#the way that one of his hands is slightly open makes me think he’s keeping a possibility open in the back of his mind

[sweetlikemonie]

𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒

synopsis: lil blurbs on how they beat it out the frame in (and out) the bedroom!

featuring: toji fushiguro, geto suguru, gojo satoru, nanami kento, & aoi todo x fem!reader

content warning: 18+ minors scram pls. mentions of sex duh, unprotected sex, spanking, multiple positions mentioned (w/twitter visuals 🫣), use of a sex toy in geto’s, lots of dirty talk, pet names, dom/sub elements, oral (fem receiving), hair pulling, exhibitionism, daddy kink in nanami’s, & orgasm denial and creampie in todo’s

author’s note: hey..hey…how y’all doing *miss juicy’s voice*. i’ve been gone for quite a bit. this is a lil rushed especially towards the end but comments and shares are always appreciated. xoxo hope you enjoy!

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

quite literally the one of the reasons i’m making this cause he takes your nut serious. his mission is to make sure you’re completely spent and satisfied. toji is not a mean, hard dom in my world. definitely gives me very much pleasure dom, fucking you until the sheets are riddled with your juices. when he’s satiated. just like when he’s got your back arched deep in the middle of the couch, pounding into you as if his life depended on it. “oou my god toji. y-you’re fucking the shit out me.” you moan out weakly, your hands frantically reaching out to grab at something for balance.

you try to find relief by scooting up slightly on the couch, his harsh strokes beginning to make your wetness run speedily down your thighs. you could barely keep your eyes open; and the only sounds starting to come from your mouth now were wordless grunts and gasps of immense pleasure, signaling your release. it didn’t take him long to catch on before one of his hands reached for your arms, locking them together. his free one gripped at your hair, pulling you back into his chest. “stop tryna run from me baby. you wanted this dick, so lemme give it to you.” he smirked as he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

does not fuck around. be bratty and you’ll suffer the consequences. loves rough sex and spanking, reserved especially when he thinks you’ve been stepping out of line. like when you’ve been having problems at your job with your coworkers snickering at you with snide remarks while you were working. so in turn, you’re snapping on him for little stuff you wouldn’t usually. he confronts you about this and when you finally opened up to him about what you’re dealing with, geto is deeply empathetic to your situation and offers you some stress relief in the best way he knows how, but not without a lil punishment first.

“and you better sound off too princess. you’ve hurt daddy’s feelings this week.” he spoke as he his large hands rubbed across the globe of your ass, before feeling two hard smacks on your left cheek. you lurched forward as you hissed. “fuck. i’m so sorry.” you uttered with a whine, hoping he accepted your apology. you weren’t sorry. it’s as if he knew the truth as he continued his assault on both cheeks of your ass, leaving them stinging and warm to the touch. tears rested at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall. “you may not be right now but you will be soon.” you were confused as to what he meant by that but you soon understood as he positioned you onto all fours and you heard the buzzing sound of your vibrator coming from behind you.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

munchiest munch to ever munch. and eats the booty too! does it for himself and will stay down there for hours if you let him. likes to get your pleasure out the way first cause when it’s his turn to focus on his, that stamina is fucking killer. it’s like he spent your first few orgasms as a warmup and this was the real workout. big dick but not in girth; in length, so he likes those deep, piercing strokes where he can hit that spot you like. missionary because you’re pretty? no. missionary because sato thinks he’s pretty but he also wants to see your reactions? yes.

“gotta give me room to move in this tight ass pussy. s-shit,” gojo hisses with a halt of his hips. he moves from side to side, as if he’s getting snug and securing his spot inside of you. he had been at this for an hour now…pulling 4 orgasms out of you with his tongue, and promising the fifth and final one was to come from his dick. your breath hitches as he starts his strokes back up, thrusting into you with vigor. “ah-ah breathe baby. how it feel?” he coos with that stupid fucking smug on his face as he continues to stroke into you deeply. one of satoru’s hands moves off of your hips, placing it right on your puffy clit tracing it in slow, sloppy circles. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt that cord in your stomach beginning to snap, your orgasm so close you could taste it. you snapped out of your trance when you felt a hand grab at your hair, pulling you up to look at those piercing, blue eyes. “i want you to look at me while we cum together, kay?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

soft man. gentle touches and kisses cause he sees your body like a delicate flower. isn’t real big on rough sex foreal unless it’s been an absolutely stressful and nerve wracking week. doesn’t have to do too much but you still feel him with every nerve you have in your body. loves whispering sweet but absolutely filthy things against your ear, he likes the feeling of you tightening up on him as you take in what he says. since nanami is so laid back reserved i feel like that dick is nice and heavy and is LOUD AF in the sheets. exhibit a & b:

“just like that baby…keep riding that dick.” nanami’s baritone voice spoke lowly by your ear. you were writhing in pleasure as he bounced you up and down along his thick shaft. you two had been all over each other for about an hour now. as soon as he walked through the door, he was greeted by your presence with a warm meal and after that you ran him a nice bath, which is where you two started. nanami was so grateful to have you in his life and he couldn’t think of a better way to thank you right now besides making you come so much you seen stars. “i’m so close kento…help me,” you begged, tears starting to well up in your eyes. you felt your legs beginning to tire out. you had been bouncing on him for about 15 minutes now and on the brink of your second orgasm. his large hands gripped at your hips as he started to fuck you harder and faster from the bottom, signaling his soon release. “tell me you deserve it pretty girl.” you whimpered as you tried to find the words to satisfy him. “i-i deserve it baby. please” you cried out as a huge wave of pleasure overcame you.

𝐀𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎

the other reason i’m making this. many don’t appreciate him like i do but i loveee a built man. you know that song by sexyy red called ‘mad at me’? todo thinks that’s she made the song for him cause it’s exactly how he likes to put it down. don’t tease him in public cause he’s a lil pervert and will get his when and wherever he wants to. like when y’all were doing a lil getaway to a cabin for the weekend, but you couldn’t keep your hands off his thighs and playing with the waistband of his sweats so he pulled over for a little 30 minute intermission.

“all that teasing just for you to be running? tsk, you know better than that mama.” aoi grunted from behind you, his tattooed hand wrapped around your neck, preventing you from freeing yourself from his grasp. his free hand landed three hard slaps each against your ass. part of you didn’t think he would pull over just to put you in your place. but who are you kidding? you knew how much aoi hated teasing. you just thought he would’ve tried to wait until you guys reached your destination. the fact that you were so out in the open and any car passing by could see the compromising position you were in got you so much wetter. his dick began hitting a different angle inside of you that had you squealing and throwing yourself back on him. you wanted to feel him as much as you could. “you gone come for me? i wanna feel all that shit dripping down my dick.” his deep voice rang against the shell of your ear, kissing and sucking on the lobe. you began to feel your release getting closer and closer, his strokes getting harder and wetness running down your thighs when all of a sudden it just—stopped. aoi’s strokes slowed down as you felt his dick throbbing, pumping the last of his cum into you. he pulled your panties and shorts back up before leaving a wet kiss against your temple. “thanks baby, i needed that.” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he left you there to get yourself together.

[ateezscupid]

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST

your adorable nerd boyfriend yunho ♡

"Yunho!" You walk into the studio holding a bag of carry-out food. "You still here?"

Yunho's head peeks out from behind the soundproof door, his eyes bloodshot and weary. "Couldn't get the harmony right," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the faint strums of an unplugged guitar. "Think I'm gonna need to tweak the bridge a bit."

"Aw, baby," You walk over, sitting the carry-out on a chair nearby and kicking the door behind you closed. "You're burning the midnight oil again. What's up?"

"I just-" he sighs. "Hongjoong asked if I wanted to help on the album and I said yes but it's just not coming out right. I'm no good at this."

Your face curls up as you giggle. "Yunho, are you kidding? You're, like, super fucking talented when it comes to making music! You literally wrote a song for me every valentines day and every birthday I had since we first started dating. Why are you so…down? What's with the sudden self-doubt?"

"I've just--been real stressed." He sighs. "I had a shit ton of promotions and a shit ton of practice and work to do and then having to work on the album I-"

"Then tell Hongjoong you won't be able to? You know he won't be mad. You guys have been friends for ages." You rub his shoulders gently, feeling the tension knotting his muscles. You smile warmly and push his glasses up his nose. "You're doing too much."

He rolls his eyes. "Sure. But I want to keep working on it. I wanna participate. I wanna help Hongjoong. Everything has just been stressing me out and we haven't done anything with each other in ages-"

"What do you mean? I hangout in the studio with you literally every time you come in here." You furrow your eyebrows and then pause realizing what he means. "Oh..~"

Yunho nods his head. "Yeah, but it's not the same. I've been so busy, I feel like I've lost touch with everyone, especially with you." He turns to face you, placing the guitar aside. "And I don't wanna disappoint him. I know he's counting on me."

"Well do you want me to help…?" You tilt your head and place your hand on his thigh. "Help with the tension?" You say with a cheeky smile.

Yunho laughs, the first genuine one in hours. "I'd love that," he says, leaning back into the chair and closing his eyes. "But I actually meant with the music."

"So you don't want head?"

He pauses. "Well, both, actually." He opens one eye and peers at you with a half-smile. "I mean, I'm not opposed to it."

You smile and get on your knees, scooting closer and grabbing the hem of his sweatpants. "Just work on the music. I'll do what I need to do." You start to massage his legs, feeling the tightness in his muscles slowly release under your skilled touch. Yunho sighs deeply, leaning his head back.

You bite your lip, pushing his sweatpants down and running your fingers over the bulge showing in his boxers. "Let's get these off," you murmur, your voice low and teasing. He lifts his hips slightly to help you, his breath catching in his throat. You never got over his size, and the way his body responds to your touch still sends shivers down your spine. As you pull his boxers down, his erection springs free, and you wrap your hand around it, giving it a gentle squeeze. Yunho groans, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours, full of heat and need.

With a wink, you lean in, placing soft kisses along his inner thigh, making him squirm. The studio's dim lighting casts a warm glow on his skin, highlighting the goosebumps that rise from your touch. The faint smell of sweat and the lingering scent of guitar strings mingle with his unique scent, creating a heady cocktail of desire. You trace the veins on his cock with your tongue, feeling him twitch in your grip. You look up at him, his eyes now wide with anticipation, and you take him fully in your mouth, sucking and teasing with the perfect amount of pressure. His hips buck, but he quickly stifles the sound, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the night.

"So pretty…" he mumbles, watching as you work your magic. The words are barely a whisper, but the intensity behind them sends a thrill through you. You've always loved this power, the ability to make him feel this way, to make him forget about the stresses of the world outside these walls.

You move your mouth up and down, finding the rhythm that makes his toes curl and his hands tighten in your hair. His eyes are glued to the sight of you, kneeling before him, your lips wrapped around him. The taste of him is familiar, but it never gets old, never fails to make your stomach flip with excitement.

He grabs your hair, guiding your movements, and you feel a shiver run through him. The quietness of the studio is only broken by the occasional sound of someone passing by outside, the distant sound of cars on the street, and the muffled thump of music coming from the other side of the building. It's a stark contrast to the symphony of your heart beating in your ears and the wet sounds of your mouth on his skin.

"You're so pretty, baby," Yunho whispers, his voice strained with pleasure as he watches you, his eyes hooded with lust. You look up, meeting his gaze, and the connection between you is palpable, a silent promise that no matter what happens, you'll always be there to take the edge off.

You moan around his cock, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. He's getting closer, you can feel it in the way his thighs tense and his breathing quickens. You pick up the pace, eager to give him the release he so desperately needs. The tip of your nose nuzzles against his pelvis as you deep-throat him, your throat tightening around his length.

"F-Fuck-!" he chuckles and leans forward, his hand gripping the chair's armrest tightly as he watches you in rapt attention. "Just like that, baby… just like that…" His voice is a hoarse whisper, his eyes glazed with lust as you continue your relentless ministrations. The way you take him in, the passion in your eyes as you suck him off, it's like nothing he's ever felt before.

You flutter your eyelashes as you look up at him, your eyes watering slightly from the effort, but the look of pure ecstasy on Yunho's face spurs you on. You feel the heat building in your own core, the friction of your own arousal against your thighs as you continue to suck and lick, bringing him closer to the edge. His grip on your hair tightens, and you know he's about to come.

His eyes are tightly shut, his head thrown back, and his breaths come in sharp gasps. You feel the muscles in his thighs tighten even further, and you know that he's on the brink. With one final, deep suck, you feel him pulse in your mouth, and he lets out a strangled moan as he releases. You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him, feeling his body relax as the tension drains from his muscles.

You only slow for a moment, now wrapping your other hand around his cock and stroking it as you swallow the last of his cum. You sit back on your heels, smiling up at him, your mouth glistening. Yunho's chest heaves as he looks down at you, his eyes still clouded with pleasure. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice raw and needy.

You smile, leaning back down and kitten licking his tip once again, gently sucking on his tip. He literally jolts at the sensation, his body still reeling from the intense orgasm. "Holy fuck, I just came-"

You chuckle in response, pushing his cock further in your mouth, enjoying the way he squirms. "You can always come more," you murmur, your voice muffled by his flesh. You love teasing him, pushing his limits, making him feel good. It's a power dynamic you both thrive on, one that has grown over the years of your relationship. You swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip before popping it out again. "Can I get one more?"

"I…" he sighs, his body still trembling slightly. "I'm not sure I can handle another one right now." He opens his eyes and looks at you, his smile lazy and content. "But, if you want…"

"You've handled it before." You purr, stroking him gently, watching the pleasure play out on his face as you bring him back to full hardness. The challenge in your tone is clear, and it ignites a competitive spark in Yunho's eyes. He nods, a silent agreement to let you continue your sweet torment.

With renewed enthusiasm, you swirl your tongue around his shaft, feeling his cock twitch in response. Each touch, each lick is met with a soft gasp or moan, his hands tangling in your hair as he guides your movements. The studio's ambiance adds a layer of intimacy to the moment, the muffled sounds of the world outside seemingly fading away as you focus solely on bringing him pleasure.

The overstimulation of his senses is almost too much for Yunho to handle. He watches you, mesmerized by the way your eyes light up with mischief and desire, your mouth a perfect "O" around his cock, your tongue flicking and teasing with the finesse of a pro. The way you manipulate him is like an art form, a symphony of pleasure that he's all too willing to succumb to. He leans back into the chair, his legs spreading wider to give you more access, his body arching off the seat slightly as you deep-throat him again.

He opens his mouth as if he was going to say something, but no words come out. Instead, he releases a low groan as you continue to suck him off, your movements deliberate and practiced. The sound echoes faintly in the studio, sending a thrill through you. You've always loved making him feel this good, reducing him to a puddle of need and desire.

His groans even started turning into whimpers and it was the sweetest sound in the world to your ears. You could feel your own arousal building, your pussy throbbing and wet, begging for attention. But you knew you had to focus on him right now. You sucked harder, your cheeks hollowing as you took him deep, feeling the warmth of his cock in your mouth, the pulse of his blood beating against your tongue. You could tell he was close again, his body tensing and his breaths coming in short gasps.

"Fuck-" he whines, gripping the arm rests so tightly his knuckles turn white. "Oh my fucking god,"

You laugh around his cock, feeling the vibrations from his voice resonate through your mouth and into him. The sound spurs you on, your movements becoming more urgent. You can feel your own orgasm building as you watch him lose control. You've always had this effect on each other, pushing each other's boundaries, finding new ways to make the other feel alive.

"Fuckfuckfuck," his glasses even started to fall off his face. You giggle, reaching up with one hand to gently push them back up, not breaking the rhythm of your mouth. His eyes are now fully open, watching you with a mix of amazement and lust. "You're gonna make me come again," he whispers, his voice strained and desperate.

You nod, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You're enjoying this, the power you hold over him, the way he's at your mercy. You increase the pace, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth, stroking and sucking with a fervor that leaves him trembling. The studio's air feels thick with desire, the scent of sex and sweat mingling with the faint aroma of music equipment.

"Fuck, Y/N," he gasps. "Fuckfuckfuck, I-I'm-" He can't even form the words as his hips thrust upward, meeting your mouth's eager suction. His orgasm crashes over him, and you feel the warmth of his cum fill your mouth once again. You swallow with a satisfied smile, feeling the muscles in your jaw relax as you release him with a final kiss to the tip.

You stand up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, watching as Yunho slumps back into the chair, his body boneless with pleasure. He opens his eyes to look at you, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "Thank you," he murmurs again, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Now, how about you?"

[chastiefoul]

waking them up with kisses

ft. nanami, gojo, sukuna, toji short, fluff, light-hearted. honestly such a word-vomit, written while i was half asleep. but hey hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! slightly suggestive on gojo

nanami

there’s a slight smile on his face by the third time your lips made contact with his skin, yet he showed no of being awake to you, who’s still oblivious to his subtle change of expression as you kept peppering soft kisses across his cheekbone. finally a low chuckle escaped him, he just couldn’t help it. “good morning to you too, my love,” he muttered, pulling you who’s still in his arms closer. the warmth of your body as he embraced you sent an unexplainable ticklish feeling to his stomach.

“seriously, it took so many kisses to wake you up,” you said lightly, brushing the strand of his blond hair. such a weird sensation, to be this giddy right after you woke up, but it’s one nanami welcomed so openly. “hmm, i might need even more to be fully awake,” he replied with a teasing smile, closing his eyes. you felt his leg tangling with yours, there wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t touching yours. like a cat snuggling for warmth.

your hand couldn’t keep itself still, moving from his hair to his cheek. running along your thumb gently across his lashes, and the man suddenly fluttered them open. there wasn’t anything except love as he gazed at you so softly, grabbing your hand as he planted a kiss on your palm. all of it just felt so right, and you couldn’t help but wish that time ticked slower in small moments like this.

gojo

a big grin made its way to his face almost immediately when you started showering the man with kisses. his hair messy from sleep as he lied down, surrendering himself to your attacks; he laughed genuinely, the beautiful sound made you more determined. the mere expression of him being that happy brought you the same if not more amount of joy.

when you finally pulled away there’s a satisfied smile on his face as he opened his eyes. “best morning ever,” he said, pulling you close to his chest, forcing you to rest your head there as you listened to his steady heartbeat. “that’s what you said last time too when i woke you up with a head,” you bantered, there’s a lightness in your chest. he chuckled once more.

“well every morning i start by seeing your face is the best one baby, couldn’t help it,” he muttered, very lightly pinching your cheek as he said this. he then raised your chin with a finger, making you look up at him as he kissed your lips sweetly, moving slowly at the beat of his own drums as he pecked the outer corner of your mouth, and then your cheek. and then there’s just pure mischief on his eyes.

“my turn now!”

sukuna

sukuna indulged himself in a few more of your gentle touches on his face, the softness of it almost made him felt like he was out of place. yet he couldn’t help it, savoring each of your kiss as to making sure he won’t get used to it. finding wonders to every of your move as he cherished it so.

“i’m awake,” he mumbled, thinking it’ll stop you from doing it. but when your response was just to give you more of it he couldn’t help but blinked awake; the sight of you smiling down at him almost made his heart burst. “morning!” you said sweetly, resting the palm of your hand on his bare chest.

“i’m already exhausted looking at your energized-self on the first light of the day,” he claimed, covering your hand with his. “well, we have a date today, of course i’m excited,” you said, the exuberance was apparent on your voice. sukuna looked like he was thinking for a moment before making you lie back down on his arms.

“let me sleep a little longer, then we will do whatever it is that  you want.”

toji

“what’s got you so chirpy, hm?” he had an lazy smile on his face, eyes still closing. his calm expression betraying the giddy feeling in his chest; you were so fucking cute, what’s a man supposed to do? once again you planted a kiss on his lips, right on his scar. there it was again, the damn itch on his chest he couldn’t scratch.

“nothing, just happy,” you replied, drawing random patterns on his chest. “yeah?” he brought you closer with the hand that’s still wrapped around your waist. you nodded happily, snuggling closer to his neck.

toji thought words such as forever or eternity was bullshit until that moment, until he's got you tightly in his hold; all safe and cozy without a care in the world. yet in that split second he wanted it to be true. y’know, just to humor him a little.

“if i didn’t know any better i woulda thought you won a lottery or something.”

but it would be wrong. since he already won it when he met you.

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.2 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has a third part! summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

"I don't think the text was for me, darlin', but for the record, it looks good."

Your widened eyes stared at the text until the screen of your phone locked again due to lack of activity.

You couldn't believe you had been so stupid as to send without checking the contact beforehand! You cursed your slippery fingers, and the fact that their names started with "J". Thankfully you didn't mention any names in the text, or else you'd probably have to drop out and move elsewhere...

Once the embarrassment had washed away ever so slightly, you let his words sink in - "but for the record, it looks good". You gripped your skirt and pressed your thighs together as you imagined the man leaning closely and whispering that in your ear, telling you just how good you looked.

Another dilemma popped into your mind - now that he knew you thought it was slutty, should you really go out in it!? On one hand, Bucky told you it looked good, but on the other you'd basically admitted to knowing too much showed in that outfit...

The sound of a car honking outside broke you from your trance, and you walked over to your bedroom's window to find your ride already waiting for you. You muttered a small "fuck" under your breath gathered all of your things and stuffed them in a bag before taking one last look at the mirror.

"Oh, whatever, can't get worse than it already is." You said to yourself, grabbed a large jersey and threw it on top of the cheerleader outfit you decided to wear.

You sprayed some perfume and left the house, with your heart wanting to find Bucky right away, and your mind wanting him to stay as far as possible.

You all rode in the same car in direction to Andy's house, which meant that at least you wouldn't be alone with Bucky yet again - that alone calmed you down quite a bit. The ride was loud and full of music, but you couldn't stop thinking about your little (big) mistake.

Your friends noticed, but as far as they were aware, you had a thing for Andy, so they just brushed it off as being nervous to be around him or something of the sort.

Fortunately, Andy was the one opening the door this time, and he greeted everyone with a big, adorable smile that would have made you fall to your knees just a couple weeks ago.

"Guys, I need your help carrying the beer cases, the ice and the thermal boxes. Y/N can you and Jas go to the garage and bring the boxes? There's four of them, they're empty so you should be alright bringing two each."

You and the other girl nodded, following his instructions as to how to get to the garage. Once you got there, however, the boxes were nowhere to be seen.

"Can you go ask him where they are, Jas? I'll keep looking."

Your friend nodded and turned around, leaving you alone to look for the boxes by yourself. You tried not to make too much of a mess while searching for them, but you had looked as hard as possible without moving anything, and yet you had no luck finding what you were looking for.

"What happened to that little number I saw?"

You jumped and shrieked at the deep voice behind you. When you turned around you saw those steel blue eyes looking down at you, with a little knowing smile.

There was no point in playing dumb, you both knew what he was talking about. His eyes flew down to your hands that played with the hem of your jersey.

You felt so small under his gaze... You had never felt like this with any other guy - sure, you had been shy before, but when it came to Bucky it was like the words were caught on your throat and your whole body caught on fire. Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was the confidence and power in the way he conducted himself - the image of a man who wasn't, for once, all bark and no bite.

He stepped forward, reaching right beside you to claim the beer he had left open on the counter that you were leaning against.

"Decided against my advice?" He took a swing of his beer, the playful, devilish smile on his face spreading wider "Andy would've liked it."

He was teasing you. He knew you were embarrassed and he was using it against you, for amusement.

"Why? Did you like it?"

The both of you were shocked at the words that left your lips - you didn't know where those words came from and Mr. Barnes wasn't waiting for something so bold to come out of you.

He chuckled and his eyes suddenly seemed to be darker, but that darkness wasn't the lack of emotion you had seen that day at the store, it was a different type... there was something sensual about his gaze rather.

"Maybe I did."

The two of you heard footsteps heading towards you. Bucky stepped away from you and faced the door just as your friend came in.

"Andy said that his dad already- oh, hello Mr. Barnes!"

"Hi there. Can I help you?" He asked Jas.

Bucky acted as if nothing had happened, as if he and you had just been having a casual conversation, as if the air was thick and tense from the sexual tension burning between your bodies.

"Andy told me and Y/N to fetch the thermal boxes, but he didn't know you had brought them out already." She explained.

"I see. Well, have fun girls." He said, looking between you and her, as you walked towards the door to leave with your friend.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your mind, a little bit of revenge for what he had just done to you. You needed to act fast, so thinking twice about the idea was out of the question, you just... did it.

"Aren't you going to watch the game, Mr. Barnes?" You asked teasingly, turning back around to face him.

Bucky scoffed, knowing exactly what you were doing calling him 'Mr. Barnes'.

"Might stop by and watch it, why sweetheart?" The man asked, with a curious look, taking another sip of his beer, something he did often to hide his smirk.

You took off the jersey you were wearing over your outfit, revealing the cheerleader getup you had just talked about, and handed him the item of clothing.

"You don't have anything to support the team! I can lend you my jersey." You said, your voice honest and innocent, as if you didn't know exactly what your words and actions meant, as if there wasn't a second meaning to what you did.

Bucky wasn't exactly subtle in the way he looked at you. His eyes were eating you up, from top to bottom, slowly taking in the view in the flesh. Eventually, he reached for the jersey and took it.

"Thanks, sweetheart, I'll make sure to give it to you when the game is over."

You mumbled a "don't mention it" and walked back into the house with your friend, so you could help everyone set up for the game.

"Dude, his dad is a real DILF." Jas whispered as you two made it to the front porch.

"I know, right?" You smugly agreed.

Whistles and compliments echoed in the room when you pulled up with the cheerleader outfit after ditching the jersey. Andy's eyes in particular stayed the longest on your body, and you felt a little guilty for nor caring about what he thought - the feedback that you truly wanted had already been received.

Bucky had joined the group not long after the game started, and you didn't miss the way his eyes stole glances at you whenever possible.

The man himself didn't know what was wrong with him. He was nearly twice your age, he could be your dad, it was a very possible scenario since his actual kid was your classmate, but for some reason, ever since you had walked into his house with that pretty little skirt and those big, shy eyes, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about you.

He knew he wasn't being subtle when eating you up with his eyes, but Bucky wanted you to know, to see what you did to him.

Both of you were aware of the painfully tense and erotic situation, as you'd spread your legs and cross them more often than not, giving Bucky a good view or your exposed skin, making him yearn for more.

"Shit, we need more chips." One of the guys complained.

"I can get them." You offered, since you weren't really interested in the game, and stood up, taking the two empty bowls with you.

It seemed to be impossible to ever be in that house without being left alone with James Barnes, but that time it wasn't accidental at all. As you were opening the chips and dumping them on one of the bowls, footsteps echoed behind you.

Suddenly, Bucky placed his hands on your waist and flipped you around, pressing you against the counter and trapping you between the furniture and his body.

"What are you doing, darlin'?" He asked, looking straight into your widened eyes.

"I-I'm refilling the chips..." You responded, pointing at the bowl behind you with your thumb.

"Fuck the chips, you know exactly what I mean, pretty girl." The man said, cutting right through your act, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you to him.

One of the corners of your lips twitched upwards, discarding the innocent façade.

"I'm doing just what you are doing."

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N."

The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine, it rolled off of his tongue in a manner that couldn't be described in any way other than sensual.

"And you aren't?"

He chuckled, licked his lips slowly and then brushed his hair back with his hand, out of frustration. Your naive side had him going insane with desperation, but your bold side had the man wishing to fuck the brat out of you.

"You know what?" He said, taking his hand and softly placing the pads of his fingers right above your knee "I'd love to bend you over this counter and fuck you with this little skirt still on."

His hand trailed up your leg, slowly lifting your bottoms, revealing your white panties with a pink bow in the front. Bucky smirked and chuckled, a small patch of wetness was clearly visible.

"But?..." You questioned, teasing him as you slid one of your thighs between his legs.

"Y/N! How are those chips coming along, dude?" One of the boys yelled from the living room, snapping the two of you into reality.

"Yeah- coming! One second." You responded.

"I guess we'll have to finish this later, Sergeant."

You didn't give him time to respond, as you grabbed the two bowls and walked back into the living room, the wet spot between your legs now larger than ever before, seemingly.

What Bucky was feeling was wrong. He stood there in the kitchen, thinking about you, thinking about how he towered over you and how you looked at him with those eyes that switched back and forth from innocent to fierce, to tease him, to lure him even further.

His pants were tight and his head was filled with thoughts of your body, leaving over and pressing against every surface of that house, with him inside of you.

It was torture, he couldn't handle it anymore, and he couldn't go back into the living room with such and obvious problem - and with the source of the problem sitting so close.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mr. Barnes going up the stairs, with a serious face and a quick pace. No one else seemed to notice, however, as they were too focused on the game.

"I'm going to the bathroom, anyone need anything from the kitchen?" You lied, looking for an excuse to leave the room as quickly as possible without being suspicious.

You had just come back from the kitchen with the chips, so everyone shook their head or mumbled a "no", so you stood up and followed up the stairs, looking out for any noise to find out which door Bucky had gone into.

As you walked down the hallway, you could hear faint grunts that grew closer with each step. Eventually you found the door of what you assumed was his bedroom, and your whole body froze. There was only one door between you, and the thing that you had fantasized for so long.

"Fuck..." You heard him groan from the inside.

Your hand grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned it, as the heat between your legs was too much to bear. You opened the door, just enough to be able to see him sitting on the bed, back against the wall and head leaning back, as his hand stroked his cock.

"Are you enjoying the show?" He asked, continuously jerking his shaft as he lowered his head and looked straight at you, his hair falling beautifully over his face.

Your face was burning up and your heart was racing, but your nerves were nothing compared to the pure hunger and desperation you felt for the man. You stepped into the room, carefully, as if stepping into a wolf's cage, and closed the door behind you.

Bucky watched as you walked over to him, eyes shifting between his hand's movements and his face.

His free hand flew to your hip, slowly guiding you down until you were sitting on his lap, your wet, clothed pussy applying pressure on his cock.

You stared at each other's lips for a very long time. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek and, slowly but surely, brought you closer, until there was no space left between you.

What started out slowly very quickly progressed, and the second your lips connected, his hands were all over your body, gripping you ass and toying with the little skirt he loved so much. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it ever so often as his tongue got bolder.

The two of you pulled apart, your lips were swollen and your eyes were glazed, obviously displaying how much the two of you needed more.

His eyes fell to your lips and he kissed you softly once more before looking up at your eyes.

"We shouldn't do this..." His mouth said something, but the curious fingers that played with the waistband of your panties told you a completely different story.

"Why?" You asked softly, placing small, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to close his eyes and groan.

"My son... Fuck- Andy likes you." Bucky said finally, gripping you tightly as soon as those words left his mouth, as if he thought you'd slip away at the confession.

You kept on kissing his neck, as that confession didn't faze you - if it was something that you would've been over the moon about just a month ago, it was now irrelevant. Bucky came into your life and took over your mind completely, you felt as if every release would feel subpar, unless he was the one helping you reach it.

"You really wanna stop? Hm?" You asked teasingly, as your hips began grinding against his, your wet panties rubbing on his cock.

The conflict on his face was brief, as he eventually threw his head back and let out a low groan. The male gripped your ass cheeks and flipped the two of you over as he attacked your neck.

His hands expertly slid your underwear down your legs, and the male began kissing down your neck, your chest, and your stomach, until he reached your pussy. Bucky teased you for a second, kissing your inner thighs, but he was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel him.

As his tongue begins licking your cunt and circling your clit, your right hand covers your mouth, while the other grips his hair.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing?..." He whispers, after tasting you.

You almost came at those words, the pure filth of the whole situation leaving you dizzy with pleasure.

The man's cock throbbed against the mattress, but he was too drunk in your taste to let go - Bucky wanted to taste as much of you as possible. His tongue slipped in and out of you as he took a break from teasing your clit, and he didn't stop until your back arched, as Bucky wanted to make you cum with his cock.

Bucky's lips met yours once more, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. That kiss was meant to muffle your sinful sounds as he slipped inside of you and slowly pushed himself fully into you. His girth stretched you out in the most satisfying way, and, somehow, the thing you had fantasized about for so long was even better than you had imagined.

He started out slowly, looking into your eyes as if testing the waters, and picked up the pace when he saw you were comfortable enough. Thankfully the TV was loud enough to drown out the echo from the skin slapping sounds, but they wouldn't drown out much more.

Bucky covered your mouth with his hand as his hips snapped against yours at a feral pace - he wanted to make you scream in a way that you wouldn't be heard.

"Want to be a whore? Hm? Parading yourself in front of me with those pretty little skirts thinking I wasn't gonna fuck the shit out of you?"

Your tits bounced to the rhythm of his thrusts, and you thanked for the hand covering your mouth, allowing you to be as mouthy and as loud as you wanted to.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you looking pretty like this, sweetheart." He said, between pants.

Bucky wouldn't last long, as your ever-tightening walls and the erotic look on your face rendered him weak, but thankfully you were also near your climax - he could tell from the way your back arched slightly more by the second.

"Wanna cum for me, baby?" Bucky questioned, removing his hand so you could answer.

"Y-yeah, please, Sir."

He chuckled and smirked at the nickname that, to your credit, did have a nice ring when you were begging under him.

One of Bucky's hands slid between your bodies and circled your clit, until your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your toes curled. You had to bite your lip harshly, to stop yourself from moaning out Bucky's name. The latter pulled out and buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning and panting as he climaxed, spilling all over your stomach.

Knock, knock.

"Hey dad did you see Y/N?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, she had a bit of an accident." Hinting that you had gotten your period "She was embarrassed and didn't want to tell everyone so I told her to just go home."

"Oh... Okay." Andy's voice seemed sad, and you heard

Bucky looked into your eyes before pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"Guess you don't gotta go back down... Plenty of time for another round. Or two."

'minors do not interact' banner credit: @cafekitsune

[hazelira]

love in the details

Jake stirred awake, his eyes blinking open to the soft light filtering through the curtains. He instinctively turned his head to check on the baby and froze. She was lying on her stomach, her tiny face smushed into the mattress, her little body sprawled out in an uncoordinated but somehow adorable position. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, a wild mess from her restless movements in her sleep.

A pang of worry shot through him, his instincts kicking in immediately. “Hey, little one,” he murmured softly as he sat up, careful not to startle her. Gently, he reached over and adjusted her position, turning her onto her side and making sure her face was no longer pressed into the mattress. The last thing he wanted was for her to have trouble breathing.

“There we go,” he said quietly, his voice low and soothing as he ran a hand over her messy hair in an attempt to smooth it down. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her tiny lips parting as she let out a soft sigh. Jake felt his chest tighten at the sight—how could someone so small, so fragile, have such a hold on him?

As his gaze shifted downward, he noticed her socks were slipping off her pudgy little feet, one barely clinging to her toes while the other was halfway off. He shook his head with a faint smile, leaning down to adjust them. “You’re a little troublemaker even when you’re sleeping, huh?” he muttered under his breath, carefully pulling the socks back into place.

Once he was satisfied that she was safe and comfortable, Jake sat back for a moment, his gaze lingering on her. The wild mess of her hair, the way her chubby hands clutched at the blanket beneath her—it was all so chaotic and yet so endearing. He couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him, the sound soft and warm in the quiet room.

He glanced around and realized you weren’t in bed. Your side of the mattress was empty, but you’d strategically placed pillows around the baby, creating a makeshift barrier to keep her from rolling off. It was thoughtful, something he should’ve thought to do himself, and he felt a flicker of guilt at how much you always carried the weight of caring for her, even when you were exhausted.

The faint sound of movement downstairs caught his attention, and he realized you must’ve gone to make breakfast. For a moment, he debated staying in bed to watch over the baby, but the thought of you downstairs alone made him hesitate. You were still recovering from the fever, and he didn’t like the idea of you pushing yourself too hard.

Standing carefully so as not to disturb the baby, Jake pulled the blanket higher over her small frame, making sure she was snug and warm. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, the action instinctive and full of affection.

“You stay put, alright? No more wild sleeping positions,” he murmured softly, as if she could understand. He straightened and took one last look at her before heading toward the door, his footsteps quiet as he made his way downstairs.

The scent of breakfast greeted him as he descended, and he found you in the kitchen, standing at the stove with your back to him. You were moving slowly, clearly still not at full strength, but there was a determined set to your shoulders as you flipped something in the pan.

Jake paused for a moment, taking in the scene. You were wearing one of his oversized shirts, your hair tied back in a loose bun, and even though you looked tired, there was a calmness about you that made something in his chest ache.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, his voice soft as he stepped into the kitchen.

You turned, surprised to see him, and offered a small smile. “You looked like you needed the rest. She kept you up for a while, didn’t she?”

Jake shrugged, leaning against the counter as he watched you. “I don’t mind. She’s... persistent, but I think I’m getting used to it.” He paused, his gaze softening as it lingered on you. “You should’ve stayed in bed. You’re still recovering.”

“I’m fine,” you replied, though your voice lacked conviction. You turned back to the stove, but Jake was already moving.

“Go sit,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Before you could protest, he gently took the spatula from your hand and nudged you toward the table. “I’ll finish this. You need to rest.”

You hesitated, but the look in his eyes—firm yet full of concern—made you relent. With a quiet sigh, you took a seat, watching as Jake effortlessly took over. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. For a man who was often cold and distant, moments like this reminded you that there was more to him beneath the surface.

As he worked, Jake glanced over his shoulder at you. “She’s still sleeping,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But her hair’s a disaster. I think she might’ve inherited that from you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the playful comment made you smile despite yourself. “Maybe she got it from you, Mr. Perfect.”

Jake chuckled softly, the sound light and unguarded. For a moment, the tension between you seemed to melt away, replaced by a quiet, shared understanding. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

@seonhoon @dollrincess @ethanatvre @rei4sunoo @shxhdsstuff @jakeflvrz @laylasbunbunny @jiiyen @saphiranishimurashan @lovelycassy @starry-eyed-bimbo @babyboomysweetie @24svnn @pinkglitterpuke @mellowgalaxystrawberry @heavenki

[hayoomii]

ILYTOW⋆˚࿔

500ish words / tsukishima kei x f!reader

fluff , use of Y/N , sweet kisses , tsukki being pretty cheesy tbh

“Tsukishima…”  Y/N’s voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the quiet melody drifting from the speaker.

“Hm?”  He cocks his head to look at her.  The blond is caught off guard, however, when he notices just how close she is.  And as if it is second nature to him, his gaze flickers down to her lips as quickly as lightning strikes.  Shit, he thinks.  He hopes she didn’t notice.

“What?”  The boy asks more adamantly this time, faux annoyance adorning his features.

She giggles lightly, “You’re really good at that, y’know…”

“Good at what?”  Tsukishima’s eyebrow quirks up.

“Acting mean,” this time her eyes look down at his lips, “but you’re lucky I know better.  You’re too nice to me.”

At this point, the space between them is rapidly closing, and Tsukki only has time to gulp and chuckle nervously before that distance is nonexistent.

Y/N’s lips are soft.  Her kiss is light, and Tsukishima can't help but let out a breath through his nose close enough to a whine.  He doesn't understand how she can make him feel this way so easily.  It's almost like he could start floating at any moment.  Or maybe his heart would race right out of his chest - rushing to burrow itself closer to hers.  Not that he would complain, though.  Deep down, he thinks it’d be happier that way…

Her nose nudges against his as she tilts her head slightly, pressing further into him, now gliding her gentle hands up his chest and around the nape of his neck.  She fiddles with the short blond tendrils there briefly before fully embracing him.

After a few moments, she pulls back.  Tsukshima’s lips subconsciously follow hers – like it’s some natural instinct to keep them melded together – but he’s stopped by a light peck on the tip of his nose.

He opens his eyes this time, lashes fluttering in a daze as he takes in the image before him.

She’s beautiful.

Tsukishima sighs imperceptibly.  He knows if she could read his thoughts she’d smack him for thinking such lies.  But, they’re not lies. And, he wishes, more than anything, for her to believe it too.

“Kei,” he swears he could get drunk just off her voice, “you’re so pretty.”

The boy blinks slowly once, then twice before finally registering her words.  And, without even thinking, the next words slip out of his mouth.

“That’s my line.”

If it were any other man than the one and only Tsukishima Kei, it wouldn’t have been so surprising.  But, it is him, and the shade of red that flushes across Y/N’s entire face, and down past the collar of her shirt, is almost record-breaking for the amount of time it occurred in.  In order to hide her embarrassment quickly, she slumps forward, face resting comfortably in the crook of his neck.

“Stop,” she mumbles, “that was too cheesy…”  Tsukki chuckles at her barely audible statement, trying not to squirm from her tickling breath.

“Don’t try to hide the fact that you liked it.  And, that makes you cheesy,” he whispers directly into her ear, which earns a quiet groan from the girl.

She pulls herself halfway out of her hiding spot but stops to leave a chaste kiss on his jaw.

“You’re stupid,” she says plainly.

“Yeah, yeah.  I love you too, or whatever.”

notes : this is the very first fic i have ever written with the intention of posting, so please be gentle! let me know what you think! i hope to post more in the near future <3

song : Peppers (feat. Tommy Genesis) by Lana Del Rey

Divider from saradika-graphics !

[nina-ya]

Synopsis: You sought Ace out for warmth but his wandering hands and needy pleads end with a quickie against the railing of the Moby Dick. Pairing: Ace x AFABreader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI, Hints of temperature play, P in V sex, Ace is needy, creampie, Ace is a little shit, his freckles light up while fucking you. • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

The night air was so sharp and brittle that it seemed to bite at your skin with every breath. The Moby Dick creaked and groaned as the chill of the ocean worked its way through every seam. No matter how tightly you bundled yourself in your blankets, the cold persisted, creeping into your bones like an uninvited guest. Sleep was distant and taunting you. 

With a shiver that rattled your teeth, you finally had enough and decided to look for the next best source of warmth. Ace was on lookout duty, a job he never seemed to mind especially since his fiery warmth makes him the perfect candidate for tasks on frigid nights like this one. 

You made your way out to the deck, your hands wrapped tightly around yourself. The cold hit you full force as you emerged and you hissed softly, your steps faltering against the icy deck. Ace stood at the ship’s railing, his back to you, hat tipped low as he leaned over the edge. His shoulders were relaxed, though his eyes scanned the ocean for any and all threats. 

“Ace,” you called out, your voice carrying over the whisper of the waves. He turned, dark eyes glinting with the faintest hint of surprise before softening at the sight of your shivering form.

“Can’t sleep?” he guessed, tone warm despite the cold. He straightened and beckoned you closer, a smile tugging at his lips. “Let me guess-- too cold?”

You nodded, your chattering teeth making a verbal response unnecessary. Ace chuckled softly, his laughter like the crackle of firewood. Without even thinking, he opened his arms, motioning you forward. 

“C’mere,” he said simply. You obliged immediately, walking right into his open arms and pressing yourself flush against his chest. The heat of him immediately radiated throughout your body, as though you had stepped right into the heart of a flame. You exhaled shakily, the relief so sudden it felt like your body might melt into his. 

Ace turned toward the railing, positioning you between him and the edge. His arms wrapped around you in a loose hold, his hands instinctively tracing warm patterns wherever his fingertips met your body. The heat seeped into you, warming your frozen fingers and thawing the ache in your chest. You sighed in contentment, leaning your head back to rest against him. 

The wind tore through the air, stinging your face and pricking at any exposed skin with merciless precision. Despite Ace’s warmth, the gusts crept into the gaps, chilling you to the bone all over again. You burrowed closer into his chest, chasing his heat. His hands, though initially resting innocently enough on your sides, had begun a wandering exploration. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that this was the most alone time you had gotten all week, or perhaps he was just an easy man to rile up, but his touches had grown to suggest a deeper hunger simmering beneath the surface. His fingers lingered longer than necessary, tightening slightly when they reached the plush of your ass, and his breath, warm against your temple, came heavier, hotter. 

When you muttered through shivering lips, “I’m so cold,” Ace leaned in, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear as he murmured, “I can find a way to keep you warm,” in a tone rough and full of implication. His fingers curled against your sides, pressing you tighter against him. 

“Ace,” you giggled, trying to get him to maintain his composure. “You’ve got a job to do.”

“And I’m doing it,” he quipped, his voice dripping with mischief as his hands slid to rest on the curve of your hips. “I’m just doing a little something called multitasking.”

Your reply died on your tongue when he tilted his head and pressed his lips to your neck. The kiss was searing against the chill of your skin, and it sent shivers through you for an entirely different reason. His mouth moved, planting slow, deliberate kisses along the line of your throat, each one lingering just long enough to make you yearn for the heat that came with each press of his lips.

Ace’s hands were never idle. One snaked up your torso, sliding beneath your layers. Burning fingertips grazed your stomach, then trailed higher, cupping your breast and pulling a gasp from you. The heat from his palm seeped through you, chasing away the cold, and when his thumb brushed over your cold-hardened nipple, the mewl that spilled from your lips only spurred him on. 

“Still cold?” he teased, voice thick with need as he nipped at your neck. The heat emanating from him only seemed to intensify, flashes of hot radiating from his hands and mouth like he was stoking  a flame specifically for you. 

“Ace,” you whined, trying to keep your voice steady, though it came out much shakier than intended. “We’re on the deck.”

“And no one’s around,” he countered, a grin audible in his words as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you firmly against his growing erection. “Just you, me, and the stars.”

He continued his sensual assault on your neck, mouth alternating between kisses and teasing bites. The sharp contrast between his heat and the icy wind was dizzying, leaving your head spinning and your body responding to every flicker of warmth he offered. 

Ace’s hands roamed lower, teasing as they skated over the waistband of your pants, then back up to squeeze your hips. The cool night air licked at your exposed skin, but every inch of you seemed to burn hotter. He adjusted his stance, grinding his hips into you with a neediness that made your breath hitch. 

“Please,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he buried his face into the curve of your neck. The desperation in his tone was unguarded, raw. “Can I? Please? I promise I’ll be quick.”

The railing pressed into your stomach and you turned your head to glance at him, his freckled face bathed in moonlight, dark eyes heavy-lidded with longing. You shakily sighed, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his touch. 

He nipped at the shell of your ear before dragging his tongue along the curve of your neck. His hand slipped lower, tugging at your pants slowly. Your pants and underwear pooled around your knees and the sensation of his heated palms gripping your thighs, erasing any other thoughts. 

His hands spread you open, the rough pads of his fingers exploring every inch of you as though committing it to memory. You gasped as his fingers pressed against your slick core, impatiently circling your clit and thrusting a finger or two inside to make sure you’re at least somewhat prepared to take the needy man that’s making you gasp and tremble. 

You heard the unmistakable zrrt of his zipper sliding down, the sound cutting through sharp and foreboding. He was too close, and yet not close enough. His body was a furnace, burning hotter with every passing second, making you feel like you were on the verge of being consumed by flame. 

He leaned back to get a better view of your core as he aligned himself with you, the tip of him rubbing against your slick entrance to lubricate himself. And with a sigh, he pushed forward, entering you with one slow, deliberate thrust. You gasped at the sensation, his hot, throbbing cock filling you in ways that made your body burn just as hot as his. It was almost too much - the overwhelming heat of his body, the fire in his touch, and the harsh, desperate way he was moving. His hips snapped and met yours, pulling a yelp from you as you shifted against the railing. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible as his hips began to move, each thrust harder than the last. The rhythm he set was relentless, each thrust faster and more desperate than the last. One of his hands gripped your hips, bouncing you on his cock while the other wrapped around your torso, his hand landing on your breast and kneading the soft flesh while simultaneously making sure you don’t fall over the railing. The warmth from his body intensified, his bare chest searing against your clothed skin, his palms rouch and seething with his powers, and the contrast with the biting cold outside made you feel like you were in the eye of a storm. 

The molten lava of his touch moved beneath your skin, the heat utterly intoxicating. Each thrust had you whimpering and whining as the head of his cock bullied your insides over and over again. 

You tossed your head back and looked up at the man inside of you, eyes now fixated on the faint glow around his face. Ace leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss, slowing down his movements to taste and feel you. He rolled his hips slower, deeper into you while his tongue explored your mouth, and when he pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips momentarily before it snapped. 

You panted, tongue barely lolling out of your mouth as you looked closer at the glow of his face, the source of it being his freckles. The dots across his face transformed before your eyes into what looked like tiny embers scattered across his cheeks. It was like watching a wildfire take over, the heat from his body so intense that it turned him into something more than human, something untouchable, and yet here he was with you– inside you– pushing you to the brink of madness.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way it coiled with raw power, and you knew that he was close. His breaths came faster, deeper, the heat of his fire licking at your skin, stroking the flames of desire that blazed between you two. His face twisted with the effort, his lips parted as he groaned your name, and you could see that final spark of control slip from his grasp. 

With one last harsh thrust, he came undone. His cock pulsed deep inside you, his body stiffening as he released hot, sticky ropes of his essence inside of you. His freckled skin glowed with a fierce intensity as the embers across his face flared brightly, a last beautiful burst of fire before he collapsed against you, his breath ragged and unsteady.

But you weren’t done yet. You had your own needs. You rocked your hips against his pulsing cock, desperate for more even as he softened inside of you and whimpered with the bursts of overstimulation you were providing him. Ace was far too exhausted to move but unwilling to leave you fulfilled, so he let his hands wander, snaking between your legs to give attention to that sensitive bundle of nerves as he let you rock yourself against his half-hard cock. 

Even as his heat dissipated, the heat building in your core seemed to grow. Your body trembled as the pleasure grew and grew, hands gripping the railing until your knuckles turned white. Ace’s fingers circled your clit with a maddening precision, your body wracked with the tremors of your rising orgasm. 

“Come on, just a little more, you got this,” he urged, voice laced with exhaustion. And with that, you shattered. It was like the stars exploded inside of you, each breath a gasp as your body locked around him. 

“Ace!” you cried, your nails digging into the railing, your body quaking with the force of the pleasure. He didn’t stop, not for a second, pushing you further into the bliss of it all. And as the last wave of pleasure hit you, your body sagged against the railing, breathless and spent as your shaky arms held yourself up.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of your breathing as you calmed down from the intensity. Ace’s fingers gently traced patterns across your skin as the warmth in his body finally began to subside. 

You were the one to break the comfortable silence, asking- no, whining- “How am I supposed to get back to bed with… all this… down my thighs?”

Ace hummed in thought, and then you felt him bend down and suddenly, Ace lifted your pants, hiking them up to contain the mess. You blinked, baffled by his sudden practicality. “Really?!” you hissed, smacking his arm as you stood, the action sending a faint throb through your body. 

“Is it not a good idea?” he chuckled, amused by your reaction as he tucked himself back to his pants. 

You shot him a glare as you attempted to properly stand so you could scurry back to your room to change your clothes, only for your legs to give out beneath you, and Ace was quick to catch you. He chuckled again, holding you securely in his arms as you groaned in defeat. 

“I think I’m gonna stay here for a minute,” you muttered, resigned. 

Ace grinned at you, holding you a little tighter as the two of you lingered until the cold air finally started to settle in, but you knew he wouldn’t let you freeze tonight, and you sure as hell felt that silent promise as his powers flared up once again to keep you warm in his arms.

[arminslovurrr]

"aita for purposely flirting with a waitress to make my gf mad so i could fuck her attitude away after?" is what asshole!suguru was typing on reddit, a cunning grin plastered on his face as he laid next to your sleeping frame, your arm slung over his chest, a bit of drool slipping past your slightly agape swollen lips. squinting a bit as his phone screen illuminating a white beam on his face.

you caught an attitude after your “sweet” boyfriend suguru who intentionally flirted with a waitress at a cafe you were so excited to take him to. like !?! he blatantly called the waitress pet names that he'd only call you, giving her the sweetest smiles, talking in the smoothest tone then tipping her very generously.

not to even get you started, but did she think you didn't see the way she eyed your man with big doe, occasionally batting her long eyelashes at him, suddenly speaking to him in a honeyed tone, leaning across the table to place sugurus alfredo infront of him, purposely showing the valley of her breast through her unbuttoned uniform shirt. steam was practically coming out of both of your ears, but like the classy girl suguru knew you were, you kept your mouth shut. only mugging her slightly, folding your arms across your chest, sighing loudly n rolling your eyes when she'd ask if suguru needed anything. just wanting to go home and tune suguru out

n what really pissed you off is how he kept trying to converse with you after the stunt he pulled !?! so obviously you ignored him on the car ride home while he asked you "what's wrong" he knows what's wrong!?! n then he’d ramble on about how the cafe was just lovely n how the waitress was so sweet ! it was like he wanted to see a vein about to bulge on your forehead. your eyebrows furrowed, arms folded over your chest, legs facing away from him as you stared out the window. when he tried to rest his hand on ur thigh, he'd glance at you then snicker at ur actions before returning his attention to the road with a small smile on his face

once you got home he gave you one more chance for you to tell him ur woes but instead you stomped away to your shared bedroom. making sure to slam the door behind you.

now he has you folded into a mating press, your legs bent and pressed against your chest as he held his forehead against yours, his breath lightly fanning your face. his pelvis pressed flush against the back of your thighs as he gave you achingly slow strokes, his eyes trained on the lewd expression plastered on your pretty face. he’d keep you on the edge of a mind blowing release, patiently waiting for you to tell him what’s wrong because asshole! suguru just has nooooo idea what he did !!??

you'd fight to keep your eyes open, your mouth slightly agape as pretty lil symphony's rush out of past ur lips "s-suguu- mmmngghh!" you whimpered, staring up at him with now half lidded eyes as his bulbous tip grazed your cervix.

"mhmm.. you gonna let me show you how sorry i am? hm?" he asked you lowly, when you didn't respond due to how intense you were feeling he'd slap you cheek "f-fuh.. oh my gosh-" you sigh not being able to finish ur sentence because of the constant drag of his length in ur confined gummy walls. "speak up sweetie, can't understand you- anghh" he groans as u rack ur nails through his inky strands. "i-i said.." you inhale trying to collect any sense that you still have "fuck youuuu shiiittt…." you groaned when he reached down to toy with your clit. “oh you dont mean that, sweet girl” he cooed as he reeled himself back slightly to stare down at where you two connected.

pulling his hips back to watch as a milky mixture of you both oozes down his pale cock. slowly pushing in and out, occasionally speeding up to get a reaction out of you. a gentle left hand caressing the apple of your cheek before giving it a firm slap, whilst his right thumb hooks under your swollen clit, flicking it up and down gently. “jus be a big hngh- girl n tell me what i did” his breath hitches, teetering on the edge of release as he’d been edging both you and him !!

"fuh-flirtin' with that girl right infrunna m-me.." he chuckles before sucking in a sharp breath at the active clench of your slick pussy. "c-cmon baby" his hips stutter, knowing he's nearing his peak. "you know im sorry, right?" he stares at you with hooded glossy eyes, his left hand coming back up to softly graze you cheek. "forgive me 'n you can cum on this cock, baby." for a second you'd probably think he was actually feeling really.. really apologetic, but knowing suguru he'd probably do it again just to have you in this position once more.

after being edged for so, so long, the word 'cum' leaving his mouth is all you want to hear from him right now. "fine! i f-forgive you sugu!" you cry out feeling him angle his hips up, so each stroke causes his fat cock to poke at that rugged, spongy part deep inside of you. white hot pleasure blinding you, "sa silent scream barely leaves your mouth before suguru presses his lips against yours. his long tongue finding yours as he sucks on it, moaning loudly in your mouth as he pushes you into overstimulation from his nonstop pounding.

if you were to open your eyes to see his face, you be met with a enchantingly chaotic sight. his long inky longs messier than usual, thin eyebrows furrowed with focus, with the prettiest rosy color wiping over his face. he looked pathetic. with one more gasp of your name against your lips, stilling his hips, hot splurts of his creamy seed spills into your awaiting womb, filling up ur tummy with warm ribbons of him. you whine feeling the warmth of him engulf you as he lets his body weight sink onto you.his once stiff cock, comfortable going limp inside of you. his cock acting as plug, keeping his seed snuggly inside of your gooey insides. he sighs deeply, nuzzling his face into your hair as the two of you bask in the afterglow of jealousy sex.

your eyes begin to fall heavy, wanting to succumb to sleep. "do you really forgive me, sweetie?" suguru teasing murmurs into your hair with a sleazy smile that you could pratically hear in that sentence plastered on his stupid face.

"fuck off."

an: suguru is unironically a reddit user, prove me wrong !! anywho yall finally get a work from me after months lololol, there’s no telling when i’ll be back but as always i love yallllllll

© arminslovurr 2023-25 , do not copy, translate, make ai chat bots or alter my work in any way.

[erenstitanweave]

❥HOW WE LOVE III

pairing: various x reader (vi, caitlyn, vander)

rating: giving/receiving love language headcanons

a/n: so, this is officially a new series! please keep in mind this will be my first time writing for all upcoming characters, respectful criticism and advice on how to write them is welcome! SPOILER ALERT!! reblogs and comments are appreciated, hope you enjoy!!

VI

giving:

poor vi, her eldest daughter syndrome bleeds through every aspect of her life (relatable but we move on)

all jokes (are we joking though??) aside, i think vi would be hesitant to love quickly or even love at all

vi isn't someone who shows her love through words though, so i feel like if she really began to care and love you, she would show it though her actions

i feel like her main type of acts of service would be protecting you in some manner, whether it be verbally or physically

she's genuinely afraid of losing you, so the protective nature would be slightly overbearing in cases where she's on the edge, but other than that, it's pretty standard.

quality time is another big one for her, not just because it's also a way for her to trust you, but because she'd quite literally just want to get to know you better

i could see this being the case whether or not you live the same type of life (i.e: being a zaunite or not)

i feel like she's seen enough to know that regardless of what side you're on, experiences vary for everyone, and she'd just want to know yours and through that, open up to you

small side tangent, but she's TOUCHY.

once she's attached to you, so are her hands. they quite literally are always on you in some way, whether that be through subtle touches (i.e: letting her hand graze against your side when she walks past you, her hands lingering too long as she's holding you, etc.) or through much more obvious ones like an arm wrapped around your waist

receiving:

although she is a protecter by nature, this causes her to be very wary of people and not very trusting of just anyone

i feel like she wouldn't just prefer acts of service but she would need it in order for her to begin to trust you

acts of service, subconsciously or not, are vital to slowly letting down her walls and letting her become trust worthy of you, but once they're down, it's game over

we see in the show how she is once she trusts someone, she shakes off the shell she shows the world and just becomes herself.

i feel like she'd love someone who can't keep their hands off her (except in the obvious situations)

even lingering gazes would make this girl WEAK and she knows it, so just imagine what having your hands all over her does to her brain (short answer: she short circuits)

much like vander, i think a part of her craves words of affirmation because of how her past mistakes constantly haunt and consume her being

even though a part of her knows it isn't her fault things turned out the way it did, a part of her mind won't allow her to believe it

even if she never might truly believe or accept this fact, hearing you tell her good things about herself and praise her makes her head spin with this feeling she can't explain, but all she knows is that it's one she'd never let go

VANDER

giving:

vander to me is probably one of the more protective characters in the show and i think his love languages in terms of giving reflect that heavily

i personally think he'd adore quality time the most, being the man he is, he doesn't really get much time to himself outside of his kids and dealing with the Lanes

it doesn't really matter what kind of quality time to him either imo, i think he'd be most comfortable with just being in your presence, even if you two aren't saying anything

one of his favorites moments though, is seeing you with his kids

he adores seeing you with them, the sight warming his heart knowing the family he works so hard to keep together is happy

words of affirmation i can see being another huge one for him, he'd definitely let you know that you're doing good in whatever you may be doing or even just making it through each day

he'd often pull you aside to let you know though, wanting his words to only be for you and not the prying eyes of others (or the kids potentially listening in on you both)

i could see vander being into physical touch, but only very slightly if it's in public

if you were behind the bar with him, he'd ever so slightly graze the small of your back with his palm or subtly grab onto your waist as he cleaned off the bar

he's an asshole though (lovingly, of course) and would do this especially if you were talking to someone just to get a laugh out of it

he'd be extra careful with this though, as he knows that he constantly has eyes on him, ones that could be dangerous to you if he overdoes his affections

receiving:

i could see vander loving words of affirmation in return, he definitely needs to hear that he's doing a good job taking care of his kids (especially when he feels like they fuck up because of him)

i also can see him holding a lot of doubts about past decisions in all aspects, so just hearing you tell him that he's doing good and that everything will be alright grounds him more than anything

even just telling him that he's a good father, even with his faults and past mistakes will make him feel so much better, no doubt making him fall for you even more than he thought possible

he's the biggest sucker for physical touch too, especially really subtle ones just for the two of you

don't get him wrong, he loves big gestures of physical affection, but he's not alone with you often, making the subtle ones happen a lot more often

he definitely loves holding hands and interlocking fingers especially, the latter being the one you two do more often when around most people

but when the last drop is closed to outsiders and is usually just benzo, the kids, and yourselves, he's all over you

he'll mostly have you in his lap if you're not off with the kids, or just hugging you from behind

CAITLYN

giving:

this girl is a bit of a tough one for me i won't even lie, but she's very well meaning in most aspects

i feel like she'd be into quality time and gift giving honestly

hear me out though, living in piltover her whole life and only recently seeing for herself how the world is and how things can change in an instant makes me think she'd gravitate towards spending time with you in one way or another

it doesn't even have to be explicitly spending time together either, just the fact that you'd be near her would be enough, especially if you're close enough to where she could protect you if need be

her protective nature is one reason why time with you is so sacred to her, not only that she'd be able to cherish her time with you, but that she'd truly be able to appreciate life in it's entirety

the gift giving aspect simply stems from her being wealthy (well not really)

i just see her as someone who expresses herself and what she wants to say with actions, and those actions are gifts

doesn't matter what you like honestly, she'd get it somehow. luxurious clothes? boom, right there on your shared bed. foods or sweets? she somehow has the entire stock right in front of you with a small smile on her face

both of these, to me, just stem from her innate desire to make you happy

she wants to give her lover the world, and with all she's seen in such a short amount of time after being spoonfed certain things about the world, she wants to make sure you're happy with her for as long as you both live

receiving:

receiving is a slight improvement but honestly she screams physical touch and words of affirmation yearner

think about it, being as skilled as she is, she's probably gotten praise about it from everyone

from you, though? it's way different in her mind, especially if you actually talk about why you give her the praises you do

she's expected the praise by now, but to her, it'd feel different because with you, it didn't feel..obligatory or forced

it wouldn't feel like the stuffy, fake pleasantries she'd be used to being in such a high place of power all her life, but something much more sincere and loving

she'd crave it, even going so far as to push herself beyond her limits just to hear you praise and support her for doing so

physical touch to me is another big one for her, i could see touching being a huge factor for her simply because of the intimacy

she most likely has never had anyone as close to her as her lover, so the sheer intimacy with even the slightest of touches knowing that she will only allow this from you is mindblowing for her in the best ways possible

[multi-fandom-imagine]

꧂ 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓨𝓾𝓵𝓮 𝓑𝓪𝓵𝓵 || With Fred & George Weasley ||

• Fred Weasley•

Fred Weasley leaned casually against the stone wall in the corridor, waiting for you to finish speaking with your friends. His twin, George, had teased him mercilessly about his sudden interest in making a grand gesture, but Fred had waved him off with a grin. This was his moment, and he was going to make it memorable.

As you turned and spotted him, Fred straightened, a mischievous sparkle lighting up his brown eyes. “Ah, just the person I was looking for!” he said, stepping forward with his signature grin.

You raised an eyebrow, used to his antics but curious nonetheless. “What are you up to, Weasley?” Your head tilting to the side as a smile tugged that the corner of your lips.

“Me? Up to something? Never,” he said, feigning innocence, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Actually, I came to ask you something important. Very serious business.”

"Is that so?"

Fred pulled a small, glittering box out of his pocket and held it up dramatically. “I’ve been pondering this for ages—well, alright, a few days, but who’s counting?” He winked as he flicked the lid open to reveal a miniature dancing figure of the two of you, twirling to music only it could hear.

Your eyes widened, a laugh escaping before you could help it. “What is this?” It was cute, something you weren't expecting from the prankster and you were honesty curious on how he even made something like this.

“This,” Fred said with a flourish, “is me asking if you’d like to go to the Yule Ball with me. Because, you know, I could ask anyone, but you’re the only one who actually makes me nervous enough to think I need to bribe you with tiny enchanted figurines.”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, his usual bravado softened by a flicker of hope in his eyes. “And if I say yes, do I get to keep this?” You asked stepping closer to the tall redhead.

Fred smirked. “Say yes, and I’ll throw in free dances all night. But if you’re not impressed, I’ll just have to figure out a bigger way to win you over.”

Holding back your laughter you pretending to think it over. “Well, I suppose I could do worse than free dances and enchanted figurines. Alright, Weasley, you’ve got yourself a date.”

His grin widened as he slipped the box into your hand. “Brilliant! I promise, you won’t regret it. Unless, of course, I step on your toes. But in that case, I’ll make it up to you with snacks—courtesy of the kitchens....and I do know the best way to get into the kitchens”

Fred offered you an exaggerated bow before walking backward down the corridor, still grinning. “See you at the Ball, partner!”

As he turned the corner, you couldn’t help but shake your head, laughing to yourself. Leave it to Fred Weasley to make something as simple as an invitation into a moment you’d never forget.

•George Weasley•

George Weasley had never been one to back down from a challenge, but this was different. As he leaned casually against the cool stone wall of the dungeon corridor, his usual confidence faltered. His eyes darted toward the approaching figure—a Slytherin girl who had caught his attention far more than he cared to admit.

“Alright, Weasley, you’ve got this,” he muttered under his breath, though his palms felt clammy, betraying his nerves.

As you approached, your head tipped to the side,your sharp green and silver tie standing out against your robes, George straightened up. You were used to the Weasley twins’ antics, but George’s nervous energy was unmistakable today. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, his usual grin not quite reaching his eyes.

“Hey! Fancy running into you here,” he began, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. “Though I suppose it’s not that surprising, what with this being…you know, the Slytherin common room corridor and all.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “You’re not lost, are you, Weasley?”

“Me? Lost? Nah.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, maybe a little. Not geographically, of course. Just, uh, trying to find the courage for something.”

Your curiosity piqued, your lips twitching into a smile watching him. “Go on.”

George cleared his throat and finally looked you in the eyes, his freckled cheeks faintly pink. “So, the Yule Ball is coming up. Big fancy event, lots of music, dancing, snogging under enchanted mistletoe—” He stopped himself, realizing he was rambling. “Anyway, I thought… well, I was wondering if you’d want to go with me?”

Your lips then curved into a smirk, enjoying his rare moment of vulnerability, it was cute, seeing someone who's usually so confidant become a stuttering mess. “You, a Gryffindor, want to take a Slytherin to the Yule Ball? What would your brother say?”

“Oh, Fred would love it. He’s already got bets going about whether I’d manage to ask you,” George admitted with a sheepish grin, the tension easing slightly.

You considered him for a moment, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make him sweat. Then, finally, you smiled—genuinely this time. “Alright, Weasley. I’ll go with you. But don’t expect me to let you off easy if you step on my toes while dancing.”

His face lit up, his grin wide and relieved. “Deal. Just be prepared for the best dance of your life.” He gave you a wink though his body stiffened when you placed your lips against his cheek.

"See you around Weasley." Giving him your own wink you waved him off as you walked away and as you turned toward the entrance to the Slytherin House, George let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He might have been nervous, but at least now he had something to look forward to—showing the whole school just how well a Gryffindor and a Slytherin could dance together.

[velvet-apricots]

I was encouraged to write a drabble of this idea I had here

Summary: Lucanis can tell that Rook has a thing for Emmrich. Emmrich, however, seems to be very unaware of her attraction. That is until Spite speaks up.

It was happening again.

He had been talking to Emmrich again. For as bizarre as Lucanis found the concepts of raising the dead, the man was good to talk to. It was refreshing to have another to help with Spite, to have a calm firm hand that could get the demon to behave or stop pestering with questions that Lucanis could not answer, or could not answer in a satisfactory way.

That, and Spite just seemed to refuse to believe him out of… Well, spite.

“The moment I told him how soap was made, he insisted I take a bite.”

Emmrich tutted, leaning on his staff and directing his eyes to the demon as he hovered behind Lucanis’s shoulder. “Oh that would be most unpleasant, Spite. I assure you. The saponification process completely changes the composition of the animal fat. It tastes terrible.”

“How do you know?” Spite hissed.

Emmrich shrugged. “I have gotten soap in my mouth once or twice while bathing.”

And then, almost like clock work, Rook was suddenly there, slipping into the conversation. “What is saponification?” she asked, playing with her fingers as she gave Emmrich a little sweet smile, one she never gave to any of the rest of them. 

Rook liked hearing Emmrich talk. She liked seeing him move his hands. She liked looking at him. Her voice would get higher, and she would jut her hip out as she nervously fiddled with something, be it her fingers or her hair. It was very obvious that she was attracted to the older man, looking for any excuse to speak to him. It was like watching a love sick teenager.

And Emmrich seemed oblivious. Politefully so, but still very oblivious. Either that, or he was keeping up a professional decorum.

And so Lucanis now watched them: Emmrich explaining how saponification was the process of “cleaving esters into carboxylate salts and alcohols by the action of aqueous alkali”. Rook looking at Emmrich so intensely that she might as well be trying to undress him with her eyes. Staring at him from under her lashes with a little stupid grin, clearly not actually even hearing what he was saying.

Meirda, she is practically lusting over the man. How does Emmrich not see that? Lucanis thought, giving a humored smirk.

And then Spite spoke. He spoke and Lucanis wanted nothing more than to be struck down by the Maker himself.

“They should get a room. Together.”

Rook of course heard nothing. But Lucanis watched as Emmrich’s brows went up, watched as he turned to look at Spite, his ears and cheeks ever so slightly going pink as he gave a bewildered, open mouthed stare.

“I beg your pardon?” Emmrich asked.

Lucanis closed his eyes, cringing visibly from embarrassment. “Ignore him-”

“No! Do not ignore me! Take her to the bedroom! It’s what she wants!”

Emmrich took a scolding tone, face now going from pink to red.“Take her to-? Spite that is incredibly inappropriate.”

“What is Spite saying?” Rook asked, leaning back as both Lucanis and Emmrich turned sharply to her to say the same thing.

“Nothing.”

Emmrich ran his hand through his hair, looking very uncomfortable and now no longer able to look at Rook at all. “I think I will go make sure Manfred is not getting into any trouble” He mumbled, turning and quickly walking away. Rook followed him, switching from love sick to concerned leader.

Her concern would only make Emmrich feel even more uncomfortable.

“And I will throw myself into a cup of coffee, and possibly off the side of the courtyard.” Lucanis mumbled, turning in the opposite direction and quickly speed walking away. He would have to apologize-

“Do not apologize! I helped!” Spite protested, “He knows now!”

-Apologize to Emmrich.

[joelmillerisapunk]

OH MY GOD??? The intensity here is unreal. This fic punches you in the gut and refuses to let go, it’s suffocating in the best way. The tension between the reader and Javier is so raw, so visceral, it feels like you’re standing in the room with them, choking on the unbearable weight of heartbreak and desire. The intricate web of emotions is just chef's kiss—anger, betrayal, obsession, need—it’s all laid bare, tangled in this messy, intoxicating relationship.

The prose is so vivid and detailed that you can practically feel the damp heat of the shower, the sharp sting of the reader’s heartbreak, and the way Javier’s presence overwhelms everything like a tidal wave. The moral ambiguity is written so perfectly—it’s masochistic, it’s destructive, but it’s also undeniably human.

The way the story captures Javier’s complexity—his arrogance, his fragility—is pure poetry. And the reader’s inner turmoil? That delicate balance of anger and longing, her refusal to let go even when she knows she should? It’s painfully relatable in the best (and worst) way.

The sex isn’t just sex—it’s this volatile, emotional battleground where their love and hate collide. It’s messy, flawed, and oh-so-human. The power dynamics, the desperation, the unspoken confessions buried in every kiss, every thrust—this is messy, it’s painful, it’s addictive. You’ve written something that just lingers with you long after reading. Freckles!!!! You’ve wrecked me, and I’m thanking you for it. Honestly, I need a cigarette (I don't smoke), a drink, and maybe therapy after this. Some of my fave lines cause the entire thing is my favorite <3

You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationship Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground. His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable. You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart You come, weeping. Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.But there’s no hope anymore. You know you can’t go on like that.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel. There will be two broken hearts.  You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. None of this happens. The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[cherry-smokes]

Can't keep my eyes hands off of you.

AKA the time this title spoke for itself. Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 750 Note: This lives within the Sugar and Steve universe but can definitely be read as a stand alone blurb! Warnings: drinking, PDA, and Sugar and Steve getting a little hot and heavy at the bar. Nothing crazy but please MNDI!!!!! 18+

Your skin feels slick. The air is humid and your shirt sticks to your skin. You smell like sweat and beer thanks to Eddie. When you all walked off stage your lovely, doting, proud boyfriend greeted you with a round of beers. One of which Eddie grabbed, opened, and proceeded to swing around in celebration of a good fucking show. You can't blame him. It was a really good show. The kind that has your blood pumping and your confidence at an all time high.

Despite all of the sweat and beer, all of these things scream sex appeal because apparently Steve can’t keep his paws off of you. You’re trying to stay engaged in the story Robins sharing with the group but he’s pressed against your back and his chin is digging into your shoulder. He reaches around you, covering your hand with his own as he guides you to bring your beer up to his lips.

You give him the meanest side eye, your eyebrows scrunch together and he smiles slightly making some beer drip down his chin. You think you must be a sick twisted person because you get the urge to lean in and clean him off yourself.

“Can you stop eye-fucking each other, I’m still talking you know?”

You quickly pull your beer away accidentally knocking against Steve’s front teeth. You flinch and reach your empty hand up to his mouth to soothe the ache. He slightly bites your fingers and you pull back before he can get any ideas, or maybe before you do.

“Shit! Sorry. Sorry Robin I’m listening- we’re listening.”

Steve wipes his chin on your shirt and looks up at Robin.

“I definitely wasn’t.”

You elbow him softly causing him to grunt and lean forward even more.

Eddie wraps an arm around Robin and starts guiding everyone to the pin ball machines across the room.

“C’mon Buckley. We can finish the story away from these goddamn heathens.”

You flip him off as they walk away before turning towards your wounded boyfriend.

“You’re so mean to me baby.”

The way he says it makes you almost believe him. Yet, he has this hungry look in his eyes and his big hands feel tight on your waist.

“Mhm. You like it when I’m mean.”

He nods gently, one of his hands moves towards your belt buckle. He grabs it harshly and pulls you towards him, chests pressed against each other as his other hand travels to settle itself in your back pocket.

If you were a more...discreet person you would push him away. You'd blush and look away and follow your friends to play those loud creaky pinball machines. You aren't a discreet person though.

You let Steve pull you in and kiss the fucking daylights out of you. He's so warm against you. He doesn't hesitate to let his tongue ease over your bottom lip and he groans when you meet him halfway with ardency. He lets out a soft groan, you feel the rumble of his chest against your own as his hand grips you through your jeans. You can't help but reach up to grab onto the collar of his shirt, pulling at it as if you could be any closer to him. The tips of your fingers graze the coarse hair on his chest and you're burning.

The hand he had on your belt finally lets go and travels upwards. He grazes your shirt, slightly riding it up as he trails his hand up to the back of your head. His lips are desperate against yours, and you can feel his breath hitting your face as he inhales and exhales deeply, trying to avoid leaning away as much as possible.

You beat him to it however. Yearning to look at your sweet, desperate, pretty boy. You lean back and see that his eyes are hooded, lips swollen and red. You realize now that it isn't the adrenaline from playing a show that's got you hot and bothered. It's him.

"Where'd you go baby?"

Baby. Babybabybaby, you go crazy when he calls you that. Baby, honey, sweetheart, Sugar. All things that sound so sweet. You want to take him away from this bar and be anything but sweet to him.

"I didn't go anywhere. Do you want to go somewhere big guy?"

His eyes go wide, his mouth drops a little and he suddenly looks like a teenager who just saw tits for the first time before he speaks.

"God, yes."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[aghost-writer]

The Prank and the Apology

Jujutsu Kaisen: Omega Satoru Gojo x Female Alpha Reader

Satoru pranks Y/N by staging a fake injury, causing her to panic before realizing it’s a joke, which leaves her upset and worried. After a heartfelt apology, Satoru promises not to repeat his prank, and they share a quiet, bonding moment, with Satoru offering dinner as a way to make it up to her.

The sun was setting over Tokyo, casting warm hues across the city as the day came to a close. Inside Jujutsu High’s common room, Omega Gojo Satoru lounged lazily on the couch, a smug grin stretched across his face. His snow-white hair was slightly tousled, his blindfold pushed up to rest on his forehead, revealing his dazzling blue eyes. He twirled a small paper crane between his fingers, looking every bit as pleased with himself as ever.

Across the room, Alpha Y/N was sitting at the desk, going over some reports. Her sharp eyes scanned the pages with practiced efficiency, her posture straight and composed. Despite her focus, she was acutely aware of the omega lounging nearby.

Satoru always seemed to radiate a playful energy, one that was equal parts charming and frustrating. She loved him dearly, but his mischievous streak often made her life more complicated than it needed to be.

As if on cue, Satoru cleared his throat dramatically. “Y/N,” he called, his voice sing-song and teasing.

“What is it, Satoru?” she replied without looking up, her tone exasperated but affectionate.

“I was just thinking…” he began, drawing out his words.

“Dangerous,” she muttered under her breath.

He ignored her and continued, “It must be so hard for you, being around someone as gorgeous and talented as me. How do you cope?”

Y/N snorted, finally glancing up at him. “I don’t. I suffer daily.”

Satoru gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Alpha!”

“Uh-huh,” she said, turning back to her reports.

Unbeknownst to her, Satoru’s grin turned wicked. He had been planning a prank for days now, something harmless but guaranteed to get under her skin. After all, wasn’t it an omega’s job to keep their alpha on their toes?

He waited until Y/N was fully engrossed in her work before slipping out of the room. Moving quickly and quietly, he set his plan into motion.

About fifteen minutes later, Y/N finally stood from the desk, stretching her arms over her head. The reports were done, and she was ready to relax.

“Satoru,” she called, looking around the room. “Where did you go?”

There was no response.

Frowning, she walked toward the kitchen, only to find a suspiciously large pile of… feathers? On the floor.

“What the—” she started, but her words were cut off by the sound of something crashing in the other room.

Her instincts kicked in immediately. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she rushed toward the sound, her protective instincts as an alpha taking over. “Satoru?!” she called, her voice laced with urgency.

When she burst into the training room, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There, sprawled dramatically on the floor, was Satoru. He was covered in red paint, clutching his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. Beside him was a fake knife, gleaming under the lights.

Y/N’s heart stopped for a moment before her brain caught up. She took in the overly dramatic pose, the fact that the “blood” looked suspiciously like paint, and the undeniable glimmer of amusement in Satoru’s eyes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Y/N,” Satoru croaked, holding out a hand to her. “It’s too late for me. But promise me… you’ll avenge me.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “Satoru, get up.”

“I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking with fake emotion. “I’m done for.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “Do you think this is funny?”

He opened one eye, grinning up at her. “Hilarious, actually.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Satoru sat up, wiping some of the paint off his face. “Come on, admit it. I got you for a second.”

“You didn’t,” she lied, though her heart was still racing from the initial scare.

“Oh, I absolutely did,” he said, standing and brushing himself off.

Y/N leveled him with a stern look. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought something had actually happened to you.”

At her words, Satoru’s smug grin faltered. He noticed the way her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, the faint crease of worry still etched into her brow.

“Y/N…” he started, his tone softening.

She held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t. Just… clean up your mess.”

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving Satoru standing there with a pang of guilt twisting in his chest.

Later that evening, Y/N was sitting outside on the porch, staring up at the stars. She needed some fresh air to calm down after Satoru’s stunt.

She heard the door slide open behind her and knew without looking that it was him.

“Y/N?” he said tentatively, his voice unusually subdued.

She didn’t respond, keeping her gaze fixed on the sky.

Satoru hesitated before stepping out onto the porch and sitting beside her. For once, he didn’t immediately start talking or joking. He just sat there, the silence stretching between them.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence. “Do you know why I was so upset?”

He glanced at her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Because you care about me?”

“Yes,” she said simply. “And because you don’t seem to realize how much.”

Satoru’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I know, Y/N. I’m sorry. I thought it would be funny, but I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She sighed, finally turning to look at him. “I know you didn’t. But you scared me, Satoru. I thought I might have lost you.”

His expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand in his. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly. “I promise.”

She looked down at their joined hands, her heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. “Just… don’t do something like that again, okay?”

“I won’t,” he said immediately.

Y/N gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand. “Good.”

They sat there for a while longer, the tension between them slowly melting away.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Satoru said after a while.

“You’d better,” Y/N replied, her tone teasing.

He grinned, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “How about dinner? My treat.”

“You mean you’ll actually pay this time?”

“Hey, I’m a changed man,” he said, holding up his free hand as if swearing an oath.

Y/N laughed, the sound light and genuine. “We’ll see about that.”

As the night wore on, the two of them sat together, their bond stronger than ever.

Satoru might have been a handful, but Y/N wouldn’t have him any other way.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Relapse

hello! hope you're doing ok I have a request that's dealing with some sensitive topics, please don't feel pressured to write this! Warning for self harm I've been in a not the best mental space recently and was wondering if you could write smth where one of the sides has a sh relapse for an extended period of time and is hiding it, then gets discovered (and probably has a panic attack about it). my preference is Logan but I'd be happy with any of them!! – anon

Could you write a Roman angst + hurt/comfort sickfic. You can pick whatever sickness you want to give Roman. He tries to hide his illness from the others but they find out and help nurse him back to health. – monkeythefander

just saying.... if you wanted to write some not-romantic-not-platonic-what-are-you-a-cop? analogical h/c....... especially if they both- oh wait. I was trying to keep this vague but actually I just remembered from one of the earlier episodes Virgil said "I'm a problem identifier, not a problem solver" and Logan made a face like he wanted to disagree. maybe Logan is struggling and Virgil helps him and then later Virgil says something to that effect and Logan starts pointing out all the ways that isn't true? – anon

I was thinking about Logan angst and how maybe some of it isn’t about him thinking that he’s emotionless, but he’s just really reserved, and then the others make assumptions about what emotions he Must Be Feeling. And when he tries to explain himself, they don’t listen because they think he’s just denying that he has emotions, not that he’s denying having the specific emotions that they assume he has. – anon

Hi, I absolutely love your Sanders sides fics and I was wondering if you would write roman angst where the other sides realize that he is nearly always performing when he’s around them (kinda like your fic productivity). Like they thought Roman was kinda irresponsible/ careless and then they find out that when he’s not around them he’s working himself to the bone to prepare for the 0.5% and when he is with them he’s still not relaxing - even when they’re just like having dinner or something - because that’s when he has to perform. No pressure to write anything if you’re not up for it; you write Roman angst like no one else – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-harm

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3529

Relapse: deteriorate after a period of improvement. Relapse: return to a less active or worse state. *** There are good times, there are bad times.

Virgil gets summoned when the other Sides are afraid. Somehow, Logan had forgotten this crucial thing.

Stupid, stupid—

"Hey, no, none of that, bud," comes Virgil's voice, low and soothing as he crouches next to Logan on the cold bathroom floor, covered in water and blood and sodden toilet paper and— "Hey. Stay with me, Logan."

Logan blinks. He looks up. Virgil's face is blurred. He blinks again. Something warm touches his face, brushing tenderly along his cheek—hand, his brain supplies, that's Virgil's hand on his face. He blinks again. "V-Virgil?"

"Hey, there he is. You with me?"

"I think so."

"Okay, that's good. That's really good, Logan, okay? I want you to try and stay with me while we get you all cleaned up. Can we do that?"

Cleaned up. Right. That's why he'd come into the bathroom. That's the rule. He only ever does it in the bathroom because that's where it's the easiest to clean.

Oh, God—

"Logan." Virgil's voice is a little firmer now. "Stay with me, remember?"

"I'm here." He shakes his head slightly. "I'm here."

"Okay. I'm gonna stand up to get you some water. I'm not gonna leave, I'm gonna use the cup you keep in your medicine cabinet for this reason, okay?" Logan nods. "Okay. While I do that, I need you to count backwards from twenty. Ready?"

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…" As he counts, Virgil stands up. He hears the click of the cabinet opening and the sink running. "Five, four, three, two, one."

"Good job, bud. Here, drink that, okay? Try and drink all of it if you can."

"It's so much."

"One sip at a time, yeah?" There's a hand on his shoulder and another on the hand holding the cup. "C'mon, just try and get some of it down. For me?"

He can try. For Virgil, he can try. He lifts the cup with Virgil's help. The cool water soothes his throat—he was crying, he was hyperventilating, the rush and sting of it dulled everything to a background roar, why can't he just live there instead—and he swallows once, twice, three times. Soon he lifts the cup back to his lips and discovers it's empty.

"Good job, Logan, you did great. Do you want some more?"

He shakes his head. Virgil nods and takes the cup gently from his hands, settling it on top of the counter and taking Logan's hand in his. He rubs his thumb over Logan's trembling knuckles and gives his fingers a squeeze.

"I need to clean you up, buddy. Do you want to stay in here while I do that?"

"Bathrooms are easy to clean," he mumbles by rote, and Virgil only hesitates for a moment before there's another squeeze.

"Yeah, I know, but you're not a bathroom. You're Logan. And if Logan needs to be all comfy on his bed while I clean up, then that's what we'll do."

Bed…his bed sounds very nice right about now. His body tingles with the macabre satisfaction of being exhausted and lying down would help, wouldn't it? He tries to stand but a fresh sting of pain ripples up his legs and he collapses back to the wet tile.

"Hey, let me help you, c'mere, come put your arms around me…" Virgil hefts him off the floor like he weighs nothing, carrying him through to his bedroom and settling him on the edge of the bed. "There. I'm gonna go get the stuff from the bathroom, okay? You'll see me the whole time, you'll watch me go over there and you'll watch me come back."

"You won't leave?"

Virgil's gaze softens ever so slightly. "I'm not gonna leave, L. Do you want to count again? Would that help?"

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…"

By the time he gets to one, Virgil's got the first-aid kit laid out on the bed next to him, a towel folded up next to it, and another cup of water on his nightstand. He lets Logan wind nervous fingers into his hoodie, holding him close. He reaches up and lightly ruffles Logan's damp hair, smiling in the way where the corners of his eyes crinkle up.

"Hey, bud. You got me, see? I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna start cleaning up now, yeah? You wanna close your eyes for me?"

Logan's grip tightens. Virgil covers his hand with his.

"You got me, see? I'm right here. You can close your eyes, L, it's okay."

"If I close my e-eyes I'll just feel it. I can't—" his breath hitches— "I can't just feel it."

"Okay. Do you…do you want to see what I'm doing?" Logan shakes his head. "Okay. Do you want to talk while I'm doing this?"

"What would I talk about?"

"Well, I do wanna know what happened, but—but," he says softly when Logan barely stifles a whimper, "that doesn't have to be right now. Why don't you talk to me about something that isn't work related? Have you been watching something interesting?"

"There's—" he swallows— "there's this video game that Roman and I have been talking about."

"Oh, yeah? What's it called?"

"Superliminal."

"That sounds cool as hell. What's it about?"

"The premise is that you're going to this hospital for something called 'dream therapy,' meant to help you relieve—relieve stress," he mumbles, breath hitching again when Virgil tears open an antiseptic wipe, "and the game is you going through the stages of the therapy."

"Huh. That's a cool idea for a video game. What, uh, what's the story like when you're actually playing it?"

"The core mechanic is—" he hisses at the sting and Virgil blows a stream of cold air over it— "that you can change the world around you by picking up objects and that will alter their relative size based on your perception of them."

"Whoa. How the hell did they program that?"

"I have no—no idea."

"What sort of objects?"

Logan continues to describe it as Virgil works patiently to clean him up, pausing every once in a while to murmur words of comfort and encouragement when Logan's voice gets a bit too strained or his hand suddenly tenses. He keeps asking questions, prompting Logan to continue talking, until he finishes describing one of the more frustrating puzzles and realizes that Virgil's hands are on his shoulders, not his legs.

"You…you're done?"

"Yeah, bud, I'm all done. You did great. Here, drink some more water."

He accepts the cup and manages to lift it himself this time, Virgil's thumbs stroking gently over the seams of his shirt. The cool air of his room hits his still-damp skin and he shivers. "Are…are we to talk about what happened now?"

"I think that's a good idea, don't you?" He shrinks in on himself and Virgil's quick to lean forward, cupping the back of his head and carding a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad, L. I'm not gonna get mad. You don't have to be scared with me, I swear."

"You promise?"

He wants to flinch at how much a child he sounds, but Virgil just smiles. "I promise."

He closes his eyes, turning his face into the crook of Virgil's neck. Virgil's fingers keep working patiently against his scalp. He takes one deep breath, two, three.

"I was…talking with Patton."

"Okay."

"We were—I was—" he swallows— "I was trying to explain how I'm not—I don't—I don't feel things as strongly as he and Roman do all the time but that it's not the same thing as not feeling at all because it isn't, just because I don't yell or shout or proclaim my emotions for everyone to see doesn't make them less important or less valid just for—"

"Shh, easy." Virgil's hand rubs firmly up and down his back. "Hey, bud, you're okay."

He swallows. His chest starts to get tight again. "He wasn't listening to me."

"Can you say more?"

"He—he kept on trying to say that I did have feelings, even if they weren't the same as what I thought they should look like, but I do know what my feelings look like, I know better than him what they look like because they're my feelings, and I—" he chokes on a sob and Virgil shushes him again, whispering you're doing great— "I just got so mad."

Virgil rubs his back again, pulling away to push the cup of water into his hands again. "You got mad?"

He nods. "I…I yelled at him about how he didn't know what was best for me and he didn't—couldn't know what I was feeling because he's Thomas's emotions, not mine, and I didn't—I didn't mean to get so mad but it wasn't—I couldn't just explain it to him calmly because he wasn't listening but then he tried to tell me I was—I was—"

"Hey. Hey." Virgil takes his face in his hands, giving him the gentlest of shakes. "Look at me, L. Just look at me."

"I'm sorry, I—"

"Shh, shh, don't be sorry, you're not doing anything wrong. It's okay, you're okay, you're alright. It's just me, we're in your room, you're safe. Just take a second, calm down…shh, shh, that's it…that's it, L, you're doing great."

Logan takes a deep, shuddering breath. The lump in his throat grows. He truly didn't mean to shout at Patton. He didn't deserve it. He just got so frustrated and Patton wasn't listening and it—he—

"Is that why you came up here?" Virgil's question is gentle but stings no less. "Because you felt bad about it?"

"I don't like being angry," he croaks. "I don't like the person I become when I'm that angry."

"Oh, L…"

"I don't know how to be angry without being punished for it," he whispers, "and Patton—Patton just—he just—I—he couldn't—I can't—"

"What did he do? Or say?"

He sniffles. "He said that if I really did know about my feelings, then I wouldn't…then when I felt them, I wouldn't—I would know how to handle them."

Virgil's quiet for a long moment. Then he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like kick your ass that Logan's fairly certain is directed at Patton, not him, before he's being bundled up in another strong hug. "I'm really sorry, L, that was shitty of Patton to say."

"I didn't mean to—"

"Hey, uh-uh. We're not gonna do that now. We're gonna make sure you have enough water to drink, that you eat something, and that you rest, okay? Everything else can wait."

Logan nods. He takes another breath and holds onto Virgil. "What is it you say?"

"About what?"

"About later you?"

"Oh, right: that's a problem for Future Virgil. These are problems for Future Us to deal with, yeah? Trust me, I'm an expert problem identifier."

Virgil's shampoo smells like pine. Logan tucks his chin over his shoulder and hums. "You're wrong about just being that, by the way."

"Huh?"

"You always say that you don't solve problems, you just find them. But that's not true. You help. All the time."

"Aw, thanks, L. You're sweet."

"Does that count as an emotion?"

"'Sweet?' I dunno, let's ask Princey when we're up to it. For now, why don't you poof yourself into something more comfy and we'll watch an episode of that dumb game show you like making fun of."

"The one where the points system makes no sense?"

"Yep. That one. And, hey, Logan?" Virgil chucks him lightly under the chin with a smile. "I'm really proud of you."

"But I…relapsed."

"Yeah, but then you did all of this. You let me take care of you, we talked about it, we made sure you're okay for right now, and that shit's harder than people give it credit for. So yeah, bud, I'm super proud of you."

The smallest smile makes it to Logan's face.

***

The first thing Roman realizes when he wakes up is that he's somewhere soft and warm. Which is strange, because last time he checked, the bathroom floor where he thought he'd passed out is neither of those things.

Then he realizes there's a gloved hand adjusting the blankets tucked up under his chin and oh.

"Hi, sweetie," Janus says softly, patting his cheek, "good to have you back."

"How long…?"

"A few hours, at least. You were pretty exhausted." He raises his eyebrows. "Would you like to explain yourself, or should I?"

There's just enough gentle affection in his voice to keep the sting from overwhelming him, but he can't help but flinch away from it. Janus coos, leaning down to brush a kiss over his forehead, a cold un-gloved hand tucking itself against the side of his neck.

"You've been sick, sweetie, for days, and you've hidden it from all of us."

"Didn't—didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to hide it, or didn't mean for it to get this bad?" Roman shuffles guiltily. Janus hums. "I found you on the floor of the bathroom, covered in sweat. I managed to get you into bed but you need to eat and drink something."

"Not hungry."

"You don't have much of a choice right now, Roman, you need something in you. Don't you dare," he threatens with a tap to Roman's nose when he opens his mouth, "I'll get Remus to help me bully you into taking care of yourself, don't think I won't."

"…okay."

"There we go. Come sit up, you've got more pillows than Sleeping Beauty's palace. Would you prefer juice or Gatorade?"

"…can I have blue?"

"Yes, you can have blue. Sit up, now…"

Roman carefully gets himself sitting upright, blankets still swaddling his lower half as Janus reaches for a small bottle on his nightstand. He manages about half of it before he gives it back. When Janus moves toward him with a snack, though, he closes his mouth and stubbornly turns away.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I have to get back to work."

"You don't have to do anything other than rest and get better."

"But we have movie night."

"Exactly. We don't have anything else to do other than relax, so you should try and rest up now so that if you feel up to it—if," he repeats sternly when Roman shrugs, "you feel up to it, you can join us."

"But that's not how it works."

"That's not how what works?"

"I don't get to relax during movie nights."

Janus pauses. There's a soft clunk as he sets the bowl back on the nightstand and then the cool hand is cupping Roman's cheek, thumb brushing over his flushed skin. He closes his eyes at the relief of it.

"What do you mean," comes Janus's soft voice, "that you don't get to relax during movie nights?"

"I don't get to."

"Say more, sweetie."

"That's not—that's not the point. That's not why we have them."

"That's precisely why we have them, Roman, so we can all de-stress and relax together."

"No, we have them so Thomas can relax."

"We—we're saying the same thing, Roman—"

"No, we aren't." Roman pulls away from the touch, burying his face in his hands and scrubbing harshly. Janus tuts, catching them and pulling them to his lips, kissing his knuckles. "Don't—what're you doing?"

Janus's eyebrows quirk. "Why am I treating you gently? Is that what you're asking?"

"…you're mad at me, so—"

"I'm not mad at you, sweetie." When Roman frowns, something flickers over his expression and settles on something way too close to devastation for Roman to be comfortable still holding eye contact, so he looks away as Janus lets out a quiet noise. "Oh, Roman…"

"What?"

"Can you look at me?" Roman drags his eyes back up and Janus squeezes his hands. "Why do you think I'm angry with you?"

"…you had to take care of me? I'm disagreeing with you? I'm not—you didn't—I haven't—"

"That's my fault," Janus interrupts with a sigh, "let me rephrase: I'm not angry with you, Roman. I'm not angry that I 'had' to take care of you, I'm upset because you needed taking care of and you didn't feel like you could let us know. I'm not angry that you're disagreeing with me, I'm concerned because you're telling me that something I thought was relaxing for you isn't actually relaxing at all. I'm not mad, you're not in trouble, I'm not going to—to punish you, I want to help."

Roman stares at him. That's more words than he's ever heard Janus say to him about feelings ever, and too many of them sound too perfect to be coming out of Janus's mouth at him. And as if he can hear those thoughts, Janus takes his un-gloved hand and brushes Roman's hair back from his damp forehead. An embarrassing noise leaves his mouth and he goes to pull away but then the other hand is cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer.

"Can you tell me why movie nights aren't relaxing for you?"

His jaw wobbles. "I have to—they're for Thomas."

"What does that mean? I'm not trying to make fun of you," he says quickly when Roman's mouth screws up, "I'm just trying to understand."

"It's for Thomas. That means I have to—I'm there for Thomas. I have to be watching the movie for Thomas. I'm not—that's not relaxing, nothing I do for Thomas is relaxing, it's work."

"But Thomas doesn't always come to our movie nights."

"So?"

Janus frowns. "So why would the ones where he's not there also be for him?"

"What does Thomas do to relax?"

"Let's see, he…well, he watches movies, he reads things, he watches shows, plays games with his friends…"

"He engages with stories."

Janus lets out a quiet oh. Roman closes his eyes. The pounding in his head is back.

"So it's…work. It's part of the 0.5%, or whatever it was."

"You know that Logan doesn't believe that anymore, don't you?" Roman's quiet for a little too long before Janus kisses his forehead again. "We'll talk to him when you feel better, okay?"

"Wait, 'we?'"

"You didn't think I'd leave you on your own to deal with things, did you?" At Roman's hopeful expression, he chuckles. "You're enough of a disaster already."

"Hey!" He smacks weakly at Janus's chest. "I'm sick, you have to be nice to me."

"And considering that's the first time you've admitted that you're sick, I'd say that proves my point."

"No fair."

"I know, I'm so mean to you," he murmurs, unable to keep all of the remorse from his voice as he kisses him again. "Shh, it's alright, sweetie, everything's going to be okay. Now go to sleep, you need it."

"Will you—can you stay?"

"Of course I can, sweetie. Rest, now. We can sort everything else out when you wake up."

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[flawssy-227]

The Beginning | a Joel x Babysitter fic

pairing: joel miller x babysitter!reader

wc: 2.6k

summary: how you start babysitting for Joel and Sarah.

warnings: no smut, still 18+ pls!, no outbreak!au, Sarah lives!au, small unspecified age gap, longing, small feelings developing, mostly written in a couple of hours and poorly edited lol, moldboard was hastily created by me to reflect ~vibes~, not physical characteristics

a/n: s/o @saradika-graphics for the dividers. still dusting off the cobwebs, but thank you to everyone who read part 1 and left feedback. I think I will keep writing for this pair–– less of a 'series' and more so vignettes of their lives. feel free to lmk what you would like to see next. and let me know what you think :)

You rolled your neck slowly, trying to release the tension that had been building up the last few hours. You had been working at a bookstore in downtown Austin all summer, trying to get acclimated to your new city before you start your grad program and to help earn a little cash as a cushion–you knew you were about to be way too busy with long readings and lengthy essays to work the inconvenient shifts here.

It should’ve been an easy gig, working at an independent bookstore. You really thought you would enjoy it when you got the call saying you’d been hired. The hours were nice and the environment was warm, earthy and classic Texan. It got slightly busy on the weekends and in the evenings, and there was a small coffee bar that attracted teens and students alike. It would be totally fine if it weren’t for your dick of a manager, Todd.

He was in the middle of lecturing you about cleaning the espresso machine and labeling the milk, just for you to remind him that it wasn’t even your job, and that Erica, his assistant manager still hadn’t trained you on the bar, insisting that despite your previous restaurant experience, that operating the espresso machine was a little out of your wheelhouse. You tried to resist the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes at his droning when you saw a little girl with gorgeous curly hair walk into the bookstore alone.

You tracked her movements as she maneuvered around the store comfortably and found the history section, tactfully looking over titles before her eyes brightened in recognition as she reached for a hardcover that was comically large for her small hands.

Todd was still yapping in your ear, asking if you understood what he was saying, prompting you to let out a halfhearted yup and a silent wish he would leave you alone. You looked at him, offering a half hearted customer service smile, one that probably got you the job in the first place before mumbling something about restocking some returns.

You made your way over to the little girl who was now sitting in the reading nook in the back of the store, golden Austin sunlight highlighting her face.

“Hey,” you offered, making her look up. You notice how she cautiously tracked your face, glancing down at your employee lanyard before she relaxed the slightest bit. “What’re you reading?”

She lifted up the cover so you could see. “Hidden Figures.” She stayed silent after that, curiously waiting to see if you would speak more.

“That’s a good book,” you responded. “Ever seen the movie?”

My dad says I gotta read the book before I watch the movie,” she replied, eyes rolling the slightest bit, making you both giggle.

“Oh,” you laugh, “your dad is one of those?”

She nods eagerly, guards lowering a bit. “Used to not be,” the girl shrugs. “I got put into the gifted program for school this year though. Think he’s pushing me.”

Gifted made sense. What kid her age was comfortable enough walking into bookstores on their own to grab non-fiction history novels and talking to strangers? You sure weren’t that way.

“Where’s your dad anyway?” you finally ask. The store was surprisingly empty for a Saturday afternoon but you weren’t too keen on leaving a girl her age to fend for herself.

The little girl was just about to open her mouth before a man who appeared to be in his 30s stood before you both. You could see his chest moving up and down, like he had run into the bookstore and was trying to get his breathing under control. He looked upset and irritated and it immediately put you on edge.

“Sarah,” he hissed, completely ignoring you and looking at the girl you were chatting with. You assumed this was her dad.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he scoffed at her. “I told you we could walk in here when I finished up my errands. Stop bein’ so damn impatient.”

Sarah was completely unperturbed by his tone, essentially disregarding it. It was honestly comical how bothered he was and how little she seemed to care. “Sorry, dad,” she offered, a brilliant smile on her face, one you were sure got her out of trouble more often than not. “Just came to grab the book.” She flipped over to the cover, just like she did with you moments earlier. “Made a friend.”

At Sarah’s gesture towards you, her dad focused his attention on you for the first time since walking into the store. You offered a shy smile and stood up from the nook before you offered him your hand and introduced yourself. 

“Joel,” he said back, eyeing you in the same suspicious way Sarah had when you first greeted her. 

Some genetics, you thought to yourself of the similarity, but you tried not to let his intensity get to you. He was gorgeous, broad shoulders stretching indecently across a threadbare grey t-shirt and big hands tucked coolly in a perfectly worn pair of Levi’s. His brown eyes were intense on you, making you avert your gaze as you felt heat creep across your cheeks. Dammit, he was attractive. 

“I was just keeping an eye on her,” you offered, not getting a response in return. “I should, uh, get back to work,” you respond after a minute, the stare and silence from Joel just a bit much to handle. “Enjoy the book,” you say to Sarah, before walking away and trying to remember what the hell you were supposed to be doing.

“C’mon hon, VIP section right here!”

You had let your roommate, Avery, convince you to go drinking with her tonight. You’d been in Austin for a couple of months but you hadn’t gone out too much. Instead, you were focused on your annoying little bookstore gig and working through the massive reading list you were assigned before you started your first semester. Plus, outside of Avery, you didn’t really know anyone in Texas.

You looked at what she had just referred to as the ‘VIP section’ and scoffed. She wasn’t too specific when she invited you out tonight, but looking at Avery and her trendy gold jewelry, slinky outfit and YSL purse, you thought you might be going somewhere a little bit nicer than the sticky dive bar you were currently in. 

You scoffed and swiped the crumbs from the cracked leather booth before you slipped in. “Some VIP,” you mumbled.

Avery quirked a smile at you. “What was that? Austin’s latest transplant isn’t a fan of what we have to offer?”

You rolled your eyes at her goading. Despite not hanging out much, you did really enjoy living with Avery. You had been randomly placed together via some roommate matching app and you were surprised at how it had worked out so far. She was clean and respectful. She was out a lot, but never really brought the party home. As far as you knew, she was Texan, born and raised, but this girl was bougie. She did barre classes in the mornings and wore designer pieces to work. You just could not understand why the hell she dragged you to this dive bar.

“No,” you scoff. “Just wondering if this is the place you’re always raving about.”

She hummed quietly, like she had a secret she couldn’t wait to spill, before a cute server came by to grab your drink orders. You finally took a look around the dive, disregarding the kitschy and chaotic decor that has probably been here since before you were born, noticing the patrons. Mostly men, a mix of what appeared to be the most attractive male models cosplaying as blue collar workers and others who looked like they were just in an episode of Yellowstone. It was kind of insane, you’d never seen this many attractive men in one place before. You got it now.

Avery is almost giddy as she watches you take in all the guests. “See anything you like?”

You both laugh. “Okay,” you sigh. “I might understand why you like this place so much.”

“Not only is everyone here so fucking hot,” she giggled. “But the drinks are sickeningly cheap.”

You and Avery were having too good of a time, laughing and tipsy enough before you made your way to the pool table, convinced you wouldn’t embarrass yourselves. A few guys had checked the two of you out, another anonymously even bought you a round of drinks, but no one actually came up to either of you to speak. It was mildly disappointing but you suppose that’s what the apps are for.

Avery was focused on lining up her next shot when someone put two quarters on the table. “I got next,” he smirked.

He fit in exactly with the other patrons of the bar. Tall, dark and handsome. He actually looked a lot like the dad you met at the bookstore the other day. Just leaner, with longer hair and–

“Here’s your beer, Tommy.”

Your breath hitched at the sight. There he was. The dad from the bookstore. Joel. He looked the same, just a little more flushed, like he had spent all day in the sun. He finally looked at you and froze before quirking a small smile in your direction.

Next to you, Avery squealed and embraced the man who had just claimed the pool table.

“Tommy!” she exclaimed, letting herself be picked up and spun around. “Missed you,” she said as she nuzzled herself into his neck. You focused your attention on the two of them, trying to convince yourself you didn’t feel the heat of Joel’s stare. 

How the hell did Avery know these guys? You were looking at her quizzically, trying to remember if she ever mentioned a boyfriend to you, just as he set her down. Avery reached for you without fully releasing her hold on the man.

“Babe, this is my friend Tommy and his brother, Joel.”

You shook Tommy’s hand and then did the same to Joel. “Nice to meet you,” you said, giving each other a knowing look.

After a round of pool where you and Avery quickly lost against Tommy and Joel, the two of them offered to grab another round for everyone before they disappeared for a while, leaving you and Joel tucked into the same cracked booth where you started the night.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, being left to sit next to Joel while Avery and Tommy did whatever it was they were doing while they should’ve been grabbing your drinks. He had been funny during pool, a little different than the concerned and irritated dad you met over the weekend. You couldn’t help but notice how relaxed he looked when he smiled. Beautiful, really.

Trying not to stare too long, you broke the silence. “So,” you offered, “how long do you think they’ll be?”

Joel chuckled dryly, rubbing a hand down his face and glancing to the bar. “Well,” he took a sip of his beer, “I wouldn’t hold my breath waitin’ for those two to come back. ‘Specially since they ain’t nowhere near the bar.” He smiled at you, and dammit if it didn’t make your heart beat a little bit faster. “You’ve known Avery for long?”

You shook your head, taking a small sip of your drink just to give yourself a distraction. “No, I just moved in with her like two months ago. Actually moved to Austin two months ago. Brand new.” You smile shyly at his appraising gaze.

“Well if there’s anyone to be a part of the welcoming committee, it’s probably Avery. Swear that girl knows everyone and everything in this town.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, I’m kinda getting that sense.” You took another sip of your drink. You were happy you didn’t have to work the opening shift tomorrow with how strong and cheap these cocktails were. “Maybe she can help me find a different job.”

“Really?” Joel asked. “Not likin’ the bookstore?”

You shook your head no, offering him a half hearted explanation about your manager being a bit of a prick and the hours not coinciding with the school schedule you just got. “But it’ll be fine. I just have to be patient and wait for something that’s a better fit.”

Joel nodded, trying not to be obvious as he watched the way your lips pursed around the little black cocktail straws, or how you let out a happy sigh at the sweet taste of the mixer. He thought back to how Sarah kept mentioning how nice you were when they left the bookstore Saturday, asking him why he wasn’t nicer to you, why he had been so stand offish, and then promptly adding that he should’ve asked for your number, much to his chagrin. She had been really wanting him to start dating again. He had to give it to his daughter, you were really pretty, gorgeous even, and definitely sweet. Smart too, if you were going to graduate school at UT. Sarah had a better understanding of his type than he did. But he didn’t have time to date, not right now. He and Tommy finally started their own contracting business, and between liability insurance and taxes and 1099s and the customer service aspect of it all, he had been swamped and a little overwhelmed, if he was being honest. He could use some help, personally and professionally. He only came out for a drink tonight with his brother because Sarah was sleeping over at a friend's house. 

He paused for a moment and thought about how he was going to need a little more assistance with Sarah at the start of the school year. He knew some of the other parents at her school had nanny’s who did the pickups and drop offs that were at incredibly inconvenient times to anyone who actually had a job. He had been reliant on his mom and some of the parents of Sarah’s friends to help him pick up the slack for far too long. He decided not to think too hard and just ask. He needed help with Sarah. You liked Sarah. Sarah liked you. That’s all this was. Definitely no other reason he was even considering this.

“You know, Sarah really enjoyed talking to you.”

“Really?” you ask, smiling at the memory of his daughter from your brief encounter. “She was really sweet. Smart too.”

“Yeah, listen, I could use some help with her starting in a few weeks.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned. “What? You want me to babysit?”

He smiled bashfully at you. “Honestly? Yeah. She liked you, a whole lot, and I could use the help a few nights a week,” he shrugged, taking another pull of his beer. 

Would you ever consider, uh, babysitting?” The worst you could do is say no, he figured.

Your face turned in surprise. You were intrigued at the idea of seeing Joel again, but this wasn’t exactly the context you had in mind.

“Babysitting might not be the right word for it. Maybe, more like a nanny,” he added. “Only if it works with your school schedule,” he said finally, trying to read your expression as you thought about his offer.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that he didn’t ask you out for dinner or at least a coffee. Babysitting. You could use the money though, and something a little more flexible than the bookstore. And hanging out with Sarah while you did your readings for school didn’t sound too bad. Why the hell not? 

You smiled up at Joel, brown eyes peering into yours. “You know, me and Sarah will probably gang up on you, join forces and take over your house.”

Joel grinned at the idea, flashes of you in his house, acting like you owned the place with Sarah smiling next to you filling his head. “I won’t mind darlin’. I won’t mind at all.”