#a woman’s bare back sends me into a fully black out I swear
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I’m breathless
#GODDDDDD MY KRYPTONITE#SOMEONE GRAB MY FAINTING COUCH#I’m sighing and biting my lip so HARDDDDDD#oh god oh I wanna [redacted] up her spine and [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] like……#gnawing on the furniture rn#a woman’s bare back sends me into a fully black out I swear
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lipstick - c.h.
warnings: 18+ smut, fem! reader, hickeys/marks, nipple play, top!reader, edging, many other dirty things <3 cassie is in love with reader's lipstick <3 i wanted to finish this bc i'm excited to post it so i didn't proofread 😬
a/n: i'm obsessed with cassie y'all... also i feel like this is a little smuttier than what i would normally write? do we like this or is it too much? let a gal know
y/n stares at herself in her bathroom mirror, focused on the deep red lipstick she was applying.
her girlfriend, cassie, had reserved them a table at one of the most lavish restaurants in the area. it was what cassie liked to call a "surprise date," although y/n was made aware beforehand.
as much as y/n likes to dress up for this type of occasion, she has never gone this far with her appearance.
she had picked out a princess-esque gown that flowed behind her as she walked, paired with black stilettos and her best batch of jewelry.
cassie is beyond obsessed with the way her girlfriend dresses herself up. her heart skips a beat seeing y/n look as angelic as she does.
"baby, are you ready to g- oh wow," cassie fails to form words when she sees y/n in front of the mirror.
the way y/n is leaning into the mirror over the sink makes cassie's legs feel weaker. she stares for a moment, not even noticing that y/n had responded to her.
"cass, you in there?" y/n brings her out of the fantasies she had already started dreaming of involving y/n and the sink.
"yeah, i just... you look beautiful."
cassie is absolutely in awe of the woman in front of her, almost struggling to believe that they were really dating.
"you're not so bad yourself, howard," y/n quips, sending a wink cassie's way.
cassie struggles to stand, and the feeling only worsens when she sees the dark red stain on her girlfriend's lips.
something about the way y/n looked wearing lipstick made cassie shiver. there was something so seductive about it that made something as simple as y/n talking especially attractive.
"i, uh, i really like that lipstick on you," cassie says shyly, trying to hide the fact that she is staring deeply at her girlfriend's lips.
"new shade i'm trying out," y/n simply replies. "wanna try some?"
the thought of y/n putting lipstick on her makes cassie feel like she has ascended directly to heaven.
"sure, yeah, i'd like that."
cassie is still somewhat shy; she still hadn't fully adjusted to the sight in front of her.
y/n pulls cassie closer and kisses her gently, resting her hands on her cheeks.
"there you go, now you can wear it too," y/n says nonchalantly, smirking at her awestruck partner.
without even thinking, cassie pulls y/n in again, much more intensely this time. her body feels like it's on fire, never quite feeling close enough to the woman in front of her.
"cassie, what are you do-"
y/n is interrupted by cassie unzipping her own dress, desperately trying to get it off her body.
"our reservation is in a little while, baby," y/n attempts to reason with cassie, to no avail. she tries to hide her stares, which is impossible with her girlfriend's body in full view.
"fuck the reservation."
cassie rests her body against the sink, the back of her head resting against the mirror.
she feels alive being exposed in front of y/n, as if it was her favorite drug.
and when y/n attaches her lips to cassie's neck, she can't help but let out an anguished whine.
y/n is both gentle and sloppy, kissing and sucking on cassie's pulse point.
"god, y/n..."
when cassie looks down, she sees the maroon color of y/n's lipstick smeared on her neck, and she swears she has never needed anyone so badly.
"mark me," cassie mutters, desperation evident in her voice.
without warning, y/n plants a kiss on cassie's nipple, leaving behind the shape of her lips.
"more," cassie breathes, barely keeping her composure.
the encouragement is all y/n needs, swirling her tongue around cassie's nipple and obscenely spreading the red pigment.
y/n bites and sucks on cassie's boobs in a way that is almost animalistic, a combination of lipstick and broken vessels creating a masterpiece on cassie's chest.
cassie is unapologetically a mess, running her fingers through her girlfriend's hair and throwing her head back against the mirror. at that moment, she didn't care if she broke it.
the noises she makes are both obscene and heavenly, a mix of gentle whines and almost-screams.
cassie can't help but start to push y/n's head down, wordlessly begging her for more.
y/n looks up at cassie, ceasing the contact between her mouth and her girlfriend's body.
"gotta use your words, cass," she teases, resting her chin on cassie's thigh.
"need you, y/n," cassie manages, already breathing heavy.
"need me for what, baby?"
"fuck me. need it so bad. please pretty, i'll be good, i promise..."
cassie is blabbering at that point, doing everything she can to get y/n's touch once again.
eventually, she wins.
y/n tantalizingly plants kisses on her thighs, dropping to her knees to be at eye level.
cassie practically melts into a puddle seeing her girlfriend on her knees in front of her. she's mesmerized, feeling like she was on a high she'd never come down from.
"stop teasing, y/n. need your mouth baby," cassie slurs, bucking her hips up from the sink.
y/n finally dives into cassie, roughly and swiftly sucking on her clit.
"fuck, y/n," cassie practically screams, simultaneously feeling the strongest form of desire and relief.
y/n briefly pulls away, lewdly licking her lips.
"you taste as good as you look, pretty girl," she mutters before continuing without skipping a beat.
cassie whines at her girlfriend's comment, already feeling the coil in her stomach growing at a rapid pace.
"god, y/n. gonna make me cum."
cassie relishes in the pleasure, her legs vibrating as she gets closer and closer to her orgasm.
as she's about to fall over her peak, y/n pulls her mouth away.
"what- what're you doing?" cassie whines, the loss of contact almost painful.
"not done with you yet, cass. can you hold on for a little longer for me?"
cassie could never object. as badly as she needed to cum, she needed more of y/n just as badly.
when y/n starts again, cassie is already close, gripping the porcelain below her.
when y/n slowly pushes a finger into cassie, she absolutely loses it.
"oh my god, just like that. feels so good, fuck. can't take much more."
cassie's words sound like a cocktail of nonsense, her brain seeming to give out on her the longer y/n fucks her.
"gonna cum on my face, aren't you, cass? i know, baby. let it out princess, you can do it."
cassie is practically crying out of pure ecstasy, her body giving out from under her.
"i, i'm gonna, can i?"
"cum for me, cassie."
cassie's vision completely blacks out, her head once again thrown back against the mirror. she grips y/n's hair, still seeing stars after several seconds.
cassie feels like her orgasm will never end, not fully used to the intensity of the feeling.
when she comes down from her high, she stares down at her girlfriend, who finally stands up from her knees.
y/n's lipstick is entirely smudged, and her dress was half off her body.
"fuck," cassie giggles, pulling y/n in for a kiss.
y/n's eyes widen in realization when she remembers they had entirely forgotten about their dinner plans.
"the reservation!" y/n says, exasperated.
"as i said," cassie replies. "fuck the reservation."
#cassie howard x fem reader#cassie howard x reader#cassie howard#cassie howard imagine#euphoria x fem reader#euphoria x reader#euphoria#euphoria imagine#wlw#cassie howard smut#cassie euphoria
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FAMOUS [PART TWO]
Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader
Summary: “Look—Sionis hired me to keep an eye on you and make sure nothing happens. So whilst I’m here, we need to set some ground rules down”.
WARNINGS: Death threats mentioned. Language/swearing. Annoying friend dynamic.
A/N: So here is part two!! Wooo!! 💛💛 this is a little bit longer and starting to build a little between Jason & our beautiful reader - also, more annoying friend Roy 🤣. Please note, there isn’t a posting schedule for Famous (just with how busy my work is right now - so please bare with me - I am sorry!!) sending all my love & please enjoy the next chapter - Elle xoxo (also big thanks again to @offendedfishnoises for your help with this - much love as always)
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CONFLICT OF PRIVACY
————
You watched Jason stomp from one room to the other through your usually very peaceful studio apartment, disrupting the very nature of your home. His presence set your nerves on edge, fraying the calmness to anxiety. You could feel a migraine starting to brew and you sighed loudly, rubbing your temples in languid circles. You prayed for strength in this troubled time, you couldn’t sack him before he’d even started...could you?
Jason came to a stop in front of you, his black combat boots crumpling mud and leaves into the pristine white tiles. His fringe flopped down into his sparkling eyes and heaved a deep sigh. He didn’t even know where to begin, the problems were endless. Nothing was safe. No. It all had to change, now.
“We’re going to have to install a lot of personal cameras in and around your home…and we’ll probably have to restrict mail and parcels coming into you too—it’ll all have to be vetted before it gets to you”.
Wait? What? Was he serious?! He was going to read everything before it got to you?!
“Woah!! Hold on a second there—just wait a damn minute! What about my privacy?!”.
Jason scoffed incredulously. Were you serious right now? Did you really have no idea of the kind of trouble you were in? Had Sionis really not told you?
“You are in serious danger”.
You scowled, resting a hand on your hip, “Maybe so but I don’t exactly want you rummaging through my things! My mail!! There—there—”, you swallowed a little nervously, fighting the blush rising to your cheeks, “—Could be personal items!!”.
“Like what?”, Jason glowered back.
He couldn’t be that stupid could he? You looked at him, eyebrows raised high on your forehead. He didn’t budge an inch, glaring hotly. You flushed again, “None of your damn business! That’s why they’re called personal items!!”.
Jason bristled at your uncooperative nature, huffing out a large puff of air, “Whether you like this or not, you’ve got to listen to me, I’m here to keep you out of trouble”.
“Trouble?! What do you mean by that?!”.
Trouble?! Did he mean that? You’d never done anything bad your entire career. You’d been the golden girl— always. You prided yourself on your good morals and nature. Even when your dress had caught on the red carpet that one time and flashed your pants, you’d still managed to play it off. Thankfully. Probably something Roman did, but still. It was besides the point. You glared at Jason, unable to believe the audacity of the man. You’d be calling Roman the second Jason was out of earshot. How could he hire him? Ugh.
Taking a deep breath, Jason skimmed a hand through his unruly hair feeling the tension radiating off him. He knew this would be tough but this wasn’t what he was expecting at all.
“Look—Sionis hired me to keep an eye on you and make sure nothing happens. So whilst I’m here, we need to set some ground rules down”.
“I’m a fully grown woman…this is all completely unnecessary!”.
Jason barked out a laugh, “Yeah—a fully grown woman with death threats hanging over her head…do you know the things they’ve threatened to do to you—do you?!”. He’d never read anything quite as awful as the things in those letters, the tweets. Vile. Disgusting. How anyone could—he didn’t want to dwell on it.
A breath caught in your throat, threatening to choke you. There was a wild, unreadable look in his eyes and it silenced you. The threats must have been disturbing to cause that sort of a reaction. You shook your head timidly.
“N-no…”.
Guilt swamped him immediately. You didn’t deserve that. He’d promised Sionis he wouldn’t divulge, knowing it’d scare the hell out of you. He’d fucked up already. Shit. He swallowed slowly and slipped his hand into the pocket at the front of his jeans.
“I’m sorry…I know this is tough and it’s a lot to take in but, things are gonna have to change. I’m going to have to be by your side, 24/7…this is really serious Y/N”.
You nodded softly, looking down at your bare feet. Your deep purple nail polish was chipped. Almost a reflection of your inner feelings.
“Okay”.
Jason internally smiled. He’d made some sort of ground with you. There was a short silence, filled only by the muffled sounds of the birds from outside.
“I—I made up a room for you…third door on the left at the end of the corridor. I cleared it all out and put fresh bedding on for you”.
“Thank you”, Jason bent down and grabbed his duffle off the floor, “‘ppreciate it”.
The space between you both was awkward, filled with unspoken tension and silence. Jason wanted to say so much but he didn’t know where to start. This wasn’t the best first start, he wanted it to be different. Better. Christ, he’d dreamt of meeting you plenty of times before this. None of it ended like this. He started to flush at the thought, pink creeping up his neck. There was no way he could let that interfere with his work.
“I’ll—”.
“I’m—”.
You both laughed awkwardly, eyes meeting briefly. He saw a hidden glitter there. No photo would ever do you justice.
“I’ll see you later Jason”, you gave him a slight smile before disappearing down the hallway into your study, closing the door behind you quietly.
Jason looked up towards the ceiling and closed his eyes in frustration.
“Fuck me”.
————
After he’d finished unpacking his belongings, Jason flopped back onto the bed in the centre of the room, sighing as he hit the softness of the pillows. This was way more comfier than his bed at home. He sank further back and closed his eyes, the mattress easing the pain in his lower back. Just as he felt himself drifting into a relaxed state, his phone chirped to life, vibrating obnoxiously along the bedside table. He grunted and reached over to grab it, rolling his eyes at the caller ID. Harper. God. He couldn’t catch a break. How could he be so unlucky in such a short space of time. What did this idiot want?
Jason slipped his finger across the screen and sighed, “It’s not even been 2 hours, what could you possibly want already?”.
“2 hours? Is that it? Feels way longer—must be missing you more than I thought…So, come on, gimme the gossip…how was the first day? Have you managed to keep your cool or have you blown your load already?”.
“You’re a fucking idiot”, Jason sighed, feeling the embarrassment and annoyance curdling in his stomach.
Roy laughed loudly and grinned, “Ok— so, what I’m reading from that response is, things haven’t gone to plan”.
Jason rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripped from his voice, “Of course they haven’t! I’ve come in and completely disrupted her life”.
“For good reason”.
Jason sighed, he wished you had the same view, “She doesn’t see it like that”.
“Well no, she won’t”, Roy laughed at Jason.
“You’re not really helping here”, Jason’s voice was strained with frustration.
Roy stunted his cackle, “So…what happened?”.
“She just wasn’t very receptive of me…or the security plans”.
“Maybe she's playing hard-to-get”, Roy teased playfully.
Jason grunted, “Roy, this isn't a rom-com”.
“That’s what you’re saying now but before you know it…look Jay, women aren’t complicated Jay, just be yourself”.
Jason shook his head emptying of any wandering thoughts, “This is just a job, a very irritating job”.
Roy scoffed, “Yeah? If it was just a job, why are you so bothered? You’ve handled clients worse than her”, he coughed deeply covering up the next word “Wilson”.
“Please”, Jason shuddered at the thought of Slade, “Don’t remind me of that Karen”.
Roy cackled deeply, “I think you rather enjoyed it”.
“More than this job”, he growled irritatedly, “She just keeps whining about ‘her privacy’ like I’m going to go through all her shit. I don’t wanna raid her stuff, I’m just here to do a job and to do that I have to check things…surely she understands this?!”.
“Jason…”, Roy put his hand over his forehead, sighing, “You’re so dense sometimes…”.
“What? What do you mean?!”.
Roy laughed, unable to believe he was about to explain this to his best friend, “Jay…she’s a single woman, what do you think she means by privacy…or her private things…”, he internally face palmed. He wasn’t sure if Jason was usually this stupid or if his little crush was blind siding him, “Bet she fucking flipped when you said ‘bout installing personal cameras…I mean, come on Jay…don’t you ever think?”.
Jason sat up on the bed suddenly and let out a strangled sort of whimper, “Roy—I am going to choke on my foot if I keep talking to her—I can’t—”.
“Christ Jay!”, Roy cut over his friend loudly, “Just act normal around her!”.
“You say it like it’s easy!”, Jason ran his fingers through his hair, hoping the movement would somehow soothe him.
“We both know I’m a bigger hit with the ladies Jay-bird”, Roy smirked, lightening the mood instantly.
Jason sighed deeply before looking at his closed bedroom door. He knew he’d have to leave shortly, do some rounds of the place and maybe go out to get you both some food, “I need better friends”.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about Todd—I’m the bestest friend you’ll ever have—or need”.
“Harper”.
“Yeah?”.
“What kind of food goes down well with—you know—”.
“Fucking hell Todd”, Roy laughed unable to contain it any longer, “Get her a burger from Pauli’s, bet she hasn’t had one of those in years”.
————
Jason knocked on your study door, waiting a while but received no answer. The take out bag swung low in his other hand, the greasy smell wafted up his nostrils. Enticing. His stomach rumbled again and he scoffed, how could he possibly still be hungry? He knocked again before taking an executive decision and pushing open the door. If you screamed at him, he’d just have to take it. Hopefully you weren’t doing anything too private in here. He shoved the thought down fast before it consumed him. The sight that met his eyes melted his heart. You were slumped over your computer desk—fast asleep, the blue light casting a beautiful glow over your skin. You looked heavenly. Better than any ad or poster he’d seen of you. You looked so natural. Fuck—his heart skipped a beat—or two.
From what Jason could tell, you’d been working on another song, papers scattered all around you, a pencil still lodged behind your ear. He wasn’t sure how you pulled off both sexy and adorable but you did.
Your laptop was old, the colour faded at the corners. If he was forced to guess, he’d say this was your old college laptop. A worn out sticker was stuck on the side, he could barely make it out, not without getting closer and disturbing you.
He dropped the take out bag down onto the table beside you gently, so as not to wake you and then tiptoed back out, silently closing the door behind him. He’d had enough experience of that sneaking out of Wayne Manor in the middle of the night with Dick. Jason smirked to himself as the memories flooded back.
He just hoped the take out would go down well and you’d realise that he was here to stay, but, more importantly, it didn’t have to be all that bad between the pair of you.
————
#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#red hood x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd x reader insert#red hood imagine#jason todd fanfiction#red hood smut#red hood x reader insert#red hood fanfiction#bodyguard!jason todd x reader#bodyguard!jason todd x singer!reader#Jason Todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#red hood x you
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Chapter 23: Not the Sharpest Lightbulb in the Crayon Drawer
The next morning, Molli stood on the doorstep and adjusted her outfit, trying to look presentable. She changed her body color to be her more natural color of such a deep red, it almost looks black. She wore a blue jumpsuit with a gold belt with a rose buckle. She hesitated a moment and knocked on the door. A few moments went by and the door was opened, revealing a surprised Waldo. The two stared at each other for a moment, “Holy moley! Molli! I haven’t seen you in forever! Does M know you’re here? Lemmie get him for you..” she tried shushing him frantically as he called out for his brother. Both M and Carmen came to the door, wondering what the commotion was, and one look from M had him rolling his eyes, “What the fuck are you still doing here?” Molli straightened up and smiled nervously, “Well, I was just about to tell your brother here about me thinking of joining… here. As a henchman-woman.. person.” Wally raised an eyebrow, “You were?” M crossed his arms, “Bullshit. You still have that hit on Red.” Carmen looked at M a bit surprised, “She what?” Molli waved her hands defensively, “No no I swear! I cancelled that contract. After I got free from that spear, I came over and saw how happy everyone, like Skaedfryd, was to be here! I mean, if people are happy, the boss must be doing something right.. right? Oh.. and I wanted to give this back too. Its still so cold, its weird..” she handed the spear back to M and put her hands behind herself, twisting anxiously. “I wanted to have a fresh start, I promise to try not to be a pest or a weed to you. I want to help out.” M snatched the spear and leaned on it like a wizard staff. “I will say it again. I do not fucking like you and I want you to get off this fucking island.”
Carmen puts her hand on his arm, making Molli’s eye twitch for a brief moment, “I personally think we should give her a chance. I mean, if we don’t help her out somehow, she could go back to doing worse things than we do. First sign of broken trust, I’ll let you send her off. How’s that?” M narrowed his eyes at his ex, putting the spear tip to her throat, “One whiff of deception from you and I will make sure you never find every single piece of your body to stitch back together..” Molli gulps and gingerly pushes the spear away from her neck, “Good to know, lover boy. So when can I start?” Carmen shows her inside, and has her follow her to her office. M gripped the unicorn’s arm and whispered, “Keep yer door open. I don’t want you alone with her. I don’t fully trust her yet.” She smiled and patted his hand, “You worry too much. I’m sure it will be fine.” M growled as the two girls went up to her office, the door stayed open much to M’s relief. Wally scratched his head, “Did I miss something?” M shadowed the spear back to Lekir’s room and he shoved a cigarette into his maw. “Red’s bleeding heart is gonna land her in more trouble than she can handle.. she’s already dealing with different body parts and powers up her ass, I don’t think she realizes she still fucking vulnerable. It aint like those superhero movies where they automatically good at things. Example, she took weeks to learn to walk again without aid. These powers?? She’s NEVER had magic. Her horn is.. is as good as shattered. You knew that, but it got worse when you were gone. Its completely dead in the water.” Wally rubbed his neck as M paused to take a drag. “We tried to do simple shapeshifting the only way I know how. She could barely muster the focus to grow a single hair on that piece of metal. She couldnt even change the color. She needs training and actual progress before she’s as invincible as she feels. And with Molli showing up last night and tellin me she has a hit on Red? Then joins us the next day? It don’t taste right.” Wally sighs, “Maybe she’s being truthful though. You may not see or even want to admit it but I can see you are happy here. Maybe she wants that. And who knows, maybe you can get together again. Don’t let the past breakup ruin the future bonds. Its an open opportunity to move on and possibly gain a new friend if anything.” M strode off, grumbling.
He passed Lekir who had watched from the other room, but didn’t get to hear much. “So, who was that, Bugboy? And why does she look familiar?” M groans and rubs his face, “She’s…. My ex. I stabbed her last night with your spear.” Lekir nodded, “So thats why it was returned with dirt and blood on it.. so if you stabbed her, why did you welcome her in?” M turned and snapped, “I wasn’t the one to welcome her. Yer fuckin wife and her fuckin bleedin heart did. And I stabbed her because she is a crazy dumb bitch who is horny for me seven ways to tuesday.. last night she said she was assigned a hit on Red but then this morning said she had a change of heart and canceled it to become better like me.” She gave a concerned look at him and at the ceiling where Carmen and Molli were in a meeting. Lekir sighs, rubbing her temples before looking back at M. “She's gonna turn on us one day you know that right? She's just waiting for the right moment. And if she is anything like you powerwise, Carmen can't win with her current state, neither can I because you can overtake me. You need to tell me and the others exactly what you know about her in its entirety. Leave nothing out.”
M rolled his eye with a groan, “Fine.. when Red gets out of her meeting I’ll call the rest of the group and give a full situation report briefing without my ex present.” Lekir nodded, “I definitely think a sit-rep is very much needed. Especially that threat of a hit. Why did she tell you about the hit? Didn’t she know you were security here? Or did she not read her own report?” M snickered, “Thats the thing, she does things half assed, probably only saw the target and location and when I saw her last night, she thought I had the same job and spilled the beans before I told her what I am here. She really isn’t too bright. She’s durable, like me. Hard to fully kill, but her powers are plant based and not very expertly controlled. Her emotions get in the way and her attacks are weak. She does excel in the knowledge of poisons and many of her thorns are laced with a decent cocktail. But she has never been known to finish a job.” Lekir raised an eyebrow, “And her job is to kill the world’s second biggest pacifist next to her himbo husband..”
Carmen came down from her office after supposedly showing Molli her room. “Hey Lekir. M, mind if you gather the other agents, other than Molli to the war room, I need to give a bit of a sit-rep briefing for everyone asap.” Lekir and M looked at eachother with a slight air of relief. Lekir turns to Carmen, “Please tell me we didnt just adopt a stray cobra..” Her wife chuckled, “More like a cartoon coyote. She’s still in my office, asleep.”
Lekir tilted her head, “What do you mean asleep?” The mare smirked, “I left my coffee on the desk unattended as a test. I had my back turned while at my file cabinet, you know, beside the mirror? I saw her put something in my coffee, and stir it with my spoon I had near it. She then licked the spoon. And now she is face-planted at my desk.” Lekir furrowed her brow with concern, “Is she a complete moron?!”
M lit his cigarette, “Its like I’ve been trying to tell you two. She COULD be formidable if she wasnt a dumb bitch.” Carmen smirks, “I think we should stick to my plan of treating her with kindness, though heavily restrict her from the more advanced things like heists and access to 079 fully. I’ll tell more at the briefing.” Carmen headed off to the war room when Lekir suddenly pinned M to the wall, holding an ice blade to his face, “You better handle this because if she ever succeeds in even hurting Carmen, I will make you pay! I spent 6000 years regretting not being able to save my husband from death. Make sure this is plenty preventable.. and prevent it before I prevent you from ever finding your head. Got it?!” M growled and shoved her back, straightening out his leather jacket, “You say this like I wasn’t going to already! News flash! You ain’t the only one who would go absolutely apeshit ballistic if Red were hurt! Now back the fuck off so I can do my fucking job!” M snorted as Lekir stormed off, brushing past Carmen who had a concerned look.
M flicked his cigarette angrily and checked in on Molli, who was still face-planted and out cold with slight foam to the mouth. He still felt her neck and wrist, disappointed at feeling a pulse but glad he didnt have to dispose of a body. He was about to reach for the coffee to pour it down the drain and his eyes caught on some of the paperwork they were working on for her hiring. Looking closer he noticed her signature, “Mali Negatta” and hmmed. He’ll need to ask when she had changed her name. She groaned a bit trying to lift her head. He remembered nights she used to get drunk off some of her lighter concoctions because alcohol didnt touch them as far as drunkenness. He sighed and shadowed a handkerchief to help clean her face from the drool and foam. He pulled her back and her head somewhat rolled on her shoulders, she slow blinks her eyes open as he gently cleans her face. “Hey you.. we should totally bang on the deshk here.. office sexssis soooo sexy..” she slurred. He paused silently and took the coffee cup, “Here, have some coffee, sober up..” he knew full well what she did, and wanted to know if she even remembered. Which she did not and eagerly took the cup and downed the whole thing. After a moment, she hiccuped and face-planted on the desk again. “Oooh I smell a new fuckin betting pool with this one.” He chuckled, patting her back and leaving her there to set up the meeting. “Fuckin lightweight.”
The meeting was very detailed, strategies were put into place and betting pools were cast, a bingo sheet for the kinds of attempts, and how she would fail, and how long until she either quits trying to kill or quits VILE itself. It was a mix of extreme seriousness and mockery. They knew the severity of the situation if she should actually succeed. But given her track record already, that severity was guarded by cautious ridicule and vice versa. And thats how it went from then on, although many heists were placed on hold while they tried figuring out a new cure for Wally’s condition.
Carmen searched all her books on afflictions and curses, minerals and crystals, and even diseases and illnesses. She felt she barely had anything on the subject and the internet didn’t come up with much either. She shut the large book she was looking in and sighed, taking off her purple glasses to rub her eyes. “Alright..” she said to herself, “Looks like I’ll need to take a trip to Canterlot.. they may have the book I need in the royal library. Might get a new hat too while I’m there..” She was sad when her hat had fell into the acid during the whole stone pillar incident but it was better than losing her life. She headed to the mech lab where M had been hooking up some new device to the chronoskimmer. She didn’t see him around and checked in with 079. “I haven’t seen the rude one today, he’s probably being harassed by that stray twig you brought in.” Carmen tsked, “You shouldn’t say things like that! Yeah she’s pretty thin but you dont know if its her metabolism or an eating disorder! I’m working on helping her gain a bit of meat either way. But I’m not judging her. Now can this thing still take me to current day Canterlot?” The ai sighed as if asked a huge burden, “Does Canterlot exist?” Carmen raised an eyebrow, “Yes.. thats a silly question.” The ai just looked at her, “Exactly my point. Just set the dials and be on your way..” Carmen wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes, “Just tell M that I’m popping out for a book. And I’ll be right back.” She set the dials to open a doorway to right inside the castle, by the stained glass windows. She’ll be able to get to the library with ease from there providing no guards had seen her. She stepped through and closed the doorway back, knowing that she’ll be able to dial it back if she needed on her phone. She looked around and stood back, admiring the stained glass craftponyship of the multiple pieces. “I need to come back for one of these eventually. I always forget how beautiful they are in person.” She mused quietly to herself.
#mlp oc pony#carmen pondiego#ask blog#story update#ao3 fanfic#marehem#Lekir#Molli#Mali Negatta#Canterlot
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He’s New to the Game
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Aaron Hotchner
Warnings: unfinished smut (18+) Minors DNI, dom reader w/ two bottom men, begging
Summary: Hotchner is a brat so Steve is more than happy to show what a good boy really looks like.
a/n: i am literally a lesbian and have no shit clue how men work. this is pure fiction. also it’s short cause it’s been sitting in my drafts for too long.
Main Masterlist
“They’re staring.”
“Let them.” You reply up bothered as you sip on your classical margarita. The cold glass slowly dripped onto the bar’s counter.
“How long do you time until they come over?”
Natasha asks from the other side of the bar with a smirk as she pours your a shot. You will admit your eyes drink in the woman in front you. She red hair is now a healthy blonde cut just above her shoulders. The blazer she wore left little to imagine with the lack of shirt she had on.
She looks good enough to eat.
“Give or take?” You ask jokingly as your eyes look back up to hers. She sends you a wink when they meet.
“Give or take.”
“I’d say they are headed over right now.” You reply with a smirk.
She shakes her head and is somewhat shocked. Both men who could not seem to take their eyes off you since you sat at the bar are strutting their way towards you. Oh what a sight you should have turned to see.
“Have fun.”
“Oh I will,” you wave with a wink.
You can feel the heat that come with both men as they sit beside you. You appreciate the cologne they wear on their wrists. The man on your left looks just as delicious as the man on your right.
“Babygirl, you know you can’t look that good and not expect us to come running.” Steve flirts as he takes his third shot of Asgardian mead.
You laugh at Steve’s comment, as you look at the hand resting on your left. Hotchner’s hand is wrapped around a cold glass. His sleeves are rolled up to his forearms and he looks hot as hell. “New look?”
You can almost see a smile on his lips but it’s gone just as fast. There’s a growing need between your thighs when you fully comprehend who you are surrounded by. These two sexy men, who are dying to fuck you.
Or get fucked by you.
“What do you say we get out of here?”
-
“Beg for me.”
Both men on waiting patiently on their knees, stripped bare a pair of lace panties barely covering their crotch. If only America could see their Golden Boy and the BAU could see their leading chief.
“Both of you,” you continue. Standing tall in your black stilettos with a strapped dick between your thighs… it’s waiting for one of their mouths. “Now.”
“Please.” Hotchner says pathetically and weak. He could fool you into thinking he didn’t want to be here, yet his erected cock says otherwise.
“Oh Hotchy. You are so cute.” you taunt squeezing his cheeks together to get him to look at you. You don’t mind the new hair on his face. In fact, you itch to feel it between your thighs later.
“Let Stevie show you how to truly beg.”
“Please, Y/N. I want whatever you want to give me. I’ll be a good boy. Please.” Steve stares at you like you’re the only thing in the world.
“Ya see Hotchner?” You cut off Steve and turn to look at the man kneeling.
“That’s how you beg.”
“Thanks for the lesson.” Hotch says flatly.
The FBI agent is just handing over the spot of getting fucked and praise over to Steve with his unneeded attitude. Handing over the rewards on a silver platter. The second he says it you can sense Steve’s excitement. Steve has always had a praise kink so he knows he’s in for a ride.
“Oh baby.” You mock letting your hand fall onto the agent’s neck. You can feel his heart rate increase and there is a smirk on your face. Applying pressure on the sides of his throat just to give him a taste.
“Lay on the bed, Hotchner.” Aaron makes his way onto the bed, not bothering to say ‘Yes, Ma’am’... He’ll pay for that later.
You pretend to not notice Steve’s face at your instructions aimed at the man next to him. Hurt. Still, you have high hopes he will still be good; you throw a wink at a hopeful Steve when you check out his panties. Steve almost moans at the attention. He’s always been the neediest and the horniest.
Steve knows how things work when you’re in charge, Aaron is still new.
His cock is throbbing; there is precome soaking the soft material retraining his cock. His thighs are huge, even when they’re relaxed. His tone stomach makes your mouth water and your lips tingle.
“Stevie,” you hum softly, stroking the false cock with your free hand.
He stands a little straighter.
“I want you to be my prime example.” You swear you see his cock twitch. “I want Hotchy to see what good boy can get if they follow the rules.”
lmk what you think with a comment, ask or reblog :)
#preferably nomad steve rogers#and bearded hotch ofc#char: steve rogers#char: aaron hotchner#type: smut#wlwloverwrites#wlwloversfics#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x reader smut#aaron hotchner smut#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x reader smut#nomad steve rogers smut#marvel#criminal minds
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In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...
Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.
A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.
This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.
Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D
I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.
Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.
Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.
It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.
It's fine. It's going to be just fi-
The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.
I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.
No.
Please no.
He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.
I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.
What did I do to deserve this humiliation?
I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.
"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.
He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.
"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.
"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.
I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...
"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.
I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."
"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.
"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.
"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."
He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.
Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.
Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.
"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.
"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.
Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.
A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.
He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.
"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.
"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.
I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.
"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"
We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.
"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.
"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.
"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.
"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.
I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.
"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.
"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"
"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.
Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.
It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.
It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.
I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"
I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"
"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.
Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.
"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.
"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.
I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.
Damn these amazing architects.
I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.
"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.
I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.
"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"
I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.
"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.
She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.
"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.
"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."
We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."
"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.
"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.
I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.
I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.
"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.
"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.
"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.
"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.
I need to make more food.
Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.
"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.
"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.
She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.
Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.
"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.
Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?
"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.
Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.
"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.
The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.
"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.
I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.
The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.
The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.
"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.
"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.
They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.
"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.
The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.
I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.
I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.
"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.
I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.
He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.
"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
What the fuck am I doing?!
I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.
That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.
And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.
The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.
"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.
I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.
"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.
Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.
Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.
He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.
I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.
After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.
I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.
I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.
"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.
I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.
Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.
He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.
I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.
Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.
---
Kuroo's POV
"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.
What is it with women and slapping me?
"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.
"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.
By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.
Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.
"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.
I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.
But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?
"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"
With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.
I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.
I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.
Mum would've loved her.
This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.
Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.
I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.
With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.
"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.
"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."
---
Your POV
Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.
His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.
Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.
"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."
Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.
After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.
"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.
"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.
I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.
"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."
A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?
Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz
Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3
#racer!kuroo#haikyuu x reader#haikyufics#kuroo tetsuro scenarios#haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines#kuroo x you#kuroo tetsuro x you#kuroo tetsurou#haikyu angst#haikyuu drabbles#haikyu x reader#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu au#kuroo angst#kuroo comfort#kuroo fluff#kuroo au
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Moment In Time
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.
Warnings: Nothing for now unless I missed something.
Chapter 1
* * * * * * *
Music plays in your ears as the surrounding area blurs past you. Taking yet another lap around the overly large fountain, you feel the smallest drop of sweat trickle down the side of your head.
Running for two and a half hours seems to finally be yielding results.
You slow down some and a quiet, sarcastic, chuckle falls from your lips when another group of joggers passes by. They’d gotten here an hour ago and they were practically dripping sweat.
With a shake of your head you finish the lap in a matter of minutes, stopping afterwards and taking your headphones out. You take a few deep breaths as you look around.
The New York sky is as blue as it always is this time of year. People stroll by about a yard from where you stand, the streets and sidewalks bustling as usual, a few other runners on the same trail you just took.
A contented sigh leaves your lips.
For the first time in years, a calm peace washes over you. It’d taken you years to come to the decision to stop working, followed by a few months to mentally settle into your “retirement” as you’d been told it was.
The world doesn’t exactly need you anymore, earth’s mightiest heroes are doing all the saving and protecting now. Some of them you trust with your life while others you haven’t even met. All in all, you believe they’ve been getting the job done fairly well. Which made your retirement all the more easy.
If not working feels like this, you take another deep breath, you could get used to it.
Adjusting your headphones back into your ears, you barely jog three feet into your next lap when your phone rings. Fishing it out of your pocket, you sigh at the name displayed at the top and answer.
“Agent Y/Ln,” Fury’s voice floats into your ears,“ I need a favor.”
Just like that, you get the feeling you aren’t going to have the chance to get used to retirement.
* * * * * * *
Another uniformed guard walks by, his eyes glancing over at the two people in the cell, before he continues his leisure stroll down the hall.
The brunette archer runs his tongue across his bottom lip, eyes narrowing just barely before yet another pebble flicks across the cell and bounces off the wall right beside the ear of an already agitated ex-assassin.
“Barton, I swear to god if another rock comes within a foot of my face I will kill you before these morons even have the chance to consider it.” Natasha seethes, jaw clenching in frustration.
Clint snorts to hold in a laugh, raising his hands in surrender.“ My bad.”
Sighing heavily for the millionth time today, Natasha leans her head back against the cement wall, fingers gingerly running over the uncomfortable matching cement floor.
“You sure you don’t wanna play finger football with me?” He asks, flicking a triangular piece of paper towards his friend.
“Clint what the h-” she glares from him to the paper then back,“ where did you even get that?”
Letting his amused smile show, he answers,“ my pocket,” with a casual shrug,“ never know when you’re gonna get captured by psychotic evil German scientists.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, the red head holds in every noise of frustration and foul word in her arsenal. She already can’t believe she allowed herself to get captured, Clint’s incessantly childish behavior is only adding to her bad mood.
A mere eight hours ago she’d been on a very easy mission with her team. Infiltration and intel gathering was a form of work she was overly familiar with, having done it before and during her time with SHIELD and the Avengers.
But with a new recruit on the team, and this having been his first infiltration mission, figuratively communicative wires got crossed.
A simple “payload secure” came across as something different in Sam’s ears, what he heard she can’t even try to guess, but it led to him coming her way with a shit load of guards. Disgruntled sounds of fighting drew Clint to their location but even then the amount of enemies was overwhelming.
Distress calls were cut short and staticy through the short communication devices they had. So, being the only one with a clear and easy route out of the chaos, Sam was given the task to get out while he could and to send back up.
The seconds after he left, Natasha and Clint were taken, blinded, stripped of their weapons and comms, and brought to this cell.
While they were aware of the rescue coming for them, they still looked for a way out but found none. Especially not with the rotation of guards that patrolled by every half hour. Like clockwork, another was headed their way.
The whistling of an all too American song rang through the halls, slipping into the cell and grabbing the attention of both agents.
Clint’s eyebrows pinch together when the guard stops in front of the cell, then turns to face them. His calculating gaze trails over their body while an equally observant Natasha looks as well.
She stares at the guard, a stone cold expression masking her face as she commits your appearance to memory. Your eyes, hair, the build of your body currently clad in the same blue uniform as the other guards. Something was different though.
While the guards came off as exactly what they are, lackeys for whoever is running this show, you are much bigger. The look on your face isn’t as submissive and blank as the others.
Clint scoffs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes scanning over you,“ what’re you? A new hire?” He asks sarcastically, deciding to speak as he knows Natasha won’t say a word.“ Send you in to intimidate us?”
A silent moment passes.
“Buddy, you think I’m the bad guy?” You tilt your head with a raised eyebrow. A little chuckle leaves your lips at the confused expression he pulls and the one Natasha tries to hide.
Taking a step closer to the cage, you slip your arms between the cast iron bars and lace your fingers together.“ I’m here to save your asses. Since you went and got yourselves captured.”
For the first time Natasha speaks, a velvety soft voice flowing from the cement box into your ears,“ who sent you?”
Her green eyes look into yours and that, coupled with her voice, intrigues you even more. Seeing as you are more than aware of who Black Widow is. But you know now isn’t the time to fall into a gay panic over a gorgeous woman.
“Fury.” You answer,“ it’s not often Nick calls in a favor so I had to come. Now, let’s say we get out of here yeah?” They both watch as you grab hold of the bars, pulling one good time, arms flexing as you easily break the lock and send the door sliding open and slamming into the wall.
Clint and Natasha share a look as you step inside, walking over to Clint and breaking his chains first, then going to do the same to Natasha.
You raise an eyebrow at her expression after breaking the first chain,“ listen red, you don’t have to trust me.” She stands up and looks down at you, until you rise up and look down at her.“ But you do need to trust Fury. Got any complaints, take it up with him after you’re not surrounded by a bunch of lunatics with guns.”
With that she watches you exit the cell, looking left and right, then waving them forward as you go left down the corridor.
The two agents follow you as you silently incapacitate every guard in your path, sharing a look for the third time today.
As you’re taking down your tenth guard, Clint looks from you to Natasha.“ Are we really supposed to believe they’re on our side? Cause,” he takes a deep breath and releases it.
“They’re trusted by Fury.” Natasha looks at her friend,“ and that’s all I need to know for now.”
Stopping in front of a door, you peek through the glass, then take a step back. You square your shoulders and adjust the cap on your head, smiling dazzlingly at the two.
“Do me a favor, wait around that corner,” you point to the opposite side of them where a dark empty pocket sits in the hallway,“ and try not to get captured again.” You wink and step into the room without another word.
They stare at the door you disappeared into, long enough to hear you speak.
“Wo sind die Gefangenen in Zelle 4 hingegangen?”
Natasha understood your words perfectly fine but Clint was a little lost. The short silence followed your continued shout of,“ Finde sie! Jetzt! Eile!”
Eyes wide Natasha grabs Clint’s hand and pulls them into the dark just before a slew of guards pour out of the room and down the same way you’d all just come from.
Clint and Natasha barely have a chance to blink before the door beside them opens. Sunlight streams through the door, followed by you coming out of the room.
“Figured you might want these back,” you say as you stop in front of them and hold their confiscated weapons out to them.
Clint is quick to sling his quiver around his shoulders, extending his bow and hugging it, a quiet ‘I missed you’ muttered under his breath toward the inanimate object.
A snort of a laugh leaves your lips before Natasha takes her batons from you and holsters them at her sides.
Taking your cap off, you toss it aside and smooth your hand through your hair.“ Cover was blown about thirty seconds ago so,” you nod to the outside,“ let’s get to that fancy jet you’ve got a few miles out before the fireworks start.”
Flashing another confident smirk, you slip out the door. The two agents follow closely behind you. All three of you work almost flawlessly in taking down the guards in your path to the jet.
It comes into view and you stop to let them run ahead of you, turning to look at the building as it seemingly spontaneously combusts in three specific locations.
Satisfied with your work, you nod and turn around. Almost all eyes are on you as you jog up the ramp into the jet. A silent crunch is heard before you toss crumpled plastic and wires out of your hand.
“Can’t have them tracing that back to us.” You say, stepping fully into the jet and looking around as the door closes behind you.
Stern blue eyes stare into yours, an almost upset march carrying him to stand in front of you.“ If there’s anyone alive.” He says angrily.“ Did you stop to think how many people you may have just killed?”
Your eyebrow quirks up at his tone of voice. Trailing your eyes down his body you mentally purse your lips and nod. Admittedly you could see why Peggy was so smitten. Assuming he didn’t take this type of attitude with her.
However you can’t say you’re taken with the Captain America. His already condescending attitude wasn’t something you liked and while you know it’s a possibility he’s just this way cause you don’t know each other, it’s also possible he’s just an ass. Either way he isn’t why you’re here.
“Captain,” you nod,“ always thought our first meeting would be more pleasant than this. But aye, they say you’re never supposed to meet your idols right.” You shrug and step around him, making to head to the front of the jet.
Only his hand grips your arm and he spins you around with a glare now on his flawless looking face.
Glancing down at the offending hand on your arm, you figure he’s nonverbally demanding an explanation so you give it.“ There were charges at both entrances and the security room. I made sure to send everyone away from those areas before I blew it up. There may be some minor injuries, if that. But next time I’ll just leave and give them every opportunity to come after us, Captain.” You tell him, gripping his hand in yours and prying it from your arm.
His glare turns to a slight look of surprise. While his grip hadn’t been enough to hurt an ordinary human, yours was equal to, if not potentially stronger, than his true strength. Enough force to have broken anyone else’s hand in multiple places.
“Who are you?” He asks, maintaining his attitude.
Not one for dealing with that, you mumble your name to him and go to the front of the jet.
Your blank face morphs into a smile at the sight of the man in the pilot's seat.“ Never was one to give up control huh?” You ask teasingly as you drop your hand on his shoulder.
His gaze lands on you with a quick snap of his head towards you. The smirk on your face and the fact that it was actually you, made him snicker.
Making quick work of throwing the jet on autopilot, he moved his chair back and stood up to pull you into a hug, to the shock and surprise of every member of his team.
“Good to see you T.” You pat his back before pulling away.
A smile tugs on his lips and he nods.“ Ditto. This doesn’t count by the way.” He points a finger at you as you clap your hand on his shoulder.
“It definitely counts. A save is a save. Might not have been you exactly but-”
Waving you off he mumbles,“ yeah yeah.” Then looks at his teammates, his arm wrapping around your shoulders despite the height difference.“ I take it you met the team.” He says to which you nod.
“Can’t say they’re all that fond of me.” You chuckle softly, eyes scanning over the still agitated Captain America, a man in a modified flight suit, and the two people you just saved.“ Are they always so annoyed when they get their asses saved or is it me?”
Tony shrugs,“ Capsicle always been a little icy.” He jokes and you laugh, shaking your head and pushing him away from you.“ Nat is- well she’s Nat. I think she’s starting to warm up to me but that’s taken quite a bit of time hasn’t it Romanoff?”
His gaze directs to the redhead and you follow it. Your eyebrow raises at the mocking smile she gives Tony followed by her asking,“ who exactly is Y/n and how do you know each other?”
Both you and Tony glance at each other and you take the liberty of answering her question. Speaking to her directly gives you the chance to truly look into her green eyes, which you must admit you find very beautiful.
A range of emotions flicker over everyone’s faces as you dip your toe into your long complicated past. You simplify your back story, only telling them that you met Tony his family, that you’re a super soldier, created after Steve went into the ice, and that you’ve been a part of SHIELD for a while.
There were many questions thrown your way and you heavily debated with yourself whether or not you wanted to tell them everything. You didn’t think it’d hurt to be a little mysterious. But there’s also the thought that you won’t be seeing these people much anyway so does it truly matter if they know who you are.
Whatever decision you’d come to ceased to matter as the jet landed. The door opened and your eyes raised to read the words written across the top of the building.
“Avengers?” You mumble, glancing at your long time friend/brother. He makes that face, that “what’re you gonna do” nonchalant face Tony always makes. With a shake of your head, you follow him inside, but instead of going with him towards the hallway, you b-line for the elevators.
Tony’s voice calls out to you, effectively grabbing the attention of his teammates,“ not joinin us Y/nn?”
You look back over towards him, your eyes landing on Natasha’s green ones first then on Tony. Smiling a little you shake your head,“ debriefing isn’t for retirees, Stark.”
Natasha frowns at your words and Tony shakes his head with a breathy chuckle.
All of you turn away from each other, them heading to the meeting room and you facing the elevator as the doors slide open.
“Agent, glad you could stick around for the debrief.” Fury says, making you frown and shake your head.
“No no,” you raise a finger, essentially telling him to hold up.“ I’m not an agent. Retired, remember.”
He stops walking to look back at you. Tilting his head, he raises his eyebrow,“ that was until today. I believe you did some work, seeing as Natasha and Clint are back.”
A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you drop your head, groaning lowly,“ Nick please. You know-”
“That you’re on your way to the meeting room. Glad to hear it.” Leaving no more room to talk, he turns and walks away, breezing past the few Avengers who’d stayed behind to watch the interaction.
Grumbling under your breath, you follow after the man. Tony slaps his hand onto your shoulder, a small amused smirk on his lips as he guides you to the meeting room.
With a, in your opinion, justified glare directed at Fury, you plop down into a chair. The man snorts at the huff you let out, averting his eyes to everyone else who comes in.
To your surprise and silent pleasure, Natasha ends up occupying the chair on your other side. When her eyes land on you, you give a small smile and wiggle your fingers in a short wave.
Her eyes narrow at you and you wink. She just barely lifts a brow at the way your face morphs from one of amusement to a no nonsense expression.
You straighten up in your seat, fingers lacing together and resting on the table as your gaze focuses on Fury.
Natasha finds it a bit of a struggle to take her eyes off of you. Since the second she saw you back in Berlin she hasn’t been able to get a clear read on you.
“Romanoff, can I have your attention?” Fury tilts his head and looks directly into Natasha’s eyes.“ Or is that too much to ask?” His tone takes a sassy turn and the redhead rolls her eyes, focusing on him.
The debriefing goes exactly how everyone is used to it going. They go over the original objective of the mission, then everyone gives a run down of what happened: the part they played, how they contributed to the objective, and in this case how things went south.
“Y/Ln,” Fury says, making Natasha’s gaze snap over to you. Had you been looking at her, you would’ve seen the surprise flicker through those green orbs.
“Director,” you nod in reply before going into detail about your infiltration into the German base and the extraction of Natasha and Clint.
All while you talk, Natasha looks at you. You, Agent Y/n Y/Ln. She can’t believe she didn’t connect the dots. Fury sent you in. You’d told her your name. She should’ve seen it. Everyone at SHIELD knows who you are. A lot of people outside of SHIELD know about you as well.
Your explanation of who you were in the quinjet wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. She didn’t think this often of someone but: you are a legend.
“- things considered,” Natasha regains focus on the conversation, looking away from you to Fury as you speak,“ the mission could’ve gone off flawlessly.”
The man crosses his arms and shifts his weight,“ and what would you say the problem is Agent?”
“Underestimation sir. Or maybe misinformation.” Your response is a bit of a shock to everyone. You take their silence as an opportunity to further explain. You thought it was simple.
The mission was to grab intel from a science lab. As to be expected, the scientists and information there would be guarded. The underestimation or misinformation came in how heavily guarded the place was. Whatever surveillance or recon they had done wasn’t enough. So when they went in to collect they were overwhelmed or caught off guard which resulted in Natasha’s and Clint’s capture.
Everyone takes your words in stride, majority of them processing it and storing it for a time in which they’ll need to use it.
Shortly after that the debriefing ends with a few, what you know is meant to be taken as, encouraging words from Fury. Everyone stands after he’s left, starting to file out.
Once again as you make to leave, Tony stops you. He slaps your arm and you know he’d used as much force as he could behind the action.
Used to this from him, you sigh and shake your head, a small amused smirk on your lips as you look at him.“ What is it now Tony?”
He smiles at you,“ why don’t you hang out for a bit. Haven’t seen the tower yet.” You raise your eyebrow at him, gaze flicking to the redhead that walks past behind him, her eyes on you for a second before she looks away. Smile turning into a smirk he adds,“ you might just find a reason to stick around.”
* * * * * * *
Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @yumusak-yastik
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natalia romanoff#natalia romanoff x you#black widow#black widow x reader#moment in time#reader insert
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“I Think He Knows” - A Kingsman Fanfic
TSwift Songfic Week Day 5
Pairing: Agent Whiskey x M!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Explicit (Pining, dirty talk, hand jobs, oral sex)
A/N: I feel like there’s a lack of M/M in the Pedro cinematic universe fandom, so here’s some bisexual Whiskey having a good time with a fellow male agent.
Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are paired together for an out-of-state mission. On your last night, your pining and his flirting finally come to a head.
I think he knows his hands around
A cold glass
Make me wanna know that body
Like it's mine
The mission was long but you were finally finished with it. Three weeks in Dallas were more than enough for you, and you were looking forward to getting home to your own bed and your own office in Kentucky. You were aching for the privacy it offered, after spending almost a month sharing a hotel room with your fellow agent. This time you’d been paired up with Agent Whiskey, and because of that you were glad the trip was almost over.
It’s not because Agent Whiskey- Jack - was incapable. Quite the opposite. He was extremely efficient and good at his job but he was also… extremely attractive. Which was a huge distraction.
You took pride in being a capable agent but Jack and his pretty face compromised that. You’ve never been in a situation like this before. Lusting over your coworker felt extremely unprofessional, but it was impossible to ignore him. He was an in-your-face kind of guy, always butting in with a comment or joke, always using his body as a weapon. He’d lounge around your shared hotel room in nothing but a thin towel, his wet hair draped across his forehead, and you swear he did it on purpose. The man knew how attractive he was and he obviously loved flaunting it.
He was tall and tan, with soft brown hair, a pair of beautiful round eyes that seemed to sparkle with amusement, and a smile that made your knees weak. The downside was that his smile made just about everyone weak. You were living in your own personal hell. Every single day having to watch Jack be attractive without even trying, and then watch as everyone in his vicinity tried to flirt with him. Tonight he was wearing a black leather jacket and extremely tight jeans, looking more like a movie star than an undercover agent. The man could pull off anything. It’s actually unfair.
You were out at some dive bar, celebrating the end to a successful mission before flying home tomorrow. It was Jack’s idea of course, but you’d agreed because you needed a stiff drink after these three long weeks and honestly you couldn’t say no to him.
“Another round, kid?”
You glanced up and saw him staring at you, a twinkle in his bright eyes. His hand gripped his empty whiskey glass and you eyed your own half-full drink. You couldn’t throw it back like him.
“I’m good for now,” you answered.
He nodded and slapped you on the shoulder as he stood up, “I’ll get you another one anyway. You better finish that by the time I get back.”
You sighed as you watched him walk away. His ass looked fantastic in those jeans. All the training and harsh exercise routines that Champ put the team through really worked for him. No wonder he could get any pretty thing he wanted.
Speaking of which, he seemed to have turned his affections on someone else. You groaned, your eyes never wavering from where Jack stood. He was currently making small talk with the pretty brunette bartender. He was giving her the full Whiskey treatment- gazing at her with those soft, mocha-colored puppy dog eyes and giving her a charming half-grin. Watching him flirt was simultaneously entertaining and torturous. He threw his head back, laughing at some dumb joke the bartender must have said, and you almost growled out loud as you hungrily stared at his neck.
Stupid horny bastard.
He got that boyish look that I like in a man
I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans
It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands
No one understands
You were getting really sick of hiding your partial hard-ons and jacking off in the cold shower, but everything the man did was hot. The deep voice and accent alone were enough to get you going on most days. God, you hadn’t felt like this since high school.
If Jack noticed you staring or caught on to the fact that you took extra long showers, he didn’t say anything. You were openly out at the agency and your sexuality wasn’t a secret. When you first joined the Statesmen, you felt you had something to prove at work, as if you had to demonstrate your masculinity by keeping up with the largest members of the team. But you’ve excelled in your role for years now and you were beyond proving yourself at this point. You were just glad that Agent Whiskey wasn’t one of the people who cared that you liked men.
In fact, he treated you just like he treated everyone-- this meant he wasn’t shy about flirting and teasing you. Sometimes it seemed like he was coming onto you, but you had to remind yourself that he was like that with everyone-- you weren’t special and there was no way he was actually interested.
Before falling asleep each night, you’d listen to Jack’s soft snores and run scenarios through your head of every possible way that you could share your feelings. You thought about all of the things you could say, and all of the ways Jack could react. It was agonizing but your analytical mind couldn’t stop. You wished you had the courage to just ask him out. The worst that could happen is he’d say ‘no’ and maybe request to never work with you again, but then at least you’d be free of him.
Wanna see what's under that attitude
Like, I want you, bless my soul
And I ain't gotta tell him
I think he knows
A loud laugh suddenly interrupted your thoughts and you looked over to the bar again. The bartender was giggling and grasping at Jack’s arm. The sight made your stomach turn, and you made a quick decision to get out of there before you had to watch them start making out over the bar.
You stepped up next to Jack and finally drew his attention away from the girl.
“Hey, hold off on my drink. I’m gonna head out,” you told him.
“What? Come on now, it’s so early!”
“Yeah. I just don’t really feel like hanging out anymore. I’ll see you back there.”
Before Jack could respond, you threw down some cash on the bar and turned away. You were already across the floor and on your way out the door when a hand on your arm stopped you.
“Hey. Are you pissed at me or something?”
“No,” you muttered, trying to ignore the shot of arousal you felt when he grabbed you, “I just don’t feel like sitting in the corner, watching you flirt with some chick.”
You tried to turn away from him, but Jack let out a quiet “ohhh” of understanding. His grip on your arm tightened.
“We’ve been on this mission for weeks now, and on our last night you finally decide to say something?” Jack laughed, turning you around so you were facing him again. He invaded your personal space, ducking his head and trailing his nose along your neck and jaw.
“What?” you asked, confused because he couldn’t possibly mean...
“You're so slow, that’s what,” Jack mumbled, his lips tracing along your neck. It felt amazing, but... was Jack- your fellow agent and known womanizer- really nuzzling your neck right now?
“I'm confused, are you really into this?” you asked again, trying to hold back a moan. Jack pulled away and looked at you with huge eyes.
“God, you’re an idiot. I've been sending you obvious signs, makin’ eyes at you and showing off what I got, and now I'm literally biting your neck, and you're still asking?” Jack said incredulously. You searched his face and saw eyes that were filled with desperation and lust.
“I just assumed…”
“I like it both ways, kid. Is that clear enough for you?”
He then took one step forward and kissed you fully on the lips. There was only a moment of shock before you melted into the kiss, pressing your bodies closer and running your hands over Jack’s shoulders and back. All of your worries disappeared then. You didn't feel the terrible anxiety that constantly filled you with dread. Your mind stopped frantically thinking about every possible worst case scenario. Everything stopped. There was only Jack.
“Oh ohhhh right. Yeah I’m an idiot,” you quietly mumbled against his lips, “Want to go back to the hotel?”
“Fuckin’ finally,” he replied with a grin.
Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh
We can follow the sparks, I'll drive
So where we gonna go?
I whisper in the dark
You weren’t sure how you made it back to the hotel so quickly, but as soon as you tumbled through the door, Jack had you pinned to the bed underneath him. His hands roamed all over your torso, and he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside before quickly doing the same to his own. The room was filled with your little whimpers every time Jack ground his hips against yours. You stared up at him, his lips swollen and red bitten and eyes blown with lust, and you were positive that you looked just as debauched. He looked just as beautiful hovering over you as you’d always imagined, and you wanted to feel him everywhere.
“More,” you whined, canting your hips up into Jack’s.
He groaned and trailed his hands down your chest, his fingers brushing against your nipples, causing a moan to slip from your mouth. He continued his journey down until he reached the fly of your jeans.
“Lift up,” Jack mumbled, leaning in to kiss your neck as he tried to tug your pants down. You obeyed and soon your pants and your boxers were off, leaving you completely exposed.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, his fingers barely brushing over your erection, “You’re even prettier than I thought, darlin’.”
You groaned, pushing your body closer to Jack’s. As his hand slowly learned the feel of your cock, your own hands wandered all over his body. From his strong shoulders to his muscular back, to his waist, his hips, his thick thighs. You slipped one hand into his jeans to grab his ass, finally getting the chance to touch the part of Jack’s body you’d fantasized about the most. You could feel his clothed erection rubbing against your thigh as Jack continued steadily stroking your cock.
“Jack,” you whimpered, gazing into his dark, lust-filled eyes. You were barely able to control your thoughts properly since Jack’s pace was getting quicker and way too distracting. He grinned down at you.
“This good, baby? You want it a little rougher?” he asked, a groan slipping from his lips as you squeezed his ass in response.
Jack pushed forward and kissed you harder this time, moving his hand faster along your cock. Then he kissed his way down your neck, sucking and nipping all your sensitive spots. Suddenly he bit down hard on the skin between your neck and shoulder, following it up with a long lick with his wide tongue. That show of possessiveness was enough to push you right to the edge. You cried out as pleasure tore through you, coming in ropes all over Jack’s large hand. You gasped for breath, your chest rising and falling as your head lolled against the pillows.
Jack hovered over you, continuing to kiss your neck and upper chest as you came down from your high. “I’ve been told I’m good with my hands, can I get a confirmation on that, darlin'?“ he asked with a cocky grin.
Your eyes blinked open and you smirked at him. “You’ve got the confirmation all over your hand.”
“Ooooh, so he’s mouthy all of a sudden. Guess I just had to get you in bed to see the sassy side of you, huh?” Jack tutted.
“I’ll show you mouthy,” you muttered, blushing at the stupid euphemism even as you trailed a line of kisses down Jack’s sternum and belly.
When you reached the top of his jeans, you surprised your fellow agent by flipping him over and yanking his pants down in one fluid motion. Jack growled at the switch, but when you took his cock into your mouth, he gasped and surged forward. You enjoyed the desperate moan he made as you swallowed him completely, his hips bucking into your mouth. But you wanted to take your time with this. You grasped his hip bone with one hand and held him down, before pulling off his cock and moving to lightly lick his balls. Jack was making beautiful, desperate noises and you loved the idea that this strong, confident agent was falling apart because of you. You smiled against him and swiped your tongue along the bottom of his shaft before taking him fully into your mouth again.
“Holy hell, you’re fuckin’ amazing,“ Jack groaned as you bobbed up and down on his cock, “I’m so close-”
You sucked harder and reached your other hand down to fondle his balls again as Jack thrust into your mouth. Soon he was arching forward and shouting your name. You let him come in your mouth, swallowing his seed down like it was another shot at the bar.
When you looked up at Jack from between his legs, you grinned. He had his head tilted back, one hand thrown across his mouth as he stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. When he felt your eyes on him, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile.
“Damn, that was…”
“Amazing,” you cut him off, “Even better than I imagined.”
“So you imagined it, huh?”
Unable to control the urge any longer, you leaned forward and pulled Jack into a sweet, affectionate kiss. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and you could feel him grinning the whole time. When you finally pulled back, he was still smiling but he also looked a bit confused.
“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” he asked.
“I was convinced you were straight. I’ve been a fucking mess trying to decide if I should say something or not,” you replied.
Jack hummed and reached for you, but you chuckled and pulled away.
“You need a shower,” you said, “Then we can talk some more.”
“Only if you join me, sugar...”
I want you, bless my soul
I ain't gotta tell him
I think he knows
#agent whiskey#jack daniels#kingsman golden circle#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x male reader#pedro pascal x male reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#my fanfic#fanfiction tag
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The High Priestess: Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader
a/n: I have like 26 requests in my box and I swear I'm getting to them soon, but I have to write this. I want to write this right now.
wc: 1.7k
tw: NSFW
masterlist
Part 2
song recommendation:
The sound of your fellow priestesses walking around the corner to your hiding spot is the first sign of something out of the ordinary occurring in the temple.
"Your holiness," they whisper, and you open your eyes, sitting in the Pool of the Gods, fully naked.
"Is it the king?" you wonder, looking over your bare shoulder at the women. The twins nod, their blue eyes darting from the open book at the edge of the Pool to the ground. "Tell him I will be with him shortly." The attendants bow to you and walk away, whispering amongst themselves. You look over to the book once more, flipping the colored cards back and forth to finish your short reading before pulling yourself free from the water.
Once you are dry and dressed, you meet the king in the Grand Hall of the temple, eyeing him from afar. There were only two reasons the plait-haired vessel of the Gods would come to you, and one of them wouldn't occur for the next several weeks.
"Am I to presume you've come to me for advice?" Violet eyes turn to you, focusing on your attire before flicking up to your face. The fur around his shoulders is made of a black animal, and part of you recoils internally, thinking about the sacrifice the animal made for the king's pleasure.
"Advice?" The king chuckles, his mouth opening to retort smartly. But the look in his eyes changes when he remembers he's in the house of the Gods, and despite being a vessel for them, you are, too. A much more powerful one, at that. "I don't need advice from you, High Priestess."
"Then why have you come?" You bring the cloak around your shoulders a little closer to your collarbone, feeling a chill cross your spine. "Surely not to send my little priestesses on a goose chase."
"Not this time," he smiles, dropping the fur on the marble floor and walking toward you like a lion after its prey. "I've come for you." The king grabs your chin and looks you in the eyes, examining your face carefully. "You've been in my head for months, High Priestess. How is that possible?" You swallow hard, trying not to crumble in front of the womanizing king.
"I have cast no spell on you," you reply and the king lifts his brows in surprise. "But I cannot say that the witch you brought through my doors last time you were here did not."
"She was no witch," the king whispers, squinting his eyes. "You told me so."
"I might have lied." He lets go of your chin, nodding.
"I forgot you have no loyalty to anything or anyone except the Gods." You tilt your head and blink, feeling boredom creeping into your mind.
"What have you come for, Ran?"
"I told you that I've come for you. I can't get you out of my head, Your Holiness. Break the spell over me." You stand akimbo, lips pursing as Ran finds a kneeling position. "Bless me."
You shake your head repeatedly, scowling. "I cannot bless you."
"You're retaining your virginity, still?" His astonished tone does nothing to help soothe your headache - which is him; he's your handsome headache of a man.
"I never said that," you scoff, reaching up to touch your curls in mock shock. "But I am in no position to bless a king who has ulterior motives." Ran stands to his feet, frowning deeply.
If only he weren't High King.
"I am not a virgin; this is true. But is it not written that an unwed High Priestess and an unwed High King are allowed to--"
"In times of trouble, when an heir is needed, and when the gods permit such an action," you snap. "Do not quote the Ancient Word to me, Haitani. My spirit was there when they were written." You turn to face the stained glass windows of the temple, walking away from the despondent king. "If there is nothing else you need, I will bid you a good evening."
"We are going to war." Your jaw clenches as you stop, your entire body stuck mid-walk. "We will leave in two days." The colored cards flip in your mind, and you discern that he is, in fact, telling the truth. If he lied, the Gods would have his head, so what would outweigh those consequences? A night with you?
"You did not lead the conversation with this."
"I try not to mention it," Ran mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "My brother is overwhelmed at the front line. I will be leading four thousand troops there." You clasp your hands together, looking Ran in the eye sadly.
"And who will rule in your stead?"
"You." Before you can protest, Ran presses his fingers to your mouth. "It is already done. You are more powerful than I, and the only one who can hear from the Gods like I can. You know the Ancient Word. I have no queen, and I have no heir. Not yet."
"Not yet."
_____________________________________________________________
The blood on your fingers smears across the forehead of each commander, signifying the sacrifice they have made, and the sacrifice yet to be made.
Your attendants chant the blessing before battle for each commander that comes up to you for the symbolic gesture, and music plays behind them to invoke the Gods one last time.
Ran kneels before you, his violet eyes downcast as you smear the blood across his forehead, breathing a special blessing in addition to the one your assistants chant and then crossing the red lines you made twice with more blood, one on each side of his head.
"Wash off the hatred of your enemies, and the anger of rich men," you murmur, and Ran nods, pressing a kiss to your palm in a sign of surrender.
"Wait for me tonight."
The light of the moon reaches through your window as you wait for the High King, knees cradled against your chest. It isn't long after midnight when the man strides through your doors, eyes hungry and searching for you.
No words pass between you two as Ran approaches, undoing his cloak and holding your face in his hands before kissing you soundly. You raise on the tips of your toes to reach your arms around his neck, relishing in the touch of the man who is - by all means - your equal. He undresses you with a swift movement of his hands, letting your robes fall to the floor as he walks you to your bed.
"My king," you breathe between desperate kisses, but he shushes you, undoing his own clothing and climbing on top of you. Desire blooms between your legs and down your chest as his lips mark you where others will be able to see, where others will know that he'd claimed you as his for the night. His lips trail down to the pulsing feeling between your hips and kiss your thighs with care before parting your slick folds.
"If I must stop, tell me so." Your toes curl into themselves as Ran's tongue darts into your cunt, tasting the sweet nectar hidden there. His violet eyes flutter closed, and he hums softly, sending shockwaves into your core.
"Ran," you breathe, but the sensations don't stop, he doesn't stop, and you don't want him to. Not ever. Your breathing becomes labored, and every breath you draw in as he sucks and teases you makes you see stars. You lace your hands around his head, and he leans into your palms, his hands pushing your legs back even further. When he finds a sweet spot, you jolt up, but his strong hands push you back down to the bed, roaming over your flesh like explorers searching for gold. You jerk a few times, praying to the gods that you wouldn't come undone and die, but Ran takes his time with you, teasing you until you can't take it any longer.
"I'm--" Your warning comes too late, and you grip the bedsheets with a ferocity you can't explain, shaking as Ran continues his torment. Your soul is ripping in two - this you know - and everything around you becomes dull as your orgasm rends you asunder. "Ran!" you manage to choke out, but he must not be able to hear you, because his motions only quicken. You quiver for a few moments more, then come down from the heavens, a sweat forming on your forehead.
His violet eyes reopen, and he hovers over you, smoothing a hand down your cheek. "Bless me, High Priestess."
"I will," you exhale. "I will."
The suffering only lasts a moment as Ran slides into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.
"Oh, heavens," you cry out, and Ran holds you close to him, shaking as he moves within you. He hisses, eyes shut as he kisses down your cheek and to your jawline.
"I'll move when you're ready." You wait for a few minutes, catching your breath while Ran wipes the tears from your eyes, his face scrunched up as well. Your hand on his back is the signal for him to begin moving again; he does so carefully, trying not to hurt or bruise you. But soon, the slowness is not enough, and you want more.
"More," you hiss, and Ran obliges.
"As you wish, my love." His hips thrust against yours, and you grip the flesh of his back, panting while his hands cradle your head on either side. The feeling of the High King inside of you is unlike anything you've ever experienced, and you suddenly understand why he is considered a good lover among the halls of the palace - not that you visit there often. A sob wrenches itself from your throat, and you lean into Ran's chest, overwhelmed by the sensations. "Should I stop?" he murmurs, but you shake your head no. You moan into his skin, feeling the crest of another orgasm building in your core.
"I feel it again..." you grunt, and Ran tightens his grip on your body.
"I know." He seems to be losing his grip as soon as you tip over the edge, and when he comes, you feel him shake, his eyes fluttering in the moonlight. You don't recall much else as you tumble headfirst into a sleep in the High King's arms, cradled against his broad chest with his breath fanning across your shoulder.
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Life’s Not Your Friend
Coming Home ‘verse - somewhere between Black Widow and Infinity War
She largely lost the ability to sleep soundly years ago. It’s the blessing and curse of motherhood – eternal vigilance whether in the dark hours or the light. It makes the appearance of her eldest at the bedside more than a bit of a shock.
“Auntie Nat’s crying,” he tells her.
“Nat’s not here, love,” she murmurs back, silently cursing her husband’s half feral partner and her own mostly lost cause in falling off clothes. It was one thing when the kids were toddlers, mostly unaware of their beloved auntie’s broken edges. But if it’s causing nightmares, there will have to be changes. To what she can’t begin to postulate.
“She’s in the kitchen, mama,” he tries again. “I think she’s hurt.”
Clint’s up and moving before Laura fully processes that one. She shepherds Cooper to his room before heading downstairs to survey the damage.
The kid was not at all mistaken. Nat’s in the kitchen. Under the kitchen table, to be more accurate. There is a tang of vomit in the air and a glance toward the sink sends Laura’s hand to her own lips, swallowing hard before flipping on the disposal and forcing the mess down the drain with the faucet sprayer on high. She can smell iron in the air and she wonders whether the woman child has yet another bleeding ulcer or got into a fight. Clint’s kneeling just beneath the edge of the table, speaking softly as though he’s trying to gentle a cornered animal.
Nat’s muttering something back, a mix of languages that make sense only in her head.
“Let me try?” Laura asks her husband, lowering herself to her own knees closer to the end of the table where Nat has herself wadded into a tight ball with knees to chest and top of head just barely beneath the wood above her.
“Come here,” she commands in the voice that has stilled a thousand tantrums and misdeeds in her children, the tone that settles babies in the throes of colic and husbands in midnight flashbacks alike.
The flow of mangled languages cuts off before a blur of bleached blonde hair and spindly legs flies into her chest, knocking them both backward into a heap on the hardwood.
“M’sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry.”
“Shhh, that’s enough of that, love. Be still. Just be still a moment now,” Laura tells her. She wraps her arms around Nat and takes stock of the ridges of vertebrae and ribs beneath her grasp. She reeks of vomit, smoke, and a mildewed tang that brings to mind abandoned buildings in seedy urban sprawl – or captivity. They’re equally likely when she’s been gone a while.
The woman in her arms goes limp, melting into her grasp and taking a long series of ragged breaths. Laura’s hands roam over her, surveying too slim arms and hips that jut outward more sharply than they’ve any valid reason to. There aren’t any flinching startles, no evidence of outright injury. Not a fight, then.
“Run me a bath,” she tells Clint. She doesn’t tell him to add the Epson salts and oils. He knows what is needed when Nat shows up like this. It’s a long-practiced routine now. Neither of them trusts her lies when she swears blind that it’s the last time. There won’t be one of those before they put her in the ground.
Laura drags the pair of them upright without dislodging the body tangled into hers. She half supports, half drags Nat down the hall and up the stairs to the large tub in the main bathroom. She flips on the shower taps as well, coaxing Nat out of her clothing and discarding her own oversized pajamas. Once upon a time she stood outside the frosted glass door of the shower. Those days are long gone. She presses Nat onto the little bench in the stall, pulling down the shower head and hosing the worst of the grime from her skin while pressing a washcloth and baby soap into trembling hands. The water runs rust colored into the drain and Laura tries not to think of what that means when she cannot find a single visible injury.
Nat holds the cloth up, eyes flicking back and forth to avoid making contact. It’s quick work, sponging her off and then soaping up and rinsing hair that feels like straw beneath her fingers. Bleach. Malnutrition. One of those. Another quick rinse to be sure the soap is off before closing the taps and leading Nat across the tile to the tub. Clint’s added the salts and oils, and there’s a rubber ducky bobbing jauntily on the water – an utterly incongruous remnant from evening bath time with the kids.
“In you go, love,” Laura tells her, reaching for a towel to dry herself off. Clint slips out to get fresh clothing for the pair of them, returning a few moments later with soft pajamas in tidy stacks.
Nat’s still utterly silent, eyes red rimmed but calm. She reaches out to poke the bath toy as Laura pulls on fresh sleepwear, pushing the bright yellow duck beneath the water and watching it surface like a small child. Laura settles onto her knees once she’s clothed, the plush mat beside the tub a necessity both for parenting three children who play hard outdoors and rescuing a wayward assassin who tends to turn up filthy and bruised.
They stay there in silence until Nat’s eyes begin to drift closed and her head risks slipping into the water. “Up you get,” Laura tells her, guiding her to her feet and passing her a fluffy towel and then the set of clothing Clint brought. The drawstring waist of the sleep pants proves vital as the things billow around her but the too large sweatshirt seems to provide the right kind of warm comfort as she burrows into it and accepts Laura’s offered hand.
It’s nearing five in the morning when they settle into bed, Nat between Clint and Laura, arms wrapped around her own torso and knees drawn up to meet them. Daylight will bring more time for explanations of where she’s been and what she needs moving forward. Now, though, Laura watches her face relax into sleep and closes her own eyes.
#coming home 'verse#Laura Barton#clint barton#natasha romanoff#clint barton's farm#found family#di tried to write fluff#di doesn't know how to write fluff#hurt/comfort
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Its been you (H.H)
Warnings: fluff. Brief mentions of sex.
Masterlist
You heard the front door of the apartment open. You were sitting cross legged on your over sized couch typing away for an essay that you had due in less than five hours. Your roommate had been traveling and you weren't expecting him home yet, but the guy never really gave you much of an update, so you figured the door opening was him coming home early without warning.
“Y/N?” you heard a familiar voice call from behind you. Your head shot to look at the boy. Tall, blonde, blue eyed.
“Haz, what are you doing here?” you asked.
“Harry told me I could come crash in his room tonight, Liv and I,” he paused and looked down at his feet. You could tell something was wrong, but you weren't sure exactly what. “I walked in on her in our bed with someone else, and i, i don't have anywhere to go,” You could see the tears pooling in his eyes as he spoke. You lifted your hand for him to stop talking. That was enough of an explanation. Your apartment was an open door to friends, especially when they needed somewhere to escape their own reality.
“Come here,” you said as you set down your laptop and stood up, opening your arms to comfort him. He needed a friend in a dark moment, and though you hadn't known Haz for as long as other friends you had, you still considered him a close friend.
He walked over to you, and buried his head in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist and you could feel the tears slipping from his eyes onto your skin. How someone could do this to him, you weren't sure. You were sure that he didn't deserve it though. After a while, and a few more tears, you both sat on the couch, a movie playing in the background.
“Sorry Harry didn't give you a heads up,” Haz mumbled.
“Well he knew i wouldn't mind, so don't fret it,” You told him.
“What is it with you two anyway?” he asks you, catching you off guard.
“What do you mean?” You had an idea of what he was going to say but you stayed hopeful that he wasn't referring to that.
“I mean, three years you two have lived together, and neither one of you has ever dated or anything. Is there something going on between you two?” His question struck a nerve in you, but you were a calm person so you wouldn't let him know that.
“Well, I mean we're close, but nothing like you would think I'm sure. Just haven't found the right person, either of us, you know?” It was a stupid excuse and you knew it. Of Course you never wanted anyone else to know why you haven't dated anyone in three years, You were ashamed of the reason.
“So, you guys have never..?” you laughed at the rather personal question Haz had asked.
“Wouldn't you like to know,” You teased.
You felt your phone buzz under your leg and you grabbed it to check what it was.
Harry: Haz there? Told him he could crash in my room. Having a bad night.
Y/N: He's here.
Harry: Thanks love. I'll be home soon. Won't have to miss me much longer.
Y/N: What makes you think I miss you Holland?
You knew you did. Of course you did, he was your best friend and had been for years. You felt the buzz of your phone again and looked down.
Harry: Well cause I miss you. Like a lot.
Your heart skipped a beat as you read that last message, and you had to pull yourself together.
Y/N: I miss you too. Like more. Hurry home.
You shut your phone off, knowing anything else he could say would probably turn your cheeks a permanent red and you didn't want to try and explain that to Haz.
“He loves you, you know?” Haz's voice was quiet but you heard him clearly.
“What?” you asked.
“Harry, he loves you. Maybe just as a friend, but sometimes i'll catch him looking at you in a way that friends don't look at each other,” his words were soft and true. Friends shouldn't look at each other the way you and Harry often did, but what could you do?
-
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-
You woke up the next morning still on the couch. Your neck hurt from sleeping in an almost upright position but you tried to ignore that. Haz was sprawled across the other side of the couch, sleeping peacefully. You heard a noise come from Harry's room and you felt an uneasy tightening in your stomach.
What was that?
You got up quietly and walked over to Harry's door and pushed it open to reveal the curly redhead standing in front of his suitcase.
“Hey you,” You said, making him jump. He turned around and smiled at you, a lovely toothy smile you had missed so much.
“Hey you,” He said, rushing to you, throwing his arms around your waist and lifting you up. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you buried your head into his messy mop of curls, taking in his wonderful scent. “I missed you,” He told you, setting your feet back on the floor, you loosened your grip on his neck but didn't fully let go.
“I missed you more,” You teased. He laughed and rolled his eyes burying his head into your neck, his lips resting on your bare skin sending a fire down your body.
“I have so much to tell you, so many stories. I should probably shower first though, i’m sure i don’t smell great,” He told you, letting you go and walking back farther into his room. You stood in his doorway admiring him, as he rambled on, he slipped his shirt over his head revealing his bare chest, making your cheeks flush a pink hue.
“Harry,” You interrupted.
“Huh?” he asks, turning to you.
“I'm glad you're home,” you tell him sweetly. He smiles at you, rolling his eyes. You shut his door and go to walk to your room but you notice Haz sitting up looking at you. “What?” you ask.
“Not a way friends look at each other,” He teases you. You grab his hoodie and throw it at him.
“Shut up Haz,” you tell him laughing.
You walk into your bedroom, strip off your clothes from the day before and walk into your bathroom. You stood and looked at yourself in the mirror. Sometimes you didn't even recognize the reflection looking back at you. You rolled your eyes and got into the shower.
-
You finished drying your hair and getting a pair of black leggings on and a blush pink hoodie that didn't belong to you. You walked back out to the living room where Harry and Haz were both sitting on the couch. You walked over and sat down next to Harry in the open space that had been left for you.
“I was wondering where that one went,” Harry said pulling the string on the hoodie, “Where did you find it?” He asked.
The truth? The truth was he had left it in your room, on a drunken night, a few months back. Were you going to tell him that in front of Haz? No way.
“It must have gotten mixed up in my laundry or something,” You tell him. His eyebrows raise and he looks at you with a certain look that makes you know. He remembers leaving it all those nights ago.
“Looks better on you anyway,” He tells you. You smack his arm laughing.
“Shut up Holland,” You tell him.
“Mind if i shower?” Haz asks Harry.
“Go for it,” he tells him. Haz gets up and walks to Harry's room shutting the door behind him.
“Must have gotten mixed up in my laundry or something,” Harry's voice mocks your own as he laughs. “What, couldn’t just say, ‘you left it in my room a while back when we both stripped down to nothing and had sex all night long,’?” You stare at him, mouth open and can't help but laugh.
“I can't stand you sometimes,” you tell him while rolling your eyes and laughing.
“Sure you can't,” he said to you rubbing his hand up and down your thigh.
“Harry,” you groan.
“What love?” he asks.
“We can't keep doing this.” you tell him.
“Sure we can,” he tells you, as he gets off the couch and stands above you. His hand rests on your cheek as he leans down and connects your lips. He runs his tongue across your bottom lip making you moan, he kisses you harder, his tongue going into your mouth now. Your arms reach up and go around his neck pulling him down to you. His fingers tangle themselves in your hair and he pulls your head to the side, leaving wet sloppy kisses down your neck.
“Harry,” you giggle.
“Hey mate you know there is a bra in your bathroom?” Haz says as he comes out of Harry's room. Harry jumps up but falls over his own feet instead and you pull the hoodie up farther on your neck, hiding your glistening skin from where Harry's lips had just been.
“A what?” Harry asks, trying to play it off.
“A woman's bra,” Haz says, looking back and forth between the two of you.
“Oh, Uh, i, uh,” Harry stuttered.
“Must be mine, i had to use his shower last week cause mine wasn't working,” You tell him, hoping Harry's stuttering didn't seem too obvious.
“Come on guys,” Haz rolls his eyes not buying your excuses.
“What?” you and Harry both ask.
“I’m not blind,” Haz says. You sigh and Harry gets up to his feet.
“I promise you it's not what you think,” Harry tells Haz.
“Then what?” Haz asks.
“I don't have an explanation, if i'm being honest,” Harry laughs.
“So if i walked over to her right now and kissed her, it wouldn't even phase you?” Haz’s words shocked you., and you could see Harry's shoulders tense up.
“Don't do that mate,” Harry's voice came off even deeper than usual.
“Why, she's not your girlfriend, right?” Haz’s voice was taunting, and I could see he was getting the reaction he wanted from Harry.
“It doesn't matter, you're not going to kiss her.” Harry told him. Harrison took a step towards you, and Harry scoffed. “I swear Haz, if you lay a hand on her,”
“You’ll what harry? Admit that something is going on.” Haz demanded.
“Hey,” your voice came out louder than you expected, causing both boys to look at you. “You,” pointing to Haz, “Are not going to kiss me,” you looked over to Harry and your tone went soft. “It's okay,” You tell him, causing a slight smile on his face.
“Fine,” harry says. “I'll admit it,” You look back at him to see what he was going to say but his words shock even you. “I’m in love with Y/N”
-
-
-
The last few years, you haven't dated or talked to anyone because you were always hopeful that Harry would eventually notice you in that way, and then one night you had both been drinking and had kissed. It meant something to you, but he seemed to have just brushed it off like nothing. From then you just figured you were a meaningless booty call to him, and you had accepted that, but you always wanted more. You guys had been messing around for the past two and a half years, and yeah you were in love with harry, like head over heels in love with him, But you were sure you were just a quick fuck, or a booty call, because he never had time to meet anyone with how busy he always was. So to hear him say he was in love with you. You sat staring at Harry, your jaw practically on the floor.
“Oh shit,” Harrison said looking at you, who was obviously experiencing some shock.
“You what?” You whispered, knowing fully well what he had said. Harry looked at you, and took a few steps closer to you.
“I didn't mean to spring that on you,” Harry said apologetically.
“How long?” you asked him. He laughed and started counting on his fingers.
“Since that first kiss, probably two and a half years ago,” he told you. You reached up and swatted his arm. “What?” he asked.
“You have had me thinking i was a damn booty call all this time you shithead,” you tell him.
“I thought I was the booty call,” He laughed at you. You rolled your eyes.
“You guys have no idea what's going on between you, do you?” Haz asked. You and Harry both shake your heads no while laughing. “Go talk, you weirdos,” He tells you. Harry grabs your hand pulling you up and to your bedroom.
You walk over and sit down on your bed, looking at Harry who is leaning on your door. “I shouldn't have blurted that out, especially in front of him,” he says to you with a sorry look on his face.
“Why did you never say anything?” You ask him while fiddling with your fingers.
“I didn't think you thought of me as anything more than a friend, who you sometimes kiss, and shag,” He laughs, reaching up and grabbing his shoulder.
“You're an idiot then Harry,” You tell him. He looks at you surprised, “Why do you think I have never dated or talked to or about any other guys. I was always hoping that one day you would realize that i'm the one you want,”
“But you are,” He walks over and sits down next to you putting his hand on your thigh, causing your stomach to do flips.
“Don't say that if you don't mean it,” You whisper. He grabs your hands in his own and you look over to him, his boyish brown eyes staring deep into your own.
“I mean it, Y/N.” You're sure your heart is going to explode at this moment. This boy who you have held so near and dear to you was telling you that it's you, it's been you the whole time.
“Harry Holland, I swear you are going to be the death of me,” You tell him as a tear falls down your cheek, he rubs it away with the swipe of his thumb, and in this moment, you know everything is perfect
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Like Father Like Daughter
You meet Colson while visiting your dad, Tommy Lee, on the set of The Dirt and the rest is history.
Request: “Have colson(mgk) meeting tommy Lee’s daughter(reader) on set of the dirt and they fall in love and she meets casie scared that casie won’t like her but casie loves her”
Colson X Reader
Warnings: Cursing
A/N: I wrote this 3 different times because I didn’t like the first two…
Word Count: 2558
Day One
Stepping out into the New Orleans air for the first time was shocking; the smell of cigarettes, liquor, and swamp mixing around in your nose. But there was something in the air; something electric, exciting; something new. You headed towards the studio where your dad told you he was working for the day. A young woman with an earpiece and a clip board found you at the entrance, a kind smile on her face. “You’re Y/N, right? Tommy’s daughter.”
You nodded, letting her lead you through the maze of sets until you walked into a large room with lights and cameras surrounding an area of floor that was set up to look like the set of one of Motley Crue’s old music videos. Your father was on the set, talking to two men who looked around your age and Jeff Tremaine, the film’s director. You hesitantly walked further into the space, but not past the cameras, to alert him of your presence. This process was made much easier by your Uncle Nikki spotting you from across the room and shouting “Little Lee!”
Your dad, along with the men he was talking to and a few other people in the room, turned to look at you. You smiled shyly, sending a small wave to your dad’s best friend. Your dad beckoned for you to join his conversation, wrapping an arm around your side once you landed next to him. “Hey kiddo, how was your flight?”
You leaned into his shoulder, “it was fine. Longer than I’d expected but, at least I’m here.” You took in the unfamiliar faces of the men surrounding you, eyes lingering on the man with bright blue eyes and a drumstick twirling around in his hands.
“Oh, shit, right. This is my oldest, Y/N.” Your dad introduced you to the guys. “Y/N you know Jeff, this is Douglas,” he motioned towards the guy with long black hair and two painted stripes under his eyes, “he’s playing Nikki in the movie.” You nodded, sending the man a smile which he returned brightly. “And this is Colson, he’s me.” He pointed to the man your eye had caught on, who sent you a wide grin.
“Nice to meet you.” You said, towards all the men, but your eyes still trapped in Colson’s blue ones.
The rest of the day was spent uneventfully. You watched the boys film scenes over the monitor with your dad, him feeding you commentary on what actually happened. Even though you’d heard most of the stories growing up, you let him retell them.
You kept finding your attention drifting towards the man with bright blue eyes, a long black wig, and a set of drumsticks always at hand. Your dad noticed, teasing you every chance he got. “He’s hot, right?”
“Dad!” You huffed.
He chuckled, “Just spitting facts. At least I’m not the one drooling over him like a teenage girl.”
You rolled your eyes, “I am 26 years old: I don’t drool over boys.”
“Oh, well, Colson’s a man.” He elbowed you jokingly.
“You’re annoying.”
“Passed it down to you, kiddo.”
Later on, he’d swear he had nothing to do with it, but you’d always suspected he told Colson about your attraction for the man, as after filming wrapped for the day, Colson asked you to dinner. It was quite honestly the best date you’d been on in a long time, and soon you were agreeing to another the next night.
With Colson everything seemed naturally easy. He was one of the sweetest, funniest guys you’d met, and you wouldn’t have to worry about your dad not liking him. The only problem was that you were only able to spend a week in New Orleans with him.
Day 6
“You live in LA, right?” He asked on the walk back to your apartment, his jacket slung around your shoulders.
You looked up at him with the same smile that had been on your face the entire night, “yeah, why?”
He let out a nervous chuckle, “well, I was hoping that when I get back to LA in a month, we could do this again?”
Your smile turned into a smirk, “are you asking me to wait for you, Colson Baker?”
“When you put it like that I sound like a fuckin dweeb.”
“I thought I was making you sound romantic.” You whined jokingly, hand reaching out to intertwine with his. “But if you were asking, I would say yes.”
“It’s a date.”
“You better call me while you’re gone though.”
He looked down at you with a confused expression, “what do you take me for, an idiot? I am going to be texting and calling you so much you’ll be begging me to stop.”
“Good.”
You swung your hands back in forth the rest of the way home, comfortable silence enveloping you. Colson walked you all the way to the door of your hotel room, leaning against the wall as you unlocked the door. You turned to him before making your way into the room, a sad smile on your face. “I’ll see you in a month?”
He leaned off the wall and moved to stand directly in front of you, hands grazing your hips lightly, hesitantly. “One very long month,” he mumbled, trying to burn your image into his memory.
“Well,” you started, “maybe you should give me something to remember you by.” Colson raised his eyebrow at you, feeling somewhat taken aback by your boldness. But then he remembered who your dad was and was much less surprised.
His grip on your hips tightened as he leaned in, lips colliding with yours. Your arms moved up his arms slowly, landing finally around his neck. The kiss was sweet and slow, something you would have never expected from looking at the man. His lips felt intoxicating, like you would die if you pulled apart. It had only been a single kiss, but you were already addicted.
You were broken out of your trance by cheering from the end of the hallway, a familiar voice calling out “that’s my girl!” Your face turned red as you pulled apart, finding your dad and his fiancé, Brittany, clapping at the end of the hallway.
“You are so fucking embarrassing.” You told him as he approached you and gave Colson a firm pat on the shoulders.
“It could be worse. If it was anyone else, I probably would’ve kicked his ass for even thinking about kissing you.” Tommy said, an innocent smile on his face. “But Colson, I will kill you if you fuck this up.”
The blond boy gave him a small salute, “yes sir.”
Day 34
Your text tone rang from your phone as you sat on your couch, watching TV.
Colson:
Be ready in 45
Even though you’d spent the last 4 weeks facetiming him, you weren’t fully convinced that Colson would keep good on his promise to see you again once he got back in town. You’d been pretty convinced he wouldn’t as the days dragged on with no mention of his return or a reunion. But here he was, telling you to be ready for something.
You texted him back
Wait… are you serious?
When he responded with a
Flight just landed, yes I’m serious.
You squealed, rushing around the house to get ready. The simple thought of seeing him in person, of hopefully tasting his intoxicating lips again, made your heart flutter. And then he was knocking on your door. When you opened it to see him standing there, a single rose in his hand and a nervous smile on his face, you wanted to jump into his arms.
He was a gentleman the entire night, opening your door for you, pulling out your chair, complimenting you. Everything just felt so perfect. And when he walked you up to your door and kissed you goodnight, you swooned.
Day 50
You were sat on his couch, your back resting against his chest as some movie played on the TV. One of his hands was wrapped around your waist, the other intertwined with your own. You’d been sitting in relative silence for a while, save for the noise from the TV.
But that was broken when Colson spoke softly, “I know this is lame but like, I gotta make sure. You’re my girlfriend, right?”
You chuckled lightly at his lame attempt to ask you to be his girlfriend. “No, I’ve just been going out on dates with you and not talking to anyone else for shits and giggles.”
He let out a breath of air from his nose humorously, “Okay cool.”
“That was a yes, by the way.” You turned your head and leaned up to press a soft, strained kiss to his lips.
“Cool.”
Day 96
You were half asleep, wrapped up in Colson’s arms on his bed. Your head rested on his chest, eyes struggling to stay open. Colson was just as tired of you were, his words slowing when he said, “I think I’m in love with you.”
You mumbled out a lazy “really?” too tired to be shocked at the gravity of what he was saying. Truthfully, you weren’t all that surprise at the admission, as you had been looking for the right way to express the same sentiment.
“Yeah. I’m pretty fuckin’ in love with you.”
“Sweet” You mumbled, pressing a small kiss to his bare chest.
His chest shook with a silent giggle, “Cool.”
“I love you too.” You said, snuggling closer into him.
“Sweet.”
”Cool.”
Day 102
You were making pancakes at your stove, Colson’s arms wrapped around you from behind. He’d been staying the night at your house for almost a week, simulating the feeling of living with you. You couldn’t admit that the thought wasn’t attractive, having him around almost all the time was amazing and something you were afraid of ending.
“Hey, could I ask you something?” He mumbled as you watched the pancakes cook. You hummed a response and he continued, “my daughter’s gonna be in town next week. I was hoping you’d meet her.”
You bit your lip, a grin growing on your face. You knew meeting Casie was a big deal to Colson, he had told you many times how important she was to him. He didn’t let her meet just anyone in his life. “Yeah, I’d love that.”
But then that thought crossed through your mind; the one that would raise your anxiety levels for the next seven days. What if Casie doesn’t like me?
If Casie didn’t like you, things with you and Colson would be over. He didn’t even have to tell you that, you just knew. And you couldn’t blame him; she’s the most important person in his life. But you loved Colson, and you wanted him to be around for a while. So, if you made a bad first impression, everything would crumble down.
And that’s exactly what you told him a few days later while you lay in bed, Ferris Bueller playing in the background as you traced the outlines of his tattoos.
Day 106
“What if Casie doesn’t like me?”
“Babe, she’s nine years old. She’ll get over it.” He kissed the top of your head lightly, fingers running up and down your spine.
“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t? I know you won’t wanna be with me if she doesn’t approve. And I don’t blame you. I don’t want to be with you if she doesn’t want me to be.”
He grabbed your chin, pulling you to look at him, “you worrying right now is exactly the reason she’s gonna love you and the reason why I already do.” He kissed you softly, your eyes fluttering closed. He still manages to take your breath away.
“I love you too,” you whispered, “I’m just scared of losing you.”
He chuckled, “Casie’s tough, I won’t lie, but she’s going to see just how amazing you are and fall right in love with you. And, if you want extra brownie points, you should let her help you bake something.”
“Was that accidental or were you trying to make a really bad pun?”
He pressed another kiss to your lips, chuckling slightly, “they don’t call me comedy genius for nothing, babe.”
“No one calls you that.”
Day 109
Colson had decided it would be best for you and Casie to meet at his house, mostly because he hated taking Casie out in LA. He’d ordered dinner to be delivered and told you he’d stocked up on baking supplies for you and Casie. Now all you had to do was show up.
He answered the door, pulling you in for a long kiss as soon as he saw you. “I love you.” He whispered, trying to ease your nerves. You spoke the words back to him, letting him take your hand and lead you inside. “Hey, Case, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
You’d seen Casie through pictures that Colson had shown you or from around the house, but she seemed so much prettier in person. You could tell by the way she moved that she took after her father, just like people always said about you. “I’m Y/N.” You said shyly, a soft smile on your face.
Casie beamed up at you, “I’m Casie. Dad talks about you a lot.”
You chuckled, turning to him, “he does?”
She nodded, “he thinks you’re great.”
“I think he’s pretty great too.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “He tells me about you all the time.”
“Really?”
You smiled at her excitement, “heck yeah. I was so scared to meet you because of how cool he makes you sound.”
The three of you ate dinner, chatting conversation. You were less nervous than before; Casie seeming to like you, but you were still on edge. When you finished, Colson announced, “I happen to know that two of the best cookie makers in California are sitting at this table and I am not one of them.” He looked between you and Casie, a smile on his face. “So, I believe cookies are in order.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on your face. “You’re helping us.”
Casie nodded, “every master chef needs an assistant.”
“She speaks truth.”
Colson pouted at both of you, “I was gonna be the judge.”
Casie giggled, getting up from the table and dragging her dad by the arm to the kitchen. “Too bad!”
You stayed at the table, picking up dishes and taking them to the sink before joining the other two at the counter in front of a large bowl and a variety of ingredients. Colson was currently holding a bag of chocolate chips over Casie’s head as she jumped to reach it, failing miserably. “Y/N he won’t give me the chocolate chips.” She whined.
You gave Colson a stern look, “hand them over, noodle boy.” You held out your hand and he placed the bag into your palm, a pout on his face. Casie laughed, repeating the phrase “noodle boy” to herself as you handed her the bag.
“So, are you two just gonna team up against me the whole night?” He asked, looking between you two.
Casie and you made eye contact, firmly shaking your heads, “absolutely” you said at the same time.
#mgk#mgk imagine#mgk fluff#machine gun kelly#machine gun kelly imagine#colson imagine#machine gun kelly x reader#Colson baker#colson x reader#colson baker imagine#colson baker fluff#tommy lee
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you're the pink in my cheeks (i'm a little bit soft)
summary: "and i know we'll never grow old together / cause you'll never grow old to me / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft"
- "monster," marceline (adventure time)
(OR: 5.4k of soft domestic lesbian!analogical, featuring lesbian!moceit, trans male!remus, trans female!roman, and Gay Shenanigans)
a/n: huge thank you to dandie for beta'ing this fic!
i just wanted to write wlw is that so wrong of me? no. no it is not.
CW: alcohol mentions, a few sex jokes, swearing, one implied instance of potential sexual activity (although it doesn't go any farther than making out; if you want to skip that part, skip the section that starts with "Did you get the right kind of popcorn?")
word count: ~5.4k
read it on ao3!!
“I think I may be going insane,” Logan says, squinting at her laptop screen. Virginia, hanging upside-down in the armchair, looks up from her phone and blinks.
“And why is that?”
“Because I am starting to agree with Rosie’s anti-Florida agenda.”
“I didn’t realize that there was an anti-Florida agenda.”
“Rosie has one, and I have always thought it facetious. However, if this laboratory does not start sending me my requested samples and information in a timely manner, I will be forced to concede that Rosie may have . . . a point.”
“You, agreeing with a lit major? I never thought I’d see the day,” Virginia teases. Logan initially resists the urge to stick her tongue out or flip Virginia off, because that would be childish, but then she remembers that Virginia does not care about her childishness, so she sticks her tongue out. Virginia snorts with laughter, and Logan feels warm, fizzy pop-rocks bursting in her chest.
Her phone buzzes next to her, and she picks it up. There’s a new message blinking for her attention on the screen.
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
a, b, or c
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
. . . What?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
*rolls eyes*
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
i need you to make a selection, logan. a, b, or c.
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
I am confused. What am I selecting between?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Yes. I would like to know. That is why I asked you.
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Also, I am not a meteorologist. Or a boy.
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
it’s a meme, i’m sure v will be happy to show you the og. but first: make a choice
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Option B, I suppose?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
vodka it is!
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Wait, what?
Her phone buzzes again, another text thread lighting up, and Logan abandons the now-fruitless conversation with Jan to see that her wife has texted.
[from: soda poppy]
y is jan fillin a thermos with vodka and sayin u gave her the go ahead? >:(
[to: soda poppy]
I am unsure. She texted me asking me to make a choice between “a, b, and c” with no context given. When I eventually selected “b,” she excitedly mentioned vodka and logged off.
[from: soda poppy]
her an remy r going 2 a pta meeting tonight an i guess they’re goin drunk
[to: soda poppy]
Is that a . . . normal occurrence?
[from: soda poppy]
sadly yeah
[to: soda poppy]
Wait, is she even allowed to attend PTA meetings? You two don’t have any children?
[from: soda poppy]
she’s on the school board so she has the right 2 attend. idk if she’s supposed to or not but its never stopped her b4
“Everythin’ good over there?” Virginia asks.
“I believe I may have just enabled Jan to attend a PTA meeting drunk.” Virginia snorts, swiping at her phone.
“Good for her, honestly. The only reason she and Poppy live in that neighborhood is so that Jan can flaunt her wife in front of all the capital-s Straight people, because she’s a petty fuckin’ bitch.”
“That is a strange word choice for your best friend.”
“I hate Jan, she’s a bitch,” Virginia says, smirking fondly at her phone. Logan knows her girlfriend well enough to know that this statement is disingenuous, so she stands up, stretching her arms above her head, and leans down to drop a kiss onto Virginia’s forehead.
*~*~*~*~*
Logan blinks awake slowly, feeling for the position of her limbs. She’s on her left side, left arm tucked up under her pillow to cradle her head, wrapped in the thick comforter of their bed. Her right arm is slung across Virginia’s body, and her girlfriend is pressed up against her, head tucked right under Logan’s chin and face nestled into her neck and chest. Virginia breathes, slow and deep and even, and Logan hums, huffing out a soft exhale.
She carefully wiggles out of bed, tucking the comforter around Virginia’s curled-up form. Virginia grumbles when the cool morning air slips against her skin, because she is a foolish woman who insists upon sleeping in short shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top no matter the current weather patterns. Logan wraps her up, making sure that she’s shifted into the middle of the warm divot of body heat, and Virginia settles in, asleep again in a heartbeat.
Logan turns to the corner chair, where her early-morning outfit is already laid out: athletic leggings, a sports bra, a moisture-wicking quarter zip jacket. She changes quietly, lights off, and tugs on a pair of ankle socks before slinking into the bathroom. Once the door is shut, she flicks on the soft lights over the vanity and carefully undoes her sleep braid. Normally, Virginia does Logan’s hair, because Logan is not good at dealing with her wavy, tangled, curly mess, but she won’t wake up her girlfriend for that. She can, at bare minimum, pull her hair up into a high ponytail for running purposes.
They live in a small town only a short walk (and even shorter bike ride) from the beach, full of little two-story brightly-colored beach cottages. Logan steps off her front porch, pulls out her phone, and quickly shoots a text.
[to: ginny <3]
I am headed to the beach for my weekly run. I will likely return before you wake up, but in case I do not: I will be back before 9 AM.
[to: ginny <3]
I love you <3
Logan kicks up the kickstand on her bike, runs her fingers over the glossy dark-blue paint flecked with white and silver and gold to mimic stars, and swings one leg over the bike seat. She carefully pedals out into the narrow road and heads for the beach. The cool early-morning air whips past her face, and she chances a glance up at the dark-blue-turning-light-blue-grey sky and smiles.
She’s always been an early-morning morning person, anyway.
*~*~*~*~*
Logan’s sneakers dig into the hard-packed wet sand along the water’s edge as she runs. Seagulls scatter in front of her, and the podcast Virginia recommended hums in her ear. The sun creeps up, up, up onto the horizon, coloring the blue-grey into streaks of brilliant pink and orange and gold, light reflecting off the water in resplendent diamond sparkles.
Logan runs half a mile down the beach, turns around, runs back to where she started and then runs half a mile in the other direction before turning around and running back to her starting point. By the time she’s bent over, hands on her knees, huffing out breath while her legs burn pleasantly, the sun has emerged fully from the ocean, and Logan is beginning to wish she had worn a visor.
She takes a moment to appreciate the sensory experiences of being on a nearly-abandoned beach: the scent of salt water, the sound of waves crashing against sand, the errant cries of gulls squabbling over fish. Their little beach is not nearly pristine enough for a tourist attraction, and too far north along the Atlantic coast to be warm year-round. Still, Logan loves it, and cannot imagine living anywhere else.
She hunts along the water’s edge as she walks, briefly, a cool-down before the bike ride home. She finds a few things worth photographing, a few crabs to shoo back into the ocean, and a few things worth gathering: an intact clam shell whose smooth curve runs unbroken from the heel of her palm to the tip of her index finger when she lays it flat in her hand, a light gray rock worn smooth by the waves that turns dark-gray-almost-black when wet, a small spiral shell that she thinks may have broken off of the top of a snail shell. Logan wraps all three things carefully in a small handkerchief from the little bag she keeps in her bike basket, pulling out her phone to note the time (8:37 AM) and the message notification flashing at her.
[from: ginny<3]
dunno why you insist on being a morning person. stop by the dunkin on your way back and get us breakfast?
[to: ginny<3]
You had Dunkin for breakfast three times this week. You should consume something healthy.
[from: ginny <3]
>:( >:( >:( >:(
[from: ginny <3]
counterpoint: you bringing me dunkin is better than me not eating breakfast at all. which is the alternative because i do not want to get up and prepare anything
[to: ginny <3]
Your womanly wiles will not work on me in regards to Dunkin breakfast.
[from: ginny <3]
bitch (affectionate)
[to: ginny <3]
Would you like me to make you breakfast on my return, beloved?
[from: ginny <3]
. . .
[from: ginny <3]
will you make me an omelette? with all the cheesy goo an shit?
[to: ginny <3]
I will make you an omelette with some degree of “cheese goo.”
Logan slides her phone into her pocket, huffing out a laugh at her girlfriend’s behavior, and hops onto her bike again.
*~*~*~*~*
“Your omelettes are always so much better than mine,” Virginia says, moaning as she sinks her teeth into an enormous bite of egg and cheese. Logan, calmly dicing bell peppers to mix into her own omelette, smiles.
“All food tastes better when it is prepared by someone who is not you.”
“You’ve clearly never had anything the twins have cooked.” Virginia takes another bite, pops a multivitamin into her mouth, and chases it down with a gulp of milk. “Besides, it tastes better because you made it.”
“I am not the most accomplished chef in the world, certainly, but I am glad you enjoy my cooking.”
Virginia laughs softly. “Lo, I like your food because it’s prepared by someone who loves me. I can taste the love in everything you make for me.”
Logan turns back to her peppers to hide her blush. “Love is not a measurable ingredient when cooking.” Virginia laughs again, louder this time; when Logan sets the knife down, she hears Virginia’s chair scrape out behind her as she stands, feels her arms wrap around her waist, feels the cool skin of her face press into her neck.
“Love you.”
*~*~*~*~*
“Stressful day at work?” Logan asks, hearing the door slam.
Virginia kicks off her flats, sending them flying into the wall with a clatter. Logan sets down her crochet project and moves toward the entrance of their house, where Virginia is shrugging off her rainjacket to reveal a mint-green Peter Pan-collared blouse and dark gray dress pants. “The stressiest.”
Logan takes the jacket and shakes it out on the tiled entranceway before hanging it on the hook. “I am sorry, beloved.”
“Lots of assessments, lots of parents who don’t understand why I’m assessing their kid, lots of parents insisting that there’s nothing wrong with their kid, or that there’s no way their kid could possibly have the deficits that I’m seeing. Like, I wouldn’t make this shit up, you know? Literally, let me help your child. You came to me, remember? I’m not in the habit of imposing myself onto people.”
“That sounds very stressful,” Logan says. She tries to picture a life where she spends all her time interacting with people she doesn’t know on a regular basis instead of her little corner of the university biochemistry lab where she only has to interact with three or four known people and her immediate supervisor, mostly by email. It sends icy fingers skittering down her spine.
“It is, I hate it. I mean, Kitty’s my supervisor until I get my C’s, so if I have problems I can consult with her, but like . . . why are people the way that they are.”
Logan stretches up and presses a gentle kiss to Virginia’s cheek. “I love you, Ginny.”
Virginia exhales and folds herself around Logan, draping her body over her girlfriend and going limp and boneless. “I don’t wanna be a real person for the rest of the night.”
“That can be arranged.”
“But it’s my night to make dinner.”
“I do not mind switching and having you make dinner tomorrow,” Logan says. “This is an acceptable deviation from the routine.” Virginia pushes her face into Logan’s neck, and Logan nuzzles the side of her head, and she sighs like the entire world has lifted off her chest.
*~*~*~*~*
(This is how it starts:
Logan, taking a class on British literature in her sophomore year because she needs to meet her core requirements. Logan, meeting Rosie, disagreeing with her on almost every single point she raises in class, hating when they’re paired up for their midterm project but earning the best grade in the class overall. Logan, seeing a text from Rosie about how her housemate needs people to participate in a research study for extra credit. Logan, making the long trek down to the health sciences building and seeing Virginia for the first time, thinking that she’s pretty and not knowing that she’ll be thinking that for the rest of her life.)
*~*~*~*~*
“Hello, gorgeous,” Virginia hums.
“Are you talking to me or to the mint plant?” Logan says, aggressively stabbing her pointer finger against the Delete key. It clacks loudly, and she mutters an insult under her breath. “I am going to set myself on fire. I swear to god, I am.”
“Obviously the mint plant,” Virginia says, turning and dropping a kiss on Logan’s head. “You okay, honey?” Logan grumbles more and shoves the laptop away from her with a disgruntled noise. Virginia moves the laptop away and leans over to kiss her forehead.
“I am trying to politely word an email whose essence boils down to, ‘If you do not send me my fucking samples in a timely manner, I am going to be forced to commit an Atrocity the likes of which this earth has never seen’,” Logan says.
Virginia laughs so hard that she sits down on the tiled kitchen floor, wiping tears from her eyes. “You are so funny,” she wheezes. Logan feels her irritation fade a little under the brightness of her girlfriend’s joy. “Let me see the email, I’m good at professional bullshitting.”
*~*~*~*~*
“Braid my hair!” Rosie says, throwing herself down onto the couch. Logan lifts her laptop up just in time to keep Rosie’s head from slamming into the keyboard.
“Ginny is your best bet for braids, Rosie. I have limited experience.”
“It doesn’t have to be fancy, It just has to be off my neck.”
Logan saves her document and sets her laptop on the coffee table, poking at Rosie’s ribs until she slides onto the floor and settles cross-legged between Logan’s thighs. “A comb and some hair-ties would be appreciated.”
“REMUS!” Rosie shouts.
“WHAT?”
“BRING ME A BRUSH AND SOME HAIR BANDS!”
“GET YOUR OWN!”
“I’m going to kill that man,” Rosie mutters, rolling to her feet. There are suspicious muffled thumping noises from the other room for a few minutes before Rosie emerges, victorious, hair somehow even messier than it was in the first place.
“You are the single loudest person I have ever met,” Logan sighs, taking the comb and the hair ties and beginning to drag it through Rosie’s curls. Rosie winces, just a little, at the pull of the comb, and Logan tries to be more gentle.
“Thank you!”
“I did not say that was a compliment.
“Hey!”
*~*~*~*~*
Logan tugs her sweatshirt sleeves down from where she’d rolled them up previously, shivering a little. Part of her wishes that she had worn leggings instead of capris as she drags the folding chair a little closer to the bonfire, toes dragging through the still-sun-warmed sand. The speaker set up on the food table blasts some sort of current pop music, and Rosie and Poppy dance around each other, chanting the lyrics at each other. They are both very loud and very off-key and, Logan suspects, fairly drunk as well. Remus is in the ocean (definitely buzzed, potentially naked) and Jan is standing at the edge of the ocean, watching to make sure he stays alive.
“Hey,” someone says, low and rumbling in her ear. Logan does not flinch (just barely) and turns to see Virginia, holding a plastic cup with a poorly-drawn sketch of the state of Virginia on it. Her hair is starting to come loose from its messy bun, and her sweater sleeves keep sliding down over her wrists and nearly dunking into her drink, and her breath smells sweet and alcoholic. When she lifts her hand to Logan’s cheek, her fingers are cool, and Logan shivers.
“How’s my girl?” Virginia asks.
“Cold,” Logan answers honestly. Virginia laughs, tipping her head back and exposing the long strip of her neck. Logan wants to lick it.
“You’re adorable,” Virginia says, leaning in and pressing her mouth against Logan’s ear. Her breath is warm and slightly damp. “So pretty, my Logan, and so smart. I bet you know exactly what chemical compounds are making the flames turn that color, hmmm?”
Logan can feel her face burning hotter than the bonfire, but Virginia just sits languidly in her lap, feet propped up on the armrest. Her toes are painted pale purple, and the glitter sparkles in the firelight.
“How many drinks have you had?” Logan asks.
“Enough to feel all tingly,” Virginia says, swirling whatever’s in her cup. “How many have you had?”
“None,” Logan answers honestly. Virginia leans her head against Logan’s shoulder, and her wispy frizz tickled Logan’s nose. She sneezes, and Virginia giggles in the high-pitched, superficial way she only giggles when she gets really, really drunk.
“You sound so cute when you sneeze.”
“I do not.”
“Of course you do,” and now Virginia is looking at her, eyes glowing warm in the firelight. “You sound cute when you do anything. You’re cute when you exist. You’re cute no matter what. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
Logan hates the taste of alcohol, but she leans in and kisses Virginia anyway.
*~*~*~*~*
“Lo.”
“Hmmm?”
“Pick a color.”
“What?”
“I’m painting my toes again. Pick a color for me.”
Logan flops over onto her stomach, staring at the neat row of creme polishes sitting on their ottoman. Virginia’s bare feet are propped up in front of them, spread apart awkwardly with neon lemon gel toe spreaders, and she studies the nail polish like she’s trying to determine which vial isn’t poisoned.
“I like that one,” she says finally, pointing to a pale pink polish the color of the flowers Virginia brought her on their first date. Virginia hums, picking the bottle up and tilting it critically in the light.
“Not the one I would have picked, but I said you could pick, so I guess we’re doing it.”
Virginia tosses some bottles of toppers (or “tacos” as she calls them, slang from one of the YouTubers she likes) onto the bed while she paints her toes, and Logan sifts through them to settle on a blue-yellow iridescent one.
“I do not know how you can get behind wearing something called a Unicorn Skin,” Logan says. Virginia just shrugs and plucks the bottle from her hand. Their fingers overlap - Logan’s warm from where they’ve been tucked under her body, Virginia’s cool from where they’ve been gripping the glass bottle. Impulsively, Logan lifts Virginia’s fingers and kisses the tips.
“You’re going to smear the polish,” Virginia mutters, even though she painted her fingers earlier today and they’ve been dry for a while. She doesn’t bother to yank her fingers away, either, so Logan kisses them again.
*~*~*~*~*
“Logan!”
Logan is fully aware that the only thing keeping Poppy from crashing into her like a floral-sundress-covered cannonball is the casserole dish in her hands. She counts her blessings and steps aside to let Poppy in.
“Where’s Jan?”
“Getting something from the car! It’s my turn to drive us home, so she brought something to drink.”
Jan primly kicks the passenger side door shut with her heeled ankle boots, a bottle of wine grasped by the neck in each hand.
“I hope you do not intend to drink both of those in their entirety tonight,” Logan says. Jan rolls her eyes and offers one of the bottles to her.
“This one is a gift for you and Ginia. The other one is for me.”
“None for Poppy?”
“Poppy is the designated driver, so she will not be drinking. And I know she already told you that.” Logan rolls her eyes, and Jan flips her off. “Are you going to invite me in or not?”
“What are you, a vampire?” Virginia shouts from the kitchen.
“Only one of us dresses like the undead, darling, and it isn’t me,” Jan calls back, stepping into the house. “Are the twins here yet?”
“They cannot attend. Remus has orchestra practice and Rosie is teaching a dance class. You already knew both of these facts, because you are in the group text.”
“I am not.”
“You responded to a message in the group thread fifteen minutes ago.”
“That was the NSA agent assigned to monitor me.”
“You are a liar.”
“What else is new?”
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
soda poppy: hey every1! DONUT 4get to make ur bakesale goodies and drop them off at r house by 7 am on fri!
lo tide: Please use normal words. I am begging you.
snesbian (snake lesbian): then beg.
lo tide: I do not recall asking for your opinion.
snesbian (snake lesbian): and yet i give it to you anyway. am i not generous
virgin: if you don’t stop making fun of my gf i swear to god
virgin: also remus if you don’t stop changing my name i’m gonna end you
virgin has changed their name to gin(ny) and tonic!
gin(ny) and tonic: much better anyway
violets are blue rosie is me: i believe you meant anygay
gin(ny) and tonic: i said what i fucking said
ace attorney irl: you changed your name :(
gin(ny) and tonic: every day the Lord regrets giving all of us mod powers in this chat
snesbian (snake lesbian): i have no such regrets
lo tide: Can we circle back to the bake sale, please?
soda poppy: Whatchu wanna kno???
lo tide: I assume it is school related?
soda poppy: yep!
soda poppy: fundraising 4 this year’s art club field trip! since im the faculty advisor im in charge of approving and setting up 4 the fundraisers
lo tide: I see. And why, exactly, is it our responsibility to make things for this fundraiser? Should it not be the students’ responsibility?
soda poppy: they r makin stuff 4 it but also i gotta make sure some of the stuff will b edible yknow
lo tide: I see.
gin(ny) and tonic: listen i know that jan is like. a professional pastry chef an shit. but i’m not making anything fancy like a cheesecake or smthn
gin(ny) and tonic: i’m making like. fuckin brownies
snesbian (snake lesbian): smh don’t you care about the Children at all?
gin(ny) and tonic: no. they’re not my kids
ace attorney irl: i will make cookies
soda poppy: u cannot make them inappropriate shapes
ace attorney irl: :(
violets are blue rosie is me: do not worry, i will make sure they are an appropriate shape
violets are blue rosie is me: i’ll make cupcakes!
lo tide: I believe I have a recipe for lemon squares that I can make. Will lemon squares be sufficient?
soda poppy: yeah! just keep ur stuff free of common allergens like tree nuts
gin(ny) and tonic: so my plan to just yeet you a bag of reese’s peanut butter cups and call it a contribution is out then
*~*~*~*~*
Virginia throws a box of brownie mix into the cart and dusts her hands off. “There. Done.”
Logan raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t give me that look, we have the rest of the ingredients at home. We have tap water, we have oil, we have eggs, we don’t need anything else. What do we need for your lemon thingies?”
“Lemons, presumably.”
“You’re a comedian,” Logan deadpans. Virginia flips her off, and then leans in to kiss her cheek. “I do need lemons, though. Lemons, more eggs . . . I have a list in my phone.”
“What phone?” Virginia says, dangling Logan’s galaxy-patterned case above her head. “I think you’re too short for this, Lo.”
“Give me my phone,” Logan says, rolling her eyes. Virginia wiggles it above her head, laughing.
“Maybe you should give me something in return.”
“Like what?”
Virginia grins. “Like a kiss, perhaps?”
Logan rolls her eyes again, but she leans in and kisses Virginia gently, swiping her phone back when Virginia lowers her hand to cup her face. “Thank you for paying the toll, sweetheart.”
“You are ridiculous,” Logan says. It doesn’t stop her from gently kissing Virginia’s cheek before pushing the cart down the aisle again.
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
lo tide: What time did you want us to drop off the baked goods, Poppy?
soda poppy: if ur gonna b in the area, u can just drop them off at my house!
ace attorney irl: i made some of the shapes inappropriate but those ones r 4 u and jan
soda poppy: what did u make 4 the bake sale?
ace attorney irl: . . .
soda poppy: what did u make 4 the children, remus.
ace attorney irl: nothin’ too crazy! jan had some normal summer shapes - suns, flip flops, etc. etc. used those
soda poppy: :D thx remus!
ace attorney irl: made some fishies too! but the octopi are just for u an jan.
ace attorney irl: i . . . may have painted dicks on them
soda poppy: well at least u warned me right
*~*~*~*~*
“Did you get the right kind of popcorn?” Logan asks.
“If by ‘the right kind’ you mean ‘your favorite kind,’ then yes, I did,” Virginia says, coming into the living room with a large yellow bowl full of fluffy popcorn. “What are we watching tonight? It’s your turn to pick, isn’t it?”
“Gay fish,” Logan says.
Virginia sets the popcorn on the coffee table and blinks at her. “That is . . . quite the description of Finding Nemo, sweetheart.”
“Not Finding Nemo, Ginny. Luca. It’s new, and it’s not explicitly gay, but there is a very obvious queer reading. I thought we could watch it together.”
“Anything with you sounds wonderful.”
“Sap,” Logan mutters. She leans in to kiss Virginia’s cheek, but Virginia turns at the last moment and presses their lips together.
“Are you sure you want to watch a movie?” she says. “We could just make out instead, if you want.” She pushes gently on Logan’s stomach, guiding her to lay on her back on the couch. Virginia lays on top of her, gently sliding a hand to rest warm and heavy on her stomach. She leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s neck, and then her jaw, and then rubbing their noses together.
“Tonight is movie night,” Logan says. Virginia presses their mouths together, and Logan hums, gently pressing up into the kiss. “We should be watching a movie.”
“Are you sure?” Virginia says. “I think we should pursue this avenue a little further.”
Logan squirms a little. “I - I would not - um - no, thank you.”
Virginia’s eyes, which were hazing over with something, clear as she blinks. “Okay, sweetheart.” She leans back, sits up, pulls Logan into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” she says. “I just - I am not in the mood for that tonight. If that is okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” Virginia says. She holds out a hand, and Logan takes it. Virginia kisses the back of it before settling herself on the couch. “I am so proud of you for expressing a boundary and telling me you were uncomfortable. I know that expressing boundaries is something that we’re both working on, and you did a wonderful job. Tell me what you want, Lo. Please?”
“I would like a kiss,” Logan says. “Just one. And then I would like to cuddle, and - and I would like us to watch Luca together. Is that acceptable?”
Virgil nods. “Of course, love. Come here, hmmm?” Logan settles next to her, and Virginia gently cups her cheek and presses their mouths together. “I love you, Logan. So much. Of course we can watch Luca now.”
Virginia lays an arm along the top of the couch, allowing Logan to cuddle up against her and rest her head on her chest. “I love you,” Logan says softly.
“I love you too, sweetpea.”
*~*~*~*~*
Logan rolls over, yawning, and feels a small weight displace itself from her thighs. She blinks awake slowly, lifting her head and pushing her curtain of curls aside to reveal a black cat mewing at her grumpily before settling into a sushi roll beside her.
“Did I wake you? I am sorry, Galileo . . .”
Galileo settles against her, purring softly, while the ash-grey cat at the foot of the bed pads slowly up to curl on Virginia’s back. “That’s your favorite spot, isn’t it, Andromeda?” The cat emits a soft “mrrrp” before settling back down to sleep. Logan yawns, smiles, and gently strokes her hears. “What should we do, girls? Shall we stay awake and be productive members of society?”
Neither cat responds, and Logan looks at Virginia. She’s haloed in the morning light, eyes tightly shut, mouth hanging open, drool leaking into a puddle on the pillow. She snores a little - one, two, three snorts before settling back into a deep sleep.
“No,” Logan decides, “we shall not.” She lays back down, gently nudging Galileo a few inches over so that she can snuggle up to Virginia. Galileo stretches out, pressing a paw directly into Logan’s cheek. Logan shoves her, and she resettles onto Logan’s feet with an indignant noise.
“You can sleep by my face when you do not kick my face,” Logan mutters, curling into her love.
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
soda poppy: r u all comin 2 the bake sale 2morrow?!
lo tide: I was under the impression that we were only providing the baked goods. Is it not for the students at the school?
soda poppy: we got waaaayyyy more stuff than we thought so we r havin a 2nd bakesale 2morrow 4 parents an stuff!
soda poppy: we r gonna need sum help with setup though . . .
lo tide: Poppy, please do not even -
soda poppy: 🥺🥺🥺 p l e a s e
lo tide: Poppy.
snesbian (snake lesbian): logan
lo tide: If I agree to stop and pick up coffee for everyone, will that motivate you all to turn out?
violets are blue rosie is me: i’m always a slut for free coffee
lo tide: I’m sorry, where did I say that this would be free?
violets are blue rosie is me: D:<
ace attorney irl: eh i’m down for it. where you swingin’ by?
soda poppy: there’s a panera p close 2 where the bake sale is!!! it’s gonna b at the morning girl’s basketball game
lo tide: Does anyone have any issues with Panera coffee?
violets are blue rosie is me: nah. large iced coffee, add three ounces of half and half, two pumps of sugar syrup, two pumps of vanilla, and caramel drizzle.
ace attorney irl: complicated bitch much?
violets are blue rosie is me: why must the cain instinct betray me like this
ace attorney irl: the cain instinct started when we stole each other’s genders in the womb
violets are blue rosie is me: this is true this is true but you’re still a bitch
ace attorney irl: large hazelnut coffee, two sugars, please
snesbian (snake lesbian): large dark roast, black
soda poppy: medium decaf coffee, two ounces of almond milk, and two pumps of sugar syrup!
gin(ny) and tonic: large caramel latte
lo tide: You . . . are going to ride in the car with me to pick up the coffee, we can order our own coffees. I do not need your order, love.
lo tide: But I appreciate the information <3 <3
*~*~*~*~*
“We come bearing gifts,” Virginia announces loudly. “And by gifts, I mean we bought a baker’s dozen of cinnamon crunch bagels for everybody.”
“Well, there are twelve cinnamon crunch bagels and one plain bagel, bagged separately, for me,” Logan corrects, expertly balancing two coffee trays with a bagel container. “Also, we made more brownies.”
Poppy looks up from where she’s instructing two high-schoolers on how to hang a sign properly and grins, waving brightly. Jan is leaning on the table, hand on her head, sipping at a water bottle.
“Vodka or whiskey?” Logan asks dryly, handing over Jan’s black coffee. Jan blinks at her, flips her off, and drains a long swig from her cup.
“Water. Partied a little too hard with Remy last night, and now I’m hungover as shit.”
“We suspected as much, which is why we brought you an extra coffee.”
“Lifesaver,” Jan says, knocking back another long drag of coffee before taking a sip of her water bottle. (Logan suspects the bottle is actually Poppy’s, due to the sun-shiney stickers plastered all over it.) “You and Poppy both. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll gut you like a fish."
“No, you won’t,” Logan says, turning to hand Rosie and Remus their respective drinks. “You never do.”
Jan flips her off, but Virginia comes up behind her and leans her forehead against her shoulder. Logan turns, kissing her forehead, and smiles.
Life is good today, she thinks. Life is good.
(screen names!
virgin -> gin(ny) and tonic; ginny <3 = virginia (virgil)
lo tide = logan
snesbian (snake lesbian) = jan (janus)
soda poppy = poppy (patton)
ace attorney irl = remus
violets are blue rosie is me = rosie (roman) (thanks to @rosesisupposes for letting me borrow your screen name for this!)
#starshinewrites#fem!analogical au#analogical#moceit#trans creativitwins#ftm!trans remus#mtf!trans roman#it's just soft domestic lesbian analogical fluff#that's it that's the fic
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Pairing: Tommy x Fem!Reader
Summary: The seeds Tommy has sowed are bearing fruit in your life and your relationship.
Length: 1797 words (allegedly)
Warnings: “18+”, NSFW, lite Dom/sub, Consensual as all hell, cursing,
A/N: Surprise!
Part I | Part II
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Would you like to check?"
Your worried eyes shifted to the door of Tommy's office. You'd come to visit him after your shift at work, only to find that no one was there except Tommy, who was ruining his eyes by reading in the dim light of his office. You'd recently had a suspicion that Tommy was partial to your uniform that was a simple black dress, but intentionally a bit seductive with a cutout in the neckline and the above-the-knee hemline. It was a tactic to have happy customers and more tips, and now a way to have Tommy's hands on you as soon as possible. In this instance, you were pulled against him, your back to his chest while he caressed your neck and viewed your cleavage.
"No, no, I suppose I did watch you do it. And no one's here," you reminded yourself. "Alright, you can undress me."
"As you please, y/n."
The soft fabric peeled off your shoulders, revealing your neutral-toned underwear beneath. Tommy watched as if it was the first time. It had been a few weeks since that first night in your room. He'd made friends with your limits and pushed them in little ways while watching you bloom from each new experience. You'd described it as building momentum like a snowball down a hill. You boldly conquered something new in the bedroom, which gave you the energy to conquer something new in your daily life.
You finally signed up for bookkeeping classes, which Tommy would not by any means make you pay for. You would have fought him on it, but when Tommy told you it was because he took care of what belonged to him, you were too busy being weak in the knees. You'd also stopped taking shifts from the lush of a woman, Clara, who always wanted nights off to date the wealthy customers. She glared at first but then somehow deduced it was because you had a man of your own and consequently won't stop telling you about her adventures in hopes of swapping stories. You never would have thought that this, sex, would change you so much. But it was more than that.
Tommy led you to the couch, sitting you both down before having you straddle him. This was new. It wasn't that you opposed being on top, but Tommy always seemed to have a plan, and you enjoyed being obedient to a fault.
"I think you'll like this," Tommy said. "You've been very strong lately."
Strong.
That was it. It was more than the sex that gave you the energy to do more. It was Tommy. It was everything about him- the way he handled business and fought for his family. But even more, it was the way that he saw you. He was forward and precise in the way he praised you.
When you did something far out of your comfort zone and wanted to hide after, he praised your bravery and showed you there were other options other than embarrassment. When you felt awkward, he told you that you were sexy and how attracted to you he was. Even the smallest things like asking vaguely for "more" were praised, perhaps encouraging you to speak more during the act. Tommy's presence was more than enough to support you day in and day out.
Tommy watched a small smile spread on your face, and his brow furrowed a bit, but he smiled as well. What were you thinking about? Was it because he reminded you that you were strong? His praises were never a lie or a new goal for you. He only mentioned what he already saw.
"What is it?" You asked.
"I want you to ride me, sweetheart. I want to see you while you do it," Tommy said with a gruff voice. There was no need for hiding his arousal; you liked it when you could tell he enjoyed it too. You nodded, your lip between your teeth as you shifted in his lap. Tommy kissed you and spoke filthy words in your ear about how good you were and how he couldn't wait to see your pretty face when you came.
Your hands clenched his shirt even before he reached down to tease you over your panties. When you felt the cotton provide just a bit of relief beneath Tommy's nimble fingers, you slumped forward.
"You're so sensitive, sweetheart. Were you thinking about me at work today? Is that why you came over here to catch me when I'm alone?" He asked. Your eyes cast downward as your cheeks heated up. Tommy raised an eyebrow in surprise. Had you really? "Are you disappointed?"
"Oh, no, I," you stammered, not expecting a real question while your mind was still on release.
"I thought you'd be disappointed that no one's here. Wouldn't you like to let everyone know how good you can feel? How pretty you sound when you're begging?"
"Ah!" Your hips jerked at the thought of something so devious yet thrilling. Tommy paused for a moment. He thought you'd like this, but he didn't want to go too far. He supposed his encounters required bravery from him as well.
"I thought you were somewhat innocent y/n, but you're a whore, aren't you?" He was about to ask how you were when you ground down on his hand. You liked that.
"Tommy, I'm... I need permission."
"Already? I've barely even done anything. Should whores be able to,"
"Please," you cut him off with a resounding plea. Your face was buried in his shoulder, and you were rocking against his hand. His fingers slid between your lips, teasing your entrance and circling your clit, never giving too much but not withholding the most gratifying friction.
"No," he said, and you whined. "You're going to sit on my cock and show me how much you want it."
"Fuck."
You didn't swear often, so Tommy knew you were enjoying it. He tugged on your shorts.
"Take these off."
You stood to follow orders, and Tommy followed, ridding himself of his trousers as well. He sat first, pulling his hardened cock out of his boxers and stroking a few times before motioning for you to straddle again. You licked your lips unconsciously, and Tommy almost groaned as he motioned for you to return to your place.
You were erotic in your obedience and how you moved when you finally let go. The way you call him "Sir" turned you on. When you couldn't control the bucking of your hips. The whimper when he pulled out of you, and you wanted to be full again. And now, the way your mouth dropped open when you sunk down onto him.
"Just like dancing," he said, placing his hands on your waist. He guided you in rocking your hips forward and back, up and down, each time causing your breath to hitch. "Take the lead."
Your eyes met his, and you nodded. Every movement made you feel so full, and even the slightest shift grazed your slick walls perfectly. You moved up and sat fully again. Your rhythm was off for a moment, but you soon found your groove, and you were moving at a slow but steady pace. Tommy's hands gripped your waist, not guiding you but grounding himself. The position, his words, or perhaps a combination of both was making you drip and clench around him. Your eagerness was turning needy right before his eyes. He didn't know how much more he could take.
"Tommy, Sir, I'm so close. I want to come like this," you said quietly. Your eyes didn't leave him and your arms wrapped around his neck.
"I'll let you come all over my cock. Is that what you want?"
"Yes, I want to come all over your cock. I want to be a good girl, Tommy," you said. A thought flashed into your head and, before you could filter it, you were already saying, "Can't I be a good whore too? Just for you, Sir?"
Tommy's hips bucked up against you, making you both swear. You groaned and attempted to get the same feeling. You moved faster but dropped yourself down just as hard.
"Christ, love," Tommy groaned. "Say that again. Tell me what you want, and I'll let you have it."
"I want to be a good whore for you, Sir. And I want to come on your cock, Sir. And if anyone were here, I would want them to hear how good you make me feel."
Tommy wondered if you were trying to make him come first for a moment. What a naughty woman. Though the words still made your face hot, it was worth Tommy's permission to release and the feeling of him thrusting into you.
"That's it, love, take it. Take what you need," Tommy growled as you tightened around him. A rough thumb to your clit send you falling off the edge, but it was Tommy's firm grip holding you down on him and providing deep, short thrusts that left you incoherent. "Now stay just like that so you can take my seed, sweetheart."
You were sure he was saying words in your ear, but you couldn't hear them. You could only feel the second wave of pleasure coming towards you as Tommy milked you on his cock for his own satisfaction. This was the whore in you, you supposed. The enjoyment that came from feeling like you were used to meeting Tommy's needs. You wanted more of that. Could you ask for it? For Tommy to fuck you for his pleasure only, even leaving you with no release at all? The thought itself sent you crying out.
Your second orgasm was more than enough for Tommy to find his own release. You're trembling above him, still sopping wet. When you sat back, Tommy raised an eyebrow. Your eyes were glossy as you panted, and your hair that had been styled neatly was now a mess.
Tommy cleaned you both up, making sure to cover you in affection and remind you that the words said between you during play were for making you both feel good and nothing more. However, when you and Tommy got in his car so he could take you home, you took a tell-tale deep breath, letting Tommy know you had something to say.
"I liked that," you said first, knowing he was going to ask. Your eyes lowered to your wringing hands, and you said one thing that opened a new door for you both. "I like it when you're a little mean."
Tommy looked you over and smirked. He leaned over and kissed your temple before starting the engine.
"Okay, sweetheart. I'll remember that."
#As You Please Series#Tommy Shelby#Tommy Shelby Smut#Tommy Shelby Imagine#Tommy Shelby x Reader#Peaky Blinders Smut#Peaky Blinders Fanfic#Spicy Writing#Spicy Tommy
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birthday girl - calum hood
pairings: calum hood x reader
summary: it’s the reader’s 24th birthday, and somehow she can’t seem to keep her hands off of calum
genre: smut with a hint of fluff
warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, PROTECTED sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight daddy kink, teasing + degradation, calum being hot, also female pronouns!
word count: 1770
The faint smell of hairspray sat densely in the air as she checked her reflection one last time. The red on her lips sat bold, and the black material running down her body clung tight. She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, doubtfully swapping the combination before huffing and leaving them be.
She stared at her own face in the vanity as she began to lightly run her fingertips over every bump and blemish that held her skin prisoner. Before being able to pick apart every inch of her body, her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle call in the living room of her flat.
“Love, are you almost ready?”
She turned her head swiftly as she heard his approaching footsteps, seeing Calum appear in the doorway.
“You know it’s your birthday, right? You’re kind of the expected guest.” His low chuckle resonated through the room.
Her eyes scanned his face as if it would be the last time she saw him. Y/N found herself doing this frequently, and every time she would find something she hadn’t seen before. This time it was a small freckle just under his bottom lip.
She enjoyed these moments with Calum, the little things that made every day with him a new one. She’d never loved someone as much as she loved him and, quite like her boyfriend, once thought she’d never find it.
It was Calum’s teasing smile and quirked brow that prompted Y/N to realise she was staring at him and, with reddened cheeks, quickly turned to make herself busy.
“You look beautiful.” His hands fell upon her shoulders from behind, and she bathed in the comforting smell of his familiar cologne.
“So do you, handsome.” She said, smiling at him through the mirror.
Calum reached down to give a swift peck to the crown of her head before walking away, giving his girlfriend a gentle reminder of the time passing.
Placing her emergency kit into her purse, Y/N finally noticed the trousers that Calum had chosen to wear. Green and blue plaid adorned the muscles of his thighs, wrapping and moving in just the right places to make her palms sweaty.
She took incredible interest in the way the black shirt he’d tucked in was slightly unbuttoned to reveal two silver pendants resting on his toned chest. Her heart began racing as she fantasised kissing every inch that she could see.
She suspected he had picked these ones specifically for her birthday, knowing they were her favourite. Probably also knowing exactly how they made her feel.
After slipping her final foot into her heels, Y/N turned the light off in their shared bedroom and set her sights on seeking out Calum.
Finding him stood at their kitchen counter she took quick steps over to him, not hesitating to run her hands up his exposed chest to let them rest around the back of his neck.
Calum released a hum of satisfaction when his girlfriend planted her lips on the side of his neck. Placing one hand on her hip and the using the other to gently grab her chin, he pulled her gaze up to meet his.
“Was this morning not enough for you, princess?” When he received a shake of the head, he continued. “Oh and not at breakfast either? And then after the shower. And then-“
Y/N pulled his lips down to meet her own, not worrying in the slightest about the red stain she would leave after.
“C’mon, Cal,” She all but whined, “I need you.”
“And isn’t your life so hard, darling?” He tutted at her mockingly with a small pout, before squeezing her hip and walking away to grab his keys.
Calum let out a loud laugh when he heard Y/N’s dejected mutter about being the birthday girl.
———
The party was in full swing; people flooded every inch of the bar they had hired out, celebrities and friends alike. Shouted words were being exchanged over the bass of the music playing and shots were being thrown back like water.
Calum leant at the bar, nursing a drink in his hand, paying little attention to the story that Shawn Mendes had been telling him for the past 10 minutes.
Instead his gaze was focussed on his girl dancing across the room, happily being spun around by Luke and Ashton to the tune of Dancing Queen.
He had been watching for a while now. Seeing her like this with his band mates never bothered him, in fact Luke was the very reason Calum and Y/N knew each other at all.
Having met Y/N two years prior, Luke had invited her to his 21st knowing just how well she would get on with the bassist. Calum had thanked Luke more times than he could count for this, wondering every day how he had managed to find Calum his perfect half.
Now at his girlfriend’s 24th birthday, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. Not out of jealousy, but rather out of pure want. He’d scanned the way her figure moved around the dance floor so many times he was almost dizzy, but that didn’t stop him.
As the music faded and the beginning chords of Wicked Games played through the speakers, Calum excused himself from Shawn quickly and made his way over.
It didn’t take him long, as Y/N soon felt a pair of familiar hands touch upon her waist, and she barely had to look back to recognise who it was. She released her hold on Ashton’s hand and turned her body around fully to face her boyfriend.
“Well hello, stranger.” Y/N’s face gleamed at Calum’s in the dim light.
“Hey, gorgeous. Having a good time?”
He could barely hear the happy sigh that left her mouth over the music but felt a warm feeling spread in his chest as she announced, “The best!”.
Brushing a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, he leaned down to whisper, “You wanna make it even better?”
The excited look she was giving him quickly turned darker, as she took her own turn to whisper.
“Show me what you got, handsome.”
Ignoring the cheers from Luke and Ashton, Calum grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her from the crowd. The woman had to stop herself from all but pouncing on her boyfriend then and there, instead giving a polite smile to Michael and Harry, who seemed to be in an animated conversation.
Y/N thanked every entity she could think of that the bar they’d hired was nice enough to sport separate bathrooms. She sure wasn’t quiet with Calum, yet with the music blasting and their own room, she doubted they’d be heard by anyone.
Rushing in and locking the door, Calum immediately lifted his girlfriend onto the counter. As if by magnets, the two grabbed at each other, kissing like their lives depended on it.
Y/N reached a hand into Calum’s curly hair and pulled, releasing a groan from the man’s mouth. As she attempted to grind against him further, he pulled away and took hold of her by the neck.
“Look at you, pretty girl. One word from me and you’re ready to drop your panties. When did you become such a slut?”
The fingers wrapped around her throat seemed to send the blood rushing faster to her core, a desperate, incoherent mewl escaping her lips.
As she reached down to unbuckle the belt around his waist, he was quick to pull her hands away.
“Not yet. Gotta take care of the birthday girl, right?”
“But I want you, Cal.” She cried.
“Shame.”
He tapped her waist, indicating for her to lift her hips slightly, as he pulled the hem of her dress up to her stomach. Dropping to his knees, he tossed both of her legs over his shoulders, getting closer to the ache between her legs.
Tantalisingly slow, Calum pulled the lacy thong she was wearing down her thighs before stuffing it into his back pocket.
Finally giving her what she wanted, he placed his hot tongue onto her clit, moving in slow circles. The moan that left Y/N’s lips was pornographic, and her hands immediately flew to grasp onto Calum’s hair again.
“I wanna hear you more, love.”
As if on cue, her whines pitched higher and higher, matching the muffled sound of She playing outside.
Increasing in pressure and speed, it didn’t take long for Calum to make Y/N a mess. He knew every curve of her body, every sign of pleasure and, equally, every sign of discomfort. With his knowledge, it never took him long to have her writhing underneath him.
“Calum!” She called, “I’m gonna-“
He stopped.
“Beg.”
Looking down in disbelief, Y/N found him fully content in not touching her until she gave him what he wanted. Huffing loudly, she tried to reach for him again in desperation.
“I’m pretty sure I gave you an instruction, baby.” He scoffed, pulling away even more.
“Fuck, Cal!” She released her stubbornness, “Please let me cum. Please!”
He immediately returned to his previous actions, making her cry out. Her body shuddered and she moaned as Calum finally let her release. She felt dizzy against the mirror, her face stinging from the intensity of her orgasm.
Giving her a check over and a chance to catch her breath, Calum reached down to unbuckle his belt and open his trousers. Stroking his shaft out of his boxers, he looked at the woman again.
“You ready?”
“Just fuck me, Cal.”
Earning a smug chuckle from the man as he pulled out a condom from his pocket and slid it on, she grabbed onto his shoulders as he took her words as gospel, pounding into her with no hesitation. Low grunts and swears left Calum’s lips as he thrusted deep and fast.
Y/N reached down to gently rub her now sensitive clit, releasing a cry as a certain thrust hit just the right spot.
Before she could stop herself, she released a series of incoherent whines, followed by Calum’s name as if in prayer.
“Fuck, daddy!”
Y/N’s regret immediately began to seep into her bones. This was a kink that she had quite happily kept to herself and for 3 years had been worried of Calum’s reaction if she ever brought it up.
This regret dissipated immediately however, as her boyfriend’s rhythm grew sloppier and harder at the name. Soon the room was filled with obscene cries as they both reached their climaxes, collapsing onto each other.
“Well,” Calum said after a breath, “You’ve never called me that before.”
This earned him a weak punch to the shoulder, the woman in his arms giggling lightly.
“Happy birthday, my love.”
#calum hood imagine#calum hood smut#calum hood fluff#calum hood fic#calum hood fanfiction#calum hood x reader#calum hood x y/n#5sos imagine#5sos fanfic#5sos fic#luke hemmings#michael clifford#ashton irwin#Harry Styles
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Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 6
You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.
pairings: dark!Avengers x reader
word length: 2.9K
chapters: 6/?
warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. more detailed content warnings are included at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers, click through the read more, CTRL + F “content warnings”.
notes: slightly shorter than my usual, but i needed to get some stuff fixed up. if ya’ll like my stories please consider donating to my ko-fi— a bitch is poor lmao
Steve swept you up in his arms and turned to deposit you on the landing upstairs, evidently trusting the others to keep you contained for a moment. There was an audible scuffle going on in the den, Bucky would be heard growling from outside—snapping at someone who made the mistake of asking how he’d gotten out there so fast? Tony was growling at Peter who looked seconds away from begging for forgiveness.
“You guys made it safe, I’m happy to see you Nat,” Steve drew the redhaired woman into his arms and sighed in relief, but you couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement; honestly you were having trouble thinking, your brain clouded with the sudden onset of absolute and uncontrolled panic.
The moment the black-haired man had been pulled away by the delta currently stomping back up the stairs, clarity had returned to you like a slap in the face. The golden fog that obscured your vision immediately dissipated and just as quickly you’d been overwhelmed with gut wrenching fear. You didn’t actually remember kicking Steve in the face or making a break for the stairs, but evidently you had and you cursed your hindbrain for running towards the stairs—you should’ve jumped straight out the window; you had a better chance at out running Bucky and whoever else was down there than the two alpha primes and their surrounding packmates.
Before you could even take a step towards the still wide-open window, the black-haired man appeared with a green flash and wrapped around you tightly. “Shhh , pet, no. No windows for you, darling, come now—back to your nest.”
In a moment of truly unusual harmony, your consciousness and hindbrain agreed that the bed was the last place you wanted to be. That wasn’t your bed, the omega hissed tearfully, you’d never made a nest—that wasn’t yours. It could barely be called a nest, even. There hadn’t been any careful consideration regarding the placement of the pillows and blankets, there were no articles of clothing or soft items that had been scavenged or stolen to elicit a feeling of safety or comfort. Worst of all was the way it smelled. Obviously, it didn’t reek, the mix of individual scents wasn’t a bad conglomeration, but your hindbrain whined at the unfamiliarity. This wasn’t your pack’s scent.
The cohesion was jarring, and you groaned. Regardless of the reasoning, your hindbrain was aware that you didn’t get to have a pack and that reminder always hurt. It desperately desired one, but an omega’s primary objective was survival.
After all, you in all of your fully conscious state knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would never have a pack—it wasn’t a matter of wanting or not wanting at this point in your life. You were too old to be regressed into the type of omega that packs wanted, your body too badly reliant on the chemical reactions produced by suppressants after fifteen years to stop taking them. At your age, to be found by a pack meant death.
They would get sick of trying to fix you. You’d die from quitting the suppressants cold turkey. They’d beat you for disobedience until your body gave up. You were nearly thirty and that was ancient for an unbound omega and you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks. Especially an old dog who was bound and determined not to be taught.
“LOKI!” Bucky bellowed as he stomped past Steve and the redhead on the stairs, looking three shades past furious.
The man holding you let go very quickly after that, spinning you away and moving to intercept the furious delta with an equally unpleasant expression. Why couldn’t you have just fucking kept it together upon meeting Bruce—that blood in the water, shark nosed asshole, if you had reigned in your panic there was no way he could’ve scented you through your suppressants. Steve was a different story, but if you’d been quick and calm you probably could’ve made it.
You scanned the room quickly; Bruce was on the bed, checking on Wanda. Bucky and Loki were on the floor fighting, half entangled with Peter and Sam who were doing their best to put their own fight aside to keep the deltas from killing each other. Steve was still halfway down the stairs with the other redhead, talking to her quietly. Tony was—
“Okay, princess, okay,” Tony was wrapped tightly around you from behind, carefully keeping your head braced between his chin and shoulder when you tried to thrash. “This isn’t fair to you, you’re way too fragile for this right now. Put your head here, breathe with me.”
“Please let me go,” you didn’t realize you were crying until you spoke, words coming out in sobs. “I don’t want to die like this, please—”
“You are not going to die, little love,” Thor sounded so sad from where he came to stand in front of you. “I’m not going to bond you, not while you’re so upset. But the results of the tests Bruce ran showed that you are in danger. I cannot allow that and no matter how angry you are with us, we will not let you suffer needlessly.”
“I’m not suffering! I swear, I swear I’m not suffering I’m, I’m happy! I’m happy living my life the way I have been. Please, let me have the choice, I want to be alone, it makes me happy!”
Trying to explain to a literal God why you deserved personal agency was an exhausting business, especially when said God was as condescending as Thor. His indulgent and sad smile was nearly enough to tip you over the edge, but there really wasn’t a point in getting angry—he obviously couldn’t even fathom the concept that what he was doing was wrong. It’s not like you could do anything anyway, you weren’t built for violence but for running away. Every bone in your body vibrated with rage; the injustice was overwhelming.
For fifteen whole years you’d been just fine. You would’ve continued to be just fine, if it weren’t for some super nosed freaks crossing your path. What were the odds of the only people in the world who could scent you from beneath more than a decade’s worth of suppressant use would have a cabin in Quebec that you happened to clean—and run into said people because they happened to show up early; an incredibly unusual situation.
It made you think about Mrs. Hunt. She’d only called to give you a heads up because of the last time, when the homeowner had tried to assault you even while he’d thought that you were a beta . You wondered how long it would take her to realize something was wrong; it was getting late and you’d yet to return her cart despite telling her you’d be there shortly.
The real question would be whether she tried to help or not once she discovered your presentation. She could try to help, try to stick them with omega theft, but they could claim civic duty like Peter had earlier. Besides, that was contingent upon her wanting to help you considering you’d lied to her for so many years.
“You’re so distressed, won’t you let me purr for you?”
“Don’t! Don’t you dare take away—”
“Little love, please—”
“Don’t call me that. You don’t even know me,” you spat, turning to address the room at large. “What kind of fucking superheros are you? Let go of me! Let me go!”
Tony sighed and hefted you up into his arms, one wrapped around your torso while the other hooked under your knees and pinned you carefully across his body. You struggled uselessly against his strong hold; he wasn’t as strong as Thor or Steve, but his bicep was massive next to your head and you could feel his muscles through his clothes as he walked to the bed.
“We can’t, princess,” he murmured into the side of your head as he lowered both of you to the bed, sitting propped against a mass of pillows in the corner. “We’ll never find an unbound omega in your age range again. Plenty of omegas have been offered to us, but they’re all practically children. You’re our last chance—”
“There are plenty! You said plenty! Pick the oldest who wants to be in this fucking shit show and leave me alone!” Everyone tensed when the tone in your voice approached a shriek.
“We’re not taking an omega who’s not even legal to drink—”
“That alpha is like eighteen!” You tried to gesture to Peter, who gaped at you like you’d wounded him, but your arms were still pinned tightly to your sides.
“Peter is twenty-four, actually,” Tony spoke with mirth when Peter jumped onto the bed and crawled until he was pressed against Tony’s side and your back. “And before you ask, Wanda is twenty-six.”
“We’re so lucky to have found you,” the alpha half purred, pressing his nose into the back of your neck. “We’ll make you happy, happier than you are now.”
“It’s gonna be a rough start,” Bruce laid down in the nest a few feet away, welcoming the woman you recognized as the Black Widow into his arms when she slithered into the bed. “We have to balance your hormones, or you will die. You wouldn’t have lasted another year on those suppressants.”
“Death would be a reprieve,” you hissed shortly, freezing when the tone of the room immediately changed.
All attention was suddenly on you, Bruce still making direct eye contact with those sad puppy eyes, “I know that feeling, sweetheart—”
“We will do it another way then,” Thor interrupted, sending Bruce a quieting but loving look. “I said I would not bond you while you are in distress anda I will never break a promise to you. Open your mouth, this will be quick.”
Steve seemed to sigh in response and followed to stand next to the other prime, “I lost my chance. You’ll help her?”
Thor leveled the shorter blond with a careful look before nodding, both showing signs of deference and affection and respect that you did not care for. The rattle of a belt prompted Tony to turn you, setting you carefully between his legs while continuing to hold down your arms with what could appear to be an affectionate bear hug. He even linked his fingers with yours, squeezing gently as you tried to squirm.
“No. No, no no no, that’s disgusting, I won’t—”
“Shhh , I’ll do all the work little love, all you need to do is swallow.”
He was jerking his cock carefully, a flick of his wrist near the head catching your eye. That was a dangerous weapon, the same way you’d come to learn Steve’s was and you had no intention of letting it anywhere near your mouth. You clamped your lips shut, teeth grinding.
“Stubborn,” Peter snorted a laugh and you would’ve snapped at him had his hand not dove between your thighs, fingers gliding through the slick lips of your cunt until he found your clit.
You had to stop yourself from screeching, the head of Thor’s cock directly in front of your face. “Very. Come on now, open up.”
The fingers pinching your nose shut came as a shock, you’d crushed your eyes shut out without realizing it and they snapped open when your face was assaulted. Steve was kneeling on the bed, carefully cutting of your air supply with one hand and stroking your head with the other.
“Come on, precious, you’ve gotta breathe,” he stated softly, smiling when you were forced to pull your lips back to gasp for breath—until he realized your teeth were still locked together. “Really ‘mega?”
The next thing you knew his thumb was shoving against your molars, literally prying your jaw open. There was no way to fight it without hurting yourself, especially once he wedged his thick thumb between your top and bottom teeth. You barely had a second to anticipate the horror before an unnecessarily large cock found it’s way between your lips.
You tried to shriek, your brain finally catching up to the whole series of events, but it was no use. His scent was overwhelming and his dick stretched your lips, your jaw forced completely open. Thor groaned, a triggering noise as he very carefully pressed forward until your mouth was completely full and he was settled against you tongue.
“Suck for me, little love, just a little,” he grunted, just barely working his member between your lips while his huge hand stroked the rest.
It took a surprisingly small amount of time for a massive load of cum to shoot into your mouth. It was thick, and the way that Thor growled immediately made your pupils blow wide like you’d done a line of coke.
Your body went lax immediately and you swallowed on instinct when a hand gently rubbed your throat. The fuzz in your brain was the result of arousal, a brutal orgasm that rocked your body at the sound in combination with your body’s sheer delight at the taste of alpha cum. Somewhere you realized that was disgusting but the haze in your brain made you more focused on the hand between your thighs rather than the indignity.
“Man, this shit ain’t fair,” Sam complained, panting from the exertion of trying to prevent Loki and Bucky from killing each other. “They get to cuddle and we—Hey! Quit that, man!”
“All of you stop fighting,” Steve’s alpha order was brutal and effective.
The sounds of scuffling from behind Thor stopped immediately and there were huffs and snarls and low grumbles but the nest started shifting all around you. You were dropped back to lay against Tony’s chest, having inadvertently swallowed the entirety of the god’s massive load.
“She’s so cute,” Wanda cooed from somewhere to your left.
“We’ll need to go over what we’re doing from here,” Steve sighed once everyone had settled, still watching your dazed expression with a small smile. “But let’s just… nest for a bit, okay?”
The word nest triggered something in your half alpha-cum stoned brained and you looked around the den with a displeased expression. It was a terrible nest; all of the pillows and blankets were in weird heaps and the scent was so wrong. You didn’t really want to nest here, your hindbrain grumbled in agreement, but you’d fix the damn thing. You whined and wriggled until Steve gave Tony the go ahead to stop fully restraining you.
The bed was incredibly soft, which was an upside and crawling across it was like sinking your knees into clouds as you collected the soft heaps of blankets and pillows as you went. You wanted everything off so you could start from scratch, brain muddled by the wrongness of the current layout. You wanted to wash the sheets, the pillow cases, the blankets, all of it. The scent wasn’t right.
“Help her.” It was a quiet request from the Black Widow, who’d also started shifting around to remove the items. “She doesn’t like it like this.”
It was easier to get everything pushed away and in neat piles with the packs’ help, everyone immediately moving to help organize the pillows. You only snapped at the blond beta—Hawkeye, your memory supplied— once for putting a soft blanket on the pile with the not soft blankets. He immediately gave an apologetic burr to which your hindbrain purred back instinctually; evidently a good reaction.
“Why does she like Clint? They haven’t even spoken.”
“She doesn’t like him, she snarled at him!”
“She hasn’t purred at anyone else!”
“Shut up, fuckin’ idiot.”
The noise you made was one of discontent and disdain, the arguing deltas immediately quieting. You didn’t argue with the chirping growl that meant displeased omega, not in a real pack where the goal was to keep omegas pleased and docile. Somewhere your brain reminded you that this wasn’t your pack but the alpha hormones filling your blood and confusing you and yet somehow all you could focus on was whining and pushing at pack members to get them out of the way as your rearranged; clicking your teeth grumpily when you were handed a blanket instead of a pillow or vice versa.
You found yourself being corralled back into the corner, where Natasha and Wanda immediately wrapped themselves around you. Thor had found Bruce and settled beside and settled near your feet where you’d built an intricate nest wall of pillows and blankets. Two of the deltas, Tony and Loki seemed to be glaring at each other—even as Tony laid himself completely on top of the other and they both relaxed into comfortable holds.
It was interesting, watching the pack dynamics as they moved between each other. Clint wrapped around Natasha from behind the same way Carol found her way behind Wanda. Peter had weaseled his way into curling against Loki’s side while tossing a leg over the man’s hip, subsequently laying it over the backs of Tony’s thighs. Sam, Bucky and Steve all found their way into a neat grouping on the bed closest to the stairs, piled as close to the subsequent piles of superheros as possible.
There was some sort of pattern beginning to form in the back of your brain but you were still too confused, too sucked into your own omega hindbrain by the overwhelming introduction of alpha hormone to your system. Instead of following the thought through to the end, you found yourself warm and comfortable and full and falling asleep tucked between the groupings of presentations as if it wasn’t totally, 100% against your will.
content warnings: forced cum eating, chemical manipulation, dead dove: do not eat
#avengers x reader#steve rogers x reader#thor x reader#bucky barnes x reader#tony stark x reader#carol danvers x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#bruce banner x reader#clint barton x reader#peter parker x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#sam wilson x reader#dark!avengers#dark!AU#pocketful of posies chapter 6
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