exactly where you left it, right there, beside your lamp, the last thing you’d seen before heading out this morning.

Your mind races, a swirl of disbelief and confusion. Did I move it? No. You’re certain you didn’t.

You get up, your legs feeling heavy as you approach the nightstand, your pulse quickening. You touch the spot where the bottle used to sit, half-expecting to feel the familiar glass beneath your fingers, but there’s nothing. It’s as if it vanished into thin air.

The more you think about it, the more impossible it seems. The perfume isn’t just any bottle—it was a gift, something ridiculously expensive that you’d saved up for months to buy. It’s not the kind of thing you’d lose or forget. And yet, there it is—gone.

A cold lump forms in your throat as the unease from earlier comes flooding back, stronger now, twisting into something darker, more pressing. Your heart beats faster as your gaze flits to the rest of the room. The sense that something is out of place, something you can’t quite put your finger on, tightens around you like a vice.

You stand there, frozen, unsure of what to do. The silence of the room feels suffocating now, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. Every part of you wants to believe you’re just imagining things, that it’s all in your head. But the missing perfume—that’s real.

Suddenly, a thought strikes you like a punch to the gut. Did someone take it?

The thought is absurd, impossible, but the longer you stand there, the more real it feels. Someone’s been in your room. Someone’s touched your things. And the creeping feeling that something—someone—is watching you tightens its grip.

You step back, the weight of the room closing in on you. You don’t know who or why, but one thing is clear: this isn’t just a weird feeling anymore. Something’s happening. Something that makes you feel, for the first time, truly unsafe in your own space.

Your eyes flick to the door, but it feels miles away. Every nerve in your body screams at you to do something—to search, to leave, to figure out what’s happening. But you stand there, rooted to the spot, as the unsettling truth sinks in: someone has been here, and it’s not just the perfume they’ve taken.

It’s you. Your privacy. Your space. Your peace. And now, it’s all slipping through your fingers.

[witherby]

I need anything and everything of jason being Mouses favourite. (The Littlest Wayne AU)

They get a snack/ meal - Jay Jay has to take a bite first before they eat

They have a new toy- Jay Jay has to see and play

I’ll take anything you can think of.

I am obsessed. The AU is amazing

-🤍💜

Say less! I love Jason Todd and so does Flittermouse! By the way the word count is 3100+ lol oops

The Littlest Wayne: Fist Bumps

Masterlist is Here!

"This is stupid."

"Shut up, you're just mad you won't get picked."

Tim kicks Damian in the shin, who retaliates by kicking him back much, much harder in the ankle. Tim cries out, about to start a fight, but one stern look from Alfred settles them both down. They continue to sit beside each other without fuss, and soon everyone is all neatly lined in a row while Hal uses his ring to keep you safely suspended in a bubble, playing with a little rattle.

"Alright," Dick says excitedly, "we're going over the rules one more time! No jingling any shiny objects for Flitty to chase after, no getting out of line to get closer to them, and Bruce, no bare skin! We're gonna have Hal set them down and see who they come to first."

"This isn't gonna go the way you think it's gonna go," Bruce says, endlessly amused. "Please, none of you get your feelings hurt."

"Nobody's gonna start cryin', relax," Jason says, lounging on the floor between Damian and Hal. "Kay, we ready?"

A chorus of agreement follows, and Hal gently lowers you to the floor. They all immediately call your name, or variations of your nickname, waving their hands and patting their laps to get you to come to them. Your eyes widen, startled by the sudden rush of noise, and turn your head to assess everyone across the room.

You lock on to the man you want, the binky in your mouth bopping up and down excitedly, and you start speedily crawling to Jason.

"I KNOW that's fuckin' right!" He yells, scooping you into his arms and gently tossing you in the air a couple inches, then peppering your face with kisses. "I'm the favorite you little freaks. Kiss my ass."

"Okay, whatever, we knew that already," Dick says, "now it's time to see who the second favorite is. Put them down and go away so we can play again."

"Be nice to your brother," Bruce says. Dick flicks Bruce in the ear and he scowls. "Ow. Be nice to me."

"Fine. Gotta know who my competition is for the number one spot in Mousey's heart, even if I'm winning by a landslide." Jason carries you across the room and sets you back down. "You stay for a sec, kay? Pound it." He picks up your chubby arm and makes you give him a fist bump, then walks away from you.

Before they can even start a second round of the game, you're shuffling after him again. Christ, it's adorable.

"It's because they can still see you, Todd," Damian says, scooping you up to put back in starting position. "Duck behind the couch."

Jason rolls his eyes but complies, bending down until he's out of sight. When the rest of the family calls for you again, you shuffle forward like you're going to crawl to Hal, but you veer past him and around to the back of the couch to get to Jason again.

"Oh my god, they've developed object permanence already," Tim says. Jason's triumphant laughter fills the room as he lifts you up to give you more kisses. His endless delight and your happy squealing softens the blow to everyone else's egos.

"This game sucks anyway," Dick mumbles, crossing his arms in defeat. "What idiot even came up with it in the first place..."

--

"You ask."

"Uh, no? You ask? I don't care."

"Yeah but he tolerates your questions. I don't wanna get my jaw blown off."

"Then don't ask, dumbass. It's so easy."

Jason clears his throat, causing the two goons to stiffen up and turn to face him. One of them looks upset that he was caught unaware, and the other looks one wrong move away from pissing himself.

"Hi, boss," they both greet.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Jason asks, taking a half-step closer. "Cause last I checked, I sent you both over here to do quality control on our newest drug shipment. And I'm not seeing a lot of that gettin' done."

He turns to the more frightened man. If he didn't have his helmet on, he would've sneered at him.

"So what's the hold up? Need me to sew some mouths shut? Hmm? Want me t'cut out your fuckin' tongue? That'll motivate you real fast, I bet."

"We'll get right on it, boss," the other, clearly smarter, henchman states. "We were just. Uh. Wondering why there's... why there's a baby strapped to your chest."

Jason looks down at you. You stare right back at him, making a soft cooing noise around your Red Hood-themed binky, and reach up for his mask. He gently takes your hand instead, feeling your tiny fingers curl around the leather of his gloved pointer. He's smiling sweetly at you, despite no one being able to see it.

"This is M," he says by way of an answer. "Won't be an everyday occurrence — couldn't find another babysitter so I assured the dad I'd keep 'em safe for the night."

He doesn't mention that your dad is also his dad, and that when Jason tried to leave to do his vigilante work, you screamed the house down and would only calm down in his arms, therefore he had no choice. So here you are, strapped to his chest in a onesie padded with kevlar and vital-tracking tech, while your favorite brother carries your diapers and formula around in the same duffel he stashes his guns.

And because you're his favorite, too, he secretly hopes you throw more fits so he gets to hoard you all to himself again. Taking a few minutes to tickle your tummy or gently rock you in his arms stops him from losing his patience and blowing out the brains of several subordinates tonight — which his men clearly catch onto, because they all start telling him how nice it is to see such a cute and perfect and pleasant, life-saving baby hanging around.

Fuck yeah it's nice. S'cause you're the coolest baby ever. Jason gently makes you fist bump him.

--

"AHHH!"

Jason is out of his chair and bolting across the Manor before his brain fully registers your screaming through the baby monitor. There's surprised exclamations and footfalls not far from him as his thunderous steps stir up a commotion, but he doesn't care about that.

There are very few times in his life when he's moved this fast. Large, expansive rooms fly by him in a blur of color. He takes the stairs six at a time. If a door he needs to get through is closed, he's breaking it down with a well-placed hit with his shoulder and moving on.

When he gets to your room, he stops to yank the door open because he doesn't know if you're near it, and darts inside with a sharp shout of your name.

"What's wrong!?" He pants, zeroing in on you immediately. You've rushed into your wardrobe and climbed inside it, red-faced and crying as a crow flaps haphazardly around the bedroom. The shattered glass on the floor gives him the missing context, and he snatches the bird out of the air with more force than necessary while the adrenaline spike is still scrambling his nervous system.

Bruce is the second person to rush into your room just moments after, crouching by your hiding spot with furrowed brows and a soft, slightly winded voice.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You whimper but shake your head, fat tears rolling down your little cheeks, and lift your hands. Bruce picks you up without hesitation and stands up.

"Jaylad?" He says, still in that gentle tone. "You alright?"

Jason doesn't answer. He's not alright, not really. The rage he'd built up thinking someone was in here hurting you is still burning through his veins, and with no outlet for it, he's struggling a bit.

Bruce doesn't take offense to his lack of response. He just offers you a small, reassuring smile and bounces you a bit in his arms.

"Let's go find Grandpa and snuggle up with some hot chocolate," he murmurs. "Jay-Jay will hang back and make sure your bedroom is safe for you."

"No!" You sob, leaning around your father's broad shoulders to reach for Jason. "Want Jay-Jay!"

"You can spend time with him in a little while, Mouse," Bruce says, starting to carry you out of the room. Your protests get louder and more frantic, pushing against him to no avail.

"Want Jay!" You repeat, sobbing openly. "Jay-Jay! Want, p'ease!! Jay-Jay!"

"Bruce," Jason utters through grit teeth. His father stops, only a few steps down the hallway, and turns back to him. "It's fine. I'll take 'em, you clean up the mess."

"...are you sure?" Bruce frowns, visibly cautious. He looks down at the bird still flapping helplessly as Jason holds it by the neck, firmer than strictly necessary.

Jason takes a step towards the broken window and tosses the crow out. After a second of frantic flapping, it straightens itself out and flies away with panicked sqawking.

He turns to you and holds out his arms. They're only trembling a little bit, but the edges of his vision are still tinged with green. Bruce hesitates to pass you over.

"I've got it," Jason murmurs, "I'm calm enough. Gimme my fuckin' sibling before you piss me off worse, B."

Bruce nods slowly. He brings you back into the room and hands you off to Jason. Your arms circle his neck and cling on tight, and you bury your face in his chest as you cry. It breaks his heart that you had such a bad scare. He can see the half-completed Lego build you were playing with on the floor in front of the window and hopes Bruce can get all the glass shards out between the bricks and carpet.

Jason carries you out of your bedroom and down the corridor to his. He leaves his door cracked open and flicks on lights as he goes, then brings you to the en-suite bathroom.

"Okay, Mousey," he mumbles, trying to set you on the sink's vanity. You clutch him tighter and whimper, and it drives a spear right through his chest. "Kid, I'm not goin' nowhere. Jay-Jay's right here, I just wanna make sure there's no glass on you."

A little more prodding and the compromise of you holding one of his hands gets you to relent. You sit miserably on the counter as your sobs slowly die down, and Jason tediously checks your hair and clothes for any bits of glass that may have landed on you when the crow crashed into the window. The slow, repetitive motions help quiet the last of his anger until he's just tired and concerned for you. He finds a couple tiny pieces, but your skin is unblemished and when he asks if you're hurt, you shake your head, which then calms him entirely.

"Alright, great job," he murmurs. "Come here, we'll go bother Alfie t'give us an icecream sammy before dinner and then cuddle in the main living room. Good plan?"

You sniffle, wiping the last of your tears away. Your cheeks are flushed and puffy. "Yeah, good pwan..."

Jason kisses the top of your head and offers you his fist. You gently bump yours against his, then lift your arms again to be picked back up. He obliges, refusing to put you back down for the rest of the day. When it's time for bed, you don't wanna go back into your room, so he spends the evening reading his current novel with a dim book light while you snooze away on his chest.

--

He's livid. Jason's got a hole in his leg and he can't run away from the rival gang leader pointing a gun at his head, and he's fucking livid.

"My first death was way cooler," he mutters. "Got blown up and everything."

"What the fuck are you saying?" The other man scowls. "I never could understand you through that thick-ass helmet."

"I'm saying, if you're gonna go down as the guy that killed the Red Hood, at least make the execution something fuckin' noteworthy," Jason rants, the pain making him bitchier than usual. He waves his hands for emphasis, pointing at the gunman much like a mother scolding her child. "Ohh I shot him and watched his brain splatter everywhere! So has every single marksman ever. I'm worth more than a bullet in an alleyway. The fuck do I look like, Bruce Wayne's folks?"

"Whoa, man," the shooter says, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad I'm gonna kill you. You're that mad I'm not gonna kill you...in a cooler way?"

"Excellent listening ears, bucko! Gold star!" Jason coos, clapping. "Immolation, decapitation, tossin' me in an acid pit — fuck me, I'll take a stab wound over a bullet! D'you know how skilled you gotta be to get close enough to stab Red Hood to death!? If not for me, do somethin' that'll raise your own paltry street cred, shit. You're so fucking boring."

The man doesn't get another chance to weigh his options. The darkness of the alleyway pounces on him, sucking him into the void while he shrieks like an animal. Jason slumps against the wall and watches the shapeless darkness warp and twist, the gun abandoned on the ground in the gunman's initial panic. He feels his heart rate slow when you step out after a minute, wearing a thick jacket over your pajamas and a domino mask over your eyes as you hurry towards him. A flash of irritation makes him scowl as he realizes one of the others woke you up for this, when you aren't even a vigilante to begin with. The culprit's gonna get their ass beat as soon as he recovers enough to track them down.

"Okay," you stammer, kneeling next to him on the ground with a first aid kit. "Okay okay okay...Alf — umm, Agent A? I'm here, what do I do?"

"Remain calm, Flittermouse. All will be well," Alfred soothes you over the comms. Jason feels the adrenaline steadily exiting his body now that he's registered that he's safe. Now, it's a fight to stay conscious so you don't freak out even more than you're currently doing. He's so proud of you for coming out here despite the blatant fear.

Your hands shake as you pop the kit open and pull out the field tourniquet. Alfred instructs you on how to set it up, and Jason gently adjusts it when you wrap it a little too close to the bullet wound in his thigh. He grits his teeth as you tighten it, refusing to make a peep, and gives you a quick thumbs up when you tie it off.

"Okay, I stopped the bleeding. Do I bring him home, now?" You ask.

"As long as he has no other injuries, the medical bay is ready for you to transport him back to the cave."

"M'good, Mousey," Jason says, lifting his fist. "Sorry you had to come rescue your cool big bro. S'not your job."

"I was the one who could get here the fastest," you reply. After a moment's hesitation, you bump his fist with your own. "You're gonna be okay."

"M'gonna be okay," he echoes, knowing you need that confirmation. "Saved my life, kid. I'll do all your chores for the next week."

That gets a wet laugh out of you. You hug Jason tight and the shadows of the alley pool underneath your bodies. Jason closes his eyes and hugs you back, a steady anchor in the free-falling sensation entering your darkness gives him.

"My heroics are only worth a week of chores?"

"S'better than the rest get," he says. "They get one chore. Not even a whole day, just one chore."

You bury your face in his shoulder as the void swallows you and him up.

"You're my favorite, too, Jay-Jay," you mumble. Jason smiles as he loses the battle for consciousness.

--

"Good afternoon; welcome to Truce Juice. Would you like a moment with a menu or are you ready to order?"

Jason leans his hip against the counter and takes a menu off the small, laminated stack you've got sitting there, glancing over the options. Behind the helmet, he smiles as he remembers all the late nights you pulled him and your other brothers into the kitchen to taste test these drinks and snacks, desperate to make things that would appeal to many people. He remembers how proud you were to graduate from your culinary courses and the victory cry you let out when you found insurance willing to cover the building.

You smile warmly at him, waiting patiently for him to choose something off the menu for the first time in your brand new business.

"Black coffee," he says, voice warped by the modulator in the helmet, "two sugars."

"What size?" You ask, tapping it into the screen in front of you.

"Large. And a turkey panini, with avocado and pesto."

"Toasted?"

"What other fuckin' way would anybody get a panini?" He muses aloud. To strangers, he would sound angry, but you can tell he's genuinely asking. You just shrug and keep the soft smile on your face.

"You'd be surprised. Your total's on the screen; will that be cash or card?"

Jason reaches a gloved hand down. It glides past the pistol strapped to his thigh, eliciting nervous gasps from bystanders in the cafe, and into the pocket underneath, drawing out a plain, tri-fold wallet. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and huffs at you to keep the change, then saunters over to the pick-up counter to wait.

He crosses his arms and watches you scuttle around behind the counter, genuinely happy to make food and drinks for anybody that comes in. So far, you're uninjured and you've been able to stop any rising conflicts in seconds, which he's endlessly thankful for.

When his order is ready, you hand it to him with another bright smile.

"Alright, mister Hood, here you go. Have a great day!"

Jason nods, about to turn away, when he sees you hold your fist out in his periphery.

He grins, heart fit to burst, and bumps it back.

[mcrdvcks]

what are hands for?

chapter summary: After an offhand comment from your father shakes your confidence, you find yourself spiraling into self-doubt.

word count: 2.4k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i'm not even gonna lie, this is extremely self-indulgent. i've barely been home for a week and my dad's already called me fat once and it definitely won't be the last time

anyways, i basically wrote this for myself but i thought i'd share it because i know for some people, being home for the holidays is rough! and the only thing i need is for logan to tell me he loves me and everything would be perfect

warnings/tags: insecure!reader, reader has a brother, skipping meals, implied that reader has received rude comments from family before, reader describes herself as 5'7" and over 200 lbs one time (like i said, self-indulgent), curvy!reader, angst, fluff

You have always had mixed feelings about going to your parents’ house for the holidays, or even during your breaks during college. You loved home, it was where you grew up so naturally you were supposed to love it.

But you also hated it. Hated the comments, the looks, the yelling—all of it.

And somehow here you were, standing in your parent’s quaint house, your younger brother and his girlfriend already in the dining room helping your mom with dinner while your dad greeted you and Logan.

"Hey, kiddo," your dad said, pulling you into a quick, half-hearted hug before turning to Logan with a small smile. "Logan. Good to see you again."

Logan gave a polite nod. "Good to see you too, sir."

Your dad’s gaze flicked between the two of you for a moment before gesturing toward the dining room. "Everyone’s in there. Why don’t you join them? Dinner’s almost ready."

Logan looked at you briefly, a silent check-in, before heading off. "I’ll go see if they need help," he murmured, squeezing your hand lightly as he passed.

The air shifted the second Logan stepped out of earshot. Your dad turned back to you, giving you a once-over that was a little too long for comfort.

"You’ve put on a little weight, haven’t you?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just landed a verbal punch to your gut. "Must be all that mansion food."

Your chest tightened, heat creeping up your neck. You opened your mouth to respond—what, you weren’t sure—but he didn’t wait for an answer. He just patted your shoulder like it was nothing, muttered something about checking on the turkey, and walked off, leaving you standing there alone.

In the back of your mind, you knew you should’ve put on a different shirt, this one was just a tad bit too tight. But it was one of Logan’s favorite’s, so you didn’t pay too much attention to it.

You pulled on your blouse a few times, trying to get it to not stick to your stomach before walking into the dining room like you always did when you were younger, with a fake smile.

---

You huffed, yanking the seventh shirt over your head and tossing it onto the growing pile on the bed. Nothing looked right—nothing felt right. Every shirt clung too much, hung awkwardly, or just didn’t sit right. And with each outfit failure, the voice in your head grew louder, echoing your dad’s casual remark.

You tugged at the hem of your tank top, staring at your reflection in the mirror with narrowed eyes. “Stupid,” you muttered, turning to the side to inspect your profile. “It’s just a shirt. It’s fine.” But it didn’t feel fine.

After another long minute, you grabbed a loose hoodie from the closet and pulled it on, letting it drown you. It wasn’t what you’d planned to wear, but at least it hid everything you didn’t want to see.

You made your way downstairs to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before your class. On the counter were a box of donuts, and without thinking you grabbed the two you normally did in a napkin and made your way out.

But not before pausing at the doorway, a bite already taken out of one donut as you looked down at the food in your hand. You took another bite and threw both away, making your way to your classroom before the kids got there.

You got to the classroom a good twenty minutes early, dropping your bag onto the desk with a sigh. The hoodie you’d thrown on still felt too heavy, too obvious, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. The two bites of the donut you’d managed to eat sat like a stone in your stomach.

You busied yourself setting up for the day, pulling worksheets out of your bag and lining them up on the desk. It wasn’t much, but focusing on something, anything, kept your mind from wandering too far down the spiral. The kids would be filing in soon, their chatter filling the space, and that would make it easier. It always did.

But for now, the silence was suffocating.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and you looked up, expecting one of the students. Instead, it was Ororo. She leaned casually against the frame, a warm, curious smile on her face.

“Morning, Y/N,” she greeted, stepping into the room. “You’re here early. Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, nodding as you shuffled a few papers around unnecessarily. “Yeah, just… wanted to get a head start. You know how Mondays are.”

Ororo tilted her head, clearly unconvinced but kind enough not to push. “If you say so,” she said, her tone light but probing. Her gaze swept over you, lingering for just a second on the oversized hoodie before she caught herself. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thanks, ‘Ro.” You gave her another tight-lipped smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt.

She hesitated for a beat before nodding and stepping back into the hallway. As soon as she was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

The classroom slowly came to life as the students trickled in, their energy filling the room and pushing your thoughts to the background. By the time the lesson was underway, you were almost able to pretend nothing was wrong. Almost.

It wasn’t until later that day, during lunch, that it all came rushing back. The teachers’ lounge was unusually crowded, laughter and conversations bouncing off the walls. You slipped in quietly, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the counter before finding a corner to sit in.

From across the room, Logan caught your eye. He was leaning back in one of the chairs, arms crossed, but the second he saw you, his expression softened. He gave you a small nod—his way of checking in. You nodded back, offering a faint smile.

You didn’t miss the way his brow furrowed slightly, though, or the way his gaze lingered for just a moment too long before he turned back to his conversation with Scott. It wasn’t like Logan to hover or push, but you knew he noticed things. And he never let them go.

---

After classes you went into the kitchen to put your mug in the sink from hours ago. Out of habit, you grabbed a few cookies Ororo had made yesterday before stopping yourself.

You stared at the cookies in your hand, your frown deepening as your dad’s words replayed in your mind like a broken record. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you felt like throwing the cookies straight into the trash.

“What’d those cookies ever do to you, darlin’?” Logan’s voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze wasn’t accusing, just… observant.

You hesitated, gripping the cookies tighter. “Nothing,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just… wasn’t really hungry.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, pushing off the doorframe to step into the kitchen. “Didn’t seem like you were thinkin’ about that a second ago,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “Something on your mind?”

You shook your head quickly, putting the cookies back on the plate. “Nope. Just tired. Long day.”

He didn’t look convinced. Logan had a way of reading you like an open book, and you hated it sometimes. Hated how hard it was to hide from him, even when you wanted to.

“Darlin’…” His voice was softer now, his hand reaching out to brush yours. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “It’s nothing, Logan. Seriously.”

He stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, you know I don’t buy that. You’ve been off since we got back from your folks’ place.” His voice was low, steady. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. The last thing you wanted was to unload all this on him. But the look in his eyes—genuine, steady, patient—made it impossible to deflect.

“It’s just… something my dad said,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “What’d he say?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Y/N.” His tone was firm, but not unkind. “What’d he say?”

You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “He… made a comment about my weight,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up. “Said I’ve been eating too much mansion food.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together. “He said that?” His voice was low, dangerous. You nodded, still not looking at him. “That’s bullshit,” he muttered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“It’s not—he didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to defend weakly, though you weren’t sure why. “It’s just how he is. And, it’s not like he’s wrong either, I could lose some weight. I’m 5’7” and over 200 pounds, and sometimes my old pants don’t even go over my thighs or hips. And—”

Logan held up a hand, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Alright, stop. Just stop.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a protective edge to it. “First off, I don’t give a damn what your old pants fit like. And second, your dad? He’s got no right to talk to you like that. None.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Logan stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Nope. Not hearin’ it, Y/N. You’re sittin’ here pickin’ yourself apart ‘cause of some stupid thing he said, and that’s not fair. Not to you.”

“But he’s not wrong,” you muttered, looking away. “I mean, look at me. I’m—”

“Perfect,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re perfect. And I don’t wanna hear you say otherwise.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re just saying that.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who just says things?” Logan shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, I’m the last person to sugarcoat anything.”

You hesitated, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Logan sighed, stepping closer and resting his hands lightly on your hips. “Y/N, you’re strong. You’re smart. And yeah, you’ve got curves—and I happen to like ‘em. A lot.”

Your face heated at his words, but Logan wasn’t done. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’d be standin’ here, chasin’ after you, if I didn’t think you were incredible? Come on now.”

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Logan,” you said quietly, still not quite meeting his eyes.

“I know you’re not,” he replied. “But I’m givin’ ‘em anyway, ‘cause you need to hear it. And because it’s the damn truth.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, despite yourself. Logan grinned, clearly pleased to have gotten a reaction out of you. “There’s that smile,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Missed that.”

The knot in your chest loosened just a bit, and you let out a shaky sigh. “Thanks, Logan,” you murmured. “I just… I don’t feel like myself sometimes, you know?”

“I get it,” Logan said, his voice softer now. “We all got our crap to deal with. But you don’t gotta deal with it alone. Not when I’m here.”

You gave him a small nod, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. Logan’s smirk returned, and his hands slid from your hips to the curve of your thighs, his fingers grazing lightly. “Besides,” he said, his tone turning teasing, “you know what these thighs are for, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He grinned, his hands squeezing gently before lifting you up. “For my hands. Nothin’ else they need to do, far as I’m concerned.”

You yelped in surprise, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Logan! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Not until you stop talkin’ nonsense about yourself.”

You glared at him, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed your indignation. “I’m serious, Logan. I’m not exactly lightweight—”

“Good thing I’m not exactly weak,” he interrupted smoothly, his grin widening. “You think a couple extra pounds are gonna make me break a sweat? Sweetheart, I’ve fought Sentinels and lived to tell the tale. Trust me, I got this.”

You groaned, your hands tightening on his shoulders as he adjusted his grip, holding you securely. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinkin’ you’re anything less than perfect,” Logan countered, his tone softening just a bit. “Now, you gonna stop beatin’ yourself up, or am I gonna have to carry you around all day until you do?”

“Logan, we’re in the kitchen,” you hissed, glancing toward the doorway. “What if someone walks in?”

“Let ‘em,” he said with a shrug. “Not like they don’t already know you’re my girl.” He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “Besides, anyone’s got a problem with me lovin’ on you? They can take it up with me.”

You huffed, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, setting you down gently but keeping his hands on your hips. “Now, what do you say we grab those cookies and actually enjoy ‘em? ‘Ro made ‘em for us, after all.”

Your gaze flicked to the plate of cookies, and for a moment, doubt crept back in. But Logan’s steady hands on your hips and the unwavering warmth in his eyes grounded you. “Okay,” you said softly. “Let’s eat the cookies.”

“That’s my girl,” Logan said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching for the plate. He handed you one, grabbing one for himself, and took a big bite, chewing with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Damn, these are good. Think she’d notice if we finished the whole plate?”

You laughed, the sound lighter than it had felt all day. “Pretty sure she’d kill us.”

“Worth it,” he said with a smirk, taking another bite.

You rolled your eyes but bit into your cookie, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue. For the first time in what felt like days, the weight on your chest eased just a little.

And when Logan leaned in to steal a crumb from the corner of your mouth, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to protest.

[geeky-politics-46]

Surgery Headcanon

How would my favorite Marvel men react to you having surgery. 

I'm getting my gallbladder taken out in a couple of weeks, it will be my first surgery ever, so this is 100% self-indulgent. That's part of why I've been so absent this year, I've had an organ rebelling.

Doctor Stephen Strange 

Will ask who your doctor is to see if he knows them. If not, he may send a referral to a trusted former colleague on your behalf. He's not letting you under the knife unless he knows you have a good surgeon.

Will tell you how routine the surgery is if you are starting to worry. Almost a bit blasé about your concerns, after all, bedside manner was never his strong suit as a surgeon. Plus, it really is a routine, laparoscopic procedure. Way less intricate & dangerous than neurosurgery.

1000% will try to micromanage everything once you're at the hospital prepping for or immediately out of surgery. He wants to see your chart. He wants to know what your most recent vitals are. Hell, he may have even asked if he can observe the surgery. Partly, it's him being overprotective, partly it's because he misses being a doctor.

Definitely breaking into the doctor's lounge for the good coffee, not the instant crap in the cafeteria.

After you are home, he will be vigilant about making sure you take your pain meds & will check your incisions to make sure everything is healing well. You are in very safe, if slightly neurotic hands.

Secretly, or not so secretly, enjoying getting to play doctor again to take care of you. Looking forward to when you are well enough that you can play doctor and patient the really fun way.

Bucky Barnes 

May actually be a bigger mess than you are. Thanks to Hydra, medical anything makes his anxiety shoot through the roof. Now piled on top of that, he feels out of control & helpless to make you feel better.

Would have to be physically dragged out of your hospital room, so the hospital staff just lets the whole “visitors hours” thing slide.

The second you wake up, he is by your side asking if you need anything. Probably didn't sleep or even sit down the entire time you were in surgery.

If you even make an odd face, he's asking if you are in pain, and he has become a huge pain in the ass for your nurses. 

May have thought about threatening your surgeon about if something went wrong.

Either guard dog mode, or he completely shuts down. There is no in between. 

Afraid he's going to break you while you are recovering. Offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch just in case. Doesn't want to let you out of his sight until you are healed. 

Steve Rogers

Tells you over and over how everything will be okay and that you are in good hands.

May tell you stories about how much hospitals and medical stuff has improved since he was so sick before the serum.

Reads up on your surgery and your doctors. He wants to understand as much as he can about what is going on. He probably has more questions for the doctor than you do.

Puts on a brave face for you but secretly will be a little nervous. He hates seeing you sick or in pain, and he can't help but worry a little bit.

Will respect hospital rules but will stay up until the very last minute of visiting hours are over. Knows the names of every nurse and doctor treating you. 

Definitely has flowers or a stuffed bear for you as soon as you wake up from surgery. 

Dotes on your every need once you are home and watches you like a hawk. The first few days, he doesn't even let you go to the bathroom by yourself. You can't get away with shortcutting your recovery under his eye. 

Sam Wilson

Buys you a cute, silly stuffed version of whatever you are having surgery on to make you laugh. See my new stuffed sad gallbladder plush as reference here.

All the nurses love him, and he likes to crack jokes with all the staff. Offers to help with anything he can but mostly tries to stay out of their way.

Trying to make you smile all the way until they wheel you to the OR. He doesn't want you to be scared or nervous. 

Like Steve, he will put on a brave face but will be nervous once you are in surgery. Lots of pacing back & forth. Lots of trips to the coffee machine.

Takes care of you once you are home but not quite as mother hen as Steve. Will let you judge what is best for you, but will 100% call you out if he sees you doing something the doctor told you not to.

Will also rat you out to your doctor if you don’t follow their instructions. He doesn't want to snitch, but he'd also rather not be the one to scold you.

Loki

Doesn't like the idea of someone operating on you. Trained surgeon or not, they are still just a simple Midgardian.

Doesn't like the hospital one bit. Comments on the color and decor, even the hideous hospital gown you have to wear. Partly to make you laugh, partly because it was all truly hideous.

If your surgeon even hesitates on a question you ask, Loki will assume they aren't the best and demand another doctor. You may have to talk him down a bit. He's a prince, after all, and he wants to make sure you are in the best hands possible.

The whole thing seems a bit barbaric to him. He would much have preferred using magic or Asgardian ways to heal you, but alas when on Midgard. 

Secretly terrified something will happen to you, but would never tell you he's worried. Doesn't like that he can't do anything to help you.

Is not very used to taking care of people, and as royalty, he's the one used to being waited on, but he will try his best to do whatever you need him to do.

Will probably mostly ignore instructions from the doctor so you are in charge of that part of your care, but he will beg to accelerate your healing with his magic if he can.

Eddie Brock & Venom

Venom brings you chocolates, which he then eats after you tell him he can, and says not to worry because if the doctors don't take proper care of you he will bite off their heads and eat their brains.

Eddie is nervous but trying to be brave, so you won't be scared. It doesn't help that Venom keeps telling Eddie not to make you nervous, which then, in turn, makes him nervous. He will try to make jokes and keep you entertained however he can.  

Eddie and Venom try not to argue while they wait for you to get done with surgery. The last thing you need is to wake up and find out that they ended up in the psych ward for talking to/arguing with themselves in the waiting room. They are on their best behavior.

Both of them try to wait on you hand and foot after you get home. You've had to eat several well-meaning but truly gross breakfasts in bed so as not to disappoint either of them. They mean so well, but neither of them can cook beyond tater tots.

You have woken up to Venom staring at you because “one of us has to watch you at all times until you are recovered”. He took that 100% seriously. He has also stuck tendrils under the bathroom door like cat paws.

One great thing about Venom is the fact that thanks to his tendrils, he can literally get anything you need from around the apartment in seconds without you or Eddie having to get up. This makes him one of the best nurses ever. All you have to do is hint that you want something and boom, it's there.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Clutter (Dean Winchester x female reader)

You've recently moved into the bunker, and your "girly stuff" in the bathroom confuses Dean.

Read it on AO3

Rated T. 910 words. Dean x female reader. Domestic fluff. Moving in together. Cosmetics. Dean being difficult (but he comes around).

You’re walking down the hallway, about a month after you’ve moved into the bunker, when you hear clanging coming from the bathroom, followed by a hearty: “Son of a bitch!”

Closing the distance to the door, you carefully peek in. Dean is standing in front of the bathroom counter, hands raised, several small tubes and tubs and glass bottles upended before him. You walk in with a frown on your face.

“What are you doing?” you ask, making Dean turn around.

“Your weird girly stuff is everywhere,” he complains, looking frustrated. You raise your eyebrows in response.

“My girly stuff?” you repeat, stepping a little closer.

“Yeah,” Dean answers. “It used to be just toothbrushes and toothpaste on here, maybe a razor once in a while, and now it’s all... this.” He underlines the last word by motioning towards the mess in front of him.

“Dean,” you say, shaking your head but unable to hide your amusement at his agitated state. “It’s just moisturizer and some nail polish. It’s not like it’s a bunch of stuff.” Dean makes a face.

“I don’t even know what you’re saying,” he replies. You push your fists into your sides.

“I know you know what nail polish is,” you answer, “and moisturizer… I mean, it kind of explains itself, no?” Dean is about to respond something, but you can tell your calm response is making him realize how silly his reaction to his own clumsiness is. You’re pretty sure half of it is embarrassment at pushing over the stuff in the first place.

“Well,” he continues, not quite ready to drop the topic, “what about this?” He points at a small glass bottle.

“My perfume?” you ask, walking closer to him. “You like my perfume.”

“Yeah,” he immediately replies. “When it’s on you. Not when it’s standing around, taking up space.” You lean one hand on the counter.

“And what’s your proposed solution?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug. “Can’t you keep it in your room?”

“Sure I could,” you respond. That really takes the wind out of Dean’s sails.

You have no intention of moving the stuff to your room, since it would mean you would have to move back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom much more than necessary. But if there’s one thing you have learned about discussions with Dean, it’s that not meeting him halfway on his irritation usually ends the thing before it even begins. Sam could really take a page out of your book.

Like now, Dean is already looking embarrassed. He looks back at one of the tubes that has fallen over, rights it.

“I mean,” he says, not looking at you, “you don’t have to. It’s your bathroom too. But maybe some of it can go in the drawers?”

“Absolutely,” you say, turning to open one of the drawers he mentioned, and placing a majority of the products in there. You close the drawer by pushing your hip against it as you turn back to Dean. He has his hands shoved into his pockets and his lips are pursed.

“And I guess I could have just asked you that in the first place, instead of making a scene,” he says, still not looking at you directly.

“Yep,” you say, then move closer to him and wrap your arms around him.

Dean chews the inside of his cheeks before he looks at your face. “And you’re not even gonna make me feel bad for being an idiot?”

“Please,” you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Your idiot side is, like, my fifth favorite side of you.” Dean raises his eyebrows.

“What’s number one?” he asks.

“When you’re all rueful and sorry about being said idiot,” you say, kissing him again. “And want to spoil me to make up for it.” Dean chuckles abashedly.

“Right,” he mumbles, then looks at your face again. “I’m sorry.” You smile up at him.

“Already forgotten,” you reply. Dean studies your face for another second, then wraps his arms around you too, presses his face into your neck. You giggle at the way it tickles you.

The two of you stand like that for a minute, before you feel Dean inhale deeply, like a drowning man coming up for air. He really does like your perfume on you.

“What the hell is moisturizer?” he says into your neck and you can’t help but laugh.

“It’s what you’re gonna have to start using at some point,” you answer, “if you don’t want to look like Skeletor by the time we’re sixty.”

“Skeletor’s ripped,” Dean mumbles against your skin.

“That’s not the part I was referring to,” you point out, kneading the back of his neck. To your disappointment, Dean disentangles his face from you and looks at you, frowning.

“Wait, are you saying we’re still gonna be together when we’re sixty?” he asks and you nod.

“Which is why,” you add, “you have to start taking care of yourself. Otherwise people are going to ask, why is that gorgeous, smooth-skinned woman with that old, ugly—hey!”

Dean has wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up, thrown you across his shoulder. You’re giggling like crazy when he carries you out of the bathroom.

“Dean!” you squeal. “What are you doing?” Dean playfully slaps your butt, all caveman-firefighter-style.

“Spoiling you,” he answers, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

[lildavewrites]

the way you felt in my arms | kimi antonelli

requested? : yes! ‘hey there! could you pls write one where reader is ollie’s sister and kimi and her have been sneaking around dating for like 6 months or so. and then ollie catches them.’

edit: I have completely lost the request- I am so sorry 😭

edit 2 : I FOUND THE REQUEST FOR YOU POOKIE<3

summary : an accidental sleepover exposes your secret relationship with kimi to your brother

disclaimers : second pov (you/your), bearman!reader, rather fluffy in the beginning, not proofread

word count : 2k

a/n : thank you for the request! I love writing for kimi atm, so if anyone has any kimi (or ollie) requests send them in bc they are likely to get done fast lol

MEXICO GP WEEKEND

When Ollie had first introduced the two of you, his little sister and his best friend, he made it pretty clear that he didn’t want anything to happen between you two. You and Kimi had clicked instantly, finding you had a lot in common, and it didn’t take long for your friendship to grow into something more. You were hesitant to get into a relationship with Kimi though, knowing how upset Ollie would be, but that didn’t last for long. Some flowers and a promise to keep it secret was all the convincing you needed.

Thats how you found yourself in Mexico, standing outside of Kimi’s hotel room at 10:30pm on a Thursday, blanket and snacks in hand. You quietly, and quickly, knocked on the door, adrenaline high as you glanced at the door to the right, which was where your brothers room was. You had gotten pretty good at sneaking around in the past six months, but you were still nervous of your brother finding out everytime you did.

You worries quickly melted away as the door opened and you were met with a large smile. You matched his smile, quickly making your way into his hotel room. You set your blanket and the snacks you had grabbed from the corner store on his bed, then turned towards Kimi. His hair was damp, a few curls splayed across his forehead, and he was dressed comfortably.

“Hi,” Kimi said as he made his way to you, arms wrapping around your waist. Your arms instinctively reached up to wrap around his shoulders, and you could feel him relax under your embrace. He pulled back after a moment, and it was then you could see how tired he was. Your eyes softened as you reach a hand up to run through the back of his damp curls.

“You look tired, do you want to reschedule?” you asked, to which Kimi quickly shook his head to. You gave him a small smile, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty because you knew he had had a busy day with media duties and team meetings, and he had to be at the paddock early tomorrow. “Are you sure? It's okay,” you added.

“No, no,” He said, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, before stepping around you to the bed, though his hand found yours and he pulled you with him. “And, I have your favorite movie,” he added, turning to you with a wide smile as he turned his laptop towards you to show it already loaded up on the screen.

Your heart swelled at the small action, seeing your favorite movie, which you knew Kimi was not a fan of. “You hate that movie,” you said with a laugh, following him around the side of the bed, grabbing your blanket in the process.

He flashed you a sheepish smile, pulling you onto the bed with him. “Yeah, but you love it,” he said, his tired eyes finding yours. You both cuddled up under your fluffy blanket, his arm wrapping underneath your waist and your head leaning on his chest. He grabbed his laptop, placing it where you could both see the screen, then played the movie.

It was quiet nights like these that you cherished, nights that were becoming too far between for both of your liking. It was rare either of you went on public dates, trying to hide your still new relationship from both the media and your brother. You hadn’t originally set out to hide it from Ollie for as long as you had been, but the more Ollie noticed how close you two had gotten, the more he doubled down on not wanting you two to be anything more than friends. You did plan on telling him soon, but for the time being both you and Kimi loved that your relationship was just yours. The sneaking around, only seeing each other after dark, stealing glances from afar, kisses behind closed doors; it was exhilarating.

Not even ten minutes into the movie, you had looked up to comment on something, but saw Kimi was asleep. His features were calm and he looked so relaxed, you couldn’t help the small smile that made its way across your lips. You stayed like that, just admiring your sleeping boyfriend, for a few more minutes, before reaching down and closing the laptop, moving it to the other side of you guys. As comfortable as you were and as much as you wanted to stay, you knew you couldn’t. All your stuff was back in your room, and Ollie would be looking for you in the morning.

As carefully as you could, you tried to slide out of Kimi’s arms without waking him. You had nearly managed to when you felt his once loose grip on your waist tighten before pulling you back to your previous spot. You chuckled as you looked up, meeting his tired, still half-asleep, eyes.

“Stay?” he asked quietly, his voice only a whisper. You smiled, but shook your head, knowing that you couldn’t. Kimi sighed, but didn’t move.

“Love, I can’t,” you said, chuckling as he huffed. “I don’t have any clothes,” you added.

“Wear mine,” Kimi said back, eyes now closed as his hand gently ran up and down your side.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure Ollie would love to see me rep Mercedes,” you retorted, earning a small chuckle from Kimi.

“He wouldn’t suspect a thing,” he joked, earning a quiet laugh from you. A short silence fell between the two of you, and for a moment you had thought Kimi had fallen back asleep. After a moment, he spoke up again. “You’re so relaxed, I can feel it. You don’t want to leave,” He said, still trying to convince you to stay.

You looked up again, seeing a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and couldn’t help the smile that then tugged at yours. You laid your head back on his chest, pulling the fluffy blanket back around your body.

“No, I don’t,” you admitted. You didn’t plan on staying the whole night, just until Kimi fell back asleep, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen unless he thought you were staying.

Or at least, that was the plan.

But the longer you waited in the dark and quiet room, cuddled up to Kimi, the more your eyelids began to droop. Everytime you were sure Kimi had fallen back asleep, he’d mumble something to you or move his hand up and down your side again for a short time, letting you know he was still awake. Eventually, you just couldn’t keep you eyes open any longer, and you slowly succumbed to sleep.

You were startled awake by a loud banging at the door, followed by a shouting voice. You picked your head up, tired eyes meeting a confused Kimi, who was patting around the bed for his phone. You looked around the still dark room, but paused when your eyes landed on the window, seeing the sky painted with shades of pink and orange. It was morning and you were still in Kimi’s hotel room.

“Kimi, we need to go!” a familiar voice shouted through his hotel door, followed by a series of loud knocks. It took you a minute before you realized the voice was your brothers.

“Shit,” you cursed, eyes wide as you turned to Kimi, who was mirroring your expression. You shoved his shoulder, trying to tell him to get up, while you gathered your blanket and jumped up from the bed.

“What do you want me to do?” Kimi asked in a not-so-quiet whisper, texting Ollie from his phone to say he’d be out in a minute. You folded your blanket in your arms, setting it in the corner of the room, before turning back to him, shrugging your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, grabbing your phone to see a few texts and missed calls from Ollie. “Oh, he knows,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself but Kimi had overheard you as he was trying to quickly get ready.

“What?” Kimi asked, appearing at your side as you showed him the texts, which were a mix of ‘did you oversleep?’ and ‘where are you?’. His hand found your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe he doesn’t, you could just wait here until we leave,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” you said with a nod, although you had a feeling that your brother did know. You and Kimi had both been m.i.a all morning, it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together. “But you have to get going,” you said, helping Kimi gather his things. You leaned up, placing a quick kiss to his lips, before shoving him towards the door. You then quickly ducked behind the wall, sitting back down on the bed out of sight.

Kimi cracked the door open just far enough for him to be able to slide out, but was stopped by Ollie before he could. Ollie had his arms crossed, eyes moving from Kimi to try and peer into the room.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked, looking back down at Kimi, who was shaking his head.

“Uh- myself?” he said as more of a question, trying again to step out of the room, but the taller brunette across from him didn’t budge.

“Mate,” Ollie began, an unamused look on his face, “is my sister in there?”

Kimi was silent for a moment, clearly not expecting that to be one of the first questions Ollie asked, but that was all the answer he needed.

You buried you head in your hands, sighing. This was not the way you wanted your brother to find out about your relationship. You stood up, figuring that the cat was already out of the bag, and made your way over to the door, pulling it fully open. Your eyes met Kimi’s momentarily, and your hand found his.

“Look, I can explain,” you started, looking up at Ollie, trying to read his body language, which was seemed to be displeased. He simply shook his head, his eyes darting between the two of you.

“How long?” he asked, eyes now locked on yours.

“Um- about six months,” you mumbled after a moment, your eyes darting to the floor. You felt Kimi gently squeeze your hand, catching your attention. “I’m sorry Ollie, we were going to tell you eventually.”

“Eventually? In another six months?” Ollie asked with a slight scoff, and for a moment it seemed like he was actually upset. He paused, a sigh leaving his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t care, it’s just weird,” he said, and almost instantly a tiny weight felt like it was lifted off of your chest.

“Actually?” Kimi asked, having expected a completely different reaction to his best friend finding his little sister in his hotel room.

“Yeah, I guess,” Ollie said, crossing his arms again. “We’ve got to get going,” he added, looking at Kimi, who quickly nodded his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kimi said, turning to you. “I’ll see you at the track?” He asked, seeing as you still had to stop back at your room to get dressed and ready for the day.

You nodded your head, turning to Ollie. “Be nice,” you said, giving him a small glare, as you knew Kimi was about to get a lecture from him on their way to the track.

Kimi gently tugged on your hand, catching your attention, and placed a quick but sweet kiss to your lips.

“Woah- I do not want to see that!” Your brother exclaimed, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes as he turned around, causing both you and Kimi to chuckle.

Ollie wasn’t entirely happy about the idea of his little sister dating his best friend, but as long as you were happy, and he didn’t have to see any pda, so was he.

masterlist | have a request? send it in!

[thesparkling-diamond27]

Dancing Through Life

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.

A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).

I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!

It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.

I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.

Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.

I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.

“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.

“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.

I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.

“It’s Friday.” He continued.

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.

“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.

“This is fun to me.”

“School work is fun?”

“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”

“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”

“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”

“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”

“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”

“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.

“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”

I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room to find another book.”

“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”

“No.”

I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.

“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”

He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.

“Hey give that back!”

I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.

“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”

Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”

I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?

“Princess?”

“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.

I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.

“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you two are a thing.”

Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”

My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.

“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.

That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.

I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.

“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”

“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.

“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.

“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”

I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”

I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.

“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“No I’d rather not.”

I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.

“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.

“How?”

“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”

“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”

“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”

“I’ll pass.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left her at home.”

Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.

“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.

Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”

I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”

“It’s beautiful.”

I stopped walking and choked on air.

“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.

“Which way is your room?”

I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.

“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.

“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.

“Y/n.”

Fiyero smiled at my response.

“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”

I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.

“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”

Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.

“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”

His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.

He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.

—————————

I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.

“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.

“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.

“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.

“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.

“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”

“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.

“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”

“Fiyero.”

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.

“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”

“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”

I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.

When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.

Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.

Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.

“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.

“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.

“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”

“Oh?!”

“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Nothing else happened!”

“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Why-“

“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”

Ezra looped his arm with mine.

“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”

“I’m not going to—“

“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”

Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.

“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.

“Well go on.” He prompted.

I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.

—————————

Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.

The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.

Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.

“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.

“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”

I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”

“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”

“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.

“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”

“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.

“Yeah him too.”

Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.

I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Alright then. Princess.”

“Y/n.” I corrected him

“Princess Y/n.”

I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.

“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”

“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”

I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.

“Not a chance.”

“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”

“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.

“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”

Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.

“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.

One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.

At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.

“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.

“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”

I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.

“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”

“I can for you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.

He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.

“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”

“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.

Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.

“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.

Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.

At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.

I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”

“Shut up.” I mouthed back.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.

I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.

Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.

[amomentsescape]

Yay request are back! I loved your yandere slasher sleepwalking one shot so may I request another sleepwalking reader scenario?

But instead of sleep escaping they just roam around like a drunk saying cute things like about how much they love them and silly things like how the strawberries are so obnoxious always saying they're the best fruit while the reader is just sitting in the fridge and random stuff like that?

And the Slasher just finds it aboustly adorble and fondly giggle at their antics while lovingly guiding them to bed?

😴😴😴🤤🤤🤤🥰🥰🥰

Slashers with Funny Sleepwalking! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: It's been a long time coming. I'm so sorry for the wait on this, and on anyone else's requests still sitting in my inbox. This was a joy to write though, so thank you!

Freddy Krueger

Who needs TV when Freddy has you?

You aren't really able to fully sleep in his world, so he comes to you most nights

He just flops into your still warm spot in bed and watches you stumble around the room

"Freeeedddy! I love you!" you coo over and over

And every time, he replies with a chuckle and an "I love you too"

You giggle and just stumble around some more, bumping into the same wall multiple times

When you finally come back to bed, you just fall right on top of him, not even noticing he's there

Michael Myers

You've woken up a few times in the morning to sore lips

(He duct taped them shut throughout the night)

He's not really home most of the time anyways, so it doesn't really matter

But when he is, the last thing he wants to deal with is you laughing and practically screaming at any object you bump into

He's quite literally locked you in the bedroom some nights so he doesn't have to hear your incessant babbling

"Michael, why is there glue on my cheek?"

He'll just shrug and walk off, tossing a broken glue stick in the trash

In his defense, the glue was nontoxic

Jason Voorhees

He loves to hear your random laughs and nonsensical talk of hysteria

You've grabbed onto his arm multiple times, using all of your strength to pull him outside to go on an "adventure"

"But, Jason! There's strawberry unicorns and feather fields out there!"

He honestly isn't sure if he should be laughing or feeling actively concerned for your wild sense of imagination

He always guides you lovingly back to bed while you have the cutest pout on your lips

"But it's time to explore!"

He just kisses your head and places the blanket back around you

It only takes a few seconds for you to fall peacefully back asleep again

Thomas Hewitt

You're going to make this man go into cardiac arrest

You're sleep talking is adorable, of course

But what isn't adorable is how you think each one of his carving knives is a toy doll

"This one is so pretty! What should we name her?" you asked all giddy

Thomas's smile turns to one of horror as he watches you swing his freshly sharpened butcher's knife around like it was flying

"Weeee!" you squealed happily, only to drop the knife two inches from your foot

Thomas about died

Since then, he makes it a point to lock you both in the bedroom each night

He'll happily indulge in your fantasy like dreams from there

Bubba Sawyer

He literally sets an alarm so he can see what made up conversation you're going to have each night

He'll follow you around, giggling with you about whatever you have to say

"And then I told him to go away cuz why would he say that my favorite fruit isn't his favorite fruit? Who does that? Oh, and then he went and..."

And Bubba just holds your hand and hums along with you as if he's listening

He has no idea what you're talking about most of the time, but hearing your sleepy voice is just so heartwarming, he can't help it

You always wonder why you wake up in the morning sounding like a dying frog

Brahms Heelshire

Oh, Brahms eats it up

You're constantly on a rampage going on and on about how much you love him and how much you need him

And this is exactly what he wants to hear

The moment he feels you stir in the middle of the night, he rolls over and holds you tight, making sure your sleeping actions don't cause you to leave the room

"Is there anything on your mind?" he asks softly

The moment you hear his voice, a big goofy grin spreads across your face

"Oh, Brahms! I love you soooo much. I wish I could just be here with you forever!"

Do you even know what you're saying? Of course not

But Brahms will do everything he can to believe it

Norman Bates

Norman is certainly guilty of staying up too late reading some new novel that has him engrossed

You've almost scared him a few times when he turns to look at you only to be met with your open eyes and droopy smile

"I like the bagels that jam," you say sweetly

Norman just looks at you in a confused smile

"Sure you do, honey"

You just smile and flop your head onto his arm

"Jam jam bagel. Jam jam bagel," you whisper-sing

Norman just chuckles quietly and goes back to his book, letting you continue your random sleepy talk

Billy Loomis

Billy just wakes up with a groan each time

"Babe, please just go to sleep"

"But the caterpillars! They're hiding..." you say, rolling all over the place

He replies with his usual grunt and rolls over, flopping right on top of you

"They're gone now! How did you do that?" you exclaim

He puts his hand over your mouth

"We do this every night," he mumbles into your neck

He's just met with a snore as you've already passed back out

"I don't know how I put up with you," he says with a slight chuckle

Stu Macher

He wakes up to the sound of yelling and fast thumping coming from the living room below

He all but trips on his way downstairs, worried something was wrong

Except he is simply met with you running around in a blanket, yelling about incoherent nonsense

"The snakes! The berries! The fridge!" followed by an immediate laugh

Stu stands there for a bit before finally chasing after you, swooping you up into his arms

"No! They got me! I'll never surrender!" you yell at the top of your lungs

"And I thought I was the loud one," he laughs, carrying your wiggling frame back upstairs to bed

Vincent Sinclair

He wakes up in the middle of the night to a soft voice singing

This would honestly be terrifying in any other context

But since this is almost a nightly occurrence by now, he just responds with a sigh

"Then the fruit tree grows, and the fruit starts to fall, and the-"

Vincent picks you up and tosses you back into bed

"I can fly now!" you yell, kicking your feet

He can't help but smile at your behavior

It might be two in the morning, but seeing you so goofy and free warms Vincent's heart

Just please don't sing so loud anymore, or else Vincent is going to get an earful from Bo the next morning

Bo Sinclair

He can hear you banging around in the kitchen

And he's about to storm out there to complain how it's 3 in the morning, and you shouldn't even be awake right now

But instead, he finds all the food on the floor as you try to wedge yourself inside the fridge

"Lava. There's lava everywhere," you're muttering

"Darlin' what in God's name are you-"

"Bo! You're on fire! Hurry! Hop in!" you yell, trying to make room for him in the cramped fridge

He just lets out a frustrated sigh

"Not tonight, sweetheart."

He quickly picks you and carries you back to the bedroom

"I didn't know you could walk on lava!"