#[i did write them as kind of sort of just a little tipsy here but that's probably not the reason they're here]

[yaksha-garden]

005. a private jet miles high in the sky . - with gideon

The engine droned in Eden's bones and head. The solid ground beneath their feet was deceptive, like the rocking deck of a boat on the sea, but that would have been almost comforting honestly. Not like this.

Even the dim light of the cabin, illuminating Gideon's form, even the glint of a glass bottle, it all seemed to prick their eyes through to the brain. Something about the light, or maybe thin air, or maybe the little sickness they couldn't place made him look even more... strange? Eden wasn't sure they'd describe him as uncanny, but he seemed like he didn't quite belong to the Earth they knew for reasons they'd misplaced.

(And now they weren't really on Earth anymore. Maybe he'd be more honest up here.)

"...where are we now?" they asked. What country or region are we in?, they meant. Did countries even matter this high up? Did geography matter? Eden never thought they'd go higher than the mountains. They thought the Heavens would be up here.

[therealcocoshady]

Come inside

Eminem x Assistant!Reader

Author's note : so, funny thing... I got this request I really like and started writing to it. But I realized I needed to give it some sort of prequel, just to set context, y'know ? Long story short, I wrote something rather long and I could have waited until the whole thing was complete to post it on here, but I'm a really nice person and I thought you guys would enjoy it 😉. Stay tuned for part 2 !

CW : Implied smut but nothing NSFW. Tipsy reader. Marshall being a consent king. Coco pouring all of her energy into describing a kiss.

When you started working for Marshall, you had immediately developed a crush. How could you not ? Your boss was not only talented, he was also handsome, kind and funny as hell. You had a blast working for him and, even though being a personal assistant to a celebrity had never been your dream job, it sort of turned into it. Only a fool would complain about being paid to hang out with a talented musician, helping them managing their day to day life and enjoying a lot of perks, such as trips and occasional presents. Sure, the job was demanding and didn’t really leave a lot of room for personal life, but your boss definitely made up for that. It all started during a work trip to Los Angeles. 

You had been working for Marshall for a little over a year and you were used to trips to California. He often went there, whether it was to work with Dre or to meet with people from Interscope. It was often the same song and dance : you did the coordination for the trip, took care of the day to day management of his schedule and, while he was busy making music in Dre’s studio, you were on call but allowed to do whatever you wanted. You had heard a lot about celebrities that demanded that their assistant be with them at all time, ready to indulge their every whims but Marshall was pretty low-maintenance, especially when he was in studio mode. As long as the his schedule was coordinated correctly and his lunch was delivered on time, he didn’t care what you did or how you chose to spend the day. You actually came to enjoy the work trips to California, which were less hectic than life in Detroit. You got to sleep in a comfy suite in a nice hotel, go to the beach, lounge by the pool, answering the occasional email while your boss was in the studio. All you had to do was meet him in the morning for breakfast, keep him informed of his daily schedule before he went about his day, be available if he needed to call you to sort something out (he never did), and join him for dinner, either at the hotel’s restaurant, in his room or at Dre’s. You also went with him to a couple of parties. At first, you didn’t think you would enjoy the events and attended them in a strictly professional capacity, but as time went on and you got to know Dre and his team, you let your hair down and allowed yourself to have fun. Everyone in the Aftermath family was friendly and the parties were always really great. During one of them, preceding the launch of Gin&Juice, you were offered the opportunity to sample taste the flavors and, one thing leading to another, you ended up indulging in gin-based cocktails with everyone. Being a lightweight when it comes to drinking and handling your liquor, it didn’t take too much for you to be tipsy, showing your boss a side of you he had never seen. 

While the two of you had always gotten along very well and had a friendly relationship, you usually kept things on the professional side. Due to the nature of your job, you knew a lot about him and his personal life but you didn’t share too much about yours and, since he was very respectful of people’s wish for privacy, he definitely didn’t pry or ask too many questions. However, the liquor had you being a little more talkative and, on the way back to your hotel rooms, you ended up opening up. You weren’t too sure how the subject turned to your love life, but you certainly ended up laughing out loud when he brought up the topic of boyfriends. 

What’s so funny ? He asked with a confused look on his face. 

That you think I have boyfriends, you chortled. That’s… hilarious. 

Sorry, he chuckled. Girlfriends, then ? 

What I mean is that being your assistant doesn’t exactly make dating easy, you explained with a smile. You’re a great boss but, believe it or not, you’re the biggest cockblock ! 

Am I ? He chortled. 

Oh yeah, you giggled. Apparently, not a lot of guys are willing to accommodate that kind of schedule. And the ones that do usually end up blowing it when they find out I work for you. 

Do they ? He mused. 

Are you kidding ?! It’s a nightmare ! Last guy I dated was great. But when he found out I work for you, he absolutely lost it ! You chuckled. He was absolutely obsessed and he spent all night asking questions about you and was pissed when I told him I wasn’t allowed to answer any of them. And don’t get me started on the guy who went on a rant about how he’d never trust me, since I work for a « sexy millionnaire ». His words, not mine, mind you. 

Wow, I’m sorry, he chortled. I feel for you. 

Eh, it’s fine, you shrugged. You kind of ruined me for other men anyway. 

Oh yeah ? He asked with a grin. How so ? 

Well, you certainly made me rethink my standards, you giggled. I can’t go for the first loser that comes my way when I work for a really handsome man who takes me on cool trips and gives me presents. 

Should I stop being such a nice boss, then ? He grinned. 

Please don’t, you giggled. I really enjoy working for you. I can’t complain. 

Even if I’m a cockblock ? He asked with a smirk. 

Yeah, you said with a laugh. That’s your one and only flaw. 

Is it ? He mused. I would have thought you’d find quite a few of them… I know I’m not easy to put up with. 

You’re fine, you said. 

Good to know, he chuckled. 

And you’re really fine, too, you added without a second thought. 

You didn’t even catch yourself, not realizing that you had just told your boss that you thought it was really attractive. And to help matters worse, your own flirty facial expressions really flew over your own head. It was only when Marshall looked at you with a smirk on his face and returned the compliment that you realized what you had done. 

Why, thank you, Y/N, he said with a smug face. I think you’re pretty fine too. 

Oh my god, you said as you blushed. I’m so sorry ! 

Come on, it’s no big deal, he chuckled. I can think of worse things than being complimented by someone like you. 

Someone like me ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Well… You know, he said as he gestured towards your body. Come on. You’ve seen yourself. 

His words, the gesture, the look on his face made you blush even harder. Not only could you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, warmth was invading your whole body, and the gin was definitely not helping. The rational part of your brain was trying to tell you to lower your gaze and go to bed but, unfortunately, it was being silenced by the other part. The irrational one. The one controlled by your hormones, that was urging you to jump this man’s bones. 

You’re making me blush, Mr Mathers, you said in a sultry voice. You’re such a big flirt. 

You’re one to talk, he whispered. Telling me you think I’m fine. You’re the one making me blush. 

Am I in trouble, boss ? You asked in a voice that was all but innocent. 

I think the headache you’ll have tomorrow will be enough trouble, he said with a playful grin. 

I didn’t drink that much, you giggled. 

He hummed and chuckled before taking a look at you. You were in front of our hotel room, standing close to each other. You smiled and looked into his baby blue eyes. You had always been so drawn to them. You liked everything about his eyes, from the color to the depth of the emotions they conveyed. They had an intensity to them and, most of the time, you managed to refrain yourself from staring too long, knowing you could drown in these waters. But in this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself. And when you did, it was only to look at his lips for a second, before holding his gaze again. You didn’t even need to speak. Your eyes were doing all the talking, supported by the biting of your lower lip and the soft sigh that escaped you. 

How much ? He asked carefully. 

Enough to have the courage to tell you to come closer, you said as you batted your eyelashes. 

I think you’re a little drunk, he said with a slight shake of his head. 

I’m sober enough to give informed consent, you purred. 

His lips twitched into a smile, though you could see him try and hide it. He held your gaze and inched a little closer. You weren’t touching but the atmosphere was heavy and had your heart pounding. You smiled to yourself, noticing how evident his attraction  was. You still had it. You still had game. He was close enough so that you could notice his breath hitching. And he got even closer, his forehead touching yours, one of his hands brushing against your hip. 

Is this ok ? He whispered. 

More than ok, you murmured at you leaned in and cupped his jaw. Is this ok ? 

He didn’t even reply. Simply nodded with a grin, before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. You could tell that he was testing the waters and you were quick to respond, your other hand finding its way to the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss. It became more urgent, more intense. His arm wrapped around your waist and he slowly pushed you against the door to your room, as he kept on kissing you with a passion that made your brain glitch. It was everything a kiss should be. Soft and hungry at the same time. Warmth was invading your chest as Marshall captured all of your senses. You lost track of the time, of where you were. All that mattered was the lingering taste of Diet Coke on Marshall’s tongue, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the softness of his fingers on your cheek and the sensuality of him playfully biting your lip before your mouths reluctantly parted ways to allow for some much needed breath catching. When you opened your eyes, you saw him blink a couple of times as he regained consciousness. Evidently, he was as dizzy as you, the newfound chemistry absolutely exhilarating. Your eyes met again and the sparks of attraction were obvious and, this time, none of you needed to ask, practically jumping on each other, your bodies mirroring each other’s raw and unguarded desire, your chest pressed against his as his mouth crashed on yours with a fervor that took your breath away. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him even closer to you, his body moulding you as every inch of space between the two of you disappeared. Your lips moved in a desperate rhythm, tasting, exploring, as if making up for all the time they’d spent keeping their distance. Your nails lightly raked down his chest, sending a jolt of heat straight through him. He groaned into the kiss, pulling you even closer, his other hand gripping your waist with a possessiveness that matched the urgency in his kiss. You responded eagerly, your tongue tangling with his, and the kiss became a wild, feverish dance of lips and breath. Every touch was charged with a need that neither of you could ignore. When you finally pulled away again, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding as if they’d run a marathon. Marshall’s thumb brushed against your cheek, his breath ragged as he looked at you, eyes dark with desire.

Holy shit, he muttered. That was… Wow. 

I don’t want to stop, you said in a voice that betrayed your hunger for him. 

Then don’t, he whispered, pulling you back in for another searing kiss. 

It was as if you’d both been craving unknowingly craving for this. It felt right. There was something about the way you held on to each other, the exhilaration of newness mixing with an odd familiarity. It was all but foreign, and he seemed to know all the right ways to touch you, that had your pussy throbbing, aching with desire for him. 

Come inside, you pleaded in between kisses. 

To your room ? He asked breathily. 

Yeah, sure, that too, you shrugged. 

For all you cared, he could have his way with you in the hallway. He let go just long enough for you to fumble with the keycard and, as soon as you stepped in your suite, he was all over you again. You nearly tripped as you made your way in, both of your desires so urgent that you didn’t even make it to the bed. Not until round two anyway. In the heat of the moment, caution was thrown to the wind. You didn’t care that he was your boss. You didn’t care that it might be weird in the morning. Neither did he, it seemed. All that mattered was your carnal need for each other, your senses only focusing on pleasure, touching and tasting each other as the room filled with moans and whimpers for a night that seemed never-ending. 

Only the night did end and, as you woke up alone in bed, naked and wrapped in the bedsheets that reeked of sex and your boss’s cologne, you knew you had to have a much needed talk. You had never thought of yourself as a coward, but you sure as hell didn’t feel too good as you knocked on his door, unsure of how he felt about what had happened and a bit upset that you couldn’t even hide behind excuses of alcohol clouding your judgement. You had wanted this and it was time to face the music. There was a bit of awkwardness as he opened the door and greeted you, before allowing you to step into his suite. You could sense the weight of what had happened in the atmosphere, none of you being sure where to start. You decided to do what you did best : focus on work. 

The car to take you to Dre’s studio will be there in 20, you informed him. The chauffeur will pick you up at 4 and drive you to the airport for our flight back to Detroit. No lunch delivered at the studio today since you’re going out with Dre. I will pack your bags and I’ll meet you at the airport. I have texted Dre’s assistant and she’ll have energy drinks and snack ready for you when you arrive. I know you don’t do too well when you haven’t slept. 

Thanks, he hummed. Is 20 minutes enough for a talk ? I’d like to… sort things out before we start the day. 

Of course, you said as you tried to sound as neutral as possible - not willing to let your anxiety show. 

You stared at each other awkwardly for a second and he gestured for you to sit on the couch. 

Are you alright ? He asked carefully. 

Yeah, you hummed. Are you ? 

Of course. Look… last night was amazing and I don’t want you to think that I regret anything, because I don’t. But you work for me and it complicates things.

It does, you agreed. I don’t have regrets either, but I think we should keep things professional. I actually like working for you and I know I’m good at my job. I’ve worked too hard for one night to mess things up. 

Agreed, he said. We’ve got something good here. 

So, what happens in LA stays in LA ? You suggested. 

Exactly, he said with a smile. 

You both sighed in relief, happy to be on the same page. Just like that, the talk shifted to something work-related, and it was back to business as usual. You both went about your day and met again when you boarded the private plane for your flight back to Detroit. During the flight, you attempted to read a book but you could feel the atmosphere heavy, as well as Marshall staring at you. You didn’t say anything, though, figuring it would take a little while for things to go back to normal. It was probably a good thing that you were flying back home, getting to sleep in your own place rather than in a hotel room next to his. Going back to the studio would probably help too. The sooner you’d go back to working like usual, the better it would be. You didn’t talk much and simply wished each other a good night before parting ways as the chauffeur dropped you at your place before heading to Marshall’s. 

You spent an awful evening, trying to shake feelings of frustration. You attempted to pamper yourself and have a spa night at home but, as you lathered your skin with lotion, you could only think about Marshall’s touch, and how you wished it were his hands against your skin. And it didn’t get much better when you decided to touch yourself before bed, struggling to get off, your bullet vibrator obviously not comparing to the man who had made you see stars the night before. You were starting to get there when your doorbell rang, making you grunt as you quickly tossed the toy to the side and put your pajama shorts back before going to open the door, ready to yell at whoever thought it was ok to bother you at 11PM. Your heart dropped when you saw Marshall standing there, holding the scarf you had worn on the plane. 

Hey. I know it’s late but you left it in the car, so I figured I’d bring it back to you, he said as he gestured to the scarf. 

Thank you, you said softly. It could have waited until Monday, though. You didn’t have to drive here so late. 

It’s no big deal, he shrugged. I, uh… Mentally, I’m still in LA. 

Oh, you mean the time zone ? 

Yeah, sure, that too, he muttered. 

You held his gaze, understanding what he meant. You scoffed softly and stepped closer, taking the scarf from his hands, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. You felt the tension, some sort of electric current coursing through your veins when you touched. Letting go of what had happened in LA seemed impossible. You bit your lip and cursed your brain and dripping wet cunt for what you were about to do. 

Do you want to come inside ? You offered. 

Inside your apartment ? He asked as a grin formed on his lips. 

Sure. That, too, you said in a sultry voice before pulling him inside of your apartment. 

[alaskasmonsters]

Ahhh happy 1k and congrats!! Your prompt event looks so fun hehe, thank you for hosting! Could I request Suna + “How much did you drink?”

𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖉𝖎𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖐? (suna rintarou)

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader

content: phone calls, drunk reader, flirting, drunk confessions of sorts

a/n: aww thank you anon ❤️🙏 i love writing drunk people because i can make them be so silly bshshsj 🤭 i hope you enjoy this!!! <33

☁️ 1k follower event

“Fuck. Do you know how late it is?”

You giggled at the sound of the familiar voice sounding through your phone. You ignored his cursing and his question because truth was, no you didn’t know how late it was. Why did that even matter?

“It’s you!” You said instead, more excited giggles bubbling out of your mouth.

There was silence on the other end after this and you frowned, quickly checking your phone screen to see if Suna had actually hung up on you. That would be so mean!

“Yes, it’s me…” Suna replied finally and you hummed happily.

He sounded so dreamy with his voice all…low? In a tired way…?Ho..hoarse! Yes, his voice was hoarse.

You nodded at yourself, patting your shoulder for being so smart. Until the ground decided to do something very rude and tilted to the side enough to make you stumble.

You swayed a little until you were able to find your balance again.

“You okay there?”

You scrunched your face together, eyes returning to your phone.

“Suna! What are you doing in my phone? That’s so silly!” You called out, grasping your phone tighter before dissolving into more laughter.

The boy let out a sigh at your question and you heard rustling in the background.

“How much did you drink?”

You smiled, looking around you for a place to sit down. The world was kind of shaky.

“Just a little,” you admitted, plopping down on a bench nearby. “I miss you. Come here.”

“We saw each other a few hours ago.” Suna reminded you but you heard the smile in his voice.

“But you smell good!”

No reply. The rustling stopped. You ignored this in favour to keep gushing, thoughts filled with the pretty boy.

“And your eyes are pretty! I miss your eyes. Bring them with you.”

A soft laugh sounded through the line.

“You want me…to bring my eyes with me?”

“Yes! If you come without them I might cry! And then you’ll have to kiss my tears away…” You tilted your head thoughtfully and a goofy smile grew on your face “You should kiss me anyways.”

He hummed. “Maybe I will if you ask nicely.”

You cheered.

“After you sober up.”

You deflated again, pouting. Rude!

“But I like you so much!”

There was a pause and you waited patiently for Suna to reply. Why did he let you wait so much today? He was so rude sometimes. But in a cute way. And his eyelashes were so long.

“Just tell me where you are right now. I’ll pick you up and bring my eyes, I guess.”

You sat up, smiling widely. “You will? Promise?”

“Of course, idiot.”

“You’d be such a good boyfriend, you know?”

“I know.”

“You should be my boyfriend.”

“We’ll talk about that later.”

You nodded, feeling satisfied with that. That was basically a yes. He must think you were being so smooth and cool right now. Maybe he was blushing on the other end of the line.

You giggled, almost missing that Suna was asking for your location again. You sent it to him, with just some struggle. Barely worth mentioning, Suna was definitely over-exaggerating when he called you “so hammered”. You were just a little tipsy.

“I’ll be there in a few,” Suna told you, the sound of a car door being opened and closed audible.

You grinned. “See you then, babe!”

The boy didn’t respond immediately. You huffed.

“Call me a cute pet name!”

He sighed. “You’ll kill me tomorrow.”

“Pretty please.” You begged, making your cutest puppy eyes at your phone screen, forgetting for a moment he couldn’t see you right now. “I look so cute right now by the way! You wouldn’t be able to tell me no.”

“Fine.” He gave up, voice sounding amused now, “See you soon, angel face.”

You beamed, making a happy sound, missing completely that Suna had hung up.

But you didn’t mind. You’d just wait there until he came. And maybe you could convince him to keep calling you pet names for the rest of the night…or maybe even longer.

[shesmore-shoebill]

I half jokingly started writing this for Smosh Girlies Week Day 5: Smoffice and then it very rapidly got out of hand and had some actual emotions and etc sneak into it. So uh. Well. Enjoy a largely-unedited fic of "Angela watches the S&B video for the first time at the creator event, Courtmangela flavored".

Tentatively titled: "Leather and Harnesses". Nothing explicit here! Beyond what was in the music video I guess. I might move this onto ao3 at some point if im brave enough.

*mandatory disclaimer. this is rpf. f for fiction. dead dove. etc etc.

-----------

In retrospect, maybe Angela should've been a little better prepared.

In her defense, there's only so much you can prepare for when it comes to "Your workplace is making a music video about being submissive and breedable and your two coworkers/close friends/people you definitely have regular feelings about are playing dominatrixes in said videos. To your bosses. Who are calling themselves submissive and breedable."

Actually, Angela isn't sure someone SHOULD be prepared for that situation. Even if they have a job that involves sentences like "We need to have a safety meeting about where we're storing the floggers".

That said- maybe there were warnings. Signs. She had some knowledge of knowledge of what the video would entail- the theme of the video wasn't a secret internally, nor was the involvement of the cast. Or their roles. Even if Anthony and Ian didn't love making jokes about being submissive and breedable, Angela certainly wasn't going to forget Amanda and Courtney bounding up to her at 11 AM, full of excitement, crowing "Guess who are the sexy doms of the office!"

No, that moment is absolutely seared into her brain. She remembers the extreme hot flush that came over her body, and she remembers making a vague strangled noise that could, generously, have been interpreted as a "woo!" or a "yay!" in response to the news. and definitely not air punching out of her lungs at the thought.

And she remembers, what she thought was the world showing her mercy that Amanda and Courtney didn't seem to pick up on anything amiss, other than a long pause, with Amanda's gaze lingering a bit on her expression, and Courtney drifting closer, something charged in the air for a long second- before they continued their celebration.

Now, standing in a room full of her peers, slightly tipsy, watching her bosses on a screen chant "Submissive and Breedable", and feeling a mounting sense of dread. Angela is realizing maybe the world wasn't being merciful. It was just biding its time.

And- okay, fine. Angela should've known. She should've been ready. Maybe she'd let herself get lulled into a false sense of security in the last few months as her reminders of the shoot mostly boiled down to Erin griping about logistics during coffee dates, or Amanda or Courtney being busy on certain shoot days.

Smosh tried hard to keep details on this one under wraps, which meant Amanda telling Angela that they "did me all up in leather" (complete with an eyebrow waggle) or Courtney saying they "looked DAMN good in a harness", but not many details beyond that. Which had been fine for Angela, who, at the time, was already going through the full spectrum of human emotion trying to respond normally to this information, potentially failing, and then discarding the interactions from her brain before she could linger on them forever.

(And- fine, maybe she'd been trying hard not to think too much about the shoot because,  more than it being Amanda and Courtney, it was Amanda AND Courtney. And because ever since the shoot, sometimes it felt like they were sitting a little closer than they used to. Like there was a sort of newfound understanding, or something, some kind of bonding experience there.

Where sometimes Angela would look up and they seemed to be gravitating towards each other a little more. Leaning a little closer to each other, or laughing at an inside joke clearly from their time shooting the music video. Little touches.

Nothing big, and it wasn't like- it wasn't like Angela was being left out of anything, technically. Amanda still was her lovely, caring, physically affectionate self, pulling her into warm hugs, leaning against her whenever she was near, as they talked up a storm about anything from the latest Dateline to LA traffic. Courtney still lit up whenever they saw her, immediately sharing gossip and compliments with equal joy, pulling her into selfies and hooking their arms together whenever they wanted to bring her somewhere, or just because.

It wasn't anything big, it was maybe just in Angela's head- the fact that, recently, when it was the three of them sometimes it felt like they were both watching her, that they sometimes giggled together quietly and it made Angela feel. Odd. Maybe it was just Angela, on the days when both of them were out, thinking too hard or too long about the idea of them- both of them- at a "sexy" shoot together, even if sexy shoots were never sexy during the creation process. Maybe it was something about the idea of them, in leather and harnesses, together, getting closer, while Angela-)

Well. Angela had been trying to not think too much about it, was the point.

And now, here, in a room full of Youtubers and coworkers and people she likes and respects, she's going to pay for it.  Angela can't tear her eyes away, as her bosses- her bosses- dance and sing "Submissive and Breedable" and before she can brace herself properly, the song moves into its first verse, and-

Fuck.

Courtney, is onscreen, silhouetted in red, in a harness and tanktop. Courtney with a fake tattoo sleeve and their hair slicked back with chains around her neck and-

Courtney making a beckoning motion with her hand, Courtney throwing Ian onto a bed, Courtney slapping a riding crop on her hand, jesus fucking christ-

The song continues, the background switching to a white room with bbno$ and her bosses dancing in BSDM gear, and honestly, that's fine, because Angela is still trying to remember how to breathe. And think. She knows her jaw is agape right now and she's too busy trying to continue standing upright to care.

She can't decide whether to be glad or horrified that right now, at this moment, none of her friends are around her. Amanda and Courtney, while proud of their work, had both understandably opted out of being in the room during the initial screening, and Chanse, Erin, and Mallory had abandoned Angela for more drinks.

And by now Angela deeply, deeply regrets not joining them. She takes a gulp of her wine, wincing as it burns down her throat, trying to stabilize her breathing and ignore the way her whole body is overheating. Only for Anthony on screen to put on some kind of VR headset, and the background turns purple and Angela nearly swallows her tongue because -

Amanda.

It's Amanda, except Amanda in dark makeup and a dark lip and a high ponytail and- oh fuck, she wasn't kidding about the leather- a form fitting leather dress and harnesses and chains and- she's holding a collar-

-and she has on a choker that says "Mommy"-

(In some distant, distant part of her brain, Angela is glad that the people around her are wolf whistling or ooh-ing or laughing because she's pretty sure she made a noise when she saw the collar and she doesn't think it was a dignified one.

Most of her brainpower, however, is currently dedicated to stopping her knees from giving out under her and not crushing her wine glass under the influx of white hot arousal coursing through her body.)

There's a shot tilted up at Amanda, leather dress skin tight, riding crop in her one hand and makeup and hair and everything flawless. Am i dead. Angela faintly wonders to herself. Am I dead and my hell is me watching my close friends be the hottest thing I've ever seen in a room of professional acquaintances. On screen, Anthony is crawling at Amanda's feet, and- All Angela can think about is that being her. A collar around her neck, and Amanda over her and Courtney with her riding crop and-

Oh god. Oh god.

Something in her brain short circuits at this moment, goes so far into a kind of horny shocked awe that it loops back into a white numbness.

She tears her eyes away from the screen as the music video shifts, thankfully, back to the chorus and the white room and the dancing, and gulps down the rest of her wine, if only to try to stop staring in openmouthed shock. Looking away and staring intently at her cup doesn't help, much, though, because she's pretty sure she's going to have these images emblazoned across the forefront of her brain for the rest of the day. Or life. On loop in her mind, images of tight leather, and harnesses, and jawlines and-

shit. shit. shit. She steals a peek up at the screen, and- something vaguely goofy is happening but also Amanda and Courtney are both there now, still in their getup, still looking- fucking hot as hell, and- Angela averts her gaze again. She knew how she felt about both of them, on some level, okay, but she wasn't. Prepared. For this.

Across the room, Chanse is whooping a little as he watches the screen, new drink in hand. And because he sucks, and she hates him, he seems to feel Angela's gaze, and glances over at her, before a knowing grin spreads across his face.

He's not even saying anything, but she knows he knows. He's one of her best friends, and he's looking at her red face and unsteady stance and her empty cup and she knows, he knows. He's probably known this whole time, and he's silently laughing, now, and Angela's going to kick his ass the moment she's close enough. And remembers how to make her legs work.

Her revenge plot is interrupted by an eruption of clapping and cheers as, apparently, the music video concludes. Somehow, she'd survived. People are cheering and whistling as Anthony and Ian shuffle back towards the center, and Angela is- remembering how to breathe again, mostly.

Only to nearly jump out of her skin, shrieking a little bit as a familiar hand falls on her shoulder. "Enjoy the show?"

"I-" Angela attempts to get her heart rate under control as Amanda grins at her, the colors on her shirt swimming in her vision a bit. "You- well- I."

"I think that's a yes." comes Courtney's voice from over her other shoulder, and, okay, yeah, maybe Angela can just die now, because there's one hand on each of her shoulders and they're on both sides of her, Angela cannot stop thinking about how good they both smell, and-

"-Ang? You there?" and she blinks, and Amanda and Courtney are both in her vision now. Courtney eyeing her with a hint of warm concern, hand still on her shoulder. Amanda is facing away as Ian and Anthony drone on, but with an arm looped through hers, a warm and steady presence. When Angela doesn't immediately respond, Amanda glances back as well, a question in her eyes. Courtney, without saying a word, grasps Angela's hand and gently pulls Angela past the people standing behind her, maneuvering back towards the wall, away from the crowd. Amanda's arm stays looped through hers, shoulder pressed against hers until they come to a stop towards the back.

Once situated, Amanda swaps out Angela's empty cup for a cup of water (when did she even get that) and Courtney pats her arm. "Wow, that bad, huh?" They say jokingly, although there's a hint of vulnerability, there. Amanda reaches a hand out and squeezes Courtney's shoulder, before fixing her gaze back on Angela. "I'm sure it was- a lot..." Amanda trails off, uncharacteristically unsure. Angela, sensing the shift in the air, stumbles over her words.

"It was fucking incredible. You guys looked. Hot as fuck. I- it was. Really- good." She finishes lamely, self consciousness raging back in as she speaks. In the background, whatever speech Ian and Anthony are giving winds down, but Amanda and Courtney's gazes don't waver.

"Yeah?"

Amanda and Courtney exchange another glance, a little warmer this time. but this time, pressed between them, Angela doesn't feel left out of- anything, doesn't feel like she's missing anything, especially as they look back at her, a warm understanding growing between all three of them. She pulls in the arm Amanda is looped through to one side, and squeezes Courtney's hand with the other, pulls them both closer. Something about all of this feels- familiar, and safe, and suddenly Angela can find her words again.

"Yeah. Couldn't stop looking. At either of you. Nearly dropped my drink. You guys weren't kidding about the harnesses or leather, huh? No idea how I stayed standing, honestly."

As Angela talks, Courtney's smile turns a little more wicked, and Amanda's posture smoothes into something more confident and steady.

Spurred on, she bites the bullet.

"I don't suppose either of you got to keep any of those outfits, or anything."

Amanda's smile is blinding, and dangerous, stirring something deep in her core, and Courtney's hand in hers squeezes once, twice, as Amanda says, slowly.

"Oh, for you, I think we can find them again."

[elvisabutler]

blame it on the alcohol

summary: your boyfriend has been far too busy to enjoy time with you and some liquor. a break in filming allows for that to change. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x female reader word count: 1266 this almost ended up short and then oops words warnings: p in v sex ( unprotected, wrap it before you tap it, bc is not 100 percent effective ). drunk sex. an argument can be made for this being maybe dubious consent because they're both drunk but they're both consenting to each other and would if they were sober as well so. author's note: welcome to day 28 of kinktober, drunk, giggly sex with austin butler. so apparently you give me a couch to write on versus a bed and i remember how to write faintly quickly. fascinating. everyone thank @ab4eva since SOMEONE requested this anonymously only to spill the beans later on. the austin/elvis fandom causes all of us to have no shame i swear. also i haven't been drunk in a hot minute ( i think i've managed tipsy like once or twice in the past 3 years ) so apologies for making them sound high or something instead. hope y'all enjoy!

The problem with dating Austin post Elvis being released is that he is monumentally busy. You knew this going into things, knew that there was a possibility that Elvis was going to skyrocket him into super stardom but you had thought maybe before it did that he wouldn't have back to back to back projects he had to film in between press for Elvis and existing as a mildly normal human being.

You don't mind, necessarily, because your own life and particularly your job has become a sort of hectic wasteland of neverending to do lists. Sure, you can handle it but you also very much would like to not have to handle it all the time. That particular desire might have led to the vacation time you have planned that coincided beautifully with a small and very miniscule break Austin has in filming. The vacation is really a staycation a simple weekend where you both can just indulge in spending time together in whatever form that would take even if it meant just spending all weekend in bed exploring each other's bodies. Truthfully that was kind of what you were hoping for when you had made the plans.

And yet, the universe has a way of changing things like that.

Austin doesn't drink a lot when he drinks, too aware that he usually needs to keep an eye out for his many female friends- that he needs to be their second set of eyes to keep anything from happening to their drinks but you're in a big enough group that it's alright for him to let loose. It's alright for his eyes to become a little hooded and his movements to become a little slower and less controlled. It's alright for him to look at you with this grin that makes him look at best 25, any tension he has in his face just disappearing in an instant. It's alright for you to be giggling against his chest, touching his nose and saying that he looks shiny in the lights of the club. It's alright for him to nuzzle at your neck and start to place open mouth kisses along your jaw. It's alright.

You look at him with a lazy grin, your hand tracing shapes on his chest. "Hi."

Any other time and Austin would be raising an eyebrow at your hi but he looks- you see his eyes filled with such fondness and joy it threatens to overwhelm you. He moves to kiss you softly. "Hi."

Staring at him, you're struck by a sudden urge to have your way with him, to drag him close to you and to ride him. Your eyes narrow just a little as you giggle. "Aus- baby, do you want to get out of here? Make friends with our bed. And each other?"

Austin pauses for a moment as he considers before answering you with his own giggle as he stands up and holds out a hand for you to grab so you can get up. "And each other. Are you propositioning me baby?"

You lower your voice- you think, in actuality you become about three decibels louder- to answer as you get up and find yourself pulled into Austin's embrace. "I am. I want to have sex with you, Mr. Butler. My hot hot boyfriend."

The group of friends you both went out with laugh at your statement with a few of them wincing in embarrassment before calling the two of you an uber back to your apartment. An apartment where you struggled with the door key but managed to get back inside and onto your bed with only one incident of Austin tripping over his pant leg trying to step out of it. Thankfully he only falls into your bed face first causing you to laugh almost uncontrollably for a minute before he attempts to glare at you only to start laughing himself as he crawls on top of you. You've been aroused since the club and he's been hard since the car so Austin wastes no time in entering you slowly, staring at your face as he does.

"Hi." He whispers, his hand moving to cup your face as he pulls you in for a kiss, his hips rutting against your pelvis slowly.

A giggle escapes you at how weird it is to be saying hi to him again, how weird it is to have someone say hi when they have their cock in you but it's endearing enough that you really truly can't help but giggle into Austin's kiss. "Hi."

He starts to move his hips a little quicker, one of his hands moving down to your hip to grip it. "You're pretty. So pretty. I'm so in love with you, you know that?"

You feel your body heat up more than it already was from the liquor at his words and you laugh softly, turning your head away from Austin his gaze seeming too much for your drunk self to handle. Still, you nod. "I do. You're pretty pretty too, handsome."

Austin's laughter had subsided a little the more he thrusted into you but at your comment he starts up again, his face scrunching up in mild confusion. "Am I handsome or pretty? Which one? I can't be both."

"You can!" You try and defend yourself, even as your hips move up to meet Austin's thrusts. "You can because you do."

"Sound argument." He tries to keep a straight face as his hand moves to play with your clit. "I don't know how I can argue against it."

"You can't." You nod solemnly before you feel the brush of Austin's fingers against your clit and hiss. "Aus- right there. I love you so much. I missed you and I love this."

Austin doesn't say anything, instead choosing to just look at you with a sense of awe and reverence that you've never quite seen on his face. In the back of your mind you figure it's liquor allowing his face to be just fully expressive. Another giggle escapes your lips until it's cut off by a groan as Austin does a particularly rough thrust. You almost are about to say something before you allow it to die on your lips, instead allowing yourself to enjoy Austin fucking you with both of you laughing every so often from your touches tickling the other and in one moment Austin sneezing because your hair tickled his nose. He doesn't give you a warning he's about to cum, instead just letting it happen, filling you with his cum as you follow him, clenching around him not too long after.

Austin flops on top of you, taking heaving breaths to try and get himself back to normal. You think he's done it and you're prepared to get him to pull out of you before you hear snoring. Austin had fallen asleep on you, your body shakes from the effort of trying to not laugh out loud at the fact that your boyfriend is currently asleep on top of you. You should push him off but you figure eventually he'll roll off of you realizing that his ass is still kind of exposed to the air and that while you're a pretty good pillow you don't quite compare to a real pillow. You feel your eyes start to droop as you trace shapes on Austin's back, the action working better than counting sheep at putting you to bed. You'll explain this to Austin later after you just sleep a bit.

Which you do, giggling even when you're completely sober.

[mercy-burning]

Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

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[silversatoru]

Can i regurst a gojo x reader smut where y/n is gojo’s ex girlfriend and also a strong jujutsu sorcerer and they get back together asdfghjkl 🥺😂? Tyy 🥺

hehhee yes ma’am here u are!!! i actually loved writing this one (i think i just have a thing for writing gojo lately lmao) anyway! i! hope! you! enjoy!

to heaven and back

gojo satoru x f! sorcerer!reader

synopsis: you and your ex, gojo satoru, beat the hell out of a few special grade curses and then head back to his house to rekindle an old (and kind of kinky) flame

tags/warnings: nsfw (18+), smut, handcuffs, blindfolding, little bit of oral sex, teasing, alcohol consumption, some fluff at the end? just a little

word count: 3.1k

You lifted your elegant glass of random wine that you could care less about knowing the name of, and took a long sip. All of these old rich bastards talked way too much about brand names, aging, and what cheese paired well with each wine. They were missing what was really important — which one would get you drunk the quickest. 

These kinds of formal events weren’t really your scene, and having to listen to a bunch of old, conservative, high-up jujutsu leaders was terribly boring — so why not take this opportunity to get a little tipsy? You deserved it for putting up with all of these assholes. After all, the only reason they invited you to this prestigious event was for protection. If that pesky band of special grade curses caught wind that all of the higher ups from both Kyoto and Tokyo were in the same place, they were sure to launch some kind of attack. The old, wrinkly douchebags couldn’t care less about your opinions of the jujutsu world and how you would change it, they only liked you for incredible cursed technique. 

And so here you were, spitefully wearing your most elegant dress and downing glasses of wine in an attempt to drown out all of the nonsense around you. There was only one thing that could make this event any worse and— 

“Hello everyone! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer has arrived — I know you were all looking forward to my appearance”. 

And there it was. There was that one thing that could make this event any worse. Gojo Satoru.

You dipped your head low, burying yourself in your glass of wine and praying to any god who would listen to not let this man see you. It’s been over two years since the two of you broke up, but he still wasn’t someone you enjoyed running into. 

Gojo was terribly notorious for having a long line of girls at his disposal, and with his incredible strength and annoyingly good-looks, it wasn’t hard to understand why. The two of you had never been in an officially committed relationship, and so technically Gojo was free to do as he pleased — but you were practically dating and your heart ached every time you caught wind of him being with another woman. And so two years ago you cut things off with him for good — you were tired of being the one he always ran back to at the end of the day. 

He’d looked at you with eyes full of pain that night, begging and pleading to stay with him. He showed you a vulnerable side to him that you had never seen before — and he swore to you that if you had asked to make things official, he would have committed himself to you fully. You declined however, because you felt like you shouldn’t have needed to ask for that kind of thing — but maybe that was just your ego getting in the way. 

“Hey, beautiful, I’ve never seen you around before, you must be from the Tokyo campus,” Some random assistant casually leaned against the counter you were sitting at and shook you out of your thoughts.

“If you’ve never seen me before then you must not be very important,” You shot him a distasteful glance, taking another sip of your wine. 

The man’s face lit up with panic — he must not have been expecting such retaliation to his pathetic attempt of flirting. 

“Are you bothering her?” A familiar voice came from behind you — a long, slender hand slapping down onto your shoulder, “Please don’t flirt with my wife”. 

“Ah- Wife? I’m so sorry, sir,” The man stumbled over his words, bowing his head to Gojo and scurrying away. 

Gojo wasted no time sliding into the seat next to you and pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle you’d already been working on. 

“Really? You’re telling people I’m your wife now?” You gave him a deadpanned look. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his glass. 

You rolled your eyes hard, “Why are you here, Satoru?” 

“Same reason as you. The old, conservative pussies are afraid those special grades might attack — so why not invite their two prized sorcerers to protect them?” 

“Fair,” You let out a heavy sigh, “Not sure that was their best move though — I don’t think either one of us is very motivated to save these fuckers”. 

“No, but I brought my students with me today. So, if anything does happen, make sure you put on a show for them,” He winked, already topping off his wine glass. 

You looked over to see a few kids sitting a couple tables away from the two of you, chatting amongst themselves and wondering why the fuck they had to be here. 

And so an hour or two went by, and to your surprise, you found yourself laughing hysterically alongside Gojo. The two of you had definitely drank a bit too much, and your personalities complimented each other a little too perfectly. You shared the same terrible sense of humor and he had quite the knack for bringing out this lighthearted side of you. You had missed moments like this these past two years. 

Neither of you were paying any attention to the current debate that was occurring between the higher ups when a loud crash sent broken pieces of glass flying through the grand hall. Sure enough, the curses had made their appearance and came flying into the building through a now broken window.

“It’s our time to shine, huh?” Gojo looked over at you, and you imagined that his icy blue eyes were swirling with excitement under that mask. 

“Yeah, let’s make this quick,” You found a warm ball of excitement churning in your own stomach — it’d been a long time since the two of you had fought together. 

Your technique revolved around the manipulation of cursed energy and converting it into light. You could wrap yourself in a shield of light, send curse-filled bursts of light at your enemies, and move at the speed of light as well — which was almost as efficient as Gojo’s teleportation abilities. You had a series of more advanced moves as well, but those required more energy output and therefore you used them a little less often.

The two of you were both able to move so fast that the curses really didn’t stand a chance. You found yourself laughing as you flipped through the air, hurling balls of light at the curses as Gojo worked closer in hand-to-hand combat. At one point, while the two of you were flying past each other, Gojo stuck out his hand and gave you a high five, both of you smiling like maniacs who enjoyed fighting a little too much. 

Between Gojo’s Limitless and your extreme agility and bursts of light, the curses were quickly forced to flee. Both of you were feeling much too drunk and much too lazy to chase after them, even with all of the higher ups begging you to do so. Gojo simply flipped them off and stuck out his tongue, saying that he did what they paid him to do — keep the curses away — and now that the curses had been scared off, he was no longer needed. 

“You want to come back with me, relieve more of our old memories together? I remember how much you loved sleeping in my king sized bed,” Gojo looked back at you, offering one of his large, slender hands. 

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your stupid, stupid heart, but you reached out and took his hand, “Fuck it, let’s go”. 

Gojo’s house on the outskirts of the Tokyo campus was just as you remembered — sleek black interior with modern furniture and extravagantly silky sheets on his bed — his same bed that you were currently sprawled out on, laying in nothing but your undergarments. 

Gojo joined you a couple minutes later, his bare skin warm and familiar against yours. He pressed a few sloppy kisses to your lips, both of you still incredibly tipsy and unable to stop the small giggles from leaking out between your lips while you kissed. 

“Take the blind fold off you weirdo,” You pulled at the back of the black fabric. 

“Mmm, okay,” He mumbled, undoing the knot and exposing his piercing blue eyes.

“So pretty,” You murmured under your breath — his eyes really were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life

His fluffy silver hair fell down messily over his face, a drunken smile stretched across his lips. His smile quickly turned into a devilish grin as he slipped the mask over your eyes instead, tying a tight not at the back of your head.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You droned, but you didn’t argue — you certainly weren’t opposed to being blindfolded.

“It looks good on you,” He slurred, his words messy and his lips even messier as he pressed them back against yours. 

The kisses seemed to last forever, and both of you were perfectly okay with that — your hands taking their time exploring each other’s bodies for the first time in far too long. 

Gojo’s hands worked their way up your back, tracing lines along your toned muscles until he finally reached the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, soft hums coming from his lips.

“I still have handcuffs, if you’re still into that sort of thing,” he mused, massaging his fingertips into your scalp. 

“Damn, I can’t believe you remember what I like. I thought my preferences would have gotten lost among the sea of other women you were pleasing,” You let the snarky remark roll off your tongue, though there was clearly no real spite in your words — you’re both adults and what happened then was in the past now.

“It wasn’t even that many,” He defended, “And you were the only one who ever mattered”. 

“I’m flattered,” You laughed, “Now, where are those handcuffs?” 

Gojo stifled a deep laugh, his hands leaving your hair as he lifted himself up and stood from the bed. When he returned a few moments later, there was cool metal wrapping around both of your wrists. He had two sets of handcuffs, putting one on each wrist and then hooking the other side to the bed posts. 

You were entirely at his disposal now, your hands secured over your head and your vision blocked off by the black mask. 

“I could tickle you right now and there’s nothing you could do,” Gojo observed aloud, pressing kisses up the side of your torso.

“Satoru, I would kick the living shit out of you,” You threaten, goosebumps growing under your skin. 

“Yeah, but you can’t touch me unless I let you,” He retaliated, his soft hands reaching underneath your bra to feel your breasts.

You groaned in response — his Limitless really did make him impossible.

He cupped each of his hands around your firm lumps, gently massaging them between his fingers. His cool fingertips then made their way down to your lower body, swiftly removing your remaining underwear. You were now completely exposed to him, chills running down your spine as you wondered what he would do next. 

You heard a shaky breath leave his lips, his hungry hands massaging circles into your thighs, “God, you’re so beautiful. I missed you so much, you know that?” 

“I’m sure you did,” You breathed, “I’m a wonderful person to be around”. 

Gojo let out a hearty laugh, and you heard what you assumed to be the sound of his own underwear getting thrown to the floor. A few seconds later he was straddling your torso, his warm thighs wrapped around your body. You couldn’t see it, but you knew his massive member had to be right in front of your face now. 

“Remind me what that pretty mouth can do,” He cooed, pressing the tip of his length gently to your lips. 

You graciously granted him access, parting your lips and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip, earning a few twitches from Gojo’s body. You began to bob your head back and forth as much as the handcuffs allowed, a few quiet moans leaving his throat in response. 

He began to move his hips against you, gingerly pushing his member deeper and deeper into your mouth until you were taking the full length down your throat. He groaned and let a few curse words slide from between his teeth — your mouth was wrapped so perfectly around him. Tears pricked at your eyes and a couple rough gags ripped through your throat, Gojo finally pulling away and allowing you to catch your breath. 

After that, you felt a single one of his long, slim fingers slide into your mouth, and you wasted no time wrapping it in your tongue and sucking hard. 

“Good girl,” He murmured, plucking his finger back out of your mouth and moving it down to your aching entrance. 

Between the saliva on his finger and the slick juices around your opening — his finger slid in effortlessly. He started moving in quick movements, curling his finger up into your g-spot each time. A few light moans left your lips, your fists clenching in the cuffs as your yearned for more. His finger felt good, but you wanted the real thing — you needed it.

“Satoru, please,” You practically whined his name, a tiny bit ashamed for how desperate you were for him right now. 

“Patience, love,” He clicked his tongue and your heart did somersaults at the endearing name. 

He removed his singular finger and intertwined it with a second one before sliding them back into your cavern. He picked up a steady pace again, your breath hitching in your throat. Two fingers was certainly better than one, but the continuous teasing was just making you even more desperate to feel his member inside of you. You mumbled his name over and over, small pleads and shameless whispers leaving your mouth as you bucked your hips against his hands.

“No ones fucked you as good as I used to, have they? You’re horribly desperate right now” He clicked his tongue again, removing his fingers and moving them up to your clit. He rubbed the smallest, softest circles against the small nub, your core growing warmer with desire. 

“I won’t make you wait any longer then,” He whispered, sitting back and positioning the head of his length against your throbbing cunt. 

“Please,” You mumbled fervently, any ego or pride that you once had was completely down the drain now. 

Your pleads were finally rewarded, Gojo pressing himself deep into your tight walls. The immediate feeling was complete bliss, your head rolling back in pleasure as you heard a throaty moan creep it’s way out of Gojo’s mouth. His moans were so pretty — god, you’d missed the sound of them.  

He moved in and out at a tantalizingly slow pace at first, your hips bucking and wiggling as you made fervent attempts to make him go faster.

“So eager…” He shook his head, continuing to move at a pace that was absolutely agonizing — you thought you might die if he didn’t rail the hell out of you soon. 

“Please, fuck,” You gasped, “Stop moving so goddamn slowly”. 

“Your whines are so pretty, baby. Say my name and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” He murmured, his voice low and husky. 

“Fucking hell,” You gritted your teeth, “Please Satoru, please fuck me already”. 

“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath, your words sending electricity coursing through his body. 

After hearing you say that, he was quick to give you what you wanted, picking up his pace and wrapping his hands firmly around your hips. Strangled combinations of moans, whimpers, and cries filled the air as they flew from your mouth. You didn’t care how loud or desperate you sounded, you wanted him to know how good he was making you feel. 

The two of you were an entangled mess of sweaty skin and throaty moans, Gojo filling your ears with praises and compliments the entire time. His lengthy member railed into you over and over, hitting that perfect pleasure point with each stroke and sending warm surges of ecstasy through your veins. 

Your bodies moved together in sync, your breaths aligning and your climaxes threatening to arrive simultaneously. After a few more firm strokes, you felt yourself drowning in pleasure — euphoria crashing through your body like waves. Gojo reached his end point just a few moments later, his loud cuss words and strangled moans filling your ears. 

The two of you rode out your orgasms together, and almost immediately afterwards Gojo collapsed next to you. He lazily reached up and uncuffed each of your hands, leaving the cuffs dangling from his bed posts just in case there was a round two in his future. He rolled the sticky condom off his member and tossed into a nearby trash bin, a relaxed sigh slipping between his parted lips. You peeled the black mask off of your eyes, finally able to meet his again. 

He was staring at you with eyes filled with all kinds of emotions — the emotions that he’d been too afraid to admit to the first time the two of you were together. But he wasn’t afraid of commitment anymore, he was absolutely certain about what he wanted, and it was you. 

“Stay with me,” He asked, his eyes pleading with you, “I’m ready this time, I promise. I’m all yours, if you’ll have me”. 

You found a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips as you looked deeper into his eyes, “Of course I’ll stay, as long as you still feel this way when you wake up sober tomorrow”. 

“I’ll feel this way forever,” He pressed his head into you and mumbled into your chest, “And I’ll remind you as many times as you need to hear it”. 

You wrapped your arms around him in response, the two of you fitting impeccably together. He placed a few gentle kisses to your skin before his breathes began to slow. You found your own breathing to be evening out, your cloudy thoughts pushing you closer and closer to sleep. The two of you slowly drifted off together, your heavy breaths falling perfectly in sync.

[squishneedsahero]

Getting The Family Together

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 12 of 13

Word Count: 1550

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

You're in an amazingly good mood when you arrive home that evening after seeing Jason. Your other children, official and unofficial, notice along with your husband but none of them ask, assuming that the GCPD charity ball had just gone better than expected. It isn't until a few days after you had seen Jason that Bruce brings up your persistent good mood. You had successfully pulled him away from all of his work, yet again, just to cuddle him on the couch. You were in your usual spot on his lap with your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head when he brings it up, "what has you in such a good mood? I know you well enough that it wasn't the GCPD charity ball."

You lean your head back against his shoulder so you can look up at him, "well, I sure hope you would know that, Love. But whats different about my mood?" Your question is genuine in the moment, but the second after you ask it you realize of course you wouldn't be able to hide the fact that you were happy about seeing and holding your Jaybear in your arms once again.

"Well, since you left that evening you've been in a-" he pauses, wanting to choose the correct words since he knows if he were to say 'better mood' you would relentlessly bug him about it for the next week or so, "you've been in a good mood far too long for it to have just been due to you being tipsy from the party."

You laugh gently, "good catch," you say in reference to his pause, "you know me so well." You take a pause of your own, absentmindedly tilting your head to press a kiss to his jaw. "I saw Jason," you eventually answer and open your mouth to continue but get interrupted.

"I know, I won't ask you where he is," Bruce says as the both of you know he had been trying to track Jason down for months at this point. At first it had been to stop him but as soon as he learned it was Jason his motivation had changed to helping Jason get off the seemingly destructive path he was currently on. His arms tighten around you, "I'm glad you got to see him." His hand brushes your hair out of your face, "I know that you missed him."

You smile at the man holding you, grateful yet again for the many arguments you had gone through with him, convincing him that you weren't scared of the potential dangers. "I know you did too, eventually he'll be ready to come home again and we can have our family together once more."

You can do nothing but glare at the man standing in your face. He was ugly, before you had broken his nose with your fist and without the black eye that was quickly forming. In all honesty you were surprised that it had taken this long for you to get kidnapped for the second time in your life, the first time since officially meeting Bruce. "Now, you're going to behave yourself while we call your husband and get him to send us the ransom money if he wants to see you alive again."

"Okay," you respond as it takes everything in you to not just sit there and taunt the man. They had you duck-taped to a chair, preventing you from causing further damage to their faces. And sure maybe you should be acting scared but still your reaction to danger is to laugh in it's face, even if you know that as soon as that phone call was made you would be out of this place in the hour.

The brutish looking man growls in frustration and slaps you across the face before yelling at his friends to keep an eye on you while he makes a phone call.

Tears sting your eyes at the slap on the face but you bite your tongue and look at the other two men who were now standing in front of you. There were maybe 20 others scattered through the building, they had clearly thought all of this through, but were a little underprepared for the fact that every single hero or vigilante in the city would take your kidnapping personally.

The man who had slapped you comes back, bragging about how scared Bruce had sounded on the phone and how willingly he was ready to hand over the money he had demanded. He barely makes it back into the room, when there is a moment of static over their walkie-talkies and then as scream and some loud banging off in the distance.

"Ooh, that doesn't sound very good," you say, clenching your teeth in false sympathy for them. "You guys might want to get that checked out." You can see that the man wants to slap you again for your big mouth but there is another shout and he begins directing the men to group together to try and protect the merchandise.

Eventually, you notice him first, Jason sneaks into the room in his Redhood gear. You were a little surprised to see him out of everyone since there had not been a single gunshot fired and that was kind of his thing. It didn't take the men around you long to notice Jason, since he was moving through the open now.

As they approach Jason, after realizing he isn't shooting everyone on sight, the men's confidence gets shattered as an actual child jumps from the rafters and knocks 3 of them down in one go. They begin firing their guns, shooting at anything that moves. You see their recklessness and know you should get out of there since as soon as they realize they're outmatched they're going to threaten you in the hopes of gaining an advantage.

You unsteadily stand, still duck-taped to the chair, and begin to waddle towards the nearest doorway. You get interrupted by your oldest son catching you, "hey, need some help?" Dick asks, clearly teasing you for this predicament you had gotten into.

"No thanks, Nightwing, I've heard that it improves your running speed if you're tied to a chair."

You see the flash of a smile cross his face as he just cuts the tape and helps you out of it. He then goes to help you out of the room but you stop him and say, "I can manage, you help your brothers."

You can see him hesitate for a moment before going with it, you then take off towards the door, only to be interrupted once again, but this time by the man who had slapped you, pointing his gun in your face. Your three sons who had come to your rescue, clearly trying to keep some sort of secret identities by the fact that everyone wasn't here, are all busy in the moment. You stop short at the sight of the gun, but once again you're impulsive, kicking the man square in the balls before bolting to the door.

You make it to the door and pull it open, stepping through it just for a shooting pain to go through your thigh. It's as you fall to the ground that you hear the gunshot and realize that the bastard had shot you. You do what you can to close the door behind you, just in time since another bullet hits the door. You then scoot across the grimy floor, to a spot where you can hide since you won't be moving far, and look at the blood trail you had left. You take a breath and collect your thoughts, remembering the sports bra you had worn and ripping your shirt off for a makeshift bandage/tourniquet for your leg.

You get it wrapped well enough to stop some of the bleeding and begin putting pressure on the wound, despite the fact that doing so nearly caused you to black out. Not long after that the fighting in the other room stops and Jason is the first one through the closed door.

"Mama?" He takes the hood off as he lands on his knees beside you.

"I'm fine," you say, motherly instinct taking over and you wanting to protect him despite the fact that he had just taken out at least 7 guys on his own moments before.

"Bull," he says and moves your hands so that he can evaluate things, not that he didn't trust you knew what you were doing but knowing that your mind was probably a bit all over the place.

"I'm fine, enough, Jaybear," you say and lean your head against the wall behind you.

Hours later you're relaxing on the couch with Bruce and three of your boys, holding them all as well as you can with a leg cast. The bullet had fractured your femur so it made everything a bit more complicated but at least now you knew how it felt to be shot so you could write better descriptions in your books.

But it's as you're sitting there with Bruce, Dick, Tim and Damian that the doorbell rings and a few minutes later Alfred enters the room. You look up to see Jason standing beside him, "Hey."

[dollslayer]

Please continue the Scandal-based Steve fic, you write the best angst ever!!!!

A/N: As you wish! Thank you so much for reading, hope this is up to par 💖 (ps- if you commented on the first one I'm tagging you for this follow up, no permanent tags tho don't worry!)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter

Warnings: pseudo-cheating, angst, alcohol consumption, swearing, love triangle, secret relationship

Part One HERE I Main Masterlist

It’s been an entire week since you walked out on Steve. He never did find the words to tell you that he wasn’t going to leave Peggy, but you never found the words to explicitly leave him, either. You were both in a game of chicken that you’d unknowingly started and neither of you had found the courage to finish it.

It was so easy when you were swept up in the moment, a storm of anger and hurt that finally came to a breaking point. But now you were past it and found yourself lost. The only thing making you feel better was seeing that Steve was having just as hard a time as you were. He wasn’t as outgoing, he was making dumb mistakes, he was off his game. You didn’t necessarily want Steve to suffer but it was reassuring in some way, to know that he felt anything for you. You just wanted this entire mess to be over.

But when the mess was over, what would you want to come of it? Do you even want to be with Steve any more? Or do you just not want him to be with Peggy? Thinking it through, what you felt for Steve was real, real enough to pull on your heartstrings and real enough to hurt. After all of the grief that Steve has caused you you’re not sure that you could properly forgive him. Maybe over time but you couldn’t see yourself trying to rebuild your relationship when the two of you had so much else to focus on.

So now you were caught in some sort of relationship purgatory because you were too afraid to end it. And he was too much of a coward to admit he’s been in the wrong this whole time. Honestly you can’t justify Steve’s actions on any level when it came down to it. His men are in the midst of war and fighting Hydra and he really thinks that a relationship is going to be their saving grace and reassurance? Bull.

On some level, no matter how deep it is, Steve saw something for her that he didn’t see in you and he felt some affection for her. Maybe saying that the relationship was just a front was his way of covering his real feelings for her. But he’d be damned if he thought he could have his cake and eat it too. You’d spent many a night cycling through this thought process and ending up right where you started.

Getting nowhere in your deliberating you decided to bury yourself in your work. You’d always felt that it was fulfilling work, you helped civilians and military alike with your work and you were damn good at it. So you plunged head-first into your codebreaking and strategy-forming and put your in-limbo relationship on the back burner.

Throwing yourself head first into work turned out to be in your best interest for the time being. The last two missions had been a success but per usual, you had gone unrecognized. That’s fine, you didn’t need to be patted on the back every time you excelled but every once in a while it would be nice. And thanks to your codebreaking, once again, you find yourself stuck in the corner of the dingy pub you had lost your mind in just a week ago. Unappreciated. Or so you thought.

You sat back thinking Steve wasn’t under Peggy’s thumb this time but he was trying his best to make the most of the moment over a pint with the rest of the commandos. And you were back in what was becoming your usual corner of the pub, sipping on a dry red wine. It was bitter on your tongue but after the week you’ve had you needed a drink, even if it meant seeing them.

“You did good back there, thank you” Bucky’s voice shook you from your thoughts. “Okay if I sit?”

You were so caught off guard by anyone really speaking to you, let alone praising you that you couldn’t find anything to say. You just stared at Bucky with wide eyes before nodding slowly. He settled into the chair next to you and took a swig from his bottle.

“You know, on the outside you don’t seem like you’re gonna be much but when you put yourself to work… it’s somethin’ else. You’re a natural.” Bucky told you.

“Um, thanks, I guess?” You brushed off the compliment to give him one of your own, “We wouldn’t be sitting here right now if it weren’t for you all. I’m just some codebreaker, you’re the one doing the leg work”

“Give yourself some credit, you deserve it.” Bucky patted you on the shoulder and for the first time in weeks you felt a spark of genuine happiness. You shyly smiled up at Bucky and took a sip of your wine.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s got Steve snappin’ his cap at everyone? You two break up?”

Your eyes rounded in surprise. You were so sure that no one had known. You were so sure Steve didn’t want anyone to so it didn’t occur to you that Bucky might’ve known.

“Did… Steve tell you? About us?”

“Didn’t have to. I ran after him to talk a few weeks ago and found you two smoochin’”

Your face heated in slight embarrassment but you nodded in understanding.

“I just… it’s not fair that he should show her off like she’s his sweetheart while I’m treated like some dirty secret. I gave him a piece of my mind and he wasn’t able to cope. But I don’t know where this leaves us. He didn’t split but there’s just no way we could go on like this.”

Bucky looked a little miffed but grunted in affirmation. He shook his head and clenched his jaw.

“I knew he and Peggy weren’t for real but what he’s been doin’ to ya ain’t right. Sorry Steve’s been such a knucklehead. My two cents, you go back to him and confront him. And if he’s too much of a punk to see what he’s got you walk.”

You shakily exhale and take another gulp before setting your palms flat against the table.

“Easier said than done, but you’re right”

“I love him, he’s my brother but forget him if he’s too much of a jerk to know what he’s got. But for now let’s just get pleasantly drunk, whaddya say?”

Rather than giving him an answer you downed the rest of your glass and put it down on the table. Bucky was looking at you with a toothy grin.

“Atta girl”

____

The evening had been as promised, you were pleasantly drunk and for the first time in weeks you were letting yourself enjoy the moment. Bucky was funny and kind to you when no one else had even batted an eye and you found yourself grateful for his company that night.

You were humming to yourself as you walked back to your room but just when you reached for the door a hand reached out for your wrist. You didn’t need to look up to know that the hand belonged to Steve. You denied yourself the comfort you found in physical contact and reminded yourself of the situation. You sighed and looked up to him expectantly.

“You and Buck? Just what the hell’s going on?” Steve demanded.

“Oh so now you want to talk to me? You only care now that you’re not my main focus?” You shot right back at him. You swayed slightly, tipsy still from the wine.

Steve’s jaw tensed and he schooled his features though you could tell he was simmering on the inside.

“No”, he said calmly, “I just wanted to know. If you’re trying to make me jealous it’s not going to work.”

“Well I wasn’t trying but apparently it is working.”

Steve’s hands balled into fists and you could see veins beginning to spout in his hands. He didn’t say anything so you continued.

“I give you an ultimatum and tell you how much you’ve hurt me and you only come back once I turn my attention to your best friend? He’s the only one that’s said a nice word to me this whole time. The rest have been caught up in the lie you’ve been spinning with Peggy!”

Your anger was getting the better of you but you were letting it. Anger got you through it the first time, it’ll get you out no matter how it ends.

“That’s not fair-”

“You’re not fair, Steve. The way you’ve been treating me, it isn’t right! I gave you a choice and you’ve been dragging your feet. I’m going to ask you one more time, Steve. Me? Or Her?”

Steve was silent again, you could tell he wasn’t thinking about what he wanted, but he was forming an answer. Deep down you knew it would come to this. He’s never going to hold your hand in public, there’s never going to be an apartment in Brooklyn, there’s never going to be an us between you. Maybe there never was.

Steve started to call your name but you shook your head and scrunched your eyes closed in a mixture of frustration and pain. Tears were welling in your eyes but you’d be damned if Steve Rogers would see a single one fall. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you, he never did.

“I’m sorry…” Steve offered lamely.

“No, you’re not.” Maybe that wasn’t fair of you to say, Steve did look to be in genuine emotional pain over this but right now you didn’t care. If he had felt any true remorse he wouldn’t have let himself get anywhere with Peggy in the first place.

“I really did want all of that with you, I still do. We could still have it, we just need to get through this, please.”

You shook your head and started ushering him towards the door.

“No, Steve. That’s all gone now. You had your chance but I’m worth more than how you treat me.”

You opened the door and waited for him to leave.

“I think you should go. I don’t have anything left to say to you.”

With that Steve sighed heavily but left with his head hung between his shoulders. You could’ve sworn he was crying but you didn’t care if he was. He made this happen and he didn’t treat you right. So this is what happened.

Tears finally make their way down your face but you don’t feel sad. It’s cathartic almost, like a weight lifted. You’d probably put in for a transfer with the SSR just to save the team the grief but for now you’d keep your head down, keep working. Damn Steve Rogers for not seeing in you what you saw in yourself and damn anyone else that didn’t either.

[likeshipsonthesea]

I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend

i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)

Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.

Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.

But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--

Nursey squints.

So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.

What the fuck.

Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.

(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)

Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.

(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)

Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.

Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”

Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.

The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”

Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”

The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”

Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--

“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”

The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?

“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.

Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”

Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”

Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--

“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”

“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”

Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”

The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--

“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.

Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.

Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.

Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”

“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”

“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--

“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.

(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)

[blossom-hwa]

Stardust - CHANGMIN

So like. This was the first full scenario I wrote for TBZ and I can’t believe I wrote this before actually even STARTING No Air, but whatever! It was cute! I couldn’t help myself but I didn’t want to post this before No Air so that’s why it’s late

Thank you to @deathbykpopboys for helping me put this scenario together! Honestly I don’t think I’d ever write anything without sunny hhhh she’s always so great with ideas <3

Pairing: Changmin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a little angst if you squint, teacher!au

Triggers: alcohol, cursing

Word Count: 2.7k

Changmin sometimes thinks you’re a little too perfect to exist.

TBZ Masterlist | No Air | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

Friday nights are always fun, for Changmin. Friday’s the last day of the work week and kind of blends into the weekend, and because he’s a schoolteacher, he (sort of) gets the weekend off. Sure, he might be making lesson plans or writing reports or doing other important, not fun things, but he also has his stolen moments for dance or shopping or things that he doesn’t have time to do during the week. He’s free, more or less.

The last Friday night of each month, though, Changmin enjoys the most, when he, Jacob, and Kevin meet up for cheap food and drinks. And as much as Changmin likes to wreak havoc on the lives of his fellow teachers (mostly by scaring the wits out of them with dolphin screams and horror movie masks), he really does enjoy their presence in his life and appreciates them for it.

They haven’t a missed a night so far, not since that time Jacob was out with the flu and Kevin had a family emergency. And even though Changmin’s definitely done and said some stupid (read: really embarrassing) things while under the influence, the pros of each night always end up outweighing the cons. So if Changmin wakes up the next morning with a hangover, well, that’s just a side effect of having some fun.

But sometimes he has thoughts. Thoughts that he’s repressed so well he might not even register them, but that exist nonetheless. And Changmin, sadly, is a truthful drunk. His thoughts come spilling out of his mouth, mostly unfiltered, whenever he’s had enough to drink.

And this week, Changmin has been having thoughts. Thoughts that he isn’t sure he wants to spill.

If he drinks, they’ll flood out. It’s the way Changmin works – he’s had enough experiences with alcohol and his brain that he knows what will happen. As he stares at the soju bottle on the table, he knows that if he drinks, he’ll probably regret it in the morning. Not necessarily because he’ll remember what he says – his memory tends to get a bit spotty even after a round of light drinking – but because Kevin definitely will.

Normally, Changmin would praise God for Kevin's ability to remember drunk things. Coupled with his inability to lie, it makes for so much potent blackmail. Sure, Kevin makes Changmin and Jacob swear not to talk about anything he said under the influence, but Changmin isn't an angel the way Jacob is. If it came down to it, he'd sell Kevin's secrets for a single corn chip and some entertainment.

(Okay, not really. But the point still stands.)

If he complained about this to people, they’d probably just laugh and say something about how Kevin is a precious pure meme, that he’d never sell out Changmin’s deepest thoughts for anything. After several years of working with him, though, Changmin knows better.

(He’ll just say that sometimes, Mr. Kev Kev isn't the happy-go-lucky meme-y little boy that everyone likes to make him out to be.)

So maybe Changmin shouldn't be drinking tonight. There isn’t necessarily a lot on his mind, but he’s been thinking of things that he doesn't want spilled just yet, and drinking will only make that possibility a reality.

Isn’t that what alcohol is for, though? To make those worries disappear, if only for a short while? The soju beckons at Changmin, even more so when Kevin actually opens the bottle. Eventually, he throws caution to the wind and fills his own glass.

It’s a clear night, mostly. A bit cloudy, but no sign of rain, and there’s a pleasant little breeze that feels cool against his cheeks. Sitting at one of the small tables outside of the restaurant, Changmin loses himself in the food and the conversation.

After an hour, Jacob decides he needs to leave because he’s supposed to meet with his family the next day and can’t get too plastered. Kevin calls him a noob while making a face, but Jacob, being the angel he is, just pats him on the head on his way out. Privately, Changmin thinks Kevin is much more of a noob than Jacob, but the alcohol hasn’t addled his mind enough to say that out loud just yet.

At some point, though, the world becomes pleasantly muddy. Changmin can register what’s going on at a distant level and he probably shouldn’t drink too much more, but he takes a last shot anyway, just as Kevin asks a slightly slurred “How’s life with Y/N?”

A stupid smile stretches across Changmin’s lips. “Kevin, oh my God, she’s perfect.” He grins, the breeze cool against his flushed cheeks. "She’s so beautiful, it doesn't make sense that we exist in the same world."

Kevin mutters something that sounds like "whipped" and "so soft."

Changmin is sure that if he were sober, he would've attacked his fellow teacher by now, but his tipsy haze is too pleasant to interrupt. He just wants to keep talking. "Kevin," he whines. "Pay attention."

"Okay." Face flushed, Kevin puts his chin on his fist. "'M listening."

"Y/N’s so beautiful." Dimly, Changmin is aware that he's just repeating himself, but he can't help it. The point needs emphasis. "Kevin, she’s so amazing. So much more amazing than me. So smart. Did you know Y/N knows like ten programming languages?"

Tipsily, Kevin shakes his head. "What... what's a program."

"Computer shit." Changmin plays idly with his shot glass. "Doesn't matter. So smart, so nice, so... lovely, Kevin. Y/N’s good at everything. She cuts fruit for me when I work late and make me go to sleep. She doesn’t know anything about dance and tries to help anyway. She works so hard and never takes anyone’s shit and she always knows when I need time alone or when I need comfort.” His mouth draws down into a slight frown. “She’s like... she’s like..."

Why is it so hard to come up with something to explain you? Your entire existence defies definition. How can he even find something comparable to the way you sparkle in his eyes?

Ignoring Kevin’s gaze trained on him, Changmin slumps over the table, eyes gazing out at the dark night. A few stars manage to glitter past the clouds and the piercing lights of the Seoul skyline.

Stars. Something tugs at the back of Changmin’s brain. Stars. Sparkly.

An image of your smile pops, unbidden, in his mind. Your bright eyes glimmer. Like stars.

Oh.

Stardust.

Yes, stardust.

You're like stardust, warm and gentle and... magical. Magical to the touch.

"She’s like." Changmin hiccups. "She’s like stardust, Kevin. Stardust. Perfect. Warm.”

A tear trickles down Kevin's cheek. Changmin has exactly two seconds to ready himself in his drunken haze before Kevin launches himself at his purple hoodie, loosely grasping at the soft cloth as he fully encases Changmin within his arms. "Ji Changmin," he sobs, muffled, "that is the most adorable thing I've ever heard you say."

Even sober, Changmin doesn't think he'd know what to say in response to that, so he just stays silent. It's not like Kevin would even hear him over the sound of his overemotional crying.

Anyway, Kevin's hug feels nice. Warm. Changmin doesn't think he needs to speak words at the moment, he's too comfortable. It's not the same as being in your arms, but he'll settle for it now. He burrows a little deeper into his friend's hold.

“You little child, you,” Kevin sobs into his shoulder. “You’re so sweet and small and warm, I can’t believe you exist.”

Changmin doesn’t feel like replying. There’s a bubble of something growing in his chest that he can’t entirely decipher right now, and his brain has focused on that. It’s some sort of emotion, he thinks. It doesn’t feel very pleasant.

His head gets pulled out of Kevin’s arms. He whines a little, annoyed by the lack of warmth, but he doesn’t really have the presence of mind to do anything but sit there limply as Kevin starts shaking him back and forth, still wailing about how “adorable his little Ji Changminnie is.”

The bubble keeps growing as Kevin keeps shaking him. It doesn’t feel like vomit – Changmin knows that sensation a bit too well – but it makes him feel a little sick. A little upset. The bubble feels suffocating, cold, but it also burns.

Not vomit. He doesn’t feel nauseous. But still unpleasant.

Kevin goes back to hugging Changmin into his chest, which soothes the bubble a little bit. The soft warmth of Kevin’s sweater smooths the burning and takes away the edge of the cold. But the bubble still stays as Changmin rocks back and forth in his friend’s hold, blankly trying to decipher the stupid emotion growing in his heart.

“There’s a bubble.” The words slip out of his mouth just past Kevin’s ear. “There’s a bubble in my chest.”

“Bubble?” Kevin pulls back slightly, flushed face confused. “What bubble?”

Changmin vaguely gestures at his chest as best he can with Kevin’s arms partially trapping his hands. “Here. Doesn’t feel good.”

Kevin’s eyes squint. “Need to vomit?”

“Nooooo,” Changmin whines. “Kevin, it’s a bubble.” He pauses. “Think it’s an emotion.”

He hears Kevin suck in a breath. “I can’t believe my precious little Scorpio child is finally feeling emotions,” the older boy says in a stage whisper, loud enough for at least the next two tables to hear. Changmin has enough presence of mind to slap him. “Hey!”

“It hurts.” Changmin’s lips pout deeper. “I don’t like it.”

“Aww, no, baby.” Kevin pats his head – a little too hard, but Changmin can deal with that. “Why does it hurt? What emotion is it?”

Changmin racks his brains for the word. It’s not a good feeling, so he tries to eliminate the good words as they pass through his mind. Not pleasant. Definitely not happy. Not calm, either.

Sadness? Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not specific enough. Anger? Not really.

Fear?

Changmin isn’t scared of many things. He loves horror movies and thinks possessed dolls are cute, and it’s hard for anyone to really startle him. Fear is not an emotion that regularly appears in his repertoire.

But this time…

“I’m scared.” The two words slip out of his mouth, quiet, lonely. “’M scared, Kevin.”

Kevin pulls back again. “Changmin, you’re never scared.”

“I am now.” He purses his lips petulantly.

“Why?”

Unconsciously, the corners of his lips turn down even further into a blank pout. "Sometimes I think Y/N’s gonna leave. Slip through my fingers."

Even tipsy, Changmin can tell there are more tears welling up in Kevin's eyes. "But… you love each other?"

"Y/N’s stardust." Changmin's pout deepens. "Too perfect. She’s gonna realize that, that I'm not... I'm not good enough but she’s too nice to say that so she’ll just slip away." He hiccups again, feeling his cheeks burn with drink, fluttering his fingers loosely to make sure Kevin gets the point. "Like stardust."

Kevin remains silent for one, two, three seconds. Changmin takes that time to drain the last little bit of soju left in his cup.

Then Kevin nearly knocks the cup out of his hand when he literally grabs Changmin and forces him to curl up into his sweater, nose buried in the soft folds of cloth. “You beautiful, pure little child, you,” he coos, patting Changmin’s head (still a little too hard, but Changmin really doesn’t feel the need to deal with it right now). “You small little child. You poor, small child. Y/N is so in love with you, there’s no way she’ll ever leave.”

“Stardust,” Changmin reminds Kevin, words muffled into his sweater.

“Stardust,” Kevin agrees. “But good stardust. Gonna stay with you. Never going to leave.”

Changmin doesn’t remember much of what happens after that. He knows that they eventually pay for everything and Kevin’s partner picks them up (well, they were the one who was supposed to pick the two of them up. He doesn’t actually register the driver’s face, but Changmin hears Kevin calling them “love muffin, better than Beyonce,” so it’s probably them. He refuses to acknowledge any alternatives), but he’s too drunk and too tired to process anything else.

Somehow, he wakes up the next day curled up in his bed, forehead threatening to split from the dull pain. Mentally, he thanks himself for closing the shades before he passed out last night (or was it morning? He isn’t completely sure when he got home) so that the sunlight isn’t adding to his headache.

Get up, Changmin, he tells himself, summoning the strength to swing his legs out of bed. Step by step, he exits his room and slowly brushes his teeth before heading toward the kitchen for a bottle of water or something to get rid of the pounding in his head.

Changmin’s so out of it that he doesn’t register the smell of something cooking wafting out of the kitchen before he’s almost in it. He finally stops, confused, just in time to see your head poke out from the kitchen entrance.

For a second, Changmin just stares at you, brain buffering as he tries to come up with a suitable greeting in his hungover state. There’s this look on your face that Changmin’s muddled mind can’t seem to decipher.

Oh, God.

You look like you’re about to cry. 

He panics. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad last night? He can’t remember anything – how badly did he screw up, what the hell did he do –

Then you leap at him, much the same way Kevin did last night, and bury your face into his shoulder.

“Ji Changmin,” you say, words muffled into his rumpled shirt, “I love you so much.”

Changmin’s mouth can only come up with a confused “huh?”

You pull back, eyes shining with tears, but mouth stretched into a beautiful, beautiful smile. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember what you told Kevin last night,” you say teasingly, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in your gaze.

Slowly, slowly, the events of last night begin to piece themselves together in Changmin’s brain. Every single stupid word he said to Kevin in his drunken stupor comes flooding back in one massive, jumbled mess.

He blushes.

“Ji Changmin.” You cup his puffy, red cheeks between your hands, voice trembling. “Listen to me. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to slip through your fingers and, fucking, I don’t know, fly away. Because I am not perfect, I am not stardust, but god, I – you’re perfect for me. You are good enough for me, more than good enough for me. You are perfect, and I’m staying here forever. You’re not going to be able to get rid of me. Understood?”

“But –”

“Understood?”

Changmin stares into your shining eyes. Even with you standing right here, hands cradling his face with the gentlest touch, he can’t quite believe you’re real and not just some beautiful figment of his imagination. Slowly, slowly, one of his hands rises to touch the fingers resting against his cheek. Just to make sure this isn’t a dream.

Solid. Warm.

Not a dream. 

This is real.

He nods dumbly, a stupid smile spreading across his face. “Okay.”

You crush him close again and this time, Changmin’s arms automatically move to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He can feel a few tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you hold him tight, so tight, and he smiles, one hand coming up to pat your back.

You’re here. You’re here, alive, solid, real. He can feel your warmth against his body, feel your hair tickling his skin.

You may be ethereal. You may be something completely out of this world, beautiful, divine. You may be sparkling, glimmering, brilliant in the morning sunlight. You may be made of stardust, something too perfect (he’ll fight you on that) to exist on earth.

But now, with you wrapped warmly in his arms, Changmin realizes that even though you may be stardust, that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere.

A tear slips out of his eye as he smiles.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 cheek pinch for changmin idk why I just think that’d be fun <3)

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

The Only Living Thing

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Language.

Synopsis: You’ve been friends with BIlly Russo for as long as you can remember. Then, on that one night in New York, feelings get mixed up with the liquor that burns and everything spins out of control. So much for being the only living thing that Billy Russo has ever cared about... Or is it?  A/N: This just sort of happened. I may be writing more if you guys want, I think I can definitely take this further? I have a pretty hectic schedule but I might make it happen x

Song : Adam French - The Only Living Thing

New York, November 2019. 
 

Breathtaking. 


You are breathtaking, like the most beautiful view from atop the mountain or his biggest fear coming alive under his stare. 
 You’re a mix of excitement and terror, and you are enchanting enough to keep him on the tips of his toes, second-guessing everything, his every decision and every word... 

You are meant to leave him wanting more.

The night New York has never looked so good on a woman before.

Billy’s vision goes blurry for a second, his stomach hot and heavy.

You are glowing.

You radiate a kind of a warm sepia glow, so beautiful and genuine and so fucking effortlessy...

Smooth and unapologetic.
 


Messy strands of hair framing your face, your blushing cheeks, as you laugh your heart out, throwing your head back. Your pearl teeth flash in the dimness of the bar. Your thin black tights are torn at the thighs, your lips are red and irritated as you sink your teeth in, again and again.

Your laugh is flamboyant, intoxicating. Raw.

You are something else...

When suddenly, you see him, your black eyelashes fluttering as you wink at him. Billy’s chest feels too wide, too fragile and too hot. Do you see those unspoken words shining out of his drunken eyes?

When you make your way to him through the crowd, he’s paralyzed, afraid to move forward, afraid to scare you off, but mostly, afraid to let everyone see how desperate he is for your touch.

This is wrong, so fucking wrong, but why in hell when you come over, throwing your elegant arms around his neck, your cute perky nose touching his chest - it feels so. fucking. right?! Like you were custom-made for each other?...

Before he can stop himself, he slides an arm around your waist. You say something to him, something funny, for everyone around him snorts and chuckles, but his mind, his entire world - suddenly comes down to that spot just below his cheekbone where you plant a soft peck of your velvet pouty lips.

“Those twenty bucks we bet on? I win,” you half laugh, half exhale in his ear, your lips brushing against the lobe. “Madani is fucking obsessed with you”.

“Ah,” Billy smiles, both of his hands snaking around your waist now as he looks down at you.

...And I am fucking obsessed with us.

“And you just enjoy rubbing us - this! in her face right now, aren’t you?” he mutters instead, his temples buzzing with the gin and tonic he has been downing all night. 

God, he hopes you’re too buzzed to have noticed his slip of fucking epic proportions.

He promised himself he wouldn’t drink, not with you still around - because whatever it was that he felt for you mixed with liquid that burned equaled a very bad outcome. 

He might be well into the tipsy territory by now but Billy isn’t delusional. The chances that you would go back to his place or even kiss him back are entirely too slim.

Because friends don’t do friends.

Friends might as well become a new f-word for all Billy cares at this point.

When you throw your head back in an explosive laugh, Billy’s distracted. He gets an extensive view of your elegant neck, your delicate collarbones, but mostly - of the swell of your mouthwatering breasts, as your black silk top tightens over them. 

Fuuuuck him.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you echo his thoughts somehow as you wink at him once you’ve restored your breath, not stepping away from his embrace, however, letting him keep his hands on you. 

It’s always like this between the two of you. You’ve known each other for a while now - four, five years? After Billy bumped into you at a brunch at Liebermans’ and spilled his frappuccino all over your gorgeous rack. He wasn’t even going to come - but boy, was he glad he did - even though you wasted no time opening that sassy mouth of yours and verbally eviscerating him.

This wasn’t a love at first sight. 
 For you, at least.

“At least buy me a dinner first,” Billy barely manages, his vision a tad blurry.

He notices you giving him an unimpressed stare. Feeling stupid all at once, Billy blinks quickly and lets go of your waist...

Only to tremble on his feet and almost fall on his face.

“Heyyy,” he registers your breath on his cheek before he hears what you’re saying, your small hands holding him in place. Your touch burns through the fabric of his button down shirt as your palms slide up his sides to his shoulders. “You okay there, Russo?”

Billy squirms, chomping on his bottom lip as he grabs you by your elbows.

‘’M fine”, he says quietly, but doesn’t let go. When he lowers his stare to meet your eyes, he almost wants to cry. There’s concern in their bottomless depths, worry for him and desire to make it all better. He just wishes there was more heat there, and less of that f-word that ends with -riends.

“You don’t look fine, lover,” you retort, wiggling and pushing and pulling onto him until you’re snug under his arms and carrying his dead weight to the exit. “Let’s go get some fresh air, come on.”

Billy utters something half-heartedly, his head feeling like it’s filled with cotton. He didn’t even drink that much, as least he doesn’t think so. Must be your fucking intoxicating perfume, sweet but voluptuous and so fucking tempting...

Pure sin. 


Even drunk out of his fucking mind, he’s still the envy of every guy at that bar because he’s with a stunning, breathtaking, prettiest woman in the whole damn world that is you.

“If you were able to stand right now, that line might have gotten you laid,” you inform him with a laugh, basically carrying him to the exit on your shoulders.

Through the drunken haze, Billy realises he might have spoken those words out loud, but the terror is quickly replaced by...

“Are you shitting me?” He slurs, trying to stay vertical. “Are you saying you want me?”

By the time the words escape his mouth, you have pushed the exit door wide open and nudged him to step out. Losing his balance, Billy crashes into Frank, Stein and Madani, smoking outside.
 Dina’s eyes flash mischievously as you step out of the bar, immediately throwing your arms around Billy protectively, helping him to steady himself.

“Oh, so it’s common knowledge now, then?” Dina ventures, licking her lips bloodthirstily, her eyes never quitting yours. “You’ve finally admitted you want to drag that fine Caspian ass in your bed?”

The running joke aimed at Billy looking like a Disney prince feels out of place; all conversation is silenced out as you narrow your eyes at Madani, your grip around Billy’s waist instantly becoming tighter. Frank clears his throat in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness, but doesn’t intervene.

And Billy is... well, happy. Over the moon, actually, and still drunk off his ass.

Apparently, you have been wanting to drag his ass into your bed for a while now!

That does mean you see him more than a friend, right? 

What if... What if all this time you were just as hung up on him as he was on you, but neither of you had the balls to say anything?

In his picture perfect drunken world, Madani makes sense and his heart sings.

You want him.

If it were a Disney cartoon, animals would be singing and dancing around praising your couple. 

Frankie would have probably made a sick unicorn.

“Oh Dina”, suddenly your voice cuts right through Billy’s happy fantasy, and there’s way too much sass in that voice for it to belong to a Disney princess. “Just because your friend Sam here and your own desperate fan-girling ass carry a boner for some fucked up teenage fantasy that involves boinking Prince Caspian, doesn’t mean all women have that same one-track mind. Some of us can actually look past a dick and see a friend. So why don’t you lay off that Cosmopolitan and fuck off, vodka-cranberry sure ain’t making you brighter”.

Billy frowns, deep lines creasing his forehead.

Frank snorts with laughter, not even bothering to conceal his reaction. 
 
 You hold Dina’s hateful stare.

“Whatever, bitch” the latter one finally utters, throwing her cigarette away. “I never fucking liked you. Maybe after this your little fanboy here will see you for what you really are - a fucking coward and a tosser”, Billy’s stares at her in disbelief, his mind still foggy. Madani’s dark eyes flash dangerously in his direction. “Of all women, Russo... Karma is a bitch, isn’t she? Your little princess here only loves herself, lover. Get out while you fucking can”.

Smashing her shoulder into yours, Madani goes back into the bar, leaving equally dreary and awkward silence behind.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Frank isn’t laughing anymore as he folds his hands on his chest, giving you a questioning eye. 

You roll your eyes dismissively. 

“Well, she’s obviously shit-faced,” you shrug, sliding your hands off of Billy. “What, you’re surprised she hates me?”

It’s a whole another world there, in Billy’s head. Have you just distanced yourself from him after what Madani said? What, you thought he’s so drunk he wouldn’t fucking notice?

“...so just because I have basic restraint and actually appreciate a man as a friend, I’m a damaged bitch with a twisted sense of humour? Look, I don’t know, Frank”, you rub your eyes tiredly with the back of your hand.

“I do,” Billy suddenly chimes in hoarsely, his eyes bloodshot and dark, darker than usual, as they narrow at you. “Know. I know.” Billy stutters, then takes a deep breath. “That’s all I am to you then, sweetheart? A friend?”

Billy wavers a bit as he speaks, but his words are deadly. Your eyes pop wide open at his words, like Russo has just grown a penis on his forehead. Frank’s mouth forms a silent O.

And just like that, the tension is back.

“Well, of course you are my friend,” you say slowly, stretching out your hand in an attempt to grasp Billy’s wrist. Your eyes are searching his face, but he’s locked, like a goddamn prison cell. “You’re my friend and I love you”.

Wrong answer, if Billy’s expression is anything to judge by as he recoils  from your touch. His face is a mix of disappointment and anger, his lips a thin line as he turns away.

“Fucking idiot,” he mutters under his breath as he turns on his heels and makes a tentative step towards the bar. Only his body is ruled by gin and whatever shit he chased it with, so his feet get mixed up together. Billy trips over his own shoes. 

“Hey, easy there, tiger”, Frank, who’s been standing closer, grips Billy by his arm to help him keep his balance. “What’s gotten into you, man?”

Billy chuckles, throwing his head back, and that has got to be the most bitter sound you have ever heard. You shudder involuntary, watching Russo like a hawk.

“I would have given you the fucking world, you know that?” Billy stares you dead in the eye, grabbing the door handle in front of him. “You just keep fucking with my head like a fucking sadist, and I live by the shit you give me!” you blanch as Billy goes on with the program, hurt dripping from his mouth. “Must have always thought that should be some spectacular pussy you’ve been packing, totally worth all your shit”.

“Bill!” Frank calls him out sharply, his expression terrified. 

But the damage is done. 


Your eyes are brimming with tears, but you stay silent, unblinking. Your chest seems a little caved-in, but you hold your chin high as your trembling lips start to move.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you spit, “Fuck you, friend”.

The next thing he knows, Billy explodes in a fit of bitter laughter - even though all he wants to do is fucking cry.

This just goes to fucking show there’s no such thing as Disney fairytale in real life, is there?

“Oh don’t worry, friend, somebody will,” he promises you, swinging the door to the bar wide open. “Gonna go help Madani fulfil her teenage fantasy. While you can stay here, think about us fucking like rabbits and feel better about yourself”.

With those words thrown over his shoulder, he steps into the crowded bar, the sound of the door shutting behind him sounding final. 

Plot twist. Curtain falls.

Frank can’t even venture a look at you - he doesn’t even hear you breathing.

“He’s just piss off drunk, that’s it. He doesn’t mean it,” Castle attempts to do some damage control, even though he knows that that ship has most definitely sailed.

“Thanks, Frank,” he hears you say quietly, and as he raises his eyes, he catches the sight of you wiping your cheeks quickly.

You inhale slowly, closing your eyes and fisting your hands.

“Tell Karen and the guys I wasn’t feeling so hot, okay?” you ask, and there’s definitely pleading in your voice.

You never plead.

Before Frank can ever mutter anything about Karen having his head if he lets you walk away at night all alone, you wave at him dismissively. 

“I’ll see you”, you say as you collect your hair in a ponytail and walk off, your silhouette soon lost in the bustling New York night.

[thhimble]

we’ve got one thing in common (it’s this tongue of mine)

Henry Cavill x Reader x Chris Evans

The night slides together with alcohol and laughter, with a building, body-thrumming heat trapped between the three of you and growing brighter.

There’s no hesitation, no doubt, the idea’s been in your mind since Chris pressed a kiss to the top of your shoulder and wrapped an arm around your waist while Henry leaned forward to say something into your ear, his eyes shifting from yours to Chris and back again.

Warnings: soft squirting (it’s a thing, okay) a little bit of manhandling, but nothing too rough. i don’t think. No DP in this part, but maybe the next one… maybe. not beta read but i did my best.

This is also 9.2k of pure smuuuut so…heads up for that?

Also, the working title of this fic was:

this ain’t a crossover, baby(but we are crossing swords)

But we didn’t quite have any, you know, crossing swords so i sadly had to let that title go. :(

This is a Christmas gift to the amazing @rocknrollphanda​ who requested some Henry/Chris/Reader smut and since I’ve never written something like that before and i liked the challenge… here we are. 9k later.

Also, I’m sorry in advance, I don’t write/read Chris Evans so I hope he comes across okay from what I’ve seen randomly on TV or in gifs on my dash.

.

we’ve got one thing in common (it’s this tongue of mine)

Henry Cavill x Reader x Chris Evans

.

.

               You’re tipping into that tipsy that makes everything just that much smoother; that sheen, filter, ease to the world that makes everything just that much better.

You aren’t even sure how you ended up here.

Chris, just Chris, doll, forget the last name, is pressed up behind you, his hands on your hips and his breath in your ear as you move to the electric-tipped beat pounding through the bar.

Your fingers slide over the nape of his neck, scratching the short, prickly hairs at the base of his skull, his skin is warm, his hands are hotter. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, his mouth traces your pulse, and you can feel every hard curve, every shift of his muscles, from his chest pressing against your shoulders, his abs shifting along your spine, and the weight of his hips, that bulk in his jeans, rubbing against the curve of your ass every time you roll your hips back against him.

You can see Henry, through the shifting lights, your head tilted back enough to watch him the way he watches you. Drink in hand, leaning against the railing of the upper floor.

He meets your eyes, your heart pounds, Chris’ hand slides across your stomach to pull you tighter into the grind of his hips.

Distracted, he says and nips your pulse. You laugh a little, your eyes closing, trying to sink back into the beat, but you know Henry’s still watching, still there; imprinted behind your eyelids, dark-eyed, dark-haired with a voice like…

(It’s your smile, he says, leaning closer, voice just loud enough to carry, his hand coming up, his finger brushing into the curve of your cheek where you can feel the heat of your skin, that little ache of smiling too much.)

You open your eyes, Henry’s there, lifting his drink to his mouth, water, you think, just like you’ve switched to because you know where this is going.

You’ve known it for a while now, this burning bit of warmth in the bottom of your stomach, lingering between your hips with every glance, every laugh, every slick-fingered knock of a drink or a shot as the night went on.

Chris’ hand tightens on your hip and you grip the back of his neck, your eyes locked on Henry as you roll your hips back, letting your head loll a little, heavy-lidded, full of that alcohol-ease and something hotter, slicker, like the heat of Chris’ body, like the burn of a shot without any chaser.

Yeah, you think, you know where this is going.

              ��.

.

.

               There’s no preamble, there’s no, are you coming with, no, are you sure—

You slide from a bad first date to Chris’ laughter, to Henry offering you a drink and a smile, you could do better, to a round of shots and dancing, to the back of a black car and the gilded, too nice marble floors of a hotel lobby.

The night slides together with alcohol and laughter, with a building, body-thrumming heat trapped between the three of you and growing brighter.

There’s no hesitation, no doubt, the idea’s been in your mind since Chris pressed a kiss to the top of your shoulder and wrapped an arm around your waist while Henry leaned forward to say something into your ear, his eyes shifting from yours to Chris and back again.

And it’s not until the hotel door thuds closed and Henry’s hand is hot on the back of your neck, dragging you into his body, his thumb pressing up on the edge of your jaw to tilt your head higher, that you wonder if you’re making a mistake.

Not because you don’t know if you want it— not because of the alcohol or the bad date, (that left you feeling a little stupid and upset,) but because there— right there in the heat of his mouth, the sharpness of his teeth, the way he crowds you against the closed door and takes— just takes— like your breath is his and your mouth is his and his thumb slides over your pulse like he knows the exact moment your lungs are empty…and leaves you gasping, open-mouthed and swollen-lipped—

is the very real realisation that they might wreck you for anyone else.

His grin is sharp and he touches his forehead to yours while you’re still gasping for air. “Only fair,” he mutters, “Evans’ got the first.”

Chris snorts behind him, and it’s only then you register the lights coming on, a soft warm glow from the side table lamps, the clink of glasses, the shnick of the mini-fridge opening.

“Just ‘cause you don’t dance, old man.”

“You’re older than me,” Henry huffs, but he’s reaching down, his hands wide and heavy on your hips as he hauls you up into his arms, letting you wrap your legs around his waist as his teeth scrape your neck. “Asshole.”

“Yeah,” Chris laughs. “But you act ten years older.”

“Not true,” Henry mutters, but he’s sinking back into the couch, manhandling you until you’re settled on his lap and you’re sucking in a breath, feeling the bulk of his cock trapped in his slacks.

You card your fingers into Henry’s hair as his lips brush hotly over your neck, as you squirm into the weight of his cock, pressing down and his voice is a rolling, rumbling sort of thing you can feel in your stomach, your cunt, your fucking toes.

“God, that’s good,” you breathe out and Henry smiles into your skin.

“This is a much better kind of dancing, isn’t it?” he hums into your skin and you nod, because yeah, it really is. Even if it has more to do with the man beneath you and the cock you’re grinding against than the idea of a lap-dance in general.

His hands slide, all thick and warm and heavy along your thighs, up under the edges of your dress, a long-slow stroke that leaves you grinding down harder until you get that pressure right against your clit, the zipper on his pants pressing against you, his cock thick and hot even through the layers, spreading your lips, dragging your underwear slick and damp between them.

Henry breathes out into your shoulder as your arms wrap around his neck, clinging on because holy shit it feels good— that perfect sort of pressure and heat that spills extra dirty, makes you think back, trip back, to being younger and grinding against your palm, a pillow, still trying to figure out what felt good.

You’re pretty sure he knows exactly how good it is for you.

There’s the clink of ice next to your ear and Chris is there holding out a drink, it’s something fizzy and clear when you manage to drag your head up from Henry’s shoulder, blinking at the other man and his hand.

Henry snorts into your neck, nipping your shoulder before his hands are on your hips, beneath your dress, pushing you back just enough to throw off that perfect bit of pressure.

You whine, your whole body wanting; Chris grins and rolls the glass a little. You glare at Henry and tell yourself there isn’t a pout on your mouth, but by the way his lips twitch up, you aren’t so sure you believe your own lie.

“Sorry,” he grins but doesn’t look at all sorry. You huff and hear the clink of the ice again, looking over at Chris.

“Doll,” Chris starts and when you pull in a breath and let it out in a sigh, trying to find some patience for that needy thing that’s hot and warm between your hips, you reach for the glass, only to have it pulled back, and instead you get Chris’ hand at the nape of your neck, tugging you back a little, an awkward lean that leaves you gasping, held in place by Chris’ hand and Henry’s grip sliding to your ass.

Chris kisses you hard, his mouth is cool, touched by alcohol and the fizz of the drink, his tongue slick against yours.

Your hands tighten on Henry’s shoulders, feeling his fingers press in, slinking along the edge of your underwear, bunching it up more over the curves of your ass until it’s just skin beneath his palms.

When Chris lets you go, it’s with a grin and another roll of the glass, his eyes dark and his hair mussed from your hands earlier. “All’s fair.”

“Didn’t know we were keeping score,” you say breathlessly, taking the cool drink and swallowing it down, only just realizing how thirst you are, feeling it slide, cold and bright down your throat to settle in your stomach.

When you drain it, you breath out, your hand hovering with the empty glass as you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth, feeling the heat in your lips, the swollen warmth in them.

Chris slips the glass from your fingers, laughing as he drops down unto the other side of the small couch, leaning back into the corner in an easy slouch; he refills the glass with something out of a bottle, holding it out again.

Henry tugs you back in for another kiss, hard and quick before he’s tapping your ass cheek and pushing on your hip, tilting you towards Chris. You go easily, crawling over the short distance until your sliding into Chris’ lap, only half aware of Henry taking the glass Chris had poured and downing it almost as quickly as you had.

Chris’ lips are shiny with the drink and you lick the taste out of his mouth, letting him wrap his arms around you; the feeling of his beard, when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, prickles inside of your belly like it does on your skin.

For a minute, it’s just like you’re back at the club, with the weight of Henry watching you and Chris dance, the feeling of Chris around you, his hips twitching up as yours roll down… but it’s too quiet, just your breathing and theirs, the very distant sounds of late-night traffic so far down below the hotel room.

It trips inside of you, like the fizz of the drink, being here, suddenly—

You aren’t really sure you believe this is actually happening.

“Distracted,” Chris says, mouthing over your cheek. And you aren’t sure how he knows every time, but he does and you groan a little as he bites and sucks down your neck, tilting your head back and trying to gather your mind.

His hand eases up your thigh, under your dress, feeling how Henry left your underwear. He grunts into your neck and palms your cheek in a hard grip.

You look to Henry, who’s in that same sort of easy slouch Chris was, turned a little towards the other end of the couch, his back in the corner of it, watching you.

“Have you guys done this before?” you ask him, because your curious, because they seem so… calm, sure, confident in a way that’s broad-shouldered and steady. Sharp-toothed and hot-mouthed like every kiss you get swept up and swallowed by.

Henry laughs and shakes his head. “Can’t say I have.”

Chris laughs and nips your neck. “That’s a nope from me, too,” he says and when you look back at him, he sits a little straighter, wrapping the thick of his arms around your waist and hugging you to his chest and looking up at you.

“Really?”

Feeling your own smile on your mouth just at the way he’s smiling at you, you run your fingers through his hair, tilting his head a little higher before kissing him.

His heart beats against yours and there’s something easing about it, that physical closeness that isn’t just sex.

Until his hand smacks down on your ass and you yelp, jolting in his grip and huffing at his laughter.

“Really, really. We don’t make a habit of picking up girls in clubs in clubs just for a good ol’ tag team.”

You laugh. “I think we missed the tag team bit already,” you tease and steal a quick kiss when he lifts an eyebrow. “Pretty sure that’s more… you know, one of you and then the other. You two have basically kissed already.”

Chris’ face scrunches with laughter and you hear Henry’s echoing behind it, his head tilting back onto the couch.

“True, true!” Chris laughs. “Supes and Cap have swapped spit, it’s official.”

“Crossover of the century,” Henry laughs and you grin at him, sliding out of Chris’ lap and crawling back over to him.

You hear Chris’ hey— behind you, but clamber back onto Henry’s lap and grin at him as Henry kisses your jaw. “No tag-teaming,” you pout when you look at Chris. “It’s about equality.”

Chris laughs and raises his hands in surrender as Henry huffs into your neck. “Can’t argue with that.”

“And no high-fiving,” you say, your eyes flicking to Chris and back to Henry, leaning back to look at you, his eyebrow tilting up. “That’s a rule.”

“High-fiving?”

You nod. “No high-fiving, like good job, bro—Got ‘em!”

Chris’ laugh is loud and deep, got ‘em— his hand touching his chest as his head tilts back and Henry’s is deep and rolling against your body, nipping at your jaw as he tugs you closer, his hands on your hips, letting you find that same spot as before.

“Alright,” he forces out around a slowing laugh. “But I think that means I should get a dance, too.”

You look to Chris, who lifts his hand and gives it a little ‘go on’ sort of roll, wiping a hand over his face and still chuckling. “Equality,” he says and lifts his own drink to his lips with a smirk. “Since we’ve been banned from high fives.”

You grin and laugh, your hips winding until you feel that bump of the seam of Henry’s pants, the weight of his cock beneath it. Your body hums for the feeling of it, your mouth opening to pull in a breath as it sparks through you, grinding down right against it to chase that feeling.

It kills the laughter and replaces it with that heat that’s been building between the three of you all night; a swell of it, like it was a little dormant ember in your belly and all it took was a little spark to bring it back to life.

Henry palms your ass, gropes it to tug you tighter before his hands slide up the back of your dress, over your hips— you can feel your dress climbing, the cool air on your skin, but Henry kisses you and his mouth is so hot that you can’t pay much mind to the exposure until you hear Chris next you, his voice rough.

“That’s a fuckin’ sight.”

You can only imagine it, as Henry’s hand slide up your sides, your dress caught, bunched up over his wrists— the rolling grind of your hips, the shift of your ass, the bunch of your underwear stuck between your cheeks, the damp spot you can feel growing along the front of Henry’s pants on every slow-weighted roll of your body.  

You feel Henry’s hand inching along your spine, his fingers gathering up the silky fabric of your underwear, bunching it tighter to pull tighter, dragging through the slickness between your legs, adding even more pressure to your clit every time you grind down.

You whine into Henry’s mouth and grip onto him tighter, pressing against his chest as he tugs it again, his mouth hot on your cheek, his voice rough and warm.

“Can you come from this?”

No, you think, because it’s not that easy— but he winds the fabric around his fingers once and it pulls it tighter, and every tug, every roll of your body, every grind down against that teasing, thick weight of his cock trapped beneath the layers of his clothing.

“Yes,” you choke out and he grins against your cheek as you turn your head to look at Chris, his eyes burning, moving from your body to your face and back again.

He moves then, standing from the couch and moving behind you. You feel his hand on the straps of your dress, his fingers grazing along your skin, pushing the straps down your shoulders.

You tilt your head up, and the kiss is awkward but his mouth is hot as he leans lower to lick into your mouth, his fingers on the zipper on the back of your dress, easing it down your back. Your dress pools open, Henry sucks a mark into your neck, his hand gripping your hip tighter, urging the roll of your body as Chris works the band of your bra open.

You feel it loosen, feel Chris’ hands sliding over your shoulders, down your arms, tugging your bra out from between the press of your body against Henry’s.

Your nerves flair for a second, just one sparking second at the idea of being naked between two men— but Chris’ hands are cupping your breasts and Henry’s tilting you back and his hips are twitching up just this little bit— inching rolls that tease the idea of him fucking you, of the weighted roll of his cock moving inside of you and there’s nothing but the grind of your hips, that slick, wet glide of your cunt against his lap, the tug of his fingers pulling your underwear, sliding it against your clit every time your hips roll back.

His thumb slides over your nipple, trapping it against the side of his finger as he gropes you, adding this sparking, tingling surge of pleasure like a spark, winding through your body.

You hitch a moan, feeling yourself spilling closer and closer to that edge, you head falling back against Chris’s shoulder, and it can’t be comfortable for him, leaning down the way he is, but his mouth is hot on your neck and he sucks a mark, worries your skin, pinching and rolling your nipples between slow, hot-palmed gropes at your breasts.

You aren’t even sure when your eyes shut, only that they do, sometime around the time a slick noise starts up between the sound of your moans and their breathing; the sticky grind of your cunt against your soaked underwear and Henry’s lap.

You spill closer to the edge, your cunt throbbing with it, clit aching, it’s right there, right there—

And your lips are moving, your voice a whine, a hitching moan, oh god, oh god—

One of them groans, and you wonder if it’s enough to make Henry come too, but he’s still hard beneath you as you lose your body to the sparking rush of the orgasm he grinds you into; a slow-building, slow-easing one, thighs trembling, toes curling, chest quivering as Chris groans into your neck, gripping harder on your breasts.

He tilts your head back as Henry’s fingers ease out of your underwear, giving it a few more little tugs until your whimpering, twitching your hips against his lap; Chris kisses you with his hand on the back of your head, tilting over you a bit more.

Henry strokes your thighs, your sides, palming your ass as you hum a soft moan into Chris’ mouth, your body still sparking on every stickier, slower roll of your hips against Henry.

“Doll,” Chris grins, kissing your cheek with a laugh. “That was hot as fuck.”

Your head lolls against his shoulder again, but he’s pressing another kiss to your cheek before standing straighter, letting Henry pull you back into a seated position on his lap, his hand sliding up your spine to keep you steady until you can get your body to work.

As good as you feel when Henry licks into your mouth, his kiss is the sort of hard and demanding that makes your insides spark up again, like all your orgasm was was a slow exhale over a flame and Henry’s mouth is the fire feeding itself brighter.

You reach between your bodies, feeling the shift of the couch as Chris sinks back into the other side, your fingers finding the skin-warmed heat of Henry’s belt. His hand cups your jaw, tilting your head to kiss you harder— the first clink of his belt, the slide of leather—

Henry’s hand slides down to cup your throat, a little bit of building pressure as he breaks the kiss and pushes you back, sitting you straighter. Your spine tightens, your fingers curling along his belt as you suck in a breath, your pulse tripping, his thumb sliding on the side of your neck.

“Not there yet,” he says roughly, his hand tightens just a little more before he kisses you, stealing what little breath you have and there’s a building pressure as his hand flickers tighter— just before his mouth breaks away and he turns you and pushes you back roughly, dropping you back against the seat cushions.

Your breath leaves your lungs in a rush, pulse sparking; your head lands on Chris’ thigh and you blink up at him, his hand already slipping over the same spot Henry’s was, his thumb pressing into your pulse point.

“Hey there,” he grins and leans down to kiss you. It’s distracting, shifting from kissing one to the other, feeling the softer slide of Chris’ hand along your throat, palming your breast again, thumb sliding slowly over the peak of your nipple.

It winds through you, a teasing stroke, and you’re distracted enough by his mouth and hand that you’re only half aware of Henry moving between your thighs until Chris breaks the kiss and you both watch as he pushes your dress up over your hips, leaving it bunched around your middle, exposing the slickness between your thighs the way your underwear is stuck, sticky and twisted between your lips.

It’s a perverse sort of hot, even to you, and if the resounding groans that tumble out of both of them are clear enough, you’re not the only one who thinks so.

Henry’s finger slides right down the middle of you, right along the bunch and twisted silk covering your cunt, just brushing, just teasing over the swollen, damp heat of your clit beneath the silk.

You whimper and twitch and Chris’ hand twitches on your throat, keeping you still. You’re all watching as Henry slides his thumb along the soaked edge of your underwear, his thumbnail this little sharp spark that makes your insides twist.

“You gonna eat her out?” Chris asks, his voice rough. Henry nods, his eyes flicking up to yours as his thumb presses that much harder along the side of your cunt, slipping just a little beneath the twisted-up seat of your underwear, his thumb slick and hot, stroking through the mess of your release.

“Been dying to,” he says, watching his thumb slide along your cunt before looking back up at you. “Yeah?”

You nod eagerly, your insides burning with the idea of him thinking about it, your mind tripping back to the bar, the way he looked at you…

“He’s got a thing for eating pussy,” Chris says like Henry isn’t between your thighs with this look on his face that makes your cunt clench. “You learn some things about a guy when you drink together enough.”

Henry grins. “True.”

You watch him shift closer and you wonder if the front of his pants are as wet as you feel, and it’s a hot little thought, that you’re soaking into his lap still but that he’s shifting and kneeling on the floor, dragging your hips to the side as he tugs at the twisted-up underwear on your hips and yanks them down your legs.

Chris pulls you up a little, his hand sinking over your stomach and over your mound, his fingers push over it, pressed together until they split into a v, spreading your lips open between his fingers. “Fuckin’ pretty.”

Chris, you whine, your face burning, your hips squirming against nothing as the cool air brushes the wet heat of you, as they both just look—

And then Henry’s mouth is on the inside of your thigh and his teeth are sharp and deep and you’re crying out this tripping sort of whine as your knees jerk up and Chris’ fingers find your clit.

It’s sudden and too much and your eyes clench shut for the feeling of it all, for Chris’ thumb stroking soothingly over your cheek, but his fingers hot and weighted, rubbing this perfect sort of pressure over the sensitive, swollen heat of your clit.

Your face turns into Chris’ lap and his cock is right there, hard and thick in his pants and you move trembling fingers, trying to get your body to work because—

Someone— one of them— needs to get a dick out.

Chris laughs and you realise you said it out loud. He looks down at you, lifting a brow, but lets you fumble with his pants; he shifts back, sinking lower in the seat, his fingers still stroking your clit and distracting you.

Henry’s mouth comes off your thigh, but he’s licking, kissing, nipping along the inner curve, his thumbs stroking closer and closer—

Chris rubs you again, a heavier sort of push of his fingers before they slip wetly over your mound and up your stomach to cup your breast again; sliding a sticky finger over your nipple. A grin on his mouth as he tilts a brow at you when you yank at the button of his pants in frustration.

“Having some trouble?”

“C’mon,” you whine and then gasp as Henry hikes your leg over his shoulder and his mouth— his tongue— the heat of him is right there.

It steals your thoughts, making your spine arc, your body squirm— his tongue heavy and wide, licking you up from leaking core to swollen clit, rolling over you until he presses his face harder into you and sucks.

There’s nothing in you but that feeling, your hips twitching into his face, a jerky roll of your body to chase that pressure. Your face twists, your body burns, Henry’s mouth is—

“F-fuck—” you sob and feel Chris’ hand soothing over your cheek, his breath warm as he leans closer and kisses your forehead.

“Oh doll,” he rumbles into your skin. “You should see yourself.”

His hands slides over your stomach, gathering the bunched-up of fabric of your dress around your waist, and you can only imagine what you look like, hair mussed, body burning up, muscles trembling, hips rolling against Henry’s face.

You turn your head into Chris’ lap and he tugs on your dress; it’s this weird sort of binding around your middle, a pulse-spiking reminder that they’re strong enough to move you, manhandle you, to keep you where you are or make you go where they want you to go—

God, you shouldn’t like that as much as you do.

His hand strokes over your head, and it’s almost soft as he cups your breast again, playing teasingly with your nipple while Henry nips your clit with the sharp of his teeth and makes you insides twist tighter when he chases that nip with the flat of his tongue.

You get Chris’ pants open, but he has to shift to get his cock out, taking over for your unsteady hands as you try to focus, but with Henry’s mouth on you, it’s nearly impossible.

“G-god—” you hitch, giving into another burst of pleasure that pushes you closer to the edge as Henry’s thumb slides along the inside of your thigh, brushes along the slick curve, that tense, shaking tendon… brushes closer edging along your entrance, sliding thick and warm around it.

“Fuck— Henry,” you whine and you swear he smiles into your cunt, pushing his thumb that much closer, edging around your hole, a teasing weight, the tip of his thumb just edging in. “Asshole—” you choke out, your hips hitching down, trying to chase his thumb, to fill that ache between your hips, that need that leaves you clenching around nothing.

Chris laughs, low and warm and it’s only then you open your eyes to the sight of his cock right next to your head, his hand stroking it, slowly, thick and long and Jesus, Jesus— you think, how is that fair?

You reach for him, and it’s an awkward angle and you can’t really breath right, not with the way every breath is broken by the noises Henry drags out of you on the tip of his tongue.

But you curve your hand around him, revelling in the thick throb of his cock in your palm, that iron-hard heat beneath the smooth skin.

Chris groans, his head dropping back against the couch. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, the thick of his throat as he swallows, the shift of his shoulders as you stroke him… his hand gripping harder onto your breast.

“God, babe—” he groans at nearly the same time you feel the slip of Henry’s thumb dipping inside of you.

It’s just the tip, just enough to tease, circling your hole wetly, before sliding up and out and circling along the edge again.

You whine, you don’t even care how wanting it sounds. “Henry—” you choke, and roll your hips, searching for more. “Fuck— please—”

Henry hooks his thumb inside of you, stretching you, his tongue hot and wet and dipping inside along with it, stroking up and over the spread of you as his thumb presses a little deeper. He does it again, easing his thumb back to circle you before sinking it in… this slow steady rhythm that’s maddening, mind-tripping, pulse-spiking.

You can’t stay still, trying to roll further onto his thumb, gripping at Chris’ cock, your head turning toward it and you think about having it in your mouth, the weight of him on your tongue, but everything is wrapped up in that thumb, hooked inside of you.

“Distracted,” Chris teases, with this crooked smile that’s undone by the heat in his eyes. “Poor baby.”

“You do it,” you say, because the idea of it… of him using your mouth is hotter than anything you’ve really ever thought about. (Just a late-night, stomach-tensing fantasy, your fingers on your clit, your head pushing back into your pillow: a cock in your mouth, another inside of you, being taken apart, being wanted that much. That’s it, they’d growl, look at how good you take it.)

Chris looks down at you, his eyes narrowing, glancing at your mouth and then back to your eyes. It’s a moment to make sure, you think, to make sure you both understand what you’re asking for—

And you do, you think, you really, really do.

Chris’ hand knots into your hair, twisting your head a little more before he takes over your grip on his cock and feeds it into your mouth.

He’s hot and thick and you taste that bitter edge of precum, but he’s hitting the back of your throat and stretching your mouth wide and it’s perfect and perverse when his hips start to inch up as his hand tightens to hold you still.

It’s not hard, not like that deep-throat fucking you’ve seen in porn, because you aren’t sure it’s even possible with how your lips are stretched and your jaw is already as wide as it can go… but Chris rolls his hips up in these little pulses and you breathe as best as you can around the thick of his cock, pressing your tongue along the thick shaft, moaning around it when you feel Henry’s thumb push a little deeper.

It’s better than any slick-fingered fantasy.

You feel Henry’s mouth easing back and you almost whine for the loss before you hear him spit—

And your body burns bright at the feeling and idea of it, but he’s pushing two wet fingers inside of you and all you can do is moan around Chris’ cock, your body straining, back arcing as his fingers push in, curving up and rubbing right against that bundle of nerves.

You can’t suck in the breath you need, and you choke a little, moaning around his cock, but Chris soothes a hand along your cheek and your hips shift up in these needy pulses, trying to ride that cresting, burning wave of pleasure that fills up your body, sparking out from Henry’s fingers inside of you.

Chris’s other hand weighs down on your breast as your body trembles and squirms, half to get more, half to get away, until Henry curves his arm over your hips and pins you down.

You reach for Henry’s head because it’s almost too much— but his mouth finds your clit again, and there’s no escaping the build of your orgasm; an electrical wave of it, like a cracking flame between your hips, burning through your limbs, sparking inside of you as his fingers rub and stretch and rub and stretch—

You choke around Chris’ cock as you come; broken whimpers and choked moans, shoving at Henry’s head with the unsteady tips of your fingers.

Chris eases the roll of his hips, his cock slipping hotly out of your mouth using your spit to stroke himself right over your lips; his eyes moving from your face to your cunt and back again.

You pull in uneven breaths, feeling the heat in your lips, the tingling feeling of his cock rubbing over them. Your spine twitches up, your fingers twisted into Henry’s hair, your whole body trembling as you whimper every time Henry licks slowly, hotly over you, his fingers still buried deep.

“My turn,” Chris says and it’s the only warning you get before your being manhandled, Henry pushing your legs up and towards Chris while Chris pushes your upper body up and over to Henry’s side of the couch.

Your find your head in Henry’s lap, and you can barely blink at him before you feel Chris’ mouth on your clit.

There’s no warning; Chris sucks at your clit and sinks his fingers inside you, two sinking deep, pushing hard and steady right against your cunt like he’s fucking you with them, before pulling them back and doing it again.

“Sh-fuck—” you cry out, pushing at his head, but Henry catches your hands and pushes them together against the arm of the couch.

His mouth is hot and his tongue is slick with the taste of your cunt, his cheeks slippery beneath the rougher brush of his stubble…and it’s hot— weird, perfect to lick yourself out of his mouth until you’re groaning out over his cheek when Chris sinks a third finger inside of you.

“Come on, angel, one more,” Henry says roughly, his hand sliding along your jaw, his thumb under your chin, keeping your eyes on his.

It’s a lie, you think, it’s not going to be one more.

“Please,” you sob, your thighs trembling around Chris’ shoulders. You aren’t even sure if you mean please, it’s too much, or please, just fuck me. Because his fingers are wide but his cock is thick and you can’t think about anything else but feeling it, clenching around it… filling that bit of hunger low in your gut that even their fingers can’t quite sate.

But you’re already too close to the edge, still strung-out and wound-up by Henry’s mouth, and Chris’ focus on that bundle of nerves inside of you shoves you right back over the edge. You come hard and fast, your cunt clenching around his fingers, hearing the slick rush of your orgasm as he works you through it.

There’s no word for the sound that comes out of you, some whining sob, over-sensitive with every nerve on fire, your body strung tight, your mind completely consumed by the sparking edges of it racing through your whole body in a way you’ve never felt before.

“I think she just squirted a little.” Chris laughs into your cunt and curves his fingers. You kick his shoulder with an unsteady, shaky leg.

“Fu-ck off— did not,” you groan and Henry huffs a little laugh, looking to Chris and then back to you, his eyebrow tilting.

“Can you?”

You shake your head, because no, you think, I’ve never— that’s not possible— but your words are trapped in your throat and beneath the drum-beat of your pulse in your ears, that full-body hum of your orgasm and you can’t get your brain to work enough to say any of it.

But Chis lifts his fingers and holds them out for both of you to see and watch as your orgasm drips off of his fingers and splatters against your belly.

“You sure?”

You suck in a breath, watching it slide over your stomach, shiny and wet and so obvious it makes your body burn.

Henry groans a little, pressing a kiss to your hot lips. “Guess we’ll find out, huh?”

You whine in your throat, shaking your head again, even if your cunt clenches at the idea of it, as Henry’s hand slides down your throat and over your chest until he cups your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

It’s a softer spark compared to the ache between your hips, but it’s a little, tingling burst of heat prickling through your body, keeping you wanting.

Kneeling on the couch, Chris tugs off his Henley, his muscles shifting, abs flexing— and it’s a sight you’ll remember, you think, the way he shoves down his pants with one hand while ripping open a condom with his teeth.

He has more tattoos, you realise, more than the glimpse of the one you saw in the ‘v’ of his shirt, more black ink on his chest, that you can’t quite make out, an eagle on—

You’re on your belly before you can register Chris’ hands on your hips. Your face in Henry’s lap and his cock hard against your cheek. It makes your cunt clench, your insides spark, rubbing your cheek along that bulk, your nerves sparking because it feels thick and heavy and too fucking big.

Henry groans and his hips twitch up as Chris hauls your hips up almost as quickly as his palm smacks down; the slap is loud and sharp and you cry out and bury your moan into Henry’s lap.

“Fuck,” one of them says, but your too— sparking, caught up, lost in the moment to figure out who said it when Chris’ palm smacks down again.

“Fuck, doll, your ass,” Chris groans and then you feel his cock, nudging along the soaked heat of your cunt, thick and hot and pressing in. It’s a slow press, the stretch steals your breath and leaves you gasping, open-mouthed at Henry’s cock; his hand bracing on the nape of your neck as you curl your fingers into his belt just for something to hold onto.

You feel like a doll, you think, held in place as Chris’ cock splits you open, his hands bruising on your hips, Henry’s cock beneath your cheek, his thumb stroking soothingly over your skin. You can’t get your body to work, too strung out by the feeling of Chris pushing inside of you so slow and steady.

His hand slides from your ass cheek to your lower back, and he presses down on the arc of your spine, tilting your ass higher as he bottoms out, his hips pushing tightly against your ass.

You gasp and try to shift forward, because he’s long and thick and you feel stuffed by it, this sharp little spark deep in your gut…

“Maxed out,” Chris says with a breathless laugh that’s more like a groan. “Fuck that’s good.”

You’re panting on Henry’s lap, turning your face to gasp for cooler air, letting out a jolting curse as Chris’s palm smacks down again before he rubs over the heat of your skin his palm left behind.

“Okay, babe?”

You nod, your cheek rubbing over Henry’s cock, and it feels so perversely good that you do it again, turning your head to rub your mouth over it, letting your tongue press hot and damp at the material of his pants.

“Christ,” Henry curses and he shifts, working open the front of his pants, his hands sinking inside the open front to tug his cock out. He strokes it in front of you, and your cunt clenches for the sight of it, thick and long and—

Jesus, you think, you aren’t sure you’re going to be able to walk tomorrow.

Chris groans behind, his hips twitching forward. “Felt that,” he says and then pulls back—

The first thrust tips you forward, your chest pressing hard into the thick width of Henry’s thigh, your breasts rubbing against the couch, you cry out, gasping at the feeling of being filled up so quickly.

“Sh-hit,” you whine. “F-fucking— Chris—”

You grab at Henry’s cock, half for balance and half for the want to have him in your mouth the way you did for Chris. But all you can do is grip on, your breath puffing against it, Henry watching your face twist and your voice break as Chris sets a steady, unrelenting pace.

You were wrong, you think, this— this is mind-wiping: the steady, almost too hard stroke of Chris’ cock inside of you, every knock of his hips against your ass, every bright flare of being too full before being emptied out again.

There’s a hand on your cheek, soothing over your forehead, right along your hairline, you can feel the heat in your face, the burn of your cheeks, but Chris’ cock is hard and thick and dragging in and out of you so perfectly that there’s nothing you can do but give in to it.

Every thrust in nudges that too much edge of fullness, that brief flicker of a sharpness, maxed out, just like he said. Every dragging pull back is this moment of clawing desperation and anticipation for the next, stretching, filling push in.

Your back aches in the angle as Chris pulls your hips up a little higher, but it’s so good, that little counterpoint to the pleasure burning and building and dripping out of you.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Chris groans. “You’re soaked.”

And you are, you can feel it, a slickness between your thighs, and when Chris’ hand slides beneath you, his fingers rub slippery over your clit, soaked and over-sensitive and you can’t stop the pitching cries breaking out of your chest.

It’s God and Chris and please— drawn-out whines you get lost in it, sparking and too hot, your back arching more, Chris’ strokes deep and steady and just bordering into too hard, shoving you down until it’s just your ass arched up, needy and trembling, your legs boneless and shaking.

Henry’s cock is thick, right against your cheek, but you don’t have anything in you to do more, your muscles quivering, burning up until that aching heat inside of you that’s building on every stroke of Chris’ cock, every smack of his hips against your ass, is bursting—

You tense up just before you come, your eyes squeezing shut, breathing in hot damp air in the curve of Henry’s lap and his cock in your hand, pressed against your cheek, his belt digging into your forehead.

Chris curses behind you as you lose your body to your orgasm and all it’s sparking edges, your hips winding up, pushing your ass a little higher, your feet hitting the arm of the couch like you can push away from that endless, prefect stroke of his cock—

But you can’t. Chris fucks you through it, harder than before, his arm wrapping beneath your hips to hold you up, Henry’s hand on your nape to keep you still—

Your near sobbing through it, strained, pitching cries as your toes curl and the nails of your other hand sink into Henry’s thigh.

Chris’ hips shove down, his voice rough and groaning as he comes, his cock twitching and pulsing on one last too deep, grinding thrust of his hips; pushing his weight against your ass in these slowing pulses just like his cock.

When he pulls back, the thickness of his cock leaving you makes you whimper, and he laughs, this rough, breathless laugh before his palm smacks down on your ass again and he drops back into the other half of the couch, dragging your legs into his lap.

You’re boneless, mindless, lost to that feeling inside of you, breathing hard— but you’ve barely caught the blown-apart edges of your mind before they’re flipping you over and manhandling you to face the other way.

You blink up at Chris.

“Fu–ck you guys,” you say breathless and weak, body still quivering. “Holy shit.”

He grins down at you, sweaty and dishevelled and your sure there’s some sort of dazed look in your eye because he breathes another laugh and leans down to kiss you. It’s awkward and messy, you’re both breathing too hard, but it distracts you for a moment until you hear the crinkle of foil and feel the stretch in your thighs and the grip of Henry’s hands on your hips.

“Oh god,” you whine because there’s no way you can go again, you think, but Henry’s mouth is on your breast and there’s this rolling sort of sound of his chest that’s a sure you can, darling— as his teeth scrape your nipple before pulling it into his mouth.

Chris grins and brushes his hand over your forehead, and his eyes move from you to Henry and back.

“You felt so good, doll,” he starts and you blink up at him, your chest hitching up as Henry bites your nipple again before sucking a hard, bruising mark into the curve of your breast. “And your sounds—” he groans a little, dropping another biting kiss against your lips. “I can’t wait to hear them again.”

Your breath trips, your eyes flutter closed as that stupid spark in your gut starts to burn brighter.

You feel Henry’s hand slide along your thigh, sinking between your legs, his fingers slip over your clit and you twitch and gasp, squirming for the feeling tripping through you, but his hand turns and his fingers brush over the soaked mess of your cunt before they sink inside of you, steady and deep.

“Fucking soaked,” he groans roughly.

Your back strains up. “G-god—” you moan, the sound stretching into a whine as two of Henry’s fingers stretch inside of you, pushing deep and pulling back only to widen, working you open until he slides another finger along your entrance and you tense up, on edge for that stretch—

But you’re so wet it sinks inside of you like the sweetest sort of ache, leaving you gasping and hitching for air, pulling in little breaths as he curls his fingers, stretches them out, a teasing burst of electricity up your spine before that little ache of him stretching you out more.

You get a little lost in the rhythm of it, his mouth on your chest, kissing up your neck until his licks into your mouth— and it’s a distraction, this slow and deep kiss, until he’s leaning back on his knees and yanking you a little bit closer to his body until your head is just barely on Chris’ thigh and your legs are over Henry’s shoulders.

He strokes his cock and you can’t not watch. Thick and heavy, his fingers shiny, spreading your slick over the length of his cock, and then he’s scooping his fingers through your cunt again, getting his hand wetter, before stroking them once more over his cock—

You and Chris both choke on a groan, but it’s Chris who manages to get his brain to work. “Shit,” he laughs. “This is way better than porn.”

Henry cocks an eyebrow, a crooked grin on his mouth before he hauls your leg a little higher on his shoulder and feeds his cock into you.

You tense up almost at once, hands gripping at the couch, nails scratching at the fabric, your head tilting back with a curse in your throat as Henry’s hips inch forward in these slow little pulses.

“Ohgod,” you choke, ohg-god—shi-tshit—

It’s too much you think, there’s no way— no fingering of fucking or any amount of orgasms are going to make that less overwhelming, mind-consuming, holy shit—you might just come just from that achingly good sort of pain, that too full, too bright stretch.

You try to cling onto the edges of your mind, biting your cheek and breathing hard, your chest quivering and whimpering when Chris gropes at your breast, kneading it and rolling your nipple along the side of his finger and thumb.

“You gotta let it out,” Chris says. “Come on, let us hear you.”

You shake your head, trying to breathe through it… but here’s no escaping it, Henry’s works his cock into you in little inching pulses— until you can feel the slicker glide of it, the easing stretch… the thick of his head is just brushing the end of you. And it hurts in that good way that leaves you trembling, caught on the edge of wanting to pull away and dying to get more.

His eyes meet yours, he presses in a little more— eases back and does it again and again until you’re squirming to feel more. Until that ache is a softer thing, lingering beneath the weight of his cock inside of you.

When he hooks both of your knees over his shoulders, it drags your lower body up higher, leaving your head on Chris’ thigh, but letting you both watch the thick of his cock sinking inside of you as he drags his hips back and pushes in.

Your pretty sure that’s a sob in your throat and that Chris is saying something too you, but all you can feel is Henry’s cock, hitting you deep and steady as he sets this relentless, grinding sort of roll, his cock staying deep, keeping you stretched and full and pushing you right into that hazy fucking mess of too much and don’t stop.

“Babe,” Chris groans, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Look at you.”

Your mound is soaked, your skin shiny all the way to your belly button, a slickness between your thighs that leaves a sticky shine on Henry’s abs on every rolling grind.

Your thighs are trembling on his shoulders, toes curling, legs quivering over the broadness they’re hooked over, but Henry leans back a little more, holding your thigh on his shoulder, the other curving to grip your ass cheek to hold you up higher, to keep you where he wants you.

Jesus, you think, or sob, you aren’t sure. Your body trembles, your voice breaking out of you as he pushes in again, deeper this time, his cock pushing against your cervix and leaving this ache between your hips that feels like your so fucking full of him he’s in your fucking lungs.

There it is, one of them says, but you can’t do anything but breathe and hold on, swallowed up the feeling, the ache, the burn of pleasure that’s less sparking and more like liquid heat, like you’re being consumed one slow, deep, too thick roll of his hips at a time.

He stays steady and deep, it’s not even really fucking you think—there’s no ebbing tide, no room to breathe, his cock pushes steadily, thick and deep right against that too-deep ache that turns your insides into something molten and too hot… until your sure you’re almost sobbing with it, your spine winding up, higher and higher, the back of your head rubbing on Chris’ thigh…

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

Henry holds you steady, grinding into you, making you take it without any mercy. Without any real thrusts. Just a steady, little inching roll of his hips, almost this little, controlled-bounce of your ass against his lap.

Your thighs clench, muscles tensing as his cock burns you from the inside out, leaves you choking for air, hitching noises that you can’t describe, until everything’s burning brighter. Until your spine strains up, your chest shaking, your nails scratching at Chris’ forearm, clinging onto him as Henry fucks you through that building, consuming thing that feels like it’s going to eat you alive any second now.

His hand bruises into your thigh and ass as you lose your body to the fire, the thick of his cock pushing that ache deep in your gut, holding you still as you come apart. Cunt clenching as you sob, clamping down around his cock— and you’re choking for air as he fucks you through it, grinding into you, sending a sharper, deeper bust of that ache through your body.

“Fuck,” he growls, fuck— and it’s too much, you think, too much—

But he tilts forward and pushes into you, swallowing those sounds that you can’t hold in, a sloppy kiss that leaves you breathless, nails sinking into his ribs as his hips shove up in a rough grind as he comes.

You feel surrounded, Chris’ arm trapped between your body and Henry’s. Henry’s breath hot on your mouth when he kisses you one last time before pushing back and sinking back into the other side of the couch.

Your mind hums or the room does… or maybe it’s just your heartbeat in your ears, your body lost to the waves of whatever the fuck that was that’s still flowing through you.

Someone’s hand strokes over your stomach and it feels weird and too wet, and you have to tilt your head up and blink down to look at it to make sense of the feeling.

Chris trails his hand through the shine on your skin, the pooling liquid that gathers in your belly button and fucking soaks the couch beneath you.

You blink at it, trying to make sense of it when Chris’ voice breaks the quiet.

“See,” he says roughly, hid fingers sliding through it. “You can absolutely squirt. Fuckin’ look at that.”

You groan, feeling Henry’s hand on your leg, his thumb stroking your skin slowly. “Next time we’ll try for an actual squirt, yeah?”

You’re pretty sure you whimper, your stomach tensing with the idea of it, with the words next time burning through you, but the silence stretches again; the wetness on your skin and soaking the couch, cools and makes your shiver. You don’t know if you have enough willpower to move out of the wet spot, let alone take a shower.

“Wait, we almost forgot,” Chris starts, and before you can squint up at him, his hand is up and Henry’s breathless, low laugh rolls through your still-boneless legs resting in his lap.

The slap of their hands echoes in the quiet and you groan, covering your face with your hands.

“I hate you both, oh my god.”

Lies, one of them says, but you’re all laughing tiredly, stuck together with no desire to move and you know it’s not true as Henry’s thumb strokes your ankle and Chris’ hand trails slowly, smoothly, through the mess on your stomach.

Not true at all.

Got ‘em, you think, and let your eyes close.

.

.

[suneatersupportsquad]

red handed; colby brock

request:  im not sure if you do requests or even any imagines for colby brock anymore but i was wondering if you cold make a exception, so basically the plot is that the reader met colby through kat and since then they hit it off, now their in a secretive relationship the only person who knows is kat but she only knows the reader has a crush on colby. one day everyones hanging out in the same room room and colby is sexting the reader, sams curious to whos hes texting and they find out their dating.

dedication: @whydontweanons​

genre: fluff, subtle smut?

pairing: colby brock x gn!reader

characters: colby brock, sam golbach, katrina stuart, corey scherer, jake webber, kevin langue, brennen taylor, devyn lundy, tara yummy

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, what would probably be underage drinking, NSFW (barely), sexting (duh), mentions of COVID-19, quarantine

a/n: of course i’ll still write for sam and colby!! it’s just that, since i’m not as active of a follower of them as i used to be, my goal is to write for fandoms that i’m more invested in at the moment. but, honestly, i don’t think i could ever really stop writing for them. i love those boys so much. also this plot made me laugh so hard when i saw it in the best way possible. getting this request honestly made my day, so thank you for that!! anyways, i’m a little rusty, but here we go.

important links: masterlist

find more fics at my new blog @trapboysbunny

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.” 

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

.x

[emmies-archives]

Heads and Tails

Genre: Fluff, Angst, College AU

Warnings: Aged up, smut, drinking, blowjobs, good old fashion drunk hookup, self degrading at one point, ahhh non descriptive smut....

Wordcount: 6.8k (my bad)

Summary: You slowly become best friends with Noya. One night you get drunk with him and Tanaka and it leads to drunk confessions. You two start dating afterward, you try to surprise him one day by at practice but his old feelings for Kiyoko bring out your insecurities when you see him talking to her. 

A/N: This took wayyy to long to write, and it’s a lot longer than I expected. First piece for Haikyuu and I was drinking wine while writing most of it so please forgive typos. The ending is ehh because I just wanted to get it finished. 

Inspired by a rp with @astrid-thirsts (....... Its not as much angst as I said)

You couldn’t remember the last time you were excited for a volleyball game. They weren’t something new you went to. You had always watched Karasuno’s boys team play, ever since you were little. Fond memories filled your thoughts whenever you thought about going to the matches. For a while though, there was something missing. The excited cheers from fans started to dwindle and you found less and less seats being filled. There were no longer group hugs when the team won. Replaced with hung heads and silent tears. But you kept going. Even as the boy’s losses stacked against them so high it cast a shadow big enough to drown them. Things started to change this year.

Rumors floated around the school pretty quickly. Apparently, there were knew recruits on the team and they had pretty good potential. It piqued your interest. If there was a chance that the team could start building back the foundation it once had, you wanted to be there to see it.

You decided to take the long way back to your dorm one day. It gave you a chance to walk by the gym where volleyball practice was held. You walked for a while, a tinge of excitement pooling in your stomach at the thought of maybe getting to see the team up close. For years you had watched them from high up in the bleachers. The only constant as the members came and went.

As the gym came into view, you slowed your pace. A part of you wanted to peek through the doors. With a sudden burst of courage, you went up to the doors. The few steps seemed like forever. Reaching a hand out to push one side open, your heart jumped when it slide open right when you touched it. The first thing you saw was a pair of bright brown eyes. The boy tilted his head a bit and you noticed a towel wrapped around his neck.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

That was one of the first times you had actually spoken to him, you weren’t even sure if he had known your name before. You weren’t a stranger to Nishinoya. He was in a few of your classes; you had just never really talked to him all that much. You didn’t know if it was the fact he was on the volleyball team, or that you had a huge crush on him but, it even thinking of talking to him made you nervous. I wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk to him, he was just overwhelming. Constantly full of energy, lighting up whatever room he walked into. The idea of just walking up to him and striking a conversation was intimidating. So, when one day you got paired together for a project you didn’t know if you were excited or scared.

It was easy to talk to him. A lot easier than you expected. Something about him always drew you in, even if he was going on and on about the volleyball team for the fifteenth time in the hour. The playful energy that exuded from him held a welcoming arm out to you. Like it was offering everything you’d ever wanted, even if he didn’t realize it. But you took it. Grabbed its hand and ran.

Its grasp eventually led to more nights spent with him, even after the work necessary for the project was finished. It sort of became the new norm for you. After his evening practice, you would either go to his dorm or he’d come to yours. The conversations came easier, shifting from class and volleyball to shared hobbies. You learned more about him than you ever thought you would. Every time you left his dorm, your head swarmed with the memories of the night. The entire walk home felt like you were floating, and you kind of felt ridiculous for it. The way your heartbeat sped up when he was close, or how your eyes lingered on him when he wasn’t looking shouldn’t happen. Especially because you weren’t sure if you’d ever get the courage to tell him your feelings. Little did you know, Nishinoya felt the same way.

He started to rush through the end of practice just so he could see you after. Just spending time with you was the best part of his day. He didn’t realize what his feelings were, just that he was happy when he was with you. It wasn’t until he brought you up to Tanaka at practice for the fifth day in a row did he slowly start to think different about you. Tanaka didn’t help either, teasing him about if that’s the reason he left practice early. If you knew about that, Nishinoya was sure you’d chew him out.

Your love for volleyball was only one of the things that drew him in. It was the way you always found the good in something, even if it felt like the world was ending at the time. One time he came texted you about a test in one of his classes, his grade ended up being a lot lower than expected and he was a little annoyed. You just offered to help him study for the next one, wanting to make him feel better. To him it felt like the entire weight was lifted off his shoulders just with that one response. There were other things too, of course. You were incredibly beautiful, catching his eye before you even became friends.

Months went by and the two of you fell in routine. He would meet you halfway between his dorm and yours before classes, walking you to yours which barely left him any time to make it to his. You told him you were fine when he mentioned it to you on accident one morning, but each day he stood under the same lamppost waiting for you. Slowly, without meaning to, you fell in love with him. But it didn’t feel like falling. It was more like stepping into a warm embrace.

 “Yuu?” Your voice was quiet as you called his name for the second time in the past few minutes. Slightly amused you nudged him with your foot under the table, trying to get his attention. “Nishinoya?!”

“Oh, sorry!” He set his phone on the table, a goofy grin on his face when he looked up at you. “Did you need something?”

“I was helping you with your Algebra homework. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“You’re going to be pretty disappointed then, because I haven’t done a problem in at least a half hour.” You couldn’t even be mad at him; all you could do was shake your head. He promised he’d work on his homework for the next hour. He lasted maybe ten minutes before groaning and pushing the paper away from him. “This is too boring. It’s a Friday, we should go out and have some fun!”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Wanna get drunk?”

 Three hours later, after an embarrassing little bit of Nishinoya watching you get ready as he laid on your bed, you ended up in Tanaka’s dorm room. Drink in hand you sat in his desk chair as Nishinoya and him sit on the ground in front of you.

This wasn’t what you thought when he mentioned getting drunk, but it was fun, nonetheless. You preferred this. Nishinoya was a popular guy so you figured he’d bring you to one of the clubs near campus, but this felt different. Maybe even special. Just you two and his best friend. Something about it was heartwarming. Until Tanaka brought up their manager again. It had been so many times the night already that you were tired of hearing about it.

“I’m telling you, y/n. It is better when she ignores me!” Tanaka yelled emphasizing his words by throwing his arm out, causing his drink to slosh over the edge of the cup.

“Really? I would’ve thought that being ignored would hurt.” You say, trying not to glance at Nishinoya when you do. Your feelings completely opposite your words.

“No, no it doesn’t. I don’t know how to explain it. Noya! You try for me; I can’t think straight.”

“Ahh, I don’t know man.” You didn’t notice the slight discomfort lining Nishinoya’s words or the way he looked to you as he responded. Already on your fifth drink of the night, you started to feel your head swim past tipsy. You caught his glance smiling into your cup as you drank more of whatever concoction he had made you.

“How’s your drink, y/n?” Nishinoya asked standing to make himself another one.

“Really good actually!” Your voice was louder than you anticipated, making you cringe slightly. “How are you so good at making drinks?”

“I learned my secret from those old Italian grandmas on youtube. I just don’t measure anything, letting my heart decide what to put in it.” All you could do was stare at him as he demonstrated. Tossing random things into his cup, trying not to make a disgusted face at the amount of alcohol you watched him pour.

“Did you… put that much into all my other drinks?” His toothy grin was enough of an answer and you stared into your cup. You hadn’t even tasted the liquor.

 Several rounds and a few shots later, it was your turn again. You had brought up the idea to play truth or drink. It was a game you had always played with your girl friends back home, so you decided why not. The amount of alcohol in your system didn’t help either.

“So, y/n.” Tanaka started, you could already see the evil look in his eyes. “Out of everyone on the volleyball team, which one of use would you want to hook up with?”

The question should’ve startled you, it probably would’ve if you hadn’t had the boost of vodka running through your veins and the newfound courage that came with it. Your answer came with no hesitation, you even looked into his eyes as you said it.

“Noya.” Your eyes flicked from his wide eyes to the growing smile on his lips. Not at all aware to the blush that flooded his cheeks.

 “Oh, dayum. I thought for sure you’d drink to that one.” Tanaka said but you didn’t really pay attention to his words. Your eyes focused on Nishinoya, feeling like if you ripped them from him. You’d never be able to look him in the eyes again.

“You’re turn, y/n.” Nishinoya’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Not able to tear his eyes away from yours.

Caught up in the moment, you direct your question towards him. “Yu-“

Your words are cut off as Tanaka lets out a loud groan, drawing your attention to him.

“Grossss, you guys can take that shit elsewhere. I’m gonna text Kiyoko again.”

 That’s how you found yourself sitting on one of the campus’s benches, your side nearly pressed against Nishinoya.

“Y/n, you look so beautiful under the light from the lamppost.” In your drunken state, you found his normally constant flirting cute. Your cheeks burn lightly from the deep blush resting on them. The two of you sit in silence after that. Neither of your quite ready to go back to your dorms.

“You know, I never got to ask you my question.” You say as you lean your head against his shoulder.

“You’re right, I forgot.” His response was short, but you could hear the hopeful tone swimming in it. “You can ask me now if you still want to.”

“Yuu, will you kiss me?”

“I don’t think that would’ve worked as a question, y/n.” He answered.

“God, just shut up and kiss me.” You quipped back, moving to face him. He didn’t even respond. Cupping your cheek, you both leaned in, you were too impatient to wait for him. The kiss was soft and sweet, ending too soon. You wanted more.

 Ten minutes later after dragging him to your dorm you pushed the door open. Thankful you didn’t share it with anyone as you pulled him into the room. You gently pushed him to sit on the bed, sitting on his lap arms wrapped around his neck loosely.

“I wasn’t kidding. He spoke. “You really do look amazing tonight.”

You hummed in response, not trusting your voice. Staring into his warm brown eyes, the fairy lights that light up your room danced in the reflection of them.

“You’re so handsome, Yuu.” Your voice is quiet and uneven as you talk. “You always are, I know I’ve never told you that before.”

“You’re drunk, y/n.” His voice matched yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“It’s your fault, dummy.” You shook your head, laughing at the amount of alcohol he probably put into your drinks, not realizing how fast you would drink them. “I meant what I said you know.”

“Really? I thought that was just for the game, you wouldn’t prefer someone else?” You could see the hope swirling in his eyes.

“Absolutely not. I don’t like anyone else.” You answered while your hands gingerly played with the ends of his hair.

“You like me?” His eyes widened at your statement and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“You didn’t realize?” You asked and he shook his head as his answer. “I thought I made it a little obvious, but yes I do.”

Your voice was nearly a whisper as you leaned in close to him. Breath ghosting over his lips, you could feel him shiver a bit and it put a smile on your face. He didn’t have to respond with words to make you know he felt the same way. Your lips connected again, this time different than before. Rough and passionate. Like he was pouring everything he was holding in into your lips. You did the same, every pent-up emotion you felt for him, every lingering gaze you spent trying to make yourself confess, every single thing.

The kiss became rougher, teeth clashing and noses bumping as you pulled closer to him. Unknowingly grinding your hips down into him at the way his tongue slipped into your mouth. A soft whimper slipping from your lips.

“Yuu..” You breathed out when he pulled away, panting himself.

“Fuck, y/n. Your lips are so soft.” He leaned in again, pulling you into another kiss. You could taste the lingering vodka on his tongue as it danced with yours. Both of you fighting for dominance. He groaned as you pushed your fingers into his hair, tugging gently at it. He jerked his hips up and you could feel him against your core. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You’re just….”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, smiling as you slipped off his lap. Hands sliding down his torso, stopping at his waistband. The tent in his pants already obvious. You looked back up to him, waiting for him to give you some sort of confirmation you could keep going.

He grabbed your hands gently, leaning in to press another short kiss against your lips. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. Just, let me take care of you.” Confidence flooded your voice in your drunken stupor. He could only nod at your words and you moved your hands lower, palming his hardness through his pants. Enjoying the quiet groans that fall from his lips at the sudden friction. You tug on his waistband and he shifts his hips up, helping you pull his pants down. You move up pressing your lips against his again as you slip your hand into his boxers. Feeling him hiss lightly against your lips at your hand against him.

“Ah, shit-“ You could barely hear his groans as you focused wrapping your hand around his cock, loosely stroking it.

“You’re already so hard, Yuu. Did my answer affect you that much?” He bit his lip nodding again at your words as you worked your hand. A smile tugged at your lips.

You moved down further, placing soft kisses against his abs. Feeling him shudder as you trailed down, stopping at his boxers before pulling them down all the way. His member springing free, slapping against his stomach

“You’re so pretty.” You ran your tongue up the underside of his cock lightly, admiring the way it twitched lightly in your hold before swirling your tongue around the tip as you pumped the rest of his length. Hearing his quiet groans pushed you forward, and you looked up to him, meeting his gaze and you slowly brought more of him into your mouth. Watching as his head fell back through your blurry vision.

“I should be the one saying that, y/n.” He said, his voice unsteady.

You pulled back with a pop, smirking up at him. “Don’t hold back, let me hear you.”

You wait for him to respond before dipping your head back down, taking him into your mouth again. A loud moan fell from his lips as you did, and you had to press your hands into his thighs to keep him from bucking up into your mouth. Once he stilled himself, you started wrapping your fingers around what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. Swiping your tongue over the slit that leaked precum already.

You could feel his thighs twitching under you as you worked your mouth on him. Breathing through your nose and relaxing your throat you pushed your face down until your nose brush against his pelvis. The loud moan that ripped from his throat made you hum approvingly, and you moved your hand to play with his balls. When you pulled away just enough to breathe, he moved his hand to your jaw pulling you up to him.

“Want to cum with you.” Was the only thing he said before pushing up your shirt, helping you take it off. Biting his lip to concentrate on the clasp of your bra that for some reason he just couldn’t figure out. You grabbed his hands gently stopping him before unhooking it yourself throwing it across the room. His heated gaze fell to your chest as he wasted no time in touching you. Squeezing, sucking, nipping. Every time his tongue danced around your sensitive nipples he grew more confident at the soft breathy moans you let out.

He backed up onto the bed, pulling you with him before crawling over you catching your already swollen lips in another rough kiss. You couldn’t stop the whimper the fell from your lips when he ground down into your core. It put a cocky smile on his face, something you weren’t used too.

“Noya, please.”

“What do you want me to do, baby?” His voice was low, and his words were muffled as he kissed down your neck. It was becoming too much, you wanted him. Needed him.

“Fuck me! Pleas-“

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as he pushed your legs open. Swiping the tip up and down your folds a few times before slowly pushing in. Your mouth fell open at the sudden fullness. He didn’t stop until he was bottomed out inside you. You looked up at him once started moving his hips, trying to paint the look on his face into your memory. His eyes blown out in lust as he fucked into you, the way he gritted his teeth trying to quiet the loud moans. It was the last clear image before the night completely blurred.

 The next morning you tried recalling the events that occurred, and it only came in slivers. Like an old movie with holes burnt into the film. The pieces that you could interpret left you with memories of giving yourself to Nishinoya, and him to you. Maybe it was a good thing you couldn’t remember clearly. The way your head ached would’ve only been amplified by the weight of what you did last night. You tried not to think it was a mistake, but it was hard not to. Everyone has a drunken hook up once in a while. You’ve had your share, so why would this one be so different?

It was only when Nishinoya shifted beside you were you pulled from your intruding thoughts. You felt your body tense as he slid his arm over your side and bury his face into your shoulder. He mumbled something incoherent. There was a small voice in your head hoping he was still asleep. But it was nothing compared to the way you felt your heart speed up at the simple action. You closed your eyes telling yourself it was to stop your head from hurting, but you really just wanted to stay in this moment as long as you can. The soft, quiet calm before the shit storm you felt was coming. But, he proved you wrong.

Whispering your name softly as if not to wake you. You found yourself unable to answer him. Waiting to see what would happen, what your reaction to this should be. No matter how badly you wanted to be happy that this happened, you would take whatever came. You didn’t expect him to hum softly and feel his soft lips against your bare shoulder as he gently kissed it. Tangling his legs with yours, you felt him gently rubbing your arm. You couldn’t handle it anymore. His sweetness was too much, and you needed to look at him. Shifting in his hold you turned to face him. A small smile pulled at his lips when you did.

“Morning, y/n.” His voice was a bit raspy, and you found your heart speeding up again at the sight of his tussled hair. The memory of tangling your hands in it flashing across your mind and you couldn’t help the blush. “You okay?”

“Mhm. You’re just really hot.” The words spilled from your lips before you could stop them, and you groaned a little. “Fuck, ignore that. I’m still asleep.”

Nishinoya “When did we fall asleep?” Your voice was quiet, trying to ignore the way his eyes were lighting up at your touch.

laughed at your plea and shook his head, which made you reach up to push the hair that fell in his eyes.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Was it we fucked for the sec-“

“Yuu!” Your hand covered his mouth, eyes wide at the way he could casually say it. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk about it. Just that you didn’t know where to even start. There were so many things you wanted to talk or ask him about now that you were sober. You just weren’t sure if you had the courage anymore. You dropped your hand and shifted your gaze from him, a little nervous.

“Something wrong? Oh no. You regret last night. I’m so sorry, I knew I should’ve waited to make a move when we were sober. I-“ His face pulled into a panicked stare and he started rambling before you cut him off again.

“No, Yuu. I don’t regret it at all. Not one bit.” You sighed looking back to him, trying to reassure his worry. “You were… really good. I just didn’t know how to talk about it.”

“Oh thank god. I was scared I fucked up.” He relaxed a bit, slipping his hand into yours. It warmed your heart how sweet he was being. “I don’t want to ruin this… whatever this is.”

“Do you remember what I said last night?” You asked meekly, hoping he did so you wouldn’t have to repeat it.

“Which part? You said a lot, most of it sounded like my name actually now that I think.” He laughed when you shoved his arm a little, glaring at him. “I know what you said. About liking me, and I feel the same way for you.”

“Then, what is this?” Your heart was pounding in your chest as you asked, and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. The next part you forced out, not wanting to hear the answer. Fearing it would be something that would hurt. “Is this just a one time thing?”

Nishinoya stared at your for a few seconds, completely silent. It felt like forever and the nervousness that pooled in your stomach started creeping up your body. The worst responses flashed through your head.

“No, I don’t want this to be a one time thing. Or anything casual either.” His voice was steady, and serious. You could tell he meant everything he said. “Do you want to go out with me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Nishi. I want to go out with you.”

“Fuck yeah! Does this mean I can take you out on a date? I’ve been wanting to for a really long time just never thought I could.” He rambled a little and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“A date sounds perfect. If its anywhere other than our dorms, we spend too much time in them.”

“Yes!! I’ve been wanting to for so long, I just never thought you liked me back!” His arm slid around your side again and your felt the urge to bury your face into his chest. He squeezed you tighter when you did. “Can I tell Tanaka? I feel like we owe this to him!”

“Sure. But don’t mention what we did?”

“I cant promise you that.”

 You two spent most of the morning and afternoon laying in your bed. There was something about him that made you let your guard down. You could talk to him for hours about random stuff and never get bored. It was a lot nicer in his arms too. You always imagined the way it would feel to be wrapped in his arms. Even when you thought you’d never tell him how you felt. It was nice to imagine though, but it was nothing compared to now.

His usual rough wildness on the court was replaced with a softness you didn’t know his arms had. They were always covered in scratches and bruises from practice. You found yourself tracing the dark marks on his biceps, admiring the contrast against his skin. He had a story for each one. Telling it to you as your finger ran over it, and you could picture each one. You’ve seen him on the court before, he was a fury to reckon with but you didn’t realize how aware he was.

The lazy cuddling only ended when both of your stomachs growled for the third time in thirty minutes. He reached over to your nightstand for his phone, asking if you wanted him to order food in. You were thankful for that, the headache from the lingering hangover still pulsated at the back of your neck.

When the food came, you put on a movie and the two of you ate in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence. You knew there were things you could talk about if you really wanted to, but you found no need to. There was something about just sitting with Nishinoya that made a sort of warm feeling hold in your chest. It was relaxing, and almost familiar.

 The next two weeks flew by. Your old routine with Nishinoya quickly turning into a new one. Instead of him asking you to study as an excuse to see you, he was already at your dorm when you got back from your last class. Each time you entered your dorm and found him sitting on your bed waiting for you made your heart soar.

What you felt for him before anything happened only amplified now. Lingering gazes turned into lustful ones, soft brushes became loving embraces. It was amazing. Everything you had dreamed of and more. It wasn’t until you came by one of his practices early to surprise him did the doubt slip into your thoughts.

You pushed open the gym door entering quietly, not wanting to interrupt anything. Your eyes scanned the gym looking for him and once you did, your excitement dropped a little. Him and Tanaka were standing next to their manager, the one Tanaka always went on and on about. It looked completely innocent, they were just talking. But you didn’t miss the way Nishinoya laughed or the bright look on his face as she said something.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you didn’t even have to. He looked so excited, the way his face was flushed as he swayed on his feet. It was a simple action, they were only talking so why did it have to feel like this?

He had told you about his crush on her before, but explained it was long gone. That it had been nothing but a simple unrequited crush. But it stung seeing him so happy talking to her. Confliction twisted in your stomach. You didn’t want to be the type of girlfriend to get jealous over other girls, but this somehow felt different.

You went up to the first person next to you and quietly asked them to give the bento box in your hands to Nishinoya. It was their captain. You were a little familiar with him from watching all of their games, you just never talked to him before.

“Don’t tell him I came in. Just if you could say I dropped it off?” Your voice was unsteady and you could feel your hands shaking a little.

“Sure thing. Are you, y/n?” You could only nod as your eyes flicked back to Nishinoya still standing by their manager. “So you’re Noya’s girlfriend! I was wondering when we were going to meet you. I was beginning to think you didn’t exist, but he talks about you so much.”

“Yeah, I am. I didn’t realize he talked about me that much. I’m surprised you’re not sick of it.” You laughed nervously a little, trying not to look at them.

“No, he means no harm. He obviously really cares about you, I’m glad he has someone like you. From what I’ve heard, you seem like an amazing person.”

That hurt. You don’t know why it did, but it pulled at your chest heavily. You tried so badly to fight against the way seeing him over there picked at your brain but it didn’t work. Tanaka’s signature laugh echoed in the gym and your eyes moved to them again. Their manager was gone now, but you saw the way Nishinoya looked after her.

You could feel tears start welling in your eyes and you quickly excused yourself. Moving back toward the doors hoping to whatever gods were out there that Nishinoya didn’t see you leave. But, he did. Just as you slipped out of the door he saw you. You caught his gaze when you looked back one last time and it almost felt like the wind was knocked out of your chest.

Fighting everything inside you screaming to turn around and go to him, you ran the other way. You didn’t know what to even say if you were to go up to him.

“Y/n! Wait up!” Nishinoya yelled behind you and you gritted your teeth. Of course, he’d follow you, that’s just who he was. You slowed your pace knowing he’d catch up any moment. Facing away from him you felt his arms slip around your waist as he hugged you from behind. “Hey, sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting you here.”

You couldn’t say anything. It was like your voice was stuck in your throat even though you desperately wanted to speak. Eyes fixed on something in the distance you tried to wipe the upset expression from your face. Wanting nothing more than to turn and bury your face into him, you felt the frustration building in you.

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

The concern in his voice hurt. More than anything else so far. You were being stupid, there was no reason to worry. You knew that so why did you feel so shitty? When you didn’t respond he moved around to face you. The panic was evident on his face when he saw how upset you were.

“Baby, what happened?” His voice was soft, welcoming. You flicked your gaze to his eyes and felt a pang of guilt in your when you saw the worry flooding them. You couldn’t help but look away again.

“Nothing. I just forgot something.” Your voice was quiet, much quieter than you thought it’d be. It wasn’t very convincing, and you knew it.

“You don’t have to lie to me. Did something happen today? Is that why you came to practice?” You had to clench your jaw at his caring words. His hands cupped your face gently and you felt your lip quiver at the touch. Without meaning to, you leaned into his touch. Closing your eyes which made a tear slip from your welling eyes. “Baby, talk to me.”

You shook your head trying to shake his worry. “It’s stupid.”

You knew that wouldn’t work, but you tried. The feeling in your chest, frustration over yourself and the lingering hurt from seeing him in there became too much and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Pushing his hands from your face and burying yourself into his arms. The warmth of them didn’t do much to soothe you this time. It almost had the opposite effect. When he hugged you tightly a sob was ripped from your throat.

Crying was something you never wanted to do in front of him. You knew it would just make him worry, and yet here you were wrapped in his arms as your tears stained his shirt. Guilt tore at you again at that thought. He was supposed to be at practice. This was completely your fault. You shouldn’t have even come here to begin with.

Maybe this was meant to happen. The universes way of showing you that you weren’t meant to be together. You could go back to your old ways, watching silently from the stands while she was down there with him. That thought tore through you hard.

Kiyoko was mesmerizing, there was a softness in everything she did. She was so much better than you in every way. What were you even compared to her? You kept replaying the way he looked at her in your head. He looked so happy. Did he ever look that happy with you? You began questioning everything your thought you had known about your relationship.

“Y/n!” Nishinoya’s voice ripped through your intrusive thoughts and you couldn’t help but gasp. You hadn’t even noticed when you knelt on the ground, completely focused inside your own head.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Yuu. Go back to practice. I know I’m being annoying. I-I’ll go to my dorm, its okay.”

“What? No way, I’m not letting you leave.” He shook his head brows furrowing at your statements and apologies. “Let me help you…”

The way his eyes softened as you looked into them made a fresh wave of tears slip down your face. You found yourself spilling everything you were holding in with them. All your worries and fears, the reason you were crying. The way you felt you weren’t good enough for him.

“I saw you and your manager; I can’t help but think I’m not enough for you.” He didn’t say anything to interrupt your tear-filled rambling. “ You’re so amazing, and kind. You’re the best person I’ve ever met and I just…. Maybe you should be with Kiyoko. She’s so much better than me-“

“Stop.” He suddenly spoke out, “Stop it right now. You don’t get to say that about yourself.”

“But I-“

“No! I can’t believe you would even think like that.” His voice was raised a little causing you to snap your attention to his face. He looked so angry. The concern from before gone from his features. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just, I don’t think I make you as happy as you should be.”

“Stop apologizing, y/n. This is not your fault its mine.” That made you a little confused despite how upset you still were. This wasn’t his fault; he didn’t do anything.

“It’s not your faul-“

“It is though! I know I’m not that good at showing how I feel. That’s why I waited so long to do anything.” He shook his head as he talked, and you couldn’t pick apart the look in his eyes. “Should I have not asked you out? Would this have been better as a one-time thing?”

“What? No, Yuu. Don’t say that.” You felt your voice shake when you responded, it was so quiet you weren’t even sure if he heard you.

“I knew I’d hurt you. Do something to fuck this up. I couldn’t even keep this one perfect thing, could I? God I’m so stupid! This would’ve been so much easier if I wasn’t in love with you. Maybe we shouldn’t even have started dating, I’ve only been an ass to you.” His voice got louder as he berated himself. You knew he had a bit of a temper, but you never thought it would be toward himself.

“Yuu, stop.” He didn’t hear you as he continued beating himself up, “Yuu!”

You shoved his chest lightly to get his attention, panic coursing through your body. His eyes flashed to yours and the tears that spilled from them matched your stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry.. Fuck, I’m so sorry!” He scrambles toward you, diving into your embrace. You’ve never seen him angry like that and it scared you. He could tell, the look on your face when you pushed him made his heart drop. He pulled you to him again, this time he was crying. You felt the tears against your neck as he shoved his face into your shoulder. “Baby, I didn’t mean any of that. I promise. Please, please forget it. I’m not leaving you. Just don’t- don’t leave me.”

Hearing his desperate cries into you made your heart break, forgetting everything that happened before. You sat and held him like he did to you. Giving him a place to let all his fears out in the safety of your embrace.

“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.” You voice was basically a whisper as you ran your fingers down his hair, trying not to let the tears spill from your eyes again at they sadness in his voice and the way he clutched onto the back of your shirt.

“I’ve never loved someone before. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He spoke after a moment, he felt more relaxed in your arms and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Until you registered what he said for the second time.

“You love me?”

“Fuck. Did I say that?” He pulled away to look at you, eyes wide. All you could do was nod at his question, still processing it. “Shit, y/n. I, uh, ignore that.”

You shook your head rapidly, opening your mouth to say something. Anything. When nothing came out you leaned forward pressing your lips to his. His eyes flew open for a second but then he melted into your lips as his hands moved to bury themselves in your hair.

“I love you too.” You whispered into his lips, but he didn’t hear you. Too focused on your lips against his. You pulled back breaking the kiss to say it again, if you didn’t say it now you knew you’d regret it. He needed to hear how much he meant to you. “Yuu, I’m in love with you. I think I was before anything happened.”

“Really?”

“Let me finish!” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his eager tone. “You’re so good to me, more than I think I deserve. Hearing you beat yourself up like that. I just…. Don’t ever, ever think I regret being with you for one second. The things you said…… Yuu, they’re not true. You need to know how much you deserve.”

“I’m sorry.” Was all he said. He knew he had a temper, and it usually was directed toward himself. Starting off as a simple thought and snowballing into full on degrading himself. You tilted his chin up making him look at you again, wanting to make him feel better. Pressing your lips to his again, this time less sweet. Deepening it by tugging on his shirt.

“If you don’t believe me… Let me show you just how much I love you, Nishi.” It took one look into your dark gaze for him to understand what you meant. His face flushed and you almost giggle at the sight. “I was heading back to my dorm, why don’t you come with me?”

“But, Daichi….” Nishinoya glanced back at the gym quickly before looking back to you.

“It’s okay, I can wait. Alone. In my dorm. Who knows what I’d do while you’re at practice…..”

“No fucking way, I’m coming with you” That was the first practice he missed on purpose.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Chapstick- Pansy Parkinson x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: the lesbians have risen

  Request: pansy x reader where they are friends & reader loves chapsticks very much because chapped lips also the taste and the smell are cute ?? and then she has different variants of it. Pans could smell it sometimes when she purposely gets closer, got curious one time and asked for it and she casually gave it. One time Pans asked what flavour was the one on her lips right now because it's different from the usual??? and reader was like see for yourself and then they ki- IM SO GAY FOR PANSY PARKINSON - 💐

  House: Slytherin

  Possible Triggers / Warnings: lesbian power couple baby, cursing, y/n being a bottom, making out. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   since day one you had been best friends with Pansy Parkinson. Even in your small little friend group that consisted of Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott, you just gravitated towards Pansy more. Maybe it was because you were both girls or the fact that you had met her first.

   throughout your school years you and Pansy were like a power duo. Some were scared, some wanted your title, and the rest despised you both. Even with all the popularity you weren’t mean or cude to people who didn’t deserve it. Kill them with kindness is what you’d always say.

   around your 6th year is when you enveloped your slight chapstick addiction. You had noticed your lips become more flaking and chapped as you grew up so over the summer when you visited america you bought a pack with a variety of different flavors. 

   Pansy made fun of you at first because of how quickly you had started to buy more and more until you had a collection. After all the teasing you two developed a sort of game you could say. Anytime Pansy could smell the chapstick on you she would try and guess what scent it was.

   at first it was cute and friendly, but out of nowhere she would grab your face and bring it close to hers so she could smell the chapstick. It would be so sudden and make your stomach twist in a way you had never felt before, especially when she would send you a wink after she backed away. 

   after a lot of thinking and ‘therapy’ sessions with Theo you had come to the conclusion that you had fell for your best friend. It was very cheesy, but it was true. Pansy Parkinson had stolen your heart and you terrified at the power she held over you.

    ☼-☪-☼

   7th year

   you were practically running towards the field, hoping the outfit you chose would keep you warm enough in the nippy weather. You did not want to be late to Draco and Blaises quidditch match against Gryffindor. Of course you cheered on your friends, who wouldn’t?

   you began to climb up the stairs to make your way into the stands. Once you make it to the top you gaze through the crowd and spot the familiar black haired female leaning back to look up at the sky. She looked very focused on something in the sky.

   Pansy was wearing a large black sweater with some kind of white t-shirt sticking out from the bottom with matching black pants and shoes. She looked in casual clothes- in anything really. You make your way through the crowd, pushing past a couple people while mumbling ‘excuse me’ and such.

   you take a seat next to Pansy who looks back down to face you “Thought you weren’t gonna show. You look nice by the way” she comments and you shake your head. You were wearing a black crop with matching pants and a oversized navy blue hoodie. 

   your stomach twist like many times before. “Thanks” you reply before suddenly realizing you were missing a friend “Where’s Theo?” you ask. Pansy lifts up her hand to point in front of her. You follow her finger until you spot the back of Theos head “He wanted to be closer to watch Blaise”

   you nod once before you heard Lee Jordan begin the announcements.

    ☼-☪-☼

   while watching a breeze blew past you and towards Pansy. The Slytherin girls nose scrunched up as she smelled something, something fruity? (because your gay duh) She turns to look at you, brown eyes narrowed. You felt her eyes on you and face her “What?-” 

   Pansy grabs your face with both of her hands. You could feel the cold metal of the rings she wore against your cheek. Pansy leans in close, her nose centimeters from your mouth. You could hear her sniff as your face began to feel hot. 

   she was so close. The smell of hrt minty breath from her gum she had been chewing made everything in your body flare up. It was only a second, but felt like hours before she pulled away “Your wearing strawberry” Pansy had a cocky smirk on her face as she spoke, her hands slowly falling from your face

   you blink mindlessly as you reach into the packet of your jacket. You pull out the tube of strawberry chapstick. Pansy’s smirk only grows wider “Knew it, what's my prize?” she asked. Your face twist a bit. A prize? She had never asked for one before.

   “What do you want?”

   “A Kiss”

   your mouth opens a bit to speak, but you choke on your words instead. Pansy lets out a chuckle and turns to face forward again “I’m only kidding”

    ☼-☪-☼

   you were walking alongside Pansy, Theo, Draco and Blaise. You were all leaving the quidditch field and head back to the common room. Slytherin had won and the team was going out for butterbeer at the three broomsticks. Draco and Blaise had opted out saying they wanted to celebrate with close friends.

   just you guys, how sweet.

   “So- did Y/n and Pans. I flew past you guys and for a brief second and i swore i saw you guys making out” Draco spoke making Blaise and Theo laugh. “You guys were what now? I knew you were close, but no that close damn” Draco adds were made the boys laugh even harder.

   you roll your eyes playfully and walk behind behind Draco. He doesn’t see you as you wack the back of his head “Ow!” he exclaimed. Pansy chuckles “We were not making out by the way. I was smelling her chapstick” she explains. The boys nod and silence consumes you all after that.

   that is until Theo speaks up “That’s still gay”

    ☼-☪-☼

   you all spent the night together, talking, goofing around, and drinking firewhiskey. It was a fun idea at the time, but you all got wasted more than you’d like to admit. Your E/c eyes open slowly and your met with skin? You lift your head up, you were laying on top of Pansy.

   Y/n.exe has stopped working

   she was wearing her black flannel pants as well as her matching sports bra. Your heart might have stopped right then and there. You look down at what you were wearing and noticed you only had your undergarments and Pansy’s sweater that she had worn at the game. 

   before having time to freak the hell out you heard the black haired girl mumble under you “morning” she mumbles, her eyes opening slowly. You give her a half smile before sitting up “Um- how did- how did i end up here?” you ask. Pansy uses her elbows to prop herself up.

   she pushes her bangs from her face. They had began to grow over her eyes, but refused to cut them after you said you liked them longer. “You got a bit tipsy so i brought you here to rest. As well as those three” she says and points to the floor. You raise a brow and crawl to the edge of the bed.

   on the floor was Blaise and Theo cuddling on the ground. Cute. Draco was laying next to Blaise curled up in a ball with a blanket over him. Also cute. “Damn, i guess you played mom for a bit huh?” you joke, sitting back down on the bed. 

   Pansy shrugs her shoulders “You could say that. Your hug things in your sleep, did you know that?”

   “I’m sorry what?”

    ☼-☪-☼

   later in the day you were in your own dorm room studying for an exam in charms you had the next day. While writing down a few notes you heard your door open. You place the quill down and turn in your chair to see Pansy at the door. 

   she had on a black t-shirt with a sheer long sleeve one underneath, black pants with a white dragon that stopped above her ankles and black socks with checkered vans. Pansy had a plate of food in each hand “Theo told me you hadn’t eaten lunch yet so i brought you some.”

   “You look cute by the way” she adds with a wink

   you smile lightly and pat the chair next to yours “I’m guessing you came to eat with me as well?” you ask and she nods, taking a seat. She places the plate of food in front of you and places her down as well. Pansy began to move your textbooks around as you reached into the pocket off your black jeans.

   you pulled out your new chapstick ‘fruit punch’ and took off the cap. You smear it on your bottom lip before popping the cap back on and into your pocket while rubbing both your lips together to apply it evenly. Pansy smells something fruity again and smiles lightly.

   except for this smelt different. Way different. Nothing you had worn before.

   Pansy looks at you as you grab a fork with a amused smirk “New chapstick?” she asked. You noticed her playful tone. Turning in your sea you face Pansy “Maybe, maybe not” you say vaguely, shrugging your shoulders. Pansy rolls her eyes and faces you too.

   like last time she reaches up and grabs your face, pulling it close to hers. You hear her sniff just like before, but this time her eyebrows furrow “What the fuck is that?” she asks, making you laugh quietly “Can’t figure it out?” you tease. Her brown eyes narrow into a glare “Shut up” she hisses.

   what a baby

   Pansy stays like that for a couple seconds before exhaling loudly “What the hell is it” she grumbles. A risky idea popped into your mind in an instant. It was dumb, but you were so tired of just being friends with her. You were willing to risk it all in one question.

   “See for yourself then”

   you couldn’t really remember much between the the couple seconds of silence. All you remember is Pansy’s lips on your feverishly. She leaned into kiss you deeper, making you almost fall out the chair. She was not taking it slow in the slightest.

   As Pansy’s mouth moves against yours she leans down and uses her hands to scoop up your thighs. She lifts you up and you wrap your arms around her waist tightly, making Pansy let out a muffled noise. You felt a hard surface hit your back and assumed Pansy had leant you against the wall.

   Pansy ran her tongue against your bottom lip. You open your mouth slightly for her and Pansy’s tongue slipped into your mouth instantly. You felt a cold piece of metal on your tongue that connected to hers. It took you a second to process what it was.

   she had a tongue piercing

   “You have a tongue piercing?” you ask between hot kisses. You feel her smirk against your lips as one hand traces circles on your exposed stomach. She pulls away for a moment “Yeah. Problem?” she questions, panting slightly. You shake your head quickly “Nope- it’s just really hot”

    ☼-☪-☼

   an hour later

   “You owe me ten galleons” Draco spoke.

   Blaise groans and reaches into his pocket to dig out the money and place it in his hands “Yeah, yeah whatever” he grumbles.

   Theo smiles happily “I’m so happy for them!”

   Draco nods slowly “I’m pretty sure the whole house heard them though”

    ☼-☪-☼

   Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesss 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody- lesbian things lesbian things. Anyways request are open, peace.