#but also a hot mess just like everyone else and not nearly as cool as she seems by the traces of her left on the TARDIS

[spoofymcgee]

um??? 2.5k in one sitting who???

[kedreeva]

as someone who is ace and entering college years, how has your dating life been as an ace? what other struggles have there been that you have advice for? i dont know any aces or similar around me older or otherwise. thank you for your time and i hope you have an easy day!

Okay this will get a little long so I'll put it behind a cut

Honestly I'm probably not the best person to ask, since I never really...struggled? Not specifically with asexuality or with anything related to it. I can tell you my experiences, though, and you can decide if there's anything worthwhile to take away from it!

I grew up in a house run by science and math. I knew the prefix a- meant without/not and I knew there was heterosexual and bisexual and homosexual, so when young and, importantly, before really ever interacting with other queer folk, I went Ah ha, these are (prefix)(sexual) and so therefore I am asexual (without sexuality), and that was that. That was literally all the thought I gave to it. People had crushes on other people, I didn't have crushes on people, end of story. If, for some reason, I developed a crush on someone, I would deal with it then.

Maybeeeee midway through HS, a very good friend of mine asked me about it, and I said well, some people like everyone the same, and I dislike everyone the same. And she said well, then it sounds like you like everyone the same, that amount is just zero, so that seems like bisexual? (she didn't know the term asexual was an actual sexuality term either at that point, just the biological term for reproduction and, well, I could reproduce theoretically so couldn't be that) And I said well, alright then, and called myself bisexual for the next 6 or 7 years. THEN I found out asexuality is a sexuality not just a mode of reproduction and I said Ah Ha, I was Correct, and that was that again.

So I guess if I was offering advice it would be... you know you. Don't let someone else tell you about you if you think they're wrong. Make up a word if there isn't one. Use a new word if you find one that already exists and fits.

Also, that it's fine to not worry about it. Literally it's fine to just never think about it if you have better things to do. I think a lot of people get really wrapped up in finding the right label and/or "what happens if-" when like... you're not a canned good. You don't need a label. Worry about what-ifs when they come up, don't borrow anxiety if you can help it.

I dated a few people in HS, like... three people I think, and one Almost. One predatory mistake I thankfully recognized (HEY because I had older folks online I could talk to about it!) and got out of quickly, and one hot mess relationship that was a LOT of fun- my boyfriend, Sark, and then his ex-girlfriend, and then I stepped out so they could get back together, and then they said wait no, and invited me back in, and that went on for most of the end of HS, and nearly into college, when I stepped out again (and peacefully, I am still friends with both of them and I married Sark in the end). There was one guy whom I was always, perpetually, extremely fond of, and we hung out a lot, kissed once, and I think we would have had a lot of fun dating, but ultimately it was a near miss that became a fond memory, because we were never in the right place together. Sometimes life does that, and that's okay, too.

In college, I simply didn't date anyone. I had better things to do. I met my best friend, @idkfandomwhatever, online that year (and still talk to her almost daily, sometimes for hours, despite that we are on opposite sides of the world!!), and in person @mishapeep who was the best roomie I ever had (hi!!!!! i love you!!!). I had great friends, I went on a TON of adventures, worked a cool job where I had awesome coworkers, and just all around had a blast learning stuff and napping in sunbeams or on couches at the food court. A couple of guys made passes, and I turned them down because I just wasn't into it, and we remained friends. There was one coworker at my dispatch job that I got along with like a house on fire, and everyone ELSE thought we should be dating, but neither of us ever brought it up- I can't say why he didn't for sure, but I know I never brought it up because I was 85% sure he didn't swing for the right team to date me, which I ALSO never brought up until he found me on facebook years later to tell me about his husband running for local election somewhere. so. again, don't let anyone else tell you what to do lol there was ALSO another guy that I had NO interest in that spent a lot of time around me, but we mostly sat in my bunk watching Queer as Folk, which I KNOW was his first exposure to queer material. I never talked about queer stuff with him otherwise, but I heard from a mutual friend of ours that he's also happily married to his husband. Sometimes just being yourself, openly and without shame about it, does more than you think, even if it's not doing anything directly for you (but it is, it's good for you too).

SINCE college ended, I dated one guy I met through an online game and that was great in person briefly, but ultimately didn't work out because he couldn't be a nice person, another guy I met through the same online game and that didn't work out at ALL in person, and then I started hanging out with Sark and co again. I was on the phone with him driving somewhere, and I said something to the effect of someday you're gonna find a gf and she's not gonna want you to keep going on adventures with your ex, and we won't be able to talk anymore and I had a real recordscratch moment where I realized absolutely NOT on MY watch, I wanted that boy in my life forever actually, and we've been married now for... this is year 8.

I may have landed in a soft place, but I didn't seek it out. I just lived my life and didn't worry about my sexuality or about who I was or wasn't gonna date. When I DID date, I was up front about what I wanted from any of those relationships and part of the problem with the relationships that didn't work out was sometimes that I did not KNOW what I wanted, yet. But, it was IMPORTANT I think, that I gave the chances I did, because I did learn about myself and what I wanted. That's probably the hardest fucking thing to learn, that relationships sometimes happen not because they're likely to be permanent, but because it may be fun or be a way to learn what you do or don't want. Maybe alongside of that, the lesson that it's okay to go "hm, actually this is Not For Me" and exit peacefully whenever possible. But it's okay to give temporary things a shot and see how it goes, even knowing up front it may be temporary (honestly maybe that even takes some of the stress of it off? if you don't have to worry about it being forever, and you don't have to worry about "what if I never experience other things," and you don't worry so much about messing it up so it feels easier to take chances saying and doing stuff you might otherwise consider too risky to ask for etc).

I'm aware I'm lucky that things went pretty smoothly for my entire life so far, insofar as dating or sexuality is concerned. Part of that was definitely because even the worst of the people I dated weren't really all that bad of people. A lot of it was that I just didn't date if I didn't want to. I didn't care about sex, so I didn't have sex for the first time until a few years after college, and only one guy ever pushed the issue at all (the guy in HS I immediately dropped all contact with).

The thing is... I dated or nearly dated like ten people, flirted with countless others (because it's FUN), and the only one I still have regular contact with (not just occasional friendly hellos) is the one I kept at the end.

But the friends I made in college? I kept a lot of those. I still talk to several of my college friends on a regular basis. I have made other friends since, some of whom I talk to every day, some of whom have become irregular contacts I am still fond of. But those bonds are important and the ones you make with your friends from here out do have the potential to span at least huge chunks of your life, if not the entirety of it. If you only take away one thing from this little novel...take that knowledge.

also this has nothing to do with asexuality but for pete's sake find SOME kind of hobby club to be a part of, or make one if there isn't one, follow your stupidest instincts for adventure on occasion (like playing freeze tag frisbee in a lightning storm on the PAC lawn at 11pm until the campus cops show up to make you go home), and take at least one "fuck it this sounds fun" class. Mine was archery at 7am, the only early-morning class I ever took. Worth it, we were all TERRIBLE but god it was awesome.

Good luck out there!

[blooming-violets]

a spidey rant

I’ve been using my dating apps a bit more recently and I matched with this one guy. We started talking Spidey stuff and he said one of my least favorite Spidey takes ever which is “Andrew Garfield was a good Spider-Man but a bad Peter Parker” and “He was too attractive to play Peter.” It’s just regurgitated sentiments that people on the internet seemed to have cooked up to define the different actors. It’s not a hot take. It’s dumb and overused. 

My issues lie in the fact that Peter Parker was always hot?? Like...he was a massive, awkward nerd but he was a hot massive, awkward nerd. He has the “I’m sexy but I don’t actually know it” thing going on for him. He gains the affections of nearly every super hot female he comes across. MJ is a literal model! Peter has always been attractive enough to catch the eye of the ladies. 

Secondly, he was a fantastic Peter Parker! I’d go so far as to say that Andrew understood the character of Peter better than any other actor who has played him. He’s an awkward, socially embarrassed, nerdy teenager...exactly as young Peter Parker should be. The boy accidentally rips off a woman’s shirt and sticks to a subway ceiling and knocks out everyone in the area with a pole stuck to his hand. He fucks up May’s laundry by attempting to wash his suit and claims that he was washing the American flag. He skateboards but not very well (at least before his powers). He hides his face in half dead flowers and gets in arguments about the police with the police captain/girlfriend’s father over an awkward meet-the-family dinner. He blindly trusts a man who his father worked with because he’s got serious daddy issues and the man praises him a few times. He walks into the street in a daze and swings himself into a building because he sees his pretty girlfriend and his brain goes haywire so he can only think about her and nothing else. Andrew’s Peter is a hot mess of a teenager and idk why some people like to think he was too cool bc we clearly did not watch the same movies. 

My concluding points are that Peter Parker has always been handsome and being handsome does not mean that he can’t also be a giant fucking nerd who can’t navigate a social situation to save his life. He’s a beautiful human mess and AG portrayed that nicely. 

[bawltongue]

(jonathan davis x stealth transmasc reader <on t, post op top surgery>. takes place in early 90s. you unexpectedly meet jd in the bathroom after a show, attempting to comfort him after he gets sick, only for Jon to comfort you in return)

18+ !!!!!!!

warning: substance use (alcohol, marijuana), vomit mentioned, smut, (ftm) anatomy, lots of swearing

Jonathan davis x transmasc reader

You couldn’t believe you had the opportunity to finally see your favorite band in person. Korn had been high up on your radar for a couple years now, and seeing them perform live seemed like a dream. Initially, it felt kind of weird to be there on your own. Usually you would’ve preferred to go to a concert with a friend, but when the chance to buy a ticket arose, all you could think about in the moment was securing your spot. This was special.

The performance had been going on at this point for a good hour and forty five minuets, and you had been animalisticly screaming along the lyrics to each song the entire time. Your voice was pretty blown out, cracking and fading, borderline inaudible; but the music was so loud, nobody could hear you anyways. Either way, it’s not like you’d care if anybody could hear you. Your focus was so heavily fixated on Jonathan, nobody else mattered. His vocals, the way he moved and flipped his hair, the sweat gleaming off of his body. For quite a few moments, you zoned out in your fixation and it felt as if you two were the only ones present.

The crowd of people filed out of the venue steadily as the songs went on. Before the middle of the show, nearly everybody was already a sweaty, drunken, fucked up mess. It was about 3 AM when Korn played their last song, and a good eighty percent of the crowd had left before the end of it. Understandably so; the venue was small, un air conditioned and dark. It reeked of vomit, cigarettes, beer, a tinge of piss, and anything else pungent you’d smell at a metal concert full of wasted 20 somethings. Though you were so immersed in the music, the beauty and finesse of the band members… the odors and obnoxious sounds of the onlookers around you didn’t permeate your high of being so close to the men you’ve looked up to and religiously listened to for so long. Nothing could kill this feeling of happiness and awe… until-

Wait, no fucking way. They just finished playing the last song. They’re walking off stage? No, fuck. It’s over? Already?

The post concert depression hit you almost immediately as it felt like you had simply blinked and the members of Korn were exiting the stage. You played it cool and clapped and shouted just like everyone else did, but damn if tears didn’t well up in your eyes a little bit. You took a deep breath, looked around the venue and realized you were the last one clapping. Not only that, but you were also the last one not making their way out yet. The adrenaline buzzing through your body started to fade as you realized how out of breath, uncomfortable and hot you were.

“Yo, there a bathroom in here?” You got the attention of what looked to be an employee, maybe a bodyguard of some sort.

“Yeah, mens’ is right over there.” He gestured to a puny, dimly lit hallway in the back of the venue.

You nodded your head in thanks and turned as a coy smile spread across your lips. You’ve been passing for a while now, but it never stops feeling good to be validated as a man.

You made your way to the restroom and over to a sink to splash some water on your face. The room temperature liquid felt ridiculously relieving on your sticky skin. The water got all over the front of your shirt, but was indistinguishable from all the sweat you had exuded during the evening.

“URRGHHUA-“ The sound of a guttural heave followed by somebody spitting into a toilet made your eyes bulge open in surprise. You thought you were the only person in the restroom.

“Ugh, fuck me-“ Followed by another harsh gag echoed through the bathroom.

“Hey man, uh, you okay?” You stuttered out somewhat nervously. You weren’t really one to start conversation with strangers, but you were a sympathetic person more than anything. Plus, the exhaustion you felt kind of drowned out any feelings of profound anxiety.

“Oh shit, yeah. Sorry man, haha, that probably sounded really fuckin’ gross.” The disembodied voice responded, slightly slurring his words. “I’m just drunk as hell… you mind uh, helping me out maybe?”

You glanced down under the stall to see long legs awkwardly sprawled out on the dirty floor. Stained black adidas sweats attached to what you assumed was a torso hunched over the toilet. The sleepiness and mild disconnect humming in your brain after such an intense night made it so you couldn’t connect the dots between the familiar voice and pants.

The lock clicked and the door slightly creaked open, but not enough for you to see who was in the stall. Taking a couple steps over, with no second thought, you pulled the door outward to offer a helping hand.

“Oh fuck!-“ Choking on a sharp gasp, Jonathan Davis’ glazed, red tinted eyes met with your own. You felt a rush of heat fill your body as blush spread across your face. Jonathan Davis of Korn was probably the last person you were expecting to see sitting on the floor of a filthy bathroom at 3:20 in the morning. Asking for your help. He raised his eyebrows up at you curiously, outstretching a shaky hand.

“You’re staring. Do I got barf runnin’ down my lip or something?” He smiled goofily, gesturing again for you to take his hand and help him up.

“Sorry, I just- I’m totally surprised to see you! I’ve been a fan for so motherfucking long. I’m kinda like- whoa- I mean, you played such a badass show-” You stuttered, hurriedly bending down to take his arm over your shoulders. You tried to play it cool, but felt pretty embarrassed over your inability to keep your fanboying to a low. His legs shook a bit as you hoisted him up off of the floor and to his feet. He was taller then expected. Taller then you at least.

He chuckled in response to your comment, turning his head toward you. You felt his breath on your face; it fucking reeked. Yet it caused your heartbeat to increase even more then it already had.

“Thank you. You know, I think I noticed you from the stage. I swear I saw you going fuckin’ crazy during Faget.” He smiled warmly and took a wobbly step toward the sink, arm still wrapped over your shoulders as you helped him steady himself.

“Yeah, heh. I just get into it, man. I love your music… Shit I won’t lie, I’m a little bit embarrassed.”

He took his arm from around your shoulders and balanced himself on the sink, turning the faucet on. He cupped his hand to catch water and looked at you through the mirror while hunched over.

“No need to be embarrassed. That’s the kinda shit I live for. I appreciate it a lot.” He took a sip of water from his hand before swishing it around his mouth and spitting it back out. His eyes rolled back slightly as he splashed water on his face, letting it drip back into the sink. You stood behind him anxiously, rocking back and forth not knowing what to say.

“You seem pretty nervous. I got something that might make you feel better, if you wanna head out back with me?” He asked, turning around to face you suddenly, stumbling a bit in the motion. You tensed up, meeting his gaze.

Is he asking me to hang out right now?

“You want me to come out back with you? Like now?”

He chuckled softly and put his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Yeah, like now. If that’s cool with you. I kinda like your presence… I dunno, I’m drunk man. It’d be cool to hang with someone new.” Jon bit his lip and raised his brow as his gaze darted between your lips and back up to your eyes for a moment. It made your face grow hot. “Besides, what else is there to do?”

“Well shit, you make a good point. I’d fuckin’ love to chill with you man.” You felt his grip on your shoulder tighten slightly as you agreed. He grinned widely, still pretty intoxicated as he slung his arm over your shoulders once again. Leading the way out of the restroom, you both made your way out of a door next to the stage area that spat you out on the side of the building. The thick scent of weed and cigarettes smacked you in the face as the door swung open. Honestly smelled pretty damn good compared to the interior of the venue.

“Aw fuck yeah, my man Head never fails me.“ Jon pulled you over to a bench that had a little baggie sitting on it. “Let’s sit, hm?”

You both sat down, Jonathan picking the bag up and emptying the contents in his hand. A perfectly rolled joint and a bright red lighter. Head had obviously left it there for Jon, knowing he’d be coming out after his puketastic bathroom adventure.

“I want you to take the first hit.” He held the joint up to your lips between his fingers.

“You sure? I feel bad smoking your weed, you don’t even know me. I mean I appreciate it of course, but-“ You were interrupted by the click of a lighter.

“I’m sure. I’m gonna know you soon anyways, right?”

You shrugged and inhaled, the familiar taste of smoke filled up your mouth. The second your lips peeled away from the joint, Jon took a huge hit, leaning his head back and blowing it straight up. You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at him as smoke poured out of your mouth. Him throwing his head back like that made risky things run through your mind.

Hit after hit, you lost track of how much the two of you had smoked due to how stoned you became with each exhale. Between sharing the joint, you had conversation about where you’re from, what hobbies you guys have, favorite music, what high school was like; general ‘getting to know each other’ talk. You just couldn’t fully believe you were having casual conversation with Jonathan fucking Davis. Though the higher you got, the easier it was to converse.

“Shit, you know what? You listened to me throw up, saw drool fall outta my mouth, we smoked half of my joint, and I don’t even know your name.” Jon stared at you, his eyes as beet red as your own. The sight made you giggle.

“It’s Y/N. Damn, I’m high as fuck.”

He laughed out loud, his smile causing his eyes to squint. He had such a cute laugh, not what you would’ve expected judging by his stage presence. His reaction arose another giggle inside of you as you shyly covered your mouth with your hand.

“You’re fuckin’ cute, Y/N. Wanna try something weird?”

His words made your heart flutter. An obvious blush spread across your cheeks. You nodded in response, a goofy smile plastered on your face unbeknownst to you.

“Alright, just let me lead. I’m gonna take a hit of this and pass it to you.”

He angled his body toward you and you followed suit, both of you awkwardly facing each other. Half of the joint remained. It felt like you had smoked so much more then that. You were so goddamn high. Jon was too, but wasn’t nearly as transparent about it.

He lit it up and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his mouth and quickly placing the joint down to his side so both of his hands were free. He nodded for consent as he bore into your glazed eyes. As soon as you nodded back, his hands gently steadied the sides of your face as he ever so lightly touched his lips against yours. Both of you opened your mouths simultaneously as he exhaled and you inhaled. Your lips were touching so softly. It made your stomach flip. He pulled away, but kept his hands on your cheeks as he watched your expression closely.

“I like your sideburns.” He rubbed his thumb against your face gently, feeling your facial hair. “Fuck, I’m high as shit too.” He bit his lip as his cheeks began to flush red. You could just barely see the tint of his face change with the streetlights glimmering on you both. You smiled shyly as his compliment dug its way into your brain.

“I like yours too.” You sheepishly responded.

“Here.” Jon lifted your hand up and placed it on his own face so you could feel them. A smirk spread across his lips. “This is the gayest fuckin’ thing I’ve done all week.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?” You felt your breath hitch, worried that he wasn’t feeling the electricity you were.

“It ain’t bad. You’re pretty as hell. I saw you rockin’ out from the stage and I was like; ‘damn, that guy is… attractive’. Then i saw you in the bathroom and I was like, ‘shit here’s my chance’. Is that weird?”

You were so taken aback by his words. It didn’t seem real. Is he fucking serious right now?

“I’m sorry, I’m forreal so fucked up right now. That was probably weird for me to say, wasn’t it? I don’t usually do this stuff with guys. I’m a lot smoother with wome-”

Before he had even finished speaking, you put your other hand on his face, pulling him toward you for a kiss. You were so stoned, so ridden of anxiety and morality, it just seemed like the right thing to do. His lips were dry and tasted like Jack Daniel’s and potent weed. You pulled away and locked eyes.

“You’re really fucking cute, Jon. Like, I’m into you.”

His eyes widened and he smiled uncontrollably, fully displaying his crooked teeth.

“I’m into you too, Y/N. I wanna get to know you, but, uh…” He bit his lip and stared down at his lap tentatively. His face was so red.

“What? You’re acting shy all of a sudden?” You smirked and placed a hand on his thigh, nudging him to finish his sentence.

“I really wanna get to know you, but I also wanna fuck you so bad right now.”

You gulped and froze, not expecting him to feel such strong attraction toward you. You didn’t expect him to have any attraction toward you at all, let alone wanting to bone you on the spot like this. Was it because he was so fucked up? Or would he feel this way regardless? Snapping back into reality, you realized his dark, tired eyes were fixated on you, looking you up and down. Sweat beaded at your forehead in anticipation and hesitation. Not only was your favorite vocalist thirsting after you, but you had never been with anybody who hadn’t known you were trans before getting intimate. Actually, you hadn’t been with many people at all. You had no idea how to initiate the conversation, so the best you squeaked out was;

“Can we start slow?”

A warm smile eased onto Jons’ face. He scooped your legs up from the underside of your knees and scooted closer, placing your legs on top of his lap.

“I’m not gonna fuck you here on this bench. Well, I mean, unless you’re into that.” He gave you no time to respond as his lips crashed into yours, rougher then your first kiss, but gentle enough. He placed one hand behind your neck and the other on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze that caused your lips to part for a moment. His thumb affectionately graced the back of your neck as you tasted each others lips. Jon pulled back for a moment.

“You doing okay?” He asked, still rubbing his thumb against your hairline.

“Yeah. I’m really good. What about you?”

“I’m fuckin’ great. You have really soft lips.” He licked his own lips for a second before biting them and scanning your figure again. “Damn, you’re really fuckin’ handsome. It feels right to be here with you right now.” He slurred out before leaning in for another kiss.

This one was a bit sloppier. He began biting your bottom lip and licking your teeth until you finally granted his tongue entrance to your mouth. When you did he let out a soft, sweet moan that made your mouth vibrate. The sound of his enjoyment mixed with the feeling of his tongue in your mouth caused wetness to pool in your boxers. His hand moved lower on your waist and pulled you closer until you were essentially sat on his lap. You could feel how hard he was through his sweats and couldn’t believe it. Knowing that you had him so turned on just drove you even crazier.

A string of spit connected your swollen lips as the both of you pulled away momentarily for air.

“You’re so hard. Did I do this to you?” You asked teasingly.

“Fuck yeah you did. I’m about to fuckin’ lose my shit, Y/N. You’re so hot.” He leaned into the nook of your neck and began leaving soft kisses and bites on your skin. Both his hands now holding your waist.

“Can I mark you up, baby boy?”

The question sent chills down your spine.

“As much as you want to.”

The green light you gave had him impatiently and passionately sucking and licking on your neck. Your thighs squeezed together in an attempt to keep your tdick under control. Moans and curses escaped your mouth as his lips, teeth and tongue marked and grazed your skin; which only encouraged him further. His hands began to snake up the sides of your shirt. You froze for a moment, remembering you hadn’t told him you’re trans yet.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Jon pulled away worriedly and raised his eyebrows, trying to read your expression.

“Not at all. You’re doing such a good job. I just… I don’t- I have to tell you something before we get too far and I’m scared It’s gonna weird you out or something.” Tears welled up in your eyes slightly as anxiety begin to fill up your chest.

“Oh shit. You have AIDS or something?”

“No, motherfucker.” You fought back a snicker. “I don’t have any STD’s.”

Jon sighed in relief, grabbing your hands and holding them tight.

“I promise I’m not gonna judge you. I already like you.”

You took a deep breath and thought about how you could phrase this. The concoction of exhaustion and intoxication flooding through you caused you to simply lift your shirt to showcase your top surgery scars to him. Sometimes saying nothing speaks the loudest.

His eyes widen and fixate on your chest and torso as he puts his hands back on either side of your bare waist.

“I get it.” He said, tapping his fingertips along your skin. “Your scars look great… and shit, you’re almost as hairy as me, huh?” He snickered out, trying to ease the tension to let you know he really didn’t mind at all.

“It’s cool.” He adjusted your legs so you were straddling his lap now, rather then sitting with your legs pressed together. “I’m glad you trust me with your body. It’s fuckin’ sexy.”

You dropped your shirt back down as your hands covered your face. You could feel his throbbing member against your hole now that he readjusted your position on his lap.

“You’re not just saying that to get your dick wet?” You mumble through your fingers.

“What? Naw, I think you’re beautiful… handsome- I think you’re handsome. I said I wanted to fuck you and get to know you. You bein’ trans don’t change none of that. I just got to know you a lil more, that’s all.” He moved your hands down from your face and kissed your nose lightly, making you smile. His reassurance felt very genuine.

“Thank you, Jon. You have no idea how much that means to me… Fuck, I feel so much better. Come kiss me again.” You placed your hands on the back of his head, intertwining his dreads with your fingers before he smushed his face into yours with impatience. His tongue slithered past your teeth and onto yours. It was hard to ignore the subtly desperate humping of his hips up into you as you sat straddling him. The friction, or lack thereof, was driving you both crazy. With his dreads looped through your fingers, you gave a light tug that caused a moan to emit from his mouth into yours.

“Shit, I want you so bad.” He whispered, boring into your eyes with a look that can only be described as desire and seriousness. His desperation made you feel powerful. You never thought you’d be so close to Jon, never thought his dark, lustful eyes would be piercing yours. His arms would be around your waist and tongue in your mouth. The surge of tension and emotions between you had you both forgetting your location; a dirty bench on the outside of a crummy club.

“As bad as I want you too, I’m not about to let us get arrested for public indecency.” You chuckled, cupping his cheek with your hand and giving him a light kiss on the lips. He frowned childishly, eyebrows furrowing. He leaned down and rested his head in the nook of your neck, his lips barely touching your skin.

“If we went somewhere more private, would you let me make you feel good?” He said before kissing your neck lightly.

You placed your hands on the back of his head, caressing his matted, sweaty hair for a moment before mumbling out an “mhm”. Planting another quick kiss on your forehead, he stood up, grabbing the joint and lighter with one hand and outstretching the other for you to take. As he lead you back through the door of the now empty club, he held the joint in his mouth, lighting it and taking long hits, exhaling the smoke through his nose. He grabbed it with two fingers and placed it between your lips for you to take a couple hits as well. A trail of smoke lingered behind you both as he pushed the bathroom door open, locking it behind you.

“I’m so fucking high again, haha-”

He wasted no time in pressing you up against the cool, tiled wall, biting at your lips and moving his hands up and down the sides of your torso. He had his body pressed into yours, keeping you comfortably squished yet unable to move much. You could feel his boner pushing against your stomach through your clothes. He pulled away from your breathless mouth as he hurriedly pulled his tank top over his head, throwing it onto the floor. Jon was so fucking hairy. You were awestruck by his body. His chest hair, happy trail, hips poking out above his pants. You were so hypnotized you hadn’t even realized him tugging at the hem of your shirt, gesturing to get it off of you.

“I wanna see that body of yours again… please?” His bloodshot puppy dog eyes darted between your face and the small amount of your belly visible below your shirt that he was lifting. You bit your lip nervously, but raised your arms to allow him to fully remove it. Throwing your shirt off to the side like a piece of trash, his gaze hungrily shifted around your torso and chest. Large, gentle hands caressing your sides, tracing your scars.

“Goddamn, you’re a fuckin’ treat, huh pretty boy?” He leaned down and started suckling on your neck, working his way down to your collarbone. You gasped as his hand suddenly snuck it’s way past your waistband and in between your thighs, fingers rubbing between your slick entrance and against your swollen tdick.

“Shit, this things big… You’re ready for me aren’t you, Y/N?” He smirked, his forehead pressed against your chest as he stared intensely at his hand in your pants. A finger slipped inside of you, making you emit a raspy moan. The feeling of your wetness seeping around his hand caused him to whimper, beyond turned on and anticipating the feeling of finally being inside of you. Your hips humping against his hand as he inserts another finger, biting your shoulder and leaving a hardy indentation.

“Your fingers feel so fucking good, oh my god, fuck-“ your hands moved up and down his back sporadically; you ached for this kind of touch for what felt like forever.

“That’s my good boy… Are you ready for me to fuck you?” He muttered into your neck, clamping down with his teeth leaving another deep bite mark. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, enjoying the mixture of pleasure and mild pain. You would’ve yanked his pants down yourself in an instant if you weren’t pinned up against the wall at his discretion.

“Y-yeah, I’m ready. Fuck…”

Almost instantaneously, he pulled his pants down, letting them fall to his ankles. His cock had been dripping with precum for what seemed like the entire time, it was dribbling off of his head. The sight made your eyes pop. Eagerly, he pulled the waistband of your pants down as well, letting them fall to your feet. He reached a hand down and began jerking himself off with one hand and swirling his fingers around your tdick with the other while maintaining eye contact with you.

“I’m gonna fuck your pretty little cunt now, okay?” He shifted his hips close enough so his throbbing cock was placed directly against your entrance. You nodded your head, breathless and nervous. Pushing into you slowly, you both let out deep groans as your grips on each others bodies tightened. He fully pressed into you, borderline crushing you against the wall. Your arms wrapped around his head as he quickened his pace, unable to hold back the desire he’s been downplaying all evening.

“Fuck yes. You’re so fucking tight. You feel so fucking good around me. What a good boy, so wet for me.” Praise fell from his lips like a monologue as he pumped faster and faster. Leaving you out of breath, moaning and cursing uncontrollably. Complete putty in his hands. His lips encompassed yours as he moaned and whimpered into your mouth. The sounds of both of your deep, raspy noises of pleasure and his hips slapping wetly and lewdly against yours echoed throughout the bathroom. He pinned your hands above your head with one arm and used the other to grope your ass, pulling you into him as he submerged his cock inside of you.

“Jon, fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Me too. Be my good boy and let’s cum together.” He whimpered out, trying to maintain a dominant tone but not being able to hold back his desperation. His hips bucked uncontrollably and with one final harsh pump, he completely buried himself inside of you. You could feel his balls pulsating against your lips as he emptied them inside of your hole. You tightened around him, gasping and moaning. Your bodies twitched as you both simultaneously came for each other. Sweat pouring off your bodies and cum already trickling down your hairy, weak thighs before he even pulled out.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy, Y/N.” Jon breathlessly mumbled as he stayed twitching inside of you. Attempting to catch his breath and letting go of your wrists, he sprinkled soft kisses all over your jawline, chin and cheeks.

“No, you are. Holy shit, I’ve never cum that hard with anyone before.” You whispered out, legs shaking, barely able to stand if he wasn’t still pressing you against the wall.

“Neither have I. Goddamn.” He slowly slipped out of you while holding your hips, biting his lip and forcing back whimpers in his throat as he did. Your hips bucked and twitched. His cum seeped out, dripping onto your boxers below you. He kissed your forehead with a loud smack sound and bent down to pull up your pants for you.

“Cute. Your legs are shaking pretty hard. Need me to carry you out of here or somethin’?” He rose up with a satisfied look on his face, snapping your waistband around your hips.

“Hell no. I’m a big boy.” You snickered and crossed your arms as Jon pulled his own pants up, rising up less then an inch from your face. You kissed his nose sweetly and watched his face turn a deeper pink.

“Whatever you say. Let me get you breakfast, hm? It’s probably like, fuckin’ 7 AM now.” He reached down to grasp your hand and intertwine your fingers with his. “Then we can go back to my hotel room and clean up.”

He stared hopefully and tiredly at you, lightly squeezing your hand.

“Deal. We’re like, so fucking gross right now.”

He laughed and nodded his head, swinging your arms back and forth. You made your way out of the club and realized the sun had rose, which only made you feel more exhausted. His thumb caressed yours as you both began your trot to the motel a few blocks down the road.

“I like you a lot, Y/N.” He quietly muttered, looking down at your feet as you walked next to each other.

“You goddamn better considering your cum is in my boxers right now.” You playfully shot back, earning a hardy laugh from him.

“I’m playin’. I like you a lot too.”

You stopped in your tracks for a moment to embrace each other. A gentle but passionate kiss solidified your mutual feelings as you continued on your way, sauntering down the sidewalk.

[hinatastinygiant]

18 | Libra

Pairing: Kita x Fem!Reader

What's Meant to Be Masterlist

On the morning of the wedding, you wake up with a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. But you gather yourself together and get ready for the day. You begin by getting dressed, doing your hair and makeup, and walking out the house to see Mel.

"Y/N!" Mel waves as you approach the coffee shop.

"Hey, Mel," you greet, giving her a quick hug.

"You look amazing," she compliments.

"Thank you," you say, smiling softly.

"So, I have the guest book here," she says, holding up a beautiful hardcover notebook.

"Mel, it's gorgeous," you gasp, taking the notebook and admiring the cover. She then shows you a large bottle. "What's this?"

"Well, people will write their messages from the guest book and place them in the bottle," she explains. "This way, they'll be preserved and it'll make a cool souvenir for the couple."

"I love it," you nod, taking the bottle from her. "Thank you so much, Mel. This is amazing."

"No problem," she says, waving her hand dismissively.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, don't worry about it," she shakes her head.

"Mel," you frown.

"Seriously," she insists. "I'm just glad to help."

"Osamu and his fiance are going planning to pay. Please let me give you the money for doing all of the work."

"No, really," she says. "I didn't do it for the money. I did it for you."

"Okay, well, at least let me pay for lunch one day," you offer.

"Alright, deal. I'd like that," she agrees. "Now, you better get going, you have a wedding to get to."

"Right," you nod.

"Have fun!"

With that, the two of you part ways, and you make your way back to your apartment to finish getting ready. Just as you get in the door, you receive a text from Kita, saying that he'll pick you up at noon.

"Shit," you hiss, realizing that you're running behind.

You rush to your room and finish getting ready, before running to look out the door at five past twelve. There, you see his car pull up and park in your driveway. Your heart pounds as you watch him step out, wearing a grey suit and carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Oh my god," you mumble, biting your lip. "He's so hot."

When the doorbell rings, you dust yourself off and rush to answer the door.

KITA'S P.O.V.

"Wow," I gasp as she opens the door. She is dressed in a beautiful navy blue dress, and it clings to her curves perfectly. She looks so beautiful and I nearly forget about everything else.

"Hi," she smiles nervously.

"Hey," I nod, returning the smile.

"Here, these are for you," I say, holding out the flowers. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," she hums, accepting the flowers. "And thank you for the bouquet. Come in."

I follow her inside, and she leads me to the kitchen, where she places the flowers in a vase.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she offers.

"Water would be great, thanks," I reply, watching her walk to the fridge and pull out a bottle of water.

Beside the flowers on the kitchen table, I notice a hardcover notebook and a large bottle.

"What's this?" I ask, curious.

"Oh, that's the guestbook," she says, handing me the bottle of water. "Mel made it for the wedding."

"She did? That's really nice of her."

"Yeah, she's a really sweet girl. And, uh, I'm supposed to be in charge of this," she tells me, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "So I hope everyone likes it because I know how hard she worked on it."

"I'm sure it'll be great," I assure her, placing a hand on her arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hopefully," she sighs.

"So, are you ready to go?" I then ask her.

"Yes! I just need to use the bathroom and then I'll be ready to go," she smiles.

"Take your time," I tell her.

With that, she leaves the room, and I am left alone with my thoughts.

She looks so beautiful, I think to myself. But I'm also nervous about how this wedding will go. I don't want to mess this up.

"Alright, I'm ready," she announces, appearing in the kitchen once more.

"Great," I nod, standing up. "Let's go."

"Oh, wait, I just need to grab something," she says, rushing back to her bedroom.

"Hurry up, or we're going to be late," I call after her.

"I know," she says, returning with her purse. "I'm ready now."

With a smile, I take her hand and lead her to the car.

"I'm really happy you said yes to going with me," I say as we step outside. "I know it was last minute, but I really appreciate the company."

"Well, I'm glad you asked me," she says, the smile still on her lips.

As we get in the car and drive off, I can't help but feel a sense of excitement. This whole time I've been nervous about asking her out, but now that she's here, I can't imagine being anywhere else.

"This is going to be a good day," I tell her, reaching over and taking her hand in mine.

"I think so too," she smiles.

"Oh, and um, thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful," she hums.

"I'm glad you like them," I nod.

"I can't believe you remembered that Calla Lilies are my favorite," she grins to herself.

"Of course I remembered," I say, turning to her. "How could I forget? You told me that the first time-"

"We met," she finishes.

"Yeah," I nod, squeezing her hand gently. "And the day I asked you to come with me to this wedding, I knew I had to get them."

"I'm glad you did," she smiles, glancing out the window.

"Me too," I smile.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The second we get to the wedding venue, Atsumu comes sprinting out of nowhere and halts on his heels right in front of us.

"Where the hell have you been, Shinsuke?! We need you in the groom's suite, stat!"

"Already?" Y/N questions.

"I'm coming," I tell Atsumu. "But we have to drop off the guestbook. Where do you want us to put it?"

Atsumu then finally notices Y/N on my right and his eyes nearly bug out of his head.

"Hey, Y/N," he grins, his eyes scanning her body.

"Hi," she waves.

"I'd say you look beautiful, but Kita would probably kill me," he chuckles.

"I'm already thinking about it," I mutter, my eyes narrowing.

"Right, well, the guestbook can be left at the front," he tells us, turning around.

"We're coming," I nod, and we begin to follow him inside.

Once the guestbook and the bottle are left on the table that Atsumu points to, I turn to Y/N. "I'm really sorry for ditching you like this. I promise I'll find you as soon as I can, okay?"

"Yeah, of course," she nods. "I'll just be hanging out until the ceremony starts."

"Alright," I nod, taking her hand in mine and bringing it to my lips. "See you later."

She nods and squeezes my hand. "See you."

Less than a second later, I'm pulled away by Atsumu. "Hey, don't get distracted with the bride or I'll tell my brother," he warns, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and guiding me to the groom's suite.

"W-What?! I wasn't going to! Did you not just see Y/N?!" I splutter, looking at him, baffled.

"Just kidding," he laughs. "But seriously, I'm totally jealous that she's not here for me."

"Of course, she's not," I roll my eyes. "She's here for Osamu and his fiance."

"Yeah, yeah," he grins, pulling open the door. "More like here for you."

I'm about to argue, but I'm met with Osamu's eyes and I'm quickly distracted.

"Shinsuke, thank god," he sighs, relief evident in his voice. "Can you help me with my tie? These idiots don't know how to do anything properly."

"Yeah, of course," I nod, moving closer to him.

"Thank you."

What's Meant to Be Masterlist

Taglist: @thisbicc

[charliethomascoxuniverse]

Ugh THIS. 

She is seriously playing a dangerous game with Michael’s life. 😬 

She’s wagering that the prospect of 90 mil will keep the Batuk family at bay for four months, time that she and the Kinsellas can use to figure something else out. Because she’s surely not dumb enough to think that the Batuk family isn’t capable of taking the money and then still being out for Michael’s head anyway. 

They have a massive advantage on the Kinsellas in terms of power and money already, and bleeding themselves of 90 mil will only further weaken the Kinsellas’s power base over time. Yep, the whole situation’s one big nail-biter - we can only wait and see what will happen.😬

(Things between Amanda and Eric are already tip-of-the-iceberg tense, and Bren’s not going to be bloody well pleased about anything that’s been happening since Jamie’s death. Heck, even before that. If Frank had been able to keep Eric in check in the first place, he wouldn’t have gone out and started this whole mess.

If there’s to be a fissure in the family, Michael and Jimmy’s loyalty will obviously be to Amanda. She’s already got Frank and Eric on her bad side, and no doubt Bren, too. I can’t imagine Birdy will be well pleased about her having usurped the power in the family either, but she still loves Michael and Jimmy so she’ll be the one in middle of all this. 

Aaaahh, waiting two months to see all this dysfunctional family drama unfold is going to be so hard!!! T_T I’ve totally been spoiled by Nexflix just dropping whole seasons at once. lol)

(Also, this isn’t even the first time Amanda’s played fast and loose with the Kinsellas’s affairs. I don’t think Michael was wrong to be angry with her that time in the car after he was nearly shot when he went to meet Anna at the cafe. Yeah, I get that she was afraid for Anthony’s life, but the moment she suspected they had a mole she should have told someone. 

A whole 24 hours of leaving everyone else out of the loop just left them all open to greater danger, by her own choice, because (as usual) she presumed she knew better than anyone else. (And let’s be honest, she usually does. LOL) But it’s the principle of the thing. Not telling the hot-heads in the family that she suspected Kem was a mole was a perfectly reasonable thing to do - after all, as she said, Kem wasn’t worth anyone in the family going to prison for. But why didn’t she at least tell Michael???

Michael’s the least hot-headed of any of the men in the family - even when he was furious about Anna’s attempted abduction, when Jimmy demanded know why he wasn’t doing anything about it, and wasn’t he angry? Michael answered that of course he was, but he was waiting until he wasn’t angry anymore before deciding what to do. So yeah, cooler heads would’ve prevailed had Amanda told Michael what was going on. She ought to have put her trust in him. 

As I said, it’s the principle of the thing. The Kinsellas are at their strongest when they’re united. One person taking it upon themselves to unilaterally make decisions that affect the whole (when they’re not even in the position of leadership to be making those decisions in the first place) only weakens them in the long run by sowing discord...which is what we’re already seeing the beginning of in S2. 

That said, the women are pretty much the brains in the Kinsella family. lol Frank has shown himself to be too weak to run the show, and Bren is much like Eamon Cunningham in that he rules by ruthlessness first and foremost. Jimmy’s a follower by nature, not a leader. Michael is pretty self-possessed and he commands respect across the board, both within and without the family, but we all know he doesn’t want the job. And Eric is...Eric. xd They need someone with a cool head for business and a deft hand at manipulation, who isn’t afraid of exercising measured ruthlessness when called for. 

That’s definitely Amanda. Or Birdy. Between Frank, Bren, and Birdy, I’d definitely vote for Birdy. And she commands more respect and affection in the family as a whole. She could bring unity to them far more easily than Amanda ever could. Not to mention she has a far defter hand at emotional manipulation as well. lol The person who’s really getting their position most usurped by Amanda in the family is Birdy, I swear. I hate feeling like I have to choose between two queens. lol Just get it together and unify your strengths please, ladies. <3 )

So when are we going to talk about the fact that amanda went behind everyone's back to meet the daughter of the Batuk family and not only did she offer an extra 20 mil - even though they would have a lot of trouble paying 70 mil already - but she later lied and said that they agreed to take the bounty off of Michael's head when in fact no such thing happened??

Batuk literally emphasized this with several statements!! She said "he will not be part of any deal" and that her father would rather have her "go home empty handed" than spare Michael. When amanda tries to play the tough card saying that Michael is good at getting away, she even shrugs it off by saying "we only need to be successful once"

Amanda even threatens that if they kill Michael, they will not pay off anything (surely to result in another gang war) and yet... the Batuk family NEVER AGREED to actually sparing Michael and then she went and basically told just that to everyone??

So Birdy's now off picking up Michael like all's fine and dandy???

Also, I'm sorry, but Birdy KNEW Eamon and yet believes that Eamon lied about not wanting a specific Kinsella and as much as an idiot Eric is, at least he sees through her bullshit. All I can honestly hope for is Bren getting out of prison and tearing this whole family a new one...

[sukirichi]

— just the two of us

request: I almost read all of your jujutsu kaisen writings and I love it. Your writing is really good! I do not know if a request about a fics🥞 about satoru gojo who is really in love and not very possessive with an oblivious reader. It will be fun to see Satoru try to flirt with her and she doesn't get it🤣

pairings: gojo x oblivious! reader

notes: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTEEE I absolutely loved every second of writing it! thank you for the request and I hope you like this! 🥞 breakfast has been served!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none, other than this is unedited and written humorously rather than seriously~

masterlist !

Gojo doesn’t know whether he’s lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you’ve got no idea he’s so in love with you.

It’s a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to school with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to “get that vitamin D.”

Satoru snickers at your statement, because you’d totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you’d notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if maybe you’d inherited the Six Eyes instead of him, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?

He doesn’t even know where it began. A year ago, Yaga introduced you as the newest staff member. You’d been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried if maybe the kids wouldn’t love. They did, of course, how could they not. Not only were you extremely fun to be with, you’re also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of the students got injured over a mission.

Shoko reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that they’re still only kids and should be out having fun.

Yeah, maybe that’s where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Satoru’s heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave for work, mock-saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don’t get a single thing.

“That café was really good,” you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Satoru sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. “We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the kids with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!”

Satoru masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time Megumi called you mom and dad by accident, to which you happily responded with before tackling the boy in hugs, while the strongest jujutsu sorcerer only flushed in embarrassment.

Him being him though, Satoru played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. “Huh, a dad?” he smirks, “The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N.”

The raven haired first year student immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. “Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don’t see you marrying my mom or anything,” Just as Megumi nearly howls in laughter – another evidence that you’re really something else to get the usually stoic boy to lose his composure like that – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. “Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays.”

Hopeless, Satoru wants to say, you’re absolutely, utterly hopeless.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn’t give up. “How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?”

Say yes, say yes – please say yes.

Really though, he’s waiting for that ‘no’ already. Satoru knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in the countryside, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn’t so easy to find in the city.

But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. “Really? You’d like to go to the movies with me?”

“Of course I would,” Satoru tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he’s completely taken aback. He’s the Gojo Satoru for heaven’s sake, he shouldn’t be this affected by anyone’s presence. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it’s actually happening – his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. “I thought there was a fly,” he lied with a chuckle, “But yeah, Saturday. I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Satoru wouldn’t stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Yuuji had face planted into the ground and Megumi sprained his ankle from training, he wasn’t able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He’s floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.

“Well, you look creepy,” Shoko commented in the faculty room the moment you excused yourself, “Did you land a date with her or something?”

“That I did,” he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.

“I can only hope Y/N makes it out alive,” Nanami announces from behind the newspaper he’s reading, legs crossed over another before he peeks above the paper, narrowed eyes dead set on the blindfolded man. “Don’t be too wild with her, Satoru. She’s a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I humbly suggest you don’t mess with her feelings.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!”

“Who’s cute?”

Shoko nearly spits out her coffee the moment you enter, glancing around the room and sitting down next to a shock-still Satoru. Nanami only huffs in his seat with a shake of his head. It doesn’t take long before Satoru regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he’s turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.

You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you’re so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Satoru chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.

“You’re cute.”

Shoko shudders at the same time Nanami just gives up on everything, folding his paper and lying that he’s got someplace to go with Ichiji. Satoru patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.

You’re silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Satoru ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?

Even Shoko ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Satoru watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of a wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. “Thank you!” you giggle at his compliment, “You and Shoko are very cute too! And the kids too, especially Toge! Not that I’m saying he’s my favourite—”

“He’s definitely your favourite student,” snorts Shoko who is ignoring the way Satoru turns completely gray beside you.

It turns out you still haven’t figured it out after all.

“The kids this – the kids that,” the tall, lanky man whines, his head falling back on the back of the leather couch. He looks so utterly defeated you can’t help but lean over him to check if he’s okay, but Satoru pouts and hides his face under his uniform instead. “Why can it never be just the two of us?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

This time, you’ve kneeled on the couch to hover him. You even pluck one side of his blindfold off to see how he’s doing, and suddenly thankful you can’t see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now. 

“Nothing,” he assures, his smile hidden behind his shirt. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn’t the right time, and Satoru just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. “It’s nothing.”

It’s absolutely not nothing.

Saturday couldn’t come faster.

Satoru finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.

He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It’s another reason why he can’t comprehend why you don’t like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He’s pretty funny too – and his strength and power is already a no-brainer. Satoru can’t wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn’t like him; it’s basically a life or death mission at this point.

With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Satoru sashays out his apartment. Even though it’s already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.

This time around, he’s more than confident. He’s going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, “Wow,” is the first thing he says, pulling his blindfold down just to look at you.

Satoru feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to the countryside and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you’re an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you’re real.

“Wow,” he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. “You look very handsome yourself.”

Satoru’s been called handsome a million times before that it’s gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits different. If he was excited before, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.

He knows it’s not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you’re with, and that he was the one you’re going to the movies with.

All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he’s so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.

His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you’re sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don’t pull away from his thigh flush against yours.

In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.

He doesn’t even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it’s just the two of you.

Satoru reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he’s on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you’re so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It’s clear you don’t like him, after all.

You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.

Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Satoru knows he’s messed up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. “I should’ve gotten my own bowl instead.”

Satoru stares at you through his blindfold. You’re close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he’s so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. “Cold,” he shows you his hand, “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” you nod and slip your fingers through his. Satoru nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Satoru feels like he’s floating in his own Infinite Void right now. “Feel warmer now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “Extremely.”

Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don’t mind touching him at all, Satoru can’t help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It’s just the two of you, and you’re the only one he ever cares about this much that he’d pretty much let you do anything at this point.

“You know,” Satoru begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It’s now or never. “Shoko and Nanami are annoyed that I talk about you all the time.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. “Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?”

“No,” he nearly groans in frustration, “You’re really pretty and cool. You’re amazing during missions, too, when you fight, it’s like I’m witnessing a warrior princess. So cool.”

This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Satoru with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. “Oh, no,” he closes his eyes even behind his blindfold, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t think I’ll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words.”

“Satoru!” you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you’ve both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character’s friend’s death. “What are you going on about?”

He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you’d be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it’s you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn’t something he can’t fix. He’ll get you on the train one way or another.

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror,” Satoru whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn’t even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around you has descended into grief and loneliness. “I also called Nanami on first date tips.”

“Nanami?” you echo with a gasp, “Why Nanami?”

“Because he’s married, that’s why. Mans know some tips for sure.”

“Wait, so,” you chuckle nervously, and Satoru waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He’s patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. “This is a date? Our first date?”

“Only if you want to be,” Satoru shrugs, grimacing afterwards at how sappy he sounds. “Well, I actually consider this our first date and I’ve been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn’t dress myself up today only to come back home crying.”

Satoru’s heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It’s crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn’t complain though; he never will.

“I’m glad,” you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.

Satoru stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He’s feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he’s fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he’s feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?

“You always make me feel so happy when you’re around that I still can’t believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn’t get my hints.”

Satoru groans, “What the hell? How long have you liked me?”

“I guess when you started bringing flowers to Megumi randomly just to piss him off.”

Satoru wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you’ve started working with him, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he’s been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?

“God, Y/N,” he mutters to himself, “You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?”

That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you’re oblivious of everything. Satoru is right; he still can’t decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.

It doesn’t take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life, but Satoru doesn’t rush anything.

With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it’s just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.

[jarofstyles]

Exobition. Like. Harry showing you off to friends like. How you can squirt or something. Like maybe not so much orgy, but yk????

You guys 😭😭😭 okay.

Warnings: public?sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, oral, degrading, etc 🤓

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

———

“Y’see how she takes it?”

His ringed fingers were lazily threaded through Y/N’s hair. In the other hand was a cool drink, sweaty from the condensation. It felt fucking good. Having a wet, hot mouth wrapped around his cock while he was relaxing and having a drink with some friends.

They belonged to a Club. A club that allowed them to explore certain things and kinks and also see them being practiced. A sex club was a bit of a general term, though it was more than that. Harry and Y/N were a bit more new to the scene but in the few months they’d been frequenting, they’d found that this was something that got them both off.

On her knees in front of him, she bobbed her head lazily. Taking him deeper in her throat, enjoying the weight of his thick cock on her tongue, she hummed happily at the mention of her. Between her thighs she was hot and soaked, a mess of arousal dripping down and ruining her panties.

“Lucky bloke y’are.” She heard from somewhere next to them. Some of Harry’s friends he had made there were in the chairs around them, chatting about. Some had partners and others didn’t, but Harry and Y/N weren’t shy and no one would ever complain about that.

“Know that I am. She’s got such a sweet little mouth. Swallows me perfectly every time.” He praised, gently pulling her off his cock and letting it fall out of her mouth, a little ‘pop’ sound as she was pulled off. Immediately she let out a sad whine, eyes glazed over and looking at Harry in betrayal.

“Oi… s’alright, puppy. You’ll get it back. S’what you want, yeah?” He stroked her hair back and chuckled breathily at the eager nod. “See?” He looked over to his friends with pride. “She’s proper gagging for it. Swear… come home some days and she’s already on her knees n’begging me to fill up her pretty mouth.” He placed his drink down and tapped his cock against the flat of her tongue, smirking at the eager expression on her face.

“How’d you get her trained like that?” Another voice popped in.

“Mm… well, hate to say it mate… s’all natural. She’s just naturally a little cockslut.” He cooed, pushing her back down on to his cock. The whine of relief and his sigh of pleasure were given at the same time, Harry relieved to be back inside of her silky mouth. “She was like this since the beginning. First night she got her mouth on my prick, nearly came from it.”

There was something so hot about being spoken about like she wasn’t there, her cunt drippy and slick with proof of how much she loved it. Her sucking increased in power, bobbing her head down a bit further and taking more. Harry’s hand in her hair tightened and he lifted his hips ever so slightly with a soft little groan.

“Christ. See… s’the luck of the draw. She fuckin’ loves to be sucking on me. As soon as I pull her up, she’ll be sticky between both thighs. exactly what I was looking for, too. She does exactly how I like it.” He decided to wrap her hair around his fist instead of holding it out of the way, bringing his drink to his lips and letting the cool liquid burn his throat while he stuffed himself down hers.

She worked her mouth eagerly, up and down. His grip on her was firm now but he encouraged it, thrusting his hips up into her mouth, feeling the eyes on them and burning into his belly. It was so hot. Knowing all these people were watching, most likely jealous or aroused over the fact that he had such a precious, slutty girl.

“S’it, yeah… go on, puppy. Get sloppy with it. Been very well behaved. But Daddy wants to cum now. Don’t Y’want my cum down your throat, angel?” He cooed down at her, watching her eyes darken further. Drooling around his cock and letting him use her throat as his own personal toy. She moaned needy against his cock, pressing her head down further and taking his length into her throat. Nuzzling her nose against the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock, she was satisfied hearing the growl come from his throat.

“Shit… dirty little bitch. Good girl.” He panted, thrusting up into her mouth. She stilled, letting him do as he pleased as her eyes watered, trying her best to watch his face as he used her. It was the best feeling to her, actually. Knowing she was giving him this pleasure, that everyone else would wish they had a girl who could give them this type of pleasure.

“Fuck…. Fuck, m’gonna cum.” He hissed, pulling her down on his length. “Take it down your throat. That’s my girl….” He felt the heated bubble in his stomach burst, eyes shutting as he lulled his head back into the seat. Spurts of hot cum shot into her mouth, using her hand to work him throat it and swallowed around him. Feeling him pulse in her mouth, throbbing each time she got a pulse of his cum.

She was greedy, she could admit that. Pouting when Harry told her to pull off, kitten licking the tip as he shivered. Only able to fully stop when he yanked her head back.

“Said that was enough, puppy.” He warned. When his eyes got all dark and his tone was deep, it sent a tremor of aroused fear up her spine. “Already proved you were a cockslut f’me. Now come up here so I can take care of ‘ya.”

[weepingvoidpenguin]

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU. 

Word Count: 8.3k

   “We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing. 

   You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

   How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

   You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

   “And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

   You blinked, “Wait, what?” 

   Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

   “Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take. 

   “Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

   “Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way. 

   “The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

   “Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

   “No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment. 

   “Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

   “But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

   “All the easier,” 

~

   The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

   “How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

   “She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

   “Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

   “She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

   You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

   “I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

   Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear. 

   “The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

   You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

   An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

   Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same. 

   “And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

   “Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

   You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

   “You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

   “Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

   “This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

   “Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

   “The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

   You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

   “Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

   You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up. 

   “Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

   “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

   There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

   “Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

   You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

   “Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

   Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,” 

  “Much better,” Wanda agreed.

   You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

   “We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,” 

   “You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck. 

   They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

   “You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

   “More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

   “So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

   “That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

   You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now. 

   You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

   “Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

   “Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

   “Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way. 

   “Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

   “I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

   “Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

   “Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

   “All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

   You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife. 

   On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

   You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

   Fuck.

   “That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

   “And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

   There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

   “Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

   You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

   “What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

   You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

   “Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

   You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms. 

   “You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,” 

   You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

   A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

   “If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,” 

   You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

   He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

   “I’m not hiding myself,”

   “But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

   “And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

   The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

   “Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

   You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

   “Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with. 

   You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

   You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

   “So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

   You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

   “Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

   Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

   “Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

   “What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

   You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

   Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

   “I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

   You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each. 

   “Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

   “If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

   “Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them. 

   Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

   “What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

   Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man. 

   “It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

   “Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

   “Brat?” You snarled.

   Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it. 

   “Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

   You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in. 

   You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

   “Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

   “Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway. 

   “Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

   “What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

   “I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue. 

   “She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

   Water.

   You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

   “Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

   Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

   Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could. 

   Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

   You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

   “Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

   You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

   Why? Steve asked again.

   Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

   You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise. 

   Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

   “Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

   Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

   “I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

   “I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

   You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

   “You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

   A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

   You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

   Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

   You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him. 

   “What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

   You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

   “And what were you expecting?” 

   Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

   “Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

   You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

   “What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

   He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

   You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

   He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

   “And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

   “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

   You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

   He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

   “But are you?” 

   “Am I what?” 

   “Enjoying yourself?” 

   Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

   Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

   “Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

   “Thank you,”

   You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

   All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

   “Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

   The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

   “I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

   “Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

   She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound. 

   Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

   You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

   You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

   “She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

   You nodded fervently, “Yup!” 

   Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

   Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

   “Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,” 

   You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

   He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

   Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

   Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

   Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

   Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

   “I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

   “Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

   Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

   “What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

   “You’ve had enough for tonight,”

   “It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

   Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

   “Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

   “No,” he responded curtly. 

   “Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

   “No,”

   Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

   Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

   “’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

   You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

   Oh shit. Your job. The job.

   If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

   You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

   “How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

   Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

   “Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

   Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

   “You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

   “Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

   Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

   You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

   “Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

   “They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

   You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out. 

   You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

   “Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

   “There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

   You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

   You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

   “Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

   Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

   We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

   Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

   Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor. 

   “Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

   “I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

   Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t. 

   “How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

   “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

   “Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

   Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

   “You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

   A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

   “You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

   Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

   We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

   “So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?” 

   You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

   “You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

   The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

   “We?” 

   He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

   The shuffling started again.

   Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

   “Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

   “Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

   “I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

   Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

   The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

   “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

   You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire. 

   Fight. Move. 

   You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

   “Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

   “Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

   Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

   “Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

   Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

   Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

   Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch. 

   “Wha-”

   “Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

   Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

   “Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

   “We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

   “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” 

   Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to. 

   Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

   After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

   You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

   “Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

   “That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

   You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

   He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

   “You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

   “Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

   You nodded slowly, “I am,”

   Then a few more seconds.

   Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

   “Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

   “More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

   You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,” 

   He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

   You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

   Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

   You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

   “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

   “You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

   You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

   “Not to my face,”

   “Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours. 

   “It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

   “I see your hands are exposed,”

   He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

   You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

   Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

   You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

   “Stunning,” 

   “Smart?”

   “Genius,”

   “Good at her job?”

   “Amongst the best,”

   “Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

   Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

[lady-literature]

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet… 

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion. 

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time).  She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day. 

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

[binniesthighs]

cherry knot | reader x ryujin

a/n: you may be thinking to yourself, ro! a gg fic?? how unlike you!! well, boy do i have news for you 😂 truthfully, i’ve always been toying with the idea of writing a lil somethin’ (esp for ryujin god i love her) so i thought why not! if this isn’t your cup of tea, that’s totally okay <3 those who do read, thank you so much for reading and i hope that ya like it hehe and let me know what you think of it! :D (thank you @dom--minnie​ for enabling me too ;) 

cherry knot | reader x ryujin 

🍒 Pairing: self insert, female reader x shin ryujin 

🍒 Genre: fluff n’ a lil bit suggestive 

🍒 Tags: friends to lovers, high school au (everyone depicted is 18+), all girls school au, high school crush!ryujin, shy!reader, confession of feelings, that good, good makin’ out, ryujin being flirty and smug as hell bc i love her, yeah this is just me gushing about shin ryujin, ro trying new things on the blog :) 

🍒 Word count: 2.9k 

🍒 CWs: mentions of food and eating reader included

The grass felt sticky and uncomfortable under your crossed legs, and when you swiped your hand against the skin, you could feel the indentation from the blades. Your knee-high socks felt itchy too; everything felt itchy. Even the cotton of your shirt felt like it was suffocating, and the bow tied around your neck which hung loosely should have hung even looser. 

To distract yourself, you plucked up the blades of green and tied them into knots absentmindedly. It was easier to pay attention to your idle hands compared to paying attention to her. 

Could she even tell that you were looking? Could she see out of the corner of her eye when she threw her cotton-candy pink hair behind her ear? Could she tell that you watched as she gulped down the lemonade and caught a glance at the peachy fuzz of her neck exposed by her collar? 

Stop looking. Stop looking. 

Your other friends tied up their hair in clips and with lazy hair ties to free their sweating necks from the sun. No matter the sweltering heat, it was always tradition for your picnic just before the summer vacation. One of them had brought a cake and each of the girls attacked it viciously with small forks and smeared bits of frosting on each other’s noses. 

“Come here!! You’re next!!” They beamed while launching themselves in your direction to dot your nose with the white cream. 

A flurry of high pitched giggles peeled out from each of you once another frosting victim had been dubbed. Your cheeks felt furiously hot knowing that she was looking; and that she was laughing along with the rest of them. 

“Awwww cute.” She adored with a smile that turned her dimples into whiskers on her cheeks. 

You quickly wiped it off with a handkerchief that settled into your damp hand.  

She’s looking, she’s looking…

The other girls pranced around the checkered picnic blanket in their white socks--undoubtedly painting them with green that their mothers would scold them for later. Their careless steps made a mess of the food wrappers and canvas backpacks that held down the corners of the thin fabric. The joyous cheers of the girls seemed to harmonize with the song of the cicadas in the trees; both sounds reminded you of the coming of the summer and the humid weather that makes the air dense. 

One of the girls brought out her phone and played loudly from it one of her favorite songs which she knew every word too, regardless of the fact that her tone was far from the singer’s. 

You and your friends never cared much for how others would view you. Even at school when you would march through the hallways arm-and-arm, others would stare at the way that none of you batted an eye at those who would glare. 

They were just jealous was all. 

“Be careful!!” You found yourself scolding, “What if you fall running around like that?” 

In response, your friends promptly stuck out their tongues in your general direction. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryujin coolly popped another cherry into her mouth from the bowl by her crossed legs. “If they fall, let them! It's funnier that way.” 

She threw a wink right at you, which you almost didn’t catch because you had quickly averted your eyes to become much more interested in the tiny tea-cakes. 

“You’re always worrying Y/n! Its summer!”

“I-I do not.” 

Ryujin chuckled in that way that always made you feel like your heart was just about ready to leap out of your chest. 

“Lighten up! Come on!” 

Before you could process it all, your friend patted down the wrinkles in her skirt and threw off her shoes. She rose, and neared your corner of the blanket with hands outstretched. 

“Stop worrying about things or if people are watching!” She scolded you with a cute and tiny pout, “Get up!” Ryujin wriggled her hands with emphasis to show you that you could take hold of them. 

“W-what…?” 

The other girls giggled on, hardly even noticing the two of you over their singing. 

You grabbed onto her hands, already loathing how damp your own felt against hers out of your own nervousness. She still held onto you tightly, saying nothing of them and helped you to your feet. Immediately she brightened once you played along and started to swing your arms in tune with the song. Your friend lip synced to the rap part and you felt just about ready to swoon from how cool she looked saying the words with ease. 

“Dance with me!! Don’t pay attention to people walking by or anything like that!” 

Ryunjin led you by the hand to the patch of grass with little white and pink flowers laced into it. You really did try to pay attention to dancing, but everything else seemed to be distracting even when you tried hard enough. She brought your hand up higher to spin her, and when she twisted, everything seemed to happen in slow motion: the billow of her plaid shirt, her rosy-pink hair which swiped just at her shoulders, even the way that the sunset melted behind her into swirls of sunburst yellow and vibrant orange. It was like she was all a part of it. 

“Your turn!” She said, twisting you too. 

You didn’t realize that you would have been as dizzied by it as you were, but when you lost your footing, she was just as quick to help you with her hands carefully grasped onto your shoulders. 

“You okay?” Ryujin asked, out of breath, but still genuine. 

“I’m fine!” 

Your knees wobbled with barely any strength to them, but you mustered every bit of confidence that you had to keep being this close to her. You surprised yourself when you reached back for her hands to continue swinging them between you. 

The other girls collapsed back onto the blanket in a pile of shallow exhales and airy laughs that they exchanged between them. 

“No more dancing, I-I can’t do any more…” One of them announced while leaning against the shoulder of another one of your friends. 

“I forgot! I brought this!!” One of your friends with pigtail braids dove deeply into her backpack and pulled out nearly all of the contents before finding the small cube-case which was decorated with an obscene amount of keychains. “My camera! We have to take some pictures so that we can remember this!” 

The other girls squealed in agreement and ganged up on her to fit into the frame of the white Polaroid camera that she had also splattered with stickers. 

“Here, I wanna show you something.” Ryujin drew your attention back to the blanket where she settled back down with her own bag draped over her legs. 

“What is it?” 

“Ryujinnie! I wanna take your picture too! Your pink hair is so pretty…” One of your friends cooed with a sad downturn to her lips, “I hope that you never change it.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. We’ll see. My cousin has been saying that she wants to see what I would look like blonde these days.” 

The small talk didn’t concern you too much, you were more concerned with what it was that your friend had to show you. 

“I’m going on a trip with my cousins soon so we’ll see what happens.” 

Your friend sighed, and skipped over the mess of the blanket to pull Ryujin by the wrist to the walkway a little farther off. “You’d look so cute over here!” 

She pardoned her, and stumbled after the eager girl to let her take a Polaroid of her. Even from far away, you could still hear the two of them admire the picture with happy little expressions of “ah! I told you that it would look good!” 

The two girls returned, and you began to worry if your friend even remembered what she had said in the first place. 

What is it? What does she want to show me? 

“Shoot!!” Another one of your friends huffed out while looking at her phone, “I forgot that I have to tutor the middle schoolers today!! I’m late!!” 

The girls went to action in a mere matter of seconds sweeping up the picnic assortment and shoving the leftovers into their backpacks. 

You helped them and tried to look over to your other friend who didn’t return your glances. Perhaps she really had forgotten. 

You let your imagination run wild for just a few moments, although the more that you did, the more it all just seemed preposterous. Maybe it was a confession letter, maybe she had written for you one of those poems like she had liked to do, maybe she had rather wanted to talk to you about something...say something that you wanted to say back…

“I’m going to stick around.” Ryunjin said suddenly with her hands on her hips. “Y/n, you’re welcome to stay too if you want. We don’t exactly have to go home yet since the sun’s still up.” 

Your friends looked to you for your answer, to which you stammered out an, “O-okay…” The best that you could. 

“See you later!!” They called after with their shoes only half-slid onto their feet. 

You waved them off, but the farther that they walked away, the more the realization started to hit you that you were alone with her. The sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and you calmed it trying to think about anything else but the fact that now her attention was truly undivided upon you. 

“You said that you wanted to show me something?” 

Your friend nodded, and patted the grass beside her for you to join her. She gathered up the small bundle of cherries left behind and positioned them into her lap. 

“I learned this trick a little bit ago and I wanted to show you!” 

“A trick?” 

She nodded, and plucked from one of the crimson berries a stem which she put directly into her mouth. 

“What are you doing?!” On the surface, it didn’t seem like the most sanitary thing to do. 

Ryunjin stifled a laugh and lightly hit you on the arm to chastise you. “Just wait a minute!” 

You watched in your confusion as her face contorted a little, and her eyebrows twisted like she was thinking. Her cheeks puffed a little too, and you could tell that she was doing something with it in her mouth--it was only then when you realized that you had been intensely observing her mouth. 

In your embarrassment you threw your eyes in the other direction, but it was no use one you heard her start to giggle at how flustered you had become. 

“It’s okay, you’re supposed to look.” She assured you. 

“What-what is it?” 

“Annnnd done!” Your friend proclaimed proudly and you struggled to meet her again without feeling like your whole face and the tips of your ears were burning up. 

Right on the pink of her tongue she had tied the stem into a tiny knot which she displayed proudly. 

“You...did that with your tongue?” 

“Mm-hm!” 

Your hands reduced back to their clammy state, and they found the grass between your own folded legs to find something to do. 

“That's...that’s pretty cool…” 

“I know right?!” 

Back came your friend's little dimples, and this time your chest started to feel like it was swelling with heat. 

Stop looking, stop looking…

“I can teach you how to do it some day if you’d like.” Ryujin’s tone dropped lower, and more serious in the way that some had thought to be intimidating. To you, there was nothing more that could make you feel the beat of your own heart more obviously. 

“Teach me? How??” 

The question felt like a butterfly in your lips, fluttering and ticklish, light and uncertain. You met her eyes the best you could; even though you knew that there was nothing about her that you didn’t already know, or that was threatening. 

Your friend tilted her head, inspecting you and the way that you could barely keep your glance away from her lips--stained just a little red from the cherries--then smiled. 

“W-what? What is it? Why are you smiling?” 

She sighed, and craned forward on one of her hands in the grass, bridging the distance between the two of you to caress down the side of your face, all the way to your jaw with the back of her fingers. 

“You’re just too cute.” 

“Hm?” Your chest threw itself up and down, and you could thinly feel the breath that tried to fill your lungs when she was this close. 

“I just can’t handle it any more.” 

“Me?” 

Ryunjin nodded, softening her eyes until they were nearly closed, and rid the two of you of all space, leaning over just so you could feel the weight of her chest nearly pressing into yours. At first, she placed the lightest of kisses into you, so light that it barely brushed against your lips, but merely imprinted upon them. She leaned back, leaving you with the ghost of a feeling of her upon you. It felt a bit unfair how fleeting it was, and how she looked at you like that: smug as ever, but as blissful as she always was. 

Your breaths tried to make sense of it all, if it had just happened, and what to think of it. As quick as it was, all you could want was to feel it again. 

“Ryu--” 

She cradled both sides of your face in hers, leaning in with more fervor and parting your lips with hers, leaving you to squeak from the sudden movement. You couldn’t figure out how to kiss back at first, or if you should hold her too. Your head felt like it was spinning in circles from your disbelief when you could taste the tiny tang of the sweet and sour cherries which lingered on her lips. She rubbed her thumbs into your cheeks, and angled you better to let her growing smile paint your own mouth from corner to corner. 

At last, you were able to find a rhythm which suited you, and you kissed her right back. She giggled at your stroke of confidence and the vibrations made your whole body tingle. Your feet had surely fallen asleep where you had folded them beside you, but the numb feeling of them dissolved once her hands fell to your shoulder where she held to you tightly. The pressure from the tips of her fingers made you shiver, and you too smoothed down the pink shine of her hair. 

The warm and ticklish feeling of her tongue grazed your lower lip where she changed her approach and deepened her kiss. The heat of tongues finally met in the middle testing and learning more of the other the closer that you became, and tiny airy gasps got stuck between both of your curiosity. In your lap, her hands found yours and they laced together and held tight; each digit wrapping the other and becoming one with the eagerness of her thumb rubbing little circles into the squishy parts of your hand. 

After the heat of your passion started to melt, you found yourself hiding your giddy laughter the best you could once she started to peck at your lips over and over until you felt like she had kissed you so close to the brim that you would overflow. 

“I said that you’re cute and I mean it!” She snuck the phrase in between a couple more kisses, eliciting you to fold up in your giddy embarrassment from the compliment. 

Ryunjin pulled away, and popped another cherry into her mouth from the bundle, then threw her arms around your shoulders. You simply let your hands rest in her lap covered by the plaid of her skirt; shaking from the release of the endorphins and the adrenaline. 

“Ryujin...I wanted to tell you that I’ve had a crush on you for a...really long time…” You shied, but she brought your chin back to look at her directly. 

“Good. Me too.” 

You couldn’t even process the combination of her words for them to make sense. White noise filled your ears, even though it should have been obvious from the way that she had kissed you like that. 

“Oh! Here. I wanted to give this to you too. Something to remember me by.” 

She reached for her bag, and pulled out a white-out pen from the front pocket. The Polaroid had faded into its full color, and she focused with her tongue peeking from her mouth as she wrote the message: 

see you soon <3 

- ryujinnie 

Over her head in the picture, she doodled a few hearts, then she blew on the ink to dry it. 

“For you!” 

You took the picture with your hands still thoroughly shaking, and all you could utter was a “thanks” while you took in your friend looking as gorgeous as she always was. You knew then that you would treasure the image forever, and the day which it was taken. 

“Who knows,” Ryujin started, and let her head fall to your shoulder where she nuzzled in, “This might be the last that you’ll see of my pink hair too.” 

You turned the picture over, already sensing how it made your heart feel like it was aching sticky and sweet, just like the cherries. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @dom--minnie @waterthemoon @pastelracha @mistakensilence @hotgorloikawa @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim 

[lo-frequency]

Hello, how are you?! May I please request Shinsou with a chubby/ plus size Female S/O? I adore that you do plus size content and I love body positivity content as well!! Thank you💗

Hey, I’m doing great, thanks for asking! Can I also add how cool it is to see you on my blog? I’ve read your work before, and from one creator to another, thank you for the love and support and keep doing your thing 💕! Anyways, this post is Long enough w/o this author’s note...I kinda wrote a fic in headcanon form so w/o further ado, please enjoy your request: 

-Of course, just like the rest of the characters, he would not place much importance on your body type

-He knows what it’s like to be ostracized for a trait people consider undesirable, so how could he do the same thing to you? 

-I think that because Shinsou is so focused on his goals, he probably wouldn’t be actively considering/seeking a relationship, so it would have to be you who showed interest first. 

-Like imagine, you’re in the same class and he was so cool you couldn’t help but develop feelings for him, admiring him from afar. During class, your eyes wander to him and sometimes he’ll catch your longing stare. 

-The first few times he caught you staring, he figured it was for the same reason everyone else does- you were watching for any signs of villainy, just waiting for him to slip up and prove them right 

-But with how flustered you always get when he meets your eyes and how your friends tease you whenever it happens, he begins to suspect it’s something else. Hm, interesting.

-He began to openly stare at you too, to test his theory, and the day you hesitantly smiled back confirmed what he was thinking: you must like him.

-Shinsou turned around in his seat, his subtle smirk hidden behind the hand on his chin. A girl, liking him? It’s not that he thought he was undesirable, quite the contrary actually (y’all keep sleeping on this man 👀), he’s just not used to the attention. 

-He thought about what to do, now that he was aware of his little admirer. He didn’t really have any friends at U.A., now all of a sudden there’s someone crushing on him? He glanced back at you again, just quick enough to see your eyes dart from his. Cute. Maybe he could try to get to know you, at least? 

-Now, Shinsou is an introvert, but definitely not shy...so when he comes up to your desk one day during break, you nearly choke on your own heart. “Hey,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck, “couldn’t help but notice you staring.” While you tried to stutter out a frantic apology, his lips eased into their usual smirk. 

-And your relationship took off from there. Talking in class and eating lunch together progressed to hanging out after school, and eventually you found yourself sitting with him at a park, about to confess your feelings. 

-The frustrating thing about Shinsou was that you were certain he knew you liked him, but never acted on it. He was the one that initiated your friendship, but had left everything up to you since then. Acting as if he was oblivious to your real feelings. 

-If it wasn’t for that, you wouldn’t be feeling so nervous right now. Shinsou was usually straightforward, so was this a sign he didn’t feel the same way? After all...you were heavier than most of the girls in your class, a fact that always lingered in the back of your mind when you were with him. “Hitoshi…” you started, looking up at him from your place on your shared park bench. Shinsou met your eyes, silent as he watched you fidget with your skirt. His keen purple irises remained neutral as they flickered over your features. You were sure you probably looked as self-conscious as you felt, but there was no going back now.

- “I’m, I’m sure you know this already but I like you.” you let out in a rush, your eyes darting from his as you said it. When he didn’t say anything, you felt the need to keep talking “I’ve liked you since before we met. You’re so smart and cool that I couldn’t believe you came up to talk to me that day. I was so happy,” you say with a short laugh, “and after spending time with you, my feelings only grew...so, d-do you wanna try going out with me, Toshi?” you ask, still picking at your skirt. 

-“Yeah, I’d like that,” he replied with a soft smile, “It’s about time you finally asked me.” 

-So he did know! But more importantly, “Really? You wouldn’t mind...someone like me?” you gestured to yourself vaguely, too embarrassed to openly ask if he minded your weight. 

-Hitoshi squinted at you. “You mean a really hot girl with brains to match? Nah, I don’t think so.” Cue the smirk. 

-Well, that sure answered your question. 

NOW, onto these relationship headcanons (congrats, you earned these 💀) 

-As your boyfriend, Hitoshi would be even more blunt with you than usual, and that includes with his compliments. He’d shamelessly admire your figure, seeing no reason to hold back now that y’all were official. Expect those lidded eyes to drink in those thick thighs, plush waist, and full bosom (in that order) every time you enter or leave a room. 

-Eye contact, eye contact until you get flustered and trip over your words, until you feel like the only girl in the world, until you can’t see anything but him. 

-He doesn’t make a big deal out of your relationship at school, but does enjoy flaunting how close you two are. Makes a point to do everything with you, it’s you and Shinsou against the world in his mind. 

-Speaking of school, I think he’s one of those people who likes it when other people crush on his s/o. Likes it when other people notice exactly how attractive you are, but guess what? You’re all his. He’ll sit back and watch those poor, lovesick saps drool over you and think about how lucky he is. He’ll definitely share his appreciation for you later, too ;) 

-Squeezes you tight during hugs, so he can feel all of your softness against him, reveling in your warmth and how comfortable you make him. Has a habit of squeezing your sides during side-hugs, and smiles at the little sound you make. 

-Will sometimes throw and arm around your waist as you two walk together, thumb mindlessly caressing your hip 

-Loves it when you press against him while y’all are sitting together, something about your warmth and weight against him puts him right to sleep.

-Anyone who has anything to say about you or your relationship is getting their feelings hurt by Toshi. He’d tell you not to dwell on it too much afterwards, but you can tell it bothered him more than it did you by the way he kept randomly grumbling about it on the way home. 

-You’re his other half, and anyone who messes with his baby is messing with him, period. 

[moxfirefly]

Hey! I'm not sure if you're still accepting these, if not it's totally cool but you're writing is amazing I just had to ask! Could you do one with 24 and 49 with Mikey and a female reader? Again I absolutely love your work!!!

I most certainly can 👍

"Spit on it."

"I've been missing these panties for weeks, tell me why I just found them in your drawer."

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Finding something in Mikey’s chaos was no easy accomplishment. If anything you’d consider yourself a professional scavenger hunter by the end of it, you could set out to look for Atlantis with how confident you’d feel.

Mikey’s room wasn’t dirty, it was just messy. The boy did his laundry, hell even did yours when you would stay for weeks on end with him, but where was everything put?

In god fucking knows where, that’s where.

The current missing object was a pair of underwear. A dumb thing to be huffing and puffing about but at some point in the night as you slept, you had remembered the satin (and not cheap!) undergarment you’d bought from a bougie online store.

They came in a set with an equally beautiful bra.

They were also (on purpose) orange.

You should’ve seen it coming, naturally that one night you’d worn them he’d nearly proposed with a ring pop before going to town on you for a few hours. In that daze (and after sleeping like a rock all morning) you had completely forgotten the piece of satin fabric.

You searched almost everywhere. Under the bed, the drawers, you even snuck a look on Raph’s top bunk if maybe by mistake it was there but nothing. Just as you were about give up, you looked back at Mikey’s bed and squinted your eyes. You tossed the blanket and scanned, you tossed your pillow and then his.

Nothing.

“Dammit” You mumbled grumpily before your eyes landed on his night table.

Could it be that easy? You extended your arm from defeated position on the bed and dug inside.

Just as Mikey walked in, you pulled the orange satin fabric and looked back at him.

"I've been missing these panties for weeks, tell me why I just found them in your drawer." You gave him a face, brow raised and lips pursed in a line.

And here’s the thing you’d learned quickly while dating the orange banded terrapin, his propensity of not feeling in the slightest embarrassed about things like this, were astronomical. In fact the little shit had one of YOUR jackets tied around his waist right now and a bracelet that was also yours around his left wrist.

Mikey placed both his hands on his hips as you spun the underwear around your finger. “I believe those are mine” He said, the audacity of this man sometimes.

“Oh excuse me, you’re most certainly right, you’re usually wearing all MY clothes” When he approached the bunk you gripped your underwear away from him. Smirking triumphantly you watched him frown then cross his arms. “Come on babe, I like ‘em! There’s no crime in that and you take plenty of my stuff” He huffed out, pointing at the sleep shirt you were actually sporting right now.

“Mikey, one Rum DMC shirt you wore when you were nine does not count, it’s either that or I freeze to death” Colder weather down here could be pretty strong at times.

“Well sometimes you’re not down here for days and I miss you” He smirked, it only took you a few seconds to understand. “You better wash these!” You scooted towards the edge of the bed and grabbed him by the hem of his signature orange and black shorts. Ninja skills permitted him to halt your attack and instead hold your hands. Mikey had the audacity to giggle as you tried to sneak your way out, runt of the group or not he could show off his strength so easily at times.

He knelt down in front of you and kissed the inside of both your wrists.

“What color are you wearing now?” He asked softly, switching his advances onto your knees. Almost on muscle memory your legs spread but you wanted to stand your ground, and not lose another pair!

His fingers massaged the backs of your knees and you bit your lip.

He kissed the exposed parts of your thighs, shirt riding up ever so much.

And futilely but not unwelcomed, your legs began to spread for him.

“Yellow is so cute on you babes” And parting is such sweet sorrow, another pair about to be stolen right in front of you. He smiled up at you as he did it too, slid the fabric down your legs and off before gently nudging you to lay on the bed.

He hiked up your legs over his shoulders and gave your sex a soft kiss, enjoying that little tremble he pulled from you.

“You mad at me?” He asked, the absolute picture of sunshine. You sat up slightly on your elbows and red faced told him, “Spit on it” much to his fucking delight.

You wanted to groan, embarrassed at how much it excited you to see that string of saliva fall onto your folds before Mikey, quite literally, dug in like it was dinner. The moment he felt your hands on the back of his head, pushing him forwards, he churred. The three fingered vice grip he had on your thighs was comforting for you, that expert tongue of his flicking over your most intimate and sensitive spot al ready had you squeezing his head with your thighs.

And to add more to your embarrassment, Mikey without difficulty or harsh breathing, pulled the first and second orgasms out of you via his tongue. Just when you began to babble incoherently, he yanked another one from you that sent you back on the bed with your hips thrusting upwards into his face.

Hearing him groan only made it worse, feeling him restrain your thrashing with his hands only made it worse.

Your hands shot up towards your mouth to hold in the moans that everyone would clearly hear. In your haze you managed to open one eye and find that Mikey had reached up to sneak his hand inside your shirt to grab your breast (he normally did that when he was close)

Oh.

You placed your hand on top of his, resting your heels on his shell as he worked you over faster and bringing you to one more trembling release. You nearly bit down on your hand as you felt relief and excitement spread all through your body. Mikey moaned as he released your clit, hot gusts of air hitting your thigh as he shook.

“Ffu-“ He opened his eye slowly, seeing the skin of your thigh and feeling your hand rubbing up and down his forearm. Moving a little so as to look up at you, he gave your boob a small squeeze. “You good, girl?” He swallowed catching his breath. All you could do was nod, wiggling your toes to flex them.

He kissed your thighs before giving it a gentle bite. Slowly as he stood, you saw the mess he’d made of himself but soon those were slid and kicked off.

Mikey was already climbing onto the bed with the mission to knock you out with a few more rounds.

How else would he be able to steal your newest pair of underwear?

[velvetcloxds]

CURVES| D.H.

Pairing: Derek x fem!Reader

Word count: 1885 words

Warning: discussing body image, negative opinion of body, body comparison

Summary: Reader and Derek have been friends for years. Derek finds her in her kitchen worrying over having to go swimming with Lydia and reader explains her struggle with her body image.

“I don’t know.” I say, holding my books tighter against my chest as I follow Lydia to the bleachers. She frowns.

“Please,” She begs, grabbing my arms and pulling me to a stop. “It’s been forever since we did anything together, just the girls,” She explains and looks back to where Jackson and the other lacrosse players are walking out of the school building. “I need a night without lacrosse talk.” She says and I smile lightly at her little eyes roll, but frown again when she looks back at me for a reply.

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” I ask and she nods with a satisfied smile and I sigh loudly. “Can I convince you to do anything else?” She shakes her head quickly.

“Shopping and sunbathing, Y/n. It’s all we need, “ She says, linking our arms as we start walking again. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and we’ll go get some new bikini’s before going to the lake house,” She informs me and nods at Jackson who is waving her over to the bench. “Duty calls. Stop pouting it’s going to be fun.” She tells me and boops my nose before scurrying away towards Jackson and I shake my head with a smile as I watch her leave. I stay still for a while, making sure she reaches him without being hassled by anyone and then turn to leave, already dreading the weekend ahead, even though it’s quite literally just begun.

I fall into step quite quickly, only pausing to put my books into my bag before walking home. My parents are working late again, so I have the house for myself for a couple of hours, but if history has taught me anything, it’s that Derek Hale tends to show up unplanned and unfed, whenever he wants. Not that I mind, it’s always been like that and only more so since the fire.

I lock the door behind me, throwing my bag onto the couch and heading to the kitchen. I shake my head when I see Derek’s car parked in the backyard, just like I thought it would be and grab the pizza bites out of the freezer. The stairs creek behind me as the microwave starts doing its thing and I throw the empty box away.

“How did you get in here?” I ask, turning around just as he takes a seat at the table. “The door was locked.” I add with an amused smile as he stares up at me.

“But your window wasn’t.” He says and smirks happily. I shake my head as I slip onto the counter.

“Derek, my bedroom is a mess.” I say, only now remembering that I was too lazy to clean it up before going to school. Derek nods his head quickly, brows raised for effect.

“Hell yeah, it is,” He says and shrugs. “Don’t freak out, you know I don’t mind,” He adds sweetly and I smile over at him before focusing my attention on my folded legs, fiddling with my fingers as the sound of the microwave fills the room. I hear him sigh softly, moving in his chair. “What’s up?” He asks and I shrug.

“Nothing.” I reply too quickly and he scoffs.

“Bullshit,” I look up at him surprised. “I can literally smell that you’re not okay,” He informs me and I raise my brow at him in confusion. He rolls his eyes. “Chemo signals, Y/n. Now tell me what’s going on?” I think it over for a moment before shaking my head with a sigh.

“You wouldn’t understand.” I say and the alarm from the microwave pings to tell me it’s done and I use that as a momentary distraction, jumping down and getting it, placing it down in front of him.

“On account of the fact that I’m not of the feminine variety or no longer of the teenage variety?” He asks, lightly grabbing my wrist to stop me from leaving. I shrug again and he nods. “Ahh, both.” He uses his foot to push back a chair and then smiles as I rip my arm away from him. “Sit. And talk.” He orders and I roll my eyes as I take a seat next to him, watching as he grabs a pizza bite from the plate.

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Most things are,” He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you anyway.” I let out a loud breath, reaching for a pizza bite, but pulling my hand back slowly, he watches the gesture carefully, raising a brow at me.

“You know Lydia, right?” I ask and he thinks it over before nodding, chewing slowly as he waits for more information. “Would you say that she is, I don’t know, good looking?” I ask and he leans back in his chair with a shrug.

“I guess.”

“Exactly,” I almost shout and he flinches, furrowing his brows as I settle back down in my chair. “Exactly.” I repeat, calmer this time. “She’s very pretty and her hair is silky and she’s in perfect shape, like the perfect possible shape. One could go as far as to say that she’s like the perfect example of what we’re expected to look like.”

“We, being all girls?” He asks and I nod, leaning onto the table with my elbows.

“Yes.” I look down at the table. “Except that not everyone does look like that, perfect,” I say and frown. “Some of us aren’t as one would say, skinny.” I clarify and look up to find him smiling lightly, leaning onto the table as well, he looks me over slowly.

“I really hope this isn’t you hating on yourself right now, because you’re literally ridiculously beautiful and I’d be damned if you’ve somehow convinced yourself otherwise.” He says in an effortlessly smooth tone that would usually prompt me to blush, but I roll my eyes instead.

“Okay, you saying that doesn’t count.” I say, taking a pizza bite and munching on it. He scoffs.

“Why not?” I laugh softly.

“You’re like family, Derek. There’s some sort of inclined niceness that goes with it, you have to say shit like that. It’s like a mom telling you that your dress is nice or my brother telling me my hair doesn’t look horrible. It doesn’t count.” He raises a brow, sitting back quickly, his face disgusted as he looks at me.

“Okay, first of all, I’m not like a brother and please don’t put me in a position to act as such because then the way I look at you would be rather questionable,” He says, looking over at me seriously to make sure I get what he means, and I bite my lip to hide a smile forming. “And secondly…” He looks me over again, eyes darker as he smiles at me. “When I called you beautiful, I was also implying how crazy hot you are, which doesn’t sound like a compliment, but bloody hell you’re in no position to think you’re ugly.” He ends and despite myself, I feel my cheeks warming up. I swallow slowly as I look back to the table, not sure what to say until his hand numbly takes hold of mine on the table. “Not everyone looks the same, doesn’t mean that you’re ugly by default, it just means you have a different form of beauty.” He tells me, tone softer this time.

“You really think that?” I ask, fingers folding around his own around his own. He smiles.

“Of course, I do.” He says and tilts his head to get my attention. “Do you know me to say something just because I know that it’s what you want to hear?” I laugh lightly as I shake my head and his smile grows as a result. “Exactly. Now, don’t let me ever hear you talking down on yourself again, you’re much more than just your body. Doesn’t matter what size or shape you’re in, I’ll always think you’re pretty bloody brilliant. “

“Thank you,” I reply softly and gently pull my hand away from his when I realize that I haven’t let go yet. “You want something to drink?” I ask, standing up from the chair awkwardly, he laughs lightly while he nods and I pretend not to notice as I walk over to the fridge. It’s silent for a second and the plate scuffs against the table as he eats another few pizza bites.

“I mean it, you know,” He says, confusing me as I place our glasses down on the table. “You might be my default family, but I do not see you as my sister,” He clarifies and I clearly am not doing a good job of hiding my shock or the fact that I obviously don’t see him as a brother either. He laughs. “You really think that I come here everyday for the pizza bites?” He asks and I shrug.

“We do buy the good brand.” I say, mockingly and he rolls his eyes, far from serious or annoyed.

“You do. But I come here for you,” He announces like it’s nothing and my heart does a full-on backflip because holy shit, this man can’t possibly be serious. He smiles. “I heard that.” He says and looks at my chest when the embarrassment makes my heart beat even faster, he smiles likes he’s achieved something great and then gets up from his chair, picking up the empty plate as he does. I frown.

“Wait does this mean that…”

“Oh, I’ve been very much aware of our shared attraction for quite some time,” He says and my mouth all but falls open as I stare at him, a look he completely ignores while he puts the plate in the sink. “Speaking of, are you free tomorrow?” He asks me casually and I shake my head because clearly words will fail me. He nods. “Next weekend then, you can wear that red dress you hide in the back of your closet, the one that shows your curves,” He smiles when I stare at him blankly. “I really do love your curves, Y/n.” He informs me as he starts heading to the door, making me stand up as well.

“Where are you going?”

“Your mom is on her way home,” He informs me and shrugs. “And truth be told, I think I might send you into shock if I stay any longer.” He explains and once again steals a glance at my chest where even I can hear my heart nearly exploding.

“You didn’t drink your juice.” I say and he folds his arms in front of him, smirking with a raised brow.

“I think you need it more than I do. Cool down and all that.” He says and I gasp.

“Derek Hale,” I say, walking towards him. “I did not peg you as the type of guy who just shamelessly flirts with his best friend.” I say, stilling in front of him. He smiles.

“I think there’s a lot of things you might not know about me, Y/n.” He says and looks over at the door when my mom pulls into the driveway. He leans forward slightly, kissing the top of my head sweetly, completely contrasting his words before pulling away. “I think this is going to be fun.”

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubert. Mxx.

Masterlist

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[kyotarou]

One bed scenario for izuku, shouto, tamaki and dabi? I really liked the last one

characters: izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, tamaki amajiki, dabi

plot (deku, shoto, & tamaki): you’re invited to a weekend getaway for a class celebration, but some miscalculations lead to some awkward situations

warnings: mild swearing

a/n: since dabi isn’t part of u.a. the plot for his scenario will be explained below :) also this is a bit long i apologize if it’s a lot to read

part 1

Izuku Midoriya

Class 1-A takes a trip to Kyoto during the spring when the cherry blossoms have bloomed and the city is pink

Everyone is free to do as they please as long as they meet back at the hotel by a certain time or else everyone is going to assume they were kidnapped

Deku’s excited cause he’s never gone on a trip with all his friends like this before

He’s the type of person to have a backpack full of water, snacks, money, and a map with a ton of places marked off

Drags you by the wrist all over the city and manages to cross off all the spots on the map with enough time to squeeze in some extra destinations

At the end of the day, you and Deku head up to the room you decided to share, exhausted and ready to sleep until noon

Upon opening the door, you both do a double-take

“Uh, Izuku, am I seeing things, or is there only one bed?”

“Nope, there’s only one.”

“Um, I guess one of us could take the floor?”

Neither you or Deku actually want to sleep on the floor, but you don’t want to come off as rude, so you play a game of, “No, I will,” until it gets too tiring

“Let’s just share, yeah?”

“Oh, (Y/N), are you sure?”

“Well, we’re not getting anywhere aren’t we?”

He’s trying his best to not seem flustered as you crawl into bed next to him

It’s not as uncomfortable as you thought, but you’re worried about Deku and how he looks like he’s about to have a heart attack

You scoot to the edge of the bed with your back to him, hoping it makes things less awkward, and fall asleep

You wake up to the sound of rustling and try to get up to check the time but something’s holding you back

You look down to see Deku’s arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight, while his lips brush against your neck, murmuring your name in his sleep

Your face heats up and you realize staying like this for the rest of the day isn’t so bad

Shoto Todoroki

You hang out with your friends but grow tired quickly and decide to head back to the hotel early and relax at the spa

You’re surprised to see Shoto in the spa house too, towel draped over his shoulder, no shirt, with shorts on

It makes your heart race and cheeks burn with embarrassment because holy fuck does your crush look good right now

He’s super chill about it and thinks your red face is from the steam of the hot tub or the sauna

“Hello, (Y/N), why aren’t you out with the others?”

“Oh, um, I was getting tired and just wanted to relax.”

“I see. Well, care to join me?” He hangs the towel on a hook and settles into the hot tub

You’re standing there, legs shaking, realizing you’re going to have to strip in front of him

Shoto stares at you expectantly and sees you hesitating

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I’ll look away.”

After taking off your clothes, swimsuit underneath, you get in beside him

It’s a bit tense at first, but soon you loosen up and have some good, interesting conversations

At bedtime, Iida is listing out the pairs and the room numbers and you hear him say, “(L/N) and Todoroki, room 207.”

“Huh?! Iida, are you sure? I was supposed to be with Denki!”

“Hm, it says Denki’s with Sero on the list. You two must’ve gotten mixed up, I apologize. Will you be okay or do you want to switch?”

“I’m fine with it, how about you (Y/N)?”

You feel like you’re going to collapse because your crush just agreed to be in the same room as you, but you nod a little too excitedly and take the elevator up

As if the day couldn’t get any better worse, there’s only one bed in your room

Even Shoto is a bit taken aback but, being the responsible boy he is, he offers to request a different room, or at least bring a cot up

Without thinking, you blurt out, “What if we shared?” and your whole body stiffens in embarrassment

Surprisingly, Shoto isn’t opposed to it, but he asks if you’re 100% with it first, then gets into bed

His body is cold next to yours and you shiver a little too violently, back turned to him

Shoto takes notice and you feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Sorry, let me warm you up.”

He uses his Quirk and heats up the bed, and although you know it’s an innocent gesture, your mind can’t help but wander elsewhere

“Oh, um, thank you,” you whisper, relaxing in the warmth

“Of course.”

Little did you know, Shoto’s heart was beating a mile a minute, because he too didn’t want to scare his crush—you

Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki stays in the hotel the entire day

It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with his friends; he’s afraid of getting lost or doing something to mess up the trip for his classmates

You stay with Tamaki in his room, chatting about whatever comes to mind

“Are you sure you want to stay? I don’t want to hold you back.”

“It’s alright, we have two days left anyway. I like being with you, Tamaki!”

He hides the blush growing on his face and you smile because of how cute he looks

Tamaki’s room only has one bed, which isn’t surprising, since it was noted one person would need to be alone due to the odd number of students

Problem was it wasn’t stated who would be alone

As you’re exploring his room, gawking at the view from the window and all the cool little knickknacks, you throw open the closet doors and freeze when you see your stuff

“Huh? Why is this here? Tamaki, did you take my bag on accident?”

“Ah, no! I only brought my stuff up, someone must’ve put it there by mistake.”

You call Nejire and ask about the rooms

“Hmm, it seems like you and Tamaki must’ve been given the same room. Sorry for not checking it over, do you want to be moved?”

“Ah, it’s fine, I guess.”

You and Tamaki try to go back to your conversation but you can tell how nervous he is since night is approaching quickly

Bedtime comes and Tamaki nearly screams when he feels your body pressed against his

Guilt washes over you; “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. I’ll go down and get a cot.”

As you’re about to slip out from under the covers, Tamaki suddenly grabs your arm and buries his face in his pillow

“Uhm, (Y/N), i-it’s okay. Y-You can stay, uhm, ah-”

He opens one eye and quickly shuts it, pressing himself so far into the pillow you swear he’s going to suffocate

Confused, you look around, but there’s nothing in the room beside you two in the dark

It hits you— “Tamaki, are you… scared of the dark?”

“What, no! I-I-”

He lets out a little squeak when you stroke his hair, face inches from his

“It’s okay, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Dabi

You were a vigilante, an anti-hero who believed in helping others but despised the flashiness and celebrity status of pro heroes

Your Quirk, Feline, which gave you the characteristics of a cat, allowed you to work in the comfort of darkness where it was difficult to catch you

You rarely got injured due to your agility, but this night, your target had a Quirk that allowed them to see in the darkness, and left you stumbling down the street with a gash in your side

“Rough night, little kitty?”

Dabi stands under a streetlamp with a smirk

You and Dabi weren’t friends by any means, but you held a certain level of respect for him; part of it was so he wouldn’t cremate you

“Shut up,” you scowl. “I’m perfectly fine- hrgh.”

You press your hand over the wound, blood slipping past your fingers

Suddenly, Dabi throws you over his shoulder, your head knocking against his back as he carries you to his place

“What the fuck- Put me down!”

He lays you on the bed, uncharacteristically gentle, and cleans your wound with a towel

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not gonna let my little kitty walk around like this.”

Dabi covers your wound with a bandage and throws the blanket over you

It’s past midnight and you’re getting sleepy, but you realize you’ve taken up all the space on the bed

Plus, it’d be kind of weird to crash at the place of the man you barely know

“I’ll go then, thanks for the help.” 

He pushes your shoulder and you fall against the pillows

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home?”

“Not like that, kitty.” He circles around to the other side

“Where are you gonna sleep? There’s only one bed.”

“So?” 

Dabi flops onto the mattress and slings one arm around your shoulders, tugging you close— “Go to sleep, kitty.”

Unable to move from the pain and his grip, you have no choice but to snuggle close

Despite his casual demeanor, your heightened sense of hearing amplified the rapid beating of his heart

A smile spreads across your face; this is gonna be great blackmail