#and then you ask the dentist those questions and get the parts

[eats-the-stars]

hate my sister's shitty good for nothing boyfriend. can you imagine being a 30yo man with two kids who won't even scramble an egg. Not for his kids, not for his girlfriend, not for himself. literally if my sister doesn't leave out pre-made meals when he's watching the kids he will rip up bread or pour them dry cereal or open a granola bar and make himself microwave dinners. like, lowest effort possible. but if i mention this to my sis, she'll be like "no he's definitely cooked for the kids! he scrambled an egg for them once! i watched him do it!" but it's like...so he scrambled one egg in the last five years. just to like, prove he can? at your direct insistence? should we all clap? like seriously. hate this guy. had to really hold back recently because he had someone over and he was interacting with the kids more than usual for appearances, and he had to keep asking me and my sis what the 5yo was signing because he barely bothered to learn his own son's primary form of communication. i was so tempted to say "that one means 'go home' but you wouldn't know that because you don't take them anywhere." so hard to hold that in. If I had to describe this man in two words they would be these: Low Effort. Not quite bare minimum, but JUST enough to convince my sister that it would be too much hassle to get rid of him. he's stupid as fuck, but just smart enough to quickly stop shit like screaming obscenities at the kids for doing normal kid things. and he once stomped on my headphones and broke them in a fit of rage, but gave my sister money to replace them so it was "fine." Like, my sister thinks that he's just struggling with his anger issues, because he had a bad childhood, blah, blah, and oh he would never actually hurt her or the kids. and like, good for you, but i don't trust like that. genuinely hoping he gets struck by lightning and dies instantly.

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.

[flamestar126]

Dentist/teeth venting lol

[notmyneighbor]

r&d | yog sothoth x female reader

part 1/?

words | 2.8k

tnmn nightmare mode, human experimentation, science fiction, human/vampire relationship, evil dr. w. afton, eventual explicit content, none in this chapter

ao3 link

When you first hear about the new program being offered by your employer, you’re more than a little hesitant.

It’s marketed as a way to help door guardians like yourself decompress after the rigors of screening so many doppelgangers, but you’re wary of the attached disclaimer that your sessions will be monitored and recorded ‘to further aid future candidates.’ It all feels a little too intrusive and boundary crossing for your liking, so it’s a fast decline from you—until you’re offered the extra incentive of a bonus check to sweeten the deal. Money talks, and the promised amount is practically screaming your name. In the end, you volunteer to be one of the pioneers in the study.

That’s how you find yourself in a room that looks more like a doctor’s office than the therapist’s cozy space you’d been expecting, the comfortable couch you’d imagined replaced with a chair that bears a resemblance to a dentist’s contraption more than anything else. Those misgivings and doubts are kicking in again, but then your mind argues back that there’s a good chunk of funds waiting for you at the end of this, so surely it’s not too much of a hardship to bear.

You’re more than a little surprised to see a familiar face after the receptionist guides you to the chair and leaves you to your fate. It’s one of the residents of the building you guard. That engaged physicist that lives on the third floor, W. Afton. You’ve always thought it odd that his first name isn’t revealed on any of his identification paperwork—everything on file only had his first initial listed.

He enters the room briskly, carrying a clipboard and a black case. He closes the door and sets the latter item down on the counter, then settles onto the wheeled stool nearby. You suddenly have the distinct, uncomfortable feeling that this is more of a medical program than a psychiatric one.

You lean forward, your bare arms sticking unpleasantly to the vinyl cushioning beneath you. “Dr. Afton? I think there’s been some misunderstanding. I’m going to just—”

He waves a hand in the air to interrupt you, scrawling something on the clipboard resting on his thighs before his head lifts. The way the fluorescent lighting touches his glasses temporarily obscures his eyes from sight. “Nonsense. You’ve agreed to participate. This is where you’re meant to be.”

“Um, with all due respect, I was led to believe this was a psychiatric program? Aren’t you a physicist?”

“My expertise lies in research, and that’s precisely what you’ve agreed to help the DDD with. You might as well sit back and get comfortable. I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your ability. The truth, mind you; not what you think you should say or what you think I want to hear.”

You shift in your seat, glancing at the closed door and licking your lips nervously. “Are we being monitored? The literature said we would be.”

He lifts a finger and points to the corner of two intersecting walls and you realize there is a camera there. “Visual only, no audio. As promised, this is being kept confidential to assure accuracy and no bias. You can confide in me with confidence.” His lips twitch in an almost smile. His eyeglasses slide down the bridge of his nose slightly and you see slate gray eyes regarding you, until he shoves them back into place and rakes back a tendril of dark hair that’s fallen across his forehead.

“Um…” Something about this is definitely off. A lot of somethings. “Would you mind showing me your documents first, so I can verify it’s really you?”

“Of course it’s really me. How else do you think I got inside this facility? This isn’t one of those wretched downtown apartments,” he says. You’re living in one of those so called wretched downtown apartments, you want to retort, but you bite your tongue. “Still, I suppose that’s what you’re accustomed to. A lingering sort of paranoia about verifying human identity,” he mumbles to himself, writing on the paper in his lap again. “Fine. I’ll humor you, just this once. Just to make you feel a little more comfortable.” He sets the pen and clipboard down and walks to your seat, digging in his pants pocket for a leather billfold. The doctor extracts his identification card and hands it to you. “I trust I don’t need to submit an entry request as well?”

You’d never spoken much to the man, in your tenure as doorman, and you’re beginning to see why. He’s unfriendly and borderline rude. You can feel the impatience and irritation wafting from him. What did Mia, the schoolteacher he is engaged to, see in him? She’s so cheerful and kind. Opposites attract, maybe.

“It looks okay,” you mumble, handing the card back to Afton. He tucks it inside his wallet and the accessory vanishes back into his pocket. “I trust you’re satisfied? Or is there some other protocol you feel you need to follow?”

“No, you’re fine.” You feel your cheeks flushing at his condescending demeanor.

“As I’ve said already.” The soles of his polished dress shoes click loudly on the linoleum as he returns to his seat, retrieving the clipboard and writing utensil again. “Now then, shall we begin? We’re wasting valuable company time.”

“Yes.”

“Good. First question. Have you ever mistakenly misidentified a doppelganger? Or a human?”

“No to both.” It was true. Your track record, thus far, has been impeccable.

A grunt and another mark on the paper. “Have any of the doppelgangers ever threatened violence?”

“A few. Mainly once they’ve been called out.”

“Did any of them ever try to bribe you to gain entry?”

“No. I did have one promise to fully reveal himself if I let him in, and he also stated I must not like my neighbors that much, so it wouldn’t matter if I let him in anyway.”

Afton pauses, his pen freezing mid stroke. “How do you think he arrived at that conclusion? That you did not care for your neighbors? Did you have much discourse with him prior to this?”

“No. No more than the usual standard greeting. He remembered to show his card and his entry request, and they were a perfect forgery, but he wasn’t on the day’s list of expected entrants.”

“Is that when the doppel revealed himself?”

“Yes.”

“Were you frightened?”

“Of course. But the barrier is there as soon as I sound the alarm. And the DDD cleaners always come right away.”

Some more writing follows this. Afton presses on the metal at the top of the board to release the pages and turns the top one over, releasing the spring and snapping the holder back into place. “Do you ever have trouble sleeping at night?”

You shrug. “Sometimes.”

“Do you find yourself thinking about your job, even when you are off duty?”

“I guess so.”

The physicist’s lips press in a thin line. “Keep your responses to definitive yes or no answers, please.” He jerks on the tail end of his necktie to straighten it. It is a deep shade of eggplant today.

“Yes,” you say, knowing your tone is definitely a little sharp, but you’re unable to help it. You’ve been on edge ever since the man walked into the room.

“What sorts of things do you think about?”

“Wondering if I made all the right decisions. What the next day will bring. What would happen if the doppels got better at disguising themselves and blending in. Where they come from in the first place.”

Afton taps the end of the pen against the paper thoughtfully. “Do you think that will happen? That they’ll eventually be successful? That you’ll make the wrong decision?”

“I hope not. But yes, it’s a concern of mine.”

“A fear, too, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose so.” He glares at you. “Yes,” you clarify, gritting your teeth.

“I see.” He writes briefly and then sets the items back on the counter, this time reaching for the black case as he rises. His back blocks the contents from view.

“So now what happens?”

“You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain, so now it’s time we fulfilled ours. Providing an outlet for these pent up fears of yours.”

“Which means?”

Lightning fast, Afton slips something into his lab coat pocket. He turns to face you, and the smile he has is nothing short of sinister, a kind of rictus, as if he is one of the doppels, trying the motion out without understanding its purpose.

“You’re finally going to get caught up on some of that sleep you’ve been missing. You know, because you’ve been so worried about the doppelgangers.”

“I didn’t say—”

“Now, now. None of that. It’s too late to change your answers. It’s all been documented.” Almost casually he reaches out to rest a hand on the arm of your chair and you hear a clicking sound. In the blink of an eye twin metal bands snap over your wrists.

“What the fuck?!” You struggle against the restraints, your heels flailing and digging in uselessly as your squirm, trying to escape. “Let me go!”

“You agreed to this, remember?”

“To be restrained? No way. Get me out of this thing right now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet. One more step to go.” His voice is so calm, so placid. He’s making it sound as if this is the most normal thing in the world. His hand disappears into his coat pocket and you finally see what he’d hidden there earlier: a syringe with some eerie glowing fluid. “You’re going to want to hold still for this. It would be so unfortunate if I missed and had to puncture your skin more than once.” He does not look the least bit remorseful. Instead, there is a look of almost glee on his normally solemn features. Excitement. He’s enjoying this.

“You can’t inject me with that! I don’t consent! Help!”

“You’re wasting your breath. Sound proof room. Confidential, remember? As I told you earlier. And you did consent. We have your signature on file. A legally binding contract.” His fingers curl around your elbow, turning the joint slightly so he has access to the larger vein in the hollow of your upper extremity,

“This can’t possibly be legal. You’re not a medical doctor! You don’t even know how to give an injection!

”Do you think the doppels are the only ones who know how to forge an ID?” His voice is a low, sultry rasp. Gloating, now.

You gape at him. “What the…who are you?”

“The name is real enough. I suppose we’re better acquainted now, so you can learn my first name. Not that you’ll remember any of this later. It’s William.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s what I do. My job. Seeing this through. Experimenting. Research. Enough chatter.” You feel the tip of the needle laid against your skin and you instantly freeze, holding your breath.

“Please, stop, William,” you implore gently, hoping this approach might prove more effective than yelling and struggling, knowing all the same it’s a futile attempt.

Afton’s gray eyes meet yours. “Sweet dreams. See you when you get back.” Pain. Heat inside your arm, then liquid ice.

Darkness.

***

The first thing you smell is brimstone.

You’re not even sure how you recognize that scent. Your eyes open and you find yourself in the security booth you work in every day.

But it’s different.

Four eyes, one at each corner of the window, stare back at you, following your hand movements. The walls are spattered with blood. The papers and files are crumpled and stained. There’s an ominous looking fluid dripping from the air vent. The handle of the phone looks like it’s coated in some unpleasant substance. There are holes in the plaster and some of the wiring for the door panel control is exposed, the ends fraying. You shudder and the eyes follow this motion too, ever attentive.

A tapping sound draws your attention back to the window.

You have a prospective entrant outside the glass, their hand resting on that clear panel, which has several spidery cracks, you notice with a growing sense of alarm. There are claws clicking on that smudged surface that needed to be wiped down with ammonia desperately, the owner bearing a strong resemblance to the man you know as Francis Mosses.

Alike in some ways, such as the general build and facial structure, but different, too. These eyes are golden and red rimmed. He has pierced ears, silver spikes driven into each. A gold nose ring. A choker with spikes to match the earrings, with a padlock dangling from his throat. Whereas the milkman always wears a white uniform, this figure is clad in a black dress shirt with some suspicious stains on his left chest. There are also a pair of fangs poking from the barrier of his lips, and your first immediate thought is that this pale figure is a vampire.

Ludicrous, right? But then again, is it any more wild than the eyes that are watching you from the window frame, the obviously trippy effects of whatever junk Afton has injected you with taking hold, making you have this strange nightmare?

The figure slides an ID card and entry request into the slot and you want to laugh at that mundane formality. As if you’re going to let a bloodsucker in. Yes, see, it says it right there on his paperwork. He went out to suck blood. Vampire.

“You’re new, human.”

Your eyes flick up to the creature’s face. “Have there been many others here?”

“A few.” He nods towards the room you’re standing inside. “You gonna hit the buzzer and let me in?”

“I…” You glance down at his name. Yog Sothoth. He lives in a different apartment than Francis. A different floor entirely, if these documents are accurate. “This is just a bad dream. It has to be. None of this is real.”

“It’s real. That DDD from your world found a way to create a portal here. Drugged you and sent you through it, just like the others.”

You frown. “It says here astral plane? What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it says on the label. You’re in an alternate realm that can only be reached through spiritual transcendence. In short, your mind is here, your body elsewhere. At least, I think that’s how it works.”

“This is crazy.” You pause. “What happened to the others? The humans who got here before me?”

“I couldn’t tell you. They disappear fairly quickly. Not sure who’s responsible. It wasn’t me,” he adds quickly. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I just take a little at a time. And I don’t discriminate. Blood is blood, though I must say your species is a lot cleaner than some of the other riffraff around here.”

“If it’s only your mind that’s here, why do you need to feed at all?”

“Mmm, doesn’t work that way. Me and the other residents, we are actually, physically here. It’s just you humans that are straddling both worlds.”

“I do have a physical form here, though. I can interact with things.” You lift up Yog’s entry request to demonstrate. “This makes no sense.”

The vampire shrugs. “I don’t make the rules, I just exist by them. So, am I good to come in?”

“There are really doppels here, too?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“How do I get back home?”

“I don’t know, exactly. Maybe the DDD will bring you back when the experiment or whatever the hell they’re doing is over? The other humans I spoke with seemed as in the dark about it as you are.”

“The DDD,” you murmur darkly. You’ve been proud to work for them. Glad to be able to help your fellow neighbors. Now, though? You hardly know what to think.

“Not sure which is worse, to be honest.”

You grunt in agreement. Afton had said something about seeing you when you got back, so you have to believe that there will actually be a return trip. There didn’t seem to be much purpose behind just sending you along one way and then not gaining any knowledge from that venture. He’d also mentioned you wouldn't remember what had happened in the office with him, which also makes you wonder: are you doomed to just keep repeating this experiment? Unwittingly participating because you’ll have no recollection of the DDD’s seeming betrayal? What was the point of any of this? You slide Yog’s things back to him, forcing yourself to focus on the creature standing across from you. “You’re chattier than Francis.”

“Francis?”

“The human that looks like you in my world. You seem like you’re a good person like he is. Maybe that’s the same in every universe.” You push the button to release the lock on the door. “I guess I might as well let you in.”

The bloodsucker hesitates. “I hope you make it back home safely. If I don’t see you tomorrow, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

You lock the door behind him.

[stop-talking]

Open wide

Mike Schmidt x gender-neutral reader

2.8k words

Tags: 18+, no use of y/n, smut, porn with plot, extremely unrealistic scenario but it's funny, mike is a horny bastard & a sub, handjob (mike receiving), post-movie, mike's POV!

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Mike can't even remember the last time he went to the dentist.

Well, he CAN remember, he just doesn't want to. He was a child the last time he went, and only bits and pieces of the experience stuck with him. An old man poking bony gloved fingers into his mouth, having his teeth scraped with a hook, and being scolded for not brushing good enough.

Yeah. The dentist is not a fond memory for Mike. That's part of the reason he hasn't bothered to go in over ten years. (The other part being that he's spent most of early adulthood broke as fuck; and values groceries over trips to the oral hygienist.)

But with his new job, and the healthcare benefits that come along with it... well, he really has no excuse not to go.

So, he sits in a small room with blue walls and ocean-themed décor, squirming on the weird lounge chair. There's a giant mirror over his head, and he can't help but be reminded of those funhouse mirrors at the circus. The ones that twist and contort your face in an unsettling way.

"Hey, Mr. Schmidt, right?" You make your way through the door, scanning over a clipboard.

Is this the dentist? Mike scrambles to sit up in the awkwardly-reclined chair and hold out a hand for you to shake.

"Uh, just 'Mike' is fine." He gives you a weak smile and a firm handshake before leaning back against the chair once more.

You introduce yourself as a dental assistant, and when he thinks about it, that makes more sense. You look young, probably close to his own age. And... rather attractive, actually.

Fuck. Did you just ask him a question?

"Sorry, I... I'm not sure..." He stutters, doing his best not to squirm under your gaze.

This seems to amuse you, because you try and fail to suppress a chuckle. Shit. Was that the wrong answer?

"You're not sure what flavor of toothpaste you want, Mike?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Mike sputters again, making a complete fool of himself. Before he can get out a complete thought, you cut him off.

"It's okay. Want me to just pick for you?"

He nods.

"Alright then, you look like a watermelon kind of guy. Is that fine?"

Another nod.

You smile and pull on a pair of blue gloves, matching your blue scrubs.

"Something tells me you haven't been here before."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes... and no. I read it on your medical record just now." You give him a teasing smile and hold up the clipboard you'd been pouring over when you walked in.

Mike laughs nervously at what he's pretty sure was supposed to be a joke, and watches as you pull up a chair.

"I haven't exactly been going to regular checkups." He confesses.

"Well then, let's see what we're working with. Open up for me?"

He squints as you turn on a harsh overhead light attached to the mirror and angle it down so it shines right in his face. Damnit, what is this? An interrogation?

"Open up." You repeat, not asking this time.

Fuck. Why is that kind of...? Ugh, no. Not even going there. Mike tentatively opens his mouth, still blinking through the interrogation-esque lighting above him.

"There you go. A little wider, now."

Your fingers immediately find their way into his mouth, prying his jaws open further.

Mike's eyes go wider than his jaw when you pull out a hook and start scraping it against his teeth. What the fuck? He's feeling more and more like this is some kind of torture and interrogation ritual.

"I know, hun. No one likes the hook. Just relax." You coo, placing a hand on the side of his face and wedging your thumb between his teeth.

He takes a deep breath and melts back into the chair, letting himself be soothed by your voice. Mike tries to focus on your face above him instead of the horrible metal scraping his bones. The backlighting creates a halo around your head as you lean over him, reminding him of an angel.

You seem to notice his staring, because you smile down at him.

"So, tell me about yourself, Mike."

Mike's brow furrows in confusion. How the hell is supposed to answer that with a mouthful of latex-covered fingers and metal torture instruments?

"Uhhh..." He lets out a strained gargle, the only sound he can really make in this moment.

"Interesting..." You chuckle, still scraping away at his teeth.

"Tell me more."

Oh. You're teasing him. Fuck that.

Mike rolls his eyes, trying to make it clear he's not in the mood.

"Sassy, are we? Careful. I do have a hook in your mouth."

Christ. Are you threatening him now? Is this how trips to the dentist are supposed to go? Mike has no idea. So, he lets out another grunt.

"Your teeth actually look really nice. You brush at least twice a day?"

Mike nods slightly, scared to move too much with the hook scraping dangerously close to his gums.

"Good, good. Your teeth are so straight and bright."

Now you're complimenting him? Mike can feel his brain go fuzzy as he stares up into your eyes. The paper mask you're wearing covers the lower half of your face, sure, but your eyes are... entrancing.

He tries to say a quick "thanks", but with your thumb still wedged between his teeth... it comes out as more of an "Aahhh". And sounds suspiciously like a moan. Damnit.

"Got something to say?" You laugh softly, removing your fingers and tools from his mouth.

Mike takes the opportunity to close his mouth and feel over his teeth with his tongue. They feel... different.

"Just, uh, thanks..." He mumbles.

"Of course, you're doing so well."

Fuck. Are his jeans getting tighter?

Mike tries to subtly adjust himself while you turn to grab something off the nearby table. God damnit. This wouldn't happen if he wasn't so damn touch starved.

You put a little hose in his mouth and explain it's to rinse his mouth out. Or something like that. Mike isn't really listening, instead focusing solely on calming the fuck down.

"Oh, and sorry if I'm talking too much. I just transferred over from a pediatric office, so I'm used to having to distract my patients while I work. You probably don't need that, do you?"

He just gargles a response, mouth filling with water.

"Wait, here, don't swallow that."

Mike can't help but think he'd swallow anything if you told him to. Ugh. His jeans are definitely getting too tight.

You stick a different hose in his mouth, and it sucks out the watery saliva mixture.

"You're fine... I haven't been to the dentist since I was a kid, anyways."

"Really?" You ask, eyes lighting up as you lean over him again.

"Y-Yeah."

"Oh, but your teeth look so nice! Keep doing whatever you're doing, hun." You cup his face in your hands, leaning in close and gently pushing his lips back with your thumbs for a better look at his teeth.

Mike squirms slightly, a little intimidated by your firm grip on his face and intense scrutiny of his mouth. He tries to tug the hem of his hoodie down in an attempt to hide his growing boner. Fuck, he feels like such a pervert.

Of course, his movement only draws your attention down to his... ''problem area''.

You must be pretending not to notice, because your eyes flick back over to the table. As you get up to grab something, you casually bump the door with your hip and it swings shut.

What's that for? Mike is too embarrassed to ask, so he just waits patiently as you make your way back over with a toothbrush.

"Open for me." You playfully tap his lips with a finger, and Mike does as asked.

"Good, good... we're almost done here."

Mike feels a lot more relaxed like this. Your voice is soothing, and he stares up into your eyes as you brush his teeth. It's strange to have someone else do it for him, but hey, at least you're not using the damn hook anymore.

After a minute or so of this, he starts to calm down, the tent in his pants dying down as well. Thank god.

"Alright, gonna rinse your mouth again. If you have any needs or concerns regarding your teeth, now's the time to tell me."

Mike gently shakes his head no, mouth filling with water as you rinse his teeth with the little hose.

"You sure? Nothing else you want?"

Are you... flirting with him? Or is this just how these things go? Mike's head spins as you put the toothbrush back in his mouth again.

"Just gonna brush your tongue... Say 'ahh' for me!"

Mike lets out a weak ''ahh'', that, again, sounds extremely similar to a moan. Fuck.

You slowly brush his tongue, going further and further back. Mike starts to shift in his seat, wondering just how much of his tongue he's supposed to be brushing. He certainty never goes this far, it's almost at the back of his throat... Still, he tits his head back slightly, letting you go even deeper.

"Damn. No gag reflex, or just used to this sort of thing?" You tease, smirking so obviously he can see it through the mask.

Okay, yeah. You're definitely flirting with him.

Mike just sputters and chokes in response, unable to speak while practically deepthroating the damn toothbrush.

"Sorry, let me get that out..."

When his mouth is finally his own again, free of intrusive fingers and oral hygiene instruments, he clears his throat. There's a familiar tightness in his jeans, and he's sure by now that you've noticed.

"Uhh... I..."

You take off your mask and he can finally see your whole face again. Your smile is attractive, no doubt, but also a little... hungry? You want something from him.

Mike isn't sure he could resist if you asked.

"So, you're sure there's nothing else... bothering you?" You ask, eyes trailing down to the tent in his jeans.

Ah, fuck. There's no hiding it now, huh? Mike tries to at least sit up slightly in the chair, but ends up a squirming mess instead.

"I..." He starts, swallowing hard.

"Are you offering...?"

As if to answer his unspoken question, you stand up from your chair and throw a leg over his.

He watches with wide eyes as you inch up his legs, straddling him and sitting just below his crotch.

"What do you think?"

Holy shit. What kind of a question is that? He "thinks" this is the hottest thing that's ever happened to him.

"More." He mumbles, bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your thighs.

That's all the confirmation you need, apparently. Before he can even process what's happening, you're grinding against his clothed cock.

Mike moves his hands up to your hips, watching as you remove the blue latex gloves with your teeth. God, that's got to be the most arousing thing he's ever seen, and he's not even sure why. He feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle. Is he really that goddamn desperate?

You brace your hands against his chest and lean in close, even more so than when you were prodding your fingers in his mouth.

Fuck. Mike decides he is definitely that desperate.

"You want this, don't you?" You ask sweetly, hot breath brushing against his lips.

He nods eagerly. Yes, he wants this. More than anything.

"Use your words, hun."

"I want this." He whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours while you grind on him. "I want you."

"I know." You whisper, bridging the small remaining gap between the two of you.

Mike kisses you back in earnest, moaning into your mouth when he finally feels your tongue slip between his lips.

He'd be content to stay like this forever, if his cock wasn't absolutely aching in his jeans. The grinding feels nice, yes, but he doesn't want to cum like this.

When you finally pull away and sit back up on him, he's left gasping for breath. Holy shit. Is this really happening?

"You really thought I wouldn't notice?" You ask, humming happily as you unzip his jeans.

Mike stammers out a response as you tug his pants down, squirming to help you get them off faster. He wishes you'd take the boxers off too, but he's not gonna push his luck.

"I-I couldn't help It... You're so..." He just looks up at you with pure admiration, letting his hands slide down your thighs.

"...perfect." Yeah, that's just about the only word describe you. No other would do you justice, not with how amazing you look on top of him like this.

"And you're already leaking."

Mike whimpers as you grope his dick, palming at it through his boxers. Fuck, you're not wrong. He can see the wet spot growing on his underwear. He tightens his grip on your thighs, desperate to feel you.

"More." He chokes out. "Please."

"Hmm... should I give you more?" You taunt him, giving his aching cock a firm squeeze through the fabric of his underwear.

"Yes!"

Mike is nearly shouting at this point, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He can only pray the room is somewhat soundproof.

"Well, I guess you have been good for me..."

You slowly peel down his boxers, and his dick springs up to slap against his stomach. A steady stream of precum is leaks from the tip, and his back arches from the sudden sensation.

"Fuck... yes... good... so, so good for you..." He bucks his hips up into nothing, desperately pulling you down his lap by your thighs.

He isn't thinking straight at this point. It doesn't matter that you're at work. It doesn't matter you're fully clothed. He needs you on his dick. NOW.

"Woah, woah... slow down, hun." Laughing, you take his hands by the wrists and move them to the armrests.

He doesn't resist, throwing his head back and groaning. He'd let you do whatever you want to him at this point. He just wants to cum.

"Please..." He whimpers, gripping the armrests tightly as your hand inches towards his cock.

"You gonna be good for me? And wait till I give you permission to cum?"

He nods, still bucking his hips up into your hand as you wrap your soft hand around his length.

"Say it." You demand, still just holding it, unmoving as he slips further and further into pure desperation.

"I'll be good f'you. I'll wait. I promise. S'good..."

Mike mumbles a barely-coherent response, half nonsense as he fucks your hand with even more intensity. He's losing it already, and you've haven't even started-

Fuck.

You start to jerk him off at a moderate pace, hand moving in synch with his hips.

"That feel good, hm?"

He just moans a response, too fucked out to form words. His hips stutter and he nearly comes just from the way you're talking to him.

When you take your hand away suddenly, he groans, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. You can't end this for him. Not yet.

Thankfully, you didn't seem eager to put a stop to things. You slide down his lap, resting right up against his cock.

"I swear, if you cum on my uniform, I'll make you lick it all up."

Shit. Mike nearly does just that as you lean down and furiously make out with him. It's the toothbrush all over again, with the way your tongue is punching down his throat. He's never felt this desired before.

One of your hands gently tugs at his curls, and the other pulls his lower back up into an arch as you grind against him. Fuck, If you don't slow down...

"I'm g-gonna... gonna cum..." He breaks the kiss, whining and desperately pushing back on your hips, trying to keep from finishing. He wants to be good for you. He really does.

"Do it." You whisper, moving down to kiss his neck as he whimpers.

"Cum for me."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike wakes up in a cold sweat, trembling and gasping for air. Shit, he had been suffocating with his face in a pillow.

And... fuck. Probably jutting his hips into the mattress, too.

He doesn't even have to look at his shorts to know they're ruined. Damnit. Another wet dream. At this point, he almost preferred the reoccurring nightmares. Almost.

Hey, his next dentist appointment is in... what, three months? Maybe this time he'd work up the nerve to ask you out.

Probably not.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: I'M SORRY. Literally no one asked for this. Probably no one but me has ever gone "haha what if Mike has a praise kink and gets hard at the dentist". But it was so funny to me?? I had to stop what I was working on and write it IMMIDEATELY. I hope it wasn't too deranged.

I like to imagine his little dream is at least half true. Like, he's touch starved and ended up with an over-friendly oral hygienist who joked with him a little too much. And it made him feel things. But everything from the point of the door being closed and onwards is just his own twisted fantasy.

[hell-drabbles]

Lucifer 2

Summary: At first you though Lucifer somehow got water on his shirt. But then you noticed that the stains were only on his nipples.

(Meant to write this sooner but I was on stand-by mode waiting for my dentist appointment. More embittered companion!)

Lately, Lucifer’s button-up shirts haven’t been fitting him right. Not that he ever bothers to wear them right. That devil can make any formal looking clothing seem like pajamas. Anyway, point being, his usual loose fitting clothing was… well he was spilling out of them practically.

“You gaining more weight?” You walked up from behind him, clapping your hands on his shoulders just to grab his attention. Lucifer jumped and the topmost button flew right off. “Ah, sorry.”

Lucifer hissed but it was so half-assed that you didn’t bother backing off. You just slumped forward and let your weight rest on his head, avoiding his oddly placed horn of course. Lucifer sighed, huffed, and relaxed once more, too sleepy to let out any of his thoughts.

“Huh, yeah you did get something,” his shirt isn’t fitting right anymore, “shouldn’t you get some new clothes? Wouldn’t kill you to at least be comfy.”

You know a couple people that wouldn’t mind tight clothing to sleep in, but Lucifer wasn’t one of those people. While he isn’t part of the baggy party, he’s definitely the kind that has his clothes at least one size too big. So for a button to pop with just a flinch is very weird.

It is a nice day after all. The greenhouse wasn’t too moist or hot, the air smelled great with morning dew and the sunlight oh so delicate. You actually came here just to grab a seat and have a nap somewhere, just let some of the hours go by since it’s so rare for anything to be quiet in Hell.

“Mm.” Lucifer flinched when your arms rested against his chest.

“Oh crap, did I hurt you?” You stood up, then blinked when you saw a wet residue on both your arms. “Did you spill water on yourself?”

It dried off quickly, but what was left was plain sticky.

“It’s not…” Lucifer started but trailed off, breathing just a little heavily.

You look back over his shoulder and looked down. Two stains right where his nipples are, dribbling through and down his shirt until his stomach was soaked. With every breath, Lucifer’s grown breasts heaved, veins visible right under his pale skin. You pressed a finger on the exposed skin, just a light press, and milk practically streamed out from his left tit.

“It’s not water.” Lucifer managed to finish, looking up at you as he dug his nails into the plush cushion of his chair. “…I woke up like this. I’ll have it go away tomorrow if you don’t like it.”

…so that’s what this was about.

“So our late night talks weren’t just late night talks, huh. You were fishing for something to give me.” You honestly thought that Lucifer was just one of those people that ask weird questions at the dead of night. You didn’t mind entertaining them, because it’s funnier to keep him going. Eventually he started to go into fetish territory and you, of course, told him, as you would any friend.

“You like being entertained, right?” Lucifer settled deeper into his chair then unbuttoned his shirt. From their tight confines, Lucifer’s breasts were freed and flopped down with their weight, lines of milk tracing down his tits and over his ribs. “You can grab as much as you want.”

“You really do try your best to make me happy, huh?” You couldn’t ask for a better friend.

[minnielvrr]

maybe you could do one when seungmin still has his braces on and is supposed to get them off but when he goes to the dentist they tell him he has to have it on for longer and he gets upset and his members try to cheer him up in different ways and then they eventually tickle him or like Changbin or Chan corner him in his room and tickle him tell he admits that his smile is cute and will stop covering it to

Thank you for the request!! 🤗💖🩷💞 So I fused this with another idea I had in mind, I hope that's okay🩷

I love this idea so much cuz Seungmin was simply adorable with braces and I'll never understand anyone who disagrees ���🥺

Braces

Lee: Seungmin Lers: Jeongin, Felix, Chan, Minho Word Count: 3k!!

A/N: Sorry anon, ik this took some time. This is a little plot heavy🤭Hope you enjoy ~~🤗🩷

A part of Seungmin expected it when his dentist told him that he’d have to keep his braces in for a few more weeks. Their hectic schedules had forced him to push back a number of appointments and that seemed to have taken its toll.

He sighed for the umpteenth time after returning to the dorm, staring balefully at his reflection on his phone. It was as though he couldn’t escape this hell. He hated how his smile looked with them on, even though many stays and his bandmates had made it a point to remind him otherwise.

The hate comments he got threw any and all compliments to the wind and he’d recently been avoiding even looking at himself in the mirror. It was just too much. As he lay on his bed, absentmindedly fiddling with the device in his hands, Jeongin and Felix knocked and entered.

They were armed with handfuls of snacks and sweets and all of the foods the puppy had mentioned he was craving all week. The two dumped it on the bed, climbing on to cuddle the puppy. “Is everything okay hyung?” Innie asked quietly, face nuzzled into Minnie’s shoulder. The puppy hummed, wrapping his arms around the two cuties.

“Want a snack, Minnie?” The chick offered him a packet of gummy worms, dangling one right in his face with a goofy grin. Seungmin accepted it with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, chewing quietly. Well, that was a bust. The pup looked lost in thought, a frown creasing his handsome features.

Felix who was hugging him like a koala, leaned in to whisper in the pup’s ear. “A buff birdy told me you were upset cause the doc said you’ll have to wait to get your braces removed.” Jeongin gasped. ”Is that true hyungie? But you look so cute like this!”

Seungmin sighed again, killing Changbin would have to wait for later. He had whined to his hyung the entire ride back to the dorm and Bin had snitched. “Minnie? Do you hate your smile?” The sudden question had Seungmin staring blankly at Felix. “Why do you think that Lix?” He asked, deliberately trying to ignore the pang in his heart.

The blonde fished his phone out of his pocket, eventually turning the screen towards the puppy. The two carefully watched his expression souring when the video played. It was a compilation of all the moments where Seungmin would find some way to cover the lower half of his face using plushies, his hands or sweater paws.

Felix’s eyes were starting to get teary. How had they missed it for so long? Seungmin hastily patted his head, trying to come up with an excuse to convince the older that ‘it wasn't so bad’.

“It's not like that guys. I just- it just happened. It's not like- what stays are saying is true after all…” He trailed off in a small voice. "Those people are not stays hyung!" Jeongin said fiercely, gently cupping Seungmin's face. Felix almost cried then, but deciding to save the waterworks for later he yelled, “Chan hyung! Minho hyung!” Seungmin jumped in place at the sheer volume, eyes snapping to Lixie's in alarm.

In the next moment, the puppy found himself completely immobile. Jeongin was holding onto his wrists as if his life depended on it, while Felix leveraged his entire body weight to keep Seungmin pinned beneath him.

He shook his head, trying to free his hands and push the other off him to escape. He knew he wouldn't be able to run once Chan came in. With renewed strength, he ripped his hands free from Innie, mumbling apologies to the younger as he focused on Felix. Minnie had just managed to wrestle a very clingy chick off him, bolting through the door, running straight into the leader with a curious kitten right behind him.

“Shit!” He cursed silently, fighting the kangaroo, only to end up thrown over his shoulder in mere seconds, Minho slapping his butt as punishment.

Chan laid him down on the bed, keeping a tight grip around Seungmin’s waist as he and Minho watched the video on Felix’s phone. He understood the problem immediately.

Minho was already taking off Minnie’s socks, always ready for a nice, long wrecking. He sighed exasperatedly. “It's true hyung, you guys can just be honest with me. I know my smile doesn’t look as nice as everyone else’s.” He sounded so defeated, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes at the admission.

Chan’s expression was stormy, eyes narrowed and lips in a tight line. “I see. So that’s how you’ve seen yourself this whole time. I guess we’ll just have to convince you really well then hm.” His voice was deep and a little angry.

The puppy seemed to have taken that anger the wrong way, however, suddenly bursting into tears, face twisting as he sobbed. The four looked at him in surprise and Chan quickly gathered the sobbing boy into his arms and held him tight. “Hey, hey, hey. Baby I’m not mad at you. I promise I’m not, love. I’m mad at the people who put all that nonsense in your pretty head.”

They stayed like that a while, Felix leaving the room for a little and coming back with a small pouch in his hand. Minho grinned wide when he saw it, cracking his knuckles. “Hyung why don’t we show Seungminie how beautiful his smile looks?” Chan smirked back at him over Minnie’s shoulder, gently laying him back down on the bed and moving the pup’s hands to lay above his head.

Now, Seungmin was smart. He had known exactly what the four were planning, but unfortunately for him, they were much, much stronger. His hands were soon bound to the headboard by an eager Felix, any struggles and protests useless. His t-shirt was pushed up and Minho straddled his thighs. Grabbing a bottle of oil from Felix’s pouch he poured a generous amount right into Seungmin’s naval.

Chan just sat back and watched for now, grinning at the pup when he gave him his best puppy eyes. The leader shook his head firmly at him. If that was really the way Seungmin had seen himself this entire time, then they needed to show him that it wasn’t true. It was heartbreaking to see one of their maknaes being so insecure about such a beautiful part of themselves.

“Ugh this is so stupid.” He rolled his eyes at the scoffs it earned him. “Let me go!”

“Did you think we were just playing around here baby?” Minho asked quietly. “This isn’t a joke love. Don’t worry, though, you’ll love your smile soon enough.”

The puppy bit his lips, trying his best to muffle his sounds when the mischievous kitten dipped his pinky into his belly button, then spread the oil all over his exposed tummy with his nails, making it tickle so much! Felix and Jeongin sat on either side of his head, their sly grins promising nothing good. The maknae got ahold of his elbows, pressing them down on the bed so that the puppy was helpless to Lixie’s plan.

As Innie held his hands, he rubbed soothing circles on the inner side of Minnie's forearm. Even that felt ticklish to the sensitive pup and he tried wiggling away, much to the amusement of the fox. “What’s wrong Seungmin hyung? Does even this tickle you?” Seungmin’s flustered expression had him surprised. “Does this even count as tickling? I’m barely touching you!”

“Shut up! Thihis isn’t fahahair!! Ir’s fohour against one!” “Aww babes, all is fair in love and war. And we love you sooo much, so that means we get to tickle you just as much!” Came Lixie’s sassy answer, his fingers starting to circle around the puppy’s underarms.

When the actual torment began, Seungmin tried his hardest to slide down the bed but the restraints and Jeongin’s hands held him securely. All his struggles seemed to do was make his shirt ride up higher, exposing more skin that Minho happily took advantage of. The oil had the kitten’s fingers skating over the swells and sinks of the younger’s sensitive torso.

“Shihihihit! Ahahahahahah.” He tried to take it at first, squirming lightly and simply letting the slow, scratchy fingers reduce him into childish giggles.

But the longer it drew on for, the more sensitive he felt and he wiggled weakly, his body to having lost all strength, pleas falling along freely through his melodious laughter. “Hehehehe hyu-hyuhung, Minho hyung plehehease chanhange chahahhange spahohots!! It tihihickles sohoho bahahad!!”

Minho took pity on him and let up on Minnie's belly, keeping in mind to revisit that spot in a bit. A hand ghosted over his now bare waist, Seungmin's breath hitching in anticipation. “Hehehehehehe nohohoo,” he pleaded sweetly, eyes forming little crescents with how wide his smile was.

“Hehehe yehes!” Minho mocked, spreading the oil around before pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft skin. The puppy’s body jolted, back arching only to come crashing down when the evil kitten vibrated his fingers, laughing diabolically. Witho

At Chan’s suggestion, they paused for a break. Despite having just started, Seungmin seemed to need some time to adjust. The leader waited till his breath steadied, then brought his hands up to hover over the puppy. He air tickled him for a while, teasing the poor lee when he flinched and yelped and shrieked even though Chan hadn’t laid a finger on him. Then he dived in. Just him as the others rested their hands. The leader was relentless, changing spots so fast Seungmin’s tickle-fried brain couldn’t keep up.

The puppy desperately kicked out his legs, accidentally tangling them in the blankets and making finding himself even more immobile. Jeongin snickered at him, reaching over to rain pokes at any bit of his hyung that he could reach. “Channie hyung! Chahahannihihie hyhuhung…”

“Oh, it’s Channie hyung now, is it?” The leader teased, amusedly.

Then Felix joined in, tickling his tummy as he collected some oil, dipping a wriggling finger into his navel and swirling around until he was satisfied with the pup’s reaction, then he would smooth the oil over his pits and slowly scratch at the skin. “Lihihix, Lihihihix please ohoho my GAHAHAD!”

And Seungmin wasn’t sure if it was the oil or the fact that he could barely budge or both but it tickled a hundred times worse, bringing him to want to surrender but he held back. His armpits were usually a bad spot but it felt much worse now when Innie kept him immobile, no matter how much he struggled.

Minnie’s eyes squeezed shut from how much it tickled, uncontrollable giggles slipping easily from his lips, braces in full visibility. No matter which way he twisted or how hard he tugged at his bound hands, he was completely and truly helpless.

They slowed down, allowing the puppy to breathe through his soft airy laughter. Eventually, they paused to give the puppy a break, removing the restraints on his hands, giggling and pulling him back when he tried to crawl away.

“Nuh uh, you aren’t going anywhere till we’re done with you pup.” Chan patted him on the head. “Yeah, we still have part 2 to complete after all!” Everyone looked at Minho in surprise.

“What’s part 2 hyung?” Jeongin asked curiously. “We’re going to have Seungminie, here see just how pretty his smile is and then he’ll finally admit that his smile is the prettiest in the world! Right Minnie?” He turned towards a dumbfounded pup, “You’ll be good and say it for us, right?”

At the lack of response, Minho sent a quick scribble to Minnie’s side. “W-what? No it’s not, hyung!” A round of sighs filled the space. “Get him!” And then it was chaos once more. But now poor Seungmin was weakened from the previous torture.

For the finale, his hands were yanked behind him by Innie and his body was maneuvered to sit facing the tall mirror that sat by the side of his bed, his feet dangling off the side of the bed and back resting on Innie’s chest.

He stared at his wrecked appearance. His hair was a complete mess, clothes ruffled and his face was so red. He looked away with a shuddering breath. The half-smile he’d had when Innie had restrained him fell right off his face.

But then Felix’s fingers wormed their way into his ribs and he was cackling, trying to lean away but the maknae had a death grip on him. He could only within the space of the mirror. The pup caught fleeting glances at the bright smile on his face. He looked happy!

“Hehehehehe ihihit tihihickles~” It made him feel warm inside that his bandmates were so worried about him and that they were adamant enough to be firm in this. They knew Seungmin always pretended to hate the affection. He was truly grateful to have them in his life.

Then Chan and Minho joined and every thought Seungmin had had in his head vanished. There was a devious smile playing on Chan’s lips. The three lers watched as he sat on the floor and caught Seungmin’s flailing legs.

The puppy was still too incapacitated to notice, laughing and shrieking his little head off as the others kept up their attacks. Then the fourth pair of hands joined in and he went ballistic. Blunt nails dragged over his bare soles, courtesy of Minho, scribbling over his arches and scratching at the balls of his feet. “FAHAHAHAHAHAHA…” He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, laughter quickly cutting off.

With the way Jeongin held him, Seungmin was forced to watch himself laughing his head off as the trio absolutely wrecked him. Finally unable to look at the braces that seemed to glare at him through his reflection, he did the only thing he could.

Cackling and squirming, he turned his face to the side but immediately felt gentle hands holding his chin and tilting his head in the direction of the mirror again. “Uh uh, this isn’t gonna stop until you really look at yourself and admit the truth.”

“Youhuhu guhuhuys SUCK!!” The puppy was insanely flustered. It had been a while since he’s really looked at his face without any makeup on, his bangs shading his eyes and cheeks pink in embarrassment. but the puppy (not so) secretly loved the attention.

His face burned, hair disheveled, tear tracks shining over red cheeks as he writhed in their hold and begged. His smile was so wide, braces in full view and anyone could see how absolutely precious the sight was. And Seungmin couldn’t think of anything to say. For the first time in forever his mind was silent and his voice was loud. He laughed and laughed and laughed so joyously.

“Say it Seungminnie~ Unless you want this to go on?” Minho taunted him, a maniacal smile playing on his lips.

Seungmin hesitated, not wanting to admit such a thing but the longer he stalled, the more unbearable everything felt. And when Felix plunged his small index finger into his navel, Seungmin gave in. “Okahahay okahay, STHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHA. PLEASE.”

Jeongin released Seungmin’s hands, the pup’s arms clamping to his sides immediately. Innie started tickling his shoulders and collarbones, dragging longish nails up and down his back and watching as the puppy threw his head back and squirmed, the sweetest of giggles spilling from his lips like honey. His wide smile showed of his braces and everyone in the room couldn’t help but coo at the adorable sight.

“Ihihihinie ihihihit soho bahahahahahad!!” “Aww, is hyungie too ticklish for this?”

Their fingers maneuvered expertly to have him in tears. His limbs felt like jelly, and despite not being pinned any longer, he could still do nothing. There was no strength behind his hands as they pushed and pulled at the hands running all over his body. “HEHEHEHEHE...”

“Do you still hate your smile? Do you? Hm, do you?” Minho kept asking him, partly to annoy the puppy. Minnie shook his head, crying out, “No! No, I don’t, I dohoHOHON’T AHAHAHAHAHA…” “Then say it, admit that your smile is the prettiest in the whole world.”

Fingers skittered up his legs and all his resolve crumbled. “What about riiiiiight here?” Minho asked, fingers squeezing Minnie's thighs now. “NOAHAHAHAHAHAHAA.” Seungmin's entire body jolted and with a strangled yelp, he dissolved further into helpless laughter. It's was bad. It was bad. It was SO BAD!!

It was all too much, the tickles driving every stray thought from his mind and finally the puppy gave in, “Okay OKAHAHAHAY MY SMILE IS THE PREHIHITTIEST, EHEHENAHOUGH, AHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA.” His words turned incoherent, Seungmin now left howling in laughter, feeling like he was truly going insane.

It quickly went silent when Chan moved to plant a few parting raspberries to his sides before letting up. The rest following suit before they actually killed their cute puppy, giggling at the mess the boy was.

“I hate you guhuys, you’re so mean! Seungmin whined, scratching over the tingly spots all over his body. “Aww you don’t mean that, didn’t our sweet puppy have fun too?” Chan chirped in a baby voice, moving to nuzzle fondly at the pup’s belly, only to pull away with a laugh when the puppy yelped and scrambled away. “I’m not gonna tickle you again…for now.” He assured the red-faced boy. They gave him some water and Felix went to run a warm bath for him to relax in. It was pretty late after all.

While the tired boy enjoyed his bath, the four collected all the scattered snacks off of the floor and arranged his bed. They chose a movie and waited for the puppy to come out. As soon as the pup was out, the two oldest members wrapped Seungmin up in a cozy blanket burrito, Innie carding his hands soothingly through his hair.

Seungmin kicked out in annoyance when they started rocking him like a baby. A warning poke to his sides, however, had him surrendering to the aftercare. They pampered the puppy, eating the snacks and laughing and chattering on as the movie played in the background.

And they were rest assured that the next time Seungmin went for an appointment, he would feel confident about his beautiful smile, braces or not.

I'm starting to think I should write more stories where Seungmin just sits back and takes it...honestly that would be more in character for him 🥰💞

Please let me know if there are any mistakes, I didn't have a chance to proofread this well🥺😣

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Friends With Benefits Part 2/6

Summary - Reader and Ruben have been in a friends with benefits situation for over three years now, with Reader eventually looking for something more serious. But what does Ruben want?

Enjoy!

One day, out of the blue, you decided to take a leap of faith and try online dating. You had heard stories of successful relationships that had blossomed from such platforms, and figured you had nothing to lose. Little did you know that your journey would be a peculiar one.

Your first encounter was with a man who called himself Dr. Alan, a dentist by profession. On your first date, he enthusiastically talked about tooth decay, dental floss, and his collection of teeth-shaped souvenirs from around the world. You found yourself captivated by his unique quirkiness at first, but soon realized that his obsession with teeth trumped any chance of a meaningful connection. And so, that was the end of that.

Your second encounter was with an individual named Mark, whose chauvinistic mindset was apparent from the moment you sat down at a local coffee shop. Prior to entering the coffee shop you got a text from Ruben, a picture of his junk to be exact. He had been sending you alot of those lately, his way off telling you that he needed attention. Usually you would entertain his needs by sending him risky pictures of yourself with a hand between your legs or something similar, but for now you left his messages on read, as you desperately tried to wrap you head around this online dating sceem.

Turns out Mark was a sexist, though. Firstly he wouldn't stop boasting about his position as a top executive in a prestigious company, dismissing your passions and achievements as trivial. He believed that a woman's place was in the home, serving her husband's every need. Unable to tolerate his toxic views, you swiftly left, determined not to be reduced to someone's subordinate.

With your optimism faltering, you hesitated before delving into the realm of online dating for the third time. You eventually matched with a man named Eric, who seemed charming and sincere in your virtual conversations. However, upon meeting him, you quickly discovered that Eric was nowhere near the person he had presented himself to be. He belittled the waiter, made offensive comments about other patrons he'd met online, and spoke about himself incessantly. It became clear to you that Eric was simply awful, consumed by his own reflection and devoid of compassion for others. You excused yourself politely, feeling a sense of relief as you walked away from what could have been a disastrous connection.

"Are all men pigs?" You asked, a hint of a sigh.

"Yes." Ruben groaned, rolling over to lay his back after letting himself nut inside you.

You had answered one of his "You up?" texts in a moment of weakness, resulting in him dropping the location of the hotel that he was staying at for the weekend. The two of you had been going at it until morning. This was usually the part where you kicked him out of your apartment, however, you were on his turf now, unable to do that.

"Why are all men pigs?" You said, refrasing the question, in hopes of a less arrogant answer from Ruben.

"Why?" He yawned. "Pigs like to eat don't they? There is nothing better than eating a woman out."

"Get out!"

You nudged his warm body out of the bed. At least you still had the power to do that.

"What did I say?" He chuckled.

"That all men are pig because all they want to do in life is eat pussy."

Ruben threw his hands up in defense. "I can only speak for myself."

"Yeah, well, it would have been better if you didn't speak at all."

Ruben cocked his head to the side, watching you curiously as you sat with the hotel sheets cradled around yourself.

"What?"

"You look beautiful." He said.

"In the morning?" You snorted. "That must be the greatest lie you've ever told."

"No lie."

He returned to bed, puckering his lips as he leaned down towards you. You kissed him out of habit, although it did cause a stir in your abdomen. Calling some beautiful prior to kissing them should be off-limits in a friends with benefits situation.

"You want to ride around with me while I run some errands?"

You smiled against his lips. "Since when do you want to..."

"It's a yes or no answer, Y/N."

You pulled back, taking him in, as he stood hovering over you. You were a bit suprised that he hadn't asked you to help tame his morning wood yet.

"Sure, Ruben." You nodded. "I'd love to."

After a quicky in the shower the two of you were off in Ruben's Mercedes, driving around town, running minor but not pointless errands.

As you drove through town you found yourself pleasantly surprised. This wasn't just any ordinary errands run. Instead, Ruben turned the mundane tasks into meaningful conversations. You spoke of dreams and aspirations, of the joys and challenges of life. You realized that beneath the smooth-talking exterior, Ruben possessed a deep understanding and love for his family. It was evident in the way he spoke about his parents and siblings.

"What are you, Y/N, like 25?" Ruben drove with one hand, the other resting on your thigh.

"I'm 24, I'll be 25 next month."

"So you're like me." He shrugged. "Why are you in such a rush to get into a relationship and start a family?"

"It's not the same for men and women, Ruben. Women have a need to settle down early, whilst men can go around throwing around their seed into whomever they please to."

"I disagree." He chuckled. "Women can throw around...whatever they like to throw around, with whoever they wish to."

You rolled you eyes, turning your head to look out the window. You passed the coffee shop that you and your date, Mark, had gone to. This reminded you to text your next date where to meet up tonight.

"How old are the guys your seeing anyway?" Ruben drew your attention back into the car.

You shrugged. "27-32"

"See, now that's too young. No wonder they've all been pigs."

"Too young?" You frowned, "Those are grown men, Ruben."

"On the outside, yes. I say you have to subtract about five years of a man's age to figure out his level of maturity."

"That's bullshit and you know it!"

Ruben turned his head to look at you, suprised by your sudden outburst.

"That kind of talk just shows your lack of accountability and it's pathetic."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you sweetheart, but there's about a billion of other men like me out there and unless you up the age preferences on those dating apps your on, you're going to encounter most of them."

You felt like crying, but only because Ruben was right, so fucking right.

"Could you just drope me off, my apartment is not too far from here."

"Don't be silly, Y/N." His hand squeezed your thigh. "I'll drop you off in front of the building."

"Thanks, but I have to pick up my dress for tonight. The dry cleaners is on the way."

"Three dates in three nights, I see. I guess you're on a spree?"

"Four actually."

"Wow, and you call me a fuck boy."

You hit him in the shoulder. Angry that Ruben made it hard for you to stay mad at him.

"Y/N."

You perked up, hearing the way Ruben said your name. He had parked the car along the sidewalk, ready to drop you off.

"Yes?"

He turned to you faced you in the passenger seat.

"If you ever get into trouble with one of these guys that you're seeing, just call me, alright?"

"Then what?"

His eyebrows furrowed.

"Then what will you do, Ruben?"

His hand under your chin brought you forwards, pressing your lips against his own. He did not let you pull back until you winced for air.

Ruben grinned once you did.

"I hate you."

"I know."

Taglist:

@kathb59

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Fuck It Friday

Last night had me so upset I genuinely puked. But... Here's fanfic I guess...

Thanks @tizniz and @diazsdimples for the tags!!

Here's a snippet on the next chapter of Things We're All Too Young to Know that I'm working on!

---

Part of being one half of a healthy, functioning couple - and Eddie can safely claim that, for the first time in his life - is that awkward meet the friends part. Eddie really thought this would be a non issue for them, considering his best friend is Buck, and they share almost all the rest of their friends. But, apparently, there are people Eddie hasn’t met that Buck deems important enough to make a point of it. Connor and Kameron. And their baby.

The thing is, Eddie really would rather go to the dentist or the DMV or, like, one of those seminar sessions where they try to sell you a timeshare in Fort Lauderdale. He really wants nothing to do with them. Well, okay, he has nothing against the baby, personally. And, okay, really he doesn’t know Connor or Kameron enough to actually have anything against them either. But he’s not impressed with how they handled things with Buck, and even though he knows they’ve apologized, it’s kind of Eddie’s job to hold Buck’s grudges for him. Buck certainly won’t.

Nevertheless, Eddie finds himself on a lunch double date in mid-November with Buck, the people who randomly asked for his sperm and over involved him in their lives, and the infant outcome of it all. 

They meet at a nice little oven-baked pizza place, and Eddie is wary from the get go. He shakes their hands and introduces himself and smiles, the whole nine yards. But he finds himself waiting for them to say or do something he disapproves of. 

They do not.

They are kind and warm and ask him questions about himself. They seem particularly delighted to hear about Christopher. They express what feels like genuine happiness at his and Buck’s happiness. How entirely annoying of them, really. 

---

No pressure tagging @pantsaretherealheroes @jeeyuns @exhuastedpigeon @aroeddiediaz @theotherbuckley

@steadfastsaturnsrings @your-catfish-friend @mangacat201 @daughterofscotland @madneywedding

@evanbegins @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @wildlife4life @buckleybabyblues @adarkermiserablecrow

@epicbuddieficrecs @fortheloveofbuddie @bidisasterevankinard @watchyourbuck @buddieswhvre

@l0v3t0hat3y0u @lyricfulloflight @kwills91

[egcdeath]

Could you do Frankie + a spontaneous proposal? Like he has a ring and a plan but just gets caught up in the moment and asks? :)

pairing: frankie morales x reader

summary: after years of being together, frankie is finally ready to propose to you… except his proposal doesn’t exactly go as planned

word count: 1.1k

warnings: FLUFF, proposals, parenthood, established relationship, so much fluff–like call your dentist now fluff

author’s note: writing this made me so happy!! ahhh thank you so much for this request <33 i am also still taking drabble requests for any pedro pascal character! enjoy :-)

Since he was young, Frankie had had a bit of a habit of doing things in the wrong order—putting milk in the bowl before his cereal, placing his socks on before any other article of clothing, and even stepping into the shower before turning the water on. 

So it came as no surprise to him when he ended up bringing a baby into the world and moving in with you before he’d ever even considered buying you a ring. 

And for the most part, that’s what worked between you two—you both understood that your love for each other was something that transcended the need for a legal piece of paper, and that was pretty much the end of that conversation. But Frankie heard what the people around you were saying; your mother asking your sister when she thought you two would finally tie the knot, your friends asking in hushed tones if Frankie had proposed yet, and Frankie’s own friends hounding him about scheduling the wedding before they all had to go out on work again. 

So, in a quest to please the world, Frankie decided that it probably was time to propose to you. 

He meticulously planned out his entire proposal, starting with the most important part: the ring. He worked on subtly gathering information on what kind of ring was your dream ring under the guise of judging people on social media (one of your favorite pastimes), found out your finger measurements through various conversations with family members and friends, and visited every jewelry store he could find to find a ring that best suited what you liked and disliked in a ring.

Then, he moved on to planning the actual proposal. Frankie wanted to go with something simple, as he knew you hated all of that over-the-top stuff, but still very meaningful. That ruled out an airplane that would write ‘Will you marry me?’ in exhaust in the sky, or a rose and red carpet path on the beach that led to the words ‘MARRY ME?’ in big, bold lights. Instead, Frankie decided on a day dedicated to pampering you (under the pretense of giving you a well-needed break before your maternity leave ended), that would end with a redo of your first date, and conclude with him on one knee in front of you. 

Well, that was the plan—and to Frankie’s credit, he did end up finding you the perfect ring according to what you liked. But ever since the idea of proposing had been planted into his head, it was difficult for him to think of anything else. 

He seemed to fall harder and harder in love with you as the days went by. In the morning, when you turned to look at him with a sleepy smile, disheveled hair, and a raspy morning voice, it took everything in him to not immediately drop everything and ask you to marry him. When you greeted him after work with a hug and a confession of how much you’d missed him during the day, he desperately wanted to fall to one knee and pop the question. Even when the two of you wound the day down after putting your baby to sleep with a movie and a cuddle on the couch, it took everything in Frankie to not say those four words.

But it was the most difficult to restrain himself when he saw you with your newborn. How you seemed to radiate with joy when you held the creation that you two had made together, how even the most mundane tasks, like feeding her, or rocking her to sleep made his heart grow several sizes. All he could do was stare lovingly at the two of you, thinking about how lucky he was to have such a beautiful family.

Though he tried his best to stick to the plan, it was quite difficult for him when he felt like all of his love for you was about to burst out of his seams at all times.

After a long day at the workshop garage, Frankie arrived home and was instantly drawn to the muted, yet melodic song he heard coming from upstairs. He was lured up the stairs like a sailor hearing a siren song, the sweet sounds becoming clearer the closer he got to the nursery. Once he finally creaked open the door, he was met with the sight of you tenderly cradling your baby while singing a sweet lullaby. 

If Frankie had to pinpoint an exact moment where his resolve finally broke, that would be it—watching you hold the helpless infant that the two of you brought into the world, singing a song to her that had surely been sung to you when you were your daughter's age. If Franke hadn’t wanted to spend the rest of his life with you before, this picture perfect moment surely would’ve convinced him. 

He came up behind you, setting a hand on the small of your back and instantly feeling you relax into him at the touch. You glanced over at him and smiled, but continued your soft song and gentle rocking of the baby to ensure she was asleep. Frankie was so overcome with emotions in that moment, that he didn’t even think twice before the words were pouring out of his mouth. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone or anything more than I love you right now,” he whispered in the shell of your ear as you cradled your now snoozing daughter. “Will you marry me?”

“Frankie,” you scoffed in disbelief, believing he had to be kidding. “Please, Honey. Be serious.”

“I’m dead serious. I already bought the ring. It’s in my sock drawer, under that pair of catfish socks you bought me. I had this big proposal planned out for you, but I don’t think I can wait a second longer. Will you marry me?” he repeated, still quiet as to not wake your baby up, but with enough force to make you realize that he was telling you the truth.

“Oh my…” you trailed off as your eyes became just the slightest bit watery, as you were both pleased and shocked at the surprise. “Of course I will!” you said with just enough excitement not to wake up the infant in your arms. 

Although you two had already been a happy family, it turned out that it was kind of nice to legally be a family. Your family swooned over the story of Frankie’s unconventional proposal, while your fiancé blushed to himself in the seat next to you. Frankie’s friends probably retold the story more than you did to pretty much anyone who listened. 

It may not have been perfect in the way that Frankie had planned it, but it was perfect for you. And at the end of the day, that was what mattered most.

[peterparkouryo]

captivated habits | 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

prompt: your unrequited love for peter turns unhinged.

warnings: mentions of stalking, f!masturbation (referenced), unrequited love, obsessive behaviour, ptsd, erotomania, attachment issues, and bpd (borderline personality disorder)

word count: 5.9k

a/n: i was feeling dark, so read at your own risk i guess. also tysm for the love on rebound ajnskafn!! part three is in the works <3 

The moment you met him, you should've known something was wrong with you.

At first, you thought it was an innocent crush, always having that feeling of butterflies flying around in your stomach when you were around him. You even looked forward to going to school, having the energy that normally you never had. He had you on a euphoric feeling.

The next thing you know, you're becoming a lot more addicted than you should've. Most people say it might be limerence, but you know that's almost complete bullshit. Now, those people could be telling the truth, but there was something deep down inside you that ached, always.

You were becoming a different person in the most unhealthy way. You started to seek him out in the school hallways, got to know his schedule, and there was even one point where you followed him home (which may or may not have been an accidental occurrence that happened more than once).

He of course did not know who you were, you weren't friends but he knew you from a few of your classes (three of them to be exact), so he had no idea of your intense feelings for him. 

It was unrequited in the worst way possible. How can someone so pretty, so pure and innocent not feel the same way? Possibly because you made no effort to have an actual conversation with him, the only time you did was when he asked to borrow your pencil. Let's just say you cherished his touch on the wooden object as soon as you got home from school that day.

The boy in question is Peter Benjamin Parker. The absolute love of your life. His beautiful chestnut brown hair, those same coloured eyes that shine brighter than the sun, moon and stars. His nose as crooked as a trail through the woods, the small dotted freckles decorating its presence. The boy was one of a kind, you loved him more than you loved yourself.

There were times where you would stay up at night, fantasizing about what it would be like for him to yours. Being able to embrace his warmth, letting him be the shoulder you cry on, having special dates only reserved for the two of you. Those thoughts ate away in your head, you were too down bad, but you didn't care.

Currently, you were laying in your bed, trying to get proper sleep. It had been a long day, only having a little amount of time to see him. If it wasn't for your mother who had unfortunately picked you up early because you had a dentist appointment, you would had got to see him longer throughout the day. The class she had called you out of just so happened to be the class Peter was in, so now he probably thought you had something wrong with your teeth, which wasn't the case. You only had three hours and fifthteen more minutes until you got to see him again.

You would always get up an hour before you had to attend school, picking out your prettiest outfit for him even if he didn't pay attention to you half the time. It wasn't his fault, never would it ever be his fault. Plus, you liked watching the sun rise, imagining what it would be like to be on a random rooftop of New York, watching the star rise in its wake with Peter. 

Peter had always got to school five minutes after it's starting time, reasons you were unsure of. You always tried to linger around his locker before he arrived because it gave him a chance to see you once he cascaded up the stairway. His gaze was always straight ahead (or sometimes downward depending on his mood that morning), so you sometimes purposely walk past him after standing at his locker for five minutes straight. This became a daily routine.

Though so far it doesn't seem like you have a mental illness, but there is surely something wrong with you without a doubt.

People who just have "crushes" or are "in love" are the people you tend to avoid. Those are silly feelings. Feelings that only last for a few weeks or even months. With Peter, you knew it was more than love, it made your head spin with the possibilities that you had a chance with him.

You knew Peter never felt the same way, he didn't even know your name, which is understandable because you never made the effort to get him to know your name. But there were times that made you feel like he knew exactly who you were. He would sometimes send a small friendly smile your way, ask you for help on problems that involved the classes you shared together, and even grazed your fingertips when you gave him that pencil. It was a sign of the start of your love story.

Sometimes you wrote letters to him, none of them were sent of course (except maybe the poems), and even emailed him a few times, anonymously complimenting him on his excellent work or you would write words of affirmation on his favourite coloured sticky notes, placing them on his locker before, after, or during school hours.

You knew Peter didn't take a liking into your unwanted gifts. There had been a few times when you had sent him LEGO Star Wars sets to build with his friend, Ned. You only did that because you heard him talking about it, and you loved the idea of making him happy. You even started watching Star Wars because he was so fond of it. Sadly enough, he had exchanged your gift for some sort of technology for whatever project he was making. You only knew this detail because you were there, obviously.

It would had hurt a lot more, but you were glad he was actually happy with his barters. Doing it a few more times only proved his happiness was limited and you noticed it started creeping him out instead of doing the exact opposite.

You feared the worst if he ever found out it was you all along.

Once the timer hit six thirty AM, you eagerly arose from your bed, grabbing your outfit you had thought thoroughly about since yesterday when you had went shopping with your mom. You bought clothing items you knew he would like, you were feeling hopeful.

You even snuck into your mother's beauty kit, applying a step my step makeup look you saw on YouTube last night. It wasn't too much make up, light enough for Peter to see the glow that amplify your best features.

After what felt like ages of applying the look, you grabbed your backpack from your closet, the pictures that decorated the inside only making you smile, thinking of the day that's bound to be wonderful ahead of you.

The pictures weren't anything too special, just a few off guarded candids of Peter, either reading, walking in or out of Delmar's, or your personal favourite, when you were outside in the field during gym for one class, you just so happened to catch a glimpse of his smile. You've never pulled out your camera so fast.

Yes, it was unnatural, and borderline creepy, but he didn't suspect a thing considering you're in the school's photography club. To be fair, the only reason you joined was for the sole reason of taking pictures of Peter.

Sometimes you would remove the picture from the closet's wall and get under the covers of your bed, holding it up to your face, touching yourself as you imagined what it would be like to have him engulfing your body, having his way with you.

Those thoughts were for another time, you figured you could wait until later tonight to revisit them.

When you exit your room, you make your way out of the apartment, making sure to have the new digital camera you had previously bought with your last paycheque, inside of your backpack. Though you only did photography because of Peter, it still interested you in ways that were sometimes not even related to the boy, which is less than one percent of the time.

If you were to put all the pictures you took on the small objects into a hard drive and upload it to a computer, people would be freaked out by just how much pictures you had of Peter.

You were so glad when you arrived at school, quickly shoving your things into your locker, making your way to the second floor to where Peter's was.

Your heart did somersaults, backflips, front flips even, as you got closer to the threshold. Though you knew the boy wouldn't arrive to school for another hour, you felt that if you stood near his locker long enough, you swear you felt his presence. 

Walking up the stairs, dodging the many bodies of students that lingered around, you were so excited to just stand near his locker, tracing your fingers across the combination that you knew had his hands touch every so often.

The only downside to it was you didn't know his combination and no matter what you did, you could never figure it out, even if you planned to watch him put it in one day, the numbers were just so small to see, it made you feel undeveloped that you couldn't be closer to him in that sense.

What you did not expect to see when you finally were on the second floor was Peter standing at his locker talking to his friends.

No-, not friends, Ned, his only friend, and some girl who you recognized from your Math class.

She was tall, a lot taller than both Ned and Peter, she had brown curly hair and her skin was a light fair tan, her gorgeous face only adding to her appearance.

You could feel your guts inside your stomach twist and turn, the sick feeling only getting stronger when you watch as Peter effortlessly laughed at whatever it was the girl had said.

When had Peter decided that coming to school one hour before he actually does was a good idea? And why had you had no knowledge about his sudden change of schedule? 

It was unfair that the boy had decided out of nowhere to change his daily routine. It threw you way off course, and you only hoped that the boy only made a change in his morning route, opting to still go to Delmar's every Wednesday (today) after school.

Your glare only got more diabolical the more you watched the three of them interact, the sight making your thoughts whirl with things only psychotic murderers would dare think of.

"Hey." A voice greets you from behind, startling you and you thanked whoever it was before you went too far off the deep end of the sight a few meters in-front of you.

You turn around, your gaze meeting your friend since freshman year, Cindy Moon.

She was a pretty Korean-American girl, her long black hair complimenting her small figure.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were only friends with the girl because she was on the Decathlon Team with Peter, and she was the only one from the team to actually make an effort to talk to you whenever she wasn't involved with studying, or being a friend to the world.

Of course the girl is aware of your "crush" on Peter, unaware of your obsessive delusions that you would much rather keep to yourself. There were times that the girl had made plans for the two of you to talk, but you were too afraid and unprepared to actually grow the balls and do it.

It's not like you haven't planned your first encountrment with the boy in your head, but you'd much rather do it on your own accords than have someone else half ass do it out of the kindness of their heart.

"Hey Cid." You reply with a small smile, quickly turning your attention back toward where Peter and his friends would have stood, but unfortunately they were nowhere to be found.

You eye twitched at the thought, scolding the girl behind you for missing your chance at seeing Peter walk away, capturing the backside of his figure as he did.

You turn to face the girl with a frown, watching her smile never disappear.

"Ready for first period? I did the homework for you!" She cheerily says, pulling a piece of paper from behind her back, giving it to you.

You take it gratefully, looking down at the Chemistry homework you knew you weren't going to do whatsoever. 

Now to make yourself clear, you weren't using Cindy for doing your homework, that was just a plus. It wasn't your fault the girl was such a pushover. You had better things to do, like develop your film from your camera, find the perfect GPS tracking devices off Amazon that costed less than at least sixty dollars, and be near the love of your life any chance you got.

"Thanks." You simply say, your hands gripping the paper slightly.

"You're welcome." Cindy replies, and you were just about sick of her smiling.

"Okay, stop smiling, it's getting creepy." You tell her with a grimace, satisfied with yourself once her face slowly falls to a neutral expression.

You really had no problem with "happy-go people", it was just when someone who you knew or not had too much to smile about, it outraged you for reasons you weren't too sure of. Nevertheless, it was one of your many pet peeves, and the more you thought about those thoughts, you realized you might just be the most pessimistic person to walk earth.

There were a few things that made you happy of course, and you had a pretty well-tamed structure to maintain those happy thoughts to yourself, so you couldn't see why people most of the time couldn't do the same. 

Even if it wasn't just "happy" thoughts, you knew humans were utterly incapable of keeping their thoughts to themselves. Always finding any reason to create chaos with their deliberations.

Sometimes you could never understand, maybe will never understand why humans are the way they are, yourself included you supposed.

"We should get to class." The girl breaks you from your notions, tugging on your sleeve as she drags you through the hall.

You blink a few times, coming back into reality, staring dumbly at a almost frantic Cindy Moon.

"Alright," You tell her quickly, snatching your arm away from her hold, following the black haired girl through the hallway to your class.

-

Your first period went by agonizingly slow. You were just itching to see Peter for your third period, and second period wasn't any better with its slow clock, which also happened to have been broken.

When second period was over after what quite literally was forever, you hastily packed your things and made a bee-line to your third period class, sitting in your unassigned assigned seat, said place had the perfect view of Peter as well.

You pulled out your notebook, the item was pencil filled with all sorts of logs of whenever you'd see or hear of Peter, and if you were to be honest, it was almost out of pages. You made sure to be careful when in public, hoping and praying that the people surrounding you didn't take a glance to see your so called "creepy" hobby and take it completely out of context. If that were to ever happen, you would quickly come up with a lie, or maybe if god was real, they wouldn't care in some sense.

You adored keeping track of Peter, it made you feel closer to him, though yes, there are other things that you do consider as close as you can get, but you know this is a way of knowing him better without actually having to talk to him.

"Is anyone sitting here?" A voice breaks you from your trance, and you smoothly and swiftly close your notebook, glancing up to the source of the voice curiously.

Your heart almost stops right then and there. You didn't want to believe it and had to blink more than twice to make sure you were seeing the person who stood before you. Suddenly, you felt this immense amount of impulse, the feeling being too reaming for you to handle. 

In some fucked up way, you're sure you deserve this, having this weird inkling that the boy standing above you, almost towering you, had known about your obsession. He had only come over to tease you about it and possibly confront your creepy actions to the entire class (maybe even the entire school if you're honest). It made your head spin and you lack the proper ability to conjure up any english words, his eyes practically pleading for an answer.

"I, you,-" You start to form a sentence, scanning his attire, making a mental note in your head, and your heart beat increases to make things that much harder.

Peter was way too nice for his well-being, and normally you'd hate that in a person, but this was Peter, you loved anything he offered, and if he were to commit a violent crime, you'd be his number one defender. Hell, you'd even help him commit any crime if he asked.

Still, you figured maybe you were in some dream and Peter wasn't actually approaching you, asking if the seat next to you was available, because he shouldn't know of your existence, and it should almost be a world of fiction to allow him to ask you so.

"No." You mumble, hoping he'd heard it because you knew you weren't going to say more than just that one word.

Peter shows you a smile in appreciation and if you weren't sure you died before, you're sure you one percent died just now.

The boy sets down his bag near the free chair, and you move your stuff out the way to allow him the space he needed, watching his every move carefully.

You wonder if this was a wake up call of fate. In your head, you knew Peter was the one for you as much as you were the one for him, and maybe there was a god and the universe is conspiring for the two of you to be together. All it took was a little push.

The teacher walks in moments before the bell rings, and as quickly as he enters, the lesson starts not even seconds later.

"Sorry, do you have a pencil?" Peter has asked you in the past, of course, you remember it like yesterday and if you didn't, you knew it was probably in your 'log' notebook anyway.

You smile, a small unnoticeable one (that you made sure of), and instead of giving him a verbal answer, you dig through your backpack, pulling out a pencil before handing it to him, hearing a small 'thank you' that you surely heard.

Okay when you say a pencil, you mean the pencil, the same one you, well, had touched yourself with. Not that it was coated in anything other than your wetness, because if you were being frank, it was damn near impossible to reach climax with a object that thin.

You expertly observe Peter, your heart swelling at how tenderly he held onto the pencil, his concentrated expression doing wonders to your well-being. The poor boy had no idea of the sinful deeds you had done with the object in his grasp.

The whole lesson, you paid more attention to Peter, his scent, the way he wrote, and the many facial expressions he made whenever he was listening to your boring teacher speak. It was like watching your favourite film on repeat, learning the lines of each scene, and when you knew you had mastered each scene perfectly, you'd reenact each line word for word. Peter was your very own favourite movie, and hopefully one day he can reciprocate how you felt, perfecting you the way you perfected him.

"Here's you pencil, sorry I keep borrowing from you." He lets out a chuckle as he hands you back your (his) pencil, but you weren't up for that. As much as you would like to take it and cherish it, you knew it would mean a lot to you if he had kept it.

"No, you can, you can have it." You tell him, rejecting his hand that held the pencil.

Peter gives you a quizzical look, making sure it was okay if he did and you nod in confirmation.

"Oh, thank you." He smiles that award winning smile again.

You smile, packing your things up as the bell rings, students rushing out this dull classroom. You wanted to get out of there quickly, because you had something you needed to do and you know that if you got done in time, you'd catch Peter entering his science class with his friend, Ned.

"Hey, wait, um.." Peter calls out to you before you could exit the door and you turn around, albeit, quite desperately, seeing the boy with his backpack slung over one of his shoulders approaching you.

You feared the worst, truly. If he wasn't going to confront you in the beginning of class, he sure was now. Maybe the boy didn't want to embarrass you terribly in-front of everyone. Wanting no one around when he calls you out.

"I see you around a lot and I was just wondering if you wanted to sit with my friends and I at lunch today." Peter suggested, fiddling with the strap of his backpack.

"Not that I stalk you or anything, I just, you know, you seem cool and I guess...I don't know..." He seems at a lost for words, and you find it almost ironic how he doesn't stalk you, it being the other way around. Not that the boy needed to know that.

You stare at him, for a while, thinking of a answer that didn't seem too desperate, because had you known today was the day the love of your life talked to you for more than a second, you'd had the whole day planned out expertly.

"Sure." Was the most simple answer you could come up with, and the faltering smile from Peter grows wider.

"Cool." Peter nods in joy, walking past you, his scent ten times more stronger than it was before.

You turn around, watching him walk away, a skip to each step he took and you smile at his gleaming attitude, though you feel guilty for being the prime reason.

Guilt is such a improper feeling. Why should you feel bad for being in love with someone? Yes, it was very unhealthy with the rate you were at, you weren't even above surface anymore with the way you felt for Peter, but you honestly, didn't care.

Love came in many definitions and if you had to be delusional and down right psychotic to express that, so be it.

-

Michelle Jones. A fellow student at Midtown School of Technology and Science. An observant person who was well gifted in being smart. She shares your math class, the top of it as well and you envy everything about her.

Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, though she never tries to dress up at all, or even wear make up for that matter, she was also friends with Peter. You couldn't understand how or why. Peter was too good for anyone, such as Michelle herself, maybe even Ned.

Michelle didn't appreciate everything Peter did. Didn't understand him the way you did. Didn't go out of her way to send him gifts you knew he'd adore.

You couldn't see pass the logic of those two people, with much different personalities being friends.

It made your skin crawl with nuisance. What could she possible bring to the table that made Peter want to keep her around? 

Of course, it wasn't like they were dating, you're pretty sure at least, but why would Peter feel the need to be friends with any other girl other than you?

You were okay with him being somewhat friends with your unknown mutual one, Cindy, but being friends with a girl you barely knew was testing your limits.

You really had no right to be jealous, Peter was barely considered a friend himself, but if you two were to be together, he simply couldn't be friends with girls much prettier than you. It may give him the wrong idea and you were terrified he'd forget about your existence entirely.

Which is why you had to give Michelle the benefit of the doubt. You studied her all math class, trying to have a decent understanding as to who she was as person, and thank goodness you were a quick learner.

All it took, really, was the entire math class to scout out exactly who she is and how she worked. Maybe you could weasel your way into her small circle, become her friend and break her down bit by bit and have a guarantee she wouldn't even think to become anything more with Peter. You'd make her insecure.

Yes, it's a patent wicked plan, you knew that, but you weren't going to risk your chances at love with Peter.

"It's Michelle, right?" 

The girl incuriously glances up at the source of the voice, the math problem she was working on merely forgotten.

"Who's asking?" Michelle wondered, and you subconsciously clench your jaw, showing the girl a small, forced smile.

"I am." You tell her simply, she squints curiously at you, scanning your figure.

She was trying to reading you, you could tell. You knew you weren't really an open book, and also you were well aware that she knows you don't talk much unless talked to, so it was probably strange to her that you of all people came up to her to start up a conversation.

"Do you need help with the work?" She questions, her gaze fixated on you in a way that almost makes you feel small, but you knew better.

"Um, no, I just..." You blink in confusion, trying to think of anything to say.

It was hard having conversations with people you barely knew. The only reason you were friends with Cindy was because she literally forcing herself to become your friend, which did end up going well for you. But, overall, you weren't a people person and it was obvious, painfully so.

"I know you from Peter." You grimace, and she nods slowly, noticing your delay.

Michelle gives you a long look, a look that you could interpret as a dubious gaze, one that said she didn't quite believe the words coming out your mouth. You weren't lying, you had known her from Peter, so you really had not understood why she was looking at you like you were the world's worst liar.

You lie, but you would never lie about Peter, unless you had to.

"From the stalking perspective or because you actually made the efforts to get to know him?" You think you hear her ask, you're not entirely sure, so you blink, watching the girl's face, her eyebrow raised as she awaited your answer.

"I'm sorry?" You quiz, hoping she'd repeat the question you knew you heard right.

"I said did he tell you I needed more friends?" Michelle was calm and collected, her face almost mocking you at your delusions.

You were out of your mind, it was to the point you were hearing things that weren't actually being said.

Granted, there was a certain possibility the girl had said that and you deluded yourself into believing that's not exactly what she said, hence why you had her repeat the question she asked. There was also a possibility she changed her words for your sake.

You knew you had to get rid of her.

"Not exactly.." You trail off, your mind drifted into different possible scenarios.

"Peter," You bite back a smile when his name rolls of your tongue. "Invited me to sit with him at lunch and I know you sometimes sit with him and his friend so, just trying to make friends with his friends." You tell her, hoping to cover up your growing anxiety.

"We're hardly friends." Michelle could almost laugh at your bold assumption.

If the girl wasn't so observant, you'd let out a breath of relief at that knowledge. Your body visibly relax.

Honestly, you had no idea what to say next. You wanted to say anything, but nothing came to mind. Michelle was probably the most difficult person (aside from Peter), to talk to. You wondered if Peter considered her a friend, and that thought alone did not sit well with you.

"Oh."

"Yeah, but guess it's cool he finally had the courage to talk to you." Michelle says, and this time you know you had heard her right.

Your eyes widen in the slightest, but still highly obvious way, at her words. It wasn't right to feel this amount of joy over a sentence, but you had been waiting for this confirmation for awhile.

He finally had the courage to talk to you.

Before you could ask the girl what she meant, the bell rings and you're happiness is replaced with anger, Michelle is quick to pack her things and rush out the door, and you watch her from the window of the classroom, thinking about her words over and over again.

This was probably unhealthy, very unhealthy in fact, to think such thoughts that rushed into your head. But, no, this, this was a clear sign from the possible god above. 

Peter had the courage to talk to you, which meant he had some sort of romantic feelings toward you, a stark contrast from your intense feelings for him. You couldn't believe you had not noticed the signs. Maybe because you had not had the courage yourself to talk to him, and it really flew over your head of how he could possibly develop feelings for you if you watch his every move like a hawk.

Okay, maybe not all the time, but on a occasion you would gaze at him, because you loved his face, it was memorized, tattooed in your brain. Had Peter finally come to his sense that you and him belonged together? Maybe he had knew it was you all along who sent him those gifts, which made him fall in love with you even more, the poor boy just didn't know how to approach you.

Whatever it may be, you would delude yourself with the possibility of Peter having romantic feelings for you, because it was lunch time, which meant you got to sit with him, he had asked you to and it would be a crime to deny that offer from Peter.

-

You couldn't see it. Actually, you refused to believe it.

Peter Parker is such an unbelievable, incredible, pure soul. You needed and wanted to corrupt him, not in the same way you did with Michelle, no, you wanted to break his innocence, let him see the world for what it truly was.

He had this facade, you could tell, that the world was all sunshine and unicorns, it annoyed you. Of course, he could be masking his own sadness, which didn't sit well with you. Peter being unhappy made your heart ache in the worst ways possible. You knew that if there was any chance of the two of you becoming two souls and one heart, you had to decrypt his positive mindset.

Though, you love that about him, it wouldn't get him anywhere in life. You had to make him see that.

The lunch was admittedly, amazing. Despite your reluctance toward his friend(s), Ned was a pretty decent person, and in the future, you knew it would benefit you if you became friends with his friends, because that's what he wants.

Ned is an easy to talk to kind of boy, and he makes you laugh, a genuine laugh, sometimes you force it if you didn't understand the joke he told, for Peter's sake.

Peter on the other hand, really didn't spare you any glances unless he was talking to the entire table, and you found it weird, he had this sort of fearful glint in his eyes each time he made eye contact with you. You were worried, couldn't read him right to have an understanding as of why he was staring at you like you committed murder and swore him to secrecy.

Maybe it was because you were awfully quiet the whole lunch period, only laughing whenever Ned said something 'funny'. Truth be told, you had no faith in your voice to conjure up a proper sentence starter, so you relied on the table, and if the topic was in your interest, you'd voice your opinion.

None of that happened, Peter fiddled with his hands nervously, like he had something he wanted to say but couldn't word it right.

At some point Michelle had come over, and he eased up from the tension he felt, which didn't go unnoticed by you, your brain ticked in irritation. 

"So, uh, what did you get on your science quiz, Ned?" Peter questioned randomly. Ned was on the topic of something Star Wars related, so it confused you, but you ignored it, picking at your food.

"I dunno, dude. We literally just took it." Ned points out and you glance up curiously, just in time to see Peter give Ned a wide eyed look before catching your gaze and showing you a tight lipped smile.

You don't reciprocate it, continuing to stare at him with a blank expression. Now you could see what was going on.

It wasn't that Peter had liked you, now you doubt that very much, he had felt bad for you because you had no friends, which wasn't true, you had one. Not only that, but there was this small itching, aching, feeling that he had some sense in the know of your activities, which involved him.

Maybe not all of them, but the stalking, possibly, the gifts, probably, and that's all you know he was maybe well aware of. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, but it did take a lot of backtracking to figure out when and where he had realized you were being a creep.

Or, you could be thinking into this too much, but you're and over thinker, so you're sure that the thing Michelle had definitely said was true, and she made sure to make Peter well aware of it.

It would explain why he was so nervous when asking you to sit with him at lunch, and why the boy was so uneasy when you resided at the lunch table.

You had to get away from the trio before confirmation could be made, so you throw your plastic fork on the tray of untouched food, quickly getting up from the lunch table.

"Wait, wher-, where are you going?" Peter was frantic, and you turn around, just because it was him, seeing all three of them stare curiously at you.

"I have, something to do?" You tell him, and you know it sounds more like a question, but you didn't care.

Michelle shares an unconvinced look with Ned, who tries his best to hide it, Peter glances at his female friend for help, and she shrugs before going back to her book, ironically titled, 'Notice'.

Fuck, now you knew they knew.

Peter's mouth opens, but now you're long gone. You had no idea how you could let this happen. You thought were thorough and careful, you made sure of it. It was Michelle, it had to have been.

You wanted to curse Peter for becoming friends with such an annoyingly observant person. You couldn't, and you knew that. 

Despite him knowing about your stalking habits, you weren't going to let him know you knew. You were going pretend, and become the worst version of yourself you had always feared.

Just because Peter knows, doesn't mean you were going to stop, you just had to be extra careful now. You were going to make him come to a realization that you do what you do because you love him. Peter will come to his senses and soon love you.

You just had to eradicate the obstacles in his life.

part two???

[boredgirl2004]

Part 2 of Day 2: The book

As I said the words aloud, nothing had happened, I was relieved but also a bit angry. The nightmare that scared every loving ⬧︎♒︎♓︎⧫︎ out of me, that asked me to open this stupid book and to find that nothing came of it?!!! I was angry that my mind was playing tricks on me, so I took my hand off the page and reached the book cover so I could close it. 

“What a waste of time!! First, the stupid dream asks me to open the book. I finally give in and open it only for there to be a warning from a guy who I don’t even know and instructions to summon whatever this ring is only for it to not do any-” I was immediately cut off from my hand being sucked back to the bloody handprint, the handprint, and red words emitted a bloody bright red glow, I left my blood being sucked out of my fingertips, I the pages in the book turning, they were quickly changing, from a burnt bloody page to a much cleaner and whiter one, immediately words began to appear, in all caps said the word “HAHA” over and over and over on the two pages, I immediately grabbed one of my books I had bought from Barnes and noble, only to be in shock to see that it had the same font and same words as repeated in the book of the bill. It was like those computer glitches, where the code would just repeat itself over and over after the system was hacked. Everything in the room began to shake until it began to float. Finally, one page of the book had the triangle figure appear, it pressed itself onto the page until it burst through. As it did, everything in my room slowly began to be set down. It began to speak.

“Well, well, well! Here we are at last!!! I’ve been waiting an ETERNITY to meet you, and I know you’ve been waiting nearly as long to meet me!!” I stood there in shock that the book or thing or whatever this was was talking to me! This couldn’t be real, it can’t be and how could it be?!

“Breath it in a second pal-this moment of anticipation! You always suspected this day would come, and it finally has! Your life will forever be divided into two halves: before you met me and AFTER. Welcome to the after!” It continued as I looked at it and began to stutter, trying to find my words. I didn’t know what to say about this situation as a whole! I wasn’t sure how to react. This was all confusing and shocking. I knew Stanford, the man who warned me to not turn the page said to not believe a thing this book says but I didn’t know it would be this weird!!! 

The thing talked over me while my brain was crashing, trying to find something, some word to say about all of this. “You’re probably wondering, “Bill, you’re an all-powerful being. Why write a book, huh? Why let me read it? Also, aren’t you dead? Are you dead or what? What’s the deal?” I have no idea what you mean…”  the page had turned on its own to reveal a dark silhouette of the triangle being. Its eye is emitting a glitchy, yellow and red hue as its mouth opens to reveal its crooked teeth (Bill needs to see a dentist fr fr) 

“I’m….p e r f e c t l y…..f I n e”

Before I could finally speak and probably ask my question since from his tone, it seemed like whatever happened last time didn’t go so well. I was rudely interrupted yet again. 

“In fact, I'm better than fine, because might feel silo And there's a lot we can do together! Oh, you might feel silly about "meeting" me. After all, "Bill Cipher" is imaginary. You're real and I'm not, right?

BUT ARE YOU SO SURE ABOUT THAT?

After all, you're mortal. One day, you'll be dust. But I'm an idea. And an idea can't be killed. So that's me 1, you o on the immortality front! And if I'm the eternal one and you're the temporary one, THEN IT MIGHT BE WISE FOR YOU TO GET ON THE WINNING SIDE EARLY, YOU DIG?

I know that drama queen Sixer warned you not to read this book, didn't he? Maybe the old nerd is right! Weak minds have gone crazy from just ONE glimpse at my TANTALIZING FORBIDDEN SECRETS! (Sees the hickory-smoked crater where

McGucket's brain used to be!)

But if you're as sharp as I think you are ... and if you're curious about the meaning of life, how to cheat death, Pine Tree's most embarrassing dreams, and your own interesting future, then I'll consider making a deal with you. How about a trade? I'll let you read my book in exchange for a favor down the line. We can work out the details later. What do you say?

TAKE BILL'S DEAD

YES?

TURN THE PAGE

No?

TURN TO PAGE 77”

I hesitated to turn the page, I slowly began to think about my choice. There were many cons to this, from what the guy wrote in the previous pages, he expressed how much meeting bill would be a regret for those who continue with turning the pages in this book; I don’t even know what Bill could do to me from just turning the pages in this book. What if I’m walking into a trap? What if there is more to this than what he’s letting on? What if-

“Ah, look at you, all tangled up in your own thoughts. Overthinking is such a waste of time! You’re so close to getting everything you desire, but you’re letting doubt hold you back. Come on, what’s the point of hesitation? Life’s too short for that kind of nonsense. Just turn the page, and I promise you—things will get a lot more interesting. And if you keep dithering, well, I might just start making decisions for you. So, what’s it gonna be? Ready to embrace a little chaos and get what you really want?” I looked down at the page to see Bill was in a sitting position, his leg crossed over the other and his expression expressed how bored and impatient he was from me thinking my choices. I was worried about how he could be speaking to me like this when he’s in  a book, this isn’t possible it just- isn’t-

 “Your hesitation is almost charming, but it’s getting a bit tiresome, don’t you think? Besides, if you’re worried about the logistics of me being here, maybe you should focus more on the opportunities I’m offering instead of waddling over what’s right. Overthinking won’t get you anywhere, dollface. So, why not stop doubting and start acting? The more you dawdle, the more interesting things will get when you finally make a choice.” He said with a mixture of smugness and amusement as he stared at me from the page. I sigh and remember my task. Find a way to destroy the book from the inside out, focus on not believing what he says, even if it’s too good, I kept repeating the same sentence in my head over and over as my confidence began building itself up as I reached the page. Still, I pause as I look at Bill and begin to speak. 

“If you’re are this bill-person that this guy Stanford Pines warned me about, how can I trust you despite the warnings in the previous pages he wrote before? What is something you could say that’ll convince me that I shouldn’t just close this book and leave it in my room, never to be opened again?” I waited for the bill's response, which didn’t take long, and had no thought. 

"Oh, come on now! Sixer was always so serious, wasn’t he? Just a big bundle of paranoia and charts. But listen to me: I’m not here to cause trouble—well, not just trouble. I’m here to offer you a chance for a bit of fun, a touch of excitement, and maybe a sprinkle of chaos. What’s life without a little unpredictability, right? Close the book and you miss out on all the cosmic shenanigans I have in store. Open it, and you might just find yourself in a whirlwind of adventure. I’m all about making things interesting and trust me, you don’t want to miss what comes next. So, are you in, or are you going to play it safe and dull? Your choice!" He said in a calming tone. 

It wasn’t enough to convince me. I sighed and began to speak once more but this time I was faking my boredom. “Not convincing enough. Well Bill, it was nice meeting you even though it didn’t last very long but hey, this is my imagination just like you said right?” I say as I slowly begin to close the book. Bill responded with a slight stutter but he quickly covered it up with his nonchalance, “Oh, come on now, don't be so hasty! You’re not going to shut me out, are you? I mean, who knows what you might be missing? I wouldn’t want you to close the book before you've had the chance to experience everything I have to offer. After all, isn’t that the fun part of imagination—exploring the unknown? Give it a little more time. What’s a little more curiosity going to hurt?” I paused, the book was nearly closed but I  slowly opened it back up. There was nothing but silence from both of us for a while until I turned the page. Bill's attitude changed immediately. 

“Right choice, bone sack! Welcome to the Book of…” The page was now a biblical book cover of the Book Of Bill, Bill continued “No, no! That won’t do! Do you call that a cover? What is this, amateur hour? I can do better than that!” As Bill stared at the cover, I replied “Well, I don’t see you as a professional, Maybe try something more….You?” I said a bit awkwardly. Bill looked at me nodded in agreement and turned his back to me as he snapped his fingers, the next page had turned by itself, revealing four different covers. The first had a realistic appearance, it was in the middle of a farm, a storm right above it, and the clouds emitted lighting that took the shape of Bill. “Too basic!” He snapped his fingers again to reveal a book that reminded me of those horror books of goosebumps made for kids back in the 80s, I think they also made a show about it but that was years ago. “Too nostalgic.” He snapped once more to reveal a cover that I would see here, too many Bibles that had Jesus or god descending from heaven and floated above the person praying to one of them. “Too preachy.” He said out of boredom as he snapped again. I could hear a saxophone playing sexy music, it revealed a buff Bill Cipher holding a woman, they were in a field, their hairs blowing in the wind. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the cover. “Too ravishing!” I wiped my tears and tried to control my laughter. 

“You think?” I said as I laughed once more as I wheezed out that Bill doesn’t even have hair or a human-like body. It looked so wrong to me but that’s what made it funny. Finally, Bill settled on a cover, It reminded me of someone on their computer trying to make the title and using as little effort to make it until they settled with Bill being tapped to the cover, misscapitalized and misspelled words, a tab saying “Good job Bill” with some emojis and a menu from right-clicking the picture. “There we go! Perfect! The crowd LOVES it!” I smiled and looked at him. “I bet they love it. It shows the author more than ever!” I say jokingly even though it was like a kid was in charge of making this cover. I see a bloody fingerprint at the right bottom corner of the page that says “Put thumb here”. The fingerprint had veins on the side of it causing me to be a bit concerned. “With that all out of the way, all this book needs is some ink! Hey, can I borrow some of your blood? Just press your thumb here, and I’ll absorb some right into the page! You won’t even notice it's gone!” I hesitated until I gained confidence and gently pressed my thumb on the bottom corner of the page, I felt a sharp pain on my thumb as if my thumb was being pricked and the blood was slowly leaving it. I tried to pull it off only for more blood to be sucked out of it. I kept trying to remove my thumb from the page, it was stuck there after a few pulls but after the fourth time, the book at finally let my thumb go.

Note: Hiiii, sorry for taking so long. Busy with life but anyway! I wanted to have Bill be more interactive so I tried my best trying to imitate the character the best I could.

[quibbs126]

could i get a mintrock fankid,if possible?

Okay so I feel like I went a bit off prompt, but here you go, I finally made her, this is Mint Toothpaste Cookie

Admittedly, maybe I could have given her a more occupational name instead of Mint Toothpaste, but I can’t think of one. Maybe I could come up with one in post, and if she has a different name, you know I changed it. I do at least have her character down, so

Anyways, Mint Toothpaste here is actually a scientist working at Astronaut’s agency (I don’t remember the specific NASA pun and right now I’m too lazy to look it up), and she specifically works with the Xylitolians, trying to learn and integrate their technology with their own. She’s also a bit of a fan of their fashion sense and has altered her outfit to more resemble theirs

Okay I know this angle is completely out of nowhere for a mintrock kid, but let me explain. The idea was based on her being made of toothpaste, and wanting to incorporate that into her character. Originally my idea was to maybe go a dentist route, though it felt a bit boring to me. Then I remembered Planet Xylitol also has a dentist/teeth theme, so I decided to use that concept and say that they’re connected

Also, I couldn’t think of anything interesting/something I liked that had to do with Mint Choco or Rockstar’s music angles. All I could think of was basically just going into a different genre of music, and that felt incredibly boring, so why not go in this sci fi route? In retrospect maybe I could have found something to ground her more to normalcy, but screw it

I don’t really know how she came to the scientist conclusion in her life, but shut up, she just did, don’t ask questions. Maybe it was Pink Choco

She does however still have music in her life, it’s just more of a hobby than a lifestyle. She is in fact, an accordion enjoyer and player (though I’m realizing it doesn’t look super good in that sketch now). She also enjoys music from video games she plays, and will sometimes play some of those songs on her accordion. She’s not the biggest strings fan, which is somewhat disappointing to her parents, but at least they didn’t have to compete over whether she would like the violin or guitar more (she thinks they’re just okay)

She’s a bit of a know it all, and while she does good at her job, and the Xylitolians like her, outside of work she kind of lets her job of integrating with an alien culture, being part of intergalactic history, go to her head. She’s sort of become that person who’s annoying after coming back from a study abroad (or so I’ve heard that’s a thing, I haven’t experienced that yet. Or maybe that was me with Britain last year), except she never left to go there and isn’t planning on ending her communication with them. Hopefully she gets better

And yeah, on to the design

So I called her Mint Toothpaste because it’s mint, and I like to imagine Rockstar as being made of shaving cream, and thus I like to imagine his kids not really having the most normal flavors. I didn’t really do that previously, but I did here. I believe the original name was going to be Mint Sauce

Mint toothpaste:

One thing I will say right off the bat, I’m sad that I couldn’t make her hair look as good as it did in the sketch. I tweaked it enough so it doesn’t look horrible, but in my opinion it looks much better in the sketch

But anyways, so her design was mainly based off of the Xylitol NPCs, since she was going to be connected to them. I actually didn’t decide until late whether or not she was living with them or working remotely, but regardless it’s a way to tie them in together. Though I also put in some Mint Choco flair with the coattails so she had something to separate them

I’ll admit right now, I don’t think she looks a lot like Rockstar, at least in the outfit. I used his jacket color in the accents, and she has his eye color, but I don’t know. Or maybe I only think that way because a lot of her colors come from Mint Choco

Also the little triangle in her top part of her suit is supposed to look like Rockstar’s necklace. It was just added to make her have a bit more to do with Rockstar, but I think it looks good on her

Honestly, I actually quite like how her design turned out. Yeah it’s not the most complex, it works with what she’s trying to do, and I think I did better than last time

And yeah, that’s it for Mint Toothpaste. I hope you like her!

[tomatoswup]

sweet spot -`♡´-

summary: curiosity killed the cat they say at first, but it definitely brought it back. At the heat of the moment, you find a pretty hidden sweet spot of Vash's that you'll remember forever! Such a delicious face!

warnings/tags: Minors DNI, nsfw,,sprinkles of praise,, afab,, marking,, what if vash had an erogenous spot on the roof of his mouth,,and yeah fingers are going into mouths bestie,,, lil bully vash moment,, i dont know whether or not to put top!vash or submissive!vash because its kinda giving a mix of both,,,fuck it, its a tag now,, short drabble,,,plant dynamics

there might be mistakes bc i wrote this at bumfuck 2 AM and i can't read straight, i really almost wrote fetty instead of pretty like???

A/N: You know whats funny, I wrote this at first with a focus on Vash's sharp canine teeth (title was originally gonna be show me your teeth)but the most brilliant idea popped up in my head i needed to write it. still kept the teeth and marking part in bc :P i hope i didn't write this like a dentist visit LMFAOO,,im sorry if this didn't make sense i need to sleep lmfaooo ENJOYYY~

p.s: theres an small extra at the bottom :D

Vash was certainly somewhat of a wacky guy.

NOT in a bad way, definitely not! You loved him with all your heart but there were a few things he left you so curious about, especially after confessing his plant origin to you that while back.

So you often observed him, how he interacted with others, whenever he was proud, shy, nervous or angry. And every time he grinned or gave people a big smile, you always peeped at those sharp canines of his. Were they normally that pointy? Or what it because he was a plant?

"Hey Vash..." You called out to him one day as the group walked into an inn for the night.

"Eh?" He turned to look down at you, an innocent smile on his face "What's up?"

There perhaps may have been a mistake asking him that question, especially when the both of you had been a bit worked up over the month. The roads have been tough, and the two of you haven't had a moment alone together in so long.

As night arrived, the moans and groans of the bedroom grew louder and thank god everyone had gone to the local pub for the night, leaving the both of you to ravish each other in peace, even if it were just for a few hours.

You wouldn't have been able to face everyone if they heard.

Each buck of his hips into you had you gasping for air as the dull pain of his grip on the side of your thigh had you wanting to run laps around the room. Well.. if you could.

With legs keeping a tight wrap around Vash's hips, your grip on the sheets around you had the whites of your knuckles showing. It felt a bit embarassing as Vash towered over you but did you really care? nope

"You look so beautiful.." He moaned out, delivering another hard thrust into your gaping hole as the dirty squelching noises of cum mixed in with both of yalls' heavy breathing and panting.

Vash did think you looked quite heavenly though. The hickeys, the bite marks on your shoulders and around your breasts, he really wished he could see you like this everyday if he could.

"Won't you.." You whimpered "..look at your self p-prettybo- Oh~" Did you finish your sentence? You couldn't really tell by the way Vash's cock hit that delicious spot in you, making you tighten your legs around him to get closer, to leave no space.

To leave nothing.

"C-Can't even tell me what you wanna say?"

God he made you dizzy, the stickiness of both your bodies together and him dragging his tongue around your nipples made you less lucid than you thought you had been. You tried to catch your breath, you really did, but it had gotten hard to as the coiling feeling at the core of your stomach made you just want a bit more.

just a bit...

Opening your eyes, you hazily looked at Vash’s flushed face, sweat starting to show on his forehead and the blond strands of hair starting to stick to it as he gave you a cheeky grin that made you laugh amidst the pleasure. Letting one hand go from the bundled up sheet above your head, you shakily lifted it up to his face and caressed his cheek.

"V-Vash.." You hitched out, the pad of your thumb brushing over his swollen pink lips before they entered his mouth in the heat of the moment.

And Vash accepted, giving you a small groan as you felt the his saliva coat it, and his teeth graze it. But suddenly, when your thumb accidentally hit the roof of his mouth, specifically his palate, you watched in awe.

In pure awe actually, as Vash's eyes fluttered shut, letting out a choked and long moan you've never heard before.

Desperation.

Need.

Holy shit.

You felt his cock start to twitch in you as you let out a breathy chuckle "A plant thing I missed?"

You moved your thumb to caress his palate one more time as you felt his thrusts lose rhythm, the pure look of pleasure washing over his face as the tips of his brows furrowed and the grip on your thigh tightened. He had lost his composure, turning into jelly just because of that touch.

You found a sweet spot of his that you didn't know about..

And oh fuck he looked pretty just like that.

You shuttered at the sight of Vash's blissed face as the edges of his ears turned red, his eyes only opening just enough for you to see the tad bit of watering. "Mpfh..."He whined out in need muffled by your finger before suddenly, the strong, deep thrust of his cock into your cervix had you arch your back and gasp, making you quickly take your finger out of his mouth to desperately grab his shoulder.

"I'm sorry.." He panted, a line of saliva running down the corner of his mouth as you felt him get bigger inside you, causing you to mewl at the sudden change. Feeling large calloused hands finding themselves at your waists, you looked back at Vash as the patterns of blue scattered over his face and scarred chest "Hold on..." Your eyes widened at the realization of his words.

"W-WAIT- AH!~”

Oh isn't Vash just so cute!

extra:

-homeboy just railed you to oblivion and thinks you can walk normal the next morning? PFTTTT

-You made sure to give Vash a playful punch on the shoulder when the both of you awoke in the morning.

-"and you didn't tell me that you had a spot on the top of your mouth?"

-"ya know, i had completely forgot about that hahaha -queue vash shyly scratching the side of his cheek.

-and you wonder how he could be shy after the way he fucked you sideways,, QUITE LITERALLY

-you make sure to try and touch it with your tongue when the both of yall make out though🫶

-plant tingz💕

-have fun! :D

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 28: Fitz's Capture

Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, restraints

"And wake." Snap.

Fitz's eyes popped open, as though he'd just closed them for a second -- but that clearly wasn't the case, because he was no longer backstage. Nor was he in his bedroom, on his couch, in someone else's bedroom, on someone else's couch, or in prison, which covered all the places he was likely to wake up unexpectedly.

No, instead he was in a sterile looking room, almost like a doctor or dentist office, perched on top of a table. His arms were restrained behind his back, a pair of handcuffs that he was sure he could easily get himself out of. Lily was standing in front of him, serene and confident.

He'd been a bad judge of character many, many times in his life, but he had a sinking feeling that this would turn out to be one of his more spectacular mistakes. He crushed down the little voice telling him about how he'd been stupid, so stupid, and tried to plaster an unflappable smile on his face.

"Did you have a nice rest? It seemed like you could use it," said Lily.

Fitz's eyebrow twitched with the amount of questions flooding his brain. He hadn't really even believed in mesmerism, and yet somehow she'd put him to sleep and taken him to a location that was clearly not anywhere in the theater. It didn't seem possible, and yet, here he was, trying to remain calm, act like he belonged here and that he knew exactly what he was doing.

"It seems I lost the bet," he said. "Good trick. Mind telling me where we are now?"

"Care to guess?"

He frowned, looking around the room. There wasn't much to go on, just a few chairs and tables. There was an odd post in the center of the room, and the table nearest him had what looked like medical tools on it. He hoped those were just decorative.

"Oh, it's beyond obvious that you've kidnapped me for ransom," he said, picking the most likely option and bluffing his way with the rest. He just needed to keep her talking while he worked his hands free of the cuffs, quietly so she would not hear. "A terrible decision on your part, really. I realize that it's hard to believe, but my family has no appreciation for my talents. They're not going to part with a single dime on my behalf. If anything, they'd pay you to keep me. Not that I expect you to listen to my sage wisdom, but you'd really be better off releasing me before this business gets any uglier."

"Don't worry, I know that your family has left you for dead. I wouldn't have taken you if I thought anyone was going to look."

Now that was actually worrying. "What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, mostly to stall for time since he didn't think he'd get a real answer from her. 

The door was right there, slightly ajar. Lily was smaller than him and didn't look particularly strong. He could overpower her if needed, especially if he caught her by surprise. And the sooner he got out of here, the better, before he found out firsthand why she didn't want anyone to come looking for him. One of his hands twisted free.

"I mean that I'm not interested in ransom. I'm going to make money from you in a much more surefire way." She grinned, and Fitz was sure he saw fangs there. That couldn't be right -- he had to be imagining things.

Still, she had somehow mesmerized him entirely. And she was very, very pale...

"And how do you intend to make this money?"

"I'll be selling you in an auction. An auction where you're going to be in very high demand. You see, your family's blood is extremely high quality, but it's too risky for us to take anyone whose disappearance might be investigated. That is, until you did the courtesy of divesting yourself of your pesky family. Really, I should thank you."

Fitz's mouth was going dry. "Did you say my blood? You mean my lineage? Because that --"

"No, I mean your literal blood." She was way too close to him now, and when she grinned, her fangs were very sharp and very obvious. How had he not noticed? "Haven't you figured out that I'm a vampire, yet? I thought you might be sharper than that."

"A vampire?" A chill gripped his heart. The evidence -- but no, there was no way. He forced himself to arrogantly laugh in her face. "You do realize I spend most of my time in the company of performers, magicians, occultists, fortunetellers, carnival freaks, and circus acts, don't you? I've rapped on the table during seances. I've been to a dozen rituals to trick rubes. Your vampire act is good, no doubt, but it falls a little short of believable."

She leaned back, and Fitz could see the door again. He slipped his other hand just free of the cuff. "You don't have to believe if you don't want," she said. "What you think hardly matters, especially when I'll be changing your mind. Now let's --"

He took his chance, leaping off the table, pushing her aside and bolting for the door. Fake vampire or no, he wasn't about to let himself be sold at any sort of auction. Thankfully, she clearly wasn't expecting him to slip the cuffs, so his escape should be --

His blood rushed to his ears as he was grabbed and slammed into a wall, with enough force to hurt but not enough to seriously injure him. Lily, the mousey woman a head shorter than him, with arms like fragile twigs, was effortlessly pinning him.

"You get one free attempt," she said. "Mostly because I like you, and you're far too valuable to harm."

Fitz kicked his legs uselessly, his struggles not even seeming to register with her. His panic was growing as he tried to think of an angle behind her apparently supernatural strength and reflexes and came up short. He'd never seen anything like this.

An actual vampire.

Yes, this was one of the worst of his mistakes.

With how effortlessly she'd stopped his dash for the door, escape probably wasn't an option as long as she had him in her sights. That meant his efforts had to go towards survival. Bluff and charm and stall and hope a better opportunity presented itself.

"Can you truly blame me?" he said, hoping his terror wasn't too obvious. Could a vampire smell fear? "I'm a magician. It's my instinct to try and escape. But I've learned my lesson, now."

"Have you?" she said, cocking her head. "You don't strike me as the type of man to learn his lessons easily."

"Perhaps not, but I am the type of man who would rather not be thrown into the wall again."

"That, I can believe," she said, releasing her grip. She walked over to a nearby cupboard, keeping her eye on him all the while. She pulled out a white linen shirt and slacks, tossing them at him. "Now, little magician, be nice and obedient and put these on without a fuss, and your body and mind can remain intact for now. How about it?"

"You want me to change in front of you?" Fitz asked, earning him an impatient glare. "Yes, yes, no fuss, lesson learned. I hope you enjoy what you see." He began unbuttoning his shirt, never breaking eye contact with Lily. He didn't like the sound of "intact for now." Nor did he like the implication that his mind would be harmed. She had him completely over a barrel, and all because he thought he could easily outwit a mesmerist. Stupid, stupid, he'd been so stupid.

He tried in vain to crush down his thoughts by making a great, dramatic show of whipping off his shirt, which gained no reaction whatsoever from Lily. "You know, you were quite good at being part of my magic show," he said as he stripped off the rest of his clothing. "And you have impressive talent as a mesmerist, not to mention your surprising strength. You could make a lot of money in vaudeville."

"I can make a lot of money selling humans."

"Vaudeville's a much easier paycheck, I would think."

"I wouldn't say that. It was awfully easy capturing you, wasn't it?"

Fitz couldn't help but scowl. There had to be some angle here. "Don't you feel a twinge of remorse, doing this? Kidnapping innocent people? Not me, of course, I'm hardly innocent, but surely others..."

"Oh, I do, at times. But my remorse pales compared to the size of my paycheck, not to mention my hunger for blood like yours."

"So that's it, then? Some vampire is going to drain me dry and leave me for dead?"

"Oh, not at all. With how valuable your blood is, it'd be extremely irresponsible to leave you for dead," she said. "No, more likely they'll leave you in a half-lucid state for years while they feed from you whenever the mood strikes them. If you're lucky, you'll get to keep enough of your mind to be a servant."

Stupid. Stupid. He'd been so stupid. "Well, doesn't that sound..." His composure broke, unable to think of a retort. Trapped by vampires, having his mind taken, being forced into servitude -- he always knew his life would lead him to some kind of bad end, but he didn't expect this sort of fate worse than death to be waiting for him. "Doesn't that just sound charming," he finished pathetically. 

The uniform was uncomfortably itchy and ill-made, and he was glad he had no mirror. "Well? Do I look the part of your prisoner?" he said, striking a pose before Lily.

"It'll do. You'll get a more thorough physical examination later," she said. "But it's almost sunrise, so for now I'll get you to your cell. Any funny business and I'll put you back to sleep."

"I think I've had enough charmed sleep for one night," he said, offering no resistance as Lily gripped his wrist and pulled him out of the room. They walked down a sterile corridor and through a set of metal double doors, the guard glaring at him as he passed through. The doors opened to a long row of prison cells, most filled with people in various states of misery. Some curled up, some sat on cots and stared vacantly at the wall, one woman was pacing and muttering to herself.

The reality of it all began to sink in. This wasn't a nightmare, or a trick, or a joke. He was actually a prisoner here, and he had no way out. It was all he could do to keep from fruitlessly struggling against Lily's grasp, knowing it could only make his situation worse.

She led him to an empty cell and motioned him inside, and he took a long look at the doors before reluctantly entering, the door closing behind him with a definitive clang.

"Meals are three times a night. The faucet water is for drinking and bathing. Use the bell if you need the chamber pot cleaned or if there is an emergency. Lights out means quiet. Noise during lights out, abusing the bell, or harming yourself will all be punished."

"What's the punishment?"

"Anything we like, so I wouldn't recommend testing it," she said. "Oh, and you should know that I am planning to keep your mind intact. I have an old friend who I think would appreciate your antics. But if you attempt to escape, that plan will change. Is that clear?"

Perhaps he had indeed learned a lesson, because he didn't doubt that she could do that. He had to do whatever it took to stay alive here. "Crystal clear."

"Good, I'm glad we can understand each other. I can tell we're going to get along well, Phantom Fitz."

"Like a house on fire," he said bitterly.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to stew in your many regrets. See you next evening."

As Lily walked away, Fitz flopped down on the meager cot with the rough mattress. Even his bed in the tiny room he'd rented was better than this. He couldn't help but think of his old family home -- the luxurious bed, the sumptuous food, the gorgeous clothing. He'd run away from it all to pursue his freedom, to live a life away from constant criticism and expectation. He'd been broke, slept in the nastiest of flophouses, gone hungry, begged, bartered, and stole. 

It had all been worth it when he was up on the stage, in his element. It was all going to be worth it when he made it big, when he basked in the applause of adoring crowds and rolled in riches every night. Approval he didn't need to wring out of his parents like blood from a stone, money that wasn't doled out with withering glares.

And now, that dream could all go up in smoke. A servant to a vampire. So much for freedom, fortune, and fame. If he had known...

He was stupid. So stupid.

Part 27 >> Masterlist >> Part 29

Thanks for reading this story of a down on his luck stage magician. Back to Oliver next.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs

[look-at-the-soul]

The runway -Part 1

Lenny Miller x reader (Cillian Murphy’s role in movie Anna)

Finally!!!! I’ve had this request for a while in my drafts and it’s turn for some Lenny Miller mini series.

@l1-l4 Andy I’m really sorry it took me so long to post this, but stories have their own time (at least to me), I loved your request since the very beginning so here it is finally, I think it would be perfect for a mini series, as there are several important points to reach, but I hope you like this! 💕

Special thanks @heidimoreton for the gifs help!! 🌷

Lenny poured himself a glass of wine and walked towards his bed. Loosening the knot of his tie, he flicked through the confidential file he got at the end of his day at the office. A new mission, after his last successful one where he rescued a diplomat that was caught in a zone of conflict, now he would have get inside of a world he didn’t know anything about; a model agency.

“Adam, yeah, sorry about calling this late.” He greeted the other man in the line.

Lenny heard him chuckling. “Shit boss, you know you’re not sorry.”

“You’re right, I’m not… I need you to get me all the information you can for a new mission.” Adam was young, but he worked hard at the office. “I’m after Anna and Y/N Y/LN.”

“The Runway sisters? They can be all you want, but they ain’t criminals, Lenny.”

Lenny frowned staring at the photographs they attached to the mission file.

“You know the rule number one right, Adam?”

“Don’t ask questions? Are there more rules?” Lenny could hear him typing fast. “All right, the sisters have a fashion show tomorrow night in NYC at seven, then they are going to have dinner at a new exclusive restaurant. I’m sending you their address, their gym schedule, the number of their dentist, the hair salon stylist, oh! And their assistant’s DNA.” Adam joked.

“Since you’re in such a good mood, get me a ticket to NYC, I’ll also need a seat on the fashion show and a table at that restaurant.”

Adam gasped. “The show is only by invitation by the designer and the restaurant had a one-year reservation RSVP, it’s full.”

“Oh, about the plane ticket? Since we’re hitting an elite world and the CIA’s got budget, make it a first-class seat. Good night Adam.”

Hanging up, he couldn’t take his eyes of Y/N photograph.

——

“Miller.”

“Sir, I’m sorry for calling so early, I’m on my way to NYC. Just wanted to ask for your approval to take active part in the mission.”

“Elaborate.”

“Sir, these models only care for parties, designer bags, being covers for the magazines, they can mess up and ruin our work. We’d lose the invaluable progress we have.” The investigation was almost done, they just needed to take the leader down, they had all the targets drafted.

“What do you suggest?”

“Allow me to be their manager, that way I can guide them through the mission.”

“Do whatever you have to do to bring those bastards down.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

As he boarded on the plane, Lenny took the files from his briefcase, he continued studying the girls background. They were French citizens, but divided their time between London, NYC and Los Angeles.

Anna was the trouble maker, the party girl, drugs, alcohol, rebel without a cause, it was written all over her face as well as in the cover of so many gossip portals, a deep contrast with her sister, Y/N she had a career in business, ran her own shoe brand, was an ONU volunteer, part of a program to feed woman in trouble, they were practically the devil and the angel. But even though apparently, she was the good one, he was afraid she would be the one giving him more trouble.

Sipping on his coffee, he then went on to check Anna’s profile, according to the record, for some reason, she wasn’t taking the runway with her sister like they had done in the past so many times. Apparently nobody knew her location and Y/N had been covering her work recently, doing three runways in one day, press conferences and attending numerous social events.

——

“Mr. Richardson, allow me to introduce myself.” Lenny extended his hand at the man. “I’m the new manager to the Y/LN sisters.”

Richardson looked at Lenny and let out a loud fake laugh. “No fucking way, those girls are pure gold, they’re making me earn a shit loads of money, you can get the girls that appear on the pedicure ads.”

Lenny took a look at his watch. “Perhaps I didn’t explain myself correctly.” When Richardson tried to open his drawer to get his weapon, Lenny smirked. “Don’t even bother, it’s not there anymore.”

And his smile grew as the phone started to ring.

“You can’t do that, I signed those girls.”

Lenny looked at him, he was starting to sweat.

“The VP of the agency gave me this.” Lenny informed Richardson and putting the sheet on his desk, he leaned back. “He mentioned he appreciated all your hard work and he would assign you to some model called Cara?”

“He can’t do that!” Richardson stood up, shouting. “I made this agency win millionaire contracts with those sisters!”

“Oh, he said you would bring that up that’s why I suggested you take the Hadid sisters instead.” Lenny’s eyebrows raised, his voice remained calm.

“In that case…”

A sick smile appeared in Richardson’s face. Lenny wanted to throw up.

Closing the button of his suit, Lenny walked to the door. “Don’t worry you can keep your office, I will choose another one.”

It was easier than he thought, this man was pulling the trigger by himself.

Now he needed to go to a fashion show.

Skipping the red carpet, Lenny walked around the building to get in, cameras flashing everywhere, waiters handling glasses of champagne, the mix of perfumes was making him feel sick. All the people looked the same; like they were starving themselves or they were suffering.

The loud music, people taking photographs, bodyguards whispering in the corner, reporters taking notes about the women taking the runway, he felt so out of place.

But soon, Lenny found his spot, it was at the end of the runway, right in the middle where the models would stop before walking back again.

The next thing he knew is the lights went down and the music changed to a dramatic tune. A silhouette was illuminated at the end of the runway, the curtain fell to the ground and revealed the woman behind it.

“That’s Y/N Y/LN.” Said someone on his right, talking to a camera and recording his message. “And she’s wearing Emilio Pucci’s emerald dream dress, the master piece of this collection, with-”

That was all Lenny heard, as Y/N started taking the runway he was completely mesmerized by her presence. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, her steps hitting the runway, her gaze never leaving a spot in front of her, barely blinking.

She moved with such elegance, not looking down to the floor, a serious expression on her features. The emerald dress hugged her figure beautifully, one of the arms was covered in beads that were shining every time it hit the lights, part of her skin was exposed as the piece was asymmetrical.

Lenny saw Y/N placing her hand on her hip and the way she snapped it to the side, made him lose the tie a little around his neck, then in a slow motion, she gave her back at him and she started to walk back right were she had started. Slowly, he let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

Seeing all the details of her and the dress so close made him feel like the air had been kicked out from his body. It all happened in the blink of an eye and soon other models were taking the runway.

He lost count of how many they were, all looked the same but didn’t have the same presence Y/N showed off while doing the walk.

As the lights got down, all the models made a human wall at the sides of the platform, the music stopped and silver papers were thrown down from the ceiling as Y/N appeared once more hand linked to a man with white hair and bear dressed in a navy suit.

The pair walked mid runway and Y/N let go of his hand to start clapping as the rest of the people, then they shared two kisses on the cheek and walked back to disappear.

Lenny sighed and decided to take a walk backstage where he was greeted by models half naked, changing clothes, dresses and shoes all over the floor, cameras filming interviews, assistants going mad… it was a totally different thing from what he just saw.

“I’m looking for Y/N Y/LN.” He asked someone who was walking past him.

“Take the corridor, first door of the dressing rooms.”

Following the instructions, Lenny knocked on the door and a soft come in, invited him to open it. He was surprised to find the top model tidying up around, folding her clothes, she was now wearing a short dress in red tone with colorful beads, her hair free.

“Hi, how can I help you?” She asked when Lenny was lost for words, the pictures didn’t really do any justice to her beautiful features, and there was a genuine smile, in deep contrast to the serious poker face she showed while walking.

“I’m Leonard Miller… Lenny, your new manager.” He offered his hand to her, noticing how she was taller than him.

Y/N looked at him surprised accepting his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Lenny. I’m-”

“Y/N, I know… where’s your sister?”

That seemed to make her uncomfortable and she looked away.

“She didn’t feel well.”

“Is this a common thing? Do you take her place in other runways?”

Y/N shuddered. “Sometimes.”

Lenny decided to not make her feel uncomfortable on their first encounter. “You did it amazingly out there.”

His words seemed to get her attention because the smile grew again in her face.

“Thank you… that means a lot.”

Lenny wanted to ask her if she didn’t hear that often, but a woman appeared rushing Y/N out of the dressing room, demanding some time for an interview and other things he didn’t understand.

Giving him one last look, Y/N walked out, but she turned her head around. “I’ve a full day of work tomorrow, would you like to have breakfast?” She proposed. “To discuss the next projects?”

“Sure.” He was about to say that he’d be going to the same restaurant as her, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

The line to enter the restaurant of course was full, paparazzi across the street flashing, fans behind a barrier shouting, a limo stopped right in front of the main entrance, someone reached out to open the door and the crowd went really loud, the paparazzi wild as Y/N raised her hand and waved at them, a huge smile at the sound of her name. A couple greeted her and posed for a photographer, then they cut the ribbon and inaugurated officially the restaurant, as the people started to walk in, Lenny saw Y/N walking in the opposite direction, to the crowd, shaking hands with the people waiting, taking pictures with them, signing things, hugging those crying inconsolably.

Everything seemed pretty normal to Lenny, given her line of work, this was her world.

Until a man pulled her abruptly and Y/N screamed for help. Lenny was on her in mere seconds, helping her out, releasing her from the man, he held him by the collar of his shirt as security from the restaurant rushed to get him, just in time right before Lenny pulled out his gun.

“Are you alright?” He asked looking for any sign of injury. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“No, no… I signed this engagement a long time ago, I need to be there.” Y/N tried to catch her breath, feeling off for having all the eyes on her, the cameras started to flash suddenly in her face.

“Let her pass!” Lenny requested shoving the people around, an arm protectively on her back.

Once inside, Y/N left the scary moment behind, she greeted everyone, posed for endless photos and made Lenny ask himself how she could always keep the smile on her face, she didn’t seem to be tired, never made a face or said no to anyone. And once she finished with her affairs, she walked to the kitchen to thank the chef and staff. It was two hours later that he caught her coming from the ladies room.

“Perhaps it’s time to head home, Y/N.” Lenny stated firmly, hands inside the pockets of his suit.

“But I’ve to work, this isn’t my free time.”

But his hand was placed firmly in the middle of her back as he walked to the back of the restaurant.

“You’re awake since 6 o’clock, did an interview this morning, the runway and this, you need to rest.”

They drove in silence to her apartment, Y/N felt intoxicated by his lotion, it was so masculine. He had such an intriguing personality, totally different to her previous manager. She was so grateful for not having to work with Richardson anymore, she never liked the way he was always around when the girls were changing their clothes for photo shoots.

Y/N looked at him intensely. “How do you know?”

“I’m your manager now, remember? I’m supposed to know your schedule.”

“That’s why you had a gun?” She asked casually stepping inside her apartment. Lenny was taken aback by her question.

Lenny leaned against the door frame. He knew she would be a trouble. “I’ll tell you if you tell me where I can find your sister.”

Y/N looked away from his piercing blue eyes. “Thank you for helping me tonight.”

He offered her his business card, pointing out his personal number in case she needed something. “My pleasure.”

And with that, Lenny walked away, trying to force himself to stop thinking of that pair of kilometric legs.

***

Part 2

Master list

Lenny blurbs

Ok Can we now talk about how gorgeous is that dress?!!? It’s an Emilio Pucci from the 2011 collection and I’ve been in love with it ever since 💚 just a random fact in case anyone is interested 😉

I hope you enjoy this Lenny series, you know it would mean a lot to know your thoughts about it 🥰 if you want to be added/removed from the tag list just let me know xx

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