#i had so much more planned. but alas. college.

[wyvernity]

sss day my favorite national holiday WOOOOHHHH

bonus

[sytoran]

ARSONIST'S LULLABYE

kinktober day 011 | cheerleader!natasha x player!reader

"don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash" — arsonist’s lullabye, hozier

summary. natasha gets more attached than expected after a one-night-stand with the college's infamous player, both on the field and with the ladies. however, she's always been good at getting what she wants.

rating 18+ | word count 7438 (shittt)

note. natasha is 18 and y/n is 19, y/n is described to be masc-representing (eg. cropped hair, compression tee + grey sweats, tattoos, piercings)

note ii. please please please please take your time to read it, you don't understand how long i've spent pondering over every intricacy in this fic.

note iii. drinking game: take a shot every time i say 'don't fall for the player'

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

Don’t fall for the player.

This was a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.

Students in this renowned college came from all walks of life — from children of billionaires to self-made achievers, from prodigal minds to brilliant brains. One thing stood for certain, though, and that was the infamous Y/N L/N.

It was a rumour, tried and true, that every single girl — regardless of their sexuality, physical appearance, or social status — would all eventually fall under the spell of the school’s “player”. Try as they might, victim after victim fell helplessly for an effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.

The chase never lasted long, a one-sided apex predator hunt. Once you had your eyes set on someone, there was simply no escaping the undeniable fact that the following morning, that girl would wake up in bed next to you.

Problem was, you had this rule, written in stone: Never sleep with a girl more than once.

Alas came the cruel and vicious cycle of girls falling under your spell within milliseconds, only to have their heart shattered within the next twenty-four hours. Sometimes even less.

Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) The wiser ones kept a distance, but either way, one fact stood true, the moment one stepped into Avengers Institution.

Don’t fall for the player.

Little did you know, soon would arrive a thorn in your plans, an unwanted distraction, your ultimate downfall.

All due to an equally irresistible girl by the name of Natasha Romanoff.

***

“You’re fuckin’ impressive for a freshman, Natasha,” Pepper whistles, clapping her on the back. “Consider yourself a member of the Avengers Institution’s cheerleading squad.”

Natasha nods breathlessly, dropping the pom-poms onto the ground. She had just completed a complicated routine for the cheerleading tryouts, a rigorous one with flips and twirls that required pristine balance.

“I guess that’s expected from a girl who was with the Red Room,” Sharon adds, somewhat snidely. She was another freshman trying out for the cheerleading squad, with a snake-like smile that was coated with too much venom to convey any sort of genuineness.

Natasha returns the smile blankly, false emotions overtaking her face like second nature — propriety, expectations, rectitude. She knew what those words meant, when they put emphasis on the Red Room.

The Red Room, in question, was one of the highest-class organisations internationally that trained talented young female cheerleaders. With a near overly-daunting curriculum, payment fees so impossibly high, and only the most renowned instructors, the Red Room was essentially associated with filthy rich wealth and spoiled privileged kids.

And such comes the tragedy of warped views on capitalism and the unfairness of the world. Sharon leans next to Natasha’s ear in the false pretence of picking something up, but her lips move dangerously swiftly and whisper, “Daddy’s money lets you get everything you want, hm?”

It only takes a second, and then the faux-innocent perpetrator briskly moves away as if nothing had occurred. Natasha stands still, the gripe washing over her back like a cold shower. She steels her shoulders, refusing to be provoked. It wasn’t her fault she’d been born with a silver-studded spoon in her mouth.

Shrugging off the strange looks some of the other girls give her, Natasha hides her annoyance by fiddling with her short skirt. Alongside college came the novelty of less-strict clothing etiquette, and that resulted in the most miniscule cheerleading skirts Natasha had ever worn in her life.

“Ready on the count of three,” Carol announces, tapping her clipboard with a ballpoint pen, surveying the expanse of the wide field.

It wasn’t Natasha’s fault she simply got everything she wanted.

“One.”

An invisible force of magnetism pulls Natasha’s gaze to the bleachers above the field, unyielding and unstoppable. There stands a tall and dark figure in a relaxed position, looking directly at her with piercing eyes. A shiver of anticipation sweeps through the air, and Natasha feels goosebumps rise on her skin.

“Two.”

Aloof charisma exudes from the person’s very presence, so compelling and captivating that it takes Natasha a moment to realise that there’s another girl standing next to the enigmatic soul. She’s chatting animatedly, under a false belief that she’s got your attention, but Natasha knows better.

Her eyes travel over the person’s sculpted figure clad in a leather jacket, tacit confidence written in your lazy smirk and composed posture. Electricity erupts in Natasha’s bloodstream, sending shockwaves coursing through her mindwires, forcing her to look back up to your alluring, forsaken eyes.

“Three.”

Natasha’s body moves mechanically, practised and poised. The rhythm thrumming from the portable speaker seeps into her practised muscles without her brain actually registering it, still reeling from the sheer impact of you.

If there was a fracture in her composure, if her routine was ever-so-slightly off, if her legs trembled more than it normally would’ve, Natasha would blame you.

Natasha would blame you and your stupid smirk, your silly leather jacket, your sickeningly magnetic allure. How you made her feel unstoppable with that come-hither gaze, then left her so low when your eyes inevitably left her.

And suddenly, like a golden key slotting into place, the words Natasha had heard whispered in the hallways finally made sense. The coveted prayer that could only be spoken under hushed tones and divine lips.

Don’t fall for the player.

When Natasha finishes the series of tumbles that ignites impressed cheers from the senior cheerleaders, she lifts her lowered eyes back to the bleachers.

Only to find your lips locked with the blonde girl from before, your hands creeping dangerously low on her back. You move like a predator python, the silver piercings in your ears glinting in the light with every of your calculated moves.

A burning feeling courses through Natasha’s veins, like an ugly green monster unfurling gradually, indescribable anger making her jaw tick.

Don’t fall for the player? Well, now that just sounded like a challenge.

***

Natasha makes her way through the crowd of students filing out from the lecture hall. The chatter fades to a background buzz in her ears as she beelines towards a group of more bearable folks.

“No, they’re a sophomore,” Wanda explained, leaning against the locker door.

“Who’re we talking about?” Natasha intercepts with a curious gaze, slinging an arm around Clint lackadaisically. Professor Banner’s lectures were highly educational, but he tended to drone on a little, and she could feel the rising boredom making its slow crescendo into the back of her mind.

Clint raises his eyebrows amusedly, then lowers his voice in humorous dramatisation. “The player.”

Natasha’s face flashes in recognition at your title. Several things flit across her mind in rapid succession — a fetching character, a lofty smirk, and a pretty girl hanging off a forearm.

“So, this uh… What’s her name?” Natasha tries to ask subtly, faking an expression of indifference. Clint, as always, side-eyes her with a playfully accusatory glance. Natasha shrugs with an odd feeling of guilt.

“Well, I’m a sophomore too, so I do have the guilty pleasure of knowing Y/N L/N,” Wanda said with a bit of a grin.

“Knows her in more ways than one!” Sam cackles, ducking as Wanda swipes at him.

Natasha feels that burning feeling rising in her chest again, and perhaps it was due to the knowledge that someone else had experienced being in bed with you — which was arguably silly, because of course you slept with plenty of women, but that didn’t quell her growing unease.

“Was the sex really that good?” Clint asks bluntly, folding his arms as he leans against the locker next to Darcy. Natasha chokes on air.

Wanda only raises an eyebrow, as if to question the poor boy of his doubts of your sexual prowess. Her knowing smirk told a thousand tales, of your sentient being seemingly reincarnated from a Goddess of Sex, of your mighty skillset of lust, the ultimate sapphic enigma.

“You tryna pull a lesbian, birdboy?” Natasha asks dryly, nudging Clint in the rib. The jibe doesn’t even give her that satisfaction. Thinking about you again had unnerved her very skin, causing clammy hands and a dry mouth.

“She leaves all the girls the morning after, though, so don’t get your hopes up,” Wanda sighs wistfully, waving her hand in the air as if she prophesied of a legend. “It’s a one-night-wonder. Kind of like an eclipse. Only happens once, but when it does, it’s really astronomical.”

Natasha flexes her fingers to get her blood flowing. All this talk about your specialised skillset in bed was making her heart flutter, in the best way possible, but maybe that per se was the worst thing possible.

Because she might acknowledge that you were attractive, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to sleep with you, right?

“And that’s why it's a common tongue around here,” Wanda concludes. “Don’t fall for the player. Simple as that.”

On cue, the noise in the hallway comically fades to silence. The gathered crowds of students make way for a quickly striding figure, clad in the same dark clothing Natasha thought about day and night.

Crossing the hallway with an easy purpose and confident composure, you walk past girls who could be seen swooning. Your gaze slides over them casually, sending small smiles here and there but never really quite focusing.

Until your eyes meet Natasha’s, of course. Like a love scene straight out of a drama, your composure cracks fractionally, and your loose confidence is subverted. It only takes a second before your persona snaps back into place.

“Hey, Natasha,” A smooth voice spills out from your angel-crafted lips. Your voice runs over her weak-willed skin, suddenly so vulnerable in your presence, and then you’re gone.

Natasha stills in place, staring after your disappearing figure. Your two words had left such a searing imprint into the front of her mind that it was honestly concerning. The chatter rises again, as if you were never there.

“Looks like you’re Y/N’s next conquest,” Wanda comments, mildly impressed. “Good luck, my friend. Just remember, don’t fall for the player.”

***

Why on earth there was a dorm party on the second day of school was a question that would forever remain unanswered.

Perhaps the adolescent spirit was the root cause of it, free and tameless and reckless, or maybe it was the temptation of alcohol and attractive folks, intoxicating and thrilling.

Either way, Natasha was here for a good time, not a long time.

Her short midnight dress flounces as she makes her way over to the partially occupied couch, the rather risky slit making its way up her thigh to reveal awfully beddable skin.

“Hey, babe!” Wanda calls enthusiastically, waving her over. There’s a Matrix movie playing on the screen, Natasha isn’t clear of which one, and there are students sprawled over the couch, the floor, and on each other.

She ends up playing a game of truth or dare with strangers, driven by warm bodies and the repetitive encouragement to indulge in a little bit of ‘fun’.

“Truth!” Darcy yells drunkenly, almost crushing her red solo cup of cheap alcohol.

“Jeez, woman,” Carol mutters, sighing at the tipsy girl’s antics. “So, truth— ever had a threesome?”

A bunch of ‘ooh’s wave like a ripple through the huddle of students, but Darcy answers with surprisingly quick coherence for a woman on her sixth cup of beer. “Hell yeah,” she drawls. “Y/N and Jane. Best night of my fuckin’ life.”

Natasha feels that wildly uncomfortable feeling of butterflies fluttering — no, thrashing, around in her stomach. It’s absolutely ridiculous that she’s so easily unsettled by you.

Said Jane Foster flushes in her seat, clearly embarrassed at having her sex life exposed. She waves a hand, trying to quiet down the growing hoots and whistles. “I mean, is it really that surprising, guys? I’m definitely not the only one! Okay, jerks, who else has laid with the famed Y/N L/N?”

Immediately, all eleven women in the dorm room have their hands raised. Well, all except Natasha, that is.

“Oh, she’s a free woman!” Valkyrie yells out, pumping her fist, and the crowd of women let out victorious cheers. “Our last standing soldier!”

Natasha smiles awkwardly in the limelight of all these older students, the strangling sensation in her gut growing stronger.

Seriously? ‘The Player’ has already slept with all these pretty girls in her second year? I would never sleep with someone who treats sex so meaninglessly…

Natasha refocuses on the game, dispelling all her thoughts that seemed to constantly circulate around you. In the bleachers, in the hallway, and now in a dorm party…

So why is Y/N L/N a muse in my mind? Why is she so inescapable?

After about six rounds of revealing shameful truths and accepting rather pointless dares, Natasha’s ready to ditch the scene altogether.

She’s barely touched any alcohol, but it was honestly a shame that her imagination was still so lucid. Getting some of that cheap beer into her system would probably help her to relax quicker, and to stop thinking about you.

“Hey, uh,” she whispers to Wanda. The older girl pulls her gaze away from the current life of the party to regard Natasha with a drunken smile.

“What’s up, Nat?” Wanda drawls, sprawling forward a little too close for comfort. Natasha cringes at her beer-tinted breath. Wanda murmurs softly, “Hey, you got a lil somethin’ in your eye. Looks like a little cloud… Oh, that’s just the light. Silly me, silly–”

“Wanda, I’m gonna head back now. Don’t worry about me,” Natasha says, slightly impatiently but affectionate nonetheless, patting Wanda’s head.

“Awh, okay,” Wanda responds drunkenly, breaking off into a little giggle as Natasha gets up. “Hey, Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fall for the player, yeah?” Wanda asks with an innocent smile, but her eyes are reminiscent of a ghost doing its last haunting. Then Wanda’s gone, gone with the wind, her attention lost to the exhilarating game of truth and dare.

There’s a moment of quiet in Natasha’s mind, save for the explicit Nicki Minaj song playing in the background with lyrics that would make a stripper blush.

She had heard that simple statement all too many times. Almost like she was meant to hear it. Like it was a premonition, a foreshadowing.

With the odd feeling of being defenceless, Natasha makes a beeline for the door. She’s had enough of silly conservations and awful thoughts; conversations that encircled around the subject of The Player, and awful thoughts of hers that always ended up being about you.

However, a shining bottle of cheap alcohol catches Natasha’s attention from the makeshift bartending station, essentially a kitchen counter. “Wouldn’t hurt, I guess,” she mutters under her breath, reaching out to grab a bottle for herself.

“Ah, that beer’s shite. The good one’s in the cupboard.”

Embarrassingly startled by the familiar smooth voice that greets her, Natasha jumps in her own skin. You again, she thinks with such indignation. What kind of sheer audacity did you have to approach her, after you were making out with another girl just the other day–

All coherent thoughts left Natasha’s mind when her eyes rake over your short-sleeve compression shirt that clung to your abdomen and arms like a vacuum-sealed package. Paired with grey sweats, it was such a beguiling mixture of taut muscles and casual wear that had Natasha growing hotter under her skin.

“I guess it’s alright for me to assume I’ve chosen the right attire for today,” you say, folding your arms in a little bit of satisfaction. That has Natasha staring at the black tattoos that decorate your thick forearms, and she’s half-crazed by the alluring sight.

Perhaps you’re showing off a little more than you normally would, but the girl standing before you was one that had invaded your mind for days on end, which was entirely uncharacteristic of your constantly horny brain.

“Can I ask you a question?” Natasha asks snarkily, returning your confidence with her very own crossed arms. Your eyes don’t miss the way her awfully kissable lips form the words on her tongue, and you certainly don’t miss the way her crossed arms push up her cleavage.

You lick your lips imperceptibly, and you notice the way Natasha’s eyes follow the movement with a hawk-like gaze. “Go ahead, sweetheart,” you respond easily, taking a single step closer to the object of your desires.

Natasha scoffs at the pet name, but you can see your close proximity subverts her composure in the slightest. Unable to keep your hands to yourself, you reach out to place your hands on her altar-like hips. She bristles under your touch, but she doesn’t move.

“Why’re you so fucking arrogant?” Natasha finally asks, hating how breathless she sounds, struggling to keep cool as your ring-adorned hands thumb the material of her short dress. You’ve got her entrapped between the kitchen counter and your sinfully sculpted body, with no way of escape. (Not like Natasha was looking for one.)

“Brat.” The dry laugh that sounds from your throat has Natasha’s heart pounding, a choked sound of pleasure caught in the back of her throat. Your big hands have moved to her sides, cradling her waist tenderly but withholding power, as if you’re ready to dig your fingertips into her soft skin at any given moment.

She thinks it’s unfair, the way your eyes are damn near psychedelic. They’re screens of mercury, smouldering and smoking with the way it trails over her body. If you’re a spark of fire, Natasha is a pool of gasoline that feeds your will.

Hot lips slant against Natasha’s ear lobe, taking it between your teeth as she shudders. Natasha’s breathy release of air as she fights to keep silent has you tugging on her earlobe with pure want.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, your voice a touch lower than it had been before, your hands tightening its grip on her deadly hips, the metal of your rings cool against her hot skin.

The overwhelming sensation of your big hands, hot lips and sharp teeth is enough to have Natasha’s eyes fluttering shut. She almost loses control of herself, almost lets herself fall victim to your hypnotic touch — But then you pull away, and a desperate little whine nearly falls from Natasha’s lips.

The cheerleader swallows as she stares at your crafted face, your eyes darkened with something far deeper than want, your lips tugged upwards into a devilish smirk.

“My room or yours?”

Natasha would like to say that the rest was a blur, and her alcohol-tainted memories got lost in translation — but it was a shameful and unequivocal statement that she had been entirely sober, and yet recalled every single detail of that night to vivid precision.

***

Natasha remembers you pressing her up against your door, a fervent urgency of lust unlocked within the confines of your dorm.

“So fucking desperate,” you grunt, hips knocking into Natasha’s front as you pin her against the door, lithe legs wrapped around your muscled torso.

“Shut the fuck up,” she spits, throwing her head back as your sharp teeth sink into the softness of her porcelain neck. The edge of your canines are hard and unforgiving, just how Natasha likes it, just how you scatter dark hickeys across her pale skin.

You smirk at her brattiness, finding it an exceptionally arousing trait of hers. “Pretty girl, you’re not the one in charge,” you tease, with your words and with your hands, dragging your fingertips up and under her short dress.

Natasha remembers her fingers twisting into your hair as you play her like a fiddle, teasing and edging and so blatantly talented like a prodigal concertmaster.

She whines as the cool metal of your rings nudges her nipples, her sensitivity skyrocketing with the shock. “More,” she tries to demand, but it ends up sounding like a helpless whimper and your hands move with such purpose.

You don’t help her cause by taking a hardened bud between two fingers and tugging, cries and whimpers following your fingers. Heaven is the way her breasts look all marked up by your mouth, hardened nipples and raw skin dancing in your vision.

Natasha’s nails dig into your hardened abdomen, scraping at your every muscle for all it was worth. It was something about you, something about the look in your eye, something about the way you commandeered her body with such precision and control like it was meant to be.

Natasha remembers her complete relinquishment of power, giving herself up for you, with a sick urge to be fucked within an inch of her life and then some.

Your right hand slides across her damp inner thigh to brush at her demesnes, and the sheer wetness that awaits your fingers makes you growl against her skin. “So fucking wet,” you grunt, peeling apart the thin material of her panties that cling to her sodden pussy with strings of slick.

Natasha wails, face completely flushed and so utterly gorgeous, and you can’t help but meet her lips with clashing tongue and teeth. She moans as your pierced tongue explores her mouth, and you drink up her cries of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck you silly,” you pant against her ear, fingers tracing the outline of her pretty pussy, dragging arousal along with it. Your knee keeps her legs spread nicely apart for the taking, and the vulnerability you bring out of Natasha is perhaps also the hottest thing.

Humiliation is the way Natasha agrees so quickly, nodding dumbly in acquiescence, thinking it would be nice to feel her brain melt to mush with your thick fingers and prodding tongue.

Natasha remembers the earth-shattering pleasure that wracks her body, as you divulge in providing, by leaps and bounds, the best sex she’s ever had.

Three fingers slide in and out of her dripping cunt at a phenomenal pace, and Natasha’s panting like a dog, tight velvet walls clenching around the thickness of your fingers for all it’s worth.

Finger-fucking her against the door like a heaven-descent, you bask in Natasha’s cries of pleasure. It’s never been like this, never been this heated. With Natasha, you felt like you were ascending.

“You’re gonna make a mess on the fucking floor,” you bite, a low gasp caught in the back of your throat. Natasha’s head lolls to the side, high-pitched whimpers making themselves known as she drips down your wrist and her thighs.

Natasha remembers the unravelling, the way her body seizes up out of its own accord, electricity erupting behind her half-lidded eyes.

Your hands dig into the plush of her thighs as you bring Natasha to a stupendous climax. Your fingers curl harshly, hitting her sweet spot and drawing out obscene noises from her.

“Fuck–” Natasha chokes out, high-pitched and breathy and absolutely delightful. Her hips jerk in your hands as your fingers move inside her.

“Another,” you grunt, not a request, and before Natasha can get ahold of her senses your fingers are thrusting again. She wails as your wrist jackhammers into her wet cunt, slick sounds echoing around the four walls of your room.

The second orgasm arrives even more harshly than the first, and Natasha clings onto the broad muscles of your back as you pin her against the door, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.

She thinks she could find solace in the way your arms entrap her in a certain type of warmth, almost as if you don’t want to let her go.

But that would just be a hopeless fantasy, wouldn’t it?

Natasha remembers waking up the next morning to an empty bed.

The morning air is too cold on her bare skin. Your side of the bed isn’t even warm anymore. You must’ve left ages ago, in the dark of the night, and that thought in itself has Natasha choking on emotions she’d rather not feel.

Her clothes are still strewn on the floor and the furniture is a mess, a mockery of how far she’d let you go last night, driven by an inescapable high.

This is the game you play. Toying with girls' hearts like it was child’s play, making them feel like they were one in a million for one night only. All that alluring charisma was ugly and falsified, viewed through rose-tinted glasses.

This is the game you play, and Natasha Romanoff had fallen victim to it.

Don’t fall for the player.

Now, it was just another warning sign that she’d overlooked, and she was just like those other girls, stumbling into your open arms and cocky smirk.

Vehement fury slugs inside the cheerleader, as she forcefully picks up her strewn clothes.

Then she looks around the dorm room, your room, and time stills for a moment.

She’d expected it to be somewhat furnished, like all other dorm rooms were, maybe a cactus in the corner or a poster of a rockstar. Instead, your walls are blank and there isn’t a trophy or an award in sight.

You’re the captain of the football team, above average in academics, yet there isn’t a trace of the mark you’ve left as a student at Avengers Institution. There isn’t a trace that you’re a living, breathing human, with emotions that craft your very humanity.

Scarily enough, she feels like she’s laid in the bed of a complete stranger.

And suddenly, Natasha understands.

Don’t fall for the player.

Suddenly, everything feels a little too real, and Natasha comprehends that the statement holds far more depth than what your reputation suggested.

You were just fucking scared.

Scared of commitment, scared of growing attached, scared of being abandoned. You feared getting your heart broken, and thus you feared the longevity of relationships that involved love and romance.

As Natasha picks up her strewn clothes from the floor, with aching limbs and dishevelled hair, only one statement rings in her mind.

Don’t fall for the player.

“Maybe I will,” Natasha whispers to the ghost of your handsome, misunderstood self in the room. “But haven’t you heard I always get what I want?”

***

You couldn’t fall asleep.

You watch the empty sky as you sit on the empty rooftop of the school at four in the morning, a cigarette hanging limp between your lips. There’s an underlying anger bubbling beneath your skin, an itch that you can’t find, simply stewing there to your frustration.

Romance was bullshit.

It was plainly obvious from the way girls approached you. Flirty eyes and feather-light touches meant only one thing. And they were all so pretty, so who were you to complain, right?

All those girls always ended up in your dorm bed, sweaty and short of breath. Your heart would pound, and your mind would go wild with endless possibilities of what could happen if they just stayed.

“You can stay if you want,” you muttered off-handedly to one of your first few hookups in college. The look that the girl returned was so unimpressed that you never asked that question again.

But it was okay, because sex was something that you were good at, and those girls had their fun. It was okay, even if there was something missing. It was okay that your reputation preceded your identity. Even if those expectations spiralled far beyond your control.

With every passing girl you brought to bed, the gnawing hole in your chest only grew bigger. You craved something that you couldn’t obtain. Even if your heart was crawling out of its ribcage every time a girl breathed your name, every time she laid a hand on your chest.

Last night, Natasha Romanoff took that gaping hole in your chest and ripped it right open.

“Please, Y/N,” Natasha had whined, and there was reverent devotion in the way you held her hips, in the way you pulled her close.

“Stay,” you had wanted to whisper, so badly, so many times, but her hands were streaking red marks down your back and her body was shuddering under yours.

So you kept your forbidden mouth shut and continued to do what you did best. All the ‘what-ifs’ were just hopeless dreams. You couldn’t stay, you couldn’t commit. You weren’t allowed to, not after the expectations that had been set for you.

Romance was bullshit, after all.

“You seem troubled,” a female voice announces from behind you, but you don’t bother to turn back. Taking your silence as consent, the girl sits next to you.

“Give me a light,” the girl says, leaning closer to you, and only then do you turn to look her over. Blonde girl, 5’8, blue eyes. Freshman.

“Sharon Carter, right?” you ask indifferently, and the girl lets out a bemused huff as she makes her comfortable next to you.

“Wow, so you do know every girl in this school,” Sharon comments, and there’s a teasing lilt in her voice that hints at how this is going to end up.

You pull out a cigarette, passing it over to the blonde girl, noting how her fingertips brush over yours for a second too long. “Maybe I do,” you respond with false cockiness, the smirk overtaking your face almost unconsciously.

This is the right thing to do, you convince yourself, as Sharon’s hand creeps to your thigh. One girl after the other. You couldn’t get attached.

“Impressive. Put away your light. It’s healthier to destress in another way,” Sharon whispers, tossing her cigarette to the rough concrete.

What a waste, you think, but then the same could be said about a lot of other things in your life.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate your existence. You wonder why you’ve ended up this way. What you’ve done to deserve girls throwing themselves at you when you began to despise all of them.

When Sharon brings her lips closer to yours, and you find yourself meeting her halfway, because you’ve done it so many times.

There’s this tugging of your heart that almost feels like guilt, but you shove it down and drag your tongue between a set of lips. All too easily, your hands draw patterns across her chest and her thighs, a mastered craft that came mechanically.

Even if it is the right thing to do, it doesn’t feel right.

Your head is swimming with unbearable thoughts of Natasha Romanoff, and you try to erase her on the tongue of another girl who could never compare.

It doesn’t feel right, but it’s the easy way out, and it’s what’s expected of you.

Always has been.

***

“Fuck, Y/N—” is the first thing Natasha hears when she meanders into the bathroom the morning after.

She had wanted to get an early start on the new morning, but alas, fate had it out for her.

For a while, Natasha is surprised that she isn’t surprised. You’ve got a pretty blonde girl on the bathroom counter, one hand up her skirt and the other twisted in her hair.

The girl throws her head back in a bout of pleasure, and Natasha’s thinking that maybe she looks a little familiar. It’s her cheekbones, strung high like a haughty prick. “Daddy’s money always gets what you want, hm?” rings in her head.

A spark of fire burns any ounce of indifference Natasha has to ashes. Sharon Fucking Carter.

Sharon’s painted nails were digging into the expanse of your shoulder blades, and it looked downright painful. Your dexterous fingers were plunging into her sodden cunt, rendering her barely coherent.

It all looks so wrong, and Natasha wants to crawl out of her skin before the jealousy eats her alive.

“Fucking hypocrite, aren’t you?” Natasha spits venomously, hands clenched into fists of fury, making her presence known.

When Sharon jumps away from you like she’s been burned, Natasha can’t help but let evil glee surge through her stomach. Serves you right, she thinks, staring at your dishevelled hair that somehow only made you look more handsome.

It’s different, this time, with your eyes darting as if you were unsure of yourself. (Astonishing, considering your mean streak of being cold as ice.) There’s resentment in the way your face sets, and a type of hurt that causes Natasha to falter.

“Daddy’s little bitch,” Sharon scoffs, fixing her skirt with no attempt to hide her disdain. “Why don’t you fuck off, huh?”

Natasha scoffs, eyes widening in fractional aggression. “I-”

“You should go, Carter,” you say monotonously, almost defeated but wavering on the edge of frustration.

The blonde girl whips her head around to stare at you with incredulousness written in her wide eyes. She lets out a dry laugh of betrayal. “Fuck, look at the two of you. Match made in hell.”

The bathroom door slams shut with a piercing thud. Both you and Natasha don’t flinch.

“You didn’t have to call Sharon a hypocrite,” you mumble, flicking your head back to look in the mirror.

There’s something off about you that no one else has ever had the privilege of seeing. It makes Natasha’s heart soar and her blood boil simultaneously.

“She wasn’t the one I was calling a hypocrite.”

A moment passes between the two of you where you flick an invisible switch.

“I’m the hypocrite, Romanoff?” you ask, evidently provoked. A crazed look in your eyes draws Natasha’s attention, because you’re putting on a false facade all over again.

“Am I the hypocrite for fucking another girl? It’s all I do, isn’t it? That’s what I’m known for. You don’t get to be so butthurt because you were just a one-night.”

A sickly sourness lines your mouth as you spew words that aren’t true, because your heart was fighting every battle to get to Natasha Romanoff.

“What you’re failing to realise,” Natasha begins stately. “Is that this isn’t about me. Fuck it if I’m just another girl on your ever-growing fuck list. Because maybe I am. But you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re happy.”

“Oh, so now you’re determining my emotions for me,” you retort with as much snark as you can muster. “You weren’t acting this high and mighty last night in my bed.”

“Quit the act,” Natasha scoffs, then letting a bittersweet smile cross her face. “You’re hiding behind weak retorts because you’re scared. Scared of being alone. But you don’t have to be anymore.”

Lost, your hands twitch, and you allow yourself to believe that maybe Natasha is your salvation. Defense mechanisms kick in, but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Sorry to disappoint, Romanoff, but don’t try to play therapist. I’m not some kind of victim you’re going to diagnose,” you sneer. “I’m free to do whatever the fuck I want without your judgment.”

“Free?” Natasha asks, an incredulous look in her eyes. She laughs in mockery with an unwavering gaze. “You’re not free. You can’t go a day without fucking a girl. You’re a prisoner, and you’re shackled by your own desires and wants. Except this time, that luxury has become an addictive coping mechanism.”

Dark eyes flash with a glimmer of danger, and you’re so much like a trapped animal gone hostile that Natasha’s heart breaks a little.

“You’re wrong,” you answer, but your hands are shaking so violently that you hardly seem like the person she once thought you were.

Where complete equilibrium once was, a desperate frenzy of unease is what exudes from you now. Natasha feels a twinge in her heart when you whisper “You’re wrong,” again, this time substantially more quiet and resigned.

“Prove it, then,” Natasha challenges, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your face. Her eyes search yours so desperately, and you’ve stripped naked in front of a hundred girls, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Prove that you’re more than whatever they say about you.”

With the strange urge of tears pricking at your eyes, you stare at Natasha with all the hopelessness any broken heart could muster, and for a moment you can see the doubt in her eyes. Like you’ve disappointed her, just like all the girls who’s hearts you’ve broken.

But when you first kissed Natasha Romanoff, it was never going to be just another one-night, was it?

With the final semblance of humanity in your burden-stricken mortality, you drag a shaky thumb along Natasha’s cheekbones like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, and the deeply-rooted self-loathing inside you fades away, just a little bit.

Your parted lips meet Natasha’s in a prologue to an unfinished symphony. You delve in like she’s your last lifeline, and maybe Natasha is, from the way she rests her fingers on your hips with a gentleness you’ve never experienced.

A carnal urge washes over you, because this time you’re not afraid to admit that you want Natasha Romanoff. You spread your hands, feeling up as much of her as you can, running it down her back then squeezing at her rounded ass—

And then Natasha’s pulling away, and only then do you hear the cluster of footsteps approaching the washroom.

“Tonight,” she whispers with a hint of smirk. Natasha goes on her tippy-toes to press a kiss on the tip of your nose, and then she’s gone.

You stand there with wide eyes, in the washroom where students filter in, lingering with the ghost of Natasha Romanoff’s lips and a piece of your heart melted onto the floor.

***

You were positive you were going to start ripping off your skin if you didn’t start fucking Natasha Romanoff in this exact moment.

But that would be a bad idea, because you were in the middle of a psychology lecture, and Professor Harkness probably wouldn’t appreciate that.

After a torturous hour of you shifting in your seat, you sprint out the lecture hall. Thanking the heavens that it was your last lesson of the day, you dodge and weave through the crowd of students in the hallway.

“Hey, Y/N,” A small group of sophomore girls call out, checking you out like a piece of meat. Normally, their flirtatious winks and little skirts would have you folded in an instant, but you couldn’t wait a moment longer.

You send them a polite smile and continue on your hasteful journey, missing the comical way their faces fall.

Upon your dutiful research, you knew where Natasha’s dorm was located, but you planned to stop by your own dorm to pick up a little something. (Okay, maybe the something wasn’t that little.) You yank open your door with purpose—

Only to find Natasha already sprawled out on your dorm bed, dressed in one of your shirts and nothing else. You almost pass out. Almost.

“Nat,” you groan, locking the door behind you. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Not before I come, I’m afraid,” Natasha sighs with a pleased smile. She beckons you over with a come-hither motion, spreading her legs in invitation.

You bite back an affected noise in the back of your throat, pushing Natasha back down on to the bed with fervour. With a crushing sense of urgency, you slide your hand between her pretty thighs, not waiting a single moment.

“Slow down,” Natasha instructs, tilting your head up to stare at her blown pupils. “Take your time. Don’t just fuck me. Do it like you mean it.”

Upon hearing those words, a rush of pride washes over you and then you’re so eager to please, desperate to somehow prove yourself.

Your fingers find the hem of her shirt and tug it over her head, revealing the bare mounds that are Natasha’s tits. A shaky exhale leaves your lips as your fingertips experimentally brush over her hardened buds.

“God, you’re built,” Natasha moans, running her hands over the edges and curves of your muscle. It’s tight and taut under her touch, so defined and carved.

You shudder under her explorative touch, returning your attention back to the beautiful girl in front of you.

You were so used to hot, fast, explosive sex that turning back time was such a jarring awakening of everything that you were missing out on.

It put things into perspective, that you had never actually made love. And since this was your first time, you were determined to do it right, especially for Natasha.

You trail open-mouthed kisses down her sternum and stomach, savouring the taste of her skin. Your hands grasp at her tits, enjoying the feel of it in your hands.

You’re experiencing things you never got to experience, like the rise and fall of Natasha’s pale chest, the way her eyelids flutter gently.

Temporarily avoiding where she needed you most, you hear Natasha let out a whine. You tease her hole with your tongue, smearing her slick messily.

“Fuck,” Natasha curses, winding her fingers into your hair. “Please, I need it,” she whines, as you lick at her clit.

“M’kay, baby,” you mumble against her wet folds, because you could never deny Natasha of anything, could you?

You slide your tongue in her twitching pussy, and begin one of the most passionate love-making sessions

You listen out for when Natasha hitches her breath, when her hips stutter, when she mewls out. You learn the instrument of her body, understand and test out the different reactions you can draw out.

After minutes of what seem like pure bliss with erratic breaths and pleading keening, you speed up and the reaction is immaculate.

“Y/N,” Natasha cries, as your tongue goes in and out of her dripping cunt. Her slick goes down her thighs and your chin, making the most obscene noises.

It’s wet and squelching, and you proceed to devour Natasha’s pussy for everything it’s worth.

For a millisecond, Natasha wonders if anyone has ever died from being eaten out too passionately. Erotic Oral Overdrive, maybe.

Her first orgasm comes in a gradual crescendo, her hips rocking in waves as you dutifully match her unwinding.

Natasha lets her eyes flutter shut as the moment overwhelms her senses. Until the silence is finally broken by you.

“Got a little something for you,” you say with a quirked brow, sliding your hand into the bedside cabinet to retrieve that little something.

“Oh, fuck,” Natasha whines, upon seeing the biggest strap-on toy she’s ever had her eyes upon in her life.

You ease in the cock with no amount of trouble, through Natasha’s already slick cunt. You start with a gentle pace, because you’re trying to be slow.

Apparently, Natasha has different plans this time around.

“Harder,” Natasha growls, digging her nails into your muscled back. You let out a low gasp, because you’re already so deep inside her divine pussy, and you didn’t think you could go any deeper.

Gripping her thighs and spreading it as far apart as you can, you thrust impossibly deeper and your hips slap against Natasha’s.

Her eyes roll back, and she arches off the bed as you continue to thrust and make a nest for yourself inside her.

“Y/N, ungh– please, fuck—” Curled toes wrap around your back as she writhes against the bed.

With the way your cock bulges against her skin, you’re quite sure you could actually split Natasha in half. She’s clawing at your back, calling out your name to the ceiling.

When you pull out, Natasha whines, velvet walls clenching tighter around to keep you deep inside. But then you thrust all the way in again and a scream rings around your dorm room.

You don’t give a flying fuck about the noise level as you pound into Natasha, splitting open her pretty little pussy. “So fucking tight and wet,” you moan into her ear. “All for me, baby?”

It’s fucking possesive, the way you manhandle her to look at her rolled-back eyes and slack jaw.

“Mhm– yes! Oh God, yes, please, Y/N!” Natasha shrieks, clenching so tight you swear you can feel her wet pulse through the huge strap-on.

But it isn’t just any strap-on, and Natasha realises this with a breathy gasp, because it’s a squirting strap-on, and then you’re unloading into her ruined cunt with a deep growl.

Natasha wails, legs in the air, as you pump your seed into her pussy. It’s thick and flows out in pumps, and she milks your cock dry.

“Good girl, Nat,” you breathe, rocking in slow motions so she can recover from her high.

Finally, you collapse on top of Natasha as she lets out a breathy laugh. “What happened to not fucking the same girl twice?”

“You’re infuriating,” you grunt, rolling your hips once in retaliation. You delight the small victory of Natasha whimpering under you.

Natasha rolls her eyes at your impertinence, leaning up to press a small kiss on your forehead. “Infuriating? More like irresistible.”

It’s your turn to laugh, grasping her hips and pulling her impossibly closer. “You’re right,” you whisper truthfully. You think you could stay like this forever.

“Stay if you dare,” Natasha whispers, letting her hand trace over the curvature of your angled face. As you lay above her, you turn your head so that your lips brush against her palm.

Your warm lips are so delicate that Natasha could almost weep, and that’s all the response she needs before breathing a gentle sigh, hence letting sleep drift her consciousness away.

For the first night amongst many, a quiet calm settles in your dorm room ‘til the sun rises again.

***

Don’t fall for the player.

Once upon a time, that used to be a warning, circulating within the hallways of Avengers Institution, whispered under hushed breaths and divine lips.

Tried and true, was the rumour that every single girl in this school would eventually fall victim to The Player’s effortless charisma and unstoppable magnetism.

And this might be true, because whenever you strolled the hallways or scored a touchdown, you were bound to have admirers cheering your name or flirty winks thrown in your way — However, there was a catalyst. A change, if you would.

Boys looked on in jealousy, girls looked on in intrigue. (Or maybe jealousy, too.) What used to be a smooth mouth and wandering hands became a delicate kind of control, saved for only one particular student.

Gone was your blatant charisma and swagger in treating other girls, because now there was only one on your mind — Natasha Romanoff. Be it in on the bleachers, in the hallways, or during dorm parties, never were you seen without the girl who always got what she wanted.

And that included the very subject of the mantra that defined Avengers Institution:

Don’t fall for the player.

so... this was one full month of work. i've never been this dedicated to a singular project. wow. uh, please reblog. it's the only true way of supporting your little creators on this app, so help me out here. thanks for reading. out of curiosity, which part did you like the most?

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day fourteen: degradation kink

>>> so clearly i have a lot of issues...y'all gonna hate me for this one i can just feel it in my bones but guess what....i do not care! toji is degradation need i say more?

>>> starring toji fushiguro x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: dilf!toji, age gap, college aged reader, mafia themes, dad's best friend toji, degradation duh, no prep, exhibitionism, breeding, a daddy theme? you don’t ever call him that it’s just. yes. dark content maybe? just in case. creampie, pet names. >>> wc: 3.6k >>> event masterlist

it was risky, you know, and most certainly wrong. you should be disgusted. he’s been married—lost his wife, has a young kid, all things much more adult than you’ve ever had to deal with in your college-aged life. he’s a horrible man, though you suppose your father isn’t much better since they work so closely together, not that you’re supposed to know anything about the work they do. all you know is they make way too much money and carry way too many guns for their jobs to unrelated to the mafia crime wars making the news. you should be disgusted and scared, yet here you stand, in front of your mirror trying to find the best outfit to wear downstairs to greet your dad’s sexy colleague. 

you were only in town for so long since you were just visiting your family for summer break, so you had limited time to try and lure him into making a move. so you settle for a black bra that enhances your bust, covered only with a black glitter mesh long sleeve and a matching leather mini that clings to your ass. it was definitely a heels kind of night, and the pretty black louboutins you slid into elongate your legs perfectly. after some hair and makeup, you sling your purse over your shoulder and only make your way down the stairs when you can hear his deep voice speaking with your father. 

you stride past the office, knowing your dad would stop you. your heels click against the mahogany and as if on cue, your father belts your name. you grin to yourself, everything was going according to plan. you turn, clicking back to lean into the room. 

“yes, daddy?” you hum, batting your eyes so innocently when you were the picture of anything but. it makes a vein in your father’s forehead jump, but alas, you’re a grown woman who makes her own decisions. just rest assured the weight of god would come down on whoever wronged his baby girl. 

“where’s my princess going?” he coos, giving an apologetic glance to his coworker. luckily, he feels his eyes and meets them, giving him a nod of forgiveness. 

“oh, just going out with some of my girls! becky just got out of a relationship–she needs the club!” you titter adorably, feeling his eyes bore into you. you give him a sickeningly sweet smile, “hi mister fushiguro!” 

the scarred corner of his lip creeps into a grin, a finger salute serving as his greeting only because he didn’t trust his mouth to keep his thoughts at bay. you’re sexy as fuck, and totally off limits. it only makes him want you worse, though it doesn’t help you’re the hottest bitch he’s ever seen. 

“do be careful, princess.” he smiles, clueless to how his friend eyes you up. 

“course daddy. can i take your black card?” you pout so endearingly, toji would give you all the money in his wallet if you asked. your father hums approvingly and fishes it out of his wallet, holding it up in the air for you to retrieve. your heels click and your hips swing as you make your way over, displaying your delicious figure perfectly. toji thinks it’s a miracle your father hasn’t had to kill anyone over you yet. you lean over the desk and take the card with perfectly manicured fingers. he watches it all, already planning how the rest of this night would go once you left. 

“be careful.” your father reiterates, and you roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. 

“don’t worry–my guys can handle anyone who gets outta line–satoru and suguru would never let anything happen to me.” you swear, batting those long lashes again. your father seems comforted by this, but toji is only aggravated to learn you have male friends. they no doubt wanted to fuck you and were only biding their time just as he was. “bye daddy, see you later mister fushiguro!” 

and just like that, your red bottoms carried you away with obnoxious clicks telling him just how far from him you were. your father sighs heavily. 

“what a handful that girl is.” he says affectionately, shaking his head as they get back on task, your father giving toji a rival kill for the night. he grins at the file, knowing he’d be able to wrap that up rather quickly and then get to the real target. 

you’re haunted by how effortlessly good he looked, and how unable you are to do anything about it on the way to the club, only wallowing in your desperation for a man way older than you. he was just so big, tall and broad and had to be even stronger than he looked. you knew he was experienced and rough, he would definitely be able to take care of you, if only you could work up the nerve to actually hit on him instead of these passive aggressive attempts at drawing him to you. it clearly wasn’t doing the trick, even if you could tell he wanted you. you’re so lost in your own head that the driver has to get your attention multiple times before you realize that you’re outside the building. you step out and shimmy your skirt down a bit further. 

the sound of your friends squealing as they wait for you draws you right to them, painting a smile on your face to celebrate you friend’s breakup—shoving hopes of toji fushiguro finding you at the club tonight to the back of your head. the scene is nothing special, just like every other clubbing spot in every city in the world. it’s all neon lights and smoky clouds of tobacco and marajuana both, the smell of liquor and vomit mingling together to make your nose scrunch and sting as you enter the dingy dance floor alongside your closest girls—and the bodyguard boys trailing behind you. your group makes their way to the bar immediately, fruity mixed drinks and beers being handed out for the first of many times tonight. you can feel the buzz of excitement in the air even though you were feeling let down, perhaps that was because of the group of fellow college-aged boys eyeing you and your friends down from the dj booth. you play your little games with the man staring at you longingly, downing the rest of your liquid courage to go ask him to dance. 

his hands were clammy, but at least he smelled good—like too much cologne and the gum in his mouth, his body pressed up against yours as you two sway to some electro-funk beat meaninglessly. You can feel his sweaty hands trail along your waist and hips, even lowering to your thighs and inching his fingers up the already short leather skirt, and your nose scrunches up in distaste. it was better than wondering about your father’s right hand man though, so you settle for it. you tell yourself that if you think hard enough, you can picture him instead. it doesn’t take as much effort as you thought. the clammy hands of the college boy disappear to be replaced by the coarser broader hands of an older man, the heavy cologne replaced by a natural musk with hints of a beach bonfire mingled in. his hands would move along your body expertly, he would know the ins and outs of the female anatomy–surely able to please you in all facets. you can just imagine his smirking face as he leans down over your shoulder to whisper something raunchy in your ear, something about how he’s been waiting to make you his since the minute he saw you. 

which is almost exactly what happens, except the man you’re daydreaming of stands in front of you looking real amused, seething almost. “princess,” he snarls, the bass in his voice alone enough to shock away the little boy grinding into your ass. “here i was thinkin’ ya got all dressed up f’r me.”

the red and green strobe lights of the club dance off his sharp features, highlighting the jealousy and intrigue swimming in his eyes. there was a splatter of blood on his cheek, but otherwise he looked as gorgeous as he normally did. his black t-shirt looked nearly spray-painted on the way it was highlighting every ridge and muscle in his chest and torso, and his usual pants clung to the taut muscle of his broad thighs. 

“i did, but you shrivel up in front of my daddy.” you tease, unsure of where your courage to poke at the dangerous and large man came from. “now you wanna come here and scare off the ones bold enough to dance with me?” 

you’re evil, you’re sick in the head, but you smirk like you knew he would fall into the trap easily. and he does. he grabs your wrist and spins you around, and you feel the warmth of his fingertips digging into your hip. another one of the college boys watches with contempt, nursing a bloody nose you imagine he earned with some slick comment— that explains the fresh blood on toji’s face. he presses up against you, dropping your wrist in favor of a hold on your throat, not too good to manhandle you in public. what’s someone gonna do? intervene? call the cops? that makes him laugh. the grip on your throat is surprisingly light, though the threat of something more punishing looms large. you feel his chest rumble against your back— he was laughing at your tense form, the beat of some rap song thumping in your ears now. 

“yeah, that’s exactly what i did.” he snarls in your ear, his hold on your throat keeping your back to his chiseled chest, not that you wanted to get away anyhow. “shrivel up,” he chortles at your dig, replaying your little tantrum. “y’know the only reason i can’t manhandle ya in front of your pops is ‘cuz he’d get so stupid i’d have to kill him. want that, sweetheart?” 

you’re embarrassed you have to keep yourself from nodding—wagering your father’s life just to have his colleague the way you wanted, how shameful. he spits these pet names like they’re insults, like he knows what you really are. a little whine of desperation leaves your throat and you press your ass back against him, collecting your thoughts to find something to say to drive him wild. “do whatever you gotta do, i’m familiar with the business—just want you real bad, mister fushiguro.” 

it works, everything you do puts him deeper under your spell, gritting his teeth in frustration as he falls for you. it’s more embarrassing for him than it is for you, really. he’s a grown man enchanted by the supple body and soul of a woman a fraction of his age. but he can’t stop himself from tailing you on your outings, telling himself that your dad pays him a pretty penny to keep you out of harm’s way, and that’s all he does. but he goes above and beyond, especially on nights like these when some little boys are feeling a little too bold for his liking. so of course he followed you here, and of course he broke that scrub’s nose who said something about your ass, and of course, it was just a matter of time. until he just couldn’t lie to himself any longer about what he wanted. until you pushed him over the edge and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

“oh yeah?” he hums, brow arching up as his hands slide down your hips, playing with the hem of your skirt. “you really that big a slut for me? you’d let me kill your precious daddy?” he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss under your ear. he radiated warmth and possessiveness and his fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs. you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or his words but you’re buzzing. you can feel his handprints practically searing into your flesh, the two of you barely moving to the beat that drowns out all other noise. 

he slaps your ass. “asked you a question.” his gravelly voice rasps in your ear, the scraping of his teeth against your flesh comes next instead of a sweet kiss. you whimper out a bit and nod, feeling the heat course around your body in a mixture of embarrassment and deep arousal. he was right—you were a massive slut, dedicating your entire summer break to getting his attention in hopes he would touch you like he is right now. 

“can’t hear ya–might be th’ music?” he taunts, sliding his other hand away from your neck and over your voluptuous chest. he grunts impatiently as he feels the dips of your body and that coarse sheer top beneath his fingertips, waiting for you to obey. 

“yes—i’m’a slut, mister fushiguro.” you hiccup from the vodka running through your veins and the embarrassment stinging at your eyes. his chuckle rumbles through his chest again, though not in the way it did earlier. he spins you around to face him, pinching your chin in between his forefinger and thumb. 

“call me toji, dollface.” he smirks as you nod sheepishly, suddenly shy now that you were getting your way. he was even scarier up close, beautiful features twisted and darkened to reveal his sinister nature. but you find a way to get lost in hooded eyes of green reflecting the crazy flashing lights as he looks past you, trying to find somewhere to take you. he locates a bathroom, dragging you behind him with another commanding grip on your wrist. he has the decency to pull you inside the women’s stalls at least, reserving the biggest one for your activities. he would just fuck you out in the open to really show you how crazy you make him, but he can’t risk making that big a scene—and he’d probably have a few more bodies to bury if anyone looked at you the wrong way. 

you stand in the middle of the stall, watching him secure the lock and turn to you, chuckling at your waiting expression. you were nervous, wanting to impress but not sure where to start despite the hot need snowballing in your center the longer you stand there and look at him. he tilts his head up and you walk towards him, his smirk spreads. 

“you’re an obedient lil pup for such a spoiled bitch.” he chuckled, shoving his beefy hands under your top and pushing it and your bra up over your chest. you swear you can feel your panties dampen from the words alone, why did you like it so much? you open your mouth to respond, stammering over your speech. 

“i’m–i–i’m n-not—” 

“spit it out, pup.” he laughs, feeling at the round mounds you barely kept covered. they’re just as fat and soft as he knew they’d be, and his cock starts responding to your little whimpers as he massages you roughly, pulling and pinching at your nipples. 

“not a—not a slut!” you huff out despite the way you lean against the wall to relish his callused hands on you. he snickers again, the sound so mean it makes you pout up at him. it only makes his cock harder. he drops his hand to cup your pussy, earning a gasp from you. you bite down on your lip as he shoves your thong aside and crudely collects some of your slick on his digits. he clicks his tongue when he shows you, fluorescent lighting and your arousal making his fingers shine. 

“not a slut? then what’s this?” he arches a brow. “seems like y’r dribbling down y’r legs to me.” he taunts, pale pink lips stretching into a menacing grin. he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, shoving his fingers past your pout until they tickle the back of your throat and you gag. the sound makes him shudder a bit, and he’ll make sure you choke on his dick next time. “say it or i’m goin’ home. not giving my dick to liars.” 

you clean his fingers, intrigued by the sweet acidity of yourself. your eyes widen a bit at his threat, knowing you were defeated. his other hand tugs at your hard nipple again and you wince at the delicious pain. you pull off his fingers and resume that adorable pout. “guess i am–i’d do anything!”

he laughs and yanks your skirt up to your waist, letting his thick fingers play over your swelling clit tauntingly. “then beg for dick like the little whore you are.” he says in a faux-non-chalance. your breath hitches at his feather light touch and demeaning command, but as he steps back and pushes down his jeans, your mouth waters. 

“oh god–” you whine aloud, legs pressing together at him. he was huge, wrapped in bulging veins and gorgeous ridges. his black hair was trimmed around his base, full balls hanging low. you lick your lips at the sight of his hand closing around his shaft, and you gulp when you realize just how big he is, a massive hand not enough to contain him. “fuck. toji–please, i want you so bad.” you bat your lashes at him, fixated between his dick and his piercing stare. “may be a whore—just for you though, been waitin’ on you to notice me. “

oh, he noticed. you made it impossible not to, looking like pure sex every time he saw you—but the glossiness in your eyes and the slight bruising around your tits really brings it all together. he drops the baby changing table and looks to you. he does it so effortlessly you wonder for a second if he’s done this before, but it didn’t matter either way—you would be the most memorable for sure. 

“bend over.” he adds, the dark pools of lust taking over the greens of his eyes. you do as told, feeling embarrassed at your disheveled state as you lean over the table attached to the wall and part your legs, feeling his hand come down on your ass roughly. you squeal and jump a little bit before his hand snakes between your thighs to feel just how ready you were. “poor old man. gonna be so devastated.” 

“don’t care.” you whimper, wiggling your ass back to feel more of his cock as he slides it along your folds, stealing some of your wetness for himself. he chuckles, grabbing as much of your fat ass as his hand could hold. 

“course y’don’t. y’r my little whore.” he grunts, jiggling your cheek. “he’s right though. you really are a handful.” he chuckles at his own joke, aggressively shoving his thick cock past your tiny hole, cussing at the tight fit. “see? swallowing me up like it’s all y’r good for.” he huffs against your neck, leveraging his weight to snap his hips against you like he hates your guts. you’re clawing at the textured plastic under you, his pace absolutely brutal and ripping guttural cries from your throat. he reaches around to clap his hand over your mouth, not wanting anyone to come running thinking someone’s getting murdered back here. “loud slut too, hah?” 

you nod, rendered unable to do anything else. he pounds into you, jamming his leaking tip into the entrance of your cervix, sending blissful pain shooting through your body. he was even better than you imagined, tingles shooting everywhere and blurbs of white floating across your eyes. your arms start to wobble as you hurtle towards your orgasm, and toji reaches out–making a ponytail out of your hair to pull on, snapping your back into a deep arch. he grunts at the vision before him, your pussy was gripping him like nothing he’d ever experienced. 

“never fucked a whore cunt like yours–maybe i’ll cum real deep in it so i can keep you.” 

you clench at that and he tosses his head back to groan, amazed by the recoil of your ass and the choke of your walls. you whimper in his hand, the idea of feeling his cum was so hot to you—you couldn’t possibly delay your own release any longer. he feels you still, your pussy spasming around him as your body goes completely limp. you still make your little noises of approval as he uses you. 

“aw, you liked that, huh? you’re nasty, bitch.” he chuckles deeply now, cock twitching in your womb. but he’s just as bad, fantasizing about how you’d tell your father that news, how he’d do anything it took to see your slutty body grow into a motherly one. he paints your walls in thick, hot ropes, stilling inside you. “guess megumi could always use a sibling.” 

he pats your ass with something akin to affection and slides out, watching beads of his seed trickle out. you pant and try to collect your thoughts, expecting to hear the lock of the stall click open and toji’s footsteps pad away from you—no doubt slipping back into the night to patrol for your father like usual. but moments pass, and you don’t hear anything other than you’re own breathing until he clears his throat again. 

“so. wanna get some food’r somethin’?” he thumbs at the corner of his lip anxiously, and you swear you can see the hint of a blush on his nose. so this is the part that makes him nervous? 

“huh? you tryna be my boyfriend or my sugar daddy?” you giggle as he repositions your skirt on your hips. he rolls his eyes.  “more like your baby daddy, dollface.” he spanks your ass and opens the bathroom stall, letting the lady go first—showing you that he’s a perfect gentleman.

[fangirldreams101]

Coming Home pt. 6

DBF! Daryl, Rick, Shane & Negan x Reader

TW: Severe age-gap w/ older men, smut, consensual sex, handjobs/fingering, groping, some aggression, alcohol usage, unprotected piv sex (wrapping before tapping), Reader FINALLY gets laid

Chapter Index

It has been months since you have last talked to Rick and Daryl properly. Not for lack of trying on their part, they had tried to talk to you but you were not there to play games. They made their choice, they were not going to be allowed to backtrack on it. Besides! Shane kept you plenty of company. He swung by the house more often nowadays, flirting and flashing his charming smile. It was nice getting to know him, even though he frequently did not get the chance to stick around for very long, Daryl or Rick miraculously making an appearance and dragging him off. They thought they were being subtle, but you heard glimpses of their not-so-quiet whispers; saying things along the lines of, "Shane wasn't allowed to flirt with you," and to "remember the pact,"- whatever the hell that means. It didn't seem to really deter him though, Shane being quite bold in the placement of his hands or how close his body would be against yours. Alas, it was only teasing and nothing more, and you were not planning on spending your college years getting wet over fleeting touches. You enjoyed Shane's flirtatious company but you wanted more than that. And you were going to get it.

The month of your birthday was rolling around, and since it would be your 21st, your dad was planning on going all out. He booked one of the town's bars for the night, and was inviting almost everyone who ever made contact with you in your life. You tried to tell him you would be happy with something small but nothing was stopping your kind father from giving you an all out birthday bash. Your mom was even flying in with some of your old gang: friends from high school, neighbors, etc. You felt a little embarrassed with how much they doted on you but you were also very touched.

The day of the party came around and you were at the bar now, dolled up and greeting everyone arriving. It was a heartwarming feeling seeing everyone come in to support and celebrate you. You stood by the door and greeted the new friends and neighbors that you've made. Rick was one of the first to arrive. It was strange not seeing him in his work uniform, he chose to instead wearing a casual button-up with jeans. The first few buttons were undone, and for whatever reason, you didn't think you had ever seen a more attractive collarbone in your life. He sauntered up to you and his eyes trailed your body.

"I havn' seen ya around much darlin'," he said, a tentative smile on his face.

"I wonder whose fault that is," you joked half-heartedly.

His smile dropped from his face, “There is nothin more that I want than to-"

"Thanks for coming," you cut him off with a smile, "I have to greet the other guests but please help yourself to whatever you'd like."

You went to move away but suddenly arms wrapped around you and a familiar voice whispered into your ear.

"Does that mean I can have ya," Shane's voice was heavy with barely hidden lust.

"Everythin' alrigh' over here," Daryl's heavy drawl broke into the conversation.

Great. All three of the hot men in your life who have expressed some kind of desire over you and then rejecting you in some way or another all in one room. Thanks dad.

Shane released his grasp on you and grinned like a wolf, "Everythin' is more than fine. Peachy, even."

With the word 'peachy' he gives a small smack to your ass, eliciting a yelp out of you and a threatening step towards the two of you by Rick and Daryl.

"Get yer hands off o' her," Daryl growls.

"Shane we talked about this," Rick sighs at the same time.

Shane's tone turns to frustration, "No. No we didn'. You two talked about it n' then decided to tell me what to do. I'm sick of it."

While they squabbled amongst themselves like hens in a coop, you took this chance to slip away. You did not want whatever weird relationship you had with them to ruin the hard work your community went through to make this a special night for you.

Suddenly, the door to the bar burst open and your mom charged in arms wide, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Behind her, your friends and neighbors from Washington came in, smiling and giving their well wishes. You charged at them, giving them hugs and teary smiles. Finally, the party could kick off now that everyone was here.

As the night went on, drinks, stories and laughter were passed around. You couldn't believe how great of a time this was. You avoided the troublesome trio as much as possible, intent on having a good time. Later in the night, as everyone was just milling about, the bell hanging over the door rang out as another guest came in. You turned to greet the late comer but stopped when you realized you had no idea who the hell he was.

Your eyes slowly raked over his body, admiring his dark hair and facial features along with the dark leather jacket that clung to his arms.

"Hi, sir! Is there something I can help you with," you politely asked, walking towards him.

As you did, he let out a low appreciative whistle at your form, not hiding how he admired your shape, "Well helloooo, doll, aren't you a sight?"

You felt yourself bristle at his forwardness but also couldn't help the heat you felt rise to your cheeks.

"Mmm if I had a pretty little thing like you, I'd never let you leave the bed," he laughed.

For the first time in a hot minute, you were left speechless. Sure, Shane was pretty forward, but nothing like this. This man was clearly eye fucking you and you were sure that if he could get away with it, he'd be actually fucking you right here on the floor.

"I'm sorry, but this is a private event. Who are you," you asked, after taking a moment to recover from the shock.

"Hey! Negan! My man!" Your dad came barreling into the conversation as always, clearly having one too many to drink.

"Hey man, how are you," Negan smiled back, the both of them doing the typical man hug and slapping each other on the back.

Your dad did the introductions, "This is Negan, he was my best friend in college but the bastard stayed in Washington. Turns out he was comin' by to explore the town cause he got a job offer, so I invited him here to catch up. I hope that's ok?"

You nodded sheepishly, "Sorry for attacking your entry like that, just didn't recognize you."

"No worries, doll, I get it," Negan winked at you and then turned back to your dad, "Now where's the little birthday girl you always yap about?"

Your dad chortled and gestured to you, "This is the birthday girl!"

Negan's eyes visibly bulged out of his head. "The fuck are you talking about? The way you talk about her I thought she was 5 or something. This is... this is a woman."

"Well she'll always be my little girl," your dad sheepishly said, "Hey wait a minute... I sent you her age when I sent the details about the party! Did you not read it?"

"Fuck no man, you sent like 10 paragraphs, I am not reading that shit," he glanced at you, "Uh, no offense."

You laughed, you really liked hearing the banter between the two of them. Negan felt like a very sexy breath of fresh air. He was blunt and forward, you really liked that after dealing with the troublesome trio's vagueness and their hot and cold attitudes towards you. You liked Negan. Your eyes took him in once more. Oh yeah. You liked him a lot.

Your dad and Negan continued to converse but his attention was really more on you than anything else. He kept his gaze on you for most of the conversation until someone else caught your father's attention and dragged him off. Negan took the opportunity handed to him and sauntered back towards you.

"Hello, doll," he said.

"Hey," you returned, holding out a hand, "Sorry I never got the chance to introduce myself properly. I'm (Y/N)."

He shook your hand, "Seems like you read my mind, sweetheart. I was about to say the same to you. The name's Negan. Had I known what a beauty you are, I would've flown down to meet the old bastard ages ago."

You felt yourself giggle at that comment and that was the green light for him. You spent the rest of the evening in a little tucked away corner of the bar with him, learning more about each other. He became more and more bold with your body as you both became increasingly tipsy. As the party continued, you eventually decided that the clear chemistry between the both of you was enough to see if you can get to know Negan a bit more... intimately. He was just too damn charming and too damn hot for you to pass up the chance. And if he rejected you... well add the name to the list.

You leaned in close at his next joke, laughing lightly as you put your hand on his thigh. His smile slowly left his face and the beer he was bringing up to his mouth was brought down. He looked down at your hand and you could visibly see his gaze darken. Worried you did something wrong, you began to pull away when his hand shot out and latched onto your wrist. Keeping a firm but gentle grasp on your hand, he looked into your eyes and slowly dragged your hand up to his crotch.

"Is this what you were aiming for, sweetheart," he breathed out and you shuddered, feeling that he was actually hard this whole time, the leather jacket and jeans covering and restricting his hard-on from view.

You look up at him through your eyelashes, "Depends on if that's what I get."

"You can get it alright, baby, just not here. Don't want your old man cutting off my dick before I get the chance to be in you," he tugged on your arm, lifting you from the barstools you were residing on, "Come on sweetheart."

You guys both maneuvered your way through the crowd, not noticing Daryl's inquisitive gaze following you. You guys originally headed to the bathroom, but they were full so you both stepped outside into the alleyway behind the bar. The chilly night air could not do a damn thing to quell the heat that was growing in your stomach and you grabbed the back of Negan's neck with your free hand, pulling him into a heated kiss. He groaned into your mouth, releasing your wrist just to wrap his arms around your body. One of his hands tangled itself into your hair, yanking your head back, breaking the kiss and allowing his mouth to hungrily devour your neck and exposed collarbone.

"Fuck," you sighed out, holding him as close as humanely possible.

"Mmmm you pretty doll, all nice and all for me," Negan mumbled into your neck, seemingly talking to himself more than you as he pulls you in for another kiss.

Being in a dry spell since you got here, Negan's actions had you soaked in seconds. You pulled at the buttons on his jeans, reaching in and feeling him. He grunted at the sensation as you let out a small gasp in his mouth, happy with the weight of him in your hands. As his own hands explored you, groping your breasts and ass, you began to stroke him. He let out a groan at the contact, before moving his hands to your thighs and lifting you up.

Not breaking the kiss, he maneuvered the both of you so your back was up against the brick wall of the bar, and he was between your legs. He ground himself against your center, your thin panties letting you feel the heat of his cock rub against you.

He placed desperate kisses against your chest, "Pretty doll like you deserves to be taken in a fancy bed and made to cum until you cry, I'm sorry I can't give that to you right now, sweetheart. We gotta be quick."

You groaned, "It's doesn't matter to me. Just wan to feel ya."

"You dirty lil doll," he chuckled, "Alright baby, I'll give you want you want."

The hand not holding you up trailed in between your bodies, reaching into your clothes and feeling your wetness.

Negan sucked in air at the feeling, "Damn doll, you are soaked."

You felt your face flush at that, telling him to shut up and put it in already.

He let out a laugh and traced his fingers around your opening. You bucked your hips, trying to relay the message and he finally sunk his fingers into, pumping them in and out as a steady pace.

His thumb pressed into your clit, causing you to cry out as he tutted, "Now now, baby. Don't want the rest of the party hearing us. Keep it in sweetheart or you won't be able to get what you want."

You whined at his words, the way his fingers curled into you prevented you from forming proper words. He continued to pump and twist his fingers into you, and you could quickly feel the pressure building. Judging by how you tightened around his fingers, Negan could tell you were getting close too.

"Nuh uh, sweetheart. Want you to cum with me," he teased, slipping his fingers out of you and putting them into his mouth as you whined at the loss of contact.

Negan groaned at your taste, savoring your sweetness and moved aside your panties as he freed himself from the confines of his jeans.

"Ready sweetheart," he asked, moving his tip back and forth across your folds.

"Condom," you panted out.

"Ah shit," he groaned, "Didn't think I was going to get myself some sweet ass tonight, I don't have one."

“It's fine," you mumbled, bucking your hips again, "want you in me."

"You sure, baby? I'm here for a bit, we can do it another time-"

Before he could say anything else, with a firmer thrust of your hips, you were able to slip the tip of his cock inside of you.

"Fuck," he exclaimed at the feeling of your gummy walls trying to suck him in.

"I'm sure," you said firmly, "Now fuck me."

Negan gave you the largest smile you've seen out of him, "Fuck me doll, I love myself a woman who knows what she wants."

With that, he sunk himself into you fully as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Negan let out a groan, loving the way you felt around him and began to pump in and out of you like he was never going to see you again. You both began to kiss each other hungrily, teeth and tongues clashing as he continued to move. You tried to move your hips as much as possible but you were quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place, so it was a bit difficult to do so. Negan didn't mind at all, as he began to incorporate grinding into his motions, successfully stimulating your clit in all the right places.

Once again, you quickly began to feel yourself being wound up, this extremely messy but passionate sex was getting you close to finishing faster than you thought possible. The clumsy way you both tore at each other showed your inexperience with each other's bodies but the clear desire you had for one another. Negan broke the kiss, planting himself in the crook of your neck and began peppering you with small hickies. His hips began to falter and you could tell he was also getting close.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, "Out or in baby?"

"Wha-," you moaned, delirious from the pleasure.

"My cum, sweetheart, out or in?"

In response you wrapped your legs around him and pulled him in closer to you, "Fuck, in me please. Please, in me."

"Goddamnit why are you so fucking hot," he growled, fumbling around to press into your clit once more.

With his words and motions, your dam broke and your came with a silent cry. Negan grit his teeth at the way your pussy spasmed around him and pumped a few more times before pressing his hips deep against you, until you were sure you were going to be bruised tomorrow. He bit into your shoulder as he came, filling you up with him cum and officially ruining your panties as it began to dribble out. You could feel him twitch inside of you, sharp bursts of cum hitting your walls as you both tried to catch your breath.

Once he was sure he had nothing left to give, he gave a few more thrusts into you before pulling out slowly. You hissed at the sensation, soreness already kicking in from the position you were in. He pulled your panties over your pussy, gently patting it and making your jump from overstimulation. He chuckled as you gave him a half-hearted glare before gently setting you down. Immediately, you almost fell over, collapsing into his chest.

"Woah sweetheart, don't go falling for me now," he chuckled, supporting you as he tucked himself back into his pants.

You gave him a dopey grin, so freaking pleased that you finally got laid by a hot man. Suddenly the door to the bar blew open and Daryl stormed out, frantic.

You and Negan quickly separated from each other, trying to fix your hair and clothing.

"Jesus, (Y/N) we almos' had a damn heart attack wonderin' where you were at-," Daryl stopped in his tracks noticing the disheveled state of the both of you, "The hell?"

Negan stepped forward, "We were just, uh, about to head back in-"

Daryl charged forward, punching Negan across the face, ”WHA' THE FUCK DID YA DO TA HER?"

You run forward, shoving Daryl away, "Jesus fuck, Daryl! Get off of him!"

"DID HE TOUCH YOU," Daryl yelled grabbing you by your shoulders right as the dimly lit alley lights lit you up perfectly, highlighting your exposed collarbone, and evidently, your hickies and messed up makeup.

"Hey man, get your hands off of her," Negan shoved Daryl away, cradling his punched jaw.

Daryl stumbled back, looking in shock between you and Negan, watching the way you ran to Negan's side to check on him.

"Oh my god Negan, are you alright," you cried out, gently holding his face.

"How can I not be fine when I have an angel like you worried about me," he joked, but upon seeing your clear concern, cleared his throat, "'M fine sweetheart. Jus' took me by surprise, is all."

"Did you two- did you two-," Daryl stuttered in shock.

"Did we fuck? Is that what you're asking right now," you questioned angrily, "Not that its any of your goddamn business but yes! Now leave us alone, Daryl!"

Daryl let out a staggered breath, running his hands through his hair, ", "Darlin... ya shouldn' have-"

"You do not get to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, Daryl! I'm a FUCKING adult no matter how many times you want to imagine otherwise! And you are not going to say one goddamn word about this to my dad otherwise you will never see me again and I will bust up your bike, do you hear me?"

Negan chuckled, "Doll, you're going to have me at your feet, I swear."

Daryl whipped his head around to glare at Negan before sighing and nodding, "You... yer righ''. 'M sorry. I shouldn' have done tha'. I'll, uh, I'll see ya inside. Happy birthday, (Y/N)."

With that, he walked inside like a kicked puppy while Negan wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Well besides the lil interruption, I'd say this was a lot of fun, sweetheart. I hope we can do this again sometime."

You stared at the door Daryl just walked through for a second before nodding, "Yeah, sure thing."

Taglist:

@eternalrose81 @belaballs @lonely-girl2423 @thewitchesofart @theoraekenslover @raininhell

[the-broken-truth]

Missing Piece - Yandere Leona Kingscholar [Part 1]

Summary: Leona finds Yuu is pregnant with his child and demands she get rid of it; claiming he hated children and walked nothing to with the cub she was carrying. Upon refusing to do so, she ends their relationship. 7 years have passed since graduation, and Leona is working at his Father's Company but he feels like something is missing in his life. He finds what he is missing upon meeting a lost boy while on his way to work.

Broken: I don't know every single thing about Twisted Wonderland or Leona, but I really wanted to write this, so just bear with me. Here are some notes explaining a few things in this story.

Notes:

Yuu possesses magical abilities, but she is still human. Her specific magical ability is called Binding Magic, which allows her to use chains to immobilize her targets. However, she needs to be within a certain distance from her target for the chains to remain bound. Alternatively, she can use more magical energy to maintain the chains at a distance. The maximum amount of time the chains shall remain bound is one hour.

Night Raven College is an All-Boys School, so Yuu attends a school for girls.

This is a more modern version of Twisted Wonderland - The Kingscholar Family owns a major company and Leona is one of the possible heirs, but he has an older brother who is the main heir. There are still Beastmen and others, as well as magic, but they live alongside humans in this storyline.

Yuu sat alone in her dorm room, tears slowly streaming down her face as she attempted to calm herself down; stress was not good for her, not at this delicate moment in her life. She inhaled through her nose before exhaling through her mouth and opened her eyes to look around the room, she was currently in the middle of packing; graduation was right around the corner and her time at the school she was attending was coming to an end. She was excited and sad to leave this place, she made great friends and had some good times, but at the same time, there were some times she had massive regrets. One of those moments was happening right now. Yuu's attention was drawn from the room when the phone in her grasp dinged and vibrated against her palm, signaling she had a new text message. She unlocked her phone before opening the message, her eyes narrowed as more tears flowed upon reading the contents of the message and who it was from.

Leona, her boyfriend.

No.

She should not call him that anymore; no loving boyfriend would say the things he said to her earlier in the day.

Leona: You know that I love you, I really do, but I can't accept this; I refuse to. Just get rid of it and we can forget about the fight, we can continue being happy together as we planned, Herbivore. Just get rid of it.

Yuu scoffed at the message before turning her screen off and throwing the phone on her bed before placing her hand on her stomach which contained the most important thing in her life now - her child.

Yuu met Leona during a joint school event with Night Raven College as the main sponsor since it was much larger than the school Yuu came from. She was talking with some friends when she bumped into Leona and ruined his shirt with the drink she was enjoying; he literally growled at her and demanded that she apologize for ruining his shirt, but she stood up to him and told him to leave her be. This is what triggered Leona's Interest in her and he continued to follow her around for about 2 months - he somehow got her number and would constantly text her, asking her to give him a chance and she finally gave in, agreeing to a date at the cafe in the city. Things went well, better than well, and the two of them kept seeing each other until Leona asked Yuu to be his girlfriend; she agreed and life was good for them.

Alas, all good things come to an end eventually; do they not?

Yuu had been feeling under the weather for a while and her friend told her she might want to get a pregnancy test done since this feeling arrived after Yuu helped Leona out of his rut; Yuu was certain that the two of them used protection but she went to get the test anyway. Imagine her surprise when she discovered she was bearing Leona's Child; she was happy and terrified at the same time, she knew Leona wasn't fond of kids but she hoped once she told him the news, he would accept it because it was his own cub.

She called him and asked him to meet her at the cafe where they had their first date; she ordered his favorite drink and waited for him to arrive. Once he did, the two of them sat and talked about things going on in their school lives and possible plans for after graduation; once he was relaxed and Yuu had his undivided attention, she told him the reason he called him there.

The moment she told him that she was pregnant, Leona burst into a fit of laughter, thinking that she was joking, but when she told him that she was not joking and she was really expecting his child, Leona's tone changed and the next words that came out of his mouth caused a nail to hit in the center of her heart and it shattered like glass.

"Get rid of it." Leona growled out, making the young woman sitting across from her shiver in her skin; it was instant, no delay or thought given. He wanted Yuu to get rid of their child and she knew he wasn't kidding; she's been with him for a long time, and she knew that look in these green eyes. This seriousness caused tears to form in Yuu's blue eyes.

Yuu tried to keep herself together as she begged Leona to reconsider - this was another life they were talking about, a life their love had created. She understood that he wasn't really interested in children at the moment but they could adapt and watching the child grow and eventually be born could make Leona see just how precious this life was. Leona growled and glared at Yuu before he rose from his chair and hissed out his next words with venom.

"Either you lose it or you lose me."

As Leona left the cafe, a young woman was left crying alone in the booth, with her hands covering her face. The other customers looked at her with pity and concern. The barista decided to offer her a free drink and muffin, while another pregnant woman brought her a cinnamon roll. She sat across from the crying woman and introduced herself as Mira. They had a deep conversation for about two hours until Yuu returned to school. Mira made sure to give her phone number and urged her to call in case of any emergency or uncertainty. Yuu sat on her bed in silence for a while, remembering the words Mira told her in the cafe before she reached over to grab her phone and unlocked it once again before returning to Leona's Message Thread; upon collecting her thoughts and calming her heart, she started texting Leona.

Yuu: You have expressed that you want nothing to do with this child and that is your choice, that is your right as an independent individual. However, I am my own person and I shall make my own choices, and my choice is to keep my baby.

Yuu pressed the send button and waited - a response arrived 3 minutes later and she didn't hesitate to look at it.

Leona: You can't be serious. You're gonna choose a parasite that's not even alive over me?! You're willing to lose me over that thing?! Use your fucking brain, Herbivore; you need me just like I need you! That thing will only get between us! Get rid of it so we can be happy again!

Yuu typed her response.

Yuu: You told me to choose and I chose - I'm keeping my baby. My child will have nothing to do with you or the Kingscholar Name if that's what you are worried about. They shall not know your identity as their father or even as a past lover of mine. I shall give them the best life I can without you in it. All I ask is that you continue to live your life and find someone who will make you happier than I ever did. Goodbye, Leona Kingscholar.

Yuu sent the message before pressing the button on the upper right corner of Leona's Messeng Thread.

You Have Blocked This Contact

Yuu locked her phone once again before looking out the window at the full moon in the cloudless sky as the stars twinkled in a sea of deep darkness. She closed her eyes and prayed to the Great Seven that she and her baby would have a prosperous life, to give her the knowledge & resources to aid her child in whatever they wished, as well as a prayer thanking them for all they have done for her and everything they will do; once her prayer was done, she placed her phone on the charger before sliding into bed and fall asleep.

As Yuu slumbered, green eyes glared at the screen of the phone in his hand as he sat in the darkness of his room and he looked at the system message with hatred and heartbreak in his eyes.

The Person You Are Attempting To Contact Is Actively Blocking You

He snarled and threw the phone across the room causing it to hit the door and shatter into pieces, the male gripped his hair while covering his ears as the voice started coming back; the voices of doubt that once plagued him. He thought he was free from their curse when Yuu would hold him but now she was gone, she was ignoring him, and he was alone once again. He roared in anger and sorrow as he fell upon the blankets of the bed, tears flowed from his eyes until he opened his eyes once again to see the Lion Plushie Yuu gave him for his most recent birthday. He reached out, grabbed the plushie, and looked at the collar around its neck:

Leona & Yuu Forever

Leona hugged the plushie to his chest, balled himself around the plushie, and sobbed himself to sleep; she'll come back to him. She realize that he was right and she will come back to him. Everything was going to be alright and they were going to be happy once again; all he had to do was wait.

[Seven Years After Graduation]

It is said that time can heal wounds and allow scars to fade away, as well as allow us to improve ourselves for a better future; at least, that is what Leona wanted to believe.

After Leona graduated, he tried to speak with Yuu at her graduation ceremony. He wanted to explain that he cared about her and wanted to make things work between them. However, when he arrived, Yuu's best friend told him that he was too late. Yuu had already left with her parents after the ceremony. They promised to take care of her during her pregnancy and to support her until she could find a job and a place to live. Leona never got the chance to meet Yuu's parents or visit her home. It was then that he realized he had lost her forever. His heart was shattered into a million pieces.

Leona returned home and applied to work at his father's company- while he was not next in line to be the CEO, that title and right belonged to his Older Brother - Falena. Falena was rather serious about his job and family when it came to his wife and son, Cheka; Falena loved his family more than anything and he would do anything to protect them. He hated working under his brother, constantly in his shadow, but Leona was still a Kingscholar and he was not going to let his brother's high position outshine him for long; he would work harder than Falena ever could and continue to rise above.

Leona did just that and worked well with the other employees; he would always do his part and help anyone who needed it, he wasn't over-friendly but he was still respectful to those he worked with, including his father and brother in the office.

During those seven years, Leona managed to snare the President Title for himself while his father was CEO and his brother was COO; the pay was grand and the people in the office respected him, that should be everything he wanted but he could feel it - the hollow void in his heart that could only be filled by one piece, a piece he discarded and regretted ever since.

Leona moved back into his room at Kingscholar Estate and that is where he spent most of his time, lying in his bed while holding his lion plushie that was slowly falling apart at the seams; it was the only thing he had that reminded him of her and he refused to let that piece of her fade away.

Leona's Father attempted to introduce him to numerous women from respectful companies and families but he was never interested in any of them; he wanted her and none of them were her. His father would tell him that he was holding on to the delusion of the one he wanted coming back to him when it was Leona's fault she left him in the first place. Leona would snarl at him before leaving the room to leave Falena to reticle his father in kicking Leona at his weakest point; the younger brother no longer cared about being outshined by his older, his worst regret was letting go of the only person who truly understood him.

One day, Leona was out and about dressed in his suit with his satchel across his shoulder and resting on his hip; his father sent him to close a business deal with a potential new client, they were a rather small business, well, small when comparing it to the scale of the company Leona worked for but their name was getting out there and Leona's Father knew it was important to make the necessary connections the business world.

He walked down the sidewalk, eyes green eyes focused forward as his tail swayed from side to side with each step he took; he was so distracted that he wasn't really aware of his surroundings until he came to a stop when a smaller body connected with the side of his legs, causing him to look in the direction of the child and his eyes widened slightly in confusion.

The child's visage reflected his own when he was around that age with the only exception being the young boy's eyes were the deepest blue he had ever seen. He watched as the young lion rose to his feet and looked up at the man before him before bowing his head in respect.

"My apologies, Sir! I wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into you." The boy said before looking up at Leona with a bright smile; this boy radiated a kind aura that he felt like he was familiar with.

"It's alright, kid; I was rather distracted too, and wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings." Leona said causing the boy to gasp.

"That's not good! You have to watch where you are going or you shall get hit by a car, or a bus, or a train, or even stabbed by some stranger who is having a bad day or malicious intent! Then, your family shall miss you and people will be sad!" The boy exclaimed while waving his hands around.

"Where did you come up with that?" Leona asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Mommy would say that when I was too distracted! I'm working hard to be more careful so Mommy won't worry too much about me and she will see that I a a big boy!" the boy smiled while placing his fists on his hips in a superhero-like pose, causing the taller lion to chuckle at him.

"Your Mommy sounds like a wise woman. What about your daddy? Is he just as wise as her?" Leona asked.

"Oh, I don't have a Daddy. Just Mommy and she is the only one I really need, but I also have God-Ma, and Auntie, as well as Grandma and Grandpa, so I'm really happy! I don't need a Daddy!" The boy smiled again as his smaller tail waved around behind him. Leona opened his mouth again when a voice called out through the air; sending a ping through his heart.

"Leonis!" A female voice called out.

He watched as the boy, Leonis, turned around and ran to a woman wearing casual clothing; long black hair, lightly sun-kissed skin, and a golden necklace with a locket pendant laced around her neck. Leona looked at this woman as the young boy hugged her legs as she petted him between his ears.

"Mommy!" Leonis called out while looking up at her with shining blue eyes.

"Leonis, I have told you numerous times not to run off like that. What if you got hurt or if someone tried to take you away?" She asked - her voice light and sweet but stern and concerned to her child.

"I would have scratched their eyes out!" Leonis said as he raised his claws to show them to his mother, "I am the Lion Strength of Our Family and Grandpa taught me how to fight! There's no one stronger than him and I'll be able to protect you too, Mommy!" She chuckled and smiled sweetly at the child.

"I know, My Sweet Cub, but Mommy wants to make sure that you remain safe. Now, it's time to meet Grandpa and Grandma for lunch, are you ready to go?" She asked.

"Yes, Mommy!" Leonis turned to look at Leona who was standing there watching the interaction between mother and son before he started waving at the male, "Sorry for bumping into you, Sir! I hope you have a prosperous day!" This caused the mother to look at Leona.

Time seemed to slow down around the Kingscholar Male as his breath was caught in his throat when sapphire locked with emerald.

"Yuu?" His voice came out in a weak whimper as he looked at the face of the woman who stood before him, who looked at him with wide eyes but said nothing.

He watched as Yuu reached down, took Leonis by the hand, and started walking him to their car in the parking lot;. He watched as Yuu placed the cub in the car seat behind the passenger seat of her car before closing the door and walking to the driver's door, opening it and getting inside before closing it. His keen ears picked up on the sound of the engine roaring to life before the car pulled out of the spot, out of the parking lot, and drove down the street until it disappeared completely from sight.

Leona stood there as the world moved around him, his eyes remained wide as the pieces started falling into place of realization and 6 critical points were made obvious to him.

Leona had finally seen Yuu after their break-up seven years ago.

Yuu was now a mother.

Her son was a Lion Beastman while she was a human.

His name was Leonis.

Leonis couldn't be older than 6 considering his size.

Leonis looked just like him when he was that age, only with Yuu's eyes.

Yuu had given birth to his child, to his son, and had been raising him alone. He was a father. Leona Kingscholar was a father.

However, that's when his eyes widened once again when he remembered what Leonis told him during their conversation and it caused his heart to grow cold once again.

I don't need a Daddy!

Leona stood there for a while before he started walking once again - he had a business meeting to get to and after that...he had to make a very important call.

[END]

[anjelicawrites]

Cringefail Throuple 💡

Since Michael and Reader had to go back home for Christmas, they rush back to Oxford to celebrate the new year with Billy. Lots of alcohol, silliness, and sex occurs.

Beloved Cringefail Throuple💡 anon, have I told you how much I love your brain?

NSFW and 18+ only under the cut!

Warnings (kissing, biting, scratching, fingering, threesome, anal, p in v sex, anal fingering, overstimulation, squirting).

It all would have been better if you could have access your respective colleges, alas they're closed until the holidays are over, which forces you and Michael to sneak into Billy's flat to doll yourseves up for New Year's eve. Billy, of course, doesn't know, he thinks you two are celebrating at home, with your families and will be back before the new term starts. This had been the plan, then you and Michael missed your puppy boyfriend too much to wait and your heart hurt too much at the thought of him alone on New Year's Eve as well. And here you are, back to Oxford, ready to have fun, and sex.

When you, finally, emerge from the bathroom, you've gone full goth mode: black make up, corset, fishnet stocking and high heels. Michael stares at you with his mouth hanging, eyes shamelessly on your barely covered cleavage.

"Maybe we should stay in. Wait for Billy here."

He's not drooling, but might as well be. As he stalks towards you, he can feel his cock growing in his pants: maybe you'll help him with that? Lend him a quick hand?

"No, no, no, no, Mr. Gavey. We're here for a reason." You stop his advance with a hand on his chest. "We could have a little head start. It wouldn't be the first time." Michael growls, trying to state his dominance.

Your fingers cupping his growing erection shatter any form of control he's trying to assert over you.

"We're going to go to the pub and wait for midnight there. Then, only then, we'll go home and fuck the first day of the new year away."

Michael's eyes almost cross when the pressure around his cock grows; as dominant as he is, he loves when you take the lead and make him behave, makes it all the sweeter when he punishes you for it.

When you two arrive at the pub, there's already loads of people ready to spend the night, groups of friends singing drunkenly over the muted TV. How you and Michael manage to find a small table is a miracle, so is the fact that said table is in a small nook, so that Billy can't see you, not yet.

You two have to sit very close to one another, pinned as you are between two loud groups of people and Michael can't pass the occasion to trail his hand under your, admittedly, short skirt.

"Don't." You chastise him "What? I don't know where I'm supposed to put my hand. We're a little pressed here." He says with a smirk. "You think you are so smart, are you?" You cross your lags and block his advance. "I am." He uses his trapped hand to slide you and the chair closer to himself. "And you will pay for this."

You feel the heath of his words spreading all over your body: you can't wait.

"Promises, promises." You murmur against his ear.

You yelp when his trapped hand curls cruelly on the meat of your tight, the pitiful sound you've just made drowned by the voices around you.

"You're such a bastard, Gavey." "And you love me all the more for it." Michael has to crane his neck to see the counter. "He's back!"

You can't see Billy from your position, you can imagine he's returned from the storage room and it's your time to shine.

You stand up and adjust your ridiculous short skirt, before you saunter to the counter, where your other boyfriend is; you can feel Michael's eyes on your skin, you burn with his desire. Knowing that he wants and needs you makes you wet, that you can reduce his powerful mind to mush makes you ride the biggest power high of your life.

"Hello gorgeous." You position yourself so that your cleavage is in full view of Billy, who stutters and blushes when he sees it. "Two beers, please?"

You laugh when he doesn't move, doesn't speak, just stares at your breasts: have you broken him?

The spell you've put him under breaks when the other server tells Billy to get a grip on himself and he blushes even more, his big blue eyes finally traveling to your face.

"Hi handsome." You repeat. "How? Why? Is Michael here as well?" "Yes, baby. He's thirsty and hungry as well, not for food, though."

If self combustion were possible, your poor Billy would have burnt on the spot: you two are back and all his need for you two explodes in his loins, his cock stirring in his jeans.

"We'll be at the table nestled in the corner." You say and wink, swaying your hips as you walk back, beers in hand.

Thankfully there's too much noise and people for Billy's colleague to truly notice your interaction or the fact that he's far too willing to go around the tables to collect the empty glasses and plates and that he takes a bit too much time whenever he disappears where the table in the nook is, only to reemerge dazed, having being kissed senseless by you and Michael every single time.

When midnight approaches, you and Michael manage to grab Billy, so that you three can be together when the clock on the telly strikes twelve. All the people around you are too busy celebrating, to notice the passionate kiss you three share at the far end of the pub.

No one is surprised when you two wait for Billy, at the pub you and Michael are known to be his friends and have accompanied him home countless times, the only difference is that you two are drinking shots with the staff, this time, whilst the pub gets closed for the night.

How you three make it home is a miracle, full as you three are with alcohol, swaying as you walk to Billy's apartment.

"How long are you going to stay?" He manages to ask in between kisses. "Until the term starts." Michael answers, his hand grabbing Billy's arse. "We'll need more condoms, then." It's the answer he receives.

The three of you might be drenched in alcohol, yet your combined libidos aren't affected, the kisses shared on the way home have only turned you three on even more: you're wet and loose already, your boys hard in their trousers.

You feel their hands on your body when the door of the flat closes, Michael's hands on your breasts, his lips on your nape, Billy on his knees, face buried under your skirt. You moan at the double sensation, Billy's mouth on your clothed cunt, Michael's fingers pinching your nipples over the thin shirt you've been wearing under the corset.

You three undress sloppily, hands in the way, teeth biting the skin revealed. You barely manage to get to the bed, clothes left everywhere, you lover's fingers buried in your cunt, your hands jacking their cocks.

You three fall in a heap on the mattress, kissing, biting, licking, hands exploring, you between your lovers, their teeth on your skin, their fingers fucking your hole and pinching your clit until you come with a whine. You find yourself on your back, legs over Billy's arms, his cock pushing into your pulsating cunt, grunts of pleasure at how tight your muscles are clenching around his erection, your whines of overstimulation drowned by his moans of pleasure as Michael's fingers fuck against his prostate, Billy's cock fucking you following the rhythm the other has imposed.

Billy buries himself inside your cunt when Michael's cock head starts entering him.

"You haven't been playing with yourself." You hear Michael grunt.

Billy's answer is a moan of pleasure, his face hidden against the side of your neck.

"It means I have to fuck you open again."

You can feel the short, deep pushes of Michael's cock as he moves Billy's hips to follow his movements, Billy's moans and whines of pleasure as he tries to move, to push back, but he's stopped by Michael's hands on his hips. Under them, you're writhing and begging, your cunt still reeling from the previous orgasm sends shock waves of pain and pleasure, your clit fires under the pressure of Billy's hipbone, your muscles clench almost painfully around his manhood, you lovers's grunts of pleasure are all you hear, until Billy whips his head back and comes with a shout.

He's trembling over you, his cock still hard inside your hole fucks you faster, now that Michael can push freely inside of him. You can only curl around Billy's body, your teeth biting his shoulder savagely as he pistons inside of you and fucks himself on Michael's cock, your body taking the brunt of their lovemaking. Your hips desperately try to move away, the stimulation too much for your poor body, yet your orgasm crests and crests, until you come, nails scratching you lovers' skins.

They keep fucking you and one another, Michael bends himself over Billy, so that you three can kiss messily, his hands now on your hips to keep you still, make you take it like you should. It hurts and drives you wild, your cunt a fist around Billy, your feet kicking at nothing in the vain attempt to escape the pleasure.

"I can't! I can't!"

You scream and beg, but Billy's cock drags against your G-spot again, the pressure of their bodies writhing over yours builds inside your belly, until it snaps and you squirt with a shout, your lovers following you with grunts and whines of pleasure.

You three are a trembling mess of limbs on the bed, of lips seeking skin, of nerves singing. You are not sure of who cleans the mess and covers your body with the duvet, you are just floating, riding the endorphins high, safe in your lovers's arms.

"Happy New Year."

Someone says in your ear, you can only babble something and curl tighter around whichever of your lovers is the closest: happy New Year indeed!

Cringefail Throuple taglist: @fan-goddess

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Welcome Bienvenue, Rollo.

{January 30th to February 2nd}

Please read the Birthday Blog Takeover Submission Rules. Yes, I’m reviving this from 2020-2021 just to honor Roro—

Something was amiss.

Of that, Rollo was certain.

The air at Noble Bell College had been strained all day, pulled taut like the tightened strings on a violin. Every so often, those strings would be plucked, sending a wave of tension rippling through the campus and setting his bones shaking. There were whispers passed, quick glimpses made, stifled laughs shared between his aide and vice president.

But the instant he so much as cocked his head in the direction of the guilty parties, they would nervously retreat out of sight. Alas, no chance for a proper chiding--nor to divulge their secret.

What do I care of their matters? Rollo scoffed, dismissing the idea of pursuing them. He made his way down the hallway and to the student council's quarters. So long as it does not interfere with my duties or cause a commotion, there is no reason for me to step in. Leave fools to their foolishness.

Rollo swung the door open and stared into an abyss. The fireplace that normally warmed the space had been extinguished, leaving the room blanketed in darkness.

He sighed, running a hand along the wall. His fingers met the light switch and flipped it, light flooding his field of view.

Students, his aide and vice president among them, sprung out from behind furniture. Gargoyles swooped down from the ceiling. Each grinned and chorused, "SURPRISE!!"

Pop, pop, pop!! Crackling, colorful confetti rained down, settling on Rollo's robes and inside of the large brim of his headwear.

He blinked, dazed as the students descended on him. One offered a party hat, another ferried a platter of petit fours, and several more bore wrapped boxes topped with bows. Excited chatter on all sides, eager eyes in every direction.

"... What is this fanfare?" Rollo demanded warily.

"It's your birthday, Mister President!" his aide beamed. "Don't tell us you forgot."

"It isn't that I forgot," Rollo massaged his temples. His growing frown was difficult to conceal with a single folded square of cloth. "It's that I had plans to tend to some important documents today. This is... an unprecedented turn of events."

"You're always working so hard for Noble Bell College and your peers, putting work before yourself," his vice president said.

"We've never seen you have fun your birthday once in all the time we've known you," a gargoyle added.

The aide nodded. "That's why we decided to throw this special celebration in your honor! Let us handle your duties for the day while you relax with your friends.”

"No, I couldn't possibly allow for you to..." Rollo's voice trailed off as realization set in. "Wait one moment. When you say 'friends', who exactly are you referring to?"

“Oh, we were in correspondence with them to prepare for the party,” explained the vice president. “They should be joining us soon. It’s just a short trip for them through the mirror.”

Through the mirror? His gut wrenched with dread. No, it can’t be…! Not possible!!

“Flamme.”

He turned at the voice calling his name, looking as though he had seen a ghost.

Faintness overcame him, and the handkerchief which he reverently clasped to his face fluttered to the ground. Rollo’s face was a show of open shock. “Y-You…!!”

There, in the doorway, was a gaggle of boys in black uniforms edged with golden trim. A band in various colors and a unique emblem was proudly displayed on every left arm. Seven variants, seven dorms.

At the front of the pack was a horned man dripping in black.

They're here. He's here.

Searing bile rose in Rollo's throat.

The villains of Night Raven College. They've returned to torment me.

The horned man's lips pulled back, revealing blinding, knife-like incisors. His voice was a rumble that could shake the mountains. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

Rollo knitted his fingers together tightly, his knuckles going bone white. "Malleus Draconia and company. How kind of you to pay a visit to the City of Flowers."

"Well, it is an important acquaintance's day of birth." Malleus extended an arm to him. His smile was mocking, twisted at the corners. "It is good manners to come and greet the blessed boy."

Rollo snorted, careful to not let his expression sink into a too-obvious sneer--not in front of his classmates. "You will have to excuse me. I don't recall granting you such information."

"Ah, that," Malleus chuckled darkly. "One could say... a little bird told me. Excitable creatures, those. I do believe she is in attendance as well--likely lost in this sea of guests. Do remember to give your gratitude for organizing this get-together, for now you have no need to fear being alone on this momentous occasion."

That Malleus Draconis, he's patronizing me!! Rollo snarled internally. Bells played a resounding war ballad in his head. Were his rage any greater, steam would be pouring out of his ears. How dare he...

Before he could get a word in, his aide and vice president excitedly flanked him.

"Isn't this great, Mister President?" the vice president asked, heartily smacking Rollo on the shoulder. "All your friends gathered in one place to celebrate you and your achievements."

"We worked really hard to put this together," the aide chimed in. "We hope you enjoy it."

"This is our thanks to you!" A line of gargoyles bounced up and down--perhaps the most animated he had ever witnessed the slabs of stone. "Happy birthday, Rollo!"

The words shriveled in his mouth.

He took one look at his fellow student council members. Their jubilant, shining faces met him. He looked at the waiting Noble Bell College students behind them, and then the Night Raven College students walling off his only route of escape. They wore smirks in varying shades. And the dancing gargoyles.

Rollo was caught like a mouse in a trap.

A monstrous roar ripped through the room. "Let's get this party started!!"

"Yes, quite..." Rollo muttered unenthusiastically. He was easily drowned out by his overjoyed classmates.

Rollo glowered to himself as he bent to retrieve his fallen handkerchief. His harsh glare burned a hole in the floor.

The man's carefully crafted schedule, interrupted. Peace and quiet, shattered. His worst enemies in his sanctuary. And he, tiredly relenting and resigning to it all.

What am I going to do with these charlatans...?!

[francesminos-tt]

I stumbled upon a post here saying Joff is Jacegan’s son, and I also know about a fic where Viserys is Lucemond’s love child, which make me think. A lot. How about a modern au where Joff is Jace and Cregan’s son, Aegon the younger is Rhaenyra and Daemon’s son where Viserys Jr is Luke and Aemond’s son. I am messing up some age gap here.

Please don’t take this too seriously. It’s just a quick crack post!

When Joffrey was born

Jace 20

Cregan 21

Luke 18

Aemond 23

Daeron 13

Jace gave birth to Joff when he was 20. It was totally unexpected, truly, he didn’t even realize he was pregnant until like 4 months in. He was still trying to figure out who he really wanted, Cregan or Sara. (It is Cregan. It is Cregan from the start. Even Sara knows it, if her speech at Jace and Cregan’s wedding is anything to go by.) Jace panicked all through his pregnancy, thinking himself a failure to be knocked up while still in college. He ceased that line of thought the moment he got little Joff in his arms. All is well after that. (Or maybe not, because Jace worked nonstop after Joff’s birth, trying to make up for all the missing school work and graduate in time. Cregan had to feed him real food. Humans can’t survive solely on energy drinks, obviously. One would expect someone smart as Jace, a leading debater at the school debate team, should know better. But alas. Fortunately Cregan was there to help, and he had no intention of ever leaving Jace’s side.)

Luke beats his big brother’s record by giving birth at 18. (19, Luke agues, his water broke when celebrating his 19th nameday, so technically he was 19 when Viserys Jr was born.) Unlike Jace, his pregnancy was a carefully constructed plan to baby trap Aemond. And it worked. Luke is very proud of himself. Aemond can play hard to get for all he likes, but Luke knows his scaring uncle has feelings for him. Or else who would stare at someone like Aemond does every time their extended family is forced to get together? When Luke learned Aemond would go to Citadel School of Business for a master’s degree next year, he knew he had to act quickly. He pulled some strings (black mailed Aegon, to be precise) to get Aemond’s schedule and successfully stumbled upon a drunk Aemond outside a shady bar. The rest is history. (Luke shared his pregnancy with his mother Rhaenyra, who was expecting her first child with her uncle Daemon. They made so many uncle fucking jokes that Jace had to flee the room out of sheer terror. Luke laughed until Aemond picked him up from the sofa to go get a scheduled ultrasound. Aegon the younger was born 3 months prior to Viserys Jr.)

Joffrey always feels like a big brother to Aegon the younger and Viserys Jr growing up, although he is only one year older than them. He takes after Jace, apparently, to care for the little ones, but he also inherited Cregan’s protectiveness toward his family. So when he sees Aegon and Viserys being bullied by some shitface, he rushes to their rescue. Joff took several punches, sure, but he also kicked one of the bullies on the balls. (Cregan is so proud. Jace, not so much at first, but after he learns Joff only gets in a fight to protect Aegon and Viserys, he gets Joff a Switch as reward.) Joff is at least a head shorter than the bullies, so he slowly loses his ground and is about to be shoved into a stinking pond when his knight in shining armor arrives. Daeron is on his way back from tennis training when he saves Joff from drowning in a stinking pond worse than the sewers. Joff spits out disgusting water and kicks Daeron on the shin. To his credit, Joff doesn’t need protection, he can fucking defend himself thank you very much. (Language! Jace shouts.) Years later, when Daeron nervously asks Joff to go on a date with him, Joff barely spares him a glance as he says yes. Daeron is more nervous than he goes to a Grand Slam Final. He can’t be blamed. He’s asking his great-nephew (Oh god that sounds wrong) 13 years his junior to go on a date with him.

Later at a family dinner

Cregan: Look I will allow you to date my son only if you get your tennis player buddies to sign the autograph- (Jace throwing him death glare) Never. I mean I will never let you defile my precious little Joffrey.

Daeron: Come to think of it, I am only 13 years older than Joff while uncle Daemon is like 16 years older than Rhaenyra. No offense, uncle Daemon.

Daemon (sipping wine, looking smug): None taken, kid.

Luke: I know I am not the best person to say this-

Aemond: You are not.

Luke: Shut up.

Aemond: Make me.

Rhaenyra (ignoring the gross sound of kissing in the background): Joff, dear, just remember to use protection. I have some condoms in my drawer that you may like. I believe they are coke flavor.

Jace: MUM!

Daeron: Thank you sister, but I don't think it will be necessary. I won’t even hold Joff’s hands until his 16th nameday.

Jace: YOU WANT TO HOLD MY SON’S HANDS???

Luke (finally breaks the kiss but still sits on Aemond’s lap): Now I feel like we are not the sickest couple in this family anymore.

Aemond: I can be sick.

Jace: THIS IS NOT A COMPETITION!!

Joff (stealing Daeron’s desert while frantically poking at his Switch. Damn that dragon is hard to defeat)

[amalia07]

Hazbin Redesign Batch 3

Had the designs for sometimes, but only got to work few days ago cause of college.

Anyways, I already did the line arts for Sir Pentious and Veggie (name will be changed), but decided to hold both of them for now.

First design is Cherri Bomb's. I personally don't have much complains over her canon design, just that her color schemes are too boring (there are like, 4 other female characters with the blonde, white skin combo) and her overly detailed and chaotic outfit, but that can be excuse cause it reflects her personality.

For her color scheme, my inspiration is the cherry fruit. St first the colors are more bright, but I felt that it doesn't match her military green outfit. I shortened her main hair and exaggerated her ponytail, try to mimic those poffy 80's styles. Made her clothing simple, and it will be linked to her backstory that I'm making about her. I also severely downgraded her arm tattoo, because I suck at drawing them T_T and replace them with freckles.

I also made Cherri muscular, cause it just make sense :)

Second one is Mimzy.

So apparently Mimzy supposed to be based of.... hens? Yeah, not buying it, but alas, it's an interesting challenge.

My first redesign of her was that she's based off of the stereotypical cartoon demons from the 20s-40s.

For her, I tried to put more chicken elements to the design. Giving her a comb and filling the other side of her hair with feathers, cause I don't think a half bald look fits her (I'll put it on another character I'm planning to redesign tho). Changing her color scheme, and for her beak, since in my HC, her sins are not that major (pretty just an overall loud mouthed coward, she is more unpleasant that out right evil). I decided to give her nose a little bit of a tinted yellow color, not an actual beak, something like Xavier the Renegade Angel is you know that character, but less profound. I also gave her a cigarette holder, cause that's the hype back then.

[daegall]

[22:23]

pairing: bad boy bf!hyuck x (implied fem!) reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, party!AU, bad boy!AU, established relationship!AU, college!AU

warnings: alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk and throws up, hyuck has family problems + mentions of family feuds

word count: 610 words

a/n: AHAHA lets pretend i didnt dip for a month and that this was totally planned writing and not made on a whim in the bathroom GREAT anw . i think i'll be pretty inactive for the next few months bc school has been A BITCH and my mental health completely deteriorated aha. ANW ENJOY

networks/taglist: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @kflixnet @nct-writers @k-radio + @soobin-chois @markhyuckselca @jaehunnyy @justalildumpling <3

The alcohol in your system is too much.

bad boy!donghyuck can tell as well, just at a glance of how your eyes droop sleepily, and how you sway slightly with a grimace. It's thrown you over the edge in just a second, as your stomach churns and you throw a hand over your mouth.

Donghyuck instantly follows you as your feet stumble across the room, bumping into all the dancing people in the party, hopefully leading you to the nearest bathroom. He knows what's about to happen next, and is definitely ready. He makes sure he's ready by throwing his cigarette away, shifting closer towards you.

Alas, you have found your way into a bathroom, throwing the door open as you stumble onto your knees next to the toilet bowl. You don't even seem to notice how Donghyuck closes the door, before kneeling next to you to aid you through your experience.

The next thing you know, you're throwing up. Your fingers grip at the toilet bowl and your face scrunches up at the extremely u comfortable feeling, coughing a few times.

However, what comes next isn't so uncomfortable, if anything, it's so very comforting, as Donghyuck has one hand gliding up and down your back, his other sweeping your hair from your face.

His gentle coos follow as you once again start throwing up into the bowl, mumbling words of encouragement into your ear. "That's it, let it all out," He whispers, "I've got you, pretty girl,"

After about 4 and a half minutes of sitting by the bowl, trying to focus with your mind spinning like crazy, you seem to sober up a lot more, wiping at your mouth as you slump against the wall.

"Sorry you had to go through-" you pause, gesturing to yourself up and down, "-all this. I know how excited you were for this party."

The sour scrunch of your eyebrows loosen when Donghyuck runs his thumbs gently over them, shaking his head with a small smile. "Don't apologize, baby, I was excited because you were coming along with me,"

And suddenly, you have the immense urge to cry. It seems too late for you to stop that, as tears start to form at the corner of your eyes, and you seem to gravitate towards your lover with a pout.

Donghyuck instantly catches you in his arms, cradling your head into his shoulder. "Hey, hey, don't cry! You're gonna get dehydrated!" You nod instead of answering with words, burying yourself deeper into his embrace as he coaxes you into relaxing and breathing steadily. You unconsciously sync your breathing with the strokes of his hand on your back, kissing your skin in between such loving phrases.

"You're really good at this," You comment, after noticing how your headache had almost instantly disappeared.

Donghyuck smiles at your words, his hold tightening around you gently. "I learned from my father while my mom was pregnant with my sister, and then I had to do it when my mom as a drunk,"

You grimace at the thought of resurfacing his broken memories of his troubled family, immediately retracting from his hold. "Shit, I'm sorry for-" "I just said don't apologize!" Donghyuck hollers out before you could finish. "I swear baby, all I care about right now is you, okay?"

He can finally smile once you nod, taking your face into his hold. Donghyuck's fingers are warm as they glide across your cheeks, leaving trails of warmth full of comfort and love, as his lips follow right after.

"Now, let's say our goodbyes to our friends, before going home to sleep early. How does that sound, pretty?"

[otomes-world]

Infatuation

I don`t know why and for what reason, but I wanted to write something for Rook, so here we are. 27.“I didn’t ask you to do that” “You didn’t have to”

Studying in one of the most successful educational institutions definitely had its advantages. At least it gave more chances for a stable future. You were guided by this and a couple of other personal reasons, while submitting documents and subsequently preparing for admission here.

Night Raven College was famous for its centuries-old traditions. Moreover, it had a separate building for technomages. So why they did not bother to modernize the method of transporting students? You thought, rubbing your temples and holding back your dizziness. The body still remembered fear and surprise. It wasn't every day that a carriage hits you. It wasn't every day that you reacquaint yourself with the world leaving the coffin.

It wasn't every day you see a classic boring entrance ceremony interrupted by a sea of fire and a talking cat. Especially the talking cat.

Is it too late to pick up the documents and choose a quieter place?

No, you shook your head. You could drop out hundred more times, so you can at least try.

A few months later, you were ready to use the time machine to go back to the past, purely to choke yourself for these thoughts. Is it not exist? So, you had to invent it and then implement your plan.

Let be damned day when you decided to speak up and out of the goodness of your heart to help Yuu. You were a little pitiful for a newbie who was shoved into a crumbling building, bombarded with various assignments, and who just got hit in the head for being friends with Ace and Deuce.

You knew firsthand about the first years of Heartslabyul. Fortunately, one day you saw how they smashed an expensive candelabra. You just passed by and, seeing Trappola flying through the entire room, you immediately escaped from the scene of the incident. Getting under the director's hot hand was not on your list of plans.

Just as the attention of one annoying person did not fit into your future.

His sudden interest might have been flattering, but, alas, you were sensible in assessing your own strengths and weaknesses. Therefore, you could not logically and rationally find the reason for the appearance of Hunt in your student life. Listening to rumors and just looking at him, you doubted whether he was familiar with these concepts.

However, again, you couldn't call him crazy. He was eccentric, but far from being an idiot. At the right moments, his head worked as it should and more often than you would prefer.

One-sided verbal skirmishes - you won't call this dialogue - from a certain point became an integral part of passtime. It was even admirable.

More precisely, you admired how he won this "part". He was almost the very first to greet you every now and then. If he did not come to wish you a good day in person, then in some unknown way a note was always found in your bag, doing this for him. After weighing the pros and cons, you just gave him your phone number. You'd rather let him text you than scare the hell out of you by sending arrows. Real arrows.

"Bonne journée, the light of my eyes!" You stopped, silently cursing your own luck or lack of it. You glanced over your shoulder and went back to sorting the printouts. "All at work despite the early hour. I would be honored to share your burden-"

"I didn't ask you to do so", you interrupted him, mentally adding 'and I won't ever ask'.

However, this did not stop him, because in the next moment he was already standing next to you with unchanging, so annoying smile. Looking at how quickly he gets the job done - much faster and more accurate than you - you couldn't help but sigh.

From fatigue? Or envy?

You couldn't define exactly what you felt at that moment. It was just easier with Rook to give up and let him do whatever he liked. Of course, as long as he didn't cross the line. You were looking forward to him making a mistake, a reckless move, but they don't appoint just anyone as Pomefiore's vice-leader. He played on the nerves, but never allowed himself too much.

He was exactly like image you drew in your head: based on your own and other people's opinions. However, every day it became more and more difficult to deny the fact that the idea of him was slowly changing. As well as your attitude towards him.

That's why you allowed yourself to join the game, that he led so diligently. Not long, just a little bit. Moreover, the blonde, humming to himself and clearly enjoying your company, did not need to know about this.

[scoopertrouper]

If you’re still taking Stancy prompts, Nancy wondering what Steve is up to while they keep their distance in s3 is always my jam. Love love love your Nancy and Steve.

my first prompt fill!

i have to be honest, i don’t know if this is really what you were looking for? like, i admit there’s altogether more jonathan than probably anyone wants to see. but alas, i banged this out in like four hours last night and this is where my brainworm took me. thanks for prompting!

also, if you want to get a more exact idea of the kind of headspace i was in writing this, you’ll just want to listen to tswift’s death by a thousand cuts on one long, endless loop.

2,200-ish words under the cut.

-*-*-*

the only thing we share [is this small town]

She sees him sometimes. 

Not on purpose. Definitely not on purpose, but Hawkins has a population smaller than the enrollments of some state colleges. It’s kind of inevitable that their paths will cross more than occasionally.

And it’s not that Nancy's avoiding him, exactly. It’s more that every time she gets a glance at him even in passing, it’s impossible not to recall the sad way he’d stared down at her the last time they’d really spoken to each other, resigned to an outcome she wasn’t even sure she herself had reconciled with yet.

It doesn’t make her feel good, and after the past year, she’s more than sick of seeking out reasons to feel bad. 

So she doesn’t avoid him, but she also doesn’t not hide behind aisles in Melvald’s when she sees him pass by. And if they happen to be walking along the same side of Main Street at the same time, it just so happens that she’ll remember several urgent reasons why she needs to cross the road right away.

But that’s not avoiding. It can’t be, because Nancy doesn’t avoid. She barrels, head on, right into even the most fraught situations, because at the end of the day she has nothing without her resolute confidence in the fact that she is right.

She is right, and nothing – not Department of Energy hacks, nor the assholes at the Hawkins Post who make a sport of changing up their sandwich orders and the way they take their coffee every other day (“See if you can solve this, Nancy Drew…”) – can shake that certainty.

(Except sometimes – sometimes/especially when she sees Steve – a creeping sense of wrong begins to slither its way in, wraps icy tendrils of doubt around her carefully guarded resolve and squeezes. Hard.

But before it can do too much damage, before it can cause the kinds of hairline fissures that turn into cracks that end in endless interdimensional bloodshed, she turns away. Takes Jonathan’s hand, and looks into his eyes, and remembers why they’re the only two people in the world who could possibly get each other. Even when she can’t understand why he hovers in uncomfortable silence while those dickheads laugh at her. Even when he doesn’t get why she just can’t stop pushing, because a job’s a job and maybe if she let up a little they wouldn’t laugh at her so much.

None of that matters, because she and Jonathan…they just make sense. The photographer and the journalist. Shared goals. Shared trauma. Right? Right. 

And so the ground steadies beneath her feet, and her breathing eases, and she sinks back into the safe surety of her belief.)

Most of the time, not-avoiding-Steve also facilitates not-thinking-about-Steve, which is easier now that he hasn’t been around town much lately. She’d heard via the grapevine – amid some derisive tittering that had irked her for reasons she preferred not to examine – that he’d gotten a job at the ice cream parlor at Starcourt, and that he wasn’t headed to college after the summer was over, because he didn’t get into a single school, can you believe it?

The guilt was suffocating. She puts it out of her mind.

So it’s a blessing in disguise that Jonathan’s aversion to crowds and hypercommercialism means that Nancy hasn’t spent as much time at Starcourt as she’d planned to once she heard they were putting in a Gap. Because less time at Starcourt meant less time not-avoiding Steve (and less time – and money – spent stress shopping).

In fact, Nancy’s been lured into such a false sense of security that she never sees the stupid commercial coming.

It’s evening, and still boiling outside, and she and Jonathan are languishing on his beat-up couch after a long day spent toiling in the darkroom (him) and chasing down a specific kind of pastrami on rye with grain mustard available only from the sole deli in Hawkins, which just happens to be about as far across town as you can get on foot (her, of course).

Nancy is the kind of mentally exhausted that means that while she’s valiantly trying to pay attention to CBS Evening News (she likes to flip back and forth between all the major network shows), she’s actually staring off into space as Dan Rather covers a TWA flight hijacking that she knows she should care more about.

The jingle of the commercial doesn’t even penetrate the fog until Jonathan scoffs.

“Christ,” he mumbles. “They’re still playing this shit on TV?”

“Huh?” Nancy grunts before she can stop herself, rousing from her stupor. (It’s only now that she realizes she’s been doodling daisies where she usually takes careful notes on each story’s lead-in.)

“The Starcourt commercial,” Jonathan says, nudging her with his shoulder. “It’s been open for, like, a month. When’re they gonna give it a rest?” 

“Oh.” Nancy gets with the program, and laughs perfunctorily at the cheesy stock footage that’s eaten more airtime over the past six months than she’d ever thought city council would have the budget for. (Huh. Maybe there’s a story there.) “I kind of forgot about it.”

“Maybe…we could check it out soon,” Jonathan says, eyeing her almost cautiously. “See if it’s as awful as it looks.”

Nancy does a double-take before she can stop herself.

“You said it’d take a literal alien invasion to get you to set foot inside that mall.” And with the bizarro turn their lives have taken over the past year, she can’t be entirely certain he’d been joking.

Jonathan shifts, and scratches the back of his head.

“Well – they do have a bookstore,” he says, defensive. “And, like, I know this internship hasn’t been what you were hoping, so it might be nice to –” His jaw drops before he can finish the thought. “Holy shit, is that Steve Harrington?”

Nancy’s head whips around so fast she almost hears a crack. And yeah, that is Steve Harrington. In vivid technicolor, standing behind a cash register next to a vaguely familiar-looking redhead with a tousled bob – Nancy’s pretty sure she’s seen her around school before.

She recognizes the discomfort in his face all too well – it had stared across the table at her every time she’d tried to quiz him on SAT vocabulary words last summer. 

Only then, he hadn’t been wearing a hideous polyester sailor costume.

“That’s new,” Jonathan says, the ill-disguised laughter in his voice so uncharacteristic that Nancy’s head whips back around again. She’s going to need a chiropractor by the time this commercial ends. “I guess we definitely gotta check out Starcourt now.”

She rolls her eyes, and relaxes the fist she’d clenched around her pencil during the seven seconds – max – that Steve had been on screen. Jonathan doesn’t seem to have noticed her tension, and she’s grateful.

“What’s so interesting about watching Steve scoop overpriced ice cream?” she deflects skeptically, sinking further into the couch, wincing as she hits a spring. Now Jonathan’s the one who double-takes.

“Um. Nancy. It’s King Steve.” She doesn’t love the way he says that. “Dressed like a stand-in for The Village People. Slinging banana splits. What isn’t interesting about that?”

“It’s just a job,” Nancy retorts, face heating. “D’you think it’s funny that I run around buying lunch and pouring coffee for a bunch of dipshits who wouldn’t know a good above-the-fold if it hit them with a two-by-four?”

“Of course not, Jesus!” Jonathan sputters helplessly, shoulders hiking up to his ears. “I just meant – I didn’t – of course I don’t think that’s funny.” His mouth flattens. “I think it’s really shitty. You’re right, I shouldn’t make fun of anyone’s job. We don’t have to go to Starcourt. I just thought it’d be something we could do together.”

He looks deflated, and all at once, Nancy feels like shit. Jonathan was so serious all the time, and usually she liked when he let that go a little bit and dropped his guard. But she’s ruined it by getting defensive, and she doesn't even totally understand why.

“No, I’m sorry,” she backtracks, grabbing his hand and linking their fingers. It’s warm, as familiar as her own at this point. “It’s just…been a shit day. I overreacted.” She just has to work harder. Make them see how serious she is about this. Make them see how good she is at this.

All at once, she’s acutely ashamed of how lax and distracted she’s been, scrawling stupid pictures all over her notepad when she should be working. Improving her craft. Showing everyone that she belongs in that newsroom. Showing them that she’s right.

In return, Jonathan’s smile is strained, but it seems genuine enough. He squeezes her hand, with a strength that still surprises her sometimes.

“Things’ll get better. You’ll see. You’re brilliant. They’ll figure it out. Eventually.” He ducks his head, then looks up again, a little more relaxed. “Speaking of ice cream…I think Mom brought some Rocky Road home last night. Two spoons?”

Nancy nods, accepting the peace offering for what it is (even though she prefers strawberry).

“Yeah…that sounds good.” He leaves to clatter around in the kitchen, and she turns back to the TV, suppressing the urge to chew on the end of her pencil (what serious journalist walks around with bit-up erasers?).

Against her will, Steve’s face plays on a rewind loop in her mind’s eye.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but he’d looked miserable, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t stage fright (he used to preen whenever the yearbook photographers were in his general vicinity. It was equal parts endearing and annoying).

Had he really not gotten into any colleges? (None of her business.) His dad probably hadn’t taken that well. (Really none of her business.) 

She should’ve tried to help him more, after the whole…incident. He’d been insanely concussed, and that couldn’t have helped with the whole college essays and applications thing. He’d already been having a hard enough time with it all.

But what could she have done? The thing with Jonathan had been so new, and every time she chanced a look at Steve, he was already staring back, hurt scrawled plainly all over his face.

It would be better now, though, right? A lot of time has passed. She’s firmly settled into her new relationship, and Steve is – Steve knows how to rebound. He’s always been good at that, on the court and in life.

Maybe she should go visit him. Not – not to laugh at him, but just to see how he’s doing.

Would that girl be there? The coworker? She’s cute, in a “probably listens to too much Depeche Mode” kind of way. So not Steve’s type. (Nancy, why would that matter?) 

But they had been standing kind of close in the commercial. Maybe they’re friends?

Nancy snorts. Steve didn’t have female friends, except for maybe Carol, and that was mostly vis a vis that shit-for-brains Tommy. In fact, after he cut the two of them out, Steve didn’t seem to have many real friends. Or any. At all. He’d focused all his attentions on Nancy.

She swallows past the tightness in her throat. Anyway. This girl. Definitely – definitely not a friend. Maybe a friendly coworker. Or…

Nancy glares at the whites of her knuckles. None of her business. 

It really isn’t. After all, she has Jonathan, and Steve has, well…whoever he wants, really. That’s never been an issue for him, not even after he’d been officially “dethroned”. Girls still lined up at his locker for crumbs of his attention, right smack dab where Nancy used to wait for him in between classes. She assumes that in that regard, not much has changed besides the venue.

In fact, she can see it pretty clearly: Steve, raking a hand through his thick hair every time a pretty girl happens to make her way into Scoops Ahoy. Drumming deft fingers against the glass of the freezer. Handing out free scoops of ice cream like they’re not gonna eventually come out of his check.

Suggesting that they stick around until he’s off-shift so they can catch a movie or – or – something else.

The pencil snaps. Startled, she stares down at her hand, where the two jagged pieces haphazardly dangle, connected by little more than a few bare slivers of wood. What the fuck?

She’s got pretty much no time to figure out what the hell just happened, though, because Jonathan picks that moment to come back into the living room, a carton with two spoons balanced in his grip.

“Sorry that took a sec,” he apologizes, and  Nancy shoves the pencil’s remains in between the couch cushions before he can notice. “Will left eggs in the pan again, and I told him he’s gotta wash them out, like, right away or it’s a pain in the ass to scrub them off later –”

“It’s okay,” Nancy cuts in, unsettled by the stinging in her palm as he flops back down beside her. Despite the heat, he curls an arm around her shoulders. It’s light, and wiry, and she tells herself she prefers it that way.

“Dan’s kind of boring tonight,” Jonathan tuts, leaning back. “Wanna see what Tom’s up to?”

Nancy nods, curling into his side and scooping a spoonful of ice cream out of the container crammed between them. It’s creamy, and deliciously sweet on her tongue.

It’s just right.

(It has to be.)

[dkakapizzaboy]

1:30pm

Category: Fluff (au!office setting!)

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

Trope: College Rivals Reunited!

Words: 590

Warnings: None I think (please lmk if otherwise!)

A/N: Inspired by the ever so competitive coups we saw in e- triathlon GoSe

As usual, there is no power dynamic, both characters are at the same office level :)

Feedback always helps!

You were really happy when your manager told you that they had hired another person to take off some of your ever increasing workload. He informed you, however, that you'll have to train him for the coming couple of months as his previous company followed different accounting rules than yours so he'll need some help at the start. Your company had just acquired another business. Auditing one company 's books was difficult enough but as your company started expanding through acquisitions, the workload had increased tremendously. So you were really happy with the new hire, because this meant you'll probably start to get off at more reasonable hours soon.

"Funnily enough, he went to the same university as you," your manager mentioned offhandedly.

You thought it would probably someone from a different class but alas, when were gods ever in your favour.

Choi Seungcheol walked in confidently, in a navy blue suit and a deep maroon tie, hair parted sideways.

"Hi, the HR told me you wanted to see me before I start tomorrow." He shook your manager's hand firmly and then turned to you with the intention of shaking your hand as well, didn't really expecting to see a familiar face.

You and Seungcheol were both in the same class. Number 1 and Number 1. Rivals to death. Both of you had topped consistently throughout the semesters, and every time you tied, you'd both feel a tinge of disappointment since you couldn't best the other one. After college, Seungcheol had taken a job abroad, wanting to explore the world whereas you ended up in the top firm of your country.

And now here he stood, in all his suave, time working in his favour as even years later, he only looked more handsome(god really was in his favor).

You plastered the nicest smile you could muster as you greeted him.

"Hi Seungcheol, long time. Didn't know you were back in the country."

Seungcheol couldn't believe his eyes. You were here, in the flesh, his arch rival. He had to admit, over the years abroad, he had gotten bored, with not much competition in the workplace. He used to reminisce the times where he had to pull all nighters and strategically plan his schedule so that you don't leave him behind. He also sometimes remembered some of your bickering fondly , like the time after the last semester ended and you were both in a party, playing beer pong and you were sure he was cheating (it was his teammate Jeonghan actually, so technically he didn't cheat). He had found you so hot that day, clad in a black dress and getting closer and closer to him as you argued. In the end, you had received a call and the argument had ended there, and that was the last time you both saw each other until today.

You explained to your manager how you knew Seungcheol from back in the day as you proceeded to shake his hand, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Great! Then maybe you should join us too, I'm taking him to lunch to welcome him in our team" you manager invited.

"Absolutely sir, never one to refuse free lunch", you joked.

Your manager went to his office to gather his things while you and Seungcheol waited for him as you put your coat back on and took out your purse from the drawer.

"I'll be your trainer for the next couple of months, try not slowing me down too much", you warned, with a fake sweet smile.

Oh how much Seungcheol had missed this fire!

He smirked. The game was on.

[imaginespazzi]

Nivi – hey bestie, you’ve done it again – I wasn’t sure it could get more heartbreaking than the last one and yet!

As always, the writing is- well, it’s everything.

The parallels between high school them and college them was immaculate, and I so wish Paige could have fulfilled her dream of kissing Azzi under the confetti, but alas, maybe in another universe 😉

I loved the little exchange about UConn and California, and how that possibility was always there but Paige could just never accept it.

P and UConn winning the natty this year – it had to happen in at least one universe, so thank you for letting it happen in this one.

Side note: Drew and Paige interactions are always top tier, and very much the type of momentary fluff that I needed to break up the sadness while reading.

Side note 2: I love that I don’t even need to imagine what Azzi wearing Paige’s jersey would look like, but I’m glad ucla au Paige got to experience it too 🥹

The celebration with the team was so cute and of course it would be KK that basically helps break the ice (and her lil innocent “you should bring her around more often” 🥺). Also, all the little moments Az got with everyone else in the team was so wholesome, and ofc queen Nika being a loveable menace who’s always just looking out for her twin.

Side note 3: I love love love the two piggyback moments haha, just because that’s so pazzi core to me idk, I feel like there’s been a lot of photos where Azzi is piggybacking Paige irl, like that’s very much their thing so I adored seeing it incorporated here. But then, the ending. I knew it was coming, but it certainly did not make it hurt any less when we got there. “Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.” “That’s more your style,” Azzi says – this was particularly heartbreaking, but I can’t really blame Azzi, even if P is trying so hard to make things right.

Overall, I may or may not have been tearing up throughout the entire chapter, and it somehow hit me even harder the second time I read through it? I think that’s just testament to your writing tbh.

Thoughts on what’s next:

Do things finally start getting better? It can’t get any worse, can it? (famous last words) 😅

I did wonder actually, whether you’d have them win or lose the natty, only because if they did win which obviously they did here (thank you), could that maybe change P’s mind at all on declaring or not?

I’m guessing she obviously sticks to her og decision and stays, and so I’m super intrigued on what might come next for them.

Like will they try going back to being just friends? Even though they’ve already tried and failed and knowing that would never be enough for Paige. But can they really not be in each other’s lives??

Will they try seeing other people again??

Summer’s coming up in the timeline and they’ve never spent an entire summer apart, so what will they do this summer? 😔 Or will we have a big time jump?

So many questions, and only you have the answers, Nivi.

Favourite lines/quotes:

The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful

“Do you know what my answer would have been?” “Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”

Alternate lyrics that came to mind while reading:

Talk about our future like we had a clue. Never planned that one day, I'd be losing you.

In another life, I would be your girl. We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world.

Oh, and in honour of your love for Taylor, a Taylor lyric that came to mind was specifically this:

And I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home - mainly from the perspective of Paige getting almost everything she’s ever wanted, except the thing she wants most.

PS: I don’t really listen to Taylor’s music much anymore (nothing negative, just a shift in my music tastes these past couple of years!), but if there’s anything you think I should definitely give a listen to from her latest album, let me know!

As always, thank you for all you do for us. Have a wonderful weekend 💗

Much love, -🙋‍♀️

Hi bestie, one thing about me is that I will find a way to make it worse! 🤪

Thank you my sweets, it always means the world <3

I'm glad you caught that because I wanted to hint at the idea that it wasn't just a random decision of Azzi's part to choose UCLA and that she'd always been considering it.

If I can add Drew and Paige interactions, best believe I will find a way to do it. That's another relationship that's so precious to me.

Shoutout to the one anon who asked for Azzi to wear Paige's jersey in the universe as well because I took that and ran with it so I hope they liked it, because I liked their idea (come say hi!)

The team scene was one my favorites to write honestly, especially just in general KK is so fun to write because she's so fun and I need my chaotic family (Paige-Azzi-KK-Ice) to be a thing in every universe.

YES the piggybacks are just so Pazzi-core and I know this is an au but I like to take things from what we already know about them and just tweak it to keep some semblance of realism. Also piggyback are just really cute and Paige seems like the kind to beg literally anyone to carry her anyways

Things will get better because I actually don't know if they can get worse (actually they probably could but it might be hard to come back from lol) but things getting better is gonna take a lot

See if Paige changes her mind and declares, things become easy for them with her going to LA and I'm not in the business of making things easy for them lol

You think I have the answer to these question but truly what I write is just as much a mystery of where my inspiration will take to me as it is to you. So we'll see but we're on the ascent upwards, so no more other people lol!

I LOVE THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY SO MUCH!!

As for Taylor, the new album's pretty good babes if you wanna go listen! Lowkey a lot of the songs work pretty well with this fic lmao. But my favorites are loml and Fortnight I think.

Always love your detailed takes on the new parts and just seeing you in my inbox always makes me smile <3

[that-one-anxious-mango]

For the Drabble event would you be willing to do the first I love you? I love your writing.

                    As We Grow 

Summary: About how Austin and his best girl said those magical three letter words to one another. Plus the origin of their famous catch phrase.

Contents: MAXIMUM FLUFF. Mentions of past trauma. Gooey feelings. Sleepy Magnus. Crying. Awesome Austin (per usual)

A/N: Hi Beautiful Humans! How are you all? Ugh I missed you! Alas, I’ve been trapped in the claws of college. BUT, since I’m on break and writing up a storm I will try and get out as much as I can while I’m off, and also write some things I can put on auto fill when things get crazy.

I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday. To the Anon who suggested this sorry about the wait babe. AND to any one else who requested something I’m working on it babes. BARE WITH ME.

Any who please enjoy the fic!

P.S Everyone feel free to PLEASE comment and reblog. Also send me letters with ideas and prompts. Love hearing from you all! Much Love! *hugs*

                                              _______

You were sitting on your couch writing in your black leather planner, in it was your to-do list of all the mundane things that needed to be done in the upcoming week.

It had proven to be quite effective and useful in helping you to manage the events and such that went on in your semi-chaotic life.

And as old as you felt admitting that you had a planner in the first place, you felt even more old due to your current choice of outfit and music.

Sitting in your large house pink house dress with matching pink house slippers. Your hair was wrapped up in a silk headscarf and clear kitten framed glasses adorned your face.

In the background, the R & B station on Spotify played Saving all my love from the Whitney Houston album, while the scent of lavender and eucalyptus essential oils filled the air.

It was Sunday which meant self-care and a little bit of life management. Today you'd woken up and gotten brunch with Phoebe, Alex, Alana, and Beatrice. After you and a eager Magnus went to the Totem to go and browse, which you ended up buying a book for yourself and bought two books for Austin. Then you treated yourself to a nice hot shower and a full head to toe skin care routine.

 And now you were where you were.

Earlier in the day Austin had texted you to let you know that he probably wasn't going to be able to come over to watch re-runs of Grey's Anatomy while eating take out Thai-food like the two of you had originally planned. And even though you were disappointed a bit.

You understood.

Every since the two of you had started dating about three months ago, you understood that there were some days and times that you unfortunately may not hear from Austin due to him immersing himself into his work and preparation for Elvis. It's something he'd been upfront about in the beginning of your relationship, about how the process of him doing this role wouldn't exactly mean it would be a cakewalk for you guys. But within being a creative yourself mixed with the rather intense feelings you felt for Austin, you decided that you'd be in this for the long haul as long as you could be.

In the middle of Wednesday's list you heard the buzzer ring.

Frowning in confusion you got up, being followed by the patters of your scary purple onesie dressed guard dog, Magnus.

You weren't expecting anyone.

Going to the intercom you pressed the button speaking, " Yes? "

" Delivery for the most beautiful girl in the world." The voice familiar voice hummed through the box. The bright smile that invaded your face was wide and the involuntary skips that your heart did paired well with the warmth that filled you body.

Deciding to be a tease you replied, " I'm sorry but I think you have the wrong place. Have you tried apartment 3A. The young lady that lives there is quite beautiful and very stylish so it seems." You joked referring to your downstairs neighbor, Gladys Reed, who was a older lady that you'd befriended after a creepy encounter with another neighbor of yours. She was sweet and always looked out for you. She also always complimented you and Austin whenever she seen the two of you.

And you know what they say about an elder approving of a couple. 

It's good luck.

" Well. As beautiful as she is and as nice as that vintage Chanel may look, between me and you I think I you got her beat, baby. All seven days a week and twenty four hours in the day." He chuckled back, " Now let me up so I can see that beautiful face."

Giggling to yourself in glee, a short, " Okay." Squeaked out,  hitting the button that allowed Austin in.

It was only a matter of seconds before the knock on the door came and you ripped it open practically launching yourself into Austin's arms who was quick to sit down whatever was in his hands and happily catch you, securing his hands under your ass to hold you up. You both spoke quick little hi and hellos before you sealed your lips on his.

A fat wet kiss was placed on his lips followed by the depth he poured into it and the move to push the two of you up against a nearby wall, while he let his tongue nudged at the bottom of your lip until you let him in. Tiny moans could now be heard from you that resulted in the grip he had to your ass tightening.

With the door still wide open you could feel things heating up in many different places. Only the small thunderous barks and incessant feeling of paws hitting yours and Austin's legs pulled the two of you away.

Separating you smiled down at Magnus along with Austin who greeted him, cheeks red with embarrassment, " Hey Mags. Sorry man didn't see you there. What's up." He offered slowly setting you back down. Earning a enthused bark of a response, Austin laughed before turning his attention back to you.

" Well I guess you really are trying to compete with Miss Gladys. Huh, baby." He commented as his eyes raked you up and down.

Truth be told he thought you looked quite good. Like someone's fine wife...or mother. The last half of his thought made his chest flutter, because if things kept going the way they were he could see all those things down the line for you two.

Instantly beginning to feel self conscious you quickly offered to go and change into something more age appropriate and appealing. But your efforts were halted, " Uh uh, no. You seem cozy and comfortable, babe. Which makes me feel comfortable and cozy. You look good." He reassured leaning down to peck your lips before smirking, " Sexy even. Besides, long time ago I used to have a thing for older woman, so this might be doing it for me a little bit." He wiggled his eyebrows at your causing the two of you to begin a laughing.

Cheeks heating up you had to remember the spark of curiosity you had when he came in, so you asked, " So, Mr. Delivery man what'd you bring me? "

Looking at you he motioned with his head to follow his gaze to the wall by door and down. And when you looked you seen the pretty medium sized plant in a brown pot with a nicely tied pink ribbon around it sitting on the floor.

Your face scrunched in thoughts and nerves, " Babe, what is this? You know that I don't have a green thumb. At all." You reminded.

And it was true, every plant you'd gotten over you lifetime had always ended up the same way. Dead.

Even the Cacti you'd tried to take care of had found themselves being welcomed into the glory place where all the rest of your plants rested, otherwise known as the trash.

         Like you literally watered a cactus like once...maybe twice a month. So it astonishing to you how you managed to keep a puppy alive ... and not a plant.

" This..", Austin went over and scooped up the plant in hands bringing it over to you, " is our love fern." He stated holding it out.

Taking it cautiously, you bafflingly looked between the nice sized plant and Austin sheepishly smiling," Our..love...fern." You parroted looking at the amused face Austin held.

He nodded, " Yeah, baby. It's our love fern. I got it because you said you wanted one last week when we were watching that Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson movie."  He reminded you of the little comment you'd made when the two of you had been snuggled up watching How to lose a guy in ten days.

Then light bulb went off in your head and your eyes widen in playful disbelief,     " BABE! I WAS JOKING! You didn't have to actually go out and bring a poor plant back here to practically sentence to death." " You gawked at him laughing.

" We'll I'm not. There are two reasons why I bought this lovely thing . First, because although I know that you, my love. Are no Mother Nature, I have a pretty good track record of being able to keep plants alive. And I figured that if you have it here at your place, then I'll have a absolute reason and responsibility to come and see you and Magnus at least twice a week. Plus I'll teach you how to care for it when I'm not here, honey." He explained glancing over to the puppy who was enjoying himself on the couch happily lounging on your abandoned blanket.

When your eyes met his again you noticed how serious his face had turned. They captured yours in trance making sure there was no where else for you to look, " And the second and most important reason I bought the plant is because.." He started, using a hand to grab both of yours. He secured them ontop of his own hands that rested on the pot. You unconsciously squeezed them making sure that you had a firm clutch as the two of you held up the pot together.

" I also bought this plant because, I love you. I love you Y/N L/N. So much. That's something I've been wanting to tell you since I met you three months ago. And as this plant will surely grow everyday...so will the love that you and I have for each other. " He paused, " That's if you feel the same way of course." His eyes looked hopeful and pleading at the same time. Like his whole entire being was resting on what'd you say next.

And unbeknownst to you....it kinda did.

By now the waterline in your eyes was threatening to spill and this overwhelming mixture of joy and fear overtook your body all at once. Joyful that the man that you did in-fact love, loved you too. But fearful that while, yes, he did love you, for how long?  How long would he love and enjoy you before he decided that he was done and ready to leave like so many other people in your life had.

 Pulling you out of your thoughts Austin had moved to take the plant out of both  your hands and set it down on the floor next to you. Moving in closer he held your face in his hands gently lifting your head positioned to the floor, up to look at him.

As soon as your eyes locked the tears started flowing and you couldn't hold it anymore, " I love you too Austin. I-I really do." You almost whispered, the worry on his face seemed to only half melt when he seen that you weren't done with your proclamation, " But I'm scared. " You confessed.

His voice was soft in concern, " Scared of what, baby?"

His attentive tone made you feel even worst and you began crying a bit harder causing him to coo pulling you into his chest, resting his chin lightly on your head while soothingly rubbing your back. " You're okay, mama. You're alright. Just Breathe." He affirmed helping you along.

It seemed like the two of you stayed like that, forever in the moment.

Him basking in the feeling of you against him, and you relishing in the music that was the beat of his heart. You had slowed your breathing down to match it. 

It wasn't until you had pulled it together and found the strength to just be honest and say what you needed to say, " I'm afraid that you'll love me for as long as you want and then leave me once you get however and whatever you need. Or find somebody new. I'm not saying that you would do something like that, Austin. But you're not the first person to say those three words to me, and then utter the other two. Good bye."

Sighing, he hated hearing that this was even a doubt in your mind. Not because he was offended or he thought you didn't trust him, but because it made him upset that people in your past hadn't had the courage or god given common sense to take care and cherish you, like he planned to.

So in comfort he posed his own question, " What if you decided to do the same thing? If you find some other guys that could fulfill your needs of cuddles, tacos, and bookkeeping? Huh? What would happen then?" He asked.

Without hesitation you went, " Austin I would never, ever, EVER. Leave you for someone else you know that." You sniffled.

Tenderly pulling you closer he responded, " And just how you would never, I would never. I know that others haven't treated you the way they should have. But baby I am here to stay as long as you want me. And if that just so happens to be forever. Then dammit,  you better believe I'll love you forever and always. " He stopped chuckling a bit, " Hell, I might just follow you into the beyond, baby. And love on you there."

His comments laugh. He made you feel so at peace and loved. You felt warm inside and outside of your body.

Pulling away you went to look at his face which his instinctively reached out and wiped some stray tears off of your face,  offering a somber smile, " Well okay then. Let's do it. I'll love you Austin Butler. Forever, always and beyond." You affirmed smiling.

Nodding in excitement he said, " And I too will love you Y/N Y/L/N. Forever, Always and Beyond. No matter what." He concluded swooping you in for a kiss that tasted salty by the mixture of your tears and some of his. The two of you had kissed plenty of times now, but with each kiss still came that gooey feeling. And you never wanted to let it go anywhere.

Minutes whirled by you two being wrapped in each other before Austin was picking up the plant to try and help you find the best place for it.

Deciding that it'd thrive best in your bedroom window where it was in line of direct sunlight and your eyesight. You now lied snuggled up with Austin's arms securely wrapped around your body while he big spooned, and felt the little movements Magnus made in his sleep from his position at the foot of your bed.

Together the two of you watched the sun say it's goodnight and moon say hello when Austin made a comment in your ear, " Now, baby. No matter what happens. You have absolutely got to remember to help keep our love fern alive. I mean it, now. Don’t let our love fern die." He warned kissing the shell of your ear.

Just then a corny reference to the movie popped in your head and you couldn't resist, " But, honey. What if it decides it wants to go to sleep? " You teased.

Chuckling along he responded with a, " Absolutely not."

                                             ---------

              * Reference from Movie :) * 

[thesunlikehoney]

Miscellaneous Tag Game

thank you so much for the tag @searchingfortheuniverse!!!

A band you don’t like that many others do:

I don't like a ton of bands/artists specifically, the only band off the top of my head I would say I like that I have heard other people say they don't is AJR.

A childhood memory that you remember vividly:

I remember we had a stump that was pretty wide and flat in our yard I would get dressed up and have tea parties out there with my little siblings. I remember the dress I used to wear and the texture of the stump and the breeze on my face and the pink of my teacups.

Least favorite animal and why:

After spending a few years in proximity with my brothers ferrets I can safely say I will never own one myself.

Hot fandom take:

"the Jedi are the good guys" and "the Jedi did not do right by the clones" are not mutually exclusive statements.

Do you wear any jewelry, if so, what’s your favorite piece:

Sometimes! I wear earrings mostly, but recently a friend made me a bead bracelet spelling out "independent variables" and it is my most treasured possession.

A movie others liked but you didn’t:

Can't think of one off the top of my head. I don't watch a love of TV/movies so I usually make sure I'm gonna like it before I start it.

Three things you love about yourself:

My hair, my writing style, my... ability to be chill? Idk, I am very hard to phase and that makes me handy in an emergency.

A place you hope to visit in the future and why:

England, to visit my Great Aunt's grave.

An actor that gets on your nerves and why:

The lady who teaches the acting classes at my college. Thank you for ensuring I drop my plans to get a theater minor by committing to the "Theater Is A Serious Art Form For Serious People" take. Worst take of all time thank you.

Things you’re excited for in the nearby future?

Being caught up on my homework :' )

OH. Finally posting the three fics for various events/a zine that I've just been sitting on for months!!!

Least favorite ship in a fandom you’re in:

There are ships that annoy me more in theory but the ship that has annoyed me the most in practice is codywan. I'm sorry. But alas. Something something bigger shipping base = more annoying people.

What’s the most toxic fandom you’ve been in?

Star Wars hands down, lmao.

List three things you find beautiful about life:

Nature. The sun specifically, and just. Light. I will never get over light. My friends and family, loving them and being loved by them. Stories in all their forms and functions.

Any dreams for the future?

I graduate in three months and right now. If I can hang in there for these next three months I honestly do not care what happens afterwards T-T

How are you really feeling today?

Tired, but hopeful. I am finally getting into a rhythm with work/school/friends, and it's such a relief, and I think in another week or two I might be able to relax for real <3

Man that was a long one but also good for self reflection XD

No pressure tags @swonkohwenoeht @jaggedstartalk @ivvmell @plainshobbit @i-will-bite @corvod @hikime @battlekilt @solipseismic @beeseverywhen and anybody who wants to!