#Can you guess which line made me laugh so hard I choked on my drink?

[noodyl-blasstal]

number 9 or 19 for the prompt list for taakitz if you're feeling inspired? :)

Thank you so much for this prompt which is from this list (I’m still open to requests.) Sorry the reply itself is un-prompt (I spiralled), but hopefully you'll forgive me!

Read below or on Ao3.

--

Man, that’s going to stain…How’s it going?/ Well, haha, (doesn’t answer)

–

Kavitz screws all his courage to his sticking point and opens his eyes. He looks at the cake. He looks at his hands. He looks at the kitchen counter. They’re all still the same; bright red, unpleasantly sticky, and mocking him. The ‘icing’ could have at least had the decency to dry slightly in the air by now, but no, he’s made some kind of sugar based slime that is intent on eating everything - especially Taako’s worktops. 

Taako’s worktops… Taako definitely absolutely loves these worktops more than Kravitz. Kravitz knows this, everyone knows this, so why on earth had he decided to try his hand at baking at Taako’s house instead of his own? Maybe it was because he spent more of his non-death crime battling time here than anywhere else, he hadn’t spent a non-work night on the Astral Plane since well… hmm… and all his stuff was here, so it made sense, perfect sense. Or it would, if he hadn’t just committed a crime against baking, nature, and kitchens in general, there was no way Taako wasn’t going to notice.

He’s stuck, is the problem. He can’t operate his phone with his sugary murder hands even though it will absolutely be worth Sloane laughing at him if she can save him from this. Sadly it’s not like he can just go over there… although, no, actually, it’s exactly like he can just go over there! Kravitz reaches out his hand, and only winces slightly at the wet sound his scythe makes as it zoops into it. It’s fine. It’ll clean, and if not he can just tell people it’s blood and they’ll think he’s extra fearsome probably definitely maybe.

He cuts a very careful rift, if he can place it just right then… Kravitz leans his face gingerly into the rift and uses his nose to press the doorbell. He learned very quickly after Sloane and Hurley started dating that it was important to rift outside and wait for someone to answer the door. Sloane tugs said door open as he’s reaching his nose out to press the bell for a second time.

“Kravitz? What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck?” She folds her arms and gives him a look which means he’s definitely never going to hear the end of this.

“I need some help.”

Sloane raises her eyebrows.

“It’s a cake problem.”

“You didn’t!?”

“I…”

“Kravitz! After last time? And the time before… and…”

“I thought it might be different.”

“Because?”

“Taako’s good at baking.”

“And you figured cake osmosis was a thing?” Sloane’s lack of sympathy would be hurtful if she wasn’t entirely correct.

“On reflection, it wasn’t the best idea I’ve had in my life.” An understatement, but he doesn’t have time to properly catalogue this error right now. It can haunt him when he’s lying awake at 3am for the rest of his life instead.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not sentient.” He’s remaining optimistic.

“Yet…” She mutters.

“I gave it a bit and it seems fine.”

“Uh huh.”

“I know that’s what I said last time, but I really think it’s okay.”

“If I had a gold piece for every time…” Sloane begins.

“Please just help.” Kravitz must sound pathetic enough because Sloane just rolls her eyes, and smiles fondly.

“Okay, are you coming to me or am I coming to you?”

Kravitz holds up his non-scythed hand.

“I’m coming to you,okay. Gimme a minute and a me-sized rift?”

“Thank you.” Kravitz nods and splices.

–

There’s a shuffling noise and Sloane opens the door again.

“Why do you even have a hazmat suit?” Kravitz tries not to feel offended, he doesn’t succeed.

“It’s not a hazmat, that would be overkill, it’s a tyvek.”

“And you have it because?”

“Do you wanna know?” The distinct edge to her question tells him he definitely doesn’t.

“Is it for work?”

“Yes.”

“The flower shop job?”

“Nope, and you said you don’t wanna know anything that you could be compelled to give up in a court of law so…”

“So I won’t ask any further questions and should instead be grateful that you’re coming to help save me and Taako’s worktops?”

“You got it on Taako’s worktops? Kravitz! I’m going to miss you.”

“I don’t know if he can kill me.”

“Here lies Kravitz…” Says Sloane as she steps through the rift. “... The bestest friend a gal could ask for. I’ll miss his ability to transport me without paying bus fare most of all.”

“Thanks Sloane, you always know how to make me feel better.” Kravitz says dryly.

“So you sure fucked this up, yeah?” Sloane looks around at the general devastation.

“The cake might be nice?” Kravitz points with a sticky hand.

“Mmhmm.” Says Sloane like she wants to believe him but can’t.

“But… it’s just… yeah…” He trails off.

“Have you tried anything yet?” 

“Er…”

“Water?”

“I can’t touch the tap.” Kravitz brandishes his free-hand. Tries for a second time to banish his scythe, fails. Maybe he doesn’t need to mention that specific issue to Sloane yet. “It’s really sticky.”

“Right. I’ll try water first. Do you have sponges you don’t care about?”

“As opposed to the sponges I do care about?”

“Hey, Kravitz, do you remember who you live with? The man who cares about nothing more than his kitchen and nearly broke up with you when you scrubbed the cast iron? You think he doesn’t have opinions about your sponges?”

She has a point. “There’s some in the garage.” He starts to move towards the door.

“No!” Sloane grabs the back of his suit and pulls. “You stay here, we need to keep the crime scene secured. By which I mean you specifically. Don’t move.

It’s a good point. Kravitz is going to stay so still. “I can’t quite remember where they…”

Sloane’s gone before he can finish and back too quickly for him to think about in depth. There’s definitely no reason for that which relates to her ability to case a joint.

“I’m going to try cold water first in case hot water makes it harden… or, you know, go on fire.” 

“That was one time!” 

“One time too many, Kravitz. One time too many.”

He opens his mouth and shuts it firmly again. The ‘gift to science’ defence doesn’t really work when he still doesn’t know how he did it.

Sloane dabs gingerly at the very edge of the worktop spatter. They both lean away in anticipation. Nothing happens. “No explosions is a good start.” She  says cheerfully, as she walks back to the sink. “I’ll test hot now.” She repeats the leaning, runs the hot tap directly onto the red spot on the sponge.

“Is it helping?”

“Nope.”

“Soap?”

She tries. “Nope.”

“How hard do you think it is to replace an entire kitchen and also me in… er…” Kravitz glances at the clock. “2 hours?”

“If anyone can do it’s Magnus. Well… maybe not you. You could ring your Mum?”

“She’s not my Mum.”

“Then why did I have to get my parents to call her before I was allowed to come play and why did I have to call her Mrs The Raven Queen when I came to visit?”

“That’s manners.”

“So anyway, call your Mum.”

“I’m not calling my Mum… I mean. Fuck. Sloane! Stop laughing! Can you help me ring Magnus?”

“Why can’t you…” Kravitz brandishes his hand again. “Ah. Fine. Where’s your phone?”

Kravitz swings a hip towards her.

“Nope.”

“Sloane!”

She rolls her eyes. Hard. “It’s a good job I love you, you know that?”

“Like I haven’t earned this.”

“Hey, I’ve never…”

“Don’t make me bring up The Plantcident.” Kravitz side eyes her as she reaches for his phone.

“Urgh, you’ll never let me forget that, will you? I maintain it could have happened to anyone.”

“But instead it happened to you and I had to talk the bank manager down so he didn’t press charges.”

“It’s a good thing you’re so clean cut and know all the fancy words. Now, sssh... “Sloane holds his phone up to his ear.” … it’s ringing.” 

“Wait, how did you know my code?”

Sloane doesn’t answer, she just smiles unnervingly instead. Kravitz worries sometimes about how much and how little he knows her all at once.

Magnus picks up before Kravitz can ask any more ill-advised questions (because he definitely doesn’t want to know the answers to them.)

“Hello Magnus, I just had a quick…. Yes? Oh… yes… No of course I think he’s a very clever boy… No, it’s okay, you don’t have to put me on to hi… Hello Johann. Magnus says you did a very good job today. Well done… Magnus? … Magnus?... Johann, can you get Magnus?... …. … MAGNUS?” Sloane winces. Kravitz mouths a quick sorry her way. “Great! Magnus, I… No, don’t hang up, I rang because I had a question, you know the kitchen worktops? … Mmmhm, yeah, they’re incredible, how long did they take you to make?... Oh? A week? Wow… And that was quick?” Kravitz widens his eyes at Sloane, her face doesn’t give anything away. “... and if it was a rush order? Oh… it was? Wow. Yeah. Lots of intricate bits…. Mmm… yes, you’re right, it is a funny shape in here. Good point… okay, so if someone had say, for example, stained them, how would one go about getting that stain out?... No it’s not a sex thing!... Magnus!... Do you really want to know the answer to that?... I didn’t think so… Look, it’s a hypothetical question which I  need the answer to please?... Yes, haha, you’re right it is a good thing it’s hypothetical, Taako would be really upset yes, but if you could just tell me… you know, for the thought exercise, yes, right… It would depend on the stain? So if something was sticky and had food dye?... Magnus please, you have to focus… Okay… Yep… Water… nail polish remover… baking powder and vinegar… toothpaste… yes we’ll try that… yes of course hypothetically… no, please don’t tell him… Because nothing has happened. Everything’s fine. Sloane can tell you.” 

Kravitz gives Sloane a pleading look and she retracts the phone to speak to Magnus herself. “Hey Magnus, yep, all fine here… Ha, yeah, just playing a fun hypothetical game, you know how we do that… give my love to Julia and Johann... Yeah, thanks from both of us… Bye!”

“So water didn’t work, but we can try the nail polish remover and the toothpaste, and I’m fairly sure Taako has the baking powder and vinegar.

“Be right back.” Sloane’s gone before Kravitz can tell her where anything is.

He tries to un-summon his scythe again while he waits. Nothing happens. He tries again, double hard, it tries to leave, there’s a second where it might, but no. Stuck fast. The door creaks open slowly before he can try a third time.

“I didn’t even know it was possible to get magic stuck to you.” He sighs.

Sloane doesn’t reply.

“Sloane?”

There’s a skittering noise. No. Oh fuck no.

“SLOANE!” Kravitz yells, hoping she’ll hear him before whichever one of them it is can get themselves stuck too.

“Pss pss pss pss pss.” He keeps his arms well out of reach, and moves slowly towards the door.

It’s Tiny Taco, of course it’s Tiny Taco. 

“Hello there, why don’t you go back out into the hall? You can play with your toys and your friends. It’ll be so nice out there in the rest of the house, in literally any room but this room.” 

Tiny Taco struts confidently forward and rubs his head fondly against Kravitz’s legs. This is the most affection he has ever shown him. Kravitz fights the impulse to lean into it, it’s all part of the ploy. Maybe if he slowly shuffles towards the door?

“You yelled?” Sloane asks from the doorway?

Kravitz turns to look at her. It’s all the distraction Tiny Taco needs and he makes a break for it.

“No no no no no no no!” Kravitz tries to block him with his body, Taco dodges. “Sloane can you…?”

She tries, she does. She moves fast. It’s not fast enough.

Kravitz reaches out and grabs him.

“Kravitz!” Sloane thwacks her palm against her head. “You had one job and it was standing still.”

Taco’s already squirming in his hand, this is going to get ugly fast.

“Shout at me later. Help, please?”

Sloane sighs unnecessarily loudly. “I’m taking a photo.”

“What? Sloane, no.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

Kravitz knows better than to try and bargain with her. “Fine.”

“Smile!” 

Kravitz is not going to smile.

“Smile or I’m not helping.”

Kravitz smiles.

“Okay, what goes best with cat? Toothpaste?”

Taco wriggles again and digs his claws sharply into Kravitz’s arm.

“Ouch! Anything, just try.”

Sloane shrugs and brandishes the Aquafresh. “Brace yourself.”

It works, eventually. Kravitz has fresh scratches, but Taco has been pasted (and slightly snipped) clean and returned to the ‘anywhere but the kitchen’ exclusionary zone with enough Dreamies to buy his silence.

“One down. Shall we try it on the worktop or your hands first?” 

“The worktop’s more important.”

“Oh wait, your phone’s going.”

“Who is it?”

Sloane checks. “Taako. There’s a few missed calls too.”

Kravitz smiles as endearingly as he can manage. Surely Sloane wouldn’t stand in the way of speaking to his boyfriend, not after how much he helped when she was worried about telling Hurley. “Would you mind?”

“Fine.” Sloane holds the phone to his ear.

“Hello Taako! It’s so nice to hear from you, love, how’s your day going? … mmhm… incredible… I hope you told him off… Maybe not the words I would have used, but as you say, it’s your school… Another award? Congratulations! Very much deserved as far as I’m concerned… How am I? Oh you know, fine… My day? Nothing much, just missing you… You can’t fireball me through a phone dearest… No, actually I don’t think you should try, if anyone can it’s you..” 

Sloane prods him hard and makes a ‘wind it up’ gesture.

“Ow… I mean… How is your afternoon looking?... Wonderful… Anyway, I should let you go. I know you’re busy… No no, honestly… I’ll see you later, I know you have so much on… Love you… Goodbye, Taako!”

“Gross.” Says Sloane loudly.

“Shut  up, you love your girlfriend.” She doesn’t have a leg to stand on as far as Kravitz is concerned.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong… I was actually thinking of… Wait, now’s super not the time. Let’s try and fix… you know, all of this?” Sloane gestures to the whole of everything.

Kravitz nods.

The layer of toothpaste doesn’t have the same effect on the counter as it did on Taco.

“Nail polish remover?” Sloane asks.

“Yes, whatever you think.” Kravitz eyes the clock warily.

It doesn’t work either, although it does remove the toothpaste effectively.

“Vinegar explosion?” Sloane sounds more excited than he’d like her to about this option.

“Did Magnus say how much to use?”

“Nope!” She says, happily, shaking powder across the worktop.

“Maybe you should start with a test patch?”

“Uh huh.” Sloane looks him dead in the eyes as she pours vinegar over it all.

The fizzing is far more dramatic than it would be on a small scale, he’ll give her that. Especially when it turns red.

It’s unfortunate that it’s still going when they hear the door open.

“Home, I’m honey!” Taako shouts from the entrance hall.

“Hi Honey, I’m Kravitz.” Yells Kravitz, automatically.

Sloane stops watching the fizzening long enough to pretend to puke. Kravitz glares at her. He can be gross in his own home. Taako’s own home. He doesn’t live here. Obviously.

“Where are you, Kraveroo? … Oh, hey there hi hello, Taco, most precious baby angel, how’re you doing this fine d… KRAVITZ!” 

“Fuck.” Say Kravitz and Sloane in tandem. 

“I can’t believe he told, we gave him so many treats!” Sloane shakes her head.

“He hates me.” Says Kravitz, mournfully. “We should never have trusted him.” 

“Kravitz? Where are you and why have you given the cat a shit haircut?” Taako’s voice is hovering somewhere between pissed off and amused and Kravitz would love to be able to tip it over into the latter category. He can’t deal with being in any more trouble right now.

He widens his eyes at Sloane, sadly she’s doing the same right back.

“I feel like we’ve gotta let it fizz? That’s what’s doing the cleaning, right?” Sloane hisses.

“Yes. That sounds logical, but how do I?” Kravitz holds his free hand up.

“You could poke your head out through the door?” 

“What?”

“He can’t see your hands if you’re just a head at the kitchen door.”

“Of course, thanks Sloane.” Kravitz makes it all the way to the door before realising his error. “Er…”

Sloane sighs heavily and dashes over to crack the door open before retreating to the counter.

“Hello my love.” Kravitz shouts, head poking into the hall and foot firmly wedged to stop the door opening any further.

Taako careens round the corner. “Why’re you in the kitchen?” His eyes narrow dangerously.

“I’m just doing something. A surprise.” 

Taako doesn’t look any less suspicious. “What’s that smell?”

“Surprise smell.” Kravitz smiles his most reassuring smile.

Apparently it’s less reassuring than he thinks because Taako disappears, and, if the “what the fuck?” From behind him is anything to go by, blinks into the kitchen.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Sloane’s hands are in the air and her head’s swivelling frantically, looking for escape.

“Cha’boy hasn’t a clue what it looks like… what the actual fuck is going on in here?”

“There may have been a slight incident.” Kravitz decides that there’s not many routes other than honesty left at this point.

“Slight?” Taako raises a single, reproachful eyebrow.

“It’s not all of the things. Just some of them.” Kravitz tries not to sound sulky, he does.

“Why’re you holding your scythe?”

“Uh…”

“Why’re you red?”

“Er…”

“Did you try to bake?”

“No.” Kravitz replies before he can remember his plan to the tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “I mean, yes. I did bake! The baking wasn’t the bit that went wrong. Look!” Kravitz points triumphantly at the cake.

Taako’s eyes soften for the barest moment. “It’s heart shaped.”

“It’s for you!” 

“And the red stuff?”

“I had to ice it.” 

“With?”

“Icing.”

“That you made from…?”

“I’m not actually entirely sure I remember.”

“Okay. Well first things first, Krav, Kraverino, beloved… you’re a skeleton. You, my guy, are made of bones. Meat you isn’t real.”

“Meat you isn’t real!” Sloane repeats. “I forgot.”

“Oh.” Kravitz unravels himself immediately and feels his scythe release into the ether, thank goodness. Not that he didn’t love it, but it’s a pain in the arse to lug around all the time, plus the drama of the reveal is always fun. “Thank you Taako.”

“Is this why you chopped Taco?” 

“There was an incident.” Says Sloane. “But I toothpasted him out.”

“And he only bit me twice!” Kravitz adds.

“See, cha’boy said you he was coming round to you!” Taako sounds genuinely delighted. To be fair, it is an improvement.

“So that’s one down.” Sloane says. “Just… this to go.”

“Have you tried, you know, magic?”

“Er…” There’s a long pause. A very long pause.

“I rifted to Sloane.”

Taako pinches his fingers at the bridge of his nose. “So just to clarify, neither of you, including you, handsome man, literally made of magic. tried any kind of mending, purifying,…” he lowers his hand to glance at the mess again. “... banishing?”

“Well…” Sloane starts, as if there’s any way to get them out of this.

“We rang Magnus!” Says Kravitz quickly. He can’t leave it all to Sloane.

“Ah, well if you rang Magnus, notoriously magical Magnus! Of course he would have thought to suggest all of the best wizardly crafts, he’s always casting spells, punch, chop, harder punch, Magical Magnus, we all call him.”

“Can you get rid of it?I think the fizzing has stopped now.” Sloane points at the still definitely-more-red-than-it-should-be counter.

“Can Taako get rid of it? This lowly idiot wizard? I suppose I can maybe see my way to trying, but what good could cha’boy possibly do against something so fearsome as icing?” Taako waves his hands dramatically. 

The red gets redder.

“Did… have you just made it stronger?” Sloane asks in disbelief.

“I meant to do that. It was just a warm up. Natch.” Taako’s voice doesn’t waver.

Kravitz tries very hard not to feel too smug. 

“Abraca-fuck-off!”

A small chunk disappears, but the rest remains just as vibrant.

“Fuck. That was high level too. Uh. Cha’boy’s out of ideas, have you called your Bird Mom, Krav?”

“She’s not my Mu…” 

Taako gives him a hard look. “Because, cha’boy’s just saying, these worktops, they’re good worktops, and it’d be a real shame if anything were to irreversibly stain them.”

“Taako, I can’t contact the god who oversees the natural order of life and death and ask her to take some time out to come fix… this.”

Taako raises an eyebrow.

Sloane gives him a look.

Kravitz snatches his phone back from her with his now blissfully un-gunked bone hands. “Fine, but I’m not communing, I’m texting.”

“She always rings you straight back anyway.” Taako says.

“Classic Mum behaviour.” Sloane adds.

Kravitz needs to spend less time with both of them, he refuses to be bullied like this.

His phone rings. “Hello M…y queen.” Kravitz glares at them both as they snicker. “We’re experiencing some issues with an, er, substance… No, not like that… No, we wouldn’t take anything that’s bad for us or the people around us… Thank you… Do you think there’s anything you can… yes. Yes, I know… I promise, this is the last time… I thought that maybe I’d be better… not just proximity… yes, okay, yes. Proximity… Thank you… I promise I won’t… I know I did, but this time I really mean it… Thank you very much… I love-you-too-bye.”

“What did your Mum say?” They chorus wearing their most pointed smiles.

“She’s going to have a look at it.” All of the fight has gone out of him. Kravitz has accepted his fate.

The counter shakes violently. Nothing happens.

It shakes again.

Nothing.

Kravitz’s phone rings.

He doesn’t want to answer. Less than anything does he want to answer, but he cannot ignore direct summons.

“Hello… yes… No… I can’t remember… I’m sorry… I don’t think… Okay. Yes. I’ll ask him…” Kravitz turns to Taako. “How attached are you to your kitchen?”

Taako narrows his eyes. “Very.”

“How would you feel if the counters had to be banished into a secure dimension?”

Taako’s mouth forms into a tight line.

“It may also not really be a question of whether you’re happy for it to happen or not because Raven checked with Istus and there’s a strand of fate which needs to be snipped right now…”

“So what you’re saying is that cha’boy’s losing a chunk of the kitchen he spent what feels like a century planning? That his best friend in the world hand crafted for him?” Taako presses his hand to his forehead and pretends to faint.

Kravitz opens his mouth and shuts it again. Guilt gnaws at him. He wants more than anything to fix this, but he doesn’t know how.

“Shall I tell Magnus you said he was your best friend?” Sloane asks.

“Take the counter.” Taako replies immediately.

“Taako, I’m so sorry.”

Taako smiles and waves his hand. “Honestly, Taako was bored of them.”

“But…”

“Magnus hasn’t really been challenged lately. I think he needs this. We’ll do it as a favour to him.”

“Are you…?” 

“Honestly, Taako made the kitchen with himself in mind, but it’s not just cha’boy living here anymore, is it?” Taako waves his hand flippantly.

Kravitz pauses. “I… Taako.”

“Tell her to do it now.”

His tone leaves absolutely no room for disagreement, Kravitz gives the answer.

There’s a brief moment of nothing, enough time for Kravitz to chance a tentative look at Taako. He meets Kravitz’s eyes confidently, doesn’t even flinch as reality twists around them and there’s a gentle pop. Kravitz doesn’t need to check to know the counter is gone. 

Taako smiles at him.

“I’m gonna head out. Kravitz could you…?” Sloane asks.

He cuts the rift without looking at her. “Thank you for helping.”

It seals behind her.

“I’m sorry.” Kravitz says again, because he is.

“You made me a cake.” Taako says again.

“Yes.” Kravitz replies, because he did. Regardless of everything else, he did.

“Because you wanted to fuck my kitchen up?”

“No! I, look, you made the me the pastries.”

“The date ones?”

“Yes. The ones from home. You spent weeks working at it and you didn’t even have a recipe, just me trying to explain a taste I can barely remember.”

“And cha’boy nailed it.” Taako grins smugly and Kravitz loves him in all his brash confidence.

“You did. You really did.”

“So you decided I needed cake too?”

“No one ever bakes for you.” Kravitz says quietly.

“Ango did that one time.” 

“Yes, that’s true. But it’s been ages and they got set on fire, and no one else does. You deserve it. You deserve to be taken care of right back.”

“Hey, Krav. Quick question, just a teensy smidgey one. Who got the shoe organiser after cha’boy kept falling over them?”

Kravitz tilts his head, uncertain what this has to do with anything.

“Go on, don’t get shy on me, who did that?”

“Me.” Says Kravitz. He’d been sick of worrying that Taako was going to fall over and get lost in a shoe pile and need help when he wasn’t there to give it.

“And who actually puts the shoes on the shoe organiser when cha’boy forgets?”

“Me?” It’s not like he does it all the time, just now and again.

“And who got the cats those extra perches to go round the walls because I was worried they were bored?” Taako doesn’t wait for an answer. “Oh, yeah, that was you too.”

“But…”

“Bones, you care for Taako in so many different ways, so leave the baking to the professionals because so help me fantasy Jesus if you wreck any more of our house.” 

“Our house?”

“Yeah. Now shut up and tell me what your perfect kitchen looks like so I can fix it.”

[obsessedwithfictionalmen01]

Hey!! I would love it so so so much if you could do a imagine with Hangman where him asking you out was like a bet with the other pilots and you find out. Also if you possibly could put in the line “You said you loved me, I guess you lied”. Xx

DAMN

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

A/N: Hi! It's been such a LONG time since I've written something but here it is! Thank you for the request, I love writing for the Dagger Squad! Please keep in mind that English is not my first language and I hope you enjoy it! And feel free to send more requests!

Warnings: curse words (maybe like 2), angst, Jake being kind of an ass, a little bit of smut (not much) and I think that’s it

You walked into the Hard Deck ready for your shift, it was going to be a long night since the Top gun aviators came back and the fact that it was Friday night, so you put on your uniform and greeted Penny on your way in.

“Hey, Pen. Ready for tonight?” you asked jokingly knowing she was going to be very stressed with so many people at the bar. “Yeah keep that joyful attitude because it is aviator's night and the entire squad is going to be here so better prepare, especially if you want that cute blonde noticing you” she joked back winking at you.

Your face dropped. Of course she knew about your little crush over a certain blue-eyed blonde aviator, but she didn’t have to rub it in that much! Besides, it was foolish of you, how could he notice you? He was always surrounded by gorgeous girls, and you couldn’t blame them, but you also couldn't deny how it bothered you. But Jake always seemed so sweet with you, constantly treating you with respect and kindness, it almost looked like he… no. You immediately pushed those thoughts aside and started helping Penny out with the bar, basic chores such as washing the glasses, organizing pool tables and cleaning the bar and before you could notice it was already time to open.

“Hey, sweetheart we are going to open now, ok? Make sure everyone follows the three holy rules and if anyone bothers you let me know” Penny said with a stern voice, obviously she knew how this job worked and she wanted you to feel comfortable “Yes, mom” You joked standing behind the bar waiting for the clients to come in.

A few hours passed and you didn’t catch a break, always busy serving drinks and closing tabs, so busy you didn’t notice Jake entering the bar until one of his friends yelled his call sign “Hangman! Over here man” it was Coyote’s voice, you lifted up your head and instantly regretted it because he was already looking your way “I’m going to grab a drink!” he yelled back walking towards the bar “How are you doing sunshine? Busy day?” he asked with his signature smirk. You felt the heat rising up to your cheeks and tried to play it off laughing “Yeah, pretty busy actually. The usual?” you asked while grabbing a bottle of his favorite beer offering it to him “And also maybe your phone number?” You almost choked on your own saliva when he said those words “I’m sorry what?”

“You heard me, sweetheart. I was going to wait till you asked me but I can be a little impatient, so here I am” He looked so confident it was almost annoying, but you were too surprised to even notice it, only being able to nod while opening his bottle of beer “Yeah, yeah sure uhm give me a minute” you said reaching for a piece of paper “You know, on second thought… why don't you take 5 and play pool with me?” he asked with that smirk again. You looked over to Penny who was taking people's orders. “I don’t know Jake, Penny is pretty busy, i don’t want to…” he cut you off “Hey Pen, darling! Could this beautiful bartender take five minutes?” he shouted across the bar which made Penny laugh and shook her hand telling you to go. You laughed nervously about this, of course Jake had flirted with you other days but you thought he was just playing around, like always. and now he wants to spend time with you? It sure felt like a dream. 

You left the bar when he grabbed your hand and led you to the pool table next to his aviator friends, you smiled at them, after all they were regulars and some of them were specially friendly with you, like pornstache and cute glasses. They all smiled at you, some more than others which seemed kind of odd, but that thought was pushed aside when Jake brushed your hip offering you a cue stick “Know how to play, sweetheart?” you smirked and approached the table placing the balls and starting the game “I don’t know, lieutenant, do I?” 

He smirked and watched every movement of your body during the game, especially when you bent down on it. 

Short time later Jake and you were left even, only the black 8 ball missing “Let’s make this interesting, if I win you go out with me on a date and…” you cut him off “If I win you must pay a round for the whole bar” Jake looked around and saw all the people that were that night at the bar, you could hear Phoenix laughing wishing you luck “Ok darling, let’s see what you can do”. With a small smile you bent over and hitted the ball making it fall on the hole but… also the white ball, you lose. Phoenix and Rooster groaned, they would have loved seeing Jake bankrupt because of a pretty girl. Coyote was the only one that cheered for Hangman and they both high fived like a couple of teenagers. You could only stare at the pool table almost angry at the loss but also remembering what the price was, was Jake taking you out? Seriously? 

“Well now you and I will have a date. How does dinner and a walk on the beach sound to you?” he said in a charming tone of voice making you blush “Sounds good” You replied walking back to the bar leaving Hangman behind while you were trying to process everything. Finally, it felt so unreal, you were almost floating, so happy that the next three hours of working went flying for you, but not for Penny, she was exhausted and asked you to close the squad’s tab. Happily you went over to their table and told them it was closing time, they booed jokingly grabbing their things and paying Penny on their way out, only Jake was left “Hey sweet cheeks, what about our date? Want to take a walk on the beach?” you immediately grabbed your things and walked out of the bar saying bye to Penny.

It’s safe to say that the date was amazing, you both talked for hours and when you were too tired to walk you just stayed in his car chatting more and more. He told you everything about the mission he had with Maverick where he saved his and Rooster’s lifes, obviously showing off, he talked about his family, about his friends, everything. So you opened up too, reciprocating every chat with another. The only thing you could think about was how lucky you were. 

“I had an amazing time with you, doll” 

“Yeah, me too” you said looking at those baby blue eyes that had you on your feet the whole night “This is going to sound weird, we don’t know each other that much but, I have never met someone like you and… I think I’m falling in love with you”.

You froze. What? Love? No it couldn’t be. This was Jake “Hangman” Seresin. Why? How? Is he for real? You honestly didn’t know what to say, of course you had a huge crush on him but something felt weird “Jake… I don’t know what to say”

“Just let me kiss you” he asked. HE ASKED. HANGMAN ASKING? You shook your head but when your eyes locked with his you were long gone. You pushed your lips against his while he wrapped his hands around your waist pulling the pilot seat backwards so you could seat on top of him. And without noticing, the kiss got deep and messy, filled with need, his hands never leaving your waist. He then moved his lips over your neck, that’s when you knew you had to stop “Hey, Jake. I’m really enjoying this but…” he immediately stopped, almost worried about you “Everything ok?” he rubbed your back while kissing your cheek “I think we should take things slow” you started getting off his lap falling into the copilot seat “Yeah, yes agreed” he said with a small smile “See you tomorrow?” you asked, opening the car’s door “Of course” he waited for you to get off before driving away. You couldn’t figure out why but you had a bad feeling about this.

A couple of days later you still haven’t heard from Jake, you texted him but he never answered. It was kind of weird, he tells you that he’s falling in love and then ignores you? Your thoughts were interrupted with the sound of a familiar voice “Hey, sugar how are you doing?” it was Rooster, taking off his sunglasses and sitting down on the bar “I had better days” you sighed “Oof what happened?” you opened him a beer “Your friend, that’s what happened! First he wants to take me on a date, then he tells me he is falling in love with me and THEN he ghosts me, what kind of sociopath does that?” you scoff cleaning the bar aggressively “Wait what?” he almost sounded angry “He told you what?” he repeated gripping the bottle he had on his hand “He told me that he loved me!” you almost yelled closing your mouth as soon as you saw him entering the bar without even looking your way.

And with that you saw Rooster walking towards Jake fuming “What the fuck is your problem Seresin?” he yelled, making everyone look in their direction “Whoa calm down, what did I do this time?” he asked, lifting his hands up laughing at him “What did you do?! Why don’t you tell her, huh?” he pointed in your direction, you were so confused about the situation and not wanting any more problems you left the bar and stood between them “Rooster come on, is nothing stop it” Bradley shook his head in disbelief “Either you tell her or I will” he yelled walking away and sitting on the table with the rest of the squad who were as confused as you “What is he talking about?” you asked Jake “I don’t know! Maybe he’s jealous” he said not even looking at you walking towards the pool table leaving you speechless. You knew that wasn’t jealousy, that was pure frustration. But seeing how things were going you decided to return to the bar.

Rooster wasn’t jealous. He has never shown any kind of interest, has he? No, he was respectful and friendly. It had to be something else.

“It was a bet” someone said interrupting your thoughts “i hate to be the one telling you this, but Coyote made a bet where Jake had to ask you out and tell you he loved you, in return Coyote would become Jake’s wingman” you stood in your places shocked “I am so sorry, Rooster and Fanboy heard them the other day and warned him not to do it but… we all know how he is. An asshole” you finally had the courage to look up for you to realize it was Maverick, with tears in your eyes you shook your head not wanting to hear anymore information “I’m sorry, kid” and like that he left.

You looked over to where Jake was and dropped on the floor slowly so no one could watch you, except for Penny, the moment she realized she lifted you up and told you to go home. She hugged you and kissed your forehead “I’m so sorry sweetie, men are assholes”. And she was right, blinded with anger and resentment you waited for him outside leaned over his car. When he finally came out and saw you he approached you trying to kiss you but all that he received was a hard smack on his cheek. He was left with his head turned to the side and a shocked expression. The smack was so loud the whole Dagger Squad came out and when they saw what was going on they decided to stay at a safe distance.

“You selfish, idiotic, narcissistic prick!” you yelled “Yesterday meant nothing? Was it just a bet? Are you that disrespectful towards the rest of the humans, huh? Or do you simply like playing with people’s feelings because it makes you feel powerful?” you stopped briefly to catch your breath, tears threatening to come out “You told me that you loved me! You said you were falling in love with me! How could…” you stopped wiping your tears away “How could you?” crying, you left your spot and got into your car driving away “You are an asshole, Seresin” Fanboy said “We told you not to do it” Rooster added.

Jake could only look at you feeling all kinds of emotions: shame, pity, sadness, frustration because, in reality, he did enjoy the time he spent with you, he did love kissing you, when you both went for a walk he did love how the sound of your voice sounded like, how sweet you smelled, how he could talk to you so carelessly, not worrying about his image or about what you would think of him, he loved how you held onto him while he kissed you and how he felt something he has never felt before. But it was all a bet right? “Damn”.

THE END

[obsessed-with-fake-men]

His Hoodie

You looked cold so Sebastian let you borrow his hoodie, he didn’t know how much he’d like seeing you in it.

Sebastian xF!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names

Wc: 3530

It’s another Friday night at the Stardrop Saloon. You’re in your usual spot, next to Abigail on the couch, in the game room watching Sebastian school Sam at pool like always.

“Top left pocket,” Sebastian calls his final shot.

“No way you can sink that, man!” Sam said.

Sebastian catches your eye as he carefully lines up his shot, and with a wink he sinks the 8-ball.

Sam groans “argh you’re too good, it’s not fair!”

Sebastian chuckles softly, “Fine, fine. Y/n, are you any good at pool?”

“Um I mean I’ve played before but I’ve never claimed to be good… why?” You ask.

“Let’s say I’m evening the playing field,” Seb says with a grin.

“Hey two against one isn’t even,” Sam complains.

“Think of it this way Sam, I’m teaching y/n so if you beat us, you’re beating me and showing what a bad teacher I am.”

“Alright… just this once” Sam says.

The game starts just fine, Seb breaks. Expertly sinking two balls off the bat.

“We’re solids, y/n. That means don’t sink the stripes” Seb teases.

You blush, “I know the basics.”

You asses the table, choosing your path. You lean down, hoping to at least hit the ball. Sebastian’s breath catches. Sure he’s been attracted to you since you first moved into Pelican Town, but seeing your jeans perfectly molded to your ass as you bend over the table… the things he’d do to you if you were alone.

Seb says “Sorry I couldn’t tell you knew which ball to hit by the way you line up your shot” he chuckles. “Here, can I help?”

He leans down behind you. You can feel his breath on your ear ask he skates his hand down your forearm to adjust your hold.

“You gotta grip it a little tighter, you’re in control here,” he whispers into your ear.

It’s only with his body pressed to yours, his hand guiding your own, that you realize how phallic a pool cue can be. He must realize it too, because you feel something firm pressing against your ass.

*cough cough* Sam clears his throat.

“Today you two!” Abigail laughs.

You blush as Sebastian cooly straightens and runs his fingers through his dark hair.

“You got this y/n” he says encouragingly.

You take the shot and make it.

“Woah I actually made it!” You shout, bouncing up and turning to Seb. The joy on your face makes his heart flutter.

Sam sighs, “well this isn’t gonna be as easy as I thought”.

“I’ll grab the next round, you guys keep playing” you say.

After you return with the drinks the game and the jokes flow easily.

You make a few shots and miss a few too, with Seb encouraging or laughing it off with you.

“Middle right!” Sam calls the last ball.

He lines up his shot

He shoots

It misses.

“Oof, tough break bud” Abigail says.

“Awh sorry Sam, looks like it’s not your night,” Seb teases. “Y/n, you’re up.”

You choke on your drink, “Seb I thought it was your turn??”

He smiles at you, “nah, you’ve been doing so well for me. I think you deserve to finish this.”

You try to keep your cool, leaning over the table.

“Just breathe, you got this.” Seb says, it’s meant to be encouraging for you but it doubles as an attempt to control his hard on. The way you’re leaning, he can just glimpse your black lacy bra down your shirt.

“Top left,” you call the pocket.

With Seb’s encouragement warming in your chest, you loose your shot. The tip of the pool cue hits the ball perfectly, sinking the 8-ball right where you wanted it.

“Hey we did it!” You bounce up and pull Sebastian into a hug. He stiffens at the sudden contact and you let go blushing.

“Way to go y/n, now I guess I’ll be bench warming all by my lonesome” Abigail scoffs

“Maybe you should try playing some time Abby,” Sam says.

“Oh fuck off sam, you just want to win for once,” Abigail said.

“Think you can take me??” Sam asks.

Seb leans over towards you, “they could be at this for awhile, want to join me for a smoke break?”

You nod and follow him out of the saloon.

Seb leans against the side of the building, pulls out his pack of cigs and offers one to you.

You take it, happy to have something warm you up on this cool spring night. Seb flicks on his lighter and you lean in to light to up. You look so beautiful in the light from the flame, your eyes hooded, focusing on getting your cig lit then they flicker up at him, catching his gaze. Time slows as his can see your lips wrapped around his cock instead of that dainty cigarette. He blinks, releasing the flame. Relishing that he can hide his blush in the darkness. As he lights his own cig, you fall into a similar daze. Watching his fingers expertly flick on the flame, illuminating his face so full of focus. Your mind drifts to what that focus and those fingers could do to you. The thoughts make you shiver.

“Oh shit, y/n, are you cold?” Sebastian ask.

“Huh? What?” You shake yourself out of your daze.

“Here hold this” he hands you his cigarette and begins to take off his hoodie.

“Oh now you don’t need to…” your words trail off as Sebastian pulls the hoodie over his head. It takes some of his shirt with it, revealing his stomach and a hint of hair at his waist line in the moonlight. You take a drag on your cig to try and refocus yourself.

“Trade me,” Seb says as he holds the hoodie out towards you. Passing him the cigarettes, you pull the hoodie on. It’s still warm and smells like him, a mix of smoke, cedar and something spicy.

“I think our cigs got swapped at some point, this one is maybe yours?” He says handing it back over.

You giggle, “it doesn’t really matter, we were bound to swap saliva eventually.” You say as you lean up against the wall next to him.

He turns to face you, “oh really? And how is that?”

“Oh, um well, you know..” you stammer. “Like sharing drinks and stuff…”

“And stuff?” Seb teases.

You take a drag and blow your smoke in his face, causing him to cough and laugh. You start to laugh too, then Sebastian’s hand grabs your wrist, pulling you to him. With his other hand he tilts your chin up so your eyes meet, he can see the Cherry of his cig reflected in your blown out pupils. A dead giveaway that you want him as much as he wants you.

“Stuff like….” Seb drawls, leaning down to brush your lips with his own. “this?” He murmurs against your mouth just before capturing it with a kiss. You let out a soft moan, as you part your lips to deepen the kiss. You pull lightly on his full bottom lip with your teeth and he lets out a low groan, dropping your wrist and grabbing your waist to pull your body flush against his. Just as you begin to deepen the kiss the door to the saloon swings open and you hear your friends turning the corner. The two of you jump back, sucking desperately at your cigs to try and act natural.

“Oh there you guys are!” Sam says.

“Sam thought you would’ve snuck off to the woods or something,” Abigail laughs.

“Nah, we’re just enjoying the air” Seb says, hoping his voice sounds calm even though his pulse is hammering so hard he’s sure everyone can hear it.

“Yep, love me some air” You say a little breathlessly, shooting Seb a small smile.

Abigail and Sam share a look that says they are all too aware of what they interrupted.

“…anyway, I’m headed home. Seb, you ready to head out?” Abigail asks.

Shit, Sebastian got so swept up in you he completely forgot he’d promised to walk Abby home. She may have a tough exterior, but after her first trip to the mines, the darkness makes her jumpy.

“Yeah, um let me just finish this cig. “ he says.

“Oh, here you probably need this back,” you say, “I know how cold the walk up to the mountains can be.”

You start to wriggle out of his hoodie.

Seb places a hand on your arm, halting you movement. You look up at him.

“I think you need it more than I do tonight,” he says with a small smile.

“Well I’m off,” Sam says. “Bye you guys!”

“Alright Abby, let’s head out.” Seb says, “see ya later Sam… bye y/n.” His hand lingers on your arm for just a moment before he steps back and heads out with Abby.

You sigh, take a final drag on your cigarette and turn for the farm. You’re grateful for the warm hoodie, but you wish it was Seb walking you back to your house. You imagine him pushing you up against the wall the second you walk through the door. kissing you until you’re both panting and breathless. But it’s just you, alone on the farm.

You get ready for bed, keeping the hoodie and the smell of him on your body. As you snuggle into bed, you fantasize the he’s there with you. You grab your breasts and tease your nipples, thinking of his fingers pulling them and his mouth sucking on one and then the other…

~*~meanwhile, outside Abigail’s house~*~

Shit shit shit, Seb thinks. He just realized he left his house key in the pocket of his hoodie. He could wake up Maru or his mom but he always hates how they look at him coming home late, smelling like smoke.

Y/n probably just took the hoodie off when she got home and left it on that coat rack by the door. He could just slip in and grab the key and you wouldn’t have to know.

The thought of sneaking into y/n’s house while she’s asleep gives Seb a dirty thrill. He feels his cock stiffen as his mind floats to naughty thoughts of ways he could wake you up. He was so wrapped up in his fantasy the walk was over before it had begun. The farm really was so peaceful at night, he’d never noticed how beautiful y/n kept it. It’s almost as calming as the lake in the mountains.

“You don’t even know if she likes you like that Seb, stop imagining a life here,” he scolds himself, walking up to the door.

Reaching his hand up to brush the top of the door frame, he finds the key you keep ‘hidden’. Locking the door always makes you feel safe, but you also want your friends to be able to come by anytime they need.

He fits the key into the lock, turns it quietly and slips into the darkness of your home. Pulling out his phone flashlight, Seb searches the coat rack for any sign of the hoodie, with no luck. Maybe you took it off in your bedroom… he quietly walks down the hallway. Hearing a noise, he halts. Was that sound really what he thinks it was? He hears another little whimper.

“Yes, Sebby yes,” you moan quietly.

His heart hammers in his chest and his cock hardens painfully.

“Is this really happening?? Is y/n really touching herself while thinking about me??” Seb thinks.

He palms his hard length through his tight jeans letting out a small hiss of air between his teeth. Before he can stop himself, Seb peers into your bedroom. He sees you, glowing in the moonlight wearing only his hoodie. One hand clutching your breast and the other moving carefully between your legs. You’re so lost in the action, you don’t notice him enter the room.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you’re such a needy girl aren’t you y/n,” Seb says in a low, barely audible voice.

“mmmmm I need you sebby” You moan, thinking his voice was in your head. Wait…. That was most definitely not in your head. Your movement stops and your eyes shoot open to find Sebastian casually leaning against your doorframe.

“Don’t stop on my account sweetheart,” he drawls taking a few steps into the room. “Unless you want some help with that?”

You’re stunned into silence. Is this really happening? You’re open your mouth to reply, but quickly close it. You sit up and grab at your sheets to cover you, praying he can’t see your flushed face in the moonlight.

“Don’t get all shy on me now baby,” Sebastian croons, making his way to the edge of your bed.

“Wha-what are you doing here Seb??” You stammer.

He huffs out a laugh and sits down next to you.

“Awh, what happened to Sebby? I think I like when you moan it out of that pretty little mouth.”

He leans in capturing your lips with his own as his hand reaches into the hoodie pocket.

“Woah wha-?” You pull away with a start as you feel his hand brush your stomach through the fabric. He pulls his hand out and you see something flash between his fingers. A key.

“I realized I left this in there after I got to Abby’s,” Seb says, “And instead of dealing with Maru I figured I’d slip in here and grab the key from the coat rack.”

He twirls the key in his fingers, watching you squirm under the covers. He laughs, “Imagine my surprise to find you wearing only my hoodie while you moan out my name.”

Grabbing your hand, Seb gently guides you to feel his hard bulge through his jeans.

“Ahhh” he sighs at the contact, “See what you do to me y/n?”

You let out a whimper, biting your lip.

“And to find out you’re so needy for me, that’s just an extra treat.” He says, his voice low and gravely.

Sebastian shifts quickly to straddle you, grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them above you as he cups your chin with the other.

“How bout you be a good girl and let me take care of you, y/n?”

You nod vigorously and he leans in to press a punishing kiss to your lips. You both moan as he presses his bulge to your dripping pussy. His hands begin to roam your body, grabbing at your breasts and your hips. You reach down to grab the hem of the hoodie but Sebastian grabs your wrist and presses a kiss to it.

“No,” he says, his eyes dark. “Keep it on. I like seeing you in it.”

Your heart flutters and you caress his face.

“Anything for you Sebby,” you say.

At the sound of the nickname falling from your lips, Seb feels himself losing control. He would do anything to hear you cry out his name.

He leans back taking you in, hoodie bunched up around your waist, chest heaving and pussy glistening. All for him. Sebastian knows he should take it slow, savoring and exploring your body. But you’re both so ready any more foreplay would feel like torture.

He crawls out of bed, and unbuttons his pants. You’re practically drooling watching him pull off his dark tshirt and black jeans. Seb’s dark boxer briefs fight to restrain his erection. Then those are on the floor too. His hard cock springs out, and you shudder in a breath looking at him. Have you ever seen a boy as beautiful as Sebastian? His pale skin shining in the moonlight. He slowly strokes his cock, letting you watch him.

“You’re so beautiful Sebby,” you tell him softly.

He huffs out a rough chuckle, “You’re one to talk sweetheart”.

He climbs back on top of you. You pull him down for a kiss, tongues twining as you lose yourselves in the others mouth. You arch your back, pressing your body into him. His cock brushes your soaked pussy. He pulls back from the kiss on shaky arms.

“Are you sure you want to do this y/n? If we do this, I don’t think I can go back. I don’t think we can just be friends anymore. I’ll want all of you.” Sebastian says, looking intently into your eyes.

“Fuck being friends,” you say, “I’ve wanted to be yours since I first saw you.”

He groans, pushing the head of his aching cock between your wet, waiting folds.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” Seb says as he eases into you. Just the tip, letting you adjust to the size of him and allowing him to get his bearings so he doesn’t blow this moment by cumming the instant he feels you clench around him.

He takes a shaky breath and continues to push into you, stopping only when he is fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathes out. “So good and tight for me aren’t you sweet girl”

You moan and he can feel your walls clench his cock. He pulls out almost to the tip, then slams back into you.

“My good girl, so wet and ready for me” Seb says between thrusts. “You are my good girl aren’t you?” He asks.

You’re so lost in pleasure you don’t register that he’s waiting for a response. Seb reaches out and wraps his long fingers lightly around your throat. Your eyes snap up to his, you’ve never been choked in bed before.

He pushes in all the way then stills “You have to answer me baby.” Seb says, watching you with dark eyes.

“Y-yes, I’m your good girl Sebby,” you murmur, wriggling your hips.

Seb chuckles and applies a little more pressure to your throat. You moan in response and he rewards you by starting to fuck you again in earnest.

“Next time we’ll take things slower baby” he huffs, “I’ll fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.” Seb groans, his pace getting sloppier. “I’ll eat your perfect pussy until you come on my tongue.”

You cry out, eyes closing as you succumb to the pleasure.

“No no baby,” he coos, “I need to see your eyes as you come for me”.

You blink open your eyes, taking in the sight of Seb’s lean frame towering over you. Sebastian’s eyes bore into yours, so full of lust and hunger.

“Seb-sebby,” You moan “I’m gonna cum!”

His intense features break into a grin, “That’s my good girl, cum all over my cock sweetheart”.

And with that Sebastian follows you over the edge, thrusting deep into you as he spills into your pussy. His arms give out and he falls onto your chest with a huff. You giggle, nuzzling his head. Seb jerks a bit, and groans.

“What is it Seb?” You ask.

He lets out a chuckle, “I can feel you laughing”.

You giggle again, and he buries his face in your chest. “It feels good I hope?” You ask.

“Fuck baby, it feels too good,” Seb says looking up at you with a grin.

He pushes back up on he elbows, and with a hiss pulls out of you. You let out a little whine, feeling empty without him inside you.

Seb laughs shaking his head, “You really are insatiable, aren’t you?”

He sits back, admiring how lucky he is. The girl he’s thought about while alone in his own bed, now sprawled out before him. Your beautiful fucked out expression, his cum leaking out of your perfect pussy. Seb leans forward and with two fingers starts gently scooping his cum back into you.

“Mmmmm” you moan, “Whatcha doin down there Sebby?” You ask with a shiver.

He looks up at you with a bashful smile, “Just didn’t want to waste any of it,” he says as he pushes his fingers into your overly sensitive hole.

You gasp as Sebastian curls his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that drives you crazy. He pumps them in and out of you in a lazy pace, watching you whimper. Seb brushes his thumb against your clit causing you to tense.

“Shhh baby, just relax” he says rubbing your thigh with his free hand. “You didn’t think I’d give my sweet girl just one orgasm did you?”

You let out a groan as Seb slowly pushes another finger into you. He fingers you lazily, skillfully drawing out your second orgasm. After bring you back down from your high, seb slides his fingers out of you and slips them into his mouth.

“We taste pretty good together baby,” he says with a wink. You can’t move, so entranced watching him clean your combined mess off of his fingers.

“C’mon sweet girl,” he says extending his hand, “Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.”

You follow his to the bathroom, “Wait so does that mean…” you trail off.

“What? You think I’d take this good care of you to let you sleep alone?” He asks with a grin.

Read part 2 here!

[thewayshedreamed]

Nessian prompt:

We’re playing truth or dare and I just got dared to sit on your lap for the next two rounds but now I’m sitting on your hard-on and I’m kinda getting turned on cuz the ✨positioning✨. We’re both tryna fix the situation without drawing attention to us but the fidgeting definitely isn’t helping 👀

Thanks for the prompt, Bby! I know you sent it as part of my follower celebration, but it worked so well for @nessianweek Day 4: Rivalry that I couldn't pass it up.

Enjoy!

Warnings for strong language and mature themes. Slightly nsfw.

--

Nesta didn't know the last time she played Truth or Dare. She thought those days had left her at some point during undergrad, but apparently not. There she was, her last semester of graduate school, somewhat invested in a round of the game. The group had been playing for almost an hour, the drinks they poured becoming more and more stout as the night went on.

Gwyn and Emerie had convinced her to join them for a night out with the others, and to be fair, it had been quite some time since she'd allowed herself a carefree night out. Her sisters and Mor were there, as well as Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien. Amren mentioned she would "see how things went", which meant she and Varian were staying in to fulfill their own agenda. There was no doubt that was for the best since their activities would likely scar them all.

It was Mor's turn, and her mischievous smile turned on her girlfriend. "Truth or Dare, Em?"

Emerie considered it for a moment, making a show of staring at the ceiling. One of the guys made a sound similar to a ticking clock, but she paid them no mind.

"Truth."

"Okay," Mor drawled, taking a long sip of wine. "Fuck, Marry, Kill; for Rhys, Azriel, Cassian."

Emerie's eyes grew wide, snapping to Feyre and back to Mor. Nesta dared to chuckle at her friend's tight position, earning a pointed glare reserved for the worst of traitors.

"Don't hesitate on my account," Feyre giggled, resting her head on Rhys' shoulder. "I'm curious."

"That's not a fair one!" Emerie argued, gesturing with her hands. "The answer is none of the above, on all counts. For more than one reason."

The three men had the audacity to look miffed at her rejection, even though none of them had any interest in Emerie. They'd all known each other too long for any blurred lines. Mor leaned heavily against her, a look of apology in her rounded, brown eyes.

"Fair enough," she conceded, pressing a kiss to Emerie's cheek.

"That's not how it works!" Cassian challenged. It was unclear whether his ego or strict principles motivated his outburst.

Nesta fought the urge to roll her eyes, to rise to the challenge in his voice like she usually did. But Emerie was her friend, and she wasn't going to take him pushing her lying down. The words left her with more snark than usual.

"Oh, would you come off it?"

His eyes snapped in her direction, locking in on her face like a predator circling prey. "Let me guess. You have an opinion."

Nesta's blood boiled, despite the fact that she told herself Cassian wouldn't get under her skin the next time they were around each other. She was 0 for... hundreds at that point.

"She answered it truthfully, so I don't see the problem."

"It's the way the question was framed, though. It's a game within the question. There were three options. 'None of the above' wasn't one of them."

Nesta loosened the reins on her eye rolling. Cassian was good for that. "No one made that rule."

"Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that."

Emerie cleared her throat, eager to redirect his challenge before the two of them escalated. "Show us how it's done, then. Truth or Dare, Cassian?"

His attention lingered on Nesta a moment longer, a familiar glint in his eyes. Her blood heated for an entirely different reason, and she was sure to berate it for doing so.

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Azriel," she said, grinning around the rim of her glass. "On the mouth."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, resigned to his fate. He knew Cassian better than anyone, and it was only a matter of time.

Without hesitation, Cassian said, "Oh, done. Tongue?"

A chorus of laughter drowned out Azriel incredulous curse in Cassian's direction. When she finally recovered, Emerie took mercy on Azriel and excused any tongue. Cassian didn't hesitate to lean toward Azriel, cupping him roughly by the back of the neck and planting a full kiss to his mouth. There were catcalls all around; not at all needed in the encouragement department.

Azriel turned his attention to Feyre, fully succumbing to his soft spot for her and letting her off on the easiest Truth ever. It was something to do with who she would most like to draw or paint of the lot of them, excluding Rhys. No surprises on her choice of Azriel himself, but to his credit, he didn’t preen at the compliment. He humbly nodded as if anyone alive wouldn’t want to catch those angles on canvas.

“Nesta,” Feyre called, interrupting another quip she had been prepared to launch Cassian’s way. She couldn’t remember why. “Truth or Dare?”

She took a long pull of her drink and licked her bottom lip. “Dare.”

“Hmm,” Feyre considered, and Nesta had to admit to being slightly terrified of how diabolical sibling could be in a game such as the one she played. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d been right to feel that way. “I think you two need to learn to get along. I dare you to sit on Cass' lap. Minimum of two full turns.”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian’s red hot challenge bore a hole into the side of her head, and all she could hear was his taunt from before.

Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that.

She snapped her attention to his face, suppressing the urge to throttle him for the narrow-eyed smirk he offered. Angling his large body backward, he draped a muscled arm across the back of the couch and eased his thighs open. Cassian wouldn't be the one to back down, she realized.

"Fine." Nesta threw back the rest of her drink and set it roughly on the nearby table.

Cassian's eyes were sparkling, his smile feline. He tapped his thigh with his free hand to goad her, and she wondered if he— if they— would ever tire of the constant challenges. Nesta sauntered over and dropped heavily into the center of his lap, earning a loud oof.

"Fuck, Sweetheart," he fussed, gripped her waist in his large hands to rearrange their position.

The heat of his hands, the scrape of his calluses; they came together to monopolize her focus. She was almost sure that others were amused by their display, but her world was singularly focused.

Cassian cleared his throat while he eased her into a position that better balanced her weight. The tension eased from her thighs as she settled, only for him to shift her again. Nesta let out an exaggerated sigh at his constant fidgeting. The only silver lining to the near motion sickness she'd no doubt endure as a result was the steadiness of his grip against her.

The reason for all his maneuvering revealed itself seconds later. Nesta had been initially impressed with the muscle tone in his thighs, how firm the muscles felt beneath her. They were nothing in comparison to the very obvious hardness pressing against the swell of her ass.

Animated conversation continued around them, and Nesta took the opportunity to turn and offer an accusatory glare. He hissed against the pressure of her movement, sending her eyebrows into her hairline.

"Are you really h—"

"Shh!" Cassian ordered, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Can you not announce that shit to the entire room?"

Nesta blinked incredulously and dragged her tongue against his palm. He grimaced, rubbing his palm against his jeans as if she'd poured acid onto his skin.

"It's not my fault you can't... control that," she hissed.

"Well, shit, Nesta. When's the last time you had a beautiful woman on your lap and had to keep your boner in check?" His whisper was low, frantic. There were words that latched onto her nerves and left goosebumps in their wake, even when she barely heard them.

"It's only two turns," she managed, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. "Then, it'll be a non-issue."

Cassian's hands clung to her hips once more, the delicious grip of them even firmer than before. "You can't get up now; not in front of them." He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the rest of the room. "They're savages."

A laugh bubbled out of Nesta's chest, and surprisingly, it was more due to the unlikely alliance forged by biology than her pleasure in his panic. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she didn't get to dwell on it for long before Cassian started strategizing.

"We're supposed to get along, right?" He paused, waiting for the excessive noise level to settle around them. Someone must have performed a solid dare, and Nesta was mildly concerned that it hadn't managed to be a blip on their radar. "You're gonna have to keep fighting with me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "To be clear, you want me to argue with you so that we can hide this?" She rocked back into him for emphasis, and a pained sound left him. Nesta was grateful for the small silver lining that was her private arousal, otherwise she and Cassian would be in the same boat. The way his eyelids fluttered didn't help.

"I'm asking your for a small favor. When I get my shit together, you're free to go. I'm not exactly happy about it either."

Another smile teased her lips. "Small?"

"Mother's tits. Just turned around."

Nesta complied, if for no other reason than to hide the chuckle she'd been trying to choke down throughout the conversation. They engaged with the others as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring each other completely until opportunities arose to take opposing stances on anything at all. The rules of the game. Who brought the best drinks. If someone had successfully completed their dare or answered their question. Cassian had been correct in assuming the group would advocate for their continued canoodling since they weren't yet cooperating with one another.

"Nesta," he almost growled, sometime after a dozen turns of their faux discord. "This isn't helping."

She whipped around, noting the pained expression on his face. "Wait, is this working for you?"

Cassian squeezed his temples between his thumb and middle finger, looking as if he was in as much disbelief as her. The tragic part was that the arguing hadn't curbed her own body's reactions to him, either.

"That's what it looks like."

Nesta didn't cage it then, the full and melodic laughter that shook her shoulders and made her eyes water. He continued bracing his head in his hand while she delighted in his torture.

"That's awfully kinky of you."

"Alright, enough out of you," he grumbled, situating her for the hundredth time. "You have any better ideas?"

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she flicked them away. "I guess your only choice is to wait until the game ends, or someone causes enough commotion for you to adjust and take a break for a few minutes."

Cassian huffed, clearly unimpressed with her tactics.

"You'll just have to trust me, of all people, to keep your secret in the meantime," she stated, turning her attention back to the room.

His only response was a muttered curse before she felt his forehead drop between her shoulder blades.

[neon-junkie]

It Takes Two To Tango

Summary: Stuck in a failing marriage where both you and your husband are having affairs, you enjoy another night with the man that you literally bumped into at the Saloon.

Pairing: Javier Escuella x f!Reader

Word Count: 2227

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Cheating/Affairs, Degrading, Humiliation, Praise, Squirting, Cum eating, Creampies, Face slapping, Knife kink, Choking, Smut without a plot.          

Notes: I had RDR1 Javier in mind for this seeing as he's low honour, and the dialogue/actions in this are very low honour Javier based, buuuuut you're welcome to picture any Javier you want <3

To put things politely, you hate your husband. When you two first met, he was sweet, kind, wonderful, everything you'd expect in a partner; the first few years of your marriage were flawless, but something within him changed, and he began spiralling off the rails, crashing into the man that he is today.

A divorce is hard to come by, especially in this time. However, you two seem to have somewhat of an unspoken agreement that you're no longer together. Well, you still share a house, still sleep in the same bed, still ask how each other's day went; but you know exactly where he goes to every night, leaving you all alone in your comfortable home, and sometimes, the nights can get so cold without anybody to hold.

The new man that keeps you warm every night bumped into you at a bar, quite literally, and apologized profusely, then offered to buy you a replacement drink. You happily accepted, taking an instant fancy to his mysterious yet welcoming aura, and spent the rest of the night blatantly flirting. You eventually asked him to help clean the liquor he'd spilt off you, and he did so by licking a stripe from your collar bone, along your neck, settling just below your ear. "It always tastes so much better when you know you shouldn't be doing it, eh?" he huskily whispered, and you agreed by grabbing his hand and pulling him across town, straight into your bed.

Javier knew who you were when he bumped into you, he knew you were a married woman, and he mentioned that he'd seen your husband spending his time with other women, so it's only fair you do the same, right? At first, you felt guilty, until that one night where your husband came home with obvious hickeys on his neck, and you got your own back by asking Javier to mark you ten times worse.

And yet again, Javier's now climbing up the same path to your balcony, swinging his leg over the railing, and finding his way into your bed once he watches your husband leave. You're practically starving every single day, desperate for a way out of this marriage, but even more desperate to spend time with your lover. It's crystal clear how much he enjoys playing this sinful game with you, and often reassures you during pillow talk that he's seen your husband do far worse. It's only a matter of time before the tower falls.

"Javier," you mutter, wrists tied to the bed posts, legs spread, and said man lapping away between them.

"Mhmm?" he hums, his mouth far too occupied as he continues wrapping his lips around your cunt.

"T-too much, come on," you beg.

"Not yet," he quickly blurts out, and returns to lapping at your clit, sliding two fingers into you and curling them perfectly. Thank the lord that you live on the outskirts of town with no attached neighbours; you can be as loud as you want, moaning to your hearts content as Javier mutters sweet praise against your lips. "Good girl," he mutters against your cunt, his fingers continuing to work you open.

"C-come on," you beg yet again, only this time you hear Javier chuckle against you.

"Alright," he sighs. Javier removes his fingers, and licks his lips as his head raises, meeting yours. "Always so impatient, aren't you?" he laughs, but he's also the one lining his cock up to your entrance, cutting your reply short as he slides in. "I don't blame you for being impatient, you know," Javier begins to mutter, jumping straight in to a quick pace. "You must be so deprived, all thanks to that shitty husband of yours. But I'm here now, I'm here to make sure you tire yourself out every night. If your husbands not going to use this pussy, then I might as well use it," Javier shrugs.

It's never slow and steady with Javier, always quick and heated, in a rush just in case your husband does come early, even on the nights where he doesn't come home at all. Your head is rolling back against the pillow, eyes falling shut, but Javier draws your attention back to him with a slap across your cheek. "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he orders, making your eyes go wide. "That's better."

Javier moves his hand to your throat, squeezing lightly between your jawline, enough to be pleasurable, but not enough to make your mind go hazy. "Open up," he orders, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue sticking out. "That's a good girl," Javier praises, before dipping his head down and spitting directly into your mouth. "Swallow."

He's grinning as you swallow his spit, licking your lips afterward; your cheeks then begin turning red as Javier returns to choking you, a dark glisten in his eyes as he continues to pound you, thrusting into you like his life depends on it. "I fuck you good, don't I?" he asks.

"Uh-huh," you manage to sigh, nodding your head at the same time.

"Then why do you keep closing your eyes, hm? I want you to look at me whilst I'm fucking you," Javier barks, and lands another slap across your cheek. Instead of wrapping his hand around your neck, he places his fingertips on either side of your cheeks, squishing them slightly together and ordering you to order your mouth once more. You watch as he spits into your mouth again, but much slower this time, letting his spit drool off his tongue, slowly into your mouth, before dipping his head down and sealing the deal with a hungry kiss.

"Good girl," he praises again, his lips still pressed against yours. Javier's thrusts come to a halt, his cock sheathed deep inside you, and he props himself upright with a somewhat serious look on his face. "Are you going to let me do it tonight?" he questions, and you know exactly what he's on about.

"Yeah," you nod. You go to reach out, but you're quickly reminded about your wrists being tied to the bed posts, as if you've somehow forgotten.

"I guess you could say this is a punishment, huh?" Javier asks as he shifts his weight over to the edge of the bed, reaching down to pick up his gun belt, his cock still inside you. "I mean, naughty girls like you deserve to be roughed up," he continues, unsheathing his knife and twiddling it between his fingers. "Of course, I'm not going to hurt you, but I suggest you be a good girl and stay still," he smirks.

Javier's knife disappears from your sight, only for the cool metal to be pressed against your throat. The blade is barely touching your skin, hovering over you. However, it's close enough to send a chill down your spine, one that you attempt to contain in fear of the blade making contact with your throat. Javier picks up his pace again, starting with slow thrusts, ensuring the knife is at an angle where it's not going to hurt you. For a man who you met at the Saloon, you trust him, not just with keeping your affair a secret, but with hot and heavy situations like this.

"I'd say hold still, but I've already made sure you'll hold still," he laughs, gesturing with his blade to your bound wrists.

Within time, the roll to Javier's hips becomes quicker, his eyes flicking from yours to the knife at your throat. You know by now not to close your eyes, no matter how many times he hits those perfect spots inside you, your body urging to let your eyes fall shut as your head rolls back.

Javier moves the blade across your skin, trailing up your neck and jawline, and presses the flat part to your cheek. He urges you to tilt your head, and keeps the blade there as his lips meet your neck, marking you loud proud, clear enough for your husband to notice, not that he hasn't before.

"How many do you think I can leave before he says something?" Javier comments, chuckling between kisses.

"Javier, not whilst we're fucking," you sigh. The last person you want to think about right now is your husband, and Javier replies with a laugh, moving his head back up, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright, alright," he replies. "Say, could you hold this for me? I need both my hands free if I'm going to fill you up."

Before you can verbally accept, Javier's already pressing his knife against your mouth; he's kind enough to slip the handle into your mouth, rather than the blade. Instead, the blade tickles your cheek, pointing to your side, whilst your lips are wrapped around the handle.

"That's very kind of you," Javier laughs. He wraps his hands around your thighs, pulling them up to his waist, and puts all his focus into chasing his orgasm, using you like some kind of cheap street whore, not that you mind.

This time, Javier is the one to close his eyes, his breaths becoming quick and short as he slams down into you. You're a whimpering mess, most of your moans muffled by his knife, but he soaks up every noise you make like sweet music to his ears.

"Shit-" Javier grunts, his cock coming to a halt inside you as he fills you up; you can feel his cock twitching, complimented by the heavy moans Javier's letting out. There's a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead, which he accidentally presses to your shoulder as he rests against it, catching his breath as he comes down from his high. "Your turn," Javier softly mutters.

He slips out of you, and shuffles to rest beside you, propping himself up on his elbow. Javier's other hand goes straight to work, not wanting to leave you empty for too long; he slips two fingers inside you, accidentally pushing out some of his load, the white mess oozing out of your cunt. Javier's fingers curl, and he begins moving his wrist, hitting that spot inside you at a vibrating speed.

You let out a cry, muffled by the handle still locked between your lips. Javier smirks at your reaction, but he doesn't let up, keeping his pace fast, eager to see how quickly he can make you cum. As always, your body begins to shake, uncontrollably squirming in Javier's grasp. He's letting out sweet words of praise, "good girl," and "that's it, soak the bed for me."

"Javier, I-"

"What?" he questions, his fingers not losing their pace.

"We'll make a mess!"

"Not we, you. You'll make a mess," Javier chuckles. "And what's wrong with a little mess, huh? just make your husband sleep on the damp side."

For some unknown reason, Javier's comment catches you off guard; maybe it's the way he whispered it directly into your ear, or the thought of letting your husband suffer whilst you sleep peacefully, but either way, your orgasm hits like a train.

"That's it," Javier cheers, watching in awe as you squirt. He doesn't let up, his fingers still hitting that spot inside you, his palm brushing against your clit with every flick of his wrist.

Javier's milking you, and it's rapidly becoming too much, only you're still bound to the bed, unable to push him off, and the knife handle in your mouth is keeping you from calling out your protests. He's smart, Javier knows exactly what he's doing, or what he's done.

But eventually, you run dry, your body still shaking from an intense and drawn out orgasm. "That's my good girl," Javier praises, placing a kiss to your temple as he pulls his fingers from you. Javier sits up on his knees, using his dry hand to remove the knife and places it on your bedside table. "Here. Open. Clean me up," Javier orders.

Javier presents his fingers, and like the well trained slut that you are, you open your mouth, allowing him to slip his fingers inside. The taste is exactly what you'd expect, a mixture of squirt and cum, but you let your eyes shut as you clean his fingers, licking them dry, enjoying the soft moans and sighs he lets out as he watches in lustful amazement.

You're just about finished when you hear the front door slam. Javier and you share a look of pure horror, his fingers still between your lips, both of your eyes wide and visibly nervous. Javier quickly pulls his fingers from your mouth, rushing to grab his knife and cut you free from your binds, with caution.

As soon as you're free, there's a mad rush, both of you hurrying to pull your clothes on, followed by dumping all of your bedding into the laundry basket. There's almost no time for a kiss goodbye, but you manage to fit one in, sharing the taste of your regular encounter before Javier scurries out onto your balcony and hops the railing, disappearing into the night.

Thankfully, your husband doesn't trail upstairs straight away, giving you enough time to organize your laundry properly and put some fresh bedding on. And by the time he does, you're already sound asleep, worn out from yet another illicit encounter.

Isn't it about time you start looking into your divorce?

[chaoticforever]

Playboy Having Fun | Yandere Dean Winchester x Playboy! Reader x Yandere Sam Winchester

A/N: Okay, smut is in here. I worked hard on this and hope that people like it. (No Wincest) Guess there's nothing more to say, enjoy the story!

"Thank you so much, Caleb." You smiled, throwing him a wink. He blushed and scurried off to continue serving drinks as you grinned at your best friend. He was too cute for his own good. 

You let out a sigh and glanced around this bar you were at and resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the fact that these two guys were still staring at you like they've been doing for the past 20 minutes. 

One thing you could admit was that they were both hot, but you couldn't decide which one was hotter. The one with the dark blonde hair and green eyes, or the one with the long brown hair and hazel eyes. 

You've come to the conclusion that both of them were equally hot. 

These two looked like brothers. You wondered if they both would be down for fucking you in some motel room.

You were versatile. You'd top, or bottom from time to time and would definitely love to be under these men as they fuck you into oblivion. 

Now, some people may call you a playboy for the fact that you've dated, or had sex with a lot of different people. 

But, you didn't consider yourself one. You considered yourself someone who was trying to find the right person, or someone who was just having fun. 

Glancing back over at those two guys only to see that they haven't taken their eyes off you made you decide that they needed to release some sexual tension, and you were just the person to do it. 

Soon, the one with green eyes stood up, and looked like he was heading towards the bathroom which made you stand up, walking over to the one with long hair and beautiful hazel eyes. 

You sat in front of him and watched as the man's eyes widened upon seeing you, choking on his drink as a grin made it's way onto your features. 

"Hey there. What's a good looking guy like yourself sitting here all alone?" 

Sam blushed, "Well, I am here with my brother Dean, but there is this one guy I've been keeping my eye on since I've been here, and he is sitting right before me." 

You arched an eyebrow at this guy, the grin still plastered on your face. 

It wasn't a surprise that this man wanted you along with his brother. Everyone wanted you and you liked the fact that he was flirting back with you. 

"Well, this guy sitting in front of you has kept his eye on you as well." You said, "What's your name, handsome?"

"I'm Sam, Sam Winchester." He introduced himself, "What's yours?"

"I'm Y/N, Y/N L/N. One of the greatest guys you'll ever meet in your life." You introduced yourself, "So, do you work for NASA? Cause I want to send my rocket into uranus." You grinned. 

For the next few minutes, you and Sam have been flirting with one another. Giving each other pickup lines, and somehow you would always throw him the best ones while he threw you some cheesy ones that made you laugh. 

Unfortunately, the time was cut short when his brother, Dean sat down at the table and interrupted them. "C'mon Sam. We have to go back to the motel." 

Sam groaned as your gaze focused on Dean, "He can stay if he wants too." 

"We have to leave now." Dean growled out, not wanting to admit that he was jealous of the fact that Sam managed to get your attention and he didn't. 

Of course, you managed to see that Dean was jealous. You could see it in his eyes, but that confirmed for you that he was interested in you, and you were definitely interested in both of them. 

"Cut me a breaker, will ya?" You exclaimed, "Besides, I know that you both want to fuck me," The Winchesters eyes widened considerably, "And, I want to give you a both a chance to do it." 

You stood up and walked around the table, putting your head between them, "You have two options here. You could take me back to your motel room and you both could fuck me there, or I can go ahead and have a threesome with that couple over there who asked for it earlier," The brothers looked over in the direction you were pointing to and there was a guy and girl staring at you with lust in their eyes, "I'm a bisexual disaster so you guys better decide quickly." 

You walked outside and leaned against the wall, waiting and knowing that they would soon come out here. No one could pass up an opportunity with you.

Once again, you were right like you always are because not even a minute later, they exited the bar and Dean gestured for you to follow them. 

They led you over to a car that you'd be able to recognize anywhere. It was a 1967 Chevy Impala. Pretty old, but is still an amazing car to drive. 

"You have a beautiful car." 

"Thanks. Baby's my pride and joy." Dean smiled at you and got in the driver's seat as Sam got in the passenger's seat and you hopped into the back seat. 

The car ride was anything, but silent. 

Out of the three of you guys in the car, you were the main one talking. 

Asking them what they do for a living, what they were doing in this town, and how hot did they both think you were. 

Obviously, they couldn't tell you what they actually did for a living and why they were in this town, so they lied to you, and only chuckled at your last question, but didn't answer it. 

Deep down, they thought you were really hot and you knew they thought about you. Everyone thought that about you. 

And you kept on talking through the remainder of the car ride. What could you say, you loved hearing yourself talk. 

Usually, the brothers would be annoyed that someone was talking so much, but they loved the sound of your voice. It was very soothing, and they felt like they could hear you speak for hours on end. 

Arriving at the motel, you opened the door and climbed out of the car, the Winchesters doing the same, getting out of the car quicker than they usually do. 

Dean opened the door to their room and walked inside as Sam gestured for you to go first when he saw that you were waiting for him to go, "After you." 

You walked inside with Sam following behind, locking the door once he was inside. Dean and Sam stood next to each other as you went to stand in the center of the room with your back to them. 

You turned around and the Winchesters stared into your E/C eyes that were so beautiful. Both Winchesters could agree that you were possibly the most handsome man they have ever seen. 

Your eyes raked over their forms who shifted slightly when you made your way over to them, a smirk on your face. 

You put your hands on both of their shoulders and looked at them, "I'm gonna ask you both a question. Do you guys want to have sex with me?" 

They both nodded, "I want to have sex with you so badly." Dean admitted. 

"Really bad." Sam chimed in. 

You hummed, the smirk still plastered on your face, "And do you both mind sharing me tonight?" 

"As long as you're fine with being shared." Sam responded and Dean nodded. 

"I want you both to take off your clothes except for your boxers." You told them and they did as you said, taking off everything expect for their boxers as you took off you sneakers and socks, placing your hands back on their shoulders, still smirking at them.

You removed your hands from their shoulders and went back to stand in the middle of the room, smirk never leaving that pretty face of yours.

"Well, I'm both of yours for tonight, and you can do whatever you want with me." You told them, pulling off your shirt and showing them your amazing upper body.

Dean walked over to you and grabbed you by the back of your hair and pulled you towards him, kissing you hungrily, as you kissed him back hard, too. He kept kissing you hard as his huge, rough fingers brushed over the outline of your cock, getting harder and harder each second, starting from the outline of your ball sack all the way up to the tip of your cock. 

Sam came up behind you and let his equally large finger run over your upper body, feeling how smooth your skin felt as he licked a stripe of your neck, his tongue flicker over the sensitive spot, licking, sucking, and biting on the delicate skin, marking you as his. 

"Were gonna fuck you," Sam murmured into your ear, "Gonna fuck you so hard Winchester style and you'll love every minute of it. You'll be wanting more." 

You whimpered at the words spoken into your ear as your cock throbbed in your pants. Both of them placed you on the bed, the feeling of lust and want for you welling up inside the brothers like crazy. 

Both of their hands fingers graze over your upper body and Sam started sucking on one of your nipples, biting sharply and sucking on it as Dean merely stared fondly at it, pinching them and running his fingers over it before nibbling on it. 

"Oh, Fuck!" You groaned out. 

"I can't take this anymore! I need to have now!" Dean shouted before standing up and taking off your pants along with your boxes to reveal your hard dick, "You wanna get fucked by us don't you?" 

"Yes," You moaned out as Dean let his fingers run up and down your cock as well as slapping it hard. 

"Want our cocks to be inside you?" Sam asked, squeezing your balls and you managed to nod your head. 

Dean and Sam shared a look with each other. It was so strange, it was like they were having a silent conversation with one another. 

"Get on all fours." Dean demanded and you complied, getting on all fours. 

Dean went behind you and let his finger run up and down your hole before licking and munching, his tongue licking all aspects of your ass hole, eating you out as his hands grip both of your ass cheeks firmly. 

"F-Fuck!" You moaned, pleasure coursing through your veins as the older Winchester ate you out like you were his favorite meal. 

"You like that, don't you? Like my tongue eating your ass hole?" All you could do was nod and Dean chuckled into your ass, "Of course you do. Our little bitch." He murmured and went back to eating your ass. 

Sam went in front of you, and you opened your eyes to see that the younger Winchester pulled down his boxers to reveal his huge member and your eyes widened. His cock was huge. You had a feeling it was, but damn could that even fit into your hole? 

"Open your mouth, Y/N." Sam ordered, and you did as you were told and opened your mouth. He plunged his dick into your mouth, not enough to make you choke, but enough for you to suck on it, "Suck my cock, you little cockslut!" 

You did as you were told and sucked on his huge cock, bobbing your head up and down, moving at a fast pace as Sam's large hands grip your hair tightly, keeping you in place. 

As you sucked on Sam's monstrous cock, Dean stops eating your ass and runs two of his around your inner ass hole before inserting two really thick, wet fingers inside your hole very rough and fast along with holding your balls, which caused you to slightly choke on Sam's dick as your fingers dug into the motel blanket. 

Various moans from your mouth filled the motel room and that sent the boys reeling. They wanted to fuck you all night. Shove their cocks deep inside your hole as you moaned their name. 

To have you ride their cock as you scream and show them exactly how much you want them back. To open you up with their mouth and tongue until you're desperate and begging for more. 

Sam took his cock out of your mouth and caressed all the way down to your chin, staring at you fondly, "You want my cock shoved up your ass? I bet your aching to be full of cock like the little bitch you are. You want this big, fat cock don't you?" 

You nodded as Dean inserted yet another finger in your ass, "Yes Sam, I want your monstrous cock inside me now." 

Sam gripped your hair tightly and made you look him in the eyes, "You don't address me as Sam. Only as sir, got it?" He spoke, voice low that made you submit to him. 

"Yes, sir." 

Sam went behind you, as Dean went to stand where Sam was standing at. He flipped you over so your back was against the motel bed and nudged your legs apart, opening them up. 

"You are a good cockslut, and you deserve an award for that." 

After that sentence left the younger winchester's mouth, he plunged his dick into your hole causing you to hiss. His dick was so huge you were surprised that his hole even fit inside. It hurt a lot, but you experienced more pleasure than pain right now. 

"Fuck," Sam groaned, "Feel so tight! "Taking my cock like the good boy you are." 

“Oh, oh, oh Sam..." You moaned out, "Faster. I want you to go faster." 

Sam smacked your ass and you whimpered in pain and pleasure, "Remember that it's sir. Not Sam." 

You nodded as Dean whipped out his cock and grabbed your face, "Suck on this cock, babyboy." He ordered and you obeyed, taking his member in your mouth as Sam pounded into you. 

Dean ran his fingers through your hair, "Fuck, Y/N. You really are a pro at this." You deepthroated his cock which made Dean moan even louder, "...Oh God, Y/N." He gripped your hair tighter in the one as Sam's thrust became harder and harder each time. 

Sam grabbed both of your ass cheeks and gripped them tightly as he pounded into you and you could feel some pre-cum leaking out of your ass. 

"Look at our little whore, Dean. So needy for us and so beautiful..." Sam muttered. 

"I bet baby boy over here loved getting fucked Winchester Style." Dean said, grinning down at you, as he took his cock out of your mouth. 

You couldn't take it anymore. 

You could feel your orgasm coming on. You approached your climax, knowing that you were about to bust all over the place. 

"I... I'm gonna cum..." 

"Don't you dare cum right now." Dean spoke, voice demanding that made you stop at the last second. 

Sam pulled his monstrous cock out of you as Dean sat on the bed, pulling you on top of him. 

"You're going to ride my cock, babyboy." He told you, licking the outer shell of your ear, "You want some Dean Winchester's cock, huh baby boy? Want this cock up your ass. You wanna take this big dick, don't you? I know you want to take it." 

"Yes, I want you cock shoved so far up my ass. I want that Dean Winchester cock." You admitted. 

Dean shoved his dick into your hole as you screamed out in pleasure. He gripped your hips tightly as he bounced you up and down, fast and hard. Sam kissed you hard on the lips as you rode Dean and let his hand travel down to your dick, stroking It hard. 

"Oh yeah..." Dean groaned, "Take that Winchester cock. Take it like the good boy you are. Does the good boy want to cum?" 

"Yes," You responded, "I want to cum right now. Can you guys please let me cum." 

Sam squeezed your cock as Dean quickened his pace, thrusting into you faster and faster as he let his hands explore your firm chest along with sucking on your neck, both of them making you scream. 

"Cum for us. Cum for the Winchesters." They whispered simultaneously, and you cummed hard, somehow shooting your load in his Sam's large hands along with getting on Dean. 

They both cummed as well with Dean's cm making from your ass, and Sam's getting all over your stomach. 

Dean pulled his memeber out of you, and you fell on the bed, feeling drained as you always did after you had sex with someone. 

The Winchesters ran their fingers through your sweat-damp hair, as you closed your eyes falling asleep in seconds. 

Unbeknownst to you that this night has sparked something in the Winchester brothers for you. A desire that no one should have for someone. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

Blinking your eyes opened, you tried to sit up, but it felt like you couldn't move. 

Looking over your shoulder, you saw how Dean had his arm wrapped around you and Sam did too, his mouth hanging open slightly. 

It took some time but you managed to slither your way out from both of the brothers and stood up from the bed, your ass aching from all that thrusting they did to you. It felt like your ass was on fire.

You picked up your pants from off the floor and pulled out your phone, checking to see if you had any text messages from anyone. Turns out you had a message from your friend, Alex. 

Dude, I'm at the motel. Are you ready? I will leave you here if you don't come outside in 15 minutes. ~Alex. 

That was sent 10 minutes which means you have 5 minutes until he takes off. 

Quickly, you put on your clothes and hissed when you had to put on your pants. This wasn't the first time a cock went up your ass, but having two large cocks up your ass made it hurt like hell. 

In all of that hissing and putting your clothes on, you woke the Winchesters from their sleep and they noticed how you were trying to leave. 

"Where are you going, sweetheart?" Dean asked, sitting up along with Sam. 

You let out a small sigh, "Look man, we had a fun night and all, but it was just a one night stand for me," You smiled at both of them, "Well, have a nice life." 

You opened the door and walked, or more like limped out of the motel room, ignoring the brothers' shout for you to come back. 

This wasn't the first time that one of your one night stands wanted you to stay, and it wouldn't be the last. 

You didn't know exactly how, or why some people wanted you to stay with them even after you told them it would be a one night stand. 

Wait a minute. 

Of course you knew why they wanted you. You were Y/N L/N, the man who everyone wanted to be with, even some professors wanted you in college. 

When you waited outside, you saw Alex's car and walked over to it. You opened the door and slowly slipped into the passenger seat, and winced when your ass met the seat. 

"Guess someone got fucked pretty hard last night." Alex observed and chuckled when you gave him the finger. 

"Indeed my good, sir." You smiled lazily at him, and frowned a second later when you saw Dean and Saw wandering outside the motel in nothing but their boxers, obviously looking for you, "Oh, crap. We got a code green, Alex." 

Code green meant that one of your one night stands caught feelings in one night, or was trying to find you. 

Since you were in the car, you would have to duck, so they wouldn't see you through the window and Alex would have to quickly pull out of there. 

Alex let out a sigh, "Always gotta put up with this." He muttered before starting up the car quickly getting onto the street once you ducked. 

You'd hope to never see them ever again.

But they wouldn't let you leave so easily. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

Currently, you were in your room with a drink in one hand with your phone in the other along with your balcony window open when you heard it. The flapping of wings, angel wings to be more precise and that could only be one person. 

"Hello Castiel," You greeted politely, placing your phone down on the table and turning around to see the trench coat wearin' angel, "How can I be of service to you?" You asked him. 

"There is something that I need to tell you." Castiel spoke, and the angel sounded quite off to you if you were being honest.

"Well, what is it?" 

The next words that come out of his mouth made you a little scared, and you stared at him to make sure that you heard him correctly. 

"...what?" 

XXXXX XXXXX 

[jaehyunfirstlove]

I don’t know if this is too specific but can I request for a smut where jaehyun despises y/n for a reason that she acts all innocent and kind infront of everybody when y/n is actually a brat and he wants to see it himself by giving her a rough sex (almost like a hate sex as well?) I really love your works and I spend most of my time reading them, this is my first request ever! thank you if you do ❤️

Pairing: friend!jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: hate sex, unprotected sex, teasing, choking, degradation? sort of?

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: thank you for this request, hope you like it :)

“Isn’t Y/N so sweet?” Jungwoo sighed, watching you walk away towards the buffet to get him some more cocktail shrimp.

Jaehyun just watched you, eyes narrowed. He knew better, knew your little act was all for show. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What are you talking about?” Mark laughed loudly, “she’s the sweetest person we know, right Taeyong?”

Taeyong nodded, before launching into his favorite story about how you had taken care of him when he was sick once and refused to go to the doctor, while Taeil piped up about a story where you had given a homeless man your umbrella. Everyone else nodded in agreement, your entire friend group, save Jaehyun, agreeing that you were an angel on earth.

Jaehyun, however, knew what you were capable of. He was good friends with Yuta, your ex, and Yuta had told him everything about how bratty you were, how you liked to push his buttons, how you would misbehave on purpose in order to get punished. He hated this little act you displayed to everyone, disgusted that all of your friends believed you were some sweet, innocent person, when in reality, you were anything but.

---

“Here, Jaehyun, give it to me, I’ll wash it for you.”

You were all at Haechan’s house party, and someone had spilled their drink on Jaehyun’s shirt. At your offer, he only shook his head, mouth downturned.

“No thanks,” he said curtly.

“It’s no bother, really, best to get it out right away,” you insisted, holding out your hand to him, “come on, let’s go upstairs and get it cleaned.”

“No really, I’m good,” Jaehyun was positively cold now, his voice like ice.

“What’s the problem? Just go with her! She’s offering to clean your shirt!” Johnny was already a few beers in and unnecessarily loud, which made Jaehyun flinch.

“You can use my room,” Haechan offered, practically picking up Jaehyun and pushing him towards you. Reluctantly he got up, sighing heavily, and followed you up the stairs.

You led Jaehyun into Haechan’s room and closed the door behind him. “Okay, give me your shirt,” you said sweetly, “I can turn around if that makes you more comfortable.”

Jaehyun could feel his blood boiling, seeing your bratty attitude starting to come out as you stared at him cheekily. He bit the inside of his cheek, arousal and anger mixing together inside of him.

“Well?” you questioned, hands on your hips, “I won’t be able to wash it if you’re wearing it, although I guess I could try…” smirking you reached towards his shirt, but before you could make contact he grabbed your wrist.

“I don’t think so, sweetie,” he said, his voice harsh, “I’m calling the shots now.”

He squeezed your wrist harder, making you wince, but riling him up was fun, so you continued. “Is that so?” you asked, eyeing him up and down as he stared at you, “and what shots will you be calling, exactly?”

“You act all sweet and innocent in front of our friends, but really you’re just a fucking brat, am I right?”

You laughed. “Who told you that? I bet it was Nakamoto Yuta,” you scoffed, “he could never keep his mouth shut.”

“So is it true?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

“I intend to.”

He came at you then, pushing you onto the bed and then caging you in with his body. You were loving it, but still you felt the need to push his buttons.

“Took you long enough to get me into this position,” you teased, “Yuta had me underneath him an hour after we met.”

Clearly he didn’t like being compared to anyone, let alone one of his closest friends. The vein in his forehead throbbed, his mouth a thin line, as he leaned his face closer to yours.

“Keep it up, baby, and you’ll get what you deserve,” he growled, breath fanning your face.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby,” you continued to tease, adrenaline rushing through you at the prospect of what he might do to you. You had to admit, Jeong Jaehyun intrigued you, and you were dying to know if he was really packing down there like you suspected he was.

“Watch it,” he warned, bringing his knee between your legs and rubbing it against your pussy. You inhaled sharply at the friction, and his eyes grew dark as he watched your reaction. “I’m gonna fuck you right now, I’m gonna make you scream my name and forget your own.”

He was making you hot, arousal coursing through your body and turning your limbs to jelly. You were powerless as he started to kiss your neck, still rubbing his knee against your crotch, making you whimper.

“Not so bratty now, are you,” he smirked, sucking harshly on your skin and definitely leaving marks. You squirmed as he continued to rub his knee into you, but you needed more.

“Is that the best you can do?” you breathed, trying to affect a breezy air but it was getting more and more difficult with the way he was teasing you.

He growled against your neck, before he practically ripped your clothes off of you, then pulled off his own. Once you were both naked he leaned back on his knees to admire you, lying bare beneath him. Taking his cock in his hand he pumped it slowly, watching you as you watched him, salivating at the sight.

“I’ll show you what I can do,” he said, his voice low and raspy. You pretended to laugh, and it had the desired effect. His face went dark, eyes hard, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed. “I’ll show you what a brat like you deserves.”

He entered you, hard and fast, no preamble, no sweet words and soft movements to coax your hole to open up for him, just his rock hard cock ramming into your pussy. You fought the scream that wanted to tear out of your throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but that became increasingly hard when he started to build up a pace, fucking into you so hard the bed creaked loudly.

“You wanna piss me off, make me angry, well this is what you get,” he said, voice dripping with disdain. You could hear the anger in it, feel it in his movements, in the way he squeezed your wrists as he held you down. His hips were relentless, pounding into you, his cock so big and so deep inside you it felt like he was rearranging your insides. You wanted to moan, whimper, cry his name, all of it, but you fought it, keeping as quiet as you could to rile him up even more.

“Tell me you like it, you fucking brat,” he hissed, letting go of your arms so he could squeeze your breasts and pinch your nipples. Again you fought the urge to cry out as he pinched and pulled at your sensitive buds. You clutched the sheets instead, feeling an orgasm coming on and trying your hardest not to make it obvious. But your body gave you away, your pussy clenching around him, thighs shaking as he pulled an orgasm out of you so strong you could see stars in your vision.

“You don’t have to tell me, your pussy said it all,” he smirked, still railing you, tears pricking your eyes from oversensitivity but still he kept going.

“Still wasn’t good enough for me,” you lied, trying to keep your breathing even, “I’ve had better.”

He tried to look unaffected by your words, but his hips stuttered, giving him away. Without a word he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you up roughly by your hips so your pussy was opened up to him. You braced yourself on your elbows as he plunged into you again, the force of his thrust almost knocking you face first onto the mattress.

“You’re really gonna get it now, no more holding back,” he growled, and you wondered what was in store for you if that’s what he was like when he was holding back. This time, you couldn’t stifle your screams as he pounded you so hard and so deep he was reaching places you didn’t think anyone could reach. High-pitched whines and moans left your mouth as he tore you apart, as his cock pumped in and out of you making you come again and again, losing track of the orgasms you were having, his hands rough on your body.

“That’s it, baby,” he wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you up to him, whispering in your ear, “keep screaming like that, show everyone what a bratty little fuck you are.”

You’d lost yourself to him at this point, unable to resist anymore, and so you did as you were told, screaming until your voice was hoarse.

“Scream my name, baby, tell everyone who’s fucking the brattiness out of you,” he squeezed his hand around your neck, restricting your airflow, and it made you so aroused you gushed around his cock.

“Jaehyun!” you choked out, “yes! Fuck me, Jaehyun!”

He came with a deep, guttural groan, squeezing your neck even harder, his other hand pressed against your lower stomach to bring you even closer to him and push his cock even deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, all of your limbs convulsing as you came again, your mouth falling slack as the lack of air started to take its toll. Just before you blacked out completely he released his hold on you, and you fell limply onto the bed.

You were slowly coming back to yourself when you felt Jaehyun stroking your arm. You turned around to look at him and he was already dressed, sitting on the bed beside you.

“Oh good, you’re still alive,” he said it jokingly, with a smile, but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Did you prove your point? Am I really a brat?” you asked, your brain still hazy from the mind-blowing sex you’d just had.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, you’re really a brat,” he nodded, “but to be honest, I kinda like it.”

---

Thanks for 1.4k :)

[REQUESTS CLOSED]

[gubler-me-up]

Jealous Boy (MGG Request)

Request: Jealous sex with Matthew and it’s just filled with pure filth (i.e degradation, spitting etc) pls

A/N: Thank you for sending in this request, anon! We do love some jealous sex! I would have posted this earlier but I took a looong break today which I shouldn’t have but here we are back to posting in the a.m. hours. If the writing seems off you know why but I corrected as much as I could find now and as per usual will probably go back and edit later when I find mistakes while reading through LOL Hope you enjoy and happy reading 🥳

Couple: Dom!MGG/Fem!reader

Category: Smut (NSFW 18+)

Content warning: Clubbing, grinding dancing with stranger, rough sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), hair pulling, slapping, spitting, choking, spanking, creampie, swearing

Word count: 3k

————-

For weeks on end you insisted Matthew and you should go to this new club in downtown LA. You knew clubbing wasn’t really his scene anymore but you wanted to spend your Saturday night dancing the worries of the week away. He couldn’t say no to you forever, so he eventually said yes.

You stared in the mirror one last time trying to fix your hair the way you liked it. You were taking the longest time to get ready because you hadn’t been to a club in a long time and wanted to make sure you were the hottest thing insight. Matthew was waiting for you downstairs. You had told him you only needed five more minutes but you had been upstairs for twenty.

“Y/N, are you almost done?” He called from downstairs.

“Yeah, babe. I’m coming right now,” you shouted.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he shouted back.

You chuckled and decided you had kept him waiting for long enough. You grabbed your purse off the bed and bolted out the bedroom door to meet him downstairs. You ran downstairs to see him standing by the front door with his shoes on and keys in his hand.

He bit his bottom lip as he watched you come down the stairs. You didn’t know if he was fixated on how your low cut top was making your boobs pop out or if it was how nicely your jeans hugged your legs. You went up to him and broke him out of his stare by giving him a kiss.

“How do I look?” You asked.

“Fucking amazing,” he said.

You giggled. “I guess we’ll both be the hottest thing at the club.”

He chuckled. “You beat me by a mile with the way you look.”

You felt him grab your ass and squeeze it. You giggled before he gave you another kiss. You pushed him away before he got too carried away.

“Save that energy for tonight, tiger,” you joked.

“I mean we don’t have to go to the club,” he said.

You pouted. “You already said we could and I really want to.”

“I’m joking, we’re still going to go. I hope everyone keeps their hands to themselves there though,” he said.

“No need to worry, babes. I’m sure everyone will keep their hands to themselves,” you assured him.

He smiled and kissed you one last time before the both of you headed outside to the car. You two quickly started your journey into the downtown scene. You didn’t even realize how late it was getting until you saw the time in the car. It was nearing 11 p.m. You didn’t plan to stay out late especially since it wasn’t Matthew’s scene and you didn’t want him to go further out of his comfort zone than he already was.

He parked in a parking garage near the club. You eagerly hopped out and ran to the driver’s side. As soon as he stepped out of the car you grabbed his hand so you two could get a move on it. He laughed at your eagerness as you basically dragged him out of the parking garage.

“I’m telling you you’re going to fall in love with the club scene again,” you said.

“I think I’m too old for the club scene,” he said.

“Ugh we’re both too old for the club scene but it doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time,” you said.

He chuckled. “But you have way more energy than I do. Plus you have a good knee.”

You giggled. “I’ve seen you dance and you still have it in you.”

You two reached the club in no time with your pep in your step. You swore it was further from where he had parked the car. You felt bad for dragging Matthew by his arm the whole way because you knew how he took his time while walking. You were just glad you were holding his hand or else he’d probably still be in the parking garage.

To your surprise there wasn’t much of a line to wait in. You two took your place in line and waited for the few people in front of you to go in. You saw five guys walk out and got excited. The more people who left the faster you two could get in. They walked by you two as they left the club.

You heard them whispering to each other but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Matthew looking at them as they walked by. He kept looking at them as they walked out of sight. He finally looked away from their direction and rolled his eyes. You raised a questionable eyebrow at his expression.

“Is there something wrong?” You asked.

“They were looking at you and whispering to each other,” he said.

“So what?” You asked.

“They were looking at your ass,” he said.

“Ugh just ignore them,” you said.

“It’s hard ignoring five guys looking and talking about your ass, Y/N,” he said.

“Just forget about them,” you insisted.

He sighed as he dropped the subject for your sake. You were glad he did because you two had reached the front of the line. You took out your I.D. to show the bouncer and so did Matthew. The bouncer let you two in. You immediately walked towards the dance floor. The music was blasting and you could feel the beat running through your body.

You looked back at Matthew who was following you close behind. He looked as if he was still thinking about the incident outside. You sighed and walked up to him. You grabbed his hands.

“Can you look as if you have energy, please?” You asked.

“How about I get you a drink and you can show me your moves on the dance floor?” He suggested.

“Fine, I’ll be here waiting,” you said.

He gave you a kiss before walking over to the bar. You watched him walk away and stayed in your spot as you told him you would. You soon heard your favourite song blasting on the DJ speakers. You looked back at the bar and saw Matthew still waiting to tell the bartender his order.

You decided you had enough time to dance to the song. You rushed to the dance floor and started to slowly dance to it. You were trying to build your confidence up to fully show your moves. You swaying your hips and being alone on the dance floor attracted eyes to you. One of those eyes was brave enough to approach you. A guy danced up to you with a beaming smile on his face.

“You’ve got some serious moves,” he complimented.

“Thank you. You’re not bad yourself,” you said.

“Do you always move your hips like that?” He asked.

“Only to this song. It’s my favourite song,” you said.

“No way. My hips move like that to this song as well,” he said.

“Oh really?” You said.

“Yeah. Turn around and I’ll show you. I promise not to do any funny business,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him to see if he was trustworthy. You didn’t think it would cause any harm if you danced with someone else for just a second. You turned around and continued to dance as you felt him push up against you.

“Wow, you really do love this song,” he said.

“I told you,” you said.

You felt him place his hands on your hips. You felt him gently pull you in closer to him and rested his head on the side of yours. You looked back at him with a suspicious look.

“I thought no funny business?” You asked.

“Sorry, you’re right. I got carried away in how well you dance,” he said.

“You think you’re slick huh?” You asked.

He chuckled. “Maybe a little.”

You felt your arm get jerked away from the guy you were dancing with. You didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Matthew. You looked anyway and saw how upset he looked at the guy. The guy you were dancing with put his hands up in a self-defence position before backing away completely.

Matthew then turned his attention back to you. You knew he was in a jealous rage just by the way his eyes were wild. You looked at his free hand and didn’t see a drink in it. He must have watched your every move from the bar and didn’t bother ordering the drink. He was fuming.

“We’re leaving now,” he said.

“Because I was dancing with someone?” You asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” you said.

“So you weren’t dancing with him? I just imagined the whole thing?” He asked.

“Well, yeah but-”

“We’re going.”

He dragged you by the arm all the way out of the club. You pouted and sighed as you two walked out. You wanted to resist but you didn’t want him to be any more upset than he already was. You knew how he got when he was jealous and you didn’t want to provoke him any more than you had. You started to think of what would happen when you two got home.

The car ride back was quiet but he didn’t seem as upset anymore. His eyebrows were still furrowed as he drove. You didn’t think he was going to argue about what happened any further. Besides he wasn’t the arguing type regardless.

As soon as you two walked through the front door, you kicked off your heels and made your way upstairs. He was still quiet and didn’t pay you much mind. You expected him to cool down soon and you two could get past the night.

You went to the bathroom and took off your makeup. As you wiped your face with your makeup wipe you could hear Matthew walking up the stairs. You sighed and decided it was time you apologized to him for dancing with that guy. His silence was killing you and he knew it was.

You walked out of the bathroom as soon as he walked into the bedroom. Before you uttered a word he gestured with his fingers for you to come to him. You obeyed and walked up to him.

“Matthew, I just wanted-”

“On your knees.”

“What?”

“You want to make it up to me? Get on your knees.”

You immediately dropped to your knees. He forcibly stuck his fingers in your mouth to open it up wide. You opened it up as wide as possible as you watched him undo his pants. He pulled down his pants along with his underwear. His dick sprung up in front of you.

“If you want to act like a whore you’re going to be a whore for me,” he said before shoving his dick in your mouth.

You choked as his dick reached the back of your throat. He grabbed your hair and pulled your hair back and forth so your head could bob on his dick. Your hands found your way to your top and you pulled it down to reveal your breasts.

He saw what you did and pulled your hair to take you off his dick. He slapped you across your face before grabbing your face to pull you up to stand. He used his other hand to roughly squeeze your breast. You let out a yelp as he continued to roughly massage it.

“Is this what you wanted to do at the club? Show everyone how much of a slut you are?” He asked.

“No,” you responded.

He slapped you on your cheek again before grabbing your neck. He pulled you closer to him so you were right in front of his face. You saw the rage still in his eyes but there was also the look of needing you as well. Whenever he got like this you knew you were in for some amazing rough sex.

“That’s all you have to say for yourself? No? I don’t fucking believe you,” he said.

“I only belong to you,” you said.

“Is that right? Then why were you such a whore tonight?” He asked.

“I was being a bad whore. I think I should be punished for it,” you said.

“You do?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said.

He took his hand off of your neck to pull off your shirt. He slapped your right breast and you yelped. He did it again and you yelped even louder. He squeezed your soar breast and listened as your voice cracked a small scream.

“I don’t think this is punishment enough for what you did,” he said.

“So fuck the shit out of me then,” you said.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He questioned.

“I would,” you said.

He slapped your breast again. “Of fucking course a whore like you would like that.”

“Yes I would,” you yelped.

“You’re a fucking disgusting whore. Turn around,” he demanded.

You swiftly turned around and waited for his next move. He took off your jeans along with your underwear and pulled them all the way down to the floor. You stepped out of them and kicked it aside. He spanked your ass hard and you let out a shriek.

“Tell me you fucking love this,” he said.

“I fucking love it,” you said.

He spanked your ass again. “Louder.”

“I fucking love it,” you shrieked.

He grabbed both your arms to place them behind your back. He shoved you forward so you could walk towards the bed. As you reached the edge of the bed, he pulled you close to him so you could feel his dick on your ass.

“Show me how your whore ass grinded on that guy again,” he demanded.

You started to move your hips side to side to appease his request. It was hard to move your hips effectively with his hard dick in the way but you tried your best. You then felt him roughly circle his fingers on your clit. You started moaning loudly and could hardly keep your hips moving properly.

“I know the guy you were grinding on didn’t feel as good as I do,” he said.

“H-he…God, no he didn’t,” he said.

He pushed you down on the bed face down. He removed his hand from your clit and you could feel him positioning himself behind you. His dick lingered right outside of your opening and you were anticipating its entrance.

“Now you want just one dick?” He asked.

“I’ve always wanted your dick and only your dick,” you said.

“Tonight you wanted to be a fucking disgusting whore for no reason. I think I need to remind you who you belong to,” he said.

He placed his hand on your face to hold you down in place. You gasped loudly as you felt him ram himself inside of you. You couldn’t even make a word escape your mouth properly to tell him how good he was fucking you.

He hovered over your body, his face lowered down to yours. He watched you carefully as you continued to moan out profanities. He spit in your mouth as he saw your mouth gaped open. It landed on the side of your mouth and you let it seep into your mouth before you licked it up completely.

“That’s right. Be a fucking good whore for me and take that shit,” he said.

You stuck out your tongue and he accepted your request loud and clear. He spit onto your tongue again and you took it into your mouth as you continued to moan. He grabbed your ass and squeezed it as he started to ram into you even harder.

“Oh fuck,” you shrieked.

“Shut up and take my dick, fucking whore,” he said.

“Yes,” you shrieked.

He hooked his index finger onto the corner of your mouth. Him being over you having his way with you made you extremely wet. You could feel his dick slip and slide out of you with ease and you could tell on his face he enjoyed it. He bit his bottom lip and you knew it was a sign he was trying to restrain himself from cumming.

He moved his hand from your face and grabbed your arms to pull you up. He continued to fuck you as you stood in front of him. He used his free hand to grab your neck as his other hand continued to restrain you. He placed his mouth by your ear and you could hear his laboured breaths.

“I’m going to cum in you and your whore pussy’s going to take it,” he said.

“I need your cum inside of me,” you begged.

“You’re such a fucking desperate cum whore,” he said.

“I am. I fucking am,” you said.

He let out a long groan and you could feel his cum fill you up. You let out a deep moan as you let him finish before he pulled out. He let go of your neck and spanked you on your soar ass again before letting go of your neck.

“Turn around,” he demanded.

You turned around. He grabbed you by your face and pulled you close to him. He wasn’t as rough this time but you knew he was still in his zone just by the way he grabbed you by your jaw.

“I thought you would know by now I’m the jealous type,” he said.

“I do but I’m the type to like jealous sex,” you said.

“I guess that makes us a perfect pair,” he said.

He leaned in and kissed you. He eased up from the kiss and the darkness from his eyes disappeared in an instant. You smirked at him.

“I guess it does. Does that mean you’re not done with me for the night?” You asked.

“I think the night awaits a lot of different punishments for you,” he said.

You grinned. “Can’t wait.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx

[turtle-go-brrrr]

4 times Leonardo was a dork and the time he wasn’t

Heya! I adore the "strong stoic character does something embarrassing or dumb" trope, and Leo has been left behing from that one. Also, my fervent Leo Simp Friend said these were all good ideas and I trust his judgment completely, so it's also for him. Enjoy, you Dork-ass Looser (affectionate) @weird-flex-but-ok

I have one of these "4 times ______ and 1 time ______" stories for each of them, I just got really inspired by him all of a sudden. But they're coming!

There might be a few typos here and there, but I really don't wanna wait any longer to post it :3

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: cursing, injuries, blood, intrusion

Summary: You were always sort of intimidated by the leader in blue, but a series of events shows you he might not be as serious as he wants you to think.

__________________________________________

First time

It took you a while to get along with all of them.

Not because you didn't trust them, or because they made it difficult, and certainly not because they're mutants. You're just not that good with new people, and you tend to shy away. Especially when you have New York's heroes in front of you.

So yeah. It took a while. But soon enough, you warmed up to your new friends, and you had a great time. Mikey was the first who made you feel welcomed, always asking questions about you and insisting you came to the lair in the first place. Donnie followed soon, after you started asking about what he was working on. It took a bit more work to get closer to Raph, but it turns out sarcasm was the way to go.

If only their leader was as approachable.

He never made you feel unsafe or unwelcomed, don’t get me wrong, he just kept a professional distance with you, which started to become quite painful as time went on. You tried not to take it personally, thinking he maybe was as shy as you were.

You had time anyway.

It was early in the evening when you made your way to the lair. For the first time since you met the turtles, you went there alone. You were a little nervous, thinking you might get lost in the maze of tunnels under the city, but figured you could just call someone if anything happened. Lucky for you, you found your way to your friend’s place, but not without hustle.

As you entered, you realized it was uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds you could here were the faint music and the not so faint curses from Donatello’s lab. The smart decision seemed to be leave him alone, which is exactly what you did.

You haven’t been here long enough to know where to find the others, and as you didn’t exactly felt like staying alone in the living space, you tried finding your way to the dojo, as it was one of the other places you knew well.

Of course, now you got lost. Venturing into the sewers was fine, but walking into your friend's home wasn't, apparently.

You found something else, however. This particular tunnel led to a room you could identify as someone's room. You could see the large bed in the middle of the room, a small table with a bottle of water, a book, and a makeshift alarm. A set of twin swords were hanging on the right wall, just above a small bookshelf.

On your left was another table with a (healthy, you noted) bonsai tree, and next to that was Leonardo, facing a mirror. He had his right arm lifted up to his head, and was looking right to you through the mirror.

He looked absolutely horrified.

What the fuck.

He slowly rubbed his face in his hands, let out a long sigh, and turned to you, more tense than you've ever seen him. He cleared his throat as you pince your lips in a thin line to hold back a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. I... didnt think you'd come in so early."

Despite the badly lit room, you can see him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, uh, I didnt mean to... interrupt you," you say. Your voice is slightly shaking as it takes all of your willpower not to burst out laughing. And he definitely notices.

"You didn't! I uh, wasn't doing anything anyway. So, tell me- what brings you to the lair?" He asks, avoiding your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey invited me, he said I wasnt allowed to skip on movie night. You know how strong willed he is," you smirks, unable to handle it much longer.

Stiff as a board, you see the corner of his mouth twitching and hear him whisper, "... I wasn't flexing."

Silence.

You snort laugh hard enough to choke on it as you quickly turn around to hold yourself against the wall, the insanity of the situation crashing on you. Leo sat at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, and you could see him shake in repressed laughter once you wiped your tears away.

You sit next to him after finally calming down from the hysteria. He sighs, straightens his back and gives you a side glance.

"I'm not judging."

"You're still laughing, though."

"Yeah, but like, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. Still not judging."

He nods, still smiling. His voice is at least 3 octaves higher when he asks, "Please, don't tell the others."

"And what, give them the privilege of knowing about your little... ritual? Nah, don't worry about it."

_______________________

Second time

The second time your assumptions about the leader were subverted happended only two weeks after the... incident.

You had invited the whole crew to your place for the very first time, and they were all excited to come. You made a copious dinner: a few veggie cakes, chicken wings and a bowl of roasted potatoes. They were supposed to bring the drinks and movies, and April and Casey were in charge of the desert.

A perfect night, it seemed.

And it would have been if they could decide what to watch first without jumping at each other's throats.

"You guys need to grow up."

"Leave me out of thi-"

"Donnie's suggesting Velocipastor of all things and you think we need to grow up? Come on, Y/N, I thought you were better than that."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you. And second, this movie's a masterpie-"

"Yeah, because everyone knows that his supremior intellect means he's the only one who gets to choose a dumb movie. Why won't you guys watch Sharknado?"

"Supremior isn't a word. And it's because unlike you, peasants, I have taste." A devilish smile creeps up Donnie's face. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

"Peasants?!"

"You ugly-ass son of a-"

"Hey! Leave Dad out of this!"

"We could watch Shrek instead?"

You decided to go get some glasses in the kitchen, leaving the children to their stupid fight. Searching through your cupboard, you hear a crashing sound, quickly followed by utter and complete silence.

Oh no.

In insight, leaving them alone was maybe not the best idea. You were reconsidering bringing glasses into the mess as you made your way to the origin of the sound. And what a mess it was.

Your friends were all expressing shock in some way, Casey (surprisingly) being the most dramatic of them all with his hands right in front of his face and his jaw hanging open. They were all looking back and forth between you and another direction near the table.

The really cool bowl that held the delicious potatoes you made was broken on the floor. There was glass and potatoes everywhere, but the biggest shards were in a neat pile, right behind Leonardo, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"... nothing happended."

"I'm... starting to think it's a habit of yours," you say as you watch him not so discretely try to hide the broken pieces behind his foot.

"Look, if you keep putting your foot in there you're gonna hurt yourself. Just, step away a bit, will you?"

"I'm sorry I broke it. Let me help you clean up, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"It's okay! Don't touch it, I'll get a bag," you say as he starts to gather the biggest shards.

Won't even listen for one second, will he?

Raph was already picking up the untouched potatoes to put them in the plates on the table, and April went to the kitchen with you to retrieve the bag and cleaning supplies.

"Ew, Mikey don't eat that."

"Thirty seconds rule, baby."

"It's five seconds, you moron. And it's way over thirty anyway. Spit it out."

The rest of the night went on without further issues, but Leo still looked apologetic during the movie. Which is probably why he was standing before you as his brothers were leaving.

"Thank you for the evening. And I'm... sorry again for the bowl."

"Hey it's okay, man. Don't worry about it. As long as no one gets hurt it's not that big of a deal."

"I'll get you a new one." He doesn't wait for your answer and ruffles your hair before taking off.

"Text me when you guys get home!" You scream into the night, hoping one of them heard you.

______________________

Third time

It's surprisingly easy to mess with Fearless.

You were in the living room, getting your ass beat on Mario Kart by Mikey, when you decided to take a break for your stomach (and ego)’s sake. You made your way to the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were in a heated discussion. Raph looked

“I’m telling you, 4 inches is too small. What do you get from 4 inches ? Nothing. But 10 inches ? It really makes you feel something.”

…

What?

You looked down on the table and saw multiple ingredients lined up on the table, with a long piece of bread on the side.

Oh, sandwiches. Got it.

Leo’s back was facing you, but Raph gave you a knowing glance, one that said ‘do it’. So, you did. Not without a smirk, first.

“Oh, wow, Leo ! I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of conversations.” You open the fridge, hoping you can hide your smile behind the door.

“What ? What do you m-” His face falls. Raph starts chuckling next to you and it looks like Leo’s brain is rebooting. 

“I mean, I’m not judging. You do you, buddy, I’m happy for you. Just surprised you choose lunch time to talk about it.” And in other circumstances, you’d mean every word. But right now, messing with your friend is too good to pass on.

“No, hold on- I didnt mean- It’s not what you think ! I’m talking about sandwiches !” He tries to show you the ingredients currently on the table, but Raph decides it’s time to join the fun.

“Lying isn’t vey Bushido of you, Honor Boy,” he winks at you and you can’t repress a giggle.

He puts his face in his hands, knowing very well that the both of you ganged up on him but unable to save face. He just smiles, goes back on his chair and hides his head in his arms, hoping you won’t see how embarassed you made him.

“Hey, you like what you like. Have fun with your sandwiches.” You give him an innocent smile, pat him twice on the shoulder, and join Mikey back on the couch with a plate of grapes.

You could hear Raph’s light chuckle from the kitchen.

______________________

Fourth time

Mornings are hard.

And they’re even worse when you spent the whole night sewing an arm back together after a sword gave it a nasty cut. And getting glass shards off of your friend’s shell. And putting a bone back in it’s rightful place after a particularly bad fall.

Yeah. Long night. And a tense one, too.

Because with the physical pain came the chock and residual fears, the anger and blaming. Everyone was stil on guard, and all that tension was exhausting. You barely slept, too worried that one of your friend’s state would degrade if you didn’t keep an eye on them at all times. Which didn’t really help you get the rest you needed.

If you were hoping the morning would be kinder on all of you, you quickly realized that it was a mistake. While, luckily for the turles, the mutagen was already healing their physical wounds, the emotional exhaustion of the previous night was still heavy. Of all of your conscious friends, not one dared break the eerie silence.

It was weird, seeing them like this. But you couldn’t force yourself to say anything, strangely scared of what could happen. You resumed to making breakfast for everyone and bringing clean towels to the still sleeping feverish turtle in the medbay. Splinter and Mikey were at the kitchen table, quietly accepting your offering, when Leo came into the room from the medbay.

He was still half asleep, and in his drowsiness didn’t see the wall he accidentally ran into.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Everyone turned to Leo, who it took a solid minute of staring blindly at the wall to realize what just happened.

Donnie was the first to laugh. It didn’t take long for april and Mikey to join, soon followed by Splinter affectionately patting his son’s arm. Leo smiled and shook his head, as their lighthearted laugh was contagious.

The leader in blue was more of a goofball than what you first expected, and you were grateful for it in the fading tensions of the morning.

______________________

One time he wasn't

When someone intrudes your home, especially at 4 am when you were sleeping in the next room, a lot of things go through your head.

Did they take anything?

Yes. Your bag with your wallet, some cash, your credit card, your ID, and a few fidelity cards from various stores. Your laptop. A set of keys. That one blanket Raph made you (probably to carry everything without making too much noise).

Why you?

Why not? Your apartment isn't isolated, but it's not exactly on a main street either. It was probably practical for them.

Were they armed?

Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably. Statistically, most likely.

What could have happened if you had tried to confront them?

A lot of things. Maybe, if you let them know you were awake and knew what was going on, without necessarily confronting them, it would have been enough to make them run away. Or maybe there were multiple armed people, and they wouldn't hesitate to use force if necessary.

Who knows.

Can the police find this person?

Statistically? No. At least, that's what Casey told you when you asked him. Unless they got really lucky, they won't find anything.

Or at least the stuff they stole?

Again, unlikely. Unless they can trace your laptop back to the guy, or someone can give a physical description and a direction, there's not a lot they can do.

What can you do now?

Call your bank. And your insurance. And your landlord. Let them know what happened and follow their directive, they'll guide you through their procedure and help you soften the blow.

Casey was the first person you called when you woke up this night, and he was at your place within minutes with two other colleagues (the closest he could find). He spent the rest of the night reassuring you, helping you with the phone calls, asking around for witnesses, but nothing.

It's weird, feeling unsafe for the first time in a place you had called Home for years. It's disturbing. You can feel the nausea your anxiety is giving you, and a headache starts to grow at the back of your skull.

You don't really like this feeling.

So when your turtle friends dropped by the next evening without telling you and you welcomed them with a swing of your favorite pan, let's just say reactions were split.

"I can hack into your computer to find its location if you want. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What?"

"What? I mean, I didn't do it for your location last time. I know all about your search history, though."

"We're gonna have a talk about boundaries and privacy once we're done dealing with that," you sigh. You crash down on the couch next to your friend and mindlessly watch him work.

Leo comes up to you and gently nudges your shoulder. "Hey, do you have a toolbox somewhere? We brought locks to put on your door and windows. You know, just in case."

You nod, quiet, and lead him to your room where you keep most of the most useful stuff you own, including but not limited to a toolbox and a first aid kit.

Your movements were almost mechanical as you retrieved the box and handed it to him, and you decided to help him put up the locks to keep your mind occupied.

He was concerned. You looked like you were still in choc, which he could completely understand. Getting robbed is awful in itself, but getting robbed while you're sleeping in the next room? Horrific, in his mind.

He was also furious. He couldn't be there for you. This person had the nerves to go after his friend, and what if you got hurt? He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

He noticed he was staring when your eyes met his.

"Hey. We're gonna do whatever we can to find them. We're also gonna focus our patrols in your neighborhood for at least a few weeks, until you feel better," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Y/N. Trust me."

You look up to him, and when you look into his eyes, you know he means it. You let your head fall against his plastron as he holds you against him, a silent promise for safety.

"Hey shorty," Raph pulls his head into the crack of the door to address you. "Wanna learn how to fight? I can turn you into a death machine."

You heard the faint "Raph, what the fuck" coming from Mikey who was still in the living room.

You gave a small laugh as you got up, Leo following you closely to the living room.

"Hey! Fighting isn't for everyone. But I could make you a really cool taser, if you want."

"What's with you and tasers?"

"They're efficient."

The bell ringed and April came in holding 4 boxes of pizza, that Mikey assisted her with as soon as she set a foot inside.

You looked around at your friends as April brandished the pizzas like a trophy while Raph and Donnie went back and forth trying to decide who, between man power and electricity, would win in a fight.

And you realized that yes, Leo was right.

It's gonna be okay.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 58: Voicemail

Harry's mobile rang, interrupting a perfectly nice (if solitary) dinner at home with a good book.

With a sigh, he put his bookmark in his book, set his fork down in his bowl of pasta, and dug his phone out of his pocket. He looked at the screen and huffed at the unknown number, "Bloody spam call," he grumbled, tossing the phone onto the couch beside him.

He picked up his fork once more and opened his book.

He hadn't read more than two paragraphs when his phone pinged, notifying him that the caller had left a voicemail. Pointedly, he turned away from the phone and went back to reading; he made it a few more pages, his pasta bowl almost empty, when his phone started ringing again.

The same number was calling again. He scowled and ignored it, going back to his book and letting it ring out. He wasn't especially surprised when he got the notification that whoever was calling had left him another voicemail.

After that, his phone was blissfully silent as he continued reading. When he finished his book he set it down on the side table and stretched until there was a satisfying pop in his lower back.

He glanced at his phone, his curiosity winning out, and reached for it to play back the voicemails.

"Potter? Are you there?" a drunken voice slurred, and Harry knew that voice but he couldn't possibly believe that the person it sounded like had a muggle phone and even if he did, it didn't make sense that he'd be calling Harry. "Oh I can never understand these stupid things. Am I supposed to push a button so you can hear me? This is Draco Malfoy, so if you can hear me, you'd better speak up."

To say that Harry was shocked would be an understatement.

(Read more below the cut)

"You know I don't understand how to make this work," he whined at Harry, "Can't you help me? Isn't that what you do?"

Harry huffed.

"Fine. Don't talk to me. You're the one who's missing out. I'm hanging up now, Potter."

He shook his head and hit delete on the voicemail before opening the next one.

"Potter," he greeted again and Harry almost laughed because he didn't know how it was possible to sound so drunk and so posh at the same time. "I've been informed that you were not, in fact, on the other end of the string...wire?... line?..." he trailed off and this time Harry did laugh.

"Whatever. None of those words make any sense. Anyway, I was told I left you a recording of my voice. You're welcome."

Harry laughed again, ridiculous man.

"So, since you weren't being rude before, I thought I would call to present you my offer. I am out at a club dancing and drinking with Pansy, and I couldn't help but wonder what you might be doing. I'm going to guess that you are finishing a terrible detective novel while you sit on your sofa eating dinner by yourself."

He rolled his eyes, "I like my detective novels, thank you."

"And I know you're probably rolling your eyes and extolling the many virtues of your paperback novels, but they're absolute drivel, Potter, you must know that."

It was ridiculous to be fond of this man. Utterly and completely ridiculous, but Harry was nothing if not fond of Draco Malfoy.

"Anyway, I bet that your cat hasn't even joined you on the sofa. Magnus has much better taste in literature than you do."

Magnus was currently resting on his cat tower, but if he'd been asked, Harry wouldn't have admitted it.

"The point I'm trying to make, is that you are living a lonely, miserable life. So you should come out dancing with me. And I know," he carried on, "that you would say that you don't dance but I can teach you."

He smiled at the phone, gripping it a little tighter as he imagined that scenario playing out in his mind.

"And then, you can take me home with you at the end of the night."

Harry promptly choked on his saliva. Draco Malfoy couldn't be implying what he thought he was implying.

"What's your bed like, Potter? Is it soft? Is it red?" he asked aghast. "Maybe we should come back to mine instead. You'd look so lovely on my green sheets." He trailed off with a wistful little sigh. "Or. Just call me back and tell me to leave the club right now. Tell me to floo over and maybe we won't make it past the living room. Maybe on that hideous sofa. Hell maybe we won't make it past that garish rug."

There was a short pause and Harry wondered if Draco was imagining it like he was.

"I'm dying to kiss you." he murmured. "Surely you see it, surely you know. And I'll be anything you want me to be, Harry. Anything. Because you must know that I-"

The voicemail ended abruptly and Harry glared at the phone. What happened? He opened the voicemail box again and a notification popped up. His mailbox was full. Of all the rotten luck.

And he had no idea where the other man was and even if he had known, did it really make sense to go there anyway?

He listened to the voicemail, then he listened to it again.

And again.

He listened and he fell a little bit more in love with Draco Malfoy and he knew that even if he had known where he was, he wouldn't have gone, because he didn't want to be something the other man regretted in the morning.

After retrieving Magnus from the cat tower, he carried him into his bedroom and decided to deal with everything in the morning.

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

Harry slept very poorly that night and when 7:30 rolled around Harry couldn't stand it for one more second. He stuffed his feet into his trainers, pulled a sweatshirt over his head, and apparated to Draco's front door, pounding on it before he could stop himself.

He waited for a long moment and when there was no response, he pounded again.

The door swung open while he was still knocking, revealing a very tired, very grumpy Draco Malfoy in nothing more than a pair of boxers, "What the fuck." He stared at Harry as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes. "What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?"

"What were you going to say?"

"Potter, I am in no mood for your bullshit; I am tired, I am hungover, and it is bloody early. You're going to need to start making sense. Right now."

"You said, 'I'll be anything you want me to be, Harry. Anything. Because you must know that I-' and then my voicemail was full and I couldn't hear anything more."

All of the color drained from Draco's face, "I think I'm going to be sick." He turned around and stumbled back inside, but he left the door open so Harry took that as an invitation to enter.

Draco was serious, apparently, about getting sick because he made a beeline for the bathroom and Harry heard him vomiting before he reached the doorway.

"Oh," he murmured sympathetically, making his way over and gathering Draco's shoulder-length hair in his hand to keep it out of his face. He rubbed soothing circles on his back as he heaved up the contents of his stomach which truthfully smelled like pure vodka.

"Go away," Draco finally groaned when he'd managed to stop dry heaving and flush the toilet. "Just leave me to die. That would be preferable."

"Stop being dramatic," he said as he stood and moved toward his medicine cupboard. "I'm sure that a potions master has a hangover potion lying around here somewhere." He dug through until he found a bottle and handed it over to Draco.

Draco took it, wincing as the pain of the hangover he would have had hit him all at once. He shuddered, "Fucking Pansy," he grumbled. "Thank you for your assistance, you've done you're duty to help those less fortunate than you, you may go."

"Not likely," he replied. "Why don't you shower and get cleaned up? I'll make some breakfast and we can talk."

Draco groaned, "Let me die."

Harry rolled his eyes, "You have ten minutes, then I'm coming in and dragging you out."

He made his way to Draco's kitchen and made some scrambled eggs and toast for both of them, as well as coffee.

Draco appeared after nine minutes and fifty-two seconds. "Please, Potter," he groaned, "Can't you just drop it. I promise never to drunk dial you again," he added as he slid into a chair and took a sip of his coffee.

"Draco what was the end of that sentence?" Harry asked.

The other man picked up his slice of toast and took a bite, "I don't know. I was drunk off my arse."

"Don't lie to me," Harry replied. "I'm not stupid."

Draco's eyes flicked up to meet his, "I know that."

"Please," Harry whispered, "What was the end of that sentence?"

"You aren't going to let it go are you?"

He shook his head.

Draco's shoulders slumped, "I am in love with you," he whispered. "That's the end of that sentence. And usually I have enough of a sense of self preservation and dignity not to just go spouting that sort of nonsense to someone who couldn't possibly feel the same-"

"But I do!" Harry exclaimed. "I do feel the same. I have for absolutely ages."

"You don't have to lie to me-"

"Do you remember that trivia night we went to eight months ago," Harry interrupted, "the one where everyone else bailed?"

"Yes."

"I knew," Harry said, "I knew that night that I was completely besotted with you. We were the worst team there."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Right. Everyone falls in love with someone who's a complete idiot about a subject school children could play better."

"I fell in love with someone who didn't take himself seriously. Who laughed at getting the answers wrong, who was clever and funny, and made up answers a hundred times better than the real ones." He looked down at his hands, steeling himself to say something hard but real, "Things are hard for me sometimes," he confessed. "I get stuck in my head and it's not," he swallowed, "Not always good."

Draco's hand found his across the table.

Harry looked up, "But I don't feel like that when I'm with you. I can't remember the last time I'd laughed like that before that night. And I'm not trying to put pressure on you," he added, "I see a mind healer, I'm not asking you to fix me," he said. "Just, when I'm with you I feel like there's something to look forward to." He swallowed and Draco waited patiently for him to continue, "And I couldn't let myself imagine that you might want someone broken like me, I wanted to be better before I let myself even think about it. But then you left me that messa-"

"You're not broken," Draco murmured, bringing Harry's knuckles to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to them that left Harry breathless. "The war changed all of us and we all have healing and growing to do from that, but you aren't broken. You're enough as you are right now."

"You don't know what my bad days are like," Harry said.

Draco shrugged, "And you don't know what my bad days are like, but you're not holding them against me."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

"I really like you," Draco confessed. "A lot. And I know that things aren't always going to be easy, but if we wait for either of us to be perfect before we try, we'll wait our entire lives." He swallowed and Harry watched his throat bob with the motion, "Could we maybe try healing and growing together?"

"I'd like that," Harry whispered.

"Good," Draco replied before standing up and moving around the table to straddle Harry's lap, "Then I'm going to need you to kiss me."

"I can do that," he replied, cupping Draco's cheek and leading his mouth down to his.

Their breakfast got cold but neither of them could bring themselves to care.

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

Day 57: Text Message | Day 59: Ring

[crowdedimagines]

Spill It - Harry Styles

an// i literally love the spill your guts concept, but hopefully this is a new take on it! also, this is not going to be chronologically correct to real life, that’s the fun of fiction! also in a world without covid

“I will never understand how you continue to convince people to do this.” I sigh, taking in the table in front of me.

“Let’s take a look at what Y/n here is so fond of.” James teases before giving the table a good spin, showing off all of its contents, “To start we’ve got salmon smoothie, beef tongue, bird saliva, scorpion, fish head, hot sauce, bull penis, and finally, the water beetle. I think you’re both familiar with the rules of this game.”

“I’m sure.” Niall smiles, turning his head towards mine and I nod in agreement.

Niall and I go way back, having been friends for years. We met back in 2013 when I opened for One Direction’s tour. I quickly become close with all of them. One more so than the others. Harry. He and I just clicked, everyone knew it. It took months for us to start dating, afraid that we would ruin the good thing we had, but neither of us wanted to wait anymore. You can’t pass up a connection like that.

“Niall, I will ask you the first question.” James announces, “We’ll go with the salmon smoothie.”

“Oh god.” He mutters.

James lets out a loud laugh and covers his face in shock over the question. He turns it to me so I can catch a glimpse before he reads it out-loud and my jaw drops.

“You might as well drink now, not even hear the question.” I tease, leaning across the table.

“Niall, who is your least favorite member of One Direction?”

Niall’s head drops in defeat, even though he was sure going into this a question like this would be brought up. He just wishes it could’ve been on something a little easier to choke down.

“Drink up, babe.” I smile, a teasing smile crossing my face.

“Fuck.” He shakes his head.

“I can’t… “ He reaches for the glass and throws it back, it takes a few seconds for the sludge to finally shift and he can get a mouthful. A sour look takes over his face as soon as it reaches his taste buds. He quickly leans down to spit it in the bucket.

“That’s horrendous.” He coughs, “It was like a salmon yogurt.”

“Alright Niall, your turn to ask Y/n.”

I smile politely to my friend of many years who takes on a sinister look once he’s read the question.

“Please be nice.” I stick out my bottom lip.

“Right right.” He laughs, spinning the table as he takes in his options.

“Don’t forget I have a very good memory, especially of the years spent on a shared tour bus…” I chaff.

“Don’t remind me.” He settles on the hot sauce, thankfully one of the lesser evil options. I would take this over anything else on the table.

I did crash on their bus more than my own. It started because they were fun, barely older than me, but then when Harry and I started dating we became. Even sharing a bunk as uncomfortable as it was most nights. Those boys grew up with me, and I’m thankful to still be in good contact with all of them.

“You recently welcomed your third god-child into the world when Zayn Malik and Gigi Hadid welcomed their daughter to the world.”

“Yes, I did.” I smile at the cheering audience. I have managed to do the impossible in staying close with all of the boys since the hiatus. Well, all but one. Gigi and I met years ago, and I introduced the pair at an award show. The other boys had their reason for making me god mother, but it did give me this monopoly on all of the One Direction children. 

“You are actually the god-mother to all three of the One Direction children. Who’s your favorite?”

My jaw drops at the question. Who had the audacity to ask that? To think I could ever answer that about any of my little nieces and nephews. The audience cheers in shock over the question as well.

“You’re joking.” I scoff, “They’re children, I could never pick a favorite!”

“How about your least favorite then?” James teases.

“You lot are all horrendous!”

I grab the shot glass and down the hot sauce immediately. I love all of them way too much to ever pick. I’m sure it’s exactly what they expected with a question like that. It burns for a few seconds and I put the glass back and try to shake it off.

“Nice one!” Niall cheers.

“Now James-” I clear my throat, the hot sauce catching up with me, “Name one guest that you would never invite back to the show.” I bite back a smile and fan my face with the card.  

James looks up into the camera as if he actually wants to answer.

“C’mon, you can do it! Just for once.” I grin like a little kid in a candy store, I want him to answer. I want to know, and it would be nice to finally get him to reveal an answer like this.

“Are you trying to get this show canceled?” He turns to one of the producers off screen. He looks between them and the water beetle I’ve placed in front of him. He gives his head one last shake before throwing it down the hatch.

“Niall, it’s your last night on Earth, you can either spend it with your ex girlfriend Ellie Goulding or Selena Gomez?”

He goes back and forth, trying to be polite with his answer before eventually picking Ellie.

“Y/n, who is your favorite member of One Direction?” Niall asks, the smirk growing wider with every word he utters.

The crowd roars, knowing very well of my relationship from a few years ago. One that people still brought up regularly in both Harry and my life due to us remaining friendly. 

“What is up with you guys wanting to know my favorites?” I roll my eyes, “Give me something I can actually answer.”

“Fine! I’ll ask you one!” Niall grins, an evil and family glint in his eyes appearing, “What songs have you written about Harry?”

A red hue takes over my face again, only this time it’s not from the hot sauce.

“Either that, or the bird saliva.” He grins, showing off a wide smile. If only we weren’t on national television and I could smack it off.

“It smells like wet dog.” I sigh, I pick it up giving it a whiff before setting it back down on the table, “Could I name one song?”

Niall and James exchange a look before the nod accepting it. 

“I wrote the song Everything about him.” I smile. It shouldn’t exactly be a surprise to most people, there were clues. Both of our fans were smart enough to catch on and read between the lines. It was a song I released almost two years ago, the album following our breakup.

It was a powerful song, it quickly became one of the favorites of my fans. It’s also one of the few that I don’t perform. I can’t think of a time I’ve sung that song without crying, it wasn’t meant for the stage. It was meant to be played in your bedroom while you stare at your ceiling. People have always understood that. 

“It’s a lovely song.” Niall smiles knowingly.

“Thank you.” I smile, I move on and reach out to ask James his question.

“James, you have been blessed to have both Niall and I on for carpool karaoke.” I smile at Niall, “Which one did you enjoy more?”

I can’t fight off the laughter that takes over. As if it isn’t hard enough to answer questions like these, it’s only upped the ante by having us both here.

“You’re kidding.” He dabs away the sweat on his forehead.

“It’s okay, Niall won’t be that offended.” I reassure and stick out my tongue at Niall.

“You’re an arse.” Niall laughs with the roll of his eyes.

In the middle of Niall and I acting like children bickering, James tears off a bite of the cows tongue without another word.

“Oh god.” I turn away from the unpleasant sight.

“That’s rank.” Niall huffs.

Niall answers his next question from James again, successfully getting away without eating anything.

“Y/n, if the past four years you have gotten into acting. You have made quite a name for yourself on the big screen as well as on the stage.” Niall begins.

“I don’t like where this is going.” I laugh.

“Rank your co-stars from your past films best to worst; Dylan O’Brian, Logan Lerman, and John Boyega.” Niall smacks his knee with a laugh.

“I have been blessed to work with so many talented actors” I start, picking up the terrifying looking bug that has been placed in front of me.

“Mhm.” James agrees with an evil smile on his face.

“So talented, that I could never rank them.” I throw back the scorpion before I can second guess myself. I manage to chew enough of it for it to count before spitting it out as gracefully as I can.

That’s a wrap after that, enough time getting juicy content out of us quite literally either spilling or filling our guts. I give Niall a hug before going back to my dressing room. I couldn’t be more thankful to share the couch tonight with a long time friend.

I drive home, eager to go home and relax. The episode won’t air until later tonight which gives me a couple hours of peace from Twitter. I take a bath and make myself some dinner, before eventually climbing into bed and turning on the TV to watch the episode.

It’s good, fun to watch back. Niall and I make a good pair, easy to read the friendship on camera. In time the episode ends and I turn off the TV and decide to go to bed. It’s been a long day full of press. Before I can actually drift off my phone lighting up and vibrating on my nightstand grabs my attention.

You are my everything too. xx

PART TWO??????

[voiceless-terror]

Recognition

@aspecarchivesweek Day Five: Something New

Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Season One

In which Jon and Martin are more alike than they thought.

Jon, in spite of himself, was starting to get used to Martin living in the Archives.

Offering him shelter had been almost instinctual- after listening to his story, who wouldn’t? Terrorized for almost two weeks and no one, no one noticed. There was also the matter of Jon’s guilt; Martin thought he needed to put himself in danger to be thorough, to please Jon, and now he was homeless. Jon owed him this at the very least. No matter how much Elias disapproved of the situation.

And despite the occasional trouser-less wanderings, his presence was...appreciated. Late nights in the Archives were wearing him down: the statements were getting to him, and the unshakeable feeling of being watched when he knew he was alone was putting him on edge. Now he can blame that feeling on Martin, who he’d caught staring on more than one occasion. Jon was not surprised; he hadn’t been looking or feeling his best, highly unprofessional with his three-day stubble and rumpled clothes. Not a good look.

He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t enjoy the cup of tea when Martin joined him in his worst bouts of insomnia. He would sit on the tiny couch in his office, nursing his own mug and chattering away in a low tone that Jon was starting to find soothing instead of irritating. At first Jon clammed up, uncomfortable with the sudden intrusion on his late night routine, but he soon found Martin didn’t expect him to respond or contribute, save the occasional grunt of acknowledgement. Sometimes Jon even craved the company, the familiar rhythms of Martin’s voice had become an unconscious comfort. 

Tonight he was looking particularly exhausted, slumped in his seat with deep purple bags under his eyes. It sent an unwelcome pang through Jon’s chest; Martin should be sleeping, not entertaining him because he chose to stay late. He said as much.

“You don’t have to stay up on my part.”

“Hm?” Martin looked up from his lap, eyes finding Jon’s. “Oh, no. It’s fine. I like the company, to be honest. Unless…?”

“I don’t mind,” Jon assured him. Shockingly, he found he meant it. Still, it didn’t ease his guilt. Martin was always here, never leaving the Archives for more than an hour to get food or other necessities. He considered his next words. “That being said, I hope you know you’re allowed to have a life outside of the institute. I won’t judge if you want to have a...late night, or go out. It’s not my business what you do in your free time.”

Martin squinted his eyes as if he didn’t understand the words Jon spoke. Christ, do I really seem that out of touch? He knew he could be severe and well, a bit of an ass at times. The stress of the job got to him more than he cared to admit. But he didn’t want his assistants to think they should follow his example. He was Head Archivist, it fell on his shoulders to get this place in some semblance of order. 

“I’m not really one for nights out, Jon,” Martin gave that familiar, self-deprecating laugh as he leaned back in his chair, an almost defeated-like set to his shoulders. “Well, besides the occasional drink with Tim and Sasha. And even those are sort of...I don’t know. They have their own thing going, and I feel like-”

“A bit of an outsider,” Jon provided before he could activate his ‘word to mouth’ filter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply-”

“No,” Martin cut him off. “You’re right. Feels like I’m intruding.”

“Their banter can be overwhelming for the, ah, uninitiated.” On the few times he’d gone out with them in research, he’d felt more lonely than included. His awkward attempts at interjecting could make a conversation fall flat and he felt the need to accept every drink they handed in him the hopes of ‘loosening up.’ It never worked. They were never mean about it, no- or at least had the decency not to do it in his presence. 

“Tell me about it.” Martin gave Jon a tiny little smirk that sent his heart stuttering in his chest for no particular reason. “I’m used to it, is all. This isn’t much of a change in routine, worms notwithstanding.”

“You, er, don’t have friends you can meet up with? Or maybe a partner?” Christ, why am I prying? What’s gotten into me? Jon felt curious, the man practically lived with him and yet he barely knew him.

The bark of laughter he got in reply was sudden and more than self-deprecating. “A partner? Are you kidding me?” Martin’s tone threw him off-balance; it was jaded, bitter, not like him at all.

“I didn’t mean to pry-”

“No, it’s- to be frank, I don’t think I’m cut out for all that.” Martin toyed with the mug in his hands, gazing into it like it held the answers he needed. “I’ve uh, tried to go on a few dates, meet people, that sort of thing. But they all expect something at the end and it just never feels right, I can’t explain it. Like there’s something missing. ”

Jon paused; the words and their sentiment were not unfamiliar to him. In fact, they resonated quite deeply, if Martin meant what Jon thought he did.

“It’s always been that way- I get a crush, I get to know them, they want to, y’know, and I-I don’t know what's wrong with me, but I can’t-” He cut himself off, sitting up straighter as if suddenly remembering where he was and who he was talking to. “God, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this-”

“It’s fine.” And it was. Martin looked at his hands and Jon recognized the sadness in the set of his shoulders, the lines etched in his face. He never thought the two of them would have much in common but that- that was a feeling Jon knew all too well. “I think I understand what you’re getting at.”

Martin somehow managed to deflate even further, curling up as if trying to disappear. “Yeah, well- I think it’s time to admit that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life.”

The words hit Jon harder than expected. His fists tightened in his lap; he was sixteen again, wondering why the kiss he stole in a backroom felt more invasive than intimate. He was reading romance novels, understanding the words but not the feelings they were supposed to invoke. He was in college, being called a ‘tease’ or a ‘prude’ when he pulled away at the end of the night. And it was all accompanied by that deep, crushing fear that he’d never be enough. 

No, you’re not that kid anymore. 

And Martin shouldn’t have to be either.

“What’s that look for?”

He was drawn from his thoughts at Martin’s words, looking up from the scratched wood of his desk. “Sorry?”

“You’ve- you’ve got that look on your face, like you’re const- like you’re thinking really hard.”

Jon tried to think of a way to word his query delicately, but ‘delicacy’ had never been his strong suit, according to Georgie. Come to think of it, it was never hers either. “Have you ever considered that maybe- that you’re- you’re of the persuasion, that is-”

Martin shot him a deadpan look, unimpressed. “Yeah, I know I’m gay, Jon.”

“That’s not-” He sighed in frustration, fuming at his inability to communicate. “It’s okay to not feel that way. I never have. It’s normal.”

Martin blinked. “Sorry?”

“Asexuality, that is,” he said, finally managing to get out the words. “I was...in a similar position, I guess you could say. I didn’t feel the way you were ‘supposed’ to feel, like how all the books and TV shows describe it. Zero interest in anything sexual, and I thought...well, I thought something was wrong with me.” Jon felt a lump building in his throat, much to his horror. “But being able to put a name to it, an identity, it just felt right.” Martin’s face was unreadable- had he spoken out of turn? Did he have this all wrong? 

He tried to clarify. “What I’m trying to say is that I know what it’s like, that...feeling you described. But it doesn’t mean you’re not cut out for love. You...you shouldn’t have to feel that way about yourself. You’ll find people who accept you. You’re not doomed to be lonely.” Now you’re just getting sentimental. Jon wasn’t one to dole out advice. He attempted to reign it in, get himself back on solid, familiar ground. “Maybe don’t take me for an example, though. I assure you, my isolation is very much self-imposed.”

Martin didn’t laugh. For a brief, panicky moment Jon thought he might have offended him, assumed the wrong thing, taken him out of context. But Martin met his eyes and Jon saw it- a look of dawning understanding, of comprehension and knowing and as much as Jon wanted to look away he couldn’t, because for the first time in a while he thought he might have said the right thing. 

_____

He watched as Martin puttered about in the break room and took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders. Martin hadn’t said much after their conversation, just thanked him in a choked voice and mumbled some excuse about going off to bed. Jon felt a bit conflicted- he now had time to ruminate on the conversation, pick it apart and wonder if he said anything wrong. He didn’t think he had, but his instincts had been proven wrong before.

Still, the thought of helping one person, sparing them from that crippling self-doubt and inadequacy, made any embarrassment or awkwardness well worth it. So here he was, shuffling his feet and holding a stack of paper, stapled and neat and in some cases, annotated. He cleared his throat and Martin turned away from the sink to face him.

“Oh, g-good morning, Jon.” He wiped his hands on a dish towel, throwing it lightly on the counter. “Did you sleep well?”

He’d gotten two hours tops on the lumpy couch in his office. I need to invest in another cot. But he nodded anyway, walking forward and thrusting the pile out for Martin to take. Martin looked down at it quizzically but took it all the same, his face softening as he flipped through the pages.

“I, um- I printed out some articles that I thought might be of interest,” Jon rambled, feeling more awkward by the second. Was this too forward of me? “I’ve always found it easier to read on paper instead of the screen. For ah, concentration purposes. This- this isn’t required reading, or anything. Just might be helpful for, uh, figuring things out.”

Martin didn’t look up from the pages in his hand, instead zeroing in on them with a more intense stare. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight with sincerity. “Thanks. It uh, it means a lot.”

“Yes,” Jon replied nonsensically, having no response to the emotion in Martin’s words. “You- you don’t need to talk to me about this, if you’d rather not. But I’m available if you’d like to.” He paused. Best to keep this somewhat professional- it was almost nine. “Outside of normal working hours, of course.”

“Of course,” Martin echoed, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he finally met Jon’s eyes. He fought down the urge to smile back, instead muttering an excuse and turning to flee the room. I think I’ve filled my emotional quota for the week. 

They don’t talk about it again, but a few days later a sticky note appears on his desk. Thanks- MB. Underneath the clear script he’d doodled a small flag- black, grey, white, and purple. 

Jon puts it in his right-hand drawer next to an old polaroid of the Admiral, where it stays.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782318

[wordsnwhiskey]

As It Should Be | Chapter 4: Company

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Whiskey gets a surprised call and he and Frankie have a long talk.

Rating: M

Warnings: Talks of drug use, alcohol, mentions of character death, mentions of canon typical violence, PTSD, violent nightmare

A/N: I really wanted this conversation to happen between these two given their respective histories. We all know that Whiskey needed therapy and in this verse he gets it. It’s also my HC, from what I vaguely know (I’m not an expert and I could be very wrong), that Whiskey was an officer in the Air Force where he flew/placed in jets and that’s how he knows how to fly an F-22 (The Silver Pony).

We are getting some angst and some fluff this time folks!

Also, yes I do have a specific soap in mind for Whiskey, it's Old Glory by Duke Cannon

Huge special thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and encouragement!!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons | AO3

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Frankie pulled his phone out, went to the recent number that was, as of yet, unsaved, and pressed ‘call’. His shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear as the line rang.

Whiskey’s hair was still wet from his shower, and his white t-shirt clung to his damp skin. Eyeing the take out on his counter, he sank into his couch and smiled at your texts:

Whiskey: Thai sound good, sweetheart?

Bourbon: God yes Jack, I’m starving!

Whiskey: I’ll let you know when I get outta the shower, see you soon sweetheart

He was just about to send you a message to come on over when his phone rang. Glancing at the clock on his stove, then back to the unfamiliar Texas number on his caller ID, he frowned.

“Whiskey.”

His greeting was curt. Who the hell would be calling at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday?

“H-hey Whiskey, it’s me, Frankie. Is… uh, is she there?”

Whiskey’s frown deepened, not that he minded Frankie calling him, far from it, but his voice was cracking like he’d been... crying?

“Oh, hey there, Flyboy. No she isn’t, do you need me to get her?”

“N-no, no… I, uh, I don’t want her to see me right now. I’m, uh,” Whiskey could hear Frankie take a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I’m having a bad night, Jack. Could you come get me? I’m at the hotel.”

Jack shot straight up, practically leaping to his feet.

“Did you…?”

The question clung to the air like lead, crushing both of their chests in the silence.

“No, I haven’t… I just… fuck.”

Jack was moving, grabbing his leather jacket, keys, and Stetson, practically sprinting out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Flyboy. I’m headed your way.”

He shifted his weight while he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage, shooting off a quick text to you in apology. Frankie’s words, “I don’t want her to see me,” rung in his ears and he decided to hold off on telling you what had come up, at least until he could see you at the office tomorrow.

Whiskey: Hey sweetheart, sorry something came up and I can’t do dinner tonight. Everything’s fine, see you at the office, sugar. X

Your phone went off and you quickly unlocked it, eager to hear back from Jack so you could head over. A frown pulled the corners of your lips down at his text, but you knew he wouldn’t cancel on you without good reason.

You: See you tomorrow, cowboy. Better make it up to me ;)

Frankie had left the door slightly ajar and was pacing around his room, arms crossed in front of him when he heard a quick knock, then the handle was turning and Whiskey crossed the threshold. He took a cursory glance around the room: nothing but minibar booze bottles, thankfully. Whiskey let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived when he took in Frankie’s demeanor. Frankie’s face was taut with shame, and his gaze refused to rise any higher than Whiskey’s boots.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Frankie choked out, “ Pope, and Hawk… I can’t disappoint them again. I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t…”

Jack shook his head and beckoned Frankie over, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, tight hug.

“C’mon, Flyboy, this is not the time nor the place to talk about this. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’re gonna have some whiskey that’s much better than what you’ve had here, and then we can talk.”

Frankie nodded and grabbed his hat, planting it on his head as Whiskey tugged him out of the hotel room. He was so deep in his thoughts and his guilt for having Whiskey come out that he didn’t realize where he was until the elevator dinged. Whiskey unlocked and opened the door to his condo, giving way to a view so incredible Frankie almost forgot to breathe. Across from the entryway, on the far side of the condo, the gorgeous New York night skyline twinkled back at them from beyond the wall of glass windows. Frankie marveled at the rustic elegance of Jack’s home. It had an entirely open floor plan, giving Frankie a view of the dark cherry butcher block island, the top-of-the-line range top, and other appliances, all immaculately clean. For a moment, he wondered if that was because Whiskey ordered out more than he cooked, but then he saw the bags of takeout on the counter and immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, looks like I interrupted your dinner plans.”

Whiskey closed and locked the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the nearby hook. He glanced over at the takeout, then put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I just told her something came up. You hungry? I ordered her Drunken Noodles, be a shame to put them to waste.”

Frankie was about to decline when his stomach rumbled, and Whiskey chuckled.

“C’mon, Flyboy, go sit down on the couch and I’ll bring the food and some whiskey round.”

With a nod, he toed his dress shoes off (they were all he had without his go bag) and made for the brown leather couch. He sat down a bit stiffly, feeling awkward given the circumstances. Whiskey brought over the containers of food, handing one to Frankie and resting his own on the coffee table before grabbing them the promised drinks. He sat down, and Frankie took his drink in one hand, relishing in the smooth burn as he took a sip, then set it down to dive into his food.

They ate in a relaxed and cozy silence. Frankie finished first, which wasn’t a surprise. When Whiskey finished, he took Frankie’s empty container with him to toss in the garbage before he made his way back. An awkward silence replaced the previous comfortable one, and Frankie found himself having a hard time pulling his gaze from the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey took a deep breath, then turned on the couch to face Frankie.

“Santiago said you’ve been clean for three years? That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Yeah, thanks. Doesn’t really feel like it right now. I feel like I failed. I’m worried I’ll slip up.”

“I don’t think you will, Frankie. Neither do Pope or Bourbon.”

Jack didn’t know why, but the words rang true in his mind, even though he hadn’t known Frankie for very long.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to throw three years of hard work away, Flyboy.”

A small smile tugged at Frankie’s lips and he took a sip from his glass.

“Must’ve been weird for Halcón. Last time she saw me, fuck, I was barely with it. The suspension hit me hard. I had been getting my shit together before Colombia and the funeral. I just wanted to be able to fly. I couldn’t and still can’t stand the idea of being grounded. That, and I knew my fianceé would leave me if I didn’t get it together. But then, well, we all went to Colombia.”

“I couldn’t imagine being grounded. I don’t fly often, but to not have the option? I dunno what I’d do.”

Whiskey shook his head and grimaced. Frankie perked up, head snapping to meet Whiskey’s gaze.

“You fly?”

“Mmmhmm, was in the Air Force for a bit, did jets. Statesmen has an F-22, the Silver Pony, that I fly.”

A small buzz of excitement was washing over Frankie, and he subconsciously scooted closer to Whiskey. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to about flying, even if helicopters and jets were two very different means of flying.

“What made you risk it, Flyboy? What happened in Colombia?”

Frankie frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“Pope had been down there for a few years, chasing a narco named Gabriel Martín Lorea. He finally got a break when his CI told him she knew where he was hiding out and where he was stashing his money. He showed up outta the blue asking us, our old team, to come down and do recon, $17k just for a week of recon. If we wanted to stay on after that, we’d be entitled to 25% of whatever we seized, and the rumour was that Lorea had $75M on him. I’m guessing Halcón was busy with a mission for you guys, and I’m glad she was. It ended up being a fucking shitshow.”

Whiskey noted the faraway look in Frankie’s eyes as he sighed and took another swig from his glass, shaking his head as Frankie recalled the events.

“After the recon, Pope said he thought we could do the job ourselves, take all the money and not tell the local governments. We found out that the local agency hadn’t been the ones to pay us the $17k. That had come out of Pope’s pocket. He was so sure that the locals were on Lorea’s payroll, and if he went to the local agency, Lorea would disappear with the money. At the end of the day, none of us could say no. Turned out the rumors of Lorea having $75M were wrong. The house was stuffed, literally, with cash. Tom, our captain, got greedy. He ignored our hard-out time and insisted we take more loads of cash. We ended up stealing close to $250M, then we burned the house down.”

Whiskey whistled. “$250M is a lot of money, partner…”

Frankie barked out a humorless laugh, his eyes rueful.

“Too much. Our helo couldn’t take it all and make it over the Andes. I knew it before take off, and I warned Tom and Pope, but all any of us could see was the money. Tom didn’t want to leave it on the runway. I almost had us over the Andes when a gearbox blew, and I had to get us back to flat. We had to cut the money net, and it was just our luck that it happened to be over a coke farm. It was a bad landing. I honestly don’t know how none of us were seriously injured, but Pope and Tom went to go and convince the farmers to get out of the money. Our comms were out, so we were going off of hand signals. Tom got too trigger happy, and he dropped a few of the villagers. I-I provided cover fire, too…”

Frankie hung his head, no matter how much Will, Benny, or Pope had tried to reassure him, he still held an enormous amount of guilt over what had happened. He felt Whiskey’s hand rest on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch.

“That’s what you were trained to do, Flyboy. You couldn’t have known any different, especially without comms.”

Frankie nodded, taking a large gulp of his whiskey, then continued on.

“A couple days later, we took fire in the mountains, and they got Tom. It ended up being a kid and another guy from the coke farm. We killed them, but there was nothing we could do for Tom. Headshot, he died instantly. 10 years we all served together, and then he was gone, leaving behind an ex and two daughters. It could have been any one of us though, Jack… we all took lives during that mission. Tom just took the wrong ones. It… it could have been me even, I shot some of those villagers, too.”

Frankie felt Whiskey’s grip on his shoulder tighten and looked up to see the empathetic sadness of someone who truly understood how he felt reflected back in Whiskey’s eyes. Frankie cleared his throat.

“We ended up bailing on a lot of the cash, taking only what we could carry in our daypacks and tossing the rest in a ravine so we could haul Tom’s body out with us. At the end of it, we made out with around $5M, but we all agreed it should go to Tom’s family. I got back to find my fianceé had left. She couldn’t stand my leaving with Pope. Looking back, my addiction is probably what really did us in, but I was devastated to come home to an empty house after everything that had happened. Things got… dark after that. I fell back on old habits, fuck, I had barely been clean a few months when we went to Colombia. I didn’t want to think about what we’d done there, didn’t want to feel the emptiness, didn’t want to sleep and deal with the nightmares. I was a mess, and I… uh, I took too much one day. Pope found me unconscious, lying on the ground, and got me to the hospital. When I came to, I realized I didn’t want to end up dead in my shitty apartment, once they discharged me, I checked into rehab.”

Frankie took another drink. No one other than Pope knew that knocking on death’s door had been the turning point for him. Whiskey chewed on his lip, taking a drink and debating whether he should share his past as well.

“Drugs are… a terrible thing to get hooked on. My high school sweetheart, carrying my unborn son, was murdered by two meth head freaks robbing a fucking convenience store. I was on leave from the Air Force, waiting for them to come home when I got the call. I didn’t realize how much it festered in me until about a year back when we were taking down the Golden Circle.”

Frankie nodded. He remembered that he had been glad he was clean by then.

“I’m sorry, Whiskey… I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have-”

Jack’s hand moved from Frankie’s shoulder to rub his back reassuringly.

“Listen, the things you’ve done and seen for our country… and not, well, it’s a lot, and I know it’s not the same as the freaks who… it’s not the same. I almost sabotaged the mission. My hate-addled brain thought it would be justice… It was Bourbon who very literally knocked me on my ass and kept me from making a decision I’d regret. She encouraged me to see a Statesmen counselor, which has been a lot of work, but has been more helpful than I ever thought it would be. Have you thought about that?”

Frankie was distracted for a moment by Jack’s hand. It felt nice, reassuring, safe, things that had been sorely lacking for him today.

“I have and I did, well, I had to as part of the program, and I kept it up for a bit after. It helped, but… I couldn’t really talk about what happened with Tom. Sure there’s confidentiality and all that, but what we did is all kinds of illegal. I couldn’t exactly bring that to a session or group.”

Frankie snorted, a ghost of a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth.

“Really though, aside from the program I was in after rehab to get my license back, I’ve gotten some hobbies and some other out-outlets. This was just a lot. I needed to not be alone.”

Jack cocked his head at the way Frankie stuttered and subconsciously fidgeted with the bandage on his right wrist. He had picked up from the night prior that Frankie had a thing for pain, and Frankie’s reaction when he had bandaged him up was further proof of that. But using it as his sole outlet or method of working through his issues was something he wouldn’t enable. His eyes narrowed, and before Frankie could blink, Jack snatched his left hand, mindful of the tender marks as he held fast and fixed Frankie with a hard stare. Frankie flinched at the sudden movement then his eyes widened a little.

“You know this ain’t a solution, Flyboy.”

Jack’s voice had an edge to it bordering on a growl. Frankie shook his head quickly.

“Shit, no, Whiskey, the i-impact p-play stuff, i-it’s an outlet, and it’s not my only outlet. I met my old partners, Sam and then later on her husband, a year and a half or two years ago. I was a year clean before I even had my first session with either of them. I met Sam when she booked a flight tour, and one thing led to another… She’d come back into town and sometimes her husband would come with, but we all kept everything pretty quiet. They helped me relax, and they had their fun.”

Frankie was doing his best to be nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jack’s tone had thrown him off guard, unexpectedly stirring something in him. Whiskey, of course noticed on both counts, having been trained to do so. He could see through Frankie a mile away. Frankie nervously took another sip from his glass, shuddering as Whiskey’s thumb gingerly rubbed circles over the marks, seemingly accepting his explanation.

“You know, had I known about your… interests, I would have done things a bit differently last night, Flyboy.” He winked at Frankie, then smirked as he examined Frankie’s wrist more thoughtfully. “How are they doing?”

“G-good, thanks. And uh, well, you’re one of 3 people who know.” Frankie murmured.

Whiskey’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he nodded and released Frankie’s hand.

“Really? Not Pope or Bourbon?”

“Are you kidding me? Pope would never let me hear the end of it. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.” Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “And Halcón? Well, there was never any reason for her to know. We never did anything together before last night.”

“How long has it been since you last saw Sam or her husband?”

Frankie downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes far away for a moment, remembering their last session, the sharp pain followed by a rush of endorphins and the occasional soothing praise. He shook his head gently, blinking himself out of his memories at the feeling of Jack’s warm hand on his knee.

“It’s been a while, six months? They moved overseas.”

There was a beat of silence, Whiskey could sense there was something up, it was a subtle shadow flitting across Frankie’s face. He decided to push a little more.

“Did you have feelings for them?”

“It was complicated.”

The edge in Frankie’s voice was tinged with pain, and he tried to cover it up with a laugh that came out humorless.

“I guess it isn’t that complicated. After six months, things shifted, and they made it clear I wasn’t part of their long term plan. It became very transactional, which was fine, but there was less and less... care after.”

“Oh.”

The response slipped from Jack’s lips, and he was momentarily stunned quiet before his temper began to flare. His index finger and thumb gently gripped Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen carefully, Flyboy. What I did last night was the bare minimum of what someone should do in that kind of situation. Anything less is negligent. Christ, how was this ever stress relief for you if you were left to free fall afterwards?”

Whiskey’s voice was calm and even, but Frankie could see the fury raging in his eyes. Sensing Whiskey’s desire for understanding, he nodded then shrugged.

“I guess I’d try to go on a hike with one of the guys or go train at the gym.”

Silence fell between them, a muscle in Whiskey’s jaw clenching before he glanced at the clock and let out a deep sigh, willing himself to calm down.

“It’s already just about midnight, Flyboy. Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll put on a clean bandage for you once you’re done. You can use my bathroom. There’s a clean towel hanging you can use. Don’t worry about clothes, I’ll leave something for you to sleep in on my bed so you can change while I set up the guest room for you.”

Frankie was about to protest, saying he could do his own bandages, but Whiskey fixed him with a stare and shook his head.

“Go on Flyboy, get yourself in the shower. Head down the hall, second door on the left. Your room is across the hall. I’ll be waiting there with the medkit when you’re done.”

Whiskey took Frankie’s empty glass and stood, taking their glasses to the sink while Frankie got up and made his way to the shower. A pensive frown tugged at Whiskey’s lips. Tonight certainly explained a lot of things. The sharp fury that permeated Whiskey’s chest when they were talking about Frankie’s previous partners returned. How could someone not be bothered with aftercare? It was also clear that Frankie felt abandoned by them. On some level, the poor man was probably terrified of that happening again, if he even entertained the thought of something between the three of you. Whiskey waited a few moments until he heard the water running before heading into his room. He let out a sigh as he grabbed a white t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts for Frankie to wear, leaving them on the bed before he left to make sure the guest room was all set.

Frankie undressed quickly, folding his clothes and setting them down on the vanity in a neat pile crowned with his hat. Next, he made quick work of unwrapping the bandage around his wrist and tossing the materials in the garbage. He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shower and the hot water scoured the last two days from his skin. The relief was quickly replaced with a small whine of pain as the water hit his wrist. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with his forearm he breathed through the pain, acclimating to the sensation. Frankie took a minute to just exist, trying to enjoy the quiet that had slowly crept back into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he set to work getting himself clean. The steam made the air thick and heavy with the scent of Whiskey’s soap, something akin to leather and tobacco leaves. It clung to Frankie’s lungs, and he could have stayed there enjoying it for considerably longer. But, he didn’t want to keep Whiskey waiting, so he rinsed off and hopped out of the shower. He toweled off, smirking to himself when he saw it was monogrammed (because of course it was), then headed out and changed quickly into the shirt and shorts that had been left for him.

Whiskey looked up in time to see Frankie stride through the doorway wearing his shirt and shorts, smelling like him, his soap. He swallowed thickly and tried to recover with a smile.

“Feel better, Flyboy? C’mon, sit down. Let’s have a look.”

Frankie nodded, then took a seat next to Whiskey on the bed and gave him his right hand. Whiskey hummed his approval at the lack of resistance from Frankie, something the pilot felt tug at his chest.

“This is looking much better, Flyboy, should be completely healed in a few days.”

Whiskey smiled as he finished tending to and wrapping up Frankie’s wrist. Without prompting, Frankie offered his other wrist and Whiskey couldn’t bite back the smirk that followed. He was glad though, glad that Frankie was trusting him with this and was embracing these moments, even if it was for something small. Frankie’s left wrist was considerably better off, but even so, Whiskey was still gentle as he looked him over.

Frankie’s heart fluttered at the intimacy of what was happening. Here was Jack, a man he’d known for barely 48 hours, who was taking care of him, who had dropped everything to come get him, who had spent his evening letting Frankie talk. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him this way.

There was an overwhelming urge building in his chest, and without thinking, he acted on it.

He gripped the collar of Whiskey’s t-shirt with one hand, tugging him closer as Frankie leaned in and kissed him. Whiskey was shocked for a moment, it had been the last thing he had been expecting, but he quickly recovered when he felt Frankie’s tongue swipe at his lip. His hand rested along the column of Frankie’s throat, thumb grazing over the scruff along his jaw as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Frankie and tasting him.

A small moan pulled Jack back to his senses, resting his forehead against Frankie’s and cupping his jaw with this other hand. They both panted, trying to catch their breath, and Whiskey smiled as he gave Frankie another quick kiss. For a moment, Frankie was worried he had overstepped when Whiskey cut off their kiss, but looking into the other man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’ve had a long day, Flyboy, we’re not gonna do anything tonight. Tomorrow though, if you want, I could help you get rid of some of that stress and help you come down the right way. No rush, no pressure, you can say no and nothing changes. I don’t want an answer right now either, sleep on it.”

Frankie’s breath quickened and his pupils dilated at the thought, but one thing nagged at him.

“What about Halcón?”

Whiskey chuckled and patted Frankie’s shoulder.

“Well it’s what we both want, in a manner of speaking. She’d be onboard, but she doesn’t have to know exactly what we do for now unless you’re comfortable with it. A lot of this is stuff I know she wants to go over on Friday, but for now, when it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it, partner. If you want to do this tomorrow, then we can do it. If not, no harm, no foul, you’re still welcome to stay here and keep me company.”

Frankie nodded, still processing what Whiskey had said and more than a little surprised that Whiskey was inviting him back regardless of his decision. Whiskey stood up then, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder.

“G’night, Flyboy. Holler if you need anything.”

Frankie was back in Colombia. He felt sluggish, his feet refusing to respond the way he wanted them to. He saw the villager from the cocaine farm pop up from the rocky outcrop, but Frankie couldn’t move, couldn’t draw his gun to take him out. He cried out in anguish as the man fired.

“No! Tom!”

Then he was surrounded by Pope, Benny, Will, you, and Whiskey, statuesque as the man who killed Tom lined up and dropped Pope, moving his way down the line. Frankie was sobbing now, he was being swallowed up by the ground, sinking helplessly as the people he cared for were murdered.

Whiskey woke with a start to the sound of shouting.

Ripping the sheet and comforter off, Whiskey glanced at the clock. It read 01:30 and he sighed. Frankie just couldn’t catch a break.

“P-please, No! Po-Pope, God, n-no, Hal-Halcón! Whiskey!”

He really didn’t want to shake Frankie awake, worried as to how he might react waking up from that sort of dream, but Jack had to do something.

“Hey, Frankie, I’m right here, you gotta wake up. Wake up, Flyboy.”

Frankie shot up, feeling like ice water had been poured down his spine. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, but once again, Whiskey’s soothing words served to ground him, and he clung to them with all he had. He felt Whiskey pull him into a hug, and Frankie didn’t care about the awkward angle, he clung to the embrace as well.

Whiskey’s heart ached at the way Frankie clutched at him after hearing him call out Pope’s, his, and your names. He had a vague idea of what might have happened, he still had dreams where he couldn’t save his loved ones every now and then. Once Frankie’s breathing calmed a bit, Whiskey tugged him up out of bed.

“C’mon Flyboy, you’re coming with me.”

Frankie didn’t argue, he just followed, grateful that Whiskey was pulling him by his hand, needing that point of contact. Whiskey pulled back the covers on the side opposite of his and waited until Frankie crawled in before he pulled the covers over him, then slid in on his side of the bed. He scooted a bit closer, not wanting to crowd Frankie unless he wanted the contact, and was pleased when the other man scooted back until his back rested against Jack’s chest.

“Get some sleep, Flyboy. I’ve got you.”

Sooner than he expected, Whiskey heard soft snores coming from Frankie. He smiled then wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs & comments are much appreciated!

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[sukunarii]

Fragile

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader Type: 1000 years ago Wordcount: 1.4k Summary: Humans are foolish. They’re weak. They’re fragile. If they did not love so easily, then there is no reason for them to break so easily. Sukuna does not understand them.

       "Humans are fragile creatures, you know?"

       The first time Sukuna heard this, he snickered. Him, the great King of Curses, known to bring plague across the land, devastate villages into rubbles, the monster whom mothers warn their children about at night, Sukuna knows this better than anyone. Humans are fragile. Threaten them a little, scare them a little, and they are already broken. Some die before Sukuna even touches them, scared, and panic-induced heart attacks. How laughable. And don't even let him start on how easy it is to snap their necks, or slice those measly little humans into pieces. Maybe even the word fragile overestimates them. Weak. That's more like it.

       "Weak and fragility are different things, Sukuna. Being fragile isn't a weakness. It's part of what makes you-- and me, human."

       Sukuna stared at the girl, perplexed. Being fragile is being weak. And being weak is what he views humans as. He himself isn't one of them, he is the King of Curses, and most definitely not to be grouped with those weak little human beings.

       "You're saying nonsense as usual," he brushed the girl off.

       "Hmmm if you think so," the girl hummed, "I think you just don't understand yet."

       A sudden unexplained rage rises up in him. Maybe it's her tone. Maybe the words just rubbed him the wrong way. One doesn't need a reason to be angry when he holds so much power, he only needs to decide to act or not. And he did. Head cocked up, he grabs the girl by her collar and lifts her upwards. Dangling her slightly above the reach of her feet. She barely struggled.

       "What are you trying to say? What do I not understand?", he asked her menacingly.

       The girl remained calm, inhumanly calm. Unlike the ones who would scream, who would start begging, instead, she looked back at him expressionless. Possessed is what the people in the village would call her. But no, she was as human as the rest of them. She just was not scared. She was not scared of Sukuna.

       "If you're angry then kill me."

       Sukuna pursed his lips tightly into a straight line. Lately, Sukuna can barely remember why he spared her the first time. The reasons are long lost. All he can say was perhaps, he found her intriguing. She was an odd specimen. And maybe a bit of her resonated with him. And for the second time, he spared her again.

       "Tch, I'm not human. Don't insult me."

       "The now, widow, cried and cried. For days, she refused to eat nor drink anything, the death of her husband is still a fresh wound in her heart. It became too great for her to bear and eventually the woman succumbed to it and joined her husband," the girl finished her story and looked at Sukuna for approval.

       Instead, she was faced with an uninterest look.

       "How foolish, to die for such petty reasons."

       "It's romantic," the girl objected.

       "Romantic?"

       "Yeah, she died because she loved him too much."

       "Love. If there is no love then there is no sorrow. And therefore, love is ludicrous."

       The girl chuckled, "Have you never loved someone, Sukuna?"

       Sukuna looked disgusted.

       "I suppose if you've never felt it, then it's hard to understand it. But when you love someone, you will not be angry at the little faults they make. Even if you think you are right, you will be willing to look aside. You don't ever want to see them injured or hurt. You want the best for them. You will be more hurt than any physical wounds feels if they wrong you. Because you just want to be with them and hold them so tight to never let go."

       Sukuna did not understand. He did not think of anyone like this. The only thought on his mind is that this notion of love is ridiculous. And is what makes humans weak.

————-

       She came back with the merchandise she purchased at the village. But that was not all she came back with. She came back with a scraped knee.

       Sukuna inspects her.

       "What happened?", he asks her.

       "The road on the village was uneven, so I tripped," she laughs sheepishly.

       "Which village?", he asks her.

       "The one under the mountain."

       Sukuna gets up from his seat and walks towards the entrance of their hideout.

       "Where are you going?", the girl asks him.

       "Make them pay.", he says.

       Panic. The girl rarely panics. But she dropped her basket and turns to chase after him. She grabbed one of his many arms. Holds him in his spot.

       "Please don't Sukuna. It's not their fault."

       Sukuna shakes her grip off. And left. The girl tried to chase him, but for he was a powerful curse and her, a mere human. She could not catch up. All that she was left to do was to call out for his name, begging for him to return and spare the people there.

       It was raining when he returned. But the rain did not wash off the blood on his hands. He seemed content. Satisfied with himself. The King of Curses has once more showed another village why he was known as such. 

       She was crying when he returned. The blood on his hands made her feel even more distressed. Sad with herself. The human heart is fragile and to know that she caused the death of hundreds of people, it really was unbearable.

       "Why did you do it?", she asked quietly.

       "You're injured cause of them."

       "That's barely a reason," she firesback.

       "I did it for you (Y/N)."

       "Don't tell me you did it for me, I never asked you to."

       "Those love stories you always talk about, that's how you show love, right?", Sukuna tried. This is the first time he admitted outloud what he theorized about. Maybe the reason he spared her was because he loves her. No he still doesn't understand the stories (Y/N) tells but what he did seems to be in line with it. Or so he thought.

       "Right. You did this for yourself," she says seethed. And then stormed off. Into the rain. Sukuna stood there, flabbergasted. Annoyed. Angry even. For he did not understand her lash out.  If destroying a village because the girl that keeps him company tripped because of their uneven road isn't love, then what is?

       Humans are so fragile. To be hurt from knowing people died because of them.  

       She was plagued by guilt. The huts, the stalls -- everything destroyed. The rain has stopped. And a thick mist overwashed the remains of the village. For once she was grateful, she didn't think she could take seeing corpses. By then, the tears has also dried up. And she wondered, if she is at fault for the death of these people. But her thoughts were interrupted by hurried footsteps. And shouting.

       "There she is! She must be the witch who called the curse, get her!"

       When Sukuna found her, she was on the brim of death. He has killed the people who stabbed her with a knife to execute the "witch". Not that he will tell her. He doesn't want to harm her anymore.

       "Sukuna......you came," she whispered.

       "Of course I did," he replied back.

       He laid her down on a meadow. The smell of the fresh rain powers over the smell of blood on her, and peacefully, her head on his laps, he brushes a hair strand away from her face.

       "I'm sorry," he finally said.

       Never did he think he would say this to anyone. But there is always an exception.

       She smiled, "It's ok. I forgive you...."

       And another first for him, Sukuna chokes out, "Please, don't die (Y/N), don't leave me."

       "I don't want to either....but I guess it's my fault for being so weak," she chuckles bitterly.

       "It's not weak. It's fragile. Humans are fragile creatures," he reminded you. And maybe he really did believe his words.

       "I knew you would understand this," she smiled at him, "and I guess you finally understand what it means when I say, Sukuna, I love you."

       And he did. Because when there is love. There is sorrow when it is lost.

       "I love you too."

Humans are fragile creatures. To be hurt by something so foolish. And maybe, Sukuna is one of them too.

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

How about a headcanon of what does MC and the brothers do togheter other than the typical dating stuff(going on dates,cuddling,...). Like, I imagine my MC and Lucifer just painting togheter in front of the fireplace,listening to classical music,drinking wine and chillin.

Hmmmmm, I do have a headcanon on Things You Do Behind Closed Doors which actually portrays exactly things you guys may do while alone, though in there some do involve cuddling seeing many of the demons are so snuggable 🤭.

But this has given me an idea for something quite a bit different! So I hope you will like it!

.

One of Many Shenanigans You May Do With The Brothers

.

Lucifer

Classic

Do you enjoy classical music? Do you wish you could play a fancy instrument? Do you get off on Lucifer's teacher mode? Well, I present you: Instrument lessons with your one and only Avatar of Pride.

Is he being touchy with you on purpose or is he actually being a responsable adult and actually helping you? Does he actually think you made progress or is he that much of a simp his standards have dropped lower than him and his brothers after the fall?

Honestly? Once you catch the sight of that twinkle in his eyes as he happily rambles almost like a certain otaku about classical music and almost forgets the original purpose of you guys being in the music room, I don't think any of that will matter.

.

Mammon

x² + (y - ∛x² )² = 1

Do you hate math with every single inch of your body and will rather fail a math class than to deal with a math problem but you love Mammon all the same and would do anything and everything just to see him smile?

Then get ready because now he is your math study budy and he doesn't take refunds.

Seriously, you will never be able to understand how numbers work better than when you study together with this man.

Investment? In real life it may be a disaster but on paper he can find the answer in a blink of an eye. Find the X? Just make it involve money and suddenly he not only finds the X but also complains about how the entire problem is way too unrealistic.

He totally doesn't realise he was now sitting pretty close to you, you should definetelly take this chance to peck his cheek.

.

Leviathan

They're Not Just Cheesy, They're Cheesier.

You know that one moment when you go to a party and you sit down somewhere away from the people but there is no internet therefore nothing for you to do but suffer?

Only Leviathan is now there by your side and he has a pen! And some paper!

For anyone on the outside it will look like two love birds exchanging small love messages to each other.

But if anyone came closer enough to see what was actually being written on the paper, all they would see would be a mess of lines, numbers and even some kaomojis as you guys have an intense battle of connect four and tic tac toe.

It's romantic.

.

Satan

I Hope You Like Storms

One of the worst problems of highly intelligent people is how sometimes their brain munches on more information than it can swallow, leading to their entire brain process getting choked. That's why some good ol' brainstorming is extremelly appreciated, that way they can just puke it all out and finally be able to sort through all the information.

So yes, I hope you like storms, because you are now Satan's brainstorming buddy.

Specially when he needs to sort out his feelings and some decisions, he just straight up searches for you and if he can't find you he will just shoot you a message.

You guys can spend entire hours just laying down several ideas and opinions. Most of the time you guys won't even come to a concrete answer, but it really helps him, and he hopes it helps you too.

.

Asmodeus

Is It a Mom Thing?

I don't know about you but if there is one thing I have been doing my entire life with my mother is go shopping for clothes and spending hours going back and forth in the changing rooms trying out different outfits, being way too loud and definetelly taking pictures which was explicitly written on the walls not to do.

See the Asmo energy of that?

You gyus would definetelly cause some chaos in Majolish as you guys basically turn the changing rooms into a damn fashion show, there are laughs and some screaming to "help me with the zipper" and he definetelly strikes up a conversation with the other demons also wandering in the changing rooms.

Do you guys buy everything you try? Theres a high chance all you guys will do is exactly that, try it out, and never buy it. But damn if the Lust Avatar's presence in the store doesn't already boost their sales, so the workers deal with having to put all the clothes back in place.

.

Beelzebub

I May Not be Able To Carry it For You, But I Can Carry You.

Tired of walking? Do you just wish you were able to teleport to places even on days you haven't moved your leg muscles more than to walk to the kitchen and back to your bed?

Fret no more!

The Avatar of Gluttony, one of the seven most powerful demons in the Devildom was made just for you!

Build in with broad enough shoulders for you to sit comfortably on, strong enough arms to carry you around and a soft and caring personality that will worry and help you with your needs, this ginger haired demon will gladly carry you around to wherever you wish only with the promise of food, kisses and you making sure to take care of yourself!

Participate now in the RAD's new Exchange Student Program to get your own for only the price of 5 demon shaped stress fuels that you will need to sit down and have a teraphy session with and get yourself killed-

.

Belphegor

From Nowhere

When it exactly started happening is hard to pin point, but at somehow, you will often find yourself staring Belphie dead in the eyes as he stares right back at yours.

There is absolutely no meaning and you guys have absolutely nothing else to do, you can be anywhere in any position, laying down, on the same table, standing up, it will just happen.

Your eyes will sting but you will not blink until he does first.

Faces and smirks will be exchanged, you guys are basically dead to the reality around you until either of you blink or Belphie gets tired and blows air into your eyes.

"I win"

He didn't win shit.

Random staring contests can be romantic I guess.

[coltsbitch]

small world ~ colt grice x reader

colt grice x reader; 3.7k words; nsfw summary: colt didn’t purposely sleep with falco’s teacher

masterlist

Colt is a responsible person. He’s caring, polite, never late. All the qualities of a good person.

He is not the type of person to fuck his younger brother’s third grade teacher.

But let’s back track to that night.

Colt had finally given into Porco’s insistent pestering, who had even roped Reiner in to watching Falco for the night and let himself be dragged to a bar.

“Alright, who’s the prey for tonight?”

Colt grimaces, “I thought we were here to drink.”

Porco slaps a hand on Colt’s back, “How long has it been since you got laid?”

Colt rolls his eyes, and shrugs off Porco’s hand, “Kind of hard when you have custody of a nine-year-old.”

“Pokko, leave Colt alone.” Pieck sets down the drinks she retrieved from the bar, “We’re just happy you could come out tonight.”

“Thanks, Pieck.” It had been a rough year and a half for the Grice brothers, losing both their parents in one night and Colt having to drastically shift his life in order to care for Falco. Not that he’s bitter about, would give his life for Falco if he had to, but doesn’t make it any easier.

“But if you are looking for someone, I have a couple friends I could set you up with?”

Colt groans, dropping his head into his hand.

“Babe, he doesn’t need a relationship, he needs a fuck.”

Pieck raises her brow, “And what do you have against relationships, Porco?”

Porco’s eyes widen hearing his full name come from Pieck’s mouth, “Nothing! Nothing babe!” He pulls her into his lap, “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Pieck scoffs before returning her attention to Colt, “So what’s new?”

The three spend the next couple hours catching up, Colt filling them on Falco, Porco making lewd jokes, and Pieck reprimanding him with swats to his head.

By Colt’s third drink Pieck’s eyes are dropping and she’s practically asleep on Porco’s shoulder, who’s trying to shake her awake.

“Such a light wight.” Porco is muttering, but there’s a lace of affection, “You don’t mind if we head out?”

Colt waves him off, “I’ll probably finish this last one and then get home too.”

Porco nods, “Let me know when you get home.” Colt smiles at his friend who underneath many layers of roughness, is truly a caring guy.

Colt watches as Porco practically carries Pieck out the door. He picks at the label on his bottle, wondering if Falco is asleep by now or if Reiner indulged him with too many sweets and might still be bouncing off the walls.

Colt downs the rest of his drink and moves to stand but is interrupted from his thoughts when someone slides into booth across from him.

“You get ditched too?”

Colt freezes, “I, what?”

You crinkle you nose, “Sorry, that’s probably weird. I just saw your friends leave and thought, that’s something we have in common.”

Colt doesn’t answer, can’t answer. Because here sitting in front of him is this gorgeous woman who quite literally came out of nowhere. And maybe it’s the alcohol making his eyesight fuzzy around the edges, but you look like a goddess with the neon lights of the bar hanging over you.

You bite your lip, hoping to still salvage this, “I’m ___.” You extend your hand, glad to see he is at least able to shake it back.

“I’m Colt. Sorry.” He shakes his head, “Just wasn’t expecting anyone else.” He gives an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “Umm, so your friends left you?”

You settle into the booth, “Yeah. It was supposed to be my post break up girl’s night, but they all quickly found someone else to spend it with.”

“Sorry about the breakup?”

You wave your hand, “I’m over it. Cheating bastard wasn’t worth my time anyway. But what about you? You part of the lonely hearts club too?”

Colt laughs, “No, I mean, I guess I am. But it’s just been a rough year.”

You hum, and Colt’s thankful you don’t press further, not wanting to unload on the first pretty girl who’s looked his way in the last year, “Let me buy you a drink?”

Colt opens his mouth to politely decline, thinking about Reiner who’s waiting at his apartment for him to get back. But there’s something about the small smile on your face and shinning eyes that has him following you to the bar where you order two beers for each of you.

Now Colt will be honest, he knows he’s pretty helpless when it comes to flirting. Never quite sure what to say or how to say it. He’s watched his friends for years, even tried to get lessons from Zeke when he was in high school, but it’s all been for naught.

So with the way you’re laughing at all his jokes, even the one he knows aren’t that funny, and your knee that keeps knocking into his, or how you’ll accidentally place your hand on top of his before quickly pulling back.

There’s no way this is all in his head.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom really quick. You’re not going to bail on me, are you?”

“I’ll be right here when you get back.” Colt smiles. You bite your lip giving him a once over, causing Colt to flush under your gaze.

You nod and walk in the direction of the restrooms, and Colt throws a glance over his shoulder, seeing that you’re already looking at him as you push the door open.

What the fuck is he doing?

Colt needs to get home. He needs to prep Falco’s lunch for tomorrow, the laundry needs to be moved to the dryer, double check Falco’s homework, not to mention finish that project his supervisor has been hounding him for at work.

But Colt glances over his shoulder again and sees you still haven’t left the bathroom.

Fuck. Is he going to do this? That was a clear signal, right?

Colt flexes his hands a couple times before standing from his seat and making his way to the restrooms. It’s in a dark corner of the bar, and he double checks that no one is looking before pushing open the door.

You’re standing there with your arms crossed leaning against the sink. Your head pops up at the sound of the door opening and a grin splits out onto your face.

“Fuck.” You say, “I wasn’t sure if I was being obvious enough.”

Colt stands awkwardly, “I’m glad I wasn’t misreading it.”

You grab Colt’s hand and pull him into one of the stalls, locking the door behind you.

“What if we get caught?” Colt whispers.

You shrug, “I guess we’ll have to be quick.” You chew on your lip watching Colt process your words and the situation he’s found himself in.

He nods, face determined, looking like he’s about to enter a war or something. You giggle at his seriousness, threading your fingers through his belt loops and pulling him flush against your body.

Deciding the best way to move this along is to get right to it. Pressing your lips against his you wrap your arms around his waist, hands finding their way past his shirt, and you’re surprised to find the taught muscles that hide underneath.

Colt cups your cheeks and it’s sweet, the way he kisses you deeply. But that’s not why you seduced him into this grimy bathroom stall.

You sneak your hand down to his ass, gripping one cheek and giving it a tight squeeze, which earns you a desperate whimper and a sharp grind.

You let out a surprised laugh that turns into a moat when one of Colt’s hands lifts your leg around his hip and pins you against the stall. Colt pulls away to gasp and you use the opportunity to begin your assault on his neck.

He has to press his hand into the stall above you to ground himself, the kisses you trail along his neck not letting him think straight, but he needs to get this one thought out before he can continue anything.

“Wait, wait.” Colt puts a little distance between your bodies, “I don’t want you to think, I mean, I can’t commit to anything right now.”

You humor him with a smile, “Colt. I’m about to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom, I’m not looking for a proposal or anything.”

“Oh, okay. Good, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Colt’s cheeks darken, “Made out with someone I met thirty minutes ago? No.”

You run your hand down his chest, and back up behind his neck, “I hope we’ll end up doing more than just making out.”

“Umm, right.” Colt grunted, “Uh, do you have a condom?”

You smile and pick up your purse dropped at your feet, pulling out the latex square. Colt reaches to take it from your hand, but you pull your hand back, “Let me.”

Colt swallows and nods, watching as you reach down to his belt, undoing the buckle. You work your speedy hands, unzipping his pants and pushing down his underwear.

You glance up as you’re ripping open the package, but Colt isn’t looking at you. His eyes are transfixed on where your one hand is resting close to his newly exposed cock. Taking pity, you grasp his shaft, giving a firm tug.

Colt shudders and thrusts into your hand, “Please.” He whines.

You roll the condom down his cock, rolling your thumb over the head when it’s situated, before turning around to face the door.

A beat passes and you glance over your shoulder wondering what the holdup is.

Colt’s cheeks are a dark pink as he stares at you.

“Well?” You ask, pressing your ass into his crotch.

Colt grabs your hips to hold you still. He doesn’t want this to be over before you even have your pants off.

The two of you work together to lower your jeans, pushing them down to your knees. He traces the line of your panties with a delicate finger, captivated by the pretty lace.

“Maybe if you do a good job, I’ll let you keep them.” You tease.

Colt chokes on a laugh, realizing you caught him in his transfixed state. He pulls down the lace to bundle with your jeans and can’t help himself when he reaches around your hip and dips a finger into your folds.

You moan at the contact when he brushes against your clit that’s been ignored all night. You don’t have anything to grab onto as he spreads the wetness along your cunt, so you ball your hands into tight fists.

“So wet.” Colt praises in astonishment, “Barely touched you.” He pushes two fingers into your cunt and thickness has you curling your toes.

“C’mon.” You whine, “We’re running out of time.” You’re really just desperate for his damn cock to fill you up already, but you don’t want to beg.

“Fuck.” Colt mutters, as if realizing he can’t take his time like he wants to, like you deserve.

Pulling your hips back and pushing you down a little, Colt lines himself up. The heat radiating from your pussy makes his head spin a little. But he pushes himself in slowly, inch by inch. And you have to stand there and take it, the door in front of you making it impossible to escape.

He lets out a groan when he bottoms out, and you squirm as his balls brush against your clit.

Colt’s arm wraps around your stomach, pulling you up against him as starts to thrust shallowly.

One of your hand flies to his arm, nails digging in when he hits a spot deep in you. Still bracing yourself against the door you let you head fall forward trying to suppress a groan.

Colt shushes you, kissing the back of your neck, “Need to keep quiet, right?” You nod meeting his thrusts, a particularly sharp thrust making you clench and Colt moans into your hair.

“I thought we needed to be quiet.” You tease.

Colt has a snarky comment on his tongue but holds it back when the door opens, sound from the bar spilling in. You both freeze. It’s pretty obvious what’s happening if someone were to look under the crack of the door, but you’re also in the last stall.

Both of your hearts are beating loudly in your chests as the sounds of someone washing off spilled beer on their shirt reaches you.

“Quiet.” Colt whispers in your ear that has you nodding along. But the thrill of getting caught reignites the flame in your core and you can’t even stop your body from rolling back on his cock.

“Fuck.” You harshly mutter, eyes rolling into the back of your head. The feeling only amplified when Colt shoves his fingers in your mouth, the same fingers that were deep in your cunt, now covered in your cream that’s assaulting your senses.

Your muffled moans test Colt’s patience while he waits for the person to exit the bathroom. And the second he hears the door shut, he’s slamming into you with a speed and power you didn’t think the blushing man had in himself.

“Such a tease.” Colt gets out between clenched teeth, his hands sliding down your front to rub tight circles at your clit.

You squeak at the sensation, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer, clenching and spasming around his cock that has Colt tipping over the edge with you. But Colt doesn’t let up, thrusting through his orgasm and still playing with your clit.

“Colt!” You yelp, having to rip his hand away from your body, unable to withstand the stimulation any longer. But he grabs your hand and locks it against the bathroom stall while he gives you a few more hard thrusts.

You cry out, tears filling your eyes while he slows behind you. Colt presses a kiss to your cheek as he pulls out, and you miss the fullness. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. You can feel Colt behind you trying to situate himself. Even going as far to pull your pants up for you too.

You huff out a laugh at his chivalry, “What a gentleman.” You tease, buttoning your pants, “I guess you don’t want my panties then?” You ask over your shoulder.

Colt blushes, which warms your chest, as if he wasn’t just balls deep in you, “So it was good then?”

You turn to press a kiss to his cheek, “Yeah, you did good.”

“Good.” Colt nods, “Umm, it was for me too.”

You smile at his awkwardness, “Good. So, did you want to finish our drinks?”

Colt’s face drops, “I should probably get home, actually. But maybe,”

“No worries.” You wave him off, ignoring and not dwelling on why that disappoints you a little. You unlock the door and step out of the stall, glad to see you’re still alone.

Colt follows you out and looks like he wants to say more but decides against it, “Right. I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe.” You look over your shoulder at the door, “I’ll go out first?” Colt nods, “Okay, well. Thanks again, for everything.”

Colt smiles and you feel a little weak in the knees and like you could go for another round all over again. Readjusting your purse, you press a quick kiss to Colt’s lips before heading out the door, not looking back. And Colt isn’t surprised when he returns to the bar to see you’ve already left, but none the less slightly disappointed at the fact.

Colt manages to make it home just a little after midnight. He quietly opens and closes the door, praying not to wake anyone. Reiner is sitting in the on the couch watching a silent television.

“Falco asleep?” Colt whispers, toeing off his shoes and hanging his jacket on the hook.

Reiner nods and flips off the television, “Crashed a couple hours ago. He was trying to stay up until you got home, but just couldn’t do it.”

Colt feels a brief flash of guilt but shakes it away.

“Thanks again. I know Porco roped you into it, but thanks.” Colt isn’t good at accepting help from others, especially when it comes to Falco, but his friends usually don’t take no for an answer.

“Don’t worry about it.” Reiner waves him off, “You have fun tonight?”

Colt shrugs, “It was nice.”

Reiner gives a noncommittal hum, eyeing Colt as he pauses at the door, “Might want to wash the lipstick off your neck before getting into bed.” Colt chokes on nothing as Reiner’s shoulders shake with laughter, “See ya later.”

The rest of the weekend Colt tries and fails to push you from his thoughts. Yeah, he was the one who made it clear it was a one-time thing, and maybe it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in so long, but he’s really wishing he had at least asked for your phone number.

Monday morning he drives Falco to school, and he’s contemplating texting Porco about going to the same bar again this weekend, with the off chance you might be there again.

“Bye Colt!” Falco screams slamming the door. Colt winces at the sound, swearing one of these days that boy was going to break off the door. Out of habit he checks the back seat, and Colt has to repress a groan when he sees Falco left behind his superhero lunchbox.

Colt peers out the window to see Falco is already long gone, somewhere in the mess of children who are running around the playground for the few minutes they have before the bell rings.

He knows he’ll get a tearful phone call later if he doesn’t get the lunch box to Falco, so Colt resigns himself to being late to work and pulls into the parking lot.

Lunch box in hand Colt walks towards the playground, hoping that Falco will see him and make this detour faster than it needs to be. Colt is fiddling with the lock, making sure it’s secure which makes him walk straight into the playground monitor.

“Shit.” Colt mutters “Sorry, I wasn’t watching-” But the rest dies in his throat when he sees it’s you standing in the bright orange vest.

You’re just as surprised to see Colt standing in front of you. Thrown and honestly a little concerned as why the fuck he would be here at your elementary school.

“Colt?” You ask.

“Umm. Hi?”

You give him a once over, appreciating the button down and slacks he’s wearing today, also taking note of the children’s lunch box in his hands. A bit too old to be at this school, but also a little too young to have a child here, you think.

“Colt!” You both turn at the sound, and you realize it’s one of your sweetest students sprinting towards you, calling his name.

Falco comes to a halt, “Is that my lunch box?” He asks, grabbing it before Colt can even answer.

“You forgot it.” Colt is able to choke out, eyes jumping back and forth between you and Falco.

Falco follows his older brother’s eyes and realizes you’re standing with them. Somehow having missed the vibrant orange safety vest you have thrown around you shoulders, honestly making you a little self-conscious that this is what Colt is seeing you in after this weekend.

Not that you care what he thinks of you. You’re not looking for anything right now.

“Ms.___?” Falco pulls on your hand, “Do you know Colt?” You open your mouth, unsure how to respond, not like you could explain it to the nine-year-old.

“I’m Falco’s brother.” Colt sticks out his hand, which seems like an overkill to you since he’s literally been inside you.

“Oh.” You say, taking his hand, well aware of the Grice family situation. And your heart clenches at the thought, making a little bit more sense why he was so firm about letting you know Friday night was a onetime thing.

You’re spared from saying anything when the bell rings, signaling the start of school.

“Sounds like you better get to class.” Colt tells Falco.

Falco pouts, sad he wasted his last few minutes talking to his brother and teacher, “Okay.” But still takes the time to hug his brother, “Thanks for my lunch box!” Before sprinting towards the entrance.

You clear your throat, “Falco’s a good student.” Mentally face palming yourself for the awkward comment.

Colt’s eyes widen, “You’re Falco’s teacher?” You nod while Colt mutters out a curse, earning a giggle from you, “This is awkward, right?”

You nod, “A little.” You chew on your lip, unsure what to say, but realize most of the students have cleared out, and it’s probably not the best to leave your thirty students unsupervised for too long, “Well, I need to-”

“I know this-”

You both stop while the other tries to talk, quietly laughing. “You go.”

Colt rubs the back of his neck, “I know we both agreed to a one-time thing, but I think I’d hate myself if I didn’t ask for your number.”

Your mouth parts, “Oh.” And Colt flushes, “Umm.” You avert your eyes, “It’s just, your brother is in my class and I try not to mix personal life with work.” You stumble over your words.

Colt flushes further, “Right, sorry. That was rude of me to ask, especially here.” Colt glances at the ground.

You chew on your lip, still thinking it over. It’s not that you don’t want to see Colt again. But he is the guardian of one of your students and you just got out of long relationship, not looking to jump into another right away.

“Maybe I can get yours?” You offer, and Colt’s head shoots up, eyes a little wide, “I mean, incase Falco forgets his lunch again?” A small smile playing on your lips, holding your phone out.

“Right.” Colt agrees, typing his number in, “He’s very forgetful. And it’s not like he’ll be in your class forever.” Colt says but it comes across as a hopeful question.

You have to bite your cheek to keep from smiling too wide at his forwardness, accepting your phone back, “I’ll see you around Colt.”