#BUT the music was still good i danced i am only slightly tipsy i am capable of having a good time while drinking i am capable of self contro

[luciality]

epic nite of sushi and drinks and dancing

[therapycat21]

All Right Now Part 2

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description:The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None Social Media AU

It’s been a week since the incident at Arrowhead and Travis is still actively liking my posts but has not reached out yet. I'm taken from my thoughts by an incoming call from my manager Stacy.

“Hey y/n” she smiles brightly into the screen at me “hey, whats going on?” I ask her “they just had a major cancellation for the arrowhead stadium and need someone who can quickly put something together, they reached out so I thought I would check with you to see if you are comfortable doing this last minute?” I haven't done a concert in a while so why not I thought “yeah I can figure something out, when is it?” I ask her smiling.

“It’s gonna be this Saturday” she let’s me know before we talked a bit more before hanging up. I then open Instagram to start making a post to announce it to the fans.

Not even a second after posting it went viral and started to trend on twitter. I then get a notification

Killatrav added your post to their story!

I clicked on the notification to see he did indeed add my post to his story with the caption. "Tickets have been bought ;)" I blush before liking the story and decided to look through his account, it only consists of ads, and funny clips from a podcast he has with Jason, and pictures of him dressed really nice. I decided to like his recent posts and click my phone off before I do anymore damage. I guess I'm performing at the stadium now. I smile before I rush off into contacting everyone for the concert.

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

Saturday Morning

The day is finally here, I've been up since 5 am getting myself together to head over to the stadium for the show tonight, trying to remember the setlist and dance moves. Stacy knocks on the room door in the stadium "everything is all set, you ready?" she questions knowing I can get really bad nerves before a show. I smile, it reaching my eyes for the first time in a long time "surprisingly I am"

I laugh “okay good, I’m gonna go and head to my seat, you’re gonna do amazing” she tells me before reaching to open the door. Before she leaves she quickly lets me know “oh by the way, kylie, Jason, and Travis are here in the V.I.P box.” she smirks at me before finally closing the door. My face formed into shock knowing they actually came, especially Travis, I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves

“You’re gonna do amazing”

“You always kill it”

“You've worked hard to get here”

I keep telling myself the three before I’m interrupted by the door opening and them letting me know it is time for me to start heading to the stage.

I quickly start to head over to the stage and see all of the dancers starting to get into position, I can hear the crowd starting to scream from the lights starting to move, I’m then handed my microphone and decide to talk to them before they can see me

“let’s talk some nonsense yall”

I hear the crowd scream even louder before I’m finally revealed. I smile brightly “hello my loves” I laugh before the intro to my son nonsense comes on. Every time I sing this song I always make up a new outro depending on the state I’m in. We’re now near the end of the song, and they turn the music down slightly so we can hear the fans better

“How quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz” I smirk slightly before turning to where I see Travis staring at me smirking “raise your hand if you’re a little tipsy, sex with me is like joining the swim team, Travis is my favorite Kansas City” I blush profusely from him breaking out into laughter and seeing the blush rise on his face. The crowd screams even louder now knowing he’s there.

I see the crowd now facing up where the Kelce family is and taking pictures and videos. I laugh loudly into the mic before transitioning into the next song.

I can feel his eyes on me the entire show and for some reason my confidence was skyrocketing tonight and I didn’t hide that I was looking back at him with the best sultry look I could muster up. The show is now ending and the stage goes black before soft pink hues go through the stadium and the back screen lighting up with my new album announcement.

I hear the crowd scream even louder before saying my goodbyes and running off stage.

I reach the back where Stacy and Brittany are and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my adrenaline "you were absolutely amazing, oh my god you killed it" Brittany says running up and pulling me into a hug. I hug her back before I'm pulled into another hug by Stacy "You did so good girl!" I thank them both before we're interrupted by security.

"Miss y/n? there is a Kylie Kelce here wanting to see you, she says she's your friend?" I smile brightly at the security guard Jared "oh yes please bring her and the family back please." Jared gives me a brief nod before walking away to allow them in.

"you know that means Travis is gonna come back too right?" I can hear the smirk on Brit's face, I give her a look "yes I know, but for some reason tonight I am feeling good and confident, that has not happened in a long time especially towards a man." I reply with a teasing smile.

We’re interrupted by the door opening and Kylie slightly jogging to me with both girls with her.

When she gets close by we pull each other into a hug with the two girls trying to hug my waist. I let her go then bending down to pull both girls into a hug “hello my pretty mama’s ” I kiss both of their heads before letting go and standing straight to also greet Jason “you were absolutely amazing mama” Jason tells me pulling me into a deep hug, he is literally a bear. He lets me go, walking around to sit with kylie and the kids. 

I’m then faced with a smirking Travis “I liked the shout-out” he tells me, I smile bright but with a giant blush rushing through my face “I thought you would” I smirk back at him.

He looks over at the others before moving slightly into more of my space, me having to look up pretty far to see his face “if you want I can show you how much of your favorite I can be” he almost whispers to me with him leaning slightly down with a giant smirk. If I thought I was blushing a lot before it is even worse now. I try to calm myself before replying “I bet you could” I try to whisper back, looking up at him smirking.

“So tomorrow night at 6:30?” he asks smiling “pick you up?”

I look back slightly at Brittany, her giving me a giant teasing smile and a thumbs up, I turn back 

“Definitely” I smile bright.

Like my writing? buy me a coffee! I would be so grateful!

[issatalk]

Courage

paige bueckers x reader

fluff

prompts:

childhood friends to lovers

taking care of a drunk paige

“with her hand around my waist and all the music and lights, mannn i don’t even know where i am, but one thing i do know is that i will dance on her until i can’t move for the night” i heard the woman say as she came near my table to sip on her drink after her and paige were basically grinding on the dance floor. the place was so crowded and truthfully i don’t know if it was the alcohol or if i was just extremely jealous that paige, the paige i have had feelings for for years is letting another girl dance on her as i am sat watching the scene.

after some time of their dirty dancing and dreading eye fucking, paige came to the team table. she was messily walking over us and oof was that girl wasted, i can’t believe she got this bad “ hey can you give me another dirty shirley temple ” she told ice with a small grin in her face that made it so obvious the state she was is. that was our queue to leave, everyone in the team was tired of dancing and occasionally drinking. i myself only had some tequila lemonade so i wasn’t really tipsy or anything but some of these girls were going to need so lots of coffee and good aspirin in the morning

inês was the most stable of them all, she wasnt much of a drinker and went for light beverages. we had called an uber for some of the girls while other came in their own cars, after sending a couple of girls in each ride, aaliyah decided she would be driving. even tho it was paige’s car, she was in no state to drive it, so it went, inês, paige and i along with aaliyah in the car. me and paige went on the backseat i

as i was taking care of her just to make sure she didn’t puke in the car or do dumb shit. aaliyah turned her playlist up making this quite a party since everybody was screaming the lyrics. as some quieter songs came on paige started laughing silently, making me a bit annoyed since she was extremely talkative and touchy when she was drunk. she was constantly poking your face and laughing, i hate this part because it’s when all her hidden thruths come to light and you just never know if it is good or bad.

one time sophomore year you had taken her home after a big game win, the party was crazy, everyone cheered for her, at that point she was the party. but she’s a bit of a light weight so we constantly had to take care of her after her “fun nights”. you were laying her down in bed making sure she was cozy in her bed with enough heat and comfort from her blanket.

she was silently staring at you, once u got near to tell her good night and light off she started talking a lot. things you thought were nonsense since she was drunk, she had said that you had the most beautiful smile in the whole wide world as well along that you had the fattest ass in campus, you definitely laughed at the last one as it was unexpected but these little drunken words meant a lot to you specially since she had been your best friend since junior year of highschool and these drunken words have happened all these years . and this just went along, you never could get rid of that stupid crush you had on her in highschool which after some years turned into big feelings.

in the car paige was getting more confidence then usual, she started by slightly placing her hand on ur knee and after some time while everyone was still singing along, you feel as her hand was going further up into ur thighs, she was rubbing them at this point. she tried to get a little close to not only ur thigh but also down there. u panicked and quickly moved ur hand on top of hers moving it back up to your knee, you turned to look at her and all you could see in the minimum light of the night, were those beautiful blue eyes that made you squirm and go crazy at the tiniest contact, you saw that upturned nose that was ever so perfect and that smile that made you go crazy. finally realizing you were going to keep on suffering quietly if you never made a move.

morning comes and as extremely anxious as you are, you walked up to paige’s dorm with a coffee in hand to help her hangover after lasts night event. you knocked as kk opened up the door letting you in “girll who that coffee for? you better have 4 others in the car cause we surely need them” she said, making me laugh. i walked towards paige’s room opening the door seeing a quiet paige looking like life needs to be contemplated, she clearly had just woken up not many minutes ago, but damn she still managed d to look cute, even with a hangover.

“goodmorning p” you smiled handing her the coffee as her pearly teeth flashed a smile as she saw you “goodmorning love” that’s a new nickname… “so what’s are the plans for today? geno said practice is up until 5 so we got the whole morning” i said trying to wake her up “i think i might just stay in bed enjoying this beautiful coffee that the best person in the world just brought me” she said hoping everyone could hear her so they wouldn’t bug her “oh, well, can i stay with you for a bit?” “ yeah of course, i’m watching the new mario bros movie, so when i go back home i can make sure drew and i can talk about something he likes” it made me melt, i love how much love she had for her brother.

some hours later she fell asleep ,paige was resting in my chest as i tried to move as less as i could so i didn’t wake her up, but as it hit 2pm, amari came and yelled at her to get up. she groaned and tossed around the bed like a little girl making me laugh, she was just too adorable. yet it was time for me to tell her how i felt and if i didn’t do it now it would never happen.

still in her room i said with courage “hey paige” “yup” “ i need to confess to you that for a while i have had feelings towards you, i feel attracted by you as well as extremely grateful towards you, you have done so much for me and for that exact reason i am scared to tell, because i have no expectation on your reaction and i’m sorry if it makes it awkward between us but-“ as just like a cliché moment, the girl i died for since highschool was kissing me. it was a sweet and short kiss, i could sense a smile from both sides after we separated our foreheads from eachother. “god you don’t know how in love with i am do you? i’ve been dying to do they for years” she said in the breathiest voice, i just needed more. i kissed her again, i pushed her down on the bed as she took my waist ,pulling me closer to her so she could feel all of me. i was starting to go down to her neck but got scared as amari banged on the door again, making me separate from paige and making us get up. since that day and on i take courage in all of my decisions, knowing the consequences are fully mine, yet i’m ready to challenge them all. just for her.

thank you if you took the time to read this!! i hope you enjoyed it!!

this is slightly pazzi coded btw

[hope-drunk]

SO HOT YOU'RE HURTING MY FEELINGS

| you and abby broke up a month ago, she creates a plan to get you back.

| wc: 3.5k

| content warnings: 18+ MDNI! set in modern day, alcohol, f!reader, strap usage (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), pet names, abby's a little mean if you squint, a bit angsty, barely proofread.

| a/n: inspired by the song 'so hot you're hurting my feelings' by caroline polachek

You didn’t know much, but you did know one thing; Abby Anderson shouldn’t be messed with. You two had broken it off over a slight argument, you didn’t understand why she couldn’t see your side of the story and accept that you weren’t flirting back with her teammate. When you two had the argument over it, the floodgates opened, and you and Abby had laid it all out on the table. By the end of it, you had stormed out of her apartment and went back to yours, finalizing the breakup with a text. You hadn’t talked to her since. The ‘we’re over’ text had been left on read for over a month.

It didn’t stop the hurt though, you looked back through the messages everyday, even though they made you slightly cringe now. It had all been so simple. You spent every second together, and when you weren’t together, there were hundreds of texts to make up for it. You honestly didn’t know how you were still breathing, you missed her more than anything. The rage wore off after the first week, and you haven’t been able to bounce back. But tonight you were dragged to a party by your roommate, and you figured, why not, it was fine to get a little drunk to deal with your feelings every once in a while. 

The idea was that you’d be set free by the alcohol; to let loose a little. And you did! You had fun for a solid forty-seven minutes before the fun was disrupted. The second your and Abby’s song turned onto the loud speakers, you were done for. You walk off into the open bathroom and sit down onto the closed lid of the toilet. Your head falls into your hands. The song had sobered you up quick. You take your phone out of your skirt pocket to do what you usually do when you get reminded of Abby, ready to open the instagram app and scroll along her profile, and you would’ve been content doing that, until your phone lights up with a text from her. You open it immediately. 

“What the fuck?” You mumble. 

You scroll through the multiple photos she’s sent you; all of her at the gym, flexing her muscles. She starts typing, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

sorry, wrong person.

You can’t help the scoff that comes out of your mouth. “Seriously?” You say, again, only to yourself.

You don’t give her a response, simply setting your phone on the sink and rubbing a hand over your face. It’s like she knew. She knew you were tipsy and about to stalk her. She knew that you heard the stupid song that you danced around her apartment to. You swear it was a secret sense of hers. 

After about ten minutes, you go back out into the party; beelining for the alcohol table. You pour the liquid into a plastic red cup, estimating what you think would be a shot, and send it down the hatch. You were entirely too sober to deal with this situation.

“Hey there, you alright?” Your roommate yells over the loud music.

“She fucking sent me pictures, of her– of her muscles.” You say, now that you were standing, the alcohol started to have its effects again. 

“What? Seriously? I’m sorry. Why, exactly?”

“I don’t know, she said wrong person.” you try not to let the tears escape your eyes, not wanting to cause a scene.

“Okay, well, fuck. That’s kind of worse. Did you text her back?” She says, giving you a panicked look.

“Of course not, what am I supposed to say?”

“It’s gonna be alright, let’s just have fun, okay?” She smiles at you, trying to reassure you of her words.

You nod your head and she moves you back onto the dance floor. Again, with the alcohol in your system, you start to have a good time again. You dance and laugh and have fun; you don’t even check your phone. You don’t keep track of how much you keep drinking, but you’re sporting a hefty buzz by the time you sit down on the couch for a break. Your head spins as you pull out your phone to check the time. The bright 2:13 stares back at you, and then your attention is caught by a notification on your phone, Abby has refollowed you on instagram. You groan, hadn’t she done enough tonight? 

Suddenly, you felt the overwhelming urge to call her, even though you know you shouldn’t. You were doing so good, so good! And a few pictures and an instagram notification were enough to convince drunk-you that calling her was a good idea. You walk down the staircase of the apartment complex and go outside to the picnic table that sits in front of the building. You recognize some people from the party smoking, but you don’t pay them any mind. You open Abby’s contact on your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button. Should you really do this? Should you reopen this wound that you were working so hard to close? But on the otherhand, should Abby be allowed to fuck with you like this? No, no. She had to know that she needed to stop. You press the call button and bring your phone to your ear, listening to it ring.

She picks up after the third ring, “Um, hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I need you to stop. I don’t want to see pictures of you being hot at the gym and I don’t want you to follow me on instagram. We’re done, so I don’t know why you’d send me pictures and when I don’t respond you follow me again. I really– I can’t do this, okay?” You ramble into the phone, the alcohol gives you more courage than you would’ve had sober.

“Okay, well, the photos were an accident–”

“Bullshit,” you cut her off. “That’s bullshit. And I know it is, because I know you.”

“Are you drunk right now?

“I’m at a party, yeah. That’s why I need you to stop. I’m having fun.”

“I’m coming to get you.” You hear a muffled noise of bed sheets being pushed off her body.

“No, you’re not. You don’t know where I am.” You say smugly.

“You think I don’t get invited to the same parties that you do, sweetheart? I’m on my way.” Abby says, she hangs up the phone directly after so you can’t talk back.

You feel hot all over. The anger and the alcohol heat you up. You already regret the call, and now you have to deal with telling your roommate that Abby is coming to get you. You decide to text her instead of telling her to her face. The alcohol gave you confidence, but not enough to tell her that you were being picked up by the girl who’d left you bedridden for two days.

so, funny story, abby is on her way to pick me up, sorry. see u later ok?

You put your phone back into your pocket after sending the message, not daring to pull it back out once it starts vibrating. You sit on the table and wait for Abby’s car to pull up in front of the building. You will yourself to sober up before seeing her. You know that your mouth will betray you if you try to speak to her while you’re drunk. You also know that you won’t be as brave as you were over the phone. Talking shit behind the screen is one thing, but being face to face with Abby is another. She’s so intimidating, even now. Her height and her build, the calm expression she has on her face at all times. The most you could get out of her was a jaw twitch, and that was only if you had been arguing for a few hours. 

You hear her car before you see it; her brakes have always been squeaky. She pulls up fast, having to slam on the brakes to fully stop in front of you. It seems like she hasn’t forgotten her manners, because before you can open the door of her car, she’s getting out of the driver’s seat and opening it for you. Once you sit down, she even buckles your seatbelt. Honestly, she was making it really hard to stay mad. The action almost makes you cry again. 

She walks back to her side and gets in, putting the car in drive and speeding off. You turn your legs towards the door and put your chin in your hand. Abby scoffs at the childish action, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have music playing on the radio, so all you hear is the wind rustling through the open windows. Your hair flies back and forth, and you make a big display of trying to smooth it down. Abby's hair is always in a braid, so she doesn’t see a problem with driving like this.

Before you know it, you’re pulling into a parking spot at Abby’s apartment complex. This time you’re quicker than her, unbuckling the seatbelt and opening the car door. 

“I don’t want to come in.” You say. “I thought you were taking me to my place.” A lie, you figured she would bring you here, but you were scared to go in; scared of the memories it would bring up.

“You’re coming inside, so…” She trails off, waving her hand towards the door.

Your eyes well up, you look down at your feet so she doesn’t see. “Can you just take me home, please?” 

“No, get inside. We need to talk.” The voice she uses sobers you up quicker than anything else ever could.

When you walk into her apartment, you take a seat on her dark brown couch. She walks to the kitchen and gets you a bottle of water, taking the lid off and handing it to you once she’s back into the living room. She sits on a chair across from you, putting her elbows onto her thighs and watching you greedily gulp down the water. 

It does help your head feel a bit clearer, “Thank you.” You say to her.

“Let’s talk,” she says.

“About what, Abby?”

“About why we should get back together.”

You laugh at her, it’s loud and obnoxious; one only she could pull from you. “Why would we do that?”

“Because I know you, and I know you miss me. I miss you too. I miss having you here every second and I miss texting you when you’re not here.”

“Okay, so, that’s not how this is going to work. You can’t just say you miss me without addressing why we broke up in the first place.”

She moves her chair closer to you. “And why did we break up in the first place?”

You scoff, “Because you’re possessive, and you have a jealousy issue. I talked to Mara for three seconds and we had a three hour long argument over it.”

“You used to like how possessive I was, you said it was one of your favorite things about me.”

“I did like it, I liked it when you were subtle with it. What I don’t like is getting crucified for speaking to another girl.”

“Crucified, really? God, you’re fucking dramatic.”

You huff; take another sip of your water. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come in.” You mumble.

“Speak up for me, please. Y’know I hate it when you mumble.” Abby says, her patience running thin.

“I said that this is why I didn’t want to come in. I knew it would just be the fight all over again. I didn’t do anything wrong. She asked me how my classes were going, Abby.”

“Yeah, she also asked other girls on the team how serious we were, because she was trying to get in your fucking pants.” Abby snips, getting up out of the chair so that she can pace around.

Your mouth opens and closes. You hadn’t known that Mara was talking about you like that. She had flirted with you in the past. She was in your major, so you saw her around your lecture halls and at various parties hosted by other people you had in common. You had flirted back a few times, but it was nothing serious, just some fun banter at a few parties. She had stopped once you and Abby became official, so you thought that was the end of it. Obviously, it wasn’t.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I didn’t know that.”

“But you knew that she tried to before.”

“Abby, I’m serious when I say that nothing ever happened between us, and especially not when we were together. Do you actually believe I would cheat on you?”

Abby puts her hands on her hips and lets out a sigh, “No, I don’t.”

“So why did you fight with me over someone else’s actions?”

She sits back down in the chair. “I don’t know.”

You go and stand in front of her, she doesn’t look up at you, so you crouch down on the floor.

After a while, she speaks, “Maybe I do have a jealousy problem.”

You laugh, and she cracks a smile. “Yeah, I think you do.”

“I’m sorry, really.” She says, making sure to look directly into your eyes. “I mean it. I fucked up, but I wanna fix it. I do miss you, a lot.”

“I miss you too.” You admit. It’s quiet again, Abby brushes your hair off of your face. You can’t help but lean into her touch, her large palm is warm; it feels familiar, it feels like home. You blink up at her, “Are you going to admit that the photos were for me?”

She laughs and sniffles, you hadn’t even realized she had started crying. “Yeah, whatever. They were for you.”

You look down and laugh again. “God, I missed that sound.” Abby says.

She pulls you off the ground and places you in her lap. You touch your forehead to hers, staring intently into her eyes, her pupils seem to have expanded since earlier this evening, and you’re sure yours were just as large. You brush your nose against hers and lean your face down. If either of you were to twitch, your lips would touch.

“We gonna do this?” Abby says, barely above a whisper. Scared that if she talked louder you’d get spooked and run away.

“Make up sex sounds good to me.” You agree.

It feels like there’s a different Abby now. A hungry wolf that’s been waiting to be set free. She kisses you with such force that you move back on her lap. If she didn’t have her hands holding you up, you might’ve fallen off. Your hips grind down into her by instinct, trying to search for some friction to soothe the ache between your legs. Abby pushes your hips down onto her thigh and rolls them, forcing you to grind on the strong muscle. She doesn’t stop kissing you even for a second. You think if Abby had a superpower, it would be sex. 

Suddenly she’s standing, you wrap your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck; she still doesn’t break the kiss. She brings you into her bedroom, and you feel your eyes well up with tears. The wave of relief it sends through you is insane. You didn’t know if you’d ever be back in this room, under Abby. You didn’t know if you’d ever see her pillows or her closet again. It sounds silly, but you’ve truly missed everything about her.

She pulls away panting, “Why y’crying, baby?”

“I don’t know. Missed you; missed this room.”

She smiles and leans back down for a kiss, it’s less heated; more loving. She pushes the shirt you’re wearing up and places kisses down your stomach. You gasp as she lightly drags her tongue right above where your skirt starts. Your hips lift, urging her to take it off; urging her to get closer to where you need her.

“Gonna make it up to you, okay? Gonna make you feel so fucking good, not even gonna remember why we broke up.”

“Okay, please.” You say back to her. You place your hand on the top of her head, slowly unraveling the tight braid she has in. 

She doesn’t even take the time to take off the black maxi skirt you have on, just pushes it up your legs and takes off your panties. She stares at your cunt for a few seconds. You can feel her hot breath fanning over it. A whine falls from your lips; and suddenly she’s licking a stripe up your slit.

A moan comes from your chest. You haven’t been touched the whole month, not even by yourself. Every time you tried to masturbate, you just thought about sex with Abby, which only made you upset. You snap out of your thoughts when you feel Abby suck on your clit, it sends you reeling. You push her face further into you, and your thighs close in on her head. The noises you’re making are absurd. You’re sure her neighbors are going to leave a note on the door, but at this moment you couldn’t care less.

It’s embarrassing how fast the coil gets tight in your stomach.

“Fuck– Abby, think I’m gonna–” you can’t get a full sentence out. The words begin and end on your tongue.

She pulls her mouth away and presses her fingers into your clit, rubbing tight circles on it. “Already, bunny? Just got started.”

“I know.” It comes out whiner than you wanted it to. “I know, I’m sorry. Just feels so good.” 

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Come when you wanna, I’ll be right here.” Her mouth reconnects with your cunt.

You think it’s about ten seconds before you’re coming. You let the tears fall freely for the first time tonight. You feel so happy, your chest gets tight. Your hips grind into Abby’s mouth. She’s always been like this; staying latched onto your cunt until your orgasm is done. You cry out at the overstimulation once you’re back on Earth. She removes her mouth to shush you, pressing more kisses to your neck and moving your hair off of your sweaty forehead. Your head is reeling, your vision is blurry. 

Abby comes up and kisses you on your cheek. “You want the strap?”

A wave of arousal flows through you at the mention of it, “Would it be make up sex without it?” 

She laughs and gets off the bed, going to her closet to retrieve the box where it’s stored. She strips while she’s over there, and puts her clothes in the dirty laundry. Always so neat, can never have anything out of place. Once she gets it settled on her waist, she comes back over to you. 

“You ready, baby?”

You nod your head.

“Words, please.” She gives you a soft smile. “You forget your manners?”

“No,” you say, voice hoarse from the moaning. “I’m ready, Abby.”

She lines up the strap with your hole, and gently eases it in. You pant. You didn’t forget your manners, but you did forget how good the stretch feels. She bottoms out; the strap kisses the sweet spot inside of you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“Is this okay?” She asks. She’s staring down at where her hips meet yours and you can tell she’s fighting off the urge to thrust into you until you answer her.

“Yes, can you just– please move.” 

Abby doesn’t need to be asked twice. Her hips grind into yours with all the force in the world. You can tell that the strap is hitting her clit because of the grunts she’s letting out. The room feels humid at this point, and you’re sure it stinks of sex.

“You’re mine, yeah? No one else can ever have you.”

“You have–” you’re interrupted by a moan as she starts rubbing at your clit again. “You have a jealousy problem.”

Abby scoffs, “Gonna give me fucking attitude right now? When I’ve got my cock buried in this pretty little pussy?” 

You whimper at your words. You always get off on Abby telling you off. You love how dominating she is. You love watching her brows raise when you say something questionable. You can’t help but rile her up.

“You do, it’s bad. You need to work on it.”

“Stop being a brat and come on my fucking cock.”

Her words send you over the edge, this time further than you think you’ve ever been. She follows you soon after, keeping the strap buried in you while her orgasm washes over her. When you both come back, she’s fallen beside you, the silicone lays on the floor. She breathes deeply beside you. 

“So…” You say.

“So what, baby?” Abby says. She decides you’re too far away and pulls you into her chest.

“Are we back together?”

She laughs at you, really laughs. Like you’ve just said the funniest thing in the world. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

You start laughing too, “Well, I don’t know!”

“Yeah, we’re back together.”

Your smile widens and you hide your face in her chest, suddenly embarrassed by the question that slipped out. 

“Okay, well good.” You say.

You drift off like that, content to be back in Abby’s arms. Happy to be home.

[aggressivenesswhilecrying]

Drinking games

Summery:

When joel drags lizzie to the local club. She's never surprised she leaves alone, and normally she leaves early. The environment normally too active for her. Too overwhelming. To her surprise, she doesn't leave alone, and this time she leaves with someone just as overwhelmed.

Tw warning!! Drinking, not a lot, but still there!! Overestimating in the sensory not hot way

Not proof read or edited!!

(This is a fic for @mcyt-yuri-week, day 6!!)

Lizzie never liked the roaring music, and flashing lights. It never mattered to her really. She would rather be anywhere else other then a club. The hot, sweaty, mostly naked bodies, rubbing and dancing together. Flashy fabric colorful accessories. So much, in every corner. Lizzie looks to her husband, watching as he jokes, flirting with sausage. She can't help but chuckle, despite how overwhelming it is here.

Her nails tap on the side of wine glass. Half of a light 5 dollar cocktail sloshing around. Its good!! Tastes amazing!! don't get her wrong!! Just...she really isn't in the mood. Her tail flicks slightly as she sit at a table not too far from the bar. Taking a small sip for her drink.

Shelby with her well know witches hat, a black cocktail dress you see on every women in a normal bar, that always looks good. And large black platform boots. Lizzie has to admit, she not too opposed to the outfit. A purple belt around Shelbys waist, and a small black purpse keeps lizzies eyes trained on her.

She's holding a tumblr glass, of what seems to be some random booze. Lizzie smiles at her as the witch sits down at the table, melting into the seat with a groan. lizzie chuckles at her.

"You seem to be having fun..?"

Lizzie giggles, Shelby sets her glass on the table, sweaty hands pulling at her eyes, as she groans. Huffing for air. Somehow the star glitter on her cheeks and her purple makeup stay unbothered.

"Well- it's, well, it's not like I'm having a bad time..!!"

Her hat is almost falling off her head.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Ok, maybe I am!!"

She huffs, the slightly tipsy grin crossing her arms and leaning back in the seat. Lizzie leaning forward, over the table, adjusting her hat slightly, Shelby already flushed face staring at lizzie with wide eyes, a smile on her face. Normal deminors out the window

"Well, aren't you a gentleman?" She teases. Lizzie huffing a small laugh as she sits back down hands coming to adjust her way too bright blazer.

She wears a women's blazer and dress pants, both a bright sparkling pink. The blazer is almost completely undone, showing a white lacey bra as an under shirt. An outfit that Shelby didn't even remotely see as sexual, just that the feline looks rather good in it.

"Well, I'm sorry it was bothering me!!" She snickers, the calico ears flicking, her tail swaying softly.

"This music is hurting my head" lizzie groans out, Shelby nods in agreement as she stays leaned over the table, both their glasses now empty. Lizzie isn't sure where joel went, but frankly, she doesn't care.

"Wanna go somewhere quiet..?" Shebly mumbles, out stretching her hand. Face still flushed. With the dopey grin. Lizzie sets her hand in Shelbys.

To be honest, she doesn't remember much half that. Only a bottle of wine, a warm blanket, and the soft voice of a movie

[thesilentmedium]

TIMING: Late January SETTING: Zane's House PARTIES: @thesilentmedium & @rn-zane SUMMARY: Jonas heads over to help Zane paint his walls WARNINGS: None

Even though it looked like a tornado of the home renovating kind had blown through the house, Zane still preferred it to the previous look. Messy as it currently was, it still looked so much more like a home at this point. Before now, the only thing he’d really made his own was the bedroom and that had pretty much just been hanging the bit of artwork he’d received for Christmas along with a fluffy bed for Buddy. Changing the whole house had felt so drastic and almost forbidden in a way. 

Nothing special had spurred this decision to finally get on with it but Zane knew he’d made the right call the second the first gloomy, old-timey painting had been pulled from the wall. Having Jonas around now, helping, also proved to make the whole process ten times more comforting. 

It was still a bit hard, looking over and seeing the eyepatch, knowing the trauma it represented but today wasn’t about that. Surely, Jonas didn’t want to spend every moment thinking about that awful night and Zane was more than happy to be able to provide a distraction. 

So here they stood, facing a blank wall with multiple swatches of color hastily painted on, a perfect representation of Zane’s complete lack of ability to decide. Between the soft, corally pink, the grayish pastel blue and the gentle mossy green, it was clear that he had no idea what he wanted for this wall. “Maybe I should just go with a basic color. Like… off-white. That’s a thing, right?” Slightly lost eyes turned to Jonas, sprinkled with the hope that his friend would provide the answer. 

—

Coming over to Zane’s was probably one of the healthier distractions Jonas had decided to partake in since his leave of the hospital. Not that he was doing anything particularly crazy to ward off the thoughts of the woods, but he had come home a few nights rather tipsy. It was odd doing such a thing, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. Sketching barely took his mind off of it and baking was a little harder now given that his hands were constantly knocking things over. You didn’t need good depth perception to drink though or dance. The vibrations of the music and the way the alcohol muddied his mind made it easier to just have fun. He knew he didn’t want to keep doing it though. Zane having problems with home renovation was a blessing in disguise he supposed.

So here Jonas stood before the wall in a white tank top and a pair of blue jeans that were already stained with paint from previous projects. His left wrist was covered in a black sweatband that hid the marks of Zane’s bite, in case it made the other feel awkward, and his hands were placed firmly on his hips as he looked over the options on the wall, before his gaze wandered to the rest of the room. 

He was trying to get a feel for what Zane wanted, the vibe of the room, but ultimately he got distracted by the other man’s pretty eyes. Zane looked just as handsome as ever and Jonas was relieved. The last time he saw the other was in the hospital. They hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk after that but he was glad the taller man seemed to be doing well. He was even more glad he seemed able to be less awkward with Zane now. When the taller man had first set the boundary of friendship, Jonas wasn’t sure exactly what was okay to do around him. His brain had always been one for overthinking and while his heart still skipped a little when their eyes met, he wasn’t as nervous about messing up. 

Finally satisfied that the other seemed alright even with him here, Jonas offered a smile before pointing to the mossy green. “I um am always biased towards pink, but this color fits you.” Green had always been a calming color, something Zane had in common with it, so it made sense it should cover his walls. 

—

Zane smiled softly, appreciative of the honest answer. The fact that Jonas wouldn’t let his own personal bias affect even something as simple as a choice of paint was enough to bring on a new rush of simmering anger. The unfairness of someone like that getting hurt, caught up in senseless violence, almost getting… Clearing his throat in an attempt to also clear those thoughts, Zane nodded. “Yeah, okay. Green it is. I’ll find something to make pink, though, don’t worry.” 

This low stake work, even if Zane was shit at it, was the perfect distraction. Work was decent for it, too, but he couldn’t exactly let his mind wander while handling needles and medicine and people’s lives. Here, he could always just paint over any mistakes. Or suffer a bruise or two. “So the guy at the store definitely knew I was completely clueless, which means he managed to sell me like… five different types of paint rollers?” With a small chuckle, Zane led Jonas over to the array of supplies, making a gesture of ‘pick whatever’ before moving for the paint himself. 

The gray shirt he had on was already ruined, somehow covered in paint before he’d started the actual job of painting a whole wall, so at this point it was definitely useless that he’d rolled up both sleeves in order to “protect them.” Jonas had the right idea, already looking more qualified for this job than Zane could ever dream of. Still, he stirred up the paint like the store clerk had told him to before pouring it over to the tray, miraculously not spilling it all over the floor. 

“I swear, if anyone saw me at this, they’d never let me put in another IV,” Zane joked, head turned to make sure his mouth was visible to Jonas. A habit that had taken a bit of time to learn but now stuck, despite this new and still slightly tense arrangement between them. 

—

“I would love to see what you choose to make pink… Oh, um he should have given you the right roller for the type of paint you are using.” Jonas squated to take in the options carefully pulling out the roller that made sense with their choice and made sure Zane had one similar to his. He didn’t want all the hard work Zane was putting into this project to go to waste at the end of the day. He didn’t know the sorty behind this house or why Zane was changing it but he could understand the need. When he first moved back into the family house, he had set out renovating and fixing what he could. That was mostly so his family could come home to a place that was no longer showing its age. He was starting to think it would have been better to save it for later, especially when his hopes for them actually coming home were now dwindling with each passing day. 

He shook his head a little before he noticed Zane turning his head. Right, today was supposed to be a day of helping his friend and not fretting over what was going on. Jonas smiled and chuckled at the joke, holding out the roller to the other man. “I am um sure they would excuse you for the mess. You are a lovely nurse and that does not always translate to being good at home renovation. Your house does not need an IV.” Then again with Wicked’s Rest there could be a house out there in need of medical treatment. 

Jonas was beginning to wish he had a long sleeved shirt he could have used. He had always been one to run cold, if the amount of sweaters he took off once he got there was any indicator of it, he wasn’t sure if he had some sort of medical condition or it was the fact he always had ghosts trailing him but his arms were already breaking out in small goosebumps. He ignored them though, they had a job to do and he wanted to start it. “How about we uh each take one wall?” 

—

Any sort of self deprecation never landed when it came to Jonas, the man seemed to always have a compliment on hand for those scenarios. It didn’t do much to help with how little Zane felt he was deserving of those compliments but just like the house, that was a work in progress. There was no going back on the fact that Zane was confident in his decision to keep their relationship platonic, to keep his messy life and the way danger seemed to follow him as far away from Jonas as possible. However, there was no denying that removing himself completely from the other man’s life wasn’t an option, either. 

Jonas had been so relieved to see him at the hospital that vanishing completely felt unfair. If today went well, maybe there really was hope for this to be an alright friendship. “Alright, fair enough,” Zane chuckled, bringing over the paint and smiling at Jonas, letting the unease fade away with every moment. “Yeah, sounds like a plan. Just pick a wall, I’m going to put on some music and… guess I don’t need to worry about scaring you off when I inevitably start to sing along and butcher the song.” 

Zane kept the volume reasonable, not wanting to miss Jonas speaking in that soft manner of his. He wondered how much of the vibrations his friend would be able to sense, putting on a playlist of his most listened to songs since he didn’t really have to play music with someone else in mind right now. Sure enough, about five minutes into painting (after watching how Jonas used the roller and attempting to follow suit) Zane was distractedly singing along to the words, finally managing to feel completely at ease in Jonas’s presence. 

—

Jonas shook his head as another negative comment seemed to come from Zane, “I am sure you uh sound just fine. Singing is meant to be fun even if one may not be good at it.” He knew the other was joking, and was hoping he didn’t seem like he didn’t understand that but he also wanted Zane to feel good about himself. He was such a kind soul Jonas hoped he would turn that kindness to himself, not that it was an easy thing to do. He had taken several years of therapy to even do that for himself and even now he struggled with it. It had been especially hard coming back into the house his father used to inhabit. The place had so many things that made him think of Jacob Ballard and it was never a good experience when he did. 

At least here with Zane there wasn’t anything to make him feel worse, he was already accepting that the other man only had platonic feelings for him now. He could convince himself he was fine with that, he would rather be friends than nothing at all. Jonas didn’t want to be distant especially when he didn’t know what he did in the first place to cause such a thing to happen, he normally wouldn’t fight such decisions and he supposed he really wasn’t. Not outright anyway. Perhaps him constantly keeping in touch with Zane was his way of protesting the space between them just a little. Though he was sure if Zane really wanted to cut off all contact with him there wasn’t really anything Jonas could do to stop him. 

So he was more than relieved to see the taller man singing along with his music. It was just loud enough for Jonas to feel the vibration and he found himself swaying along to the beat. He smiled at Zane and was content to work while enjoying the music for a few moments. He didn’t want to interrupt the other man having a good time. He did have to stop eventually though, his height had always been a challenge in life and painting a wall taller than him was inconvenient. He mumbled something to himself about being short as he placed the roller in the paint pan and shuffled over to the front door where he had left his things. It didn’t take long for him to return with his trustiest step ladder. It was the most stable and sturdy of the lot, even had three steps! He carefully situated it in front of the wall as he got back to work. Ol’ rusty was holding up just fine till Jonas stepped down to refill his roller and the step ladder wiggled just enough to make him lose his balance. 

—

More than a few glances were spared at Jonas as walls went from depressing gray to an inviting green, warmth settling in Zane’s chest when he caught the older man moving to the admittedly catchy beat of a Harry Styles song. It had been a joke earlier about the singing but Zane knew that he would have been comfortable letting his tone deaf vocals ring out even if Jonas could hear them. There were honestly only two things he had really been embarrassed about when it came to Jonas - one of them currently covered up by an inconspicuous wrist band and the other the fact that he’d let things go as far as they had, knowing deep down that it was a bad idea. 

Jonas’s mumbles got a quiet laugh from Zane, who was having no trouble reaching the tops of the wall. He’d been about to catch the man’s attention to offer him a chair for extra height but of course, the medium was well aware of his own literal shortcomings. Zane was grinning, maybe the slightest hint of a tease visible on his face, as his friend padded up the three small steps. It looked sturdy and it wouldn’t exactly make for the highest of drops but even so, Zane found himself moving closer, at the pretense of adding more paint to his still half-full tray. 

He continued to hum distractedly, back facing Jonas so the other wouldn’t feel him staring and get worried about being a distraction to Zane, which he would. Still, he listened for each creak as he stirred up the paint, half-aware that his muscles were tensed and ready to respond. It would have made him feel stupid and paranoid, right up until the moment one of the creaks were followed by a soft, shocked gasp. 

His arms looped under Jonas’s armpits in an instant, the man barely having made it halfway towards the ground before Zane was there, hoisting him back on his feet with ease. It was very low stakes, worst case scenario Jonas would have left here with a couple more bruises so why had his heart leapt into his throat at that frightened sound? A few more bruises weren’t the worst but in the grand scheme of what Jonas had already gone through… “I thought I wasn’t going to break out my first aid kit today,” Zane attempted to joke after he’d moved to face the other, worry shining from his face as he looked him over for any injuries. A small scrape was visible on his ankle, just barely weeping blood, the step stool probably having nicked the skin. 

—

It wasn’t the first time Jonas had stumbled down stairs while out of the hospital, or even before the hospital. They seemed to be his natural enemy. Just as he was about to curse ten years of living out of a car for his inability to walk properly, he felt a familiar feeling against his back. There wasn’t much warmth in Zane, and maybe that was what made his touches even more noticeable. Jonas immediately flushed at the contact as he was set upright perhaps a little too easily. The strong arms didn’t stay there long as the taller man made his way in front of him. 

“Oh um I appreciate the help. I did not expect my feet to slip so easily.” Jonas could still feel the heat on his face as he let Zane look him over. He could feel a slight discomfort on his ankle and when he looked down he shook his head. “If that um requires first aid then I am in quite the trouble.” He joked back, he was trying to calm his racing heart while willing the redness on his face away. They were friends, being flustered from the slightest touch wasn’t the best thing to feel towards someone you were friendly with. 

“Maybe just a band aid would do? And if you um like I can leave the tops of the walls to you.” Jonas wouldn’t mind getting back up the step ladder to finish but something told him Zane would be tense about it now, plus he didn’t think his heart could handle it if he ended up in Zane’s arms again. The last time that happened he was in the hospital and the time before that he was in bed with the man. One was not the best of memories and the other was inappropriate to think about given their current relationship. 

—

This had been going okay. Was it still going okay? Jonas seemed embarrassed or maybe it was just discomfort from Zane rushing in to save him from an innocent stumble. The last thing his friend needed now was being made to feel like some fragile idiot. Yes, Jonas was here to help but a part of him had wanted this to be a distraction from the man, a day where he could attempt to forget being ruthlessly beaten. Probably hard to do with a worried nurse not even trusting you to work a step stool. “I - sorry. Force of habit.” 

Shaking his head, Zane allowed a small smile to replace the twisted frown of worry as Jonas joked. Always ready to defuse the situation. “You’re not in trouble,” he chuckled, nodding at the suggestion of a bandaid. “And I actually keep bandaids outside of the first aid kit so lucky us.” With what he hoped was a tension breaking expression, he moved for the bathroom, grateful for that moment to regain composure. He was half decent at ignoring unwanted thoughts but there was no pretending that even the smallest of cuts wasn’t a stark reminder for his taste buds. 

“There we go,” he said cheerily as he returned, handing the bandaid over to Jonas before turning his attention to the small steps. Contemplating. “It’s up to you. I can definitely take over on the high parts but it’s not like you’re going to break your neck on those so… if you want a do over, I’ll try my best to be chill.”

—-

“No worries, I am uh glad the scratch is all that happened.” Jonas really doubted he would have ended up with anything worse than that, but he didn’t want to point that out to Zane. He was getting used to working around people treating him like he was about to break at any moment. He hadn’t really given off vibes that suggested he was very strong even before the accident; he was shorter than most at only 5’5” and any strength he might show off my being fit was often hidden under pink fluffy sweaters. He was the least intimidating person in the room and maybe that was why he kept getting targeted over Lil. He was really starting to wish he had gotten some of the genes the giants in his family possessed. 

Though that wasn’t why he was so flustered at this moment, sure it was embarrassing to trip on stairs but by now Jonas was so used to it that he normally brushed it off. It was the lingering feelings he still held for the man that had caught him. The ones that he was painfully aware of by now the other man didn’t return. “Oh good, um saves you the trouble then.” He offered a smile as Zane wandered off to the bathroom, grabbing his face once the other man was away and willing it to stop being so red. It had all just been a spring fling, something he had had before and something he was bound to have again. Though normally he was long gone by now, the distance of several miles between him and the person who got caught up in the moment with him made it much easier to let go of feelings that seemed determined to stay. 

He didn’t want to do that with Zane though, he couldn’t. Jonas knew he wasn’t going to be leaving the town anytime soon even with what happened and being Zane’s friend had been something he was enjoying before the other man decided distance was best. He was glad they were able to be normal around one another now, even if Jonas’ face didn’t quite cooperate anytime Zane got too close. He was still trying his best to force the feelings away so he could fully enjoy being Zane’s friend. He didn’t want to lose that, especially after whatever passion that took hold of them that day had fizzled out from Zane. No, he would be a good friend to the other man! He would not ruin this, even if it meant looking like a fool from time to time. At least all this thinking got his heart to slow and he could feel the heat leaving his cheeks. By the time Zane returned he looked like regular ol’ Jonas. Or he hoped he did. 

“I appreciate it.” Jonas offered a small smile and tested the wobbly step ladder once more, shifting it till it stood still and using it for a seat once he was sure the thing wouldn’t wobble again. With the cut safely behind the band aid, Jonas stood back up and when the ladder stayed firm he smiled down at Zane, “I um seemed to have fixed the problem, if I uh happen to trip again you are more than welcomed to take the stairs from me.” 

—

Distracting himself with the process of taping up the next wall that needed painting, Zane kept glancing over at Jonas before catching himself. As if the process of putting on a bandaid needed supervision. This really had just been a scratch, the smallest of accidents but even so, it managed to confirm his fears. Despite all of this being easily blamed on a faulty ladder, it cemented just how worried he was about Jonas getting hurt around him - getting hurt because of him. At times, Zane seemed to function as a literal shit magnet, from the insane kidnapping plot to the fact that there were people out there willing to kill him just for existing. Not to mention his new hobby of snooping around The Grit Pit. 

If there had been any doubt about keeping a safe distance from Jonas, there wasn’t any now. 

He cared about him, how could he not, but had the advantage of not having a heartbeat or a flushing face that might betray him like in Jonas’s case. All in all, it would probably be even safer to cut all ties but Zane couldn’t bring himself to do that. He’d respect the other’s decision if it ever came to that, though. “If the stairs mess with you again, I’m breaking them up for firewood,” Zane deadpanned, managing a smile even through the depressing nature of his thoughts. 

Threatening an inanimate object seemed to have worked as the next hour passed by without further injuries. Not all damage had been avoided, his own clothes splattered with paint and a few new stains added to Jonas’s clothes. Zane asked about the bakery, about Lil and Blue, the topics safe and comfortable. Standing back to admire their work, Zane gave a pleased nod. “Green was definitely the way to go.” Moving to sit on the ground, legs crossed, he patted the hardwood for Jonas to join him. 

“Thanks for helping out. I know things have been weird - actually, that I’ve been weird but this was nice.” A pause, gaze turning to a stray splatter of paint on the floor. “I get that I didn’t really give you an explanation but… just know that it has nothing to do with you. You’re amazing and deserve the world but not… that’s not gonna come from me, is what I’m trying to say, I guess.” A quick glance to gauge the other’s expression. “I get if you don’t like that deal and if this makes you uncomfortable, I totally understand. But I do like having you around and not just because you help me paint.”

—

Jonas was feeling pretty good about their work, happily taking in the finished walls and nodding along when Zane agreed with his choice of color. The green brought a calmness and warmth to the room that matched its owner. Hands on his hips he stretched his back and was about to mention getting some food when the other sat on the floor and motioned for him to follow. Jonas followed the offer, looking towards Zane carefully taking in what he was saying. It was all things he had already come to realize but perhaps with it not being expressed openly he had managed to still hold onto some kind of hope that Zane would come close again. They weren’t meant to be, he knew it and yet it still hurt to have it spoken so clearly. 

Heartbreak was a strange sensation that Jonas was more than used to by now. His life before did not make for a good environment for long lasting relationships and maybe he had hoped that coming back to town would be his chance to change that, he knew he still had all the time in the world to make that true even if right in this moment he felt like someone had punched him in the gut, twisting and pulling at his stomach. He tilted his head down in an effort to hide how hurt he must look in the moment. He didn’t want Zane to feel guilty about any of this because there was nothing for him to feel guilty for. Feelings were unpredictable things and if they left they left. 

Jonas’ hand came to rest on top of Zane’s, “I am blessed to be your friend.” That was all he could really offer in this moment as he pulled back and stood up. “I do wish to stay close but um… I think at this moment it is best for me to return home.” He could feel his voice cracking as he talked, coughing to clear it as he moved to fold up his step stool, quickly grabbing his other things to leave before he broke in front of the other man. He wasn’t learning anything new, he shouldn’t be so torn but he could feel the tears forming on his cheeks and the last thing he wanted was for Zane to offer comfort. His heart wouldn’t be able to handle it. 

“I will talk to you later um, I hope the rest of the renovations go well.” Jonas called out but didn’t bother to turn around to look at Zane, he couldn’t. Slipping on his sweater he opened the door and made his escape, feeling everything he’d been forcing down recently threatening to bubble out of his throat with each passing second. 

[stereopticons]

4, 5, 9! xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes

4. What piece of writing are you most proud of?

If we’re being honest, I’m most proud of continuing to write at all despite what my brain wanted to do. But if we’re going with actual pieces of writing, I think it’s finally finishing your secret’s safe with me. It ended up more complex than originally planned with switching perspectives and parallel stories but I am proud of how it turned out.

5. What have you improved on most this year?

Well, I still edit as I go (and by that I mean, in my head before the words even get out) and I’m not sure that is going to change but I have gotten better about not getting hung up on some things like pop culture references and just leaving them in brackets to come back to later (or to ask my beloved brackets fillers for help with).

9. What's a scene you wrote this year that you're particularly proud of?

I spent like an hour going through old wip wednesday/seven sentence sunday posts certain that I'd shared this scene from indie band patrick before but apparently I didn't??? So I'm going to put it behind the cut because it's kind of long (and also not posting the very end so I don't spoil everything for when I eventually start posting)

end of the year fanfic asks

“You just have to move with the music,” David says, trying to demonstrate by moving his hips to the beat. “You dance like you skimmed a WikiHow article on how to move. There’s no steps, you just have to feel it!” “I’m trying!” David turns around and reaches back to grab Patrick’s hands, trying (and mostly failing) to ignore the flare of sparks that sends up his arms. He places Patrick’s hands on his hips and moves back so they’re almost touching. He can feel the heat from Patrick’s body scalding him.  This might have been a mistake.  He’s just tipsy enough to think that maybe he doesn’t care.  “Just, um, try to follow my movements.” David starts to move his hips again. He can feel Patrick matching him, tentatively at first, but he eventually finds the rhythm. He settles his large hands more comfortably on David’s hips and David feels like he’s been branded, like he’ll be feeling the imprint of Patrick’s fingers for days and weeks to come.  David has danced with a lot of people at clubs like this, people of all genders, but it has never felt like this before. Patrick’s breath is hot on the back of his neck, and there’s barely an inch of space between them. His already-tight pants are starting to feel even tighter—he’s a bit embarrassed to be half-hard just from some grinding, but it feels too good to bring himself to stop.  The song changes and a familiar synth beat pounds out of the speakers. David knows that intro in the marrow of his bones. I call you when I need you My heart’s on fire He spins around so he’s facing Patrick.  “I love this song!”  “Yeah?” Patrick says, a soft smile on his lips.  “You have to listen to the lyrics!” David insists.  Patrick cocks his head slightly like he actually is trying to listen harder.  You come to me, come to me Wild and wired  David drapes his arms over Patrick’s shoulders, bringing them impossibly closer. He can see the faint dusting of freckles across Patrick’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose, the tiny scar over his eyebrow, the hints of auburn in his stubble. They’re still moving together, hips swaying as Tina’s voice echoes out of the speakers.  Oh, you come to me Give me everything I need Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams Speak the language of love like you know what it means Patrick’s gaze flicks to David’s lips and back up again. The air between them crackles with electricity and it feels like they’re the only people on the dance floor. David leans forward as if pulled by a magnet, pausing to give Patrick the chance to turn away. When he doesn’t, David wraps a hand around the back of Patrick’s neck and closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together.  And David has kissed, like, a thousand people, but it’s never felt like this before, like it’s a new beginning.

[soloroleplaystory]

The next Friday arrives. I've been playing my online games more during the week, while still getting my work done.

"Hello little bunny. May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the party tomorrow night? I will not begrudge you if you want to dance with anyone else, but I would be honored if you'd stay on my arm all night. I'll provide anything you need, so long as you allow me to care for you. ~The Wolf."

How am I supposed to reply to that? I want to dance and have fun with anyone, but it's comforting dancing with him. After a long time, I finally reply.

"I am flattered that you like me so much. I enjoyed dancing with you very much. I've never really been in a relationship... Would you be upset if I ask you to allow me to have some fun before I dedicate to one person?" I type, breathing deeply. "You make me feel nice, but I don't want to lead you on."

A reply doesn't arrive until just before I start to get dressed. "I am willing to let you explore your desires. I simply hope you'll give me the chance to be the answer to those desires." The Wolf replies. "I will meet you at the door."

Something about that makes me shudder in excitement.

I put a little more effort into this outfit, with a black button up and some black skinny jeans. How long have these actually been in my drawer? Now's as good a time as any to wear them, I guess.

I'm less nervous as I reach the house holding the party. Knowing someone is actually waiting for me is really nice.

The door opens before I can knock, the wolf standing over me. I can't see his face, but I can tell he's smiling at me. He takes my hand and brings it to his lips, as if kissing it.

I hardly remember the night. Dancing, playing beer pong, true college stuff. The music was always too loud for conversations, which is why a lot of people come here.

I won a game of beer pong, but it was only because the Wolf helped me. Feeling him press against my back, his arms wrapping around me to position my shot, it was magical. It got me... Well, very turned on.

After the game, I was very tipsy. Some of the cups had shots instead of beer, so I'd had a lot more than last week. The Wolf takes my hand, guiding me to a slightly quieter room on the other side of the house. He keeps smiling at me, but I haven't really stopped babbling since the 3rd tequila shot I had.

The room is dimmed, with a massive pile of pillows and blankets inside. The parties are so consistent that they have these items for any guest sleeping over. Something in my head wants to be scared, but it's really hard to be with the Wolf.

I wake up, nestled in a pile of blankets. The room is unfamiliar, and my head is aching. What happened? Aside from the hangover, nothing is hurting. Well, except where I smashed my knee into the pong table.

I look at the nightstand, where my phone is plugged in along with a bottle of water and two travel packs of Advil. Beneath the bottle is a note.

"My dear bunny,

It was a joy to spend the evening with you. When I noticed you were starting to fall asleep, I brought you up to the guest room. The door is locked to give you the space to rest. When you are feeling ready to leave, send a text to this number #000-000-0000. I will be there shortly to escort you back to the main campus.

~The Wolf."

How had I gotten this lucky? But... I also don't want to burden him. After putting myself together as best as I can, I quietly slip out of the frat house.

[venenatd]

just friends; eren jaegar x reader

summary: you and eren are best pals and have both recently be dumped. so, a plan to get over your exes is needed! what’s better than going out on the town trying to find quick fucks >:) also eren is a smug bastard but kinda has a heart of gold??

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (choking, unprotected sex, creampie drinking, drunk sex, possessiveness ig? dirty talk, both of them want to be dominant tbh. slight size kink, oral both m and f receiving. female bodied reader) 

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 5.8k words of unedited content 

a/n: uh so i never thought i’d be back on my tumblr bullshit at 23 but hey after years without the app i’m back. i needed to get out the h-word and this is what happened. enjoy and i’m sorry if it’s terrible lmao

“You look different” 

Frowning at the man waiting ever so patiently for you on the sofa, you look a little defeated. “Is that meant to be a compliment, Eren?”. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at you. To be fair, maybe you did. Wearing a figure hugging black dress, that definitely just hid your ass cheeks, hair styled and sprayed in place, dark lipstick and makeup on your face. Usually Eren would have seen you in sweats, always running a little late for class, snack in hand. 

“Different isn’t bad,” he offered, checking the watch that lay on his wrist, “are we ever going to get to the bar? Your plan will fall through if you’re not careful.”

Ah, the plan. Both you and Eren were newly single. In your final year at university, having managed to keep each relationship going until almost the end. Ironic. Weren’t most meant to fail in the first year? But alas, your partners had decided it was the end within a couple of weeks each other, and as you and Eren had been close since you met on orientation day, you each took to the other for comfort. You had done the crying first, going to him the minute your call with the ex had ended. Leaving wet splotches on his shirt, he had calmed you, only for you to do the same to him later. Now the crying was done, it was time to move on, and what better advice to follow than getting under someone to get over another?

“I just need to look hot enough for a guy to fuck me.”

“What a romantic you are.”

“Shut up Er-”

Eren shifted from the couch, interrupting your usual sass, “and what about me, y/n? Do I look beautiful?”. He threw in a wink with his comment, his aura of cockiness always radiating. You rolled your eyes, before studying his figure. His dark hair half pulled back into a bun, the rest draping his neck and onto a deep emerald green silk shirt, with the top few buttons loose, tucked into dark pants. A ring on each hand, fingers with chipping black nail polish, and to top it off, a thin chain on his neck. You hated to admit it and add to his smug demeanour but... the man did look good. 

“Gorgeous as always Eren,” you said sarcastically, even if it was truthful, “I’m sure there will be a queue of women who are wanting to jump on you.”

“Not if they aren’t all taken already,” he taps at his watch. Whilst the two of you had already been drinking as he waited for you to get ready, it was definitely on the later side.

“Order the uber, and we can go.”

Walking over to him and adding shoes to your outfit, you present yourself before him, a cute little smile playing on your lips. He’s staring down at his phone, quickly going through the motions for the ride. Finally, he looks up to catch your eyes. His jade pupils flick down slightly, and he hopes you miss that they land at the cleavage you’re sporting in your current get up. He flicks your nose, earning a scowl from you and a smile from him.

“You look perfect”

The club is far fuller than you both expected, dance floor and tables taken up and crowded round. Luckily, you had managed to secure you and Eren a pair of seats at the bar, and you were currently on your third..? Fourth drink of the evening. Green eyes watch your lips carefully, as you finish the vodka and lemonade. 

“So, anyone take your fancy?” he prompts, looking around at the mess of people.

Humming, you scan the area. There’s some people you recognise from class, but plenty more you don’t know. Fucking friends seems like a bad move, even in your tipsy state, so you look to the strangers faces. They don’t look like him. Ugh. 

There’s a few options though, and as you point them out to Eren they come with brief descriptors: dark hair and stubble, wide set blonde. He tuts at the options, sarcastically letting out a “sure sure, I see the appeal”. 

“And how about you, anyone you like the look of?” you ask with a sigh.

Christ, Eren thinks to himself. It’s been long enough that he hasn’t had to look for someone else. Sure there were attractive people in the world, but with her around, he hadn’t needed to give anyone else a second look. His palm moves to the back of his neck, stretching out behind him with a huff. “Let’s look on the dance floor?” he offers, clearly not as eager as you were tonight. Moving his hand back down, he holds it out for you, pulling towards the throng of people.

He looks effervescently cool like this. Shirt open, hair starting to fall from his bun. Eren is looking around at the people surrounding the two of you. The two of you had been working in circles, allowing each other an eyeful as the club goers move around the space. As a group of guys push their way from the dance floor to the bar, you get shoved towards Eren. Heels were never quite your forte, and you stumble against him, hands on either side of his chest. Grinning down at you with that smug little smile that annoyed you so much, Eren brought large hands to your waist, pushing you away a little. But his hands stay there as he continues to sway to the music, making no effort to break the contact. And so you bring your arms up to his neck, allowing his movements to carry you on time to the song. For the first time in the past couple of weeks, you feel light. Your chest isn’t constricted by some foreign weight. It’s just you and your best friend, buzzed and free.

Colours change above you, as you look up to Eren, him down to you. A playful grin takes his lips as he pulls you a little closer, you so easily accepting the narrowing distance. Your black silk meets his deep green, chest pushing into his. You carefully analyse his features, seeing if he attempts to check you out like earlier. 

Was it the alcohol making your cheeks so warm? Lit up by a purple hue, you watch his eyes return to exploring the crowd, his hand still holding on to you. His smirk falters, his eyebrows creasing together. You’re not moving in circles anymore, Eren pausing in his movements as he thinks about what to do next. He shouldn’t lie to you, but seeing your ex at the bar would really harsh the night. Under his fingers, he can feel your body tense, suddenly unsure at how close the contact between you was. 

But Eren doesn’t want you to know, he doesn’t want you to be distracted by your ex tonight. He doesn’t want to see your hurt little face anymore. The way your eyes would be red and puffy the next day. The way he would feel your shoulders heaving under his arms. You don’t deserve that. Hell, you didn’t deserve the huge amount of shit your ex had put you through over the years he’d known you. Eren would sit back and listen to you rant, support you where he could. But fuck that guy. And he wasn’t sure what sparked in his chest, but Eren’s jade orbs are trained straight back on you. His eyebrows calm, tension releasing from them. As you can turn to scope out whatever had changed his body language so suddenly, he catches your jaw. 

Beginning to slowly move again, his eyes have narrowed, taking in the way the dress hugs you, the shine on your skin from the hot dance floor. Eren couldn’t quite figure out what was intoxicating him right now. Definitely a lot of alcohol, but also a sudden… possessiveness. He didn’t want you in pain anymore. Eren wanted you in pleasure. His breath is suddenly on your neck, making your hair raise. 

“I’ve only seen one person I’m interested in tonight.” 

“Oh?” you squeak, before clearing your throat a little. The new deep notes in his voice catch you off guard. It almost sounds like he’s… No. He’s your best friend. The little looks you’d been giving each other all night were just two people looking out for one another, two people seeing each other happy for the first time in a while. Your voice is calmer as you ask light-heartedly, “and who would that be?” 

His lips are so close to your ear. 

“You.” 

“Eren-” your hands move from behind his neck, resting on his shoulders. You need to see your best friend's face, you need to know if he’s joking right now. If he’s mocking you. When you draw back, you see his face. Smug, as always. Fuck you’ve always wanted to knock that cockiness down a peg. Cheshire smile showing his teeth and his eyes looking down at you. Half lidded eyes, pupils blown. He’s not joking. Fuck.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your breath is caught in your throat. All too aware suddenly of each of his finger pads pressing into your skin, the contact feeling like fire with the added alcohol. But, you find yourself nodding, the yes just escaping your lips before he’s pressed into them.

Large hands travel to your hip, and up your back, pressing you into him. You can feel his body, tense in exhilaration against you, hands back around his neck. One travels up to the nape of his back, tangling into his hair and pulling him deeper into you. The music is all consuming, you can feel the bass in your body, you can feel Eren against you, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

Eren’s hand on your back travels up, echoing your placement on him, to hold the back of your neck. He doesn’t want you to go, you feel too good. The heat between your bodies could suffocate him. His thumb puts pressure under your jaw, he isn’t even sure you can feel it. But he can, measuring your pulse racing underneath the pad. He’s smiling into this kiss, this all consuming kiss.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you’re all too eager to allow him into your mouth. Tasting the whisky from your home, tasting the coke from the club. His teeth take your lip nipping slightly, before sucking the plump of it into his mouth. You both come up for air, eyes meeting in acknowledgment of the situation.

“Wanna get out of here?”

The drive home had only served to heap tension between you. As clearly that it was that you wanted each other, you would have to wait a while longer. Your thighs pressed together, slowly inhaling and exhaling. Going through your mind was whether this was a good idea, staring out at the city passing by you. Eren was your friend. You were dating another man two weeks ago. The same man that had previously asked you if he needed to be worried about Eren. You’d laughed it off, because it was Eren. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt him grip your leg, a little too harshly at first, before settling, leaving a gentle pattern of circles and lines on your inner thigh. It was Eren.

Just one hallway. You had to make it one hallway to get into your apartment. One hallway left to come to your senses. And just like he read your mind, Eren is once again touching you, just his hand on yours pulling you backwards. You twist just in time, his hands instantly cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, deeply and intensely. Pushing you back into the wall, you pray a neighbour doesn’t walk out now. His knee is pressing gently between your legs, and you allow it. Your fingers sink into Eren’s arms, lightly covered by the fabric yet you can still feel the muscle underneath, relaxing and tensing as he pulls you closer. 

His lips are making their way to your jaw, lifting your chin upwards, tentatively licking the bone before moving downwards still, sucking and nipping and licking your neck. A whimper breaks through. You really need to get inside. Gripping his hair, you sharply pull backwards.

“Not going to play nice, huh?” 

When did he speak like this? The playful and shit-eating grin your friend Eren always wore was replaced by something darker, his words laced with intent. 

“Don’t challenge me.” 

You were off, finally at your door, making quick work with the lock, moving in first before he followed. The door shut as you pushed Eren against it, usual doe eyes being taken over with a deep lust. Your hands are instantly at his belt, as his hands find your face once again. This time he’s grabbing your hair, making you look up at him as he glares down at you. You’re constantly challenging one another in conversation, and it’s translating to the bedroom far too easily. 

Lips are on one another again, as you leave the belt and start towards his shirt. You bite down on his bottom lip, earning a hiss from him, and you feel his hand being brought around your throat. He doesn’t add too much pressure, checking if this turn is indeed okay with you. When you push against the weight, he takes the gleam in your eye as a yes, and uses the force to push you against the next wall, finally moving off the front door. 

It’s a constant battle to get to the bedroom, both of you taking control for short bursts. Eren pulling the thin straps of your dress down, you untucking his shirt. His muscular torso is on full display, and you had never viewed it in this light before. 

Finally he pushes you onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. Your kisses are sloppy and infused with alcohol. Hands are desperate with one another, both of you needing to be closer. Are you scared if the contact ends your thoughts will return to sanity? 

Eren’s hot and heavy over you, his hands seem everywhere at once. Smoothing up your thigh, digging in slightly to the flesh when you grind against one another. His hands rest at your hips for a moment, and he’s looking down at you, still fucking smiling. All at once, he’s flipped you over his prominent hard on pressing into your ass. He’s whispering in your ear, leaving wet kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blades. Fingers take the zip at the back of your dress, slowly and carefully pulling it down, leaving licks and pecks as he goes. It’s torturous. 

You attempt to speed things up by rutting your ass against his crotch, and you think you hear a quiet moan, before his hand is brought down to the fabric, smacking your cheek. You gasp, turning your head to look at him. Eren is too occupied in taking in all of your body, his green eyes are darkened with authority and lust. His nimble fingers play with the short hem of your dress, thumb dipping beneath, before he pushes the silk up. 

You both let out soft fuck’s, as his hands grab at the plump of your ass. It’s like he’s testing the softness, the way your flesh responds to his touch so easily. He slaps at you again, earning a sharp moan from you. Eren’s leaning down, his mouth once again trailing across the apex of your behind, leaving trails of saliva as he goes. Before you can even register the new sensations you can feel a soft pressure against your clothed cunt, just enough to let you know the presence of his hand, but not enough for you to get off on. You’re mewling, once again trying to get closer to him. This time he allows it, eagerly pressing his ring and middle finger to your clit, allowing you to grind upon them. 

Seeing you underneath him like this… it’s new and strange and so fucking hot. He’s watching you desperately try and fill the need building in your core, and he can only feel his cock twitch in his pants as he sees you coming undone. If you wanted more, he could definitely give it to you. Bringing his large hands away, to the flimsy fabric that was covering you, he pulls it down, exposing you to him. His heart and dick fucking jump. His hands return to your ass, watching the jiggle as you move and whimper. Spreading you, he brings his face down, breath tingling on your most sensitive areas.

Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue, gentle at first, licks between your folds. He’s tasting you, he’s moaning into your pussy, as you write beneath him. Eren’s hands are squeezing your ass cheeks, holding you still as you try to grind against his face. 

“Patience, y/n”, he says, with a slap on your behind again. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss. 

“You will be in a minute, baby girl, don’t worry.”

You go to make a retort but he’s instantly back, licking up your slit and a deep moan escapes you. Jesus you can feel the smile on his lips as he’s back on your pussy. Eren is so proud of the sounds he can draw from you. He wonders if your ex could make you come undone so easily. 

You taste sweet and saccharine on him, and he doesn’t hold back the groan as he further works his way into you. Hardened tongue moving it’s way from your entrance down to your clit. He swipes at it, before moving away again. Kissing your thighs, kissing the skin between your holes. Every now and then he’ll move back to your clit, allowing you a moment of pleasure before he’s teasing again. “Fuck, please”. Your whines are being smothered by the sheets, and Eren wants nothing more than to hear them, loud and clear.

Eren’s ringed fingers make their way to your hair, his face lifting from between your legs. He pulls you back round, and holy shit you can see how wet you are on his face. There’s a sheen to his lips and chin, and instinctively you reach up to his neck, pulling him back on top of you. Your tongue meets his, tasting your tartness on his mouth. A hand makes it way back down in between your thighs, playing and parting your folds. Your hand in turn reaches up his neck, pulling sharply at his hair once again. “Eren. More- please” you get out in between staggered breaths. 

“Aw, since you asked so nicely” his eyes watch your expression closely as his thumb rests on your clit, his finger swiftly moving inside you. Your eyebrows raise and knot, eyes wide and lips parted. But he keeps it still as your legs shaked around his arm. “Eren, move” you demand this time. 

“Oh, that’s not so nice. I liked it when you were polite.” He starts to retract his finger, thumb gently swabbing your clit so you’ll know what you miss.

“Please, please, please, Eren, please” you speak before he even gets the first knuckle out. All the teasing was creating a tightness in your lower stomach. 

“Much better.”

You whine as he continues to pull his finger from you, until he pushes it back in, curling his solitary finger up. Your fingernails are pressing deep into the muscle of his bicep, feeling how it moves as he finger fucks you. He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you again and again, and his thumb is swiping eagerly on your clit. 

Eren can feel you fluttering around his finger, desperate for more, desperate to release on him. He adds another finger, your wetness allowing him entrance easily. He wants to fuck you so bad, his cock so hard it felt like it was about to burst. 

He pushes your hands off him, leaving crescent moon indents deep in his skin, he works his way back down. He brings the black silk with him this time, fully being able to take in your body as you’re left naked before him. Holy shit you’re beautiful. He doesn’t want to stare too long and make you shy. But he still kisses his way down, before he’s back at your pussy. 

This time he allows you more movement, letting your fingers work their way back into his hair, letting you roll your hips against his tongue and stubble. 

With his spare hand he pulls out his cock, slowly pulling at it, before he realises he can’t do that for too long without cumming before the main event. Instead he reaches up, rolling your perked nipples in between his fingers. There are so many sensations on your body, and Eren can feel your cunt beginning to tighten around his fingers. You hold your breath before letting out little moans, building towards reaching your height.

“You want to cum on my fingers?

Your back is arching, whispering “yes, yes, yes, please” as your walls are tightening around him. He quickens the pace, making sure to hit that spot inside you over and over. Thighs around his face, he can feel your slick pooling in his mouth, and coating his chin once again. 

Your gummy walls are so tight around his thick fingers, he needs you to finish, watch you fully unravel below him. Sucking and licking at your clit, he’s pushing you towards the edge. 

“Eren-” his name is strangled coming out of you, and then your moaning, undulating your cunt against his mouth, riding out your orgasm. 

His jade eyes look up at you, watching as you pull your head up to look at him, before another wave of pleasure hits you and you have to arch your neck and look back up. He waits for you to come down, letting you fuck his face and fingers. Grinding against his stubble and tongue as you let out pitiful and beautiful moans. You’re so fucking wet, the sounds coming from between the two of you should be forbidden, as you release onto him. 

Finally he withdraws, using his forearm to wipe his face. He lies next to you, allowing you a moment as he draws little circles on your stomach. Eren has never quite looked at you in this light. Sure, you were pretty, and the two of you were obviously close. But now you’d walked a line that couldn’t be undone. You weren’t over your ex, and as okay as Eren was with what had happened between you, he didn’t want you to run. He’s overcome with thoughts, looking down to your chest and the heavy breaths you were taking. All he could pray was that you weren’t pretending he was someone else. 

But as Eren is getting caught up in his own mind, you’re twisting, hand reaching to his crotch, cock having been recaptured by his boxers. Palming him, you feel how big he really is for the first time. Fingers trace the edge of his pants and underwear, and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down. Shit. His dick slapped back to his stomach, precum leaking from the top of his pink head. He was bigger than you’d imagined, because of course you’d imagined it a couple of times.

Your hand looks so small around his cock, but you slowly tease him, his deep green orbs following your movements. Bringing your head down to him, you kitten lick the precum from the top of his dick. He hisses gently, and you look up at him with these big doe eyes, so fucking eager to please.

You push your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue as you begin working along his shaft. He moans just at the sight of you, your eyes peeking up through dark lashes. His hand goes through your hair, eagerly pushing you deeper around him. 

He lets out a hoarse, “is this okay?” before you put your own hand on his pushing it for the both of you. You don’t even want to come up for air, you just want him close to you, inside you. 

You were learning far more about each other than you had expected, as Eren takes back over. He pushes himself further into you, muttering a good girl that has you whining. The vibrations around his cock make his hips buck, and now you’re gagging as his length hits the back of your throat. He holds you there instead of letting you off, and your nails are sharp against his thighs.

His head lolls back as he starts to move his hips under you, moving you in turn with your hair. He picks up the pace quickly, allowing saliva to drool from you and straight to his cock. 

Your eyes prick, big fat tears forming at the corners. But you’re enjoying this way too much, the moans and gasps he gives make you moan, pressing your thighs together for some kind of friction. 

He takes your jaw in his grasp, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Your tongue sits out your mouth, him smacking the head of his dick on it. He notices your tears then, the mascara that’s running a little. He swipes at the corner of your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead. 

Bringing you up to him, your dripping folds sliding across his length. His lips are on your cheeks, across your jaw, licking up your neck before reclaiming your plush lips once again. You continue grinding against one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. Eventually Eren brings his hands to your hips, lifting you up as you hold his shaft up.

Your foreheads are pressed together as he slowly pushes inside you. The stretch is burning and all-consuming, eyes pricking up again as you feel him hit your furthest wall. Eren breathes out heavily, “So fucking tight”

You roll your hips, allowing some friction from him on your clit. It helps your muscles relax a little, and balancing your hands on his shoulders you push yourself up and down, using his length for your own pleasure. Eren’s eyes don’t leave your form, watching your breasts bounce and how your eyes flutter close as he fills you entirely.

“You really did want to be fucked, huh? Look at you” he teases you, watching as you go to talk back before he thrusts his hips up. It leaves the words caught in your throat.

His pace maintains, holding you in place as he fucks up into you, feeling your cunt clench around him. There are long moments where you hold your breath, holding his cock tight within you. Then you’ll release and moan, before holding it in again. Well, Eren is all too happy to help you with that. 

One hand grabbing the flesh of your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, he pushes into you at a punishing rate. Your eyes go wide at the sudden restriction of your throat, feeling the cold metal of his ring against your pulse. 

“Who knew this about you? That you were such a slut?”

As much as he knows you want to deny it, you want to smack the smugness from his voice, he can feel your pussy tighten around him. He sees your eyes roll back a little. 

“You’re getting tighter.” 

The hand on your hip moves down, attempting to hold you in place whilst letting his thumb press over your clit. The sounds of him slapping against your wetness is obscene, and he’s only distracted from it as you whimper out pathetic yes’s and please’s. 

“You wanna cum?” he’s grunting, trying to keep the pace going until you can reach your peak.

You nod against his wide hand, still tight around your neck. “Oh you can do better than that. I already know how bad you want it, slut.”

“Please Eren, please make me cum. I want to cum, please, please, please” you can barely make out the words, your head going light and body tightening.

“Cum for me.” 

You release, and as he can feel the fluttering of your walls around him, he lets go of your throat. The sudden oxygen as you cum leaves you overwhelmed. Burying yourself in his shoulder, he fucks you through it. Cock slapping up into your cunt over and over, somehow being sucked deeper in as you coat his length with more of your own slick. He can feel your nails breaking the flesh of his back as you’re holding on for dear life, moaning his name and even a fucking thank you into his ear.

As you begin to slow, legs shake as you stay straddled over him. He flips you, Eren now firmly on top, slowly moving in and out of you. The stimulation is intense, your cunt sparking at any sensation. 

Caged between his forearms, his hair is a mess thanks to you. You push tendrils back past his ears as he leans down to kiss you once again. This kiss is different. It feels… less desperate. It feels deep and meaningful, caring even.

Your eyes meet in acknowledgment, both of you too worried to speak about the shift in tone. 

He reaches down instead, pulling your leg up and splitting you on his cock. A tongue swipes at your nipple, biting and playing with each as he gradually picks up pace again. You’re still so fucking wet it’s easy for him to thrust into you at a dizzying pace. You can feel all of him against your gummy walls. Each time he passes that special spot inside you, you moan and gasp, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

His thrusts were becoming more primal, holding your thighs close around his hips. Letting your sweaty bodies collide again and again, his balls slapping against you. The grunts and moans coming from his lips were so infuriatingly erotic. Eren just wanted one more from you, and then he’d let himself finish. If this was to be a drunken mistake, so be it, but he would at least make it memorable. 

Those jade eyes were on you once again, the power and dominance radiating from the immeasurable. He can see you barely being able to hold on, completely fucked out beneath him. You’re moaning and whining, hands moving over the swell of your breasts and playing with your nipples as if it’s going to keep you grounded. 

He sits up, eyes flicking down to where you were conjoined. It took so much restraint not to cum inside you right then and there. Your glistening sex was so tight around him, the wet slapping noises echo again and again. You’re pulling and sucking him in, cream pooling around his length. 

“Give me one more, y/n. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”  

You try to look up at him through heavy lids. Your friend Eren saying this is so taboo. The words he’s said tonight so far from normal for the both of you. You flutter around him, somehow your pussy still wants to be fucked, still wants to push you off the edge one more time. You can feel the coil inside your stomach tightening. 

Eyes rolling back, you can barely keep it together anymore. He’s pounding into you at a startling rate, fingers flicking over your clit again and again and again. 

“P - please, it’s s-so good.” 

Your breaths between words were quick, “you’re so big-”

“Yeah you like that? You like being so full of my cock? Such a pretty face you make when you’re all fucked out.” 

Holy shit.

Eren could tell how much words affected you, your back arching and legs pulling him somehow closer into you.

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear those moans.” he’s grunting, getting so fucking close to losing himself in your cunt. He knows what he wants to hear most though, “say my name. Tell me who’s treating you how you should be”

With that, you’re losing yourself around him again. Writing on the bed, gripping sheets in tightly balled fists. White light taking over your sight as you clench around Eren. This orgasm was the most intense, taking your body by surprise in its overstimulated state. You weren’t even making a noise, just holding on to the high for as long as possible. 

And then you shattered, whining and moaning, whispering his name over and over again. 

As you moved underneath him, Eren kept his punishing pace up until he watched you expel the last of your energy. Name forming on your lips over and over again he falters, releasing inside you. You can feel the stickiness inside you, the sensation of being filled up. Eren watches for a moment as he sees the white pearls forming around your stretched out pussy.

His chest is back on yours as he kisses your neck, shoulders, whatever skin he can. Thrusting back into you a couple of times, he finally pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you, but you’re too spent to do anything about it.

Eren lies next to you, both of your bodies attempting to regulate from that. 

“You okay?” 

He’s checking in, making sure he didn’t go too far with someone he genuinely cares for. 

You nod, turning to meet his stare. Giving him a drowsy smile, you’re not sure what comes next. But for now, you’re happy. Curling into his side, he puts an arm round you and lets you rest for a while. As he notices your breathing become deeper, he nestles into you, muttering something about clean up. 

Moving away from you, you can make out some noises of a tap, drawers opening and closing. In your sleepy state you feel him gently wiping at you, two glasses of water being put on the bedside table. Finally he makes his way back to you, and Eren notes how cute you look. Hot and completely fucked out, yes. But also gentle and at peace, allowing the heaviness of sleep taking over.

He rests behind you, wanting to be back in your warmth. He pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. The fragrance of you takes over his nostrils, and he’s all too eager to move closer to your hair, pressing one last kiss at the nape of your neck. Whatever tomorrow brings, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to be this close to you.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the White Huron Cup zine! I am extremely bitter we can’t either save Jeralt or have any convos with him. GIVE ME AT LEAST A C-B SUPPORT CHAIN, UNFINISHED WITH THE A. (do that for all three house heads, actually!!)

Summary: Jeralt knew Byleth took after him, but he didn’t realize how much until she stepped on his toes as they danced.

…

…

…

…

Byleth’s hand dug into his shoulder and Jeralt winced. There was gripping your partner’s shoulder and then there was what could only be called a move on the battlefield. He smiled wryly. “Kid, you don’t have to hold that tightly.”

“Oh.” Byleth blinked up at him owlishly before easing her grip a tad. “Sorry.”

That didn’t change anything; her fingers still stabbed into his skin. He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, you didn’t have to take after me so much.”

The music started before he could fix their positions and Jeralt did what any father would: grinned and bore it. His arm firm around her waist, he guided her as they waltzed through the dance floor. Despite the late hour, the ball was in full force. Students twirled around them, their dresses resembling flowers. From the corner of his eye, Jeralt spotted Manuela looking particularly tipsy and a peeved Hanneman next to her.

“What do you mean?” Byleth asked, forcing his attention back on her.

“Hmm? Oh.” Jeralt chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he resisted the urge to rub her head affectionately. “I’m a terrible dancer too. Better than you, sure, but just barely. I guess you got your two left feet from me.”

“Huh.” Byleth looked oddly pleased at the comment, her lips curving slightly. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was close to one. “They said that too.”

“Who?” Jeralt raised a brow. He wasn’t sure if he should be concerned that she had dance partners, or proud.

“Claude.” Byleth poked her head around his shoulder, peeking at the head of the golden deer as he spun Hilda. “He said I probably got it from you.”

“Did he now?” Perhaps he should visit the young lord.

“Yes.” Byleth’s half-smiled once more. “I had to assist with the White Huron cup. Edelgard and Dimitri helped me but…” She shrugged. “I am not much better.”

“Well, for someone who didn’t know how to dance before now, I’d say you’re pretty good.” Jeralt smiled resisting the urge to wince as she stepped on his foot. At least that only happened occasionally. “How was it, getting taught by the future leaders of the world?”

“Painful,” Byleth replied bluntly. Her eyes were soft. It was an expression he had rarely seen on his daughter before, during their years as mercenaries. It was an expression he was starting to get used to now, the more time they’d spent at the monastery.

“You don’t look pained,” he teased, pushing her away slightly to twirl her before pulling her back. “You like it here, don’t you?”

 “I…” After a few minutes of thinking she nodded. “I guess I do.”

“Then it was a good thing we came here.” He glanced around. There were familiar faces around them, people he hadn’t seen in years. Even more were new people he hadn’t met before. “Maybe we should have come here sooner.”

She cocked her head. “Why?”

He wasn’t sure he could explain how expressive she’d become. Even now, curiosity sparkled in her eyes, her voice carried a hint of interest. He had spent years trying to pry an emotion out of her, wondering if Rhea had done something unfixable.

Maybe, it had been him all along.

“Mercenary work…it wasn’t the best place for a kid,” he said gruffly, keeping his doubt out of his voice. It was a good thing they were dancing: he had an excuse to not look her in the eyes. “You missed out on a lot. You’re doing better here than you did anywhere else we went.”

Byleth jerked her head up, staring at him. They stopped moving, the dancers flowing around them like water past a rock. She frowned. “I liked it.”

That wasn’t the answer he expected. “Huh?”

“I liked being a mercenary,” Byleth repeated, pulling him back into the waltz. “I liked being with you.”

Jeralt almost froze again—she gave him a full smile, the first he’d ever seen from her. He remembered the kid who used to braid his hair emotionlessly, the girl who’d follow him around, sword in hand, always ready for a lesson.

At some point, when he wasn’t looking, she’d grown up.

“Me too.” His voice cracked partway.

Maybe they hadn’t missed out on as much as he’d thought.

“Your mother was a great dancer,” Jeralt added, smiling as Byleth’s eyes grew wide from the info.

And whatever they had lost, he could fix that now. They had the rest of their lives to catch up.

[fredshufflepuff]

— anon’s request: ok so since i too am a whore for angst. how about the reader and rafe having a summer thing as a kook (maybe she goes to the pogue school but is a kook) and once she goes back to school, they drift apart and rafe gets jealous of her spending her time with the pogues. then maybe he sees her again at mid summers all dressed up and remembers he still loves her. please break my heart with this, im in need of a cry and then maybe put it back together with some fluff at the end? please

— warnings: fem!reader, brief smut (skip if uncomfortable), asshole!rafe for a good chunk of the imagine, language, angst, fluff.

— word count: 2,166

IT all started when you bumped into rafe at the country club on figure eights.

you didn’t normally hang around that area, but you were hanging out with sarah that day—which meant eventually running into her brother.

she tried to keep you away from him, just because he had no filter and didn’t think twice before voicing his opinion, but sooner or later your interaction with the boy would happen.

“oh god” sarah mumbled causing you to raise your brows, a confused frown on your face as she signaled to look behind you.

you turned around not so subtle to see rafe cameron making his way down the grassy hill, a golf club in one hand and a can of beer in the other.

“hey little sis, when were you going to introduce me to your friend here?” the boy spoke, a small grin on his face at seeing her roll her eyes.

“i wasn’t planning on it, you know—considering how you’re an ass.”

a small giggle fell from your lips as rafe turned his attention back to you, the sides of his mouth curling slightly at your reaction.

“well since she won’t introduce me, i will” he said, his figure leaning over yours which was sat on the grass.

he tossed his most likely expressive golf club to the ground to extend his hand out to you, which you hesitated to take before slowly reaching for it.

“i’m rafe cameron.”

of course you knew who he was, everyone did.

“y/n y/l/n.”

YOU thought the interaction with sarah’s older brother was in the past, not having to see him again since you weren’t planning on going back to figure eight or the club any time soon.

but when you found yourself in his bed getting the absolute daylights fucked out of you, you knew right then and there that this wasn’t a one time thing.

“fuck rafe,” you moaned loudly, your head thrown back against the pillow as your eyes fell shut from the feeling.

he slide his cock in and out of your needy hole as you whimpered from under him, his toned body pressed against yours as you jolted from each thrust.

“m’gonna cum, flood this needy little fuck hole” he spat, his hand coming down to grab your face and force you to open your eyes.

“please, rafe. please fill me up” you begged, your little moans and pleads sending the boy over the edge.

as soon as he gave you permission to cum you didn’t hold back. it felt like your entire body had shut down as your head fell to the side.

rafe sent a rough thrust into your quivering body before emptying himself inside, making sure to keep himself as close as possible in order to not let any leak out.

“fuck,” he groaned in your ear, his body pressed against your small one as your hands came up to rest in his hair, pulling on it gently as his cum filled you up.

later that night you didn’t bother sneaking back out to your place, instead rafe suggested you actually stay—running you a hot bath before ordering take out.

it surprised you really, considering how you didn’t know what you guys were.

you both agreed to only be friends with benefits when this all started, but now you didn’t know if you wanted that or not.

you wanted something more with the blue eyed boy.

“what are we?” you asked while laying in his arms, the feeling of his breath trailing down your neck giving you comfort.

“friends with benefits.”

no hesitation was found in his voice. it was quick and sudden, just like your heart breaking.

“oh.”

you didn’t talk much with rafe after that night—leaving early in the morning to avoid further interaction.

rafe didn’t suspect anything though, knowing how busy you usually get with school and home life, but after that single day turned into almost a week, he knew something wasn’t right.

usually you’d be around the house or at the country club, but it felt like you were almost avoiding him.

when school started up that’s when things really started to hit for rafe. you were not only distancing yourself from him, but now you were hanging out with the pogues.

to him you had wiggled yourself into john b’s friend group, getting closer with everyone but mostly jj, the one pogue he despised more than the others.

it was the night of midsommars and you were preparing yourself to see rafe, your nerves seeming to skyrocket every time his name was mentioned.

“ARE you feeling okay, y/n/n? you’re all jittery” kie pointed out, her eyes locking with yours through the vanity mirror as you slowly brushed through your hair.

“i’m okay, kie— really. just nervous for tonight i guess” you shrugged, your response seeming convincing enough as she nodded.

“hey slow pokes! hurry up or we’re going to be late” jj called, pounding on the door making you and kie jump.

“fucking assholes” you mumbled.

MIDSOMMARS was something you always looked forward to.

the lights, the food, the beautiful dresses and people you got to meet—which was rare considering how almost everyone there were stuck up kooks who’s only personality trait was having money.

all except rafe.

he was different towards you, a lot different it was scary.

“jj, don’t get into any more fights, k?” kie sighed, licking the pad of her thumb before dragging it across his face—getting rid of the dirt that had formed there.

he didn’t say who specifically it was with—the fight—just claiming it was with some stupid kooks who didn’t know when to stop talking.

“yeah yeah” he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair before sending you both a small smile.

he picked up his tray and spun it on his finger before sending her a wink, a blush coming to kie’s face as she quickly looked away.

“soooo, you and jj....” you said, the girl’s eyes rolling as she playfully pushed you away.

“enough about me, what about you?”

“me?” you raised an eyebrow, “what about me?”

“don’t play dumb, y/n/n. i’ve seen you come back late with hickeys.”

you grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters walking by and took a long sip from it, your eyebrows twisting together— “this is good, you should try it.”

kie was about to protest until the music started to kick up again, your favorite song playing making you gasp.

you quickly placed the glass on an empty table before taking her hands and pulling her towards the dance floor.

“let’s dance!”

unknown to you—rafe had been watching you ever since you stepped foot into the venue.

IT was almost one in the morning when everyone had left, you and kie sitting at one of the empty tables while you waited for jj to finish up.

you hadn’t had that much to drink, but you could say you were a little tipsy.

“ready to go?” jj asked while throwing his arms around you both, a sarcastic grunt dropping from your lips at the sudden weight.

“we were about to leave yo-”

“well, well, well...if it isn’t the golden trio” a familiar voice spat, your head snapping to the side as your eyes fell on the devil himself.

rafe cameron and his little minions.

“if it isn’t daddy’s money, dumb, and dumber” kie snapped back—referring to topper and kelce who were standing on either side of him.

“put your dog on a leash maybank before we do it ourselves” rafe threatened, only causing jj to break from your side and lunge at the boy.

“jj, stop” you said, grabbing his arm as kie yanked him back, “he wants a reaction.”

“i didn’t see you there, y/n. so quiet and small, hard to notice you.”

which was obviously a lie. rafe noticed you the second he walked into the stupid party.

“what do you want, rafe? getting bored at the country club?” you asked, your lips dropping into a fake pout.

“actually the country club is entertaining, unlike some needy bitches who can’t satisfy my needs.”

your face dropped as kie gasped beside you—jj completely unaware of what was going on but still pissed at the way rafe was speaking to you.

rafe’s face dropped slightly at the realization of what he just said, nothing but lies falling from his mouth as his eyes filled with guilt.

“fuck you.”

YOU didn’t remember much after that. just the events taking place of jj trying to throw another punch at the boys before getting dragged away by kie.

the poor girl was trying to control her hot headed friend while the other was on the verge of tears.

but you refused to cry.

in front of rafe or not, you would not let yourself cry over him.

all you remember is crashing at john b’s house and waking up with a massive headache.

your legs were draped over kie’s as the two of you slept on john b’s bed, the boys taking the couch in the living room.

light from the outside peeked through the curtains as your eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness.

your phone laid next to you on the comforter as your hands dragged it closer.

what you weren’t expecting was a shitload of texts from rafe.

rafe cameron: i’m really sorry

[sent 1:34am]

rafe cameron: y/n

[sent 1:34am]

rafe cameron: i didn’t mean anything i said

[sent 1:36am]

rafe cameron: i was drunk and wasn’t thinking

[sent 1:40am]

rafe cameron: please hear me out

[sent 1:41am]

rafe cameron: meet me at our place

[sent 1:49am]

rafe cameron: 7:30am

[sent 1:51am]

you groaned loudly while reading his texts, the need to throwup swirling in your stomach as you tossed your phone to the side.

you ran your hands over your face as you thought on what to do, biting your bottom lip in the process as you stared at the wall in front of you.

after what felt like an hour of pondering, you let yourself slip off the bed and grab your hoodie that was thrown on the floor.

you were going to see him.

‘WHAT if she doesn’t show’ rafe thought to himself as he sat in the sand, his eyes locked on the waves crashing in front of him.

he was stupid last night.

the boy made a stupid mistake that he regretted deeply.

he just needs to show you how sorry he is.

“rafe.”

his head snapped in the direction of your voice, your figure standing a few feet from his as he then quickly stood up.

he dusted off his pants before nervously making eye contact, his throat suddenly drying up as he attempted to swallow what felt like a rock.

“y/n, i’m s-so so sorry for what i said yesterday. i-i didn’t mean any of it-”

“so what? i’m supposed to forgive you?” you cut off, raising an eyebrow as his mouth fell slightly, “what if it happens again?”

“i-it won’t! i swear it won’t. i was just drunk and jealous and really fucking stupid” he blabbered on, his hands shaking as he tried to defend himself.

“jealous?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing together as he nodded his head shamefully.

“of you and that stupid pogue.”

“jj?!”

he seemed to visibly retract from your words, his eyes narrowing as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“yeah, him.”

“so you acted the way you did...because of jj?” you slowly asked, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared at you.

“i didn’t mean it, y/n...” he frowned, his face dropping slightly as you waited for him to continue, “please give me another chance, i’ll show you how sorry i am—how much you mean to me.”

it was quiet for a good minute as your thoughts swarmed your mind for a response.

“rafe...”

“y/n, please.”

another minute went by, the only sound coming from the waves crashing along the shore.

“fine.”

IT had been five months since you forgave rafe, and things were honestly going better than you had expected.

after that morning on the beach he took you out on a proper date—ending in him walking you back to your house and even stealing a kiss.

he even stopped starting fights with jj and the other pogues, wanting you to know that he was better than that.

“WHAT do you want to watch?” rafe asked while flipping through channels, one hand holding the remote while the other rested on the small of your back.

“m’not sure, you can pick.”

he hummed in response before clicking on some random channel, not really planning on watching it anyway.

he tossed the remote to the side before looking down at you, admiring your relaxed state with your arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

“you know i love you right?” he suddenly asked, his voice low and soft as he stared at you from above.

“why so gushy, rafe?” you teased, your own head angling up to see him better.

he was so beautiful.

“i’m not gushy,” he rolled his eyes, “i just wanted to remind you.”

you blushed at his words before nuzzling back into the crook of his neck, your lips kissing the delicate skin making him smile.

“i love you too, rafe.”

🏷rafe cameron taglist : @jordynsharum

a/n: could you tell i didn’t know how to end it

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

♣   —   summary: when you told armin to pick up eren’s call while he was fucking you, you weren’t expecting things to escalate this quickly. not that you were complaining.

♣   —   pairings: armin x reader, eren x reader, armin x reader x eren

♣   —   chapter tags/warnings: oral sex (receiving), spanking, humiliation, degradation, semi-public, degradation kink, rough sex, mirror sex, alcohol and drugs.

♣   —   a/n: thank you so much for all the love you’ve been giving this story so far! it makes me so happy you are all enjoying it so far. when i finished this chapter i realized the influence of halsey’s ‘strange love’ had lmao so if you have a chance, check it out. also this is a eren centric chapter while the next one will be centered around armin c: 

chapter four: the bathroom sink

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Last chance.”

Armin nodded, a soft smile on his lips. You were sitting on his bed, wearing a tiny black dress and high heels. You crossed your arms and legs, a small frown on your face.

“I’m sure. You’ve been wanting to go to Pieck’s party for a long time so you should go,” he said. “I just have too much work. I- my planning skills failed me,” Armin laughed softly.

“Can’t you do them when we get back? It’s the first party we’re attending with Eren. You know since…” you made a funny face, making you both laugh. “It was supposed to be fun for the three of us.”

Your boyfriend walked from his desk to his bed and cupped your face tenderly, thumb brushing against your pouting lip.

“Have fun for me,” he said, your frown deepening. “You look really, really beautiful, though.”

“How beautiful?” you teased him, leaning your head against his palm.

“Enough that I’m having a hard time telling you to go instead of staying here with me,” Armin replied, leaning in and pressing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Fine,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“C’mon. Tomorrow morning I submit my last paper and we can have lunch and then watch some movies together,” he offered.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he smiled. You grinned and grabbed his face, placing a lot of small, chaste kisses on his lips, loving the way he giggled at your action. “Go have fun, I promise I’ll come with you to the next one.”

“Not the same without you though,” you reminded him, pulling away and lacing your pinky fingers together.

“Yeah, but Eren’s going, right? You can have fun with him.”

Your eyes immediately shot up at him. “Fun?”

“You know, uh- fun ,” he shrugged, a light blush covering his cheeks as he put his hands inside his pockets. It took you a couple of seconds to understand what he was implying.

“ Oh , okay,” you said, nodding your head softly. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s him, so,” Armin shrugged. You nodded and took his hand to your mouth, placing a kiss on his knuckles. “Still gonna miss you, though.”

Armin smiled, pulling you closer for one last kiss before you left his dorm.

• • •

Pieck’s parties were always a huge success. She only used to throw them twice a year and maybe that’s why they were so special. Everyone sent some money to her and she would make sure to buy enough alcohol and weed to keep everyone satisfied the rest of the night. A part of you thought it was almost impossible everyone’s donations could cover everything but Pieck always seemed more than pleased to put some of her own money for the party.

You had been friends with Pieck for quite some time now, hence why she let you bring some of your friends to the party. Last year you had brought Jean and Armin with you, which led to Jean and Pieck to start dating. You liked how good they looked with each other and that Jean had finally closed the Mikasa chapter and was trying something new. Pieck always seemed calm and collected, loving to nuzzle on Jean’s chest whenever they sat together. Nevertheless, you had also seen her break up a fight with her bare hands between two guys bigger than her. Since then you had a newfound respect and admiration for the brunette.

“Hey, where’s Armin?” Jean asked as he opened the door to let you and Eren inside.

“Got caught up with some projects,” you answered and Jean clicked his tongue. Eren and you took off your jackets and gave it to Jean for him to leave them in Pieck’s room.

“Sucks to be him. Porco and Reiner brought really good weed tonight,” he said as he made his way to the corridor.

Eren and you went to the living room, finding Pieck and her friends already starting with the bong. She complimented your dress and you grinned at her, spinning so she could see the back of it as well. After earning a couple of whistles from Pieck’s friends, you sat beside Eren.

“New dress?” he asked.

“Mmhm, bought it when Pieck said she was throwing another party,” you said. Eren laughed.

“I don’t know how you do this. I put on the first thing I saw in my closet,” he confessed and took the bong from Pieck. You took a moment to eye his black shirt and dark jeans.

“You don’t look so bad,” you commented, shrugging as Eren took a hit. “Is it really good?” you asked.

He hummed. “Want some?”

“I’d rather drink tonight. And last time I mixed weed and rum-”

“Yeah, I remember you sitting by the window with lost eyes like you were in another dimension” Eren chuckled, taking another hit. You hit him with one of the pillows to which he laughed harder.

Ever since the first time you had kissed him, Eren had made sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable around him. He behaved the same way he always did whenever he wasn’t thrusting inside of you as Armin stroked himself.  Somehow it was really comfortable to know your friendship wasn’t in danger, that even if it had shifted to something entirely different he still found it in him to playfully nudge you during class or let you copy his notes if you shared a class.

One hour later, Pieck’s place was packed with people. The music was loud, big speakers filling the apartment as people danced around. Pieck had set a table only for booze and you couldn’t count all the bottles even if you tried. Whiskey, vodka, rum and cans of beer were on display for anyone to take and even if everyone already looked more than a bit tipsy, there was still alcohol to spare.

You watched amused as Eren played beer pong with Reiner, the cups filled with one shot of vodka instead of beer. Reiner won by a very short difference, which made Eren call a rematch, which he finally won. You played your own match with Porco but with beer, winning the match on your first try and making sure to remind him every chance you got the rest of the night, laughing at his pouty face. After dancing with some of your friends, you spotted Eren sitting on one of the sofas and went to sit next to him, asking how he was doing. Even if he swore he was okay, you noticed his head slightly swaying. You suggested dancing it off.

Next thing you knew, one of Eren’s hands was set on your hip as the other was placed on the small of your back, while you had your arms around his neck. The way his hips moving filling your mind with ideas of you riding him, his cock deep inside you as he grabbed your hair in his fist. Your eyes locked on his green ones for one moment before quickly shifting your gaze anywhere else but him. Even if you knew that if you were to make an advance he would be more than willing, you kept repeating to yourself that you weren’t alone. Pieck’s entire apartment was filled with people that knew you were Armin’s girlfriend. Honestly, most of them would take a second look if they saw how close Eren and you were dancing

Eren’s thigh moved forward until they were between your legs, your hips moving on their own against him. You cursed under your breath and then let out a small chuckle, looking back at your friend.

“You’re such an asshole,” you said. Eren raised his eyebrows, amused.

“Am I?”

Before you could reply, Eren had taken both of your hands and in a swift movement, made you spin until your back was against his chest. Not letting go of your hands, he placed them on top of your hips, pulling your ass against his crotch as he kept moving his hips to the beat of the song.

You felt as if every vodka shot you had taken with Pieck had gone straight to your head at once.

“Keep dancing,” Eren whispered against your ear, his voice sending bolts of pleasure directly between your legs.

Moving your hips to the music, you tried to focus on anything other than Eren’s semi-hard cock grinding against your ass. You looked around, afraid someone was going to notice but everyone seemed to be occupied on their own. You noticed Pieck straddling Jean on the couch as she danced on top of him, some other couples making out against the walls or dancing even more lavishly than you and Eren were. Still, you felt your knees getting weaker as you kept feeling his breath against your neck.

You arched your back and started throwing your hips back, your ass bouncing against Eren’s crotch along with the beat of the music. You felt his hands tensing over yours, grabbing your hips much harder as you danced.

Maybe nothing else would have happened if you hadn’t looked over your shoulder. Maybe someone would have whistled and you would have been brought to reality, remembering what everyone thought your status was and how inappropriate they were acting. But you did look over your shoulder, eyes locking for a couple of seconds with Eren, which was more than enough for him to drag you to one of the bathrooms and locking the door behind you.

Eren kissed you roughly as your back hit the bathroom sink, his hands roaming around your body.

“Wait, fuck- can we- is it okay if he?” he tried to ask in between the kiss, his body and mind colliding against each other.

“Yeah,” you said breathless, running up your hands across his back. “He said it was fine.”

That was all Eren needed for his hands to travel up your legs and underneath your small dress. He tugged on your panties and lowered them to the ground and you stepped away, letting him pick them up and storing them in his back pocket. He stood up again, his lips colliding with yours as he grabbed the back of your thighs, helping you get on the counter. His mouth travelled down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses until they reached the mount of your breasts, pressing his face against them and nipping on the skin gently, making sure not to leave marks.

He started lowering, kissing your stomach over your dress with his green eyes on yours as he sunk to his knees. His fingers trailed your skin from your ankles up to your thighs, spreading your legs apart gently until your pussy was in front of him. You looked at him, chest rising up and down from your ragged breathing as you watched him leave small kisses on the inside of your thighs.

“Only fair you get to come on my face this time,” he said. Not even the music outside the bathroom was loud enough for you not to hear him clearly, your legs twitching at his words. He smirked and pulled your legs apart wider as he trailed up a slow path of small kisses to your pussy.

As soon as he pressed his lips against your folds, both you and him noticed how wet you were. He hummed, the vibration of his voice making you breathe heavily, biting back a moan. Eren licked across your slit, collecting all your wetness with his tongue. It was the first time he was going down on you and damn if you weren’t already lightheaded. Plus, the fact you were doing it in your friend’s bathroom with everyone outside added a sultry element you seemed to enjoy.

Eren placed his mouth on you again, his tongue drawing teasing circles around your clit. You whimpered, your hand going to tangle on his hair, messy bun a bit dishevelled. He groaned against you, loving every time you pulled his locks and used the flat part of his tongue on your clit, earning new moans from you. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder as he pushed the other one a little further apart, his mouth still moving on you.

He sucked gently on your clit and you threw your head back, hitting yourself with the mirror.

“Fuck-- Eren, please ,” you panted, your hips bucking against his face. Eren dug his fingers on the plush of your thighs as he kept moving his tongue, getting you closer and closer to your limit.

Eren began lapping exactly where you needed him, a hand shooting to your mouth to muffle your sounds as you whined. Your other hand tightened its hold on Eren’s hair. He let you keep his head in place as you rolled your hips against his face, setting your own rhythm as he saw you search for your high. As soon as he noticed your hips stuttering, its movements desperate, he grabbed your legs still again, his tongue directly playing with your clit.

You came on his mouth, a hand over your own as you tried your best not to make too much noise. Eren stayed a couple of moments after your orgasm, giving your pussy slow, delicate licks to help you ride your orgasm off.

“Told ya’ I owed you,” he huffed playfully, making you remember what he had told you after the first time you had given him head. You chuckled as he stood up, kissing you languidly. You could taste yourself in his mouth, your body reacting to him as if you couldn’t do anything else but press yourself against him.

Your hands started unbuttoning his shirt as he kissed your neck. Long ago you had come up with the rule of not leaving any marks on your skin. As much as you loved finding bruises and love bites whenever you were showering, you preferred that to be a thing just between Armin and you. Since you had made that request, Eren had been extremely gentle whenever he kissed your skin, letting his lips drag across your skin teasingly before placing a soft kiss.

“How do you like it?” he asked.

“Huh?” you asked, letting his shirt fall to the floor, your hands caressing his toned chest.

“Well, this is a fantasy,” he said, pulling away so he could look at your face, his lips brushing against yours. “So I want to make you feel good.”

Eren didn’t miss the way your legs clenched on either side of his waist. He went back to kissing the other side of your neck as you made up your mind, hands roaming around his back and hair as he did so.

He didn’t have to wait long for your answer.

“I want you to be rough with me,” you sighed. Eren pulled away once more and looked at you, one of his hands palming your breast.

“How rough?”

“Until I tell you to stop,” you breathed out, your back arching at his ministrations. Eren nodded and kissed you again, his tongue entering your mouth as you once again started losing focus of everyone that was happening.

In that moment, your mind was filled with his hand playing with your tits while the other one went back to your folds, his index and middle finger rubbing soft circles, making you moan against your mouth. Eren pulled away from you and you watched him take out his wallet and then a condom from it. He put it between his teeth and then undid his jeans, letting them fall to his ankles along with his underwear.

You could never get used to seeing Eren’s cock. A part of your brain still was shocked as you tried to remember this was your new normal, getting railed by your friend with your boyfriend’s permission. Your hand closed around his length and you started pumping him, his tip already leaking precum. Eren ripped the condom package and rolled it over himself all the way to the base.

You leaned over to kiss him again, this time his lips moving rougher on you. You tried locking your legs around his waist, wanting to feel his cock against you. Instead, Eren grabbed both your legs and yanked you down the counter and onto the floor. You stumbled a bit on your high heels but he quickly turned you around and bent you over the bathroom sink.

Eren lifted your dress until it was resting on your waist, your ass exposed to him. He parted your legs with his foot and then lined up his cock with your entrance. Only a couple of inches inside you was enough for you to let out a high-pitched moan, your hands grabbing on the faucet desperately, the stretch making your head spin.

A hard slap fell against your ass.

“Keep it the fuck down. Do you want everyone to know your boyfriend’s friend has his cock inside you?” he hissed. The determination of his voice made you clench around him. Eren grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your hair up, forcing you to look at your own reflection in the mirror.

You watched your eyes and parted lips as Eren kept pushing inside of you, a whimper escaping your lips once he bottomed out. He took your hands and put them against the mirror. His own hands slid down your back until they settled on your hips. He started thrusting against you, your breath creating a fog on the mirror in front of you. You let your head fall, biting your lip as he kept moving his hips.

One of Eren’s hands went to your jaw, making you look at yourself in the mirror once more. You could not only see your face flushed with desire but also how his hair was almost completely loose and falling over his forehead as he kept thrusting against you.

“Look at yourself. You love being fucked as a slut, don’t you?”

Once again his words stirred something deep inside you. You desperately tried to hold on to something, your hands sliding down against the mirror until you positioned them correctly again. Eren smacked your ass hard again.

“I asked a fucking question,” he grunted, giving a particularly harsh thrust.

“Yes- fuck, yes, I do,” you panted. Eren picked up his face and you felt your legs falter. “Keep going, please.”

His hand went back to holding your head up by your hair, the other one gripping your ass firmly. Eren’s grunts were barely audible due to the music outside but made you melt every time you heard them. You started moving your hips back, meeting his thrusts as you did your best not to make too much noise.

Eren slapped your ass again, making you clench against him. He threw his head back, cursing under his breath and let his hand fall on your ass once more. Only a couple more thrusts were needed for you to come around him as well, one of your hands flying to your mouth to try and muffle your loud moans.

You heard Eren curse again and fasten his pace, letting go of your hair and settling both his hands on your hips. His orgasm followed a few moments later and you heard him groan, his cock twitching inside of you. You squeezed him as he came down from his high, earning a soft chuckle from the man behind you.

“Stop, I literally have nothing left,” he joked, removing himself from you and discarding the condom in the bathroom bin.

You laughed along as he helped you stand up again, lowering your dress in the process. Thanking him, you looked at your reflection again, cleaning the eyeliner smudge on the outside corner of your eyes and fixing your hair. Eren pulled up his underwear and pants and once his clothes were back in place, he handed you your panties that he had put inside his pockets.

“I can’t come out of this bathroom holding my panties,” you reminded him with a soft laugh. “Can you like- keep them for a moment? Once we leave this place you can hand them back.”

“Sure, sure,” Eren said, putting your panties back in his pocket. You looked at each other in the eyes and couldn’t help but burst into laughter once more.

“I’ll leave first, wait a bit before going outside,” you instructed him and Eren nodded, leaning against the counter and taking out his phone to keep himself distracted as he waited.

Nobody noticed you leaving the bathroom, nor the funny way you were walking. You grabbed one of the beers from the table and plopped on one of the sofas. You observed your surroundings and wondered if time had really passed as everything seemed to be the same. Jean and Pieck were now making out in the same sofa she had been dancing on and nobody spared a second glance at you.

You felt someone sitting down next to you, opening a can of beer as well. You turned to the side and saw Eren, his hair tied on a half-bun again and looking visibly refreshed. His eyes locked with yours and he smirked.

You clinked your beer cans. You sure knew how to keep a secret.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Drabble#1)

Summary: Jungkook gets jealous when he sees your nobody ex trying to dance with you and you are as oblivious as ever.

Pairing: Always You!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 4k (sorry)

Warnings: jealous jk, light choking, spanking, orgasm denial, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, blindfolds, restraints, oc says sir like once lol

Notes: lol I miss them. Anyway enjoy guys! lets chat if ya want:)

© taestefully-in-luv

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook is new to this whole relationship thing, like for real for real. He constantly wants everything to be perfect and to go smoothly but what happens when your ex makes an appearance at the bar you���re all at? And you haven’t mentioned that Jungkook is your boyfriend now not just your best friend.

Jungkook needs you to say something before he does and if he is the one who has to do it he’s going to somehow feel like a dick. You’ve drank just enough to become that right amount of tipsy, right amount meaning you find everything funny. Your ex isn’t even that funny? Your ex also bellows over every now and then when you talk and Jungkook thinks damn are you even that funny? Like, why is he laughing so much? Jungkook looks over at the two of you and awkwardly smiles. He reaches his hand out and squeezes your thigh but you barely react! You continue talking to what’s his face and what’s his face completely ignores Jungkook’s obvious territorial hand.

“And you live there now? That’s amazing!” You yell out over the music, “Jungkook and I live—”

“Wow, you two still live together?” What’s his face asks and Jungkook is nodding his head, not amused with the conversation.

“Oh, we recently just started living together again.” You mention shyly.

“Oh? You two always have been really close.”

“Oh, actually we are—”

“y/n!!” Jimin runs up to you three at the bar, he breathes out heavily from all the dancing he’s done tonight.

“Hi.” You slightly slur towards your friend.

“Come and dance with me and Tae!” He gives what’s his face a quick nod. “You too, Jungkook.” He says now facing Jungkook and his face immediately falls when he notices Jungkook’s tense state. But then he’s smirking.

“Want to come dance with us too?” Jimin asks what’s his face and Jungkook groans out loud, literally out loud.

Jungkook is trying to behave. Being a boyfriend is new to him and his relationship with you is still fresh. But when is he allowed to show the world you’re his. He wants to show this entire bar of people that you belong to him. Oh god, is that possessive? Jungkook groans into his hands, sighing out in frustration. He doesn’t want to come across as possessive…is that annoying? Or maybe you find it sexy? He doesn’t fucking know!

But what he does know is he’s starting to get real pissed off at the way your ex leans into your space every time you two giggle. Jungkook scoots his bar stool closer to you and his arm pulls you into his side. You turn your head to face him and you smile. Jungkook melts right then and there as soon as he sees your lips curve into some dopey ass grin and he tightens his grip around your waist.

“What’s up baby?” you chirp happily.

“Come sit in my lap.” Jungkook softly commands, he’s already dragging you over to him and you barely protest.

“Why? So we can watch you two make out?” You hear Jimin whine from behind you three. “Again.”

Your ex watches you two with careful eyes and nods towards all of you,

“I’ll see you guys on the dance floor.”

Did Jungkook not make his point? Was this not super obvious? Should he have kissed you in front of him? Fuck you on this bar top to make a point?

You know that phrase when you’re angry… “All I see is red”? Well, Jungkook never understood that. He would think “How the fuck do you see red?” but now, he’s sort of starting to understand.

Because he sees nothing but cloudy red waves in his vision or at least a really bold orange color. He wouldn’t call this anger…no, more like pure fucking annoyance and irritation. And you? You have no idea…

“y/n” Jimin calls for you, “Let’s go dance!”

“Yeah, let’s dance!!” Taehyung claps his hands excitedly as he makes his way you to guys.

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek as he looks between all of you. He just got you in his lap, surely you won’t say yes.

“Yes!” you yell out over the music. “You coming babe?” You look at Jungkook who just shakes his head slowly.

“You sure?” you ask, “I can stay if you want..”

“No, it’s okay baby. Go, have fun. I’m just going to drink.” He squeezes your thigh and you smile, leaning down to kiss him.

You stand from his lap, and you, Jimin and Taehyung make your way to the dance floor. You guys find a spot in the center, many bodies covering Jungkook’s view of you and it’s admittedly driving him nuts. He wants to at least to be able to see you. But alas, he has no view.

Maybe 30 minutes and 4 whiskeys later Jungkook has decided he has had enough, he’s going to just go to the dance floor and have a good time. He slowly approaches you three when he sees there’s a fourth person. Your fucking ex. And he’s trying his hardest to dance with you and you are barely fucking noticing. This guy has the audacity to snake a hand around your waist to steady you, but his hand lingers—And Jungkook now, finally really does see red.

Because what the fuck?

“y/n!” He calls out for you but you don’t hear him, you’re too lost in the music. You sway your hips from side to side, your hands in your hair and this dude goes behind you and tries dancing with you some more.

“y/n!” he finally gets to you and you open your eyes and give him a smile.

“Hi.” You slur out. Just slightly.

“Come here.” He reaches for your wrist when the dude stops Jungkook with the booming of his loud voice.

“Can’t you see we’re dancing?”

Red. Fiery red.

“Mine.” He growls. He tightens his grip on your wrist and you finally register something is wrong.

“What’s going on?” your innocent voice doesn’t do much to help Jungkook’s anger, just fuels it.

“We’re going home.” He says lowly, giving both Jimin and Taehyung a curt nod and turning around to face you. “Now.”

“But I don’t want to go home.” You whine, basically stomping your feet. “I want to dance with my friends, and you.”

“No.” he groans, his voice deeper than usual. “We’re going home and we’re having a talk.”

“Can’t we just talk here?” you fold your arms over your chest, “I don’t want to go home.”

“y/n.” Jungkook warns. “Don’t choose now to be a brat.”

“So what if I’m bratty?” you pout, “What are you going to do?” you can’t help but challenge him. Jungkook quirks a brow at you and frowns.

“You want to be this way? Fine.” Jungkook turns towards the other side of the bar, dragging you along with him. He’s walking like he’s on a god damn mission and you’re struggling to follow behind him thanks to your heels.

“You’re sure about this?” Jungkook snaps his head to speak to you.

“Sure about what?” you feel intimidated by his dark gaze, he looks at you with narrowed eyes and you shudder.

“You sure you won’t just listen to me?”

“Nope, don’t wanna.”

“Didn’t think so.” And with that Jungkook pulls you into the hall where the bathrooms are and knocks on one of the doors. When there’s no answer he swings open the door and lightly shoves you inside.

“Still gonna be a brat? Still won’t listen?”

“So what if I am?” you answer his first question, “What are you going to—” Jungkook cuts you with his lips on yours. He adds a lot of pressure into the kiss like he’s mad and desperate. His fingers drag up the front of your body until they’re crawling up your throat and wrapping around it. You gasp when he lightly squeezes. His other hand makes it way to your ass, he grabs onto it and pushes you into his crotch.

“Jungkook—”

“No.” Jungkook breaths out heavily, “I’m going to show you what happens when you don’t listen.”

Jungkook goes back to kissing you, his tongue expertly exploring your mouth. You moan into his mouth and he pulls back from you.

“Bend over.” His deep voice commands. He looks at you with a serious and dark expression.

“W-What?”

“I said, bend over.”

You stare at Jungkook with disbelief filling your eyes. Surely he isn’t going to…no, there’s no way. These walls are paper thin and—

“Bend over baby.” He says a little more softly. “I’m going to spank you because you aren’t being a good girl.” He explains. “Only bad girls get spanked.”

“And I’m…bad?” you stutter out.

“Very.” Jungkook’s eyes grow even darker as he stares down at you, he licks his lips as he watches you shake your head.

“Jungkook, people will hear—”

“Who’s fault is that?”

“My…fault?”

“That’s right baby, you are mine. And I want you to be reminded of that.”

“I know I’m yours though…”

Jungkook chuckles bitterly, his hands going to his pants pockets.

“You need to let others know that too.” He nods his head in the direction of the bar, “People can get the wrong idea if you aren’t clear.”

“Babe…” you begin to blush, the idea of Jungkook spanking you in a bar bathroom gets you feeling really fucking hot.

“Now, be a good girl and bend over.” His sly smile grows on his face as he watches you bend over for him.

“L-Like this?” you ask, your hands on your knees as you shove your ass in the air. You whimper when you feel his hand go to grab a handful of your ass.

“Just like that baby.” He smiles, “Now lift your skirt for me and take off your panties.”

Your eyes go wide, he’s going to spank you bare?

“Now.”

There’s something about Jungkook that you listen…his voice, his gaze…god, you want him to fuck you.

You slip off your panties and lift your skirt over your hips, your ass proudly displayed.

“Give me your panties.” Jungkook commands, and you do. You hand him the piece of thin fabric and he stuffs them in his front pocket.

“Good girl.” He smirks, “I’m going to spank you 5 times okay?”

Before you can answer you feel his hand come down on your ass hard.

“This is all mine, right?”

Spank.

“No one else is allowed to even touch you, got it?”

Spank.

“Any other guys allowed to touch you?”

You release a high pitched moan as a response and Jungkook chuckles darkly, he shakes his head in disapproval.

“Words baby. I’ll ask you again…Any other guys allowed to touch you?”

Spank.

“N-No!” You whimper out, your legs are shaking. You feel the ache between your legs with each slap he offers your ass. Jungkook massages your cheeks, his fingers sliding down until he’s playing at your pussy.

“My girl getting wet from this?” He whispers to himself, his fingers gathering your juices and he plays at your clit causing you to moan loudly. Your whines bouncing off the bathroom walls.

“One more spank baby.”

His fingers leave your pussy, he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. Then he’s rubbing your cheeks again.

“P-Please Jungkook…” You practically beg for him to spank you and he laughs at how desperate you are for his touch.

“You’re all mine. Say it.”

“All you—”

And his hand is coming down on your ass for the last time, the sound echoes in the bathroom and you’re crying out in pleasure.

“Good girl.” Jungkook rubs your ass lovingly, “Should I fuck you now? Will you be so loud that this whole bar knows who you belong to?” He continues to massage where he hit.

“P-Please.” You beg, “Fuck me, Jungkook.”

“No.” he answers quickly. “ Your punishment is just beginning. You have to wait til we get home.”

“Jungkook…” You drag out his name between your teeth, you wiggle your ass in attempt to lure him into fucking you but it doesn’t work. He just laughs and spanks you lightly.

“Put your skirt back down and lets go.”

“I need to clean up…” You admit. Jungkook’s eyes travels to the your inner thighs where your slick has dripped.

“No.” Jungkook says softly, his eyes boring into your pussy. “I will do it.”

Jungkook goes behind you and squats to his knees, his face has that perfect view of your pussy. He holds on to your hips as he leans in, his tongue darting out to lick you clean. Your whole body goes tense at the contact, you want to be quiet. You need to be quiet. But god, his tongue feels so fucking good.

“Don’t stop!” you scream out, the pleasure taking its toll on your weak body, “Please!”

And Jungkook doesn’t stop, he continues licking at you, swirling his tongue over your clit, licking it, sucking it, and making it ache. The buildup happens so fucking fast, you don’t know if it’s because you two haven’t had sex since two days ago, or because you know people can hear you or because he’s just that fucking good.

“God, Jungkook…yes…yes…” You cry out, “So good baby.” You praise him and he groans into your pussy.

“I’m all yours!”

You can feel you orgasm quickly announcing its arrival, it has your toes curling and your legs shaking but right before you can fucking taste it…Jungkook detaches his mouth from you making everything just stop. It dies down so fast that you are left so dissatisfied.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, “I was just about to come!”

“I know.” He says with a smirk. “Only good girls get to come.”

“Jungkook, you asshole!” you say out of breath, you feel so incomplete. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise. I promise.” You repeat over and over, “Please let me come.”

“Maybe later tonight. Now let’s go.”

~~~~~~~

“Whatcha got there?” you ask Jungkook, he stands in front of you with something behind his back.

“3 questions for you baby…how do you feel about blindfolds?” he shows you the silky material in his hand and you feel your pussy ache.

“How do you feel about being tied up?” he shows you more silky material and then he winks at you. “And what’s your safe word?”

“I look forward to both,” you release a long breath “And Jupiter.”

He moves behind you, pulling your hair to the side and pressing soft kisses on the side of your neck. You moan at the feeling of his lips caressing your exposed skin. He then slowly drags his tongue on the delicate expanse of your throat and sucks bruises.

With his lips brushing against your ears, he whispers “I need you to trust me, okay bad girl?”

“I do trust you.”

Jungkook holds out the silky material out in front of your face and you shiver in anticipation, your pussy clenching at the sight. He carefully pulls it over your eyes and ties a knot behind your head, leaving you completely sightless. You see absolutely nothing.

“From now on when we meet people you introduce me, okay?” he says softly.

“Yes sir,” you whisper out and he groans, loving the name.

He presses himself up against your ass and you can feel how hard he is, god it’s driving you insane.

Jungkook leaves your body, making you feel lost without his touch…a few moments pass and you start to become antsy until you feels your arms being pulled back behind you and the feeling of silk wrap around your wrists.

“You’re all mine, right?”

“All yours…”

You stand at the foot of your shared bed in nothing but your lacey bra and panties, while being restrained in silk. He had you dress up for him. Jungkook stands by the wall, leaning against it as he admires you. You look so beautiful, so lost, so needy.

“Jungkook?” you call out, wondering where he has gone. His footsteps are light so you don’t feel him walk towards you but your body goes absolutely tense when you feel his finger tip drag extremely slowly across your bare stomach. You shudder at the contact that you were not expecting. You breathe in and out trying to calm yourself, anticipating his next move.

“Jungkook…” you whimper and he darkly chuckles. He presses himself against you and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“What do you want?”

“Your cock.” You admit through harsh breaths. “Want you to fuck me.”

“You really think you deserve my cock yet? I want to play with you first.”

Then he’s stepping away, all his heat gone with him. You’re left cold and lonely and trying to steady your breaths…you didn’t realize how intense this was going to be.

“Jungkook.” You whine, “I need you.”

But you don’t sense him near you at all, you begin to become antsy again. That is until you feel his feather like touch grazing across your stomach again and a long moan drags out between your lips. You feel him get closer to you, his fingers traveling to your breasts. He feels your hardening buds through the thin material of your bra and he grunts in approval. His hand travels south until his fingers are sliding down your stomach. He grips your hips tightly causing you to groan.

“Want to get touched baby girl?” He whispers over your lips and you cry out.

His fingers drag down to your covered pussy, touching your dampening folds.

“My god, you are soaked.” He comments. “You love when I touch you, don’t you?”

You only nod your head frantically but Jungkook grabs a hold of your jaw and says, “Not uh uh. Words, baby.”

“Loved being touched by you.” You whine.

“Let’s lie you down.”

He takes you by the shoulder and leads you down to lay in the middle of the bed, treating you so fucking delicately.

Jungkook steps away to remove all his clothing, leaving him in nothing but the skin he wears. He crawls onto the bed, momentarily hovering over you and leaning down until he’s kissing your throat again and sucking bruises into your neck.

“Have to mark you so others know you are taken.”

The sensation of his wet tongue leaves a chill behind in its tracks, giving you goosebumps all across your body. You release a few shaky breaths at the feeling.

“You’re my pretty girl.” Jungkook slides down the bed until he’s hovering over your hips, his hot breath fans over your desperate, needy cunt and you can’t help but cry out how badly you need him.

“Going to be a good girl for me?” He questions and you scream yes over and over.

Jungkook spreads your legs wide apart and lays down with his face just inches away from where you fucking need him. He lets the anticipation build for a moment as he fans his hot breath over your pussy, before he playfully moves the lace material to the side and licks a long strip between your folds. You can’t help the moan you let out at the contact of his warm tongue finally on your aching clit.

“Only I get you this wet?”

“Only you.” You pant out.

“That’s right baby.” He connects his lips to your clit and wraps them around it and sucks lightly. Being blindfolded has your senses going into overdrive, the sensations too fucking powerful. He licks, and sucks on your clit, each lap of his tongue sending you over the edge. Getting you closer and closer and ah, fuck. You can come, you want to come, you’re so fucking close…but then he pulls away again leaving you fucking frustrated.

“Jungkook!” You cry out, your body betraying you.

He’s silent, its making you feel even more on edge.

“Please baby, I’m so close.” You beg him, you feel overly sensitive.

Suddenly, you feel his fingers being shoved deliciously into your wet pussy, you cry out in surprise and pleasure as he curls his fingers into you. You’re moaning incoherently by now, not able to get out any real words as he finger fucks you.

“That’s it baby.” He praises, not slowing down. “Want my cock now?”

“Yes, fucking please, yes!” You beg. “Need you to fuck me, please fuck me. God, please fuck me.” Your words spill out of your mouth and Jungkook chuckles.

“Only because you’ve been so good.”

He lifts your legs and wraps them around his waist, you anticipate the feel of cock but Jungkook takes his sweet time.

He takes his throbbing cock in his hand and lines it up to your entrance, you moan at the feeling of him touching you but it’s not enough.

“Please.” You beg him again.

Jungkook very fucking slowly starts inserting his member into you, one inch at a time. You choke on air as you feel him start to bottom out. He feels incredible. You feel so full, you feel so satisfied. You wish he would stay inside you like this forever.

Jungkook falls forward, releasing short, deep breaths as he feels the way your walls tighten around him.

“So tight.” He mentions in a husky voice. “So fucking tight.”

He takes a moment to be inside you like this, breathing harshly into the crook of your neck. You start to get uncomfortable with your hands behind your back.

“Please, let me touch you.”

“You were bad tonight.” Jungkook breathes out, “You think you get to touch me?” He says while sliding his cock out of you before he’s slamming it back in. You whine and moan and feel so fucking overwhelmed.

“Please!”

Jungkook thrusts in and out of you over and over, his cock brushing that special spot inside that’s got you seeing stars. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s gotten to know your body over the last couple of months and he has not disappointed.

“Jungkook!” You scream his name and he grins down at you, loving his view. “Fuuuccckkkk.” You groan out as he continues fucking you faster and harder. His moans are no better than yours, his whine and whimpers filling the room. You feel so fucking good and look so fucking beautiful.

“Fuck, I’m going to come.” Jungkook admits, not slowing down. “Come with me?” he softly commands and you cry out in frustration.

“Let me touch you! Let me see you!”

“Not this time, my love.” His voice is strained as he tries to hold on for you, his fingers finding your clit as he rubs quick circles on it, getting you there faster.

“Fuck, please come,” he begs. “You’re allowed to come now baby” and you finally let go. You release moan after desperate moan. Your orgasm hitting you so fucking hard that it leaves you shaking and breathless. Jungkook finally comes as well, his hips stilling as he shoots his cum deep within you.

“Good girl, good girl.” He pants out, his body collapsing on top of yours. He stays inside you for a few moments as you both calm down. He caresses your cheek, his hand going to the back of your head as he slowly unties the blindfold…it falls from your face and your eyes are stained black with smeared makeup. He chuckles at the view, he finds you so fucking sexy.

“Good girl.” He says again, leaning in to kiss your lips. You kiss back instantly, and smile at him as you pull away.

“Untie me.” You request, and Jungkook lifts himself off you and helps you sit up. He unties the silk restraints around your wrists and throws the material off to the side.

“You did so good baby.” He leans in to kiss your cheek and you blush.

“All this because I didn’t introduce you to Ian?”

Ian, that’s that bastards name, Jungkook thinks.

“He was trying to dance with you…” Jungkook pouts, “He didn’t understand that you are mine.”

“I’ll be more cautious next time.” You promise. “And speaking of next time,” you say with a smirk, “It’ll be you tied up and blindfolded, not me.” You leave a quick kiss to his lips.

“Fuck, I would like that a lot.”

“Oh baby, I know.”

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (Pt.2) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART TWO

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png​, @bakugouswh0r3​, @yatoatyourservice​, @ayocee​, @marvel-ing-at-it-all​, @astrolcve 

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback and for reading my work <3 

< PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART >

----

He swings his beer over the counter, "one more."

He shouldn't be drinking. Imagine the damage it's doing to his organs, alcohol sweeping through his bloodstream and purging him of all coherent thought. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's nagging voice in his head even within the depths of intoxication.

Does he care though? He should. He should care. Because his job is basically to get people in their best shape.

And here he is, drinking away his sorrow, still shaken up by the way Hoisuke's fingers had grabbed for him that night. The bundle of nerves he'd squashed down had only intensified upon dropping his son on his mother's doorstep the same weekend and though he knew he should've said something to Mizune, he couldn't find the will to utter the words out, lest they came back to haunt him.

His phone buzzes in his pant pocket and after finishing it out with clumsy fingers, he manages to press down onto the green button.

"Yeah?"

"You're drinking!"

"No."

"Iwa-chan~" Oikawa's voice pierces through the receiver, sickly sweet and yet with a dark threatening undertone, "what are you doing?"

"Fuck off, shittykawa."

"Where are you?"

Iwaizumi doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, for Oikawa's already exclaiming the said bar's name as he takes another sip of his newly-filled beer glass.

"I thought you said you wouldn't drink anymore," Oikawa reproaches, "think of what Hoisuke would say--"

"I said fuck off."

There's a small pause where Oikawa bristles, before he says in a quieter tone, "what's wrong?"

Still, Iwaizumi says nothing but takes another huge gulp of his beer. His head feels buzzed, disoriented.

"Iwa-chan."

The said man press his lips in a taut line.

"Iwa-chaaaan."

"I'll talk to you later," Iwaizumi barely hears his friend's protests before he cuts off the call and downs the rest of his beer like a parched man, eyes narrowing towards anyone who dares reprimand him of his behaviour.

"One more," he rasps out towards the bartender, whose sending him a look that closely mimics one that clearly says he's had enough. But he scowls in response and that's enough to make the bartender's eyes slip away.

Seriously. What is wrong with him? It's already been four months goddamnit. Get over yourself. He wishes he could punch himself in the face. God, he sounds like a loser. He looks like one. And it's no wonder that his wife has left him for someone better, richer. Everything that he's not.

Not to forget that this wound will never leave their son's heart.

"One rum and coke please."

A presence lingers in his right and the brown-haired man turns with a glare at the ready, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line to scare whatever stranger that comes a little too close for his liking.

What the--

He stares at you. You stare back at him, just as dumbfounded. Looking the same, yet completely different.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Iwaizumi-san?"

He feels the sudden urge to hide his empty glass, "what--are you doing here?"

"Don't look so surprised, Iwaizumi-san," you chuckle at what you think is his flabbergasted expression, "I'm still twenty-six you know. I came here with a few of my friends."

His eyes slide towards the table in the far corner -- easy to spot since it's one of the loudest -- before he almost misses your question, "and you?"

"I come here often."

"Ah I see."

As you pay the bartender who slides your drink over, you bristle for a bit before you ask hesitantly, "mind if I sit here?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head. It's not like he can say no after all. You're his kid's teacher. And shit, how many beers has he had? He better not run his mouth. It's a dirty habit of his whenever he's shit drunk.

"So," you start off slowly, looking so out of place next to the said man with a scowl so dark it can scare off the most violent of gangsters that the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth tilt upwards in amusement, "how's it going?"

Seriously? You're seriously going to do that? His gaze searches your features for a moment, satisfied when warmth floods your cheeks.

You look away, "you don't have to look at me like that, you know. I just thought you’d want some company."

"What makes you think that?” Iwaizumi says while he flags down another beer from the waiter. 

You blink at him, “I can go if you want--”

The man sighs, rubbing his temples with tiredness, “that’s not what I meant.”

A weird, empty gap of silence ensues. Long enough that Iwaizumi gets his fourth beer of the night in his hand and he takes a grateful swallow. 

He really should not be drinking so much.

"Where do you work?” 

You’re persistent. He’ll give you that, “personal trainer. I work at the sports academy.” 

“That’s cool,” there’s a small smile edging upon your lips, “you like it?”

He nods, pauses briefly, before asking, “do you?” 

Of course it’s a little too close for comfort, especially since you’re Hoisuke’s teacher and all. But you merely relax in your high stool, swinging your legs while nodding eagerly. He can’t help but notice the tightness of your dark jeans, your black high-heeled boots, “I don’t see myself working as anything else. I’m bad with people most of the time.”

Taking another swig of his beer, Iwaizumi feels the tension slowly ease up from his shoulders, “well you’re way better with kids than I am.”

“You’re pretty good with Hoisuke."

“That’s because you haven’t seen him throw tantrums.”

You laugh, "oh don't worry, I have. I know all about his little fits. All my kids have one, at some point."

You say it lightly, but there's definitely love laced in your words and for a minute, Iwaizumi thinks back to the way Hoisuke kept on praising you, the way he spoke so affectionately about you.

"Do you still play volleyball?" You ask him while sipping on your drink.

He mimics the gesture, "sometimes. The guys are all over town so it's harder to meet up now."

"Dang, your team was so good though."

"It was Oikawa that held us together. We weren't that good," he tastes the bitterness of Karasuno's victory on his tongue.

"That's not true," you protest, fiddling with your empty glass, "the only reason why I watched Aoba Johsai's games was because I liked watching you play."

Dark coffee-coloured orbs sweep up to yours at that statement, as if trying to peel layers off yout shell, as if wanting to confirm the truth of your words. You feel like cowering away but you don't, instead holding his stare in hopes that he doesn't notice how your hands tremble slightly underneath his scowl.

And then, features softening ever so slightly, he murmurs out, "thanks."

You know he means it in the best way possible.

-----

One drink turns to two. And two multiplies by four. And soon enough you're tipsy off your head and singing so blatantly off-key you wonder why Iwaizumi's still by your side. You haven't been this drunk in ages and this sense of freedom makes you bold; you tug him to the dance floor to join your friends, order shot after shot as the music gets louder and your head gets lighter, proceed to blabber your mouth off about literally anything and everything that by the end of the night, you wish the ground would swallow you whole so you won't have to deal with Iwaizumi the next day.

You're not entirely sure how you find yourself being dragged by none other than the said man himself, or how your nose is currently lodged in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. But he smells good, like citrus and a mixture of mint and-- you sniff a little more -- is that cookie dough? Your mouth waters just at the thought.

"You smell like cookie dough," the words tumble out of your mouth in a jumbled mess and you inwardly feel like stabbing yourself.

So pathetic. Pitiful really.

"That's Hoisuke," Iwaizumi replies, surprisingly patient even when he's clearly not impressed, glaring at the lamppost ahead, "it's his flavour of the month."

"That's cute!" You giggle, "just like you, Iwa!"

The man sighs while shifting his grip upon your waist, "let's just get you to bed."

You probably doze off at some point or black out because the next thing you see upon opening your eyes next is the ceiling.

Hoisting your head up and groaning when your head pounds in warning, you lie back down as nausea takes over.

Shit. This isn't your room. You know that much.

What the fuck happened last night?

You remember dancing atop tables, remember spotting Iwaizumi by the bar and talking to him because he just seemed so sad and lonely. You remember dragging him onto the dance floor, dancing together, his hands on your waist--

You danced with Iwaizumi?!

The thought is enough to trigger another pounding. You groan once more, placing your hand atop your head in hopes that it will stop it from throbbing. It doesn't. But before you have more time to wallow in your self-pity, the door creaks open and your eyes almost pop out of your head when you spot a mop of brown spiky hair enter the room.

Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck. Your brain short circuits. Fuck fuck fuck.

Surprise crosses his face, clearly having not expected you to be awake yet. He walks over to place a glass of water by the nightstand and grabs your palm to tilt two aspirins into your hand.

"How's your head?" He asks.

"Fine," you wince. It's far from fine. In response, he holds out the glass and you gladly wash down the pills, warm and feeling suddenly vulerable under his stare.

Chewing onto the inside of your cheek, you muster up all your courage to ask, "what--happened last night?"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows shoot up, "you don't remember?"

"...no."

Is that amusement dancing in his eyes? You're not sure since it's gone just as quickly as it came before he says, "you got drunk. Danced on the table, had too many shots and made out with two different men--"

"I'm pretty sure the last part didn't happen."

"You said you didn't remember," he smirks lightly.

"I can't even flirt, let alone kiss strangers."

That earns you a chuckle from his part, causing your heart to flutter slightly as he straightens up, "you probably want to wash up. Bathroom's on the right. I'm in the kitchen if you need me."

"Okay," and as he turns away, you quickly add, "thanks, Iwaizumi-san."

He nods back, exiting the room and finally allowing you to collapse back against the bed to try slowing down your galloping heart. Jesus christ, you think to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings. From the lack of furniture and with only a few clothes flung over a wooden desk chair shoved in the right, you guess it's his room. A closed laptop and a small plant sits on his desk. On the left is the nightstand filled with sports books and some manga, a closet shoved in a corner and the floor is made in veneered wood.

There's no sign of family pictures, nothing that indicates the warmth of a cosy household. It doesn't take a genius to understand why. While Hoisuke had begged you not to tell his father, you weren't a stranger to the young boy sobbing in-between breaks because he misses his mother.

Well, it's not like you're allowed into family affairs anyway, as much as that breaks your heart.

After a much needed shower and a quick brush of your teeth -- you had to make do with using your fingers with his toothpaste, too embarrassed to actually ask him whether he had a spare toothbrush -- you walk out into the kitchen to see Iwaizumi already seated at a quaint wooden table laden with eggs and toast. Behind him sits the kitchen stove and white countertops next to a fridge fitting snuggly on the left corner. On the far right of the room is a large dark grey couch and a tv set, and just behind it is a small hallway which seems to be the entrance -- guessing by the coat rack and array of shoes. 

"Sunny side up or boiled?" Iwaizumi asks as you take a seat opposite him. He has already poured you a cup of strong coffee and you inhale before sighing in bliss. Your headache already feels slightly better.

"Anything is fi--" you're interrupted by his scowl, quickly changing your answer to, "sunny-side up please."

He grunts, passes you the plate and digs into his own fried eggs, the soft boiled ones forgotten at the centre of the table.

"Uhm, forgive me for point it out, but that's a lot of food Iwaizumi-san," you mumble out, not missing the way his features harden slightly.

"Force of habit," he mutters in-between mouthfuls. He doesn't need to say more, for you're pretty certain he's referring to the family he used to have, those lazy Sunday mornings that started out with brunch.

You eat in companionable silence and though it'a definitely less awkward than last night, your mind still races trying to figure out what to say to erase the permanent furrow between his brows.

Or is that his normal demeanour? To be honest, you're not quite sure yourself.

So you settle for thanking him for last night, to which he replies, "do you usually drink that much?"

"No," you duck your head, avert your gaze, "I got carried away. I'm really sorry."

"Well I wouldn't have expected my kid's teacher to be that wild," he muses while taking a bite of his toast.

Alarm zaps through you, making your eyes go wide, "I swear I'm not usually like that, really. I just--this was an exception--"

"It's fine, miss Y/N. I know," his brown pupils lock onto yours briefly, "I'm not going to report you."

"I--" nothing can really make up for your behaviour last night. You know that much, "still, I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate," you glance up, chest tightening at the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Unwavering.

He cocks his head at you then, a semblance of a smile along his mouth, "I was pretty entertained, if you ask me."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. But let's just say that you won't want to show your face around for the next week or so."

You groan and bury your face in your hands, "what did I do?"

"You might've broken a beer glass or two," he gives you a look, "on purpose. And tried to steal the Dj's headphones cause he wasn't putting the music you requested."

"Oh god," you want to bury yourself right then and there and to your surprise, you see him laugh softly before he nudges your coffee towards you.

"Drink," he orders, "it'll make you feel less shitty."

You're about to retort with a roll of your eyes, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the way Iwaizumi tenses, you know it's not just the mail man.

Excusing himself to go unlock the door as you twist in your seat to follow his figure, shock courses through you the moment your eyes land on Hoisuke's.

Then, his mother.

An alarm bell rings through your mind.

"I thought you said evening," comes Iwaizumi's grunt, totally unlike the guy who'd been chuckling a few seconds ago.

"Hoisuke wanted to come back early for some reason," the woman says, her gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment. It's enough to cause you to swallow hard. She continues, "I'll pick him up on--"

"Miss Y/N?!" Hoisuke shouts out suddenly and before you know it, you're being tackled into the child's arms as if you haven't seen each other forever, "what are you doing here?! Daddy!" he whips his head around in accusation, "you lied about not really really liking Miss Y/N!"

"Wha--No!" Iwaizumi yells as you frown in confusion, "huh?"

"Daddy said that really really liking someone means you wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with them, like he was with Mama before she moved houses," Hoisuke blabbers on, totally oblivious to how the three of you keep on staring at him in growing alarm, "and then I asked him if he really really liked miss Y/N because I really really like miss Y/N but he said no, but that's a lie!"

"Hajime, what is he talking about?" His ex-wife is quick to narrow her eyes, "what have you been telling him?"

"Nothing, it's not what you think--"

"I think," she pointedly glances at you, "I should leave now. We'll talk about this later."

And with that, she swivels around and storms out, leaving the three of you to stare after her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hoisuke, oblivious to the sudden tension, blurts out, "daddy, why is Mama angry with you?"

----

The few weeks following the tiny incident that had resulted in an awkward misunderstanding between you, Hoisuke’s parents and the said child himself had caused you to retreat back into the shell of professionalism that included avoiding Iwaizumi whenever it was deemed possible. It hadn’t been hard since he was usually present and waiting outside class to pick up Hoisuke right on time, making it much easier to avoid conversation with him altogether. 

You’d texted iwaizumi right after reaching your humble abode the day he’d practically saved your drunk ass and though you spent a few spare moments to chat in-between the bustling activities of life, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still Hoisuke’s father, one of your dearest students. That, and the fact that you don’t really find it fair to put Hoisuke in-between the two of you, if there’s anything worth digging for anyway. 

Who are you kidding? It’s not like Iwaizumi would ever be interested in you in that sense. Having spotted his ex-wife once or twice proved that his style was of more refined women, the type that would drink wine instead of chug down beer and who’d enjoy gifts such as perfume and romantic dates instead of going on grocery trips and meal-prepping for the entire week. 

“Miss Y/N!” Hoisuke’s voice pierces through your thought bubble and your eyes quickly find his grin as he jumps towards your desk, "are you coming to our house this weekend too?!"

"Wh--What? Uhm-- no I don't think so--" eyes quickly flitting over the classroom, you're relieved to find that the rest of his classmates are long gone, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"But why? I even told Mama that I wouldn't be coming this weekend because you were," he pouted and it took all of your determination not to melt, until his words registered in your brain and your eyes widened, "o--oh, but that's--"

"Hoisuke?" You both turn to see his father's head poking through the door. Your body reacts instantly, warmth flooding through your limbs and flushing through your cheeks.

"Daddy!"

"H-Hello, Iwaizumi-san," you bow your head slightly. He returns the gesture, facial expression not giving anything away. His son bounds up to him with just as much vigor, "daddy, can we invite miss Y/N this weekend too?"

You might have laughed at Iwaizumi's shocked face if not for the fact that you are the person in question.

He splutters, "Miss Y/N has things to do--"

"But she came last weekend!"

"Yes well, it's bad manners to impose on someone when they're not free," Iwaizumi replies sternly, "come on now, we're gonna be late for Karate."

With a loud sigh and a scowl that resembles so much like his father, Hoisuke mutters out his goodbyes while Iwaizumi catches your eye, bowing slightly and muttering a silent "sorry" before he guides his son out of the room. You're glad he's out of earshot that he can't hear the stuttering of your heart against your chest.

You place a hand on your chest, sigh tiredly before looking down at your students' papers, "get a grip, Y/N," you mutter to yourself.

But it's not that easy to control yourself when Iwaizumi is making it so easy to like him.

----

Iwaizumi: sorry about yesterday. 

Y/N: it's okay. Hoisuke’s young, it's normal for him to want for a motherly figure around.

Iwaizumi's fingers drum over his knee as he watches with slight interest the newest male volleyball team practice their serves. He shouts after a few, calling them out for theit lazy postures, but other than that he can't seem to stop his thoughts from winding their way back to you.

"Who is she?" Mizune had asked him on the phone on the day following their encounter. Her tone was friendly, yet held that tone of warning that he was so accustomed to.

"How does that concern you?"

"I want to know who you're bringing around to hang out with Hoisuke."

"She's an acquaintance of mine," he paused, "and Hoisuke's teacher."

"That's inapropriate if you ask me."

Scoffing, he replied, "like what you did's so appropriate?"

A small pause ensued. When she spoke next, there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

"You can't keep using that against me, Hajime."

"Don't tell me who I can or can't hang out with."

He'd hung up without bothering to wait for her response, seething and red hot with rage blubbering through his stomach.

Of course now that he thinks it over, Mizune has a point. Mixing the professional and the personal have never ended in happy endings. Not that this has ever stopped him before. He doesn't believe in what everyone else thinks is right. That's also one of the main reasons why Mizune couldn't handle it anymore. Or so she said before she went to suck someone else's dick.

His phone vibrates and fishing it out, a scowl instantly shadows his face upon seeing Oikawa's name flash across the screen.

Oikawa: Iwa-chan ~ have you asked her out yet?

Iwaizumi has to force himself to stay in control and not pound his phone to pieces when he types out his reply.

Iwaizumi: No.

Oikawa: BUT WHYYYY~ YOU SAID YOU FOUND HER CUTE.

Oikawa: and Hoisuke likes her. He already knows her.

Iwaizumi: I didn’t say that. And she's not interested.

Oikawa: Just because you suck at picking up cues doesn't mean she isn't throwing them at you 😏😏😏

Iwaizumi: shut up, shittykawa.

Oikawa: Just do it or I'll do it for you.

Iwaizumi: I don't even like her that way.

Oikawa: why'd you rant about not wanting to hurt her feelings yesterday night then?

Iwaizumi's hand rubs at his face with a groan. Oikawa's a little shit most of the time, but he's a perceptive little shit.

Oikawa: I mean it. Ask her out or I'll do it for you.

Oikawa: gotta go now. Match is starting. See ya!~ muah ❤

"Dumbass," Iwaizumi growls under his breath before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Easier said than done to ask someone out so casually, especially when she's Hoisuke's teacher.

If she accepts, great. If she doesn't, he'll have to suffer through humiliation for the rest of the year or avoid picking up Hoisuke altogether.

Oh fuck it.

He lets his body send the message before his brain can catch up to the way he has thrown himself under the bus, shoves his phone back into his pocket and tries to put the thought out of his mind even though the device suddenly feels hot and heavy in his pant pocket.

Iwaizumi: we're having takeout and movie night on Friday. You're free to join.

----

[likeshipsonthesea]

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

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

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

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

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

Nursey squints.

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

What the fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

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

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

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

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

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

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

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

[sarcasmandships]

honey and glass ~ spencer reid

i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau

spencer reid x reader angst + hurt/comfort (sorta, it’s all in first person but with no names/no specific descrptions)

song fic inspired by ‘honey and glass’ by peyton cardoza

word count: 4.8k

disclaimer: i do not ship jeid or think they had any chemistry but it’s a good opportunity for angst x

you know those kinds of girls who look like they're made of honey and glass like sticky sweet ash

it’s a summers night in california and i’m on the beach at sunset.

the sand is rough under my toes and a warm, gentle breeze blows a strand of my hair across my face; he lifts his hand to brush it away. tucking it behind my ear he stares down at me and the sun hits his face at a perfect angle, illuminating his hazel eyes like pools of honey. he leans in and i-

“ow!” i yelp, as morgan launches the volleyball at my head, “what was that for?”  

“come and play,” he laughs, waving me over to where he stands with emily and hotch.

i shake my head, “no, i don’t feel like it,” i mumble, massaging my left temple where the ball bounced off my skull.

morgan rolls his eyes and jogs past where i’m sitting to collect the ball, “what’s up with you then?” he teases.

i shrug, “nothing. I’m just tired,” i say feigning an unconvincing yawn, “ask one of them to play.”  

i motion with my head towards spencer and jj, they’re down by the edge of the waves and she throws her head back and laughs at something he says. her sheets of blonde hair ripple through the wind and he looks at her in pure awe and amazement as she giggles at something he said.

“nah, don’t wanna interrupt the kid when he’s trying to make a move,” morgan shrugs, “come play with us, we need an extra person.”

an extra person.

right.

because what else am i but another body to fill the space?

“i don’t want to,” i say, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from jj and spencer as i stand up, “hotch said the jet is leaving first thing tomorrow, i’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”

morgan says something, but i don’t register it as i allow myself one last glance at spencer and jj. she is trying to convince him to paddle in the waves with her, he shakes his head but when she takes his hand in hers i can tell he’s melting inside as he follows her into the water.

and i just know that he’d follow her so far out to sea that his head was underwater as long as she kept their hands intertwined.

i turn away from morgan so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes.

and you can't get the taste off your tongue burnt sugar and a little bit of rum

we’re in a dimly lit bar somewhere.

hotch left hours ago, he wanted to take advantage of one of the rare nights he would be there to read jack a bedtime story.

rossi is at a table in the corner, sitting with a woman who has not-so-subtly draped her leg over him.

derek is out of my line of sight and i’m thankful for that.

emily, garcia, and jj are dancing.

i sit at the table with spencer, he’s drunk.

more tipsy than drunk i think, but he so rarely drinks anything that the sight of him swaying along to the music was an anomaly. i can’t ignore the fact that his eyes are firmly fixed on jj as she dances, and i grip my wine glass so tightly i half expect it to shatter in my hand.

he leans across to me and my heart skips a beat as i inhale the alcohol on his breath, “i’m in love with her, y’know,” he slurs.

“i know, spencer,” i smile sadly and down the rest of my wine.

he doesn’t even notice when i grab my coat from behind him and shuffle towards the door.

and she dances in the rain with her clothes on drenched to the bone never knows when she's all gone, she's the life of the party

spencer and i are watching the big bang theory.

neither of us particularly like it, but there aren’t many channels on our hotel room tv and spencer enjoys the physics references at least. i watch his face light up as a character mentions something about quantum theory that i cant understand, and spencer launches into a rant about the universe and the stars.

i don’t have the knowledge to keep up with him or the heart to tell him to stop so i sit and listen, admiring the way his eyes sparkle and his hands gesticulate when no one interrupts him with a deprecating comment.

we sit there like that for the rest of the night, in our respective twin beds with him telling me the secrets of the universe and me wondering how on earth i will ever get over him.

and deep down I know that nobody flinches when she takes off her clothes

“anything you like?” emily asks me through the dressing room curtain.

“i’m not sure…” i mumble in response, biting down on my lip as i stare at myself in the mirror, “i-i don’t think this is my colour.”

the dress looked so beautiful on the hanger, but now that it’s on my body the fabric bunches up in all the wrong places and i can’t recall a time that i’ve looked worse.

the lights are just washing you out, i tell myself.

you’re having a bad hair day, it would look better with your hair down, i tell myself.

you just need some lipstick, i tell myself.

but when jj announces she has found the perfect dress and i stick my head out of the curtain to see her, i am slapped in the face with the realisation that it isn’t the lighting or my lack of makeup it’s just me.

because jj looks beautiful as always, her dress hugs her waist and the skirt fans out around her as emily demands she gives us a spin. she isn’t wearing makeup, her hair is in a ponytail too, the lights don’t wash her out because she is radiant and flawless, and the lights aren’t the problem.

i am.

i cry in my car as i drive home from the mall, and when i get home i tear everything out of my fridge and fling it into the trashcan. i vow to go to the store and stock up on salad and chicken.

i go to the store but i don’t buy salad.

and I wonder what it's like to be one of those girls to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think, "wow, am i enough?" ‘cause life is easy when you know that you're the main character

i’m in hotch’s office as he grills me about a stupid mistake i made in the field. i can hardly focus on his words as i shrink back in the chair, counting all the reasons that i don’t deserve to be in this job.

i’m not as smart or fast or strong as the others. i don’t have an eidetic memory or hacker skills and i can’t even maintain myself as a solid average agent because i keep fucking up.

“i’m not going to write you up,” he says, and my heart soars a little in my chest, “but i need you to understand that if you do something like that again i won’t have any choice, you were lucky no one got hurt today.”

i nod silently and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“go home, get some rest,” he says and i don’t hang around for a second longer, darting out of his office i crash headfirst into a tall frame.

“wow, slow down,” he chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“spencer,” i gasp, looking up at his sympathetic smile, “what are you still doing here? we landed hours ago….”

he shrugs, “i waited for you.”

my heart skips a beat.

“you didn’t have to do that.”

he shakes his head, “you’re my best friend, i wanted to. plus i thought you might need someone after being in there with hotch.”

i swallow and offer him a slightly forced smile.

best friend.

“thanks, spence, that means a lot.”

he looks at me quizzically.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, just only jj calls me spence…anyways” he holds out his arm for me, “shall we go?”

i have to restrain myself from seizing his arm, and settle for tentatively wrapping my own around it, “thanks spencer…you’re such a good friend.”

he smiles down at me and its almost enough to melt away the icy feeling in my heart as i call him a friend. the coldness in my chest in my chest is a feeling i’ve grown accustomed to but when i’m with him everything is warm and bright again.

he feels like yellow.

and i feel like maybe i am enough.

and I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair

i feel like blue.

i’m alone in my apartment flicking through tv channels, trying to find something that isn’t a medical or crime drama. because after my day at work i can’t look at any more blood or dead bodies, even if its as fake as the pep in my voice when jj calls to ask if i’m okay.

“hotch grilled you pretty bad, huh? you sure you’re okay?”

“yeah, spence – spencer – waited for me and we went to get milkshakes after.”

“aww that’s so nice, you know i think he has a soft spot for you,” she teases.

something acidic bubbles in my throat, but i can’t tell her that i know she’s wrong because he spent half the night telling me how much he loves her. i have to gather the strength to respond without the venom in my heart poisoning my voice.

“oh, i don’t think so,” i laugh, “anyways, i should go – my movie is about to start.”

jj tells me to have a good night before she hangs up, and i switch off the tv. at this time there’s noting but romcoms and i don’t want to sit through hours of pining when its on replay every day at the office.

i watch my own reflection in the blank tv screen as sobs wrack my body.

but her smile makes it hard to be mad it's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad

jj holds me in her arms as i cry into her chest, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she coos, rubbing soft circles on my back.

i sniffle against her and i just know that my eyes are puffy and red but i can’t switch off the floods of tears that fall from them.

“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.

i shake my head against her because how could i tell her?

how could I tell her that the man i love is in love with her?

and that i want to resent her for it but i can’t because she’s such a good fucking friend that she’s sitting here with me, unknowingly wiping the tears that i can’t stop shedding because i can’t be her.

she gives me one of those heart warming smiles that could bring peace to a dying man, and in that moment i am reminded again of why he loves her. there are worse people to love, i suppose. if spencer is going to cut out his heart and give it to someone it might as well be someone like her.

but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

and i hate myself for the part of me that hates her. she’s done nothing wrong. it’s not her fault that that spencer loves her, and its not her fault that she doesn’t realise.

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

i hate alaska.

my teeth chatter as we trudge through the snow filled field, and i pull the cuffs of my coat over my glove cladded hands. i hate the cold. i hate alaska. i hate the serial killer who dragged us all out here. i hate the impending snowstorm that was keeping the jet grounded for another night.

“should we even be out here?” i groan, “i mean if it’s not safe for the plane, then surely its not safe for us.”

“we aren’t 50,000 feet up in the sky though,” morgan says and i roll my eyes at him.

“it’s cold enough to make me feel like we are,” i huff.

spencer nods sympathetically at me, “i don’t like the cold either, not much snow in vegas.”

“i think we should have two behavioural analysis units,” i begin, “one to catch serial killers in cold climates, and the other in hot ones.”

he laughs, “i’d like that, but i think it’d just be us and garcia on the hot team.”

“we’d get by.”

he’s grinning at me, his messy brown curls are squashed down under his bobble hat but a few of them still manage to peak out. he’s wearing a multicoloured striped scarf and mismatched gloves.

a snowflake lands on his eyelash and i reach out to brush it off.

“thanks.”

“anytime.”

morgan launches a snowball at us, and it hits me in the back of the head, “hey! what is it with you and throwing things?” i snap.

morgan roars with laughter.

“not funny derek!”

he resumes his snowball fight with emily and jj and i draw my arms across my chest. i watch as they prance about in the snow, falling to avoid the snowballs launched by the others and laughing when they get hit. the sun is just starting to set, and it’s rays catch jj’s hair at the perfect angle, bouncing off the golden blonde strands as she dances around morgan. her and emily have joined forces to pelt him with snowballs.

i look up at spencer to see him starting at her in awe. his nose and cheeks are flushed from the cold, and the sun reflects against his own face, illuminating his eyes. they’re beautiful. like honey and glass.

“guys! come join us!” jj calls.

i shake my head, “there’s not enough money in the world.”

she pouts at me, “spence, please,” she says sweetly and before i know it he’s by her side and scooping up snow.

i watch from the side-lines.

spencer roars with laughter when emily hits morgan square in the face with a snowball, he wraps an arm around jj as she nearly collapses from laughter, something twinges in my stomach.

but he looks so happy, and that melts my glacier heart slightly.

maybe alaska wasn’t so bad after all.

and maybe one day, i can forget the past and be one of those girls of honey and glass

“nice to meet you, agent,” agent fitz says, holding out his hand, “we’ve heard good things about you up in the new york office.”

“really?” i say, shaking his hand and i can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face.

“really. give me a call if you ever fancy a change of scenery.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, agent fitz,” i give him a nod and a smile as he walks away.

new york was cold in the winter, but it didn’t seem like the worst place in the world.

but I think that it's hard for people to see that I love all these girls, and honestly it doesn't matter what you look like or how much you weigh

i wondered once how i’d ever get over my love for spencer reid, and now as he sits and sobs on my couch i realise that i don’t want to. it hurts me to love him, and something stabs my heart every time i catch him staring at her, but he deserves someone to love him like he loves her.

“i guess i’m just starting to realise that she’ll never love me back, and i don’t know why or what’s wrong with me,” he says and looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears and his face blotchy and red.

“there’s nothing wrong with you,” i say, wrapping an arm around him and wiping his tears, “sometimes the people you love just don’t love you back, but that’s not a reflection of you or your self-worth,” i reiterate to him the mantra i say in my mirror every morning.

he whimpers and my heart breaks for him.

“it doesn’t feel that way, it feels like i’m dying inside every time she talks about him or tells me about their dates, and i try to be a good friend but-”

his voice cracks and another sob escapes his chest and i tighten my grip around him; heartbreak doesn’t seem to get easier with age, because here we are, two fbi agents in our late twenties crying over our crushes like we are in junior high.

because before i know it the tears are flowing down my face faster than his and when he breaks away from our embrace to ask me why i’m crying, i can’t tell him it’s because i am feeling everything he is.

“i just don’t like seeing you like this,” is all i can muster up.

it's just that these girls know they're okay there's a beauty in knowing your place in the world in loving yourself and knowing your worth

“hey!” spencer greets me as he steps into the elevator with me.

“hi,” i mumble back, taking another sip of coffee from my travel cup.

we’ve been called in on a case, but i’ve barely had any sleep and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“you look tired, are you okay?”

you look tired.

so the bags under my eyes were obvious then.

“yeah,” i say, swallowing the lump in my throat, “just a late night, y’know.”

“oh…oh! is that your way of saying your date went well?” he says with a coy grin.

“what?”

oh! something clicks in my brain and i understand what he means.

“no! not like that no…actually it didn’t go well at all, he turned out to be a total misogynistic creep,” i say with a bitter laugh.

“oh, i’m sorry….”

i shrug and take another swig of coffee, “it’s okay, you didn’t know. to be honest i’ll probably end up calling him again anyways.”

spencer stares at me, confused, “why would you do that?”

“well, i don’t exactly have guys falling over themselves for me, do i?”

spencer frowns and i can see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, “so you’re just going to settle for less than you deserve?”

“i don’t have many other options do i?”

he reaches out an arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy for you soon. it’s only a matter of time, you’re worth more than a misogynistic creep,” he squeezes my shoulder and before i know it we’ve already reached our floor and he’s gone.

you’ll meet the right guy for you soon.

what if i already have?

you don't have to be perfect or never get sad that's not what it means to be honey and glass

it’s late and i sit at my desk, sorting through piles of paperwork.

my eyes blur as i enter the gruesome details of our latest case, from fatigue or tears i can’t tell. i think emily and hotch are still hanging around the office somewhere, but the others had gone to dinner as soon as we landed, promising that they would do their paperwork tomorrow.

i knew i would have no appetite sitting across a table from spencer and jj so i had sat silently in the back of the suv as hotch drove us back to the office.

a singular tear rolls down my cheek and splatters on my page, smudging the not-quite-dry-yet ink. i let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes, i don’t know why i’m crying really.

no one had necessarily done anything wrong. only when we were in the field and the unsub had detonated the bomb, spencer chose to push jj out of the way instead of me. i was lucky that one of the s.w.a.t agents had grabbed my arm in time and pulled me back to safety.

it had been hours and my ears were still ringing from the explosion.

maybe spencer thought he was closer to jj, that he had a better chance of saving her, we are trained to make difficult choices based on survival odds, i told myself.

only spencer hadn’t been closer to jj, and she was surrounded by three s.w.a.t agents whilst i only had one next to me. but no one had really done anything wrong, no one died, no one even broke a bone. and it pains me to admit to myself but had i been in spencer’s position and had to chose between saving him or morgan, i know that would pull spencer out of the way every single time.

i jump as emily creeps up behind me, “hey, you okay?”

i don’t even try and disguise my puffy, red eyes or tear tracks as i look up at her, “no. but i think that’s okay.”

and everyone has their highs and their lows the nights you spend crying, believe me, I know

it’s roslyn’s birthday.

i don’t think anyone else in the team knows because they keep exchanging looks whenever jj snaps at one of them and i can see the annoyance in their eyes.

when jj barks at spencer and snaps her pencil within the space of five minutes i drag her into a storage closet and wrap my arms around her.

“shhh,” i say soothingly, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

jj shakes her head, “i don’t think so, i thought this day would get easier with time but it’s just getting worse,” she sniffles.

i stroke her hair, “i know, i know its horrible and you deserve to cry as much as you want to. but you are so strong, and i know you can get through this-”

“i’m not,” jj shakes her head, “i’m not strong or brave or anything that you all think i am, i’m not like you I-”

“like me?” i question.

“you always hold yourself together, whenever there’s a case with a kid i’m falling to pieces but you keep it together. i mean i’m the one crying in a storage closet….”

i stare at her in disbelief, because jj is the strongest woman i know and i don’t understand how she can’t see that.

“i don’t have a sister who killed herself jj,” i say slowly, “you have survived 100% of the bad things that have happened to you because you’re a fighter, that makes you strong.”

she shakes her head and clings to me, “but i’ve lost pieces of myself, i’m not the same person i could’ve been if life had been kinder to me and that makes me sad. my sister is dead and that makes me sad, everyone thinks i’m this strong and perfect person and that makes me feel guilty because i can’t be that person.”

in a turn of events, she is crying into my chest, her hair is greasy, and her mascara runs and i realise that my best friend was never truly on the pedestal i placed her on. and i realise i am part of the problem, treating jj like she is the be all and all of perfection and unattainablity when i should just be treating her like a friend.

spencer loves her and that kills me but it’s not what’s important right now. i’ve spent too long inside my own head, struggling to view her as my best friend or the other woman but now i see that she is someone that needs my help.

i know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep so i don’t want jj to go through something like that alone. so i vow there and then, to push my own feelings aside and be whatever she needs me to be.

i don't want to be these girls for beauty or fame but for the confidence they have in their own damn name

“smile!” garcia says as she appears with a camera.

emily, jj, and morgan turn to face her and pose but i duck out of the frame. garcia pouts and morgan grabs onto my forearm to pull me back into shot. i wish that i had the self-confidence to let him, to fall in next to him and make a silly pose at the camera and not worry if my hair was sitting nicely or if i was breathing in enough.

“come on! i need pictures for my scrapbook and you’ve been dodging me all night!” she whines.

i stare down at my feet, “garcia i’m not photoshoot ready like these guys,” i say, trying to make my voice light and floaty but it just sounds like im choking back tears.

“come on, just one picture,” jj says kindly, waving for me to come and stand next to her.

i shake my head again and wring my hands. the last thing i need is another photograph of jj and i to compare myself to every time i’m feeling extra low and self-destructive.

i try and remember the vow i made, to be there for my friend despite my own feelings. but she isn’t sad anymore, she’s happy and smiling and drinking wine, me squeezing in between her and emily for a stupid photograph isn’t going to make or break her.

it’s just a stupid photograph.

“no thanks,” i choke, “i’m going to get another drink,” i scurry away to the kitchen before anyone can object.

i shut the door quickly behind me and press my back up against it, taking a deep breath. i can’t quite believe i was successful in escaping garcia again.

“are you avoid garcia and her camera too?”

“spencer!” i laugh shrilly, “i didn’t even see you there.”

“yeah, i’ve been hiding in here for a half hour,” he smiles sadly, “i hate having my picture taken, especially next to morgan. he makes me look even lankier if possible.”

i frown, spencer had no reason to feel insecure.

“why don’t we get garcia to take a picture of just us two?” i suggest nervously, “you won’t have any reason to feel insecure next to me….”

he looks at me quizzically, “what do you mean?”

i wring my hands again, “just that you’ll automatically look even better if i’m next to you…cos’ i’m…well y’know,” i say awkwardly motioning to my face and body.

he cocks his head to the side, “are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly, so i’ll look better by comparison?”

i shrug.

“well, i think you look beautiful.”

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

we’re on the plane journey home.

spencer and jj sit next to each other, their arms pressed together as they share the arm rest. spencer is reading a book; his eyes scan down the pages at lightening speed and i know he’ll be finished soon.

i am on the opposite side of the plane, i sit by myself, i like the space.

i keep my eye on them throughout the flight; just as i predicted, it doesn’t take long for spencer to finish his book and he places it down on the table in front of him. jj picks it up and teases him for the long-winded title, i don’t catch what she says, something about astrophysics.

he starts to ramble, and she interrupts him with another teasing remark, he flushes when she gently nudges his chest. i turn my head to stare out of the window, biting my lip.

they aren’t even doing anything, jj is just being friendly. and i still can’t handle it. i lie my head back against the headrest as i gaze out of the window, admiring the new york skyline as it fades into the distance.

a nervous chuckle from spencer snaps me out of my trance, and i look back over to see him and jj giggling secretively as she whispers something into his ear.

 “where are you going?” emily grumbles, she’s half asleep with her legs splayed out across two chairs when i accidently bump her foot.

 “bathroom,” i say quietly with a forced smile as i shuffle past jj and spencer, my heart seizing in my chest as she teases him about how long his hair is getting, brushing her hand through the curls.

i’m already silently sobbing in the bathroom so i miss the pitiful look that emily and morgan exchange.

and I know it doesn't make sense to forget the past but I promise, one day, you'll be honey and glass

“agent fitz?” i say, clutching my phone tight in my hand.

“ahh, i’ve been wondering when i’d be hearing from you.”

i laugh quietly, “yes, well i’ve been thinking about what you said, and i think i could do with that change of scenery now.”

i wrote this in a couple hours and didnt proof read so apologies for an errors :))

part 2