#time to tag them all IN ORDER TOP TO BOTTOM

[bellaxgiornata]

Comfortable Here in the Chaos 2:| It's the Heat

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!friends with benefits!Reader Word Count: 3.9k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; shameless smut, friends with benefits, semi-public sex, slight spanking, the dangers of sundresses, Jax being a menace, slightly rough sex

Summary: With how hot it'd been in Charming all week, you'd been wearing sundresses to help survive the heat at work. But for the past few days, you'd also been teasing Jax in them, and today he'd finally had enough.

a/n: There was so much love on the first part of this 'series' that I literally wrote this one on the same day. And I...may have made an entire list of smutty thots I've had about Jax to fuel some other ones of these if y'all really are enjoying them quite that much, so don't be afraid to let me know. Because I am happy to give y'all more filthy Jax thots of mine. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Jax Teller one shot tag list: @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @bear-ink @secretlysamcro @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @bonnyclydecat @nutellajade @aria725

“Dammit, Chuckie,” you muttered to yourself.

Running a hand across your forehead, you were hunched over the desk in Teller-Morrow Automotive, your eyes focused on the papers scattered in front of you. Nothing was adding up correctly, so it appeared you'd be spending this afternoon trying to fix the error Chuckie had made earlier when you’d left for your lunch break. Something that happened frequently whenever Gemma disappeared and left him in charge during your breaks, or on the Saturdays you didn't work.

And it only meant more work for you.

Sighing in frustration, you pushed your chair away from the desk and stood up, walking around it and over to the filing cabinet in the corner of the office. The fabric of your sundress lightly brushed along your thighs with each step, the soft material skimming just above the tops of your knees. With how exceptionally hot it had been this week in Charming, you’d chosen to wear a sundress to work for the past three days just to survive the unbearably suffocating stale hot air while working in this office. And even that hadn't offered you much relief.

Reaching a hand out, you opened the drawer of the filing cabinet, your eyes scanning the row of labeled folders inside as the noise of the auto shop filled the air around you–your usual background noise while you worked. Bending over, your fingers lightly ran over the tops of each folder as you surveyed Gemma's handwriting in search of what you were looking for. After a minute you found the folder, both of your hands pulling it apart to look inside. Except it was completely empty.

Great, so he’d also mis-filed the paperwork now, too. 

This little error was now going to take a lot longer for you to fix, and that thought alone annoyed you further. You had inventory to order before your shift ended–new parts that Bobby had given you a list of just this morning. You didn’t have time to play Where Did Chuckie Put the Paperwork This Time. 

“How am I supposed to get anything done with you in here like this?”

Startling at the sound of Jax’s voice, your head whipped over your shoulder from where you were bent over the opened filing drawer. Jax was leaning against the closed door that led to the garage on the opposite end of the small office, his arms crossed over his chest. There was a slight flush to his cheeks from having been out in the heat, but your eyes quickly focused on the veins in his forearms. Briefly your mind flickered back to the memory from a week ago, when you were face down on his dorm bed at the clubhouse as he fucked you into the mattress, the only thing in your line of sight being those enticing veins along his strained muscles. 

But as your eyes shifted back up to his face, you became completely aware of Jax’s own gaze lingering along your ass where you were bent over. His bottom lip rolled back between his teeth in clear appreciation of it, his eyes not even bothering to leave the round curves that were on display. The look on his face told you exactly where his mind was, and suddenly yours was no longer on the situation Chuckie had created anymore.

“What do you mean, Jackson?” you asked coyly, still looking over your shoulder at him.

Uncrossing one of his arms, he gestured a hand at you. “You. Dressed like this. All goddamn week,” he answered. “It’s distracting as hell and you damn well know it.” 

Grinning, you returned your attention to the filing cabinet, rifling through a few more folders. Not that you were looking for anything anymore, but he didn't know that. You just liked the way his eyes were on you right now and you wanted to keep them there.

“Don't know what you're talking about, Jax,” you replied, pretending to sort through the folders. “It's just been so hot this week, figured I'd be more comfortable in a dress.”

“Bullshit.”

Your grin grew wider at his response before you purposefully pushed your hips further out, giving him a prime view of your ass. The hem of your dress inched up at the movement, baring more of the back of your thighs as it came dangerously close to the bottom of your ass.

The sound of a lock clicking met your ears, your brows drawing curiously together. Just as you glanced back over your shoulder to see what it was, you saw Jax had moved from his place against the door. He must have locked the one leading into the garage, because now he was closing the blinds on the window that overlooked it.

“And what do you think you're doing, Jax?” you asked him.

He casually sauntered over towards the other door in the office next, flipping the lock on it with that same, quiet click. His lips curled up into a smirk as he continued to watch you slightly straighten in front of the filing cabinet. 

“Giving us some privacy, baby,” he answered easily, voice smooth and even.

Your eyes tracked him across the office, watching as he closed the blinds on the window that overlooked the parking lot next. It didn't take you much longer to realize what he was getting at after that.

“Jax,” you began, standing fully upright again as he slowly made his way around the desk and back over towards you. “I'm in the middle of work.”

“Yeah,” he answered, that smirk not leaving his face as he nodded. “I can see that, darlin’. But it kinda looks like you could use a break.”

Your arms crossed over your chest now, the gesture drawing Jax’s gaze down to the way you had just created more cleavage for him to stare at. The look that crossed his eyes–one filled with obvious desire and want–had your body instantly reacting. 

“Can't have my favorite office girl getting too overworked,” he continued, a teasing lilt to his words.

Slowly, his gaze traveled up from the scoop neckline of your dress to eventually meet yours again. A tension filled the already sweltering office, the heat of it only making your mouth run dry. Jax reached a hand out, crossing the space between you both before the tips of his index and middle finger lightly traced the length of your jawline down to your chin, the gentle caress an extreme juxtaposition to the look of sheer lust in his eyes.

“You're already lookin’ a little stressed, baby,” he continued, the words far softer now. “But maybe I could help with that.”

His thumb brushed over your plush bottom lip before his hand changed its trajectory. His fingers leisurely slid down the column of your throat, his eyes following the path of them as they traveled down over the swell of your breasts. Breath coming in sharper, your lips parted as his large hand paused, taking its time kneading your left breast as his throat visibly bobbed with his own hard swallow. The heat from his palm deliciously traveled through both the fabric of your dress and bra, the feel of it causing wetness to pool between your thighs.

Eventually his hand continued its descent, traveling its way down along your ribcage as a slight shudder ran through you. When he slipped it around towards the dip in your lower back, only then did his focus shift from his hand and back up to you, the faintest hint of a smirk returning before his entire palm landed on the soft curve of your ass. Giving it a firm squeeze, he simultaneously tugged you forward towards himself.

“You realize the garage is open right now, right?” you whispered.

His tongue darted out, running over his lip as that smirk grew into a grin. “Yeah,” he answered.

Jax’s hand slid down your ass, making its way up beneath the thin fabric of your dress. A soft groan passed between his lips as his rough palm skimmed over your bare ass, taking his time appreciating the flesh beneath his fingers. His eyebrows rose back at you, that grin deviously spreading wider.

“That a thong, darlin’?” he questioned. 

“Jackson.” 

His name came out with a scolding note, which only had an amused huff falling from him as his hand continued to roam over your bare ass beneath the dress. Both of you knew that you weren’t going to resist him in the end, but you still felt like someone needed to have some semblance of rationality.

“It’s hot as shit in here and there’s a garage full of mechanics and Sons just past that wall,” you pointed out, emphasizing your words with a sharp gesture towards the garage. “This is hardly the time and place.”

“And yet–” 

Jax tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing contemplatively as his hand left your ass. Moving beneath the fabric of your dress, his fingers slipped over your hip and fell between your thighs. Taken by surprise, a soft gasp slipped out of you when you felt him cup you over your panties. The moment he slid his fingers gently back and forth just the once, he grinned at you triumphantly–like he’d just found what he was looking for.

“You’re wet, baby,” he told you. 

His hand slid out from beneath your dress, the material left awkwardly bunched up along your thighs. His expression turned cocky as he eyed you, one of his brows still raised at you as if he’d just proven his point with that alone. 

“Jax–it’s almost three in the afternoon,” you reminded him. “What if someone comes to the office to drop off their car?”

“Then I guess you better be quiet, huh?” he teased, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. “Besides, I locked both doors.”

He tugged on your wrist, pulling you away from the filing cabinets. Relenting, you took a few steps forward towards him, your eyes hesitantly watching him. He had something particular on his mind, you could see it.

Your feet halted when he stopped tugging on your wrist, releasing it from his hold before he stepped around behind you. Wordlessly, his hand rested along your lower back as his expression shifted to something of a silent question, one clearly asking if you wanted him to continue. But of course you did, even if you knew it was quite likely that the entire garage might be about to hear you.

When you didn't stop him, Jax's hand on your back urged you forward with just enough force to get your feet moving again. You continued until your thighs bumped into the back of the desk in the office, the one still scattered with the papers Chuckie had messed up. Still completely silent, you felt the flat of Jax’s hand run up the length of your spine until it came to rest along the nape of your neck. He pressed against it firmly and you immediately complied, bending forward over the desk as your ass simultaneously pressed back against the front of him.

You could feel it. The growing bulge in his jeans now cradled between the cushion of your ass. Even though you’d been protesting the time and place a minute ago, you couldn’t resist the urge to press back into it, grinning when you heard the soft groan fall out of him in response. But then his hand on the back of your neck held you more firmly against the desk, your cheek pressed against the paperwork that had been giving you a headache not that long ago.

“Don’t go gettin’ any ideas, baby,” he warned you. “Cause you’re about to learn what happens when you tease me with these fucking little dresses of yours.” He paused, his tongue running over his teeth behind his closed lips. “Now stay there.” 

His hand left the back of your neck, but the tone of his voice was enough to keep you from resisting. Though that didn’t stop you from straining to look back at him behind you, watching as his hands gripped the material of your dress before he bunched it in his hands and hiked it up over your waist. 

“I told you, Jackson,” you said, “I wasn’t teasing you. I’m wearing them because of the heat.”

His eyes shifted over to meet yours, his expression remaining steadfast. You’d been so focused on him that you hadn’t realized what he was doing until you felt it–the sharp, decisive smack of his palm against your bare ass. A gasp slipped out of you as you slid just a fraction along the top of the desk at the impact, the papers shifting beneath you. A second later, the stinging turned into a pleasant burn as your eyes held his.

“And I told you that’s bullshit,” he shot back, his hand running over the curve of your ass to smooth the place he’d just hit. “Isn't this what you were hoping would happen?”

One of his shoes slipped between your feet, kicking them apart as he stood behind you. Your eyes remained on him, completely unable to look away from what he was doing.

“Don't tell me you haven't been in here all week teasing me,” he husked. “I've seen you eyeing me through the damn windows in here. I've seen the look on your face.”

His hand stopped smoothing over your ass to hook a finger in the fabric of your thong before he pulled it off to the side and out of the way. Your hands curled into fists against the surface of the desk, anticipation coursing through you as you watched him begin to undo his belt buckle next. 

“You're wearing those fucking things cause you wanted me to come in here,” he continued, slowly undoing the button of his jeans before lowering his zipper, “and bend you over this goddamn desk. That's what you wanted, isn't it, darlin’?”

“Jax, I wasn’t–”

You broke off on a sharp intake of breath when you heard him spit onto his hand before he was rubbing it along you, getting you ready for him. A soft moan fell out of you at the feel of his fingers before you could stop it. Not even seconds later you felt the thick tip of him rubbing against your entrance and your eyelids slowly lowered. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were as another low moan passed between your lips, the sound just barely audible over the noise of tools from the garage.

“Careful, darlin’,” Jax warned, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Unless you want everyone out there to know exactly what I’m doing to you right now.”

His words were sobering, your eyes opening once more from where your cheek was still resting along your desk. Immediately you were met with that smug grin on his face as he stood over you from behind. He huffed out a laugh at how quickly you’d quieted before he finally pushed himself into you in one fluid thrust. Eyes rolling partially back at the feel of him, your breath caught in your throat at him suddenly stretching you so damn good. 

But he didn’t give you long to adjust before he dragged his cock out so torturously slowly only to slam himself back into you so hard that the front of your thighs banged loudly into the metal of the desk. Hands balled so tight along the surface of it, you could feel your nails biting into your palm as you grit your teeth together in an attempt to hold back the cry that almost flew out of you at that brutal thrust. 

“Fuck, your pussy’s always so goddamn tight, baby,” he hissed out.

Jax began to set a firm, unforgiving pace with his hips, one of his hands landing onto the desk behind your head with a solid thunk, the sound quickly followed by the noise of a document being crumpled beneath his hand. The noise just barely registered in your ears, but you didn’t give a shit right now, not when his other hand gripped your hip so tight you could feel it as he held you in place. 

Jax savagely buried his cock inside of you over and over, his pace never wavering as he fucked you with a relentless passion, the sounds of his grunts causing you to clench and squeeze his cock. After a few minutes, you felt him lower his front to mold himself against your back, his hot breaths now falling over the side of your face.

Trapped under the weight of him now, you were pressed so hard against the desk that you couldn’t move. The roughness of his leather kutte kept rubbing against your bare skin each time he slammed into you, the coolness of it a pleasant contrast to how you were currently burning up. Sweat began accumulating over your skin as the desk beneath you both began to slide with a soft screech along the floor each time his hips rammed roughly into your ass, your thighs still loudly slamming into the metal of it. 

His cock kept hitting you so deep in this position that he kept reaching that spot. That spot which had you whimpering quietly under him, fighting to keep yourself from making too much noise as the guys in the garage continued working and talking just beyond the office. A breathy laugh fell out of Jax right beside your ear, the sound causing your pussy to involuntarily tighten around him. 

“This is the quietest you’ve ever been, baby,” he grunted out against your ear between thrusts. “Sure you don’t want them to hear how much you love this cock?”

“You’re such a–” you broke off on a particularly deep thrust, just as Jax’s teeth sunk into the curve between your neck and your shoulder, “–cocky ass sometimes.”

His responding chuckle vibrated against your skin as he kept thrusting into you, your eyes growing half-lidded the longer he continued. His teeth sunk into your neck next, and that delicious wave of pleasure began creeping its way over you each time he buried himself a little deeper. You were getting closer to your release, beginning to grow lightheaded from the pleasure and the heat in the office alike. No doubt it would smell like sex and sweat in here by the time you’d both finished–something you wouldn’t be able to hide.

His hand gripped your hip even tighter, his fingers digging deep into your flesh as his own thrusts began to lose their consistency. He was getting closer himself, you could tell by the way he was moving and the grunts that were falling into your ear between the soft kisses he’d started placing at the base of your jaw. 

“You close, baby?” he murmured against your skin. “Gonna come for me?”

He was still pressed over the back of you, the desk continuing to shift along the floor–though not nearly as much as it had been with his earlier forceful thrusts. You could only nod in response along the desk, a soft hum coming from you as you kept your teeth grit tight together.

His hand released your hip, sliding around to the front of you as his middle finger began rubbing your clit, giving you that extra little push. Your eyes snapped shut instantly, a strangled noise getting caught in your throat. 

“There you go,” he encouraged, his lips brushing along your neck with the words. “Now you're feeling good, huh?”

“Shit, Jax,” you whined through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, baby?” he breathed out. “You wanna say that a little louder?”

But you couldn’t speak, too afraid that you'd open your mouth and spill out all the cries of pleasure you were fighting down. He damn well knew what he was doing right now, especially as his finger kept rubbing along your clit. 

It only took a few more deep thrusts into you before you suddenly felt yourself coming hard on his cock. Turning your face into whatever document was beside you, you forced down the scream that threatened to fly out of you. The noise from the auto shop barely drowned out the obscene sound of skin on skin in the office as Jax continued to fuck you, chasing after his own release as you came undone beneath him. 

He was clearly too far gone himself to remark on how silent you were as you bit your lip to keep from making too much noise. But by the time you’d made it to the other side of your climax, you felt him abruptly bury himself so deep inside of you with an animalistic grunt beside your ear that you knew he was there before you felt it. Warm spurts of his release steadily filled you as he came, groaning beside your ear as his hips gave a few more sharp snaps while he finished inside of you. 

When he finally emptied inside of you, you could feel his chest heaving against your back. His cock still fully seated in you, you lay there trying to catch your breath yourself, your eyelids fluttering. 

“Fucking shit,” Jax breathed out, panting hard. His mouth still hovered beside your ear, his warm breath still brushing along your cheek. “Fucking hot as hell in here.”

Laying there bent over your desk, his tattooed forearm was the only thing you could see. A soft, tired laugh fell out of you at the truth of his words. The room did in fact feel ten degrees hotter after that.

“Yeah,” you murmured, still blissed out along the desk. “That didn’t help with the heat.”

Jax huffed at your comment before he leaned forward further, pressing his lips to your temple, letting them linger longer than necessary. You’d noticed him occasionally giving you these tender little gestures–something you assumed was due to your friendship in conjunction with the sex.

“Helped with somethin’ else, though,” he countered.

Opening your mouth, you’d been about to respond, but the sound of the door handle turning caught both of your attention. Jax groaned quietly before he slipped himself out of you, beginning to put himself back together behind you. As the door handle was jiggled more firmly again, you pushed yourself up from the top of the desk, readjusting your panties before tugging your dress back down. With a frown, you noticed the mess you’d both just made of your work, but the voice that came from the other side of the door had your eyes widening in shock.

“Why the hell is the goddamn door locked when we’re still open?”

“Goddamit,” Jax muttered under his breath.

With a horrified look, you glanced over at Jax beside you while your hands frantically smoothed your dress down. “Why the fuck did it have to be your mother?” you whispered harshly. “She’s absolutely going to know what just happened in here.”

Buckling his belt, Jax shrugged as a lazy smile that was half-apologetic and half-entertained spread over his lips. “Dunno, baby,” he answered. “But this is all your fucking fault for wearing those damn dresses. So I'll let you deal with my mother.”

Jaw dropping at the audacity of him, you watched as he sent you a wink before turning towards the door leading back to the garage. Without a backwards glance, he left you standing there in the office looking just as disheveled as your desk while Gemma’s voice called through the door once more.

[agender-pidgeon]

♡ The Gang's All Here ♡

[dreamlnder]

yawnn oc art dump

[possamble]

jesus im backed up on work

[raven-dor]

tell me you love me

in which bucky barnes is told some startling news on the phone…

PAIRING: bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x avenger!reader

WARNINGS: miscommunication, nosy roommates, sass, sam wilson teasing peter parker, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

🎶 : two hands - tate mcrae

AN: literally one of my favorite fics i've ever written!! also, this is a Avengers live in the tower AU, no civil war ever occurred, so yay!! ALSO - let me know if you want to be on my taglist!! i'd love to have you!!

It had been out of nowhere. You hadn’t even realized the gravity of the situation until you were met with silence from the other line. 

“What’s for dinner?” His gruff voice had shivers running down your spine.

“I don’t know.” You hummed, the phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you walked down the grocery store aisles. “What are you craving?” 

“Burgers?” It was more of a question, he was waiting for you to confirm you were also craving said meal. He always did this, waiting for you to decide before he made his decision. It was not missed by you that earlier that week, you’d talked about how badly you craved a classic cheeseburger.

You laughed, the others in the aisle giving you annoyed looks, not that you minded. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Barnes.” 

“Oh?” You could tell he was holding back laughter. “You would think after all that time in HYRDA...” 

“Bucky!” You yelled, this time noticing the looks your fellow shoppers gave you. Whispering, you chuckled to yourself. “Don’t joke about that.” 

“Why not?” He was most certainly frowning. 

“If that’s how you want to cope…” You trailed off, looking at the price tag on the buns, eyes widening at the amount and quickly setting them back down. “You sleep well?” 

“Next to you? Always.” He sounded spirited, much more spirited than he’d been when you left him to go shopping. Good, you told yourself, he was too often found brooding alone, it was nice to hear him so… so mischievous. “You know I do, Doll.” 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely. “I know. Just wanted to hear you say it.” 

Grabbing the meat from the deli counter, you walked toward the checkout, frowning when you saw that the self-checkout kiosks were out of order. “Babe?” 

He hummed. 

“I’m gonna have to let you go, okay? The kiosks are out of order.” 

He groaned. “Again?”

You nodded as if he could see you. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“See you soon. I love you.” The peace before the realization had been fleeting, reality hitting you like a truck. Almost instantly, your heart flipped, and your eyes widened.

Bucky had been dead silent, and you secretly hoped your voice had cut out, that the service had saved you, and he hadn’t heard it. 

Not that you didn’t mean it. You’d loved him for longer than you cared to admit, but with his past, you hadn’t wanted to rush anything. You didn’t want him to feel forced. Like right now.

“Buck?” You whispered, eyes welling at his lack of response. “Are you there?” Again, no response. You pushed the red button, hands shaking as the call disconnected.

Shit. 

Which led you to now, racing home without the food you’d promised. When the team had decided to all live in the tower together, they made a pact. If you asked anyone else, it had been more of a forced pact, thanks to Steve. 

Each Avenger would make dinner, alternating every night. Today had been your day, and now not only were you coming home empty-handed, but you were also planning to drop off the face of the Earth, which completely defeated the purpose of your job and its responsibilities. 

It was a wonder, you told yourself as you waited for the elevator doors to open, that Bucky hadn’t been there to meet you in the lobby, waiting for an explanation. Or worse, disgust on his perfect face. 

You kept your head down as you landed on the top floor, all but running to your room. Slamming the door behind you, you ordered Friday to bar everyone from entering.

The computer system spoke back, voice as posh as ever. “Does that include Mr. Barnes?” 

“Yes.” You huffed, heart thumping. “Especially Mr. Barnes.” 

“Has something happened?”

“You could say that.” Checking under your bed, the balcony, the closet, and the bathroom, a sigh of relief left you knowing that Bucky wasn’t already there, hiding.

Everything had been perfect, up until your slip. He asked to take it slow, mainly due to ‘not wanting to disrupt the team dynamic.’ You’d understood, and you’d also understood that he had another reason, one that he wouldn’t speak aloud, but that you both knew. 

He wanted to take it slow and slow did not contain saying ‘I love you’ four months after you started dating. 

A knock rang through your room, breaking you from your thoughts. Looking at the door with fear pumping through your veins, you waited for him to speak. 

“Y/N?” 

You’d almost sighed with relief. Almost. “Yeah?” 

“What’d you end up getting for dinner?” Nat called out. “Wilson’s asking.” 

“I-” Grabbing your wallet, you slid your credit card under the door. “Order whatever you want.” 

“Okay.” Nat sounded curious. “So, what happened?” 

“Why- why would you ask that?” 

“Other than the fact you won’t show your face, and Friday is barricading me from entering?” The super-spy sounded fed up. “What did he do?” 

“He?” Your voice was a mere squeak. 

“Yes, he. Everyone knows you two are dating, don’t act so surprised. It’s my job to know these sorts of things.” 

You glared at the door. “That’s not at all your job, Natasha.” 

“What’s going on?” 

You groaned, shoving your face into your pillow. At this point, the whole team would know your business by dinner. “Go away, Wanda.” 

“What’s happened?” The Sokovian whispered.

“Barnes did something,” Nat muttered. “Won’t say what exactly, but-” 

“Nat!” You yelled, lifting your head. “I can hear you, you know.” 

“Let us in, Y/N.” Wanda sounded as if she was frowning. “What did he do that was so bad-” 

“It wasn’t him.” You sighed. “It- it was me.” 

“What happened?” Wanda’s voice was gentle. “You can tell us.” 

“I really can’t.” You whined. “One second.” Grabbing a piece of paper from your desk, you scribbled down the infamous three words, slipping it under the door. “Shit, Y/L/N. Isn’t that a little soon?” 

Your eyes widened. “What the hell, you two? Why is Sam there?” 

Wanda sounded deeply apologetic. “It’s not just Sam.” 

“I’m here too.” Peter squeaked. 

“Me too.” Tony’s voice sounded much too entertained, and you glared at the door.

“Yeah!” Clint sounded suspiciously high like he was in the vents again. You reminded yourself to reprimand him when the dust cleared. 

“Y/N! Why are you hiding in your room?” Thor’s thunderous voice rang clear over the rest of the supposed crowd that had formed. 

“Thor.” Bruce sounded extremely annoyed. “We’re inside, you don’t need to shout.” 

“Yeah, what the green guy said.” Rhodey’s voice echoed. 

“Go away!” You yelled, sitting against the door. “I-” 

“What’s going on here?” Steve’s voice sounded distant, like he was walking down the hall. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for him to do what everyone else had done. 

But it never came. 

“Have any of you seen Buck? Last time I saw him, he was on the phone. Haven’t seen him since.” 

You were certain Nat and Tony were smirking. “Why don’t you ask Y/N.” 

“Why? Are they together?” 

Tony sounded like he was holding back tears, not from sadness, but from laughter. “After this? Questionable.” 

“Tony!” You yelled, smacking the door. “Shut up!” 

“Give me that.” Getting off the floor, you looked through the peephole, watching in horror as he read the paper. “Break it up, all of you.” Protests broke out, all of them yelling at Steve. “We’re not talking about this any longer. It’s not our business.” 

“C’mon-” 

Steve glared at the billionaire, and he instantly shut up. “Tony.” 

He raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. What’s for dinner then?” 

“Whatever you want.” You yelled out. “Just use my card.”

Tony shook his head. “After the day you’ve had, it’s my treat.” 

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. “Just leave the food at my door when it gets here.” 

“No.” Steve’s hands were on his hips, and you could see Peter and Wanda holding back laughter. He looked like a concerned father. “You will leave your room and have dinner with the rest of us.” 

“Yeah, Y/N.” Tony echoed, not even trying to hide his laughter. “C’mon out.” 

“Steve, please.” You begged. “I can’t see him right now.” 

“He’s not even here, дорогой (sweetheart),” Wanda yelled out. “Please come out, we’re worried about you.” 

“I am not leaving.” You shook your head. “You can’t make me.” 

The dinner table was quiet, the entirety of the Avengers (minus Bucky) staring at you with utter fascination. Well, more like a mix of pity, worry, and fascination. 

Peter cleared his throat, smiling kindly. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I did the same thing, and it all turned out fine.” 

That brought you some inkling of hope. “Really?” 

The teenager nodded. “She was very nice about it. We’re still friends.” 

Your face fell, dropping your head into your hands. The table erupted with laughter, and Peter’s cheeks grew bright red in record time. 

“Not exactly the smartest thing you could’ve said there, kid.” Tony snickered.

“Ease up, Tony,” Steve interjected. “He’s trying, unlike all of you.” 

“He meant well.” Vision finally spoke, much to everyone’s surprise. “There was no malice in his tone.” 

Clint smirked. “Yeah, Y/N. No malice. Does that bring you comfort?”

You raised your right hand, flipping him off.  

Sam shook his head. “I just want to eat, man. Eat, and see Bucky’s reaction.” 

Sitting up, you glared at the Falcon. “You’re excited for my demise, you psychopath.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“What’s-” The table turned around, dead silent as they stared at the Winter Soldier, who looked perfectly fine, content even. He stood in front of them with a bright smile, food in hand. “What’s going on?” 

“What’s going on?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you tell us?” You wished your superpower was invisibility. Unfortunately, it was not, so you opted for sinking further into your seat. “Nothing happened recently you want to share?” 

His smile fell. “No?”

Sam groaned, standing up and pulling the food from the super soldier’s hands. “Please. I’m starving.” 

Nat laughed. “I thought you wanted to see his reaction.” 

“Reaction?” Bucky sounded confused. “Reaction to what, exactly?” 

Thor was the final push. “I love you!” 

“I love you too?” Bucky sat down, eyes brightening when he met yours. You quickly stared at your hands, which were placed in tight balls in your lap. 

“Not me. Y/N. The words Y/N-” 

Clint slapped a hand over Thor’s mouth, glaring. “That’s enough out of you, big guy.” 

“What?” Bucky tilted his head, staring at you, with what seemed to be a glimpse of hope in his gaze. “When did you-” 

“On the phone?” Nat interjected. “You were on the phone, and Y/N said-” 

“Nat.” You hissed. “Stop, please.” 

“Y/N?” Bucky looked at you. “What’s going on?” 

So the phone had cut out. The phone had cut out, meaning if you had just kept your big mouth shut, everything would have been fine. 

And if Thor hadn’t opened his mouth, maybe you could have made it out with your dignity. “Nothing, James.” Reaching out, you grabbed your order from the pile, the rest of the Avengers following suit. Bucky stayed still, staring at you intently. 

You tried to focus on your dinner, on the conversation that started after, but every time you looked up, he was staring at you with his ice-blue eyes. “Doll?” The table quieted, staring at the pair. “Can we talk?” 

You swallowed the food that you’d been chewing, nodding slowly. You felt like you were being marched to your death as you followed him out of the dining room. Sparing one last look at the dinner table, Wanda and Peter gave you a half-hearted thumbs up. 

The hall was dim, Bucky’s eyes bore into your soul as he waited for an explanation. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Nothing-” You grew small when he sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, but you could tell he was panicking. You told each other everything, you were sure he was breaking a sweat from your lack of transparency. “Then tell me.” You stayed silent, and he took a step forward, practically backing you up against the wall. “Please, Doll.” 

You were sure this was a nightmare. A horrible horrible nightmare. “We were on the phone… and I um… I may or may not have said that I love you.” He did not react, continuing to stare at you. That’d made you even more nervous, and you began to ramble as a result. “And you didn’t reply, so I panicked, and then I hung up. I came home and hid in my room and then everyone found out and then I found out you didn’t even hear it, and-” You took a shallow breath. “I don’t want you to feel rushed or forced because I want you to feel comfortable, because I really do-” You stopped, looking up at him hesitantly. “I really do love you.” He was fully grinning now, and you frowned. “Are you about to laugh at me?” 

He shook his head placing his hand on the wall above you as he leaned down. “No.” 

“No?” You scoffed, ignoring the way his eyes had darkened. “You’re smirking, and I’m being vulnerable and you’re- you-” You huffed, walking away from him. “Maybe we should just-” Escape had almost been achieved when his metal hand wrapped around your wrist, spinning you around. “Stop.” You felt trapped in a spell, a horrifyingly beautiful spell. He stared at you so intensely that your knees buckled. “Buck-” 

He was still grinning. “I love you too.” 

“I-” You smiled. “You do?” 

“C’mon Doll.” He teased, brushing his nose against yours as he reached for your lips. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, still not believing this was real life. “You-” His lips were rushed; like he needed to kiss you to live. Placing his other arm around your waist, he pulled you impossibly close, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He could have gone on kissing you senseless for hours, but you pulled away, gasping for air. “Buck-” 

“You are so considerate, too considerate even.” He whispered. “I did want to take things slow, you’re right.” 

You nodded. “If you-” 

“Did I-” He kissed you before you could finish your sentence. “Or did I not,” He kissed you so gently, so longingly. “Just tell you that I love you too?” 

You were positively weak in the knees. “You did.” 

“I did want to take things slow, but you…” He almost growled. “You happened.” 

“Oh?” You were grinning now, actually grinning. “I’m assuming I happened in a good way.” 

“In a perfect way.” He corrected, pushing a hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “You’re too good for me, Doll. Don’t deserve you.” 

“I don’t know, Barnes.” You shook your head, kissing the corner of his mouth so lightly he could have sworn it never happened. “You’re pretty swell.” 

He rolled his eyes, pushing you away teasingly. “Never mind then.” 

You gasped, stalking back into the dining room, the Avengers observing from the safe distance the table provided. “In that case-” 

His hand wrapped around your wrist once more, pulling your lips to his instantly. Wolf whistles erupted, all of them laughing at the couple in front of them. Your hands rested on his chest, smiling as he pulled away, lips still touching. “Did you really have to do that?” 

He shrugged. “Just wanted another reason to kiss you.” 

“So sappy.” You teased. “What a charmer you are.” 

“Well,” He leaned toward your ear, whispering. “I aim to please.” 

“Break it up!” Sam yelled, mouth full of food. “I’m trying to eat here. Plus…” He pointed to Peter, laughing. “There’s kids present.” 

“I’m eighteen, Sam.” 

“Still a kid, Parker.” 

taglist:

[eintausendschoen]

POV: It is Valentines Day. You followed an invitation to a bar on Mount Helicon, for an event called "The Blue Hearts Club". A mysterious invite extended by a total stranger... with the promise of a relaxing night out. Some well deserved Me-Time.

At the door, the owner of the place greets you like she knows you. She says her name is Kalliope, one of the Muses, but you do not know her.

When she points you at a crowded table at the back of the room you follow.

There, of course, you realize what the invite meant by...

... "Me-Time. Uh-huh.... riiiiight..."

The Muse winks at you as she pases, distributing another round of drinks. "Welcome to Valentine's!", she laughs, and from across the table laughter joins: "Yeah, with yourself!!"

For @dxwart — sorry to spring this on you but ... ah... that WAISTCOAT just had to be shown around. 💜 (link to the artwork)

🤩Shoutouts to all the beautiful beautiful people who lend me their designs to play with to make this date happen. You are all AMAZING artists and THANK YOU for all the good vibes here and making Poseidonverse happen!!🤩

From left to right, top to bottom and then right to left again (in terms of order 🤌) because life in the sea is a circle: In purple and gold, Poseidon by @rin-sith - he is so much fun to draw it is riddiculous.

Next to him, the cheeky lil' king (who really isn't little at all, believe me, everyone else is just so enormous, there is a sizechart but it blew the scale) with the luscious hair and the prettiest scales: Poseidon in a more mortal-ish form by @ruthlessness69

Okay, you all know him and he's half across the table already. This king is having LA FIESTA tonight, because he got a list, and now he got more names. @messymoonmad - he did that all on his own, I swear by Styx. (I love him so much.)

Yeah, canon Poseidon. He was there first, and now he's having a hard time holding onto his drink. 😘

Seacreature at the back is the lower half of @tagzpite glorious Poseidon. He might have just lost a bet, but he is a good sport. Also, checking out that blue-haired devil across the table already. (I just borrowed him last minute, he got dragged along - hope it's alright. He'll be returned intact.) Next three... most chaotic throuple (if you can call it that) in the history of saltwater. Poseidon of @pink-noah tried to snatch the hand of @kamuch-kommandos hot dark menace. Got snatched in turn and poor him, Tall Dark and Handsome got a death grip. All just because Poseidon by @bigidiotenergytm went to win a dare and smooch the Big Gun at risk of ear-injury.

Guess @melodyartists Poseidon owe's him a drink now. (He squeezed in last minute when I stumbled upon your post where he introduced himself to the popular girls, and of course I had to bring him into this mess. Hope it's alright? :)) ) Poseidon by @anniflamma, but her awesome new design. He wanted a word with @neal-illustrator's (neals not active here afaik but tagging anyway), so they made an appearance. Mostly because...

...you know them, you love them, you windbaarrrghl. Is it Cloudysseus shlepping Cloudseidon in to steal grapes together? Is it Zeus spying on his brother's Valentines date? Nobody knows. @kdpartworks thank you so much for lending them - I'll return them safe and sound when Poseidon gets back home.

To his left... @wukyma - he did the vase-face again. Why is he so cute when he does that? I'm such a big fan this wet grumpy cat, especially with Polites. (And how do you draw his curls??? That was so hard!) Of course he'd sit next to Gorgeous by @arraunean and trade war stories. No armour for the bar, but these two are classic guys and this is Helicon, so the comfy draperies to go with the wine.

And last - your host's 'not-quite-boss': he's mine, :))

Happy Valentine's everyone <3

[touchme-teezme]

I'm Sorry.

PAIRINGS | collegeboy!seonghwa x fab!reader

TAGS | plot with some porn, strangers to lovers, one night stand situationship, idk man he came over to build legos, there’s some attempted flirting and teasing, lots of making out, lots of tongue, unprotected vanilla sex, seonghwa lowkey a bop, bruh i am so bad at tagging bye i give up

RATING | NSFW 21+ (Minors pls DNI/if it makes you uncomfortable don’t read thx)

SUMMARY | Seonghwa needed a break. He also decided something had to change — and that led him to a few unexpected places in one night, including something dangerously close to his disaster feelings and while you were clearly the escape, he ran the other way.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | …hey…. how y’all doing?… sorry i was getting cheated on and also started a really important internship. It just ended (the internship and the relationship) so… we’re so…back? Thank you for being so sweet in the inboxes, this was a long one. i finished editing during valentine’s day i think? i was thinking about hwa’s slutty fingers after seeing that one concert video and ugh my mind went places oK omg i will shut up now. Bye, enjoy.

Inspired by 'Do You Like Me?" by Daniel Cesar. I have been listening to that NEVER ENOUGH album so much lately.

💌 click here to see my Love Interrupted series masterlist [ot8] — check out the other parts!

This was going to be the first and last time Seonghwa ever took advice from Jung Wooyoung.

In his defence, he’d hit a new low. Lower than rock bottom. Which is why the resident exemplary student, honour roll with a self-imposed 9 p.m. bedtime was standing outside the hottest nightclub in Itaewon, sporting a fresh haircut and an outfit entirely stolen from his roommate’s wardrobe.

His dating life chewed him up and spat him out, and now he was determined to do the absolute most to cope. He was hurt and hell-bent on distraction from whatever the fuck was even going on in that part of his life.

How he ended up getting ghosted by his situationship wasn’t nearly as baffling as how Wooyoung had somehow convinced over half their friend group to spend their Friday night here, of all places. They weren’t really party people — well, half of them weren’t. The ones who were into it had conveniently been excused from showing up.

Yunho, on the other hand, had been on the dance floor non-stop, while Wooyoung played hype man from the booth, cheering him on like it was a solo concert.

Wooyoung nudged Seonghwa’s shoulder with his knee from the top edge of the booth like a gremlin surveying chaos.

“Dude, she’s been staring at you all night.”

Seonghwa shot him a flat look. “And?”

“And,” Wooyoung slid down from his perch and dropped onto the seat beside him with a dramatic sigh, “Yunho and I are taken, and those two are a lost cause.”

Seonghwa glanced across the table. Hongjoong looked like he was losing a battle with sleep, while Yeosang scrolled through his phone, sipping from Hongjoong’s drink. He hadn’t smiled once all night — clearly here for the same reason Seonghwa was: moral support. But the chaos of the club made heart-to-hearts impossible.

“That leaves you,” Wooyoung said matter-of-factly. “Dude. She’s hot and interested. You’re hot and miserable. Classic rebound opportunity.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung shrugged. “But I’m also right. Just look.”

He reached over, grabbed Seonghwa’s chin, and turned his head toward the bar.

And there you were — leaning back with easy confidence, swirling your drink, eyes locked on him with a smirk that stole the air right out of his lungs.

“Trust me,” Wooyoung grinned. “She’s perfect for helping you forget that loser.”

This would go down as the second and definitely the absolute last time Seonghwa ever took advice from Jung Wooyoung. Five minutes later, he’d been kicked out of the booth with one order: Don’t come back without her number.

That’s how he found himself now, seated next to you, drink in hand, trying to remember how to function like a normal human.

“Not a fan of clubs?” You asked, leaning slightly nearer to him to yell over the loud music.

“I hate it. I think I’m having an identity crisis,” He blurted out as he shook his head, the liquor loosening his lips faster than his brain could catch up.

You laughed, but not unkindly. “I'm sorry to hear that. Well… I don’t live far if you wanna have some peace and quiet.”

“Oh. Uh…”

“I…have a cat, too. She loves company if you like cats.”

Your invitation slipped past his defences smoother than the drink in his hand. One last sip, and he was already on his feet—jacket in one hand, your purse slung over the other shoulder.

That was all it took.  Seonghwa couldn't help but wish it was the way you were looking at him or how your skirt was riding up coincidentally the longer he sat next to you. But nope, it was the thought of being able to distract himself and pretend like this night out never even happened and getting him far away from whatever this hellscape was.

Clubs really weren’t his thing.

He barely registered the triumphant double thumbs-up from Wooyoung or the way Yunho covered his dropped jaw as he watched the two of you walk out together.

Seonghwa’s heart pounded so hard it echoed in his ears. Taking a cab to your place with a confident, effortlessly cool girl like you was far outside his usual playbook. For a second, he wasn’t even sure what to say.

Thankfully, conversation came easily to you.

The ride melted into light chatter about university — shared gripes about professors, mutual hatred for certain classes. You discovered you were in the same course but at rival schools, which only added to the banter. There was laughter, playful jabs, and an unexpected comfort that settled between you.

By the time the cab pulled up to your place, Seonghwa was far more at ease than when he’d left the booth.

Your apartment was warm and cosy, lit with soft golden light that cast slow-moving shadows across the walls. Seonghwa stepped inside and hesitated in the middle of the living room, awkwardly stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, unsure of where to stand or sit.

You smiled as you hung up your coat, amused by his stiffness.

“Relax. Make yourself at home.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Sorry.” He took in the space again, then gave you a sheepish look.

“So… is this the part where you admit you don’t actually have a cat?”

“Would you be mad if I did?” you teased, stepping a little closer.

His heart stuttered. He opened his mouth to respond, but then-

“Oh, shit!”

His eyes went wide as they landed on something across the room — a pristine box of a Lego orchid set sitting on the coffee table. He practically rushed over.

“I’ve wanted this for so long!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, his excitement too endearing to be upset over what the box represented.

“Oh, yeah. It was a birthday gift for someone… but I never got to give it to him. I was going to return it tomorrow or something.”

He glanced down at the box in his hands. “Have you ever built a set before?” he asked suddenly.

“I don’t have the patience for Lego,” you admitted.

He held out a hand, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “This one’s easier than my last build. We’ll be done in no time. I promise.”

Somewhere between sorting bricks and swapping stories, Seonghwa realized he was actually getting to know you. What started as throwaway chatter had spiraled into a shared spiral; bad dates, worse decisions, and the Valentine’s Day disasters that landed you both at that club.

Now sitting cross-legged beside you, he was down to the last few pieces, fitting them together with ease —until your voice cut in again.

“I still think it’s insane how yours just ghosted you,” you voiced your opinion once his story was over as you laid on your stomach, “If I was in that position, I’d be running for a second chance, like that wouldn’t have even been a question.

Seonghwa’s hands faltered, fingers tightening around a tiny brick as he felt heat rush up to his cheeks. He let out a breathy laugh, snapping one of the last pieces into place. Then, a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe it was my fault. I come on too strong sometimes and… it just didn’t work out.”

“Which is exactly why I think it’s crazy,” You clarified, with your chin resting in your hands, propped up on your elbows. “Like, if I had you chasing after me? Wow.”

You were only yapping away, if anything it was to keep yourself awake. You let out a quiet chuckle at the absurdity of saying something like that to someone you literally just met, but you caught the way he was looking at you. And maybe… the way you said it didn’t sound so hypothetical anymore.

His fingers tightened around the last brick in his hand, looking down at it.

“…What would you do?” he suddenly asked, the words slipping out before he could think them through. “If I was chasing you?”

You shrugged, still focused on finishing your flower, but there was something different in the air now. You could feel it. The way his voice had dropped, how his eyes lingered just a moment too long.

“I don’t know… anything you’d want. Like, come on.” You tried to brush it off with another laugh, but even you could notice the shift in the air between you both.

“Come on… what?”

He didn’t laugh back. Instead, he leaned in a little, just enough to close the space between you. His gaze was intense as it focused on you but the question still hung in the air.

You slowly looked up at him, you knew exactly what he was doing.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, barely above a breath.

He huffed a quiet breath, trying to ground himself. “You didn’t invite me here for some peace and quiet, did you?”

You felt your carpet under the palms of your hands as you sat up, still watching him. “Technically… I invited you back for peace and quiet away from everyone else.”

“To do what?”

“You really want me to spell it out for you?” You couldn't bite back that smile. “Me inviting you is one thing, but why did you come?”

He didn’t respond, just held your gaze. You leaned in and your fingers found his jaw, light and slow. With that, you closed the gap, pressing your mouth firmly against his. Your hands roamed down his hard chest, tracing the contours and marvelling at how he flexed beneath your touch.

A low moan escapes his throat as he returns your kiss with equal fervour, his hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your tongues moved together, exploring every nook of each other's mouths.

The kiss momentarily broke for him to trail his lips along your jaw. You slowly rose up from your knees with his guidance. His hands firmly on your sides with no signs or intentions of letting you go just yet. His lowered eyes focused on you as you helped him out of his black tank top, throwing it off over the jacket he laid out neatly on your couch.

You took his hand straight to your bedroom door. Opening it, your tuxedo cat jumped out before making its way to the zip line for the kitchen where her bowl of water and food was waiting. You turned to Seonghwa who looked back at you, delightfully surprised.

“So you do have a cat.”

“I was lying about her being a fan of people though,” You shrugged. “Come on.”

He smiled as he looked down at you, his gaze locked on yours with a mix of curiosity and anticipation and as you both reached the edge of the bed, you gently pushed him down onto the mattress.

His lips pressing together nervously as his eyes drank the sight of you stripping down.

“Have you ever done anything like this?”

“Yeah… just not… it’s been a while…” Seonghwa was blabbering.

He was in the middle of an internal battle, wondering if this was a mistake. You were just nodding along to his words, finally slipping out your skirt before straddling him, hooking your arms behind his head to continue kissing those lips of his.

Seonghwa was without a doubt a kisser. He knew exactly how to do just how you like it, how to hold you and move his tongue – the way he moved with yours with practiced precision sent shivers down your spine.

It was no wonder you were already getting soaked between your legs, and he wasn’t even naked… but he was hard, and from how he was rubbing it up against you, you could tell he was more than eager.

His kisses felt tender yet intentional, and it was driving you insane. He was holding down the sides of your throat to kiss your neck and collarbones.

“Fuck, Seonghwa please—“ You reached down to the bulge clearly wanting to be freed, looking up at him when he had you pressed against the mattress on your back.

It felt good to be wanted and to be desired. He wasn’t lying when he said it had been a while, especially with someone like you, who carried yourself with such certainty.

“Shhh… let’s take our time.”

His hands found their way onto the mounds beneath the lace of your bra which he had pushed above your breasts teasing your left nipple with fingertips he had wet with his tongue. Your knees pressed together, as he showered the other one with feathery kisses.

He took your hand from behind his head, intertwining it with his fingers before planting it right above your head. When his skilled tongue found its way against yours again, you had to let out a deep moan in his mouth — especially with his fingers teasing your slick folds through your panties.

“Oh my god…” You rubbed up his arm in encouragement.

“Where do you want me, beautiful?”

You swear you could’ve melted from how gentle his voice was and how his eyes were glossing at you.

“Anywhere.” You unhooked your own bra out of sheer impatience, getting chills from how he smiled at your shamelessness. “Everywhere.”

“Let’s start… here.” His hands dipped in between your legs.

Seonghwa's hands moved with a confident grace, exploring every inch of your core with a precision that spoke of practiced skill. His thumb traced gentle circles over your clit, eliciting a soft grunt from you as the sensation washed over you. Your core tightened in response to his focused attention, and your hips began to move involuntarily, grinding against his fingers.

You were lost in a fit of absolute pleasure and enjoyment, your body arching off the bed as Seonghwa's fingers delved deeper into you. In a moment of pure instinct, you grabbed his chin, pulling him closer. His mouth was open, and before you could think twice, he sucked your fingers into his mouth, his lips and tongue working over them with a hunger that mirrored your own.

You noticed the glint in his eyes as he watched you, his gaze flickering between the action and your reactions with a possessiveness that lit up his eyes. "Are you just going to watch?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

Your fingertips brushed his smile, his lips brushing against yours as he leaned down. "But I like watching you," he murmured, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His fingers continued their tormenting, curling and twisting inside you in a way that had you squirming beneath him. He could feel your wetness coating his fingers, and it only spurred him on further.

"I n-need a little more," you whispered, but your words were swallowed by the intensity of another finger joining the first, and everything around you seemed to fade away.

Seonghwa groaned, quickly undoing his button and fly with one hand, while the other ensured your legs remained parted. Before you could compose yourself, he dropped his head and began lapping at your clit as if he were starving. At first, it was just his tongue and lips, but when you felt his fingers curl back in, you let out a loud moan of pure pleasure. You didn't even notice his growls of approval as he continued the motion, flicking his tongue faster and faster, as if you might run away at any moment.

The sight and feeling of having such a beautiful face devouring you distracted you from how he was advancing towards you, appearing in front of your face just to dip down and kiss your chest. Distracting you, he was getting ready to take out his hard-on, pumping it in his hands, coating it with your own slick.

“Do you have uh…” He started to ask, but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about that, just… now… p-please,” you urged, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled a little at you, leaning down to hold you with one arm snaked around your waist and the other hooked under your knee as he laid you both on your side. Holding onto him by his broad shoulders, you braced yourself for what was to come.

“Ah, fuck..”

He took your lips between his as he finally had you around him. The way he teased your bottom lip with his teeth, the way his tongue had explored every crevice of your mouth — it reminded you just how much you personally missed the feeling of being this intimate with someone.

Seonghwa groaned into another kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he rolled his hips, grinding his slightly curved cock deeper into your stretched folds.

"Mmm,” he murmured against your lips, nipping at them playfully before trailing his mouth down your neck. "Is this what you wanted?”

You bit back a grin, nodding aggressively as you continued to moan out all while his shaft slipped in and out at a steady pace with your hands clutched onto the back of his neck.

He caught a pert nipple between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. “You smell incredible, I’ve wanted to tell you that all night.”

You scrunched your nose, “I smell like the club.” Cigarettes and liquor.

To emphasize his point, he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply before placing an open-mouthed kiss there. “I mean your skin, babe. Fuck me…” He suckled lightly, intent on leaving a subtle mark.

"How does that feel?" He asked in a low, seductive rasp as he continued his sensual stroke a little quicker.

Your breathy silent approval ignited something primal in him.

“Yeah? Faster?” He complied, increasing the pace of his thrusts. The new rhythm had him driving into you harder, deeper, the thick ridge of his cockhead kissing your cervix with each powerful snap of his hips.

It was wild how he seemed to anticipate your every move before you could even react or give him instructions. The fluidity of his actions felt almost surreal, which sounds absurd when you consider how quickly everything unfolded. You had just met this stunning stranger, with hair flopping over his eyes – you were building brick flowers merely moments ago and now here you were focused on a different set of bricks.

One large hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as the other tangled in your hair, resting his forehead against yours intimately as he pounded into you. His lips brushed yours in fleeting, feverish kisses between ragged breaths.

"Yes, just like that," you grunted, feeling the sweat on his brow against your forehead. “Whatever you want, just take i-it.”

You felt Seonghwa's hands curve around your skin, to press down on your stomach. As his fingers dug in, it was as if they were anchoring you to the moment, making it impossible to escape from under him. Not that you even planned to.

He rocks into you with an increased urgency, driven by the overwhelming desire of how your body is responding instinctively. His eyes locked on yours, a mix of possessiveness and adoration that made your heart race. The way his muscles flexed with each thrust, sweat glistening on his skin, and his lips parting in a shameless moan.

"I-I’m…i’m almost there," He rasped, while his hot breath fanned over your skin.

Just as you're teetering on the brink, he slams into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt. With a guttural roar, he stills, his cock twitching as he fills you.

When the pulses gradually slowed, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer intensity of you both unravelling at the same time. His lips sought yours in a tender, lingering kiss, pouring all your affection into the simple gesture.

"Oh my god…" he breathed, still reeling as he brushed a strand of sweaty hair from your forehead, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of your cheekbone.

“God…” You chuckled, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “I needed that so badly.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement with an eyebrow raised as your bluntness, “Glad I could’ve helped–”

You placed a finger to his lips, silencing him momentarily before you flipped him over to straddle his chest. Your eyes sparkled with mischief despite the exhaustion etched on your face. He knew exactly what you were thinking, and the sight of you climbing atop sent a thrill through his veins. His semi-hard cock twitched in anticipation as he idly watched you position yourself and slowly shift downwards, making sure to plant butterfly kisses all over his lower abdomen as you made your way down his happy trail.

You looked at him with a playful smile, your eyes glinting with excitement that you were going to taste yourself off him. Then you leaned in, capturing his cock in a deep mouth. Your tongue danced with the tip, exploring every inch of it as you savoured the taste of yourself and him. He groaned softly, his head falling back against the pillow as your warm, wet mouth enveloped his cock.

You took your time, lavishing attention on every inch, your tongue swirling and dancing along the sensitive underside. The sensation of tasting yourselves together was intensely arousing. He threaded his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each pass.

"Mmm, shit, that feels incredible," he praised, his voice thick with pleasure. "You look so good with me around your mouth."

You hummed in agreement, the vibration sending shivers up his spine. You picked up speed, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked harder, your saliva coating his shaft.

"Don't stop," he gasped, his fingers threading through your hair, guiding your movements. You could feel the tension building in his body, the muscles in his legs and arms tensing as he neared his climax again.

With a final, powerful thrust of your throat, he let out a guttural roar, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he released once more. You swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of him, and then pulled back, licking your lips clean. You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with satisfaction and a hint of mischief. He was breathless, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

"You're something else.” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and admiration as he watched you clean after yourself so well.

You smiled, leaning into his parted lips.

The whole thing was deliciously reckless… Yet, easy. It started off as one of those nights where the music was too loud, the drinks too strong, and yet somehow it led you here – it led him here. Seonghwa didn’t plan on meeting anyone, let alone ending up tangled in someone’s sheets, laughing at your terrible jokes between kisses that felt way too good to stop for the rest of the night.

By the time the sun started creeping through the blinds, you were both wrecked in the best way. Not just tired, but happy-tired. Wrapped up in each other like it was the most natural thing in the world — just easy conversation, lazy kisses, and that warm, quiet buzz of maybe-this-could-actually-be-something.

“So, what do you think about dinner? My place this Saturday?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Isn’t it Saturday already?” he replied with a chuckle.

“Then I guess you’ll have to stay.” You muttered with a cheek pressed against his chest.

He let out a small laugh, pulling you closer. You drifted asleep first, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back as his chin pressed lightly down the top of your head. He wasn’t tired yet, but he had a few things on his mind until his phone started going off in the other room.

He carefully untangles himself from you. His movements were quiet, practiced. He slipped his boxers on and cracked the door open to quietly head over to shut that stupid thing off.

It had to be one of the guys. That’s what he told himself. It had to be them asking if he got your number, if last night was good, if he was even still alive after stumbling out of there with you.

That’s why it came as a shock when he finally registered what he was reading on his phone.

DO NOT ANSWER Missed call (2)

DO NOT ANSWER I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to but Donghyuck said he saw you and your boys last night and… that you left that trash place with someone?

Did not know you were that kind of person…

Can we talk? I need to see you. I’m at your dorm.

It didn’t matter if it was inappropriate, offensive, or downright insane to come back after all the mental acrobatics Seonghwa was put through because his body was already moving, back to your room to quietly pull on the rest of his clothes. Every few seconds, he glanced back at you, at the way your hair fanned across the pillow, at the warmth still lingering in the sheets. With a quiet sigh, he grabbed a sticky note from your desk.

Seonghwa wasn’t sure what felt worse: leaving you, or running back to the person who only came back when he was one foot out the door, just to prove how wrapped around the finger he was. He didn’t know how to feel about any of it — but knew that he had to go. Because even if this could’ve been the start of something real, something he might’ve actually needed… he thought he needed to be there, chasing the comfort of old chains that he knew all too well.

By the time you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the emptiness beside you. The second was the way your lips still tingled from the night before, still smiling as it remembered what he tasted like and how he treated you, recalling everywhere his lips grazed, even though he had already left. He had been for a while, he could’ve woken you. He also could’ve taken the Lego orchid with him. The day was almost already gone by now, but a part of you was looking forward to seeing him again later.

It wasn’t until you reached for a glass of water that you noticed the note, neatly pressed under a fridge magnet in the kitchen that the hopeful smile you carried around your apartment dropped instantly.

"Thanks for last night. I don’t think I can stick around for that dinner. I’m sorry."

The words weren’t sloppy or rushed. He had taken his time. Like he meant it. Like that had made it better.

[bambiihee]

SPRING BREAKERS༚ ── y.jw

on the pier, by the lake, jungwon wants to make this spring break one you’ll never forget.

▸ PAIRING༚ 양정원 x fem!reader ▸ WC༚ 0. 6 k ▸ GENRE༚ straight filthy smut, pwp ▸ WARNINGS༚ NSFW, MDNI! public sex, exhibitionism, slight dubcon (jungwon tells her to make him stop and she doesnt), dirty talk, dom!jungwon, vaginal fingering, teasing, breast play

[ note༚ ] part one of fifteen for my 500 followers event! doing the prompts out of order >_<

When Jungwon had told you that his friends had planned an afternoon trip to the lake, a week into spring break when the weather was the warmest, you had begged to go with him. You hadn’t spent a day at the lakeshore since you were young, and all of his friend’s girlfriends were coming, so it was only fair if you got to tag along as well.

But now, sat in Jungwon’s lap on the pier, his hands growing bolder and bolder as he slips his fingers underneath your bikini strings, you wish you had stayed behind.

All of his friends are out in the water, too caught up in each other to pay attention to the two of you perched on the rickety wooden dock— you watch them like a hawk, praying to whatever god will listen that none of them take a passing glance over their shoulder.

“Jungwon!” you hiss, though it sounds more like a whimper. “We can’t do this here!”

He just hums, tugging playfully at the straps to watch them snap back against your skin. The tie threatens to give way with every teasing motion, your bikini top falling open and your breasts spilling out for everyone to see. The thought horrifies you, and so does the feeling of something hot and heavy swirling in your gut.

“Do what?” Jungwon asks innocently, venturing down your chest to cup your tits. He gropes and kneads them, pushes them together just to pull them apart, twists at your hardening nipples through the fabric of your bikini. You slap a hand over your mouth to keep from moaning aloud, somehow feeling even more sensitive than usual, every touch sending sparks of desire through your core.

Jungwon’s touch is ravenous, rough and greedy and so fucking obvious as if you were back at home and not sitting in public. in broad daylight. with all of his friends around.

“That! We can’t, not here!” you try to wiggle out of his grip, but you only manage to rub up against the growing bulge in Jungwon’s swim trunks. He’s already half hard, you realize with a gasp— the fabric of your swimsuits are thin enough that you can feel very ridge and vein of him, slotted between your asscheeks and straining up against you needily. The soft grunt Jungwon lets out in your ear goes straight to your pussy, dripping slick and clenching around nothing in record time. “Won, please, they’ll see—“

“What if I want them to?” he purrs, his whispered confession shocking you into silence. Slowly, his hand leaves your breast to trail down your belly, fingertips like fire as they caress your skin. The tip of his middle finger comes in contact with your clit, the littlest ghost of a touch that makes you jolt and mewl. Your reaction makes him chuckle, and he slides his fingers farther, traces the outline of your slit through your bottoms. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me. You sure you don’t want it too, baby? I could make you feel so good, just slide your bikini bottoms to the side and make you cum on my fingers— make you cum so hard you don’t care if anyone notices.”

“Wonnie…” you warble weakly, your defenses cracking as Jungwon starts to peel your soaked bottoms from where they’ve stuck themselves to your core.

“Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop and I will.” Two long, bony fingers prod at your weeping entrance, the bump Jungwon’s hand makes in the flimsy fabric obscene. You hiccup and roll your hips, unable to stop yourself from seeking his touch.

You don’t tell him to stop. You can’t even form words.

[parfaitblogs]

risk ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you have the sweetest regular, and it’s probably too soon to tell him you love him!

pairing: spencer reid x barista!reader genre: fluff tags: s1 spencer. who rambles. biblically accurate career!reader sorry if some of the coffee talk makes no sense to you. reader makes all the first moves. y'all kiss (aww). written in timeskip sorta it's not crazy (like maybe a month). not proofread sorryyy (im not). word count: 2.2k a/n: first instalment of my spencer reid eras tour🙂‍↕️ season 1 spencer reid i freaking adore you. he's so cute. gif!! i thought gifs in this series could be cute lol. envisioned 1x10 spencer bc of his nightmares if that means anything. enjoyyy ily im off to work 🏃 

There are many reasons you come to work each morning. The money (an obvious one), your coworkers who usually make each day a little bit more bearable. And Spencer. A regular who had become a little notorious for having an odd coffee order, that most of the store workers hated making. 

Except for you. 

It wasn't especially odd. But in a store that thrived on making the perfect cup of coffee, sometimes it meant remaking it three or four times because the shots didn't pour at the right amount of time, and recalibrating the machine was a hassle you all didn't want to deal with in the middle of the morning rush he usually came during. 

You had taken note of him the first few times he came in — always keeping to himself, flashing the most awkward smile you think you've ever seen on a human being, and ordering his old order (a large latte with as much sugar as you could fit in the cup). It was by the seventh time that had you thinking of him a little more often than just while you were at work. 

He looked a lot more exhausted than usual. His usually tame hair now loose and hanging over his face as he took a weary step towards the counter, fingers brushing strands away and tucking them behind his ears. 

"The latte, right?" you had asked him, and he had frozen, and you stood in fear of this not being the Spencer you thought he was, and you had just asked a total stranger about a coffee they've never ordered. 

But then he let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "Uh, no. Not today. Um—do you guys have a limit on how much coffee I can have?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "No... we don't. I wouldn't recommend any more than like five shots in our largest size, though. It'd probably taste gross. But we can add as much as you need."

"Five's good. Yeah," he nodded his head, fingers wrapped tightly around the leather strap of his messenger bag. 

"Just... a five shot latte?" you clarified, and he froze again, shaking his head once more. 

"Do you recommend anything else? I—uh, I want it to be sweet enough still."

"I can do you a mocha?" you offered. "White chocolate mocha if you're looking for it to be even sweeter."

"I'll try that," he nodded his head, and out came his awkward smile, which had you smiling back just as awkwardly. 

Which was how he got to his current usual. It honestly became a test to ensure your coffee machines were actually running well, considering pulling five well-done espresso shots at once was no easy feat. And, again, most of your coworkers hated making his drink. 

Which was why it was palmed off to you. Every single morning without fail. And maybe in another universe you would join them in the hatred for this man's frustrating drink order. But then, in that universe, you wouldn't get to talk to him every morning (and slowly break him out of whatever shell he had locked himself up in). 

"I never asked," you began, staring at him over the top of the coffee machine while putting white chocolate fudge into the bottom of the cup. "Why did you change your order randomly?"

He parted his lips and his eyebrows creased together for a few seconds, as if he was deciding whether or not to tell you. You were kind of grateful he concluded on trusting you. 

"I wasn't really sleeping. When I asked about changing my order," he explained, hands letting go of the bag strap so he could talk with them. "Then I guess I just liked the taste of it? And it kept me awake. Which is a bonus."

"I can imagine it would," you nodded your head in agreement, flashing him a small smile, which he returned, bashfully. "Why weren't you sleeping?"

He went silent, and you almost cursed yourself for asking. Maybe you had gone too far. It was why, when you had begun to busy yourself with making his drink a little faster, you jumped when he spoke up again.

"I was getting these nightmares," he said, and your head lifted from the milk you were steaming. "Because of what I do for work."

"Law, right?" you asked, and he let out a small laugh, tucking hair behind his ear. 

"Sort of. I'm with the FBI."

"Oh, that's right," you replied, nodding your head in recognition. He had said that to you at some point in the earlier days when he first started coming in, because you had asked where he works so close by to be coming in as often as he did. "Can you tell me what part? Or is that confidential?"

"No, no, I can. I'm with the Behavioural Analysis Unit," when your face twisted into confusion, he added, "We use psychology to analyse serial killers and catch them. Well, not just serial killers, actually. But that's what we focus on."

"And it works?" you asked, eyebrows rising as you placed a lid atop his coffee, sliding it out on the pick-up section where he was standing by. His face fell slightly, and so you were quick to add, "Not—I didn't mean it like that. I just mean I'm shocked. That psychology is all you really need to catch a serial killer."

"It's not all we need. There's a lot of other elements that go into finding one. But our primary focus is how their brain works and we use behavioural science to figure that out. Actually, we used to be called the Behavioural Science Unit when it was first created."

He was too busy talking animatedly with his hands for him to have picked up his coffee, and you were too busy watching him with a smile to remind him it was ready. 

When he did reach for it, you could feel the familiar pang of disappointment that had started shooting through you every time he was picking up his coffee and leaving. A weird sensation that left you clawing at the walls of your brain to come up with something to say to keep him there. 

It was probably why you blurted out, "Are you seeing anyone?" Which was followed by stunned silence from him, and regretful silence from yourself. What a question. 

Slowly, he began to shake his head, his lips twitching into a confused frown. "No. I'm—I'm not." 

It shocked you a little. He wasn't jaw dropping, per se. But he was attractive. You had said it a few times to your coworkers whenever they asked why you talked to him so much — there was a running joke that you were already secretly dating him behind their backs. Not funny.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to..." you hesitated. "Go out for dinner? Maybe? I'm so sorry if I'm totally overstepping. In fact, I encourage you to say no, because this is a little weird. I'm so sorry," you rambled when you were met with only silence from him, wondering if you had weirded him out of the ability to talk. 

"With me?" he pushed out, his voice a little higher pitched than usual, and you nodded your head, because maybe he wasn't weirded out. Maybe you had just flustered him. You hoped so, at least.

"Yeah," you said. "Is that weird? Or is it okay? To ask that?"

"It's okay. Yeah. Yes. I would love—like to. I mean, that would be nice. Yeah," he stammered, and you smiled. 

"Here," you held your hand out and gestured for his coffee, taking it back and picking up a Sharpie to write your number atop the lid, before you slid it back to him. "I get off work at one. Call me?"

"I will," he nodded, eyes fixated on the number for a few seconds more, before he returned his eyes to you. "I will. Um—bye!" he took a step back, and you let out a loud laugh when he stumbled into a chair behind him. 

He was sheepish as he waved to you, bidding you another goodbye, the sound of the bell above the door ringing once, and then again when it fell shut. 

And you had, somehow, secured a date with Spencer.

Which turned into two dates. Then three. And then, with some weird stroke of luck and twist of fate, you were spending every evening you could at his apartment, and him at yours. 

But you were yet to kiss. 

Not by any particular reason. Really, nothing either of you did ever really called for a kiss. Which was as frustrating as it was understandable. Frustrating, because you felt like you were simply friends, who sometimes went out for dinner, and had feelings for each other. But he had told you very early on he'd never been with anyone before, let alone ever been on a date. Hence; understandable. 

But frustration was more overwhelming than you had thought, because you were on his couch, blanket draped over both of your bodies, as he read you a book — The Chameleon. A short story by Anton Chekhov (an author whom you were only barely familiar with). And yet, all you could think about was kissing him. 

In your defence, he was very kissable, as you stared at his lips while he spoke, your heart stuttering quite uncomfortably in your chest. You weren't sure what it was precisely about him that made him like that. Maybe it was the natural pout of his lips, or how they twitched in humour at the little jokes Chekhov had written into the book that only made sense in Russian, despite him attempting to translate it for you. 

Whatever it was, it was overriding your senses, and in true Spencer fashion, he hadn't noticed you weren't intently listening to his reading until he glanced down to catch a reaction to something he said. You caught as he closed the book and placed it off to the side, jostling you from your haze. 

"You don't like the book, do you?" he asked, and you were quick to shake your head. 

"No, I do," which was true. The parts you were actively listening to you enjoyed. "Sorry, I'm distracted."

"By what?" he shifted on the couch to face you.

You fell silent at that, the answer hanging on the tip of your tongue, unsure whether or not saying it could ruin things. You didn't think it would. "You."

"I'm distracting?" he asked, eyebrows creasing together and a confused frown pulling his lips down. 

Which confused you. "Yes?"

"I don't think I'm meant to be sorry for that," he said. "But I am."

"You shouldn't be," you breathed out with a small laugh. 

"Right," he nodded his head, laughing too, awkwardly. "How am I distracting?"

You studied his face for a few moments, which ended up being a pathetic excuse for a lip study, because you were fixated on them again, and you decided Spencer probably didn't even realise that that was what you were doing. 

"We haven't kissed yet," you told him, instead. 

"No. We haven't," he agreed. 

"Do you just not want to kiss me?" you asked.

He did that thing he does when he's thinking — furrowed eyebrows and parted lips, eyes blinking a few times, before he comes up with his response. 

"I just don't want you to be disappointed. I've never kissed anyone before."

"I concluded that," you answered. "I won't be disappointed."

"You might be," he mumbled, and his gaze averted from your own, which had another smile stretching across your lips. 

"Only one way to find out, right?"

He hesitated before nodding his head, lifting his eyes back up to look at you. It was then that you learned that, like everything else, you might have to make the first move on him. Again.

The thought made you laugh, and though he wanted to, he didn't get a chance to question why you were laughing, because your hands were on his face and you were pulling him into you, lips meeting his in a gentle kiss that elicited a surprised squeak from him. 

"You've gotta kiss me back," you murmured against his lips, and his response was a quiet 'oh'. 

But he was a fast learner, because soon after he was. Objectively, it wasn't the best kiss you've ever had in your life. But it got better by the second, and he was doing enough to make your heart stutter in your chest, his hands reaching up to cup your own face, palms and fingers covering the mass of your cheeks. 

His hands there provided him the ability to keep you there, and you had to pry them off your face so you were able to pull back for air, breaths coming out in short pants. Only for a short second, because he was chasing your lips again, and you laughed, before letting him kiss you again. And again. And again. 

Until both of you were out of air, and he was glassy-eyed and pink-lipped. Though, you were probably his mirror image of that.

And he smiled at you, crookedly. And you wondered if it was too soon to say you loved him. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[venusbyline]

Rhaenyra Targaryen — Dear Half-sister

— summary: Being in an affair with a Targaryen bastard was not a surprise either, even if her firstborn Jacaerys thought otherwise. What bothered the Queen was knowing that she was fucking with her own sister. Half-sister, if the first word could ease the weight of that entire complexity.

— pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x dragonseed!reader

— type: smut, dark

— word count: 2.1k

— tags/warnings: Femslash February, female!reader, dark!Rhaenyra, Targaryen bastard!reader, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, rape/non-con, Targcest (older sister/younger sister), dubcon, oral (female receiving), dry humping, body worship, pussy worship, degradation, rough sex, rough oral, age gap (older woman/younger woman), Rhaenyra is 37 and Reader is 23, implied cheating, infidelity, punishment, toxic relationship, ambiguous/open ending, face-slapping, violence, crying, dacryphilia, cum licking, curse words, brothel worker mentioned, minor Rhaenyra Targaryen/Daemon Targaryen, bisexual!Rhaenyra, bisexual(?)!reader, dom!Rhaenyra, sub!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes: Welcome to the first Friday of Femslash February ❤️❤️ I hope you like it!

❥ about me • Rhaenyra masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

— crossposting: AO3

Rhaenyra did not know what was happening with her mind when she forced you, a dragonseed, to warm her bedsheets more often than her own husband had done before Visenya's pregnancy.

Not that she was someone known for purity and chaste routine. The Queen was the exact opposite of that, she had always been way ahead of her time when it came to sex. The night Daemon took her to see a brothel, he told her that there was nothing wrong with wanting or feeling pleasure. Even though it was something said many years ago, when she was nothing more than a spoiled princess and desperate for a little bit of adventure, Rhaenyra kept her uncle's words like a mantra.

There was nothing wrong with wishing pleasure. There was nothing wrong with feeling pleasure.

But Rhaenyra knew what was happening between the two of you was wrong. Cheating on Daemon was the least worst of the problems, considering he had not sent any news during all that time at Harrenhal. Being in an affair with a Targaryen bastard was not a surprise either, even if her firstborn Jacaerys thought otherwise.

What bothered the Queen was knowing that she was fucking with her own sister.

Half-sister, if the first word could ease the weight of that entire complexity.

This whole weird affair started due to Rhaenyra's past anger. She accepted very well all the Targaryen bastards as her allies. She questioned their stories, wanting to know more about their lives so she could try to trust them better.

She had gotten close to some of them too.

However, there was you. The girl who made her roll her eyes every time your gazes met.

It was no surprise when she called you to the room where the Small Council meetings were held. The Queen pestered you more than her other allies, always demanding too much and always cursing your smallest mistakes...

"Did you order my presence here, Your Grace?" Your voice echoed between the big walls, hands behind your back after being brought there by one of the royal guards.

Rhaenyra lifted her head to look at you. She was sitting in her chair, fingers crossed and elbows resting on the table, as if she was not only analyzing you from top to bottom, but was also pondering the future talk before your arrival.

The knight left as soon as she gestured and told him to leave her alone with you. You raised an eyebrow at the sound of the doors closing. No face-to-face lecture by the Queen had been given without any guards nearby, but you knew that their only concerns were for the Rhaenyra's safety anyway.

"Hello, dear half-sister." The sneer from her rosy lips winced your body and skin. "Sit down, please." She pointed to the next chair.

Without another choice, you nodded silently and walked over to Rhaenyra. The nickname said in such a mocking tone made your stomach twist, a mix of worry and disgust.

As soon as you sat down next to her, the Queen's gaze went from your face to your body, noticing your specific clothes. "Were you flying with Vermithor?" After the confirmation, Rhaenyra remained silent for a while. "I see. It is good to create some kind of bond with our dragons, it will be very useful during the war."

"I suppose so."

Silence hung between the two of you for a few more moments. Those minutes felt like an eternity. You chose to keep your sight focused on random parts of the table, and it was empty of anything that could explain why the Queen had demanded a private conversation. "Did I do something wrong?"

You finally allowed yourself to ask, and Rhaenyra's violet eyes widened with slight surprise. Clearing her throat then, she shook her head. "No, you did not." She mumbled with no enthusiasm, looking down at her own hands, a hint of embarrassment blushing her pale cheeks. "Not this time."

You sighed frustrated due to the lack of explanation, somewhat rebellious act before the ruler — and your half-sister. "So what do you want to talk about?"

Rhaenyra did not seem to pay attention to your discreet impatience, or at least she did not seem to care about that. She just took a deep breath, drumming her fingers on the huge wooden furniture, thinking about how approaching the topic she wanted to discuss. Finally her voice came out hoarse and serious. "You know I do not appreciate your existence very much."

Ignoring the pang inside your heart at the too honest way she expressed her disgust, you just hummed, which caused Rhaenyra to deep breath again. "I am not trying to humiliate you." Despite the calm voice, she shook her leg uneasily, waiting for you to argue. When it did not come, she snorted. "Well, I do not appreciate your existence, but I need your help to—"

"Why?"

The unsolicited question caught her off guard. "What do you mean?" She replied with a frown, but already predicting what you wanted to know.

"Why do you hate me, Your Grace?" You repeated, finally surrendering to the thoughts that plagued your mind. "I have never done anything bad to you, I am doing well with my duties in your army and—"

Rhaenyra's hand went straight to your chin, grabbing it without any warning and forcing you to face her, despite your racing heart telling you to try back away. "And what did you expect? That I would be happy to have another sibling? Four of them are trying to kill me, I do not need one more for the list."

As much as her nails were digging into your skin with rage, there was a vulnerability behind that whole reaction, something she should not be showing around you or anyone else.

"Turning me against Your Grace does not make any sense..." The pain in your voice was clear.

Rhaenyra let out a mocking laugh. "I do not trust you. I met you just a few weeks ago, I did not even know about your existence before you appeared here along with the other dragonseeds."

"You do not trust me because you still do not know me, or because you really do not want to trust me?" You scoffed for the first time, making Rhaenyra's jaw clenched. "My apologies for my tone, My Queen, but both of us know the real reasons why you do not like me. It is because King Viserys fucked my mother and—"

Before you could finish your sudden outburst, Rhaenyra had already tangled her hands in your silver hair, the sounds of the two chairs falling when she stood up and lifted you with her. Your scalp ached, the growled sentences she said next becoming nothing more than annoying ringing in your ears after the rough slap she gave you in the face, echoing in your eardrum like an agony.

The confusion inside your mind was immediately interrupted when Rhaenyra forced you to kneel on the floor. Your bones hitting the floor did not disturb the queen. Actually, she enjoyed your fear and how your eyes blinked through the pain, trying to understand what was happening. She kept one hand in your strands, while the other began to undo the ties on her black and red dress.

It was not a quick process, she only had one hand to get rid of the clothes. However, she was already wearing just her corset over the linen chemise when you were able to see properly. "For the Gods' sake, what are you—"

Rhaenyra pushed your head closer to the fabric of the chemise, muffling your voice and scaring you due to the abrupt action and due to what you felt afterwards. The cloth was so thin that you felt your nose touching her clit, the sweet smell that you could not identify until the Queen's deep voice ordered another thing. "Lift my dress and eat me out."

"W-What?"

Rhaenyra snorted at your stupid doubt. She could not understand how you did not know what she was wanting. You were kneeling on the floor, with your face slapped, her fingers buried in your head and with her swollen pearl so close to your face. "I said... Eat me out. Right now."

You did not have any chance to open your mouth to argue or refuse the tempting yet macabre offer. Rhaenyra was already rubbing her needy cunt against your face, the fabric of her underwear helping to get wet each time she moved faster and harder. Your hands wanted to grab her thigh tightly to get her away, to get yourself away from that confusing position that you did not even have time to process.

At one point, you were arguing with the half-sister who hated you. At one point, you could see her fury when you considered speaking badly about her father — the father of both of you.

And now, a few minutes later, you were on your knees like a dog, the reddish mark from her violence on your skin, as well as the marks from the nails that bruised your cheeks. You were not moving a single muscle, barely able to think about something coherent while Rhaenyra turned your brain into jelly, the stain on the white linen causing a musky smell every time Rhaenyra moved her hips back and forth, dry humping with the help of the tip of your nose.

You did not even have to do anything for a while. Rhaenyra soon growled, keeping her fist firm in the silver strands of your hair, using her free fingers to lift her own chemise.

"Have you ever seen one of these or are all your clients men?" The older woman scoffed, cruelty towards your former work explicit in the words.

You had seen many different bodies over the years as a prostitute, including female bodies. However, none of them compared to Rhaenyra's body. Even though you could not see so much due to the clothing covering her waist upwards, you could admire some specific parts. The lower part of her stomach was not plain, it was smooth but also flabby, white streaks marking across her milky skin, indicating how her body adapted to six different pregnancies. As were her thighs, which were quite thick and also with stretch marks that highlighted the mature beauty.

And her cunt was the prettiest one. A true Realm's Delight. It was kinda plump and fleshy, covered with a layer of blonde wavy hair, rosy inner lips escaping a little from her outer lips. You were tempted to stick your tongue out and lick up the sweet drops, but you composed yourself.

Rhaenyra knew you would never deny her desires again, and both of you knew you needed each other. You needed Rhaenyra's acceptance and she needed you as an ally. Perhaps even something more, like a paramour.

She hated understanding where your stubborn personality came from. At the same time, you seemed so loyal to her right to the Iron Throne. You were her half-sister. You are a Targaryen, but not just any Targaryen.

Every time Rhaenyra looked at you, she was tormented by the fact that you were so much younger than her. Only one year older than her enemy, her half-brother. The Usurper. She was fourteen years older than you, the girl she was now practically forcing to lick every drop of her, your tongue paying special attention to the swollen and sensitive bud, the loud moans echoing off the walls, wet noises of her cunt being graced by a dragonseed's tongue too.

At that moment, Rhaenyra Targaryen no longer cared if you were a whore before all of that. She no longer cared if her father had spent his mourning time in brothels, fucking some cheap woman who had mothered an unknown child. At that moment, Rhaenyra did not care if your existence angered her often, if Daemon would be jealous about the cheating, if Jacaerys would find it disgusting if he found out. She did not remember why she demanded your presence there.

All that mattered to Rhaenyra was cumming into your soft mouth, holding your head between her legs until she was rubbing herself against your face to prolong the eager release.

"Not bad, little sister..." Rhaenyra cleared her throat, her voice breathless, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. She watched you kneel on the floor, your pretty face blushed and glowing with her cum.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Your trembling voice and the embarrassed tears in the corners of your eyes made Rhaenyra enjoy it more. All that mattered to her from that moment on was keeping the affair for as long as she wanted, even if it was humiliating for you or even if you did not want that.

After all, you were just a Targaryen bastard who was never legitimized. It was impossible to disobey the orders and wishes of the rightful Queen.

[venomvalley]

TYING KNOTS

bottom!sevika x fem!reader | 2k words

SUMMARY: Sevika lets you top her. That's the fic.

TAGS: 18+! sub sevika, restraints, strap-on sex, oral, fingering, overstim, porn with feelings, bratty sevika, very light choking

NOTES: cannot believe its taken me this long to write a sub sevika fic i should be ashamed of myself

“You sure about this?” you ask, sat naked on the bed beside an equally-bare Sevika, silken tie in hand, harness tight around your hips.

She squints up at you, head tilting atop the pillow. “Wasn’t this your suggestion?”

“It’s called consent, Sev.” You stretch the tie out, wrap it around your hand, stretch it out again as she stares up at you, fingers massaging over your thigh. “We’ve never done this before, and I know how big of a power freak you are.”

She smiles wide, front teeth—that adorable little gap—showing between her parted lips. “Nervous?”

“I’m terrified that you’ll break our bed. Paid good money for the headboard.”

You swing your leg over her hip and take a seat on her lower belly, the hair of her happy trail bristly against your pussy. She lounges back into the sheets, tucking her arm under her head.

You smooth your hands over her chest, tweaking at a pert nipple. “Alright, so—“

“If you make me repeat the rules one more time, I’m leaving.”

You lean down to give her a pouting kiss, tits squished against hers, fake cock trapped between your bellies as your hands rise to cup her face. “So grouchy.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Oh, I’m not allowed to kiss my beautiful woman?” She gives you a disapproving glare, lips curling into a frown (though you know that she secretly loves being referred to as yours). “Alright, fine. Give me your arm.”

She holds out her hand with a grin, and you tie her single arm to a notch in the headboard. Fit two fingers beneath the knot to ensure that it isn’t too tight. Her prosthetic lies abandoned on the kitchen table—she didn’t want to wear it, saw no point in putting it on when the idea of this whole ordeal revolves around vulnerability and submissiveness.

Your lips pepper a loving trail of kisses down her arm, fingers ghosting over the muscle of her bicep. “If you wanna stop, just—“

“Red. I got it.”

You lave your tongue over the pulse of her neck, teeth scraping against the skin. Bite your way up to the curve of her jaw, hard enough to hurt—just the way she likes, if the inviting tilt of her head means anything.

You work your way down her body, kisses languid and loving and wet, stopping long enough to suck on each nipple. She grunts, spreading her legs to fit your body until you're knelt before her, face level with the wiry curls on her mound. With both thumbs, you spread her open then lick a slow trail from clenching pussy to puffy clit.

Your head fogs up at the first taste of her, clean from the earlier shower you shared, musk mild on your tongue. Already wet after a little kissing, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't inflate your ego a bit. You moan against her, dipping your tongue into her cunt, and she parts her thighs with a shaky exhale. Cusses under her breath when the tie around her wrist refuses to budge from her fidgeting.

The first press of your fingers, the sharp suckle of your mouth around her clit leaves her back arching, hips tilting into your face. Begging for it. Under her breath, her orders for more, harder, faster sound like pleas. But you obey them regardless.

Your hand curls over the top of her thigh to keep her still when her legs begin to twitch. Her pussy tightens around the heavy thrusts of your fingers, all slick velvet heat.

She groans. “Fuck. That's it, honey—shit—”

Another rough suck of her clit sends her into her first orgasm of the night, and she rides it out with tensed-up muscles and a clenched jaw, breathing hard through her nose.

Too quiet. Something you intend to fix.

Sevika goes all-in with everything she does, and sex is no exception. She wants everything, all at once, as much as you can give her. Won’t accept any less. If you can still form words by the time she's done with you, then she didn't fuck you good enough.

Which is how you got this idea in the first place. Turnabout is fair play and all that.

She sags against the bed as the last of the aftershocks leave her, but you keep your mouth right where it is. A lighter touch against her clit, fingers slowing their speed to build her up to another. Her whole body freezes, thighs closing around your head, hips tilting up into your mouth.

You look up at her, fingers clenched into a fist around the silk tie, head thrown back to elongate the line of her neck. She heaves a gasp when you add a bit more pressure, fingers speeding up in their rhythm. Before too long, her thighs begin to quiver against your ears. And then she's coming on your face, gushing into your mouth.

And you start all over again.

She heaves out a sigh, headboard creaking as she twists her arm against the hold of the silk tie. “Honey—”

“Just one more, Sev. Please.”

It takes her a moment to respond, and you pull your mouth away to stop the fog of her brain. “Fuck, okay. One more—” She grits out a moan when you dive back in, unoccupied hand shoving her thigh to the side, opening her up for you.

She's never been this noisy before, never been this wet between the legs. The lower half of your face is soaked, the curls framing her pussy matted down flat, sticky and slick. You could stay here forever, could drown in her and die happy.

Once again, she flutters around your fingers with a pain-pleasure sigh, grinds her clit against your tongue to both chase and escape the sensation. And then it’s over, each orgasm shorter than the last, and you keep your end of the deal—no matter how much it pains you to pull away.

“You trying to kill me?” she huffs, gives a poor imitation of a glare as you rise to your knees and massage over her inner thighs. A sticky smear from your fingers catches beneath the light.

The fucked-out look on her face directly contradicts her supposed irritation, eyes lidded, mouth twitching at the corners, threatening a smile.

“Like you didn't almost drown me.”

She exhales a breath through her nose when you mouth over her tits, working your way up her chest to the sensitive pulse of her neck. “Whose fault is that?”

“Yours.”

She clicks her teeth, hair spilling over her jaw as she turns her cheek into the pillow. “Brat.”

With a final suck to the curve of her shoulder, you sit back on your haunches, hand curling around the base of your fake cock, thrumming with warmth, soft as the silk restraining her hand to the bed. You smack the tip against her clit and her thighs close on instinct, nerves still sensitive.

“Keep ‘em open, honey.” A swipe of your cock between the lips of her pussy, so slick and noisy your ears muffle with cotton, but she obeys, knees hooking over your hips.

You slide into her with a wet squelch, and she sighs, teeth catching on her bottom lip, head falling back against the pillow. You peer down to where your bodies meet, hips flush against the back of her thighs, and slowly pull out, moaning at the way she stretches around the toy—soaks it so thoroughly it glistens beneath warm lamplight. A hand rises to grab at her waist, stilling her as your free thumb circles over her clit. The tip of your cock catches inside her as she clenches hard around you, hand fighting the tie knotted around her wrist.

You understand now why she loves to fuck you. Seeing her all sweaty and submissive, tender at once-sharp edges might just be your undoing. It's intoxicating, addictive. You want to tear her apart, unravel her atom by atom.

She groans when you thrust your hips forward to bottom out inside her, the headboard creaking beneath the pull of her strength.

“I swear I'll kill you if you break that,” you whisper, leaning forward to suck a pebbled nipple between your lips, teeth a teasing pinch around the skin as she arches up into your mouth. You pull away with a wet pop, breath a hot exhale against her chest as you rock a steady rhythm into her. “Been needing this for a while, haven't you?”

Above you, she huffs out a shaky groan, hips fidgeting then rocking against yours. “Shut the fuck up.”

A smile stretches your lips as you sit back and begin to pull out, the slick noise of her cunt blurring your vision, frying your brain. “Fuck, so pretty like this—”

“Stop.” You almost can't believe your ears at the whine that comes out of her mouth, at the way her nose scrunches up and she hides her face against her arm.

She’s so fucking cute, so pretty all consumed by pleasure—embarrassed by it.

“What, honey?” you coo, leaning forward to press a messy kiss to her sternum, cock bottoming out with each thrust. “Feels too good, doesn't it?”

You back away to circle a hand over her throat, thumb pressing against her jaw to turn her head.

She looks up at you with galaxies in her eyes, like she's falling in love all over again. A reverent kind of beauty, so bright it almost rivals the burn of the sun. Sevika is much like that in many ways: all-consuming, a force of nature, a creature of habit.

You stop.

“What the fuck are you doing? Keep going.”

Her stubbornness to keep up the act while creaming around your cock is nothing short of admirable.

“I'm looking at you. Can I not look at you anymore?”

“No,” she says, deadpan, and you cough out a laugh, and a moment later, she laughs, too.

Your chest fills with warmth, like a patch of flowers has sprouted between the cage of your ribs. Love. Blooming and sweet. Has to be.

You lean forward to kiss her soft on the mouth, sweet and tender, hips grinding your cock into her. “Love you so much.”

“Don't start with the sappy shit.”

You pull away to pout at her, but still at the gleam in her eyes, soft and tender despite her mocking words. She won't say it, but she doesn't need to. Not when she looks at you like you're the only thing that matters.

“Don't be mean.”

She grins against your mouth, tugs your bottom lip between the blunt edge of her front teeth. Teasing, her way of saying I didn't mean that. Hard to read until you know what to look for, and then every action she takes likens to the pages of a dictionary. Color-coded and alphabetized.

"Untie me."

An order so desperate, gasped out, that you have no choice but to obey. You balance on an elbow and yank the end of the tie, and she pulls you close with a hand on the back of your neck. Licks into your mouth with a slow exhale through her nose. Keeps you still so she can kiss you breathless, and you almost forget that you're supposed to be fucking her, hips choppy in their rhythm.

"C'mon," she whispers, hand reaching down to squeeze at the curve of your ass. "You can do better than that."

"Not my fault you're so distracting."

A teasing quirk of her lips. "Excuses."

You give her a bruising kiss then lean back on your knees, shifting your weight to adjust the angle of your hips. She paws at one of your tits, sucks a breath through her teeth when your thrusts begin a slow, pounding rhythm, when you circle a thumb over her slick clit.

"Good?" you ask, a bit breathless, your other hand cupping the curve of her waist.

With squinted-shut eyes, she nods, hums low in her throat. Fully focused on the sensation of you fucking into her, hips slapping against the back of her thighs. Her hand grasps at your wrist, grip so hard the joint creaks, breath heavying inside her chest.

Each thrust inside her pussy accompanies a noisy resistance as she begins to pulse around you with the onset of orgasm. You quicken your thrusts to push her over the edge, and she reaches her peak with a panting moan, thighs tight around your waist.

She slaps you a few times on the ass, sighs out an, "Alright. I'm tapping out."

You groan. "Thank the gods. My thighs are killing me."

"Weak."

"Says the woman who does nothing but exercise all day."

You pull out of her with a wet schlick, hands immediately moving to undo the straps of the harness. You set it near the edge of the bed, reminding yourself to clean it once she's taken care of, and brush your hands over her toned belly.

"Need anything?"

She swallows, clears her throat. "A glass of water would be nice."

With a nod, you move to climb off the bed, but a hand around your arm stops you.

"By the way, love you, too. Shithead."

You smile at her, eyes crinkling at the corners, and she smiles back. A bit of mirth bleeding through all the sappiness.

Next on your list: a glass of water and a wet cloth to clean her up with. Maybe you can coax her into sharing a bath, letting you wash her hair. Maybe if you beg hard enough.

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Fanfic Thieves on Youtube

A collection of youtube channels have been uploading preexisting fanfictions in videos with little to no credit to the original authors. These are not podfics, these channels copy-paste the fics into text-to-speech readers then upload the unaltered audio over static or unrelated backgrounds, either art that is also stolen or mobile game footage. In addition to not naming the authors, they alter the title to make it that much harder for readers to recognize or find the original uploads. Some go so far as to pretend they themselves are creating the fics in question. Many claim that their stealing actually helps give fics "exposure" despite the intentional steps they take to conceal the origins of the fics they profit off of. However, this practice has lead many authors to discontinue fics after the frustration of having their hard work stolen. Many of these channels claim they will remove videos upon request, but will either argue with the author in order to keep it up, or simply unlist the video for a time until they think the author isn't paying attention anymore. And their solution to receiving strikes against their channels in the past has been to further obfuscate the origins of their content instead of even considering asking first.

”I got caught stealing, so instead of not stealing anymore, I’m doubling down on stealing even more so it’s harder for people to find out and prove I’m stealing. Stealing doesn't count if the specific person I stole from didn't call me out. I am the real victim.”

That, plus the incessant tag scumming in all the videos (spamming unrelated tags in order to appear in more search results) proves to me that these are lazy attention seekers who don't want to put in creative effort when they could just leech off of the passion of others.

In order to report them, go to their channel's "About" page and click the flag icon. Said icon might be behind the three dots in the top bar on mobile. Go to "Report User" at the bottom and tick the "spam and scams" button. This will allow you to list multiple videos as offenders instead of reporting them individually. Youtube's policy states that video spam constitutes:

Massively uploading content that you scraped from other creators.

Auto-generated content that computers post without regard for quality or viewer experience.

If you recognize one of your fics among the stolen, say so in the additional comments box, and perhaps call out the channel directly in the video's comments. If you recognize someone else's fic, please let the original author know so they can report the channel as well. Many have been confronted for stealing previously and refuse to admit wrongdoing.

Most of what I've found has been My Hero Academia fics since that's my fandom and those are the ones I can recognize as stolen, but there are many other channels that steal from other fandoms, so I invite anyone and everyone to reblog this with their own findings.

The reality is that this extremely low-effort content and new youtube channels are both very easy to make, so most likely they'll start new channels once the ones on this list are run through. But hopefully, if we all work together and keep whacking these moles, perhaps we can instill that same defeatism they caused so many creators who didn't deserve it, and eventually they'll give up.

My sincerest thanks to everyone who helped bring additional channels to my attention. A special thanks to ao3 user InArduisFidelis who brought the initial attention to the issue, and @owlf45 whose work was stolen.

Links under the cut.

YurikoFanfics - Not only stole content, but acted in comments as though they were the one writing these stories.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@YurikoFanfics

What-IF-Anime - Has the exact same "disclaimer" about not being the original author as the one above. Either they're the same person or the thieves are stealing from each other.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@What-IF-Anime

quirkywhatif7 - Either an alt of the above, or all these people are talking to one another because this one made a community post identical to a comment the one above made in response to being called out (the above screenshots).

https://www.youtube.com/@quirkywhatif7/about

DekuFanfic - It's the same fucking guy again.

https://www.youtube.com/@DekuFanfic/about

InfiniteParadoxfanfics - Nothing notable, same deal as the others.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@InfiniteParadoxfanfics/about

WhatIfAnimeChannel - Admits in their community posts that other people write the fics they post but still doesn't give credit. Migrated to a new channel after issues with youtube, likely being flagged previously.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeChannel/about

WhatIfAnimeAll - Alt of above.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeAll

FWNWorld - Makes sure to tell you that the videogame footage is theirs, but can't bother to credit anyone else.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@FWNWorld/about

WTFW - Claims to have "[A] team of talented writers, voice actors, and artists work together to create immersive fan fiction stories that are sure to captivate your imagination." Just the same test-to-speech stolen content over videogames. So straight up lying claiming that everything is theirs (and that anything they make is quality).

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WTFW

MHA2.0Fanfics - Lots of crossover theft.

https://www.youtube.com/@MHA2.0Fanfics/about

Collerwhatiif - Pretty sure this one is the same guy as the previous 2, also has one for another fandom.

https://www.youtube.com/@Collerwhatiif/about

https://www.youtube.com/@GoJoFanfiction/videos

ko_sensei - Another that claims to have a "team" that makes the stories they steal: " passionate about creating compelling and engaging fanfiction that explores the various "what ifs" in the anime universe."

https://www.youtube.com/@ko_sensei/about

FantasticWhatIf - Multifandom stealing, uses the exact same bs disclaimer as many others.

https://www.youtube.com/@FantasticWhatIf/about

LettuceHeadFanfics - No credit, no acknowledgement of anything. Next one is an alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@LettuceHeadFanfics/about

brocollifanfics - Alt of above, once again admits to stealing with a declaration of "☆If you want to takedown any videos. You can mail us or leave a comment below the video☆"

https://www.youtube.com/@brocollifanfics/about

whatifofficial786 - Focuses on MHA/Naruto crossovers. Identical format.

https://www.youtube.com/@whatifofficial786/about

NotWhatIf - I've lost track of who's an alt of who but yet another identical format, descriptions, and bullshit claims of "enhancing the viewer experience" by putting a robot voice over bootleg fortnite footage.

https://www.youtube.com/@NotWhatIf/about

weebxds - Same again.

https://www.youtube.com/@weebxds/about

ItachiFanfics - Naruto channel, we can at least confirm that this one is run by a human given the rare different descriptions and a real voice at the beginning of videos before the robot comes back.

https://www.youtube.com/@ItachiFanfics/about

WhatIfDN - As if mockingly, a bunch of videos have a "credit" section in their descriptions that is of course blank.

https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfDN/about

SpiceandBooks and spiceandfiction - Apparently Youtube itself has started picking up on the bullshit, because this multifandom channel is being dinged as ai spam so they started a new one.

https://www.youtube.com/@SpiceandBooks/about

https://www.youtube.com/@spiceandfiction/about

theoriginalastra - Doesn't even bother with disclaimers, the following are multiple alts/potential alts for different fandoms.

https://www.youtube.com/@theoriginalastra/about

SillySenpai12 - Highschool DXD alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@SillySenpai12/about

RosieRealms - Naruto alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@RosieRealms/about

DekuWhatIfs - Potentially another astra alt but not sure, doesn't matter because all these channels do the same thing anyway.

AnimeStark688 - No credits or disclaimers.

https://www.youtube.com/@AnimeStark688/about

Please take the time to report these channels, spread this post around, and reblog with any additional offending channels you find.

[blackleatherjacketz]

Never

Daredevil x Female Reader

Summary: Matt knows that Frank asked him to look after you while he's off the grid, but Matt's idea of looking after you is vastly different than Frank's.

Warnings: Explicit Smut, 18+ Only!, Infidelity (Sort of), Competition Kink, Kissing, Groping, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Finger Sucking, Choking, Biting, Marking, Scratching, Hair Pulling, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Masochistic Matt Murdock, Rough Sex, Blood Play

Word Count: 2.5k+

Note: I’ve never written Matt before, and I wrote this after watching THAT scene with Bullseye in Born Again.

Tags: @frankcastiglione @crowned-clown-crow @letsby

Read more MARVEL

This was never supposed to happen, the devil’s breath hot on your shoulder as he slowly parts your thighs with bruised, calloused hands. You were never supposed to fall for that perfect smile beneath those full lips, nor succumb to his witty charms, but here you are allowing another man, the devil of all people, to touch you the way that Frank used to. Only he isn’t anything like Frank, not even close.

Matt never made you feel like a burden, like his affection for you was some kind of curse or weakness getting in the way of one of his missions. He was always eager to see you, treating the time you spent together like a gift that needed to be cherished, his presence filling in the gap that Frank had left wide open. Where Frank was distant and cold, Matt is smooth and confident, effortlessly pushing your legs even further apart to make room for him to stand between them. You could feel that infernal heat as it radiated off him, rough palms encasing your knees before tracing twin trails of gooseflesh up your trembling thighs.

“I want to thank you,” he whispers, referring to all the times his recklessness had led a path of blood and sweat straight to your doorstep. “For being there for me.” His fingertips press into your skin, massaging the muscles of your inner thighs as you open yourself up to him. “The world needs more people like you. Selfless. Kind. Beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Is all you can manage to get out, your heart racing as his hands memorize the curves of your body, prickling the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. You find yourself lifting your arms and resting them on top of his shoulders as he brings his face even closer to yours, the glimmer of the city skyline reflecting in his eyes like dozens of tiny stars in the night sky. You know that he can’t see you, not in the way that you can see him at least, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes your stomach flip, makes you forget about Frank entirely. You’ve never been this close to Matt before, never been dizzied on the spot by the woodsy musk of his cologne or had a shiver sent up your spine by his wandering hands. And now that you’re here in his arms, you wonder if it will ever be possible for you to go without.

“Yeah, beautiful.” He digs his thumbs deep into your pelvis with a sly grin, the pang of his touch making you gasp before he pulls you to the counter’s edge in one swift motion, pressing his hips against the thin fabric of your shorts.

Oh God, he wants this just as badly as you do.

His mouth is softer than Frank’s at first, his tongue more decisive as it quickly parts your lips in order to savor what he’s been longing for this whole time. You can practically taste his desperation, his cruel intentions more than evident just from the way that he kisses you, languidly licking your teeth and biting your bottom lip just hard enough for it to sting.

Pain. Of course, that makes perfect sense.

His stubble gently scratches your skin as he deepens the kiss, audibly inhaling your scent with each turn of his head as if trying to sample every flavor and note that your mouth has to offer, triggering that moisture to collect between your folds along with it. He groans the very second that he can feel it, practically vibrating the marrow in your bones as he grabs onto your ass, pressing his hips against your needy center in a slow, tantric rhythm until a whiny moan finally leaves your lips.

“Mmm, so beautiful and so needy,” he teases, squeezing your cheeks before slipping his fingers beneath the seam of your shorts, finding the evidence he already knew was there. “And so wet,” he laughs, his breath ghosting over your face as he glides his fingers through the length of your folds until he hits that overly sensitive spot.

“Matt,” you moan, those calloused fingers of his doing wonders for the friction on your clit, rubbing it up and down as if it was one of his braille letters he was trying to memorize over and over again. You can’t help but start to grind your hips against his growing erection, hastening your pleasure as your hormones start to take over.

“Yes, sweetheart? Do you want something?” His mocking tone is dripping with a dark sense of dominance he’s never used with you before, tightening that coil in your stomach as he continues sending bursts of white hot heat up into your core, stoking that fire inside with the tip of his finger.

You can only nod in response, the pleasure he’s so generously doling out robbing you of any coherent words as you rest your forehead against his, your senses almost completely overwhelmed already. You moan again as he persists in his ministrations, the bursts of ecstasy drawing you so close to him that you would nearly fall off the counter if it weren’t for his other hand grasping at your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze to hold you in place.

He wastes no time pushing his fingers inside the sheath of your velvety walls, briefly depriving you of the concentrated bliss from your bud as he bends his wrist behind you. He kisses you again, harder this time as he makes his way down your lips and chin, nipping at the delicate skin of your neck until he sucks a bruise into the pulse point just below your jawline. He rolls his tongue across your flesh before sucking it in past his teeth, making sure to leave a spot dark enough to mark you as his as his fingers slide in and out of you, stretching out that muscle that hasn’t been used since Frank had left.

It isn’t until he’s had his fill, until after he’s tasted every bit of skin on that spot and bitten you hard enough that he finally decides to let go. As he licks that swollen mark where his teeth had indented into your skin, he passes over your slick, sensitive bud one more time before pulling his fingers away just as you’re about to combust.

“Then ask for it,” he removes his fingers from between your legs and brings them up to his lips, your juices now coating them in a glistening sheen of pheromones before he tastes them for himself, staring at you as he awaits your reply.

Jesus Christ.

“I want you.” Your whisper is barely audible as you take in the sight of him sucking your essence off his fingers as if he can’t get enough, leaving a trail of saliva between them and his lips before he shoves them into your mouth.

“Oh, you want me to fuck you? Is that it?” His fingers pass between your lips and over your tongue, nearly gagging you in the process as you sample the cocktail of your two fluids married together. The tang of your sex blended with the salt of his skin is absolutely intoxicating as you take him all the way down to his knuckles, getting drunk off his words.

“Mmm hmm,” you hum around his digits, nodding as he slowly slides them in and out of your mouth a few times, stirring the need inside you to grow stronger with each passing second.

“Yeah?” He coos, a devilish grin parting his lips before he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and drags them down your bottom lip. “I can do that.”

————————————————

Matt peppers the tingling skin of your legs and hips with fiery kisses as he climbs on top of you, his tongue delving between them for another taste of your arousal, lifting your thighs up onto his shoulders for better access. He pushes them back toward you as he feasts on your flesh, moaning as he licks delicious patterns into your swollen sex before sucking and biting your neurons into overdrive. It was as if he was starving for days and you were the only thing that could nourish him.

Your back arches as he nearly brings you to the edge all over again, your hand getting lost in his chestnut locks before tugging on his scalp, urging him to come up for air. As insane as his mouth is, you want him inside of you more, want him to claim you fully in every single way.

He takes the hint and nips at your thigh one last time before slithering up your body, smoothing his palm over your belly and between your breasts before finding its home around the base of your neck. His breath hitches as his fingers graze over the spot where he’s marked you, the reddened bruise in the shape of his mouth that he intends to keep giving to you for months to come. He leans down to kiss you, slightly tightening his grip on your throat as his cock bobs aimlessly between your thighs, teasing your soaking wet entrance.

“Are you really gonna make me wait?” You practically beg with a pleading lift of your hips, unable to take the torture of not having him inside you any longer.

“So impatient,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss you again with an amused chuckle caught in his throat. “I love that.”

“Matt, please,” you groan into the kiss as he hovers over you, the fire from his body so close yet so far away that it practically sets you alight. He knows what he’s doing, knows exactly how to press your buttons, to push you so close to the edge until you have no choice but to break beneath him.

“Please what?” He slides his hand higher up on your neck, pressing a flash of pain into your bruise with his thumb.

Pain. Oh yeah.

You tilt your head to kiss him deeply, tasting hints of coffee as it mixes with your own personal zest before greedily taking his juicy bottom lip between your teeth. You suck it all the way into your mouth, teeth frantically clashing against his as you bite down and pull it toward you, stretching it to its limit. You hear him groan as your teeth cut hard enough to break the skin, just enough to make him bleed, the iron and salt of his blood hitting your tongue unexpectedly. That’s what he wants. You graze your palms up his arms as you continue drinking his blood, admiring the definition of his biceps on the way up before scratching your fingernails down his chest, making a mark of your own. You can feel your nails tearing through his skin, breaking that most basic barrier of protection he has from the elements before that groan of his turns into a deep guttural growl.

“Fuck!” He mumbles with his lip still caught between your teeth, unwilling to even try and pull it out. The eight vertical scratches you’ve carved into his chest turn a bright white before they begin to bleed, the scarlet liquid smearing across your belly as he finally decides to break free from your mouth. He lowers himself down low enough to grab hold of your thigh and lift it up above his shoulder, stretching your hamstrings in a burning ache before looking you in the eye as he lines himself up with your cunt. “You get this wet for Frank, sweetheart?”

What did he just say?

Before you can even muster an answer, he pushes himself inside, filling you up more than his fingers ever could as your moisture allows him to bury himself all the way down to the hilt. He isn’t as long as Frank, but his girth ignites a thousand tiny sparks into your viscera, lighting a euphoric fuse as he pulls back and thrusts in even harder, deeper than you thought he could. He leans forward as the blood from his chest starts to drip freely onto yours, bonding the two of you together with every carnal fluid imaginable as he makes that fuse burn hotter and brighter than anyone ever had before, even your beloved Frank.

“No,” you whisper your answer, afraid that Frank might hear you somehow, somewhere if you raised your voice even an octave.

“No? You sure?” A smile curls into his bloodstained lips as he presses a kiss into your thigh, smearing the sanguine fluid onto your skin. He lets go of your neck and takes your other thigh onto his shoulder, grinning like a kid in a candy store. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

You let out a curse as he pushes your thighs back toward you, practically bending you in half as your muscles silently cry out in agony. But your hips tilt back along with them, allowing him to rut himself deeper inside you at an all new angle, making your body shake and your teeth chatter as the he hits that bundle of nerves again and again with expert precision. Thrust after thrust forces you to grasp onto your sheets, holding on for dear life so he won’t fuck you into the headboard as he gets lost inside you. The desperate rhythmic movement of his hips triggers that chemical reaction inside you as the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes against the walls of your apartment, nearly drowning out the rising sound of your moans.

“You gonna come on my cock?” He grabs hold of your chin as he senses that you’re getting close, making sure to hit that special spot every time he drives himself deeper. “Huh?”

“Yes!” Your walls flutter around him as your orgasm explodes within you, every inch of your body tingling with a sizzling sensation of ecstasy. That burning bliss travels up your spine and into your extremities as he drives it home, washing away the pain in your legs as he moves his hands up to your ankles, holding them up by your head. “Yes!”

“Good.” His breath becomes ragged, his thrusts more frantic as he feels you clench down around him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as your spasming smooth muscle squeezes his climax right out of him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he loses all control, hoping to muffle his feral grunts and groans in his frenzy.

Your entire body quakes in the aftermath of your shared euphoria, his blood, spit and come now coating every inch of you, inside and out. His hips finally slow to a reluctant halt and he kisses you again, holding himself inside you for a minute. He thrusts up into you one more time for good measure, making sure you’re able to feel each twitch and spasm as he unloads every last drop within the welcome heat of your walls.

“F-fuck.” He stutters breathlessly. “I promised Frank I’d never do that.”

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

— one shot.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: when he’s got the grills on, the world goes feral however only you get to experience them

warnings: buckle up. cussing(the n word), smut (18+ MDNI): lewis is a munch!

saint’s team radio 🎀: y’all, do not judge me for making this 🤣. that short ass video made do this 🫦 (this is very short but i love it!)

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @queenshikongo3 @canyouimangine @yeea-nah @purplelewlew @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @exotic-iris13 @sageispunk @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @emjayewrites

pls like, reblog and comment! 🫶🏽

general masterlist!

-

You could barely control yourself.

It was a hot day in Los Angeles with temperatures reaching really high, so much so that you two had to get out of the house for a little drive. Lewis has remembered that he was supposed to pick up something from his jeweller, something that would surprise you.

And surprised you were.

The cool glass underneath your arm wasn’t enough to cool down your entire body as you leaned on the display case in the store. You crossed your legs, tightening your fists and playing with your nails. Anything, anything in the world to distract you from the sight before you.

There stood your man, trying on his different sets of grillz that he ordered a while back. He would flash that million dollar smile at you every time he tried on a new set, knowing very well what the pieces of jewellery do to you. Lewis checked himself in the mirror, evaluating the sets and how they look on him.

“What about this one, love?” He turned to you, smiling to show them off. This design was intricate and beautiful. Both the top fangs were plain gold with the number ‘44’ etched into them with the bottom grill running a straight line between his sharp canines, the middle encrusted with diamonds.

“Yeahhh,” You dragged out, sounding rather exasperated. “This one has to be my favourite.” Clearly your throat afterwards, your voice became slightly higher. The heat between your legs was throbbing at this point.

Lewis gave you a slick once over and turned back to the mirror with a smug smile. “You said that about all of them but thank you, baby.” He winked. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, reading you like an open book.

You, on the other hand, were petrified that your arousal could escape onto your pants anytime now that Lewis was deliberately moving slowly just to annoy you.

Just to see your reaction, just to hear you.

-

“I wanna hear you, okay? Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, baby.” Lewis spoke, his knees already on the ground next to your shared bed.

You nod at his words, relieved that you were finally going to be relieved by him, by his mouth. He had no problem in teasing you about it on the car ride home, his large hand ghosting over your most intimate parts from time to time.

Lewis was very careful when taking off your shorts, wanting to savour this moment. Your slight panting made this all the more better. The glint of gold appeared as he smirked at you, watching you all desperate for his touch.

He settled in between your legs, his favourite spot to be at, moving your thighs to sit on his shoulders. Moving his mouth in a gentle but agonisingly slow manner, he placed kisses on your thighs and he knew you were ready for the main event.

“Lewis, please….” You breathed out a moan, feeling the slight sharpness of his grillz biting down on your inner thigh before continuing his kisses. When he got to the place where you wanted him, Lewis paused.

With a throaty chuckle, he bumped his nose just above your clit, making you squirm. “Look at how wet you are for me, princess. Could eat you all day…” Lewis trailed off, moving your lace panties to the side. You were puffy and swollen, your cunt glistening with your juices and he loved this.

By flattening his tongue, he swiped one lick with the taste of his wife already sitting on his lips. “Fuck, baby…” the man groaned before diving in.

He ate you out as if he was a starved man. Lewis made sure to pay special attention to your clit, sucking on it while using his tongue simultaneously. His large hands had trailed down to your hips to pull you closer before bringing his right hand to begin playing within your folds,

“You like that, princess? You like what Daddy’s doing to you, yeah?” He groaned against your pussy. In the slowest speed, he entered two digits inside of you, preparing you for what’s next.

Your excessive moaning had prevented you from engaging in dirty talk, your back arching in ways you never thought with his tattooed fingers buried deep inside you. Feeling the all too familiar drop in your stomach, you grabbed onto his head and pulled on his braids as you ground on his face a bit more.

With soft panting, you managed to find your voice. “Baby…I’m close, I’m so…oh my fuck.” You moaned at the feeling of his tongue spelling out his name as you neared your orgasm. “Fuck, Lewis! F-Fuck!” The groans were much louder than before.

“Let it all out, baby. I got you.” He spoke, sucking on your clit one last time with the diamonds grazing over it. That sensation snapped in your belly and you came hard. Lewis made sure to slurp up every last drop of your essence before he slowly stood up, licking his lips and flashing his grillz at you.

“You had fun?” He taunted, knowing you were breathless from the cunnilingus he just did on you. “Nigga, did you..spell your name on it?” You panted, the after effects of such an intense orgasm still washing over you.

He nodded proudly. “And I can do it again, I’ll add the ‘Sir’ this time.”

-

saint’s notes: AHHHHHHHHHH

[mcrdvcks]

Shut Up

Summary: You and Logan are sent on a mission: go to the gala and find out information about a mutant trafficking ring.

Word Count: 3.7k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: the summary seems much darker than what the story actually is, promise!

reader's powers are psionics, but her specialty is feeling other people's emotions

also, check out the part 2 if you so please! it's pretty much only smut (i think it's more words than this too, oops)

picture of reader's dress

warnings/tags: some uses of y/n, pet name (doll), rich people

Part 2

You and Logan stood in the large entrance way of the gala, the worker taking your feathery coat from your hands, leaving you in your black figure-hugging gown, with detachable arm sleeves and a high slit on one side.

This certainly wasn’t your ideal mission, you hated dressing up.

You fidgeted with the detachable arm sleeves of your gown, glancing over at Logan, who stood beside you in the grand entranceway. His usual rough exterior was toned down by the crisp black suit he was wearing, though he still had that rugged edge about him that no fancy attire could hide. He caught your fidgeting and smirked, leaning in slightly.

"You look uncomfortable, doll," he said in that deep, gravelly voice of his, his eyes scanning your figure from top to bottom. "Fancy parties not your thing?"

You shot him a quick look, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He had a way of making you feel both self-conscious and... something else. Something you didn’t want to think about too much.

"You know I hate dressing up for this shit, Logan," you muttered, tugging slightly at the fabric near your waist. "I feel like I’m suffocating in this thing. And these people…" You gestured toward the well-dressed crowd mingling in the ballroom ahead, laughing and sipping on champagne. "Ugh."

Logan chuckled lowly, his gaze never leaving you. "Coulda fooled me. You look damn good." The compliment was casual, but the way he said it, the way his eyes lingered a bit too long on your slit, sent a small shiver down your spine.

You rolled your eyes, trying to act unaffected. "Focus, Logan. We’ve got a job to do, remember?"

"Trust me, doll," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets, his smirk still in place. "I'm plenty focused."

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Logan had always been like this with you—flirty, teasing, but never crossing the line. It was this unspoken thing between you two, a game that neither of you had acknowledged but both played. Sometimes you wondered if he was just messing with you, or if there was something more underneath all the teasing.

Either way, now wasn’t the time to be thinking about it.

As you both stepped further into the ballroom, the sound of soft classical music filled the air. Logan’s hand brushed against the small of your back, guiding you toward the bar, where you could at least look like you were blending in while you scoped out the place.

Charles had said there were going to be a group of people here tonight talking about a mutant trafficking ring. All you had to do was find them and listen in.

And just maybe kick some ass, even if Charles told you not to. You and Logan weren’t exactly the type to follow orders.

Logan leaned close to your ear as you both approached the bar. "Just remember, doll, no ass-kicking unless absolutely necessary," he said with a smirk, his voice teasing but with a hint of seriousness underneath.

You glanced up at him, trying to suppress a smile. "I know, I know. We’re supposed to play nice and just listen," you said, rolling your eyes. But let’s be honest, 'just listening' wasn’t your strong suit either. You were here to get information, but the thought of standing around, making small talk with these people, made your skin crawl. You’d much rather get straight to the point. Maybe that’s why Logan had been assigned to partner with you on this mission—he was just as bad at following orders as you were.

"Good. 'Cause the last thing I need is you turning this into a scene," Logan replied, his grin widening as he leaned against the bar.

"Oh, come on, Logan," you shot back, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "When have I ever been known to cause a scene?" You batted your eyelashes dramatically, playing innocent.

Logan snorted. "Yeah, sure. You, not causing a scene? That's cute, sweetheart." He signaled to the bartender. "Whiskey. Neat."

You glanced around the room, using your psionic abilities to subtly sense the emotional energy of the people around you. The room was a mess of conflicting emotions—excitement, greed, lust, and arrogance filled the space, but nothing out of the ordinary for a gathering like this. Still, you could sense something darker underneath the surface, a faint thread of fear and unease woven into the fabric of the crowd. It was faint, but it was there.

Logan nudged you with his elbow, drawing your attention back to him. "You picking up anything?"

"Just the usual cocktail of emotions," you said, lowering your voice as the bartender handed Logan his drink. "But there’s something… off. I can’t quite put my finger on it yet."

Logan took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes scanning the room. "We’ll find 'em. Just gotta stay patient." He gave you a sideways glance. "Think you can manage that, doll?"

"Patience is my middle name," you deadpanned, though both of you knew that wasn’t true. You weren’t known for your patience. But for now, you’d play along. This mission was important, and you weren’t about to screw it up. Not with Charles counting on you.

Logan chuckled again and leaned back against the bar, his eyes briefly flicking down to your gown before meeting your gaze again. "Still can’t believe you got all dressed up for this. Coulda fooled me that you hate it. You’re turning a few heads."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that your way of telling me I look nice, Logan? Because that almost sounded like a compliment."

His lips curled into a slow, lazy grin. "What can I say? You clean up nice, Psionix." He downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You felt a slight blush creeping up your neck but quickly masked it with a smirk. "And here I thought you liked me better in tactical gear."

"Don’t get me wrong, doll," Logan said, his voice lowering as he stepped just a little closer, his presence filling the space between you. "You look good in anything. But this… this is something else."

Your breath caught for a split second, the heat between you rising as his gaze lingered on your face, your lips, and then back to your eyes. ���Well, if I’m being honest, I prefer you shirtless,” you teased, your voice low but dripping with playful intent. You didn’t break eye contact, letting the words hang in the air between you both.

Logan raised an eyebrow, that cocky smirk of his creeping back onto his face. “Is that so?” he murmured, leaning in slightly, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. "Can't say I'm surprised. Most people do, sweetheart."

You snorted softly, rolling your eyes as you turned away from him to glance around the room, trying to refocus on the mission. But you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. This was just Logan. Always pushing boundaries, always teasing. And you weren’t exactly innocent in it either.

But still, there was something… different about tonight. The way his eyes lingered on you, the way his voice dropped a little lower than usual, the way your heart raced just a little faster. You wondered if he could sense it too—the tension between you both that had always been there but never quite acknowledged.

Logan’s hand found its way to the small of your back again, his touch light but steady as he subtly guided you toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. The warmth of his hand sent a jolt through you, but you tried to ignore it, focusing instead on scanning the crowd for your targets.

“You see anything?” he murmured, leaning close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath against your ear.

“Not yet,” you replied, eyes darting from face to face. “But that uneasy feeling is still there. Just need to figure out where it’s coming from.”

“Hmm,” Logan hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze still roaming over the room. “Stay sharp, doll.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Like I need you to tell me that.”

He smirked, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “Just making sure you remember the plan.”

“Oh, I remember,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Play nice, look pretty, and no ass-kicking unless absolutely necessary.”

Logan chuckled, his eyes flicking over your form again. “Well, you’ve got two out of three down pat.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Which two?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Looking pretty and causing trouble.”

Your breath hitched slightly, the intensity in his gaze sending a ripple of heat through you. “Pretty sure ‘trouble’ is your middle name, not mine,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Logan’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Guess that makes us a good team, then.”

You wanted to scoff, to brush off the implication, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight. For a second, you almost forgot why you were there, the mission blurring at the edges as you got lost in those damn eyes of his.

“Psionix,” he said, bringing you back to reality with just your code name. His tone was more serious now, a subtle reminder of where you were and what you were supposed to be doing.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, tearing your gaze away from him and focusing on the task at hand. “Just keep your eyes peeled.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. But as you turned to face the room again, you couldn’t help but feel his eyes on you, a weighty gaze that made your skin tingle.

You refocused, honing in on the emotions swirling in the crowd. There was excitement, greed—nothing unexpected for a gala full of rich people. But that dark thread of unease lingered, slipping just beneath the surface. It was faint, but unmistakable. Whoever it was, they were here.

You closed your eyes for just a second, concentrating. Your power flared slightly as you extended your senses further into the crowd, gently weaving through the emotions until you found it—a cluster of fear and malice. Bingo.

"There," you whispered, nudging Logan subtly. "Near the back, close to the big windows. Two men, maybe three. They’re nervous, hiding something."

Logan gave a small nod, his gaze shifting casually toward the area you’d mentioned. "I see 'em," he murmured. "Can’t hear much from here, though. We’re gonna have to get closer."

You both started moving, weaving through the crowd, trying to appear casual. You made your way to the bar again, standing just a few feet away from the group of men. Logan's superhuman hearing kicked in as he subtly leaned in, pretending to survey the liquor bottles behind the bar.

"They’re talkin’ about somethin’ shady, but it’s quiet," Logan muttered, low enough for only you to hear. "Mutants, shipments, some kinda deal goin’ down soon."

You kept your eyes forward, but your heart quickened. "Trafficking?"

"Sounds like it," Logan replied, his jaw tightening. "We need more details. But if we hang around here too long, they’re gonna get suspicious."

"Maybe we should split up. We’d blend in easier with the crowd," you suggested, trying to stay casual as you glanced around the room.

Logan tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning the crowd before settling back on you. "Not a bad idea, doll. But if things go sideways, you better stay close. Don’t need you gettin' yourself into trouble without me."

You rolled your eyes. "I think I can handle myself, Logan."

He smirked. "Oh, I know you can. Just sayin', I like bein' there to watch."

You ignored the way his words made your pulse quicken and nodded. "We’ll stay in each other’s sight. I’ll keep an eye on the emotions from this side. You listen in, and if anything happens, we meet at the far end of the bar."

"Got it." Logan took another sip of his whiskey before turning to saunter off toward the side of the room where the group of men stood. You watched as he moved, trying to blend in with the crowd as you stayed where you were, your senses focused on tracking the emotions of your targets.

The nervous energy around the men was still there, tense and uneasy. It was like they were waiting for something—or someone. You shifted your stance, leaning casually against the bar as you closed your eyes briefly, letting your psionics stretch out just a bit more, trying to pull at the threads of fear in the room.

Logan, now closer to the group, kept his back to them but you could tell from his posture that he was listening in. His superhuman hearing had always been a huge advantage in these situations, and with your psionics guiding him, you made a pretty solid team—when you weren’t teasing each other, that is.

Just as you started to focus, one of the men in the group glanced over, his gaze lingering a little too long on Logan. Shit. He must've noticed something.

You felt the wave of suspicion hit you before Logan even turned slightly to meet your eyes across the room. You knew you had to do something before the men caught on to what you were both up to.

Without thinking, you pushed yourself off the bar and sauntered over to Logan, pretending like you’d been on your way to him the whole time. When you reached him, you leaned in close, brushing your fingers against his arm as if you were just here to flirt.

"Play along," you whispered into his ear.

Logan, ever the pro, didn’t even flinch. Instead, he turned his head slightly toward you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Thought you couldn’t stay away from me, doll."

You narrowed your eyes at him but kept the playful banter going. "Yeah, well, someone has to keep an eye on you. Besides, you’re the one who told me to stay close."

His smirk widened as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in closer so you were pressed up against him. It was all for show, of course, but the feel of his hand on your hip sent a jolt through you that had nothing to do with the mission. "That’s right. Guess I did."

You could feel the eyes of the men across the room on you both, their suspicion easing slightly as they bought into the act. You had to keep them distracted, keep their attention off what you and Logan were really doing.

"Don’t get too comfortable," you muttered, trying to stay focused. "They’re still watching."

Logan’s grip tightened on your waist for just a second, his eyes flicking toward the group before settling back on you. "Don’t worry, doll. I got this." Before you could respond, Logan leaned in even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "You’re really sellin’ it, Y/N. Almost too well."

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way his breath on your skin made you feel. "Just doin’ my part."

His hand on your waist slid a little lower, dangerously close to your hip bone. "Sure you are. You’re enjoyin' this a little too much."

You shot him a glare, but before you could retort, one of the men from the group stepped forward, moving toward the bar. He was heading in your direction.

"Incoming," you muttered to Logan, your voice barely audible. “He’s confident. Think he knows who we are?”

Logan didn’t look phased, but you saw the subtle shift in his posture—his muscles tensing under the fabric of his suit. He kept his gaze focused ahead, though you knew his senses were already tracking the man moving toward you.

“Don’t think so,” Logan murmured, his lips barely moving.

The closer the man got to you, the more arrogance you felt. Whoever this guy was clearly thought he had you both right where he wanted you.

You turned slightly in Logan’s hold, his hand moving with your body to finally rest on your hip. “Quick, pretend like you're about to kiss me.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Pretend, huh? Doll, you should know I go all in or nothin’- ”

You cut Logan off by putting your hands on his jaw and pulling him down, pressing your lips against his. It was supposed to be just for show, just a distraction to keep the guy from getting suspicious. But the second your lips met his, the whole plan went out the window.

Logan didn’t hesitate. He kissed you back, hard and fast, his hand tightening around your waist as he pulled you even closer. The heat between you two had been simmering for a while now, and suddenly it felt like a dam had broken. You felt the tension that had been building for so long snap into something real, something you couldn’t ignore.

Your heart was racing, and you knew you should stop—this wasn’t the time or place, and you had a job to do—but his lips were on yours, and it felt way too good to stop. You could feel his rough beard brush against your skin as he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding up to the back of your neck, holding you close like he didn’t want to let go.

For a brief moment, the mission faded into the background. The gala, the crowd, even the man approaching—all of it disappeared as you lost yourself in Logan. The heat between you two was undeniable, every teasing remark, every playful touch over the years suddenly making sense. It had always been there, simmering just beneath the surface.

But then reality crashed back down, hard.

You heard the footsteps stop a few feet away, the arrogant man watching you both with thinly veiled disgust. He cleared his throat, his presence a stark reminder of where you were and what you were supposed to be doing.

You pulled back from the kiss, breathless, eyes wide as you met Logan’s gaze. For a second, neither of you moved, the intensity of the moment hanging thick in the air. His hand was still on your waist, the other resting gently at the nape of your neck, fingers brushing your skin. You could see it in his eyes—he didn’t want to let go, and truth be told, neither did you.

But the mission.

Clearing your throat, you took a step back, putting some distance between you and Logan while keeping your posture relaxed, like you hadn’t just been completely swept away. You smoothed your gown, trying to regain some composure.

The man standing before you smirked, his eyes flicking between you and Logan with an air of superiority. “Enjoying yourselves?” he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Logan was the first to recover, his rough exterior snapping back into place like a shield. He gave the man a once-over, his gaze hard and unyielding. “What’s it to you?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, as if daring the guy to say something more.

The man’s smirk widened, clearly not intimidated. He tilted his head, studying you both for a moment before speaking again. “You two don’t look like the usual gala attendees.” He raised an eyebrow, his suspicion obvious now. “Mind telling me what brings you here?”

You could feel the tension crackling between Logan and the man, both of them sizing each other up. Logan’s body was coiled, ready to strike if needed, and you knew he was already itching to shut this guy up the old-fashioned way. But you couldn’t let this turn into a fight. Not yet.

You forced a smile, stepping slightly in front of Logan to diffuse the situation. “It’s a gala,” you said, keeping your tone light and playful. “We’re here for the same reason everyone else is—to enjoy ourselves.” You ran your hand down Logan’s chest as if to sell the act, even though your heart was still pounding from the kiss.

The man’s eyes narrowed, clearly not buying it, but he didn’t push the issue further. Instead, he gave a condescending shrug. “Well, enjoy the party,” he said, his voice laced with disdain before he turned and sauntered off toward the bar.

The second he was out of earshot, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, glancing up at Logan. “That was close.”

Logan’s eyes were still on the man, watching him like a predator watches prey. “Too close,” he muttered, his voice gruff. Then his gaze shifted to you, softer now, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your mind was still spinning from the kiss, from the intensity of it, from what it might mean. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

Logan didn’t answer right away, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he finally tore his gaze away. “We need to figure out what those guys are up to. You still got a read on them?”

You blinked, shaking off the lingering effects of the kiss as you focused on the mission again. Closing your eyes briefly, you stretched out your psionic senses, feeling for that dark thread of unease that had been following the group. It was still there, pulsing just beneath the surface of the room’s general excitement. “Yeah,” you said, opening your eyes. “They’re tense. Something’s about to happen.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “Then we better be ready for it.” He gave you a long look, as if trying to figure something out, but then his expression hardened into his usual no-nonsense demeanor. “Stay close, doll.”

You nodded, pushing aside the butterflies still fluttering in your chest as you focused on the task ahead. There’d be time to unpack what just happened between you and Logan later—right now, you had a mission to complete.

But as you and Logan moved back into position, ready for whatever came next, you couldn’t help but steal one more glance at him. The tension between you wasn’t going anywhere. And something told you that after tonight, it was going to be a lot harder to keep ignoring it.

tags: @freythecrazyfae, @its-in-the-woods

[southernbluebellereader]

Peach Pie and Cream

Jack Reacher x F! Southern Waitress Reader (Amazon TV show, Alan Ritchson)

Warning: Some fighting, suggestive descriptions, cutesy

Summary: Our giant man Reacher meets a charming young waitress :) and takes care of people ;)

Word Count: ~2,115 words

A/N: There will be a part 2 eventually lol

Master List - Tag List Sign-Up (tags at the bottom)

“What can I get you, sugar?”

God, the way she called him “Sugar” practically dripped from her lip-gloss covered lips like hot honey. Her breasts threatening to spill out of her lacy unpadded bra - it’s dark color barely showing through her low-cut white top.

He knew not to look, he shouldn’t, he couldn’t.

But one peek wouldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t even seven-thirty in the morning when she’d walked over to him with a pen and a little notepad.

Reacher sat up, his body erect as she spoke so sweetly to him. His eyes quickly glanced at her bosom, then made eye contact with her, showing a crooked smile, “Good morning, what are your specials?”

Y/N gave him a small smile as she caught the flicker in his eyes as he lifted them to meet yours. “Our breakfast specials include the garlic biscuit sliders with chicken, sausage, or ham…” She leaned over slightly and pointed on the menu on the table at the various specials.

Y/N’s perfume smelled so sweet. Hints of peaches and vanilla.

No. He can’t be distracted. He had to meet Neagly later. 

He smiled as he looked back up at her, he didn’t hear half of what Y/N just said about the menu, just glancing at the worn out name tag that said her name. Her cheeks blushed slightly as he looked at her, the two of them were rather close.

Smiling at her, he asked, “I’ll have the garlic biscuit with the sausage special. Can I get extra bacon and a slice of your peach pie?”

“Yes, sir, you can. You want ice tea or coffee to drink?”

“Coffee is fine. Just black.”

She quickly glanced down at his large and firm chest and then back up at his eyes. He smirked even more.

Y/N bit her lower lip and then stood upright, writing his order down, “Sure thing, honey. I’ll be right back in a few.”

And those few minutes took an eternity. Reacher’s thighs began to itch as he watched her walk back to the back counter, leaning over so she could give the chef his order through the heating lamps, blushing in playful annoyance, with the cook winking and pursed lips, making kissing noises at her until she rolled her eyes and sighed, shaking her head.

He barely knew her but the sight of the cook irritated him. That’s no way to treat you - even if it was banter between coworkers. He’d been in town for merely a few hours.

He tried to look away. He really did. But the way her hips swayed and her chest moved, her apron tight and snug around her waist, her soft body spilling out from the sides of the apron and the top of her jeans. Every time she stood by a table to take an order, she always shifted her weight to her left, her left hip pushing out of the top of her jeans.

He always liked a full woman.

Chuckling to himself, he turned slightly to keep himself from boring holes on her ass. He glanced out the window but was thankfully disturbed by the smell of her and the food he ordered.

“Here we got today’s special with extra bacon and a cup o’joe, hot and ready just for you, honey. I’m all out of peach pie but I got one coming out of the oven any secon’ now. You want some ice cream with that pie?” She laid his food down gently, he gave you a grin and thanked you, “Careful, plate’s hot, honey.”

“Ice cream would hurt my teeth but I’ll take it since you suggested it.” Reacher caught her blush. 

“I’ll make a note of it. Enjoy your food and let me know if ya need anything, ok?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled and picked up his utensils.

She winked at him and walked away, picking up a pot of coffee to replenish cups of other patrons and swatting away advances from men in their sixties on her way back to the back counter.

After a while, Y/N walked back with a plate of peach pie covered in a large scoop of vanilla ice cream and placed it in front of him.

“One large piece of fresh peach pie with a heaping scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream for the gentleman,” She said cheerfully and replenished his coffee.

He couldn’t help but smile at her, “Why on earth would you work here?” He asked bluntly, but with a soft chuckle at the end.

“Well, I got bills to pay. Just like everyone else.” She chuckled. “You ain’t got no bills?”

God, he’d do anything to hear Y/N laugh again.

“No, I don’t.”

“No bills at all?” She shook your head slightly, smiling still, thinking he’s joking.

“I have no reason to lie.”

She stared at him, not quite sure if she actually believed him or not. Most of her customers told her a few wild things here and there. But no one around these parts looked quite like him.

He was a behemoth of a man standing taller than the green giant on a can of peas, bigger and more muscular than those lumberjacks on those Brawny paper towels. His one arm was probably the size of one of her soft and plush thighs that seemed to be restricted on those skinny jeans she’s wearing.

“Aight.” She chuckled again. Her name was called, and she glanced at a group of young men about your age who dog-whistled and hollered at her. Y/N turned back around to Reacher and forced a smile, “You enjoy your pie, sir, I’ll be back in a bit with your bill. Just holler if you need anything, yeah?”

“You know them?” Reacher suddenly turned serious. His attention was on those young men who banged on the table, demanding that she serve them.

“I-I’m sorry about them, I’ll tell them to quiet down in a minute. They’re just a little rowdy-“

“That’s not what I asked. Do you know them?” He asked again, looking up at her. Her demeanor changed. Embarrassment. She could pick out that pleather jacket out from a crowd. 

Blushing slightly in embarrassment, she answered, “I know one of them… that one in the sport’s jacket. The rest are his little friends. But I’ll tell them to-“

Before she could finish, Reacher stood up from his seat, his mere size making you gasp. She hadn’t realized how large he actually was until he stood up, she hadn’t seen him when he first walked in.

“Sir- please you don’t have to talk to them, what are you doin-“

“Your name is Y/N?”

“Y-Yes…” she clutched the handle of the coffee pot to make sure she didn’t drop it. He glanced down at her and gave her a half-smirk, “Just go stay behind the counter and put the coffee back on the machine so it doesn’t get cold.”

Not knowing what to think, Y/N did what he asked, the other waitresses following suit, other customers either staying in their seats or moving away as they watched Reacher walk up to the group of rowdy young men who still tried to get your attention.

He grabbed a chair and sat it by the edge of the table and sat down. Even sitting down, his large body frame towered over them. He didn’t say anything at first but looked at them smugly for a moment as they all stared at him. 

The main culprit looked like he had a vein about to pop out of his forehead, “Can I help you?”

“Any reason you need Y/N to help you?”

“She’s a waitress, and I’ve been trying to get her number for a hot minute - she works here, of course she’s going to serve us.” He scoffed.

“I don’t appreciate you calling her over like she’s a dog, Pleather.”

—

“This will just sting a little-“

“Y/N, I’m fine-“

“No you ain’t, Reacher. Your brow and your lip is all busted up and that one guy had a knife.” Y/N shook her head as she cleaned up his brow with some alcohol and then put a small bandage on his forehead.

Reacher smiled at her the whole time as he let her patch him up. She’d taken him off to the side. Moaning in the distance outside, incoherent cursing could be heard from the parking lot as the group of young men eventually stood up from the ground and made it back to their car. The main culprit was hanging out in the parking lot, looking through the window at Y/N and Reacher. He spit on the ground before finally going back to his car.

“But I’m serious, Reacher… you ain’t have to do that…” Once she finished, Y/N put the extra bandages back in the First Aid kit and looked at him with concern.

“Well, I did it anyway. And last I checked, you’re not a dog.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile and then patted his shoulder. “You’re sweet. Sorry about your pie, the ice cream is all melted. I’ll get you a new one.”

“You eat that new one, I’ll eat mine.” Reacher was not one to waste food if he could help it - especially when trouble seemed to follow him. Smiling softly, she nodded and patted his shoulder before going back behind the counter and cutting her own slice of pie as Reacher walked back to his seat, waiting and watching as Y/N walked back and sat opposite of him.

Like teenagers, they couldn’t keep eye contact while trying to eat their peach pie.

“That was some military fightin’ back there, Reacher? Is it ok if I call you Reacher?” Y/N managed to muster out, clearing his throat and looking up at him.

Chuckling softly, Reacher nodded, “Yeah, I was in for a while.” He paused for a moment, watching her eat. The stories she must’ve heard from people. The restaurant was quiet again. She looked up at him, giving him a small smile. “Jack is fine too.”

“Jack? That’s your first name?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jack Reacher.” She said. She was quiet for a second as she examined him. Taking in his appearance. Committing him to memory. She sucked the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head. Savoring his name, as if she took a bite of him like she did that pie. The sweetness in her voice dripping from her lips as she said his whole name. Sweeter than the half-eaten peach pies sitting before them.

“I like it. Hard to forget a name like that. It’s different. You stayin’ here long, Jack?” She scooped the last bit of pie and placed the spoon face down on her tongue, sucking off whatever peach pie remnants were left on the spoon before placing the spoon on her plate.

Very few people’s opinions mattered to Reacher, he barely knew Y/N but it made him smile when she said his name and that she liked his name. It gave him an unusual feeling. Couldn’t help but wonder what peach pie would taste like when it’s on her tongue. 

“Just passing through.” He leaned back once he finished his slice of pie, admiring the woman in front of him. Her lipgloss still glistened. Her eyes sparkled. Her breasts barely contained in her bra.

“That’s unfortunate. I would’ve loved to see you again, Jack.” She smiled when she took notice of him admiring her. It was a different type of admiration. “Can I call you?”

“Don’t have a phone.”

“Can I send you a letter?”

“Don’t have an address.”

“Well, damn, how will I talk to you and get to know you when you leave? Will this be the last I see of Jack Reacher, the man who saved my life?”

“I’ll come back tonight.” Reacher chuckled, smirking at her.

Y/N chuckled and then leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on the table, making the softness in her breasts very obvious as they pressed up. “Is that so? Well, would you like me to tell you the dinner specials now or later?”

“What time to do you get off?”

“After dinner tonight. Would you like to join me for dinner?” 

“I should be asking you that.” Reacher mirrored her actions, leaning forward, his massive arms made of military grade steel rested on the table. Their faces were mere inches apart.

“Well, I asked first.”

Reacher wasn’t one to pursue women. But Y/N? From the little time he got to interact with her, he might hang around this little country town a little while longer.

TAG LIST

@redpool @mykneeshurt