#It finally clicked when i realised i was trying to hard to make them look like a real animal when theyre just meant to be a

[tawnysoup]

A new critter!!! I have finally figured out what the Bonster looks like.

They're some kind of frog creature with horns and tusks... or is it fluff?! Hard to tell. Their hat is really a big tail they can cook things in and also WHAP against the ground when they're mad!!!

They're slightly smaller than the other critters. Here's a Fritter for scale:

[giannaln4]

Wet Dream

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando had a wet dream and he needs to take care of it.  (1.7k words)

warnings: mdni, + 18, smut, masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, needy!lando

a/n: this might or might not be inspired solely by this picture. i'm not gonna lie, this is pure smut. i apologise in advance. also i'm sorry for the abrupt ending 😭 i never know how to finish these. anyway, please send some requests!

↺ back to navigation— send me a request!

The only thing that could be heard in your shared room were your moans, loud and desperate for a release. 

You were on top of Lando as he held onto your hips for dear life, his eyes closing as the overwhelming feeling of his incoming orgasm started to grow. 

“Are you close, baby?” He managed to spit out. He needed to make sure he didn’t come before you, so his thumb landed on your clit to bring you closer to the edge. Your moans were intensifying, and god, he loved the look on your face when you were about to come.

He opened his eyes and… nothing. Nothing but pure darkness. 

He looked down at his crotch, only to spot his painful cock making a tent under the blankets. His breathing was heavy, and he was sweating a lot. 

Fuck. 

He released the bedsheets he didn’t realise he was fisting and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. 

He looked next to him and spotted you there, peacefully sleeping and completely unaware of the dream he just had. 

He closed his eyes again, hoping he would be able to ignore his painful cock, but of course he couldn’t, because as soon as he closed his eyes, flashes of his wet dream and how undeniably beautiful you looked riding him came back to him. 

He took another deep breath as he opened his eyes, once again encountering the dark room. His hand was slowly sneaking down the blankets, and when he finally found his bulge, he gave it a hard squeeze for some relief. He let out an involuntary moan, not loud enough so that it would wake you up, but the room was so silent he thought it would. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it in, so instead of trying to relieve himself right next to you, he knew the right thing would be to go somewhere else and not disturb your sleep. 

He got up carefully and left the bed, looking back at you, before locking himself in the bathroom. 

He sat on the closed toilet, pulling down his boxers and finally freeing his aching member. He squeezed it again, and again, and again, before he started stroking it slowly. His grip was firm, and his groans were low as he finally gave it what it so desperately needed. 

Using his spit and the pre cum leaking from his tip, his strokes got faster, and Lando rolled up his shirt and trapped it between his teeth as he looked down at his hand, his mind trying to replace it with your pretty mouth. With that image in his mind, it got harder to contain his moans. 

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ 

You rolled over, expecting to find your boyfriend to cuddle, like you always did. Instead, all you found was an empty spot next to you. It was still warm, so you knew he hadn’t been gone for too long. 

You closed your eyes again, figuring he’d be back in just a moment, but you heard something that made you open them again. A loud breath that you thought could only mean something had happened. 

You got up immediately, worried as you made your way to the bathroom. But once you were close enough, it clicked. You finally understood what he was doing. 

You were about to turn around, go back to bed, and pretend like it never happened, figuring he needed some privacy to finish his business, but something between your legs was begging you to help him out and calm down whatever had gotten into him.

⋆｡° ✮ ⋆｡° ✮ 

He was being louder than he intended, but it felt so good he didn’t even realise. His shirt was still between his teeth and his eyes now squeezed shut as he tried to bring himself to a sweet release.

His mind was replaying his dream, echoes of both of your moans filling his ears and the vivid image of you on top of him, something he wished he could plaster in his eyelids, until he heard a knock on the door that made him stop what he was doing 

“You okay in there?” He heard you ask from the other side of the door. Shit. 

“Huh?” Was all he managed to say. 

“Can I come in?”

“No!” He was quick to reply, “I’ll be right out.”

He couldn’t help but be embarrassed, feeling like a teenage boy who was just caught getting off where he wasn’t supposed to. He was ready to just go back out and act like he wasn’t just jerking off to a dream he just had.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” You asked. You didn’t hear him say anything after that, and you instantly regretted interrupting him. Maybe that was something he needed to do alone. Maybe he needed a release but didn’t need… you. 

Those thoughts were interrupted when you heard shuffling inside, followed by footsteps that got louder as he got closer to the door. 

Lando opened it, his hair messy and his shirt wet from stuffing it in his mouth. “Yes, please,” he said with begging eyes. 

You crashed your lips into him, pulling him back to the bed. 

“I can’t believe you were doing that without me,” you said against his lips. 

“I didn’t wanna bother you.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap, hands falling on your hips as he brought you closer to him. 

You moaned when you felt his hard cock against you. “And keep this from me?” You asked as you moved your hips.

He bucked his hips involuntarily, the friction feeling delicious against your wet core. You kept moving on top of him as he discarded your sleeping garments, falling somewhere on the floor. You decided to do the same for him, getting rid of his shirt and running your hands up and down his muscles.

Neither of you could control the sounds that were falling from your lips, and yours only got louder when his right hand sneaked between your almost naked bodies to find your folds. He pushed one finger inside you, pumping vigorously.

“Mhm, already so wet for me,” he mumbled against your skin, his lips travelling down your neck.

“Couldn’t help it, it sounded like you were having fun in the bathroom,” you said, and you could feel a smirk creeping on his lips.

“Well, you drive me crazy even in my dreams.”

“Is that what happened?”

He hummed in response. “You should’ve seen how pretty you looked riding me.”

“Let’s make it come true then.” You pushed him on his back and got rid of his last piece of clothing, letting you see how needy his cock was. 

You admired him for a moment, and you could see him struggling to keep his hands to himself. When you finally decided you were ready, you started crawling to get on top of him, your hands landing on his bare chest.

“Ready?” 

“I’m always ready for you.” He replies, as sweet as ever. “Fuck, you’re so wet and beautiful,” Lando said, holding onto your hips as you began to get comfortable, both of your legs on either side of him. He gave your hips a hard squeeze as you got situated, just like in his dream.

You finally took his cock in your hand, stroking it slowly as you guided it to your dripping hole, a sigh of relief leaving your mouths when you sank down.

He groaned as his grip on your hips tightened when you lifted and sank back down onto him slowly.

“Feels good, baby?”

“So, so good.” His head fell back into the pillows when you rolled against him, and you couldn’t help but smile when he whimpered again. After a moment, he looked up at you. “Y/N?” He moaned your name, but it sounded more like a question.

You brushed a stray of his dark curls off his forehead. “Yeah?”

He let out another moan, his eyes falling to where you’re connected before meeting your eyes. “Faster, please.” And you listened, you began to ride him faster. “Just like that, baby,” Lando cried out.

You moaned as his dick spread you out. You began to bounce down faster and harder. Lando was losing his mind as he watched you move faster, your nails scratching down his torso. He was filling you so good he had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head every time his cock hit that sweet spot.

“Not gonna last long,” he warned you, his thumb finding your clit without even looking, although his eyes were on you the entire time, all of you, how your pussy looked as it swalowed his cock, how your boobs bounced with every roll of your hips, how your face contortioned in pleasure, and how your mouth fell open to let out the prettiest sounds he’s ever heard. He didn’t dare to look away; in case he was dreaming again, he didn’t wanna miss a single detail, and let’s face it, he didn’t wanna wake up this time.

“I’m close,” you breathed out, your legs burning from riding him, but you didn’t care; you only cared about how good he felt inside you.

“Cum with me, baby.” Both his hands returned to your hips, gripping them as he planted his feet on the bed to thrust up into you and help you move faster and more aggressively, trying to push you both over your edges.

Your own hand went to rub small circles where you were missing him as your other one fell on his shoulder to hold onto something, and before you knew it, you were coming around him. Your toes curled into the sheets, and your body trembled on top of his, making you fall forward and collapse across his defined chest.

"Fuck,” he whimpered when you squeezed him repeatedly. 

Lando had to do all the work himself, thrusting his hips upwards to meet yours, because your body wouldn’t and couldn’t move anymore as your orgasm racked through you. With four hard thrusts to your cunt, his load of cum shot up into your pussy and coated your slick walls.

Your bodies laid together as you both tried to catch your breath. His hand was rubbing your back, and his lips left a kiss on your temple, something he always did after you had sex.

“So, you had a sex dream?” You asked after a moment of silence. Lando chuckled at your question, kissing your shoulder softly before replying.

“And you just made it come true.”

[luveline]

hi, i have a request for hotch if that's okay with you :)

when they're on the jet, yn is smiling a lot at her phone so the team starts to tease her because the think that she has a mysterious boyfriend. and she does, but he's sitting right next to her and he's also wondering who's making her smile like that since it's clearly not him

tysm!

Hotch is trying hard to award you your privacy, but your smile makes it difficult. You're actually squared away from him despite sitting in the seat beside him of your own free will, your phone to your chest, a huge smile curved across your cute mouth. 'Cute mouth', Hotch thinks to himself with derision. He's thoroughly whipped for you. It might not work out. 

You've been secretive and strange on your phone for an hour now. With nothing left to do but wait for the jet to touch down, you can watch whatever or text whenever you want. Hotch just wishes it wasn't so distracting. Who are you texting? He feels ill. 

"Who's that?" 

The dam finally breaks. As soon as Morgan asks, Emily pipes up, "Yeah, who is it?" as Rossi laughs and declares, "I know that look. Young Y/N's in love." 

You side eye Hotch. "Workplace harassment," you say. 

"Who is it?" Hotch asks. 

You gawp but laugh at his unprofessional questioning, pressing your phone screen tight to your chest. "Hotch, it's–" 

"Your not-so-secret boyfriend? Come on, we all know you have one," Morgan says. 

"I know you know, you're like sharks," you say, giving them all a great long look. 

For weeks now, you've glowed. This overzealous smiling and laughing is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Your nosy coworkers can't hold back their curiosity any longer. Hotch was stupid enough to think that your secretive dates and nights spent curled in on one another might be the reason behind your new hopped up sprightliness, but apparently not. 

"So you admit it!" Emily cheers. 

"Maybe. But it's not what's happening on my phone." 

"Well, what is it?" Spencer asks. 

They've leaned in on you, a circle of eager faces. Your sudden decision to admit you —maybe— have a boyfriend is as much as anyone's gotten out of you in weeks. If anyone could tease the truth from you, of course it's Hotch, and so the team looks to their leader pleadingly. 

He's not sure he wants to know. "They won't leave you alone otherwise," he says, hoping that his expression shows his leniency. Your secrets are your own if you want to keep them. 

You smile at him. Again, he thinks you have a cute mouth, and that he's biassed but you definitely smile sweeter at him than anyone else. You and Hotch know something the others don't, amusement like light behind your irises. "I'll show you," you say smugly, "and only you, Hotch." 

"Typical," Morgan murmurs, sitting back on the couch. 

Hotch clenches his sweaty palms beneath the table. "Alright." 

You lean in against his shoulder. Your phone turns on, and he's taking deep breaths as you click to your photo app, and then an album labelled with a simple, '<3'. 

It's photos of him. Most he knows you took, sitting across from you in dark restaurants or kneeling in your apartment putting together a new set of drawers. Your giggles begin in earnest as you swipe through them to a more recent photograph. You couldn't have taken it more than a week ago, when he'd stayed the night with you by accident, too tired to leave. His face is slack in sleep. He realises it's a video when you click a button and the sound of crinkling fabric plays from your speaker. In the video, you unbutton the tight collar of his shirt, stroking his neck briefly with a loving knuckle. The video moves down to frame his arm, his hand clinging to your other one like a sucker. 

Hotch looks up from the video and blinks at you. Your hand on his sleeping neck, the sound of your tired laughter —he can't not smile. "Oh. That's…"

"What did you show him?" Morgan asks, his voice coloured with both amusement and frustration. The team echo his question.

"I can't kiss and tell," you say, still tucked up by his side. 

"I think it's best if you don't, L/N," Hotch agrees. 

He'd lose all credibility. 

[aphroditesmoon]

wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years. 

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves. 

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue. 

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other. 

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,  

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess. 

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however,  marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt. 

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you. 

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy. 

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered. 

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying. 

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out. 

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were. 

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.' 

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat." 

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?" 

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything. 

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. " 

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time. 

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.” 

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd? 

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have. 

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are.  “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response. 

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation,  she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder.  "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 4

04 : DISAPPEAR

SUM. : you find out the truth about the boys' relationship

REQUEST. : this might be a dumb question but are the marauders also all in a poly relationship with each other? if so, i'd love one where the reader finally has that realisation and gets all blushy and starts to consider if they'd ever want to include her —@thepunisherfrankcastle

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james ; tattoo artist sirius ; piercer remus ; only slight fluff ; mostly angst ; im so sorry ; reader finds out the truth ; but not really in the best way ; major misunderstanding trope ; sirius isn't a bad person! ; poly relationship revealed ; yay? ; distance ; walking away trope-ish ; james is precious ; remus trying to make the hard decisions ; our boys need a hug ; wolfstar ; starchaser ; angst angst angst ; im sorry im sorry im sorry!

LENGTH : 5.2k

← PREV. : 03 | GROCERIES

Hearing James giggling fills your chest with warmth and is so contagious that you have to bite your lip so as not to join him. He sees your resistance and moves his hand, making you freeze up and stop all movement. His index finger curls under your chin to lift your gaze as his thumb settles on your bottom lip and slowly draws it out from the press of your upper teeth. 

“I can’t be the only one laughing, angel,” on his face is an innocent smile but you know he’s devilish — the raging fire he lights up inside you with the smooth delivery of his simple statement is evidence enough that he’s up to no good.

His light grasp offers barely any resistance when you lift your chin away, “that’s because I’m not ticklish like you,” 

“Hey now,” he warns firmly but you can see the mutual playfulness reflecting clearly in his hazel eyes, it was like staring into clear honey, “you’re the one who’s colouring in my tattoo like a toddler,” 

“I was bored,” you defend a little too quickly, getting huffy and exaggerating a pitiful pout. It was… a sight, James admits in his head; you look adorable like this and he wants to frame the image in his memory forever, “and besides, you agreed to it,”

“Yeah, so don’t tease me about being ticklish,” his hand reaches up to play with a strand of your hair before he leans down to press a kiss onto your forehead, where you feel his mischievous smile lift up the corner of his lips, “instead, tell me how much you love to hear my laugh,”

There’s no way you’ll ever admit that. Not to his face, at least…

“Woah, comfy are we?~” came the familiar teasing voice of Sirius, who walks into the room and almost has his eyes bulging out at the sight of you and James, “you lucky bastard, Prongs,” Sirius clicks his tongue but there’s no malice in his eyes or tone, “shirtless, all relaxed and cool, leaning back into the sofa with our doll on your lap and colouring in your tats,” your cheeks heat up under your skin when a shameless expression takes over James’s face and he sends a wink over at his fellow tattooist. 

“I guess I saved the universe in a past life,” James chuckles, receiving an eye roll in return.

“And you, princess,” Sirius whistles playfully and leans down to kiss the crown of your head, “how lucky you are to have such well-sculpted muscles and a handsome face entertaining you,” the heat on your cheeks continue to blossom, “I don’t know who I’m more jealous of,”

That was the first time you were hinted at Sirius’s dichotomy. Between the wink he sends James and the satisfied grin the glasses-wearing brunette returns, you felt a slight shaking in your heart that you couldn’t quite place. 

It didn’t feel bad… but it didn’t feel good either…

After the first homemade lunch you made for them, you’ve gotten into the habit of regularly visiting the boys at the shop with boxed lunches whenever time nears noon. They often insisted that the first surprise lunch was enough thanks. 

“It’s really okay for you not to do this, dove,” Remus voices, slowly trailing off as he leans forward to wipe a stray crumb off the side of James’ mouth with his thumb, only to lick the crumb he wiped off without batting an eye. James pays him no mind either and continues savouring your cooking; he was always the one person who devoured your food as if he was a starved man being fed for the first time.

“But–” you quickly protest, trying to dismiss the small gesture between the two, “but I enjoy cooking for you,” 

“And we’re very grateful,” Sirius smiles warmly at you and takes your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles, “but your company is enough,” ever the flatterer and flirt, you resist the butterflies in your stomach from his gesture and words. 

“And we feel guilty that you have to buy and cook all this food,” Remus adds but you assure them one more time. 

“I promise I’ll stop if it ever gets too hard or burdensome but, for now, please let me do it…” the boys look at each other and smile following a unanimous sigh of defeat. You weren’t aware of the effect your soft pleas and pretty eyes had on them. Of course, they couldn’t say ‘no’ and agreed, satisfied with your pledge for the meantime. 

“Ugh! These cookies are amazing!” James praises, completely oblivious to the interaction you had with Remus and Sirius. He looks up and the three of you have to suppress your laughter at his childish appearance, crumbs surrounding his mouth as his cheeks puffed out from the food he still had to chew. 

“Swallow your food first, James,” Remus reminds, which James quickly does before addressing you again. 

“Can you please teach me?” James leans forward in earnest and you swear there are stars in his eyes, “please teach me how to make them so I can have them all the time. I’m an expert at making fruit tarts now but Moony and Padfoot are sick and tired of me making just fruit tarts,”

You were flattered but…“I want them to stay special though,” you pout softly, “I want to be the only person who bakes them for you,”

Before James could answer, Sirius breaks out into peels of laughter, “you don’t have to worry about that, doll,” he winks at you and side-eyes James with a smirk, “James sucks ass in the kitchen, especially when it comes to baking,” James shouts in protest but is swamped by the laughter shared between you, Remus and Sirius. Nevertheless, you finally agreed to teach him just so he stops pouting… even if he looked cute doing so. 

That Saturday, you were at their apartment, eager to teach James the secrets to your baking creations. Their flat was sizable and still relatively clean, which you verbally praise and are clued into all of their cleaning habits in more detail. It appears that they have a pretty good system going on that keeps things neat; Remus handles the organisation of all items and keeps stock on most things, Sirius proactively keeps all spaces clean and James loves doing laundry. When asked, he said that the main reason was because he liked the smell of clean sheets, which you couldn’t really blame him for. Together, their good habits cumulatively result in a tidy space and you were impressed; not only were they great friends but they functioned well together too. In some ways, you were envious of that. 

When you arrived at the apartment, the boys had all of the ingredients you sent over on a list laid out on their kitchen counters, ready to be put together and baked into your famous cookies. 

“Do you two want to join us?” you ask with a smile as James helped you into Sirius’ apron, tying up the strings behind you. 

“We’re good, darling,” Sirius smiles and offers to tie up your hair as James slips into his apron. You don’t deny his assistance and hand him over your hair tie as Remus observes the scene with a soft smile, leaning against the door frame that leads into the kitchen.

As much as Sirius and Remus disparaged James’ abilities to bake in the kitchen, he, once again, proved them wrong. He did pretty well with following your instructions and getting things done if you discounted the times he got distracted and had to pull you away from the work as well, just to share in the fun. The last time you baked together was a lot of fun and you were just as eager to get back into the kitchen with him in order to experience that joy all over again. Like last time, Sirius and Remus occupied the living room while you and James got to making the cookie dough before eventually baking the cookies. With the timer set, it won’t be too long before you’re happily serving everyone yours and James’ baked cookies with some tea and coffee. 

“It’s just down the hall,” James points out, directing you to their bathroom, “it’s the last door on your right,” with a quick word of thanks, you make your way out to relieve yourself while James gets started on clean up duty. You promised not to be too long so he didn’t have to clean all by himself but he just laughed it off and assured you to take all the time you need — ever the sweetheart. 

Your mood was light and happy and, like all other times you spent with the boys, it felt as if you were walking on air… that is, until you weren’t. From the corner of your eye, when passing the living room doorway, your heart came to a stuttering stop at the scene you happened upon. 

Seated on the sofa was Remus with Sirius’ laid down, his head on the tall brunette’s lap. It would have been a scene you could have easily shrugged off if it weren’t for Remus bending down so that the two could share a loving kiss. One that had Sirius running his fingers through Remus’ light brown hair, who returned the touch by tenderly gripping at Sirius’ thigh with a spare hand. You would have remained frozen there, like some petrified statue, if Sirius didn’t hum pleasantly only to have Remus chuckle against his lips. 

Hurrying to the bathroom, you struggle to get the scene out of your head as your heart breaks over and over again until the stinging pain in your chest dulls into a throbbing ache. 

If they were in a loving relationship then you were happy for them, truly…you were; they always looked so content and at bliss around each other, you felt stupid for not having put the puzzle pieces together yourself. It was just conflicting as to why they never hesitated to establish some sort of distance with you when they already had one another. They were together romantically and yet they were able to press loving kisses against your temple and wrap their arms around you with their loved one standing close by?...

“There you are,” James chuckles when you finally make it back into the kitchen, “I was starting to get worried that you somehow got lost on your way to the bathroom,” it was a weak attempt but you joined his laughter without offering to explain your whereabouts. Turning back to the sink, James returns to washing the dishes as you wordlessly get to wiping down the surfaces. He doesn’t appear to notice your sudden change in mood or, at least, he doesn’t let on that he knows; soon enough, he’s yapping away again, being his usual goofy self and drawing a smile from you. He almost makes you forget. You could always count on James to be your ray of sunshine; a happy bug who was eager to spread his contagious joy. 

Sirius and Remus were a… surprise, although you really should have known better than to not suspect anything. They’re happy though, and you’re happy for them; that’s what matters. 

It was hard to gauge whether or not you should confront them about the revelation you had about their relationship. You had to thoroughly think it over… 

There had to be a reason behind why Remus and Sirius didn’t want to tell you about their relationship and managed to get James in on it too. It must have been a very good reason. So you can’t fault them and resolve to stay silent on the matter. Their privacy needs to be respected; they’ll tell you when they’re ready, you’re sure of it. For now, you just have to act normal, as if nothing happened. The only problem was that you were left to wonder…

Why haven’t they told you? Is it awkward for them? Maybe they didn’t trust you enough? Did they think you were homophobic?— You’re not! You fully support all types of love in all its forms and would never be prejudicial towards them because they preferred the same gender. Or maybe they did trust you but the right time just never came up? That’s also plausible. They probably just need time…yeah! Time, you can give them that; you’re a very patient person, after all—

“—Dove?” 

“H-huh?” you blink rapidly, returning to the present as Remus tilts his head at you curiously. 

“Are you okay?” there’s an amused smirk painted across his lips as he eyes you up and down, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” his warm voice is like a comforting hug on an autumn day, one that makes you want to lose all thoughts and melt into his arms. 

“Y-yeah!” you chirp as embarrassment begins to creep in, “Sorry about that,” he laughs with you, “I guess I got distracted,” Remus nods, understanding in his eyes as he turns to the clock on the office wall.

“The both of us have been at it for a while,” he hums when reading the time, “I think we deserve a break,”

“Snack run?” 

Seeing the delight in your eyes, Remus laughs and presses a kiss to your temple. It takes everything in you not to lean away out of respect for Sirius —you still need to act as normal as possible so you don’t draw attention but it’s getting harder and harder to do so, “snack run,” he confirms, his gaze lingering on your tight-lipped smile. It’s an awkward tilt of your lips and it doesn’t belong on your usually soft and brightly beaming features, Remus thinks to himself. He wants to ruminate on it’s appearance further but files away his thoughts for another day, “let me tidy up here first and I’ll meet you out front,”

Nodding stiffly, you hurry to leave and get to the front of the parlour, where you can safely catch your breath. There, you can recalibrate your thoughts and feelings from a safe distance—

Your gradually slowing thoughts come to a grinding halt as you pass. 

What did you just see?...

Angling yourself carefully and peeking through the crack of the door, you resist the urge to gasp in horror. In an otherwise empty tattoo room, Sirius sits in his tech chair and angles himself upwards as James stands and leans down to meet the former in a sweet kiss. 

Scandalised, you cover your mouth and step away from the door, suppressing a scream as racing thoughts pour into your head. 

SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!

All breath escapes you and the world begins to spin. The charming, loyal and honest character of Sirius that you’ve built up in your head breaks apart and you’re left spiralling at the implications of his betrayal. You feel like crying and vomiting and throwing a rage-filled fit all at the same time! Wait! —No! It’s not about what you want to do it’s about what you need to do and that’s to—

It was then that you hear Remus walking down the steps behind you. Your heart jumps in your chest and your stomach caves in on itself. Leaning forward, you peek through the crack in the open door again and find Sirius carefully prepping his tools for a later appointment while James is against one wall on the other side of the room, checking something on the computer. 

Good… Remus doesn’t have to see anything… you think to yourself, although the thought alone makes your heart break all over again. 

“Ready to go?” Remus asks, approaching you with a lifted brow of curiosity. He’s probably wondering why you haven’t made it to the front of the parlour yet. 

“I-I was just thinking!…uhh,” you bite your lip and try to keep your rising panic from reflecting in your eyes. 

“Hmm?”

“I don’t really want to go on a snack run,”

“Oh?” Remus didn’t even try to hide his surprise, it wasn’t like you to not go on a snack run — so much for wanting to act normal… “How come?”

“I just remembered something-!” it was a lame excuse but you could kill two birds with one stone through this, it’ll be worth it, “-something I wanted to talk to Sirius about—”

“You called?~” speak of the devil and he shall appear. Upon hearing his name, Sirius pulls open the door and flashes his usual charming smile, which only draws a chilling glare from you. Caught off-guard, Sirius blinks in surprise, “What’s the matter, dollface?”

A taunting whistle floats through the air from behind him as James steps up and eyes your unusually angry expression, “what did you do this time, Pads?”

“I-I don’t know…” his normally confident, unwavering voice stutters and is offered cautiously, almost scared despite the tattooist standing a good few inches taller than you. 

Finding some confidence, you square your shoulders and address Remus again but keep your glare focused on Sirius, “Why don’t you and James go on a snack run while I talk to Sirius?” you almost snap out the cheater’s name from spite. You can’t believe you ever deluded yourself into thinking he was a good person that could do no wrong. He’s charmed you, Remus and James, tricked all three of you and you weren’t going to stand for it. 

The two boys jokingly wish their friend ‘good luck’ as they walk past and head out, promising to get his favourites so he can nurse his wounds from the verbal beat-down he was about to receive with something yummy. It’s clear that James and Remus don’t really believe you’re capable of delivering much vengeance or rage but the fire in your eyes tells Sirius otherwise. As soon as the front door closes behind the two, you push Sirius back into the private tattoo room before he could utter a single word. 

“You need to explain yourself, Sirius Orion Black and you need to do it now!” you demand, your voice harsh and biting, something you’ve never done in front of the boys before and catches the traitor, in your eyes, by complete surprise. Sirius doesn’t know what he’s done but he already feels incredible guilt and sorrow over it. He’s never wanted to draw out such a horrid emotion out of you; you’re only allowed to feel happiness and love and comfort. Not this. Never this…

“I-I don’t understand, princess—” he reaches for you but you step away from his touch, your piercing glare and obvious rejection stabbing a knife through his chest. You’ve never pulled away from his reach before, he’s not used to this. What did he do? He would take it all back, whatever he did, if it meant that you would lean into his touch again rather than pull away. He’d do anything to quash the evident flames of rage in your eyes. What did he do?... What did he do goddamnit?! 

“I saw it! I saw everything! You’re playing both of them!” you shout, your rage lashing out and scorching him with their intense heat. There was no holding you back, you told him everything, about how you saw his kiss with Remus and James. His eyes widen in shock before filling with horror, which does nothing but corroborate your heart breaking revelations, “I don’t want to believe it! How could you do this to them, Siri?...” your shouting voice slowly quietens and tapers off at the end, quivering like a shaken autumn leaf. So heartbroken over the fact, your rage quickly turns into sorrow and tears quickly fill your eyes, “You’re better than that, I know you are!” and you really do. No matter how betrayed you feel and having witnessed the evidence first hand, you cling onto the little slither of faith you still had in Sirius, “Please tell them the truth, they deserve the truth… they deserve you being forthcoming with them because they’re good guys,”

Looking on at you, Sirius feels his heart break. This misunderstanding was tearing you up inside and, although it makes him happy to know that you would confront him and be angry for the boys at his supposed betrayal, watching you break down, and sob uncontrollably made Sirius’ heart twist and clench uncomfortably— painfully so. 

Without a word, he reaches out again and is able to bring you into his arms. You don’t return the gesture but you make no effort to push him away either. 

“Shhh Shhh Shhhhhh, darling…” Sirius whispers comfortingly, softly patting your hair as he waits for your sobbing to calm down enough for him to come clean. Scrap the plan, whatever bullshit plan they came up with to slowly ease you into accepting their relationship before selfishly asking for your love as well. He wasn’t going to let you continue misunderstanding their relationship, especially when it’s causing you so much pain, “...this is all a big misunderstanding…” he begins softly once your cries were finally reduced to soft sniffles, “do you know what polyamory is, sweetheart?”

“...n-no…”

“It’s when more than two people agree to be in a loving, romantic relationship with each other, all at the same time,” he explains in the same soft voice, his arms never pulling away from you as he feels you slowly lose your grip on resistance. 

“Is…is that…”

“Yes, that’s the relationship James, Remus and I are all a part of…” he looks down with a gentle smile and watches you peek up at him curiously. Sirius resists the urge to swoop down and pepper your face with kisses. Just when he thought his love for you couldn’t grow any bigger, here you were being the sweetest, most caring and lovable little thing he’s ever laid eyes on. 

However, you slowly begin to shake your head and the resistance in your eyes and expression returns. This time you push him away and keep him at arm's reach. Like a scared prey animal being cornered by a predator, you inch your way back until you're pressing yourself against the wall beside the door. It takes Sirius two steps forward to finally stop and keep his place so that you don’t feel pushed or stressed by his presence. 

“I-I won’t believe you until James and Remus say so…” 

He shrugs and gives you a pained smile. He supposes he can’t blame you for being cautious and not believing him, he’s the apparent ‘cheater’, afterall. 

You watch Sirius part his lips to voice something when you hear the parlour door open and rush into the hallway to see James and Remus walk in. The two were grinning cheekily at each other and their arms were piled high with an assortment of snacks. They held true to their promise; you could spot many of Sirius’ favourites among the pile and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably. 

As soon as the two look up and see your dishevelled form, your eyes pink and tearful, your bottom lip wobbling from restrained cries and your frame closed up like a frightened clam, the snacks are carelessly disregarded and they rush to your side. 

“Dove?” Remus calls, worry evident in his voice as he steals a glance at Sirius over your trembling shoulder. The response he was given — tight lips, drawn into a straight line and unreadable eyes — wasn’t enough, however and his chocolate pools hardened into brown stone. What. Did. You. Do?... Remus silently interrogated the tattooist.

“What happened, angel?” James immediately wraps his arms around you and you almost melt into his hold if it weren’t for your need to clarify everything dominating your thoughts. 

“Are you and Remus in a relationship with Sirius?” your hesitant voice, small and fraying at the edges, speaks up but barely above a whisper. The two men visibly stiffen beside you and you feel a well of tears quickly building up again; your thoughts immediately jumping to the worst possible outcome. 

“Tell her the truth. Give her peace of mind, lads,” Sirius speaks up, his own voice lacking its usual confidence and was reduced to a vulnerable softness. 

“Yes,” Remus affirms after a beat of silence. 

“We’re all consenting, we all love each other, mutually!” James pipes up, his tone bordering on defensive despite not knowing what he’s their relationship defending from, “You…you don’t think of us differently do you?”

“No! No no no! Of course not,” you quickly elucidate your thoughts, your shoulders relaxing as you turn and meet eyes with Sirius, mustering a small smile, “it’s actually quite a relief,”

Grinning softly, Sirius steps up to explain the situation, “Dollface over here thought that I was cheating on you and James with each other, Rem,” he chuckles softly, amusement in his eyes though it still lacked their full brightness, “she gave me a good shouting to and looked like she was ready to bite my head off if I didn’t ‘come clean’ to both of you,” Remus laughs and pulls Sirius into a sideways hug as James coos lovingly at you. 

“You got angry for us, angel?” James presses his face into your hair and nuzzles you affectionately, “you’re the sweetest~” he coos, his smirk growing as he feels an embarrassed heat radiating off your cheeks. 

“St-stop the James,” you whine with an awkward smile and wiggle yourself out of his arms, avoiding his pouting lips because you know your resolve will melt away at the sight. It was confirmed. They were in a relationship, all three of them, with each other. You should be happy that Sirius wasn’t a cheater and still the wonderful man you saw him to be. But, no matter how happy you were for them, the twisting of your stomach and the gaping hole in your heart wasn’t easily fixable. 

The following weeks, you maintained the friendship you had with the boys, who no longer felt the need to limit their intimate touches around you. However, whenever they tried to initiate affection with you, as per usual, once the innocent kiss on the temple and harmless hug was now fervently being rejected by you and pushed away. You had no intention of disrespecting their relationship, even if most acts of affection you exchanged as friends were innocuous. But, then again, it was also your way of protecting your already shattered heart. Yes, you could just stay away from them entirely but you had built such a strong friendship with them that it didn’t feel right to candidly pretend that you’ve never met them before. It’ll do more harm than the harm you were inflicting now…  

Ever the observant man that he was, Remus knew the instant reason behind your hesitation and was quick to reassure you the next time you were invited over for tea. 

“It’s really okay, sweetheart,” the tall brunette hums softly as James and Sirius agree from their own seats, “we’re okay with it and you aren’t going to come in between any of us, I promise you,”

Stubbornly, you shake your head, pulling a deep frown from all of them.

“Are you not comfortable with it?” James asks with uncertainty, his question and its potential implication is filled with enough dread to make even his two lovers stiffen up. 

You nod your head ‘yes’ and they slump in their rejection. It hurt to know that the revelation of their relationship had pushed you away when the basic nature of their affair meant more love for everyone. And they wanted it to include you… Their romance that led to such an abundance of love and promises of more was now paradoxically pushing you away. For once, they didn’t know what to do, not a single one of them could come up with any idea to resolve the ever-growing tension in your relationship. It was a rubber band ready to snap. 

“If you’re uncomfortable then we’ll respect that and keep our distance, touch-wise” Remus surrenders despite the heartbreak it gives him while Sirius shoots up and sends him an irate glare, one that Remus coldly returns. It wasn’t a question of their comfortability but yours, Sirius needed to regard that to the highest degree and Remus was all too ready to make him face the music. They can’t afford to lose you and if it meant that he needed to make the hard decisions then so be it.

“Thank you,”

“...do you not want to be around us anymore?” James speaks up, not necessarily taking things to their extremes but rather potential, future escalations. He’s seen it. In the days and weeks that followed the divulgence of their true relationship, bit by bit you have begun to pull away from them to the point where James can vividly see where the escalation of your behaviour will lead and it’s frightening. One day, you’ll just disappear and that terrifies him. 

“No no…” your weak defence, lacking true resolve, ignites a shock of terrorising fear in all three of them, their eyes shaking with trepidation. But you couldn’t see it because you couldn’t look at them, like a coward. Because that’s what you are — a coward. The heartbreak was chipping away at you. You thought you would be brave enough to see them happy together but you couldn’t. Because, not only were you a coward, but you were selfish too. Green with envy, you stewed in that awful, stomach-twisting, heart-aching, bitter-tasting, gut-wrenching feeling each time you saw every loving kiss, affectionate cuddle and sweetly whispered words. 

Throughout your friendship you grew to love each of them as more than a simple friend. You know it was wrong but they were all so charming in their own, unique way. They treated you sincerely, cared for you without any sinister, ulterior motives and they’ve successfully wormed their way into your life and heart, permanently. 

What was once something that brought you such joy, warmth and feelings of safety was now mercilessly ripping you apart. 

Their dynamic looked different to you now that you were looking through a different lens. They weren’t just close friends anymore, they were very much in love and have been romantically involved for a few years now — it was one of the first things you found out about their relationship. Its longevity was a testament to their unwavering love for each other and here you were, secretly, selfishly and salaciously hoping for your own slice of the love pie.  

How dare you…

Just because you’ve had such bad luck with love didn’t mean you had the right to wish for something that couldn’t possibly become yours. You have no right to ask them for love when they are completely content with their own.  

“Please don’t push us away, dollface,” Sirius begs softly, his steel grey eyes melting into a pool of mercury. Beautiful but poisonous. Something you want but can’t have. 

“I’m sorry,” you’re breathless when you see the genuine fear in their eyes and turn away from the sight. This isn’t the time to turn weak at the knees, “it’s getting pretty late, I should go,” shouldering your bag, you get up and rush to leave their flat. 

“Stay,” Remus half commands and half begs, almost stopping you in your tracks, “please stay… we need to talk to you about something important,” if there was any time for them to reveal the truth, it was now. Before they lose you, before they drown themselves in regret, before they fall into a pit of despair, before they—

“I’m sorry…” you repeat and, just as James feared, you disappear. 

A/N : this took such a long while to write but i wanted it to be perfect, thank you so much for requesting this darling @thepunisherfrankcastle it fit perfectly into the plot although i did make some slight altercations to your request. unfortunately, there's still more to go after this so i'm going to have to leave you darlings with a cliffhanger, look out for part 5! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

→ NEXT. : 05 | DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS M.LIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @ghostgardn @mess-is-my-aesthetic @susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic TAGLIST CLOSED

[brailsthesmolgurl]

“Do you have games on your phone?”

Preview: A look into the guilty-pleasure games the boys would have on their phones and what they would generally what is in their phone.

XAVIER

“Yeah I play them every once in a while.” The blond boy lifted his phone screen up, directing it to your face and it revealed the home page. Of course he would have your FACE ID registered into his phone. He is a man of privacy most of the time so having his phone to be locked is mostly to restrict strangers from accessing his phone. His phone applications are neatly arranged into folders, he has a lot of them, separated and boxed away according to their usage. Useless Apps, Useful Apps, Socials and Games. These are about the amount of folders he would have on his home page, featuring a silhouette picture of you staring off into the dark of the night, admiring the moon and basking under its silvery light. That picture of you is one of his favourites out of the other pictures he has of you in his photo album. “You can try playing this.” He pretty much has all of the classic games one could think of in his Games folder. Subway surfers, Temple Run, Angry Birds, Minecraft and many other classics.

You were stunned at the amount of games that the folder holds. It took your around five swipes to reach the end of the folder. When asked with why he has so much games that it filled up more than half of his storage, he flashes you an amused grin. “I spend a lot of my time on my phone if I am alone or not sleeping. So I like to keep myself entertained.” He is the type to watch you play the games on his phone, seemingly entertained by how hard you were trying to beat his score when he himself has worldwide rank of #1 across all games. You are definitely in shock and low-key wondered how long does he actually spend on playing all of these games in order to gain such a rank. When you lost within the first few rounds, you realised you flashing him a frown was a mistake when he said. “It’s hard to gain my score right? My advice is that you can stop trying to beat me and just enjoy the game.”

RAFAYEL

“Oh, finally you want to see if I have any secret contacts of girls stashed away in my phone? It’s gonna be disappointing for you my love.” The artist teases, lips curled into a smirk when he hands you his phone and you familiarly typed in the passcode. The phone clicked and it brought you to the home page, featuring a picture of you and him taken during one of his most recent exhibitions. The both of you stood next to one another, his arms around your waist and posed in front of the huge canvas of abstract art. His phone applications however, are not organised, just like his house most of the time when things gets too busy on his end. As an artist, he always calls it ‘beauty apparent within a mess’. He only owns one game on his phone and it is an RPG dating game. He is so down bad at missing you some times that he had to result to games to suffice his own needs of needing to be around you. The RPG dating game is the typical choice making game that affects the results of the game and he puts in an insane amount of money to make his character look as similar to himself and the crush in the game to be as ornamented as you.

Teasing him about his game choice drives him into a blushing frenzy. Denial at first but eventually succumbing to his own guilty pleasure when you started asking about the character models he had spent an insane amount of time to sculpt in game. “I just wanted to play this game whenever I do not get to spend time with you either it’d be in a different time zone or you’re just busy. A man has his own needs and I see this being a healthy way of missing you without bothering you on a daily basis.” His bashfulness reply made you smiled, for he is a genuine man afterall and he expresses his love to you in the weirdest yet most caring method. “If you see any clothes in the store, you can just buy it so I can get the in-game you to wear it. If they said that I do not have enough gems for the transaction just reload it for me yeah?”

ZAYNE

“Here. You can try and play it if you’d like.” He unlocked his phone with his fingerprint and handed it over to you. He has your fingerprint and Face ID registered into his phone’s security system but since you asked out of the blue, he might as well just do you the favour to unlock the phone for you, as he is a proclaimed gentleman. You asking for what games he has on his phone makes the all-time serious man cracked a thin smile on his lips, fancy seeing you embracing your childlike image. His wallpaper is a picture of you and only you, sat in the middle of a flower field with a smile as bright as the sun that hung above in the clear skies. You remembered this image, it was one of those days where a planned trip was interrupted and so the both of you ended up with spontaneous plans. This specific flower field being one of the result of the spontaneity. His home page is ridiculously minimal, with each page dedicated to specific apps. He has only two games on his phone; Tetris and Sudoku.

You were even surprised he has any games on his phone. When asked for the reason, the doctor who was focused on his paperwork paused for a moment and looked at you with bewildered forest-like orbs. “Such games are researched to be stimulating to one’s brain, it aids in relieving boredom and also exercise it. Statistics has shown that it helps in improving one’s logic sense, problem solving skills and pattern spotting skills. You should try it as you always seemingly can’t use your brain whenever you’re caught up in a situation that requires you to use one. It might teach you that brute force may not be the answer to all.” His strict tone made your gaze narrowed at him, taking his words towards the side of offence. But he does make a point as you are the one that is always going into his office with physical injuries. Furthermore, him spitting facts for educative purposes effectively diminishes your will to rebut him. “I have already taken the liberty to download the games I had mentioned into your phone, perhaps you can play them whenever you are free.”

[natashaslesbian]

For You

Summary: You’ve been going through a rough patch with your moms for a while, after a big argument you finally tell them how you feel.

Word Count: 1.2k

Parings: (Wandanat x Daughter!Reader)

Warnings: none I believe :)

————

The walls shook as you slammed your bedroom door shut, the tell tale sign of another fight with your moms. Most teenagers have arguments with their parents, who usually have high expectations of them. But being the daughter of the Black Widow and the Scarlett Witch meant that your expectations were set much higher. Growing up your moms were your best friends, you spent every second with them, it was the three of you against the world. You had a magical childhood and all your school friends were jealous of your home life, however after your 13th birthday Natasha and Wanda decided that it was time for you to start training alongside Peter. It was nothing extreme, a few hours a week in the gym and some basic self defence. As Peter progressed you soon fell behind, not only disappointing your teammates but also your mothers.

You let out a sigh as you slumped down onto your bed, rolling over to face the wall incase of any unwelcome visitors. You replayed the row in your head, Natasha’s words loud and clear in your mind. “Why can’t you be more like Peter, he’s doing so well, he puts so much work into his training, he’s not lazy like you!” She had shouted across the room. That was your final straw. If only they knew the effort you held within you, they just didn’t care about it as it had nothing to do with being an avenger. As a kid you loved to draw and paint, and as you got older it became a favourite hobby. At first your moms would take your cute little drawings and put them around the compound to be admired but as they transitioned back into work and long missions they didn’t really have the time to appreciate your art anymore and very quickly they forgot about your favourite activity.

A knock at the door arrived as another tear slipped down your cheek. “Go away” you huffed. Shortly after came a gentle click of your door. “Who said you could come in?” You asked. Your mom didn’t say anything just yet, she simply walked over to your bed and took a seat next to you. “Y/n” Wanda said “I- I’m sorry. I hate when we fight kiddo” she said as she reached for your hair. “Mama started it” you replied as you pushed away her touch. “Baby mama didn’t mean what she said. We had words after you left and she knows she was wrong, she’s gone for a walk to calm down” your mom said as she shuffled closer. “And I know that I was wrong too” she said, causing you to look up at her. “I shouldn’t have shouted like I did” Wanda said with a hint of guilt in her eyes. Your mom never usually shouted at you, she was normally the calm one although still echoing everything your mama was saying.

Wanda’s vulnerability made you think for a moment. You had always hidden how you truly felt, putting on a tough act so you didn’t disappoint your moms even further. When Wanda had come to see you, you were prepared for round two with her. But the delicacy she had entered the room with caused something in you to shift. “Why am I not good enough for you and mama?” You cried out, the sight breaking Wanda’s heart. “Baby don’t say that!” Your mom cooed as she pulled you up into her embrace “you are good enough for us darling” she said. “You just want me to be like Peter” you sobbed “you’d rather him be your kid” you tried to push away from Wanda’s hold, but she tightened her grip around you, “we don’t think that y/n” she said. “I know I’m not as good as him at combat and weapons and stuff but I am good at other things! Why can’t you see that? I’m trying so hard to make you proud of me but nothing I ever do is good enough!” You cried.

Without realising, a second pair of arms had been wrapped around you, a steady hand was trailing through your hair. “Mama?” You mumbled as you looked up to see her green eyes. “I’m never gonna be good enough for you am I?” You said as you melted into her arms. Natasha had been stood outside your room for a few minuets listing to yours and Wanda’s conversation. She felt so guilty when she heard what you said and came running to your side, crying along with you. “Oh my little spider, look at me” Nat said as she cupped your cheeks, bringing your gaze towards her. “I promise you’re enough baby girl, I’m so sorry I made you feel like you weren’t. Your mom and I are so proud of you but we’ve been blinded by our own want for you to become an agent. But it’s not what you want is it?” She asked. You looked at her confused for a moment, finally starting to calm down again. “Your artwork” Natasha whispered.

“Mama you remembered?” You asked. “Of course we did sweetie” Natasha said “baby you’re a fantastic little artist we loved when you used to bring us all your drawings” Wanda said as she brushed your hair back from your face. “But I thought you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted me to focus on being an avenger” you cried “you never had any time for me” you mumbled as you laid in your moms arms. “You’re right baby girl and mama and I are so sorry” Wanda said as she kissed your forehead. “Y/n being an agent and an anger is all your mom and I have ever known” Natasha said “we’ve not put being mothers first and we know that now. We thought we were putting you first by pushing you into training but we weren’t and we are so sorry” she finished. You sat up so both your moms could see you, you took a deep breath as you prepared to tell them the truth “mom, mama” you whispered “I don’t wanna be an avenger” you cried out “I’m sorry” your moms both scooped you up immediately, both now crying with you.

“We know that now sweetie” Wanda calmly said “you don’t have to be sorry” she said. “I don’t wanna disappoint you” you mumbled as you wiped your nose “dekta you could never disappoint us” Natasha said “this is your life and you’re old enough now to decide how you want to live it, all we want is for you to be happy” your mama said. It was like a breath of fresh air had hit your bedroom, everything you had wanted to say was finally out in the open. “I think I know what I wanna do” you said looking up at your moms “what is it darling?” Wanda asked “after I finish school, I wanna go to college, to study art. Is that ok?” You sheepishly asked. “Oh y/n of course it is” Natasha said “it might be expensive though” you frowned “well that’s what uncle Tony is for” Your mama giggled “and besides we’ve got some money put away from you, it’s plenty enough to get you where you need to be” Wanda said “really?” You asked, trying hard to hide your excitement. “Really baby” Natasha said “whatever you need, we’ll sort, we’re your moms and that’s our job” Wanda said as she ran her hand under your chin. “I love you mom” you said to Wanda “I love you mama” you said to Natasha.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[wolfiesmoon]

My princess

baji x fem!reader

another one for my baji girlies😘😘😘😘😘😘

do not be fooled by the title by the way this is not what it seems😈 @riabriyn one tag for uuuu

Also warning there's a few swear words!

"So, where is he?" your friend asked, glancing at her watch. You had finally promised your friends that they'd get to meet your new boyfriend. They complain that he's all you've been talking about lately and you can't really blame them since that's the truth.

You're just really happy that you have a boyfriend like the rest of them, is all.

"He should arrive right about now." You smiled happily. You can't wait to see him already.

You heard the sound of a motorcycle in the distance and your smile widened, knowing he was about to arrive. Oh, you'll show him off so hard. All your friends are gonna be so jealous.

When he stopped in front of you and your friends, you ran up to him and hugged him before he could even step off the bike. "I missed you, babe!"

"You literally saw me yesterday." He sounded annoyed but he hugged you back.

You looked back at your friends as Baji got off the bike, eyebrow raising at their shocked expressions.

"That's... your boyfriend?" One of them asked cautiously. You nodded slowly.

"Girl, you should have told us your boyfriend is uhhh... a delinquent." Your friend picked her words carefully, too afraid to upset your mystery of a boyfriend.

"But I told you about him..." Baji was looking in between all of you, trying to understand your collective confusion.

"You told us that he's your little princess and that he brings you flowers and takes you to cat cafés. I think all of us collectively imagined something different."

"All these things still hold true, though. Can't he be a delinquent but also super sweet?" You shrugged. You didn't lie a single time when you said those things.

"You call me your what now?" Baji placed a hand on your shoulder, still in disbelief.

"I call you my little princess!" You smiled warmly at him, turning around and hugging him once more. Despite his shock, he hugged you back again.

"Why the fuck would you call me that? Couldn't you have picked something better?" Your friends just watched the two of you, not sure what to do.

You pouted. "But little princess fits you so well..."

"What exactly screams little princess about me to you?" He asked. Your friends asked the same question internally.

"You're so cute and sweet and you have the prettiest hair. All princess qualities."

Ok, now your friends just think you're delusional. And so does Baji, a little bit. Though he loves you regardless.

"Listen, can't you just call me something better?"

"Hmmmm... how about 'my little meow meow'?" You offered after thinking for a few seconds.

"I asked for something better." Baji sighed.

Normally it wasn't his thing to back off from anything really, but he had a feeling you would come up with something even more embarrasing if he kept pushing. You kind of remind him of his mom back when he was younger. She kept insisting to call him the most embarrasing nicknames, even in front of his friends.

Those nicknames are a secret he'll make Mikey take to the grave.

"Whatever, just call me your princess or something. I don't give a shit anymore." He huffed.

He watched your face light up and you thanked him excitedly, to which he just clicked his tongue in return.

Your friends noted that his cheeks are a little red. What an odd pair the two of you are.

.

.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅Bonus fic (You thought it was over? Think again😈😈😈)

"Aaah, you look so cute, I could just squish your cheeks!" Baji had to slap your hand away because you were actually going to do it.

He let you play with his hair since you kept asking to and now he has a baby pink bow tied into a ponytail on his head.

"Awww, you're no fun." You placed your hands back down, pouting playfully.

He happened to glance at the clock, realising that he was supposed to be having a first division meeting very soon. The way you played with his hair relaxed him so much that he lost track of time.

He shot upright, making you flinch slightly.

"Where are you going?" you asked, worried you upset him.

"Shit. I have a meeting." he hissed behind clenched teeth. Well, you suppose you can't blame him. Though you did want to play with his hair for way longer.

He quickly left, hopping onto his motorcycle and driving off to the meeting location. One thing he would never do is be late to his own meeting.

Luckily, he arrived a bit before everyone else did, with only Chifuyu waiting for him there. "Oh, Baji-san, I- What's that?" Chifuyu pointed at the pretty pink bow.

Oh, he completely forgot about that. Normally he would be embarrased because of something like this, but strangely, the bow you put in his hair filled him with a sense of pride. Like a sign that he's really yours.

Before Baji could explain the bow, everyone from the first division stopped in front of the meeting place on their bikes.

"Let's begin." Baji sat down on the edge of the fountain across from the other gang members.

All of the gang members gathered were visibly holding back laughter, some even let a few giggles slip.

This irked Baji to no end.

"You guys got a problem with my girlfriend's sense of style? Laugh at me, I fucking dare you." Everyone's expressions instantly straightened at Baji's scary face.

Chifuyu let out a little "ohhh..." since he figured out that you were the one who gave him that bow.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. So yesterday..." as he talked about the reason they're even having this meeting, he was filled with a sense of pride.

That pretty pink bow is proof that he has a beautiful girlfriend and he isn't afraid to show her off.

[realjungkook]

Too Busy Being Yours

Keigo Tamaki (Hawks)/Reader

Note: first smut (except that one omegaverse i did with my friend on Ao3, but please bear with me, this is probably bad.) Anyway!

Warnings: 18+ (pretty vanilla), Not proofread

Summary: You don't like Hawks, until a late night of unexpected, Passionate events take place.

Word count: 1857

Enjoy!

Your heels click on the floor as you try to follow Hawks’ quick steps. His long legs makes it difficult to follow him while wearing stilettos. The pile of papers are tightly pressed against your chest, as you desperately try not to drop them. You’re barely looking where you’re going, and almost hit two people. Hawks is pulling you along by your arm, and he’s the only reason you haven’t hit anything yet. 

“Can you slow down?” You hiss between your teeth. He turns his head, a cocky smile perched on his lips. 

“Can’t keep up?”

You roll your eyes. Hawks was always teasing you in the worst situations possible, when you were least in the mood for it. 

“I told you we had to leave earlier.”

“Whatever you say.” He turns back. You’ll be there soon. 

Hawks always had a tack for being late. Being his assistant was by far the most stressful job you’ve ever had. And his constant jokes and cheerfulness were draining sometimes. Even if it was uplifting when you’d had a bad morning. 

You finally get to the interview, in a small apartment on a street corner. You stop to catch your breath, sweat immediately collecting on your brow. Of course, Hawks was irritatingly unaffected. 

“See ya later, darling,” he winks, and you shake your head, ignoring him. You were stressed. This interview gave you a bit of time to focus on all the paperwork you were behind on. 

You of course, don’t see Hawks’ smile quickly fading when he realises you weren’t really affected by his teasing. Funny. He wasn’t used to that. 

Hawks rising in popularity meant more paperwork for you. And paperwork for a top 3 hero wasn’t something that could wait until morning. A headache had been forming behind your forehead for the past two hours and it was simply getting too hard to ignore. You sigh, pushing out your chair, getting up to get yourself another cup of coffee. Was this your fifth today? Your seventh? It doesn’t matter, anyway. The only thing filling your brain is heroes, interviewers and media. The tiredness wasn’t allowed to nudge its way in. You couldn’t afford that. 

You’re so lost in thought, you don’t feel the presence sneaking up on you. Only when two warm hands grab your shoulders and you shriek, heart jumping in your throat. 

“What are you doing here so late?” And oh, it’s just Hawks. You groan, pushing his hand away. 

“Fuck off.” 

You turn to walk away again, suddenly forgetting what it was you came for. But Hawks isn’t giving up so easily. 

“Aww, come on, humour me.”

You’ve had enough. 

You turn around, grabbing his collar in anger. Of course, he doesn’t budge an inch. But it certainly feels good, and you’re tired and irritated, frustrated and angry. And you just… explode. 

“Don’t test me! This has been too long of a day… a week… a month… a year for that matter. You’ve tested my limits every day, for however long I have worked for you, I’m so fucking sick of being your plaything. You don’t respect me, you don’t respect my work-”

“Y/n.”

“You don’t seem to care for how I’m doing, just constantly putting more pressure on me. You never take a moment to stop and think. Maybe you’re not the fucking only person in the world.”

“Y/n.”

“Maybe, for just a second, could you care about someone that isn't you. And maybe, just maybe, would you think it isn’t my job to take care of you when you’re alone or sad, I’m your assistant for god's sake, you big!… fucking!… man baby!”

“Y/n! Oh my god, listen!”

You push him back. “But you never listen to me!”

Hawks’ eyes are wild. He looks flabbergasted, as surprised as you’ve ever seen him. But his open mouth slowly forms into a smirk. Your stomach drops. Whether it’s in anticipation, fear, or maybe even excitement, you don’t know. 

“Oh but I do. About the things that are important.”

You tsk. “What things?”

He looks too smug, as he starts to speak. 

“I know that you deeply hate the guy from block 1.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. 

“I do not-”

He laughs. “Don’t play smart. You frown everytime he opens his mouth during meetings, and always object when he has an idea. It’s obvious.”

Obvious, yet only you’ve noticed. 

It’s your turn to look flabbergasted now. 

“Okay, so maybe he’s not my favourite person in the world, you’re right about that.”

Hawks smiles. 

“And you never wear your hair up. I take it you don’t like the sensation.”

It had never really caught your attention, just how much notice Hawks took of you, compared to how little you took of him. You’re borderline speechless. This always happens to everyone around you. His fans, coworkers, but never you. You 're never affected. The man takes notice, and he suddenly seems closer than before. 

“Cat got your tongue?”

If this were five minutes ago, you would’ve sighed and rolled your eyes. But now, you’re silent. 

“I just- I didn't know.”

His fingers find Your neck and goosebumps travel through your whole body. 

“Didn't know what? That I like you?”

Your immediate reaction is of course, denial. 

“That doesn't make any sense. Why would a pro hero be into someone like-”

But you don't get to finish, as he suddenly pulls you close. 

“I’m going to kiss you. That okay?”

 You’re so surprised that you just freeze, staring up into his big, owlish eyes. You can’t tell what kind of emotion hides behind them. 

“Okay,” you whisper, feeling the desire pull in your chest, more intense than you’d ever experienced. Before you get to take another breath, Hawks lips are on yours, soft and wanting, like this is the last time he’s going to kiss you. You really hope that’s not the case. 

Breathing is the last thing on your mind as your mouths passionately move together. You’re clutching his shirt hard, and you can feel his erection growing against you. 

“I wanna eat you out,” he says, biting your earlobe. The surprisement from all of this has still not entirely passed, but you’ve decided to just go with it. 

“Please,” you moan, and it comes out a lot more desperately than you’d anticipated. You clumsy move towards your desk, his lips sucking eagerly on your neck as you both try to unzip your skirt. He hits a spot on the end of your neck that feels incredibly ticklish and good, and you moan a bit too eagerly as he desperately pushes all of the papers off of your desk in one swipe. 

You feel a stab of irritation in your chest, and is about to give him a piece of your mind, before he pushes you down with practised ease. His incredible strength really comes to sight in a situation like this. It turns you on a lot more than you’d thought it would. you seem to get surprised a lot today.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

You’re pretty sure he’d be able to spread them just fine himself, but you still listen, flinching a bit when the cold air hits your aching cunt. You’re so wet already that it’s almost embarrassing. 

He grips your thighs securely, kissing up your inner thighs. You’re so wet that you can feel the slick dripping down to your asshole. 

As soon as he gets started, Hawks is unstoppable. He eats you out like he’s starving. You’re too gone to be embarrassed about the wet squelching sounds, as he eagerly sucks your clit with the confidence of an experienced man. Your legs are shaking, and you’re sure that there will be marks tomorrow from where his fingers grip your thighs tightly. 

“Don’t, ngh- don’t stop!” you loudly breathe out, voice trembling as you, to your utmost surprise, suddenly cum. Everything feels overwhelming as he stops, lifting his head, his whole underface covered in your wetness. 

“You’re acting like I would ever,” he says, a bit out of breath. You can’t deny your attraction to him anymore, especially in a moment like this. “You taste too sweet,” his voice drops an octave as he leans closer to your face, breathing against your lips. “You can’t imagine how long I've wanted to do this. I could go on all night, until you’re completely dry. And then in the morning, I want to fuck you until my body gives out.”

That would take a while, especially with the incredible stamina he has, you think, feeling as if you’re in some kind of pleasant haze. 

“You don’t know how feral I am for you, y/n. It’s scaring even myself.”

You stare up at him in surprise, suddenly unsure of what to do. But you don’t need to be sure about anything, as Hawks leads you through it. 

He pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you, as you wonder how you’re even able to take this. On an uncomfortable desk at that. But true to his word, you’re riding him like you’ve never ridden anyone ever before in his apartment a few hours later as the earliest sunlight start to stream through the curtains. 

Hawks face is pulled back in pleasure as he slides his hands up your hips, shamelessly studying your bouncing breasts. 

“You’re so good for me,” he grumbles, and you let out a pleased whine at the praise. The sheets under you are soaked, but with the way Hawks is praising and caressing you, you feel like you could go on forever. 

His mouth drops open, and you can tell that he’s about to cum. You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin getting impossibly louder. You just hope the neighbours won’t complain tomorrow. 

It’s incredibly thrilling, having the famous pro hero in the palm of your hand like this.

“I’m going to cum,” He warns, and not even a second later, warmth suddenly fills your belly as his white seeds coat your walls. You cum yourself only seconds later, resisting the urge not to scream as you feel his cum dribble down onto the sheets, your body spasming with the shocks. You hold back a wince at the distant thought that you’d maybe scratched his back a bit too hard. You’ll have to remember to ask him later if he’s okay. But for now, you can barely keep your eyes open. 

“Can we stay like this for a little while?” He asks, and you nod faintly, resting your head on his shoulder. Not a single thought passes behind your eyes, only the warmth of your bodies sticking together and Hawks, Hawks, Hawks. 

You didn’t care about the mess. Right now, you only cared about him. And that was enough.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Man overboard!”

Annabeth does, in fact, understand that such a cry warrants hastiness. Hurry, even.

“Man overboard! Man overboard!”

Most men, after all, cannot swim, and if the whispers are to be believed then this particular man is not even conscious to try. He is no doubt in peril, and the Fates have a stronger hold on his thread with every passing moment.

“Make way! Man overboard!”

If she is jostled one more time, however.

“Man overboard! Lower the ladder, man overboard!”

Should even one more crew yank her back away from the walls of the ship, patting her on the arm as they shove her ‘somewhere more befitting for such a finely dressed lady’.

“Hook it around him, for the gods’ sake, man overboard!”

There are going to be several more men joining him.

“Clear a path! Clear a path!”

She makes it, finally, to the rail unimpeded enough to lean over and see the man who, she has heard, has fallen overboard. He clings like dark-haired Danaë on the waterlogged hope of a wine barrel, bare back burned from the sun, nose nearly dragging along the friendly swirling waves. His dignity is covered, barely, by a torn, bloodstained cloth, and his tanned skin is crisscrossed with raised white scars.

He is handsome.

She stumbles back from the hull, face burning. And absurd thought to have. She seeks out deliberately a close-cropped head of blond hair, smiling tersely when Captain Grace meets her eyes, offering her a nod.

“Straight line,” she murmurs to herself, pulling back her shoulders.

She gives the men plenty of distance as they haul the downed sailor up from the depths. It irks her, really, to be following their orders, but to help or to offer it would mean more of the jostling, the pushing. More grimey hands irreparably staining the fine silk of the new dress Mother had sent her with.

It takes the crew an embarrassingly long time to haul the man up, even though Annabeth can see, as one of the bulkier men wraps a limp arm around his shoulders, that he is slight. He has the shoulders of a swimmer and the leanness of a scavenger, but his frame is small. In fact she is almost sure that upright, they would stand shoulder to shoulder. Perhaps an inch on his part, nothing more.

She realises, with a start, that the crew is staring at her, and forces her second blush of the day back from whence it came. She meets the expectant states with a tilted chin and hard eyes, drawing her skirts and clicking her heels against the groaning deck.

“What,” she snaps.

“He’s unconscious, my lady.”

“So? Place him out of the sun, have someone monitor him.”

The crewman supporting the unconscious man — truly, Annabeth needs to learn these men’s names; it would be easier if any of them spoke to her at any time other than to ask if the sun was making her feel faint — shifts from foot to foot.

Well.

Foot to peg.

“Yes,” he says eventually. He makes some sort of vague gesture with his hand, stepping forward. “Er — our thoughts exactly, my lady.”

Still, no one moves. The unconscious man’s head lolls, pitching his whole weight forward. Another sailor lunges forward to catch him, readjusting him so he’s steady.

Still, no one moves.

Annabeth shifts to face her betrothed. He winces under her sharp look, hand coming up to run the back of his neck.

“He may fare best under your care,” Captain Grace says hesitantly. “The bunks are unfit for someone in his condition. And my men can be…rough.”

“Choose your words carefully, Jason,” she warns.

Grimacing, Captain Grace plows on. “I mean no offense, my lady. We have no other women on the ship. Your cabin is cool and sheltered and I know you enjoy those weaving projects in idle time. He will not require much more than an eye to ensure he does not pass in his sleep. I can think of no one more capable to watch over him.”

The doctor, for starters, Annabeth thinks. Drunk as he is, the sickly rescue should be his charge; nursing him should be his task.

The crew doesn’t even glance at him, though. He stands happily to the side, red-faced and cross-eyed, bottle dribbling from his trouser pockets, and Annabeth fights the urge to bare her teeth.

“Whatever you believe is best, Captain,” she grits out. She glares at the crew, pausing on each man until he squirms under her gaze. “Do not leave him to soak my sheets.”

They leave him, instead, sprawled on the wooden floorboards.

Annabeth scowls.

A four week journey, her mother had told her. Barely a month at sea, with plenty of stops on the islands dotting the paths and a stack of journals for her research. Captain Grace’s vessel is exceptionally well-stocked and custom built by the brightest of his father’s engineers; so smoothly is it claimed to flow through the water that all aboard her will scarcely feel even the roughest rock of the waves.

A sharp veer to the side has Annabeth stumbling, nearly crushing herself under the man’s dead weight.

“Smooth,” she grumbles to herself, huffing as she drags him back upright. His skin is alarmingly cool from the bite of the water, and still slick. It takes her four tries to force his arm back over her shoulder, slippery as it is. “Top model, they say. Well, what a purse of lies that is. I could design a better ship in my —” she huffs, yanking him the last few feet towards her bed — “sleep.”

She could be more gentle with him, she supposes. If his head or spine is injured then her rough handling will doom him. But, well, penny, pound, et cetera. If he has a head injury and the waves haven’t killed him, her light tossing won’t, either.

Probably.

She deposits him on top of her quilt and then stands at the foot of her bed, hands on her hips, toes tapping. She tilts her head slightly to the right. Narrowing her eyes, she tilts it to the right. She wrinkles her nose and squints her eyes.

She can’t be faulted for her earlier thoughts, she decides.

He has a strange kind of charm to him. The same magnetism present in the performers of her mother’s court; men and women who gather in bright clothing and perform tricks and tease the audience, riding the thin line between furious huffing and uproarious laughter. Troublemakers, with enough skill to balance the line. Thin, twitching fingers and smile lines in the corner of his eyes, thick but maintained brows and dramatically bowed lips.

With a sound so great it rivals the billowing coal engines down billow, the man snores, trail of saliva trickling down his chin.

How revolting. Annabeth finds her lips twitching upwards and resets them deliberately into a graceful line.

Yes, he is the alluring kind. She wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be some kind of thief, or a cast-out stowaway. A wisecracker who pushed the envelope an inch too far.

She stalks over to the windowed wall of her tiny cabin, wrestling it open. The immediate relief of the sea breeze has her gasping, resisting the urge to stick her head out and bask in the cool air. That would be undignified, even if her room as become unbearably stifling with the presence of another person in it.

Gods, she is lonely.

She had hoped at least to have one of her ladies accompanying her. It would have been a little more bearable, the company, cramped as her cabin would be. On this ship now she is bored nearly to tears from sunup to sundown every day, barred from even the most menial of tasks that could upset her delicate womanliness and bereft of even a child to argue with. The crew tiptoes around her like she may crack to fine shards should they so much as offer her more than a fine morning, my lady, or the sun suits you quite beautifully, did you know, and Captain Grace loves nothing more than extended silences. In all honesty she only gets to talk to the ship’s mechanic, who, vulgar as he is, at least talks to her as he would anyone else on the ship. Sure, she can only stand so much of him at a time, and he’s been banned from breathing in her direction since the very first day of their expedition, but if she happens to be in the ship’s engine room as the same time as he is, then it would simply be impolite to ignore her.

Not that Valdez cares much for rules. Or her preferences.

Desperate times, et cetera, et cetera.

Knowing the deck will be too crowded for her to slip down below unnoticed, she settles down onto the old, rickety corner-desk with a sigh, cracking open her journal. Except for a string of blotty doodles along the edges, the paper is devoid of anything, as barren and numb as her mind feels. She understands, dramatic as it is, why so many sailors return from their voyages mad; why pirates and navies alike sail with crews. Even a day on the empty, open ocean without someone to talk to is maddening. She feels as if words flee from her vocabulary with every minute she doesn’t use them. What is there to do, on this stupid boat, besides sleep and eat and mope? She wishes she was allowed to steer the vessel, or watch from the nest. Not stimulating jobs, true, but jobs, at least. She has not sunk so low as to long for a deck-scrubber, but she is dangerously close. She can feel it. Another week at sea without much more than a loom and a needle and her mind will leap into the waves, she’s sure, abandoning her to the dull tedium of the stagnant clouds. The knowledge that she has three weeks left until they reach Lord Dyeus’ kingdom could make her break down into weeping, should she dwell on it long enough. By the time she returns to civilization she may no longer be suited for it.

A rustle sounds behind her, followed by a cut-off snort.

“…Somehow, I don’t think I’m at sea anymore.”

Annabeth yelps, nearly falling right off her chair. She scrambles upright, or tries to, but her stupid petticoats get caught up around her ankles and nearly send her toppling again, this time with even less of her dignity. It is only with sheer force of will that she manages to force her spine straight and upright in perfect time to meet the most gorgeous, sea green eyes she has ever seen.

“You drool when you sleep,” she informs him, darkly satisfied when the amused twinkle fades from his eyes in favour of a flat glare, hand coming up to swipe at his chin.

“I don’t suppose you could tell me where I am,” he mutters as the minutes stretch on.

Annabeth snaps her gaze back up to his face, wishing desperately her cabin had a second window.

“Captain Grace’s ship.” She swallows stiffly, collarbone suddenly itchy. “On route to the Kingdom of Lightning.”

The man’s face pales, long, calloused fingers twitching into fists.

“The ship carrying Princess Annabeth?”

Her mouth dries even further. “…Yes.”

“Someone needs to summon her, quickly. I have news. I — I come from Pirate Jackson’s ship — they threw me off board to drown.”

She knows, immediately, why he tells her this. Why his eyes go round with desperation, why his hands twist, why he has developed a sudden, scrutinizing interest in the view of the sea from outside her window, throat bobbing with every heavy suggestion.

But all hypotheses must be tested.

“Why?”

He meets her gaze, green eyes an exact mirror of the roiling sea around them; layered, stormy, and deeper than the darkest of trenches, wider than the night sky.

“Because they want to know her location. And I refused to give it up.”

———

next

[mochalate]

[3] new notification!

msby!atsumuxreader || w/c: 1.1k + 1 min of video (yes, video.) chocolate chip cookies are the way to a guy's heart. (everyone knows that!) a/n: wow I thought I wouldn't post anything this week, but one really good chocolate cake later, I felt alive. Perhaps Atsumu and I are more similar than I thought. 🔔Please use full screen for the video!

[<-chapter 2][chapter 4->] ||[start from intro][masterlist]

Back when you were still at university, you had a part time job at the campus gym. Legally, you weren’t allowed to call yourself a nutritionist at that point, but that’s what you did. It was never anything complicated— the hardest thing had been managing expectations. 

No, you won’t have noticeable muscle definition in a month. 

Yes, you’ll need quite a bit longer than a week to lose ten kilos.

That will give you results, but perhaps a more sustainable plan?

So yes, expectations. You’re in a career chock-full of them. You’re good at managing them. Even when it’s hard.

Or so you’d thought.

Can I keep starin’? 

(Could it really be that easy?)

With four words, Atsumu Miya had ripped open the top of that flimsy cardboard box you’d oh-so-carefully stuffed your expectations in, and now you were struggling to (convince yourself to) put them back in. For the last few hours, you’ve been fiddling with that metaphorical scotch-tape, not quite daring to believe he could be interested in you— and yet unable to let go of that fantasy.

Was it a fantasy? 

You can still picture his flushed-red face, the anticipation and anxiety in his eyes. It wasn’t the kind of look you expected from a flirty joke.

Or…

It's when Osamu has to stop you from trying to grab the piping hot handle of a cast iron pan for the second time that you realise you need to come back to your senses.

“Osamu,” you ask, timidly. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Atsumu.”

Osamu turns down the flame on the burner, and looks at you. His face is neutral— some people went as far as calling those droopy grey eyes of his ‘expressionless’, but you preferred to think of them as steady. Osamu always said it like it was. 

He’s going to give you the reality check you so obviously need.

“How stupid am I for thinking I have a chance with Atsumu?”

You brace yourself for a scathing reply. Perhaps, ‘Next time, I won’t stop ya from burning yourself.’ Or maybe, “That oaf? Sorry, the only thing he’s attracted to is balls. Volleyballs, that is.”

What he does instead, is sigh heavily, and a little exasperatedly. 

“Did ya two idiots finally figure it out?”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“You heard me,” Osamu says, turning up the flame once more. He stirs the simmering broth as he speaks. “He’s been actin’ stupid all week. And you’ve been actin’ stupid around him for a while.”

Oh. Oh.

There’s no way you’re ever putting those expectations away ever again, because that stupid box is all soggy at the bottom now. Soggy, because the raging mix of relief and happiness swirling around in your chest— the weight lifted off your shoulders because you don’t have to pretend anymore—  is making you tear up. 

Osamu hears you sniffle. 

“Aw, c’mon,” he says, tapping off the broth and setting the spoon beside the stove, “you know he isn’t worth cryin' over.” There’s a cheeky grin on his face, as he brings his large hands up to your face, wiping away the tears. “Want me to beat him up for ya?”

(You think he really might be your best friend.)

“You’re just looking for an excuse to!” You say, pulling his hands away as you laugh. 

He holds them up in mock defence. “Hey, two birds and all. Are you going call him?”

You’re already scrambling inside your purse. “I… think I forgot my phone at work.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I take it back, yer perfect for each other.”

“Hey!” You say it indignantly, but his words make you feel warm. Perfect for each other. “Can I borrow your phone? Would that be weird?”

“He’d make it weird,” Osamu scoffs. “Just go over.”

“I— I should bring him something.”

He makes an amused expression. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what.”

“Are you asking me for help?”

You make your best puppy face. “Please?”

Osamu sighs. “Well, he’s been complainin’ about those raisin bran cookies for weeks now…”

“I think it would be best if you don’t say anything. Just let it blow over,” the publicist says. She’s using the speakerphone, and her voice sounds far away. Atsumu can hear the clack of keyboard keys in the background. “I mean it, Miya. Log out of everything. No, uninstall everything.”

“Don’t ya trust me even a little bit?” Atsumu asks. He tries to sound teasing, but his heart isn’t in it.

“No,” she says bluntly. The call goes blank.

Atsumu collapses back on to his bed, legs hanging over the edge. He holds his phone up over his face, staring at the ‘call ended’ until the screen turns itself off, and then sighs heavily.

It’s not that he’s worried. She was right, it would blow over. But it would happen again. And he knows that each time, it would chip off a little piece of you; and eventually leave your edges jagged and rough enough to cut.

You’d resent him for it.

Atsumu unlocks his phone. It’s easy enough to find those pictures of you and Osamu again.

You look so happy.

He doesn’t think he was being delusional earlier, he knows there was something more than plain embarrassment in your eyes when you’d looked at him; and yet, he can’t shake the thought that he’s being selfish. 

The photo is cropped awkwardly, and he knows you and Osamu are close, but he can’t help but feel disheartened, and then hate himself for feeling like that. Were you two actually seeing each other? Was he meddling in his brother’s happiness, your happiness? What did he have to offer that his brother didn’t, save for the scrutiny of strangers?

The phone buzzes.

His eyes flick up to the notification bar. It’s a DM request from one of his new-found confidantes.

(Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do.)

In that brief moment, Atsumu understands his mother, and her panic at the state of the house when guests were imminent. He even understands, as he turns a couple of the trophies he has on display a few degrees to the left, why she would go around adjusting her many throw pillows in those last few seconds. That time seemed to stretch endlessly.

And then the doorbell rings, and time seems to somehow come to a stop and rush forward at the same time.

Atsumu stumbles on the carpet as he rushes to open the door.

And there you are.

“Hey, Atsumu,” you say, fiddling with the lid of the plastic container in your hands, “can we talk?”

(Wow, he thinks for some reason. I think those are cookies.)

Osamu walked her over because the publicist was calling around to find her, when she couldn't get a hold of reader on her number. He was worried about her going alone. What a prince. Divider @/cafekitsune Tweet images edited from here and Shokubutsu Zukan (by Tsutsumi Kakeru). Had a hard time finding the source for that image lol, it's been used in SO many fic headers. Each time I reverse image searched, If found a slightly less cropped version until it ended as the full page. and then i had to google translate this russian pirated manga site. next chapter will be the last + I will post a little bonus from the osamu POV. :)

[tacticaldiary]

Shaped With Love

PAIRING: Miya Osamu x Reader

SYNOPSIS: "Still with me?" He asks and it takes a second before she realises that a normal person would respond quicker. It's all static and white noise in her head, you can't blame her for being a little late to the game.

All that comes out is a half strangled hum of agreement.

NOTE: All fanfic is timsekip. I'm taking requests!

Masterlist

Over her shoulder, Osamu clicks his tongue.

"Stop hovering, you're distracting me!" She protests, trying in vain to cover as much of the embarrassingly misshapen riceball in her hands from view.

"I'm not even touchin' ya, baby." He snickers.

"Might as well be." Vaguely she wonders how the fuck shaping rice can be this hard. Five whole minutes later and she can still see the salmon filling peeking out. It's humiliating really, her only saving grace is the absence of Suna and his camera.

"That an invitation?" He says, voice low with a boyish charm that makes her pause and turn around questioningly. "Well if ya insist."

He crowds her back into the counter with a grin, warm hands running up and down her waist affectionately before they spin her back around. Her face flushes hot when his warm chest presses against her back, strong arms winding around her to rest on top of her own.

Caged in.

It's comfortable. Familiar, and despite the embarrassment that still faintly prickles at her, she finds herself relaxing, leaning back into him. He notices, if the silent laugh she feels vibrate deep in his chest is anything to go by.

Gently, he pries apart her hands to get a look at the mess.

There's a beat of silence. A low whistle.

"Damn, this is outta my paygrade, doll." He laughs, tightens his hold when she tries to wriggle out of it, affronted. "Quit that, I'll help ya out." Tossing...whatever that shape was to the side, he scoops some fresh rice out of the pot, the filling out of the pan.

"Ya gotta be gentle, yeah? Overworkin' the rice ruins it shape." He explains, guiding her hands to start shaping it into a triangle. It's coming together much better and far more quickly than when she's tried to solo it, but it difficult to pay attention.

Not when Osamu speaks in that quiet, patient baritone right next to her head, hot breath fanning across her ear. The hands around hers are calloused and much larger. Capable and steady as the guide her, and she fights the urge to tug them up to press a kiss to the pads of his fingers.

"Still with me?" He asks and it takes a second before she realises that a normal person would respond quicker. It's all static and white noise in her head, you can't blame her for being a little late to the game.

All that comes out is a half strangled hum of agreement.

"Good." Is all he says. She'd bet her savings that he's got that smug half smile on his face, amusement twinkling in his eyes. She's seen him make these before, it doesn't take this long. Osamu's dragging it out, the bastard knows exactly what he's doing.

"There, ya did it." He finally says shifting to brace himself on either side of her, chin hooking over her shoulder. "It's easy."

Miraculously, the onigiri he leaves in her hands is a perfect triangle, as good as the ones he packs to sell.

"Of course it's easy when you do it." She turns around in his arms. "You could do this in your sleep."

"It's just practice." He responds easily, watching her take a bite. "Not gonna share?" He raises a brow, smiling when she shoves at his chest playfully.

"No way, you're too smug-"

He presses close and kisses her, taking care to snake a hand behind to the small of her back so the counter doesn't dig into her when she leans back over it.

The food is forgotten, a pleasant warmth in her cheeks and a buzzing in her blood when he pulls away, staring at her in thought.

"What?" She giggles, a little puzzled.

"Nothin'." Osamu brushes their lips together with a smile. "Just thinkin' I should've made more fillings if I got to taste them off ya like this."

A smug laugh rumbles out of him as she buries her face in his shoulder.

Reblog, Like and Comment! Requests Are Open!

(28/08/2024)

[patriwoso]

always dancing when you’re around

ana-maria crnogorčević x reader

“You’ve had too much to drink.” Ana giggled as you cling onto her arms, stumbling around with a cheeky grin on your face.

“We just won the best trophy, EVER!” You exaggerate, grabbing Patri’s hand. “MVP MVP MVP.” You began to chant, the rest of the team joining in.

You hiccuped and held onto Ana’s waist to keep you stood up right. She was the sober one, not a fan of drinking, but you had taken this opportunity to drink and oh did you drink…

“Baby, I feel all fizzy.” You held onto her, sliding your arms around her waist to keep you on your feet.

“Fizzy?” She chuckled. “Y/N/N, do you mean dizzy?”

You hummed and giggled, looking up at her. “Kiss me” You bit your lip, you hands rubbing at her sides.

“That I can do.” Your girlfriend smirks, leaning down to break the height barrier and kissing you softly until you pull away for a breath of air.

“You taste like cola” You tell her, dropping your head on her chest.

Later that night you were laying in bed with Ana, you were dead to the world as you were slotted between the taller girls strong thighs, your head on her chest.

She scrolled through her Instagram feed, clicking on Claudia’s story to see a video of Patri and Cata doing shots, what Claudia didn’t realise is that she had also captured yours and Ana’s heated moment in the back of the video which had now been posted for the world to see.

And that’s where the talking started. You and Ana had almost been dating a year when the first idea of you as a couple had popped into the public eye, and the fans went crazy for it.

-

When the full time whistle blows, you shake hands with the Switzerland team. Your eyes however only looking for one person. Your person.

"Y/N!" You turn around and see Ana calling you over, stood with Mariona and Lia.

"Hey" You smile softly, just wanting to wrap your arms around the taller girl and tell her how sorry you are.

Spain beat Switzerland 5-1 to advance to the quater finals. You were happy for your team but the feeling was bittersweet as you knocked your girlfriend out of the tournament.

"I'm sorry." You smile sadly with a few tears pricking in your eyes, you didn't like to see Ana sad and knowing you scored 2 against her makes it worse.

"Don't be sorry my love." She puts an arm around you and you hug her gently, being careful with your actions as your relationship is well and truly kept out of the public eye.

You tug on the bottom of her jersey as you pull away from each other. "Can we swap?"

"Of course!" She smiles through her tears, pulling her shirt off and swapping with you.

You keep control of yourself to not look at her with the eyes that are kept away from the rest of the world. Mariona nudged you and giggled when she saw you trying hard to look away from Ana's body.

"I wish we didn't have to do that." You frown, looking at her sad eyes. "I just want to hug you so bad right now." You breathe out.

"Me too, but not here, love." Ana looks at you with her loving eyes, the ones filled with adoration saved especially for you. "I'll find you inside." she promises.

You nod as you continue to chat for a while, until Alexia comes over and tells you that the national team staff have asked for everyone to come into the changing room to get ready to head back to the hotel as you had a flight to catch.

-

Once you'd changed back into your travel wear you put Ana's jersey into your own bag to keep it with you so it wasn't to get lost with the luggage for the kitman.

You waited outside the Swiss changing room with Mariona, turning your head everytime the door opened.

Finally Ana emerged alongside a few of her teammates that you didn't know too well. She told them that they should go off ahead and that she would catch them up, wanted a few minutes with her 'club teammates'.

Mariona turned her back to keep watch for Vilda or any of the other spanish staff that would put an end to the meeting.

"I love you so much." You whispered as Ana held you close, rubbing her hands up your sides as she kissed you softly. "Keep messaging me everyday, even when you go back to Switzerland?" You ask, holding her hands in yours and fiddling with her ring, the ring you have the matching bracelet too.

"I'll message you everyday sweetheart." She kissed your forehead. "Go show the world what a true star you are yeh? I've seen the running for Golden boot. Your in the lead." She smirks. "I want the trophy on the shelf above the bed. Next to the photo of us on the beach."

"I'll try my hardest." You nod, going on tiptoes again to kiss her, melting into each others touch but being broken apart when Mariona coughs, the signal to tell you to split because someone was close by.

Ana presses one more kiss onto your mouth. "I could kiss you forever." She whispers. "I'll see you soon."

-

On the bus to the airport you sit besides Mariona. You could say you were best friends but she was more like your sister.

"What's the address for the base camp hotel?" You lift your head up from her shoulder.

"Um, it's on my phone somewhere. Sent it to Laia the other day. Why?"

"Ana just asked. Said she wants to send something." You shrug your shoulders a little to say you didn't know much more than that. "Can you send her it from yours?"

She nods.

"Thank you."

You rest your head back onto her shoulder and scroll through social media.

Someone had been keen to spying out the events between you and Ana after the game as photos and videos had made it to Twitter already.

Under a photo of you swapping shirts there were loads of comments saying 'Aww' and 'Barca friends!' but a few fans weren't silly and they knew what they were looking at.

One comment said: 'Reason 1482 to why I think they're dating! Watch Mariona giggling at Y/N when Ana takes off her shirt!🤣'

You smirked to yourself and slipped your phone away, trying to get a bit of sleep before the plane ride.

-

Why Ana wanted the team hotel address all came clear a few days later when a parcel turned up for you.

"Y/N, a package!" Vilda calls you over after a training session, handing you the brown box.

"Thank you."

You take the box up to your room and put it on the bed. "What did you order?" Mariona asks, laying on her bed in your shared room.

"Nothing" You tell her, using a pen to stabbed at the tape to open it up. "I think it's from Ana."

You open the box to see one of her hoodies, one she took back from you after you'd 'borrowed' it from her in the first place. You smile as you lift it up and put it onto the bed, seeing her Barca shorts from a few seasons back with '18' on the leg of them. She knew you loved to wear her old Barca stuff around the apartment and for bed sometimes.

You find a beaded bracelet with the letter of your name on, another with an A too. A small note telling you that she has the matching ones.

"You two make me sick, your so soppy." Mariona teases, flopping back the bed.

Rummaging through your bag you pull out your phone and try to call her. It goes to answer phone a few times then you realise she must still be travelling home to Switzerland.

Instead, you decide to leave her a message.

You

I love you Ana. Call me when you land, I miss your voice. ❤️

-

Spain get knocked out by the Netherlands and your on your flight home when you see the message you’ve been waiting for pop up on your phone.

Ana 👅👅

Flying back to Barca tomorrow morning babygirl, I’ll crash at yours and pick you up from airport xx

You giggle at the name of her contact, remembering when she had changed the name one evening on the bus home from an away game. You hadn’t changed it back.

-

The day after you arrive back in Spain, Ana packs your bags and takes you out for the day. All secrets. That’s what she told you.

She drives down the main road and you wonder where you are going to, she only told you it was a trip. The beach? A night further down the coast line of Spain?

“The airport.” You look at her, half excited and half very confused.

“I’m taking you away for a trip to my home. For our anniversary.” She smiles, looking very incredibly pleased with herself.

“Switzerland?!” You gasp a little, having wanted to visit Ana’s home country for so long.

-

The plane ride dragged a little, having only been home for less than 24 hours.

You got through customs and collected your bags, deciding to get a coffee to help keep you awake.

“Here” You pass Ana her coffee, taking a sip of yours before screwing your face up. “Oh my god, that’s fucking rank.” You whisper, keeping your voice down with the language you chose to use.

Ana chuckled, taking your coffee and switching it with hers. “Have this one.”

“Thank you, bebita” You used the spanish pet name she loved so much.

You stared into her eyes a little too long and you were snapped out of it when two teen girls came rushing over.

“Hi! We are big Barcelona fans, could we get a picture?” The tallest girl asks.

“Your my favourite player!” The smaller girl tells you.

You take selfies with them and sign their phone case before they rush off back to wherever they appeared from.

-

Within minutes your phone was blowing up with mentions and tags on your social medias. Photos of you and Ana sharing coffee and looking at each other with loving eyes had been stuck on the internet. Typical.

Comments:

- OMG THEY’RE SO CUTE

- They are defo dating!!!!!

- Y/N is wearing Ana’s jacket!! Look 3 posts ago on her feed - it’s the same one!

- WHERE IS THIS? 😱😱

“Hmmm, they know.” Ana mumbles into your hair, her chin resting on the top of your head.

“We did well keeping it quiet for so long”

-

You trip in Switzerland was almost over, one day left before you had to fly back to Barcelona.

“I want to post something.” Ana breaks you out of your thought as you search through the suitcase to find your pyjamas.

“Post what?” You look at her, finding the shorts you were after and getting changed.

“Us.. for today, our anniversary. One year is a big deal Y/N”

You nod, looking at her. “If your okay with that then I’m cool with it too.” You smile.

Ana took her phone out and made an Instagram post with a caption:

One year with my favourite girl❤️‍🩹

In the post she attached a few photos and videos along with it.

1. A photo of you walking up ahead, climbing a mountain in Switzerland.

2. A video of you both dancing in the changing room after the champions league final. Ana had put her arms around you and forced you to dance in the middle of the locker room.

3. A photo of you both with the UWCL trophy on the pitch after the match.

4. A photo of you asleep in bed, a blanket covering you and a sleep mask with false lashes she had stuck on the top to make it look funny.

5. A video of Ana giving you a piggy back on the beach. Keira had taken this video on a double date with her and Lucy.

6. A photo of you in each others jerseys after the world cup match, Mariona and Lia stood at your sides too after they had switched as well.

7. A photo of you asleep on Ana as she tried to read a book, your head nestled into her neck.

8. A photo of you and Ana on the beach. You had your hands over your breasts, as you had stripped from you bikini top, and sunglasses on your head. Ana sat behind you and peering over your shoulder making a silly face.

9. A video of you dancing in the rain outside the stadium in Germany at your game against Bayern.

10. A picture of you both kissing in the club after the UWCL win.

You smiled as the tag came up on your Instagram feed, reposting the post onto your story with the video of you dancing in the rain.

Giggling as you wrote a cheesy caption with

‘Always dancing your around 😘’

[angelofsmalldeaath]

movement — a.h.b.

cw: nothing i can think of for this one (apart from the usual fluff)

“you’re really bad at sneaking, you know?” his voice makes me jump. i push away from the doorframe, stand up straighter, and curse under my breath. 

he’s on the floor, starfished, face up at the ceiling with his eyes closed. his face looks so soft and tranquil, so relaxed that for a moment there i was sure he’d fallen asleep, nodded off while thinking like he so often does. 

“how d’you know i was sneaking?” i challenge. “maybe i just got here.”

it only takes him a second to click his tongue. “have been smelling your perfume for five minutes now.”

i smile to myself, walk in and stand over him. “and you couldn’t say that five minutes ago? you kept me waiting?” 

without opening his eyes, he shrugs. “kinda like it when you stare at me. especially when you think i can’t tell.”

his face turns from relaxed to smug, the corners of his mouth lifting up. quietly i roll my eyes and stick my tongue out even though he can’t see, and get on the floor next to him. 

the wood digs into my back until i find a comfortable spot, our arms touching, my head tilted towards his. the ceiling is the same plain beige it has always been. i wonder if he sees it differently—the colour and the shadows and the contrast. i wonder if his version is prettier than mine. 

“you’ve been in here for hours. i missed you.”

“it’s been hours?” he raises his brow and finally opens his eyes. “i didn’t realise…”

“did you fall asleep?”

he frowns, tries to look insulted even though we both know it’s likely. “no,” he sighs, “don’t think so at least. i was just…lost in thought. well no that’s not right—if i were lost in thoughts, i would have thought about something. heh, redundant, isn’t it?”

“baby, you’re rambling.” i turn to him, caress his cheek and smooth away the crease between his brow. “something bothering you?” 

the crease i’d worked hard on, reappears. “i don’t know. i feel…i don’t know. i feel…empty?”

“writ—”

“don’t say that word. i don’t have it, that’s not what’s happening!”

his insistence on not using that word—on never using that word—is endearing, and yet i keep it to myself. teasing is not what he needs right now. 

“right, get up!”

“what…?”

“come on,” i insist, tug on his hand, “get up. you need something better. there’s no point in lying there like a dead fish, is there?”

he glares at me and even that lacks conviction. ultimately he gives up, but he makes sure to groan and sigh as loud as possible before standing up. towering over me. 

“hi,” i smile, “there you are.”

“there i am,” he tries to smile. it comes out more as a grimace. 

“play something for us. what were you listening to before?”

he averts his eyes and hedges, a pink tinge taking over his entire face like he’s just come inside from being out in the sun. 

“my own music,” he mumbles. “i wanted to see what people liked about it so much, if i could recreate it.”

“you could bang pots and pans together and still create a masterpiece.”

“you’re biased!”

“and also right,” i retort and try not to melt when he places his arms around me. “those two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know? now,” i step to one side, wait for him to follow my lead. then step to the other. then i throw him a cheesy wink. “make me sway.”

he rolls his eyes but i don’t miss the tenderness that creeps in them, don’t miss the way his grip on me tightens. don’t miss the way he’s suddenly the one leading us, swaying to his own song. his voice is all around us, i rather like it like that. 

“what’s the point of this, can i ask?”

“does there have to be a point?”

for a moment, he’s silent. then he shrugs, twirls me around. “i guess not.” 

“and are you not having fun?”

“dancing to my own song?” he scoffs. “‘s arrogant.”

“and dancing with me?”

that gets at least a tiny smile out of him. it’s enough to make his eyes crinkle, to make his smile lines appear. and for a moment in the sunlit room, i fall for his smile again. 

“that’s lovely,” he picks me up, twirling us together and gently sets me down again. “maybe i should write about that. about you. about how when you move, i’m moved.”

“catchy,” i laugh. “maybe you should. i’d love to be a muse.”

“darling, you are a muse,” he smiles wider, then bends down to kiss me. “my perfect muse.”

buttery warmth spreads through my body, right down to the tip of my toes. “you give me too much credit. all i did was walk in here. and dance. if you want to call swaying at a glacial pace ‘dancing’.”

“and you give yourself too little credit,” he speaks, breathes more like it. if we weren’t standing so close, i wouldn’t have heard him at all. “you’re perfect for simply existing.”

[collapsedglasshouses]

Mine [Noah Sebastian x Singer!Reader]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Singer!Reader (female)

SUMMARY: You are Noah's girlfriend and helped him out during the concert, because he lost his voice. After the performance he wants to thank you.

WARNINGS: swearing, SMUT, MDNI, 18+, unprotected sex (P in V) (don’t do that), fingering, (let me know if i missed something)

A/N: Surprise! Two uploads today! This idea came to my mind because of I See Stars and Erra helping the boys out. If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging!

TAGLIST: @measuredingold (LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST)

Today had been entirely different than you originally thought. You visited your boyfriend of almost a year on tour and planned to stay in the background.

Being a well known singer in a band as well, you met the boys over a mutual friend, Jesse Cash. You had met Jesse around three years ago when he helped you and your band write on your new album and even featured on it.

Becoming friends with Jesse made it almost impossible to not meet the boys and you were more than pleasantly surprised of how well you all got along.

You almost immediately clicked with Noah, having this mutual interest in music and creating art while living similar lifestyles.

It almost came naturally how quickly Noah and you got closer. First it started with some hang outs that often included creating music together. Those hang outs quickly turned into self-named "friend dates" and before you really realised it, you were suddenly the "friends" who thought it was totally normal to occasionally make out and have sex.

It took you almost a year to admit your feelings for each other. But when you finally did, you did everything you could to find time for each other.

You two being singers of bands that had the opportunity to blow up over night, made it pretty hard to match schedules.

That is why you were more than relieved when you got a couple of weeks off and decided to join your boyfriend and your friends on their tour.

But when you arrived your happy mood quickly changed. After greeting Folio and Jesse, you asked were your boyfriend was but when you found him, he looked everything but happy.

"Hey, Baby. What’s wrong?" You immediately asked and left your suitcase next to the door before quickly wrapping your arms around him.

Almost instantly he returned your hug while sighing and rested his head against your neck.

"I'm so fucking done." You immediately noticed what the problem was. His voice was hoarse and rough.

"Oh no…" You muttered under your breath and rubbed his back.

"I couldn’t even sing yesterday. We had to cut the set short." He confessed to you and slowly let go of you.

"Why didn’t you tell me? I could have brought my special tea and some goodies to make you feel better, Noah." You asked him and caressed his cheek. A smile crept onto his face. "You know, I love you so much, Y/N."

"I love you, too."

The next couple of hours were filled with planning and even thinking about cancelling the show but when you all set down and ate, Jesse had an idea.

"What if we help you sing? You just sing what you can and we all step in when you can’t." He explained and Matt started to nod. You saw how stressed Matt was, trying to make the best out of the suboptimal situations that kept on happening this tour. "That would actually be a great idea. We can ask Devin, too."

"Y/N can step in, too." Jesse than suggested and gave you a careful look. You stopped chewing when you heard that sentence and immediately looked between Noah and Jesse.

This would have been a big step, considering the fan base didn’t really know about yours and Noah's relationship. It wasn’t like you were really secretive about it, a lot of them were even guessing it, since you always seemed to be near each other but you never really confirmed anything. If you would sing tonight, there would be little to no doubt that something was definitely going on, considering the fact that you had no reason to be there otherwise than being close with one of the boys.

Your eyes locked with Noah’s, who seemed to wait for a response from you while you waited for his. When he didn’t speak up, you cleared your through before taking a sip from you water.

"I could, if you want me to." You offered and felt how Noah's hand slipped onto your thigh. He gave you a reassuring squeeze before looking at the others. "I would love that."

Erra had finished their set ten minutes prior and now you started to sweat. You wouldn’t be on that stage until they played Just Pretend and for Dethrone at the end, but your heart was racing.

"Are you okay?" You heard a voice behind you and shortly after felt a hand on your shoulder. Jesse.

You quickly gave him a smile and nodded. "Yeah. Just nervous."

"You know, you don’t have to do it. Devin can step in for you. I can step in for you." Jesse tried to calm your nerves. He knew exactly why you were this nervous.

"No, I'll do it." You reassured him and he nodded. "It’s just scary, you know. It’s always been just Noah and I. We didn’t answer any questions that had to do with our relationship status, we just kept everything to ourselves and this is going to change now."

"You'll be great." Jesse answered you and you quickly gave him a hug.

When you sang the last note of the song, you felt relieve. The applause totally overwhelmed you, when you suddenly felt a hand sneak around your waist. It was Noah. His eyes were shimmering and his smile was the brightest you had ever seen. It had been a complete success.

You had to grin so much that your cheeks started to hurt. It wasn't like you never experienced something like that, but it just felt different to stand on that stage with your boyfriend.

You all bowed to the audience before walking ever so slowly off the stage. As soon as you were backstage, you all fell into each other's arms.

"THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!" Folio exclaimed while slightly jumping up and down. You still couldn't stop smiling. The crowd had been amazing and you had so much fun performing with your boyfriend that you forgot about your concerns entirely. Hell, if you had the option right now you would broadcast to the whole world how much you loved him.

"It was absolutely brilliant." Jolly praised the whole group. Jesse still held onto you before pinching your cheek. "You did so well, I had goose bumps." - "You are one to talk. You sounded so great."

Noah still grinned from ear to ear while looking at you all. "I had so much fun. Thank you all so much for helping me out."

"You did so great, Noah. Even with your not so healthy voice." You praised your boyfriend before giving him a big kiss. He held you close when you broke the kiss again.

When the group made their way to the lounge room, you and Noah walked behind them all. He didn't let go of your hands since you walked off the stage and right now you couldn't be happier.

Right when you were about to catch up to the others, you were dragged into the bathroom that was in the corridor before the lounge. You heard the click of the door, which showed you that it was locked.

"Noah, what-..." You tried to say but you were met with his lips on yours. You instantly felt goose bumps form on your body while he kissed you like you would disappear if he stopped.

"This is your reward, baby." He whispered in your ear and seconds later he softly bit your neck. You could feel how wet you got just from that.

He pressed you against the door and kissed his way back to her face. Before you could even catch a straight thought, he opened your pants and let them slight down your legs while kissing you hard.

"You did so well. You sounded like an angel." He almost moaned into your mouth while his hand found its way into your underwear. You moaned out his name when his fingers found your clit. Even though you already got used to his touches, this time felt so different to you.

His fingers began to circle your clit with swift motions and you felt like you were crumbling into little pieces right in front of him. Your hands found their way into his short hair. At times like this you missed his longer hair, because you couldn't grab onto his shirt hair that easily anymore.

"Fuck. I love you so much." You moaned and let your head fall against the door while you slowly started to shake under his touch.

You almost let out a scream when he suddenly stopped fingering you and instead lifted you onto the bathroom counter in a swift motion. You didn't have the time to react properly because he kissed you again.

"You don't know how much it turned me on, seeing you sing my song on that fucking stage." He groaned into your mouth and pulled your underwear down. "Showing every single one how proud you are to be my girlfriend."

"Fuck, I love being yours." You cried out and started to pull on his tank top to get it off of him.

He smiled at you when you finally got the shirt off of him. "Look at you, so needy." - "Only because of you."

You easily opened his pants, but when you tried to pull them off of him, he grabbed your hands and looked you in the eyes. "This is about you, my love. Not me." - "Please, Noah. I need you."

He stared into your eyes but you couldn't form a clear thought in your head and whined again. "Please, Noah. I haven't felt you in so long."

"Is this really what you want?" He asked you in a deep tone and you still could noticed how rough his voice was. You needed to take care of him later. "Please."

"God, you drive me insane, Y/N." He groaned against your mouth before stepping back to pull his pants and underwear down. You felt a rush of heat run through your body when you saw his hardened cock leaking with pre-cum. You needed him so bad, you almost cried out again.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, while you leaned a bit more over the edge of the counter to get closer to him. He ran a hand through his hair, before stepping between your legs and lining himself with your entrance.

He looked you in the eyes again while slowly sinking into you. You moaned out loudly at the feeling of him inside of you, causing him to press a hand over your mouth.

"Even though I love your voice so much, I don't think the boys should hear this." He whispered to you and you slowly began to nod.

His eyes never left yours as he slowly started to move his hips.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his mouth dropped slightly open. His heavy breaths turned in to quiet moans and you thought you were about to lose your mind at the noises he made.

"You feel so fucking good." He almost cried out, causing you to get goose bumps before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. When his thrusts became harder, you felt his hands squeeze your hips even more. You were sure he would leave bruises.

"I love you so much." You whined when you started to feel your orgasm form in your stomach. His head fell onto your shoulder and you felt him twitching inside of you. He also was close.

"I love you." He moaned in your ear and sent you over the edge with that.

You bit down onto his shoulder to contain your moans while you reached your high, clenching around him.

"Oh God." Noah moaned into your ear while his thrusts became more irregular before you felt his cum spread inside of you.

You both held onto each other, while you came down from your highs, before you started to giggle lightly.

"What?" Your boyfriend asked you and slowly pulled out of you, causing you to whine quietly at the loss of contact.

"What's so funny?" He asked again when he started to clean you up.

"You tell me to be quiet, just to almost scream." You teased him and pressed a kiss on his forehead, when he gave you a shocked look.

With that you jumped of the counter and reached for your clothes, when he grabbed your hips and turned you to face him.

"If you tease me again, I'll make sure, you're the one to scream." He threatened you.

"PLEASE DON'T. THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO WANT TO ENJOY THERE EVENING WITHOUT HEARING A FULL ON PORN FROM NEXT DOOR." You heard Ruffilo shout through the door of the bathroom.

Your eyes widened and you quickly got ready to leave, but before Noah could reach the door, you grabbed his hand and pull him towards you.

You kiss him deeply, before whispering against his lips: "Now, let's get you into bed. I'll take care of you."

"God, I love you."

[dreamwatch]

Exposure

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #24 - Prompt: Behind The Scenes | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: scars, ableism, facial differences seen negatively by others (a photographer) | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: emotional hurt/comfort, photoshoots

It was inevitable, honestly.

Their first professional photoshoot, not just Matty’s brother, Brian, with the family Pentax, shooting in black and white because it’s ‘artistic.’ Usually they didn’t put photographs on the flyers, just their logo, but once they moved to Indy a couple of independent labels came for a sniff of the goods and they wanted photos. Thank you, Brian, your services to photography will be forever remembered.

Once they were signed though, the label wanted professional photographs, which was fair, because honestly Gareth’s garage didn’t make the sexiest back drop. So anyway, here they were in a studio in Indianapolis getting their photographs taken, with a real professional photographer.

He doesn’t know a lot about this kind of gig, but he knows guys on TV get their makeup done all the time on account of the lights making their faces shiny, so at first it’s like, whatever. But then they’ve got them all lined up, real Metal Hammer pose, cloudy blue and gray backdrop like some extreme high school portrait, and the photographer is eyeballing him. Like hard stares. And he’s not looking him in the eye. He’s looking at his cheek.

Then the guy’s in a huddle with the makeup artist, and she’s looking at him and the photographers looking at him, and now they’ve got the assistant there. 

“What the fuck is the hold up,” whispers Gareth, and the boys mutter but Eddie says nothing because he knows. He knows and he’s dying a little inside.

Then the huddle is broken, and they’re getting moved around and now Eddie’s facing a different direction (‘we can just flip the neg’) but that’s not working for them either, and the studio lights are getting dimmed on his side, and his heart is racing, and the makeup girl is in his face, “Sorry,” she says, and she’s being gentle, likes she’s trying to be respectful, but she’s painting this shit on his face, on his neck, and he can see the shock, the way her eyes go wide when she starts to move the collar of his shirt and she realises it goes further down and that’s it—

“Can you—“ he snaps, ducking backwards.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…” she says all sheepish and apologetic, and she probably means it but he doesn’t care, he’s done, he wants out.

The photographer wraps it up, and he’s talking but Eddie’s not listening, he’s gone, out to the Jeff’s car waiting by the door, but they’re up in the studio playing rockstars, like they’re not driving to gigs in shitty vans, and he’s had it actually, fuck this.

He walks for an hour and then stops at Molly’s and has a few beers. And it feels stupid, at this point, like he’s over reacting, it’s a scar, and they’re in the image industry, and of course they’ll try to hide it. So what? So fucking what?

It’s dark when he finally comes up for air and heads back to their dank little apartment. The guys do that thing where they’re being casual but watching him out of the corner of their eye, but he shoos them away, he’s fine, thanks, nothing to worry about. Gets himself a sandwich and then goes to his room to sleep the day off.

He’s half asleep when he hears his door click, the dip of the bed as someone sits down. He opens his eyes, checks his watch, it’s a little after two in the morning, and when he flips over in the bed Steve Harrington is sitting next to him.

“Heard you had a day.”

“Who called you?” he asks.

Steve kicks his shoes off and slides up the bed, back against the headboard. 

“Gareth. He told me what happened. It fucking sucks.”

Eddie sits up, pulls himself next to Steve. “You drove all the way here to commiserate with me on my sucky day?”

“I drove all the way here to make sure you were okay,” Steve says, like it’s nothing, like Eddie can’t feel his heart squeezing tight at the words.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, needs to process it, what to say.

“I just wasn’t expecting it you know? Which is fucking stupid, and all, but you know, when have I ever been known for my smarts?” he jokes, half assed, because none of this is funny. “It’s just… like, it was so… they looked at me like, how do we fix this? How do we make this go away? Like I was ruining the shoot with my…” he gestures to his cheek, to the jagged red scar that runs all the way down his neck.

Steve listens, because he’s good at that, doesn’t butt in even when you know he’s trying to think of ways of fixing everything.

“And like the thing is, if we make it, it’s gonna be a thing you know? It won’t be the last time.”

Eventually Steve chips in. “I know mine are easier to hide, so I don’t like, know how it is, exactly, but… but people see them and then they’ll forget about them. People look out of curiosity, you can’t stop that, but then they just, they’re not bothered, you know? Like, your fans—“

“Fans?’ Eddie scoffs.

“Yeah, fans! They’re not gonna give a fuck, man. I know that doesn’t really help, not right now, but…  I think it’ll get easier.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Eddie says under his breath. He rolls his head to the side, making eye contact for the first time.

Steve kicks his jeans off and they climb under the covers, Steve’s back against his.

“You know when you’re rich and famous, first thing you need to do is get a bigger bed. This is ridiculous.”

Eddie can’t help himself, lets the giggles take him, feels Steve’s arm wrap around his waist and pull him close. He finds himself being infinitely grateful to his friends for knowing what he needed, and infinitely grateful for Steve Harrington.