#ANYWAYS. circling back. i think the good girl thing would be something fish knows that rat doesnt. and idk if theyd tell him or not

[termagax]

re: "good girl" i think they say it once randomly as a joke and its just one of those things that gets him wayyy more than they expected it would. so now its their secret weapon and they use it very sparingly and every single time he gets super embarrassed about it but it works ill tell you what.

[deluluass]

all yours; all mine

71 and 58 with Atsumu pleaseeese. I just love this man and I would appreciate it if you wrote something with him. Youre so talented!💕 — anon

sidenote: anon, i hope u know that u have a very special place in my heart for being the first ask ive ever received. i hope u are well & having a gr8 day ;U;

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; daddy kink; mild angst; implied post-breakup depression; toxic relationship/s

Breakups are a messy business. A lot of crying, begging, screaming (if it's that type of a breakup). Whatever it is, breakups generally inspire intense— so-intense-it-could-get-you-kicked-out-if-you're-in-a-public-place, high-strung, and the most unpleasant kind of emotions. 

It’s understandable, considering you’re losing the person you love. 

But he doesn't even look upset.

"Aah," Atsumu sing-songed, twirling the plastic stirrer between his fingers. "Ya wanna call it off?"

The heat from the mug bit your skin as you gripped it. 

"What?" you choked, shaking your head. "I didn't say that, Atsumu. I only-"

He scoffed. "Fuckin'- ya just did."

You finally looked up at him, porcelain clinking as you placed your drink back on the saucer. Ball cap on,  muscles filling up and straining his hoodie and jeans; even in an outfit that almost concealed him he never fails to take your breath away. 

Only, it's for a different reason this time.

"I said that I-" you cleared your throat. "I want- I want you to-"

"I get it, I get it." Atsumu sighed, waving his hand nonchalantly. "Let's break up, then."

He was already standing up and he didn't even deign to meet your eyes. You didn't expect much when you'd travelled all the way to Tokyo just to have a talk with him. After all, the last conversation you had was over the phone. (And that, too, did not go well). 

Though, is it too much to expect he'd at least listen to what you have to say?

"Tsumu-kun! Wait!" 

Some customers were already staring, urging you to hide, hop on the next train, and run back home; away from the cold scrutiny of strangers. 

But not now. Not when what you have with him is hanging on a balance.

"Please, sit down and- and let's talk," you huffed, voice and hand trembling as you held onto his.

Breakups are a messy business, you heard.

A lot of crying. A lot of begging. A lot of screaming. Whichever kind it is, don't breakups usually inspire only the most intense emotions?

But he doesn't even look upset, doesn't even look like he feels anything other than a passing irritation, as if you were a fly buzzing in his ear, when he told you, "I know this is ya first rodeo, but yer gonna find someone new eventually, hm?"

It's been a long time coming, Atsumu thinks. He'd known for quite a while now that his relationship with you would end, actually, ever since you'd wanted to include "feelings" and "trust" and "opening up" into the mix. 

"Why?" he'd laughed at your face once. "What? Ya ain't happy? That it? We got somethin' good goin' on don't we?"

He didn't get it, at first. You'd always been your cheerful, bubbly self; never failing to be that one sunny spot when his day gets too pesky and such a pain in the ass. You were happy.

Until you weren't. 

"You don't.. tell me things," you muttered, fiddling with your hands on the kitchen table. "Which is fine! I'm not- go at your pace, but- but know that I'd listen to you. Always. I'm here, 'Tsumu."

And it wasn't as if he didn't try. It's just that Atsumu realized, a few months later, that he wasn't any good at it. 

Every time he'd lay it all out in front of you⁠— every tiny and pathetic and gritty part of him, you would eventually take him in your arms. So much smaller, weaker than his and yet Atsumu did not mind if it could be his entire world. 

Then, a thought would creep in, like a thief that'd stab him in his sleep. In the safety of those tender arms, with those guileless eyes peering at him, Atsumu would think that he'd rather stay there forever, cling onto you until he bites the dust.  

It disgusted him. 

Atsumu couldn't stand it. Because if he could be anything in this short life, he'd choose to be perfect. And that- that wasn't it. 

So he avoided it when the occasion arose. Diverting the subject to mundane stuff was easy, at first. The weather, the new show you're binging, your slacker of a boss, what happened back in the game. When that didn't work⁠— well, there were other ways. 

(His favorite was sticking his tongue in your wet cunt, to prod at the soft walls with the tip, and to lap and suck at the clit until you're begging for the stretch of his fat cock.)

The break up was understandable. When you'd greeted him in the café as if you'd spent the entire time you were apart crying, Atsumu knew it was over. 

You just repeated what you'd always said. It's okay to be vulnerable. If he needs some time to work out the right words then you'd always wait because I love you, 'Tsumu. 

(But there was that feeling again. Like he could die on the spot if you would so much as leave his sight.)

(Ending it was the only way out. When poison seeps itself into the bloodstream, you're left with no choice but to cut off a part of you.)

Unlike others, he can say that it was a clean parting. You wanted something and he was bad at it. And because he hated fucking up, Atsumu decided to leave. Easy. 

Really, the only people who didn't understand were his teammates.

"That's strange," Hinata spat, rice bursting to his chin when he suddenly faced Atsumu. "I don't think I've seen her for weeks now."

He could hear barely suppressed groans  behind him, no doubt from Bokuto and the others, before their spiker blurted out a confused, "What?"

Because, of course, Hinata could only mean one "her.” (There had only ever been one that Atsumu Miya allowed inside the team's gymnasium; inside his circle of friends; inside his life.)

Apparently, except for Hinata Shoyo, everyone had caught on that the both of you had thrown in the towel, so to speak. (And here they thought the guy's finally in it for real.)

"Nah, it's fine," Atsumu smirked, addressing it to everyone gathered around Samu's onigiri stand.  

"We broke up." 

He clicked his tongue. "It's not like there ain't no other fish in the sea."

The remark, casually said in between sips of cold coffee, was met with a gaping silence. 

That turned out to be right, like everything else that he'd predicted. 

A hole is a hole is a hole is a hole. No disrespect meant to you. But before you there had been many others who'd helped warm his bed. It just so happened that you got to stay for far longer. 

(Because waking up next to you meant waking up to that dreamy look, as if whoever's in charge up there has finally given you everything you've ever wanted.)

(And when he greets you with a hoarse good morning you say it back with eyes that tell him he's worth it, simply for being there.)

Anyway, going back to that old routine hadn't been difficult. 

(Except when he finally does it with someone new, for some reason he keeps searching for a different touch, expecting that endearing combination of inexperience and enthusiasm.)

(And when they cum he can't help but put a hand on their mouth, around their throat, because he's hearing the wrong voice, seeing the wrong face.) 

It's obvious, looking at him. Everyone can see that life's going pretty well for Atsumu. He can only hope that the same goes for you.

"You're miserable."

Peeling your attention away from the mother braiding her young daughter's hair, you hurriedly brought it back to the two women sitting in front of you.

"See?" Aya swung her hand in your direction. "Not even listening."

"No, no," you giggled sheepishly. Kaori was already pursing her lips.

"No, seriously. I am."

You sat upright, setting the chopsticks on your bento box. 

"Then what was it she said?" Kaori pressed. She folded her arms and you knew you were in trouble. 

"Uh..huh." You nodded. "Right. So. Um...."

"You didn't catch it," said Kaori.

"I didn't catch it," you winced.

Both girls sighed. 

The first three buttons of their blouses were open, the heat of the afternoon getting to them. And as they leaned back against the wooden bench, you had a feeling that they were about to give you the Conversation that's been waiting to happen for two long months.

That's why you'd decided to start it before they could. Just so it won't linger anymore painfully so.

“I know what you're going to say."

They only raised their brows, a mere "okay, go on" than an actual expression of surprise. 

"I've been sad. I haven't been..fine. That is true," you inhaled, preparing yourself for the agonizing part. Then, you released your breath.

"Ever since..'Tsu-" you gulped. "Ever since breaking up with Atsumu I haven't been feeling like myself but nowadays I'm getting back on my feet and I'm still working see so really there's no need to worry okay? Okay."

Aya grinned, but it didn't hold her usual devil-may-care humor to it. 

"You say that," she started, "but we’ll probably always be if you keep at that- at that⁠—"

"You're rarely in the moment," Kaori supplied, to which Aya replied with a harsh thank you. "You're distracted. And we know you're trying your best to be okay on your own. We've given you space, but remember that you have us."

Something was lodged in your chest and you found it hard to breathe. You'd missed them. You hadn't realized it, but you missed your friends. 

So much.

"Thank you," you whispered, forcing back  tears. "I- I wouldn't know what to do if it not for you two-"

"Hold it." Aya raised a palm. "Before you get corny again. Can I just say, I know he's your first dick-"

"Aya," Kaori murmured.

"And we all know it was good-"

"Aya," you hissed.

Your face burned as you searched from left to right, making sure no innocent being heard her.

"But can I just say," she slapped a palm on the surface of the table. "I don't care what you or the TV or his fans say about him! But the man's a walking red flag since day one!"

Kaori rolled her eyes. And despite yourself you couldn't keep a chuckle from bubbling. 

"Here we go again."

Aya almost rose from her seat. "When he sent that poor dude from accounting to the ER for just, I don't know, breathing your way, I knew something was up!"

You felt your smile die. 

That had been the first time it happened. You'd asked him what's wrong, after you'd rushed to the hospital, and all he gave you was silence. A whole day of it. He hadn't spoken a word about it, only that he'd warned you not to talk to that bastard again, or else.

(You'd learned, much, much later, that he doesn't do well with people that annoy him. That's what he said. You wanted to know more, but he suddenly decided that he had to make it up to you between the sheets.)

Kaori touched your hand. "Talk to us," she whispered.

You hummed as you shook your head. "I just remembered him," you said, only half of the truth.

If they knew it, they didn't let on. But Aya did say, "Tell you what. Company outing's upon us. So you know what that means?"

"Oh, I don't know," you mumbled apologetically. "I might sit this one out."

"No," Kaori gritted. 

Aya held your face with both hands as she  stared you down.

"You will buy yourself a new swimsuit. You will enjoy that cheap beach resort." 

The heaviness was lifting, bit by bit, as you felt your stomach ache with laughter. And with each silly word uttered by your friends, you could almost see the gray clouds overhead disappearing. Even for a little while.

"And you, you beautiful person you," Aya beamed. "Will finally, finally get laid."

Having best friends who are dead set on helping you get over an ex is a fearsome thing to behold, indeed. 

You couldn't even get a word in edgewise as they took you in a whirlwind of spas, salons, mani-pedis, and shopping bags. 

"Calm down. You rarely spend for yourself," Kaori told you when she'd caught you peeking forlornly at the frightening bill you'd amassed. 

But, try as you might to miss owning a fat wallet, you couldn't deny that you have no regrets wasting your money away. Not even for a single cent. Because you did feel amazing.

And when the day arrived, you couldn't help at the giddiness of having compliment after compliment thrown your way. 

"Is that really you?" said a co-worker when you'd boarded the bus. "You're glowing!"

During the games, as well, you'd often hear "Love the new look!" and "Have I ever told you before that you're so pretty? Because you are." And you'd preen with a soft-spoken thank you, having been taught by Kaori that denying a compliment makes one look stupid.  

It was so silly, honestly. Though not the part where, after a lovely comment, you'd be emboldened to strike an actual conversation. Learning that a coworker has a new baby now, or that so and so has recently moved up the corporate ladder; learning that, during your period of grief and self-pity (and even during the blissful time you’d spent with Atsumu), there were so many things you hadn't noticed.

You basked in it: the shower of pleasantries and anecdotes that had you feeling soft and fuzzy inside. The same way you lazed on the sandbar, clutching tiny conch shells in your hand, as you watched the sun tinge the sparkling waves with warm light.   

"Hey."

You jolted, turning towards the person who'd called your name. It was him. "Poor dude from accounting" as Aya dubbed him.

"Sano-san," you gasped, reaching for the towel beside you to cover up. "How- how are you?" 

Of all the people in your office, he was the last one you wanted to see. Solely for the reason that things have been awkward between you ever since that incident. A working relationship characterized by the literal turning of the other cheek whenever you two bumped into each other.

"Oh, pardon me," he scratched the back of his head. "Do you..want me to go?"

Yes. 

"No..!" you blurted out. "I think-"

The sun was almost setting. You wrapped the towel around you as you took in the balmy sea breeze. 

"I think I'm done hiding," you whispered, meeting his gaze for the first time in a long while, head on and baring the tiniest hint of shame, like how you did with your friends and other coworkers.

He didn't say anything, allowing you to continue. "I- It's nice. Talking to people again," you giggled. "Look, Sano-san. About before, I'm really sor-"

"Actually," he smiled. "That's why I'm here. Well, my partner pushed me but-"

You grinned at the blush that rose to his cheeks. 

"But I wanted to tell you: No hard feelings."

Sano-san extended a hand. You stared at it for a few seconds. His hand, then his face. Back to his hand, then his face again. And when you'd finally accepted it, it felt like witnessing the cage that’s imprisoned you for centuries finally open.

"By the way," he added, walking back towards an obviously amused fianceé. "It's a good look on you, being happy."

Atsumu entertained the possibility that maybe— just maybe, not everything was  fine the night the Jackals went home after an overseas tournament.

As soon as the plane landed on Japanese soil, the hunger he felt throughout the journey morphed into some kind of  anticipation, palpable through the thrill that electrified him into wakefulness. He might have left in a hurry, only half of his mind present when the Coach ordered for a short meeting. 

His foot tapped endlessly on the way⁠— while in the car; during the tedious elevator ride⁠— and when he'd finally entered his pad, slamming the door open with much eagerness than usual, Atsumu felt his heart plummet down his stomach when he was welcomed by a dark and empty hallway. 

You're not here. Not anymore.

Hasn't it been almost half a year now? Why did he expect you, face brightened by a grin that went from ear to ear, to materialize in front of him, with the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen? As if a magician with a hat trick.   

("Welcome back!" he was aching to hear.)

(You always insisted on eating with him when he got home; sometimes opting to just stay by his side⁠— munching on a midnight snack while you babbled on, if he arrived later than usual and you'd already had dinner.)

("It's lonely having a meal on your own," you explained. "Don't you think food tastes better if you have someone with you?")

Perhaps it was the jet lag. Or, it could be that the abrupt change in time zones was starting to mess with his head. Either way, Atsumu was sure that sleep would eventually cure him of the momentary delirium. 

But then he woke up the next day feeling like someone had pissed in his morning drink. The day after that, too. Even the next had been the same, persisting onto the following weeks. 

Until one game, after a winning streak that had the crowd chanting their names and with blood still roaring in his veins, he condescended to survey the numerous people occupying the bleachers. 

And when he couldn't find one⁠— one person that had always stood out to him despite being constantly drowned in an ocean of spectators— it was only then that Atsumu Miya decided that enough was enough. 

You hadn't really agreed with Aya when she told you that you'd be getting "laid" during this short vacation. 

Reason number one: it's a company outing. And you're sure you'd be breaking some protocols by fooling around with any of your coworkers. Reason Two: as you'd sagely imparted to a miffed Aya, "I don't think it's nice to cure a broken heart with sex; strings attached or no."

That being said, the lingerie she'd chosen for you did flatter your figure. It didn't matter that "no one would see it," as Aya grumbled. It was enough for you that you yourself saw it, you thought as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. 

The way it was tailored made it seem like it was made just for your body. The details of lace also made it look so pretty that you felt kind of sad that you'd have to cover it up with a summer dress soon. 

Nevertheless, you allowed yourself to strike a few poses in front of the mirror; feeling like a teenager on their first date as you admired how you looked in it. 

You smiled to yourself, humming a tune, before you opened your makeup kit and prepared the necessities you'd be bringing for the bonfire dinner. 

"Wipes: check," you murmured, rummaging through your bag. "Hygiene stuff. Where are you hygiene stuff, hygiene stu⁠—"

You froze.

Something rustled. Outside. As if something had moved. 

Putting a robe back on, your heart thundered against your chest as you stepped out of the bathroom and into the dimly lit sleeping area, illuminated only by a small reading lamp.

"Be careful there, girlie," the old caretaker warned as she guided you to this room. "Lots of mean spirits lurking about."

You didn't believe in ghosts. For some reason, however, your coworkers did. So you'd taken it to yourself to move here after a room assignment mishap, leaving Aya and Kaori behind. 

It didn't seem like the cursed chamber that she purported to be. Sure, it was isolated at the furthest wing of the beach house, away from the other rooms and separated by a too dark hallway. But that had been the creepiest thing about it. Besides, you heard from logistics that renting the house didn't cost much, despite its size, so maybe it's just that they lacked the resources to renovate. 

The floorboards creaked beneath you. "Aya? Aya, I know it's you," you called out as you squinted, catching a faint silhouette reclined at the corner of the bed. 

It was too large to be Aya, but you chalked that up to the shadows playing with your eyes. You puffed out a chortle, resting a hand on your hips when she finally stood.   

"Very funny, Aya," you snorted when she sauntered towards you. "Just you wait until Kaori hears about.…" you trailed off.

"......this."

You drew in a breath as she moved closer, revealing a build that was much taller, towering almost in the small room, shoulders that are way broader than the ones your friend has, and a face that clearly wasn't Aya's.

"Evenin'," Atsumu yawned. 

Your legs refused to listen to you.

"Been a minute, hadn't it, darlin'?"

You don't know why he's here. 

And even if you wanted to ask, you find that no sound could escape from your mouth when you tried to open it.

You do know this, as he gave you a lopsided grin that used to have you eating at the palm of his hand, along with a lazy gaze that was belied by a bird-like focus:

That although he told you that all he wants is a little chat, you knew that he didn't come here just for that.

You ran.

Atsumu had been the worst boyfriend.

He's aware of it now, realized it fully when he knocked on Samu's door, shit-faced, and it only took a single look and a consoling arm from his brother to break Atsumu into tears and snot, as well as Samu's voice telling him, "Yer a big baby. Ya need her, dontcha?"

That's why he followed you here, figuring that you'd love a thoughtful surprise. Because you always have. He didn't expect you'd take to it kindly, of course, not right away. But he also didn't expect that you would be doing the surprising.

You were talking to that man when he arrived. 

Didn't he tell you not to?

His intentions still haven't changed. He's here to bring you back, but before anything else Atsumu's sure it's only normal that you guys clear things up first. 

And if you're going to do that, he can't have you running away now, can't he?

Grabbing you by the waist, Atsumu's palm tingled at the feel of your body, pulling you closer to him as he pinned you to the wall and stifled your shrieks with his hand.

"Everybody's gone, angel," he whispered, losing himself in your skin, though covered in silk; lips and fingers roaming every which way because finally, finally, fuckin' finally you're here and you're real.

"Just wanna talk." He stroked the curve of your ass, middle finger tracing the lining of the crack. "Ain't this what'ya always wanted? S'let's talk," he murmured against your collarbone.

You were already crying, shaky hands weakly grasping his back and tears wetting even his cheeks. Atsumu couldn't help but smile. You'd always been a crier. It's one of the many things he loves about you. Always so honest with your emotions.

"I missed ya," Atsumu groaned as he grinded his cock against your pussy, feeling it harden when he mouthed your tits.

There was something peeking out of your robe, he noticed as it became more rumpled. 

"D-don't," you breathed, your attempt to swat his hands away thwarted when he seized your wrist.

It was lace. The color pulling the eye to your body like a siren's song. And when he stripped the robe off of you, silk swishing down your elbows, Atsumu saw that it was a piece of lingerie. One that he hasn't seen before.

Because he didn't buy this one. It wasn't from him. You weren't the type to get one yourself. 

Until now.

"This for him?" he murmured, pressing a kiss against your pulse, beating like a drum against his lips. 

"Wh-who?" you whimpered.

"The ugly piece of shit. Saw you guys gettin' chummy earlier."

He was close, too close to you, back at the beach. You smiled at him, laughed and showed him what he isn't supposed to see. And when he touched you— when the fucker touched you, Atsumu wanted blood on his hands.

"Yer gonna fuck the guy whose face I busted?" 

You squeaked as he dug his blunt nails against your wrist. Atsumu licked the red impressions they made.

"And what- what about it?" Your voice was so brittle and small. God, he just wanted to hold you. "It's none of your business, who I spend my time with. And don't- don't tell me you're jealous because-"

He chuckled, the sound of it making you shrink back into the wall. "Jealous? Doll, ya wouldn't wanna know what I'm feelin right now. But, sure." Atsumu lightly nipped at the tips of your fingers. 

"'Course I'm jealous," he rasped. "You're mine."

Then, Atsumu looked at you. And what he saw in your eyes made him stumble that when you shoved him away, all he could do was stand and stare.

"I'm not your thing, Atsumu," you cried. A light-year difference from the girl who'd always stare at him so tenderly. "I never was and I never will be. I'm not yours."

You didn't run this time. You should've. 

Atsumu clenched his jaw. "Like hell ya ain't," he snarled.

People say that breakups are a messy business. Atsumu was so sure he wouldn't have to endure that, before he met you.  Now that he's had the experience, though, Atsumu can say with confidence that breakups are, in fact, a goddamn mess.

But you're over that now. It's time to turn over a new leaf and return to one another. And Atsumu's finding out, in the process, that making up can be astonishingly reminiscent of the breakup.

You started crying when you woke up, screaming for help as you tried to budge the rope that was tying your hands to your knees. You got louder when you found out that you were naked and not in the rickety confines of the beach house. 

"Welcome home, baby," he beamed, eying you from between your legs. 

The begging started when you realized how drenched your little pussy was, his tongue lapping and slathering the cum dripping from your twitching hole, against  your swollen folds; his calloused thumb massaging deep circles on your clit. 

And when he stuck another inside your puckered asshole, you writhed out of your binds and squealed, "T-tsumu-kun…!"

Fuck. 

"Babydoll," he growled. "Daddy's gotcha, daddy's gonna treat ya so fuckin' good."

He slapped your damp cunt with his long fingers, thrusting them inside to rub and feel at your walls, at the bump that never failed to make you screech. "Daddy's been mean hasn't he? Hm? Been a bad daddy to ya, baby?"

You could only gasp out wordlessly as he slurped the juices off your clit, not stopping until you were gushing, sloppy cum drizzling on the bedsheet, every muscle in spasms, incapable of even stretching out your legs although Atsumu knew you wanted to, you really wanted to so fuckin' bad, resorting to curling your toes instead. 

"E-enough, please, please, stop!"

How adorable, Atsumu thought. "My little slut," he cooed, tapping the tip of his hard cock on your pussy. "My good 'lil fucktoy."

He relished it, wanting to draw this on forever, so he slides it against your folds, pussy lips wrapping the meat of his cock, gyrating his hips back and forth, as if he were fucking you, and grabbing your tits to play with your nipples. 

"Atta girl," he laughed, licking his teeth when he finally sunk inside your tight cunt, pushing you so far down into the mattress until his chest was rubbing against your tits, your feet dangling against his shoulders.

"I don't-I don't want this, 'Tsumu," you sobbed. "Don't want this!"

Oh, of course you don't. Atsumu knows you don't. He'd fucked you against your will, after all. 

But you were taking him so well, darlin'. Your walls were hugging his cock so fuckin' nicely that he couldn't help but shove deeper inside you, craving for the way your pussy twitched rapidly around him. 

If you weren't bound, he's also sure that you'd be pushing his hips away. But that's not what's getting to him. Because as he pistoned his cock into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass, you instantly turned your face away.

Did you know that you were breaking his heart? Shattering it to pieces, when you close your eyes like doors, locking them to prevent him from ever reaching you again. 

So he gripped your chin. Forced you to meet his eyes as you wept and shook your head. 

"Am gonna be better, baby," he groaned.  "No more keeping things from ya. None of that bullshit, now."

Atsumu shivered as you came around him, convulsing under him and strained voice still begging him to stop. Because he wasn't. He would never stop. Not when it comes to you. 

"Am all yours, angel. All yours." He pounded your fucked out cunt, chasing his own high as he kneaded your tits. 

A tear fell from your eyelids. And when he kissed you, it felt like everything in his life shifted back in its rightful place. "You can have it all," he sighed, cupping your cheek.

"So give me all of you now," Atsumu pleaded. "Come back to me."

[loversandantiheroes]

Anything else you'd care to tell us about what gets Frankie off (aside from manhandling you and getting you off)? 👀👀

SO!  This was gonna be a nice little bullet point list, but then I got a little stuck on what would be on it and ended up distracted thinking about a couple specific points while I was hopped up on anxiety and too little sleep and too much caffeine so now it’s just a whole goddamn fic!  I have been staring at this for so long I have no idea if it’s good anymore so Happy Thanksgiving / I’m sorry, YMMV.

Risk and Reward

Excruciatingly shameless Frankie/F!Reader smut, 4.2k+ words (don’t ask me I don’t know what happened either), unbeta’d bc I’m impatient and the offered beta-er went to sleep, moderately edited bc I cannot linear a thought process.

Warnings: praise kink, risky sex, dirty talk, road hand (this is apparently what it’s called???), semi-public sex, semi-feral Frankie, car sex (truck sex?), unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I fictionalize), cream pie, implied come-eating (not actually shown).

Pedro Perma-taglist: @littleferal, @thirstworldproblemss, @corvueros

It’s nothing you mean to start.  It’s just a congratulatory kiss on the cheek and a soft mutter of “Good job, baby,” when Frankie thrashes Benny at a game of pool at the bar.  It’s been a rough week, and it’s good to see him enjoying himself and not propped up miserably on your couch while you try to work the knots out of his shoulders and neck for the fourth night in a row.  He preens a little at the attention, eyes downcast but with a crooked smile that stops just on the verge of smug.  You loop your arm around his waist to keep him close, hooking your fingers under his belt, and as Frankie raises his head for a proper kiss you catch a wicked little glimmer in his eye.

His mouth hits yours and there’s nothing telling in that, it’s perfectly sweet and nearly chaste, but his hand slips up to the back of your neck, squeezing gently like a thank you.  The wheels in your head are turning a little slow courtesy of the drink you’ve been nursing while you watched Frankie play, and it takes a long, long moment for the thought to finally land: he likes it when you praise him.  It was possibly the easiest of his inclinations to find - the first time you’d taken him to bed and locked your ankles around him and told him how fucking good he felt had dragged such a gut-wrenching sound out of him you’d thought he’d pulled a muscle until he’d begun to move faster. 

You hadn’t considered that maybe that might push his buttons outside of the bedroom, but now you’re thinking maybe it’s worth a try.

Frankie tugs you along back to the table to sit, scooting close enough that your chairs knock into each other whenever one of you shifts, but it’s enough for you to lean into the crook of his arm comfortably.  You drift through the conversation, not feeling any pressing need to be included, just pleased to be close enough to feel the way laughter buzzes through Frankie’s chest.

“What about you, Fish?  How’s the mechanic gig working out?”

“Eh, it’s fine,” he says.  “It’s work.”

You nudge him with your elbow.  “Understatement of the century, baby.”

Frankie inclines his head in reluctant agreement.  “We’re shorthanded right now, I’ve been picking up extra shifts.  But the boss isn’t a complete prick, and it’s good money, so…”  He trails off, shrugging as if that’s the only explanation needed.

He’s modest to a fault, god bless him, and you sigh with exasperated affection as you knock your head against his shoulder.  “Well I’m proud of you, baby.  You’ve been working your ass off.”

Santi points a finger over his beer.  “Ooh, careful, man, you ain’t got much of that to spare.”

Frankie mutters a short stream of Spanish over the top of your head - the only word you manage to catch in your limited vocabulary being pendejo - and the other man grins.

“Language, Francisco,” Santi says, one hand to his chest as though scandalized.  “There are ladies present.”

You laugh, craning your neck to place a kiss by Frankie’s ear.  “Don’t listen to him, baby, you’ve got a cute ass.”

His cheek grows warm, and warmer still when Benny cuts in: “All right, ease up on hype routine before we gotta call emergency services to get Fish’s giant fuckin’ head out the door.”

“We got a hacksaw in the truck, it’s fine,” you insist, giving Frankie’s thigh a squeeze under the table.  “Not my fault you yahoos have never heard of positive reinforcement.”

Frankie’s chuckle is so low you almost miss it, his face hidden under the bill of his hat.  Santi eyes this display with one of his impressive eyebrows hiked.  He meets your gaze for a second, a knowing smirk on his face that suggests he at least is fully aware of what you’re pulling on his friend right now.  You only smile, sip your drink, and let your hand wander out of sight up and down Frankie’s thigh.

Abruptly Santi thumps Benny’s shoulder with the back of his hand.  “C’mon Benny-boy, I feel like knocking balls around.  I’ll let you win the first round, get you some of your pride back.”

Benny scrunches his face up, scooting away from the table with his hands spread.  “Like hell.  You ain’t letting me do shit, Pope, I’ll kick your ass fair and square.”

Santiago tips you a wink as he ushers Benny off to the pool table.  “Behave yourselves.”

“Hell no,” you shoot back, and he grins.

Immediately Frankie’s mouth brushes your ear.  “You’re a menace,” he says, a little heat crackling through his amusement like dry lightning.

It’s a small effort to school your expression into something reminiscent of innocence before you turn to face him.  “What, can’t a girl pay her boyfriend a compliment?”  You trail your hand up, brushing the back of your knuckles against his fly.  His jeans feel just a bit tighter than they really ought to, and it absolutely delights you.

His eyes seem to darken; no small feat in the already dim light of the bar.  “I know what you’re up to,” he says, that small, pleased smile still curling the corners of his mouth.

“And?” you press, a little laughter coloring your voice.  “Is it working?”

He doesn’t answer, but the way he looks at you suggests he finds it funny you even have to ask.

Emboldened now, you leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth and press your hand a little more firmly between his legs.  “Come on.  You work so hard, and you always take such good care of me.  Let me be sweet on you, Frankie.  You’ve been so good, you deserve a little praise.”

“Querida,” he mutters, low and light enough that his voice nearly cracks.  If it weren’t for the feel of him stiffening you might’ve mistaken the tone for embarrassment rather than barely concealed excitement.

You smile at him, all sugar, and cup him through his jeans, the outline of him clear against the fabric.  “Say it, Frankie.  C’mon baby.  Tell me you’ve been good.”

The bulge under your hand twitches hard and swells, the denim stretching even tighter.  “We’re leaving,” he announces quietly, pulling his coat into his lap as he stands.  “Now.”

Grinning, you stand, unhurriedly slipping on your own coat and waving as Frankie ushers you past the pool table and towards the front door.

“Good night, boys,” you call back over your shoulder.

Santi laughs, and the last thing you hear before the door closes is him announcing to Benny: “Told you.  Not even five minutes.  Pay up, bud.”

Ever the gentleman, even now, he follows you to the passenger side to get the door.  You stretch up, offering a kiss in thanks, but he damn near collapses into it, pushing against you so suddenly the backs of your legs strike the step behind you and you almost lose your balance.  Luckily Frankie’s reflexes are better than yours, even now, and as quickly as you start to feel your balance go he gets an arm around your back, dragging your body flush to his again.  The surprise leaves you giddy and giggling, and before you even know you’re planning on doing it you’re giving his cock a heavy squeeze through his jeans.

“Fuck,” he breathes, breaking away.  “Not here, baby.  Fuck don’t get me started here.  We’ll get caught.”

“Thought you liked it a little risky, Francisco,” you tease, but you still your hand anyway.

“Baby there’s two cruisers parked over there,” he says with a thin laugh, jerking his chin over your left shoulder.  “Shaking my dick at the cops is not the kind of risky I like.”

You glance over and sure enough, there’s two police cars in the parking lot, one of them still occupied and idling.  The men inside don’t appear to be paying you any mind, but Frankie’s right: it’s best if it stays that way.  Sputtering laughter, you pull your hand away and cup the sides of his face, thumbs stroking through his coarse stubble.  “Better take me home then.”

Frankie keeps a close eye on the occupied car as you pull out onto the road, eyes returning again and again to the rearview mirror for at least three blocks before he finally seems to relax a little.  He rolls his shoulders, nodding, muttering a quiet affirmative to himself, and then tenses all over again when you slide your hand back up his thigh.

“Baby,” he warns.  There’s a heady mix of panic and excitement in his eyes as his right hand darts out, grabbing your wrist inches away from your prize.

“Both hands on the wheel, baby,” you tell him evenly.  “Let me do this for you.”  And then you wait, thumb rubbing a slow circle across his denim-covered thigh.  It’s an offer, not an order.  You’re honestly not sure if he’s actually good with this idea, and you’re not about to bulldoze him into something he doesn’t want to do on a blind, horny whim.

He squeezes your wrist a little tighter, then nods.  “Okay,” he whispers, and returns his hand to the wheel. 

“Good boy.  You’ve got this, Frankie.  Just keep your eyes on the road,” you mutter, shifting a little closer and giving him a slow squeeze.  Your heart’s beating faster now, thrilled at the prospect of what you’re about to do - what he’s about to let you do.  “I know how good you are behind the wheel.  What’s it Santi always says?  ‘Anything with wheels or wings,’ that’s your specialty.  You just focus on the road and let me take care of you.”

“Jesus,” he croaks when you undo his belt, lifting his hips automatically as you draw his zipper down and work his jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free.

You can’t help but crow a little at the sight of him: hard and wavering and already welling a glassy bead of pre-come.  “Fuck, I love how hard you get for me, Francisco,” you murmur as you take him in hand, delighted at the rigid heat under your fingers.  He whimpers at the praise, shoulders pushing back hard against the seat.

He’s silent as you begin to stroke him, his jaw set too tight to allow him to speak.  A small whimper escapes him when you swirl your thumb around the head of his cock, spreading that bead of slickness over it. 

To his credit, the truck doesn’t waver in the slightest.  He damn near drives a razor-line down the highway, speed so steady you would’ve thought it was cruise control.  The only real show that this is costing him any kind of effort is the way the steering wheel creaks under his white-knuckle grip.  It’s still early enough that the roads aren’t fully deserted, and it’s taking all of his concentration to keep his focus on what his hands are doing instead of what your hands are doing. 

The light at the intersection ahead turns from yellow to red and he slows to a stop, one hand trembling on the gear shift. In the brief reprieve his eyes slip closed, allowing himself just a minute to fully focus on the sweet, overwhelming friction of your hand.  He shudders, sinking back into the seat as all the pleasure he’d tried to tamp down overspills.  His hips jerk up into your hand, sharp at first and then rocking, chasing the sensation.  A deep, sweet groan tumbles out of his open mouth and Frankie’s eyes flutter closed, his head dropping against the back window hard enough to make it rattle.

“Good, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” he breathes.  

It’s wonderful to see him like this, so willingly overwhelmed and aching for what you want to give him.  It lights you up, a bright, sweet ache that starts low in your belly and blooms out everywhere, flaring up hotter with every little sound he makes.  The heater’s blowing now, warmth swirling around your legs and you hike your dress up, pressing your fingers insistently against your clit through your tights.  

A moan escapes you before you can stop it, teeth clamping down on your lower lip just a bit too late.  Frankie’s head whips around at the sound, mouth agape at the sight of you with one hand around his cock and the other working half-hidden between your legs.  And then you’re reminded of just how fast this man can be, because one moment his right hand is resting on the gear shift and the next it’s pushing your own fingers aside to rub eagerly at your clothed slit.  The fabric is absolutely soaked through, and Frankie swears under his breath.

“You get this wet for me, baby?” he all but whispers, rubbing a slow, firm circle over your clit.

Sighing, you cover his hand with your own, trying to match your strokes with the rhythm of his fingers.  “Mm-hm.  Just for you, Frankie.  You look so sweet like this, I can’t help it.”

“I promise you, baby, you look sweeter.  Fuck, I could eat you up.  Wanna tear these fucking tights off you and bury my face in your sweet little pussy until you can’t think of anything else.”  He’s quiet - he’s always so quiet - but somehow the gentle rasp of his voice only serves to make that stream of filth even hotter.

A sudden honk makes you both jump, Frankie spitting out a stream of obscenity in Spanish while you can only give an undignified squeak.  The light, you realize as you look up, has gone green again.

Frankie fumbles the truck back into gear, waving an apology to the person behind you. As soon as he’s got the truck into gear his hand returns to you, trying to take its place between your legs again.  Despite literally everything in you that desperately wants to feel those thick fingers against your desperately aching cunt, you shake your head.

“Both hands on the wheel, Frankie,” you remind him, considerably more breathless this time than the first.  “The sooner you get me home the sooner you can take these off me just like you want.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re killing me, baby,” he pants shakily as he settles both hands on the wheel again and eases down the road.  

Control is a little harder to come by now that he’s let it slip, his body turned into a perpetual motion machine, rocking back and forth without the need for his input.  He’s dripping like mad, enough that your hand slides easy back up his length.  Your fingers glide over the slick head and he shudders, swearing, and thumps his heel against the floor.

“Don’t-” he chokes, and his hips press up hard against your hand as a thick runner of pre-come trickles down the underside of his cock.

You slow, squeezing him rhythmically.  “‘Don’t’ what, baby?  You want me to stop?”

He groans, gritting his teeth.  “No.  N-no, no.  Just...fuck, if you keep going you’re gonna make me come.  Don’t make me come like this, baby, please.”

“You got something else in mind?  Tell me, Frankie.  You deserve a reward.  Tell me what you want.”

“Christ,” he pants, searching for words and coming up empty, his ability to think stretched far too thin trying to drive a straight line while you nudge him closer and closer to the edge.   “Madre de fucking Dios, baby, goddamn it.” 

Home is still a good five minutes away, but there’s no way Frankie’s going to make it that far.  Grasping his cock tight at the base, you scoot in closer until your chin’s on his shoulder and you can press your mouth right up against his ear.  “Easy, Frankie.  Take a breath, and tell me what you want.”

There’s a thin whistle as he hitches in a deep breath, the loose front of his t-shirt drawing tight under his jacket as his chest expands.  He holds it for a dizzying moment, pulse thudding so heavily his cock bobs in your grip with it.

“I want to fuck you, querida,”  he whines.  “Lemme fuck you, baby, please.  I don’t want to wait until we get home, I want to feel you on my cock now.”

The heat that’s been pooling in your belly bursts into a goddamn fireball, and any desire you had to keep your hand on the reins in this little scenario, to make him wait for it just a little longer, wholly evaporates.  The skin high up on his neck is cool when you press your lips against him, smooth at first and then raising up into goosebumps when you whisper: “Pull over, Frankie.”

“Fuck, I- fuck.”   His throat works, eyes darting between the road and the mirrors, and then his arm shoots out, holding you back against the seat.  There’s a side road ahead, choked with weeds and largely unused, and Frankie takes the turn onto it one-handed, killing the engine as soon as he gets the truck far enough into the weeds to be mostly unnoticed.  

And then he’s on you, his mouth crashing into yours with a staggering intensity, dragging you up to straddle his lap and sliding his hands underneath your dress.  His fingers hit the apex of your thighs, catching at the sodden seam of your tights and wrenching them apart.  The sound of fabric ripping is startlingly loud in the small space, and you gasp against his mouth, stealing his breath.  

Your head spins, wondering if maybe you teased him just a bit too far, but then there’s another rip and your panties are gone, too, fluttering down to catch on the brake pedal.  The hot, wet head of his cock nudges your entrance and suddenly your only thought becomes - oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.  You brace yourself for the jolt, because even as wet as you are Frankie is big, and you’re certain you’ve worked him up so much he hasn’t got the control left to give you time to adjust.

But Frankie always has a way of surprising you.  You’re tensed up, expecting force and speed and instead he pulls you down slow; taking you at a crawl when you expected a sprint, and all you can do is scratch your fingers across his scalp and whine as he fills you up, sweet and hot like honeyed brandy.  He shudders so hard the springs in the seat creak as you slip down another inch, and another, clenching and fluttering around him as he buries himself inside you with a groan so deep it’s nearly a sob.

“Yes, baby,” he mutters, words returning to him in a slow trickle.  He drops his forehead against your chest, his breath lovely and hot on the thin skin between your breasts as he tugs the neckline of your dress down to leave a kiss there.  “Fuck yes. You take me so good.  Keep going.”  His fingers bite into your thigh as you sink down a little more.  “Don’t-don’t stop, baby.  I need to fuck you.  I need to.  Don’t stop.”

His body thrums underneath you as you sink down, every muscle trembling like high-strung wire, ready to snap.  He’s trying so very very hard to hold on long enough to let you open for him, to be ready for him to give you what he wants.  The realization leaves you dizzy, your grip tightening around his shoulders and he lets out a choked moan as you settle fully in his lap and all but gush around his cock.

You’ve got bare seconds before his patience gives out, but you settle your hands on his chest, feeling the race of his heartbeat under the well-worn cotton of his t-shirt, and push yourself just far enough away that you can look down at him properly.  God, you want to move.  You need to move.  Every time with Frankie holds the same sense of shuttered awe, like you forget what it’s like to be this full until he’s inside you again, pressing up against nerves you barely knew you had.

It’s dark now, the streetlights barely reaching into the shaded alley, and Frankie’s face is painted only in shades of blues and blacks.  But even in the darkness you can see that awe-struck look on his face: lips parted, eyes wide and impossibly dark.  The first thing you think rolls straight off your tongue without a second to parse it: “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

And Frankie breaks.

He grits out a sound that’s half a snarl and half a whimper and lunges up into you so hard you have to brace yourself against the roof of the cab to keep from hitting your head.  Without even meaning to you cry out, the air forced out of you in a broken staccato as Frankie plants his feet on the baseboard and fucks up into you so hard you swear you feel the jolt of it lance up brightly through your ribcage.  It’s unrelenting, frantic and primal and fucking overwhelming.  All you can do is wrap your arms tight around his shoulders and hang on, let him take what he needs, letting him give you everything he can.

Frankie’s beyond words.  Teeth bared against your throat, arms locked tight around you.  One of his hands is hooked around your shoulder, the other gripping mercilessly at your ass.  Even as wet as you are you still grip him tight, especially at this angle, and it’s nearly a struggle for him to move, to drag himself out of you and bury himself all over again.  

You want to encourage him.  Want to praise him.  God knows he’s earned it, but every nerve in your body is on fire and you can’t even find the air to breathe, let alone speak.  You manage a sharp, keening whine as he shifts under you, just barely grazing your g-spot.  Every nerve sparks like raw metal on flint and without even meaning to you clamp down on him tight, your body taking the initiative and trying to hold him against that spot, to chase that burn.

Snarling, Frankie shoves you back, your shoulders thudding against the steering wheel.  The change in angle is sudden and shocking and oh god it puts him right where you wanted him, driving up relentlessly against your sweet spot.  It’s brutal and blissful and fucking perfect, and when he shoves his hand under your dress and drags his thumb in shaking circles over your swollen clit it’s even better.  It’s fucking heaven, and you’ve got no idea how much more of it you can take.  Your whole body shakes, unmindful of any direction you might give it.  Your hand strikes out blindly, knocking hard against the solid plane of his chest and grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt.

“Please, baby,” he groans through gritted teeth, and you have just enough senses left to hear just how close he is to coming, and how desperate he is to get you there, too.  “C’mon.  Come for me.  Please.”

“F-f-frankie.”  So close.  Each thrust, each stroke of his fingers pushes you a little closer to your peak, all other sensations fading out and making room for the overload.  You’re not sure if you could see anything even if it was broad daylight right now, but goddamn it you wish you could see his face...

The last thing you hear is Frankie’s shaking voice pleading with you: “Please baby.”  And then there’s just a ringing, high and tuneless.  You have the barest second to wonder if you’ve truly gone deaf and then, like the sheer enormity of it was too much for your brain to process at once, then you come.  Every muscle contracts and you seize up, shuddering, all control over your body lost.  Your throat burns, and it isn’t until Frankie’s hand clamps down over your mouth to quiet you that you understand why.

His heel pounds the floor and he thrusts up into you once more, lifting you up as he goes rigid, under you and inside you, his arms locking tight around your body.  He comes with a broken sob, his face buried against your neck as he quakes his way through the spasms.

The ringing fades, and you listen to the sound your mingled breathing, harsh and labored.  You tighten your grip on him, curl one arm around his head so you can brush his hair back - god, when had he lost his hat in all this? - and press a long kiss to his damp forehead.

Your throat’s a wreck, your voice rough and uneven when you finally find it again.

“Good boy,” you murmur.

“Love you, baby,” he says hoarsely, the words stifled against your skin.  “Jesus Christ I fucking love you.”

“Love you too, Francisco.”

He laughs, breathless and utterly come-drunk.  “Fuck, we need to get out of here.  Somebody definitely heard that.”

You stroke your fingers through his hair, too pleasantly fuzzed to care overmuch about that.  “Hm.  I’m gonna make a mess of the seat,” you complain drowsily, already feeling him begin to trickle out of you as his cock softens.

“‘S okay, baby,” he says, the scratch of his stubble oddly soothing as he kisses his way up your neck. “As soon as we get home I promise I’ll clean you up.”

His tongue traces a shockingly warm line up to the corner of your jaw, and your legs tremble at the suggestion.  

“Very good boy,” you amend.

.

[zannadu]

Now nobody asked for this but I’m going to do it anyway.

Includes: Katsuki Bakugou, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, and Mina Ashido

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex, kissing, and just dumb funny shit

MHA as Stoners

Katsuki Bakugou

It varies how fast he gets high, but his favorite way to smoke is with a simple joint

Okay this man will refuse to do any at first

But eventually will give in after the rest of the Bakusquad convinces him

(Though he will say “whatever I’ll do it”)

After the first smoke sesh with the squad he began to enjoy it more so he now does it more often.

If you are with him, he will either have a hard time being around her or will want to be next to you the whole time.

If you hold him he will act nonchalant but inside he will be exploding (no pun intended)

He will do his best to cuddle without making you uncomfortable.

He will get the munchies bad and insist you come with him to get more snacks every thirty minutes

He is much more open with his feelings and willing to talk more without yelling

He calms down a lot

He will show much more affection to you around people than he normally does.

Cuddling, kissing, squeezing, biting the whole PDA shabang.

He will not give two shits what everyone else thinks.

And when he finally has you alone, that’s when it gets a little hot and heavy. 👀

And he doesn’t even mean to.

Not that you’re complaining. ✌️

—————————————

Katsuki’s hands snaked their way around your waist and his face found a home in the crook of your neck.

“You know, if you want to cuddle, you could just say so,” you stated, resting your hand on his locked arms. He let out a soft groan against your skin. His breathing was slow and his eyes foggy. He squeezed you tighter and moved his hands to intertwine them with yours. His heavy eyes looked up and around the room meeting with everyone else’s eyes.

“You're touchy tonight,” Sero snickered, taking another hit off the joint that currently sat, squished in between his fingers.

Katsuki did nothing but roll his eyes and squeezed your fingers. He placed his mouth closer to your ear, his breath just tickling your ear lobe. Suddenly his teeth began to nibble on your ear, sending shivers down your arms, evident with the goosebumps now arise on your delicate skin.

“What do you say that we go to my room, I want you, ” his voice was low and husky. His fingers released from yours and fiddled the hem of your clothing and caressed your soft skin. His teeth began to but harder, causing you to gasp. He then continued to nibble slowly moving to your neck. How could you say no?

Eijiro Kirishima

It doesn't take very much to get him high so his favorite way to smoke is with a dab pen

Now usually this baby boy is sweet and manly

But when he's been smoking he gets VERY hungry

Like he will eat the entire kitchen.

He will space out a lot but will still listen to you if you're trying to talk to him

(or he will try to)

“Wait, what did you say?”

He isn't afraid of PDA either however he will wait till he's in private with you.

(as he should, he's respectful)

You might need to help him to his room

And try not to let him hug you until you're in bed because he will NOT let go until morning.

He is very sentimental and will give the BEST advice

“Babe, will you come to get food with me please🥺?”

“Kiri, you have a whole pint of ice cream, three bags of chips, AND meat buns. You don't need anything else😂”

He would pout omg.

He would fall asleep if you play with his hair in an instant

—————————————

Kirishima laid in your lap, and you picked up each piece of his hair and gently let it fall. He had showered and decided on no gel, therefore his hair is silky soft.

“Babe, why did you let me eat so much?” he groaned looking up at you. All you could do was laugh, being high just made everything funnier. He began to pout which ceased your laughter.

“I tried to stop you, but you wouldn't listen, ” you almost began to laugh again. He groaned and held his stomach.

“Next time, don't let me eat so much, ” he squeezed his eyes so much. You continued playing with his hair and smiled at the tired boy.

His eyes began to close and he looked up at you and soon he was out cold.

Denki Kaminari

His favorite way to smoke it with a pipe. Just makes him feel cool and the glass is trippy

Denki is usually very goofy and doesn't take things seriously, but when he's high he gets very philosophical

Like this man will talk about how space is so big and how a fish finds its way home.

Anything that will make you question your existence

He won't even realize what he's talking about until he looks at the rest of the group who is just starting wide-eyed and thinking about their whole existence on earth.

For some reason, he seems smarter than he lets people believe.

If he's with you he will be resting his head in your lap

He will have deep conversations sigh you

He will unknowingly rub small circles on your thighs while he's lost in thought💕

Continues to pick on Bakugou and how he's much different stoned

Usually wants alone time with you afterward, he feels safer when you sleep with him

He likes to be the little spoon

—————————————

Denki sat on the bed and leaned against the wall. His eyes studied the ceiling, his mouth slightly agape in a soft smile as he got even more lost in his thoughts. His eyes were almost entirely closed. The hushed murders from the other teens seemed to entirely disappear. The soft music that was also playing just took his mind further into the abyss.

“Hey do you guys think it's crazy that one muscle in your body is the reason you are alive, and if it just decides to quit one day you will just topple over and die?” Denki continued to stare up at the ceiling. The entire room went silent, the only noise was the light music.

“Dude what the fuck, ” sero looked at home from down on the floor. Denki shifted his head to look at the rest of the gang who were all just staring at him.

“What, I'm just saying, ” he shrugged his shoulders. You just looked at him and laughed. That was the most random thing to say and he probably would do it again soon.

“C’mon baby let's get you to bed, ” you grabbed his hand and went out of the room making sure to say goodnight to everyone. One thing was for sure, Denki could not WAIT to be cuddled.

Sero Hanta

This man's the og stoner and will hit a bong over everything else.

When Sero is stoned he makes sure everyone else is having fun

He makes sure everyone is comfortable with what they are doing

If someone doesn't know how to do something, like hit a bong, he will gladly show them

He is a weed mom

The best kind of mom honestly

If someone is paranoid or worried about an adult finding out or getting in trouble, he will try his darn hardest to calm them down

Has the necessities

Carries gum, eye drops, perfume or cologne on him at all times.

Has a pipe on him always

Provides the goods 🌿

Now let me tell you, this man gets HELLA horny when he's stoned

If everyone is settled in and comfortable he will turn his attention to you.

He doesn't even hide it.

“Mi amor, you look beautiful right now”

He will make you so flustered you will have to leave the room.

—————————————

“Sero, what are you doing?” you ask as me scoots over to you across the floor. You can't help but laugh. The cheesy grin on his face was everything at the moment. It seemed like you were the only two in the room.

“Just coming over to check on you, mi amor, ”he purred as he placed his finger under your chin to make you look into his eyes. His eyelids were heavy, the red tint covered by a foggy gloss, just made him that much hotter. He blinked slowly and began to inch closer to your lips.

“Sero, ” you breathed out right before gently placed his lips on yours, moving to pull your body impossibly closer to his. His lips worked over yours as you found your rhythm. He pulled away looking up at your eyes from your lips.

He leaned forward again, this time next to your ear so no one else could hear but you.

“I can't wait till everyone leaves so I can finally find out how good you taste.”

Mina Ashido

This girl's favorite way to smoke is a simple joint

She is great at rolling

(cuz she's good with her fingers if you know what I mean)

She is definitely in charge of the music and the vibes it puts off

But will also try and get everyone to go out and do stuff like getting food or to annoy Aizawa.

She also is the person laughing the most

She will laugh at literally anything

Kirishima making jokes about food or how hungry he is, Denki just acting dumb, or getting a rise outta Bakugou, whatever it is she will be laughing

This girl is part of the alphabet mafia and you can't change my mind🏳️‍🌈

Now she's is a cutie when it comes to relationships

She won't act inappropriately in front of everyone else out of respect for you

However, when she gets you alone that's a whole other story

—————————————

“C’mon y/n, let's go to my room. I have something to show you, ” Mina smirked at you and squeezed your hand in hers. You had no other choice to follow her as you were already headed out of Sero’s room and straight to her room. You didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to everyone.

You finally made it to her room and she closed the door behind you.

“What did you want to show me?” you asked sitting on her bed. You look around the very pink room and back to her standing in front of you. Mina looked you up and down and reached out to grab your cheeks gently with her hands. She leaned down and kissed you gently, working for her hands down to the hem of your shirt, eager to get it off. Her eyes glazed over and watched your every movement as you striped your clothes. Her fingers grazed over the sides of your arms and you went back in for a kiss. She pushed you farther back onto the bed, straddling her legs around your waist.

“This is going to be fun, ” she said breathlessly and pulled you in yet again for another lustful kiss.

Asks are open!!! This is my first official post on here, advice would be fantastic, or if you have any ideas that would be awesome! Thank you for reading😁❤️

[andilovetowrite]

Initial Shyness(P.P x Reader)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Confessions are cute, right? Especially when you have been waiting for years to say it out loud. But what happens when the initial shyness wears off? And we all know Peter isn’t as innocent as he seems ;)

Warnings: Nothing but some unending fluff. Lots of Peter rambling and awkward kisses :)

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

“C’mon, you can do it!” hissed MJ from beside you. She pushed you toward’s Peter’s door, making you stumble. Still, you tried to hold back against MJ, who you realized, was freakishly strong.

“I can’t! Nope. No way.” You shook your head, crossing your arms. MJ sighed, probably too tired for your crap.

“Oh come on Y/N! I cannot hear another word about Peter again.”, she said, looking too serious.

“But-”

“Not one more word”

“I-”

“So what you are going to do is go into his room, go up to him, confess your feeling, and then kiss him.” She looked at you expectantly. “Am I clear?”

“Uh- just one component you are missing out on….I don’t have the balls to tell Peter I like him!”

MJ rolled her eyes, coming to stand next to you. “Yes, you don’t. And that’s why, I am really really sorry for what I am going to do next.” You didn’t even have time to figure out what she meant before you were pushed into Peter’s room harshly by Ned and MJ. As soon as most of you was inside, they shut the door behind you and you heard the door lock behind you.

“Oh COME ON!”, you said, trying to open the door.

“You know what to do!”, MJ said back, her voice muffled. You sighed, turning around to see Peter looking at you, a slight smile on his face. Oh, and what an amazing smile he had. His eyes crinkled, and small dimples showed up on his face. His pearly whites showed through his pink lips that you have dreame-

“Hey Y/N...what’s up?” Peter asked, snapping you out of your Peter-sized daydream.

“Huh-uh, so um- MJ just wanted some-uh alone time with- with uh Ned. Yeah”, you said, trying to think of anything other than the fact that you had a gigantic crush on your best friend.

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched up, confused. “Why would she want to talk to Ned?”

“Uh-um wanting to know something about uh-English…”

“Okay”, Peter said, drawing out the word. You could see he didn’t believe you so you did the most logical thing. A logical course of action that anybody in your situation would do. Lie.

“Well, she actually wanted me to show you something, um-on the roof”, you said, biting your lip, trying to figure out what to do once you got on the roof.

“Alright, let’s go!”, Peter said quickly, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, feeling the warmth seep into your body and make it’s way up to your cheeks. You held on, knowing that this would be the last time if Peter didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

Jumping out the window, you let out a small yelp as Peter grabbed your waist, holding onto you tight as he pulled you two to the rooftop. Landing onto the ground, you held on for dear life, looking at Peter.

“Give me a warning next time! I thought you were going to chuck me out the window…”

“Oh please, then who would I have to annoy all the time?”, he asked teasingly. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in.

“Well, you would lose your best friend…”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t see the way Peter’s face contorted into a grimace as he looked down.

“Yeah, but not only my best friend but the coolest person in Queens!” You cracked a smile, a red tint making its way up to your neck as you heard him speak. “I mean, you are so damn smart and pretty...Not to mention, so badass. I mean, I saw how you elbowed Flash in the-”

“Okay, let’s not relive it” You interjected. Peter smiled at that, walking both of you over to the other side of the roof. “Where are we going?”, you asked, confused.

“Uh, so I just wanted to-uh. Just come and see this”, Peter said, scratching his head slightly. Not knowing what to do, you just followed him, hoping you would see what he was talking about. And you weren’t expecting this.

A plush rose blanket spread out across half of the roof, with rose petals thrown here and there. In the middle of it was a small picnic box, with food sticking out of it. You could see some books stacked in the corner and a couple pillows as well. The light reflected off the buildings around you, giving the entire space an orangish-pinkish glow. You were so engrossed in the spread, you didn’t even notice Peter shakily taking out a small bouquet of roses from behind him.

“Peter, wha-what is this?”, you asked, shocked.

Bringing out the roses, he held it out to you, a blush the same color as the flowers making it’s way up to both of your cheeks. “I-um, heard what you and uh MJ were talking about a-a couple um days ago. So-I uh decided to ask Mr Stark to help me out with thi-”

“Wait a second. Tony Stark helped you out with this?!”, you asked, shocked at why your dad would help Peter out with this small thing. I mean, it-he shouldn’t care so much about Peter’s best friend, right?

“Yeah-uh, so I um set this out for you, and asked MJ to help me get you in my roo-”

“MJ has been in on this?”, you asked, suddenly remembering how she and Peter had been talking discreetly a few days ago.

Peter just nodded, looking down as a dopey smile made it’s way to his face. You cleared your throat, trying to figure out what was happening. You weren’t dumb, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions to quickly.

“Why-why would yo-is this-uh”, you tried to speak, with little success. You could feel you face heat up in embarrassment, so you just stared at the flowers in Peter’s hands.

“I-uh really, um like you Y/N. Like more than a-a friend. And much more than a best friend. I know yo-you may not like me back, but I couldn’t keep it in any longe-”

You know it’s rude to interrupt someone when they are speaking. But you couldn’t hear anyother word come out of his mouth, because otherwise you would’ve melted. So you did the next best thing. You kissed him. Hard.

His words got caught in his throat as his lips met yours. And for a second you were worried you went too far, pulling back. But as soon as he felt you doing that, his hands went to your hair, pulling you flush against him, kissing you back with fevour.

You wish you could’ve stopped time. Right there. During a beautiful sunset, on the roof surrounded by rose petals, and with Peter in your arms. And in your mouth. But sadly, you needed air to breathe, so you pulled away, probably looking like a fish straight out of the water. Opening your eyes, you could see Peter’s face. His pupils were dilated and his entire face was a pink hue. His lips were plump and red, but pulled up in a lovesick smile.

You knew you had the exact same expression on your face. Smiling softly, you looked at Peter, and at the same time, you both said.

“I really like you”

“I really like you”

Giggling, you hesitantly took the crushed flowers from Peter, breathing them in.

“They got squashed”, Peter said, running his hands over the petals.

You shrugged, not caring. “Well, it wasn’t only your fault. I think it was a two-person thing..”, you said cheekily, smirking at Peter.

He laughed, throwing his arms over you and pulling you in for a hug. You breathed in his signature scent and melted against him, your heart full. It would’ve been perfect if not for the eruption of clapping and whistles from behind you.

“Wha-”

“GOOD JOB PETE!”, MJ yelled, running to the both of you, Ned and May close behind. Crashing into you, you laughed as she looked at Peter. “Better take care of her, got it?”

Peter nodded, kissing my cheek. And just as he did that, a flash went off fro next to you. “Nice job Underoos. Watch the lips though. Don’t get too close to my daughter.” Tony’s voice went through the air, making you jump.

“Dad?!”, you said, shocked.

“Mr Stark?!”

“Yes yes, I was spying on you. But at least I’m not like Nat and Thor. They have been circling the building for the last 15 minutes.”

Tony said, shrugging as he pointed to the sky, where you could see the two of them waving at you.

“Oh god”, you groaned, throwing your head back. Peter looked at you, white as a ghost, before giving a scared nod at your dad.

“Yes sir, I’ll be very-um-uh good to Y/N. I mea-she is uh so pretty-wait that’s not-uh and smart- but that’s not-,” he stuttered, eyes wide. Helping out the poor boy, you shooed everyone away.

“Bye, dad. Please take Nat and Thor home with you. We’ll be back soon”

“Not later than 11, got it? And remember Peter, hands to yourself.”

“Yes M-Mr Stark”

Giggling, you watched as everyone walked away, leaving you with Peter. “Sorry bout that”

“Oh, it’s fine. I got the girl of my dreams tonight. Nothing could beat that” Blushing you pulled him in for a short kiss, before hugging him tightly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wish you say that was the end of the story. That you both lived happily ever after. But sadly, with a group of friends and family, privacy was not the best. And you were very sorry to say that you scarred more people than you had hoped to scar in the next few months.

The first victim though was none other than Aunt May. And boy oh boy did she not look at you two for weeks after the incident.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alright! This was really fun to write, and this is such a cute idea, so I kinda want to make this into a series where people walk in on Peter and Y/N, so let’s see where it goes. But the next part will be out in a couple of days once my exams end :) Also, on that note, wish me luck, since I have my math exam tomorrow. Anyway, until next time!

Taglist: @a--1--1--3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @ladykxxx08

[babyflossy]

you have to wait | n.jm

pairing; jaemin x fem!reader

summary; you weren’t sure how jaemin stayed so calm every time you decided to tease him, but you aren’t going to complain.

genre/warnings; softdom!jaemin, smut, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, teasing, overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), lowkey kinda filthy

word count; 3k lmao i’m going to hell

if you were asked why you found teasing jaemin the most fun thing in the world, you wouldn't be able to give a straight answer. there was just something about the harsh angle of his jaw when he clenches it, and the way his fingers leave hot trails up and down your thighs when you sit next to him that is simply addicting. in fact, jaemin himself is addicting to you, and you are weak to his power over you.

tonight is no different and you see the familiar twitch of his eyebrow when you let your hand trail a little too high on his thigh. under the dim lights of the restaurant, you doubt anyone would even notice what you're doing, but you can tell it's annoying him anyway. a larger hand covers your own and he looks down at you with sharp eyes, pulling your hand off him and back onto the tablecloth.

for the next few minutes, you decide to let him eat in peace, sipping your drink every now and then, making sure to lick the excess off your lips a little too slowly. he doesn't fail to notice and you watch in satisfaction as his eyes drop to watch the movement. as if realising he's falling into your trap his eyes snap back to his food, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows harshly.

"don't you think it's a little hot in here?" your voice sounds innocent enough but jaemin freezes when you pull on the straps of your dress, the neckline slipping far too low for his liking. it's obvious to him what you're trying to do and he refrains from rolling his eyes. you were always one to push his buttons at times like this.

a few quiet moments pass, the lull of the chatter in the restaurant making it so much easier for him to focus on the trail of sparkles your necklace leaves as it slips far further down your chest. he gulps again, mind flitting between filthy images of you in nothing but that necklace and the dainty heels adorning your feet. then your hand is back on his thigh and his jaw clenches again, regaining his composure.

the way he murmurs your name is stern but not intimidating, simply a warning that you need to stop before he loses his patience. you pretend to contemplate his thinly veiled threat, thinking about the two possible outcomes. did you want him rough or not? you think back to last time you made him angry, the hickeys and the bruises from his fingertips and decide you don’t want it that rough tonight. with a sly smile you remove your hand, instead choosing to toy with the cutlery.

the rest of your dinner passes in much the same way; playing with the cuffs of jaemin’s suit jacket, twirling the pearls of your earrings with your fingers delicately, all whilst shooting him the same smile you hope is pure enough for your intentions to be concealed to the people around. at one point you manage to sneak your hand up the whole expanse of his thigh to the quickly hardening bulge and he nearly chokes on his water, cheeks flushing and strong fingers prying you off him. “you have to wait until we get home, baby.”

the words provoke a whine from you and jaemin huffs out a laugh, secretly loving how you always seem so desperate for him. after a few more pointed glances and lingering touches he stand abruptly, waving over the waiter and throwing a stack of notes onto the table.

you try to suppress a smirk as he guides you out the restaurant, hands on your hips keeping you in front of him to cover the obvious erection in his pants. hsi breath is hot on your neck as he thanks the waiter holding the door open for you.

once outside he pulls you beside him, an arm wraps around your waist and he looks down at you with an almost unimpressed expression. “you need to learn a lesson in patience, angel.” whatever commanding tone he’s going for is muffled by the giggle he lets out when you start pressing feathery kisses to his cheek.

“it’s not my fault you look like a literal god in that suit, jaemin.” the compliment tints the tops of his cheeks pink and you kiss his nose for good measure.

“well, you look simply delectable in that dress, baby.” his voice doesn’t change but he stares you down with something darker in his eyes that has your thighs pressing together. jaemin notices and smirks, pulling you to the car quicker.

the elevator ride up to your shared apartment is tense and the final ding signaling you were on your floor sounded like music to your ears. jaemin slips his hand into your and pulls you down the hallway, fishing out his keys and unlocking the door in record speed. he kicks it shut behind you and you’re pushed against the wood before you can register what’s happening.

jaemin’s lips are hot with need, pushing against yours with such ferosity you grip his shoulders to anchor yourself. for a moment, he drops to your neck and sucks harshly on the delicate skin under your ear, blowing on the spot as he pulls away and it makes you shiver. he wastes no time in fisting the fabric of your dress around your waist, tapping your thigh to tell you to jump. once your legs wrap around his hips he expertly manouvoerus you into the bedroom without breaking away from your lips.

moonlight shines through the room to your face as jaemin throws you onto the bed, taking a second to admire the ethereal glow of the watery filter. once against impatient, you lock your hands behind his head and pull his lips to meet yours in a fiery kiss. there’s nothing aggressive about it tonight, only hot and needy but still careful.

one of jaemin’s warm palms tips your head up to enable him to deepen the kiss, nibbling on your bottom in a way that makes you gasp. he takes the oppurtunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, sucking your own to the rythmn of his hands moving up your body.

they stop on your breasts, kneading the soft flesh under your dress and making you let out a moan that sounds desperate even to your own ears. it goes straight to jaemin’s dick, however, and he reaches down between your bodies to rub at the tops of your thighs.

sick of waiting, you break away to tell him to hurry up but words die on your tongue and morph to a whimper as his fingers ghost over your clit, settling on either side of the sensitive bud and pulling. the movement elicits another feeble whimper and a buck of your hips to try and get more. he chuckles, finally pushing your soaked panties down your legs and throwing them into the room behind him.

without the wet fabric blocking him, jaemin can pull his fingers through your folds, cursing at how wet you are. “fuck, baby,” he groans into your neck, “you need me that badly, huh?” you’re not sure how his teasing manages to still affect you after so long together but the words still make your thighs close involuntarily.

he treats you to one quick circle of your clit before he pulls away, dropping himself to lie inbetween your legs, head resting on your chest and eyes staring up at you deceptively innocenlty. you know what he wants you to do and you don’t stop the roll of your eyes. “go on, sweetie.” his voice is sickly sweet and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

“really? haven’t we done this enough already?”

“none of this sounds much like begging, baby.” as if to rub in his power over you, he pushes himself up onto his arms and makes to move away. “i can handle myself if you don’t want to–”

“no, no, no,” whatever pride you have left is buried immediately and you wrap your arms around his shoulders to prevent him moving away. “please, jaems, i need you so badly.” to your disappointment, he still doesn’t look convinced and you swallow the last remnants of your dignity before leaning up to his ear to whipser, “i need your cock so so badly, daddy.”

delight fills you when you feel him freeze, mocking smile fading from his face as his dark eyes meet yours again. “such a needy baby.” this is a good sign, you know, and you feel excitement fill you instantly as you realise what he’s goingto say next. "tell me what you need."

you could cry with happiness, instead choosing to crash your lips against his again. this time it’s messier, teeth clashing and lips bruising but he still pulls away with a smile. “fingers, please, i need your fingers, jaem–”

just as he’s making his way down your body he pauses and shoots you a pointed look. “ah, ah, ah. what do we call me?”

“daddy.”

“that’s a good girl.” you hate how the words make your heart flutter.

just as you wished, you feel cold fingers prodding at your entrance. slowly, he eases two in and you groan at the stretch, leaning into his shoulder and pressing kisses to the base of his neck. the pace he sets is unforgiving and you moan loudly when the tips of his fingers tap the soft spot in your that makes your vision swim. “right there?” he coaxes another moan from you when he focuses on that spot specifically, pulling his thumb up to rub at your clit.

“fuck,” your breathing is uneven, chest heaving as you bite into his shoulder. all you can do is chant curses as the knot in your stomach tightens quickly. “i’m gonna cum.”

“already?” the teasing’s back. fantastic, you think dryly. “but, baby, i’ve barely done anything.” despite his words, he doesn’t slow down his fingers, instead choosing to do the opposite and speed up until the lewd sounds of your wetness overpower your whimpers. “let go, angel, daddy’s got you.”

you cum over his fingers with a cry, legs shaking and eyes screwed shut as his fingers keep their unforgiving pace. when the aftershocks have calmed down but his fingers haven’t you look down at him to find him staring up at you with a cheeky grin. the thumb on your clit presses down harder and your hips buck involuntarily at the overstimualtion.

jaemin’s free hand pulls at your dress’s loose neckline until your lacy bra is exposed. the hand travels inside one of the cups, pulling your nipple in a way you can only moan at. at this point, everything else has faded to the background, the only thing you can focus on his hands that are barrelling you towards a second orgasm before your first one has even worn off.

“you gonna cum again, princess?” just as his voice breaks through your blissed out haze, his lips drop to your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth. your teetering on the edge of bliss once again and the soft grazing of his theeth on your clit and his fingers pressing into your g-spot finally push you over. colours burst behind your eyelids and you chant his name like a mantra, unable to stop your legs closing around his head.

when he at last pulls away from you, you’re trying to catch your breath, eyes still shut and legs still jolting. "look at you, such a mess." he mumbles before his lips encase your own. you can taste your own sweetness on his tongue as he licks around your mouth.

it’s only then that you remember jaemin’s still completely clothed, his suit looking painfully tight over his crotch. as if reading your mind he sits up, slipping his arms through his jacket as you finger at his tie until it loosens enough for you to pull it over his head. now free of the most restrictive items, you grasp at his belt buckle before he helps you, laughing at the frustrated sigh you let out.

jaemin wastes no longer and pulls his slacks and boxers down his legs, kicking them off the egde of the bed. once free of the clothing, he pulls your own dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your heels that you still haven’t taken off and his favourite red lace bra. he slips his hand under you to unclip the lingerie and pulls it from you.

“my heels–” you protest as he flips you over, pulling your knees up to get you in position.

“leave them on, they make your legs look sexy.” if you were in any other circumstance you would have laughed and teased him but the tone of his voice is deadly serious and you back off. “can you take me now, or do you need a minute?”

sure, your thighs ache, and you still haven’t caught your breath, but the fear of disappointing him is too strong for you to argue. “now.”

“are you sure? you just came twice in a row–”

“please, daddy.”

you hear him curse, rubbing the arch of your back before he leans down to kiss between your shoulder blades. “fuck, baby, you have no idea what you do to me.” hands grope at your ass and jaemin pumps himself a few times before bumping his tip on your clit. you tense as he starts pushing in but one swipe of your clit and you’re putty in his hands. literally.

the strength abandones your arms and your head falls into the pillows as he bottoms out, groaing deeply at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. slowly, he pulls out and slams back in, the harshness of the action making you bite the pillow to muffle your scream. jaemin notices and loops his hands around your shoulders, pulling you up so your back is flush to his chest, one hand staying around your waist to keep you upright. “i wanna hear you, babygirl.”

his dick stretches you so perfectly you have to find purchase on his thighs to keep yourself grounded. your head lolls back onto his shoulder when he hits your sweet spot again, nothing but a high pitched whine leaving your lips. it’s different to your normal moans, desperate and sharp and it makes jaemin’s hip stutter. he doesn’t wait to tell you how you much he loves it. "god, the noises you make are incredible."

as if to prove his point, another strong circle over your clit and it draws the same noise from you. he keeps his fingers there, resting two on either side of your bud and pulling, just like he did earlier, but this time it feels so much stronger after all the pleasure that’s been loaded on you. “daddy,” you choke out, head turning to suck at the stop under his ear that pulls a moan from him. “i’m so close.” as the coil in your abdomen tightens his pace increases until your moans are so loud you’re sure the neighbours can hear.

jaemin doesn’t seem to care, however, only encouraging you on. "c'mon, angel, i know you can be louder than that." and you are, as he delivers a particularly storng thrust that pushes you straight over the edge of ecstasy again, your third orgasm crashing down onto you unforgivingly.

when the thrusting of hips doesn’t let up you go slack in his arms. “i can’t– jaemin, it’s too much–”

he shushes you before you can finish, dropping his head to press a gentle kiss to your lips. it’s delicate and loving and to oppose to how he’s handling you and it leaves you dizzy. “can you be a good girl and take it? do it for daddy.” you’re shaking as he chases his own high. you want– no you need– to show him how good you can be for him and you grip your hands over his where they rest on your torso. “i’m so close baby, you’re doing so well for me.”

with a few final thrusts and you clenching around him, he’s spilling into you, hips stilling to press himself as deep as possible into your tight core. the moans he lets out into your ear are raspy and deep and nothing short of angelic. you shiver as he pulls out, his cum starting to drip down your thighs and he sets you down on the mattress as if you were made of glass.

“you did so well, baby,” he giggles when he lays down beside you. all he manages to get out of you is a sleepy smile. “i’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

you don’t have the energy to reply and feel your eyes drooping as he brings a warm cloth to clean the sweat and cum off you legs. when he’s finished, he drops it in the bathroom and moves back to you, stroking your legs comfortingly as he pulls your shoes off, setting them gently in front of the wardrobe before finally slipping into bed with you.

the covers are pulled over you and you feel his arms pull you into him. “i love you.” you mumble a reply and bury your face into his chest, thoroughly worn out but also feeling strangely warm.

the last thing you remember before you slip into sleep is jaemin’s soft words as he kisses up and down the sides of you face and you smile.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Legally Yours - Ch. 07

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester tops the list of hottest entrepreneurs 2020 and yet, there’s still something he wants but can’t have because, in order to get that, he would have to settle down and get married. She agrees too quickly because she wants to secure a more comfortable life for her and her daughter. Will she be able to help Dean get what he wants without losing herself in the fake story they spin up to deceive his father and the world?

Chapter Warnings: A little nerves, a little fluff, a little angst at the dinner

WC: 4225

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Y/N’s mouth opens and closes in quick succession.

She keeps on shaking her head, “I’m sorry, I think I must have not heard right,” She starts to chuckle but it’s not a good chuckle, it comes out more drily, like she tries to override her confusion with it, and Dean cocks an eyebrow, thinks she’s adorable how she keeps shaking her head. “I thought you said that if this should blow up because of me that I’d have to marry you,”

“That’s exactly what I said,” His voice is steady because he really means it.

“Oh no,” She shakes her head again, continues to look at him puzzled, “You can’t be serious,”

“I’m dead serious,”

“Dean, you don’t even know what you’re saying,” She looks around the hallway, looks up at the ceiling, as if she’s trying to spot a damn camera. 

“Hey, Y/N, look at me,” Dean waits until her gaze is back on him and then he stares her down, “Sweetheart, do I look like I’m joking?”

She narrows her eyes as she looks at him, and Dean notices that she tries to see in his eyes if he’s joking. He can tell that she’s trying to read something. Fucking anything. But she can’t. They never can. Maybe she’ll get it, she never will. He’s hard to read, is not really an open book. He doesn’t think there’s anyone out there in this world who can read him and that’s because Dean wants it that way. He has built up his business persona, has shaped himself to be unreadable, unpredictable even. It works to his advantage.

Her eyes go back to their usual size, but there’s a frown between her eyebrows, “Give me one good reason why you would want that?” 

Dean reaches out his hand, grazes her cheek with his knuckles before he moves his thumb up, rubs gently in between her eyebrows with it to ease the frown. 

“I think,” He starts to say and pauses to clear his throat, using the time to think his words thoroughly. His thumb leaves her again, pulls his hand back and sticks it back into his pants pockets. He only realizes it now that he’s been touching her. Has been touching her more than he probably should. In private. After he composes himself, he starts to speak again, “The most important reason is, that eventually, I will have to get married anyway. I should keep up our arrangement, it just seems easier.”

It’s not bad for him, who’s a businessman, to want to stick to a deal that’s already going on when both parties benefit from it, right? Right. But somehow there’s a feeling in his gut that tells him that what he just said was wrong.

The frowns back and she looks at him like she doubts him and there’s something he can detect in her eyes that he can’t quite put his finger on. Was it disappointment? 

He quickly tries to save the mood. 

“But don’t worry,” Dean chuckles and looks down at her, pulling his chin to his chest. It’s most definitely not his best angle, most definitely he doesn’t look like the hottest entrepreneur 2020 like this. But hey, she’s stuck with him now and he’s stuck with her. Time to get accustomed to the side that’s not always rainbows and cupcakes, and somehow it works because the frown’s gone. “It’ll only happen if you lose,” 

Y/N snorts. She’s trying her best to keep her cool he guesses, and she crosses her arms over her chest. It prompts her tits to be squished and they almost spill out of because of the wide cleavage. Dean knows he shouldn’t but it’s almost impossible. So, he does what every man would be doing, he risks a glance, hopes she doesn’t notice. 

But she does. Because he knows by the way the corner of her lips curve up that she must have noticed him staring. And it’s like she’s taunting him because she presses her arms together some more as she starts to grin. It’s all cocky and fuck, he’d never thought he’d see a cocky smile on a girl that matches his. 

“Fine, just don’t come crying when you have to fork over a new apartment, loverboy,” She ends up smiling satisfactorily, it’s almost too cute.

Dean chuckles again, “That only happens when I lose, sweetheart,” And then he leans closer, brushes his lips against the shell of her ear to whisper to her. It could be his imagination, but she’s shivering. From up close he can smell her perfume, and he absolutely loves the scent on her. Dean keeps his voice  low when he speaks, “And I never lose, baby,”

Standing back, Dean holds out a hand out for her to shake. Y/N does, with a narrowing of her eyes, grips his hand just a little tighter to tell him silently, that’s she’s not a loser as well. 

He likes that. Likes how she absolutely is down to compete. 

“Got yourself a deal there,” Dean nods and instead of letting go of her hand, he holds it tighter, keeps it in his as he pulls her along the hallway and into the dining room.

 *

As he pulls a chair out for her to sit on, the doorbell rings. Dean should have known, his dad’s never late.

“Dean,” She whispers.

“What?”

“Why is there so much silverware?”

He laughs. Full on.

She elbows him in the ribs because the footsteps of his father and the maid are coming closer. 

“Seriously, which ones do I choose?” Y/N hisses.

His father is already in the room and comes closer, so Dean leans over to her, whispers into her ear, “Work your way from the outside in. They are placed in the order of use. It’s not hard,” 

“‘K,” 

She nods, but the frowns still there so Dean reaches under the table, lays his hand on her thigh, squeezes reassuringly and she wants to stand up and greet his dad, but Dean holds her down, thumb drawing circles on her skin, “Stay,”

They aren’t formal. His father usually sits down to eat because that’s what he came here for. It’s not a fucking social party. There are no eyes on them and John Winchester doesn’t go out of his way to impress anyone when the press is not around.

And as Dean predicted, his father sits down before he even greets them.

“Y/N, Dean,” There’s a courtesy nod.

  Dean and his dad hold small talk and it isn’t two minutes later that the maid brings in their first course. 

While she was getting dressed, the chef sent the maid around to ask her if there’s something she doesn’t like or if there’s something she is allergic to and Y/N guesses that they are pretty happy that she could literally eat anything. She grew up not having too much food around so food in general gets her excited and she loves to try new things.

When the maid sets their entrees in front of them, Dean’s hand leaves her thigh, and she doesn't even notice that he’s been touching her the whole time. Is it weird that it felt natural to her? Somehow, she has the feeling that it doesn’t seem that he noticed it either because Dean just pulls his hand from her thigh and starts to dig into his food like it’s no big deal.

Maybe it isn’t. Maybe, she thinks, he really enjoys touching her to feel close to her and that’s a good start, right? At least he doesn’t look as troubled as he usually is around her.

It’s chicken truffles terrine on a salad bouquet and god, the terrine melts on her tongue and there’s an explosion of tastes going on in her mouth. 

She hums her approval after the first bite, which prompts Mr. Winchester Sr. to smirk at her. 

The conversation is kept light during the first course, maybe Dean nor his father wanting to spoil their appetite. And she keeps herself mum, too afraid she would start to bubble nonsense because she’s still so damn nervous.

“Sauntéed Dover with Almond and Soy-Lime emulsion,” The maid said as she brought out the main course and honestly, Y/N doesn’t understand any of it but hell, if it’s as good as the entrée, they should keep bridging them out.

Before she could dig her fork into the glorious fish, though, John Winchester clears his throat to speak. 

“So, Y/N, I heard you are working in our company?”

Her heart starts to race and there’s that sweaty hand again. 

She pulls herself together and looks at Mr. Winchester Sr. tries to meet his eyes because she doesn’t want to seem like she’s incapable of answering a damn simple question. 

“Sir, yes. In fact, I met Dean there,”

The fact that she held his eye contact works, because John nods, before he takes the fork and digs into his meal. The relief she feels when John doesn’t ask more questions is vast. 

She takes a bite of the fish herself and it falls apart as soon as the fork touches it. Her mouth starts to water before she pushes the forkful of fish into her mouth and she isn’t disappointed because god, that explosion of taste is back and the fish melts on her tongue. 

Humming out loud, she closes her eyes, savoring the fish and the taste of the soy-lime sauce. 

Dean chuckles next to her when he hears it, and his hand is back on her thigh, squeezing it in what she hopes is approval. 

When she opens her eyes, she sees John watching them, but there’s a smirk on the older man’s lips. 

“It’s good to see a woman with an appetite,” He says.

“I’m sorry,” Her face feels flush, “I just get very excited about good food,”

Dean’s hand squeezes her thigh again, as if he wants to say that it’s okay. 

His father is watching them, though. She realizes as she looks back to the old man and he still hasn’t budged. That’s when she knows that he’s watching if they are real. 

Y/N leans closer to Dean, lets her hand trail up his muscled back, her fingers threading through the short hair at the nape of his neck and the color in Dean’s cheek rises up. His ears are tinted pink. She clearly affects him. She just doesn’t know if it’s good or bad. 

Before she can move closer, Dean almost winds himself out of her grip, and his hand that’s on her thigh goes behind him, plukes her hand away from his neck to hold it in his palm. 

“Are you okay?” She whispers, doesn’t want to be too loud, even though his father has seen everything already. Clearly, he’s not okay, but she just doesn’t know what it is. Does her touching him hurt him so much? Why do they keep doing it then? 

Dean catches himself, places a kiss on the back of her hand before he moves closer to kiss her cheek. He stops short, to whisper in her ear, “No, I think I’m in trouble,”

His lips lingering close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine. What does he mean he’s in trouble? How? What? 

Before she can wrap her head around what Dean just said, John clears his throat to speak.

“Y/N, what do you think about my son’s prenup?”

If John thinks he caught her by surprise, he really did. 

“Uh,” She starts to say, stammers as her mouth tries to form words. Of course, Dean Winchester would have a prenup. Sam mentioned that Carmen was ready to sign that thing. It’s not a secret that wealthy men have prenups, right? 

“He hadn’t shown you the prenup yet, did he?” John’s lips are crooked into a cocky grin. 

And it’s then that Dean turns to her and lays his hand back on her thigh, “I didn’t show it to you because we won’t have a prenup,” His voice is soft, gentle while his eyes are on her, as if he wants to make sure that she hears him. 

“You what?” Mr. Winchester Sr. asks loudly.

Dean’s eyes leave hers as he tilts his head back to meet his dad’s gaze. “I won’t have a prenup with her, Dad,” His voice is louder this time, firm, as if he is putting his foot down.

“Dean, I—,”

“—No, I know exactly what you want to say. Fact is, it’s my marriage, and my life. You have no say in this. I trust Y/N. We don’t need it and that’s my final word.” He’s even louder, getting all worked up and it’s her turn to lay her hand on his thigh to calm him down. 

He flinches at her touch, just a little, but she notices it nonetheless. And she gets a bit discouraged. Why does he bother holding a speech with not getting a prenup when he flinches at her touches? She doesn’t fucking get it.

John Winchester stands up abruptly and buttons up his suit jacket, “Well, it was nice, but I have another dinner meeting to attend,” He says as he nods to Dean and her, “Dean, I’ll see you at the event, and Y/N, it was nice meeting the woman who manages to enchant my son enough for him not being able to think straight.”

The man walks over to the door, stalls and looks back, “I will get Sam to talk some sense into you, and I hope next time I see you, you’ll have changed your mind.” He says, completely ignoring her presence.

“Wow,” She huffs out as soon as the apartment door shuts close. 

“Yeah,” Dean snorts, “That’s my father for you.”

She wonders if she should bring up the prenup, but decides against it. It’s not like they’re going to get married anyway, right? Surely, Dean’s legal team will be able to find a solution before they have to go that far and she certainly will not lose the bet they have running.

Returning to her meal, she forks the fish into her mouth, groans loudly this time because the old grumpy Mr. Winchester is gone and Dean sets his fork to the side and braces his elbow on the table. He turns his body a little, tilts his head and lays it on the hand of the arm that’s on the table as he continues to watch her eat with a grin on his face.

“You really like the fish, huh?”

“God,” She exclaims, “The food here is excellent,” 

“I’ll pass your compliment to the chef,” 

“I hope me gaining weight is not in the contract because I think there’s a big chance it will happen if I get fed delicious meals,” Y/N smiles at him with her mouth around the fork. 

“It isn’t,” Dean replies and it seems like he really enjoys her enthusiasm.

He hasn’t touched his food, but he’s waiting patiently for her to finish hers. As soon as she does, he gets up and holds out a hand for her to take, “C’mon, we’re taking the dessert in my study.”

“In your study?” 

“Yeah,” Dean grins as he leads her out, “I would have suggested having taken it on the terrace, but it’s too chilly and you’re barely wearing anything. The next best view in this penthouse is from the study window.”

He leads her inside and he’s not really wrong. Now that it’s dark out, the city below them is lit up by a million lights. 

“Is that why it’s your study? Because you spend your nights here often and you wanted a good view?”

Dean hasn’t turned on the light in the room, but there’s enough light coming in from the window that she can see his cheek turning pink, “Maybe,” He shrugs.

Thinking that it’s probably something he doesn’t want to talk about, she makes her way to the couch right by the window, takes off her shoes and curls her legs on the sofa. 

The maid comes in to bring them the dessert and a refill of her wine glass. It’s a really good wine, she can’t lie. It makes her feel woozy in the best kind of way and she can’t stop wanting more, even if her head’s already swimming a little. 

Y/N looks back to see Dean pouring himself a couple of fingers of whiskey before he takes off his suit jacket. He didn’t bother wearing a tie to the dinner. He opens up another button, and it makes him look more relaxed. He sets his glass on to the tray and balances the items over to set it down on the little table next to the couch.

He hands her the plate with what she assumes is something chocolatey. 

Digging her silver spoon into it, she takes a bite, hums and groans as the flavor hits her taste buds. It’s dark chocolate, which normally she doesn’t really like that much, but it’s spiked with something she can’t put her finger on but it’s fucking delicious. 

“Oh my god,” She moans, “It’s so good,”

“I can tell,” He chuckles as he watches her eat.

“Wait,” She pauses her devouring and raises her eyebrows at him. Dean’s only been holding his tumbler and a glance over to the tray, she can see that there isn’t any dessert on it for him, “You’re not having dessert?”

“Nah,” He says, “I’m not much of a dessert guy,”

“What?”

“Yeah,” He exhales, “I’m not much of a fancy dishes kinda guy anyway, but it’s hard if you grew up like that,”

“So, you’re telling me that you’d rather eat something simple than those magnificent dishes your chef creates?”

“Yep,”

“You’re weird,” 

“I know,” He chuckles, “But I’m glad you enjoy it. I’m sure the chef is delighted to have someone to cook for either,”

Y/N takes another spoonful, moaning and closing her eyes again and Dean shifts next to her. When she opens her eyes back up, he’s watching her with a smile on his face.

“Seriously, you’ve got to try this!” She digs into the mousse again and scoops up enough to hold it over to Dean. 

“Oh, no, I—,” He starts to say.

“Please? For me? You’ve got taste it,”

And she’s kind of pestering him, the spoon already brushing at his lips. 

“Come on,” She nudges the spoon to his lips, “I can’t be the only one to enjoy this tonight,” 

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs, but there’s a hint of a smirk playing along his lips, “Fine,” 

He opens his mouth and she pushes the spoon in. Dean's lips seal around the small silverware, and she pulls it out while his eyes are on hers. 

She feels flush, feels hot all of a sudden. It might have been more intimate than she thought it would be.

“And?” She asks and Dean nods his head.

“It’s good,”

“It’s good?” She frowns, “It’s fucking amazing!” 

He smiles.

 *

 After she devoured her dessert they stayed on the sofa and she emptied her glass of wine. And it’s not like she had planned it, but the wine makes her limbs feel heavy and her head light, and somehow, she ends up closer to Dean, laying her head on his shoulder.  

He lets her.

“You know, you did good tonight,” Dean says. She can feel his voice vibrating from his body. 

“Why thank you,” Y/N chuckles, “I’ll take that,”

“You should,” 

He nudges his shoulder up, making her lift her head and Dean takes the opportunity to drape his arm over the back of the couch so that it’ll be more comfortable for her. She doesn’t hesitate to curl herself into his side. She’s overly clingy when she drinks and she hopes he doesn’t mind.

While she looks out of the window, the lights blend into each other. 

“You know, I was wondering,” She starts to say and she doesn’t even know why she says it. It must be the wine speaking, “Have you ever had sex against the window in the dark?”

She can feel his body stiffen significantly. Dean inhales before he lets out an exhale with a chuckle, “How many glasses of wine did you have?”

“Eh, not much,”

“It seems to me like you’re a little tipsy,”

“Ugh, I am not,”

That’s a lie. She’s definitely tipsy. Maybe bordering on being drunk. She’s such a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, it’s a little embarrassing. 

“Right,” He’s still chuckling, “Thank you, by the way,”

Ah, he’s trying to steer the conversation away from the sex. She’s a little disappointed but well, if he doesn’t want to talk about something that’s fine. So, instead of pestering him, she asks, “Thank you for what?”

“For playing it so well. I really believed you liked me.” 

“Dean,” She pauses to look up at him, “I do like you.” 

“Yeah?”

Y/N lays her head back on his chest, “Yeah, you’re not a bad man, Dean. You certainly went out of your way to make it comfortable for my little family.”

“It’s the least I could have done considering you guys are giving up your life to help me out,”

“That counts as something in my book. And you know what?”

“What?”

She chuckles, “You’re funny,”

“I am?”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re even trying to be but you are. The way you’re always grumpy, it’s kind of funny, to be honest,”

“Hey,” He protests, but he’s chuckling himself. 

“I like spending time with you,” 

“That’s good because I like spending time with you, too,” He says and his hand comes down from the edge of the couch to stroke along her arm. 

They stay like that for a while, both of them staring out the window wordlessly. She enjoys the silence with him, and she desperately tries not to think about him pressing her against the window and fucking her to the backdrop of the city lights. Nope. Totally not on her mind.

It’s when she feels her eyelids getting heavy that she pushes herself away from Dean and maybe she just imagines it, but there’s a subtle whine that comes out of this throat. He catches himself pretty quickly, though. 

“I’m going to bed,” Y/N says and stands up, feels his eyes on her when she rights her dress, “Unless you need me to be your fake fiancée longer,”

Dean smiles as he shakes his head, “No, I’m alright. Have a good night, Y/N. Sam will send you your schedule over,”

“‘K,” She nods, “Good night, Dean,”

 *

 Before she goes into her room, she checks in on Liv, sees the girl sleeping soundly. With a smile, she closes the door to her daughter’s room and makes her way to her own. 

There, she strips off her dress and gets herself ready for bed.

While she lays in bed, though, she can’t help but think about her weird day. If she’d tell Donna, the woman would think that she’s having a fever dream. 

Oh god, Donna.

Y/N grabs at her phone on the nightstand, looks at it for the first time after she has ditched it to go to dinner with Dean’s dad. 

There have been missed calls and texts from Donna, asking her when she’d be back or if she has been fired already because Y/N didn’t return.

Quickly she types in a message, maybe Donna’s asleep already anyway. 

 Y/N: You won’t believe what happened

Donna: OH THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE

Y/N: Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

Donna: I was worried out of my mind

Y/N: What happened after I made my way to the top floor?

Donna: Oh god, you should have seen Raphael. He had to pack his things right away, but he was screaming and thrashing around, refusing to leave so they had to bring in security and had him thrown out of the building.

Y/N: Wow

 Wow, indeed. Dean really fired him. On the fucking spot.

 Donna: The big boss believed you, right?

 She has to chuckle as she types in her next reply.

 Y/N: Well, he has to because I’m his fiancée. He proposed to me in his office.

 It’s a lie, but she has to keep up the illusion, doesn’t she? It’s best if Donna knows it, but only so much to feed into the illusion. She guesses she can explain it later when this will all be over. 

 Donna: WHAT THE FUCK 

Donna: WHAT HAPPENED OH MY GOD TELL ME EVERYTHING

 She can’t help but laugh. 

 Y/N: I’m pretty tired, but let’s just say, I’ll let you know as soon as I can alright? Thought you’d like to know that Dean and I are an item now and that you’ll probably see my face in those glamour magazines.

Donna: FUCK I’M SO JEALOUS

Y/N: Right, I gotta get some shut eye, I’ll be in contact, Donna. Love you

Donna: I love you too, Y/N, even though I’m fucking jealous.

 Still laughing, she places her phone back on the nightstand and curls herself into the soft pillows and comforter and it’s not long before she drifts into sleep.

Ch. 08

A/N: Thank you for reading until now. Your comments make my day. Buckle your seatsbelts. From now on it’s going to be a whirlwind of events and feelings! Hint: We’ll see Dean and Liv’s interaction in the next chapter!

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[angelkurenai]

Caution. Slippery when wet. - Sebastian Stan x Reader

Title:  Caution. Slippery when wet.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: Some language, Sexual tension, Dirty stuff (we all get it)

Summary: Imagine promoting your newest movie with your costar and friend, Sebastian Stan, and reading thirst tweets. Only resulting in more flirting, teasing and sexual tension too much for you to handle.

“Hello everyone, I am Sebastian Stan.” Sebastian spoke once you got the green light to start.

“And I am (Y/n) (Y/l/n).” you added when he paused for a second to look at you.

“And we're here to read some of your-” he looked at the bucket he was holding in his hand and you did the same with yours “Thirst tweets. Cause let's face it, how bad can it get?”

“You really are so unaware of the dangers that it's almost cute. I can't wait for you to get the shock of your life, dear, cause twitter doesn't hold back. Trust me.” you chuckled, enjoying the look of weariness and suspicion that Sebastian gave you before you turned to face the camera “But let's make something clear, before we start. He is here to read thirst tweets, I'm here to read some thirst tweets and make sure my side account has not been discovered.”

“I-” Sebastian started but paused again, eyes narrowing slightly at you “I want to ask but at the same time I think I don't... Am I somehow involved in all of it?”

“When are you not, Sebby?” you smirked at him, winking in a way that earned a laugh from the man. Taking a second or two to admire the way he hang his head low and laughed softly to himself you turned to the camera “But let's get started cause I see we both have plenty of this! I'll go first, since I've had years of preparing for this moment.”

“Wait- preparing for yours or mine?” he raised an eyebrow.

“No further information must be given until I've got my lawyer here or until the game's over. Too much is at stake.” you shrugged innocently “So here we go-” you pulled out a piece of paper from your bucket first and read it out loud “I mean, not to objectify, but (Y/n) (Y/l/n) in her new Endgame suit left me pregnant. And I'm a guy.” the second you read the whole tweet, both you and Sebastian couldn't help but burst into laughter.

“The movie must come with a warning first now huh?” he shook his head with a laugh as he pulled a paper out as well “Though I definitely agree with that guy, you looked amazing.” he made sure to point out, looking at you as you were still giggling before focusing his eyes on the paper once more “Alright, here I go: Man, Sebastian Stan could run me over with a truck and I'd still... suck that dick?” he trailed off a bit and the last part came out as a question. He paused, blinking as he looked at the camera with a tilt of his head and you could hardly stifle your laughter, mostly at his reaction.

“Alright, that's-” he paused, looking down at the paper again just to make sure before shaking his head and saying with wide eyes “Wow. I uh... thanks, I guess?”

“You know-” you tried to calm yourself down “You know what's even more weird?” you asked.

He frowned and looked at you “No, and I'm not sure I wanna know either. But you're gonna tell me either way so, go ahead and make it worse. Though I doubt how easy it'll be to top this off.”

“Is that the order it would happen in?” you said and looked back at the camera “Because, man, it concerns me. It's 2020 and a zombie apocalypse is not far from possible right now.”

“Alright-” Sebastian huffed “It did get wore, yes. Seriously, the image I got is even more disturbing now.” he closed his eyes, lips pursed as he shoo his head.

“Oh honey.” you said sweetly, placing a hand on your friend's shoulder “And this is just the beginning.” you chuckled when he groaned more.

However, you could see a playfulness in his eyes, and the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips that gave away his whole act. So after giving him a small squeeze with your hand, you pulled away – completely trying your hardest to ignore the way you missed the warmth of the contact and convince yourself that it was nothing. You were becoming better at it lately as it seemed.

Convincing yourself of things that weren't true, such as you being only friends, such as you not longing for his touch or smile directed at you, such as him probably seeing you as family and no other way (no way which your heart longed for), had started being much easier with time. It was easier, and it certainly hurt less, to flirt and be playful with him, to touch him casually and to give (and receive) easy smiles and looks that you labeled as your thing, as part of your friendship, both to him and the rest of the world, and nothing more. With no more or any real meaning behind all of it. And he went along with it so there was no reason to even think of this as more than just a game, the way your friendship worked, even if your heart did crazy leaps each time his hands lingered or the way he looked at you had something about it.

You cleared your throat “Alright, let's get back to the game-” you tried to suppress a shudder when you felt his hand on your neck and his thumb rubbing soft circles, after all it wasn't the first time, as he leaned a bit over your shoulder to look down at the paper as well “(Y/n) (Y/l/n) could walk up to me and punch me in my face for no reason and I'd honestly apologize. Oooh no, no I wouldn't do that to you. I'm- I'm more of a tender and sweet lover, though of course it also depends on the guy I'm with.”

“Would you be tender with me?” Sebastian asked, small smirk on his lips but not as playful as... curious perhaps; the thumb on your back continued to bring pleasant shivers down your spine.

You managed a small, easy laugh before shrugging innocently “You'll have to take me out on a date first, Seb, and then you'll see for yourself.”

“Good thing I am free later then.” he shrugged, his smile too sweet for you to not reciprocate before his hand gave your shoulder a squeeze as well “Now, my turn-” he cleared his throat as he pulled a paper and frowned at it “I want Sebastian Stan to take my ass and fold my entire body inside out.” he paused for a second or two, an absolute silence setting on the room where Sebastian was looking at the camera with a straight face, you doing your best to keep yourself from laughing because of said expression “That-” he too a deep steady breath “Wouldn't be good for your health. You know that right?”

“It's something I did not want to picture is possible. That's what it is.” you chuckled, fishing for a tweet of your own “Wow your fans are on a roll, Sebastian.” you chuckled when he gave you a look as well “Ok, uhm Alright but (Y/n (Y/l/n) not finding her seat on that interview made me think like: 'Ma'am please use my face.' Wow now that's- that's the kind of tweets I had in mind. See, me not finding my seat on that interview had kind of became a meme and I'd laugh at it but this- this does give the whole situation a new kind of meaning.”

“Hold up a sec-” Sebastian spoke up, eyes narrowed “Is this person implying-”

“Because yes, I'd let her sit on my face.” you read the last part in addition “Not implying, he's stating it.” you shrugged slightly, chuckling a bit at how ridiculous and yet amusing this was. At first you thought it would get awkward with your crush sitting right next to you but right now you were beginning to think it was entertaining.

“I-” Sebastian pausing, eyes narrowing and jaw clenching in that way that distracted you for a couple seconds, before he turned to the camera “Is there a way to find someone's address through their tweets?”

“Pretty sure it could be possible yes.” his manager, who was also there behind the camera, shrugged.

“Oh my, don't encourage this!” you exclaimed, despite how adorable he looked grumpy and dare you think... jealous? Maybe, hopefully “It's just a tweet. Just read the next one, will you please?”

The man next to you huffed, eyes carefully following your motions as you placed the paper away – as if planning to snatch it later – before focusing back on his own “Alright, these are like in a list, one below the other but I'll just read it as I see it [someone mentions Sebastian Stan] Me: Caution. Slippery when wet.” another pause only because-

“Oh my- Yes!” you nearly exclaimed with a laugh “Yes, that's how it feels like! Wait, for a second there I sounded like Loki but-” you grinned, shrugging “I mean, it's true. Like, seriously- Same! And just imagine seeing him naked from up close, oh girl that's what I called a good morning.”

“Wait-” he looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you shrugged once more innocently, maybe a little too innocently to the point he could see you didn't mean it “What?”

“Long story which I will probably share first with the fans and then with you.” you winked and this time he narrowed his eyes playfully but you ignored it, or at least tried to “Is it just me or does seeing (Y/n) use that lasso in Infinity War make you think: 'Yes ma'am, tie me up and have your way with me' Is that a kink now? Cause it should be. I'm... flattered that me and the lasso of truth could do that? I don't know what to say, honestly.” you laughed, shaking your head and feeling the heat rise up in your cheeks.

“This is the same guy from before, isn't it?” Sebastian asked, nobody in particular, as he looked around at the cameras and crew “I just know it, you can't tell me otherwise. But-” he let a small breath, a smile on his lips that wasn't all that sweet and you knew that if the person that had written the tweet was standing there he would be dead just from the look on Sebastian's face “FYI: It's not as fun as you think my friend, it gets uncomfortable and the lasso is made out of a thick rope that leaves marks which last for uhm about four to five days. The makeup department didn't like that but luckily I wear mostly long-sleeved shirts and jackets so it's fine. Anyway, just sharing my personal experience on the matter seeing as you sadly won't ever get to live that dream out yourself.”

His shrug was anything but innocent to you and with a smile, not very open, but certainly far too smug for anyone to miss. You didn't want your heart to but that too was included, and it gave a skip in its beat when it felt the spark of hope within your chest. All you did was play coy and raise an eyebrow “What?”

“What?” Sebastian asked back casually and you blinked several times before he winked at you and turned back to looking through his bucket with a small smirk on his lips “My turn, let's see: Sebastian Stan is so lucky. He gets to touch Sebastian Stan's dick any time he wants. You guys are seriously-You're on a roll!” this time you both couldn't help your laughter, to the point you were wiping tears off your eyes.

“Man-” you sighed a little, a smile still on your lips as you both tried to calm down; but playing along with it you looked down at Sebastian and the up to his eyes, saying “Aren't you lucky Seb!” you nodded your head with a wishful look and it soon had you both erupting into a new feat of laughter.

“Well-” he tried to stay serious but his laughter gave it all away; he looked at the camera “See, it comes with the perks of being born in this body. And (Y/n) (Y/l/n) is the only one who gets a free pass on that, so I'm sorry you can't but uhm yeah, that's life.”

“I'm really really tempted to ask about that, and even more tempted to try it but-” you cleared your throat, pulling out a paper yourself and tried to focus “Heard (Y/n) (Y/l/n) has been doing some extra training lately for her new movie but she thinks none of it real fun. Why don't she use my-” you paused for a second there, trying to get the words out in between your laughter “Why don't she use my dick as a trampoline. 100% fun assured.” you didn't even know if your words were fully clear but you couldn't control it “Wow this I was probably not prepared for. Though I once came across a guy's tweet that went like 'Hey, (Y/n), if you're looking for a ride, zipper of my jeans is 24/7 open.' or something like that. This is a bit more creative I'll give them that.” you laughed a bit more when both of Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise; you cleared your throat before continuing “I mean, I'll admit I like trampoline. Oh no, not that kind- Although, that kind is absolutely fine and fun and all too, but you kno-”

“Oh my goodness please stop. This-” he sighed, looking back at the camera “I had pictured many outcomes but this? This tops it all off easily.”

“Come on, you came here to read thirst tweets. Is me saying I'm good at trampoline or if you want a demonstration I'm always available, that off the realm of possible outcomes?” you asked, laughing wholeheartedly when his eyes widened and maybe taking a bit of extra pleasure in seeing the red color rise in his cheeks.

“That last one is not that bad.” he shrugged “Alright, I've got one last tweet let's see what twitter has to say about my- Oh it's not about it, alright.” he nodded his head “Someone: says something. Me: Yeah but have you seen Sebastian Stan's ass? I mean-”

“Hold up.” you spoke up before he could continue “Can you please get up?” you asked sweetly and he raised a curious eyebrow but he still got up. Without shame you took a good look at his ass before speaking “Alright, you can sit. See, every time someone mentions art, I must spend a couple seconds in silence admiring it.” you shrugged innocently, this time even members of the crew laughing apart from Sebastian himself “Everyone keeps mentioning America's ass and I'm like ok, it's fine, but have you seen this guy's? Work. Of. Art. I tell you.”

“Thank you, thank you! Finally someone said it, I mean-” Sebastian tried to hold back his laughter and shake his head with a heavy sigh “Everyone keeps talking about America's ass and while I do agree, it's hard to compete with that one, I'm equally sad nobody will give mine some love and attention!”

“I'll give it all the love it deserves, don't worry. People are just sleeping on it because oh if only you guys looked at it a bit more you would know just how good that ass looks with and without clothes!”

“Hey, yeah, you keep mentioning the naked part and I almost forgot-” he sounded actually surious as he turned to look at you “When did that happen?”

“When?” you blinked “Is that seriously what you're asking me? When?” you giggled and he grinned.

“Hey I'm just wondering in case I missed out on the best moment of my life or something. Besides-” he shrugged “I walk around my trail naked all the time on purpose and in hopes that you will just walk in at some point. I was hoping that when it happened we were more face to face than face to back, you know? Though I'm glad you appreciate the back view as well.” he was saying it as if it was the most casual thing in the world, and just because you knew him so well you had a hard time thinking it could only be a joke, unlike the rest of the people in the room who couldn't control their laughter.

“Yeah, I have a terrible habit of never knocking when I walk into a friend's place. Terrible indeed.”

“Eh depends on who you're asking.” Sebastian shrugged once more, smirking “I find it lovely.”

“Of course you would.” you muttered feeling your own face heat up “But for the sake of everyone in here, and to be able to give them a break from all these laughter, I think a slight change of topic would be nice. And I can happily say I am out of tweets to read. What about you?”

“Thankfully, for the both of us, yes I am done. Though it does beg the question-” he looked at you with a smirk “Did they discover your secret account about me?”

“No, no and it's a good thing. Because really, we wouldn't want everyone to know about all the spicy details concerning your front and rare view, as you call it.” you grinned “And, before you ask how, I'll tell you that's not a topic I'll talk about that easily. I will need the proper motivation to, first.” you giggled when he raised an interested eyebrow “All jokes aside, it's probably a really old account that I think I used when I was simply a fan and not an actress or part of the MCU and I didn't really use it to begin with.”

“That still doesn't mean I'm still not intrigued to find it myself.” Sebastian pointed out and you gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“You say they didn't discover your account but didn't say any of the tweets weren't yours, too.” it was barely half a second later, and in between Sebastian's laughter, but you heard the words crystal clear coming from your manager and you glared daggers at her.

“Oh my-” Sebastian's eyes widened “(Y/n)... is any of these tweets from your old account? Is there some dirty little secret in one of these that belongs in your past?”

“You know what belongs in my past? My manager and our friendship, that's what.” you gave her a look as she laughed before you shook your head “That's a question I refuse to answer.”

“You say that as if I am ever going to give up trying to get it out of you. And don't worry I have my ways, I can be pretty persuasive.”

.

..

...

“Just check your twitter people for more info on Sebastian's front view then!”

~~~

A/N: As always, love making interview fics, especially ones packed with flirting or innuendos so I am really happy to give you one again after so long! Would love to hear your opinion on it and even more if you’d like a continuation or another fic of the same kind, thirst fics of course, with another actor lemme know!

@stuckysavedmylive @reborn-rekall @littlemessyjessi @shesnotmaria​ @thatdreamingdrey​ @theblackmists​ @lokilove3112​ @missionfoul​ @mariana-costa​ @random-sky-color @ramennoodles-dean-cas​ @husherstan​ @banjosanjo​ @fuckwby​ @plaidstiel-wormstache​ @vvipgot7be​ @wintersoldierslut​ @thevelvetseries​

[gummygowon]

regretful jellyfish | jeong yunho

word count: 1.3k

genre: angst, tiny bit of fluff, best friend yunho x fem. reader

best friends au!

warnings: kind of cheating? (if there's more pls let me know)

song recommendation: restless by bibi & cigarette by offonoff

a/n: this is inspired by my friends and because we can't go to prom this year :(

highschool prom, the one school event you’ve been looking towards to ever since you watched high musical 3. this year's prom theme was something that you were surprisingly looking forward to which was 'under the sea' and located at the city's aquarium. a night of dancing next to fish and sharks with your friends and prom date was something even more than middle school you ever dreamed of.

so far everything has been according to plan, your hair looked gorgeous and your outfit and makeup looked absolutely stunning. and to make things even better, you got asked out by your long time crush, jeong jaehyun. you’ve been crushing on that dude since sophomore year and now in your senior year you finally have a chance to be more than just friends.

yeah, you’ve heard all of the warnings from your friends telling you not to fall for such a playboy but you couldn’t help yourself and his damn smile didn’t help either. so when jaehyun asked you out with a poster and flowers, you almost died from shock right on the spot.

however, your best friend yunho, was the complete opposite of shock. he was more disgusted or maybe even jealous that jaehyun was the one asking you out. yunho heard all the dirty things he did with girls and how he was douchebag to almost everyone which is what made him wary of your friendship with the latter. it also didn’t help that yunho also had feelings for you but he was too much of coward to ever confess. but yunho was only your best friend. best friend...

so if jaehyun made you happy then he would have to bury his feelings even further. sure, it upset him but jaehyun had balls to ask you out which he didn’t have and now the lucky bastard got the girl.

unfortunately, you really should’ve listened to your friends because as soon you guys walked into prom together, jaehyun was already flirting with another girl. you didn’t even bother trying to wrangle him back to you. once he was with a girl, there was no way of getting him back.

with the night already off to a shitty start, you wandered away from the crowd and ventured deeper into the aquarium. you reached the dead end of one of the 'hall of fishes' exhibit which was a big circled room with never ending glass walls full of different marine species swimming inside.

you leaned against the railing, zoning out. how could you be so stupid? there was no way you could have changed him. once a fuck boy always a fuck boy, you idiot.

tears began forming in your eyes the more you thought about the situation. you couldn't cry over some bitch boy. he wasn't worth it. no matter how many hours you spent blushing over him, he wasn't worth it. more thoughts came into your mind like a dumb animal walking into a trap. thoughts that reminded you how dumb you were, pushing you closer and closer to actually crying.

that is until you heard someone enter the room, you sniffled quietly and brought a finger to your eyes, catching any water droplets.

"did you know that jellyfish don't have a brain?" a familiar voice asked.

a smile appeared on your face for the first time this night, "didn't i tell you that?"

ever since your school revealed the theme for prom and venue, you've been spewing out random ocean facts to yunho in pure excitement.

"yeah, you also told me that sharks the only fish to have eyelids." yunho added on, a grin on his face too.

"so you were paying attention to me." you teased as you bumped his arm with your shoulder.

"of course i did, when do i not?"

you laughed at his response before returning your gaze back to the jellyfish swimming around. you weren't sure if yunho knew what happened with jaehyun but he probably found out somehow. he always did.

"why aren't you with your date? the slow dance is coming up soon and i know you've been waiting for it." your best friend asked, he didn't know why he was trying so hard to make sure you and jaehyun worked out or at least for the night. he just wanted you to be happy. to be happy with the guy that you've been crushing on for years. to have this night feel like a dream.

"he left me." you answer bluntly, before turning your gaze back to yunho. guess he didn't know.

"oh. i'm so sor-"

"don't even bother," you wave your hand in the air, shooing away the apology. "i should've listened to you guys anyways."

yunho stood there in silence, staring at a particular blue tang, not knowing what to say. he couldn't just confess right now, that would be inappropriate and selfish of him. usually, he was good at comforting his friends but comforting his crush after they got rejected by the guy they've been pinning after for years was something he didn't know how to do.

"you can go back, the slow dance must be starting soon." you said after breaking the silence. "i don't wanna ruin your night too."

yunho's heart was beating faster as his mind was violently urging him to ask you to dance or just say something. "it's okay, i don't wanna leave you alone."

you were about to argue for him to go back but you decided against it and smiled back instead, looking back at the fish swimming back and forth with the kelp swaying in the back.

the two of you were in a peaceful silence, looking at the aquatic animals thinking different things.

your mind was yelling at you for being a dumbass and believing that you would be the one to change a fuck boy's mind while yunho's was yelling at him for being a coward.

if he just confessed to you before jaehyun ever came into the picture, you wouldn't be here on the brink of tears on the one event you've been waiting for since you were seven. you guys could be slow dancing together, problem-free and regret-free.

from the distance, you guys could hear the dj's loud voice drift into the room, "ladies and gents, gather your partners because it's time to slow it down!" loud ooo's and cheers joined in right after.

"may, i have this dance m'lady?" yunho asks with his heart beating out of his chest and cheeks flushing a faint red.

a bright smile appears on your face as you take his hand, "of course, sir."

as soon yunho brought you closer to him, you realize how much he's been there for you ever since you guys became friends. memories flooded your head, almost bringing you tears of happiness. you pulled yunho even closer to your body, burying your head into his neck while his arms wrapped around your waist tighter.

slowly but gracefully, you guys swayed to the distant slow song with thoughts full of regret. regret about not confessing sooner and regret about not listening to your friends.

the longer you danced, the more you thought about how much your best friend was the better option. in a way, it made you feel selfish for thinking of yunho as just a choice leading you to thinking that he deserved a better partner than you. someone who could cherish him from the start and all the way to the very end.

yunho, on the other hand wanted this moment to last forever. slow dancing in the dark with his crush, as he held onto you like you were the only thing that matter. if he couldn't have you like this for himself, then he would have to make sure moments like these lasted. sure, it was a little self-centered of him but this was the price had to pay for waiting.

the price of waiting: a dance with the girl he wants but she had her heart set on someone else.

and the price of this dance with this boy: the girl realizes she's been in love with him this whole time.

[moondustis]

on the way (m)

pairing: seo johnny + reader genre: angst, smut | word count: 10k summary:  “There’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.” or A love story told in 5 acts.

a/n: hello! yes, finally a new fic and yes it is college!au with a hint of fwb. i have been writing this for around 4 months now and i haven’t read some parts in awhile so it’s probably all around the place. if something doesn’t make a lot of sense, well... it is what it is lol. but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it! 

act 1: messy affairs 

See, there’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.

It’s a friday night, just like any other that happens after a mixture of weekly stress and the weird need to let it all out. It’s common, routine even, how you apply your makeup, pick your best outfit and scroll mindlessly through tinder in wait for your friends to arrive for a pre-game. It's common but not that usual, at least not until recently. 

Your last year of college had brought a lot of feelings that you didn't think you were ready to deal with yet. A nostalgia that arrived too soon, when you would catch yourself thinking that a moment shared with roommates would be the last one. An uncertainty of the future and a constant stress between writing a thesis that somehow is supposed to summarize the entirety of the knowledge you had gotten in the last year. 

And lastly, the reason why you're doing this: the unwavering fear that your life is just about to start. The same feeling you got when college just started, of freedom and new beginnings. But now, instead of the excitement and thrill, it's replaced by anxiety and the heavy weight of adulthood about to start.  That's why you look into the mirror, again, applying your lip gloss with the screen of your phone still illuminated by a picture of a person just waiting to be swiped left or right. You just need to have fun, like you never will again. 

It's that a too harsh way to start this? Well, back to Seo Johnny. 

It's a friday night and your friends arrive, flavored vodka in hand, the cheap kind that tastes like it's not alcoholic at all. A shot for each and then you are all laughing and joking to pass time. 

"Why do we have to pre game? I'm sure there will be plenty to drink." Sarah, a blonde girl with friendly cheeks asks. She tips the shot on her hand back anyway, despite the question. 

"Hell no I'm not going to drink frat booze again, they are cheap." Ela, tall and smart and majoring is Social Politics, says. 

You hum and Sarah asks "And we are not?"

"No, we have our dear friend making us drinks." Ela gestures wildly at Nicole, the bartender of the night who's wearing a dress that only battles your own in the matters of shortness. "We are fancy."

"She's mixing vodka with sprite." These statements make you laugh loudly. 

Tinder is just a distraction as you all sit on the couch, a good way to find an easy date for the night and when the he in question shows up, a black and white picture on the illuminated screen of your phone, it earns a shriek from your friends that go on and on about how hot he looks. 

"You should swipe right." Ela says, eyebrows dancing but you don't see it because you're busy rolling your eyes at your phone. Johnny stares at you. 

"He's my friend." You say as if it's obvious but it's really not. The word friend feels a little weird in your mouth but how else could you describe it? College was good for you in the social aspect, you have a lot of friends, people you talk to in class, or that you meet at parties because you ran in the same circles. It usually doesn't go deeper than that, than a blunt shared or a joke about a teacher, but that's friendship anyway you conclude.

And Johnny , well, he was someone you knew, not well, but sometimes he would text you a joke that made you laugh, ask for help with an assignment, talk to you about anything during a party. He was fun, a friend, and an acquaintance. Whatever, that didn't matter and honestly neither did the way you met, through a mutual friend at a kickback. It was that and nothing more. 

"Please, he flirts with you every chance he gets." Ela rolls her eyes right back at you. 

"He flirts with anyone, I think." You argue, because it's true. Johnny is one of those people that just have this aura to them, that can make anyone interested with just a few words. He's naturally flirty, that's something easy to point out. 

"Well he's hot." That too. 

"True." Nicole says and it earns a deep sigh from you.

Acting on impulse or peer pressure, you don't know exactly, but you swipe right and then nothing happens. So you shrug and throw your phone away to down another shot. 

✿

When you get to the party, it's already absolutely trashed, with freshmen spilling their drinks on the floor as some annoying EDM song blasts loud enough that you’re not very sure the thin windows of this house can handle. Frat parties were always the same, mildly boring and filled with people that didn't know how to act. It often escaped you the reasons why you continued to attend them. 

You and your friends dance a little, laughing when the songs change to one that is even worse than the first one. Ela, despite her words from earlier, finds a bottle of vodka and proclaims loudly that a night can never end badly when it starts with shots, a statement you strongly disagree with but you down it anyway when she offers it and then another one just for good measure. Because it’s a friday, you deserve a little fun, right? Right.

Too tired of dancing you had found a place on a couch that was probably too old. Johnny finds you there when the shots just start to hit and you feel bubbly, like you're on a cloud. 

"Hey there." He says with a blinding smile and if you weren't out of it you'd probably find it weird that he came to you, because most of the time you talked at parties was because you somehow ended up bumping into each other. 

"Hi." You reply, elongating the word more than necessary and it seems to amuse him. 

"Why are you sitting here by yourself?" He asks.

"Don't feel like dancing anymore." You say shrugging. "And what are you doing here sitting with me?" 

You watch as he laughs slowly and fishes for his phone in his pocket. "See, I wanted to show you something." 

It’s endearing, really, even more when his hand starts to wander, fingers barely ghosting your skin as he keeps his gaze glued to your face. 

He kisses you deeply, head tilted to the side as he holds you close with both hands on your cheeks and you can’t do anything but let him take control. Is when he sucks on your bottom lip that you have to let out the moan you had been holding, embarrassingly too soon and only urging him on even more as he licks at your lips, asking for entrance that you so gladly give, letting his tongue slide against yours slowly. The feeling of his hands moving to your leg makes your head spin and want for more.

He kisses the breath out of you, quite literally, and you both have to part to catch it back with silly smiles, gasps of air and pecks still being pressed on your lips. 

In your drunken haze, you smile when he rests his palm on your naked thigh, squeezing just slightly to test your interest. And you’re crazy, absolutely out of your mind because you show it by parting your legs just a little, just to tease, the smile never leaving your face as he mimics it with a subtle raise of his eyebrow. 

And god forgive you for being such a stupid horny girl that just falls gives in so easily, taking Johnny’s wandering hand in yours and dragging him to the closest place you can find, which happens to be someone's bedroom. How nice and polite of you. 

There’s not much beating around the bush. He pushes you into the bed, hovering over you and finally kisses you again, with hunger, hands on your neck and tongue sliding against yours in movements that are not shy from being desperate. And you love it, enough to have your mind swimming with the need to have him touch you anywhere that will make you feel good. 

When you grip at his hair a little too harshly, he lets out a moan that goes straight to the bubble of arousal on the pit of your stomach. He’s a sight, with puffy lips and hair a mess as he drops to his knees in front of you, something you weren’t exactly expecting but will definitely not complain about. 

He looks up at you, hands moving to rest at your thighs and oh, so gently parting them so he can fit in between. “Can I?” You almost die at the voice he asks for your consent in. 

You nod, head spinning a little when you move to help him get yours panties off, the offending cotton fabric being thrown somewhere inside this poor person's bedroom.

A couple of things happen afterwards. Johnny parts your legs further, placing a misplaced kiss on your inner thigh. Then he goes for it with a tentative lick, as if testing the waters and just slightly as if he’s a little unsure of himself. You blink slowly in expectation. 

“How do you like it?” The question makes you confused until you realize that he’s teasing you, a grin splattered across his face when you groan and try to move your hips but he keeps a grip on your legs. 

“Asshole.” You mutter in what sounds more like a whine. 

Which is a complete lie, because you’re already shivering in your skin and he knows that by the raise of his eyebrow in defiance. But still, your words spark something and he finally goes for it. 

The first press of his tongue flat against you has your hands moving to grip at the bed sheets. He works in a pace that clearly shows that he knows what he’s doing, swirling his tongue a little to tease and then licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit to gather the wetness there. 

He kisses your cunt the exact same way he did your lips, messily and desperate with the squelchy noises filling the room and setting your cheeks in heat from embarrassment. You don’t even need the long fingers he adds, slowly and then matching the pace of his sucks. 

It’s a very quick orgasm, in the sense that it doesn’t take you half the time you thought it would to happen. He does a little thing with his tongue, flicking your clit and you’re crying out with your body arching from the bed as he continues to eat you out as your body trembles. 

“Was I good?” He asks afterwards, words muffled because he’s still pressed against your bare center. He’s grinning, you can see it as well as the wetness that drips on his chin. 

You don't reply, instead you push him upwards and kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You can feel his erection press against your hip when he brings you closer and it makes you want more. 

He breaks the kiss then, palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb on the other side of your face as he keeps you looking at him. He likes being in control, you have realized that even in this short interaction, and you apparently liked giving it to him. 

You shiver when he brushes his thumb on your lips, getting them to part for him. “There you go, open your mouth.” He whispers, eyes glued to it. “Be good." 

Parting your lips, you lick at his thumb before you’re sucking it, earning a grunt from him that almost makes you smirk. You put on a show, trying to get him as worked up as you are, your eyes not leaving his face.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He mutters, pressing his thumb on your tongue and you moan a little over it. “You want my cock on your mouth?”

You nod, smiling as he removes his wet finger from your mouth. “Yes.” Your voice is breathless, eyes glassy as you stare at him.

That earns you a smile and you feel a little pride in your chest. “That’s a good girl.” He taps your face. “Get on your knees then, baby. If you want it so bad.”

You do, positioning yourself in the middle of his parted thighs when he sits down on the bed and your mouth almost waters from anticipation.

Lifting his shirt a bit, you start by pressing kisses to his navel and he lets out a deep breath. Reaching down to unbutton his pants, you help him pull them down alongside his boxers and the sight of him hard for you is what really makes your mouth water. He's big in a way that you're sure you won't be able to fit it all inside without putting in some work. 

You tease him just a little bit, placing just the small kiss at the tip before licking it slowly. He’s far less patient then you are, hand immediately moving to grip your hair. “Put it in, baby, don’t be bad for me now.”

Parting your lips, you put him in your mouth, going as far as you can go, wrapping your hand on what you can’t reach. He moans lowly, curses falling from his lips.

He lets his head fall back when you swirl your tongue around, bobbing your head slowly the way he likes. “That’s it, baby. Takin’ me so well.” You hum around him, earning yourself another moan.

You try to get him as far as you can, swallowing when you reach your limit and he grips your hair tighter. You can feel him pulsing inside your mouth and it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

He comes on your face, painting your cheeks and making you gasp a little in shock. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He mumbles, quick to search for something to clean you up with. 

"It 's okay." You say, throat feeling sore and you try not to think about how that was the first time that ever happened for too long. "I liked it." 

That makes him give you a look, and then he's saying with a laugh "You'll be the death of me." 

act 2: ungodly hour

Maybe the fact that nothing really changes should be a sign by itself. 

Johnny still nods to you when you pass by him around campus, and still asks you to ‘help a guy out’ by sending him pictures of your notes like you guys are nothing but good almost-friends. Because, well, that’s what you are and that’s good enough for you. 

His face stays there on your tinder matches, no acknowledgement of it beyond his stupid joke back at the party happens and the only reminder you have of that night is the insatiable thoughts that cross your mind in the middle of a boring lecture. Because why would you pay attention to whatever your teacher is saying when you could remind bit by bit of how Johnny fucked you on his tiny dorm room, while maintaining a resting face.

Weirdly those memories don't hit you the next time you see him, because you’re too busy thinking about strawberry milkshake. 

The line behind you is not even that big, considering it’s 3am and most drunk college kids prefer to go to the burger king, but the cashier has an annoyed look on his face as your friend slowly reads the menu as if there’s plenty to choose from at a place like Mcdonalds. “Hmm, we’ll have two large fries, a coke and...” 

“A strawberry milkshake!” You try to go for whispering but it comes out louder and the cashier just hums. 

There's just something about being slightly shit faced at this hour and at this place, that makes it all seem like it's not actually happening. Like you are in a dream that only gets better when the server calls your number and you are sipping on the milkshake you kept on talking about since leaving the club you went on.  

Funnily enough, if this was in fact in a dream, it wouldn't be the first time Johnny showed up on one of yours.

He's sitting in a booth by himself, scrolling at his phone. His hair is pushed back by a snapback and your mind twirls for a second with the thought that he looks too good for someone who's here in an hour like this. 

Maybe it's the remnants of alcohol still buzzing on your system. Or maybe it is the fact that you seem to have been losing your self consciousness more and more these days. Whatever it is, it leads you to the stand in front of Johnny with a smile on your face and your hand freezing from holding the milkshake.

It doesn't take long for him to notice you, a smile that makes you feel warm inside ready on his lips as you take a place right across from him like it was meant for you all this time. 

"Hey there." He says, voice playful and you wonder if he had a few drinks himself before coming here. He must have had. "What's up?" 

You shrug, a smile painting your own lips. "Nothing much." You say and for some reason you feel silly, in a way that makes you want to scream a little from excitement. Like a teenage girl with a crush.  "Strawberry milkshake. You want some?"

Johnny laughs a little when you offer him the cup with the slightly bitten straw. "No, thank you. But it looks good."

"It is." You smile with lips closed around it. 

For a moment, but not an uncomfortable one, you two just stare at each other. The sweet taste of your drinks fills your mind and makes you feel a little less dizzier. 

"Had fun night?" 

"Hmm, not really. Sorority parties suck." He nods in agreement. Most parties sucked anyway, that's why everyone had to get so wasted to be able to enjoy it while the high lasted. You liked feeling pretty after getting ready more than the whole rest of it.  "What were you up to?"

"Got to DJ at this party with Mark, it was nice." He says it like it was no big deal, like it was something he did every other day. You had never actually seen Johnny play before, but from the way his instagram page was filled with posts about it and links to soundcloud songs, anyone could figure out it was at least a bit important to him. 

You found it weird, that you didn't know much about this or anything else about Johnny besides what he would let you know. And vice versa. But at the same time it's nice getting to know it bit by bit, without a rush.  

"That's really cool." Your voice is a little more excited than you expected it to be. "I really wanna see you play someday." 

"Sure." He smiles sideways. Bashfulness doesn't really suit him. "I'll let you know the next time."

You nod, then you share a look. Someone screams at their friend about something you don't really care about because you're too busy watching Johnny as he watches you finish your milkshake. Is it chemistry that people call this? Because there is nothing very appealing about the drink you're having, or about the white light at this place, but there's tension in the way you can't really look away. 

He looks like he wants to laugh but is too scared to break whatever is happening. You finish your milkshake with one last swallow of artificial sweetener and lick your lips. He finally breaks. 

"Stop looking at me like that." He says it in a way that suggests something that it's already as clear as water. 

You bat your eyelashes. "Like what exactly?"

He laughs, sweet and deep, then raises one eyebrow in challenge. "Like you want me to fuck you in the middle of this mcdonalds."

The scandalousness of the statement makes you laugh too, your words sounding half joke half true between smiles. "Well, maybe I want to."

"You don't really strike me as the type." He says it like he's unsure of it, like in the back of his mind he could actually believe you would do something as shocking as that. Truth be told, you don't even know it yourself. There's not a lot you have done when it comes to this and sometimes you even think back to him coming on your face, like it is the wildest thing that has ever happened. 

"I could be." He raises his eyebrow again, this time not as a challenge but as genuine curiosity. You would like to know whether that is true or false as well. 

Deep down you know that there are not many things you wouldn't let a guy like Johnny do to you. 

He laughs, then pauses for a second and taps his fingers on the table as if looking for something to say. "You should let me take you out someday." Is what he decides on. 

For some reason you don't think much of that at the moment. "You gotta take someone out before fucking them in public place?" You continue the joke, earning a low laugh and a head shake. 

"I'm being serious." 

How serious can someone really be at 4am with some alcohol on their system. This time you are the one raising your eyebrows, in pure doubt. He doesn't seem like the type who dates girls they fucked at a party once, or the type who dates girls like you. But thinking about it you don't really know what type of person Johnny is. Or what kind of girl you really are. 

You click your teeth before smiling. "We'll see about that."

act 2: la petit mort 

It’s not a text you get but instead a facebook invitation. It makes you laugh because men are truly all the same. Liking an old instagram picture, reacting with an emoji to something you post on stories. Never a message being straightforward, it’s like they are all physically incapable of that. You wonder if it’s because of fearing rejection. 

See, dating it's not really your thing, never has been and the proof can be found in your few failed attempts. It just made you nervous, constantly on edge because it always involved a lot of confusing moments, of not knowing where it's going or what the other person is thinking. People are usually bad at the most important thing when it comes to this, communication. And you hated to be either on the side of conflict or of creating expectations too early. 

But Johnny, well, he has got you interested. In a way that’s dangerous because it doesn’t happen very often, at least not with someone who seems interested as well or even the slightest bit possible.

And danger is not your area of expertise, not as of lately, but still you click on the green button and when saturday comes you’re walking inside a very underground party outside of campus. 

You know it's the right place because there's some people outside smoking and the door is slightly open. You walk inside the two floor flat, the small bottle of wine you had brought shaking a little in your bag while you pass some people.

There's music playing but the sound of conversations is louder than that. The scent filling the room is undeniably familiar and it makes you wonder if there's a least one sober person in the room at the moment. You had been to parties like this before, not nearly as loud as the ones that happened on campus and  with a lot less people. An amount that by the end of the night will have shrunk and the ones left will gather around the very old looking couch, share one last blunt and say unnecessary deep things and profess their deep affections for each other.

They were fun parties.

You don't talk to anyone because no one really attempts to talk to you first. That's just how you worked, social interactions never came as easy as it seemed to other people. You usually waited for people to approach and if they were nice you would cling to them. Sometimes you even practiced smiling in the foggy mirror after you showered. You practiced saying an icebreaker, smiling fakely after it, but you never really put it in practice.

You see Johnny before he sees you, surrounded by two boys that look particularly close. He looks effortlessly good, like he always does, with a black sweatshirt and light blue jeans. It makes you want to go there and hold his hand, lean against his chest, feel him loom above you and then kiss him in front of everyone as if it was normal, as if it meant nothing. You got this feeling a lot.

When he sees you he smiles big and makes his way to you with long and quick steps that don't take longer than three blinks from you.

"I thought you were going to DJ tonight." You say when he reaches you holding a bottle of beer. 

He shrugs, standing very close to you now. "Nah, this is not that kind of party." 

His eyes stay glued to you and you fight the urge to fix your hair. You wonder if he thinks you look good on the dress you chose. 

"Hmm, it's not the kind of party I thought I would ever see you on." You point out, looking around as someone screams asking for them to play some song by an artist you don't know. 

"To be honest this is much more my scene." He explains and this small piece of information he gives you about what he's really like makes you feel giddy for some reason. "The only reason I go to frat parties is because of Jaehyun."  

Jaehyun was a dude that played on the football team and looked too good for his own good. Him and Johnny were always together, like they would break if someone separated them. "So that's who you got this weird frat boy aura you got from." 

He laughs loudly. "Sure. But what about you? What's your scene?" 

You pretend to think for a while. "I don't really know. I like very specific things that I only know I'm actually enjoying at the moment." It's a pretentious reply that you hope he finds funny. 

He seems amused by it. "So, a moment type of girl." 

He takes a sip of his beer and you take that moment to get the bottle of wine out of your bag. He laughs at it, as if the thought of you carrying wine around is very funny to him. 

"Sure." You take a sip of your own.  "You seem very keen on figuring out what kind of girl I am."

You enhance your question by raising your eyebrows as he starts leading you to a small empty couch.  "Well, you're mysterious so I got to work with what I get." He says while sitting down and you follow, laughing because the last thing you would consider yourself is mysterious in any way.

"Trust me, you would get a lot more information if you just asked."

He nods, doing a whole scene of thinking of something to ask.  "Ok then, why psychology?" 

You almost laugh at the question because does anyone actually know why they chose their major? "I guess I like that the mind is the only thing that can understand itself." You say it in a pompous way so he knows you are not really that serious about that.  "What about you? Why did you choose business?" 

He looks forwards and moves as if to get more comfortable on the couch. It makes him get closer to you and your legs touch. "I don't know. Money, status, easier to get a job later on." 

That makes you snort. "I don't think right now getting a job is easy in any area." You pause to drink some and then say,  "You don't seem like someone who cares about those things, anyway."

He laughs just a little. "My parents do."  

By his voice you can tell he doesn't really want to talk about that. Not right now at least. 

"Well, at least when you are a famous dj the gossip magazines will be able to mention that you got a business degree you never used." 

He leans into you when he laughs.

✿

The rest of the party is fun. You meet some of Johnny's friends that are too high to keep an actual conversation but are fun enough that you have a good time. 

Johnny makes you laugh a lot and by the time you finish your wine you feel more drunk in his presence than on the alcohol itself. 

There’s just something about Johnny’s presence that makes your legs go a little weak and your heart beat just a little faster, like you have a silly crush. He’s just funny, in a way that comes natural to him, and he makes you feel special, seeming interested in the things you say in a way that has your heart swoon. And on top of all that, like he couldn’t get any more perfect, he’s a whole 6’0 of man, all broad shoulders and always looking down at you with cute smiles.

It doesn't take you two long to reach his dorm, or for you to get on his bed. And when it’s like this, with him hovering over you, thrusting into you in a pace that has you seeing stars, the effect he has on you becomes painfully obvious.

It’s kind of embarrassing, really, how having him on top of you makes you feel so small and safe. How him hitting so deep inside when he gives you a sharp movement of his hips turns your inside into jelly. And all you can do in return is look up at him with glossy eyes and parted lips.

“God, I dreamed of fucking you.” He knows what he’s doing. Even worse, knows how to get to you with just a few words. “Do you like it, baby?” He asks, voice hoarse and lips turning into a barely not there smirk.

“Huh?” Is what you can reply with because you’re way out of it to make sense of his words. It just makes his smirk grow wider, hands moving to grip at your thighs so he can get your legs to open wider.

When he fucks into you faster, his cock hitting the spot that has you absolutely and completely losing your mind, he tries again. “Do you like how — Fuck— How big I feel?” His words are barely a groan from being just affected as you are. He sounds cocky but in a way that makes your eyes cross.

And you nod, enthusiastically so, because you do. It makes you shy, saying it out loud, but he seems well aware how much you love having him inside of you, the feeling of being full, the only thing that swims around your mind.

“Hmm, can you feel me here?” This time the question is accompanied by his palm on your lower belly, where a hint of a bulge forms when he gives you a deep thrust.

“Y-Yes.” You practically wail, body tingling from being so close. “You feel so —- Ughnnn.”

His chuckle is a mix of laughter and a moan, his lips coming down on yours in a kiss that’s as messy as it is desperate. “Are you shy, hmm? C-Can’t even say you like my cock inside of you.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ah. I like it. I like it so much.”

He groans deep in his chest, hips still working. “You’ll drive me crazy one day, know that?"

What he doesn’t say but you know it’s true, it’s that he likes it as much as you do.

✿

What it becomes, is something you don't know exactly how to describe. All you know is that you spend a lot of time in Johnny's dorm these days. So much that you decorated every detail from it, from the fancy music equipment to the posters on the wall.

He fucks you in every way possible and it's weird that someone could know exactly how to please you, how to get you screaming. And then the two of you talk for hours, something putting on something to watch on his notebook while sharing ice cream, other times just laying down in silence until you fall asleep. 

It's something you're not quite sure to navigate. How easy it feels when you are with him, and how right it feels. You two navigate this uncertain thing very smoothly and the need to put a name to it, asking the 'what are we' question escapes you often. 

Right now you two lay down on his small bed, bare legs touching and the thin sheet on top of you barely covers anything. It was a rare thing to feel this comfortable with someone. 

He's talking about something his mother said to him on the phone, about drinking green tea and you just listen, enjoying the sound of his voice until he stops and looks down at you with a small smile. 

"Every time I talk about my parents you get this look." He says and you make a weird face at him. 

"No I don't." You defend yourself and he chuckles. 

"You do." He accuses. "Are you analyzing my parental relationship?"

You scoff, turning around to face him better. "No. I'm just friendly, feeling sorrow because of the fact you didn't get to choose what to study." 

He looks back at you, looking soft with the late afternoon peeking in from his half closed window. "It's fine, really. I can study engine sound later on, there's no expiration. Besides, they did so much for me this is the least I can do." 

You fight the urge to point out that he doesn't really owe them anything. It was hard sometimes to make sense of the way other people navigated their parental relationships. So all you say is a small "Yeah…"

"What about your parents? What are they like?"

"I don't know. They are divorced, so I haven't really talked to my father in a while." You hope he doesn't see this as weird. Every time he talks about his family they seem so normal, that it makes you envy him a bit. You always think that if you talk about your parents, people will think you're somehow messed up because of it, so you always keep it short. Johnny doesn't seem to mind it. "My mom is cool, I guess. She's funny."

He hums "I would like to meet her someday." It sounds like a bold statement. Something that means something, but he says with an ease that makes the thought of it seem pleasant. You realize you would like that to happen as well. 

"She would like you." Is what you say with as much ease as he did. 

A comfortable silence feels the room then, with only the low sound of the fan turning filling your ears. You don't think about how the room smells like sex, or about how summer is approaching and you'll probably not be able to see each other for a while.

"Are you going home for the summer?" You decide to ask. 

 He turns to look at you again. "Yeah, what about you?"

"I'm gonna start my internship. Work on my thesis." You had talked about both these things before, how important they were for you and the mention of it makes him smile. 

"That's really nice." He says and you give him a tiny smile. 

You swallow a lump in your throat then, the 2 months you'll stay apart hitting you and you just let the words escape your mouth. "I'm gonna miss you. Really."

He says it back by kissing you, softly and then with meaning. It happens naturally after that, like there wasn't anything else that made more sense than being as close to each other as possible right now. 

When he enters you, you look up at him in what you think is awe. Your eyes hazy, barely able to keep open and lips parting in yet another moan. 

It’s a nice view, in your defense, of Johnny hovering over you, looking so big  as he fucks you so well you’re sure your second orgasm of the night is already approaching. You’re not embarrassed to say that most of the times this happens you go a little dumb in the head, your mind swimming in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. 

“Oh, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He’s always proud of being able to get you like this, to be the only one who does so.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Good?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come. 

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you on the brink of your release. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again.  

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally coming inside of the condom. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He’ll say afterwards when he’s still inside of you, too lazy to move as you brush the hair out of his face. 

And you’ll smile, in the way he seems to like so much, and say “You look pretty all the time” just to get him to smile at you.

 act 3: yellow light  (hit the brakes) 

The rain was predictable. It had been raining every other day the entire month, on your way to work early in the morning you always ended up stepping on a pool and ruining your entire day because of your wet socks.

Not a lot of the people you knew had a car, or would willing to go out of their way to give you a lift. Your finger had hovered on top of Johnny’s contact for a while, not out of confidence that he would help you because you knew he would. But you hadn't really talked since summer started. There were random interactions, like replying to one of his instagram stories commenting on how intelectual posting pictures at The Louvre made him look and him making a joke about it or sharing a trivia about french people. 

Besides, bothering people made you uncomfortable, as if that somehow put you in debt and in a state of vulnerability with the person.

But Johnny doesn’t look like he’s going to hold a grudge against you over a lift. Instead, when you apologize for making him come all the way there, he says “I was in the area anyway.”

Which you doubt, but you don’t say anything so you just smile and thank him again.

It's somehow weird that you don't even expect him to mention what happened last term. You fight the urge to say it out loud, mention a small detail about the whole thing  just for him to laugh and somehow confirm to you that it really happened. It scared you sometimes how things were so momentary, as if life was supposed to be just a collection of things you would remember about and feel sad about. 

But it’s easy with Johnny, had been from the start. In a way that makes you think that some people are really meant to meet if only for a moment.

You had expected the casual friendship you had with the other friends you had met at college to fade slowly, which had happened. Without the bond of parties and fun there wasn’t much left there, and that was fine, you were never really lonely because you didn’t have a lot of time to be. Your mind was also set in a routine and state of tiredness that anything out of that seemed to set it in a frenzy and it would just shut down, making it hard to make conversation naturally.

Work was usually quiet, but sometimes the girl that was also accepted for the internship would try to strike conversation about her thesis and while she was talking your gaze would be focused forward while your mind went somewhere else. She never pointed that out, probably because she just wanted to talk and not really listen. You were fine with that.

But with Johnny the silence is not the kind that makes you wonder if you should say something. You think that if you were to get in a daze right now he would try to pull you out, ask what you were daydreaming about, or maybe that’s you building your other life, the one you think about before going to sleep.

You watch the window wipe, swiping away the raindrops as Johnny picks a song. It’s just a little past 6 but the clouds make it look much later.

“How is the internship going?” Johnny asks after he sets on a song you don’t really know.

You shrug. Not long ago you had told him how excited you were for this, as if you thought your life would start with this idealized career you had created in your mind. At the time having to watch people your age sign forms about how depressed they are didn’t seem that bad. “It’s fine, not that busy at night so I get to work on my thesis when they give me those shifts.”

That involves a lot of reading multiple times the same page of articles written by pretentious men that think using difficult sentences makes them smarter. You think your advisor expects the same from you, fancy nomenclature but the human mind is already complicated enough by itself.

“And how is that going?” Johnny has no idea what you’re writing about, no one actually does. Sometimes you even doubt yourself, does it really matter to talk about something that feels so specific to your reality? Because it does seem like everyone else is doing a good job at living and not feeling like they are disconnected from reality.

You scoff and shake your head missing the way his lips corners lift just a little. “The best way it can, I suppose.”

“Good enough.” He says in his cheerful voice. “When are you going to become that kind of person that can't stop talking about what they are studying?"

That makes you laugh a little. If there was something you were familiar with, it was people who loved to talk about their thesis as if they would come up with the solution to all of the world's problems. "I don't think that really suits me." Just mentioning it made you actually a little sick.

"Yeah, because you are mysterious and all."

And there it is. Just this small reference to a past conversation you had with him, alone in your small dorm room, makes you feel giddy. You could even blush if you thought hard enough about it. 

"Exactly, a box of surprises." You say, in a funny voice and his laugh makes you smile. 

Outside the rain is still going strong and you can see students running around trying to find shelter while laughing and using their backpacks as improvised umbrellas. The sky is completely dark now and it makes you want to be in bed, safe and sound. 

You go to ask Johnny about his summer in France, but he beats you to it. He had always been better at conversations, anyway.

"I saw that friend of yours, Ela I think." He mentions casually.  "She's dating a friend of mine."

You knew that because of the numerous pictures on your instagram feed, but for some reason you pretend to be mildly surprised "Oh really? I haven't really talked to her in awhile." A shrug. "We don't have much in common, turns out." 

He hums sympathetically. "Yeah that makes sense. But they both seem happy."

"Yeah." The topic doesn't really interest you. You can't barely remember a time where your past friends' love lives had any affect on you, now it's just a piece of information you'll forget about in a few hours. 

"What about you, seeing anyone at the moment?" The question makes you raise both your eyebrows as you let out a laugh that sounds suspicious. It's a weird thing for him to ask but at the same time not really. 

You sigh and he looks at you with a funny face, as if he's amused. I don't think I have the energy for that. What about you?" 

He shrugs, turning his face to the front again. "Not really."

Months ago you think you would have made a flirty commentary about that. Something along the lines of 'That's good, I get jealous easily.' and it would have made him laugh. But now you just hum, not out of interest but because you are not sure how you would react to the potential outcome. 

It should've felt obvious that he would somehow mention your relationship. You always thought that when you two talked about it, it would be bringing up the months you would see each other every day, and how you spend more time at his place than at your own. But what he says is, "Remember when you refused me?" 

He says it in a funny voice, like old friends reminiscing on the past. You get confused with the pace of the conversations and ask "What?" 

"At McDonalds. I asked you out and you said 'We'll see about it.'" He says it laughing, which means he's not hurt by that. 

"I didn't think you remembered that." You mutter, because you really didn't. "And please, I wasn't rejecting you." 

The last part is a lie. At the time you didn't think he was serious about it. Now, you don't know exactly what you think.

"Right, right. When you put me down nicely."

That makes you roll your eyes, laughing alongside him. "Yeah, right." 

When the laugh dies down you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. You feel a weird sensation in your chest. 

"Why did you?" He asks, voice not much more serious but the question has weight that his past sentences didn't have. 

You could tell him the truth, of what kind of person you thought he was and how that changed. You definitely couldn't open up about what kind of person you were. So you settle for this: "I don't know, I think.. I mean, I'm not sure we would have worked out back then." 

He hums loudly, then clicks his tongue.  "Yeah. I don't know either." His voice is soft then, mixing perfectly with the muted rain sound and the song still playing. "You can never know."

You turn your face to look at him. There's no way to do it without him noticing that you are staring, but you do it without a hint of shame.

If you thought about it hard enough, about everything that happened, you would still not be able to point out exactly what would have happened if something more serious took place. And that's a weird thing to think about, because there was never a point in your relationship where neither of you decided it was meant to be casual, that's just how it turned out to be. 

Later at night you will think about how there's nothing really casual about the way you can perfectly picture Johnny when you close your eyes, laying on your bed shirtless, hair a mess and face illuminated by the sun peaking out your window. How there's nothing casual at all about the fact that it has never felt like it did with anyone else.

But now, you just look at him with your heart ready to burst and you say. " We should watch a movie together someday."  

He laughs, looks at you for a second and says "Yeah, we should."

act 4: what’s going on? 

You didn’t feel particularly fond of mondays. Having to let go of the leisureliness of the weekend behind and welcome another week ahead never felt like a good idea when your phone alarm would start ringing at 7am.

It's not that the weekend was much better than that. All you ever did was read books that made your head ache for hours and then write never ending paragraphs that you hoped would make sense for anyone besides yourself. It was easy to become some sort of alienated when you stayed focused inside your room for so long, and having to remember that there was a whole life outside was a little painful. 

When you walk inside the clinic the sound of the coffee machine being turned on reaches your ears and you mutter a small good morning to the psychiatrist that usually took the morning shifts. She was tall and always looked put together with a blazer jacket and red lipstick. Her friendly face made you suspicious for some reason. 

"Good weekend?" She asks as you place your things on the front desk and you spare a smile to make her think you are interested in talking about your weekend. 

"Yeah, sure." You turn on the old computer they got for you to use. A blue screen greets your eyes, then it glitches for a second like it always does. "What about you?"

It might sound like you're not a very nice person if you say you don't really care how her weekend went. Or that you would wish the conversation would have stopped at the greeting. But you really don't. These days talking to people takes a lot of effort and most of the time you wish you'd be just swallowed by silence and left alone. 

"It was great, thank you." She says while adding sugar to her coffee. You are sitting down now and she turns to look at you with a sympathetic face. "Listen, I have a free spot this morning, if you'd like to talk a little." 

You blink slowly, taking a moment to process the words she said, but it really doesn't take a genius to understand she's offering you counseling. Most likely because she thinks you need it. 

And you're not about to argue that you don't, because you more than anything else know that you do, but you feel like you're not ready for it yet. As if you have things to figure out first. "Oh, that's very nice of you to offer." You say, uncertain how exactly to handle this. "But I have some things to get done."

The lie is accepted easily but she still raises her eyebrow a little. Still, she says. "Alright, then. Just remember I'm one door away."

You thank her, smiling politely until she finally leaves to her office. The computer is still loading and you let out another deep sigh, considering drinking a cup of coffee but deciding against it to not trouble your anxiety any more.

What happens next couldn't possibly be predicted. You take your phone out of your bag and open instagram out of habit, to pass some time. Johnny's profile is still the first one that shows up on the stories board, probably from all the time you spent messaging each other in the past. 

It had been a while since you two talked to each other, but you kept up with his whereabouts from looking at the pictures he posted with friends and of random things. More often than not you fought the urge to reply to them, as if you didn't really know each other anymore. 

You don't expect to see him with a girl when you click on his photo. But there he is, with arms around her and a single heart. You tap on to the next one and it's a repost from someone else's instagram, of a picture of him and the girl kissing while laughing. 

There's a few words you can use to describe how you feel. Your heart drops and you go cold, blinking very slowly as the pictures change to another person's stories and for a second it's like it didn't happen. Like it was just a trick of the eye. 

Would it be silly to cry over this? You think it would so you take a deep breath and try to not think about it anymore. 

✿

It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that you probably loved him. Or at least felt a deep kind of infatuation. Sometimes at night you lay in bed and wonder what exactly went wrong and you can't really find an answer to that. It just naturally happened. 

Maybe you should have said something, maybe if you did things would've stayed the same. You wish that at the time you knew what to say but now it was a little too late. 

You stare at your blank ceiling, your skin tingling where it touches you sheets. Looking at couples always made you feel weird, with jealousy maybe because you never thought that was something for you. Being in love has always been something that other people got to experience, and you got to watch it but never try it for yourself. 

Maybe there was something wrong with how you worked, how you viewed this whole thing. You wish you knew what so you could fix it.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you imagine someone wrapping arms around you, with a familiar cologne that makes you feel at home. the person doesn’t complain when you hug them tighter, probably knows this is what you need.

You think of all the men you had dated, the ones who disappeared out of nowhere and the ones who treated you like shit because you allowed it. You didn't really know how it really had to work until you met Johnny.

It had never felt like that. Gentle and soft and easy. 

How to separate true loneliness from the mere need to feel something, to have someone want you? That’s a trick question and you think about it until you fall asleep.  

✿

For you last month in college, you don’t do much. 

The internship ends with the old lady that was in charge of the clinic telling you what an amazing job you did, and how she knows for sure you will exceed in the area. She writes a beautiful recommendation letter, mentions a few professional names and then sends you away. 

A week before its deadline you send out your finished thesis to your advisor, after spending half an hour staring at your email until you can press send. You got a reply two hours later with pleasantries and a date for your final presentation. 

As you wait for it there's nothing a lot to do. Some days you walk around campus without a real destination in mind, stopping by the cafeteria and the library on your way. There's not many people around this time of the year, most have gone already and the ones that stayed spend time rehearsing for presentations or hanging out with friends.

You get texts from people you haven't talked to in months, wishing you good luck and inviting you to parties that you attend once or twice just to get one last taste of it. 

It’s weird that you don’t feel the deep sense of realization you thought you would. You lay down on the small bed you slept on for two years, stare at the empty walls of your dorm now that you’ve put all your things away, and you feel almost normal. Sure there’s a little ball of emptiness and excitement on your stomach alongside pride for finishing this and for having grown up so much since freshman year. But besides that you just feel normal. 

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such. 

Your presentation goes well, you don’t trip over your words and your teachers compliment your great work afterwards. You cry, in front of a bunch of people you don’t know, and let out a deep breath of relief. 

Ten days later you graduate, wearing the usual attire and walking on stage with a smile on your face when your name is called. No one screams your name or cheers loudly because plane tickets were too expensive for your parents to attend. The claps from your classmates are still nice. 

You don’t expect to see Johnny there, but he shows up wearing a suit that looks alien compared to the clothes he wears daily. He looks good, familiar and it makes a lump form on your throat.

You hadn’t really talked to each other in a while. It had been a natural thing to happen, for the two of you to fall a little apart. But still, when he waves at you, you make your way to him easily. 

“Finally got your ticket out of this place, huh?” He jokes with a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mimic. 

“Yeah, I’m finally free.” You joke back. 

You inhale softly when he hugs you, so close that you can hear his heartbeat. He surrounds you with him and you think you would drown right now if he allowed you to. “Congratulations, ____.” He says quietly, almost whispering your name.

You’re both smiling when you part. “Soon it’ll be you.” 

Before he can reply a familiar face makes her way to where you two are. Johnny circles her waist when she gets close enough and you fight as to not let your smile fall. He introduces her as his girlfriend, a biomedicine student that smiles big when she congratulates you on graduating and expresses how she can’t wait for her turn to come. 

She’s very pretty is what you keep thinking about as you make small talk that feels a little painful. 

After some time Johnny says “Well, we should leave you to go talk to your family. It was really nice to see you, ____.”

His words sound genuine and you smile when he hugs you again. 

You don’t tell them there’s not really anyone you know for you to talk to. Instead, you walk to your dorm with your heels clicking on the asphalt. 

act 5: old friend / late spring

Your feet hurt a little from standing too much and not even the coldness of the beer you’re having can make you ignore it. 

The truth is that you really wanted to be home right now, eating leftovers while you watched a movie. But instead, you’re in the bar your colleagues always attended after work to share a laugh and complain about mundane things while enjoying the 2 for 1 deal they had on friday for happy hour. 

Working in an office with people wearing suits hadn’t been what you had envisioned  yourself doing two years after graduating. You had always dreamt of having your own clinic, becoming a therapist or even working at a hospital. But times were hard and the human relations department of a marketing company had been what you had to go for. 

It’s not as boring as it sounds, and you get to know about every gossip firsthand so you settle for it very easily. But having to be at a bar after a whole tiring week was not on your favorites list.

You excuse yourself from the group when they start talking about something you were tired of hearing. A gossip about the boss sleeping with someone from the finance department that you knew about months ago. 

You walk to the bar, cursing your heels until you finally sit on a stool, ordering another beer that you know is gonna be your last before you decide to escape. There’s loud conversation happening all around you and a song playing over it. Your back hurts a bit and you wonder when life has become so mundane. 

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man that sits right next to you until he’s ordering a beer and the voice seems familiar. 

Your heart jumps out of your chest when you look at him and Johnny stands there in all his glory, with blonde hair and a very fancy suit. “Oh my fucking god.” Is the only thing you manage to mumble.

For a second you think you might be dreaming, but when he turns and looks at you his face contorts in the most amusing expression of surprise. 

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such. 

The two of you hug while laughing and he keeps muttering something that sounds like a ‘no way.’

“I can’t believe this! What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly and he laughs. 

“I’m working on a office a few blocks from here.” He explains. “Just started a few days ago.” 

“I work around here too.” You exclaim and it’s like you could buzz from how excited you feel about this. 

You talk about things easily, both sharing what you have been doing for the past years. 

“This is crazy. I haven’t heard from you since college.” He says and it makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn’t last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Suddenly you’re hit with memories from those years and everything that happened between the two of you. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that he’s probably thinking the same thing as you are. 

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “Who would’ve thought we would reunite after those years in a sketchy bar.” You joke, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going. 

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face before he replies. “I would have never guessed this was your kind of scene.” 

The way he says it makes you snort. “It’s definitely not.” 

“Yeah.” He nods while laughing, “Still a moment kind of girl then?”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you take a sip of your beer. “Seems to me like you still got me all figured out.” 

“Do I? I used to think that I did but after all it happened I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He says avoiding your eyes a little and a lump forms on your throat. “To be honest I don’t really understand what happened.” 

You nod, turning to face him. “I think it wasn’t the right time.” It’s what you decide to say and he hums. 

“When is ever the right time for anything?” He asks and it makes you laugh loudly. 

You share a look then, one that says more than you could ever do with words. He smiles and then you smile back, like old friends would. “Maybe we met again for a reason.” 

Deep down, you know this is one of those moments happening. One that you’ll look back on the future and remember that it is where it all began. Again.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Guess I always knew

Prequel to Say it to me Softly.

Pairing:Nolan Patrick x Sawyer Grey(OC fem)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, parties, alcohol, sexual situations, fluff, angst, harassment, fighting.

Hi all! This is really long, but it had to be done! Just some fun Nolan and Sawyer moments through the years until he asks her to move with him. Hopefully it can give you some background on them and you enjoy it!

-💕

Toast popped up just as Delaney wrapped the hair tie around the bottom of Sawyers braid

“Viola.” She said smiling and pulling it tight. Sawyer smiled at her sister as her mother pulled the toast up and put butter on it. It was a warm early summer morning and a cool breeze was drifting through the open screen door in the kitchen. The radio was on, Sawyer’s mother, Anna humming along with the radio as she moved about the kitchen making breakfast. Mason was in his high chair eating cereal, and she could hear Liv making her way downstairs. Kellan was seated at the island reading the sports section of the paper.

“ Alright.” Delaney said, finishing her orange juice and placing her plate and cup in the dishwasher “I’m out.”

“Where you off to today?” He mom asked as she stirred pancake batter, bowl perched on her hip.

“Heading to the lake with some friends, shouldn’t be home too late.”

Her mom smiled, as Delaney dropped a kiss in Mason’s head and slugged kellan in the side. She waved to the girls and her mom.

“Del?” She turned hoisting her bag over her shoulder, hand braced on the door frame.

“Be careful. “

She smiled “Always am mom.” She breezed out the door, the sound of her flip flops on the gravel growing faint until she reached her car and pulled out of the driveway.

“How bout you?” Her mom said turning to Kellan. He stood drinking the last of his coffee, and stretched setting the paper down.

“I’m heading out to pick up some bait, then I’m gonna meet dad out at the mill and we’re gonna go fishing and then we’ll be home with dinner.” She smiled and wiped her hands on her apron, accepting a kiss on the cheek as he walked to put his boots on.

“And you?” Sawyer smiled and before she could say anything she heard her name being called from the driveway.

“Why do I even ask?” He mother chuckled and opened the window.

“Good morning Nolan honey! Are you hungry?”

“Good morning Mrs.Grey! No thanks my mom wouldn’t let me leave without eating. She said she has flowers to drop off for you later today!” Sawyer shoved her feet in her sneakers and put her plate and cup in the dishwasher before giving her mom a quick hug and waving to her siblings.

Nolan was sitting on his bike at the bottom of the driveway, backpack strapped on his shoulders. Sawyer heaved her own bike up, throwing a leg over it and hoisting herself up on the seat.

“So what do you want to do today?” Nolan asked as they began pedaling down the gravel road.

Summer had just started, and they had 3 whole months of free time with no school, no teachers and no responsibility.

“ I don’t know. It’s not warm enough to go swimming.”

He shook his head as they continued down the road waving to various neighbors and classmates. The sun was out now, high in the sky beating down and burning their shoulders. They ended up pedaling out of the neighborhood and dropped their bikes at the end of a hill and hiked to the top. They could see almost the whole town from there. Nolan was stretched out laying on his back eyes closed. Even at 12 Nolan was all legs and arms, hair shaggy that he refused cut. His mom had given up chasing him around with scissors and threatening bodily harm if he didn’t keep it short.

“I’m so glad schools over.”

“Yeah me too. No more homework, no more class, no more hockey.”

“You love hockey.”

“ Well yeah I do but I like a good break now and again you know.”

They sat for a while talking about the important stuff all 12 year olds talk about until it got too hot. They trekked back down the hill and decided to go to Nolan’s. The sun was shining and the air was warm and what should have been the start of a fun filled summer was the day their lives were about to change. Nolan’s mom had come frantically running from the front door when she saw them coming up the front walk and ushered them both into the car.

Delaney Grey was gone, her car abandoned, and no one knew where she was. Sawyer watched the following days destroy her parents, and turn her world upside down. The discovery of her car and her body later on would change the course of Sawyers entire life. She would forever be known as the girl who’s sister was murdered. Nolan was more important to her than ever. His mom took her in, keeping her shielded and protected from things she didn’t need to see, and stepped in when her mom couldn’t.

Time passed, the wounds healed but her parents were never the same and never okay. A lot of it passed so quickly she woke some days and didn’t remember. But the time they turned 15 rumors and stares mostly died down, until the anniversary. It would always be a part of her, and something that would always affect her. But she had Nolan. So she would fine.

******

“Gosh it’s so hot.” Jessi was sitting on a lawn chair in Sawyers backyard, sunglasses perched on her nose. Jessie had become an unexpected and close friend over the school year. They had met in English class, and paired together in a project. Jessie had a purple streak in her long dark hair, and a nose ring but she was funny and the only person who she could spend long amounts of time with besides Nolan. He even liked her, and the two of them got along well. The girls had been laying out in their bathing suits for almost 45 minutes and the most color they had gotten was sunburn. Sawyer closed her eyes and tipped her head back. It was rare to have peaceful moments like this so she was going to cherish it.

“Speaking of hot-“Jessi lowered her glasses and nudged her chin forward. Nolan and Chase, along with some other guys she didn’t know had just pulled into her driveway.

“Are you sure you never hit that?” Jessi was talking about Nolan, as always. She didn’t understand how ‘two people so attractive could exist as just friends without sex’.

“No Jess, I have not.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna now? I mean damn.”

“If you think he’s so hot why don’t you-“

“He’s way out of my league babe. I wouldn’t even try it. But you should.”

Nolan had immediately tried to get them to leave her driveway the minute they pulled up and he saw she was wearing a bikini.

“Oh hell no.” Chase said practically jumping out of the car. “Sorry Pat. You said I couldn’t touch, but you said nothing about looking.”

Nolan mumbled something and followed his friends into her backyard, already regretting not calling. Why couldn’t she be wearing clothing?

*******

Sawyer closed her locker, balancing her books in one arm as she clicked the lock shut. It was raining but it was Friday and school was halfway over. As she turned she bumped into a chest. She looked up, about to scold Nolan for sneaking up on her when she was greeted by Kyle Welch. Kyle was the captain of the football team and a pretty well known colossal dick, but all the same he was popular and someone she had never even spoken to. Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead and she took a step back.

Hi. Your Sawyer right?”

“I-Uh yeah?”

“Your in my English class right? We should study sometime.” He was smiling at her, all teeth like a fucking dragon. He was looking at her with the strangest of looks, one that made her very very uncomfortable. Like she was a piece of meat, a toy for him to play with.

“Uhm. Sure. I guess.”

He gave her another smile and a nod before walking down the hallway and disappearing.

She shook her head, still confused but began her walk to the cafeteria. She found Nolan and the rest of her friends seated at the usual table. She sat between Nolan and Chase, across from Jessie, still bothered by the exchange at her locker.

“Your never going to believe who asked me to study today.” She said as she bit into an apple slice from her spot between them.

“Who?” Chase asked turning to her, mouth full of sandwich.

“Kyle Welch.”

Nolan’s bottle of water banged loudly off the table as he dropped it and his head whipped towards her.

“He what?”

She nodded and as she went to speak Kyle himself passed by their table sending her a smile. Nolan was glaring at him so severely, if looks could kill Kyle would be dead and the football team would be out a captain.

“No fucking way are you helping that guy study.” Nolan said, face set in stone.

“Yeah I’m gonna have to second this one.” Chase said from her other side.

“I wasn’t going to anyways, I think he just did it to be a dick.” She could feel heat and tension radiating off of Nolan, though she wasn’t sure why. As far as she knew they had never had any interaction, and ran in separate circles. But he was still glaring at him all the same.

“I heard some pretty messed up shit about that guy.” Chase said, eyeing Kyle from across the room.

“Like what?” Jessie asked. She was staring at Nolan who was still visibly angry, eyebrows furrowed. She glanced at Sawyer, who shrugged and turned her attention to Chase.

“ I mean it’s just a rumor but someone said that spiked some girls drink at Jenny Miller’s party last year. And I guess she isn’t the only one. Apparently he’s done it before. Like I said, just what I heard but still alarming eh?”

“Just stay clear of him.” Nolan snapped. He was quiet for the rest of lunch till the bell rang. He gave her a long look as he stood, and then turned abruptly and left the cafeteria without another word.

“What’s his deal?” Jessi asked, making Chase roll his eyes.

“You know Nolan. Come on.” He said nudging Sawyer “We’re gonna be late.”

She had always tried to keep her distance from Kyle and his group of friends in general. Nolan had an issue with him that she never truly understood but because it was Nolan she trusted it was for a good reason. She was following behind Chase on the way to history, but as he rounded the corner Kyle reappeared in front of her separating them. Chase kept walking unaware that she was no longer behind him.

“Oh hi.” She said taking a step away from him. The hallway was mostly empty and he was way too close to her.

“So about studying. How about later?”

“Oh I Uhm. I don’t know.”

“Come on. My parents are gone for the weekend so we’ll have the place to ourselves.” He reached forward, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She froze. Nolan had a habit of tucking her hair behind her ear, but it felt all wrong when Kyle did it, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I can drive you to my house. It’ll be fun.”

“I usually drive home with-“

“Me.” She jumped and turned to find Nolan coming up behind her. He was glowering at Kyle over her shoulder, who looked at him unfazed.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah I am. Let’s go.” He steered her away by the waist, and down the hall away from him.

“What the fuck was that about?” He stopped suddenly and spun to face her.

“He wanted me to come home with him after school. I said no.”

He rubbed his forehead eyes closed “Go to History. And wait for me after school. “

He left, storming down the hall leaving her standing in front of her classroom. After class she said goodbye to Chase and stuffed her books into her locker before walking out the back entrance of school. The rain had stopped but it was damp and chilly as she walked, avoiding puddles on the sidewalk. She rubbed her arms through her sweater, and as she turned the corner to the back of the building she stopped.

Kyle and a few of on his football buddies were hanging around, and turned to face her. Kyle smiled slowly, and gave her a once over, making her feel like she needed a shower. She felt trapped for a moment when she realized she was alone, the closest person being way ahead of her in the parking lot.

“Hey. Decided to take me up in my offer eh?” She was still glued to the spot.

“I was actually heading to meet Nolan. Excuse me.” She tried to brush past him but he grabbed her arm.

“Hey where you going?” He pulled her closer, fingers gripping her skin painfully. The other guys had wandered over, circling around laughing. She broke from his grasp only to have him catch both of her wrists and pull him to her.

“You should be thankful I’m even giving you the time of day.” He said coolly “Now how about you come get in my car and we’ll go to my house and you can get on your-“

“What is this?” Nolan had turned to corner with Rhett and Chase. Kyle released her and held his hands up. She bolted to Nolan, falling into his arms holding back tears. Had he not turned the corner she had no idea what would have happened. Kyle and his friends turned to leave, and he yelled over his shoulder.

“Have fun slumming Patrick.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Whoa buddy. Calm down.” Chase said peering around him to look at her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine I just really wanna go home.” She swiped at a tear, as more came rolling down her cheeks, she heaved in a ragged breath. He had scared her, and made her feel small. She wondered if this was how her sister felt when she knew she was in trouble that day. Small and scared. And alone. Nolan ducked his head down to look at her.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay let’s just go.” She walked with them to the car, several student noticing her red eyes and tears. She got in quickly, while Nolan said goodbye to the guys. The ride home was quiet. Too quiet. She felt disgusting, and every time she closed her eyes she could feel his breath on her face and his hands on her skin. Nolan was gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white face unreadable. When he pulled up to her house, he parked and sighed. No one was home, and though normally he would drop her off, he got out.

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

She nodded and he followed her up the front steps and in the front door. She was still crying as she dropped her backpack by the door.

“Sawyer.” He said softly. She turned, head bowed and he very gently wrapped her in a hug, sobs wracking her body. They stayed like that for a while, till she was all cried out.

******

Nolan had completely forgotten that he promised Bo he would do an “interview” the best day. While he was annoyed, he was also relieved. They had been friends for a long time, and Bo took his mind off getting in his car and driving to Kyle’s house to murder him. Sawyer was going to come over afterwards. She was still upset, but was doing her best to mask it. He felt guilty for letting her walk out of school alone that day, when he would typically meet her by the entrance.

After the whole thing was over and Bo ended the interview, miffed that Nolan had answered the phone before he was done speaking, Nolan hung up and turned back to Bo who was smiling mischievously.

“ So?”

“What?”

Bo rolled his eyes “We all know who your best friend is Pat and we both know it’s neither one of those guys.”

Nolan rolled his eyes and scowled “ Leave her out of this.”

“I would but she’s just so hot-“

Before Bo could say anything else Nolan had pulled the back of his shirt over his head and had him in a tight neck lock. The other guys laughed immediately trying to turn the camera back on.

“Alright Jesus let go Pat! I was joking!”

He released him and pointed a finger threateningly at him as Bo straightened his shirt and started giggling.

“I’m serious-“

“I know Pat I would never do that. I thought you knew me better than that.”

That was Nolan’s worst fear. Most of his friends knew better than to even think about asking Sawyer out but it didn’t stop them from looking and making comments. The speculation that surrounded them had grown huge by the time they were in high school, and while it was exhausting to have to answer the same questions over and over again Nolan found that he didn’t really mind that people thought there was some attachment between them. It kept guys away from her and while he knew it was selfish he couldn’t help it. He just didn’t think anyone was good enough for her. He had purposely said someone else’s name when Bo asked so that they would leave him alone about her and it had backfired anyways.

It was frustrating for Nolan to know that given the opportunity all his friends would make some type of move on her, and he would break both his legs before that happened. He tried to keep a barrier between her and them but most of the time it didn’t work. She was just so damn friendly and approachable, her big smile pulled people in like a magnet.

“ I thought she’d be around, where is she anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Bo held his hands up, and as if on cue Sawyers car pulled into his driveway. Nolan had tried to hurry the process of the ‘interview’ hoping they would be gone before she got there but Bo had spent so much time goofing around they were behind schedule.

Great.

She stepped out, closed the door and made her way to Nolan’s back yard. Her hair was curly today, falling down her back to her waist. She had on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve grey shirt. Even completely covered the other guys had already given her a thorough once over and continued to stare as she came to stand next to him. Nolan gave Bo one last glare

“Hi.” Nolan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. For whatever the reason Nolan got slightly possessive over her in situations like this, which didn’t make sense because he wasn’t her boyfriend. But the arm that he wrapped around her shoulders stayed there, keeping her pulled flush to his side.

“Hi Bo.” She smiled at him, practically making the other guys flood Nolan’s yard with drool.

“Hey. Your boy here just hit me with a plastic ball right in the junk.”

“Well you probably deserved it.”

Nolan laughed and bid Bo and the others goodbye, as they filed out of his yard, and Sawyer followed him up the steps to his room and threw herself down on his bed. He pulled open a drawer and pulled his shirt off to put on a new one. Sawyer turned and felt a blush creep up her neck while he changed. She had seen him shirtless plenty of times but he had obviously been spending extra time in the gym and his long lanky frame was beginning to change.

What the hell am I saying? She shook her head and turned her attention to the tv instead, trying to ignore shirtless Nolan on the other side of the room. He pulled another shirt over his head and came to sit next to her.

“Tired?” He asked. She was curled in a ball, head on his pillow. She nodded and closed her eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep last night after you know-.”

He nodded “I’m still mad about it. But that’s never gonna happen again.”

He laid down next to her, settling in and flipped the tv on and she inches closer resting her head on his shoulder. She had an angry purple bruise on her wrist, another on her upper arm. He was pissed just looking at it. It was a reminder that he hadn’t been there to protect her.

Her eyes had slid closed. He was so warm and inviting and she felt safe and relaxed for the first time in 24 hours, as she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders. He felt her body grow heavy, and her breathing even out and grow slow. They were alone in his house, his parents and sisters were gone and would be for several hours. He reached a hand up and ran it tentatively through her hair. He always had his hands in her hair. It was thick and soft and caught the light just right when she moved. She stirred slightly, and wrapped an arm around his midsection, sighing. Her eyes opened and she tipped her head back to look up at him.

Nolan suddenly felt an extreme urge to kiss her. His eyes moved to her mouth, which was less than 6 inches from his own, and then back up to her eyes again. They stayed that way for a few moments before Nolan leaned forward slightly hand coming up to her face. Her heart rate increased as his nose brushed against hers. Their lips had just touched when the sound of a slamming door from downstairs made them jump apart and Sawyer moved clear across the bed away from him before standing up quickly. Nolan was alarmed at what had almost just happened and was rooted to the spot. She was backed up against the wall like a animal cornered in a cage, eyes large.

“Sawyer I-“

She hurried from the room, the sound of her feet carrying down the stairs, out his front door and into her car. He threw himself backwards and sighed.

Fuck.

******

Sawyer was standing with Jessie drink in hand when Bo came up behind her and bumped her shoulder.

“Your boy is here.” He motioned behind him with his head, and Sawyer rolled her eyes.

“He’s not my boy.” She looked over Bo’s shoulder and felt a twinge of annoyance. Nolan was standing with Rhett and Chase surrounded by a group of girls all giggling and twirling their hair around their fingers, giving them their best doe eyes. One girl in particular had Nolan’s attention, as he leaned against the wall hands in his pockets smiling as she spoke to him. The twinge of annoyance became anger. What the hell was he doing? He had nearly kissed her earlier that afternoon and now he was flirting with someone else?

“Kaylee Smith eh?” Jessie shook her head and took a sip out of her solo cup “Is anyone gonna tell him it’s supposedly like a cave down there?”

Bo stifled a laugh and looked at Sawyer. She was gripping her cup, other arm folded across her midsection.

“Well isn’t that just fucking cozy.”

She downed the rest of her drink and pushed through the crowd to get another one. Bo and Jessie watched her go before turning back to each other.

“This isn’t going to end well.”

“Maybe I should go warn Pat.”

Bo turned and weaved through the crowd of people, and gave Nolan a punch when he reached him. He turned pausing his conversation with Kaylee, and gave Bo a small smile.

“What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you?…. Alone?” Kaylee reached forward and gave Nolan’s hand a small squeeze before she turned to walk away.

“I’ll talk to you later.” She gave him a smile over the shoulder which he returned, and turned to leave with her friends.

“Are you a moron?” Bo asked arms folded. Nolan frowned, and Rhett and Chase both let out a chuckle.

“What?”

“Your about to cause a serious cat fight my guy.”

“Cat fight? I’m down for a cat fight.” Chase was snickering over the top of his solo cup, as he surveyed the girls in the living room.

“Who?” Nolan was confused. He had been talking to Kaylee since he had arrived and she was definitely flirting with him. He didn’t really have any interest in her, but he also didn’t have a girlfriend so he let her continue. And then it hit him. Sawyer had to be around here somewhere and no doubt it looked from the outside that he was going to take Kaylee home.

“Where is she?” Bo was frowning at him, and shook his head.

“What is up with you two? Your friends but I don’t think your really just friends-“

“Please dude we’ve had this conversation with him a million times and he refuses to budge.”

“Where is she?” Nolan repeated more forcefully this time. After what had happened earlier he had to at least explain himself. He couldn’t see her but he did see Jessie making her way through the crowd. He pushed in between them and caught her by the elbow.

“Nolan hi.” She knew what he wanted, but Sawyer had asked her to cover so she was going to.

“Where is she Jessie?”

“I don’t know honestly. I lost her a little bit ago. Check the bathroom maybe?”

Jessie’s face was solid as steel. She wasn’t going to tell him anything.

Sawyer in the mean time was in the kitchen pouring alcohol into a cup when she felt a presence behind her. Kaylee smith was leaning against the counter behind her, arms crossed. She had never spoken a word to her before so she wasn’t sure why she was in her space now.

“Sorry do you need something?” She wasn’t usually this snippy but she was already annoyed and the source of her annoyance was way too close for her liking.

“What’s with you and Nolan?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going home with him, and I just want to make sure you aren’t together.”

Sawyer giggled into her cup, before sipping off the top of it and shook her head as it burned all the way down her throat. “Your awfully sure of yourself huh?”

She pursed her lips in a tight smile, head turning to the side “Honey, I always get what I want. So you can find your own way home tonight. Kay?” She gave a wide nasty smile and Sawyer saw red.

“You really think he’s taking you home? Then you don’t really know Nolan at all. And don’t ever think he’ll take you home over me. Ever.”

At that moment Nolan himself entered the kitchen looking relieved to find her and then awkward when he realized she wasn’t alone. Kaylee smiled at him but he brushed past her and stood between them.

“Can I talk to you.” He gently grabbed Sawyers elbow and pulled her out of the kitchen. She sent a small smile at Kaylee over her shoulder as he steered her away, and left her standing in the kitchen mouth open. Once out of sight she pulled her arm from his grip and nearly stumbled, catching herself on the wall.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not enough.” She took another sip of her drink and ran her fingers through her hair before she turned on him.

“You and Kaylee smith huh?” She was squinting at him, cheeks red, hand on her hip. She looked angry, but Nolan wasn’t sure why because he hadn’t done anything.

“What? No.”

“Oh please.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, and stumbled back from the force of it “I saw her all googledneyes-gogole eyeed” Nolan was almost tempted to laugh as she stumbled over her words eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to say what she was trying to.

“Okay. I think it’s time to take you home.”

“She said you were taking her home.”

“God no. I’m taking you home. Now let’s go.”

He said goodbye to his friends and put her in the car. Her house was dark which meant no one was home. He had a hell of a time getting her out and up the stairs. He had just gotten her in the door when he felt her start to shake. At first he thought she was going to puke and immediately held her out at arms length, and rubbed against the wall near the light switch trying to turn it on with no hands. But when she let out a whimper he realized she wasn’t about to get sick.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” She choked out, bracing a hand on his arm as she almost fell in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s gonna take you away.”

“What? Who?”

“Kaylee what’s her name? Girlfriends never let guys have girl beat friends.”

“Oh my god are you-stop.” He heaved her up the stairs as tear flowed down her face. He turned her around so her arms were around his neck, face tucked into his shoulder. She had herself pulled so tightly against him he was struggling to get up the stairs. He had one hand firmly on her lower back, the other one he was using to pull himself up the stairs by the railing. She let out a particular loud sob, and Nolan tired to pull her off of him to look at him, but she just held him tighter.

“Im not even into her like that.”

“Her. Someone else. Doesn’t matter. They’ll take you from me.” She whispered against his neck. Her words touched Nolan’s heart.

“That’s never gonna happen okay?” He opened her bedroom door and walked her forward to her bed losing his footing and falling down into bed with her. They landed, bed springs squeaking with a small ‘oof’. Her tears had subsided and she was laying with her eyes closed on her pillow as he untangled himself from her.

“ Nolan?” Sawyer asked face against the pillow

“ Hmmmmm?”

“ Do you still love me?” He chuckled and pulled the covers up over her, pushing her hair from her face. She was flushed and her eyeliner was smudged around the eyes from her crying, but she opened them and stared at him waiting for his answer.

“ Of course I do. Why?”

She sat up suddenly, getting right up in his face. He was frozen as she stared at him, lips pushing up against his, arm wrapping around his neck. It was chaste at first but then she pressed harder and pulled herself flush to him. Like his body was on autopilot he let his tongue trace across her lower lip, and she opened her mouth allowing him to push it inside. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as one of his hands tangled in her hair and gripped the back of her neck. They carried on a few more moments till he felt her tug at the bottom of his shirt.

“No Sawyer.”

She looked shocked, and then angry as she backed up against her headboard.

“Did you say no? “

“Yes I did.”

She sputtered for a moment, genuine hurt clouding her face. Nolan felt bad but he had to put his foot down.

“ What? Not pretty enough?”

“No that has nothing to do with it. I’m not gonna let you do this when your drunk. Now go to bed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” She blinked sadly and laid down facing away from him. She was out within seconds and Nolan sighed looking down at her. He laid down on the sofa at the opposite end of her room, and folded his arm beneath his head as stared at the ceiling.

What the hell was going on?

Sawyer woke up with a raging headache the next morning. Her whole body hurt, and her mouth tasted like booze. She blinked a few times before she lifted her head and immediately put it back on her pillow. Her clothing from the night before was still on and as she curled up to snuggle deeper under the blankets her foot hit something. She froze and turned slowly to find Nolan was sitting up next to her on her bed, doing something on his phone. Her curtains were drawn shut and the room was still dark, but the the tv was on. She could hear the putter patter of rain on her window and could see the dark clouds through a sliver of window not covered by the curtain. He looked down when she stirred and smiled.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a train. She rolled over to face him, head still on her pillow.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll stay for a while.”

She nodded and yawned snuggling in closer to him. He reached a tentative hand up and let his fingers run through her hair. She was asleep within a few minutes, her head resting on her pillow by his hip. She didn’t remember last night and he wouldn’t tell her about it. It was a secret he would keep, and kiss he would try to forget.

Nolan never spoke of it to anyone, not his friends, family no one. It was a secret he would take with him not only for his own sake but for hers as well. He didn’t know what she was going through but what had happened last night could have changed everything. He had thankfully not been drinking at that point, because if he had he wasn’t so sure he would have stopped her. The way she had kissed him had sent a chill up his spine. He buried it, and things between them went back to normal, but sometimes late at night when he couldn’t sleep it floated into his mind, and though he would never admit it to anyone but his own conscience, he wanted to do it again.

*******

“Nolan James you are cutting this hair whether you like it or not.” His mom said as she shoved him out the door and into the car. Sawyer was chuckling as she buckled herself in the backseat. He threw his head against the passenger seat. He had worked so hard to grow it out.

“I will not have you looking like a homeless child when you get drafted.”

“Everyone wears it this way now mom-“

“Well you don’t.” Nolan grumbled, and bitched and moaned through the whole thing. His mom made him take it short, shorter than it had been in a long time. He looked clean cut and presentable, but she liked it long.

“You look SO handsome.” She said smiling at him through the mirror. He looked sadly at the long pieces that littered the floor.

“I better get drafted really high for this.”

*******

“Philadelphia selects from the Western Hockey League’s Brandon Wheat Kings, Nolan Patrick.”

Sawyer covered her mouth, blinking away the tears in her eyes. She watched as Nolan stood, and hugged his parents and sisters before turning to her and pulling her into a very long hug.

“I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” He whispered, before releasing her and walked up to the stage, and pulled on the orange sweater.

He had made it. And she was so proud of him. His mom gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s so important to him that your here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She swiped at a tear, and clapped along with the rest of the crowd as Nolan stood on the stage and officially became a Philadelphia Flyer. She knew this meant she was going to lose him, that he would be far away and make new friends, and maybe even meet the girl he would spend the rest of his life with. But he had made it and that was all that mattered. When everything was all said and done, interviews completed and photos taken, it was just them alone in her hotel room. They had broken into the mini bar, and were laying on their back in the bed. The orange jersey hung on the back of a chair, and her black dress was hung on a hanger, shoes on the floor.

“How does it feel?” She asked quietly. The sun had just started to go down, the tv was on and she was sleepy from the long day and the alcohol. He shrugged.

“Nols you got drafted today. That’s a big thing.”

“Yeah. But it means I’m going to have to leave you.”

He turned his head to look at her. He was happy about the draft, but his whole life was in Winnipeg, with his family, his friends, and her. And he would leave all that at the end of the summer.

“I’m not going anywhere Nols. I’ll be here when you leave, and I’ll be here when you get back.”

There wasn’t much talking the rest of the night. They chose to sit in comfortable silence till they both fell asleep. They spent as much time together that summer as they could, clinging on to the last moments together for dear life. They were both absolutely terrified of being without each other for the first time in almost 19 years. She would have to re adjust her life at home without him, and he would have to start over somewhere new without her.

The night before he was due to leave they hiked up to the top of that hill they had sat on the day her sister disappeared. It was dark by the time they reached the top, the sounds of nightfall echoing through the trees. The moon was high in the sky, casting a pale milky glow over the trees and hills. The light sod town seemed so far away as they sat neither one saying a word.

“Will you come visit?” He asked quietly. She nodded.

“Of course. As soon as I can. Your gonna have so much fun in Philly Nolan.”

“I guess.”

It was quiet for a while before Nolan couldn’t take it anymore. He had been dying the last few months, each day getting shorter and shorter as it passed. His time with her seemed like it was being robbed from him. He went over it a million times in his head. And he always came back to the night she kissed him. A night she didn’t even remember and he would never forget.

“Sawyer.” He said suddenly, startling her. She was so used to him mumbling his way through life it took her aback how deep his voice was when he spoke clearly.

“What?”

“Can I- I just. Maybe this is just me being…whatever about leaving tomorrow but, can I…can I kiss you?”

She sucked in a breath, feeling like her chest was constricting. They had not spoken of their almost kiss the day he took her home when she was drunk, and she had pushed it out of her mind as a pity kiss for what had happened at the school the day prior. She didn’t remember the other one, and here he was asking her to do it again. He stared at her for a long time waiting for an answer. She didn’t know why she did it, she couldn’t think of a reason, she could barely even formulate words, but somehow she managed to say.

“Yes.”

He rose to his feet and extended a hand pulling her up with him. Her heart was clocking around in her chest, as she watched his hand moved forward and came to rest on her cheek. He stepped forward, pulling her against him very gently before he leaned down and brushed her nose with his own, before he pressed his lips to hers.

It wasn’t a heavy make out like in a movie. It was soft and slow, and shorter than she wanted it to be. When they broke apart, he sighed and let his forehead fall against her own.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”

******

She watched with tears in her eyes as Nolan hugged his parents, various aunts uncles and friends at the airport. There had been no more talking, or kissing the night before. She didn’t know why he had done it, but it felt like it was okay. He finally turned to her, eyes sad and took a deep breath.

“Don’t cry.” He said as she fell slowly into him, arms coming around his midsection. A series of silent tears fell from her eyes as he rubbed a hand up her back. She knew this moment was coming, but she wasn’t ready for it. He pulled back to look at her, hands resting on her shoulders. She had her head bowed, two fistfuls of the material of his sweatshirt. His mom motioned for the rest of the group to turn around, and give them some privacy.

“Nolan.” Her voice caught in her throat. He reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear for what felt like the last time.

“I’ll see you soon.” He gave her a small smile, and let go of her still grasping her hand as he walked away towards the gate until they both let go. She wrapped her arms around her middle. She watched until he disappeared through security before she let out a choked sob. Bo, Jessi, And Chase immediately pulled her into a three way hug, and allowed her to cry on their shoulders right there in the airport.

*******

I hope you like this! It was both funny and sad and special to write! Let me know what you think💕

[anika-ann]

No Strings Attached - Pt.2

Y/N vs. Dangerous Cardio

Type: Modern-college-professor AU x CHUCK, part of Attached series More info here and on the Attached masterlist

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 3400

Summary: It’s all very sweet until it isn’t.

Warnings: swearing, Steve in a gym, mention of a migraine, violence, gun violence

A/N: Enjoy and thank you if you’re giving this crossover a chance. You don’t need any knowledge of Chuck, not realy.

Attached & No Strings Attached masterlist

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You woke up with a startle; some shuffling and a click of a drawer made your snap eyes open and follow the sound. Steve’s back welcomed you as he was fishing out something hidden to your sight.

What time was it? What day was it? Why had you been you sleeping when Steve looked like he just got home from work? Why didn’t he wake you?

…hold on. It was Tuesday and there were those Ministry people at the uni and the strange test and you got the splitting headache--- what time was it that Steve was already home?

You groaned when you noticed the drawn curtains, last sunrays peeking through and colouring the sky. Jesus. Had you slept through the majority of the day?!

“Babygirl?” Steve’s voice reached your ears and your head whipped back to him automatically, thanking heavens when your temples didn’t throb with the sudden movement.

He placed the socks on top of the drawer, making his way to you, concern drawing his brows together, creating those lovely worried wrinkles on his forehead.

“Uh-huh?” you hummed as you sat up, once again pleasantly surprised that the world wasn’t swimming in front of your eyes, no blurred vision, nothing.

Aside from feeling sleepy, you were… fine. Which was kinda strange, but you weren’t about to complain.

Sitting next to you on the bed, Steve gently sunk his fingers into your hair, dropping a sweet lingering kiss on your forehead. Lips never leaving your skin, beard scratching lightly, they caressed your temples next; and you realized what was happening, your own lips curling up in a smile as pleasant warmth spread in your chest at Steve’s worry.

He was lowkey checking for fever.

“You’re not subtle,” you informed him, both amused and touched.

His words vibrated against your skin as his mouth moved a bit higher again, thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“Not trying to be. How do you feel?”

“How do you even know I wasn’t feeling good?”

He withdrew a little – not before he dropped a cheeky kiss on your nose – raising a challenging eyebrow.

“Ibuprofen on the table and you sleeping at five in the afternoon after only attending one class?” he offered with a smirk, but you weren’t fooled. It worried him. You weren’t a perfect student, but you rarely skipped class; especially Callahan’s class, because you immensely enjoyed it.

“Fair enough. Is it really five already?” you asked rhetorically, running a hand through your hair, catching Steve’s own and brushing the soft skin of his wrist with your lips; a silent thank you for fussing. He gave a brief smile, pulling you to his side, letting your head lull against his shoulder. “When did you come home?”

“Just a few minutes ago, unfortunately. Kept messing stuff up when I wanted to leave the office.”

Because I was worried, was left unspoken and you sighed, wrapping your arm around Steve’s stomach, drawing soothing circles on his side.

Steve was a mother hen; it wasn’t something that was widely known about him, but you had had several opportunities to experience it and you loved it… most of the time. Then again, it brought unnecessary concern to weight his shoulders down.

“I’m sorry, Stevie. How did you know? Did Bucky tell you something?” you wondered, faintly remembering his gaze having following you as you left.

“Linda Parson dropped by to tell me, actually.”

A snort escaped you and you laughed into Steve’s shoulder, fingers clutching his waist. You felt your cheeks warm up with both amusement and embarrassment when you recalled your last encounter with her.

“Was she able to look you in the eye?” you chuckled, causing Steve to retreat and watch you with puzzlement written all over his face.

“Not really-- how did you-?“

“I was kinda out of it. I’m pretty sure I told on you that you don’t usually sleep naked. And that we totally went at it before going to school today. And that your hair looks really good in the morning.”

Steve’s eyebrows gradually rose until they nearly got lost in his hairline. “Uhm… that would explain it. Also… thanks?”

“As if you didn’t know.”

One corner of his lips rose higher in appreciation and then he looked you in the eye, serious again. “How do you feel?”

You didn’t hesitate – and you didn’t have to make up things just to calm his obvious anxiety. You simply spoke the truth.

“…surprisingly good, actually. Headache’s all gone, which is… weird. Frankly, it was terrible, I can’t remember feeling anything like it before.”

Steve’s gaze travelled all over your face, tender fingers tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears before he proceeded to kiss the presumably offending spots on your face. You couldn’t but smile widely, pulling him in for a proper kiss, which he willingly surrendered to.

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” he whispered, brushing his nose with yours.

“Not your fault.”

“Well, you did sleep for a while as if you were catching up on lost hours… maybe I’m keeping you awake too much,” he remarked cheekily and you rolled your eyes at the switch of moods, tickling his side which caused him to chuckle and swiftly retreat.

“Har-har. Do you hear me complaining?”

“Nope, usually you’re just asking for more.”

You gaped at him and chuckled breathlessly, feeling your stomach flutter at the memories of you doing exactly that. “You are incorrigible, Professor Rogers.”

He only smirked and pecked your lips. “Sweetheart, you’re forgetting I know you wrote about having your cunt eaten out and getting railed against the desk in my office and thanking me for it.”

This time you sputtered, almost choking on your spit at such low blow; playful, yes, but brutal. Also – such language!

“Steve!”

“So I don’t think you should be playing this whole ‘you’re incorrigible’ game with me.”

“Jesus, Steve. You’re a menace.”

“Oh babygirl, you know it... just for you,” he assured you with a grin, his eyes now completely cleared of all worry, humour twinkling in them instead. “Anyway, I uh… I was thinking the gym, since it’s Tuesday, but-“

Right. Another thing about Tuesday. Sweaty Steve and workout. Yum and—eh. Okay.

“Of course. I’m coming with.”

You felt better – you felt completely fine, to be honest. And if it got worse by exercising, well… you could always just settle for taking it awfully easy in order to watch Steve’s biceps bulge under weights, his perfect ass growing even rounder while doing squats.

Oh yeah, you were so coming with.

“Are you sure? I mean, we can totally stay in, I don’t want you to-" he fussed again, but you just shut him up with a quick kiss.

��I’m fine, Stevie. Plus, you’re like a damn model. I need to keep up at least a bit.” You couldn’t but grimace at that a bit, drawing an offended sound from him.

“Hey!” he protested, frowning. “Thanks and all that, but what are you even talking about? Sweetheart, you’re gorgeous. My perfect, perfect pretty girl-“

You squinted at him playfully as he turned your lame attempt at a joke – that might have been a bit serious, because had you seen him – into a compliment. “Charmer. But I mean in general, you know. They say it’s healthy to do sports. Plus, we paid for that couple membership, so…”

“Ah, yes, at least once a week together to get a discount. What were we thinking?”

“That sex doesn’t count if it’s the only exercise we do,” you shot back instantly, this time making him snort in amusement.

“I love you, babygirl. And I know I keep saying it, but I love how your mind works,” he added sweetly, kissing your forehead again as if he wanted to make sure you really weren’t running a fever and thus were ready to be cleared to leave the bed by nurse Rogers.

“Love you too, Stevie. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”

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Exercising was not such a great idea.

Obviously, Steve delivered; watching him lift weights and work out in general was a delight, your mind helpfully supplying the huffs and other noises you knew he was making occasionally, but couldn’t be heard over the music.

And you actually did enjoy going just for yourself; the endorphins worked wonders for your mood, always. Even today, in the first few minutes as you jogged and then even ran on the treadmill, you were having fun.

But then the previous headache echoed dully in your skull; barely there, considerably less intense than in the morning, but you certainly had no plan to push it. You did not want to be where you had been earlier today.

So you eased up your tempo at first, the pulses in your temples slowing down and then you resigned entirely and switched to a different machine. Less cardio, more strength training, while you did not forget to get an enticing view of your fiancé, recalling other times his face got flushed like this.

Except not even sinful thoughts could quite erase the barely-there tingle of pain.

You gave up with a sigh, wiping your hands to your leggings and approached the most handsome man in the gym.

Steve carefully set his weights down, hair sticking to his forehead in a way that should not be as attractive as it was and smiled at you curiously.

“Hey there, handsome,” you humoured him, earning a breathless chuckle.

“Hey beautiful. What do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Your eyebrows jumped, smile faltering.

“I’m gonna get some air, just wanted to let you know.”

“You okay?” he asked, damp eyebrows furrowing and you couldn’t resist – you smoothened the line out, for some reason actually revelling in how sticky the skin was. “Gross,” Steve mumbled in return.

“How dare you. I’m… fine. Just feeling the head again and don’t want to overdo it. Fresh air might help,” you offered with a shrug.

“Fresh air? In New York City?”

“Fresh-ish.”

Steve dropped a kiss to your forehead, people around be damned and smiled at you, the concern still undeniably present.

“Just don’t run off on me.”

“Run off? On this?” you joked and not joked at all, gesturing to his body vaguely, earning an eye-roll.  Oh but you knew he liked to have his body appreciated alright. The attractive body just happened to hide a soul that would make angels weep, giving him a reason to actually love him. As a refiner of that, you tapped his chest lightly above his heart, grinning up at him. “And from this? I wouldn’t dream of it, Stevie.”

His gaze softened, probably following you even as you made your way to the lockers.

“Don’t forget your coat!” he called out lowly, but loud enough for you and a few people around to hear. You snorted to yourself as the on-lookers probably thought he was being like an overprotective parent – and yet, you smiled at his care.

“Mother-hen…”

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You were frankly grateful to have your coat – warmed up from the gym, the early March air was still rather cold against your skin. You made a mental note to thank Steve, thoroughly, for looking out you. He had also had a point; fresh air in New York wasn’t exactly an available article, but you supposed this would do.

Trying to ease the headache, you breathed in deeply, deciding against leaning against a similarly cold and dirty wall, walking slowly instead, glad that the street was one of the less frequented ones as the gym was just outside the busiest city centre.

You opted for subtly observing your fellow citizens in order to relax your mind and to resist the usual urge to pull out your phone and check what was new in the world. You played a game with yourself, one Steve asked you to play with him sometimes and which always resulted in him complimenting your unique mind which he claimed to love so much; just watching people, wondering about what their story was.

You were ninety percent sure that the guy in the beige trench coat was an accountant hating his job, but sticking with it for the sake of his loved ones; a ring told you there was definitely a significant other for him if not a whole family.

The woman your eyes fell on next, on the other hand, loved her job. Either she had a very enthusiastic colleague she was discussing a certain problem with – her eyes were shining with excitement, mouth seemingly forming very long words, likely a scientist then – or the said colleague was more than a colleague. You felt one corner of your lips rise; you knew a thing or two about blurred lines.

The next guy was--- well, hunk. Judging by his built, you would think he was heading for the gym you were hovering around, definitely reckoning him as a regular visitor. But in his leather jacket, jeans and cap, an inconspicuous clothing at first glance, there was just something about him that unsettled you.

Your heart skipped a startled beat when your eyes met. Your insides twisted uncomfortably as his irises flashed with an emotion you didn’t dare to try and read.

His shoulders seemed even wider now as his right hand reached to his lower back, probably to adjust his jeans and pull them higher to shield his loins from the cold. You didn’t blame him, his jacket wasn’t exactly long, more of a fashion statement, than a practical choice-

“GET DOWN!”

The world swayed of its place as something collided with you hard, the woman’s cry barely having reached your ears before she slammed into you. You landed on your side with a hiss of pain as you hit the ground, but the quiet sound was drowned in something much louder – something that made your blood run cold.

The bang rattled through the city noise, instantly followed by screams—and to your horror, more shots were fired before your brain even registered that someone--- someone actually fired a gun.

Multiple times.

And few of those shots rang right from above you, forcing you to close your eyes and flinch violently in fear.

“Get up!”

Your side throbbed with pain, your chest constricted as you couldn’t breathe in, the command falling on deaf ears.

An iron solid grip circled your arm and tugged you half-way up. Your eyes snapped open, catching a glimpse of blond ponytail before your vision blurred with sudden tears and another loud bang thundered through your head.

“Go, GO!”

Your feet acted on their own accord, moving swiftly, stumbling as you were forced to stagger whichever direction you were being pulled.

Heart racing as if it was meant to escape your chest, the world seemed too slow and too fast at once. You couldn’t tell how you were running away from the terrible noise, but you were – and you were still being tugged to follow your companion god knew where, hand on your bicep, fingers digging in, people getting out of your way more than willingly.

And for a good reason.

It finally connected in your brain that--- that was definitely gun in the woman’s hand. You instantly came to a halt, desperately yanking away from her grip.

“Hey!” she complained and you managed to get a look at the woman manhandling you at last, even as she kept looking back and forth as if checking whether you were being followed.

You felt your jaw go slack. She was familiar; very vaguely, but unmistakably familiar.

“Are you-“ you choked out, fear mixing with relief, because this was definitely the woman from today’s morning, the one who was with the ministry even if she wasn’t wearing glasses anymore and what the hell, did the Ministry of Foreign Affairs teach people how to shoot or-

You yelped when a black jeep pulled over by the sidewalk, causing you to instinctively jump back; and to forget for a second that there was a stranger right next to you who had just been in a gunfight probably on your side and got you as far away from the weird gunman as possible.

The backseat door flew open.

“Get in, Walker!”

Walker. Right. That was her name – the name Chuck, Carmichael, had introduced her with as his colleague. And now this.

What the hell was going on and what had it to do with you?! Why did the woman grab you of all people?!

“Come on, we’re here to help, I promise,” Walker blurted out, her sharp gaze still scanning the street, her head beckoning towards the vehicle.

For some reason, you believed her.

Because she had had an opportunity to shoot you instead of shooting after the guy who had just pulled out a gun in the middle of a peaceful street and she hadn’t.

Decision was made. She certainly was the lesser evil at the moment, even if going with her included meeting whoever was driving the jeep and he could be worse than the gunman. But there was no time to lose any more time by your useless pondering.

You climbed into the car, swiftly followed by the blond, door shutting close just as a bullet hit the wingmirror, making you nearly jump out of your skin and scream bloody murder in fright.

You were knocked backwards to the seat and to the side as the driver stomped on the gas harshly, darting from the side of the road into the traffic, horns complaining all around you as he had no regards for the regulations.

“You alright?” the deep timbre from the front seat asked, a grunt following when he took a sharp right, causing you to crash into the other woman.

Your head was spinning, the roller-coaster of madness momentarily rendering you speechless – but the question wasn’t aimed at you.

Which was good, because you were not okay in the slightest.

You were hyperventilating, your lungs burning from the improvised run, your muscles ached from the gym visit and the extra work-out which involved running from a fucking shooter. Your head was back to pounding and your heart felt like it might give out any second.

And you were definitely crying, but all that was the least of your concern, because-- what the fuck was happening?!

Who were these people? Who was the guy who--- who just decided to shoot into the crowd, nearly shooting you? Why did Walker snatch you away from the place, to supposed safety? Why not the others and--- oh god, the others.

Steve!

“We’re good. He obviously got away, but I think I took a good look on a tattoo on the side of his neck.”

The driver – tall, wide-shouldered, with dark-ish hair, that much you could see even with your vision swimming in tears – only grumbled in response.

Before you could say a single word (or yell), your phone vibrated in your pocket and you instantly made a grab for it, pulling it out.

“Is that a phone?!”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about this,” your blond companion blurted out in response to the irritated question from the driver’s seat.

You didn’t even get to accept Steve’s call before the device was yanked from your hand--- and a second later, a knife was sticking out of it, lead straight through the middle.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, horrified, terrified and--- utterly shocked.

What---what- where did it even-?

“Not safe. Had it been an older model, I’d just pull the battery out, but these damn smartphones are impossible to open quickly,” Walker complained as if her words made any sense and as if she had a reason to complain.

Why would she even need to remove the battery?! How--- she just cut you off from Steve!

You stared at her, unable to form words, too many frantic thoughts bouncing off in your aching skull.

“What-“ you lamely breathed out, bewildered, freaked out and thoroughly exhausted.

“We’re the good guys, I promise. Which is why I’m sorry about this,” the blond spoke again, softer than before.

You barely had the time to process that she was reaching behind her back before a brief pain stung your neck, the world spinning faster and faster, darkness closing off your vision… and then it swallowed you whole, the last thing you felt being the backrest against your temple.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 3

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Well, that went off rails quickly. That’s Chuck to you.

I promise things will start making sense... in the meantime:

Excuse my lacking action writing skills, it’s been a while.

Thank you for reading!

[fanficshiddles]

Good or Bad?, One shot

Summary: Angela Burr sends her niece into a party that Roper is holding at a fancy hotel, to get close to Jonathan Pine to relay any important information. Unknown to her that Jonathan is rather enjoying the luxurious lifestyle…

Warnings: Rape/non-con.

-

I couldn’t believe that my Auntie was sending me in to a well-known dangerous man’s party. Heck, he was the most dangerous man there was.

But here I was, dressed up nicely and with a drink in hand in the flash hotel, waiting to try and get her undercover man, Jonathan Pine, alone so I could get information to pass on. She said I would know him as soon as I laid eyes upon him. Handsome, everyone was attracted to him, charming and such a gentleman, were her exact words.

I was a bit dubious and would’ve preferred a proper description. But heck, I knew exactly what she meant when I laid eyes upon him.

Getting him alone was going to be difficult, he had no idea who I was. I didn’t even know who I was supposed to be, really. How she got me into the party, I had no idea. I didn’t want to ask, as I didn’t particularly want to be here in the first place.  

But with a bit of luck, I caught his attention as I passed by to get another drink. When I was waiting at the bar, he came up beside me.

Wanting to get it over with, I quickly glanced around to make sure there was no one else in earshot.

‘Uhm… Angela Burr sent me. I’m her niece.’ I said quietly as I turned to him.

His eyes widened a bit, then he put his hand out to me. ‘I’m Andrew Birch. Nice to meet you, darling.’ He smiled charmingly as I shook his hand. Then he leaned down to me and whispered in my ear. ‘Not here.’

His large hand gripped my upper arm and he led me quickly through the party, out into the garden and down towards a gazebo that was set up for the barbecue later. But it was empty for now.

He let out a sigh of relief when we slipped into the gazebo.

‘You need to be really careful, darling. Roper has ears everywhere.’ Jonathan said softly.

‘Yeah, I figured that. I’m not too pleased about being sent in here, but I was due my Auntie a favour.’ I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest.

Jonathan leaned back against the table and smiled at me kindly. ‘It is a dangerous thing to do, you’re brave to agree. Whether you owe her a favour or not.’

‘I know… Now, let’s just get this over with. What do I need to know to pass on?’ I asked.

‘There’s a big deal going down next weekend, here’s a list of names of everyone involved. There’s also a price list there, too. Just so she can get an idea of the scale of it all.’ Jonathan pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to me.

‘Thanks. At least I don’t need to remember a long list of names this way.’ I laughed, putting the envelope into my bag. ‘Angela asked me to check if you’re still ok? If you’re sure you still want to do this? She can pull you out anytime.’

‘I’m fine, thank you, darling. I’m so close, I am not going to back out now.’ He said determinedly.

I nodded. ‘Fair enough. You’re far braver than I ever would be.’

‘We better get back, before we are missed.’ Jonathan said, just as we heard footsteps coming down the garden path.

We could see through the gazebo sides it was Roper and one of his right-hand men, Frisky. They were coming right towards the gazebo.

‘Shit.’ Jonathan hissed. ‘Go with me on this, trust me.’ He said as he grabbed me and forced me over the table.

‘Jonathan! What!’ I gasped in surprise as he flipped my dress up, kicked my legs apart and moved in behind me.

‘Shhh, go with it. Or we will both end up dead.’ He growled in my ear as he folded himself right over me and started grinding against me.

He quickly unbuttoned his fly and pulled his cock out, to make it seem more realistic. I could feel it sliding against the backs of my thighs and my ass. Thank god I had knickers on… Although, it wasn’t exactly the worst position to be in with such a gorgeous man.

‘Andrew, where have you… Oh, Andrew. You naughty boy.’ Roper said as he and Frisky walked in on us.

Jonathan quickly straightened up and tucked himself away. I stood up straight and pushed my dress down, cheeks burning as I was a bit flustered. Which I realised, was exactly what Jonathan had been aiming for.

‘We were just, ah…’ Jonathan started sheepishly.

Roper put his hand up to stop him talking. ‘It’s clear what you were doing. Nice to see you’re finally getting some. This pretty bird caught your eye, huh?’ Roper winked at him, then looked me up and down, making me feel rather cheap and horrible.

There was just something about Roper, he was so clearly a man not to be trifled with. Scared the crap out of me, I couldn’t wait to leave.

Jonathan laughed and slid his arm around my waist and gave me a squeeze, he could tell I was scared.

‘I’ll leave you two to it, but don’t be too long. Jed has got the karaoke out, I know how much you like a good sing-along.’ He smirked at Pine.

‘Oh, uhm, I won’t be staying long. I need to get home, work in the morning.’ I said quickly.

Roper narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at me. ‘You can’t leave my old boy here hanging. Oh no, you’re staying. I’m sure Andrew wouldn’t mind sharing his room with you for the night anyway.’ Roper then headed off.

‘I can’t stay, Jonathan.’ I said in a panic once they were out of earshot.

Jonathan took my hands in his and looked me dead in the eye. ‘It’s ok, darling. You’ll be fine, just relax. He will get too suspicious if you leave, just play it out and you’ll be ok. You can sneak out during the night once everyone has gone to bed.’

He took my hand and gave me another reassuring squeeze, though I was far from ok.

As we headed back into the hotel, I tried to stop and back out again. But he kept me walking. ‘Just stick by my side, you’re safe with me.’ He whispered as we headed in.

I was introduced to the others, I tried to be brave and keep smiling, no matter how hard it was. I felt so sick, but I managed to refrain from actually being sick.

If I hadn’t been scared shitless, I might’ve been able to enjoy the lavish life style for the night. Even the food that was on the barbecue later in the evening was incredible.

Roper and Corky kept looking at me funnily, making me very uneasy. But Jonathan would put me a little more at ease when he would slip an arm around me. Or kiss me rather boldly, keeping up appearances. Though it had surprised me when he slipped his tongue into my mouth on more than one occasion.

At the end of the night, I had never been more relieved than I was when Jonathan took me to bed. His room was as expected, very fancy and expensive. It was bigger than my flat!

I sat down on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands.

‘Are you alright, darling?’ He sat down next to me and rubbed my back.

‘Yeah, I think so… Thanks for that.’ I said with a slightly shaky breath as I sat up straight and looked at him. ‘How long will I need to wait before I can leave?’

‘Let me check, stay here ok?’ He stroked my hair and when I nodded, he smiled and headed out of the room for a moment.

I took that time to check my phone, I had a message from Angela. Asking if I was doing ok. I quickly replied that I was fine, I had information for her and would send it as soon as I could.

By that time, Jonathan returned.

‘They seem to have all gone to bed. You are welcome to stay, if you’d like. Do you want another drink?’ He offered kindly, motioning to the mini bar.

‘I’m good, thanks. I don’t know how I’ve been able to stomach alcohol as it is.’ I admitted as I stood up to leave.

‘If you’re sure.’ He smiled.

‘I am, thanks… Be careful, Jonathan.’ I went over to him and wasn’t really sure what to do, so I just put my hand out and shook his hand.

‘You too.’ He said quietly as I headed for the door. ‘Though, you might want to re-think your decision.’

I frowned and turned back to him. ‘What do you mean?’

Jonathan was pouring himself a drink, he smirked and looked over at me. ‘I don’t think you want to leave. It might not be the best decision.’

‘Again, what do you mean?’ I asked, getting slightly irritated.

He shrugged and leaned against the desk, taking a sip from his drink. Not answering me. There was a weird, sudden shift in the atmosphere that made me feel very uneasy.

I’d had enough, I said bye again and this time I headed straight out the door. But as soon as I stepped outside, I was faced with Roper and his two right hand men. Frisky and Tabby.

‘Running away like a scared little kitten, now she got the cream.’ Roper grinned. ‘Or is this something else?’ He asked knowingly.

My eyes widened and I stepped backwards, but I bumped right into a very firm body. Jonathan. I turned to look up at him, pleading him with my eyes for help. But he had a wicked grin on his face as his long fingers circled around my wrist tightly, making sure I wasn’t going anywhere.

‘What… What’s going on?’ I looked between them all in fear.

‘I did tell you to stick with me, pet.’ Jonathan chuckled and smoothed my hair out of the way, then he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. ‘Now be a good girl and hand over your handbag to Tabby.’

Tabby stepped forward and put his hand out expectantly. My hand was shaking as I passed it to him. He fished around and pulled everything out, including the envelope that Jonathan had given me. At first I felt panic, for Jonathan too, but then when he opened the envelope and pulled out blank pieces of paper, I was so confused.

Roper took my purse and pulled out my driver’s license. ‘Who are you, exactly?’ He asked, studying it.

‘Angela Burr’s niece.’ Jonathan answered for me.

Why was he doing this? What the hell was going on?

‘Ah, that delightful intelligence officer who has been trying for years to take me down.’ Roper chuckled and pocketed my license.

My phone was then pulled out from my bag, Tabby dropped it and proceeded to crush it under his boot. I let out a small whine at that. And I couldn’t stop myself from shaking in utter fear.

‘Shhh, shhh, pet. You’re in enough trouble as it is, best you keep quiet.’ Jonathan purred, rubbing his thumb up and down my neck. He still had a firm hold of my wrist, too. Which I had a feeling would be bruised afterwards.

Roper sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘What to do with you? Hmm?’ He stared at me intently, I looked down as I couldn’t bare to keep eye contact with the terrifying man. ‘She’s been on your arm for the night, Birch. I’m going to let you decide what you want to do with her.’

I felt Jonathan squeeze my neck. ‘I want to keep this one. It’s about time I had someone to keep my bed warm.’ He growled and buried his nose into my hair.

I felt my stomach drop. At least being killed would’ve been an easier way out.

Roper laughed and patted Jonathan on the shoulder. ‘Alright, Birch. You can keep her. Make sure you inform her of the rules and consequences. She’s your responsibility now.’

Jonathan turned me around and pushed me back into his room, he kicked the door shut and locked it behind us. I made a beeline for the balcony, but the sliding doors were locked.

He chuckled as he followed me. I tried to run past him again towards the door once more, but he grabbed me and easily managed to over power me as he forced me down onto the bed underneath him.

His hands tugged and tore at my dress, making me cry out as I struggled against him.

‘No need to cry, pet. I can get plenty more pretty dresses for you to wear in the morning. In the meantime, you aren’t going to need any clothes.’ He growled and forced his mouth on mine, almost choking me with his tongue.

I cried and continued trying to hit him, but he flipped me over onto my stomach and with a hand at the back of my head, he forced my face right down into the bed. My muffled screams didn’t bother him at all as he continued to tear at my clothes until I was completely naked.

‘Ohhh, yes. How lovely, it’s been so long since I’ve had a good fuck.’ He took a fistful of my hair and tugged hard, forcing my head back as he pressed against me. I could just see his face at the side of me. ‘I bet your pussy is nice and tight, but it won’t be for long once I’ve had my way with you.’

My arms flailed about at my sides, but I couldn’t do anything from the position he had me in. It only got worse when he pulled his cock free and moved himself between my legs, forcing them wide open around him.

‘Please! Don’t do this! I won’t tell anyone anything, just let me go!’ I cried and begged, even muffled though he could make out what I was saying.

But he didn’t care. Not much of a gentleman at all, it was all a façade.

When I felt his fingers starting to stroke around my pussy I started struggling again anew, trying harder to get away. But he still had a tight hold of my hair and in response to my struggling he tugged hard, bending my neck backwards so I was forced to look at him from upside down.

‘You can struggle all you want, pet. You’re mine now.’ He rudely shoved two fingers into me, curling them and finding my g spot almost instantly. Making me curse him internally as my body started responding to him in a way I didn’t want it to.

And it only got worse when his thumb captured my clit.

Jonathan forced me to cum on his long fingers, making me whimper in defeat. I knew I was not going to get out of this, I wasn’t going to get an option at all. And he made it even clearer as he lined up with me and I felt his cock start to slide into me.

I tried clenching my muscles, to stop him. But it only fuelled him on more as he pushed harder, until he was deep within me. Where I really didn’t want him to be.

He forced my face back down into the bed, making it difficult for me to breathe as he started ramming into me like an animal in heat. Like it really had been a long time since he’d gotten laid!

He moaned and grunted like mad above me as he fucked me hard, his grip in my hair became tighter and tighter, if even possible. My scalp was burning so badly I felt like my hair was going to fall out.

Whilst I was terrified, angry, upset… My body was acting in ways it shouldn’t. It was reacting well to the assault, to the large cock that was currently filling me up better than anyone else had before. But I was still mortified and hysterical when he reached his peak inside me. I had hoped he might’ve at least pulled out, but no. He filled me with his seed, marking me from the inside.

And he marked me on the outside too, he bit down so hard on my shoulder. Making me cry out as his teeth sank into me roughly.

After having his fill, he pulled out and rolled off me to my side, panting in exhaustion. I was too scared to move at first, but then I managed to get myself together and I shot up, made a move to get off the bed.

‘Don’t even think about trying to sneak out, Tabby and Frisky are on duty all the time in the corridors.’ He warned me.

I paused with my legs over the side of the bed. Tears streaming down my cheeks. ‘Why?’ I asked, my voice hoarse from all the shouting and screaming.

I jumped when I felt his fingers trail down my spine. ‘Because you’re far too delightful to let go, pet. That’s why. And you know, this lifestyle is far too wonderful to let go... If you’re a good girl and learn to behave, you’ll soon learn that too.’

[roselarkiin]

Brettsey + 16 please!!

#16 "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?"

When Matt told Sylvie they were invited to spend the weekend at Benny's cabin with Stella and Kelly, she envisioned a quiet, relaxing weekend. She didn't think it would take too much convincing for Matt to spend their time away massaging her aching back or rubbing her swollen feet. This could quite possibly be their last weekend before she gives birth to their second child, and they become a family of four. She wants to take full advantage of that.

Though, it's quickly turning out to be anything but relaxing.

First, the drive to the cabin with two three-year-olds had not been pleasant. The second they dropped out of cell phone range, and Daniel Tiger stopped playing on Sylvie's phone, all hell broke loose, and it was non stop tantrums from both kids until they arrived at their destination.

Then once they arrived and were settled, Matt and Kelly announced their plan to take Esme and Ellie fishing the following day. Sylvie knew it would not end well.

Though their husbands insisted it would be fine. They'd spend the day on the lake, in the small boat Kelly kept at the cabin, teach the girls to fish, and it would be fun.

Stella and Sylvie knew different.

As they're getting ready to leave, Matt asks Sylvie one last time if she's sure she doesn't want to come with them. And Sylvie just raises a brow at him, looks down at what she's wearing; one of Matt's oversized shirts, sweats, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Practically her uniform since starting maternity leave. It's comfortable, but it doesn't exactly give off wanting to spend a day on the lake vibes.

Because spending the next six hours on an already cramped boat with two toddlers while she's eight months pregnant does not sound like her idea of a good time.

Sylvie doesn't tell him that, though, doesn't want to ruin his visions of this perfect day he thinks he has planned with their daughter. While she's planning how best to deal with the inevitable fallout. So she just shakes her head and tells them to have fun as she kisses them goodbye.

Matt presses a kiss to her stomach, murmurs something she can't hear to the baby, and the baby tumbles in her belly. His eyes go wide, and he laughs, has this look of complete awe on his face. The same look he always gets, no matter how many times he feels their baby move. Esme mimics Matt, kisses her stomach, and then they're out the door.

After saying her goodbyes to her husband and daughter, Sylvie settles into the chair beside the fire and picks up the book she's reading. This is her plan for the weekend, to put her swollen feet up and do absolutely nothing.

Stella offers to keep her company, acts like it's such a chore in front of Kelly, having to stay with the pregnant woman instead of spending the day with her husband and daughter. Sylvie snickers though and rolls her eyes at her friend when Stella flops down onto the couch before the door to the cabin is even closed.

"I give it three hours before it all goes to hell," Stella says.

Sylvie snorts, not looking up from her book. "They aren't even going to make it to two."

"I'm willing to take that bet. Four weeks of Saturday night babysitting, no questions asked?"

"Deal."

They shake on it before settling into a comfortable silence.

Their peace and quiet is short lived. About two hours after the little fishing expedition started, the door to the cabin slams open, and in stamps Sylvie's furious three-year-old, followed by her very irate husband.

Esme throws her coat onto the ground and flings herself into Sylvie's arms, buries her face in her neck. Sylvie resists the urge to tell her husband she told him so. Sylvie's not sure what happened, but when Esme gets in a mood like this, she knows whatever it is, their child is not going to bend easily.

Severide follows behind Matt, a sleeping Ellie in his arms. Sylvie and Stella share a look.

So it went well all around then.

Stella sits up, makes room for Kelly to sit beside her. "How long did that take?" she asks, nodding at the sleeping toddler in his arms.

He chuckles and pats Ellie's back. "Took all of twenty minutes for the boat to rock her to sleep."

Sylvie runs a gentle hand through her daughter's hair, runs circles over the girl's back. "Oh, Ez. What happened?" she asks.

"Daddy yelled at me. He's not my best friend anymore!" Ez cries against her shoulder. In her little three-year-old mind, her daddy no longer being her best friend is the worst possible insult she can think of.

Sylvie's eyes flicker over to Matt, and she can tell their daughter's words landed and had their intended effect on him. She sees a flash of hurt in his eyes as he looks at Esme before it's replaced with irritation again.

She gives her husband a quizzical look. He's frustrated with whatever happened, but it's unlike him to lose his cool with Esme. He rarely raises his voice with her. Sylvie knows he worries that he'll lose control of his anger like his own father. And even with her assurances that it won't happen, he always makes a conscious effort to treat Esme with tenderness, even when she's in trouble.

"What happened?" she asks again, directs the question at Matt this time.

He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose before pushing his hand through his hair. "Ez threw the rod into the lake," he growls, throws his hands in the air like he still doesn't believe it. "She announced she was done, and then she tossed it overboard!"

Sylvie has to bite her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Cause, yeah, that is definitely something she can see Ez doing.

Severide nods in her direction, clearly just as entertained by the whole thing as she is. "I got it on video."

"Thank you," she mouths at him over the top of Esme's head, and Stella snorts. Kelly already has his phone out of his pocket, holding it out to his wife before she even has a chance to ask, knowing exactly what she wants. Sylvie needs to get him to send her that video right now.

"It was a brand new rod, Sylvie," Matt exclaims.

"And it was a sparkly purple kids rod that cost $40. She was probably only going to use it the once anyway. It's not going to break the bank, Matt. That's not what this is really about, is it?" She holds her hand out to him, gestures for him to come to her. Because she's got Ez in her lap, and she's eight months pregnant. She is not getting out of this chair if she doesn't have to.

He crosses the room, sits on the arm of the chair. Just like she knew he would. Sylvie slides her fingers into his hair, uses her nails to massage his scalp. She knows he was excited for today and that he's disappointed Ez didn't like fishing as much as he thought she would.

She sees his shoulders relax, and Matt leans his head into Sylvie's hand. "I just wanted today to go differently, that's all." Sylvie nods. There it is.

"I know you did," she says, places her hand on his back. "But, babe, Ez is three. She can barely sit through an episode of Paw Patrol without getting bored. Don't you think that you might have had unrealistic expectations of what she's capable of today?"

He presses a kiss into her hair, and she doesn't need to look at him or even hear him say it to know that the gesture is his way of admitting she's right. He moves to the other side of the chair, crouches down beside Esme's face, caresses her little cheek with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I raised my voice at you, Ez."

Esme whines then, shrugs Matt's hand off her cheek. She turns her head away from him, tries to burrow herself further into Sylvie, as much as her pregnant belly will allow anyway.

"Aww, come on, Ez Pez." Matt lets out a low chuckle, pokes her shoulder. "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?" She nods against Sylvie's chest.

While Sylvie often finds herself thinking their daughter got the best of both her and Matt's personalities, it's times like this when she realizes they also passed on some of their worse qualities. Esme's tendency to be a little obstinate - okay, a lot - she gets from Matt (no matter what he says). The flair for the dramatics comes from Sylvie.

Sylvie brushes Ez's hair off her face. "Daddy can be silly sometimes, huh?" she whispers in her ear, and Esme nods. "Do you think maybe you should accept his apology?"

She scrunches up her face, looks over at Matt, and then back to Sylvie. "Do I have to?" she mumbles defiantly. Sylvie laughs, kisses her daughter's forehead, and reminds her to be kind.

"Do you think I can make it up to you?" Matt asks, and Esme just shrugs her little shoulders.

Matt pouts, and Sylvie can't help but roll her eyes at him. It's clear he's getting a little desperate when their daughter won't budge. Ez has always been such a daddy's girl that he doesn't know what to do with himself when she's angry at him and he's not the favorite. He hates it, and he's not against using bribery to win back their daughter's affection.

He tries again, gives it one last ditch effort to get her to forgive him. If this doesn't work, nothing will, and he'll just have to wait until Esme forgets about it. That usually takes a couple of hours, always filled with Matt's sulking, and then everything goes back to normal.

"Hey, Ez, what do you say we go for a drive into town? We can get some ice cream," he tries eagerly. Then, in an instant, Esme launches herself out of Sylvie's lap into Matt's arms. His arms fly up, wrap around her waist to catch her.

It's comical, really, just how fast she forgets that she's trying to stay mad at him.

"Can I get a really big one?" Esme asks, throwing her arms wide.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Matt says teasingly.

"Please, Daddy. Please," she begs, drags the words out in a long whiny way. She clasps her hands together under her chin and bats her eyes at him. She learned that from Sylvie.

"Okay, but don't tell mama," he whispers conspiratorially, winks at Sylvie over Esme's shoulder.

"If you're going out, could you bring me back some Oreos?" Sylvie asks, flashes him a bright smile.

Matt smiles back at her and places his hand on her stomach. "Baby craving?" Sylvie nods, covers his hand with her own. "What's the feel for today?"

Sylvie thinks for a moment before answering, "Boy."

"Nah, definitely another girl," Matt says. "What do you think, Ezzy? You're the tiebreaker. Are you getting a brother or a sister?"

"Sister!" she answers from Matt's arms.

"See, you're outnumbered. Definitely a girl."

Sylvie laughs and shakes her head. "If only it worked that way. Besides, that doesn't count!"

"Why?" Matt protests. "Just because Ez sides with me?"

"No, because last week she wanted the baby to be a puppy."

Matt laughs out loud at that. "Wouldn't that be something!"

Esme starts to get impatient, and she fidgets in Matt's arms. "Daddy, can we get ice cream now?"

Ellie lifts her head and chirps from Severide's lap, "I want ice cream."

"That you wake up for?" Severide gives Ellie an incredulous look, tickles her sides until she laughs. "Guess we're tagging along then."

"Matt?" Sylvie calls, just as he's almost out the door again. He turns back to look at her. "Can you get some pickles too? The round ones already cut for sandwiches?"

He makes a face like he knows what she's planning to do with the pickles and the Oreos. "If I have to watch you eat that, I'm going to be sick," he deadpans. He's guessed correctly.

"Don't watch then," she says, as if it's the most obvious answer, and she laughs at the disgusted look he sends her way.

[fyodorsslut]

Wrists- Bakugou Katsuki

Requested by: @toomanyotpslove​

 A/N: both of us can’t remember what the request was sadly, but I still have the story and find it very much worth publishing!! So, here we are! It’s not the type of thing I’d usually write, honestly, but I tried

AU: Fantsy!Au

Pairings: Dragon Lord! Bakugou x shape shifter! fem! reader

Genre: Fluff, some angst (?), comfort

play: Particular Taste by Shawn Mendes

Warnings: Not proof read, mention of physical abuse, child abuse, blood, mention of killing, reader triggered, enslaving, dehumanizing, bruises

He learnt to never touch her wrists.

  So, when he accidentally pulls her back by her still-bruised wrist, her reaction doesn’t surprise him too much.

  When Y/n jumps back, startled, clutching onto her wrist like she’s doing it for dear life, with her mesmerizing y/e/c eyes shot awide, Katsuki isn’t even surprised. A good 12 years of living with her have taught him this much, at least.

  “I-I’m sorry,” he coughs vaguely, gulping and watching out for any sign of an abnormal reaction. Even though it’s been long, Y/n’s mentality isn’t that stable and any small trigger could be like a bomb, and the explosion is her turning into some animal and losing control over herself.    “It’s alright,” Y/n sighs, rubbing  a thumb against her wrist.

  “You sure?” with a little tilt of his head, Katsuki takes a closer step towards scared Y/n. “You good?”   “Yeah,” she smiled, nodding. It took a lot of Katsuki not to push further. Instead, he nods in concern, wary of the apology he now owes her

   A few years back, or so he recalls, was when he met her.

                                              (12 years ago)

  The shore was so thick with humid, too much humid he couldn’t breathe properly. His small, bare arms prickle with the sensation of moisture, minuscule droplets too small to see dancing over his skin. The 6 years old boy stretches a little, moving his fingers in tiny circles, stirring up the cloying warmth hanging over the seashore.

  Sniffing, he grimaces, the light breeze smells of fires doused by the passing rain. His small features scrunch, the kid at the castle, went out fishing or such. Instead, he was here, with his parents and some lieutenants, checking on what’s coming in and out the country.

   Dazing away from his parents, he runs a hand through the flowers blooming from boxes along the pathway. The dirt around them is still wet from the passing rains and a particularly exuberant gardener. Behind him, more flowering veins run  up the brick walls and rocks, these people love there flowers. The explode in various shades, thriving in this climate-

  That’s when he spots it. Her

  A few men bulk up, trying to casually hide it, tensing at the presence of the king and queen, clearly not have been expecting it. But, from the heir’s vantage point, he saw the girl clearly, Bruised, chained up so movement is very uncomfortable. Some leather, cage muzzle sat disturbingly on her mouth and wrapped around her head. With clearly barely any movement, the girl’s body could go through so much harms, aside from the position she’s sat in.

  It’s almost terrifying, goosebumps crawling up the young boy’s body.

  “Katsuki?” A gentle voice calls for the ash blonde. He slightly flinches, ripping his gaze off the girl in chains. He looks at his mother in a frightened manner.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Shakily, he points a weak finger towards the cage.

  Holding a hand out, he manages to pull the abashed girl out. She has an air of misuse and neglect. Skinny and barely able to balance her weak form on her own.

  Katsuki softly takes the muzzle off. He smiles at the face in front of him, only to be met by wide eyes and trembling lips.

  “Are you okay?”

  Flinch.

  A small hand grips into the back of his dress shirt. A certain body’s heat closing up to him.

  “She won’t do anything, not even eat. She spoke no words, and is continuously clenching onto the prince.”

   Young Katsuki didn’t understand what was going on as the nurse spoke to his mom. A clan murdered? People... haunted? He didn’t mind her huddling onto him the way she did. He heard she’s a shape shifter, what is that? 

  “Shipped, enslaved, and sold in the black market. She’s a special, these ones cost a fortune there.”

  He didn’t understand, sure. But he still knew whatever this girl has been through, it’s trauma. He knew that from how the words sounded, and from the look on his mother’s face, he’s never seen her more disgusted his whole life, not even when he eats his mucus.

   He glances at her, bruises clouding her freshly cleaned cheeks, one eye purple. Her arms and hands were the same, too. When her eyes catch his, she looks down immediately, pulling away as an embarrassed red paints her cheeks.

   “Katsuki...” The king slowly kneels before his son. “What do you think?”    “What do you mean?” He raises a light eyebrow, confusion written on his face with wide letters.

   The king glances over to his prideful wife, who only softly shrugs, both unaware of what to do with the girl who could’ve possibly ended up reduced to some lifeless corpse in a few more days of starvation. They don’t get to ask Katsuki more than he’s already done; finding the girl. Yet, it seems as though the almighty king and queen, for the first time, are out of any other options.

  “Would you mind staying with her until we figure out how to help her do things on her own?” His brunette father spoke gently, simplifying the words so that the young, stubborn prince could understand much of it.

   “I’m not a kid,” He huffs, annoyance unjustified. “Of course I’ll help her around. That’s my job.”

  A scream erupts from her lips before she could help it. Her eyes immediately shot shut as she holds out her arms in defense, ready for the punishment for being so loud.

  “Hey, easy there,” The man at the infirmary smiles gently at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “She doesn’t want anyone touching her wrists,” Katsuki confirms, watching over them closely like an examiner over a test. The doctor helping figure out her bruises as y/n flinches like a spooked animal.    “Manacles trauma,” he nods. “These monsters really did their business.”

  “Katsukiiiii,” she whines, helplessly running. “Slow down a little!”   “Not a chance!” Her friend chuckles aloud, tugging at the blindfolded girl’s hand as his legs take off, fleeting against the floor of the castle.

   He comes to a sudden stop, pulling Y/n to stop too. 

  “Why’d you stop?” she questions, tightening her grip over his small fingers.    “Shh, we’re here,” he talks, smiling agape as attempts to control his uncontrollable excitement.

  His hand leaves hers, clutching on to the blindfold at the back of her head. Swiftly, he rids her of the void she was staring into.

  The sight she was outlet into was like an ambush to her feelings. Unable to form any words or create a reaction other than a stuttered “is this for me?”

   “Do you... yes! It’s yours! Do you like it?” The young ash blonde asks excitedly, watching over the girl’s reaction. “It’s even right next to mine!” 

   She turns to him, tears filling her pretty y/e/c eyes. Before he realized it, she’s pulled him into a tight embrace, sobbing for some reason unbeknownst to him.

  “Thank you.”

                                   ( Back to the present )

   “Can we go back inside now?” He felt her breath before he heard her voice, straight up nauseous from the amount of people gathered up in such feast.

  “Yeah, sure, whatever,” he grumbles under his breath. He sounds annoyed, but it’s no sweat for his lover to slip past his well-made façade.

  “Thank you, Katsu,” She presses a soft kiss on his cheek. Even though he knows no one saw, due to their position at the far corner of the room, his cheeks rise a flame. He immediately grimaces, you could practically see steam fuming from his ears as he, without any ado, stomps inside puling  the girl alongside.

  “I sure hope you have a proper explanation for that, princess,” He folds two strong, muscular arms onto his bare chest. The multiple necklaces and animal teeth almost scrambling away from his arms.    “Explanation for what?” Y/n raised a brow, playing dumb. She smiles softly, twirling a lock of y/h/c hair around her index finger, knowing damn well the practiced act does the trick.

  “Tch,”he rolls his eyes. Only throwing himself on the couch. “Sit here, idiot,” he pats the spot beside him in a soft manner, indicating he’s about to start a sensitive conversation.

  Gracefully, Y/n places herself on the couch, placing he r head on Katsuki’s broad shoulder. His arm wraps around her waist like it always does, scooting her closer as it finds rest on her thigh ((stfu-)).

  “This morning you were... crying?” He spoke softly, unable to find the perfect way to speak in this specific situation.

  Y/n takes a deep breath, fingers fidgeting with Katsuki’s fingers. “Nightmares,” she admits.   “The same one?”   “I think,” she shrugs, gulping. “I can only remember the faces of.. you know.”

  By the way her fingers slightly squeezed his, Bakugou knew he should stop the conversation there.

  “Don’t worry,” his voice was so, very low she could barely hear him. He presses a tender kiss on the top of her head, letting his lips take the weight of her whole  head, finding rest at that spot. “No one will harm you as long as I’m here,” his voice sent slight vibrations through her head, as he inhales the familiar scent of her hair. “And you know I’m too stubborn to die, anyway.”

  “Wow, very comforting, Katsuki,” she chuckles, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.   “Shut up,” he blurts, flustered.    “I love you too, Katsu,” She held his hand with both hers, printing continuous pecks on it.

  His hand grips her cheek, the other gripping the opposite.  Fixing his seating, he pulls her face upwards, planting a firm and fiery kiss that’s too short for her liking on her soft lips.

  Unlike the rest of the shapeshifters, and unlike most of the the population she lives amongst in this country,  Y/n’s a soft, curious soul. Not made for a harsh living or to be put against anything. Yet, the fire in her only ever lured people, the difference in her. Of all people, the heir to the dragon throne, Katsuki Bkugou. 

  “Fuck you for being like this,” his ruby eyes bore into hers, unable to find a single flaw.

  Both the kids’ hearts raced in their chests.

   He learnt to never touch her wrists, instead, he touched her soul to anchor her

[wrenhyperfixates]

I’m Here For You

Pairing: teen!Loki x female teen!reader (platonic) Summary: Loki comforts you when he finds you crying over school. Warnings: none :) A/N: Here you go nonny! In my head the reader has a tiny crush on Loki, but this can be read as an entirely platonic relationship. Hope you like it :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02​ @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​ @laurenandloki​ @fallinallinmendes​ @sophlubbwriting​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Reincarnations were a pesky business, really. Loki had been through it more than enough times to know. Unfortunately, his latest one didn’t go exactly as planned, and he’d ended up a kid. It wasn’t all bad, though, as now he had happy childhood memories. He still had the old, haunting ones too, but he no longer viewed youth with nearly so much disdain.

For the past number of years, he’d been living in the Tower with Tony, who he called his uncle but really was more of a father to him than Odin ever was. Thor dropped in fairly often too, and their brotherly bond seems to have benefitted from the little reset Loki went through.

Life on Midgard was different than Asgard, especially when he wasn’t being raised as royalty. Admittedly, he enjoyed the more laid-back life. He took walks in the parks, hung out with friends, went to the mall, and attended school just like everyone else. Ok, maybe not exactly like everyone else, considering he did still have thousands of years of knowledge.

Anyway, he was in his last year of high school, with only a few months left before graduation. Most of the people he knew were obsessing over their next step in the journey of life: college. Not him, though. For once, he was living for himself, and decided to take a gap year. College would still be there after. That is, if he wanted to go at all. Again, he did still have his old memories, so maybe he’d never even feel the need to. Maybe he could just travel the world helping others or work with Tony in the lab. Either way, he wasn’t in any particular rush to figure it out.

Loki was about to head into the renowned Tower he called home when he swore he heard sobbing coming from somewhere. He shoved his keycard back into his messenger bag and walked around the small campus to where he thought the sound was coming from. Stopping in front of some bushes, he saw the outline of a girl hunched up into herself through the leaves. The young god cleared his throat to alert her of his presence, which prompted her to quickly stop making noise. Though, he still could see her body convulsing from the now stifled sobs.

Sighing, he sat on the ground. “Hey, is everything alright back there?” No reply. Maybe it was more than just embarrassment stopping them. Maybe they also weren’t supposed to be here. He decided to try to lighten the mood with some playfulness. “You know, Tony doesn’t mind people being on the campus, but I gotta warn you, he’s kind of cheap with tissues he buys. I’m thinking of getting a handkerchief. What do you think? Is it possible to make me look any dorkier than I already do?”

That earned him a light chuckle. “You don’t look dorky at all. Like ever.”

He startled and said your name, not having realized it was you back there, but recognized your voice. “Is that you? Hang on, I’m coming back.”

You were Stark’s newest prodigy intern. He’d started the program a few years ago, giving some kids an inside look and experience in the tech field. This year, your application had been chosen out of thousands. You were a bright teen, so it made sense to Loki. He’d talked to you a few times before, but the conversations were incredibly short as you were extremely shy, barely even lasting two full minutes. Still, he’d been sure to give you a wave and a smile when he came across you, but it didn’t really ever do anything to help you out of your shell.

After crawling through the greenery, he plopped down next to you in the small, squished space between the bushes and the building. You’d scooched over a little so there would be room for him. He hated the way you were still holding in your cries.

“It’s alright. Just let it all out, ok?” he hesitantly said. That seemed to be all the encouragement you needed before your tears took over again. Slowly, so you could pull away if you wanted to, Loki wrapped you in a hug. When you calmed down, for real this time, he finished rubbing a last few large circles on your back before pulling back a little to look at you. “Feeling better?”

You nodded. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” he parroted back in question. His thumb caught one of the last tears trickling down your cheek. “Whatever for? There is no need to apologize for having emotions.”

“Your shirt,” you sniffled.

He looked down to see it was, in fact, wet from your tears. He just shrugged. “I’ve got more. Besides, it’ll dry.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“No worries, kid. Want to come in now? I could make you some tea or coffee or hot cocoa or whatever. Name it.”

“Can I have some cocoa? I-if it’s not too much trouble,” you mumbled, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“Of course! And you know I was kidding about the tissues, right?” he chuckled, fishing a pack out of his bag.

Once you’d cleaned yourself up a bit, the two of you crawled out from your hiding place, Loki offering his hand to help you stand. Then he led you up to the kitchen to get your drink. Tony would have had no problem with you using the kitchen—or any of the rooms in his home, really—but you were too nervous to overstep and never actually did. You were both seated with mugs of the thick, steamy, chocolaty liquid before Loki tried to find out what was wrong.

“So. What’s up?” he began.

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine,” you replied with a falsely bright smile.

“Kid, I know a thing or two about crying. You’re not fine.” You ducked your head in shame, and he was quick to clarify himself. “And that’s not a bad thing! You’re  human, you have human emotions. No one’s ok one hundred percent of the time. And... And you don’t have to talk about it, but maybe you should. It might make you feel better. So, if you want to, I’m here.”

“It’s stupid,” you shook your head with a wry laugh. Your lip was quivering, more tears threatening to spill. “School is stressing me out.”

“That’s not stupid, it’s how you feel. And, might I add, it’s perfectly understandable and valid. I mean, not only are you trying your best there, but you also come here every day for your internship. Norns, you must be freaking Supergirl or something.”

You chuckled at the colloquial from his home world. “I dunno about that now. It just... It seems like no matter what I do, I’m not good enough. I don’t have the best grades, or the most friends, or the prettiest looks, or the greatest anything, really. Ugh, it all just feels so pointless sometimes.”

“You know what? You’re right. It does all feel pointless. But it’s not. Don’t get me wrong, school doesn’t measure how smart you are; it measures how good you are memorizing stuff and taking tests. Which is incredibly frustrating! But it helps you explore some subjects and have fun with the friends you do have. The most important thing it does, though, is teach you perseverance. Like we said, school’s hard. But you keep trying, no matter what. And I see a smart, talented, beautiful young girl before me. Your feelings are valid, but don’t let them consume you. Trust me, you have a lot to be proud of.”

Loki picked at his nails while you stared at your mug, mulling over his words. He worried he said something wrong or overstepped in some way, but he’d been where you were not too long ago.

“Thank you,” you finally said. “I don’t think I can just fix everything overnight, you know? But what you said really does mean a lot.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Loki responded with a warm, friendly smile. He took a swig of his own drink, choosing his next words carefully. “No one should expect you to fix anything that fast. As long as you’re trying, you’re doing something right. A lot right, actually. You deserve breaks too. And if you ever need someone to vent to or whatever, I’m here.”

“Thanks again. And I’m here for you, too.”

He gave you a natural, lopsided grin as the two of you exchanged numbers. He was glad to see you were much more at ease, though still considerably shy with him. Still, he could imagine you becoming more bold as your friendship blossomed. You timidly ducked your head when Tony walked in.

“Oh no. You better not be turning her to the dark side,” Tony teased as he made himself a cup of coffee. “I’ve had enough pranks for a lifetime.”

“Relax, Uncle Tony. I haven’t recruited her for any mischief... Yet,” he joked back with a wink in your direction, causing you to giggle behind your hand.

“Whew, that’s a relief. Well, if you two aren’t plotting my untimely demise, feel free to head to the lab whenever you want, kid.”

“Actually, I’m good to go now, Mr. Stark.” You stood up and grabbed your bag from beside your chair where you’d left it earlier. “Bye, Loki. Talk soon! And, uh, thanks again.”

With one final smile, you scurried off to your destination. Loki smiled back and waved as you left, feeling some sense of hope and direction bloom in his chest. You’d given him an idea.

“Hey, Uncle Tony. I was thinking, how would you feel about another Stark Industries youth program?...”