#but turning into jean to work through his issues?

[s0fter-sin]

storm saying “connection is a fragile treasure, one we sacrifice so much to maintain” as morph is trying to comfort wolverine only for wolverine to let them when they shift into sabretooth, starting a trend of wolverine only accepting morph’s care and affection when they look like someone else, sacrificing their autonomy in order to express their feelings are you fucking kidding me

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[scarlettmurphy]

STARCROSSED PT2 +ੈ✩‧₊˚ LOGAN HOWLETT.

logan and y/n — where you are completely in love with a man older then you’re father by a good century or so.. whose completely in love with another.

- content warning age gap (is legal) drinking. explicit. swearing. dirty humour. comfort (an ounce). drugs. nsfw. sick. body issues. sh. angst.. maybe happy endings?! pairings: older!logan howlett x xaiver!reader. logan howlett x jean grey.

spoiler: insane yearning and angst i’m sorry im too far gone ☹️ happy ? where.

note this is part two to starcrossed, prepare for even heavier angst!🫶🏻 i didn’t realise how sad this was until i finished the chapter and realised holy shit this is long. part three is already in the works. i hope u enjoy it! make sure to read pt1. it’s a bit diff from the first one but i hope u like it still. also if you’ve seen the movie ten things i hate about u the mid bit of this might remind u of that one scene if u get me :) song: need you now by lady a cos i was listening to it and jeff buckley whilst reading this? also on the timeline im going for like xmen 2 time i think?

tags — @faceache111 @malfoys-demigod @navs-bhat @dilfismz @thisbipuff-isaswiftie @twinky-wink @thewiselionessss @thecraziestcrayon @awhoreforalotofshows @emily-b @jae48 @cxptainbuck @444st4rg1rl 🫶🏻

[i hope you like it!!]

you’d absolutely love to believe that what you heard last night wasn’t what happened but as your mind goes over the previous night as you fought yourself to stay awake during your fathers little class your brain couldn’t forget the continuous moans and little yells that you heard from a few rooms across from your own at the mansion for a good hour or two last night. you can’t help but figure out that logan most certainly found jean and just thinking about it made you feel sick. scott being the main thing on your brain after you got over the fact logan most definitely fucked jean last night.

she was a cheater. what else could you expect? your thoughts swirling in your brain causing an indescribable amount of heart ache as you kept yourself completely quiet and withdrawn from whatever was going on in this lesson, rogue clearly being able to tell you were off as she glanced at bobby giving him a look you picked up on — him shrugging his shoulders in return as you cursed your sadness for being so obvious.

just the thought of jean and logan staring at eachother hurt you but her touching him, his hands over her skin, her lips on his, his mind only on her in that moment and his gaze locked into hers as she let him take her yet again enraged you to another level it was a struggle not to jump into his mind and find out exactly what happened but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t. your brain fighting with your heart in every way as you felt sick with all those pictures of the scenario you were forming for yourself.

so from that knowledge as you sat in class you knew you needed to stop liking him for good. he didn’t like you, he was throwing it in your face. you heard it all and it hurt you too much to bare. you didn’t even wanna look at him — that single thought of contact sending you crazy. you couldn’t even bring yourself to see him today. you didn’t want too, you couldn’t. seeing jean as you passed through the kitchen earlier was enough to make you nearly cry and immediately stop that tiny breakfast you had made.

you really couldn’t deal with this. one bit. you never did well with emotional pain — physical was something you could endure, yet emotional was always something you couldn’t stomach ever since you were a little girl.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd been avoiding him like the plague. literally. whenever you saw him at the end of the halls you'd turn the other away, force a little smile and act like you had somewhere to go if you were in conversation and it had been like that for two weeks. two weeks had passed since one of your normal conversations, the friendly chats you admired in your brain and made out to be more, the little touches he'd give you that you couldn't comprehend was only a friend thing to do, the way he'd hug you.. the deep conversations, the way he'd sometimes kiss your forehead before you left for bed, watching the rain together and just joking together all something you had put in the past. that had been gone for two weeks and to say it was breaking you would be an understatement.

you could tell others has noticed the practical borderline dissociation within you since you had been a little mute recently not that it was specially due to logan (it completely all was) but you didn't want it to be obvious, you hated that it could be perceived that way so you knew you had to do something about it. who knew heartache for one that didn't love you back could destroy you this badly from the inside out?

.. and today was no different on the logan front. you saw him once today in the halls ushering something to hank — the two in bustling conversation and you made sure not to risk it by going to class, to upset over it all to deal with another short horrible conversation where you were nothing but cold to him as you tried to cut down any romantic feelings you had for him. every time you spoke now you could see the confusion and frustration in his eyes, the mental image to much to bare as you went on hiding in your room and pondering and that’s where you had been since — buried in clothing choices as you tried to stomach down the anxiety that had been growing in you over the fact it was jeans birthday party today and you would have to make an appearance after you had been a hermit since you’d got your heart broken by a guy that didn’t even know. rogue and bobby being the only two people you had really spoke too since the shut down yet their concern had been growing annoying as rogue clearly told bobby about the little crush she could’ve guessed, and got out of you when the two of you were high together a few months ago, you had on logan. bobby actually giving you little options of guys you could date to get over someone which was all you needed to hear when you realised rogue had told him as he literally mentioned hank who they knew you recently hiked with since he had been bothering you over your melancholy, yet you had left before it was a full fledge little argument.

just the thought of having to socialise with him and the others and step out of the hole you’d built for yourself to hide in irritated you especially for jean of all people’s party, your ‘smidge’ of hatred for the woman who had really been rude to you since she’d known you not because of logan, because god on that front she wins and it feels like she’s married to him despite her ties to scott, but on the power front. she knew you had powers incomparable to hers that you hardly even showcased magneto being someone who taught you many things when you were younger, your own parents being raven and charles. of course you had powers which were indescribable.

and most of the time you wanted to use it on that bitch. you were lucky she couldn’t get into your twisted mind to find that fact out.

you let out a little sigh as you decided on the black mini skirt and sweater — you finally having an excuse for the fall outfit and lack of dress because it was october which has always been your favourite season and best time of year yet this year that didn’t apply because you haven’t been hardly able to enjoy it because of isolation you’d forced yourself into.

y/n had to swallow her own self pity down as she leaned over to her perfume bottle on the drawer next to her mirror as she took in the image of her body in the skirt. her shrinking body, a scoff leaving her lips as she wasn’t happy with what she saw in the reflection. she never could be. the aroma of the perfume not masking her feelings at all as she put on some dc martens paired with black tights. the perfect little outfit yet she was sure jean would be outshining her on that front. god she didn’t even wanna imagine logan’s eyes being locked onto jean tonight, the heart ache already unbearable to comprehend as she swallowed a lump that formed in her throat. that aching feeling hadn’t gone away since the start of knowing logan the way she did, maybe that was a sign from the people above about how destined it was.. or how not it was.

these muddled thoughts led her too some early drinking as if she wouldn’t be getting shitfaced later. pregaming alone which is a bit self pity full as she swallowed the burning liquor down her throat, the whiskey hitting her softly and slowly enough to give her the confidence to leave her room twenty minutes later for this party.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

the decorations were perfect, the present corner was overflowing and the students and people were everywhere. jean being clearly the popular girl from the looks of this party, as if y/n already didn’t know that, as the blasting music just made her more aware of the scenario she was in as she fought the urge to look around the room for logan as she went straight over to the bar that had been made. the party was the perfect one a girl, woman, could ask for and y/n could feel the jealously bubbling already that she bit down as she forced a friendly smile to join her lips.

walking through the dancing groups of people, there hardly even being any spaces to walk unless you wanted to bump into a coked up or insanely drunk teenager or wade. who she was lucky to get past without having to talk to yet, no matter how much she did like and enjoy his company she couldn’t deal with his jokes right now which she could guess who’d they’d be centered around, she knew he knew to some extent she was just lucky he hadn’t out rightly said it. that would be too much pity for her to deal with, that coming from wade being another level of pathetic.

the second she leant against the bar she managed to grab the busy barmaids attention giving her a soft nod and polite smile as she didn’t notice the figure beside her as she asked for a coke and vodka.

“thank god you’re showing your face — i thought i was going to have to clone you to get a good conversation.” hank rolled out his tipsiness showing as he pulled y/n into a tight hug when he was sat down on the stool. y/n letting out a low chuckle as she hugged him back nicely, his presence being a little surprise she tried not to seem so bothered about.

“hiya hank.” y/n said softly as the barmaid came over with her drink, placing it next to her. “thanks.” y/n nodded out as hank placed his hand on the stool next to him as she immediately grabbed it and took a swig.

“come! sit.” he ushered in with a drunken smile on his face, a bright one as usual, as he patted the bar stool next to him inviting her to sit and before y/n could even speak up in reply as she slid down on the stool hank bit in.

“where the hell have you been?” he abruptly said bluntly, putting a little look on his face off one that’s pissed off as y/n felt the guilt rush through her as she wrapped her fingers around the glass drowning her truth in the drink as she took a big sip off the liquor acting as if that didn’t taste appalling as she shrugged her shoulders at hanks obvious question which has an obvious answer to that she’d play off as a stupid claim if questioned about it.

“—i’ve been busy! controlling powers— small missions, and that.” y/n lied out.

hank furrowed his eyebrows at his words, giving her a knowing look before he shook his head swiftly at what she said. seeing right through her little lie he truly knew nothing much about what the truth was or not as he took a little sip of his beer.

“i know you but i’m not pushing it— rather you bite of logan’s heads rather then mine.” hank said out lowly as y/n’s eyebrows furrowed at his comment as a look of confusion spread over her face at the mention of him but before she could question hank on it she was met with two hands around her waist, pulling her tightly back purposely.

“hello pretty little liars, you’re aria?” wade said loudly into her ear his drunkenness obvious as y/n scoffed, him clearly stating that because her outfit choice as he squeezed her even tighter y/n’s eyes rolling as she elbowed him playfully back as his hands on her faltered as he playfully shoved her back.

“—elsa! you made it snow yet?” y/n said back to him as she was met with the sound of his laughter as he pulled on the stool next to y/n, making the guy who was sat on it mutter a curse before wade sent him a glare and then went speed walking away clearly a boy as young as fourteen or thirteen who just got the shit scared out him for, wade’s harsh look as he sqt down on the stool as he met y/n’s gaze.

“you know i have honey.” he nodded out with a smirk as hank leaned into the twos space.

“shots anyone?” hank rolled out, fixing his glasses as wade enthusiastically said a quick yes, y/n adding to the fire. “—very much needed.” y/n drove out as wade sent her a little look of knowing yet he held back the urge to call her out on it. he was being a ‘good’ friend in his eyes anyway, he didn’t wanna hear her say things about logan when he knew a few things himself on how the other party felt.

hank calling the barmaid over as wade pulled y/n’s stool closer to his that knowing look still present on his face as he played with the knowledge he had a bit just in a little playful way.

“you seen the birthday girl yet?..gave her a gift?” wade said sarcastically knowing the two didn’t really see eye to eye on a LOT of things as y/n gave him a little glare, him having been present for many of their little disagreements.

“luckily i haven’t, as i’ve brung nothing.” y/n rumbled back as wade nudged her playfully with her words as hank grabbed the tray of shots from the barmaid— y/n’s eyes widening once she saw how many shots he had ordered. “fifteen?” y/n broke out with a raised eyebrow as hank chuckled as he took one, downing it straight away before grabbing another as wade spoke up cockily.

“who’s pants are you trying to get into?” wade rolled out, his voice sly as he grabbed two for himself as y/n leaned over and took one ready to get shitfaced, maybe that’d stop her mind from falling back onto logan every other second her longing heart internally hating this situation more and more as she yearned to see him but she bit back the urge to even look around for him. halting that urge by taking a shot.

“preferably anyone with a pulse and no dick between their legs.” hank said right as y/n took another shot, her nearly choking on the burning liquid which was a horrible mix of vodka and god knows what.

“i can tuck.” wade said lowly as this made it worse, y/n nudging wade, shaking her head as she held back her laugh as she swallowed the shot she just took. “disgusting!” she rolled out as she took another, downing it before placing the shot down on the table.

“ah! sweeties jealous.” wade spoke up sarcastically with that all familiar cocky smile on his face with that teasing glint in his eyes as he handed another shot y/n’s way as she took it gracefully as they all cheersed their glasses together. that being just one of the about eight times they did that within the next thirty to sixty minutes as y/n bit back her thoughts with copious amounts of shots and soon enough they had gone through a good four or so tray off shots and a few drinks each.

every passing minute y/n felt her mind get closer and closer to the edge as every time she felt that aching feeling grow she’d swallow it back with another sip of liquor or large shot — wades jokes passing the time and hanks yapping and her own occasional drunken chime in making her mind a mess as hank got another row of shots.

the songs and wade and hank’s voices becoming a blur in y/n’s mind as she swallowed nothing but the truth with those shots. every sip feeling like more heartache she couldn’t stop having.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n was practically stuck too the bar stool, her eyes scanning the crowd occasionally (by occasionally around five times if not more a minute) as she looked for him. her mind lingering on a certain someone as it always tended to do the liquor just amplifying those feelings as hank spoke up.

“you know— you look like your mum.”

his words caused y/n’s attention to snap over to hank as she raised an eyebrow, wade making a little ‘oo’ in the background even if he couldn’t help but agree with his comment as he sipped on the cocktail he had ordered a few drinks previously that had just been laying there on the side. the bartender making a fuck ton of profit from these three miserables.

“very dead?” y/n said sarcastically as hank gave her a little look — clearly a little annoyed she didn’t take the comment seriously as he leaned a little closer to her.

“beautiful you idiot.” hank added out, his words making her eyebrows furrow a bit as she took in his drunken words as she gave him a little a smile — swallowing the depreciating joke she was close to making as she took a sip of her drink.

“thank you hank.” y/n nodded out calmly as wade butted in.

“—fucking hell, incoming for angry jacob twilight wannabe.” wade cursed out as y/n’s gaze moved over wade following his eyes to where he was looking, her heart feeling as if it was flipping and twisting in her chest as she watched logan walk into the bar games room as she furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of jean following him angrily. her looking perfect as ever.

yet before y/n could think another thought she locked eyes with logan from across the room — their eyes meeting as she felt a weight lift immediately onto her as she swallowed a lump that formed in her throat at just the sight of him. it felt as if time has frozen just as they looked to each other , his eyes taking everything about her in as she did the same his way.

he practically immediately walked over, more like stomped over, as he seemed clearly agitated. more then usual as his eyes dawned onto wade and hank before resting back to y/n as he stopped in his tracks in front of the seated three.

“who thought getting a teenager shitfaced was a good idea?” logan nearly growled out, giving wade a glare as y/n’s eyes lingered back on jean who saw who he was talking to and turned away her being even more pissed then him, y/n holding the urge to go into her mind and find out why as she brung her gaze onto logan after seeing jean walk off somewhere else in the room, her patience clearly wearing thin. her wanting to make a little childish comment about how she wasn’t when wade spoke up.

“gods probably.” wade rolled out in reply as logan scoffed at what he said.

“y/n.” logan said, her eyes meeting his own as she took in his appearance. her eyes lingering on the chain that was wrapped around his neck — one he told her was something jean gave him when he first became an xmen, something he hasn’t worn in months, this fact only making her feel a number of horrible thoughts as she grabbed her drink and took a mean swig. swallowing her own building self pity as she forced a fake smile logan immediately knew to be fake.

“hi.” she said swiftly after she put her drink back down on the table — his eyebrow raising a little at her hostility as he looked to wade, hank the back to her.

“uh—“ logan spoke up, trying to find the words to say as he looked at her a bit lost for words at how she was acting as he swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat — feeling his frustration rise as he tried to control it, “where have you been?” he said lowly, hank raising his eyebrow at how this little conversation seemed weirdly tension filled. wade knew why, he could’ve called her little feelings for him back when she first met the guy but now he couldn’t help see how serious it was because off the way she was looking at him and how it was affecting her.

he couldn’t even brung himself to but in as he buried himself in his drink. hank doing the same.

“i’ve been busy. but i’ve been around— i saw you two days ago.” she said quickly, shifting in her seat a little as his eyes almost felt as if they burnt through her.

“you didn’t stay,” he said taking a pause as he looked at her, taking in just how intoxicated she seemed as he tried to analyse it, “like you uh- normally, do.”

his words touched a nerve on y/n as she felt that all familiar heart ache grow y/n trying to act as if the feeling inside her wasn’t killing her right now and ripping her to shreds as she kept her gaze on him, his eyes on her making her think and feel a number of things she hated.

“—had somewhere to be.” she replied quickly, his eyebrows raising at her bluntness to her reply as he knew something was off. he sensed it, the drunkness only adding to his worry as he went to step closer when he was cut off by a voice behind him.

y/n eyes dawned on the sight off jean, a tight silver dress on showcasing her curves as her red hair flowed down by her side as she looked at logan who hadn’t even brung himself to met her gaze yet. y/n immediately being hit with a truck load of insecurities just with a glance to the older women who had the only guy she’d ever loved wrapped around her finger.

y/n’s heart feeling as if it was stepped on as she kept her gaze on him — time feeling a little slow motion.

“logan—now.” jean said harshly.

“lo- logan.” she said again, y/n not leaving logan’s gaze as he swallowed his own spit as he eventually brung his gaze over to jean.

“logan— he knows.” she said harshly, her words a little quiet as they were clearly just meant for logan’s ears yet y/n heard them. “now! come on?” she questioned out frustratedly, saying that to grip his attention as logan looked to jean then back to y/n, wade and hank watching like it was a drama.

the air felt thick with some sort of something as y/n swallows, her eyes on him as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“be careful kid, remember to slow down.” he rolled out before he turned away with jean going right to her side as y/n scoffed as he walked off turning her attention back to the barmaid — not feeling logan’s eyes burning back to her as he took a long glance her way before disappearing off with jean into the party to sort whatever was happening.

y/n rolled her eyes the second she turned her attention back over to the bar as she looked down at the bar table, swallowing her thoughts down with the rest of her vodka as she felt the others eyes on her. they sensed on the tension — it was impossible not too.

“so they’re fucking again.” hank commented lowly and cluelessly. his words being like a gut punch to y/n as she bit down on her tongue as she called back over the barmaid, leaning over and ordering a couple shots as she sat back down in her seat.

“mm, most definitely.. hell for scott.” wade ushered out lowly, feeling a sense of guilt as he saw the way y/n’s eyes fell as y/n tried to mute out their conversation in the background as she welcomed the shots with open arms as she pulled the tray closer to her as she heard wade and hank whisper behind her as they leant over to gossip about the rumours of jean and scott being over as y/n’s heart felt as if it was plummeting and beating as fast as it ever had with every shot she took. the information she was hearing just making her internal pain grow worse as she tried to drink it away every shot seemingly enhancing her hurt as the metal images she were getting hurt her brain as she felt the urge to do something about it.

her mind full of relentless unlimited thoughts that were screaming at her as she placed the last empty shot glass she had down — the shots helping limit the voices to some extent as the barmaid came over and refilled them without another word most likely sensing her anguish as y/n nodded to her with as much of a smile she could muster up as she thought back to the conversation with logan.

“we’re going to dance— you coming?” wade spoke to y/n as that brung her out her gaze with the bottom of the shot glass as she shook her head, “no—thanks,” she slurred out as hank gave her a small nod and pat on the shoulder before they disappeared of into the crowd leaving her alone after saying their be right backs— her lips immediately around another glass as she finished the rest of the drinks thay were laid out in front-of her.

y/n either needed fresh air and a sick bucket or the man she loved and craved, and she was going with the latter. her desires only heightened which was making just about everything worse due to the mess the alcohol had started to cause her brain and body.

her heart pounding as she stood up, everything going messy and spin like as she stumbled through the crowd. her mind on one thing and one thing only, one person, as she got pushed around a bit by the dancing people as she made her way out the bar room she was in. her eyes searching the place as she looked for him in every corner, in every face, every person, every laugh, every grunt and every noise. she was searching for him like she had been doing within her heart ever since she’d know the man.

yet what she didn’t expect to see when she turned the corner was him right there. logan right there in his bubble of perfection as she saw it. her eyes taking him in as she saw him in the hallway — a smile joining her lips as she started to walk over to him planning what she was going to say in her brain. how she was going to do any of this? she didn’t even know what she had planned, she just wanted to speak to him. she needed to see his smile. she missed it. she wanted to make him laugh like usual, she wanted to kiss him, feel his touch. she needed it, it was destroying her to not have him. why was she ignoring him for the past two weeks? she should just tell him. nothing bad could hap—

“mine.” she swore she could make out logan saying, her eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as she took one little step closer to where he was as her eyes dawned on a certain red head with a killer smirk on her lips as she had a tight grip on his chain.

and with that every thought she just had was crushed within the space of five or so seconds as she heard jean’s light hearted chuckle next, her voice grating against y/n’s mind as she swallowed her own spit back down as she made sure she couldn’t be seen by them. feeling the sick feeling rising in her as she watched logan’s hands wrap around jean’s waist as she pulled him closer to her in a teasing action that broke y/n’s heart in two.

she was frozen in her tracks, watching as the one she loved was with the one he loved.

“you’re mine.” ringing in her ears as she just made out what he had said to jean as his words sent a chill through y/n’s body as she felt the tears start to boil in her eyes as she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the scene. her mouth fallen gap as she watched as he roughly had her against the door jean’s hand going down to the handle of said door as y/n watched as jean pulled him in the room with her roughly.

the door slamming behind them as she felt her beating out her chest, her breath shaky and hitched as she swallowed.

and when she heard a little squeal come from the room over the music a few seconds or minutes later, she couldn’t tell how long had passed, that’s when she knew she needed to go before she turned into a public laughing stock as she turned on her heel — shakily making her way through the crowd again, unbeknownst to the tears dropping down her cheeks as she fought her way through the dancing crowd as she tried to get the hell out of here as she thought she was fighting back her emotions, yet she really wasn’t doing too good of a job with it.

“watch it!” someone yelled out over the music to y/n as she shuffled past them quickly, stumbling out and disappearing through the back door as she made her break for it. her heart feeling broken to an extreme it hadn’t felt before which was only amplified by the alcohol as she felt her brain chemistry formed for logan be destroyed within a matter of moments. seeing it in front of her own eyes being completely different from assuming it had happened.

the fact they were doing that right now she just couldn’t and didn’t want too comprehend it. it hurting her so much she felt as if she was going to be sick, she could feel it to the extremist point that when she managed her way to the end of the courtyard where her little spot was with her childhood swing set, where she’s surprised she even remembered the whereabouts off in this state, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning down into a bush shakily.

her mouth watering, her throat burning with liquid as y/n threw up into the bush her heart pounding ridiculously as she felt the tears burning against her cheek as she didn’t even notice the feeling off two strong hands holding her hair back. her body shaking as she kept being sick, feeling the acid burn her throat as she felt a strong hand round her hair pulling it into a ponytail and another hand around her fragile body to keep her up.

her body flinching a little at the touch as the person leaned a little closer as y/n was sick some more, “it’s okay—“ a low voice ushered out as y/n couldn’t help be sick again, leaning down closer into the bush nearly tripping into it as the person held her upright. their hand snacking onto her waist as y/n leaned back into their touch. basically tripping into it as she let out a shaky breath as she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her top.

her eyes moving up onto an all familiar face and she instantly cursed in her brain as he managed to move her over to the swings, sitting her down in one of two seats as she clung to the chain of it leaning her body against it freely as she let out a little cry.

“you’re good.” scott said softly his voice low as he spoke into a comforting tone that didn’t completely soothe her as she felt the tears trail down her cheek as he kneeled down — his hands stabilising the swing that was rocking a little as he looked up at her making sure she was okay on the swing. the cold air hitting the twos faces as the moon shone down on the courtyard, the faint sound of pop music from the mansion being completely distant to both of them.

“scott.” she managed to say, him being able to tell how far gone she was by the way she slurred her words as if her crying and throwing up didn’t prove that enough. his eyes on her as he moved her hair out the way for her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she held back a little sob which wasn’t held back that well as she let out a shaky whimper.

“w-why— doesn-t he love me?” she spoke out quickly, her breath shaky and her voice high pitched as she let out little sniffles in between words, the weight of those making a sad smile tug on scott’s lips as he kept his hand on her face trying to keep her upright which was sort of impossible as he kept his comforting warm hand against her face. just trying to make her feel okay.

“—he—“ scott cut himself off before he moved closer to her, trying to keep her calm, “he does love you okay?”

y/n shook her head at scott’s words as she let out a muffled sob against her wrist, shaking her head as scott wiped the tears from her cheeks. “not like i want him to.” she rolled out in a slur, scott feeling his heart beat quicken at her little admission as if he didn’t know how she felt over him before as he moved his finger across her cheek in a soft circular motion, his hand cupping her jaw.

“hey- he does okay?” scott said quickly as he moved her jaw down so she met his eyes again, his tone soft as he moved himself to the other swing next to her — the second he was sat him moving his swing closer to her own. tangling the chains of his swing up a little in doing so.

“he does.” scott added out again, y/n not believing him at all as she swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat as she leaned herself again the hand that was cupping her face as she nearly tumbled off the swing.

her biting down on her tongue as she let out a little squeal as scott placed his hand on her back supporting and holding her up as a little chuckle left her lips as she leaned forward a little. scott not letting his hand move as worry was evident on his face as y/n turned to him a sad smile on her lips, tears still evident on her face.

“i wish.” he heard her whisper as he swallowed, his own voice breaking a little, “come on. okay? he doesn’t know what he’s missing right now.— he doesnt see you liking him.” scott said softly, giving her a little playful nudge as y/n started to lose the energy to even speak off it as she felt another tear slip down her cheek.

his words were taking the weight off her shoulders as she moved in the swing a little, scott’s comforting hand on her back which was now sort off around her waist making her sure she wasn’t going to fall as she moved a tiny bit closer to him on her swing. their swings touching a little.

“you deserve better then jean-y bitch.” she managed out lowly, scott not being able to help the chuckle that escaped his lips at how she put it as he looked out at the mansion in front of them. the moon present in his red tinted glasses.

“yeah— i’m starting to realise that.” he chuckled out as y/n gave him a drunken smile in return as she locked eyes with scott. someone she’d hardly noticed was this nice mostly due to the words logan remarked about him all the time as her smile couldn’t help but grow as she looked at him. the air softening between the two as y/n felt tiredness fall over her as she leant against the chains a little as she slowly moved her gaze over to the moon.

a few moments of silence passes before scott spoke up.

“y/n?” scott managed out trying to grab her attention as he saw he eyes wondering a bit. his eyebrows furrowing when he heard no answer in return, her silence scaring him as he nudged her.

“y/n?” he quickly said out once again, nudging her a little as he saw how limp her body was and noticed her closed eyes.

“fuck— y/n.” he ushered out quickly as he stood from his seat and went right to her side as he kneeled down, tapping her face to try and catch her attention. y/n stirring a little at his action as he stood up, pulling her up with him as he placed his hand around her waist as he tried to shake her a little which did the job as her eyes fluttered open to meet his own.

a drunken smile joining on her lips as a tear dropped down her cheek that she didn’t even notice as she chuckled a little, leaning close to him as she swayed a little.

“scott.” she said lowly as scott gave her a low chucke as she placed her arm around him drunk on, him wiping the tear of her cheek softly something he’d done a number of times since being in her presence tonight.

“okay it’s time to go sleep— im taking you to bed.” he explained softly as y/n looked at him with a little furrowed brow as he started to walk, helping her walk alongside him her hardly even able to realise she was walking as she leaned against his touch.

“you’re good.” he said calmly to her as they walked through the dark courtyard, the illuminated by the moon field of grass between them and the bustling school /xmansion being the only light to guide them. his grip on her tightening softly when she nearly tripped over her own feet, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he realised just how long of a walk it was to the mansion. him sighing as he held her upright. “nearly there.” he muffled out as y/n leaned to him.

“—‘m gonna be sick.” she quickly flushed out before throwing her head over in the other direction as scott patted her back and stopped in his tracks at her words as she was sick again — him holding the urge got to be sick too because the smell as he focused on helping her. his heart skipping a beat bit as he felt his anger growing over logan putting her in this situation where she was so drunk she was being sick or the fact that she was being sick just thinking about logan it made his blood boil as he felt his jaw clench — his eyebrows twitching as he helped her get it all out, whispering little comforts as he soothed her back.

“good girl. “ he said lowly as y/n brung her gaze into him once more him giving her a small sad smile as he placed his hand back around her waist to guide her, “cmon, bed.” he whispered out to her as they started walking again. having to go through the party definitely going to be a difficult task as scott tightened his grip around her waist as they walked past a couple people hanging around the outside area of the building as the music met y/n’s ears as once they got into the building scott called for people to move out the way as he made y/n stay close to him. her eyes wondering over everyone in her drunken haze as scott helped her over to the staircase which was through a couple wide, filled rooms.

her swearing she came across wade and hank in the corner with two twins and colossus’s doing a certain something to wade, her eyebrows furrowing at what she believed to have just seen as she shook it off as she met scott’s words.

“you need to be carried or are you okay?” scott asked as if he was babying her which sent a wave of comfort through her body as she let the question hang in her brain as she tried to form answer to it as she leaned herself against scott.

“‘u—‘i can—“

“scarlett?” logan roughly called out in a raised voice towards scott as he came over out of nowhere. scott rolling his eyes as he quickly picked y/n up, y/n being in scott’s arms as her eyes fluttered open to see logan to the side of them. scott’s jaw immediately clenching as he continued up the stairs without cracking a word to logan as he rushed after the pair. his own anger frustratingly high as he tried to control himself and stop himself from doing anything stupid.

“scott?” logan said harshly, his anger growing as he didn’t get an answer as he tried to get the man to look at him.

“lo-“ y/n slipped out, her voice muffled as she leaned into scott’s arms more as he carried her bridal style up the stairs. her realising his presence, logan’s eyes casting onto y/n and then back to scott. his eyes darkening.

“what have you done to her?!” logan rushed out, his voice cracking with worry as scott ignored his words as he made it to the top of the stairs and continued on down to where he’s pretty sure her room is.

“scott!” logan shouted again trying to get his attention as scott opened the door with his back, giving logan a harsh glare as he walked right over to the bed where he placed y/n down carefully on it. her drunken self pouring the cover over her figure as she rolled over in bed. letting out a little muffled whimper as her head laid on the pillow.

the second scott having let go off y/n he immediately turned to logan scott not giving logan another chance to talk before he connected his fist with his jaw, logan been taken aback a little as he raised an eyebrow, scott looking right at him as logan pushed him back harshly.

“what the fuck did you do?” logan cursed out quickly, scott scoffing as he held back taking his glasses off because of the fact it was a party, not logan’s funeral even despite how much he wanted it to be.

“you should ask yourself that, prick.” scott said harshly. logan’s eyebrows raising at his words as scott pushed himself past logan without another word.

logan immediately grabbing scott’s arm harshly, his claws aching to come out as he met his gaze.

“what do you mean by that?” logan said quickly, his eyes locked onto scott’s as so many questions flowed his brain. his thoughts enlaced with y/n and the worry he had for the girl as scott harshly brung his hand back to his side after shaking logan’s grip off — giving logan a stern look as he looked him up and down judgementally, “god, you are so stupid. you’d think being born in the 19th century would make you slightly smarter then a twenty nine year old.” scott scoffed out lowly, his words only angering logan more as he shoved scott against the wall.

his claws extending as he pressed them close to his throat — his threat there as scott swallowed.

“tell me.” he said harshly as scott couldn’t help a certain look cross his face. completely frustrated by logan, his heart aching for jean in this moment as he stared at what she had clearly picked over himself that enraging him yet also y/n and what she had just gone through herself. the heart ache something he could relate too and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. yet right now he would logan however.

“she saw you and jean you idiot. meaning i did too. meaning— fuck you.” scott said quickly as he clicked his visor getting the right aim, logan jumping back as scott lazered his chest. his beam going right through as a loud grunt escaped his lips as logan in immediate retaliation clawed scott in the side, scott pushing back the whimper threatening to leave his lips as logan as he got ready to take another shot at the man.

logan raising his eyebrow as the two stared eachother down, “i’ll heal,” logan rolled out his words only angering scott worse as he went to raise his glasses again as logan roughly placed his hand on his chest to stop him, his claws retracted back in.

“i wish you wouldn’t.” scott bit out harshly as logan scoffed at his words, keeping his anger limited as he rolled his eyes.

“jean only needed someone to talk too—“

“you mean fuck.” scott said out harshly, jean crossing logan’s mind as his jaw clenched his gaze darkening as he couldn’t bring himself to shake his head. not that he was thinking about scott’s feelings — right now his mind pondering on another.

scott saw how logan couldn’t even fight back with words — tutting as he pushed him back. logan’s hands falling to his side as the two didn’t break eye contact.

“you know we’re engaged.” scott spit out like venom, his words causing a look of surprise to wash over logan’s face as his mouth fell open, “well we were.” he added out.

“you were— what?” logan fumbled out, confusion written on his face as scott rolled his eyes at his reaction. not that he cared deep down, but it felt like he did right now.

“great.. she didn’t tell you. like she didn’t tell anyone,” he said lowly, “not that it makes it any better what you’ve done,” scott casted out as a few seconds finding passed as he tried to find the words which only come out anger filled, “she’s a caniving cheating bitch.” scott cursed out, logan not bringing himself to react to the words scott ushered about jean as he looked at scott.

logan was about to say something to scott when the sound of y/n’s soft little snores filled the room which made the tension even higher as scott and logan glared at eachother.

“maybe just think next time before you fuck someone else’s girl, again.” scott managed out as he pushed past logan to leave the room.

“i don’t think she’s your girl.” logan called back out before he left as scott’s jaw clenched at his words as he opened the door.

“not anymore. you can have her.” he said harshly as he paused as he knew he had to say something.

“—just think about how y/n feels, because i know hurts.” scott spoke lowly as he left without another word clearly implying a certain fact.

logans heart skipped a beat at his words as the door shut behind scott, his mind feeling as if it was in a war as the tension built in the room immediately. the air feeling thick as he swallowed his own spit not bringing himself to call something back to him as his words couldn’t even bring themselves to form right in his brain yet alone out loud.

his eyes dawned back onto the sleeping girl y/n laying there. looking so soft and innocent, completely sound asleep and his heart couldn’t help twang a little as he bit down on the inside of his cheek — many bustling thoughts cursing his brain as he wished he had never thought of them.

his mind lingering on the thought of jean and what just occurred within him and scott as he came down from the pain that was inflicted on him his chest rising rapidly to a more normal flow as he healed. as he focused his gaze on y/n as he furrowed his eyebrows over what scott had said, trying to wrap his brain around it.

logan’s eyes dawning on y/n. guilt seeping through him as he felt his heart gain that aching feeling y/n had been riddled with since the day she first realised she was in love with the man as he sat on the foot of the bed. his mind feeling melted as he placed his hand on her own his big, gruff and rough feeling hand taking the soft touch of her hand into his own grip. her hand being half if not less of his size as he soothed her. her touch being another level of comfort he didn’t recall experiencing since he was a young boy that feeling sending memories flooding through his brain he couldn’t focus on now.

feeling all the emotions boiling up he’d been fighting to push down as he looked down at her asleep body. what was all of this? she had been distant, almost rude and very cold and scott’s words were making that why question he had on his mind for the past two weeks clearer.

the implication of scott’s words hung in his mind as he looked at her. him eventually bringing himself over to the spare place next to her in the bed not wanting to leave her alone for the night too worried about how drunk she was and if anything could happen in the night.. or anyone else drunkily walking in. but he couldn’t help deep down in knowing that those were just excuses to stay within her presence. asleep or not.

carefully building a gap between the two of them as he laid down — no matter how strong the urge to hug her and comfort her was — as he let out a rough exhale as he closed his eyes.

only to open them three seconds later to look at her. his eyes not leaving her peacefully asleep body for the rest of the night.

[sunvmars]

only you || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)

*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | masterlist

word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.

"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.

The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really, but just how drunk is she, exactly?"

Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.

Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.

"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.

Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."

He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.

Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.

You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.

"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"

He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"

You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.

"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.

Right. His home.

"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.

He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.

How could he say no to that?

"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.

He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.

Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.

"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.

Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.

"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."

"Will do-"

Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.

The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."

"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.

"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.

When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."

"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.

You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.

"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.

Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"

Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."

Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.

You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.

"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."

"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.

Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.

A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.

When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.

When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.

He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.

He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.

"I don't think I'm right for you."

The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.

He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"

The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."

"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"

"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."

"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"

All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."

He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."

Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.

"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.

"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.

“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”

Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.

“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.

As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.

He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.

The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.

You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."

"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.

He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."

The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.

The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.

Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.

The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.

The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.

The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.

Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.

He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.

Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.

"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Thank you," you say.

It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.

"You okay?"

"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.

The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.

Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.

Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.

He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."

The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."

Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."

"Anytime, truly," he replies.

There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.

It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.

You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."

"I just... I have one question, that okay?"

"Hm?"

Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"

When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.

"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"

"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."

Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.

Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.

"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.

You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.

His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"

A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.

Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.

You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.

He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.

But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.

Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.

"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.

You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.

You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.

If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.

"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.

"I don't know..."

"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."

"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."

"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.

You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.

"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."

Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."

Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.

"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."

A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."

"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.

He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."

The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.

Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.

"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he responds.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.

"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"

"Steve?"

"...Yes?"

"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."

Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.

With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.

He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.

Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.

Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.

"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"

"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."

Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"

The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.

Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."

You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.

The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.

Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.

Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.

Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.

He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"

You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.

Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.

"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."

"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."

A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.

"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"

Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.

"Angel, what're you-"

Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.

Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.

You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?

The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.

His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.

"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.

A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”

Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.

“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”

You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.

"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.

"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.

Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.

You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.

"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.

You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"

Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."

Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.

After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.

Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.

You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.

He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.

After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.

"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.

"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"

"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.

Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.

He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.

"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.

"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."

A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."

"For what, angel?"

"For being so...you."

You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.

The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.

"'M glad it's you."

"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."

Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.

Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.

Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."

He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.

taglist!

@pigeonmama @rogersbarber @buckysprettybaby

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[dcxdpdabbles]

DCXDP FIC IDEA: The Dauntless Matchmaker

Danny Fenton is short on cash. He has been short on cash almost all his adult life, but usually, he can pull through untill the last minute before breaking and asking his family for help.

It's a pain in a half trying to find a job that is flexible enough to accommodate his "Health" issues.

He needs time off to keep his agreement. See back when he was sixteen, he realized that the ghosts that had been bothering him were all trying to challenge him for his power.

At first he looked like easy prey- being new and all- but the more fights he won the more his reputation rose and that made the ghosts attack less frequently.

They just became harder since the big guns wanted a crack at him. Danny proposed that the fights be in neutral grounds- the ghost zone- since fights in Amity Park were ruining his haunt.

Haunt Rights were highly protected and respected in the Infinite Releams.

His adversaries agreed under the condition that Danny responded to the battles within two hours; otherwise, they would haunt him in the human world.

Ghost fighting in the Infinite Releams to keep the ghosts busy, and nowadays, only the strongest bothered him like a bi-weekly challenge from dead beings that don't understand scheduling.

It worked out.....until he couldn't explain why he was missing so often in the human world. With the help of some friendly ghosts, he was able to fake a diagnosis of some muscle disorder and has been living with the excuse that he would go MIA because of it. He missed a lot.

Often enough to have almost every job he's gotten to fire him.

This brings him to his current problem. Yes, Danny can argue that he has a disability but to do so would mean having someone look into it and realize it's not real.

So when Charlie from the Tea MadHouse tells him not to bother returning tomorrow after a four-day-long battle, he can only sigh and turn in his tea maker apron.

He might have to call his parents to ask for help on this month's rent. That's a bitter pill to swallow.

If only there was a job that he could do that had no problem with him taking multiple days off without notice.

"Pardon me. I need a moment of your time." a voice calls out. Danny twists around, turning his neck slightly downwards to meet the green-eyed stare of a young boy.

"I have a proposition for you. My elder brother requires a fake lover to fool our family butler into thinking that he has moved on from the heartbreak of his last disastrous relationship. Not that anyone could blame Dowd for ending things with Drake. In any case, seeing as I have witnessed your unemployment, I figured you would do well for the job."

Danny blinks "I'm sorry?"

The kid pulls out a wad of cash. Danny can practically hear the ca-ching sound surrounding the boy as he raises a brow.

He gapes as the youth slaps the cash into his hand without so much as a blink.

"Do we have an accord?" The boy asks while Danny slowly turns the money in his hand.

"Whatever you say, temporary in-law," He says after flipping through the bills only to realize it's a hundred-dollars. A quick count of how many he's been handed causes his eyes to almost pop out of thier socket.

It's more then enough for this month's rent-hell he has some left over for at least four months!

"Excellent, we are expected at dinner. If Drake acts surprised to see you merely tap the table six times, then four. He shall fall into line and build off our lie."

Danny scrambles after the kid, nodding to himself. "Six, then four. Got it. Ugh, does the dinner have a dress code?"

It sounds like it would since a young boy just gave out hundreds like it was nothing. Danny would feel bad showing up in an old pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt.

Maybe he has a formal shirt somewhere.

The boy's green eyes flickered to him, then his watch on his wrist. "An impressive observation. Pennyworth will not be impressed by a poorly dressed paramour. We have time to purchase a suit. Come along."

Danny has no idea how someone so small can walk so fast. He feels his breathing is coming in quick bursts, but the boy doesn't seem winded at all. He winces when the boy enters a well-known suit place that is very pricey. "Is this coming out of my pay?"

"No. This shall be covered by the company card," The strange child says, holding up a black card with a quick flick of his wrist. At the sight of it, two store attendants appear at their side, offering assistance. Danny has never seen such power.

"W-wait we have a company card?" He shutters, overwhelmed by the attendant pushing him into a changing room and a light blue suit in his arms.

"Yes. However, you have a limit on what can be spent with it. I shall review the details later regarding your medical, dental, and vision benefits."

"I GET DENTAL?!"

"Of course. America's ridiculous health programs will mistreat no employee of mine simply due to lack of funds. " The boy scoffed, sounding offended by the very idea.

Danny doesn't care how long he needs to pretend to be this boy's boyfriend, and he'll sign a contract right now.

_______________________________________

Damian waited for Fenton to finish trying on all the suits the personal sellers had pushed onto him. He personally thinks the light blue was the best but it doesn't hurt to try other options.

They need Fenton to look his best to woo Drake and get him to stop acting so pathetic.

Yes, Dowd had broken up with him for reasons Damian is unaware of, nor does he care enough to find them, but Drake has had plenty of people break up with him before and remain on good terms with him.

Just look at Brown.

Drake had also always bounced right back after the breakup, usually because he would get tied up in either work at Wayne Industries or Red Robin.

Yet, for some reason, unlike all the others, Dowd leaving has not only been messy it also threw Drake into a downwards spiral.

He has refused even to get dress- walking around in a bathrobe and fluffy slippers- eating ice cream and sobbing over photos of Dowd for hours on end. He taken a leave from Wayne Industries and mostly stayed on monitor duty as Red Robin.

At other times, he plays sad songs and watches romance movies with a dead look in his eyes. Usually there were crumbs of some unknown spicy chips all over his face too.

Really it was unseemly.

It's been four months of this, and Drake does not seem to be getting it together. Damian had researched online, and all of the articles indicate that he should have felt better by the third-month mark.

He would have left the fool well alone only Pennyworth is beginning to worry. And Damian refuses to let Pennyworth worry over something fixable.

His research showed that a "rebound" was highly recommended (if done correctly), in the healing process of a breakup. Drake refused to find one, so Damian assigned himself the task of finding one for him instead.

He considered Drake's past lovers' looks, interests, and personalities. Then creating a list of what was considered a good candidate he wandered around Gotham in search of someone who would be a perfect rebound.

His efforts led him to Tea MadHouse- a tea shop with a surprisingly good coffee menu- where Daniel Fenton worked. Over three weeks, Damian had watched him, categorizing the pros and cons that Drake would find within Fenton, and concluded that he would be perfect.

The fact Fenton has lost his job now only worked in his favor. He'll convince Drake that Fenton is a decoy for Pennyworth - since Drake was getting fed up with all the hovering- and he would never notice that the real target of this fake relationship would be Drake himself all along.

Fenton will woo him, sweep him off his feet, make him forget Dowd and ride off into the sunset with Drake none the wiser. It was full-proof.

Damian will make Drake rebound on Fenton, even if he has to throw the idiot at the other teen. He is getting awful tired of the concerned glances whenever Drake slumps his way into a room.

No other reason. He certainly didn't care about Drake that much nor did does he lay awake at night wondering how Drake is doing now that he does not have someone to hold him.

Drake doesn't sleep well alone.

"How do I look?" Fenton stepped out of the booth wearing the light blue suit. It made his eyes pop and framed his body well.

Yes, muscular. The body of a boxer. Drake will lose his mind over those biceps.

"Ravishing." He tells the nineteen-year-old. Damian barely bites back a smirk as Fenton flushed, painting a pretty picture. Drake enjoys talking his lovers up, and Fenton will do well to receive plenty of compliments. "Let us be off."

Drake won't know what hit him.

[corroded-hellfire]

no bc cockwarming with older!eddie is soooooooo

Oh I agree 100%. It’s something I need in my life but I guess I’ll have to settle for only having it in writing. Older!eddie my beloved 😍

Warnings: older!eddie, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m receiving, cockwarming, brat and brat tamer

Words: 3.3k

Eddie was never a sports fan. Never interested him, never played nor watched. His needing to be home to watch a game had never been an issue you’d had to deal with in your relationship. So, when the day comes that Eddie is more focused on something that’s on the television than you, you’re not having it. 

It’s a Saturday night and the two of you had finished off the pizza that you’d ordered, and you’d gone to take a shower. Halfway through your time spent in the steam, you start to feel a little lonely and wish your boyfriend would join you. Calling his name a few times doesn’t seem to work, even though the walls are thin in his trailer. With a pout, you step out of the shower and wrap a fuzzy towel around your body. Still dripping little droplets of water on the carpet, you pad down the hallway to see where your man is. Nothing Else Matters is coming from the television, and you find Eddie sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand. You’ve heard enough Metallica through him to know that’s what’s on the tv, but you’re not sure what he’s so transfixed on.

“Whatcha watching, baby?” you ask.

His eyes flit briefly over to you before returning to the screen. “Metallica documentary.”

“Oh.” You take a few steps closer to the couch and cock your head to the side. “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. You okay?” Eddie’s words are very monotone. You don’t doubt that there’s real concern for you there, but he couldn’t sound less enthusiastic if he tried.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted some company,” you say coyly. There’s no reaction from your boyfriend. Figuring you’ll make it plain as day for him, you drop your towel, leaving your naked body on full display. He turns his head towards you, his eyes staying on the television until the last moment, then flickering your way as well. Arching an eyebrow, Eddie pats his jean-clad thigh and looks back to the television. It’s not exactly the reaction you were looking for, but you’ll take it. 

You stroll over to him and perch yourself in his lap. His hands rest on your hips, but he tries to look around you at the television. Your gaze is trained on him, not quite a glare but only a skosh softer. Eddie either doesn’t notice the way you’re looking at him or he doesn’t care. So, you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently press your nails into his t-shirt covered skin, adding pressure bit by bit until he frowns and meets your eye.

“Ow, babe,” he says. “What was that for?”

“You haven’t looked at me once since I sat in your lap. Am I bothering you?” It’s hard to keep the snark out of your voice, even though you’re aware you sound like a petulant child.

“No,” Eddie says with a soft sigh. “I just want to watch this documentary. I haven’t seen it, and you know Metallica is my favorite.”

A groan tumbles from your lips as you drop your head forward and rest it on his shoulder. Cold water drips from your hair onto his neck, sending a shiver throughout his body.

“You want a blanket?” he asks. 

His words have you jolting upright and, this time, full-out glaring at him.

“You want me to cover up?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Eddie says, suppressing an eye roll – he knows it will only make it worse. “You just got out of the shower, aren’t you cold?”

“A little,” you say. “So warm me up.”

“Babe, this is over in an hour, can we just–”

“Fine.” You move to get off his lap, but his large hands keep you pinned in place. The overly cheerful voice of a woman trying to sell some new workout video comes from behind you and it makes you huff. “So now that there’s a commercial you’ll pay attention to me?”

“You’re being a real brat, you know that?”

Your eyebrows pull together as you frown at him. “I just want to get some lovin’ from my boyfriend.”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says with a sigh. “So desperate for my cock, huh? Be a good girl then, get on your knees.”

With how fast and hard your knees hit the threadbare carpet in the living room, Eddie suspects you’ll either have bruised knees or rug burn. But you don’t seem to mind one bit as you stare up at him with wide, eager eyes. Your hands immediately fly to Eddie’s belt, and you’ve undone that and his zipper in the short few seconds it took Eddie to lift his hips so you could slide his jeans and boxers down. 

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen it—or stroked it, licked it, sucked it, had it inside of you, etc—the sight of Eddie’s cock still gets you immediately wet. The promise of the pleasure that he’s going to bring you. 

Being eye level with Eddie’s semi-hard cock has you licking your lips in greedy anticipation. Not able to wait one moment more, you lean forward and wrap your hand around the base of Eddie’s cock. His pubic hair brushes against the side of your hand with every stroke.

You push yourself up on your knees so you can let some saliva drip down onto Eddie’s cock, making it easier for you to work your hand over it. A groan slips from your lips as you eye the bead of precum gathering on the tip.

As if based purely on primal instinct, you lean in and run your tongue flat over the head. Eddie’s thighs tense around your head as you savor the salty tang that coats your tongue. 

You’re tempted to tease Eddie but with him already accusing you of acting like a brat, he might not let you suck him off. It’s been the toughest torture you’ve ever had to bear when Eddie makes you watch him get off all on his own. 

Not willing to take that risk, you engulf the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. One of Eddie’s hands rests on the back of your hair, not pushing, just lying there. It puts enough weight on your head to make you sink a little further down on his cock.

“Good girl,” Eddie drawls out. 

The praise does nothing to help the wetness that feels as if it will drool down your legs any second. You bob your head, taking a little more of him in each time you go down. Tears annoyingly pool in your eyes and you blink a few times to get them to roll down your cheeks; nothing is going to distract you from giving Eddie the best head you can. Just as you’re about to take him into your throat, Eddie’s fingers dig into your hair, rings lightly scraping against your scalp, and he pulls you off of him.

A whine of protest reflexively flies out of your mouth at the loss. Your brain hardly has time to wonder why your boyfriend pulled you off of him before he tugs your head backwards so you’re looking up at him. His attention is not on you though, it’s back on the television that you hear once again playing music you recognize as Metallica’s. Eddie is looking straight ahead, not sparing you a glance as you pout up at him.

“Get up here,” he orders as he drops your hair. 

“What?” you ask. Using the back of your hands you wipe the tear streaks from your cheeks and the saliva that managed to leak out of your mouth. 

“Get. Up.”

You push yourself up on unsteady legs and Eddie groans in irritation as you block his view of the television. A strong hand grips your naked waist and pulls you forward until you’re tumbling into his lap. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Eddie’s voice is low and husky, the dominance in it sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re going to sit on my cock and keep quiet until this show is over. If you’re good, maybe you’ll get rewarded. If you’re a brat, you can get yourself off tonight. Understood?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you reply, hardly above a whisper. 

Making sure to lean your torso to the side to keep out of his way, you straddle Eddie’s hips and reach behind you to line his cock up with your entrance. Slowly, you start to sink down on him, the initial stretch leading you to let out a low moan.

“Shhh,” Eddie chastises, never taking his eyes from the flickering screen behind you. 

Teeth gnash into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood to keep yourself from making any other noises. Tense fingers dig into Eddie’s black t-shirt clad shoulders as you fully seat yourself on his lap. After you’ve given yourself a moment to adjust, you start to lift yourself up again, but Eddie immediately slams you back down.  

A sharp whine is forced out of you, and you grip the cotton material of Eddie’s shirt in your fists.

“Wha—” you start to ask but Eddie cuts you off.

“You’re going to sit here, completely still. You’re not going to move around or make a sound.”

You drop your head forward and rest your forehead on Eddie’s shoulder as you let out a small whimper. This is pure torture. Being so close to everything you want, but not allowed to rock your hips to make the dream a reality. 

Metallica music continues to play behind you and when you glance up at the older man, he has his entire focus on the show. You almost slip up and let out an irritated groan, but you know you’ll regret it if you do. 

A few minutes pass by but it feels like an eternity as you just sit there, half listening to the loud metal music coming from behind you as you slump against Eddie’s body. Just as a song comes to an end and yet another journalist begins to talk on camera, Eddie’s hips shift, causing him to move inside of you. The unexpected jolt has you gasping and burying your face into Eddie’s neck.

“Relax, I’m just making myself comfortable,” he says. 

You highly doubt that but keep your thoughts to yourself as you try to calm your body down again. Eddie’s a little shit and you’d put money on this being only the first time he messes with you, looking to see how far he can push before you push back. Sure enough, just as you’ve let your guard down and let your mind wander, there’s a sharp smack to your ass. The sting makes you jump, and Eddie’s hands instinctively move to your waist to steady you.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “My hand slipped.”

He’s full of shit and you both know it. Eddie’s playing dirty now and you have to think of a counterattack. Anything too obvious and he’ll make both of you get yourselves off tonight, so it has to be subtle. 

Moving slowly so as to not interrupt his television time, you curl against his chest so he can feel it when you expand your lungs and let out a silent yawn against his neck. As you yawned though, there may have been clenching of your walls around his dick. You feel more than hear the growl that reverberates through his chest. Now when you bite your lip it’s to keep the smile off your face. 

You peer over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall and see that this documentary should be over in about fifteen minutes. So close yet so far. The chill from your still wet skin is starting to settle in as well, which is going to make this quarter of an hour tick by even slower. 

Thankfully, the end of the show has some of the Metallica songs you’re more familiar with, so it gives you something to listen to while you wait for this test of wills to be over. With five minutes left you feel yourself getting antsy. Eddie just said until the documentary was over, right? Does that mean the second it’s done he’s going to start fucking you like you’ve been craving for what feels like hours now? Or will he be a prick some more and pretend like he doesn’t know what you’ve been waiting for this whole time. You’d place your bets on the second option. Eddie never turned down an opportunity to be a pain in the ass. 

The last song fades out and the show is over. You immediately sit up and look at Eddie with wide eyes. You did it. You had done what he asked of you and now you get your reward, right? Right? 

As nonchalantly as you’ve ever seen him, he raises his arms up over his head to stretch out his back and abdominal muscles. Usually, you’d take the opportunity to stare at his tummy when his shirt rode up, but with his cock literally inside of you it feels like a moot point. 

“Eddie,” you say. It’s not quite a whine, more like a poke—a nudge.

“Yes?”

He was going to drive you insane one of these days.

“It’s over, right?”

“It is.”

“So…?” you trail off.

“So, it was pretty good. Wish they had more metal documentaries like that.”

You’re two seconds away from putting your hands around Eddie’s throat—and not in the way he sometimes likes. 

“And I was good too, right?” You’re practically batting your eyelashes at him, and it takes Eddie a moment to compose himself enough not to laugh. 

“I guess you were.”

“So…” you drawl as you lean in to press soft kisses against the side of his neck. “Do I get my reward then?”

“What is it that you wanted, baby? Was it this?” Eddie rolls his hips up against yours and your eyes flutter closed at the feeling.

“Y-Yes,” you manage. “Need you, Eddie.”

“God, I love when you get all needy for my cock. Should I make you beg for it?”

He knows you will if he demands it. Eddie enjoys moments like this when he’s in full control, knowing you’ll do whatever he wants. That his cock drives you so wild that you become putty in his hands. It makes a nice change since in every other aspect of your relationship you have him wrapped around your little finger. 

“Please, please, Eddie,” you whine, fingers grasping at the front of his t-shirt. 

Eddie takes in your pouted lips and your widened eyes. He can’t help but smile at how utterly adorable you are; but somehow still the sexiest woman he’s ever met. 

“Alright, baby,” Eddie finally acquiesces. He reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand. Slowly and delicately, Eddie swipes his thumb right below your bottom eyelid. “Take what you want.”

The permission unlocks an energy reservoir you weren’t aware you had as you place your hands on Eddie’s shoulders for balance and push yourself up, almost letting his cock slip out. But at the last moment you lower yourself back down, the two of you moaning in tandem as he bottoms out again. You set a relentless pace as you begin to bounce on his cock. Eddie’s eyes hungrily watch your tits as they bounce along with you, providing your boyfriend with double the pleasure. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch. Teasing you was definitely worth it with the way you’re taking his cock for all its worth. 

Your hands move up Eddie’s shoulder and slide around to tangle your fingers at the dark curls at the base of his skull. 

“This what you wanted, huh?” Eddie asks and pauses to catch his labored breath. He can feel how wet you are and that tells him this is exactly what your goal was. “Needed to have me deep inside of you.”

“So deep,” you mutter with a nod.

“Mm, what would you do without me, baby?” Eddie taunts, lifting his hands to massage your breasts. 

“God, I would die.”

Eddie chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Nobody could make you feel as good as I do. I know.”

“Uh huh,” you pant. 

Eddie notices your movements becoming slower, the strength draining from your body. Persistent woman that you are, you keep going, moving up and down to take what you want. One of Eddie’s arms snakes around the small of your back and the other comes up to cup your cheek.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” he says softly. Eddie turns to lay you down on the weathered couch and slides an old throw pillow beneath your hips. A loud whine of protest comes from deep in your chest when Eddie slips out of you as your positions change. “Love how desperate you get for me. Only me who gets to see you wrecked like this. So fuckin’ hot.”

As Eddie pushes himself back into your soaked, throbbing pussy your whines turn much more pleasurable. Your boyfriend holds onto the arm of the couch behind your head and uses the leverage to piston his hips. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you cry.

“Too much?” Eddie teases, slowing his hips. “Should I stop?”

“Fuck, no.”

A cocky smirk grows on the older man’s face, a breathy chuckle coming from him at your vociferous reply. His hips pick up speed again, just as eager to please you as you are to be pleased. The arm that isn’t holding him steady against the couch runs over your tits, up your neck, and his fingers meet your lips. 

“Open.”

You let your jaw drop, letting Eddie slip his middle and forefinger into your mouth. Just as you did to his cock before, you swirl your tongue around the digits, the feeling of something in your mouth only making you feel that much fuller. Reluctantly, you let Eddie move his hand when he starts to pull away, but not before letting your bottom teeth gently graze against the pads of his fingers. 

Eddie’s hand dips down between your bodies and rubs tight circles over your clit. The added stimulation has your muscles tightening, that familiar buildup soaring in you. Your right hand clutches Eddie’s arm, the grip hard enough to leave bruises that will linger for the next few days. 

“Eddie, fuck.”

“That’s right. Cum for me, princess.”

“W-Wanna cum with you.”

He dips down and trails hot kisses from your chin, all the way down your throat. 

“You’ve been naked for the past hour,” he mumbles against your sweat covered skin. “Never mind how long I’ve been inside of you. You really think I’m gonna be able to last much longer? Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

The urging is all you need before letting your orgasm wash over you, back arching off the couch, and pressing your tits against Eddie’s shirt. The clenching and fluttering of your walls around him has Eddie following right after you, spilling into you and filling you up. Wanting to make sure you take every single drop, Eddie fucks his cum into you even after his orgasm begins to wane. 

The weight of Eddie’s body pressing on top of yours is exactly what you need in the moments as your bliss fades away. Contentment fills the both of you as you breathe together, both sweaty and satiated. Eddie uses the last of the energy he has left to lift his head and press a few kisses to your shoulder. 

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching up to move some of the hair that’s sticking to his face. “I’d apologize for being a brat, but it turned out to work pretty damn well.”

“You are a brat but I’m good at handling it,” Eddie says with a soft smile. “And I love you too.”

“I feel like I need another shower,” you say, your sticky skin feeling attached to Eddie’s.

He looks up at you with those doe eyes and a cocky smile.

“Want some company?”

[maxillness]

╰┈➤This Fkn Bratty Attitude || MV33 x Team Principal!Reader

Warnings: 18+, oral (m), handjob, sub!max, age gap (not specified), mommy kink, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m), snowballing,

Wordcount: 1.8k

Request: my request would be for Sub Max verstappen, in which y/n is the team leader at redbull and they have had a secret relationship for a while, and in a race Max's car breaks down and he shouts at his employees, including his boss his (y/n). She doesn't like his bratty attitude and teaches him a lesson. (If it's not a bother, could it include mommy kink?)

What they were doing wasn’t my exactly wrong, but if it came out that the 3 times world champion was screwing his team principal, there probably wouldn’t be much of his ego left

Not only because it would seem like she favoured Max over Checo, but also for their age gap

“Get cleaned up and get changed” She said, feeling his limp body against hers as he was coming down from the orgasm he had gotten from riding her thigh

“P-please, need one more. Please, mommy. Please” He pleaded, trying to roll his hips, but her tight grip on him prevented him to do so

“We don’t have time for that, baby. You need to be on the track in a few minutes. Wouldn’t want you to miss it, no?” She said, kissing the top of his head softly

“Mommy… Please” She loved his begging. He knew she couldn’t stand it, but they really didn’t have the time for it

“Get cleaned up, and get your suit on. Got it?” She said sternly, pushing him off of her and down to the couch a little more roughly than she had actually intended

She heard his low whimper before she closed the door and walked to the pit wall. She looked down to her thigh as she sat down. Thank god, she thought as there was no stain on her jeans from Max’ cum

She cursed under her breath as Max crashed early on the race. 12 laps, that was it. That’s what he managed before his breaks broke and was sent into the wall

“Max, are you okay?” She asked him through the radio. She heard no reply “Max?” She tried again

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. The car’s not though” His voice was annoyed, tinted with something you could describe as anger

“Fuck the car, Max. As long as you’re okay” She sighed, leaning back into her chair afterwards

With GP no longer needed at the pit wall, he went into the garage to console Max as he came back

She turned her head backwards as she heard yelling coming from behind her. Max was yelling at the engineers, mechanics and even GP

She took off her headphones and walked to the garage, wanting to see what the fuck is going on

“This is all your fault! This wouldn’t have happened if you just did your work right for once!” That was the first thing she heard as she stepped a foot into the garage

Max had now turned to her “This is your fault as well. You’re the one who hired this shit crew” He took a few steps closer to her, looking at her with determination and anger in his eyes

“This is not any of our faults” She said calmly, crossing her arms over her chest “It was a mechanical issue that none of us could prevent” She shifted on her feet

“How dare you stand there and pretend we haven’t just lost the race entirely?!” He almost yelled again

“Checo is still out there. We haven’t lost yet. Now, if you don’t want to support your teammate, go into your drivers room, shut the fuck up, and cool down” He didn’t hesitate before he turned around and walked into his drivers room

She shook her head slightly as she walked back to the pit wall “Y/N, is Max okay?” She heard Checo ask the second she had gotten the headphones back on

“Yeah. Angry as fuck, but… He’s alright” She said to him, watching as he had now taken P1 with Carlos and Lando behind him

After the race was done, Checo a beautiful p1, she had walked to Max’ drivers room, knocking harshly on the door

Max opened up. Hair damp from his shower, sweats and a t-shirt

“What do you want?” He asked, taking a step back as he sighed

He turned her back towards her, taking a step towards the couch. She walked in, closing the door behind her before gripping the base of his neck, and slamming the front of his body against the door, making him hiss at the pain

“The fuck is your problem?” She asked harsh as her body was pressed up against his back

“The car is shit, and it’s your fault” He said, trying to push off the the door with his hands that was rested on either side of his chest, but his body was pushed further into the door by her own

He secretly loved the way she was holding him up against the door like that, but wouldn’t dare speak up about it, in case she would use it against him

“My fault?” She scoffed, putting her mouth as close to his ear as she could without making contact “Do I need to fuck this attitude out of you?” She whispered in a way she knew he got turned on by

He only answered with a whimper as he shut his eyes closed, biting his bottom lip softly, trying not to rut his hips backwards into hers

“Oh, you’d like that, huh? You’d like for me to fuck this bratty attitude out of you?” Her other hand that wasn’t my at his neck, went for the lock on the door, locking it before placing it on the dip of his hip

When he didn’t answer, she turned his body around roughly, slamming his back against the door, holding her hand around his throat softly

Both his hands went around her wrist, digging his nails into the flesh as he looked intensely into her eyes, seeing them blown wide, hiding the colour of them

“Answer me” She said sternly, pressing a little firmer against his throat, earning a choked breath from him

“Mhm. Fuck, yes, mommy. Please” He whined, bucking his hip to meet hers

“You have to be quiet though, there’s still people here, okay?” She asked, knowing damn well she’s had to make him quiet

“I was earlier, wasn’t I?” He smiled cheekily like he had won some prize

“Don’t get cocky” She said before removing her hand, earning her a whine from the man “Oh, you like that? Having my hand around your throat?” She chuckled, putting her hand around him again, pushing him back against the door

He whimpered at the way her hand closed slightly around him. Her other hand ran down his chest, landing on the waistband of his sweats

He closed his eyes, whimpering at the feeling of her hand down his body “Help me out, Max. My hand is occupied” She said, referring to his sweats

His hands from her wrist went to the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down along side his boxers so they rested at his knees

His hands went back to her wrist as she spit in her own, taking it around his cock, slowly starting to move

She could see that he tried so hard to hold his sounds in, but was unsuccessful when her thumb went over the slit, making him moan

“Thought I told you to be quiet” She said, leaning in close so her lips was ghosting his

“F-feels s’good” He whispered, his lips brushing against hers, earning her a whimper “P-please, kiss me. Please, mommy?”

“When you ask so nicely” She sped up her hand as she kissed him, making him moan which was muffled by her lips

She took the opportunity to shove her tongue into his mouth, exploring his mouth like she always did

He started bucking his hips up into her hand, not helping the moans that was muffled by the woman

“F-fuck. Mommy, please- can I come? P-please, ‘m s’close” He panted, keeping his sounds at bay

“If you come now instead of inside me, I’ll pull more out of you” She said, but it only encouraged him more

She scoffed as he bit his bottom lip hard, almost silently coming, his cum dripping from his cock down his shaft and onto her hand, some also on her arm and his shirt

She caught his body in her arms as he became limp. She held onto him, soothing his back with her hand, slowly guiding him over to the couch, going to her knees in front of him as she had gotten him down on the couch

“N-no, I can’t” He panted as he felt her pull his sweats and boxers all off his legs

“I warned you, baby” She said, spreading his legs, kissing up the insides of his thighs, feeling his muscles twitch at her touch and his breathing getting yet again quick as he started to get hard again

She looked up at him as she licked a thick stripe up his shaft. She slid her hands under his shirt and up to his waist, hiking the shirt up with her

He whimpered as her tongue went over his head. He gripped the material tight under him, looking down at her as she had started bopping her head

He moaned as her tongue pressed against a vein. She took one of her hands from his waist, and pushed two of her fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue, making him gag, but stay quiet

He whimpered around her fingers, bucking his hips for her to go faster, but in the progress hitting her throat, making her pull slightly back, only leaving the tip on her tongue

She was just letting it rest there, doing nothing but look up at him through hooded eyes as he stilled his hips

“‘M sorry, mommy. Please. Need it” His words were muffled as she pressed further down on his tongue, making his head spiral

She hummed around him, sending him into euphoria as he came into her mouth. His body shook rapidly as she slowly rode his orgasm out

She got off of him when she could feel the overstimulation was getting too much

She stood up, knees hurting as hell. She towered over him, putting her hand on his jaw, making him open his eyes and look up at her

She pressed her lips firmly to his, pressing at his jaw for him to open. She opened her mouth as well, spilling his cum into his mouth, making him whimper

She pulled back, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed with a whine “Good boy. Get cleaned up and get back to the hotel” She said before leaving him half naked in his room

[incendiobrock]

Caring For You {Matt Sturniolo}

Summary: fem!reader takes care of bf!Matt when his ankle is still hurting after going to the doctor 🥺

Warnings: FLUFFFFF

A/N: this was supposed to be a quick blurb before work but it turned out longer than i expected hehe

The garage door in the triplets house finally opened, signaling that the boys had made it back home from their trip to urgent care. Matt had been having some ankle pain that you had been begging him to get checked out. Even Nick and Chris were getting worried when the pains still persisted after a couple of months.

The boys laughter filled the once silent house and you were quick to get off the couch and make your way to the staircase. Nick was the first one up, greeting you and heading to the kitchen. Chris followed him closely behind and Matt stayed at the bottom of the stairs for a few extra moments.

"Well? What did they say was wrong with it?" You asked nervously, hoping it wasn't too serious since you didn't see any sort of cast. Matt slowly ascended the stairs towards you, limping lightly because of the pain. When he reached the top he pulled you into a comforting hug, rubbing his hand up and down your back. He knew that you had been really worried about him and just wanted to make sure he was okay.

"She said it was probably tendinitis and that I should just take some advil." Matt said softly, placing a kiss on your forehead and pulling back from the hug. You looked up at him with big doe eyes, concern still written on your face, "What? That's all? They didn't do an x-ray or anything?" Matt shrugged his shoulders, shifting his weight off his hurt ankle and repositioning his hands inside his jean pockets.

"They didn't think it was necessary."

"How about you go sit on the couch so you're not putting weight on it, give it a break while you're home." You suggested, placing a caring hand on Matt's tattooed bicep. He quickly obliged, making his way over to the plush, white sofa, sinking into the pillows. You grabbed a pillow from the opposite end of the couch and brought it over to Matt.

"Baby, what are you doing sweetheart?" He asks as you carefully lift his leg to rest on the L of the couch, placing the pillow beneath his hurt ankle.

"You should probably elevate it at least." You responded before quickly heading towards the kitchen, giving Matt no time to stop you. Matt watched you from over the back of the couch, his tongue wetting his bottom lip unsure of your actions. You rummaged through all the kitchen drawers, desperately trying to find what you needed. Eventually, you scavenged a ziploc bag, a hand towel, and a bottle of advil.

You filled the ziploc bag with ice from the freezer, wrapping it in the hand towel to keep the direct cold from touching your bare skin. Holding all the ingredients, you made your way back over to the couch.

"Here babe, let me take care of you." You pled, carefully placing the ice onto his elevated ankle and handing him the bottle of advil, urging him to take a couple.

He smiled sweetly at you, grateful that he could count on you to take care of him even when he didn't think his health issues were that big of a deal.

"Do you need anything else?" You asked, standing at the edge of the couch, ready to do anything else for the man you loved.

Matt patted the spot next to him, urging you to take a seat. As you got closer to Matt, he held out his hand taking hold of your own and pulling you onto the sofa. When you fully sat down next to him his arm came over your shoulders, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest. He looked down at you as you snuggled into his side, using his free hand to gently push your chin up to look at him.

Matt leaned down, connecting his lips with yours in a meaningful kiss, "I love you, thanks for taking care of me."

[chxrrysangel]

Thinking really hard about Mr. Logan Howlett this week. Haven’t even watched Deadpool & Wolverine yet but the Hugh Jackman renaissance is making me FERAL.

ANYWAYS

Logan has always been a hands on kind of guy. Always the “better to do it yourself than trust someone else” you know? So when your dear next neighbor has some car issues, he refuses to call up the local mechanic.

It’s summer, 90+ degrees outside and humid like a motherfucker. On what’s typically a quiet morning during days like this, too hot for even the local kids to venture outside, you hear some clinking and what sounds oddly enough like a drill. Peeking through the curtains, your eyes scan the mostly empty street to see Logan bent over the hood of his car.

And he’s shirtless.

Even from this distance, you can see his flushed skin glisten with sweat as he works. You fall into a daze, how could you not? It would take being blind to not notice how hot your neighbor was, and your brain never failed to forget it. His jeans hung somewhat low on his hips, hugging his strong thighs in a way that made anyone salivate with need. His back muscles were a sight to behold, straining and shifting as he worked.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, turning around to lean against the bumper. You panicked, ducking your head out of his sight. You angled yourself in a way that would hopefully obscure your compromising position, decreasing your chances of a potential complaint. From this new position, you found it even harder to move away from the window. He was perfect chiseled and toned, almost as if he was crafted by the gods themselves.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered.

The longer you stared was the more flushed you felt, unable to pull away as he moved to work under the car. The two of you hadn’t spoken more than a minute at a time, but his charming demeanor quickly enticed you. Just then, you got an idea.

Scrambling to the kitchen and almost slipping on the hardwood, you gathered your ingredients. By the looks of it, he’d be outside for quite a while. What kind of neighbor would you be if you didn’t offer him a drink?

A little bit later, you stood in front of the mirror trying to work up some courage. Giving yourself a little pep talk and a little minute shot of liquid courage, you ventured outside with a tray and the brightest smile you could muster. Upon hearing your footsteps and the soft clinks of ice, he turned around before you had the chance to call out.

And he smiled, canines on full display and cheekbones puffy with glee.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Your cheeks heat up at his compliment, feeling bashful.

“Stop, you’re too kind.”

“Never that,” he retorted with a wink. He points to the strawberry printed tray in your arms.

“Some of that for me?”

“As a matter of fact, it is. Thought you could use a drink.” He gushed, taking the tall glass cup gratefully. You set down the pitcher and tray on his tool kit, planning to come back for it later.

“Well uh…call me if you need anything else yeah?”

He didn’t respond at first, choosing that moment to make your escape before you ran your mouth.

“Wait.” You paused mid-step, turning back to face him.

“I could use some company…if you don’t mind that is.”

“No, no. I’d like that,” you responded, stumbling over your words.

“Yeah?,” he said with a boyish surprise in his tone. You assured him with a nod and smile.

“Lemme get you a seat then. Be right back.” You watched as he wiped the grease off his hands, jogging past you to get a chair from inside. Even covered in sweat and grime, he was hottest man you’ve ever seen.

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

chapter 1

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!Reader

summary: Your and Tara’s “friendship” keeps going and unexpected pairing in school project gets you more closer than you both need.

tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, alcohol, party, curse words, mistakes

word count: 2.5k

You don’t like a lot of things, like early mornings, school, tomato soup, and slow people on stairs. But the thing you hate the most is the alarm clock. You are sure that you already have PTSD from it because everytime you hear it, your body wants to shut down. Like right now.

You whined as your ears were met with the most annoying sound on earth. After turning it off you turned your face deep into the pillow. For a couple of minutes, it stopped but you knew it would soon come back.

With a groan, your legs fell onto the cold floor. You don´t have many lessons today, just one but you still couldn´t convince your body to wake up.

Slowly doing your morning routine, grabbing things you need for your lesson and you left. As you were locking your apartment´s door you saw Tara by the elevator. Quickly putting your keys into the pocket of your jeans you started to make your way to her direction.

Every morning you and her were practically overruning to the elevator, making the other one behind to wait.

Your flats are high and the elevator is unfortunately just one. The only way to go down would be to go down the endless stairs or to swallow your dislike towards the Carpenter and go with her. And that´s exactly what you were going to do.

Sadly Tara saw you, and as you were halfway toward her the elevator door suddenly opened. This was her chance, her chance to pay back you from yesterday.

The next thing you saw was Tara quickly going to the elevator and sending you her most annoying grin you have ever seen through the elevator doors that were slowly closing right between your face.

You ran as fast as you could but your body was met with the tough metal doors. And the next thing you could hear was Tara´s echoing laugh.

„That little-“You let out a groan as you punched the closed elevator door.

Forget about the things that were said in the beginning, the thing you most hated was Tara Carpenter.

-

„Hey Y/N! Why so late?“

Chad asked you with a curious face. Everyone was now sitting by the cafeteria in your university. Every morning you would meet there and start your day together, then split up for lessons if you didn´t have them together.

Your eyes shot to the Carpenter who was sitting by the end of the table, far from you. She was smirking to herself, trying to hide her laugh. You knew and she knew too.

„Nothing serious Chad, just some morning issues.“ You let out as you sat opposite Chad. His twin sister looked trying to figure out the cause of it but as soon as your eyes met Tara´s she understood.

It bothers Mindy, she wants all of her close ones to get along. How come you can´t just bury the war axe and at least accept the presence of one another? If not for you then for your friends.

Mindy can´t imagine the situation of having to choose between the two of you. She doesn´t even want to think about it, the thought of splitting your group into two camps.

You have all been friends since the first years of school. You would share all your classes and after school, you came to each other's houses and played till your parents called. As you got older your hobbies and behavior changed but your friendship stayed the same. Only there was a little problem, you two.

The thing is, despite you both hate each other you are almost the same. Tara has a short temper and you have anger issues. Just a small tinke from you or her and the volcanic eruption is born.

So Mindy took the role of the mother of her two stubborn kids.

-

Days went by and everything was the same. You were feeling like a mummy this past week because of the schoolwork. You were working your ass off because of the finals and wanting to do as great as you could you needed to pay with your sleep.

Right now you are in civics class. You don´t hate it but you don´t like it either. It is somewhere in the middle. You took this class partly because your friends were there but also because it wasn´t so hard. Yeah you are an idiot. But hand on your heart, who has never done that?

Unfortunately one of the things the students needed to do to pass the class besides the final exam was a group project.

You didn´t like this kind of stuff, especially with someone you barely know but thank God this won’t be your case.

Sitting in a chair one hand was supporting your head and the other was playing with a pen in your hand, spinning it around. You were sitting alone in the back of the class. Mindy diagonally to your left with Chad beside her. Tara was diagonally on your right sitting also alone.

„And for the upcoming project, you will be making groups of two people. Each group will have a different topic and it will be up to you how you will elaborate on it and how you will split your work. The next thing-“

You moved your eyes to Mindy but her back was towards you. The girl was talking to her brother who was nodding at something she was saying. She wouldn´t do this to you, right? Mindy was your partner, your friend, and your only hope for this class.

The class bell rang and with that, you stood up and made your way to her. „Will you pair with me on this project?“ you asked, almost sure that she would say yes.

„Sorry Y/N I´m already with Chad.“ You kept looking at her with open eyes. Did your best friend just betray you? „But you can be with Tara.“

The both of you turned to the spot that was occupied by the brunette and your gazes met.

No no no no no.

-

Looking up at your roof with a softball in your hand, not paying attention to what going on but also praying it will end as soon as possible. You were currently lying on your back in your bed while throwing the ball against the ceiling.

Your teacher gave you not much time on your project despite how large it needs to be. Unfortunately, there was no other way other than to do it fast. For the sake of both.

„Human rights are fundamental rights and freedoms that all individuals are entitled to regardless of their nationality, ethnicity, religion, gender, or other factors. They are inherent to all human beings and-“ Tara stopped. „I won´t do this all just by myself.“ She said without turning her head toward you.

Since she came to your apartment you were just quiet, keeping yourself on a leash. Tara was sitting on the ground of your room with the books and notebook around her. You refused to let her use your game computer or your chair, not trusting her with it which she called you crazy.

„You know if you keep doing this it will take much longer.“

You sighed and sat up. You were pretty calm today, Tara was almost enjoying it, only almost. You took one of her books and started to look for something useful to put into your project.

Tara shook her head at your behavior and continued. „An individual rights end where the other individual rights begin-“

„Something you infringed a long time ago.“ You muttered under your breath, reacting to her words. The short girl took a deep breath in and out.

Dick.

„It can be affected in a way of violence or abuse, meaning of physical, emotional, psychological abuse-“

„Damn, they should lock you up.“ Again you let out softly barely noticeable.

„Can you shut up?!“

„You wanted me to help!“

„But not with being an absolute ass!“

You stood up from your bed and pointed your finger at her. „Listen here, little lady.“

„Oh yeah? Come on tell me.“ She stood up from the ground and made her way toward you. Your angry faces were just centimeters from one another and your hands were formed into fists. Her big brown eyes were staring right into yours with rage. How badly you just wanted to-

You were cut off by the doorbell of your apartment. Both of your faces turned from the way the sound came to each other again with a confused look. Tara pushed you by your shoulders.

„Go! It´s your house!“ she whispered yelling at you.

As you opened the door you were met with the faces of your friends. They wanted to laugh at how weird and at the same time cute it looked, how Tara was right behind you, trying to see who the new intruder was.

„What are you guys doing here?“ you asked inquisitive. Not like you didn´t want them here but it was unexpected.

„Ha! Look at them! They don´t even want us here!“ Chad laughed. „Were you two in the middle of something?“ he asked as he kept raising his eyebrows up and down.

You and Tara looked horrified at the thought of something similar. „What?!“ „No!“

„I didn´t even say what I meant!“

Mindy shook her head and punched her brother in the back of his head before coming into your apartment with the rest of the group. She had a feeling that your meeting about the school project wouldn´t end up like she wanted it to. That’s why she called Chad and Anika to your flat to hang out.

-

A couple of days now passed by and your focus on study was growing every day. It was not like you were good at it, you didn´t like studying but also you enjoyed learning about new topics that were interesting to you.

Your father called you, asking how you were. You plan to see him in some close time. You missed him. Since started university, he was left almost alone in your hometown. It was not like he was complaining about it, or at least he didn´t say anything about it, but you knew him.

The thought of visiting him unexpectedly made you excited and at least that was something that made you look for something. Not thinking about school only.

Your friendship with Tara was also changing, without your notice. You didn´t argue like you used to. Yeah, still there are times when you two jump into each other's hair, like every day, but not so often.

It´s like an unspoken task that has to be fulfilled. The day wouldn´t be complete if you didn´t fight at least once a day.

The only people that noticed the little changes were your friends. It was really fun for them. When Mindy told everyone about you they couldn´t believe it. So they started to observe and yeah, she was right.

There was still some bickering between you two but it just has to be there. That wouldn´t be you.

Right now you were standing at someone´s party. Your back towards the wall, cup in your hand just looking around the people in the room. You weren’t that much drunk, almost sober. Your friends were somewhere scattered around.

You came together but as the alcohol was coming down the throat more and more they went everyone on their own. You didn´t feel like babysitting your friends today.

The house also wasn´t that big, there were people from your university and they were adults so it wasn´t like something would happen to them.

You were talking with one of your friends from the class, Ethan. He was a good guy, he grew close to your heart.

Then you catch Chad lying on the couch with his drink in hand and something across his face. You squinted your eyes at him and started to come a little closer and as soon as you were beside him you broke into a fit of laughter.

„Oh my God Chad.“ You laughed at your friend who had barely opened their eyes. He saw you and smiled wide at you.

„Y/N! I´m so glad I see you.“

He had some signs drawn with markers across his face. He had big circles around his eyes like glasses and mustache. On his forehead was written, “Even a little wizard can do big magic“.

„How do you feel buddy?“ you tapped his shoulder as you were looking at him with a smile across your face. He was hilarious.

„I feel super great Y/N, will you drink with me?“ he asked as he sat up on a couch and was now trying to get some bottle of alcohol from the table.

„Nah I don´t think-“ You wanted to decline his offer but he cut you off.

„Please, just one.“ He gave you big puppy eyes and you sighed. Chad was one of the guys that when they were drunk they weren´t aggressive but affectionate. How could you say no to him?

After your shot with Chad, you saw Mindy coming to her brother to take him home. She didn´t forget to laugh at his face as she saw him.

In a moment you also saw Tara chatting with some guy. She was smiling up at him as he was flirting with her. You suddenly felt goosebumps running down your spine, you shook your body at the disgusting sigh.

You didn´t care about who was Tara with, it was her life and her body. She could do whatever she wanted. It just made you disgusted in some way. Maybe because she was in your friend group? You didn´t know.

You threw your cup into the trash can and left the party.

-

Tara was walking to her home. When she didn´t see anywhere her friends and was starting to get bored she also started to make her way home. The girl saw what state Chad was and she knew he wouldn´t be able to go home by himself. So that was minus Chad and Mindy with Anika. You were also there but she barely saw you so she figured you went also home.

As she was getting close to her apartment she was trying to find the key.

No. Please no.

She doesn´t have them. The brunette must forget them inside. When Tara was leaving her house Sam was still home getting ready for work, she closed the door behind her.

Tara breathed out the air from the lungs and slid down the door. Sam will surely kill her when she finds out. But what now? She can´t just sleep in a hallway. Maybe she could try to go in by the window-

Of course not, she isn´t in a movie and their apartment is high. That would be dangerous.

Her eyes fell on the apartment´s door beside her. She hated the idea, it would crush her ego and everything inside of her. Tara was already really embarrassed by the situation she put herself into. It couldn´t be worse, right?

With heavy steps and heart, she was making her way toward your door. She knocked a couple of times, it was late so it was a big possibility you were sleeping already.

Just when she wanted to go back to her door you opened it. Your hair was a bit messy and you were wearing a big white shirt with some pants. Big sleepy eyes of yours were staring at her, processing what was happening.

Tara´s words were stuck in her throat. Like she was caught doing something that was forbidden.

„Hey- I forgot my keys and- I just wanted to ask-“

The girl sighed, she didn´t know what to say. She already regretted her decision to knock on your door. This was so embarrassing.

„If you could sleep over.“ You ended her sentence with crossed arms across your chest.

Despite how you and Tara act towards each other you would never let her sleep somewhere. Maybe also because you appreciate Sam and you know how Sam loves and adores her little sister.

„Come in.“ You opened your door wider for her to come. Tara couldn´t believe you. Really? Just like that without any comebacks and mocking words? Maybe you were too sleepy for that.

You made your way to your room brought a pillow and blanked with some of your clothes that are already small on you. You threw it on a couch and gave the clothes to Tara. „Here, you can change into this.“ Was this even you?

„And you will sleep on a couch. Don’t bother me.“

Yes, it was you.

[dandelions-143]

Secrets

Hyunjin Masterlist

For Other Members Masterlist

Pairing: non Idol, Rich, Bad Boy Hyunjin x Mid/Plus size, College student, Fem! Reader.

Word Count: 2670k

Warnings: Sexual content and descriptions, Body image issues, Infidelity, Alcohol consumption, Drug use (mention of marijuana), Emotional manipulation,Trust issues in relationships

Summary: Established relationship between Y/n and Hyunjin but it’s technically a secret. What happens when Hyunjin is pretty much caught kissing someone else?

A/N: THIS ONES A LITTLE DEEP…The bad boy series I’ve been slowly writing does cross over here and there. This party that Hyunjin attends is the same one from Do It For Me but, y/n from that story is a completely different y/n than this one. Each member will get there own little story with crossovers. Currently working on a playlist for this series so stay tuned! Also if you have already read this just ignore!! Adding all saved tags to all of my works. If you wish to no longer be tagged just let me know.

You had just gotten home from your last class of the week. You dropped your heavy bag full of art history books by the door of your dark apartment. As the door closed, you kicked off your shoes and began to unzip your jacket. You were so tired from a full day of classes at university that you didn't care about leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you made your way to the bathroom.

You were in desperate need of a hot bath to relax and unwind. By the time you flipped on the bathroom lights, you were standing in nothing but your cute little Hello Kitty panties—a gift from your grandmother who still seemed to think you were 12.

"Cute." A velvety voice sliced through the silence of your apartment, making you jump nearly out of your skin.

You instantly covered your breasts as you turned around to see who had broken into your apartment. When your wide, terrified eyes met his dark and brooding stare, you let out a loud sigh of relief. "Hyunjin! You scared me to death!" A soft giggle escaped your now smiling lips, but you still kept your hands over your exposed breasts.

Hyunjin walked over to you, allowing you to really take him in. He wore dark jeans with rips in them, a black and blue shirt with a matching beanie. His long fingers were adorned with his signature silver rings. "I like these," he said as he playfully slipped a finger into the waistband of your panties and tugged at them gently. "Although they would look so much better on the floor."

You blushed and stepped back a little, trying to shield your half-naked body from his intense gaze. You couldn't help but be shy around him, even though you two had been together for months now and were well past the point of seeing one another naked for the first time. Hyunjin was perfect to you—tall and lean, with beautiful lips and long hair. And you... well... you were soft and thicker in the middle than you would like to be.

You had dimples on the back of your thighs and faint stretch marks here and there. In your mind, you were not the type of girl a guy like Hyunjin would ever want. So when he wanted to be intimate, you got bashful and asked to have the lights low or off completely.

Hyunjin stood there for a minute, and you could see the wheels in his head turning. "What?" you asked softly. Hyunjin stepped closer to you and wrapped his long arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "Honey, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the chance to know." Hyunjin ran his hands soothingly up and down your back for a while.

He kissed the top of your head, and then his hands began to wander. He spread his large hands over the plump swell of your ass and gripped you hard. "I love this ass." He moved his hands around to your curvy hips and pulled you into him. Your hips met his, and your bodies seemed to fit so well together. "I love these hips."

Hyunjin lazily dragged his hands up your soft stomach to pull your hands away from your breasts. You reluctantly let your arms fall to your sides, and his hands cupped them, squeezing and playing gently with your nipples. "I fucking love your tits," he groaned and leaned down to leave soft, open-mouthed kisses around your nipple before taking it between his pretty lips, sucking gently.

Your hands tugged off his beanie and slipped seamlessly through his long hair as a soft sigh escaped your mouth. His eyes stayed on your face the entire time. Once he gave a little love to your other breast, he slowly knelt down in front of you and began to kiss up your thigh. His warm tongue gently lapped at your soft skin. "Mmm, and these thighs—you could smother me with them. I would die a happy man."

You couldn't help but giggle at his absurd words, but Hyunjin only continued. He hooked his fingers into the sides of your Hello Kitty panties and pulled them down. "And your pussy..." He leaned in, kissing the lips of your now very wet sex. "It's so pretty and pink, so warm, soft, and tight. Just perfect for me." He gazed at you as if admiring a work of art, and in that moment, you allowed yourself to be seen.

He made you feel truly beautiful—the way he touched you, spoke about you, and looked at you. Hyunjin stood up and once again pulled you close, engulfing you in his arms. "Let's take a bath, yeah?" he said simply before kissing your lips a few times.

Once the bath was drawn, you watched as Hyunjin undressed. He was lean and muscular in all the right places, with a few small tattoos scattered across his skin. His erection stood proud between his muscular thighs. Hyunjin stepped in first and sat down, holding out his hand to help you into the bath as well. "Face me?" he asked, and you complied, settling onto his thighs.

You could feel the twitch of his cock resting against your lower stomach. Hyunjin's hands rested on your thighs before moving up to your hips, pulling you closer. He dipped his head, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss started slow and sweet, just how you liked it. Hyunjin seemed to know all your preferences.

His wet tongue swiped across your bottom lip, seeking entry. You parted your lips without hesitation, allowing his tongue to tangle with yours. The only sounds were the gentle sloshing of bathwater and the soft, wet noises of your deep kisses.

When you finally pulled apart to breathe, Hyunjin's gaze was filled with need. His hands roamed over your body, cupping your breasts and gripping your thighs. "I want you so bad, y/n," he breathed against your lips. "Fuck me, baby..." His velvety voice cut through the silence as his strong hands lifted you up.

Hyunjin helped position you, his cock poised at your entrance. "Is this okay? I don't have protection," he asked cautiously. You always used protection, but at this moment, you couldn't care less. Your body craved him, needing every inch inside you. "I don't care, it's fine," you said hurriedly, gripping his broad shoulders as you sank down onto him.

You gasped loudly at how deep he was inside you. Hyunjin's unexpected whimper surprised you, but you found yourself loving it—he was usually so quiet in bed. You moved your hips in a circular motion, causing water to slosh out of the tub, but neither of you cared.

Eventually, you found a rhythm together, Hyunjin rolling his hips up to meet yours. Your arms wrapped firmly around his neck as you made love in an agonizingly slow way. It was sweet torture, both of you chasing that high but taking your time to savor every moment.

"God, you feel so good wrapped around me," Hyunjin murmured, his lips trailing from your chest to your neck. He peppered kisses and love bites across your breasts and collarbone. Your moans grew louder and deeper as your orgasm approached.

Hyunjin's breathy moans became more urgent and intense. His hands grew greedier, tugging and gripping at your wet skin. Your bodies slid smoothly against each other as you moved together. "Hyunjin... I'm going to cum," you whined, burying your face in his neck to muffle your sounds.

Hyunjin lifted your head, cupping your chin. "Look at me as you cum," he said, his lips parted and breathing heavy. You could tell he was close too, his thighs trembling beneath you. "Oh fuck... cum with me," you moaned as your orgasm hit you hard.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room as you clenched around him. You felt Hyunjin pulse inside you, his eyes rolling back and head tilting as his own release washed over him. "Fuck, y/n," he chanted your name until he was spent.

His head fell onto your chest, your arms loosely encircling him. "Baby... you're going to be the death of me," he said with a muffled laugh against your breast. "Like you said, at least you'd die a happy man," you teased. Hyunjin lifted his head and kissed your lips softly. "Hell yes, I would. I'm the happiest man on Earth right now."

After regaining your strength and cleaning up, you both took a shower together before deciding to fix a late supper. Hyunjin fetched water for you both, walking shamelessly around in nothing but his boxers. You were cooking some ramen in the kitchen, wearing his oversized shirt.

You two had been dating for a while, but despite spending so much time together, you had yet to meet his friends or family. He hadn't met yours either. You both had agreed to keep your relationship low-key, mainly due to your parents being difficult and having your entire life planned out for you. Hyunjin said he had his reasons as well, but as you stood in the kitchen, you couldn't recall him ever sharing those reasons.

"Babe, can I ask you something?" you called to him across the small space separating your kitchen from the living room.

"Anything," he replied, entering the kitchen with a smile. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close.

"Do you think maybe we could start telling people about us?" His eyes clouded at this question, and his hold on you loosened.

"I'd just like to do more than eat at my place," you continued. "I want to see where you live. I want to meet your friends and family. I actually think I'm ready for you to meet my parents too." You turned off the stove, drained the noodles, and placed them in separate bowls. Hyunjin watched you for a moment before speaking.

"Y/n, I'd love to go on dates with you, and we can do things anytime you want, but you don't want to meet my friends or family." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "They... they just aren't worthy of meeting someone as precious as you." He then flashed that sweet smile of his and pulled you close again, pecking your lips.

"I have some things to take care of on Saturday, but Sunday, let's go eat brunch and have a day out together. What do you say?" His eyes shone as he looked down at you. You melted instantly and nodded.

"Okay, we can go shopping, maybe see a movie," you suggested. As you two settled in to eat and spend the evening together, a nagging thought lingered in the back of your mind: why couldn't you meet his family and friends? Why couldn't you see that side of his life?

The next morning, sunlight filtered through your bedroom window, casting a golden glow over your face and gently rousing you from sleep. You reached out, finding Hyunjin's side of the bed empty and cold. With a small stretch, you crawled out of bed, memories of last night's intimacy bringing a smile to your face.

Slipping on Hyunjin's discarded shirt, you went in search of your lover. You found him on the balcony, a coffee mug on the small iron table beside him and a sketchpad in hand. The morning sun illuminated his features, making him look even more beautiful than usual. Your heart clenched as the thought "I love this man" passed through your mind, though you weren't ready to say those words aloud.

Hyunjin must have heard you approaching. As you slid your hands over his bare shoulders, he turned to kiss the side of your hand. "Mmm, how did you sleep?" he asked softly, looking up at you. Your eyes moved from his handsome face to the sketch he was drawing. "I slept really well. I see you didn't sleep that well," you replied, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

"I just have things on my mind. Nothing to worry about, though. Come here," he said, gently tugging you around the chair and onto his lap. You sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun rise higher and feeling its warmth. Hyunjin peppered tiny kisses on your shoulder, neck, and cheek.

"Are you getting hungry? Maybe we could go out for breakfast?" you asked. Just then, Hyunjin's phone rang, instantly distracting him. "Hold on, love," he said, gently moving you off his lap to take the call inside. You sighed heavily and glanced at his sketch—a very pretty woman, naked in her bed, curled up with twisted covers around her.

"Y/n," Hyunjin's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." He was buttoning his pants as he approached, hoodie in hand. "Really? How long will you be gone?" you asked, watching him with pleading eyes. You wanted to ask him to stay, but held back, not wanting to seem clingy. You followed him inside, watching as he put on his shoes and hoodie. "I'm not sure, baby. I know I'll be late. I'll call you to let you know if I'm coming over to stay again, okay?"

He finally looked at you properly as he ran his fingers through his messy black hair. Seeing your expression, his face softened. "Don't be upset. I still remember promising you a date tomorrow. You'll have me all day." Hyunjin pulled you close, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, then your forehead. "I'll see you soon, my love." And with that, you watched him leave.

Hours passed since Hyunjin's departure. You reached out to friends, hoping to hang out, but everyone was busy. To distract yourself from boredom, you turned on music and cleaned your apartment. Throughout the day, you texted him several times and called once, but received no response.

As night fell, you sat on your couch, struggling to focus on assignments for your classes. Your mind kept wandering to thoughts of Hyunjin.

Where was he? Why was he always so secretive?

Just as your thoughts began to spiral, your phone lit up with your friend's name. You answered on the second ring. "Hey, Dea. How are you?"

"I'm good! Actually, I was calling to see if you'd want to go to a party tonight?" Her tone was hopeful. She knew parties weren't your thing—you'd rather visit an art museum than watch college kids act wild. "Umm... I... I don't know."

Dea huffed into the phone. "Oh, come on! You never have fun. You never go out. You're always with that mystery guy. Come hang out with me. I promise I won't get drunk, and if you end up having a really bad time, we can leave." You considered it for a moment, hearing her whisper "please" repeatedly under her breath. You couldn't help but smile at her childlike energy. "Okay, fine. Come pick me up and I'll go with you. But if you leave my side, I'm never hanging out with you again."

Dea squealed into the phone, making you jerk it away from your ear. "Yes! Okay, I promise you'll have a good time! See you soon." After hanging up, you started getting ready.

Not trying to impress anyone, you slipped on a pair of jeans and a simple beige tank top. You left your hair down and applied minimal makeup. Sandals to match your tank completed the look. Dea, on the other hand... When you opened your door to leave with her, she was fully put together in a classic little black dress, her makeup flawless and hair loosely curled around her face. She was tall, thin, and gorgeous.

"Come on, bestie!" She grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door.

On the way to the party, you learned that Dea's friend Minho—whom you'd only met once—had invited her. The event was being hosted by Minho's best friend, Chan. As you approached your destination, anxiety crept in; you didn't know any of these people.

It turned out Chan came from wealth. Dea pulled up to a mansion in a gated community, resembling a miniature White House. "Dea, what the fuck?" was all you could muster. She grinned widely, "I know, right? Minho said it was a big house, but damn... this guy must be loaded."

After parking and overcoming your initial awe, you followed Dea inside. The place was packed with bodies. "Come on, Y/n! Let's get a drink!" Dea linked arms with you, pulling you through the crowd. The air was hot and hazy with cigarette and weed smoke. People were dancing, shouting, or engaged in intimate acts—you even spotted a couple grinding against a wall.

You eventually found the drinks, manned by a cute guy with chubby cheeks and wavy brown hair that fell over his round eyes. "Two beers please!" you yelled over the music. He looked at you oddly. "This isn't a bar! Get it yourself!" he shouted back before turning to a long-haired blond guy. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed two cups and poured drinks for yourself and Dea.

"Here yo—" you began, but Dea had vanished. "Seriously!" Leaving the beer behind, you searched for your friend, determined to give her a piece of your mind when you found her.

You wandered through the massive house and even checked the backyard pool area. No luck. Deciding to head for the front door to call an Uber, you navigated the maze-like crowd of tipsy partygoers. In what appeared to be the living room, you finally spotted Dea dancing with a muscular dark-haired guy.

"You've got to be kidding me," you muttered, approaching her. But you froze, witnessing the worst sight imaginable.

There on the couch was your boyfriend, kissing a heavily tattooed girl. You felt faint, your heart pounding painfully. The music blared, but you couldn't hear it. As another guy pulled the girl off Hyunjin, his eyes met yours.

His dark brown gaze locked onto you. At first, you were paralyzed, but as he rushed towards you, your legs sprang into action. You pushed through the crowd, desperate to escape. At the front door, Hyunjin caught up, grabbing your arm. "Y/n! Please wait!"

You didn't pull away but kept moving, tugging in the opposite direction as Hyunjin tried to draw you closer. He gave up and followed you to Dea's car. "Y/n, just let me explain. That wasn't what it looked like." You whirled around, fixing him with tear-filled, angry eyes. "It wasn't? Then tell me, Hyunjin, what the hell was it?"

He stumbled over his words, "She's my best friend. The one I've mentioned from high school. She was only trying to make Chan jealous. I didn't even kiss her back." He reached for your hands, but you stepped away. "Don't." The simple word visibly hurt him, but you couldn't bear his touch.

Tears streamed down your face. "Okay, let's say I believe that. Why didn't you tell me about this party? Why didn't you invite me?" You hugged yourself, closing off. "Are you embarrassed to be seen with me, Hyunjin? Am I not pretty enough to be seen with you like your so-called best friend?"

He inched forward, hands outstretched. "No, baby, God no! That's not... that's not it at all. I've told you how I feel about you." You pulled out your phone, "Actually, no, you haven't. I never know what's going on in your head. In fact, I barely know you at all, and we've been dating for six months!" You raised the phone to your ear, "Dea, I'm at the car. Can we leave? I'm suddenly having the worst time. I want to go home."

Dea agreed to come right away. "Please... let's talk about this," Hyunjin pleaded, finally grasping your hand. You jerked away. "Don't touch me!" Seeing Dea emerge from the house, you delivered your parting words: "When you're no longer ashamed to be seen with me in public, call me. But for now, just leave me alone." You got into the car as Dea approached, her questions already beginning.

Hyunjin remained in the darkened street, wiping his eyes as tears fell freely.

Tags:

@cashtonsbetch @moonndustx @katsukis1wife @valkyriexo @hyunjinhoexxx @ihrtlino @breezy-simp @vixensss @yaorzu-blog @tirena1 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @chuuyaobsessed @doohnut @babigriin @iovecb97 @kpflyn @rylea08 @sheerfreesia007 @tsunderelino @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @moonchild9350 @syedazarintasnim @myflowercloud @143hyunes @luvyblossom @shecheatedwithme @antisocialties @akaligogrrr @thisaintredwine @rose-w-00-d @jisuperboard @velvetmoonlight @kayleefriedchicken @skzfelixlove @athforskz

[hysteria-things]

can u do bf chris hc ?? 😝

BF!CHRIS HEADCANNONS

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: there is a SFW and NSFW section

SFW!

spoils the fuck out of you with no shame, even when you say it’s unnecessary.

one time you were gushing over a stuffed animal you saw in a store, so the next day he went back to get it for you. he also got flowers and your favorite snacks to add onto your gift.

“chris. this is so unnecessary.”

“what? am i not allowed to treat my girl?”

touches you at all times, his hand either around your waist or as subtle as his pointer finger hooking onto your belt loops on your jeans when you guys are walking together.

will immediately notice if something’s bugging you or if you’re upset.

even after a rough day at work, you’ll still hang out with your boyfriend. you’re visibly exhausted, not wanting to be around other people but it’ll make you feel bad for chris. he’ll greet you at the door, but pause to study you.

“are you okay?”

“yes! i’m fine.”

he can tell you’re lying, but you try to walk away as he softly grabs wrist. he tilts his head with concern.

“woah, woah, y/n. what’s wrong? tell me.”

he’ll let you rant to him for as long as you need, listening intently the whole time.

in some cases you’ll break down, and he’ll try his best to comfort you as much as he can.

NSFW!

literally will wreck you unless you say otherwise LOL

idc what you guys say he’s a sex tape guy

something about hearing your moans and whimpers through his phone turns. him. the. fuck. on. he loves watching how he fucks you.

another thing he’ll do is take photos, either during or post-sex.

he can be possessive, not in a toxic way, but if you let a guy flirt with you right in front of him he’ll have no issue putting you in your place. (you’re too oblivious to realize the guy is flirting, but he will always know)

chris’ dick is stuffed in your mouth, his hand gripping your head as he guides you on his shaft. your makeup is smudged, the straps on your dress now fallen off your shoulders. once the guy walked away, chris dragged you to the bathroom. the echoes of your slurps and gags bounce off the walls.

“i wonder if that dude can hear you choking on my cock. i’m sure he won’t talk to you again when you walk out with my cum dripping down your chin.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl

[strang3lov3]

Cup of Sugar

Dilf!neighbor!joel x fem reader (pre outbreak)

Summary: You often borrow from your neighbor, Joel. He catches you in his home, digging through his belongings for batteries when your vibrator dies.

WC: 4.5k

Warnings: Smut!! Dirty talk, smug joel, masturbation, blowies, vibrators, unprotected piv, joel is fully clothed and reader is butt ass naked! Soft!dom joel vibes

AN: Dedicated to all my faves, @notjustjavierpena, @macfrog, @gracieispunk, @toxicanonymity and @speckledemerald i love all y’all with my entire heart<3

Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed ❤️

The ceiling fan needs to be fixed. You’ve been meaning to get that taken care of. It’s the first thing you think of on Saturday morning, when you wake up in your bed to the sound of lawn mowers and weed whackers. A gentle breeze comes from your open window and ghosts over your skin, reminding you to get your ceiling fan fixed.

 Saturdays were often your busiest days. Between cleaning, grocery shopping, and getting ready to go out for drinks with your friends, you don’t have much time for just you. Which, arguably, is what weekends should be for. 

You get out of bed and start getting ready for the day. You shower, get dressed, do your hair and your makeup just how you like. You feed your pets and you’re out the door to take on this beautiful Saturday.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone waving good morning to you. It’s Joel, wearing nothing except for his grass stained jean cutoffs as he mows his lawn. His dark curls are damp and stuck to his forehead, his torso shimmers in the sunlight. You catch a glimpse of his soft tummy and the thin line of hair leading down from his navel. 

You nearly faint right then and there. Joel’s your ridiculously sexy dilf of a next door neighbor. You’ve been absolutely smitten with him for what feels like eternity, and his slutty lawn mowing outfits are not helping you one bit. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he calls to you after turning off his mower. “Big plans today?”

“Grocery shopping,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your cool. You don’t want to say much and trip over your words. God, he makes your knees buckle. “And chores. Then going out to drink with a few friends.”

He nods. “Stay outta trouble,” he tells you with a charming wink, and then he pulls the cord of his mower and begins working on his lawn again. You watch his back muscles twitch and shine in the hot sun, his plump ass filling his shorts just right. 

Fuuuck. You’re nearly salivating at the sight. He’s gonna be an issue again today. 

And an issue he was. 

At the grocery store, you walk past the lawn mowers and other yard work supplies. Joel. You scan your groceries and check out, and you just know you’re forgetting something.

At home, washing your bedding. You can’t help but wonder how his bedding looks, how it would smell and feel with your face pressed into the mattress as he pounds you from behind. Does he keep his bed neatly made? Messy?

At the bar, watching the drops of condensation slide down the glass. You’re thinking of the way Joel looks with beads of sweat dripping down his face, down the dip of his temple and the sharp curve of his jaw. Your friends are trying to talk to you, but your mind is elsewhere. The condensation pools at the table under the glass. 

As the night finally draws to a close, you drive yourself home. It’s late, most of the lights are off in the neighborhood, including Joel’s. You walk into your home, toss your keys on the end table by your door and make your way to your bedroom.

You’re aching between your thighs, your skin feels hot and your mind is focused on just one thing. You strip bare and flop on your bed, reaching for your hot pink bunny eared vibrator. Ol’ reliable. 

Usually, you like to take your time with your self-love. Tease yourself a little, build up that anticipation. Joel’s done that enough to you today, so you get right to business. With your legs spread wide, you turn the vibrator on and press the toy to your center, using it to spread your arousal up to your clit and back down again. 

Maybe two minutes in, just as you find the perfect spot and the perfect pace, and then the whine of the vibrator begins dying down. You let out an incoherent stream of obscenities as you realize what’s happening, then the vibrator’s buzzing finally comes to a heartbreaking stop. “Fuck,” you hiss. Batteries.

You’re irked. You fucking knew you were forgetting something at the store. And you’d think the way you were fantasizing of Joel all day, you would have remembered to pick up the fucking batteries for your vibrator. He is the object of your affection, after all.

You have extras stashed, don’t you? You open your bedside table drawer to check and…nothing. Maybe in the closet downstairs, where you keep your cleaning supplies and first aid stuff? You throw on your robe real quick and check. Nope. You slam the door, irate with frustration.

You’re getting desperate now, and out of the corner of your eye you notice a dim green light, flashing gently. The smoke alarm. That has to have batteries you can steal for a little while, right? It’s not like it’s preventing you from dying in a house fire or anything. You grab a stool and unscrew the alarm from the top of the ceiling and, and,

It has batteries. 

But they’re nine volts. Not even close to the triple A’s you require. 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You need to calm down. Women have fingers for a reason, after all. But god bless it, it’s not the fucking same!

In the dark of your kitchen, you get yourself a glass of water and stare out the window at Joel’s house. And as you take a sip of water, it hits you.

Joel probably has batteries. 

You slip on your flip flops and leave your house, heading over to Joel’s backdoor. 

Are you about to break and enter into his home? No, of course not. That would be absurd. You have a key, duh. 

It started with a cup of sugar. 

Once, you had knocked on Joel’s door asking to borrow a cup of sugar for the sheet cake you were making for the neighborhood barbecue. You, ever so forgetful, had failed to remember to pick up sugar on that particular grocery shopping trip. 

Joel left and returned moments later with a large container full of sugar, way more than a cup. You were expecting a baggie with a single cup of sugar inside, not the whole bin. Men, you thought. You thanked him and promised to give his sugar back soon. You never did. 

The next time, it was eggs. You knocked on Joel’s door, but were met with no answer. So you called him. 

“Hey, what’s up sugar?” Your heart swelled at the nickname. It’s what Joel teasingly called you when you never returned his bin full of sugar, not that he really minded.  “Just need a favor. Are you home?”

“Maybe,” he said. “What do you need?”

“Just like, three eggs for the cupcakes tomorrow,”

After trying your delicious sheet cake, Joel was hooked. He had asked you to make cupcakes for Sarah’s birthday, strawberry with vanilla frosting. You had all the ingredients except for a few eggs, and you didn’t feel like running all the way across town for them. 

Joel exaggerated a groan, faking annoyance. “Those are my last eggs, you know. Am I gonna have to starve at breakfast tomorrow morning?” You let out a giggle at his dramatics. “It’s your breakfast or your daughter’s cupcakes, Joel,” 

“Cupcakes,” he decided. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Take the eggs. S’all good, sugar. I’ll have toast.”

You were about to speak, but Joel interrupted. “Won’t be home for a while. Help yourself, just use the key I gave ya. Happy baking, sugar,”

Joel had given you a key long ago. If he was ever in a pinch working late, he’d call you and ask you to babysit Sarah for him. He gave you a key so you could help yourself inside to make her an after school snack or dinner before she got home. Not that Sarah really needed the help, being so self sufficient. But he liked knowing you were there to take care of her when he wasn’t.

“Bye, Joel,”

And that was your neighborly routine. Babysitting Sarah, borrowing different things from Joel. A flashlight or a screwdriver. Ice, when your freezer broke. Sarah and Joel would borrow from you too, a pair of scissors or a hot glue gun for school projects. Once, they had borrowed your printer late at night when Sarah forgot she had a history paper due the next morning. It’s what neighbors are for, after all.

At Joel’s door with his key in your hand, you jiggle it into the doorknob and quietly open the door, careful not to let it creak too loud. You don’t want to wake up Sarah or Joel. 

You tiptoe through his house, first to his living room. You check the drawer of one of his end tables, nothing. Then the entertainment center where he keeps his video game controllers and such, surely he would keep batteries there too? Nope. You close the doors of the entertainment center and make your way to the kitchen. As quietly as you can you open his junk drawer next to the sink and begin moving items around. There’s a phone book, notecards, pens and pencils. The scissors you lent to Sarah. But no fucking batt-

“What are you doin’ riflin’ through my shit at this ungodly hour?” You jump as a voice interrupts you. You stand up straight and turn your head to the source of the sound, and it’s Joel. His hair is messy and sticking up six ways from Sunday, his soft gray sweatpants hang low on his hips and his thin t-shirt hugs his biceps just so. He’s got one eyebrow cocked, half in amusement and half in annoyance. 

“I just need to borrow something. I'll be out in a second. Didn’t mean to wake you Joel, I’m sorry,” you apologize. You curse yourself for being so noisy, but you can’t help it. You’re frantic for these fucking batteries. 

Joel steps down the stairs. “What do you need so badly right now?”

“Just some batteries,” you mumble. 

“Batteries?” Joel asks. “The fuck do you need batteries so bad for it can’t wait til’ morning?”

You didn’t think this far ahead. You were expecting to find the batteries and just go, not be interrogated by Joel. But you know you’re not in a place to argue. 

“Uhh,” you start, “Flashlight. I need triple A’s.”

Joel just nods quietly, his eyes are droopy with sleepiness and he walks to a kitchen cabinet, the one containing different odds and ends. You see the box of batteries and he reaches to pull a few out for you, but then pauses before handing them to you. “Wait a minute. Thought you didn’t have one. S’why you’re always stealin’ my flashlight,”

“Yeah, sorry. I meant the remote,” Smooth. 

“Mmm,” Joel murmurs, rotating the batteries in his hand. He’s staring you down, taking you all in. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy. You’re wearing just a robe, and he’s sure there’s nothing underneath. Your voice is shaking, your breathing is loud and unsteady. 

“Come on Joel, I’m missing my show. Please,” 

Joel doesn’t give you the batteries yet, he just keeps playing with them in his hand. It’s distracting, the way his fingers move so deftly. He bites his cheek and raises his eyebrows at you. He knows exactly why you’re so flustered, and he suspects it’s the same reason you need batteries at the fucking dead hour. 

“What show?”

“What?”

“I asked what show you’re watching tonight,” 

You swallow thickly, your brain is racing as you try to think up a lie. “X-Files,”

“Hm. Who’s your favorite character?”

Damn. Ask more questions, why don’t you? “Sully,” you reply with partial confidence, even though you’re not really sure if that character exists or you’re confusing them with something else.  

“He’s from Monsters Inc, hon. Try again,” You stammer. Maybe it was a bad idea to pick a show you don’t watch to lie about. Joel answers for you, “Did ya mean Scully?”

You nod. “Yeah. Him,”

Joel just smiles tightly, nodding slowly like he knows something you don’t. You’re so full of shit. “Guess what, sugar,”

“What?”

“X-Files ain’t on tonight,” he whispers with a lopsided grin. 

Busted. 

“And I can tell you don’t watch it,”   Joel takes a few imposing steps toward you, you take a few steps back as well. Your lower back hits the counter behind you, pinning you between itself and Joel. You hear the sound of him setting the batteries down next to you. “You think you’re slick, don’t ya? Lyin’ t’me like this.”

Your heart is racing out of our chest as he places his two hands on either side of you on the counter. “What?”

“Did your lil’ fuck toy die on you?” he taunts, his breath is hot on your face. Your eyes widen at the accusation. “It did, didn’t it?”

Your silence is the only answer he needs. 

“So that’s what you’re playin’ with when I hear you whimperin’ for me late at night, hm?” You can only look down at the floor in shame. You didn’t realize you were loud enough for Joel to hear through his own bedroom, which mirrors yours. “You really should keep that window closed, sweetheart.”

You’re not exactly sure where this is going, you’re nervous and excited. Is he mad? Turned on? You can’t tell. “The fan’s broken, it gets hot,” you try to explain while stammering.

 “I’d be happy to fix your fan for ya, but that’s not what we’re talkin’ about right now,”

Joel’s eyes are piercing, he never breaks eye contact as one of his hands leaves the counter. He pulls the fabric of your robe away from your chest a little more, and you look down to watch his next move. “Joel,” you gasp, surprised.

“Nothin’ under here, hm?” he croons as he begins playing with your nipple, hardened by your arousal and the cool air. You moan quietly when he teases it, pinching and twisting it slowly. He looks at you with big and concerned eyes as if to ask that this is okay. You nod in response, of course it’s okay. This is what you’ve dreamed of for so long.

Joel’s hand slides down your body until his fingers find your dripping seam. He slides them through your slick folds teasingly, he cocks his eyebrow when he finds you’re soaked to the bone. “And you were right there, weren’t you?”

You don’t answer, you just keen into his touch a little more. 

“Don’t get all shy on me now, sugar,”

“Yeah,” you admit. 

“Shoot. You poor thing,”

It’s completely silent between you both. Deafening silence. Joel wears a smug grin on his face. He pulls his hand away from your center, reaching for the batteries he set on the counter. 

Before you can even process what you’re doing, you reach for his hand again. “Please,” you breathe. 

“Please what, sugar?”

You don’t have words right now. Not that you did before this moment, either. You put his hand back at your pussy, using your body to tell him what you want. That you want this to continue, that you’re begging him not to stop touching you. Fuck the batteries. 

“Ohhh,” he whispers, realizing. “Want me to get you off tonight, don’t ya?”

You nod with hungry and desperate eyes, thankful that this is going in the best direction it possibly could have. “Please, Joel, need you to touch me,”

It’s not a second before he grabs you by the hips, turns you around and shoves you down to your knees. “No,” he spits, one of his hands is tangled in your hair as the other is untying the knot at his pajama bottoms. He pulls his cock out before you, rock hard and angry. “Think you can just sneak into my house to steal batteries for your little toy?”

You’re at a loss for words, in disbelief that this is the position you’re in now.

“And now you want me to help ya rub one out. S’that right?” When you don’t answer he impatiently taps your cheek with the tip of his cock, smearing precum on your face. “Answer me.”

“Yes, please,”

Joel scoffs. “You’re unbelievable,” he remarks. “Think you’re pretty fuckin’ entitled, sugar. That’s not how this works.”

You feel your heartbeat in every inch of your body, blood rushing through your head. Your eyes dart between his face and his cock in front of you, not sure which part of him to focus your attention to. 

“Here’s how this’ll go,” he begins, pressing his cock against your plump lips. They part slightly at the intrusion, but he doesn’t yet push himself into your mouth. “You do what I say, when I say it. We clear?”

You nod. 

“Repeat it,” he demands. 

“I follow your rules,” you whisper against his member. You can just barely taste him, and you’re hungry for more.

“Attagirl,” Joel praises you, and he shoves himself unceremoniously into your mouth. You nearly gag, pulling back slightly but he holds you right where he wants you. 

He’s big. That’s the first thing you notice. He stretches your mouth out wide and fills you up entirely. Then you notice his tuft of slightly unkempt pubic hair that your nose is nudging. Your eyes flutter shut and you savor the way he tastes, tangy and slightly salty from the sweat. 

His voice interrupts your thoughts. “Take your robe off f’me, sug,”

You do as you’re told, untying and shimmying off the thin robe from around your shoulders as you bob your head on his dick. You hollow your cheeks around him, letting him feel every inch of your mouth, so soft and wet. He’s domineering above you, but his hand on your head is gentle. He untangles his fingers from your hair and moves them to your cheek, caressing your skin gently. You can’t tell what the gesture means, if it’s supposed to be comforting or his way of letting you know he’s the one in charge.

You feel him twitch in your mouth every so often as you continue sucking his cock. You look up at him with wide eyes, he looks down at you through hooded lids. You wonder what he’s thinking. 

“I wanna watch you touch yourself,” he requests, but it’s more of a demand. His voice low and gravelly.

You spread your legs slightly and your hand finds your center, your fingers slip and slide through your dripping pussy. 

“Fuck yourself,” is his next command, “Deep as you can go. Come on now,”

You insert a single finger inside of yourself, using your body’s rocking motion to propel your finger deep inside you. But it’s not quite what you need. You pull your mouth off Joel’s cock, which garners you a look of irritation from him. “Need more,” you beg. 

“Yeah? Whatcha need?”

“You, Joel. Please,” 

“Awh,” Joel tilts his head and pouts at you mockingly. “Beggars can’t be choosers. You know that, silly girl.”

You open your mouth to plead for him, but he shuts you up by shoving his cock back into your mouth with a grunt. 

“Keep fuckin’ yourself real nice f’me,” he says. “Gonna watch you come all over those pretty fingers.”

You whine a little and shift on your knees, trying to find the right angle while still taking Joel down your throat. Eventually you do, and you add a second finger while grinding your clit down on your thumb. 

You and Joel find a steady pace, him fucking your mouth and you fucking yourself. You feel the beginning of an orgasm coming on and focus hard on that feeling, letting it build and wash over you. You moan and choke on Joel’s thick cock as you come, spit dribbling down your lips and your chin. 

“Good girl,” he praises you. “Good fuckin’ girl.” 

At this point, your lips and your jaw are sore. You wonder what’s next to come, Joel finishing down your throat or something else. It’s not long before you find out, he pulls away from you and brings you to your feet. 

“What was it you were wantin’ again, sugar? D’ya wanna come all over my cock?”

You try to hold back your excitement, slightly embarrassed by the effect he has on you. 

“Tell me, were you thinkin’ of me tonight? Before that lil’ fuck toy of yours died?”

“All day, Joel,” you whine. “Needed you all day.”

“All day,” he repeats, amused. He turns you around to face the counter,  pulls you back by your hips a bit and nudges your feet apart. “How ‘bout that. What were ya thinkin’ about me?” 

“Y-” you gasp, your words interrupted when you feel the thick head of his cock prodding your slit. He drags it up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

“Go on, now,” His southern accent is thick like honey as he teases you.

“When you were mowing this morning-” you choked out. “You looked so handsome.”

“Handsome, hm? S’awful kind of ya,” Joel notches the tip of his dick inside you and sort of pulses inside you, ever so slightly moving in and out of your dripping entrance. “Got me blushin’, sugar.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he buries himself inside of you. You yelp at the sudden intrusion and without missing a beat, Joel wraps a hand around your mouth.

“Pipe down,” he growls. You nod frantically into his hand, which he promptly removes from your mouth and places on the back of your head. Firmly, but not so rough that he hurts you, he pushes your face down into the counter and holds you steady there by the back of your neck. His hand is warm on your neck, the pressure of his strength against you is both comforting and somewhat of a warning. Your guts churn as desire shoots through your veins like electricity. 

Joel finds a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. His cock hits you right where you need him. 

“Jesus, sugar. Feel good?”

“Fuck,” is all you can get out. You’re lost in him, your skin is on fire and all you can feel is Joel. His thighs hitting your ass, his balls slapping against your clit. One of his hands on your waist, holding you steady. “You feel good, s’good.”

Joel lets out a strangled kind of noise, somewhere between a whine and a groan. You hear his sharp and unsteady breathing through his gritted teeth, and you wish you could see him like this. You can just about picture it perfectly, his messy hair flopping with each of his thrusts and his brow furrowed, the little line between them more prominent than it usually is.

He fucks you at a devastating rhythm, both of you panting and moaning. Joel’s a little more vocal than you would have expected. You can tell he’s trying to keep as quiet as he can, but he lets out strangled moans here and there, as if he can’t help it at all. When he’s quiet, you wonder how he does it. Is his lip pinned under his teeth? Is he holding his breath?

He taps your cheek. “Look at yourself, baby,”

You open your eyes, and you see your reflection in his glass patio door. You’re stark naked and being mercilessly fucked and Joel’s behind you, still fully clothed. His plump ass peeks out from his gray sweats.

“You look real pretty with my cock in ya, sugar. Always knew you would,” he purrs. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, and you reach an arm behind you to hold onto his own, where he’s still gripping your hips. He holds you in a vice grip and you’re sure you’ll be a painting of bruises tomorrow, a picture of pure, unadulterated sex.

His hand on your neck finally leaves, and he wraps it around the front of your body until he finds your clit. You almost miss the way he pressed you into the cold countertop. 

“Alright, now,” he breathes, “Keep lookin at us when you come.”

You nod into the countertop. Even if he didn’t tell you what to do, you’d still be watching yourself and him in the reflection of the glass. You couldn’t peel your eyes away if you tried.

He expertly paints circles into your clit as his once calculated and steady thrusts turn frenzied and he loses his rhythm. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Joel,” you’re gasping, feeling your walls clench and squeeze him. “Right there, right there, fuck.”

“Go on, let go f’me,” he pants. 

With a few more circles tracing your clit, you fall apart on him. You come with a loud whine, and Joel pulls you up to cover your mouth with his hand once more. His arm is between your breasts and you’re not sure if the hot sweating on your back is from you or him. You don’t mind either way. 

He doesn’t yet stop fucking you, and the sensation is becoming all too much. Your moaning is muffled by his hand as he chases his own orgasm, and he spills into you with shuddering breaths and grunts, painting milky white ropes of come on your insides. 

You groan at the loss as he pulls out of you and his spend is warm as it drips from your pussy and down your thighs. You turn around to face Joel, both of you panting as you catch your breath. His dominant demeanor is gone as he bends down to pick up your robe and holds it open for you, you turn around and slither your arms through the sleeves. Without words, he turns you around and ties it in the front, then you slide your flip flops back on your feet. The whole song and dance feels oddly domestic and sweet.

With his hand on the small of your back, he guides you out his door and walks you to your home.

“Don’t have too much fun,” he warns you teasingly, placing the two triple A batteries in your hand. “And close that window. I wanna be the only one to hear ya moanin’ all pretty like that.”

You nod with a shy smile, and Joel kisses your lips and then your forehead. The gentleness of the gesture feels odd, but not wrong. You’re suddenly feeling bashful, as if Joel just didn’t have you butt naked and bent over his kitchen counter. 

“I’ll be by to fix that fan for ya, sugar,” 

And then he walks away. And you go inside and back to your bedroom, first making sure to close your window. You watch the light in Joel’s bedroom turn off.

 You lay in bed and play with the triple A batteries in your hand, still feeling the tingle of his lips on yours, the dull ache of the bruises his fingers left on your hips. 

You never did end up replacing those batteries. Just like how you never gave back the sugar.

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[street-smarts00]

Overwhelmed

Spencer Reid x Autistic!Reader

Summary: Reader gets sensory overload while on a case. Spencer knows how it feels and exactly how to help them.

WC: 1.3k

Based on request

Tags: autistic!reader, gender neutral reader but I only mention pronouns like once. Sensory overload, fluff

A/N: I hope you guys like the fic! I'm familiar with sensory issues cause I have ADHD but I am allistic so I tried my best.

While you were at work it became second nature to mask. Biting back the urge to repeat others when your echolalia was on the tip of your tongue. Bottling up your emotions when they started to feel too strong.

Not stimming at work was found to be the biggest challenge. You tried to find little outlets like tapping your fingertips or playing with your jewelry. But if you didn’t have to mask, you'd probably end up swaying in your seat, clicking pens, or shaking out your hands from nerves or excitement.

Today, you were away on a case with the team. You've been busy since practically the crack of dawn and were both physically and mentally exhausted.

Some of the members of your team were following leads while you and Spencer were going through letters and gifts delivered to the victims before their deaths.

You were reading a letter from the unsub while the loud voices from the precinct seeped into the office your team had settled in. The words on the page in front of you were starting to bleed together. You must have read the same sentence at least 5 times; and yet, you had retained none of the information.

The noise only seemed to get louder and more defined. You could hear at least 4 different voices, the incessant clicking of keyboards, the coffee machine, and a constant buzzing of the electricity from the lights overhead.

And on top of the overwhelming noise, the lights in the room only seemed to get brighter. You kept squinting or rubbing your eyes every minute or so. But nothing could help the words on the page from floating away.

“You okay?”

Your focus was pulled back to reality from the voice across the table. You looked up and met Spencer’s gaze.

“Fine,” you said plainly trying to hide the fact that your head felt like it was going to explode.

“Are you sure? You’ve been staring at that letter for five minutes.”

“I said I’m fine,” you quickly replied a bit harsher than before. You didn’t mean to, you would never snap at him.

You put down the paper and ran your hand over your jeans. Desperate to distract yourself from your other senses.

Your eyes get lost in the pile of paper in front you so you don’t notice Spencer getting up and walking across the room. You don’t notice until the cacophony of the station dulls. It now sounds muffled, almost completely gone.

As you continue tracing your hand against your jeans you hear a soft noise come from behind you. You turn around to see Spencer closing the blinds of the window that leads to the bullpen. He then turns off some of the overhead lights, turning the room dim.

With your mind still fuzzy, you couldn’t comprehend what he was doing but you were grateful for it. The dimmed lights and sound with the added privacy of the blinds helped you start to relax. Yet you still clung to the rough texture of the denim of your jeans.

Spencer then pulled up a chair to sit in front of you and face you.

“Hey,” he held up his hand in front of you. “Put your hand out like this”.

You copied him with the hand that wasn’t running up and down your thigh. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his, you glanced between your lap and his hand.

“Take a deep breath and slowly close your fist while you inhale. Then hold your breath for four seconds while you make a fist. Like this.”

Spencer slowly inhaled as he closed his hand. You copied him with a small shake in your breath. He then quietly counted to four for you to hold your breath.

“Now release your hand as you exhale,” he guided. You copied his actions and watched his hand and you exhaled.

The both of you continued the breathing exercise for a moment. Finally, your head seemed to stop spinning; but there was still a lingering discomfort you couldn’t quite place.

You didn’t seem to notice your hand on your thigh had resumed its search for touch in the denim. Spencer did. He saw you using the sensation of your jeans as a way to self-regulate.

“Y/N, do I have your permission to touch you?” He asked softly.

You nodded your head as no words could escape your throat.

Spencer shuffled his chair closer to you and reached for the hand you still held in the air. He lowered your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He placed his other hand on his knee, open, waiting for you to reach out when you felt comfortable.

Almost immediately, the hand that had previously resided on your jeans now reached for his. He gave both your hands a gentle squeeze before rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. The corners of his lips turned up into a smile as he watched the last bit of overwhelm leave your body. He could practically see the weight being lifted off your shoulders.

You brought your gaze up to meet his. His eyes were so kind but also filled with worry. His pupils dilated from the low light in the room, at least that's what you figured.

“How’d you …”

You knew it was a dumb question. He was a profiler and a damn good one. But your brain still questioned how he knew exactly what you needed.

“Sensory overload occurs when your senses are taking in more information than your brain can process. When your brain becomes overstimulated from the input it translates to feelings of anxiety or extreme discomfort,” he explained. He was a bit worried about continuing as most people would brush off or ignore his long explanations.

Instead, he was met with your attention, waiting for him to continue. He then realized he never exactly answered your question.

“You kept rubbing your eyes, reading the same passage over and over again, zoning out, fidgeting, running your hands down your jeans, and … you kinda snapped at me.” His voice lowered towards the end of his statement.

Your eyes widened and eyebrows raised, “I’m so sorry,” you worriedly apologize.

“It’s okay,” he reassured softly as he gave your hands another gentle squeeze. “I know you were overwhelmed and probably felt out of control.”

A small smile spread on your face. “Thank you.”

He unconsciously matched your smile. “It’s no problem.”

“No really. You have no idea how much this helped,” you confessed.

He looked down and licked his lips while considering his response. “I get overstimulated from time to time. It happens a lot when the lights are too bright. I know it’s a stressful thing to experience, especially here at work.”

His eyes rose to meet yours. Your eyes always shined with kindness and warmth. He hoped he could provide that warmth and comfort for you.

“I want you to know I’ll always be here for you when you need it.”

Your eyes wrinkled from the smile on your face. Spencer couldn’t help but mirror your expression.

After a moment of silence, you realized you still had your hands in his. His eyes followed yours to your hands and his face became flushed. Your cheeks soon turned a shade of red as you both pulled your hands apart from each other.

You cleared your throat before speaking, “Thanks again.”

“You- you’re welcome,” he stuttered as he made his way back to his seat.

It took a moment to return to your work. Not because of the chaos outside the office or the overhead lights. Instead, your mind kept wandering to Spencer’s kind gesture and your hands in his.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, it seemed Spencer’s reading speed was decreasing. His eyes wouldn’t stop from wandering to the person across from him.

[roosterforme]

Go Big or Go Home | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Once your husband gets going, it's hard to reel him in again. Now that you've told everyone that you're pregnant, you realize he's always going to go a little over the top for you and the baby. But you let him get away with it, because nothing feels quite as important as the love he has for you.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight angst, pregnancy topics

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You sat in a lounge chair on your back patio, sipping some Gatorade in your oversized sunglasses and watching your sweaty husband doing yard work. He started out an hour ago with a shirt on, but he discarded that in favor of showing off his glistening torso for your entertainment. At least that's what you told yourself. 

"Roo! Come take a break!"

Bradley turned and looked at you as he wiped his brow with his forearm. "Sweetheart. No breaks. I want to get as much done as I can around here now so you don't have to worry about it later."

You sighed. He was going to wear himself out with projects leading up to his deployment. You loved that he wanted to leave you without a dripping faucet in the kitchen and without weeds in the backyard, but sending him off away in a few days if he wasn't well rested was going to spell disaster.

"If I need something done while you're away, I'll call Jake or Cam."

Bradley scoffed but dropped the rake he was using and headed your way in his low slung jeans. "I can't let another man do my yard work. That absolutely goes against guy code." He started to lean down for a kiss, and he smelled so good, you moaned before he even touched you. "Hey now," he said with a smirk, pausing a few inches from your lips. "I have an idea."

"Tell me," you whined.

His smirk grew. "Something that might successfully lure me away from my projects?"

"Yes, we can fuck," you told him immediately, but instead of kissing your lips, he chuckled and dropped to his knees next to your lounger and ran his nose along your shirt. 

"Hold that thought, because we will be doing that later." He nudged the shirt fabric up until his lips met the bare skin of your belly, kissing his new favorite spot on your body. "Hey, little Nugget," he whispered, and your heart melted as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair. "Think Mommy will go for our scheme?"

You laughed. "You're scheming with the baby? Already?"

"Oh yeah," he told you with a serious nod. "Here's what we're gonna do."

"This should be good," you muttered as he kissed you one more time before pulling your shirt back down.

"How about instead of chores, we spend the rest of the day shopping for baby stuff?"

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You were just barely into your second trimester, and it felt early to be buying too many things at this point, but the eager look on Bradley's face had you agreeing. "I'll let you pick out one thing."

His eyes lit up, and you should have known what was coming. "Let's make it five things."

"Bradley," you groaned, and he started kissing your lips in earnest until you giggled. "Fine! Three things! Final offer!"

"Sold."

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

"I love this store," Bradley said as he held your hand and walked around the enormous baby depot.

"You've only been here one time!" you reminded him. "And we were shopping for a gift for someone else's baby."

He recalled that day perfectly. It was when you and he both admitted you wanted kids, and he hadn't stopped thinking about expanding his family with you since then. "I still love it," he said, pulling you toward the baby clothes. He desperately wanted to buy his child their first outfit, but he didn't know what would be suitable. Something told him he'd know what he wanted when he saw it.

The main issue he was having right now was your libido. He'd skipped a shower in favor of coming right here, and somehow you seemed even worse than usual. Even more wound up. "You smell so good," you whispered, pressing yourself against him as soon as he stopped to look around. Even as he throbbed for you, he told himself he needed to stay on task.

"Baby Girl, I will let you do anything you want to me," he swore, and your eyes glittered. "Later. After I pick out my three things for the Nugget."

"Well, hurry up," you whispered, running your fingers low on his abs while he looked at some onesies. "I'm horny."

He kissed the top of your head and guided you along. "I know you are. I won't leave you hanging." And he wouldn't. He'd be gone soon, sent away to some undisclosed location for some undisclosed amount of time where he'd have no access to you or the Nugget. He'd give you everything you wanted and needed right now, but this little shopping trip was something for him. He needed this. There was always the fear in the back of his mind that he might not return. 

"These are cute sunglasses," you mused, still running one hand along his body. "Little aviators."

Bradley felt like his insides were going to melt as you held up the tiniest pair of sunglasses he'd ever seen in his life. "Holy shit," he muttered when you handed them to him. "These are fucking adorable, Sweetheart. Good find. Our baby is going to look so damn cool."

"What did I tell you about swearing so much?" you said as you rubbed your face on his shirt. Bradley knew you were a ticking time bomb at the moment. He needed to make his selections and get you out before you started to whine for him.

"I'll fucking behave," he replied, making you laugh. And that was when he saw it. The perfect onesie. His child needed to have it. He made a beeline toward the shelf and snatched it up as you followed behind him.

"That's cute!" you said, running your fingers along the airplane and the clouds that spelled out Aim for the Sky. The clothing sizes went by months, which was very confusing to him. Surely the baby wouldn't be growing that fast? Needing new clothing every few weeks?

"Just to be sure," he muttered, grabbing the onesie in several sizes. "Okay, that's item number one of three."

"Technically that looks like four items to me, Bradley. Why are you getting so many onesies?"

"In case the Nugget grows at super speeds. I'm going to want to take a million photos of this outfit."

When he gave you his saddest eyes, you groaned and said, "Fine. Nugget's first outfit has been acquired. Pick two more items, and we can go home and get in bed."

With a grin, he started to lead you around the store. He wanted to get the baby a toy, but he wasn't sure which would be the best. Jake had been telling him about everything he wanted to buy for Jeremiah, and some of it sounded fun, but once again, he wanted the Nugget to have something unique. One of a kind. Only the best shit for his kid.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed, thrusting the onesies and aviators into your hands and running to the end of the aisle. "That's it!" He was hitting the enormous box with his palm over and over again. "Look at this! It's perfect!"

"Roo, it's five hundred bucks, and the baby won't even be able to use it for a few years," you warned, but it was too late. He was already sliding the box from the shelf and carrying it to the front of the store. "Bradley!"

"It's one of my three items! Now help guide me. This thing is massive."

With great joy, he paid for the orange Bronco Power Wheels and carried the box out to his full sized blue Bronco and fit it in the back while you held the bag containing the onesies and sunglasses. "I am so afraid to ask what your third item is going to be," you said as he struggled to make the box fit. But he had an idea. He'd had an idea for ages. It was part of the reason he had been trying to clean up the backyard a little bit more and even out the soil next to the shed.

When he closed the tailgate, he kissed your forehead gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he said calmly as he buckled you in the passenger seat and leaned down to kiss your belly. "The Nugget and I know exactly what to get."

You rolled your eyes and then asked what he was scheming up now. You asked the entire way home what he was going to buy, and he was only able to finally distract you once he had his clothes off in the bedroom. "Don't worry about it, Baby Girl. Worry about the fact that you won't be able to walk straight in half an hour."

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

Bradley never told you what else he was going to buy, but later that night, you had the suspicion that it had already been purchased. You spent the evening with him out in the garage, sitting on his bench press and eating a bag of pretzels while he put the Power Wheels together on a tarp on the floor. 

"Can't leave the baby out," he muttered as he screwed the doors on. "Now we all have our own Bronco."

He looked adorable, his hair messy from how you'd had your fingers tangled in it, and the eager look on his face was something you'd desperately miss when he was gone. "The box says ages three to seven," you reminded him before you bit into a pretzel, but he just grunted in response. "And what if the Nugget doesn't like Broncos?" you asked just to tease him, earning a glare in response.

"The baby will have impeccable taste," he muttered, turning the page in the instruction booklet. "Broncos and hot sauce and airplanes."

You waited a few seconds until he looked very distracted, and then you softly asked, "What's the third thing you bought?"

He hummed as he located the set of screws he would need for the hood. "You'll see soon enough. It's being delivered tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Monday. He was leaving on Wednesday. "It's not something big that will need to be assembled like the Power Wheels, right?" He had the guiltiest expression on his face as he turned to look up at you. "Right?" you repeated. "Bradley!"

You got your answer the following morning when you were squeezing into your new uniform pants which were a size larger than your old ones. You were dreading the thought of having to start wearing a maternity uniform to work and went with new pants to buy yourself some time. You froze with your zipper halfway pulled up and called out to Bradley in the kitchen. "What's that sound?"

"Uh... it's the third thing for the Nugget being delivered," he replied, and you immediately headed for your front door and the repetitive beeping sound coming from outside. "Don't freak out," he said as he came up behind you as you wrenched the front door open. 

Bradley had already seemingly moved both Broncos to the street in anticipation of the forklift that was moving wooden pallets wrapped up in plastic onto the driveway. "Do I even want to know?" you whispered as the forklift backed up to scoop another pallet off of the truck that was parked in the middle of your street. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and let his hands rest on your bloated belly while he nuzzled your ear. "It's a thirty-seven piece jungle gym playset for the backyard."

"A thirty-seven piece...."

"The Nugget and I both really wanted it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as your dog plopped down next to your feet, and the three of you watched the forklift make several more trips up the driveway. "Don't you dare try to buy anything else right now. Do you understand me?"

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

Nothing says 'Bradley's child' quite like baby's first Bronco. And he's so precious, he's already built the thing. He's been daydreaming about the playset for long enough that it was bound to happen, too. Let's send him on this deployment and get him back home to his wifey and his Nugget. Stay tuned for more! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[kaznejis]

Tarnished, but so grand- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Part 1 / Masterlist / AO3

You flickered your eyes back to him then, finding him staring back at you; his mouth twisted and eyes forlorn. “You’re leaving?” He could only nod, still staring. You inched forward, shock pulsing upon you in waves, “What! Why?” Pause. “Is it because of-”  “Yes.” He said instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, tone breathy but muted. 

Word count: 5.7k

“I couldn’t believe it, Y/N, he kissed me! Scott kissed me!” 

You could only hum in response, staring into the dregs of your cereal bowl; the tepid milk and soggy remains of half-eaten cereal staring back at you. 

“-And it was so romantic, he pulled me away from the bonfire and then he said-” Jean spoke animatedly in the seat across from you, waving her arms and practically squealing with excitement as she recounted her own turn of events from the night before; the hangover gripping at the edges of your conscience and the guilt, oh the guilt, alongside the dread and horror and disgust rendering you useless; allowing you to only manage a small range of primal, ape-like grunts in response. 

Upon stumbling, dragging yourself up to your room the previous night- you had been able to do nothing but collapse into bed, tranquillity washing over the swell of your lips, the bruises upon your back and the tears that wet your cheeks. Waking up the following morning, however, had been a different story. First, you had combatted the grewling ache of your hangover; your head pounding and vision wiry as you squinted at the morning sun that blasted through the open window. It had taken you an embarrassing amount of time to reach your hand forward, intertwine the vines upon your windowsill with the silk of your curtains, and to pull. Once the issue of the sun was eradicated, then the realisation set in; the ball of dread that instantly expanded within your stomach and chest and heart- the shortness of breath that instantly set in, the memories of the previous night flooding back. At first, you chalked it up to a wayward dream, dreams about Erik were nothing new- they had practically facilitated themselves as an integral part of day-to-day life. But, as you woke, as you remembered, the indents upon your back became all too real- the angry, red marks from the press of the tree upon your back as you had- 

No, you had whispered aloud; clawing at the grainy sheets upon you and dragging a trembling hand down your face. No fucking way.  

Despite your resistance, despite your objections- it had happened. Nothing would erase that. The professor that you had grown to respect, to admire- had pressed you against a tree and practically demolished you; intertwined your tongue with his before leaving you cold, alone in the depths of the trees- their swaying, dark silhouettes humouring your tears. Your tears as he had left, stumbling backwards in the grass; his plaid shirt billowing around him like leaves in the wind. 

`’-Y/N? Y/N.” Jean clicked a finger in front of your face, immediately snapping you out of your reverie; leaving you blinking dazedly at your friend as she stared back at you with concern, “Are you okay? You disappeared on me there for a while.” 

You cleared your throat, cringing in disgust at the bowl of gloopy cereal you had practically been drooling into; removing the sodden spoon and pushing the plate to the side; you managed a plain smile at Jean, a shrug of the shoulders, “I’m fine, uh- just tired.” Your words were clumsy, abrasive; sentences slogging together as your tongue struggled to work through your own emotional turmoil. 

“Hungover, I bet.” Jean laughed, throwing her head back and allowing her hair to flow down her back, “You were so wasted.” 

“Says you,” You nudged her knuckle across the table, smirking as she pulled it back with feigned hurt; clutching at her hand as if it had been sliced, “As if you had gotten the courage to talk to Scott sober.” 

“Hey!” It was her turn to swat at you across the table now, “Actually- now that I come to think of it, where did you go last night? I checked your room on my way in and you weren’t there.” 

You stilled for a moment, your inhibitions freezing in horror as you stared at her; body half poised in defence as you had been avoiding her attacks, “Oh! I-” You stuttered, mind going blank for a long moment; this only spurred Jean onwards, exemplified through her sudden change in demeanour; the cock of her head, the furrow of her brow, and the way she leaned fully towards you. You could only shrug; allow an airy laugh as you looked everywhere but her eyes, “When I come to think of it, I can hardly even remember.” Jean leaned backwards then, crossing her arms; unimpressed, “Seriously, Jean! That’s how drunk I was-” 

To your relief, the bell sounded for the end of breakfast; though, it was a Saturday- with no obligations to attend to, Jean was free to follow you as she pleased. You used the dining hall's long benches to your advantage; speed walking down your respective side and disappearing into the swelling crowd of students attempting to leave. Ignoring Jean’s calls as they grew fainter. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t explain yourself to her; whilst your own guilt, regret was a prevalent, persevering factor- you felt the need to protect Erik, protect him from your wretched self. What would Jean have thought if you had told her of how your professor, the very same professor that answered her questions in class and graded her essays, had held you up against a tree and pressed his lips upon yours. What would she think of the way that you would live and die for the chance to taste him again, feel the cold palm of his hand flit higher upon your thigh, for any aggravating factors to disappear as he would finish what he had started within that iridescent alcove?

The rest of the weekend continued with that form of mindset; the lingering doubt that suffocated your mind. Any attempt, any semblance of completing your assignments remained fruitless. The curtain of nightfall began to close as the hallways bustled with student’s heading to their own rooms for the night. Abruptly you slammed your notebook shut, huffing as you moved to stand before your open window; a few stray groups were scattered upon the grass, namely Jean and Scott- cuddling beside the lake and giggling together. You moved away then, unable to watch any longer. You were happy for her, for them, of course you were; you just wished that your own Friday night endeavours had been as successful. 

Whilst they had been successful, as to say, you weren’t currently curled beneath the moon with Erik himself. 

That thought spurred you away from your room; needing a breath of fresh air, a moment to think. The route you took to the gardens led you directly through the classrooms, before you found yourself standing before Erik’s. The wooden plaque upon the door stated ‘Professor Lehnsherr’, you dragged a finger across the words; feeling the engravings upon your skin. Raising your hand to the handle, you were surprised to find it unlocked, though the room remained empty. 

His classroom was dark; the curtains drawn halfway, casting tepid shadows upon the empty desks covering his room. His own was swept clear of any belongings, any ownership; not a trinket or picture or memorabilia upon the oak surface. It has always been like that, you soothed yourself; not allowing yourself to take the empty desk as the red heron that it would be, had it been owned by anyone else. You knew that Erik lived in solitude, everyone did; when he wasn’t teaching, he was with Xavier- and if he wasn’t with Xavier, it was a token to his lonesome. You would find him, in those darker hours, seated at his desk, that empty desk, writing or planning or thinking. You had found admiration in his ability to condone silence; the comfort he drew from the blow of the wind and the subsequent flutter of his curtains. He had told you so, months before, of the comforts he found in the quiet.

“Years on the run,” He had chuckled, watching you perched upon the edge of his desk, legs swinging idly, “Makes you admire the finer things.” 

As you sat alone later that night, thinking of the unusual dark of his classroom and the absence of his presence within the house; you thought about how maybe, just maybe, you were one of those ‘finer things’. You are always there, he had gasped into the night; into the very air you too exhaled upon. My horrible, wretched thoughts. But how could they be so? Did he see the way he had mouthed upon your neck, curling his fingers into the hem of your skirt, so close to that sweet spot; as wretched? Did he see the way you had succumbed to his every command, every lesson, as wretched? A white rabbit, with the rosy pink belly, walking straight into the jaws of the wolf. The girl who can control nature, bend ivy at her will and grow petals in the palm of her hand, and the big bad Magneto. 

You didn’t see it that way. He was kind; kind even before your lips had connected, even before he had spilled every morsel of his thoughts and dreams. His own reluctance showed that; the disgust he projected towards his very own feelings, the things that sets him apart; makes him human. Abhorrently, dejectedly; his own kindness shone in his supposed rejection of you. In leaving you in that forest, available to the beasts and curling claws of nightfall; he had been saving you from himself. 

You knew in that moment, seated upon your own bed; that you needed to see him. Needed to tell him that you knew, you understood him. You felt the ivy of your touch entangle upon the intricacies of his mind like no one else ever could. So, with that, you marched from the room; mindless to the thin pyjamas that you adorned, mindless of your own lack of lightsource within the dark hallway. The bare skin of your feet peeling from the marble floors as you ran- passed the student dormitories, passed the common area, passed the classroom and finally, into the teacher’s suite. 

You slowed then, lowering your pace to a creep as you curled your fingers upon the edge of the hallway; peering into the darkness of the corridor. Despite your position as one of the older students within the school, you were still entering restricted territory. It had practically been drilled into you on day one by Mystique; never enter the teacher’s suite. To your surprise, it didn’t look much different to that of the very hallway you resided in; the same high ceilings, the same arrangement of doors; in fact, it was entirely identical. The mystification you felt towards the teachers lessened somewhat- this was where they lived, where they slept, a sacrifice made in order to be at the beck and call of the students; young mutants just like they had once been. 

The only problem; you had no idea which room belonged to Erik. 

Though, before you could dwell upon the thought; a strip of light appeared as a door opened down the hallway- you gasped, flattening your chest against the wall as you continued to peer around the corner. 

‘-Please you can’t do this.” A voice, Mystique’s, sounded; she seemed upset, angry. She stepped into the hallway in her mutant form, arms crossed and stance defensive in front of the open door. 

Another voice sounded then, stressed and upset; the sound of it visibly weakening Mystique’s resolve, as her arms unfolded, defeated. “I’m sorry Raven, but I have to.” 

“Please, Erik, why?” You realised with deafening clarity, that the other voice had belonged to Erik, “Did something happen? We can talk through this. All of us, I can call a meeting right-” 

“Raven.” Erik snapped, appearing in the hallway; his back was straight as he stared down at her; fists clenched around a cardboard box as he attempted to pass. Before he could so successfully, she snatched the box from his hold, dropping it onto the floor; its contents spilling upon the hardwood floors, “What-” Then she was gone, storming down the hallway and into a door at the end of it- the slam that followed was violent; jostling the very foundations of the walls you leant upon. You could only watch as Erik sighed, scratching at the base of his skull before kneeling; his working boots facing you as he began to clean up the mess. Once he finished, he lifted the box once again; but instead of taking it where he had initially intended, he turned and returned to his room, allowing the door to close behind him. 

In that moment, curiosity got the better of you; curiosity towards the argument that had commenced, curiosity as to why he had sounded so upset. Before you could think twice, you were in front of his door, fist raised; you allowed yourself a short moment of clarity, a split second of what the hell am I doing? Before you knocked your fist against the wood. Erik’s movements within the room paused; you breathed, suddenly all too aware of how little clothing you were wearing- the chequered pyjama shorts and matching lacy tank top. Crossing your arms, you could only stare wide eyed as the door swung open. 

“Raven, please-” Erik began, though he froze the moment his eyes landed upon you, the moment his eyes caught sight of your exposed legs and pursed lips. He swallowed, the sound loud and grating in the hallway- for a moment, he was speechless; seemingly taking you in as you stared right back at him. Though, the moment ended as quickly as it began; his face dropped as he grabbed you by the shoulders; pulling you into the room before closing the door behind you, ensuring that it was locked. He turned to you then, shoulders rising as he visibly struggled to find the words, eventually; he did, voice hushed, urgent. “What- what are you doing here, Y/N?” 

Gulping, you found yourself unable to answer his question in the rise of his anger and the sight of the strip of bare skin where his tank top and loose pants didn’t quite meet. Using your inability to speak as an excuse to move your eyes away from him, you surveyed the room. The room was beautiful; intricately decorated with deep, royal hues of red and black, long pillars lining each corner of the room and a large master bed placed directly at the centre. But, what truly drew your eyes were the boxes splayed throughout the room; some still in their flattened form, some filled with various belongings. You flickered your eyes back to him then, finding him staring back at you; his mouth twisted and eyes forlorn. “You’re leaving?” He could only nod, still staring. You inched forward, shock pulsing upon you in waves, “What! Why?” Pause. “Is it because of-” 

“Yes.” He said instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, tone breathy but muted. 

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, tears filling your eyes as you collapsed upon his bed; making yourself as small as possible upon the sheets, “I shouldn’t have done that- In fact, I should be the one to leave.” You stood, nodding determinedly at him, “I’ll go and see Charles tomorrow; I was the one that kissed you, I should-” 

“No.” His tone sliced through your train of thought, rendering you silent. His chest was heaving with breaths, bracing up and down beneath the thin linen of his tank top. He had the beginning of dark circles forming beneath his wrinkled eyes; the foundational period of a lack of sleep. Gulping, you waited for him to continue, the urge to reach forward and run a finger through the light stubble upon his jaw ever-prevalent. He began to speak before pausing, his gaze earnest; broken and open for you to feast upon, cast your worst abjections upon him. “What I did was wrong, Y/N-” 

“What you did?” Shaking your head, you paced before him, floods of dread filled your gut; dread at the implications he sported and the fear within his voice, “I don’t know what you think that was Erik, but-” 

“Y/N, I am your professor.” His tone was final, serious; his chest raised and fell rapidly as he visibly tightened his jaw, his teeth grinding within his mouth. “I teach you history three days a week, I grade your papers and I answer any questions you may have; that is my duty.”

“What does duty have to do with-” 

“Everything,” His voice had risen; trembling upon the line of full blown shouting. Shaking his head, he splayed a hand over his mouth; turning away from you slightly- you could only watch, hands shaking, as he visibly filed through his own thoughts, “I was allowed here to protect you, people like you. To protect people like me; not to expose them to my perverted inhibitions-” 

“Perverted?” You cackled, genuinely throwing your head backwards; the residual tension of humour and horror rising within your throat, “Erik, I am a completely willing adult-” 

He shook his head determinedly, “You are my student.” Shrugging, you cast your arms wide, wild eyes entirely unbridled as you stared at him; the fire within your soul could not be snuffed, “Well, I won’t be soon. It’s almost summer and then my training is up; I’m free to do as I please.” You were visibly angered, voice clipped and cheeks blazing with heat, “Don’t leave because of me.” Emotions dimmed, you crossed your arms; swallowing, tongue between your teeth, “If anything, I’m just some silly little girl.” 

Sighing, he walked to his bed and sat upon it. His back was hunched; arms long in his lap as he refused to meet your eyes. So deep in his own state of emotional turmoil, your own internal vitriol cast no objection upon him. He seemed to be waiting; waiting for you to shout, to scream, to curse him for defiling your so-called perpetual innocence. You beat the rise of his voice with your own, “I’m not angry at you, Erik.”

He froze, his form stilling; arms encased within his lap as his eyes widened, his voice was low when he spoke, the syllables long and pained, “What?” 

Shaking your head, you tightened your jaw; willing your eyes to stop filling with tears, emotion overtaking you at his silence, his inability to just understand. You repeat yourself once again, “I’m not angry at you,” 

“Y/N, I don’t understand-” 

“I wanted it,” Swallowing, you faced your feelings; your doubts, head on, “I wanted all of it, just as much as you did.” 

He shook his head, standing and stepping forward; his hands spasmed at his side, desperate to reach out, to touch, “As I do,” You shook your head, confused, “Just as much as I do Y/N.” 

“Erik-” 

“We can’t tell anyone,” He was whispering now, a hand raised to brush the hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear, “Not until I’m no longer your professor.” A beat. “Do you understand me?” 

You nodded, immediate and fast, “Of course.” Ever obedient to his every command. 

“Good,” He gave you a closed-lipped smile, his cheeks crinkling, “Good girl.” 

Requiring no further confirmation, you leaped forward; gripping his face as you encased his lips with your own. As they met, he gasped your name like a prayer; the syllables sacred and protected, gasped in tandem with the beat of his heart and the rush of his own blood. The deafening waves of pleasure took power to your conscience as he walked the two of you backwards; kicking stray boxes from his path as the two of you crashed upon his bedsheets- the harsh lines of his body pressing you down, down into the velvet of his bedspread as you clawed at his shoulders. Keeping his lips upon yours, he moved a hand upwards, gripping at the hair at the base of your neck; he pulled then, your head tilting backward as he bit at the skin of your lip; devouring your mouth within his own and licking at the blood that he drew. You bent immediately to his will. 

Allowing your eyes to slip shut, pleasure and shock and desire admonishing any sense of awareness; you felt as he began to move downwards, his lips trailing upon the curve of your neck, the bend of your jaw and the skin beside your ear. His fingers danced at the edge of your shirt; inching it, slowly and carefully, upwards towards your armpits. You took it upon yourself to push him backwards, raising slightly only to reach down and pull the shirt off, over your head and onto his bedroom floor. You could only blink as his eyes caught upon the bare skin of your breasts that had laid beneath the singular layer, could only blink as he trailed their outline with his fingertips before trailing them further downwards, to the waistline of your pyjama pants. He stopped then, eyes raising to your own; past the rapid rise and fall of your burning chest, “Can I?”

Nodding hastily, you dragged a hand through his hair, watching as he manoeuvred both your pants and underwear over your hips and down your legs in one go, “Almost died when I saw these little shorts.” He practically sighed the words out, pressing a kiss to your upper thigh as he pulled the material over your knees. 

There, you laid completely naked beneath his entirely clothed form. The predetermined power dynamic existing between you was ever prevalent; but in that moment, you felt like the powerful one- empowered by the way his throat bobbed and eyes glistened at the expanse of your skin, by the way his hands lifted your thighs and the ghost of his breath warming the mound between them. Whimpering at the sensation, at the feeling of being watched by him; the burn of his gaze- you pleaded, begged with your own eyes, begging him to do something. Nodding, rubbing a soothing hand upon your thigh, he leant forward, testing the waters- planting a kiss upon your clit. You reacted instantly, jolting and tightening the hand within his hair; you felt him grin against the skin of your pussy, his breath releasing in chuffs. Then, he moved; dragging his tongue through your folds, the sensation lighting a fire within you as you collapsed backwards against the sheets; writhing, hand still secured within his hair as you pulled. 

It felt like hours, years, mere minutes as he lapped at you; his tongue making sinful, disgusting noises against you as his hands gripped at your hips; securing you down upon the bed as you attempted to writhe beneath the hold of his pleasure. Panting, your hair stuck to the damp skin of your lips as you threw your head to the side; finding purchase anywhere you could- you felt your orgasm begin to build, the tingling sensation burning within your abdomen, spreading to the hilt like wildfire. This wasn’t like when you would touch yourself to the thought of him, beneath your duvet; head held firmly to your pillow- this was free, unadulterated pleasure; your climax reaching faster than you could anticipate. 

Through the haze within your mind, through the scratch of your fingers upon his scalp; you found purchase to the last string of your own sentient conscience, “Erik, wait-’ He halted instantly, pulling back; his hair pointing in a number of directions and mouth ajar; he looked horrified, terrified at the thought of hurting you. Laughing, you shook your head; reaching forward to run a finger over his swollen red lips; you snorted, instantly spitting out an apology, “Sorry, I’m sorry I just-” Your voice was awash with humour as you spoke, grinning down at him, “I- I was going to cum.” 

“Ah,” He replied slowly; nodding as he scratched at the base of his head; his gaze was shy from beneath his eyelashes. 

You couldn’t wipe the grin from your face as you watched him, reaching forward to pull him upwards until he faced you directly, as the cotton of his tank top brushed against the skin of your breasts; you realised with stark clarity that he was still fully dressed. With a glance downwards, you spoke, “I think you need to match me here.” 

Cocking an eyebrow, he tilted his face; smirking down at you as he moved a hand to dissect the hair from your face and lips, “Do I now?” 

“Yes, I think so.” Nodding, you dragged the strap of his top from his shoulders with your pointer finger; tracing the wiry muscles of his bare arms propped above you as you did so. He rose then, grinning at your dejected moan as he moved to pull the top over his head; exposing the expanse of his chest; small, pink nipples and dusty hair painting a trail down his naval. His form was muscular yet thin; the outlines of muscles existent like ivy wrapped around his biceps, strong yet undefined. You walked two fingers upon his naval, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants as you smiled toothily up at him; he rolled his eyes before pulling down his pants, allowing his cock to spring free. 

You spent a long moment willing your eyes not to widen; fearful of breaking the finely held thread of tension- his dick was, what Jean would describe as, ‘Boyfriend Material’. You hadn’t understood the term when she’d said it during your recent trip to the cinema, shaking your head as she betted that Scott ‘definitely had a boyfriend material dick’. When you had tried to discuss what Erik’s dick might be like; she had simply gagged, waving her hand exasperatedly as she begged you not to discuss such a thing. 

But you definitely understood what she had meant now. 

“Hey,” A voice said in front of your face, Erik, in the midst of your personal vignette- Erik had lowered himself back down; arms braced above your head as he smiled down at you, head quirked to the side. Grinning back, you wrapped your arms around the base of his neck before bringing him down into a soft, slow kiss. It was the slowest kiss the two of you had experienced so far; not fueled by abrupt pleasure or the weight of confession- the two of you simply existed, within his bedroom with the flat-packed boxes; upon his silk sheets. You felt it as he breathed you in, inhaling heavily through his nose as he continued to move his lips upon yours. When he pulled back to allow you to breathe, his mouth was visibly curved downwards with emotion; his thumb traced the skin of your jaw before tracing the skin of your lips, tracing where his own had just been.

His lips quivered; pink and wet with the sheen of your combined saliva, “Have you ever-?” He questioned, his eyes flickering downwards; you shook your head meekly, swallowing heavily as he nodded; a sweet, sincere smile curling the edges of his mouth, “Okay, darling.” He cooed, reaching upwards to tuck your hair behind your ear, smooth a hand over the red of your cheeks. 

You found your voice, watching him through the flutter of your eyelashes; his bare skin and ruffled hair- the parts of him that you had never seen before, that he was allowing you to see, “Never got the chance, having superpowers and all.” 

He laughed, nodding down at you, eyes glistening with adornment, almost as if he were in love. Though his face turned serious then, mouth straightening and eyebrows creasing as he looked upon you, “You can say no, sweetheart. We don’t have to-” 

“I want to,” You cut in, nodding determinedly up at him; reaching up to smooth out the crease of his brow, “More than anything.” 

He kissed you then; his hand instantly moving to cup your jaw, the other moving to caress the skin of your thigh; procuring a sickly, sweet burn that caused you to pant against his lips; his own instantly curling into a smirk as he felt you do so. As his fingers met the hilt of your thigh, sliding between the heat above; he lowered his head until he came face-to-face with the pebbling skin of your nipple before placing his tongue upon it, twirling and flicking the bud as you gasped, back arching against the damp sheets below. You couldn’t help the almost pitiful moan of his name that left your lips, your eyes squeezed closed and head thrown back against his pillow; you felt him grin against the underside of your breast, his ministrations against the juxtaposing cold of your breast and the warmth of your clit causing deafening sensations to ricochet within your stomach. The twists of pleasure allowing only whispers of his name within your mind. 

Unable to do anything but lay there, you grit your teeth as he slid a finger into your heat; the length of it procuring a pinching pain as you winced. Pausing, he stroked the skin of your thigh; pressing a kiss there as he watched your face for any further signs of pain, “Tell me if it hurts too much.” He spoke into the skin of your thigh, you nodded down at him, granting a reassuring smile as he turned back to watch his hand- pushing the finger deeper and swiping at your clit as he did so. Soon, the pinching pain turned to pleasure; your muscles loosening as you realised that this, actually, felt good. Soon you were a moaning mess within his hands; three fingers within you as he bent you to his will with the curve of his dexterous hands. Those hands that weld so much power, able to inflict so much pleasure.

Eventually, you grasped at his shoulders; panting and moaning as your nails pressed crescent moons into the skin there, “Please,” You moaned, eyes watering as you begged him, “Please I need more.”

He rose instantly, cock hard and aloft as he moved to his bedside table; retrieving a condom from the depths of it. He rolled it upon himself, before propping himself above you once again, his cock held at your entrance. He rubbed it between your folds, once, twice; his condom instantly covered in your own juices, before he looked up at you; one step away from the finale. “Sweetheart, are you sure?” 

Nodding, you bared yourself down upon him; lifting your legs to brace his hips. He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised and chin lowered as he watched you; visibly demanding verbal confirmation, “Yes, Erik, yes. I’m ready.” 

Letting out a shuddering moan, he needed no further confirmation; inserting himself within the space he had enlarged- eyes instantly rolling back as he did so. He was not forceful as he inched himself inwards; his eyes did not stray from your face, searching for any sign of pain or resignation. You did not show any, mouth ajar and eyes wide as you moaned his name; legs tightening around the bracket of his hips. Upon reaching the hilt, he lowered himself to your chest; burying his face into the curve of your neck, the skin instantly growing wet with the humidity of his moans and your own sweat. “Is this okay?” He whispered, mouthing at your neck as he remained completely still; you nodded before shifting your hips, smiling as you felt the rush of breath against your neck. He instantly began to move; sinking home and immediately abandoning it as he methodically pushed in and out; his abdomen grinding against your clit. 

“Beautiful, so beautiful,” The sounds were more visceral moans than words as his hands steadfastly clutched your hips; procuring sounds that you didn’t believe to be possible to fall from your mouth; garbling mixtures of his name and indiscernible pleading. The sweat congregating between your bodies was slick and hot; the fibres of your beings connected at every last point as you moved together. You knew for a fact that you looked sincerely debauched; but with Erik whispering and moaning into your ear; you could hardly register a second thought as you sunk into the pleasure he allowed you. He too looked a mess when he moved from your neck; hair damp at the ends from sweat and eyes scrunched shut; mouth falling open as he seemed entirely lost to the verisimilitude of pleasure. He had never looked so beautiful, so unruly- the strict, formal clothing a distant memory as he moaned and whimpered and gasped above you. 

You felt your high reaching slowly as his abdomen brushed against your clit; the methodical movements torturous in their sporadicity. However, the moment he moved his thumb to your clit; you knew the end was near. He moved it in time with his thrusts, causing your mind to go blissfully blank as you could think of nothing but your fast approaching orgasm. The noise that left you as you came was barely a sound at all; head thrown back and eyes closed as your breaths crackled. You felt it as Erik came with you, hips stuttering and pulsing as he groaned for a long moment above you. He collapsed upon you then, the both of you panting together as you laid there in the pool of sweat formed upon his sheets. 

A large hand cupped the back of your head as you came back to yourself, a low voice humming praise and compliments into your ear as you came to. The cold air hit you for a moment as Erik pulled himself out of you, disposing of the condom before lifting you into his arms; pulling back the duvet and depositing you into the warmth of his bed. 

Sleep tinged the edges of your vision; though you couldn’t get one thought out of your mind, “Please don’t leave.” The words were barely a whisper, spoken into the darkness of his bedroom. 

Erik shuffled beside you, sighing before wrapping you up in his arms; comforting and secure “I won’t leave you sweetheart, not again.”