#this idea is slightly ridiculous but what are you gonna do

[sturnswrites]

dressed to impress

bf!matt x fem!reader

⤳ mdni, smut, angst, p in v, jealousy, dom!matt, and more

⤳ you help matt and his brothers with their dress to impress video and decide to tease matt until he doesn't think its funny anymore…

---------------------------------------------

The camera blinked red, signaling it was recording. Matt, Nick, and Chris stood in front of their kitchen counter, their usual lively banter filling the air. Today’s video idea was one of Nick’s: Dress to Impress IRL. The challenge was simple—rotate through different themes, pick out an outfit that fits, and see who gets voted the best. The twist? Matt’s girlfriend, you, was joining them as a guest judge and participant.

“Alright, first theme: Beach day!” Nick announced, holding up a card with dramatic flair.

Chris rolled his eyes. “Original, Nick.”

“Hey, it’s classic!” Nick shot back.

You laughed, standing just out of frame as the boys began scrambling for their outfits. “I can’t wait to see how ridiculous you all look.”

“Oh, you’re participating too,” Matt said, pointing at you with a smirk. “No slacking.”

You mock-saluted. “Yes, sir.”

-

The beach theme went off without a hitch. Nick emerged in swim trunks, sunglasses, and an added striped beach towel for an accessory. Chris had opted for a more ridiculous look—a bucket hat, beach shirt, and goggles around his neck. Matt had gone for a simple yet stylish combo of swim trunks and a straw hat, while you wore a bright sundress over your bikini.

“I’m definitely winning this round,” Chris said confidently, striking a dramatic pose.

“Absolutely not,” Nick argued. “You look ridiculous.”

“My outfit is what you would wear to the airport before the beach!” Chris retorted.

Matt laughed, leaning against the counter. “Alright, Y/N, who wins?”

You pretended to think, tapping your chin. “I’m gonna give this one to… Nick. Mostly because he committed.”

Nick whooped as Chris groaned.

- 

As the rounds went on, the competition heated up. Themes like Rock Concert and Mix Matched Madness brought out a mix of creativity and chaos. You were having the time of your life, but you couldn’t resist teasing Matt here and there—especially since he seemed to get adorably flustered every time you outshined him in a round.

Then came the theme: First Date.

The brothers scattered, diving into their rooms to pull together their outfits. You took your time, knowing exactly what you wanted to wear—a sweet, flowy dress… with a little surprise underneath.

-

When you all reconvened, Nick was the first to reveal his outfit. “Boom,” he said, stepping out in a blazer and jeans. “Simple, classic, charming.”

Chris followed, wearing a leather jacket and black pants. “Mysterious bad boy vibe,” he declared.

Matt emerged next, wearing a sharp button-up shirt and slacks. He looked effortlessly handsome, his casual confidence making your heart skip a beat.

Finally, it was your turn. You stepped into the frame, twirling your dress with a grin. “What do you think?”

The boys clapped and nodded approvingly, but Matt’s eyes lingered a little longer.

“Very classy,” Nick said.

“Definitely beats Chris’s rock concert look,” Matt teased, earning a glare from his brother.

But as the boys debated their rankings, you leaned close to the camera and tugged your dress slightly, just enough to reveal the lacy red strap of the lingerie beneath.

Matt’s eyes darkened instantly.

“Y/N,” he said lowly, his tone half-warning, half-exasperated.

You shot him an innocent smile. “What?”

Nick and Chris, oblivious, were already heading to their rooms to change for the next round. The moment they disappeared, Matt turned to you, stepping closer.

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

Your grin widened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He gave you a look that promised payback, but you just laughed, turning away to prepare for the next round.

-

The final theme was Zoom Call, and you decided to up the ante. You chose a matching pajama set that was equal parts cute and daring, the shorts riding up just enough to show off your legs, well, ass.

When you walked back into the room, Matt’s jaw clenched.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence as you adjusted the hem.

Nick and Chris reappeared, completely oblivious to the growing tension.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Chris said.

But before the camera could start rolling again, Matt abruptly stood up.

“Video’s over,” he announced, reaching to shut off the camera.

Nick and Chris both groaned in protest.

“Dude, we’re not done yet!” Nick argued.

“Yeah, we’re in the middle of filming,” Chris added.

“Not anymore,” Matt said firmly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You bit back a smile as the boys begrudgingly went upstairs, leaving you alone with Matt.

“What’s the matter?” you teased, leaning against the counter.

He stepped closer, his hands bracketing you against the counter. “You know exactly what’s the matter,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Your playful smile softened as you looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Maybe I just like seeing you worked up,” you admitted softly.

Suddenly he grabs your arm dragging you down the hallway to his room, a soft gasp leaving your mouth. 

Matt's room is dark and cold, a sharp contrast to the bright, warm kitchen where we were just filming. He slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. You can feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin as you stand there, unsure of what to do next.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew you were playing with fire when you decided to wear this lingerie and shorts, but you didn't think Matt would react like this. You thought he would find it funny, or maybe even a little sexy. But you were wrong.

"I warned you not to tease anymore." Matt's voice is a growl now, his eyes flashing with anger. He steps closer to you, his body towering over your. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and you can't help but feel a little scared.

But there's also something else there, something primal and raw. You can see it in Matt's eyes, and you can feel it in the way he's looking at you. He wants you, and he's not going to stop until he has you.

"Take it off." Matt's voice is a command now, and you find yourself obeying without even thinking about it. You reach around you, taking off the pajama set, letting it fall to the floor. You're standing there in nothing but your lingerie, and you can feel Matt's eyes on you, devouring every inch of your body.

"You're mine." Matt's voice is a whisper now, but it's filled with so much intensity that it feels like a shout. He steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch you. You can feel his fingers tracing the curves of your body, and you can't help but shiver with anticipation.

"You shouldn't have misbehaved." Matt's voice is a warning now, and you know he's not playing around anymore. He's serious, and he's not going to stop until he's claimed you as his own.

He grabs you roughly, pulling you into him. You can feel his hard cock pressed against you, and you can't help but moan with desire. Matt's lips are on yours, devouring you with a passion that takes your breath away.

He pushes you onto the bed, his body covering yours. You can feel his hands all over you, touching you in ways that make you gasp with pleasure. He's rough and possessive, and you can't help but love it.

Matt's fingers find their way inside you, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. He's fucking you with his fingers, and you can feel yourself starting to lose control.

"That's it, take it," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so fucking wet for me."

You continue to moan, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Cum for me." Matt's voice is a command, and you find yourself obeying without even thinking about it. You can feel yourself exploding with pleasure, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

But Matt doesn't stop there. 

You could feel his hard length pressing against your entrance, and you knew that he was not going to be gentle. "You're mine," he growled again, his voice raw with need. "I'm going to make you scream my name."

Matt thrust into you, his dick filling you up completely. You cried out as he began to move, his hips pistoning in and out of you. He was rough and possessive, his hands gripping your hips as he took you.

"Take it," he growled, his voice harsh with pleasure. "You shouldn't have misbehaved."

You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge again, your body trembling with pleasure. Matt's thrusts became harder and faster, his body slapping against yours. You cried out as you came again, your body shuddering with pleasure.

Matt followed soon after, his body shuddering as he came inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck.

"I think we need to be more careful about what we wear during our videos." Matt's voice is a whisper, and you can feel him smiling against your skin.

"I think you're right." you whisper back, your body still trembling with pleasure.

Matt rolls off of yours, his body spent. You can feel his eyes on you, and you know he's still looking at you with that same intensity. You know he's still claiming me as his own, and you can't help but love it.

"I'm only yours." you whisper, your voice filled with reassurance.

"And I'm only yours." Matt whispers back, his voice filled with the same emotion.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, your bodies entwined. You can feel Matt's heart beating against yours, and you know you’re in it together. 

"I love you." you whisper, your voice now filled with care.

"I love you too." Matt whispers back, matching your tone.

---------------------------------------------

[gloomysoup]

i was just going thru some notes i have for brainstorming purposes and came across something i forgot ab

picture it w me, if you will:

no upside down modern au, alpha!eddie/omega!steve (bc apparently that's where my brain always goes)

steve is drunk at a party and either billy or tommy (also drunk) takes advantage of him. he ends up pregnant, kicked out, b/t wants nothing to do w any of it. steve's mom (bc we appreciate one good parent in this house) sends him money every month in exchange for pictures and updates of child w/o his dad's knowledge.

eddie meet him at some kind of organization event for underprivileged kids that he volunteers at bc he was that kid and knows how important they are. at first, he thinks steve is another volunteer & is absolutely enamored by him. but once he sees steve's kid run up to him, he decides to back off bc he assumes this means steve is in a relationship. he keeps seeing steve around and silently pines the whole time bc he's accepted that he'll never have him.

until eddie is at the library, hosting d&d. the party joins a few campaigns, and he gets to know them a little. he likes them, they're good kids (teenagers, technically). one day steve brings his toddler to the library bc they like to look thru the picture books on steve's days off. he also knows that the party goes to d&d that day and wants to say hi. when he leaves, eddie asks the party if they know him, and they explain that steve used to babysit them and drove them around a lot when they were in middle school. he uses this as an in w steve, resolved to just talk to him once and maybe be his friend.

he asks ab the kid's other parent simply for small talk purposes, wondering what they're like and why eddie's never seen them around. steve explains that he's a single parent; the kid's father was an asshole that didn't want to face the consequences of his actions.

cue eddie desperately doing everything possible to impress this child so he can prove to steve just how serious he is ab being w them. i like the think of it in the same vein as your moms new boyfriend trying to make you like him, even tho you already do and there's no need for him to try That Hard. but much more ridiculous and dramatic in true eddie munson fashion.

[euthymiya]

female reader ; non curse au ; established relationship ; reader lays on sukuna ; written bc i’m moving and can’t help but imagine sharing an apartment with him (i want someone to help me carry heavy boxes with flexing muscles as i take in the view)

“I can’t find the box with my bras,” you whine. It’s miserable, the look on your face. It fills Sukuna with unbridled joy as he cracks a thickly amused grin.

“Good,” he grunts in approval, “you don’t need them, anyway.”

“I do,” you glare. It takes all of three seconds before the reality dawns on you—and then he’s snickering as your glare becomes harsher. “You put it somewhere, didn’t you?” You accuse him through narrowed eyes.

“Me? I’d never.”

“I should’ve known moving in with you was a mistake,” you snap, “I’m moving back.”

“Too late. We paid for the moving truck.”

“Well, technically you paid for the moving truck,” you correct him, letting your lips stretch into a smug grin.

He scowls, rolling his eyes before slumping onto the bed with a groan. You follow him, curling up beside him as your head finds his chest and his arm tucks under your body to cocoon you closer. You inhale, he exhales, and even if your paces don’t match, your uneven breaths form a pretty solid rhythm.

“I’m gonna need my bras,” you insist.

“Fine,” he grumbles, “I’ll get the box from my trunk later. I’m tired, woman.”

“We still have to unpack—”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” he clicks his teeth in distaste. “I need rest—I did all the heavy lifting, since someone refused.”

“It’s what the man is for,” you hum cheekily.

“So then why didn’t you do it?” He raises a brow. You shoot him an unimpressed look at his smart comment, a tight lipped, sarcastic smile splaying on your lips as you let out a humorless chuckle.

“You’re right,” you nod seriously, “it’s my job to treat the lady right. Sorry you had to sprain your back with my boxes, princess,” you pat his cheek.

“The fuck are you on about?” The look of pure disgust on his face makes you break out into giggles, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he grumbles something incoherently under his breath. You hear bits and fragments of it. Something along the lines of such a handful and give me migraines that you don’t fully catch, but they manage to amuse you all the same.

“You’re pretty enough to play the part,” you hum, shifting your body to roll on top of his. You hover over him, and Sukuna lets out a dramatic grunt. You pretend—and it’s only out of the goodness of your heart—that his cheeks aren’t slightly rosy from the comment you made.

“You’re heavy,” he says (to which you gasp, offended) as he squeezes your ass (you gasp again and smack his chest this time) and shoots you a grin with no shame (you stare for just a strict second—and a strict second only—at his dimples).

“Don’t lie,” you huff, “that’s an insult to that gym regimen of yours.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He asks smugly, mouth curving in that ridiculously annoying, yet stupidly handsome way as he adds, “bet you’re eye-fuckin’ me through that mirror as I life weights all the time.”

“I’m too busy worrying about those shaky arms giving out and leaving you to die under the weight.”

“Very funny,” he scowls, “you could pay our rent with stand up comedy alone.”

“Being my princess isn’t enough? Now you need to be my sugar-baby, too?”

“Enough,” he hisses, one hand coming to your face to keep you away as you break into a fit of laughs and try to give him a cheeky peck to the lips. “Stay away from me.”

“No, we’re roomies now.”

“We are not roommates,” he says, irritated by the idea. “That sounds like we’re fuckin’ strangers.”

“You’re right,” you nod thoughtfully, “I guess we can call it two mutually benefiting individuals that have decided to split costs to save money on a living space in an unforgivingly harsh economy—”

“You talk too much,” he mutters. And mainly just to shut you up (but maybe, perhaps, possibly for one of the mutual benefits, too), his hand grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. You cut yourself off by letting out a muffled gasp as his tongue presses against yours—messy, heated, and surprisingly gentle.

“Well, that was rather passionate. You know what they say about roommates,” you wiggle your brows as you pull away. He purses his lips in an agitated expression as he glares at your stubborn word choice.

“Stop callin’ me your fuckin’ roommate,” he demands.

You laugh. It’s soft—a light, airy noise. The sound bounces off the walls that are his and yours and echoes along the space between your pressed-up bodies. Along the boxes littered across the floor and the suitcases lined up in the corner. Along the clothes you insisted you needed that he hasn’t seen you wear in months as they lay in a heap on his closet floor. Along the kitchen table where you’ll have breakfast, and the living room where you’ll watch movies, and the bathroom sink where you’ll fight over space to brush your teeth.

He’ll never tell you directly (because he has dignity, of course) but he could really get used to living somewhere that houses a sound like that. A sound that makes him realize the difference between the space he lives in, and the place he calls home.

Home, he thinks to himself for a moment. Home is where your laugh echoes, ringing obnoxiously in his ear. Sukuna doesn’t think any living space will ever be the same again without it.

“Since we live together now—” you murmur, breaking him from his thoughts as you lean in to peck his lips. He hums in a rare, soft, content little sound that you don’t get to hear too often. “—I can finally decorate your plain ass apartment.”

His brows scrunch in horror as he registers your words. “Absolutely not—”

“Muah,” you cut him off with another peck to his mouth, “I’m thinking earthy tones, what about you?”

——————————

I carried like 20 something heavy ass boxes to and from my car nonstop today and every time I felt my poor arms get sore, I thought: wouldn’t it be so nice to have someone like sukuna and his four arms to do all the work while I sit and look gorgeous? He doesn’t have four arms in this fic, but that’s honestly his problem not mine. Just carry the damn boxes I’m just a girl

[coffee-and-geto]

“WHO YOU GONNA CALL? CURSEHUNTER!”

“That’ll cost you 33,000 yens, ma’am.” “What?!” “Unless you offer other methods of payment. I’m flexible by nature, though.”

pairing: curse hunter! toji fushiguro x f!reader | kinkoctober m.list

summary: for halloween, you and your group of friends — where your boyfriend has taken a break from your relationship — decide to spend the evening in an old mansion turned into a hotel. with a rather strange staff and weird things going on in the mansion, everything leads you to end up calling a specialist to the situation — toji, the curse hunter for your evening can do his job, sure, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let you off the hook so easily when you can’t afford him…

warnings: +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, AU with curses, haunted house, (slight) angst, cheating because the reader has an (ex) boyfriend but he’s a cheater, utahime makes an appearance, sex (p in v), squirting, oral (f! receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, fingering (f! receiving), overstimulation, lot of teasing, doggy + missionary positions, size kink.

wc: 5,963

“Wow!”

“It’s a really scary décor!” comments one of your friends, covering her mouth as her jaw drops in surprise.

“Same for the staff,” you add with a frown, glancing around at the spooky theme that’s everywhere—the walls, the bedrooms, even the kitchen and living room. But you can’t ignore how strange the staff in the lobby were when you all checked in for your rooms.

“Don’t be silly, it’s all part of the ambiance.” Your boyfriend nudges you playfully with his elbow, flashing his usual smirk, but this time it doesn’t work. You’re so tired of him.

“And she’s right,” snaps Utahime, who links her arm with yours to pull you further away from the annoying duo made up of one of your friends and your boyfriend. “But of course, coming from you…” She scrunches her nose, looking annoyed.

You sigh. “It’s fine, Hime, I can handle it—”

“This jerk needs a scare big enough to make him crap his pants, believe me,” she interrupts, gently tugging you along as she takes the lead to find your bedroom. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

You glance back toward the rooms of the others, including your boyfriend, then look forward with a disappointed pout. His attention should be on you, not anyone else—it should be shining like a star for you, not for some friend.

“Do you think the story about this manor is true?” you whisper when Utahime finally finds room 311-1.

She shakes her head but hurries to unlock the door, casting nervous glances at the dim hallway lights, which are anything but reassuring. “The point is to get us in the mood, obviously, but the staff went a bit too hard with the costumes…”

Finally, you both step into the room, where the soft, victorian decor makes your friend sigh with relief.

“At least the room itself isn’t weird,” she laughs, relaxing a little.

You smile faintly, taking in the shared bedroom. “Yeah, not too bad.”

In the next hour, the two of you have fun picking apart the manor’s ambiance, spinning wild theories about the place. Your mood lifts again, and since you already had dinner on the way here, at least you don’t have to worry about the creepy staff involving you in some haunted-house-style horror event.

Or worse, poisoning you.

But what a ridiculous idea, right?

There’s no reason for that. No one would do that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come.

~~~~

Why always you?

Of course. Your brain had to convince you, “No danger; they haven’t announced a Halloween night event yet!”

“You will be paired up in twos by random draw,” a staff member dressed as the Joker announces cheerfully, handing out small slips of paper with numbers and a map that looks much like a pirate’s treasure map, but is actually the hotel floor plan. “When you enter the first room — different for each pair — you’ll find an object and a riddle that will indicate which room is next.”

He bounces slightly in front of the reception desk, nearly giddy with excitement, which is unsettling given the blood-red lines around the corners of his mouth.

“This means that whoever finds the most hidden spots will win a prize at the end of the night,” he concludes, looking over your group one by one. “But be careful — this mansion has a spooky history, and some ghosts may come to visit!” He laughs, joined by a few others.

As you examine your number, you look around for your boyfriend, hoping to have drawn the same number so you can spend some time with him despite the break he recently put on your relationship. But no.

One of your friends — Nami, the one who’d commented on the decor — is already giggling beside him, paying no attention to you or the boundaries she’s crossing with her little “friendly” touches.

You inhale deeply, trying to ignore the sharp sting of jealousy. Just then, Utahime leans over your shoulder, checking your number. “Hey, looks like we’re together!”

You let a smile spread over your face and head with her to the first floor, where the first prize is hidden.

“I hope they didn’t hire any actors to scare us, or I might just hurt someone,” you mutter darkly, the dim lighting and ornate wallpaper in the hallways sending a chill down your spine.

“Same,” Utahime chuckles softly, pulling out a small flashlight. She switches it on and shines it ahead. “This should help, right? Check the map.”

You do, studying the hallway details on the paper to get your bearings. “Yeah, we’re close to room 456,” you say, looking up.

In a long walk that feels like it stretches out forever, Utahime and you move at the same steady pace, maintaining a comfortable distance, wrapped in silence as though no one else is on any floor.

“We’re here,” you announce as Utahime shines her light on the brass plaque for room 456.

You open the door carefully, flicking on the light, and catch a vague movement out of the corner of your eye near the edge of the sitting area. You snap your head in that direction, but there’s nothing.

“Did they set up special effects?” you wonder aloud.

“Probably,” Utahime reassures you, heading towards a bookshelf where a velvet-covered box with emerald and gold accents catches her eye. She grabs it, opening it to find a slip of parchment and a key.

You take a more careful look around the room, inspecting every corner, and almost miss what Utahime has found until she calls out to you.

“Next room, here we come!” she says happily.

~~~~

“Is it just me, or have we been walking for a while?” you remark after several minutes of silence, back in the hallway but on the second floor this time.

“Yeah, feels like it.” Utahime swings her flashlight around, lighting up the walls, curtains, and carpet in the dimly lit halls. It’s as if the already faint lights were growing even weaker.

BANG!

Both of you jump, turning in unison towards the unknown source of the noise.

“Fuck,” Utahime curses, “them and their damn effects.”

You exhale a shaky breath meant to calm your still-racing heart, but the cold breath on the back of your neck isn’t helping. “Utahime, is that you—” You turn to look at your friend, who’s cautiously moving closer to you, when a piercing female scream echoes throughout the hotel.

“Can we cancel this night?” Utahime doesn’t wait for your answer, grabbing your arm and dragging you into a frantic sprint down the corridors, where more and more doors seem to open and close on their own.

Then, suddenly, something grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the darkness.

When you finally open your eyes, you’re half-sprawled on the floor in partial darkness, with only the faint candlelight the hotel keeps in the eerie corridors as a precaution. You stand up immediately, pulling out your phone in an attempt to send a message to your friends’ group chat, but no one is active.

You then try to call reception, your eyes scanning an environment that no longer feels amusing in the slightest. This has to be part of the game.

Doesn’t it?

But after several rings, no one picks up.

“Goddamnit,” you mutter.

You resign yourself to finding a door, a room, or anything that could help you call the police or figure out a way to avoid getting caught by a real ghost in this creepy manor.

Your gaze scans the walls, your phone’s light barely illuminating the darkest corners due to its low battery. And the only thing that stands out is a notice pinned to the wall that has you scrambling to get your phone out again.

IN CASE OF EMERGENCY DURING THE HALLOWEEN HUNT, IF THE RECEPTION DOESN’T RESPOND, CALL THIS NUMBER:

You dial it, barely caring who it might reach given the seriousness of your situation.

After the second ring, someone picks up, their tone filled with mocking amusement and a hint of nonchalance:

“Hello?”

You’re saved.

~~~~

Back to square one — you’re anything but saved.

“This is the emergency response?” you spit out, feeling lost and baffled as you stand before a man approaching you about twenty minutes after a more-than-frustrating phone call.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with toned muscles and an arrogance that seeps from every pore of his skin.

“Toji Fushiguro, at your service, ma’am,” he replies sarcastically, giving a slight bow, a smug smile stretching the scar across his mouth.

“And you are…?”

“A curse hunter — don’t ask too many questions, I’m used to it,” he cuts you off, striding past without a glance. “Just follow me.”

You stand there, speechless, frozen to see if he’ll react, but he just keeps whistling and walking.

You were in deep trouble.

Reluctantly, you catch up, glaring at him coldly as he gives you a quick glance. “Do you have the money?”

“That’s really all you care about?” you retort bitterly. “Isn’t the hotel supposed to cover emergencies like this? We’re all lost, and—”

“Careful!!” Toji pushes you against the wall, pulling out a unique sword with a red and gold hilt and slashing it sharply through the air.

Nothing seems to have been hit at the moment, but the distinct sound of the slice is unmistakable.

“So, it wasn’t a joke when they said there were ghosts?”

“Curses,” he corrects, sheathing his weapon. He surveys the rest of the hallway and looks up at the ceiling. “They’re on the floor above.”

Several minutes later, you’re there, with high-pitched screams filling the air; among them, you recognize Utahime’s and some of your other friends. You start to rush to her, but Toji grabs you by the waist.

“Hold up!” he tuts, looking a bit more serious. “The lady stays here.”

“But my friend is in there!” you protest, struggling to break free.

“What a little firebrand!” Toji grumbles, pinning you against the wall. His warm breath brushes your face, and you hold back the urge to kick him. When he breathes in to speak, your intoxicating scent fills his nose. “I’m the pro here, got it? I’ll save your friend, and then we’ll talk about the price.” He releases you when you hold his gaze firmly enough to make him trust you.

“If anything happens to her, I’ll make you eat every one of your damn curses, okay?”

He snorts before disappearing down the corridor.

In the next hour, all the curses are quickly neutralized — even if no one actually sees them, their heavy, lingering “presence” was enough to give away what was happening.

“Most people went back to their rooms,” Toji informs you, guiding you toward your floor.

“That was fast.”

“As usual,” he sighs, hands in his pockets.

“Why isn’t the staff responding?” you ask, feeling more reassured and open to conversation now.

“It’s a real haunted manor, so they know that when you play, you just risk being bugged by the curses, nothing more.” He shrugs, pulling out his phone to check the time, and you mentally slap yourself for noticing how his forearm muscles flex slightly. “Plus those fuckers are never there on time to pay me, even though they require my services.”

“Oh, right, your payment…” You avert your eyes, walking past your room without entering. Maybe it’s best to go look for the staff…right?

“I only take cash,” Toji says, putting his phone away. “And I charge by the half-hour.”

You blink, swallowing nervously because you know you lied earlier on the phone when he told you the amount he typically earns per job.

“…Yeah?”

He chuckles softly, stopping to face you, while you do the same. Up close, he’s breathtaking — his emerald-green eyes, sharply defined jaw, his whole form could have been sculpted from ice.

“That’ll cost you 33,000 yens, ma’am.”

“What?!”

“Unless you’re offering alternative methods of payment. I’m flexible, by nature,” he adds ironically.

Your face falls, and you try to stay calm, knowing you’re in real trouble if he realizes you barely have enough for a can of soda.

“Great, so, I’m going to get paid by a pretty lady, huh?” he whispers, leaning in dangerously close until your back gently hits the wall.

“Can’t you lower the price?” you ask, slightly flustered, forcing a smile to hide the panic clutching at your insides. “Maybe my friends and I can work something out to pay you.”

“But it’s the one who calls who pays,” Toji coos softly, lifting a hand to play with a strand of your hair. “They didn’t ask for anything.”

“But they were saved,” you insist, feeling like a pleading child trying to avoid punishment.

Toji gently shakes his head, a barely-there smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? Maybe he’ll take care of it, then.”

“Yes, but…” You feel a chill at the mention of your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen since the start of the evening, “we need to find him. He’s probably asleep.”

“Describe him to me, I’ll tell you if he’s around,” Toji murmurs, and his words feel like a subtle threat as you describe him. His brow furrows. “You sure?”

“Yes, why?” Suddenly, your heart starts pounding faster.

What’s with that reaction?

He doesn’t respond, darting off down the hallway without waiting for you to catch up — though you do, anyway. It’s as if each step drives a knife deeper into your chest.

Please, don’t tell me they—

You freeze, stopping in front of a room with a slightly open door, where your boyfriend is indeed present.

But he’s not alone.

Perched above him on a sofa is Nami, straddling him, passionately kissing him. The worst part is seeing them smile at each other without noticing you, your boyfriend’s hands gently stroking his “friend’s” hips.

“They have been here since I came.”

You flutter your eyes closed.

Toji stands silently beside you. “So, he’s cheating on you, or am I wrong?” he murmurs, perhaps also feeling uncomfortable at the sight.

You step back, your chest tight, biting your lip. You hold back tears of both anger and hurt. It stings a thousand times more seeing your partner betray you like this rather than just admitting he no longer loves you, doesn’t it?

You look up at Toji, your eyes likely already red and gleaming.

No, this is definitely anger. You just want to let some curse devour him whole.

“I don’t have the money, sorry,” you admit through clenched teeth, turning on your heel to leave. “Do whatever you want; I don’t care anymore.”

“Hey.” He loosely grabs your wrist, stopping you.

You barely turn back. You’re hurt, yes, but also furious that you didn’t end things with your boyfriend yourself. What a shame, right? It should’ve been you hurting him, not him hurting—

“You know what I see?” Toji takes a few steps toward you, a mocking smile on his lips. He leans in to speak near your ear, his well-built chest brushing against yours. “I see someone filled with rage. You want revenge, don’t you?”

But you’re in no mood to laugh.

He sighs, realizing his attempt at humor fell flat. “Alright, alright. Listen.” He stands in front of you, hands still in his pockets as he leans against the wall. “I’m not the best at comforting people, but… how about a deal?”

You blink.

“We’re both in an… awkward situation, you see. I need to get paid, and you’re on the brink of committing murder.” A smile spreads across his lips.

You still don’t smile.

“So,” he looks down, a bit distracted and uncomfortable despite his smug expression, “I wasn’t totally joking when I said I’d accept other forms of payment. Plus, I think your lil’ guy here needs someone to teach him a less—”

But you cut him off instantly, grabbing the collar of his black T-shirt with both hands and pulling him toward you to crush your lips against his.

Toji, surprised for a second, quickly recovers, gripping your hips to pull you impossibly closer, his lips following yours, attempting to soothe the fury they carry in anger.

He moves backward with you, eyes closed as he pushes open another slightly ajar door to a room, kicking it shut behind him. He pulls back, watching you intently.

Your gaze softens oddly as it meets his. He raises an eyebrow, almost repeating his question from a minute ago, and you nod. “I accept,” you murmur, and his face lights up.

Leaning toward you again, his lips capture yours in another heated kiss that ignites with raw desire. “Fuck. What kind of boyfriend he is, huh?” Toji growls between breathless kisses. “With a girlfriend with lips this sweet, hmm?”

Your feet tangle with his, each step unsure, trying to avoid falling anywhere other than the softness of the couch. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, but everything about Toji makes breathing impossible. “Toji, you—”

“Bet he’s got a small one, doesn’t he?” The blush flooding your face makes him smirk, his scar brushing your jaw as his mouth descends to your pulse. “Knew it.” He nips at your shoulder, his tongue darting out to leave a mark that’ll remind you of him for a good while.

“Toji, please—” you sigh, wincing in pleasure as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck, leaving two hickeys in his wake. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the sweet sounds spilling out — especially when he brings his knee up between your legs, rubbing it sloppily against your heated core.

“Let ’em out, doll,” he mutters, his hands roaming across your chest slowly before he yanks, popping the buttons off and exposing your bare skin to him. “I want him to hear just how good I make you feel, how loud I can make you scream my name.”

He doesn’t even give you time to protest; he’s already unclasping your bra and kneading your soft breasts, leaving you arching with pleasure from his teasing alone. And if his hands can do this... what about his cock?

He takes his time, pinching and rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. You moan for real this time, back arching, chest heaving with quickened breaths. “Ahh— Wan’ more,” you whine, the sound going straight to his strained, clothed arousal.

“Am I the one who’s supposed to be saying that?” Toji laughs, enjoying the sight of you squirming and pouting under his teasing, his tongue swirling and rolling over one breast while his fingers toy with the other.

“Toji.”

He lifts his head, pulling his mouth from your breast with a wet pop and tilting his head to the side, that devilish grin still on his lips. “What is it, doll?” He doesn’t even bother wiping away the thin string of saliva connecting his lips to your sensitive nipple.

You writhe beneath him, trying to shimmy off your pants, but the tight space between you two makes the task more challenging than expected.

He chuckles — a rough sound — and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head, trapping you beneath him. “Getting needy, are we? Looks like you need a hand,” he coos, sliding his thick fingers down your bare chest before slipping the tip of his finger under your waistband.

The touch is electrifying. Both infuriating and warm, as Toji tests your patience.

With his finger still just inside your clothing, he trails it down to your hips before stopping. “Lift your hips for me.” You obey, his low “good girl” making your poor core clench around nothing. His finger is soon joined by the rest of his hand, and he easily slides it down to remove your pants in one smooth motion. “There you go…”

“When I said I wanted more, I meant here,” you mumble, glancing down at the small damp patch in the center of your panties, so exposed for him.

“Naughty, huh?” Toji releases your wrists, kneeling down between your thighs. He grips your hips tightly, his thumbs pressing firmly, leaving slight indents in your skin. “So pretty, so soft,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your inner thighs, kissing and nibbling until you’re gasping.

“You— You’re teasing,” you pant, burying your fingers in his dark hair, tugging lightly when he brushes his nose against your puffy clit through the damp fabric.

“I am,” he admits, laying the flat of his tongue over the wet patch before inhaling. “Smells and tastes so good, doll.” And your cheeks go flush again as he quickly strips your panties off and tosses them onto the couch’s headrest.

“Sh-shut up!”

“You’re adorable when I get dirty with you, but you’re just as dirty, so don’t,” he says, wrapping his sculpted arms around your hips and pulling you against his face. “try to turn the tables,” he finishes, his voice muffled between your drenched folds. “Wonder why that jerk cheated on you,” he adds, lapping at your clit as you let out needy whimpers.

“Shit. Easy, I’m sensitive,” you babble, digging your nails into his shoulder as he starts devouring you with real intent.

“Love those sounds, by the way,” he murmurs, sucking on your sweet bundle of nerves, ignoring the persistent ache in his pants as his cock begs to be freed, desperate to plunge deep inside you.

Your eyelids flutter closed, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, trying to keep Toji’s name from spilling from your mouth as he tightens his grip on you, practically smashing your soaked core against his face but the way his lips close everytime around your clit with slowness is just unbearable.

Sounds of heavy breaths, licks, and wetness fill the room, turning the atmosphere almost sauna-like. Your pulse pounds in your temples, your heartbeat frantic.

“You’re still not loud enough.” And he remedies that quickly, pressing his nose against your clit as he slowly thrusts his tongue inside you, your walls clenching around it with lewd, wet sounds because of how slick you are for him. And now, he’s thrusting his tongue even deeper, humming in approval when you throw your head back, tugging harder on his dark locks.

“Shit! Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” you cry out, toes curling as your nails dig into his skin before scratching it up.

“That’s it,” he purrs, helping you buck your hips against him as you mewl and moan thanks to his tongue. “Let him hear how good ya feel, yeah?” He brings a hand to your clit to rub it gently, then pinches it roughly. He bullies your snug cunt with each deep and precise thrust of his tongue, brushing your sweet spot every time, and you’re sure you’ll die if you don’t come right after.

And he probably knows it, because as if reading your mind, he withdraws his tongue from your twitching insides and licks his lips shamelessly — your glossy juices shining on them.

“Wanna hear how good you feel louder, doll, ’kay?” He brings a finger to your trembling entrance, pressing gently against the delicious barrier just waiting to be crossed. “You’re so close, baby,” he chuckles, eyes dilated with desire. “Hear me out, I’m gonna make you cum, and you’re gonna be a good girl. Understood?” He gently pats your thigh.

You nod, lips trembling from anticipation, eyes half-closed as he inserts his forefinger into you — and now you’re even tighter with his digit replacing his tongue. How would it feel with something bigger? The pad of his finger hits your sensitive g-spot right away.

“Ah!” you whine. The knot in your stomach coils tighter, ready to explode. “Toji, I’m almost cumming, please, just—”

He cuts you off, a low grunt escaping his lips as he crashes his mouth on your clit, treating it like a toy and bullying it over and over until you can’t stop your legs from shaking uncontrollably — as he finger-fucks you and sucks on your oversensitive clit.

“Fuck! Feels s’good, Toji, please,” you moan, your insides throbbing around his finger, while his second finger joins the first, finger-fucking you as you squirm on the couch, feeling the wet patch under your ass marking the mess you’re making.

“Cum, doll, now,” Toji orders, his voice strained, unable to ignore the throbbing in his own pants. His mouth is relentless on your clit, his fingers curling inside you just right, as if coaxing your body to surrender completely.

Right at the edge, you wrap your legs around his neck, sobbing out his name as you cum — hard. Your walls clamp down around his fingers, your body trembling as you release.

Your boyfriend never made you cum this hard, not even close.

You realize you actually squirted when you hear Toji swallowing, his eyes fluttering closed as he drinks every drop, even as your body keeps spasming after he finally pulls his fingers out of you.

When your breathing slows, Toji pulls back from your thighs, looking up to meet your gaze after the powerful orgasm he just brought you to.

“Tell me…” He licks the last traces of you off his chin, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that the first time you’ve squirted?” he asks, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your oversensitive clit.

You bite back a whimper, trying to steady your trembling legs. “Y-Yeah,” you confess, swallowing hard, noticing his black shirt dampened with your cum. “I didn’t mean to make that mess, I’m sorry—”

“Why’re you apologizing?” He kisses your inner thigh, soothing your shakiness with soft caresses. “The only one who should be begging for forgiveness is the jerk in the other room,” he mutters in a low, rough voice. The contrast between his tender kisses and harsh words about your boyfriend makes your heart skip a beat. “I bet he’s crying like a lil’ boy,” he chuckles.

You force a smile, though there’s still a slight sting from the betrayal. “He should be, yeah.”

His expression softens. “C’mon, doll, don’t give me that look,” he sighs, rising from his crouched position to remove his pants. “Just forget him, even if it’s hard, hmm?” He ignores the growing bulge in his boxers, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hum, kissing him back slowly, eyes closed. With each kiss, you feel a warmth, a tenderness there that surprises you. Why do his lips feel so gentle, so... caring? A feeling you can’t quite place?

Between kisses, you take soft breaths, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. He doesn’t resist, his tongue teasing along your soft, warm lips.

“Want to stop?” he murmurs, his voice unexpectedly soft and low.

You flutter your eyes open and shake your head. “I’d like to continue, if you don’t wanna stop,” you mutter back.

His gaze softens more, seeing you beneath him, flushed and vulnerable. “Of course. I don’t think I could stop even if I tried… especially not with…” His gaze drops, his cheeks flushing slightly, “...this.”

You glance down at his painfully hard length pressing against his boxers, the small wet patch testifying to how badly he wants you.

“Mm, sorry,” he grumbles.

But you gently cup his face, pulling him into another kiss as you reach down to slip his boxers off. He helps you free him from his strained confines, and you both share a heated kiss. Toji leans over you, leaving soft kisses along your lips, cheeks, jaw, and down your neck.

The tender moment gradually heats up as impatience grows, your legs tangling with his. When something warm brushes your stomach, you shiver, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist.

His size… he’s big. His cock is thick and already straining, eager to be buried deep inside you.

“Can you fuck me?” you whisper, blinking up at him with soft, pleading eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Toji chuckles, a low rumble shaking his chest.

He grabs you by the hips, laying you down on the couch to position you as he aligns himself at your entrance. Toji takes his cock in his hand and guides it to you, so big compared to your cute, petite pussy that’s about to take all of him in so well…

When the flushed tip of his cock brushes against your soaked folds, you hold your breath to keep from moaning even before he’s begun. But Toji can be a bastard in his own way — drawing slow, torturous circles around your puffy clit, then sliding down to gather your juices from between your folds, which he spreads apart to make room for him.

“As honest as you,” he scoffs, gently tapping your tight ring of resistance with the tip. He looks down at you, your form much smaller than his — Toji is big all over, from his muscles to his cock, and all he wants is to ruin your smallness.

And this bastard keeps eye contact, teasing the entrance with his slick tip, just to watch you break — your lips parted, eyes slightly squinted, hands weakly gripping him.

“Toji,” you moan weakly, squirming gently. “Please, just more, please.” And your voice is so soft, so velvety, he might have come right then.

Oh God, you’ll be the death of him.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you keep repeating his name in that same tone, making his urge to slip inside you unbearable.

“Fuck, doll, don’t moan my name like that or—” But you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling his tip to your dripping entrance so that it’s already inside, your gummy, warm walls tightening around him, drawing him in deeper.

“I wanna take it,” you whine softly, bucking your hips forward, your snug cunt swallowing half of him. “Oh—”

“Ah— Shit,” Toji hisses, leaning down to press your small body against his, burying his face in your neck. But the worst part is, he seems to lose control of his body, which thrusts deeper into you on its own, your clingy walls gripping him tightly from the start.

He stretches you too quickly, but it feels so good you wonder if you might be ovulating. “Ah— Oh— Fuck, s’deep, s’big,” you babble, low and cute mumbles, as you curl your toes and roll your eyes back from his size. “Too big, Toji, too big.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He pushes in even deeper until you’ve taken all of him and his tip brushes your womb.

Without even moving, he nearly came. But he has to hold back. To make you come on his cock, fuck you senseless, and let you scream his name so that the entire manor knows you’re his.

“Mine,” Toji groans, thrusting gently into you once you’ve adjusted, his hips meeting yours perfectly. “So wet f’me.” His breathing becomes ragged, his thoughts consumed by how impossibly tight you are. “And so fuckin’ tight.” He speeds up the pace a little, reveling in the sound of your mewls growing louder. “Gonna make you mine tonight, ’kay?”

In the room, only the squelching sounds and the slap of skin against skin fill the air. Your mind spins, the pleasure so intense and overwhelming that you can barely respond to what Toji says.

You’re reduced to a pile of whimpers, thinking only of TojiTojiTojiToji.

And he knows it, especially as you tighten around him and he lets out a guttural groan. His hips pound into you with more speed and roughness, but it’s still not enough. He wants you to fall apart for him when you cum, fucking your little pussy with his big, big cock.

Such a filthy size kink.

Then he pulls out, grabbing your hips to flip you over onto your stomach, making sure the plush cushions support you properly, and he slams back in, pounding rougher, deeper, and so much better than a second ago.

Now, you feel him at a depth you’ve never reached before, your sweet cunt clinging to him each time he pulls out only to push in just as deep. “Ah! So deep, so deep, Toji,” you sniffle, unable to keep your moans quiet any longer. “Wanna cum, gonna cum with you.” You bury your face between two cushions.

The heat between your two bodies is almost unbearable, small beads of sweat rolling down Toji’s toned chest as he chuckles, half-breathless, leaning over you to sink even deeper.

And you wonder how it’s even possible.

“You take it so well, doll,” he purrs, tightening his grip around your waist as your twitching insides pulse around his cock, right on the edge of making him spill his hot load inside you. But the rhythmic slap of his heavy balls against your clit is enough to keep him from the edge, for now. “You want to be filled up? Say it, baby. I don’t—  No, he can’t hear you,” he chuckles, kissing your neck as the depth makes you see stars through tears of pleasure.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine louder, “wanna be full of your cum, please, Toji.” His thick, heavy balls are now the biggest turn-on, so big you just want to drain them to fill yourself up. “I’m close, so close,” you sob, pleading with him.

“Me too, doll, so let’s cum together, yeah?” he chortles, because, God, how small and cute you are. He admires, for a moment, the hickeys covering your skin and the scratches you left on his arms. He’s fucking you like a mad, possessed man.

You sniffle, nodding and writhing to take him fully, but you already have. Your wet, tight, warm cunt swallowing him up, desperate for every inch. He’ll fulfill his mission. Even if he wasn’t paid, he stopped caring about that long ago. Now he just wants youyouyou.

And as your synchronized hip movements, bringing the both of you to the edge, you cum hard again. Your sweet pussy clenches around his length, swallowing and milking him as your shaky legs can’t support you anymore. A cry of pleasure escapes you. Toji shuts his eyes, moaning your name as he empties himself inside you, filling your womb with his thick, sinful load.

Only stolen breaths, the overwhelming scent of sex, and small whimpers remain in the aftermath. Silence falls, all troubles vanish, and the night finally grows peaceful.

You wipe away the dried tear tracks on your cheeks and turn your head slightly to meet Toji’s calm gaze. “What about my shirt?”

“I’ve got a spare; want it?” he offers, not pulling out right away. You simply nod, and he adds with a smirk, “An’ if you’re free tonight, you’re up for a little getaway with me?”

“But Utahime and—”

“They’ll wake up like nothing happened, I promise,” Toji reassures you, and you grin.

“Deal.”

~~~~

Meanwhile, back in the room with Nami and your ex, a 4 grade curse — harmless but just annoying enough — flits around happily. Nami is fast asleep on the floor, but your ex has dark bags under his twitching eyes, having not slept a wink.

Between your cries of pleasure and everything else that went on, he understood that the mysterious man who had come to “rescue” them was thoroughly enjoying everything he’d been hoping to do with you for weeks, despite your refusals — the reason behind your “break” or rather, breakup. The curse, left by Toji on purpose, has a parrot effect: it repeats everything it hears in a loop, driving anyone nearby mad.

“Ah! Shit, Toji! Feels so good!” it shrieks in a piercing voice, buzzing around your ex’s head like a fly.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

a/n: hey everyone :) so okay okay, this fic contains much more smut than i usually write (hope at least it’ll be worth it haha). i still feel bad about having missed kinkoctober but anyway, at least we’re here <3 i’ve struggled a bit with the start of the fic but the smut was (for once lol) quite easy to write. happy reading <33

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobeenhappy-blog @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq

@sanemistar @monokaix

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Felix x you

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: romance, best friend to lovers

warnings: none, except that i am not satisfied at all with this but I’ve read it so many times I’m starting to hate it. I might edit heavily later

The moment you park outside the restaurant Lixie is in, you press the call button. Faking an emergency is not too hard, you talk about a friend getting injured and at the hospital, exaggerating your tone and almost making Felix laugh.

He’s out in less than five minutes. Under his bright smile there’s something you can’t decipher. He gets in your car and just his presence makes you happy. Everyone loves Felix, and you’re not immune to his charm either. He’s always kind, generous, sweet and funny. You’re really lucky to have him in your life.

“Ice cream?”

“Yes, please.” It’s so funny to hear his deep voice in such a childish tone.

You don’t press for answers about his date during the drive to your favorite ice cream place, you put on some music and sing loudly with him. Save for that indecipherable look in his eyes, he seems pretty normal.

You take your ice creams and decide to take a walk on the riverside. The wind is pretty chill, but neither of you mind too much. It’s him who brings up the date he was on.

“The date… it was like a blind date. But I didn’t know it was a date until it was too late.”

“Uh- what?” It doesn’t make sense: how did he manage to go on a date without knowing?

“Hannie.” Yeah, maybe it makes sense. Jisung means well, but most of the time the execution is, at best, messy.

“How did he get you?”

“He begged me to go on a double date on the premise it was just because this girl he wanted to go out with was wary of going out alone with him so she’d bring a friend with, but we were supposed to be just wingmen. Or so he told me.”

He licks his ice cream and shakes his head.

“About 10 minutes before we were supposed to meet he called and told me it was a lie and it was a blind date…”

You’re not sure as to what to say. It is very on brand for Jisung, but you can also understand how frustrating it can be for Felix. He’s a sweetheart, he must have felt guilty for having unwillingly misled the girl.

“I couldn’t just leave and stand her up. She knew nothing about the lie, so it wasn't her fault.”

“Was she nice, at least?”

He nods, but he seems almost distracted. “She was nice. Pretty and funny, to be honest.”

“Why didn’t you stay, then?”

He slows down to a stop, and the moment you notice you turn around to look at him, a question on your face. He cleans his mouth with the small napkin and exhales with a small grimace.

“Lix?”

“Because I like you. And I’m not interested in other girls.”

He likes you. Felix likes you. And not in a friendly way. In a like like way. You weren’t expecting that.

“I-“ you start, but you don’t know how to continue that sentence. What do you say to your best friend who just said he likes you? Do you even like him? You’ve always been pretty good at keeping your feelings in check, so after knowing him, when it was clear you were headed towards just being friends, that’s what you set your mind -and your heart- to. He’s your friend, and you didn’t even ever consider more.

“I’m sorry. I’ve kept it from you for a while but I couldn’t anymore. That’s why Jisung insisted on this date. He was trying to distract me.” He turns slightly to watch at the river flowing fast but quietly. “Things don't have to change. If you don’t feel the same it’s okay, but I’d like to stay friends if you’re okay with that. I don’t wanna lose you.”

The idea of Felix losing you is ridiculous to you, nothing is ever gonna make you distance yourself from him. You try to tell him so by hugging him. “Lixie, we’ll always be friends, no matter what.”

You speak into his jacket, and maybe it’s easier this way.

“I thought we were only meant to be friends, so I didn’t even consider looking at you in a different way.” You can feel him tense under your hug. “Wait, wait, listen to me please.” Still hugging him you try to look at him, a smile on your lips. He’s your best friend, he’s the best person you’ve ever met. Being liked by him is an honor, and if you think about it, trying to be something more it’s not something that you hate.

“You’re my best friend, Lix. You know I love you, and I think you’re perfect. I never let myself think about you like that, but I know that if I give it a chance, it’d be so easy to fall in love with you romantically.”

“You don’t have to make yourself like me.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d be lucky to love you. Give me a chance?”

He’s smiling now, and he’s so so pretty like this. He’s always pretty, you tell him constantly, but when he smiles it’s his best look.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure Lixie. Let me take you out on a date? I promise to spoil you…”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?”

“It’s okay. You can ask next time.” You kiss him on his cheek and hold his hand, making him resume your stroll.

He really is easy to love, and not even a month later you ask yourself how you ever managed not to be head over heels in love with your best friend boyfriend.

[star-girl69]

I Did Something Bad

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: you somehow become the target of a deadly vendetta, and it ends in an overnight stay in the infirmary, a lot of blood, and a lot of your scary girlfriend being her scary self.

a/n: save me clarisse “touch her and die” la rue save me save me save me save me save me save me… this is a completely self indulgent fic and no i will not apologize. love y’all!!!!!

inspired by an ask @nvirskies sent me

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

warnings: not proofread, VERY VIOLENT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF Y/N GETTING INJURED!!!!! BLOOD!!!!! WOUNDS!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, anyways…. DANNNNNYYYYYY MY BABY!!!!! HES BACK!!!!!, ares cabin bonding time <3, FOUND FAMILY, y/n is crazy too, insane power couple who are insane together!!, y’all know what’s going on…… protective clarisse, possessive clarisse, insane clarisse, murderous clarisse, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, swearing, attempted murder!, LOTS of violence, kissing, clarisse hates talking about her feelings but she will do it for y/n, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

It’s the one place where she really gets to be in her element. That’s where she prefers to be- in the moment, hard and fast, a flurry of swords and adrenaline and the feeling of someone surrendering.

Of course, Clarisse is never the one surrendering. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone surrender to her.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

And that love is also shared by her equally violently-minded siblings, which is why you’re sitting on her lap in the middle of the Ares cabin, listening to everyone scream and shout about tactics and plans and things that are just general boring.

Clarisse, of course, listens to everything. Silently humming to herself, drumming her fingers against your stomach, rolling her eyes and scoffing silently at some of her siblings ideas.

They all shout out ideas, but everyone knows that Clarisse has the final say.

You should probably be preparing with your own cabin- but this is just so much fun.

The tension in the room rises significantly after Nelson shuts down another one of Carrie’s ideas. Carrie has a mind made for the strategy of battle, where Nelson is all tough war and pain.

Clarisse likes to brag that she’s the perfect mix of both.

“I’m bored,” you huff, leaning back into your girlfriend. “Can they start punching each other again? Or something entertaining?”

She laughs and wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “You’re so violent,” she mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the violent one.”

“I jus’ think it’s really funny,” you shrug. “Like, can you blame me? It’s objectively funny.”

Danny, your favorite of Clarisse’s siblings, skitters through his older siblings and throws himself onto the couch next to you.

“Did they start fighting yet?” he asks, practically bouncing in his seat.

“No,” you sigh, dramatically.

Clarisse puts her arm around his shoulder, and you know she feels ridiculously proud over the fact that she’s the favorite of the most lovable member of the Ares cabin, and the fact you’re literally draped over her.

Not your fault she’s so comfy.

“Hey, how you feelin’ about tomorrow?” you ask Danny.

His face hardens. “I’m gonna fuck a bitch up.”

“Oh, my Gods,” you mutter, listening to Clarisse chuckle and pat his back.

“Hell yeah,” she smiles.

“Good!” you say after a second, feeling slightly disturbed over the 11 year-old’s colorful language. But, who are you to stop him?

Clarisse sighs after a moment, and you look up to see Carrie and Nelson finally at each other’s throats. Besides for the fact it’s just so funny when the siblings fight, they should get all of the anger out now so they can work as a team tomorrow.

“Well, no, Nelson, we aren’t gonna fucking ‘kill them with kindness,’ because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, fuckers,” Clarisse says, but they’re too absorbed in the fight to hear her.

You scramble off of her, climbing over Danny, watching in amazement as he opens the bag of pretzels he did not have in his hand a second ago- stuffing one in his mouth and holding it out to you.

These pretzels might have been buried in between the couch cushions. But they’re sealed, so who cares.

“You know what, fuck you, Carrie!” Nelson shouts, pushing her back.

“Askin’ for it,” she laughs, winding up and punching him straight in the face.

You can’t feel bad for the crunch, because Nelson should have know Carrie was gonna punch him- he could have at least put in an effort to stop her. Instead, he just stood there and took it.

“Oh,” Matty winces, sliding next to you. Why the hell are random things just appearing? Did he come out of the cushions too? Probably, seeing as he’s always falling asleep. “Askin’ for it,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

Nelson recovers from the hit and jabs at Carrie- but she stands there, hand on her hip, completely still.

Clarisse catches his arm.

He’s breathing out heavily, and the room goes pretty much silent- except for you, Danny and Matty chomping on pretzels in the corner of the couch.

“You’re fuckin’ embarrassing, Nelson.”

He pulls himself away from her and huffs, heading to the bathroom to deal with his bright red cheek.

Clarisse sighs heavily.

“Gods, can’t have one night without someone punching someone.”

Carrie looks around the room with a smug smile, scoffing when Clarisse shoulders her as she walks past. She lays down in your waiting arms, kissing your hand as you wrap them around her.

“Gettin’ on my nerves,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning into you.

“I know,” you soothe, turning around and making a silly face to Danny at her dramatics.

—-

Nelson is obviously still angry the next day. His helmet doesn’t cover all of the nasty bruise on his cheek, a sickening purple against his tan skin.

Him and Carrie swap glares across the the throngs of red helmets.

“Okay, Carrie, stop,” you huff. “He might actually kill you. You’re the one who got a punch in- let it go.”

She turns to glare at you, now.

“Tell him to stop staring at me.”

“Well, you can help by looking away first.”

“Fine,” she mumbles, putting her helmet on and tightening her grip on her sword. Chiron made his usual speech around 10 minutes ago, and Clarisse has finally finished updating everyone- more like yelling incoherently at everyone- about their positions.

But you have a similar strategy.

The blue team has the brains of the Athena Cabin, but the red team has all the brute strength.

Clarisse huffs, walking over to you and Carrie.

“Okay, ready?” she asks, reaching over to tighten the straps of your armor- even through they’re perfectly fine- by habit.

Carrie let’s out a deep breath. ���Yes. Very ready to fuckin’ pummel those blue shits and pretend they’re Nelson.”

“That’s the spirit!” you smile, slapping her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and steps away from you, smiling slightly.

Danny and Matty walk over, and your little band is complete. You hunt in the woods just south of the flag, deterring a lot of hopefuls. The older campers know to come up with sneakier ways to get by, but Clarisse is otherwise confident in those she placed by the flag to really protect it.

You strike out into an offensive stance, pointing the end of your blade straight at Danny- and he quickly counters with his own impeccable stance.

“Oh, yeah, they don’t stand a chance,” you smile, and he returns it.

—-

You take your normal routes through the woods.

With the added weight of you and Danny, the group is not as stealthy as they could be- but Clarisse is a secret teddy bear who doesn’t like to be away from you for long, and Danny is too young to be set loose, left to watch the big kids work, occasionally jumping in for a few swings.

Leaves crunch under your feet in the otherwise silent forest. You’ve already come across a few stragglers, and before you could even raise your sword the Ares siblings had disarmed them. Your heart squeezed seeing the absolutely heartbroken look on Danny’s face- he was promised that this time he could really fight.

And after you pulled Clarisse off to the side and reminded her of her deal- Danny was leading the group, with you and Clarisse behind him.

He marches tall and proud, sword pointed out, even though Clarisse scolds him and says his arm will get tired- he’s young and doesn’t listen to his half-sibling.

You smile, watching him, admiring how carefree he is. The walk continues mostly in a stealthy silence- Clarisse, Carrie and Matty has mastered the art of walking silently- so your cover is lost by you and Danny.

Of course, whenever you try to convince Clarisse that maybe you should go somewhere else- she looks at you like you’ve suddenly turned into a female Minotaur.

Clarisse, her hand in yours right now, has a hard time understanding the concept that she can’t be with you all the time. That you might get hurt, that she can’t always stop it.

It’s sweet how constantly concerned she is over you, it makes your stomach twist so good.

She squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your reverie. Voices.

“Danny,” you whisper, almost silently, kicking the back of his leg. When he turns around, frown on his face, you point towards the direction of the voices- and now footsteps.

You all stop in your tracks.

Danny practically jumps up in down, you smile wide, and Clarisse signals to Carrie and Matty, urging you and Danny closer to the action.

When they come into the clearing, a few Hermes kids dressed in blue bandanas, swords in their hands. They’re all strong, you’ve seen them around- recognize them vaguely as potentials that lost to Clarisse in ugly sparring matches.

The siblings have disappeared into the trees.

So it’s just you, unsuspecting, and Danny.

You can see the triumphant looks on their faces.

Except for one of them.

Nicky, maybe? You don’t care enough about him to know his name. But there’s something more in his eyes that you notice immediately, something similar to the passion Clarisse gets in her eyes at the mention of this game.

Danny jumps forward, sword swinging just the way his blood knows, the way his siblings have taught him meticulously.

They seem momentarily surprised at the force his small body can produce, quickly countering with their own jabs, swords clashing together. The other focuses on you.

You’re not worried, you know the siblings are just letting the two of you have your moments before they really come in and you can sit back and watch Clarisse fight. Muscles rippling, sick smile on her face, spear glowing with electricity.

He comes at you and your swords clash together, the force of it making your teeth ring- Gods, he’s strong. He pulls back and you do the same thing a few more times, neither of you able to get the upper hand- until he finally seems to realize his height advantage.

He swings his sword down on you, pressing down hard- and with gravity on his side you have to put all of your focus into stopping that downward sword.

You don’t see his foot coming out to kick you back.

You only feel it, boot in your chest, wind knocked out of you, groaning as you slam into the ground.

“Fuck,” you breathe, tasting blood in your mouth.

“Y/N!” Danny shouts, and that’s when you see his sword coming down on you again. He does it on purpose, that much is sword, the strategic placing of his sword slicing through the top of your arm.

He doesn’t mean to kill you. He means to hurt you.

His purpose isn’t winning the game, you realize as the blade tears through skin, his purpose is to hurt you. That’s what you saw in his eyes.

Delight that his prey was right in front of him.

The realization washes over you like a wave- but like the real ocean, another one comes- an overwhelming feeling of pain, blooming outward like a flower.

He bites his lip in concentration, standing over you as his blade sinks into the dirt. He smiles wide, hitting his target.

You scream.

It’s a quick stop. The clearing is filled with the sound of your screams, swords stopping in midair- everyone realizing simultaneously that you’re really hurt. That this boy hurt you on purpose.

Something cuts through the air, wind in your ears, swiftly burying itself through Nicky’s armor and into his side.

You’ve realized in the last day that men are stupid. First, it was Nelson not expecting to get punched, and now it was Nicky not prepared for a retaliation after hurting you.

The thick armor slowed down the spear, so it unfortunately stabs his side and falls right out.

He yells in pain, ripping off his armor, revealing a small cut. Nothing compared to yours, but you can faintly recognize the fire in his eyes before Matty is leaning over you and Carrie is wrapping a bandana above the pain in your arm.

You hear the sounds of something happening, someone fighting, skin on skin.

You hear all of this, you see all of it, but all you can feel is the burning, burning cut in your arm. It feels like he cut it off. Your mind is hazy, you know blood is gushing, you never knew something could hurt this bad.

You faintly realize you bit your tongue when you went down. Blood spurts from your mouth when you cough, when you groan in pain, when you say her name like a prayer over and over again.

“Clarisse,” you moan, legs twisting around, trying to get away from the pain that you can’t escape from. “Clarisse, Clarisse, please, Clar…”

Matty pulls your head into his lap.

You can tell it’s bad, you can see the queasy look on his face. You clench your fist- the one you can feel, at least- to keep from screaming, heels digging into the dirt. You’re still trying to get away. But you can’t. You can’t get away from this all consuming pain.

“It’s okay,” Danny whispers, suddenly appearing next to you. He voice shakes, he doesn’t know, he can’t tell you anything reassuring.

“Can you go find someone, Danny? One of the Apollo kids, anyone?”

He ignores Carrie, starring at you for a second longer.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, finally able to act like the young boy he is.

“You can go,” you breathe, somehow finding the strength to make him believe you’re okay. “Go help me, okay?”

His little footsteps disappear into the woods faster than you’ve ever heard him run, even when they have his favorite brownies for dessert.

You let out a sob.

“D-did he cut it off?” you moan. “It feels like he cut it off, please tell me he didn’t… he didn’t cut my arm off…”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Carrie breathes, pressing down agains the wound to try and stop the blood from gushing out- but it doesn’t really help. It’s just too much. “I mean, it’s deep and it’s nasty, but you’ve still got an arm, don’t worry.”

She laughs, awkwardly, nervously. You can feel even more of your arm drifting away, blood pouring out onto the ground.

“Hey, hey, no,” Matty mutters, lightly hitting your face.

“Wha-”

“Can’t fall asleep, Y/N,” Carrie says, nervously. “Sit up against Matty, come on, huh?” you lean against Matty, head clearing now that there’s fresh air in your system.

Your eyes focus on Clarisse.

Except she’s not anywhere near you, she’s 10 feet away, punching Nicky so hard you’re surprised he’s still standing.

Carrie cringes. “Okay, maybe don’t look at that.”

But you’re sort of entranced by her. She’s not outwardly angry, her face reveals nothing- just a mask of hard, unrelenting focus. It should scare you, how much concentration she puts into her deadly punches, blood flying with each hit she lands. Her knuckles are red, his face is a mess, but it’s exhilarating to know she would do this for you.

A sickening crack rents the air. “My fucking nose, fuck, fuck, screw you, you fucking bitch! Fuck-”

The smallest smile creeps it way onto her face. She wipes her mouth, leaving blood on her lips- but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“I can keep going!” she shouts back, grabbing his shirt. “You wanna do that shit? I’m only getting started. I’m gonna throw you around, then I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

“Wait! Wait, okay, wait, shit,” he breathes, holding his hands up in surrender. Blood pours from his nose, down to her hand bunched in his shirt. He’s taller than her, yet he’s surrendering.

“You’re pathetic,” she hisses, pushing him back. He hits the ground with a groan, trying to grab for a rock, a sword, anything to defend himself against Clarisse and her fury.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

One of the reasons why she does is because she gets to let out all her anger. She looks at you, but not in your eyes- she looks at the wound on your arm. You can see the red pouring out of the corner of your eye- but you choose to ignore it, instead focusing on the way the fire inside of her gets relit at the sight of your blood. She has plenty reason to be angry now.

She grabs her spear, sauntering over to him, laughing at the way he can’t even try to get up.

“So fuckin’ stupid,” she smiles, tilting her head. Then the tip of her spear is pointing right at his neck, she’s standing over him the way he did to you. “How’s it feel?” she smiles.

He coughs, hissing in pain.

“I’m scared, Clarisse, okay? You got your fucking revenge, but it wasn’t me.”

She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I just saw you cut her, dumbass. I really should kill you, just as a favor to the world.”

“Paid me,” he coughs. “Drachmas, in exchange for hurting your girlfriend-”

She presses the blade against his throat, he yells out.

“Who?”

He stays silent.

“Who?!” she yells, kicking his stomach.

“Nelson!” he screams. “Nelson! Nelson paid me, please, Clarisse-”

She moves the blade away, and he hisses- she probably just barely drew blood.

“I’m not done yet,” she whispers, deadly promise dripping from her words. She turns around, fades out of focus for a second, and then she’s right next to you.

Her hands are cupping your face, she looks sick, seeing you like this up close- but all she does is kiss your forehead. Like you, she doesn’t want to look at your flesh and blood.

“I’m here, I’m here, oh, fuck. Gods, what the fuck,” she mumbles, looking very pointedly away from the wound, finally seeing how bad it is up close.

“Clarisse.”

“I know,” she whispers, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.”

Danny runs into the clearing, shouting “just over here” while healers follow him, immediately groaning at the smell of blood, the sight of it.

Clarisse switches places with Matty, holding you against her, kissing your head again and again, muttering about how brave you are.

You almost laugh at the odd looks the Apollo kids give her, unused to seeing the big bad Clarisse so soft. But they just don’t know her like you do. She doesn’t love them like she loves you.

One of them starts to clean the blood, and your eyes drift shut as the other starts to mend your skin back together.

—-

You wake up with familiar curly hair in your face.

You spit it out, groaning, mouth feeling fuzzy, everything feelings fuzzy.

“Clarisse?” you mumble, eyes not even open, but you wake up with that hair in your mouth everyday, and you’ve memorized the weight of her arm around your waist.

She sits up immediately, jumping out of bed, standing up and fixing her messy hair like someone’s gonna be there.

“Um, hello? I was speaking, crazy girl.”

“Oh, thank Gods,” she mumbles, blowing hair out of her face and sitting back down. “Thought we got caught.”

You look at her, then your surroundings-

“Oh, holy shit,” she says, staring at you like a deer in headlights. “Wait, you’re awake. You’re awake!”

She throws her arms around you, burying her face into your neck, reverberating with the sound of your laughter.

“You make it sound like I’ve been in a coma for 10 years.” Your heart drops. “Have I… been asleep for a while?”

“Um,” she says, softly, biting her lip as she extricated herself from your neck. “Capture the flag was yesterday, so… no.”

“So you’re just being dramatic?”

“Possibly,” she smiles. “It’s not my fault you’ve taken over my entire brain.” She shows her bruised knuckles, split open, already starting to scab. “I said not to fix ‘em up. They don’t hurt that bad, and they look fucking cool.”

You grab her hands, relieved it’s only been a day, kissing the rough scabs. She blushes, although she tries her best not to, breathing in deeply.

“How are you feeling, baby?”

You look towards your totally healed arm, finally realizing that you know have full control of your hands, unlike yesterday. It’s wrapped in a bandage for precautions, but it feels totally healed.

“All good,” you smile.

“You gotta take it real easy for the next week or so, yeah?” she fusses, brushing hair behind your ear. “So you call me, or one of my siblings, anyone to help you with anything. No lifting heavy stuff, don’t do anything too fast- you might tear the healing.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll carry me around like a princess?” you giggle, laying back, inviting her into your arms. She gets back under the covers, head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Practical. Very safe.”

You hit her shoulder. “I’m joking.”

“Eh, I’ll change your mind.”

You smile, running your hands through her hair, enjoying the early mornings with her warmth against you, soft sunlight peeking through windows.

She sits up after a moment, laying her head back on the pillow, arm back around your waist. She just sits there for a moment, you can feel her admiring you. Clarisse doesn’t look at you. She traces your face with her eyes, imagining it was her hands, her lips, she admires you like she sees a reverence in your eyes that has nothing to do with your godly parent.

“Can you promise me something?” she asks, whispering softly, even though you’re the only two people around.

“What?” you say, staring at the ceiling, feeling like you might fall back asleep.

“Don’t get hurt. Like, ever again, please.”

You smile. “Okay, baby,” you mumble.

“I’m serious,” she smiles, nudging your cheek with her nose. “I… I was really scared. And I don’t like to feel that way, especially when it comes to you. I was angry, too. I was so fuckin’ angry I’m surprised I didn’t kill him. You can’t get hurt like that, not again, you just gotta let me protect you. Or else I might actually kill someone, Y/N.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I watched you.”

“Did I scare you?” she asks, voice soft. There’s no hint of your loving, smiley Clarisse in this bed right now. She’s worried, as if she could ever scare you.

“No,” you say, honestly. “It’s sweet how far you’re willing to go for me.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “You better like it. Do you know what I got for that? Eight months no dessert. Five months cleaning the fuckin’ stables.”

You barely hide your laugh. “Oh, my Gods, are you serious?”

“Yes,” she grumbles. “But, I’ve decided it’s fine. You’re my loving girlfriend, right? You can sit there all pretty so I have something to look at when I’m cleaning. And you’ll share your dessert with me, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, turning your head. “I will.”

“I really love you. My perfect pretty princess,” she jokes, smiling lopsidedly, and you return it. “You’ll let me protect you, and maybe I can get some decent sleep at night, huh?”

When she presses her hand to your face and her lips to yours, you think nothing could possible ruin this moment. It’s just you and her, and everything that’s beautiful.

“You always protect me, Clar,” you smile.

She smiles, lips grazing yours. This is your Clarisse. The one who smiles just for you, who puts her rough hand softly against your face. This is your Clarisse, the one who would do anything for you, the one who wants to carry you around, the one who wants to protect you and hold you and never let anyone fuck with her baby.

The door slams open, someone is laughing boisterously, another person is groaning in pain, and a familiar voice is shouting your names.

“Clarisse! Y/N! Clarisse, Clarisse! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Danny shouts, dragging out the last syllable of your name. He jumps onto the bed by your feet, even when Clarisse frowns, looking at you like a puppy dog who’s just brought a dead bird to your doorstep.

And as you look at the scene behind you, Nelson being laid on another bed, Carrie being helped into the corner- laughing hysterically, knuckles split open.

Nelson’s face is practically unrecognizable.

You suppose Danny really did bring something unsavory like a dead bird, dropping it right at your feet.

“So, we all woke up right?”

Your eyes whip to Danny, shocked as he know launches into a story about Carrie waking up to Nelson saying he hadn’t been called to the Big House yet, maybe he would get away from it- but swiftly received punishment in the form of Carrie’s fists. With Clarisse in your bed, no one had the guts to stop them, and they fought for what must have been 10 minutes- Nelson very obviously losing.

“And, now we’re here,” Danny sighs, breathing out after his long and embellished rant. “But you’re awake, Y/N!”

He looks at your skeptically- specifically, at your arm.

“Can I hug you?”

“Oh,” you smile, your heart twisting with such a fondness for this wonderful little kid. “Of course you can, Danny,” you smile, opening your arms wide.

“Yes, just be careful,” Clarisse cautions, her arm around your waist. “Watch the arm, huh?”

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse,” you mumble, breath messing his hair.

“He’s 11.”

“Baby,” you reinforce, squeezing him tighter.

“Y/N… you’re crushing me,” he groans.

“Oops,” you say, letting him go. “You’re just too cute,” you coo.

Clarisse scoffs from next to you. You smile, kissing her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Scary, dangerous. Not cute, though.”

She hums. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Carrie walks over, sporting her split knuckles, also opting to let them heal naturally like Clarisse. She shows them off with a wide smile, even as Nelson screams in the background when they reset his nose.

Matty rubs his temples.

You smile, looking around at your very dysfunctional, very awkward, but loving family-adjacent.

“Hey, did we end up winning the game?” you ask.

Clarisse snorts. “Oh, nah. Without us, they were lost. Who cares, though?”

“Yeah, I liked beating Nelson up much more than I would have liked winning,” Carrie smiles.

“Next time,” Danny starts, “Can I lead again?”

Clarisse squints at him. “…Maybe.”

You wink at him, nodding subtly.

“Okay!” he smiles.

Clarisse kisses your forehead.

“I love you, pretty baby,” she mumbles.

You smile. “I love you too, scary baby.”

—-

clarisse when she sees y/n get hurt: oh so the only natural response to to THROW A FUCKING SPEAR AT SOMEONE

appreciation for the fact she threw it from like really far away and just tore through his armor likkkkeeee

nelson and nicky sitting in the infirmary together hugging each other terrified clarisse and carrie are going to come back for more

nicky does not sleep at night anymore SHE SAID SHE WASNT DONE

—-

shout out to my baby danny he carried this fic fr

shoutout to y/n for getting WRECKED so we could have this beautiful moment w clarisse

shoutout to matty for being his beautiful self

shoutout to carrie for being her violent self

and finally shoutout to clarisse for being overprotective and insane

—-

clarisse after she actually convinced y/n to let her carry her around everywhere: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

bitch is so happy…

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

[jarofstyles]

Blurb idea: dark Harry undressing y/n for the first time and she’s really shy and he’s like so in awe of her and like he thinks her underwear is so cute with bows😭 extra-daddy kink

Omg wait this is good…. I may continue it as a one shot if people like it

Check out our Patreon

Warning- knife play, daddy kink, dark h and he’s slightly crazy but oh well

——

“Look at that…” he crooned, tapping the blunt side of the knife over the smooth cotton. “Aren’t these just precious, little dove?”

He could see her chest rising and falling in what he assumed was both anticipation and slight fear. She’d gasped so pretty when he pulled the knife out to cut off the pathetic excuse of a skirt she she’d worn out tonight, but the blade was increasingly close to her skin. He wouldn’t cut her, no, but he could tell from their previous encounters that his little bird liked to be scared. Just a little bit.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know you’d see them.” She stuttered, laid out in his bed. In fact, she’d thought he was ignoring her this whole week. “You didn’t text me back and I wasn’t… I thought you got tired of talking to me.”

“Oh, darling…” he clicked his tongue, face softening slightly. “Never. I was just busy with my… errands.” He smirked at the connotation. Y/N had met him because she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to, and instead of threatening her and making her run off with fear stricken into her heart? He’d decided to comfort her, take her for some hot cocoa and dropped her off at home. It had been entirely her want to kiss, which he’d done so greedily before leaving her.

Since then he hadn’t been able to leave her alone.

“Oh.” She whispered, eyes going back down to the cool metal against her skin. “I thought maybe I wasn’t so good last time.”

Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes as he thumbed over the gusset of her panties. The wet patch was growing, making him feel all the more smug as her breathing hitched. “You think having my load all over that pretty face was me being displeased?” He shook his head at how ridiculous his bird was. “No. I took some pretty pictures and made myself cum a few times when I was away. But the last three days I held off so I’d have some for you. I think you liked it a lot last time, didn’t you?” He mumbled, watching her eyes widen. His girl was shy, but it was good he knew exactly how to read her.

“You did. Tell Daddy y’liked it.” He encouraged her with a kiss to her tummy, eyes meeting hers. “Go one. We both know you know how to use that pretty mouth.”

“I-I liked it, Daddy.” She breathed, hips bucking slightly into his thumb. “I liked it so much.”

A smile split his face as he watched her eyes round out. “That’s my girl. You do so well, y’know that? Even after I’ve corrupted you a bit and made you do all sorts of nasty things for me, you’re the sweetest little thing I’ve ever met. That’s why I keep you.” Another kiss was placed to her sternum as he took the knife from her panties and split her shirt, ignoring the squeak of protest as the tattered fabric was opened to expose a match bra. A light pink with a matching bow in the middle of her tits, just like the taunting one on the waistband of her panties.

“Christ, you’re perfect.” He rubbed his face against her breasts, moving up with sloppy kisses all over her chest. “I love these things. So sweet. Almost could fool me into thinking you’ve got no idea on what to do with a cock, but I’ve taught you so well.” The knife was tossed to the side as his fingers tugged the cup of the bra down, lazily sucking one of her nipples into his mouth for a few seconds. Her hands gripped at his hair in surprise, the choked whimper making his cock twitch. “Was gonna cut these off, cause y’know Daddy hates shit getting in the way of my view but… god, I think M’gonna leave them on. Stain them with my cum. What do you think about that, baby? Gonna let me?”

[stealingyourbones]

Prompt Idea: Danny has plot armor.

To start off, Danny’s whole family knows he’s Phantom, and they had to run from Amity because of the GIW. They wind up in Gotham because that’s the one place that The Government doesn’t really mess with.

The reason behind Danny’s plot armor is that in this world, Danny became incredibly overprotective of his friends and family in order to make sure he doesn’t wind up as Dan, ironically making the chance of that happening much greater than before.

In order to prevent this, Clockwork gives Danny and his family a blessing. It works like this.

Imagine you rolled a dice. To Clockwork, there are now 6+ possible alternate timelines that can ensue. Clockwork’s blessing allows those possible timelines to be restricted to only one or two, all of them good for the Fenton family.

In effect, it was like plot armor. Scarecrow attacks a library with Jazz inside? Oh, looks like her parents need her to pick up Danny early, or she drank too much water and needs to go to the bathroom, which just so happens to have a window just in reach that she can escape from.

Maddy needs to get a job? Well, Jazz’s university needs a new chemistry professor (last one was kidnapped by a rogue) and they’re in a bit of a rush so they’ll skip looking for a teaching certificate. No one cares anyways, it’s Gotham.

Jack needs something to do? Well, besides hunting ghosts, he’d always wanted to open a food truck! With Jazzy making sure nothings contaminated and some (slightly modified) recipes from the Ghost Zone, he can finally chase his dream in a big city with his Phantom Food Vehicle! He wonders what some of those shady men came up to him for, or that odd stout fella in the tux.

(The Phantom Food Truck has become a recent cryptid in Gotham. Except it’s not a cryptid, because everyone’s seen the video of the truck hurtling down the street like it’s chasing down the devil, cop cars and vigilantes alike on its tail. And yet, no one could find it. Not even the Bats. That’s about when everyone gave up. When they learned that you don’t find it, the Phantom Food Truck finds you.)

As for Danny? He’s entirely unaware of this, to focused on keeping his head down. It works, for a while. Before fate came knocking in the form of a wicked smile, as if there solely to ruin his day.

The Joker wasn’t having a good day either. He started out having a jolly old time, joker toxin gassing a small high school, making sure to leave macabre presents for his dear Batsy, and then what happens? This random kid just starts running around, helping students, saving teachers, what’s he gonna do next huh? Save a cat from a tree?

What’s worse, his useless henchmen couldn’t even land a hit on the kid! He swears, Bill doesn’t even seem to be trying.

Whatever, they managed to corner the brat, looked like he was standing in front of some other children. So Joker lines the shot, and he fires.

The gun jams.

Alrighty, he takes one from a random mook, and he shoots again.

The gun jams.

No one’s moving at this point. Where there was once dread and tension in the air, there’s just confusion. So Joker points the gun at a goon, pulls the trigger, the shot goes off.

He turns back to the Robin-ish looking twink, and he pulls the trigger.

The gun jams.

And as he starts walking towards the kid to just kill it himself, he wakes up in the Arkham hospital wing with his last memory of the encounter being him slipping on the glowing green contents of some weird looking thermos that the kid had thrown earlier in the fight. What the FUCK was that.

Clockwork doesn’t even care how pissed the Observers are any more, this is hilarious.

it's to the point of ridiculousness that the Bats have an entire file on Danny and they think he's a meta with a luck ability and nothing else.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Y'all wanna see Miguel be the dominant lover.

I wanna see Miguel being that dude's that's slightly afraid of his wife.

He's teasing her jokingly and she starts yelling at him in Spanish. And he's like 'It was a JOKE- dios mío A JOKE' meanwhile this 4'11 woman is yelling and waving her finger in his face (lovingly of course)

Jess asks if he's coming to eat lunch, and he tells her 'no', that he has work to do.

Cue his wife storming into his office, yelling his name, and shoving a plate of arroz con pollo at him and demanding they eat together. And of course he wouldn't dream of telling her no.

So he sits there while she's like 'Make sure you finish. You always eat dinner late. You need to finish so you won't be hungry. I don't know how you always want to train and workout but you don't want to stop and EAT. You hear me?? Are you listening-'

And he's just happily listening to her nagging while he eats and fights back a smile.

-- Imma give him a wife who looks makes him look relatively calm and sarcastic meanwhile she's a busy-body constantly checking on him and everything in the Society so it doesn't fall apart.

-- Miguel being afraid to even COUGH around her cause god help him, if she thinks he's sick she'll forcefully BABY him to death.

Like tucking him into bed ridiculously tight with a rag on his head and soup on the stove and if he even thinks about getting up he gets scolded for 'stressing out his body'

-- A wife that when Miguel brings up the idea of having kids she's like 'Of course! I want six... What's wrong, why do you look like you've seen a ghost? It's six not enough for you?'

Meanwhile Miguel is trying not to faint at the idea of SIX WHOLE KIDS to look after. (The end up with eight in the end)

-- And she has weekly brunches with MJ where they talk about how much of a mess their loving husbands are

-- When they train together she takes it SO serious. She's the worlds toughest trainer ever. Yelling at him in Spanish 'Is that all you got! Christ, I know you can do more than that!! We're running 6 miles together on the treadmill next. DRINK SOME WATER!!!'

And then after she's like 'You did great, babe 😊 My strong man, love you 🧡🧡🧡.'

Meanwhile he's panting for dear life

Like DO YOU SEE THE DYNAMIC I'M GOING FOR not the 'i hate my wife' kinda vibe, the 'my wife is gonna fucking kill me if I stay up until three again' kinda vibe.

I'm gonna give him the most firey fierce wife ever. That's him and Inca-Spider Moche. When they argue she stands on his desk cause she's not gonna having him looking down at her. She's like 'You think you wouldn't eat lunch cause the breakfast I cooked was too big? Say that to my face!!' *climbs up on the nearest chair*

A calm sarcastic giant and his 4'11 wife that will rain hellfire if he works late cause he needs his sleep and she'll be DAMNED if he doesn't get it

[awrkive]

[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.

you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)

WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)

WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)

NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️

‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE

You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.

Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.

You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.

It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.

When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.

That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.

Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?

You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!

Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.

Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.

"God."

As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.

"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.

Oh my god. You wanted to cry.

You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."

Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.

Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.

You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.

Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.

He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.

Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.

"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"

You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."

He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.

"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.

"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.

Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.

Ugh.

"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.

But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.

You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.

"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.

"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.

You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.

But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.

"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.

Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."

"Hm?"

"Can I suck your dick?"

"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.

"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.

So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.

"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.

"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.

"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.

You shrug. "Yeah, well."

You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.

"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.

"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.

"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.

"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.

"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."

"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.

"So…?"

You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.

"Okay, sure." You shrug.

"Fuck, you're the best."

This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.

You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.

"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.

Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."

You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.

"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.

"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."

You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.

Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.

He stops kissing you.

"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."

Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.

"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.

You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."

"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.

"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."

You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.

But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."

You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.

Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.

Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.

It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.

Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.

"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."

You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.

When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.

As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.

What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.

"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.

"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."

He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.

The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.

"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly

"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."

And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.

"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.

"Good girl."

And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.

"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.

"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.

Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.

Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?

"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."

You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.

"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.

And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.

So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.

When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.

"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.

He only let out a non-committal hum.

"Jungkook."

"Yes, baby?"

"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.

"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.

"Thanks, I guess."

Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.

"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."

You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.

Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."

"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."

Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."

"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.

"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."

You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?

"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"

Oh god, your essay. Right.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.

Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."

That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.

"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."

You think you'll start doing it more, too.

all rights reserved © AWRKIVE , 2023

[wolverigrl]

Trying to have a romantic night at home with Hugh but the kids and then Ryan who rings him keep runing the mood

😉

Romance and Unicorn Plushies

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: Thank you for this idea, and I hope y'all like it! xx

Warnings: fluff

Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

Tonight was supposed to be our night. Hugh had finally finished his work, the kids were tucked in, and we were going to have that long-overdue, romantic evening we'd been craving for weeks.

I could already picture it - just the two of us, no interruptions, candlelight, soft music, and then maybe... well, more.

He was in the kitchen finishing up Dinner, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. The way he moved, so effortlessly casual, like he wasn't even aware of how ridiculously attractive he was.

His forearms flexed as he stirred the sauce, and I found my mind drifting to much less innocent thoughts.

"Careful." Hugh teased without even turning around, his voice a low mumble.

"If you keep looking at me ike that, dinner's going to end up burned."

I leaned back against the counter, niting my lip as I gave him a slow once-over.

"Maybe I like my food with a bit of heat."

He turned then, giving me thas boyish grin that always made my heart race.

"Is that so?" He walked over, eyes never leaving mine as he placed his hands on either side of me, caging me in against the counter.

"I can think of a few ways to turn up the heat."

His breath was warm against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine as he leaned in, just close enough for his lips to brush against my ear. The nearness of him, the smell of him, was making it hard to focus on anything other than how padly I wanted him to close the small gap between us.

"Like what?" I asked, my voice teasing as I tilted my head, giving him more access.

"Mmm.." he murmured, his lips grazing my skin in the softest, most frustrating way.

"I could show you.. but it's much more fun if I make you beg for it."

I let out a soft laugh, running a hand up his arm, feeling the muscles flex beneath my touch.

"Hugh Michael Jackman.. do you really think I'm going to beg?"

He smirked, that slow, dangerous smile that set my pulse racing.

"Oh, love, I know you will."

Before I could come up with a witty response, his lips captured mine, slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to drive me insane. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed flush against each other. The heat between us was immediate, electric, and I was suddenly not hungry for anything other than him.

He pulled back just slightly, his lips still hovering over mine, teasing me with every breath.

"Pasta's almost ready.."

I groaned, tugging him back toward me.

"I don't care about pasta!"

His laughter rumbled through his chest as he kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands slipping beneath my shirt to trace lazy patterns on my skin. I could feel every inch of him, the tension building between us like a coiled spring ready to snap.

"Are you sure?" he murmured against my lips. "I've been slaving over a hot stove for you."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me as I pulled him even closer, our bodies flush.

"If you think pasta's more important than this right now, I'm gonna start questioning your priorities!"

"Fair point." he whispered with a grin and his hands wandering lower.

"But you haven't even tried it yet."

His lips trailed down my neck, and tilted my head back, completely giving in to the sensations he was pulling out of me. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to get me to the point where I couldn't think about anything but him. And he was enjoying every second of it.

Just as his hands slipped a little lower, the sound of giggling echoed from upstairs.

We both froze.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Hugh groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder.

"They swore they were going to sleep." I said, exasperated.

But the laughter continued, and there was no use pretending they'd settle down on their own.

Hugh reluctantly let go of me and straightening up.

"I'Il go check on them."

"I'll come with you." I said with a sigh, and we both headed upstairs.

Sure enough, Ava and Oscar were wide awake, tangled up in sheets and pillows, whispering about something and clearly not planning to sleep anytime soon.

"Guys, come on.." Hugh said, rubbing is forehead.

"You promised you'd be asleep by now."

"Sorry, Dad.." Ava said, looking guilty but still too amused to be fully remorseful.

Oscar just grinned, as if this was all part of his master plan.

"We couldn't sleep."

I couldn't help but smile despite myself.

They were adorable, but right now, I wanted nothing more than to be back downstairs with Hugh, picking up where we'd left off.

"Alright.." Hugh sighed, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"But seriously, you need to go to bed. It's late."

"Can we have one more story? Pleeeease!" Ava asked, pulling out the big, puppy-dog eyes and Hugh, of course, melted immediately.

"One more." he agreed smiling. "But that's it! Then you sleep!"

I gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. He just shrugged sheepishly.

He managed to get them settled after one more short story, and by he time we made it back downstairs, I was ready to pick up exactly where we'd left off. Hugh, as if reading my mind, grabbed my hand, pulling me back into his arm: with that same fiery look in his eyes.

"Where were we?" he asked, his voice a low, seductive murmur. His iands slipped down my back, and I shivered under his touch.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

"I think you were about to make me forget my own name."

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against my neck.

"You make it very hard to keep track of time."

His lips brushed mine, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent. His hands slid under my shirt, fingertips grazing the skin of my waist, sending shivers through me. I pressed against him, feeling the solid warmth of his body, every muscle taut with restrained desire.

"Bedroom?" I breathed between kisses.

"Good idea." he muttered, lifting me slightly as we stumbled toward the stairs again without our lips parting.

Just as we reached the foot of the stairs, the doorbell rang.

We both stopped, frozen in place.

Hugh groaned loudly, resting his forehead against mine.

"This is some sort of cosmic joke!"

I couldn't help but laugh, even though I was equally annoyed.

"You should probably get that."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, but headed to the door. I leaned against the banister, trying to catch my breath and calm the frustration that was building as well.

We were so close.

Hugh opened the door, and there, standing in the doorway, was none other than Ryan.

"Ryan?" Hugh asked, exasperation clear in his voice. "It's almost ten o'clock at night!"

"Hey, mate!" Ryan grinned, strolling into the house like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I just remembered my daughter left her unicorn plushy at your place."

Hugh blinked, still confused. "And you remembered that now?"

Ryan nodded solemnly.

"Yeah, she can't sleep without it, so I couldn't wait till morning."

Suddenly he leaned in, whispering just loud enough for us to hear.

"She has superhuman ears for the sound of her teddy bear being touched by anyone but her!"

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me, and when Hugh glanced back at me with amusement, I shrugged.

"Unicorn plushies are serious business!"

"Yeah, see! She gets it!" Ryan said, smiling brightly. "You're the real MVP here!"

Hugh stepped aside, letting Ryan in with a sigh. "It should be somewhere in the living room. Try to be quiet. The kids just went to sleep."

As Ryan tiptoed through the house with exaggerated care, I couldn't stop giggling.

Hugh's frustration was palpable, but there was something so absurd about the situation, it was impossible to stay mad. Ryan, of course, found the plushy within minutes, triumphantly holding it up as though he had found some priceless artifact.

"I found it!" he whispered, glancing around dramatically, as if afraid the sound of his voice alone might wake the kids.

"Great. Now, out." Hugh said, trying to hide a grin, but failing miserably. He leaned against the doorframe crossing his arms in a way that would've looked intimidating to anyone who wasn't Ryan Reynolds.

"Leaving, leaving!" Ryan said, mock-saluting. "Sorry for the intrusion. Looks like you two were busy."

Hugh groaned playfully as Ryan winked at me before strolling out the door, whistling to himself like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Hugh closed the door behind him and turned to me, his face a mix of exhaustion and amusement.

"Why do I put up with him?"

"Because he's your best friend!" I teased, still laughing.

Hugh sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking back over to me, pulling me back into his arms.

"Now, if there are no more interruptions.

Where were we?" I asked, letting my hands wander across his chest feeling the tension still simmering between us.

"I think I was about to make you beg." he murmured, his voice low and teasing, lips brushing against mine.

"And what makes you think I'm going to beg?" I challenged, wrapping my arms around his neck.

His smile widened, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Oh, love, I'll have you begging before the night's over."

---------------------------------------------------

Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

[slutforgarlogan]

"You can check if you like" | Peter Maximoff x F! Reader

Summary: Peter comes back from a mission with a wound and you patch him up. He takes the opportunity to tease you.

Warnings: nsfw content, fingering, teasing, Peter being a cocky asshole

"Oh my god what happened to you?" you jump up from your seat when the team gets back from their mission, noticing the bleeding coming from your boyfriends head. You'd be lying if you said he didn't look hot all bloodied up, but you were too concerned with his wellbeing to indulge in the urge to make out with him.

Peter gives you his usual cocky smile, ignoring your concern "I'm fine babe, its just a scratch." You aren't convinced, but you know he wont go back on the statement, ever the cocky bitch despite his constant dramatics. You raise an eyebrow at him to indicate you dont believe him, "Please just let me look at it anyway"

Peter rolls his eyes and groans, smiling at you playfully while he does so - but he doesn't protest and takes you to one of the bathrooms with a fwip.

Though he does that all the time, you never expect it - and the speed always makes you feel ill and disoriented. You take a second to ground yourself, before getting the first aid things out of the bathroom cabinet to sort him out, and speaking to him as you rifle through it. "You're okay everywhere else yeah, nothing got through your suit?"

"You can check if you like" His tone is suggestive and he wiggles his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes at his answer - taking that as a no. He watches you for a second, and then sits down on the closed toilet lid before you have the chance to tell him to.

You move to stand in front of him, subconsciously situating yourself between his legs where he was practically manspread, and you push his goggles onto the top of his head, trying to make sure his hair stays tucked under them and out the way. The cut looks deep, and you wince a little thinking about it. You lock eyes with him as you pick up a little cotton pad and alcohol to clean the wound - you've done this a fair few times and he knows the drill, but you warn him regardless. "It's gonna sting a second Quickie"

You press the alochol soaked cotton pad on the wound, making sure to be gentle, and Peter grips onto the nearest thing when you do so, which happens to be your thigh. The feel of his hand on you shoots to your core immediately, and your breath hitches for half a second before you catch yourself and ignore it. You keep cleaning the wound, eventually moving on to clean the dried blood around it, and Peters leg is bouncing as he starts to get bored and restless.

You lock eyes with him and lean back a second. "Peter, sit still, find something in here to distract yourself im nearly done i promise" There's a certain look in his eye when he looks at you, and you can see an idea forming in his head, and you worry slightly what ridiculous idea you've accidentally caused him to have, but you get back to what you're doing anyway.

As you grab a roll of bandaid and scissors to cut it down to fit the wound, you feel a hand at the top of your thigh, fingers hooking into your panties to get them down a little - you try to ignore it and focus on finishing what you're doing, holding the roll up unrolling a little bit to see how much you need.

You hear a little cocky laugh from Peter as his finger prods at your folds and you could have ripped his suit off him there and then. But you try not to react, steadying your breathing before you look at him. "Whats funny"

He looks up at you, a shit eating grin on his face. "You're so wet and i haven't even touched you"

A pink shade dusks over your cheeks as you roll your eyes, in your head you know exactly what made you wet, but you know he'll poke fun at you for it so you don't tell him. "Shut up"

You cut a bit of a bandaid off the roll, big enough to fit the wound, and as you do so, he slides a finger into you, thrusting it in and out at a painfully slow pace - but he doesnt take long to slide a second finger in. He is still in his suit, and the gloves of the suit feel weird. The feeling is foreign but good. Your breathing goes a bit shaky as you try to concentrate, putting the roll down and picking up the bit you cut off, flipping it around to peel the back off, struggling a little fiddling with it.

Peter speeds up his fingers, curling them inside you to hit the spot that makes you whine a little, earning the same shit eating grin as before as he makes sure to keep hitting that spot. He brings his other hand to circle your clit as you finally get the back off the band aid, and you moan out as he draws figure 8's over the sensitive bud. "Fuckk Peter"

You stick the band-aid over the wound carefully but quickly, placing your hands on his shoulders as soon as you're done, breathing heavily and whimpering a bit. "Peter please"

He speeds up the finger on your clit, practically vibrating it and you moan loudly, legs shaking as you try hold yourself up properly and your walls clench around his fingers a little.

Thats when he stops. You look at him with pleading eyes "What the fuck"

He laughs a little "You've finsihed patching me up"

You look at him dumbfounded and annoyed, you open your mouth to protest but he speaks before you.

"You wanna check under my suit now?"

[pinkanonwrites]

Thinking about the concept of cloth or soft things in general being considered luxury to cybertronians, and just imagining one using their holoform to enter a bedroom for the first time. There a big soft berth that sinks under their weight, an entire pile of warm insulating plush fabric, and even more small soft pads that they put their heads on! Could you imagine their reaction to a carpeted room? They even put soft things on the ground they walk on! It would be like looking at one of ridiculously luxurious mansions that are so loaded up with fancy things that it almost looks like a parody

This conjured up a little idea in me with ROTB Mirage, enjoy!

"Watch your shoulders on the-!"

CRUNCH

"...Door frame." So much for getting your deposit back. Mirage shot you a crooked grin, brushing some of the sheet-rock dust off of his shoulder pauldron.

"Sorry 'bout that, sweetspark. No big deal, you can patch that up no problem!"

When Noah had told you that Mirage was able to change his size you had only partially believed him. After all, according to his own stories, the Mirage that was barely larger than Noah in Peru had also had several significant pieces blasted off of his gargantuan frame. And yet, here he was. Fully repaired, mass-shifted to a mere seven-and-a-half feet tall. And sure, he still had to stoop to avoid taking out your ceiling fan. But here he was, in your meager apartment.

It was an equally unfamiliar locale for Mirage himself, having only caught peeks of your living quarters from the alleyway outside. The shag carpet was plush under his pedes, ridiculously soft to the touch. And sure, he'd owned a few of his own garments back in the Towers, in pre-war time, but it still paled in comparison to your room with its thick curtains, fluffy carpeting, and the dozen or so plush organic creatures littering your bed.

"Do you wanna listen to something? You can sit on the bed, if you want. You're probably too big for my desk chair." You were already rifling through your tapes, gesturing to the bed with your free hand and currently oblivious to Mirage's wide-optic stare. He took a careful seat on the edge and Primus, the entire mattress sunk and molded around his bulky frame. It was heavenly. He took one of your stuffed animals between his servos and squeezed, marveling at the squish.

"Man, I can't believe y'all live like this!" He laughed, draping himself backwards onto your bed with a warning creak. "It's comfy, that's for sure. But I don't think I could sleep on somethin' like this. It might swallow me up mid-recharge. And what's with all these little soft organics?"

"Says the guy who sleeps on the floor of a garage. I'd have aches in muscles I didn't even know existed." You pressed Talking Heads 'Speaking In Tongues' into the player with a familiar click, the beginning lick of Burning Down The House echoing through the tinny speaker as you flopped down next to Mirage. "And you're strangling Hello Kitty. They're cute, and soft, and that's kind of all there is to it? Kids like to play with them, too."

"Huh! Cute. Seems like your style. The whole hab seems like your style, actually. All soft and shit. " He handed you back your slightly-dented Hello Kitty, letting out a lazy ex-vent as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. "Well what should we do now?~ You got me all the way up into your berth, aren't you gonna do somethin' about it?"

You barked out a laugh, turning your head to see Mirage's playfully smarmy grin aimed down at you. "Was that your ploy? Show off your cool alien shape-shifting just so you could get in my bed?"

"That depends. Is it working?~"

"Maybe.~"

[coquettetoji]

i need more bf armin if you can please🥹🥹

i’m such a hoe for this man so like

QUESTIONS WITH BF ARMIN 🎀

warnings: literally just gonna make you hate couples in love, i’m nauseous reading my own writing bc i want this so bad. a little suggestive but doesn’t get into it much

context: y/n, as armin’s lovely girlfriend, asks him a series of questions in her own little interview that she records on her phone.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

it was your average Tuesday night, and you with your ever so spontaneous ideas wanted to sit down with your boyfriend of 2 years— Armin, to put him to the test on a multitude of semi-serious but mostly ridiculous questions.

you take in a deep overdramatic sigh, staring at your boyfriend with a dead-set look in your eyes “so, armin.” you cross your arms in front of you as you sit criss cross apple sauce straddled in his lap, with a small stack of flash cards held in your hands. your phone was stood up by a box of paper tissues off to the side, showing both you and your boyfriend in the phone screen recording.

“yes, baby?” he answers you with a soft dazed smile, his pupils dilated staring at you intently, hands on your waist drawing small circles waiting for you to ask him the oh-so-serious questions, he shouldn’t be scared. after all, they’re just some questions, right?

you stare at him with a glare trying to look intimidating, “question one…” you trail off dramatically.

Armin stares at you with a stifled smile, trying to remain serious just for your sake and to make you happy for this little TikTok trend you want to participate in again. He leans slightly forward to place a small chaste kiss on your cheek.

“that was not part of the question, i told you to be serious.” you huff jokingly but he just smiles brightly up at you.

“i can’t help it, you’re right here in my reach and you’re just so- ugh..” he emphasizes with a fake swoon and a chuckle.

“okay, AGHEM-”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 1:

“what pet names do you call me the most? n’ what’s the favorite name that I call you?” you say sweetly. your eyes bore into his awaiting his answers while clutching onto your flash cards.

his fingers lightly tapped the sides of your legs, occasionally tracing small circles dazedly as he thought about it.

“i call you baby the most. i dunno what else. there’s sweetheart, angel, honey. momm-” he trails before you cut him off and stare at the camera with wide eyes. you clear your throat slightly side eyeing the camera before returning your view to him and his stupidly adorable dazed smile.

“OKAY! and what’s your favorite name that i call you, minnie?” you ask him with a tilt of your head, reaching a hand out to play with the tufts of his blonde hair.

he huffs, softly dropping his head onto your chest while wrapping his arms around you tighter, squeezing gently.

“mmm, i like everything you call me. but i think that one time i was uh like panicky and stressed and you called me baby, my heart kinda j-just like.. skipped. ya know? like what are they called— heart palpitations? in that situation it just made me feel really good.” he tilts his head up at you, his chin propped up, slightly rambling.

in this moment he really just looked like the embodiment of the cutest golden retriever ever.

you smile at him, “you’re just adorable aren’t you?” he reacts to this with a small blush forming on his cheeks shaking his head side to side slightly.

“y/n/n you have to cut off some parts of this video. i ramble too much when it comes to you i just start rapid firing shit out like i’m rapping.”

“it’s for comedic purposes. shush.”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 2:

“if you would rather have me with the personality of your ex, or your ex with my body. who would you choose to date? choose carefully and think about what you say before you say it.” you tease him.

his eyes widen slightly as if you had just asked him the most life threatening question ever (honestly to him it could be).

“w-well..” he buffers. he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought or as if it’s gonna have an answer written out on it.

“i would remain single until you return back to normal.” he nods, seemingly assured that his answer was the right one.

you stare blankly at him, then at the camera, then back to him. “the audience is going to have to decide on that one.” you assert.

at this armin’s eyebrows furrow confusedly and his arms wrap around you tighter. “w-what? baby i don’t have much to work with here for an answer.” he sasses.

“you could’ve just said you would- you could like- well in the sense that.. yeah you’re lowkey right.” you shrug sheepishly.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, “can i ask you a question now?”

“if this is another question like gay son or thot daughter im not answering it.”

he laughs slightly, “no no no. it’s something different.”

you nod for him to continue, “what is it then?”

“uhhh can we turn off the camera for this one?” he looks at the camera quickly before returning his eyes back to you.

your eyebrows raised at his shy question, his gaze adverting from you and staring down at your his shirt that you are wearing.

“whisper it to me.”

pst pst pst whisper whisper whisper

you stare blankly at him after pulling the side of your head away from his face with a rosy pink blush now surfacing on your cheeks.

“s-so you see.. i can not answer that…?” you buffer just as he did earlier.

he giggled softly at your confuzzled expression and he squeezed your leg gently with his hand.

“mm see how you can’t answer that one either, angel?” he grinned smugly tilting his chin up at you slightly.

“oh shut up.”

(news flash: he asked you what position he hits it best in 😸)

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 3:

you grab your phone, quickly clicking the .5 button as the phone camera zooms out in view, now causing armin in the view of the camera to look a bit—stretched?

he stares up at the camera, the angle making his puppy eyes just like that much larger and cuter in the process.

“can we not film me from this angle, baby? i don’t get to look at you properly with the phone in the way.” he huffs slightly.

“no.”

“yes ma’am.”

“anyways, next question and i want you to think about this in depth.” you nudge him

he hums along, “i’m listening.”

“what made you realize you loved me?” you ask him deeply.

this question causes armins mind to suddenly blank over a tad bit just to reminisce about the first moments he met you.

he stares up into the camera as you try and withhold a laugh at how stupidly cute the .5 angle is making him look.

flashback:

it was junior year of high school, and at your lovely age of 17.

the teacher was passing back the recent scores from your latest exams. high school was definitely hard but you always seemed to manage with your high grades, expectations, and your extremely competitive nature.

the only person who seemed to have always come close to you or beat you was Armin Arlert.

*insert sparkle noises here*

yeah, he was a little infuriating when it came to competitive aspects but his pretty face lets him get away with it—but definitely not when it comes to you right?

the teacher came around the corner and placed your paper upside down on the surface of your desk. feeling confident with the results, you flip it over to reveal the high score of 98 percent on the white parchment. with a giddy smile, you turn directly behind you in your chair to come face to face with Armin.

only to see him already staring directly at you with a dimpled smile.

“98. what did you get, arlert?” you boast to him while holding up your paper.

“really? i can’t believe it after your poor performance last time.” he teased still grinning at you.

“i got a 90 last time, that’s not even poor.” you roll your ey at him with your mouth slightly agape. “what did you get if you’re so smart?” you huff.

he hummed, his glasses shifting slightly down the bridge of his nose as he leaned slightly forward closer to you in his seat, “a 94, y/n/n.” however his paper remained flipped over and his forearm rested on top of it.

you glanced down at his desk where his veiny arms lay upon the paper, your tried to squint to see some type of number in red but his arms covered it.

you brushed this off, instead focusing on how you scored higher than him as an even bigger smile now appeared on your face. “hm, better catch up next time, arlert.” you nudge him.

“you already know i will, princess.” he nods as his he leaned his head on his left hand looking into your eyes.

you turn around in your seat and face back towards your desk as the school bell rings to signal the next period of the school day. “i’ll see you tomorrow, might wanna get back to studying a little more.”

you pack up your bags, proudly stuffing the 98% exam in your bag. zipping up your backup, you smile, happily leaving the classroom oblivious to Armin’s lovingly proud gaze, as well as his now-flipped-over exam on his desk that revealed a 100%.

flashback over

armin looked up into your eyes with you still in his lap, disregarding the camera shoved into his face.

“i think the moment i realized i would do anything to make you happy, even lie and make myself look worse, is when i just knew i would do absolutely anything for you.” he gushed.

“like you didn’t even know i lied about half my scores until like a year ago. i just loved seeing you smile because you’re so just— ahh.” he hums as he throws his head back slightly and dramatically with a toothy grin.

you cup his cheeks in your hands as you trail your eyes over all his features. “i’m honored that if anyone was my academic rival, it was you, blondie.”

“oh stop it.” he gushed. “but yeah, i just knew when i just felt that weird feeling in my chest every time i saw you happy.”

your heart felt as if it was going to explode, sure you’ve been with armin for a solid 2 years. but this has never really ever been brought up.

“and i also realized when i had the urge to throw jean against a wall when he was flirting with you.”

“okay well atleast chivalry isn’t dead.” you sigh, armin laughs before reaching up slightly to place a gentle peck on your lips.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

let’s just say the peck led to other things because your lips now were noticeably swollen and your hair was messy from armin’s hands running through it.

you pick up your phone camera that was absentmindedly discarded when the two of your guys’ small peck definitely did NOT escalate into a make-out session **blame armin.

“so g-guys.” you take a second to collect your breath. “that’s some questions that my boyfriend answered. this definitely will get me banned if i post all the clips but they will be edited so..” you glance at armin who drags his eyes from up and down your body.

“yeah. i gotta go.” you quickly blurt before clicking the end record button then immediately drop your phone back onto the couch, crawling back into armin’s lap and continuing where you left off.

“love you, love you, love you.” armin mumbles against your lips, clutching his arms tighter around your middle.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

notes —

hi guys!! lets just pretend it hasn’t been 2 months since i last posted. i’m reading requests and im gonna try and put out as much as i can before spring break ends. thank you for all the love and support <3

also armin as a hot nerd is just everything i’ll ever need.

[dodger-chan]

Based off this post by @cheer-nympho

I thought it would be a silly drabble, but I made the mistake of sleeping on it and, well, here have some very nearly canon compliant demon Steve

------------

Eddie woke up to pain.

“What happened?” he asked, not opening his eyes. If no one answered, he could go back to sleep.

“Steve’s a demon.” It was Henderson’s voice. Fuck, it was good to hear the kid’s voice. If Dustin was here, talking to him, it meant the kid was okay. It meant they’d made it.

“No shit,” Eddie answered, and then slipped back into unconsciousness.

It had been a joke, the summoning spell. Eddie had been bored, maybe a little high, and hadn’t believed any of that bullshit, anyway. Not demons, or satan. He hadn’t even been particularly confident in god.

“Oh, it’s real. All of it,” Harrington had confirmed, sitting cross legged in the chalk circle on Eddie’s bedroom floor. Only the red flames where his eyes should be differentiated him from the archetypal teenage jock. Well, the flames and the fact that he was in Eddie’s room to begin with. Eddie’s room was generally reserved for fellow freaks and nerds. “Time’s ticking on this summoning, Munson. Do you want to deal or not?”

The next time Eddie surfaced the pain was less intense. He was able to peel open his eyes. Wayne was there.

“What happened?” Eddie asked again. Wayne smiled, and squeezed Eddie’s hand.

“Think you’re gonna remember it this time?” he asked instead of answering.

“No idea. Tell me anyway?”

“You said that last time, too.” Wayne chuckled.

What Wayne told him didn’t match what Eddie did remember; obviously the mysterious government suits had provided a cover story. A shitty, ridiculous cover story that was only slightly more plausible than the truth. Still, one that cleared his name, so Eddie probably should be grateful. And, cover story or not it was good to know Henderson was fine aside from a mildly twisted ankle. Sinclair and Lady Applejack had gotten a few bruises. Red had a way too many broken bones for anyone’s liking. Something had happened to Robin and Wheeler the Elder, though neither girl would say what. Harrington…

Harrington had fucking vanished.

“What’ll it cost me?” Eddie’d asked. He wasn’t normally a cautious guy, but he’d read enough stories about deals with the devil to know they were tricky.

“Depends on what you ask. I mostly deal in small favors. You know, a girl who turned you down gets her period early and bleeds through her pants in class. A fire alarm goes off just when you were about to take a pop quiz. And I take something of similar value in return.” Harrington had frowned at him then. “Shit like making sure I end up team captain, or always get the good drinks at parties. It’ll be a little harder to get something useful from you.”

“Running the DnD club doesn’t count as recruiting souls?”

Harrington’s laugh could only be described as a cackle.

“What makes you think I care about recruiting souls?” he’d asked. “But no, it doesn’t. If I wanted souls, I’d do better with basketball. One soul per college scout.”

“What if I want something big?”

“What happened to Harrington?” Eddie asked Dustin the next time the kid visited him.

“I don’t know.” The others all said that, too. Swore up and down they hadn’t seen him since they’d split the party to fight Venca on multiple fronts. Henderson was the only one Eddie didn’t believe.

“Tell me what you do know.” It was a demand more than a request, and Eddie felt guilty making it. Dustin had to be missing his surrogate brother.

“After the gates joined, Nancy went through at the Creel House, but Steve and Robin came back for us. You were…um…I asked Steve to save you. He said he would. Then he went all demon-y, and asked Robin if she wanted anything while he was at it. She asked him to get Vecna. He must have. Because we’re all alive, and when El got here she said that One had been killed.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know! Demon stuff, probably,” Dustin snapped. “Steve carried you and me out of the gate, he put us in a car and told Robin not to worry about being a bad driver, just to head towards Hawkins Memorial and we’d get there safely. I didn’t see him after that.”

A deal with Dustin to save Eddie. And a deal with Robin to save them all.

“You and Nancy Wheeler, trying to shoot for the moon.” Harrington had shaken his head almost sadly. “She couldn’t meet my price. Tried her hardest for nearly a year. But even the hope of bringing Barb back wasn’t enough.”

“I don’t want anything as big as a resurrection.” Eddie had been thinking more along the lines of getting the house back. Or freeing Wayne from his father’s debts.

“Once we’re talking about anything of real significance, the exact size doesn’t matter. You see,” Steve had leaned to the edge of the summoning circle, like he was inviting Eddie into a confidence. “I’m not exactly supposed to be here. If I do anything too obvious, something that couldn’t happen without demonic intervention, I get dragged back to hell. So the price is the same regardless.”

“And that is?” Eddie had been through a lot more in his life than prissy Nancy Wheeler. He could stomach what she couldn’t.

“Love me.”

Robin didn’t visit Eddie in the hospital. She didn’t visit him at his uncle’s new trailer when he got out. Eddie had to track her down at work, pretending to need help finding a horror movie to watch on the VCR he didn’t own.

“I need to know what the terms of the deal were,” he whispered, leaning close as Robin tried to push him back with a copy of The Exorcist. The power of VHS compels you. “The one Dustin made with Steve, and the one you did. What was the price?”

Robin relented.

“Steve told Dustin the price of saving you was losing him as an older brother.” Damn. That was harsh.

“And Dustin agreed to that?” The kid looked up to him, sure, but Harrington had been his hero.

“Dustin thinks he’s smarter than he is. And he didn’t know about the whole-” Robin made devil horns with her left hand “-thing. He probably figured Steve was just being a jealous bitch, and he’d talk him around once you were stable.”

That made more sense. But, “Henderson never tried to make a bargain before? Even by accident?”

“You have to ask to make a bargain,” Robin pointed out. Which, fair enough. Dustin did tend to give orders where other people would ask politely. Harrington might never have had an opportunity to offer Dustin a deal. “I don’t think it was really a deal. Steve was just telling Dustin the truth; that once he knew he wouldn’t be able to see Steve the same way.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he bought that. Steve wouldn’t have saved Eddie for his own sake. It was a nice thought, though, that Harrington was capable of caring about Dustin enough to do real magic for free.

“What about your deal?”

“Paid in advance.” She scowled at him; if Eddie hadn’t already known the price, he’d have been afraid to ask. “How did you know about-?”

She made the devil horns again.

“I, uh, accidentally summoned him once.”

Robin lit up.

“You know how to summon him?” she asked, bouncing on her toes. Eddie nodded. “I know his name. His real name. After Starcourt, the Russians, when I - I can bind him. Eddie, we can bring him back.”

“Your price is sex and you’re trying to tell me Wheeler didn’t pay?” Gossip put Wheeler and Harrington in bed together a full year prior. Even if word of mouth had run a little ahead of reality, “I call bullsh-”

“My price isn’t sex,” Harrington had interrupted. “Sex is cheap. There for the taking whether I want it or not. Fun but worthless. My price is love. Romantic. Platonic. Familial. Doesn’t matter. But it has to be love. Do you know how valuable that is?”

Eddie hadn’t.

“It’s almost time for me to leave, Munson. Is it going to be a small favor? Or do you want to try to earn something big?”

The summoning went a lot easier with Robin’s help. Or maybe it was being sober when he set it up. Either way, the candles flickered and inside the once empty circle stood Steve Harrington. A little less human looking: tattered wings, blood stained claws, and just barely noticeable fangs were added to the flaming eyes. But he was still recognizable to Eddie. And to Robin, who threw herself across the lines of protection they’d carefully drawn less than an hour ago - smearing them into uselessness - for a hug.

“I missed you, too, Rob.” The voice was the same.

“Oh, right, quick, put this on.” She handed him a ring. One of Eddie’s - she hadn’t wanted to wait until they could find something a little more fitting of Steve’s image. “I bound you to the ring. I figured it’s portable, so you can take it with you if you want to leave Hawkins. You can wear it on your hand, or on a chain if you don’t want it visible. Just don’t lose it. If someone else takes it, they’ll be able to drag you around places. But I thought that was less of a risk than binding you to something you couldn’t move-”

“Breathe, Rob,” Steve reassured her, hugging her tightly. “It’s fine. Better than fine. I didn’t think…I never expected to see you again. Either of you.”

“Well, that was real dumb of you, Harrington.” Eddie grinned at the demon. The boy. His savior and possible friend.

It wasn’t possible to look intimidating with Robin Buckley clinging to him, but Steve gave it a good shot.

“You looking for another dirty magazine, Munson?”

“Uh, I guess I could use a new skin mag? The one I’ve got is starting to fall apart.”

“Check your mail tomorrow. One’s going to get misdelivered. You owe me one.” Harrington had smiled, smooth and perfect. He’d disappeared when Eddie’d blinked.

The next afternoon, Eddie’d found the newest issue of Blueboy, meant for delivery in Chicago. Pretty impressive; Eddie hadn’t even told Steve he’d needed gay porn. A week and a half later there was a note in his locker, telling him to pull the fire alarm at the beginning of third period.

And that was the end of it.

“Not this time.” That had been the end of it, until Eddie’s freshmen sheep turned out to be demon worshipers. Until Chrissy’d been murdered, and Steve had jumped in to help without asking anything of Eddie in return. “That used to be my ring.”

“I figured.” Harrington glanced down at the snake now wrapped around his middle finger. “I’m not giving it back.”

“Guess you’ll owe me one.”

“Guess I will.” Steve stepped out of the circle, out of Robin’s arms. “Are you doing Friday night? Come to mine. I’ll make you dinner.”

“You asking me on a date, Harrington?” Eddie was pretty sure that’s what Steve was doing. “It’s going to take more than one date to pay me back for that ring.”

Crazy how fun it was to tease a demon.

“I sure hope so.”

[gothcsz]

part seven of the neighbors series. oh jeez, we are back at it again with another heart wrenching part to this building series. don't ask me where in the timeline this lands because i don't even know—all i do know is that this one hurt me a little more than the others 🖤 as always, thank you to the beautiful anon who sent in this prompt. i love love love creating this with you all 🖤

javier peña x f!reader. ~2k word count. again, nothing too extreme to tag!

“Guess who won dos entradas al cine?” (two tickets to the movie theatre) you sing-song as you approach Javier, a pair of ticket vouchers held triumphantly in your hand and a wide grin lighting up your face. 

Javier looks up from where he’s seated on the edge of the courtyard fountain, the familiar ember of a cigarette glowing between his lips. He narrows his eyes behind his tinted aviators, giving you that signature blend of teasing skepticism. “Who’d you have to flash to get those?” 

You roll your eyes and drop onto the fountain beside him, the cool stone beneath you a welcome reprieve from the heat of the day. “I am offended that you think I’d flash someone for movie tickets.” You cross your legs as you say it, the move shifting the hem of your work dress just high enough to reveal the soft curve of your thighs beneath sheer stockings.

Javier’s gaze dips immediately, a slow drag of his eyes over your legs before his tongue sweeps across his lower lip.

He knows he should stop. Should keep his admiration of you in check. But he can’t. You’re too pretty to not gawk over.

You’re oblivious, like you always are, as you hold the tickets up again, completely lost in your own excitement. “We had this silly competition in the office, and these bad boys were up for grabs.” Your voice is bright and animated, and it’s all he can do not to focus entirely on how alive you look when you’re happy.  

A plume of smoke curls into the air as he exhales, buying himself time. “So, what movie are you gonna go see?” 

You falter for a moment, your confidence dimming ever so slightly as you hesitate. Your teeth catch your lower lip in a nervous habit he’s seen a dozen times and never fails to find endearing, and you glance at him from under your lashes.

That look alone could kill him.

“I’m not sure… actually,” you admit, your voice softening as you toy with the edge of the tickets. The question sits on the tip of your tongue, uncertain.

Is it a good idea to ask him? It’s been weeks since the two of you had a moment to really do anything outside of these stolen midday chats or rushed exchanges in the hallways.

You miss the ease that used to exist between you, but what if he doesn’t feel the same? 

After Javier’s little episode in your apartment during your date, things seem to have settled into a steady, almost predictable rhythm. You’d thought about asking Mateo to join you for this outing, but he’s away on some business trip for the next two weeks.

Things between you two are fine—casual, a few small dates here and there, nothing to write home about. It’s enough to keep your head above water, to keep romantic daydreams about the handsome DEA agent next door from completely taking over. 

You haven’t heard much from Javier’s side of the wall lately either. No muffled moans or the rhythmic creak of his bed frame emphasizing his nocturnal activities.

Out of sight, out of mind, you tell yourself. If you don’t hear him entertaining half of Bogotá, your feelings for him can stay dormant, tucked neatly into the recesses of your heart.

So, you figure it’s harmless to ask him to go to the theater with you this weekend. Friends catch movies together all the time, right? Besides, his life is unpredictable—he could get called into some crisis at a moment’s notice. No pressure.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come with me,” you ask, your voice soft but hopeful. “We can pick the movie when we get there.”

The way you ask, with that shy, almost hesitant charm, makes Javier’s heart do a ridiculous flip. He has to school his expression, keep his face neutral so he doesn’t show just how much your offer delights him. His instinct to tease nearly ruins the moment, though—he’s this close to asking about your little banker boyfriend. 

But instead, he soaks in the fact that it’s him you’re asking, not Mateo.

Whatever the reason, the thought of spending an evening with you—even if it’s just watching a movie—makes him feel like a giddy teenager, like the crush he’s been nursing forever has finally acknowledged him.  

“Makin’ time for me in that busy schedule of yours? I’m flattered, cariño. That sounds like a good time. I’m in,” he replies, taking a slow drag of his cigarette to mask the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You light up instantly, a bright smile spreading across your face. “Tú eres el que siempre está ocupado,” (You're the one who is always busy) you tease, testing the waters with your Spanish.

He huffs a quiet laugh, his dark eyes glinting with approval. “Tienes razón,” (You're right) he concedes, tipping his head in acknowledgment. “You’re gettin’ better and better. Pretty soon, you’re gonna be speakin’ better than me.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, and you can’t help the nervous giggle that slips out. “Highly doubt that, but thank you. How does Friday night sound? Meet me in the hallway at six?”

Javier tilts his head, feigning confusion as his brows knit together. “Lo siento, no hablo inglés, ¿puedes repetirlo?” (I'm sorry, I don't speak English. Could you repeat that?)

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, playfully narrowing your eyes at him as you pause to get your words right. “Encuéntrame en el pasillo a las seis el viernes,” (Meet me in the hallway at six on Friday) you say carefully, hoping you nailed the grammar.

His lips curve into a proud smile, his mustache twitching as he nods in approval. “Te veré allí. Good job, cariño.” (I'll see you there)

It’s almost eight when you knock on Javier’s door, your fingers fidgeting nervously as you wait.

Maybe he got tied up with work—God knows his job has a way of swallowing him whole.

Or maybe it just slipped his mind, which wouldn’t surprise you either; he does have a lot on his plate these days. 

Still, you’d been looking forward to this little outing, putting a little extra effort into your outfit, remembering all the little things that had happened to you during the week to share with him so he could get a good laugh out of them.

You wait a moment longer, but there’s no answer. A small pout tugs at your lips, disappointment sinking in. You tell yourself you saw this coming. It’s Javier, after all—unpredictable, chaotic Javier. You shouldn’t take it personally. 

But the tiny sting of hurt manages to land on that sore spot in your chest with his name tattooed over it. 

It’s okay, you think, pushing the feeling down. You’ll just reschedule. No big deal. It’s not like you don’t have other things to do—there’s that crossword book you picked up earlier to practice writing your Spanish. A quiet evening in doesn’t sound so bad. You’ll catch him later, maybe tease him for standing you up. 

You’ve barely turned the knob on your apartment door when the sound of laughter fills the air—a warm, familiar chuckle that makes your heart leap.

You freeze, turning toward the sound, your excitement flaring to life at the prospect of your plans not being canceled after all.

But the flicker of hope is short-lived. 

The door to the building swings open, and there he is, an arm wrapped possessively around the waist of a stunning woman. She’s tall, effortlessly beautiful with her curly brown hair, her laughter lilting as his lips graze her neck.

Your stomach drops.  

So he hadn’t forgotten because of work. He’d just… forgotten about you. Or chosen not to remember. The realization sears through you, twisting in your chest.

You feel rooted in place, unable to look away as your mind scrambles to catch up. 

Then his eyes find yours.  

The world seems to grind to a halt. Everything else fades—the woman on his arm, the noise of the building, even the ache in your chest.

All that exists is the intensity of his gaze locked with yours. His flirty, careless smile vanishes, replaced by something you can’t quite name. Guilt? Regret?  

It doesn’t matter.  

You wrench yourself away, slipping into your apartment before he can say anything. The door closes with a soft click, and you sag against it, chest heaving as you fight to steady your breath. Your eyes sting, but you refuse to let the tears fall.  

It’s not just that he stood you up. That’s not what makes the embarrassment swell in your throat. It’s that you’d been excited to spend time with him.

That you put in effort to your appearance, that you saved specific topics to discuss solely with him.

You’d allowed yourself to believe that your friendship mattered as much to him as it does to you.

But now, standing here with your heart feeling scraped raw, you’re starting to see it for what it is: your friendship only exists when it’s convenient for him. When there’s no one else in his bed, when he’s not risking his life in the streets.  

You bite down hard on your lip, willing the tears to stay put. You won’t cry for him. Not tonight. Not again.

Like clockwork, three steady knocks land against the door, each one reverberating through your back as you stay pressed against it. You don’t move, your hands curled into fists at your sides.

Should you answer? Or let him stand out there, forgotten as easily as he forgot you?

Your jaw tightens, anger sparking to life in your chest. It tempts you to yank the door open and unleash every ounce of frustration, to scream at him until your voice gives out, until he feels the intensity of all the feelings he stirs inside you.  

But you don’t.  

Instead, you straighten your posture, brushing away the stubborn tears that slipped past your defenses. You take a steadying breath, clearing your throat before finally opening the door.  

“Hola, Javier,” you greet, your tone clipped and flat.  

There he stands, every bit the picture of remorse. His brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, and his hands are shoved in his pockets like he’s trying to make himself smaller. “Cariño, I’m so sorry,” he starts, his voice low and rushed. “I got hung up at the office, then had to go out and vet some leads we got—”  

“It’s okay,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “It happens.”  

He flinches at your tone, guilt etched across his face. It’s written in the way his shoulders slump, the way his mouth opens and closes as if searching for the right thing to say. He knows he screwed up. Knows he let you down.  

The truth? He had forgotten. At first, it was the chaos of his job pulling him in a dozen directions, then following up on a tip from Helena.

But when they met at their usual spot, the drinks came easily—too easily. Her attention had been familiar, her touch comforting, and one thing led to another, as it always did with her. He hadn’t thought about anything else until he walked into the building and saw you.  

Until your wide, hurt eyes locked onto his and knocked the breath right out of him.  

“I’m free all day tomorrow,” he says now. “We can reschedule. I’ll even take you out to dinner to make it up to you.”  

There’s something so damn sincere in the way he looks at you, the way his tone drips with regret, that for a split second, you almost cave. Almost.  

But then you remember what’ll happen as soon as he leaves. He’ll go back to his apartment and you’ll have to hear him fuck her.

“No, Javier. Don’t worry about it,” you say firmly, each word clear with resolve. “I’ve got a busy weekend.” It’s a lie, but it feels necessary, a barrier to protect what little dignity you have left.

“Have fun vetting your lead.” You let the words hit their mark.

His expression falters, and you see the exact moment the weight of them sinks in, his lips parting as if to respond, to defend himself, to say something. But you don’t give him the chance.

With a steady hand, you close the door in his face.

The soft click of the latch is louder than it should be, final and resolute. You lean against the wood, staring blankly ahead as the quiet settles around you.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, the fiery ache of anger and something sharper—betrayal—coiling in your chest.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

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