#did you type that with ur chest all out head up high?? AND THEN CLICKED ANON 💀💀💀💀💀💀

[getoswhore]

getting my lick back by reporting all of your stuff. this izz going to be so much fun😊

shiver me timbers

[hereforhalstead]

Hungry Eyes

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader 18+

• Requested: Yeeeess by my bestie @halsteadlover who always sets the bar so high and provided me with this.

reader's friend that come to visit her and Jay is jealous but nobody knows about their relationship so he can't even say anything about it and then he corners Reader when they r alone and shows her who she belongs to iykyk kwnejekwnsked i know this is a shitty idea but whit ur writing bestie it'd be ✨ chef's kiss ✨’i

• Warnings: swearing/Daddy kink/smut references

• Summary: Jay gets jealous after an old friend turns up at the district to ask you out for lunch and reminds you who you belong to.

• Words: 4218

• A/N :lysm you’re the best but pls don’t come after me if this disappoints hahah Enjoy🤭

***

You woke up with that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you didn’t like, instantly feeling sick with nerves for no explanation. You tried to start your morning as best and to routine as you could to try and push out the thoughts but nothing worked. 

You made your way into the kitchen to grab some ice out of the freezer for your drink, you found yourself gazing out of the window being transfixed on cars going by. You flinched as you felt a squeeze on your sides, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay’s mischievous smile grinning back at you, a sight that would always put your mind to rest but on this day it wasn’t doing the trick. 

He softly pulled on the round neck of your tshirt, exposing your shoulder to which he placed a light kiss to your skin “Everything alright?” he questioned, still stood behind you as you filled your glass. You nodded in response but you both knew this wasn’t enough for him, you span to exit the kitchen but he stood his ground to block your path.

“You wanna trying lying to me again?” he probed, gently outlining the side of you face with his fingers. You pressed your lips into his cheek but he still wouldn’t budge “Jay, I’m fine” you attempted to reassure but he simply gave a light chuckle in response.

 “Baby, you know I call out people who lie for a job. Right?” You lean your head forward onto his chest and huff “Just one of those days” you mumble into his shirt and he tuts “And you couldn’t tell me that because?”.

You look up at him and roll your eyes “Because doofus, now you’ll be watching my every move when you need to be focusing on yourself” You push your finger into his chest as you speak, he flicks his eyes down onto your hand and then back up to your worried expression “We’ll be fine. Always are, I know how to look out for both of us” he leans in to place a chaste kiss to your lips but you still feel that sinking feeling wasn’t going anywhere fast.

 “How do you always know what to do to make me feel better?” you tease, trying your best to ignore the wave of anxiousness overwhelming your body “It’s just as much of my job as it is to be a detective” he proudly replies and you can’t stop the smile creeping on your face “Smooth” you compliment, earning another toothy grin from your boyfriend 

“Come on you, the quicker we get out of here the quicker we get home”. He slings an arm round your shoulder before stopping to pick up the drink you had previously poured yourself as he calmly reassures “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s gonna be fine”

***

As normal, Jay drops you off in his truck a few roads away from the district. You’d both decided it was best to keep your relationship between yourselves for the time being as god knows word spreads fast within Chicago and Voight would be less than impressed to say the least. 

Seeing how he reacted to Kim and Adam served as a warning of how harsh he can be and implement punishments for the smallest of things. He often eyes the pair of you so you have an inclining he’s caught on but as far as you’re aware you’d gotten away with it so far which seemed a miracle. There’d been a few close encounters, you and Jay getting carried away in the evidence room, one acting out when the other is in danger or the most popular one being when either one of you is hit on and you can’t say a word. 

Jay found this the hardest as Voight encouraged you to use your charm and sarcastic character on suspects, often helping to break their barriers and admit things they didn’t know they were admitting. This came at a cost, you openly flirting with another man in the interview room was now a regular occurrence and to Jay’s dismay he was often sat right by your side as you did so. 

Most of the time you had fun with this as it never took much to get Jay jealous, a simple double take at you had him aggravated within seconds so for you to have taken on the role as ‘Intelligence flirt’ did not sit well with him. You’d considered having words with Voight about it, expressing how it made you uncomfortable but as much as sometimes you didn’t like it, it did often lead to success so you had to put your dignity to one side and do the job at hand. 

It was another one of those days where you were called into the interview room as soon as you walked up the stairs, Jay handing you a paper file as he passes your desk. Just like every morning, acting like you hadn’t been in bed together just a few hours earlier or traipsing round his apartment in nothing but his T-shirt.

“He’s just your type” Kim calls out to you, smirk beaming from her face “and how do you know what my type is?” you sarcastically respond, eyebrow cocked in confidence “Believe me, I know what your type is” she is quick to reply, already back focusing on a pile of paperwork sat in front of her. You narrow your eyes at her and then cast your eyes over to Jay who is still enthralled by the thought of you.

“Will you just get in there and do you thing. We need to nail this bastard” Voight’s rough voice echos out, hurrying you to hang your coat up on the way to the interview room “Good luck” Jay announces with an amused tone “I think you’re the one who needs the luck” you hit back. He bores his eyes down to you as he leans forward to open the door with one hand and allowing you to enter the room first. 

The suspect immediately slumps back in his chair as you slam the thick paper file onto the desk “Think you better sit up and pay attention sunshine, I haven’t got all day” you jest, Jay remaining stern in the seat next to you as he’s ready to play good cop bad cop. “Oh I can tell I’m gonna like you already” his eyes roam about your body but Jay is quick to harshly click in front of the mans face to distract him “Eyes up here big man”. 

You conceal your laugher, not even 2 seconds in and Jay’s pissed off “Why don’t you let her do the talking pretty boy” the suspect flirts and you scoff “You’re already looking at 25 years in jail if you don’t start talking so we’ll get started if you don’t mind” you open the file in efforts to break eye contact with the suspect but Jay was still showing a disgruntled stare over the table “I’m all yours”. 

***

Safe to say the interview didn’t get much better, no matter how much you leaned into him, he wasn’t saying a word. Forcing you to try and go above and beyond with the flirting technique but still nothing. You marched back into the office with Jay, him stuck at your side but staying silent when usually there would be some form of sarcastic comment but today there was nothing.

 “How could you say he was my type, are you blind? He was about 50 with half a mouth of teeth and I can’t imagine the last time he showered” you call out to Kim who laughs “My idea of fun” she contests, handing you a cup of coffee “Hilarious” you comment under your breath as she returns to her desk next to you. 

You were still reeling from the interview, annoyed at yourself for not getting him to break so you could charge him with more but by the sounds of it, it wasn’t his first offence so knew how to play the game and also play you. You scanned the pages in front of you, head in your hands as you sat propped with your elbows on the desk “He was just a dick who knows how to work the system, don’t let it get to you” Jay speaks as he leans on the desk next to you. 

You huff and sink into your chair “Surprised you’re talking to me” you joke as Jay shrugs “Gotta do what you gotta do” he calmly admits, complete change of attitude to his normal tense and quiet self after these interviews but you still knew him well enough to know he was bluffing “Now who’s the one lying” you raise your eyebrows at him with a slight smirk across your face.

He leans down to you to speak but you hear Trudy clear her throat from behind him “Y/N, you got someone down here for you” she bitterly announces, you both turn to look at her as she spins to head back down the stairs “Did they give a name, or?” you ask after her but as per usual she was hardly in a mood to converse “Do I look like a receptionist? No” she tuts “Was cute though” you’re taken back as she adds her little comment and disappears back down the stairs. 

“Well, best get myself down to this hottie then” you stand from your seat, ensuring you graze yourself along Jay as you pass “Don’t wanna keep him waiting” you quietly add so only he can hear. 

He keeps his arms folded in front of his chest and watches you intently as you walk off, feeling his eyes burn into your back as you follow Trudy’s path down to the main area. Slight grin as you enjoyed winding Jay up and as much as he didn’t want to admit it he also got a kick out of it. 

Him watching you think you have the dominance in the relationship truly amused him, all while knowing he could have you pinned up against a wall and struggling to find words within seconds frequently crossed his mind as he sat watching you work opposite him. 

**

You got to the bottom of the stairs only to be met by an empty room, you look over to Trudy who is aimlessly scrolling on the computer and walk over to her desk “Where is he then?” you ask but get no response, instead she simply looks over your shoulder to the room next to the main doors. 

She glimpses back over to you before returning to her work “Always so helpful Trudy, what would I do without you” you mock, tapping the desk before turning to see who had asked after you.

You didn’t even have a chance to get yourself together before he was stood in front of you, your best friend from college who you hadn’t seen in years was stood before you and Trudy was right, he was looking just as cute as he did the last time you see him all those years ago. “There she is! The hot shot detective” he exclaims before engulfing you in his arms. 

It took you by surprise so took you a few seconds before you could grasp what was happening “Kyle? What are you doing here?” you pull back, leaving his arm still resting on your hip as he towered over you “My folks moved to Chicago a few weeks ago so thought I would come visit. Then remembered you worked here so made it all the more easier for me to take the trip” he happily admits as you nudge his shoulder “Still the flirt I see” you tilt you head and he nods “Can’t help it when it comes to you”. 

You come to your senses that you’re still stood in the middle of the open space at the district, Trudy without a doubt ogling at you from her desk and silently judging with her scowl and condescending manner. 

You take a quick sweep of the area to see if anyone else is around but it was just the two of you which made the silence even more awkward. As much as you wanted nothing more than to catch up with Kyle, this was hardly the ideal scenario as you could basically hear a pin drop and knew Trudy was listening in on every word. 

You check your watch and note it was nearly 1pm which led you to the perfect excuse of leaving “Wanna grab some lunch?” he questions to which you quickly agree “Let me just grab my stuff and we can go”.

Just as you turn to head back upstairs you hear Trudy call out from behind you “Chuckles, get Y/N’s bags for her will you. She's being whisked off for lunch on a hot date” whilst still facing away you subtly shake your head and huff “I’m gonna kill her” you joke, Kyle awkwardly laughs along with you which doesn’t help with the glare Jay was sending in your direction. 

“Thanks but I can get them myself, thanks though” you grimace to Trudy as you pass her desk “Won’t be long” you call back to Kyle who takes a seat on the chairs “Just text me if you need a moment before we go!” Jay shoots him a lingering glare, you nudge his shoulder to pull him from his trance with the aggravated scorn to Kyle.

 You place your hand onto the scanner and feel Jay breathing down your neck from how close he is stood behind you “So you’ve got a hot date?” he whispers, so quiet that you’re sure no one else heard “Don’t start” you warn as the door buzzes and loosens to allow you to open it.

“Don’t know what you mean” Jay innocently responds, still hot on your trail as you make your way up “Jay, your jealousy is showing” you tease with a hint of smugness in your voice “I don’t get jealous baby” he takes you off guard with the pet name but you try your best to act unfazed “A lot of lying going on today, isn’t there?”. 

You make your way over to your desk and rummage around in the drawers looking for the purse your usually leave in there with a few bank cards and loose change. “Who’s the hunk then Y/N?” Hailey asks from her desk on the other side of the room “It’s her boyfriend” Jay answers before you even have a chance to respond. You continue looking through your desk, rolling your eyes at his comment but grateful no one can see as you look down.

“He’s a friend from college” you correct him, shooting him a glare to which he sneers. “And he’s taking you to lunch? Lucky you” Kim adds, earning a less than impressed glance from Adam “I’m right here you know” he mocks and you laugh to yourself of the irony of Adam getting jealous when you knew Jay was sat there reeling and no one knew. 

“Wait, isn’t Kyle the one who-?” Kim starts but you widen your eyes her to give her the message to stop “The one who?” Kevin probes, aware that now everyone was in on this would only add to Jay’s annoyance “He wa-” Hailey speaks up “Uh” you interrupt, admiring the joy she had flashed across her face. Adam pats Kevin on the shoulder as he passes “Girl code bro, we’ll never find out”. 

“I didn’t know I was running a gossip circle? Back to it” Voight demands from the doorframe of his office. The team turn back to their work as you give up looking for your purse and decide to head to the lockers to see if you left it in there earlier in the week. 

Once in the hall, alone you run your fingertips over the creases in your forehead. Partly in trying to remember where you last had your purse but also wishing Kyle hadn’t come to the district or atleast gave you some forewarning that we was in town. 

That soon explains the reason for your gut feeling this morning that something wasn’t going to go right, although you were slightly relieved as it wasn’t half as bad as you expected when you first woke up and felt the anxiety swirling in your stomach but still wasn’t ideal. 

You leant your head against your locker before taking a deep breath, anyone would think you were being overdramatic but with the interview the morning where you had truly pushed yourself with the flirting already leaving Jay on the back foot this was not what you had in mind for the rest of the day. 

Normally, a quiet afternoon with the odd doting look and occasional private moment between the pair of you had you back in his good books but that was clearly out of the window and now with this he was just feeling worse. 

You searched in your locker but still no sign, you pulled out your phone to text Kyle and was shocked you still had his number after all these years. You clicked away on your phone before a presence in front of you makes you flinch. 

You look up to see Jay leaning with one arm on the locker and the other holding your purse “You can text your boyfriend to say your other boyfriend found your purse” he dangles the purse in front of you but snatches it back when you go to grab it “Jay, leave it alone” you taunt but he simply drops your purse on the bench behind you with a swift motion and turns to head out. 

Slightly shocked you don’t get more of a reaction out of him leaves you wanting more, a twisted affect he had on you when he left you craving him if he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“You don’t want me to introduce the pair of you then?” you call out, causing him to stop in his tracks on route to the door. You heart instantly picks up as you know you’ve got him “Do what you want” he spits out, still with his back to you. You make your way over to him and run your fingertip up and down his spine, causing him to shiver under your touch.

 “Someone in a mood?” you innocently ask, knowing full well what you’re letting yourself in for but using it as more motivation to keep going. He hangs his head in laughter and takes a moment before he inhales through his flared nostrils, even facing away from you you can see the bitter look on his face as he bites the inside of his lip in frustration. 

“Why don’t you just go and have a nice little lunch with your boyfriend and we’ll speak about this at home later” his calmness still confuses you and didn’t satisfy your craving and as much as you knew you shouldn’t provoke him you can’t help but continue to do so.

“You don’t Atleast want to know who he is? You could be letting me go to lunch with a murderer for all you know” you joke but he is not amused, not in the slightest. He deeply huffs which, to his frustration you know is a good sign you were getting what you wanted “No Y/N. I don’t want to know who the fuck he is” he finally bursts, turning in his spot and now staring down on you.

“I don’t give a shit who he is, I don’t give a shit what you’ve done together” the way his chest rises and falls in his passion truly awakes something within you and you no longer care how quick you feel overpowered by him.

“That’s not very kind” you respond, innocent tone paired with your eyelashes fluttering as you look up at Jay’s rage filled face.

“Kind? I don’t care about kind when it comes to other men flirting with my girl, baby” he starts taking steps towards you, forcing you to walk back under his demand. 

Your back soon hits the bank of lockers with a thud, his eyes filled his hunger as he rests his arm to the side of your head and leans into you “He was only my first fuck, no big deal” you mumble but his spiteful chuckle tells you he heard it loud and clear, slightly regretting your honesty when you’re truly under his thumb and not getting out of his hold anytime soon.

“Say that again” he taunts, hand gripped onto your waist and getting tighter with each heavy breath. You don’t say a word as you know nothing will help what you’ve just said, he leaves it a moment before he continues. 

“No?” He questions as you remain standing in silence, you shake your head to see the exasperation flashing across his face. “Why did you even tell me that?” He further asks and in all honesty you begin to question that yourself, you just knew it would be the worst thing you could admit and therefore it had to be done.

“Oh, I know why” he drops his head as he smiles to himself, hand running along his jawline as a smug smile makes its way onto his face. Not a second later his attention is back on you with the hunger in his eyes that you now desperately longed for.

“You want me to remind the name that I know you’re wishing you could moan right now” he teases as he pushes himself onto you further “straight up against these lockers, with my hand over your mouth to quieten them desperate pleas”. His eyes search your face for any form of resistance as he darts his knee inbetween your legs to separate them “Tell me I’m wrong baby?”.

You feel your body melt under his slightest touch, his words making you crumble into his grasp on you. With your mind no longer on Kyle or the fact you were at your place of work with the chance of getting caught at any moment “Your team just on the other side of that wall not having a single clue what’s going on”. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, his lips finding their way to your collarbone and lightly nipping at the skin.

“My girl wants me to fuck her so hard that she can’t even walk out of this room without me helping her” he proceeds to run his lips along your jawline, leaving lingering kisses as he goes “Not so mouthy now, hm?” He grasps at your hip to straighten you from your slumped position, feeling your legs turn to jelly as you yearn for his dominant touch “Use your words, baby”.

He catches you off guard with a deep and hungry kiss as his lips crash into yours, using his hand on the small of your back to steady you as you stumble from the sudden harshness. As you leaned into his desires, you wanted to use the tiniest bit of power you have left to well and truly push him over the edge. Something you knew that would have you playing this moment over in your head for weeks on end, him falling at your mercy and pushing him over the edge “Yes daddy”.

His eyes widen, something he had only heard you say a few times in the past but only after being encouraged at the height of passion and never on your own accord. The fingers digging into your hips told you all you needed to know, whether he liked to admit it, you’d won this hands down.

You run your to tongue over your bottom lip, now slightly swollen from the rough contact. His eyes follow your movement, the darkness in his eyes turning more intense as every second went by “oh baby” he chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to lift you up and secure yourself to him with your legs wrapped round him and your back pushed up against the lockers “you have no idea what you’ve just let yourself in for”.

****

Inbox and requests always open👀 am working through my current requests and one will be up in a few days💃🏼

[burnedbyshoto]

hawks_littledove.mp3

— You’re an avid listener to NSFW ASMR artist Hawks. It’s just your luck that he’s offered to have phone sex with you.

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pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, slight abuse of power/influence, phone sex, masturbation, degradation, praise, nsfw asmr artist!hawks

word count: 5,018

a/n: my keyboard is broken and i could actually cry. but hey, hawks do be sexy even tho I would never trust him with my life. also LOL this might be a call out to a lot of us, do not be offended or I will cry.

kinktober day 14 main kink: phone sex | kinktober masterlist

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Fantasizing about being in relationships with fictional characters was entirely healthy and normal.

That was something you believed to the core. It was fictional; thus, no one but you were to be hurt at the end of the day. The character, being fake, could never have an opinion because you must be real in order to have an opinion. So when you were between boyfriends, you discovered a new anime, and before you could stop yourself, you fell hard for a character.

It started as a mild obsession.

You had looked up fanart via google images, your heart warming when you saw the plethora of different fanart. The anime itself had been in circulation for a few years now, the manga for much longer, so the content was endless. Then google images wasn’t enough, and you began crossing into Twitter and Tumblr.

The fanart became better, more engrossing, and definitely much more NSFW. And then, one night during your endless rabbit hole down Tumblr after your daily search on Twitter, you stilled when seeing a new type of content.

⇒ grey fullbuster x reader

The obsession grew worse.

So much so that you had followed nearly five hundred self insert writers and artists on Tumblr, and maybe seven hundred artists, meta writers, and thread makers on twitter. But three months into consuming all the content you could find, you came across a new name that made you tilt your head.

Hawks Fierce Wings

It was a name that was being repeated and heavily talked about on both sites. It was an ASMR artist, apparently, and you frowned at the thought. You didn’t have anything against ASMR videos, but you weren’t exactly sure how to handle an anime ASMR artist. Were they cosplaying while making all those weird ASMR sounds? You really didn’t have any idea, but due to the immense boredom of your lazy day in, you decided to hell with it and tried out his most popular video.

It was simply entitled: Hawks is Jealous.

Did you have any idea as to who Hawks was? God, no, you didn’t. But if it was just some random cosplay he was going to do, you didn’t think it was going to matter. So as the only slightly educated ASMR listener, you never truly became invested when it was a thing; you slipped on your earbuds and pressed play.

The introduction screen faded into an illustrated picture of a slightly handsome man, and some calming yet tense music played in the background. You shifted, eyebrows drew as you waited for the ASMR session to begin, and when it did, you were not ready.

“I saw you walking around with that asshole today,” a voice practically growled in your ear, and you froze.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no!

For almost an entire hour, you sat glued to your sofa, your fingers digging into your lap as the jealous, spiteful words of this man named Hawks poured bitterly in your ear. His words were a near aggravated assault on you and definitely something you were beyond uncomfortable hearing from a stranger, but there was something about his voice that kept you there. Maybe it was the tenor of his tone or the way there was this sly, cunning scent to his words that he seemed to hide deep within his throat, but there was something that kept you there.

The second the passionate, heated kissing noises and heavy moans began to spill from his lips, you screeched, slamming your laptop closed as your cheeks pounded heavily.

Oh my god?!

It took a bit, but eventually, you were able to finish the audio and quickly figured out why he was an NSFW artist. You had never, ever heard a man eat a pussy fake or real as eagerly or vigorously as he did. Your hands were gripping the pants of your leggings, and your chest heaved.

Oh, motherfucking shit.

Finding out there were almost seventy other videos for you to still experience sent you scrambling for more, and eventually, you had to confess you were obsessed. Despite the anime fandoms you had discovered him for, Hawks seemed to be more famous for the content he created as himself. His real name was unknown by the looks of it, and he was only addressed as Hawks by his audience, something you caught on to quickly. So only after creating a new profile for his Youtube account, you made quick work of liking and commenting on every single of his already published seventy-eight nearly one hour and thirty-minute videos. 

Each one was different.

Each one filled with various roadmaps on how Hawks' scenarios would play out for you — the listener. When he used his own persona, he called the listener his little dove or his chicken nugget, sometimes his KFC thigh, or his shish kabob. 

You were glad at the very least he didn’t call you by any of those nicknames when pretending to fuck you at a speed only a “porn-is-my-only-education-on-porn” virgin teenage boy. You knew it wasn’t ideal, usually, but for some reason, it just worked. You commented on everything, read his summaries and thoughts on each video. Eventually, when you found yourself on his final, most recent video, you were ready to go a step further.

The Patreon app on your phone seemed jarringly out of place as you opened the app and subscribed yourself to Hawks' highest tiered option for the price of twenty USD.

And when you got your access to his page, you were immersed in more heavier, better content.

It was a goldmine in a sea of fools gold, and you absolutely went insane.

You weren’t sure if you were insane, needy, or just straight-up idiotic for scrolling to the very first Patreon post and indulging in the content Hawks created. 

There was a stark difference between the warnings alone between the Youtube videos and the Patreon posts. While the porn was readily accessible on Youtube, the kinkiest thing that ever happened in a video was a slight implication that Hawks had left the listener on a vibrator and fuckmachine as he went to go talk to the visiting neighbors.

It was a slight, tiny zone out and miss a detail, but one you had clung onto like an obsessed psycho and even commented on in your comment on the post. Of course, Hawks hadn’t responded, not that you had ever expected him to because all things considered, a video that was eight months old and hadn’t done that well, to begin with, didn’t seem like anything he would remember: notifications and all. 

But Patreon? Oh good, sweet, ravishing Patreon.

The very first video was of the following:

Stepbrother!Hawks fucks Stepsister!Listener in the stairwell during Christmas Dinner.

After praying and swearing to all the deities of the world that you were merely a person with a voice kink for this man and not, in fact, a perverted pseudo-incest worshiper, you clicked on it and began. It was downright sinful.

There were active voices whispered in the background as Hawks laughed about how fucking slutty you were for letting your brother fuck you like this. In the hallway, like a dog, where anyone in your joint family could walk out into. He laughed that you probably wanted it, how your wet ass pussy was greedily sucking him in, so how could you even begin to deny your lust for your brother.

You had to take a break five times during that audio.

Eventually, you do end up catching up.

Each video he had ever posted to your disposal, and most likely due to the different tier levels, you always commented on the videos. Even if it made you feel awkward for lusting over things months old, even if there were no other comments on the videos, which was much more common than you thought, you always commented and liked. It wasn’t anything ever crazy, you had seen the rarest comments bring a whole essay of analysis on why they loved it or the hating words, but you kept it simple.

Just something to keep Hawks spirits high without draining you even further of energy.

A simple: holy shit, that was hot as fucking hell!!!! you never disappoint me!!!

You never expected anything out of it; as a matter of fact, you had merely thought that you were doing the least by merely appreciating his creations when, one night, a few hours after you had gotten home. Your phone chimed with an alert.

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise; you hadn’t realized there was going to be a new release after he had just updated four days ago. Still, you popped in your earbuds and began the audio with a simple title.

i fuk ur stupid lil pus until u cri

He wasn’t precisely putting much effort into his titles these days, but his tags were definitely accurate and entirely explicit in what was to come. And in this newest video, the prominent tag was degradation.

You weren’t entirely into degradation, but still, you did what you had to do because you weren’t turned off by it. With the beginning sounds of the music playing in the background, you warped into the situation Hawks carefully carved.

But, oh?

Your face simmered with heat as Hawks dirty words dripped from the earbuds, the wet, squelching noise of your cunt and throat being fucked like some inanimate object made you soak through your panties as his disparaging words burned against your spine like a hot brand. After the thirty-minute audio was finished. Your body trembling with the aftershocks of an orgasm that had come despite the lack of actual stimulation of your clit, and you panted on your bed.

Opening your phone once again, you quickly liked the new audio and typed out your comment.

listen, i know i always comment about how fucking hot this shit is, but i have /never/ fucking soaked through my panties… you just did that and i expect a full refund for these panties 💦

You pressed send and, without so much of a second thought, continued your night. You had dinner, talked with friends, and ended the night curled back on the couch with a wine glass in your hand and a simple sit-com playing on the TV. The familiar sound of the Patreon alert rang in your ear, and you frowned, confused.

Grabbing your phone, you opened up the device and nearly shrieked at the sight of the information the notification that said:

Hawks F.W.: lets see those panties before i refund anything

A chill ran down your spine as you quickly put together the indications of this message, and you smirked, despite your quivering hands. 

Me: I have a seven inch dick requirement before seeing any of the goods — yes, that includes my panties

And from that very moment, you began a strange arrangement between you and the NSFW ASMR artist Hawks.

.

..

.

Working was the worst part of your life, you would say.

At work, you would sit in your small 4x4 cubicle, your shelves stacked with plenty of papers and items you needed, not to mention the computer that took up the majority of your desk. You weren’t quite sure what your job here was, you sort of sat at your desk and did meaningless assignments when assigned, but you did nothing for the most part. 

Before becoming an active Hawks stan, you would spend your time doing nothing playing video games. You had somehow managed to install a VPN onto your hard drive so that your employers wouldn’t be able to see what was on your screen outside of the home screen. They couldn’t trace what you did all day, but they could care less, given you got all your work completed on time and done in an over exceptional way.

But lately, since you had dropped into this… engrossed whore like relationship with Hawks, things changed. 

To be honest, it still shocks you to no end when he tells you that he had always been aware of you. Well, with your consistent, ever appearing comments on his posts and overall enthusiasm for everything he posted, it was hard to not be aware. The mental image of your soaked through panties after a long day at his own work had sent him over the edge, and he finally messaged you.

Through the DM’s in Patreon, the two of you grew to become quite the friends with benefits. He would send you countless personalized audio files because you had quickly confessed to your voice kink and how his voice sent your stomach into hormonal knots. In return, you’d send the picture of an occasional soaked panty, and if he was lucky, an audio clip of your pathetic whines back to his audios.

You couldn’t complain about this arrangement.

But as the number of his patrons doubled, and he wanted to entice his subscribers with paying him even more money, Hawks began to offer a bimonthly personalized five minute audios for his $20 tier. The fans poured into that spot, and Hawks and proudly sent you the new number of adoring fans he was getting. On account of growing platforms such as Tiktok, the number of new listeners he got was nearly exponential, as he currently passed one million followers last week. 

The cheeky bastard was also making enough money to stop working his regular work hours anymore. Choosing to transition slowly into his Patreon career while recording.

Hawks, however, seemed to have other ideas for your eventual personalized voice audio.

Hawks had simply asked if, by any chance, you were going to be working tomorrow the night before. Groaning loudly in recognition of your work schedule, you had texted him back that you were going to be working. Snidely including the fact that you weren’t rich like him, you needed the tedious old nine to five job.

Hawks: how utterly boring anyway u can b free around 2?

Me: Eh… probably not. Busy girl w busy schedule, ill be back from lunch so no break Why?

Hawks: well, u knw tht uve been amzing & th bst follower so i wanted 2 give u smthing better then the personalized audio

Me: Oh? Well, what is it?’

Hawks: pick up tmrw n find out

He had changed the subject immediately afterward by dodging all of your questions with ease. So you dropped it, and the two of you resumed a night of flirting. But now, sitting in your small cubicle, your eyes flashing to the clock that read 1:57 p.m., sweat began to build on your palm.

You peered down to your phone as you waited for something, anything from Hawks to show up. The fucker was too cheeky, evasive, and quick for his own good. You felt like pouting as you glared at the phone, waiting for the screen to light up.

And you stilled when finally, at precisely 1:59 p.m., your phone gleamed with light. You couldn’t abandon your computer mouse quicker than you did as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and reading the message from Hawks.

Hawks: do u have earbuds?

Me: Yes?

Hawks: good put them on n pick up

The moment you had read the first message, you were already pulling out your earbuds, synching them up to your phone, and placing them into your ear. But your jaw dropped when, for the first time, the call feature highlighted onto the screen, the time immediately changing to that of 2:00 p.m. The decline or accept button had never looked as daunting as it did right now.

Despite the call trying to go through, you still saw his follow up.

Hawks: if u dont pick up u wont get shit

[Accept]

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as both fear, apprehension, and excitement boiled through your veins, the hammering blood pounding in your ears as you waited for some sort of noise on the opposite side of the line.

“Little dove?” Hawks' voices filled your ears, and despite yourself, you smiled softly. The naturalness of his voice sends warm thumps down your spine.

“Hi, Hawks,” you whisper breathlessly, your head already checking to make sure your neighboring cubicle mates didn’t try to look over the divisions to stare at you. For the most part, the office building was quiet except for the phone calls, the clanking of computer keys, and the monotonous music playing softly on the speaker's head. 

“Whatcha doing?” he drawled, and you felt your skin heat up when you heard the all too familiar sound of his shoes hitting the top of his desk, the soft whine of his chair as he leaned back onto it. “Are you really at work?”

“What do you mean, am I really at work?” you squeaked, half horrified at the way the lazy, warm heat of lust was infiltrating your body at the sound of his voice, and the annoyance that he thought you had been lying? “Of course I am; it’s two p.m. on a Wednesday!”

“Ah, so little dove-chan is a raging pervert who engages in phone sex to bypass her long hours at work?” Hawks sighed his tone that of understanding and dismissal. You splutter. “You never fail to surprise me.”

“I do not do… that!” you stammer, your face feeling like hot cinders, your fingers and eyes double-checking to make sure that the audio was going to your earbuds and your earbuds only. You also couldn’t help the way your eyes swept around you, trying to make sure you hadn’t accidentally invited unwanted attention. “I said I was busy!”

“But, you picked up my call?”

“You said, or else!”

“Mmm, okay, I think I see,” Hawks tutted, and although you had never seen what you supposed to be his handsome face, you could imagine a lazy, toothy smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind using your little cubicle to talk you into fucking yourself good for me.”

Your jaw drops.

It hits the desk, and the muffled shriek of utter humiliation is only silenced because you bit onto your tongue like a rabid animal.

“Aw, you sound so excited for me already, little dove. I bet you want to know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you? I just know that I’m going to make you feel so... good…”

“Hawks!” you plea in a hushed whisper, your heart hammering where you sat frozen like a deer in headlights. Sure, you had definitely played his audios before to pass the time, but never before in your existence had you had actual phone sex. This was riskier than just listening to his audios; his audios always had a pattern, a way to escape from the madness of his voice when people were closer than you’d like. But this? No, there was no escape. “I’m at work! I c-can’t!”

“But, fuck, I want you so bad,” Hawks' voice dipped into a gravely tone, his voice just perfectly scratchy enough that your shoulders trembled in unspoken, untouched want. “I want to feel your cunt around my cock, baby, your pussy is so hot and I want to be the fucking lucky bastard that gets to fuck you through your bed.”

“O-Oh my god…”

“I’ve been thinking of what your tits look like,” Hawks continues on, his voice continuing in the style you liked the most. It was raw, heavy, and deep. No character impersonations, just him, pure Hawks. “I hope they bounce the way they do when I imagine you riding me. I want to see you moan when I kiss the underside of your tit, I want to see your face when you realize that you’re my girl, nobody's else's, but mine.”

Heat floods your panties at his words, your shallow breaths making him chuckle on the other end. 

“You’d be so lucky to be just mine, wouldn’t you, little dove?” Hawks snaps, his voice demanding a response, and you heave.

You look around, no one is near, and you croak out: “I’d be so lucky.”

“Louder.”

“I’d be so lucky.”

“Mm, there we go,” Hawks laughs, and your ears prickle for any noise that may indicate that someone was listening in. “What? Are you getting nervous that your needy ass will be heard by your coworkers right now? Answer me.”

“Mhmm,” you hum loudly, your cunt pulsing with more incredible heat and your hands shaking with a slight fear of being caught.

“Aww, don’t worry, little dove. I’m sure your boss will understand that you’re my newest fucktoy and will let me continue. Maybe they’ll want to join in?”

You whimper softly, shifting in your seat at that thought. You didn’t really want your boss coming anywhere near you, he was old and gross for one, and nothing could take the place of this beautiful man's voice in your ear right now.

“Oh, was that a no? You don’t want other people fucking you, do you, y/n? I bet you only want to have my cock in your tight little pussy, bet you want to watch the way that greedy little thing sucks me in, begging for my seed. Would you want me to cum deep inside you? You would like that little dove; you’d like to be full of my cum.”

“H-Hawks,” you keen as quietly as you can, your hips shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your heart hammering in your throat. The pressing heat in your cunt is growing, your panties growing with wet slick as Hawks' voice whispers down your ear, filling every empty and void space in your brain until you were having trouble focusing on the very much public spot you were in.

Hawks let out a soft, guttural moan, and you froze, face entirely combusting into an inferno as the familiar slick slapping of his fapping cock filled your ear. Immediately, you forgot everything.

“A-Are you—?!” you splutter, unable to find the words or the energy to come up with a way to ask if he was masturbating right now. Your eyes spun, your mind in a complete haze as soft, raunchy moans spilled from his lips, striking against your nerves and soul with each successive sound.

“I’m only trying to help you out here, dove,” Hawks growled, undoubtedly in effect to a rather loud smack of his fist colliding with his thrusting hip. “You’re the little office slut who picked up a phone call to entice in phone sex. I bet you knew exactly what I was going to do, and your pathetic, needy whore self caved to my instructions.”

Your fingers curled into the armrest of your chair.

“I bet this makes your boring ass job tolerable, the perfect distraction to a shit job, then imagining a few minutes of fucking yourself against my hard cock.”

“That’s not true!”

“No?” Hawks laughed, not believing you any more than you did. “So you wouldn’t hate it if I showed up and fucked you into the wall of your cubicle? You wouldn’t mind if I claimed your sweet-smelling pussy against your desk for everyone to hear? I know you can scream like a bitch in heat. I know that pretty little cunt of yours would milk my cock dry. Oh, I just know you would look so fucking sexy with your back arched, eyes closed, and you begging for hours just to cum. You wouldn’t cum without my permission, right?”

You gasped, heart fluttering, hammering in your chest as you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“I need a verbal answer, little dove.”

The heat in your core was blistering, your thighs shaking with your unadulterated lust and need as you ground into the cushion of your chair. All logic and moral long gone as he snarled and moaned your name in your ear, the slick of his fapping cock echoing like a great bell in your ear. You wanted to hear him cum, wanted to listen to the pithering sound of his echoing moans as he spilled the contents of his balls onto his hand — and how you wished it was your womb.

“I won’t cum w-without your permission!” you whispered, your skin shivering with your fear of being caught. 

“God, you sound like such a dirty fucking bitch. I bet your pussy is fucking soaked already. Bet you really want to run that slutty embarrassed finger against your clit but don’t want to be caught by your perverted coworkers,” Hawks hissed, his breaths turning into steady, heavy hot pants. You mewl softly, confirming his spoken thoughts, and he huffs out a laugh. “How many fingers do you normally shove up that pretty cunt of yours, little dove?”

“T-Three!” you gasp, your forehead pressing to the cool of your desk, your eyes glazed over and looking at the entrance of your cubicle, fervently wishing that no one tries to check on you as you grind against your stable chair. “O-Only three fit.”

“Fuck, you really do have a tight cunt, don’t you,” Hawks snaps, the wet sounds of his fisting hand around his cock a beautiful melody in your ear that makes you whine at the back of your throat. “Bet you can’t even fit cocks up your cunt without lube, huh. You gotta stay on top, or else you’ll get hurt with how thick and long my cock will be up that baby pussy of yours.”

“H-Hawks!” you grit out, the friction of grinding on the seat no longer working.

“Go to the bathroom, now,” Hawks commands, the small gasps on his voice from his approaching orgasm more than enough ammo for you to do as told.

You sprint to the bathroom, the slick of your cunt hot, and evident to you as you sped to the bathroom. Your phone clenched in your hand as you locked the door behind you, glad the room was empty. Barely managing to get yourself into the stall, the toilet paper placed on the seat as you raised your legs up, already prepared. The skirt you wore was bunched above your ass, and the panties you wore, stretching out around your knees.

“Sounds like you’re ready to start fucking that pussy for me,” Hawks laughs, but there's no humor, just bite. “Put in three fingers, now.”

Without even arguing or caring, three fingers slip into your cunt, and you cry at the feeling of your fingers completely stretching you out. The smell of sex and slick filling your nose as your fingers slick up, fucking your tight cunt as you moan louder and louder for Hawks. 

“God, your fucking pussy is so fucking wet, I can hear it from here!” Hawks moans, the frantic sound of his drilling hips gaining speed and momentum. 

“I want it to be you!” you moan, your face burning in your humiliation. “I want it to be you fucking my pussy, claiming me in this bathroom. I need you, Hawks, I want your cock so badly!”

“Fuck,” Hawks gasps, something tumbling in the background. “Such sweet words for a fucking dirty ass cumslut,” he growls, and your legs shake, your clit and cunt thrumming with your increasing arousal and pit of tightness in your core. 

“HAWKS, FUCK!” you sob as your hips try to start a merciless speed against your fingers, your body trying to match the speed in which Hawks was fucking his own hand.

“Keep screaming my name, whore.” Hawks gasps, his noises of pleasure beginning to grow louder and louder, your eyes crossing in satisfaction. “Screaming my name like the fucking slutty mess you are. All this shit just to get me to fuck you? God, you’re so fucking pathetic y/n. Begging for me, begging for more? I think you’re my favorite little dove ever, gonna make you mine whenever I get to fuck that pussy.”

“Hawks!” you wail his name again, your arms and pussy throbbing with the energy it takes to keep up with his inhumane speeds. Your vision seeing stars as you tremble more and more, your legs slipping from the toilet seat, yet. “I am your whore, your little dove. Please let me come, please! You fuck me so well, fucking hell, please, I needa cum, I needa cum!”

“Cum with me,” he snaps, his voice so deep, so dangerously smooth. It was precisely what you needed, the voice kink you had for his tenor exactly fulfilled entirely with that simple, last command. And just like that, your jaw slackens, head slamming backward, and pleasurable waves crash through you.

Your fingers still rock at your clit, and your vice gripped walls, your toes curling within your shoes as you soundlessly scream. Hawks, on the other end, is practically snarling, voice deep and altogether dangerous as grunt after grunt leaves him, and you can imagine the milk-white cum splattered all over his chest and hand. A beautiful, perfect sight that you wish you could see for yourself.

Exhaustion settles in your bones as you sit on the toilet, still entirely exhausted as you heave for air. 

“I think that was the best fucking orgasm I ever had,” you mumble, your eyes closed, not ready to stand up and move. “Thank you.”

“I’m good at what I… at what I do,” Hawks stumbles, husky exhaustion ringing in his own voice. “Now, little dove, finish up work, and I promise there’ll be a surprise waiting for you when you’re done.”

Not entirely agreeing, but not disagreeing with his command to go finish you last… two and a half hours at work, you begrudgingly said goodbye to Hawks before washing your hands and exiting the bathroom.

When five o’clock came, you watched as your phone screen lit up, and your face flushed as you read the DM from Hawks.

Hawks: this is my fav audio now ↳ hawks_littledove.mp3 but you surprised me today, so in case u ever want to have more fun sometime  call me 03-9183-2495 ;)

[mingiswow]

Perfection | Jung Wheein

Pairing: Wheein x afab!reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: + 700

Warnings: fingering, mirror sex, Wheein being praised (as she should), unhealthy amount use of the word “god”, not proofread. 

Songs I listened to while writing: Slow Love - Tender; Keep me high - Adeline; Gimme - Banks, I’m your - Tommy Genesis; Quick musical doodles - Two Feet; Erode - Tender; Outside - Tender; Girl - The Internet feat. KAYTRANADA

⚠ If you’re under the age of 18 and/or don’t feel comfortable reading that type of content, I have a lot of other content here.

Request: hiiii im unsure if you take requests for mamamoo, but could you possibly write a smut shot with wheein x fem!red (or no gender if ur more comfy with that) the reader is with wheein in front of the practice room mirror and just praising wheein about her body

Thank you the sweet anon for the request. Yes, I do write for girl groups. Hope you enjoy :)

The cold wind of the Korean winter was hitting the windows, making them fog in contrast with the warmth of bodies inside the small practice room. 

It was supposed to be just another practice day where she went to the company, talked with her groupmates, discussed the comeback concept, trained, and by mid-afternoon, you would appear with food and coffee for your girlfriend and the other three.

But this day you decided to stay and watch them, which led to the situation you were in right now: sat on the ground of the room, in front of the many mirrors, Wheein sat between your legs with her own spread wide, clothes long gone. Her back glued to your chest, head thrown back on your shoulder while soft whimpers left her lips. 

“You looked so good dancing today, baby” you whispered in her ear, one of your hands playing with her already swollen clit and the other holding her left boob, pinching lightly the nipple. “I couldn’t resist you. Your body is just so pretty” a low moan left her lips when you slipped your fingers past her labia.

“P-please”

“Please what, baby?” she kept wiggling her body, trying to get you where she wanted. “Relax, babe, I’m going to make you feel good. But first I want you to look at yourself in the mirror” you left her boob and pulled her chin down, making her face the mirror, eyes struggling to open. She was already fucked out and you had barely touched her. “Look at yourself, Innie. Look at your body in the mirror. Can you see what I see?” she nodded eagerly, biting her lower lip, your gaze burning.

“You are so beautiful” you left a soft peck on her shoulder. “So hot” another one. “So delicious” this time you left a kiss on her neck, a soft whimper leaving her throat. “I can’t even believe all of this is just for me. Just I can kiss, touch, and fuck this monument that is your body” you slowly slipped your index finger inside her, a loud moan escaping her mouth. She was past worked up, she just needed release. “Your body is a work of art. A piece of the finest Marmor carved to perfection”

“God, Y/N. More… please” her hands grabbed your legs, nails digging into your sweatpants and skin. You smiled and inserted another finger. A whispered thank you coming out of her mouth, mixing with the moans. “Keep looking at yourself, baby. Look at how sexy you are. Look at how your pussy hungrily devours my fingers. God! You are so perfect. And just for me!” you finally pulled her to kiss your lips, the act messy, desperate, hot.

Your right hand kept fingering her, adding the third finger, and your left one went to her clit, playing with the little bud in circular motions. “Do you wanna come, babe?” you asked looking at her fucked out state in the mirror, her eyes meeting yours in the reflection and the image was like drugs to your brain; her eyes were semi-closed, glossy, a single tear was threatening to fall out from the outer corner. Her lips open, dried out and peeling from the excessive biting. Her neck already blossoming with the purple of the hickeys you gave her earlier. 

At that moment you needed anything else but that image to you. Wheein and beautiful body responding perfectly from your touches. You wished your eyes could take pictures.

“Y/N” the name felt like music to your ears and you knew she was about to release. “Let it go, Innie” you whispered in her ear.

Just like clicking on a button, she exploded, moaning louder, risking you both to get caught but in all honesty, you couldn’t care less. You felt her velvety walls closing around your fingers and you kept moving, helping her ride her orgasm. 

The singer left a little whimper when you took her fingers out of her, feeling empty, and took them to your mouth, licking them clean. “You always taste so sweet for me” the blood rose to her cheeks, the little blush getting mixed with the redness of the exhaustion of the previous actions. “How about I return you the favor?” she smirked, getting the same fingers and sucking them again.

“Have I already told you are perfect?” she nodded to your words, pecking your lips. “Let’s go home first, I rather finish this in the comforts of our bed” the woman quickly got up, almost tripping in the process, to get dressed up, making you wonder for the billionth time in your relationship how did you get so lucky?

Requests are open 

[planetsano]

push and pull.

prompt: bakugou has been neglecting the reader because of work. she can't handle that because all she wants is love and attention.

warning(s): ceo!au, major sugar daddy vibes, aged up, hurt/comfort, f!reader, softie baku at the end.

pairing(s): bakugou katsuki x reader

You definitely felt like a spoiled brat. Walking around the Gucci store with a pout displayed on your glossed lips and nose held high like nothing in the vicinity was even close to being decent enough for you. Heels clicking lightly against the marbled flooring as you wandered around. This was such a drag. Your manicured finger lazily traced a handbag on a display table, it was probably worth someone's salary but you weren't interested. Your eyes were locked on the handsome blonde man pacing back and forth outside the big glass windows of the store. He was angrily speaking into the phone stopping ever so often to insult whoever was on the receiving end.

That— that stupid jerk is Bakugou Katsuki, your boyfriend, and he pinky promised to spend the day with you uninterrupted. Meaning no work calls, no emails, no boring paperwork— just you and him spending time together. He even promised to buy you that new handbag and the matching shoes you’ve been absolutely dying for but here you were in your current situation.

Recently, Bakugou has been incredibly busy with work but you couldn't exactly blame him. He was the CEO of a very successful multi-billion dollar company. But these  past few weeks felt like you could never catch him not answering a business call or typing some boring email. Attempting to get one kiss from him always led you to be met with a dismissive wave of the hand as he answered the call. You knew it wasn't wise to bother him any further because he did have a temper. You’ve seen countless people on the receiving end of his rage and you didn't want to be met with it. Though it was sexy at times, you never liked upsetting him so you just left him alone. Always feeling deflated and discouraged as you opened up a tub of your favorite ice cream. Stress eating. This happened on multiple instances over the course of nearly a month. Quite frankly, you felt unwanted and it was driving you mad.

Walking around this store, there were so many beautiful and luxurious things, but your heart wasn't in it. Shopping wasn't much fun without his hand in yours giving you his opinions about how a dress or shoes would look on you, helping you zip up your dresses and sneaking naughty makeout sessions in the dressing room. Don't worry, you knew you looked pathetic. All pouty and woe as me. My rich boyfriend isn't giving me attention, life is so tough… you could laugh at yourself right now.

You missed him a lot but you were understanding… as understanding as you could be. You wondered if it was selfish to feel this nasty feeling pooling in your chest and stomach. Was it selfish to feel.. neglected? Was it selfish to want to have him all to yourself for just a day?

Was he.. losing interest in you? Was there someone else? Surely work couldn't take up that much of his time.. Did you upset him recently and didn't realize? Feelings of anxiety and nausea started to bubble up within you.. You didn't feel well at all and started to get sick to your stomach the more you got caught up in your thoughts. You wanted to leave. Now.

You hastily exited the store to find Bakugou. It looked like he was just about to come back in to find you, but you stopped him in his tracks. Almost immediately he noticed how drained you looked. Like there was something bothering you. He thought maybe some had said something rude to you but before he could react you spoke.

“Baby, can we go home? I don't feel good..” You looked up at him with a frown, your dainty hand resting on his chest.

The car ride back was quiet. Bakugou noticed your sudden change in demeanor causing him to take more than a couple glances at you in the passenger seat. Usually you'd be so bright and talkative, ushering him to sing along to whatever shitty song you had playing but you were radio silent. Maybe you actually didn't feel good? He would make ure to have his assistant buy you some medicine.

Men are so clueless..

“You ready?”

Your eyes averted their attention from your reflection to the handsome blonde casually adjusting his cufflinks behind you. He looked absolutely stunning standing there in an all black suit accompanied with a red tie. It not only complimented his eyes beautifully, but it matched your sparkly red gown as well. It almost pissed you off how he could be doing the bare minimum and still manage to look that good. But now wasn't the time to oogle. You came up with the conclusion that if he wanted to neglect you then you’d give him a dose of his own medicine. You ignored his presence and picked up your favorite highlighter and a brush, dusting your collarbones lightly to make them pop.

Bakugou walked a few steps closer and you continued to focus on your reflection in the mirror. He leaned over to plant a single kiss on the end of your shoulder, then made a trail of light and soft kisses along your shoulder blade, to the base of your neck and finally to that sensitive part of skin just below your earlobe. It took everything in you, plus more not to give in to his affections, but you desperately wanted to melt under him. You were so incredibly touch starved, especially these days. You missed him, but at the same time you were so upset with him. You couldn't just give in the moment he realizes you exist again. Fuck him. You were supposed to be angry. Not needy.

“You look fuckin’ amazing..” His voice was deep as he whispered into your ear. You closed your eyes tightly and sighed deeply, quickly getting up from your vanity stool and brushed past him, not even looking in his direction. You didn't get far before Bakugou grabbed your wrist and pulled back towards him fully closing the gap between you two and secured an arm around your waist making sure you weren't going anywhere.

God, you could feel him staring a hole into your head as you looked off to the side avoiding eye contact at all costs. You just couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You’d break.

Bakugou grabbed your face with his free hand forcing you to look at him, temporarily squishing your cheeks and making your lips go into a kissable pout.  His harsh crimson gaze was locked onto your doe like eyes making you feel incredibly vulnerable and shy. You hated the power he had over you. Something as simple as eye contact making your ears and cheeks flare up in the color red. The thoughts and emotions from earlier coming back all at once threatening to make you sick all over again.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He asked bluntly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and irritation from your behavior. He could see something was bothering you and it was pissing him off that you weren't talking to him.

“Nothing.. I promise..” You replied. “I'm happy! See?” You forced a smile on your face as Bakugou watched your bottom lip quiver and eyes water as you tried to pathetically convince him you were fine all while looking like a kicked puppy.

“You’re a shit liar. You're about to fucking cry.” Bakugou’s hand shifted to cup the side of your face. You leaned into the warmth of his hand

“Tell me what's wrong.” His voice was still blunt and expression still stern. He never wants to see you like this. Sure, you got upset or even bratty from time to time but he's never seen you in this state and it worried the fuck out of him.

“I-I.. I just-!” You struggled to find proper words to convey how you felt. His thumb rubbed your cheek gently somewhat calming you down and keeping you from hyperventilating.

“Breathe.” His voice and expression softened upon seeing you teary and vulnerable.

“I just miss you!” You blurted out. Bakugou looked down at you with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“You're so busy with work you seem to forget I exist, I don't say anything because I-I’m proud of you and I want you to be successful! I understand you're very busy but.. but is it too much to ask for thirty minutes of your time? Katsuki, I miss spending time with you-” Bakugou watched you pour out all your emotions and thoughts like word vomit.

Guilt hit him all at once like a fucking train seeing you crying because of him. He was the reason you felt like this and he wanted to punch himself in the face for not noticing how unhappy you were sooner. He did admit that work seemed to be the only thing he’s been about lately. Neglecting his love life, his friends, his family, maybe even his own health. Even holding you this close made him realize that he hasn't been.. this close in proximity to you in a while. He fucked up.

“I-Is there someone else? Is that it? My hair.. I can change it if you'd like. Do you still love me? I-” That was the final straw for him. He cut you off with a swift kiss to the lips. It surprised you but you almost immediately moved your lips into sync with his. The kiss was sloppy and too many emotions fueled it, but the most prevalent one was want.

Bakugou’s heart ached hearing your words. Of course he still loved you. Everything about you was perfect in every way, there was no way on Earth he would lose you over some random extra that probably only wanted him for his money and last name. The fact that you were so.. willing to change for him to make him happy because you were so in love seemed so... wrong. He thought that if anything he should be the one trying to make you happy. He couldn't give a fuck whether your hair was long or short, curly or straight, he loved you regardless. Your appearance was never a factor in his feelings for you. Only a bonus.

He pulled away from your lips suddenly and looked at you. Your eyes were puffy, mascara was running and your lipstick was smeared but you still looked beautiful. It was a look he particularly liked but, it was not under these circumstances. You were usually on your knees.

“Don't say stupid things like that.” Bakugou started.

“..I'm so shit at relationships..” He struggled with his words and you could see it in his face. He wasn't ever one to express how he felt.

“‘m sorry for treating you like a fucking stranger.. you know I love you. No one else could even hold a fucking candle to you, that shouldn't even be a thought in this pretty fucking head of yours.” He sighed.

“I don't fucking care about how your hair looks.. I only care about you.” He finished.

Your crying stopped at some point when he was speaking and you were only met with soft hiccups. Bakugou wiped the final few tears from your cheeks and left a kiss on your forehead.

“Stop crying over me. I'm not worth it.” He whispered against your skin. For some reason his words shocked you. Not worth it? You thought was worth all your tears plus more, what was he on about? Did he really think he wasn't good enough for you?

“You don't say stupid things like that either. You're worth all the good things in the world.” You said softly. Bakugou’s heart fluttered at your words and he almost felt himself blush. There was a comfortable silence before you spoke up again.

“Oh no,” You looked at the time. “We're going to be late to the event and I look atrocious” You looked up at him with a pout.

“Fuck it. They'll be fine without us. Those bastards are annoying as hell anyway.. Let's get dinner, yeah? You can pick where we go.” Bakugou proposed and you smiled.

“Let's go.” You stood on your tippy toes and planted a kiss on his lips.

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed this! For only 2k+ words I feel like I took forever to write this. I just wanted it to be up to standard.. feedback would be amazing. Also, my requests are open! Thank you for 100 followers! ❤️

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter One

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2101

Chapter Warning: Bad Language Words, tiny bit of angst

A/N: I started this on AO3 awhile ago. Now that I have a blog dedicated primarily to just Marvel/Bucky, I thought I’d add it here, too. Enjoy!

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.  

Bucky heard his phone buzz as he was tugging a butter-soft tee over his head. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed as he worked his arms into their respective holes.

9:36

Steve was long in bed already, so the text most likely wasn’t from him. Sam was on a me me kick-- No, what did he call them? Memes!-- of a disgruntled cat which he swore reminded him of the super soldier. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were him. Or possibly Nat. She picked up the new issue of Guns & Ammo the other day and was sending him pictures of a Mossberg MC1sc 9mm she was drooling over.

Smoothing the body of the shirt over his torso, Bucky ambled over to his bed. He snatched up the phone from the navy blue comforter and flipped it over. To his amazement, the text wasn’t from Sam or Nat. Or even Steve.

(917) 460-5480 work thing boring af. kinda tied one on. might be late meeting you tomorrow

He blinked several times at the message, uncertain how to respond. It was a wrong number, right? Bucky hadn’t made plans with anyone for tomorrow that he could remember. Plus, everyone he knew had the same work thing. And it was rarely boring.

Definitely a wrong number.

He set the phone down near the clock, choosing to ignore the text. Hopefully, whoever this person was, figured out quickly they were texting the wrong number and moved on.

Bucky pulled back the covers before climbing into bed. His body melted into the mattress, muscles relaxing for the first time since breakfast. Training had been non-stop all day today. It felt good to just be, for once.

He grabbed the book he was reading off the nightstand and opened it to the spot he left off. He cleared his mind, as best he could, and concentrated on the words on the page.

A few pages in, his phone vibrated alive again. Another text message.

(917) 460-5480 sis dont be mad youd be drinking too if you had to sit thru one of these business dinners

Bucky sighed. He had hoped his radio silence would have clued this person into their mistake. Wishful thinking. Before he could punch out a reply, another text came through.

(917) 460-5480 timmons is droning on about this new client. kill me now

He quickly typed out a reply:

(917) 308-3117 I think you sent this to me by mistake.

Bucky watched the text indicator pulse as this unknown person worked out their response.

(917) 460-5480 haha very funny sis

Bucky huffed at this person’s disbelief, thumbs working on typing out his next message.

(917) 308-3117 I’m not trying to be funny. I can’t be someone’s sister when I’m a man.

He set the phone down on the nightstand again, hoping this person finally took a hint. He opened his book back up to the current page, taking a deep breath.

The room’s silence was broken again by the loud thrumming of his phone skittering across the surface of the black wood veneer.

(917) 460-5480 how does kevin feel about this so close to the wedding???

(917)460-5480 will you still need a wedding dress or will you just get a tux???

(917) 460-5480 am i still your maid of honor???

Bucky chuckled at this girl (no, young woman) asking the essential questions.

(917) 308-3117 Your sister did not get a sex change. Yes, she will still need a wedding dress. Yes, you are still her maid of honor. Like I said before, wrong number.

An almost immediate reply came through.

(917) 460-5480 prove it

Bucky grew slightly irritated at the insinuation. Why couldn’t she take his word for it? He exhaled loudly through his nose.

(917) 308-3117 How?

A few moments passed before the device juddered in the palm of his large hand.

(917) 460-5480 selfie

Bucky blanched at the request. He could feel the color drain from his face, only to immediately heat with a blush. A selfie? That is the last thing he wanted to do.

Although he’d been exonerated for his crimes as The Winter Soldier, he still knew about the dislike people felt about him as a person, in general. They couldn’t get past the brainwashing or other persona. God knows he still struggled with it.

He couldn’t go broadcasting his face through texts to a stranger. What if she was one of those who didn’t understand he had no say in what he did or what happened to him under Hydra’s control?

What if he ignored the solicitation? He could do that. Maybe even turn off his phone.

She did seem the type to be very persistent until she got what she wanted.

True to form, another text rang through.

(917) 460-5480 i will keep texting until i see your manly face

One corner of his lips quirked higher. Yup, persistent.

He navigated to the camera app on his phone and switched it to selfie mode. He stared at the damp locks falling to his shoulders. His beard would require a trim soon, but it wasn’t scraggly. Luckily, he’d had the hindsight to shave his neckbeard in the shower earlier.

Was he considering this? Some girl says jump, and he asks how high?

He combed metal fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath.

(917) 460-5480 im waiting

Bucky growled at the text, running a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. Give me a second,” he said to his phone. He held it up to head height, half an arm’s length away.

Click!

He previewed the picture, assuring himself it didn’t reveal too much. It was, somehow, off-center, containing a bearded chin and half a smirked mouth, one nostril, and a half-lidded eye.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky pulled the messaging app back up and then sent off the picture. He tossed the phone aside, not wanting to watch the taunting blinking dots as he waited for a reply.

The picture was barely recognizable, but someone like Steve or Nat could tell it was him. It would be okay. No one would know.

His phone vibrated violently near him on the bed. Bucky cautiously plucked the device up, debating whether he wanted to read her reply. What if it said, “Holy shit! You’re The Winter Soldier!”? The hope of this woman thinking he was just some regular guy knotted up his stomach. He didn’t know why he cared so much about whether this stranger thought he was The Soldier or not. He had no control over who believed the lies perpetrated as truth through the media. He could only wish for the best.

He blew out the breath he was holding in and eyed the phone’s screen.

(917) 460-5480 is it fair to say men shouldnt be allowed to have long eyelashes??

Bucky laughed and immediately thought of poor Steve.

(917) 308-3117 You should see my buddy’s. The girls swoon and complain at the same time.

He quickly added to the message thread:

(917) 308-3117 Am I correct to assume you believe I’m a man and not your sister?

The response was swift.

(917) 460-5480 oh shit ur not my sister

(917) 460-5480 this isnt 9173083447?

Bucky laughed again, the tension in his chest slowly unfurling.

(917) 308-3117 Unfortunately for you-- no.

(917) 460-5480 ugh im such an idiot sorry for the shit i said

(917) 308-3117 Don’t worry about it. I had a good laugh at your expense.

(917) 460-5480 oh god now i feel like a bigger ass

Bucky suddenly felt like backpedaling. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad about her mistake. It was cute in a roundabout way.

(917) 308-3117 Please don’t be embarrassed. It was the highlight of my night.

(917) 460-5480 me forcing u to prove ur a man was the best part of ur night??

Bucky thought for a moment. Was it the best part? The training sessions had become monotonous lately, even with the new agents. The team hadn’t been on any missions in a few weeks, so it was pretty accurate to say he was bored around the compound.

(917) 308-3117 I suppose it was. Work’s been a little slow, and there’s only so much training you can do before it becomes tedious.

(917) 460-5480 training? r u in the military? ooh, r u an athlete??

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. It was comical to see her try to guess his profession. His selfie hadn’t announced who he was to her after all.

(917) 308-3117 Something like that.

(917) 460-5480 so mysterious! r u some assassin who needs to keep his identity secret? is that y ur selfie only showed a quarter of ur face??

He paled at the implication. Maybe she did know and was yanking his chain. How did he block numbers again?

Another text came through from the mystery woman:

(917) 460-5480 not that i mind u have a luscious mouth

Bucky guffawed at the comment as flames rose beneath the skin of his cheeks. He hadn’t remembered blushing this much in such a short amount of time in decades.

(917) 308-3117 How much have you had to drink tonight, doll?

(917) 460-5480 doll?? what r u my grandpa??

He chuckled again. God, he was old enough and then some.

(917) 460-5480 enough to not want to shoot my brains out but not enough to know this dinner isnt a party

(917) 308-3117 Maybe you should get back to your dinner? I don’t want to get you into trouble.

He regretted the text the second he pressed send. Was he trying to get rid of her? No. Or was he looking out for her? This person he knew nothing about. She was more entertaining than the recurring nightmare he’d been having for the last week, that's for sure. He'd cling to this unknown to avoid slipping into that black abyss.

(917) 460-5480 aww does the military-trained assassin athlete mchottie not want to talk with me anymore?? 🙁

(917) 308-3117 No!! I’m honestly concerned you’ll be reprimanded if you pay more attention to your phone than Timmons.

The last thing Bucky needed was to feel more guilt, especially if it was at the expense of someone’s livelihood. His shoulders were already heavy enough.

(917) 460-5480 thats sweet but dont worry ur pretty little head over me timmons wouldnt last a day w/o me

(917) 460-5480 timmons may be the boss but i run that office

He simpered at her swagger. He could only imagine what kind of office she worked in because, again, a total stranger. Did he want to get to know her more, or was this a one and done thing? Would she wake up tomorrow and want to continue the conversation or blow him off for the drunken mistake her first text had been?

Bucky stared at his phone for several more minutes, pondering precisely what he was doing and what his expectations of the night were. It’s not like he was going to meet her in person, right? Was he that delusional? He was an Avenger now. He didn’t get a social life. Not that he had one before but still.

He was startled from his reverie as the phone shook in his hand.

(917) 460-5480 did i scare you away??

(917) 308-3117 No. Just thinking about tomorrow.

(917) 460-5480 shit a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie must have a lot to prepare for mentally ill let u get ur rest

He smiled at the gesture. If only she knew.

(917) 308-3117 Send me a text when you get home. I want to make sure you arrived okay.

(917) 460-5480 such a gentleman! i don’t want to wake u if ur asleep tho

(917) 308-3117 I doubt I’ll be sleeping, but it’ll help ease my mind.

(917) 460-5480 alright ill shoot a text ttfn

(917) 308-3117 ttfn?

(917) 460-5480 ta ta for now god u r a grandpa

(917) 308-3117 Yeah, yeah

Bucky’s mouth split into yet, another grin as he set his phone down once again on the nightstand. He picked up his discarded book and found his place on the page. After a few minutes of re-reading the same paragraph over and over, he slipped the bookmark into the gutter of the book. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of some random girl in the city at a boring work dinner. He realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since they temporarily said goodbye.

Maybe there was a good chance this conversation would carry into tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

[nalgenewhore]

anything and everything

elide x lorcan, modern au, sick fic/domestic fluff, word count: 1874

The clock at the back of his classroom showed that there was two minutes left until lunch. The history teacher knew he’d lost his students three minutes ago, and tossed his printed copy of the PowerPoint onto his meticulously organised desk. “Alright, guys, I think that’s enough for today. Pack up and get out of here, yeah?” 

The sounds of rustling paper and shuffling bags filled the room. Lorcan unplugged his laptop from the projector and clicked it off, pushing the cart back to its corner. He heard his grade twelves’ easy conversations and jokes as they filed out, bidding him good-bye. 

“Bye, Mr. S,” Evangeline called, waving as she walked out, “thank you!” 

“You’re welcome, Evangeline. Have a good day,” Lorcan replied. No one else was in his classroom, so he pushed in the chairs and picked up the stray pencils that had been left. 

He slid his laptop into his bag and slung the leather strap over his shoulder. Lorcan left the blinds down from when they’d been drawn for the video he’d shown and flicked the lights off before he closed and locked the door. 

His hands were shoved in his pockets as he walked to the teacher’s lounge. Lorcan was the first there and he decided to call home, his phone in his back pocket.

As the phone rang, Lorcan grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit and rinsed it before he ate it.

His fiancée picked up after two rings and sounded even more congested and hoarse than she’d been in the morning, “Hello, love. How’s your day going?” Elide coughed loudly, the sound deep and from her chest, “I’m feeling so much better, honestly, baby. I think I’ll just pop in and teach my last few class–” 

“Lee, you're sick. You'll collapse before you get to the front gate and you know it,” he said, nodding to Rowan, who walked in with Aelin and Lysandra. Nesryn couldn’t have been that far behind them. 

Elide huffed, knowing he was right and hating it, “I’m not sick, I’m not even barfing! I’m just achy and I have a cough, I’m fine.” 

“You have the flu, Elide. You do not have the energy to teach two classes - stay home.” 

She muttered something and Lorcan could practically hear her eye roll. “Fine. I can do video calls anyway, bye-bye, L, love you!” 

“That is not what I meant, Elide,” he protested, but Elide hung up. Lorcan sighed through his nose and put his phone in his pocket once more. The rest of the apple was gone in two bites. 

From one of the tables, the blonde science teacher looked over at him, a bite of leftover risotto and pink salmon on her fork, “Was that our Ellie dear? How is she?” 

“Stubborn and petty,” Lorcan grumbled in good nature. He tossed his apple core into the compost bin, “I’m done for the day, so I’m going home. Please don’t call me if you need help.” His colleagues laughed mockingly at his inconsiderate remark and Lorcan smirked, saluting them as he walked out. “Bye, guys. Have a good day.” He walked down the hall, waving and nodding to students he recognised. 

Lorcan passed two of his favourites, Luca and Evangeline. They stopped him to talk and they chatted about Luca’s upcoming debate and Evangeline’s English presentation. He wished them both luck and continued on, all but refusing to acknowledge any of his other colleagues. Lorcan didn’t have anything against them, save for a few, but he didn’t want to be dragged into a long conversation with them when his girl was home sick and miserable. 

Outside, it was raining, but light enough that it was more of a mist than any noticeable precipitation. Lorcan got into their old Volkswagen Jetta - the car that Elide had saved for during her last year of high school to buy - and pulled out of the parking lot, going slowly around the meandering students and teachers alike. 

Since he hadn’t eaten lunch yet and he had been dreading his tuna salad sandwich all day, Lorcan stopped by the local Blackbeak restaurant. He bought pierogies, borscht, sausage, and cabbage rolls. Knowing Elide loved them so, he added on an order of sweet, apple-filled piroshkis and sweet tea. 

Luckily, the wait wasn’t long and he tipped them well when they handed him the containers in two plastic bags, including a tray for their tea. Lorcan carried their food back to the car and put it on the passenger seat, carefully fitting the cups of tea in the cup holders. 

Lorcan got back in his seat and drove on, more slowly this time so the food would remain untouched. He’d tossed his phone onto the dash and it rang. He glanced over at it and saw Elide calling him. Since he was driving, Lorcan didn’t pick up and he would be home soon enough. 

He came to a stop at a red light and looked over at the text she sent him. 

princess: r u too busy to answer me cause ur with ur new WHORE. 

princess: dont even come home tn im so over ur disrespectful ass. smh. 🙄. cant believe i ever trusted a MAN. 

princess: bby im so hungry tell me what to get i cant decide 🥺 pls help me ill b so nice to uuuuuu ❤🖤🥰🥰😘 

Lorcan laughed and shook his head, driving on home. He pulled up in front of their townhouse a mere five minutes later. Carefully, Lorcan balanced everything and locked the car. He walked through the front gate and up the stone pathway. 

Somehow, he managed to carry everything and unlocked the front door. When he walked in, he heard someone’s long nails tapping across a laptop keyboard. Lorcan chuckled quietly and put his bags down. He hung up his jacket, put his keys in the silver dish next to Elide’s, and toed off his shoes. 

Lorcan walked down the hallway and passed the staircase, putting their food on the kitchen counter. Then, he rolled up the sleeves of his wool sweater and white shirt. He walked upstairs, “Lee? You in bed?” 

He passed their shared office and leaned against the doorframe, eyes landing on his fiancée. Elide had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her dark hair pushed up in a messy bun. Her thick glasses were perched on the edge of her nose and when she looked up at him, Elide pushed them back up, “Oh, hi, love.” She looked back at her laptop and colour-coordinated lesson plan, still typing. “I didn’t know you were coming home, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Evidently I did because my fiancée refuses to rest,” he said, shoving off the door and walking in. She rolled her eyes and frowned. Lorcan walked around to her side and crouched, twisting her chair around, “Elide. You’re sick. Your students are not going to be affected if you take a day or two off, now please. Can you just get back in bed? For me?” 

She clicked her tongue and sighed, “That’s cheating. You can’t say it’s for you when you know I’d do anything for you.” 

Lorcan smirked and cupped her face, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone, “Just doing what I can.” He surveyed her, his eyes not missing a thing. There was a slight sheen of sweat on her brow and her eyes were tired. Her skin was paler and more pallid than usual, the only spot of colour on the tip of her nose. She was restraining herself, but Lorcan could see her shivering. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m… fine.” 

He arched a brow. Elide sighed through her nose and looked to the side. 

“Fine. I feel like shit. I’m tired and I have a headache and I’m so, so tired,” she whispered, tipping herself forward and leaning into him. “I hated that you left this morning. I wanted to be with you and… and let you take care of me.” 

Lorcan smiled softly and got to his feet, picking her up as well. Her head fell against his shoulder and he held her with one arm banded beneath her thighs. He cut off the camera and sent a bland message before signing out and turning it off. As he carried her out, Lorcan asked, “Are you hungry? Have you eaten anything?” 

Elide shook her head, “No… I was sleeping.” 

“I got food. Blackbeak,” he told her, smiling when she gasped wondrously. 

“O-m-giness.” Elide said softly, dancing her shoulders around. “You’re the best, baby. Did you get piroshki? The- the sweet one. With apple.” 

“Mm-hmm,” he said, pushing her hair back again. “And pierogies, tea, sausage, and cabbage rolls. Everything, even soup.” 

“I love you so fuckin’ much, man,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. Elide’s face was comfortably hidden in the crook of his neck. She could smell his cedar cologne, the lavender dryer ball on his sweater, and the sweetgrass he’d smudged with. “We should watch When Harry Met Sally.” 

Lorcan huffed a laugh through his nose and kissed the side of her head, “Yeah. Sally’s a spaz.” 

“And Harry’s an inconsiderate asshat,” Elide replied, squeezing her thighs around his hips. 

They crossed through the door of their bedroom and Lorcan set her down on their bed. He left her be, letting her manoeuvre into her little nest of blankets, quilts, and a duvet. 

He changed into sweatshorts and a hoodie with their university’s logo before going downstairs. On his way, he re-did his hair in some tiered, sloppy and loopy bun. 

In the kitchen, he played some random song from his phone and bobbed his head as he served them both food. 

Lorcan carried their plates and bowls back upstairs. Elide got up to help her when he got to their room. On the TV that opposited their bed showed the main menu of When Harry Met Sally. He laughed quietly and shook his head, sitting down beside her and getting comfortable. 

Elide hummed delightedly and pressed play from her phone. She took the tea first and drank it quickly, suddenly ravenous. Lorcan passed her water and medicine. Elide took it and ate her beet soup, sans sour cream. 

The movie played and Lorcan ate his pierogies, gently sipping on his own tea. 

Done first, Elide put her dish to the side and leaned into him. She mouthed the lines, her eyes slowly falling shut. Lorcan grinned and finished the cabbage roll before easing out from under her and taking their things back downstairs. 

He got her more citrus tea and went back upstairs. The flu-ridden woman woke up when he got in bed and resituated herself. 

“I got the vaccine, baby,” Elide muttered, her arms wrapped around his neck, “and I’m still sick. I’m anti-vax now. They’re hoaxes.” 

Lorcan sighed through his nose, still adoring her dramatics. “You can’t say that to your students, Lee. They believe anything.” 

The chemistry teacher smacked his chest, “They arent dumb! They’re just…” 

“Stupid,” Lorcan finished her sentence. “C’mon, I had a student who didn’t know Terrasen’s capital. He was born here, Elide.” 

She snorted and hid her face in his neck. “I love you.” 

“Forever and always, Lee.”

☽ ☼ ☾

an: i luv them. omg. 

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[khneltea]

I posted 2,669 times in 2021

89 posts created (3%)

2580 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 29.0 posts.

I added 566 tags in 2021

#maribat - 156 posts

#daminette - 62 posts

#marinette dupain cheng - 59 posts

#romance - 48 posts

#dc comics - 45 posts

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Longest Tag: 140 characters

#''ok so he is sticking his tongue down my throat but in a bro way rightt??? it's just??? boys being pals right??? he isn't into men right?''

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

dickinette #3

woooooooohoooooo ok this is totally dickinette, found it a while ago when a bunch of people reblogged it and mentioned it

so i kinda wrote it? it's basically whatever that plot was but like, a little more in-depth

also, had no motivation to click the shift button while typing so y'all have to deal

@jayjayspixiepop @mochegato @boldlyanxious @fangirling-101 @prettylittlebutterflie @hammalammadamdam

marinette didn't really know how she ended up here

one minute she was just chilling at home and drinking a mini fruity cocktail with her basically-sisters chloe and kagami on zoom

the next moment she was sitting on the curb in front of the only international post office in her area with all the miraculi back at home, half drunk

why zoom? because covid was a bitch and came back with the delta strain so everything was in lockdown

she was stuck in gotham city cus she was in the middle of her first in-person commission and left kaalki with adrien for the month + can't really explain to parisian authorities how she just popped back into paris out of nowhere without proper documentation and health reasons

so anyways she's on the curb with a bunch of these fabrics in her arms and wants to fall asleep

but her phone beeps and she looks at it

adrien messaged her about their nightly skype calls about guardian stuff

at this point, she's still drunk so she doesn't know what she's doing

note, never let marinette drunk type

adrien: hey mars, we still on for tonight? you're not answering ur skype

marinette: heyyy skittyyyajk

adrien: uh mari are u drunk

marinette: are U driiiiiiink?

at this point adrien is getting frantic and calls her cus he doesn't know how to deal with a drunk marinette

"MARINETTE HOW MUCH DID YOU DRINK"

"two? *hic* freeeeeee? fjoorrr??"

if she was rambling numbers and slurring, that meant she was at level four drunk marinette who was basically a teenage airhead who giggles too much at the most stupid things

he finally noticed her surroundings

"MARINETTE ARE YOU OUTSIDE?? IN GOTHAM??? AT NIGHT??? DURING LOCKDOWN????? CORONA?????"

are you going to look me in the eye and tell me that adrien would not be paranoid about covid because his mom had problems that had to do with her chest (i mean it was the miraculous but still)

so yeah adrien is freaking out

but marinette is chill and everything and she was like "it's fineeeeee it's for essentiallll woooorrrrkkkkkkkk"

"THAT'S NOT THE PROBLEM HERE YOU NEED TO GET HOME RIGHT AWAY"

ok we all know that marinette is basically a stupid genius and she thinks of the most stupid but brilliant things

See the full post

269 notes • Posted 2021-07-11 09:38:43 GMT

#4

*at the Wayne Charity Gala*

Adrien: *nods head* Wayne

Damian: *nods head* Agreste, Stone

Luka: I actually prefer Couffaine

*marinette walks by*

Marinette: Hi boys

Adrien: hey purri-//

Damian: hey angel-

Luka: hey ma-ma-mari-

*Adrien, Damian, and Luka glare at each other*

286 notes • Posted 2021-07-16 02:01:01 GMT

#3

Damian: my girlfriend has to be of the highest standard

Marinette: *trips over his own feet, bumps into a lamp post, and apologizes to it*

Damian:

Damian: I want that one

306 notes • Posted 2021-03-07 08:24:04 GMT

#2

Damian: marinette, what is that

Marinette: *holding a bag of popcorn and a hogtied chat noir*

Marinette:

Marinette: I got popcorn, why do you ask?

Damian: *sighs aggressively*

312 notes • Posted 2021-04-07 13:28:16 GMT

#1

Damian: tt, all girls are the same. they have a high-pitched giggle and are klutzs lacking in composure

Marinette: *has a high-pitched giggle and is a klutz lacking in composure*

Damian: *heart eyes* she's klutz lacking in composure and has a high-pitched giggle

392 notes • Posted 2021-07-26 11:44:37 GMT

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All For You | 5 [Finale] ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

firstly, i want to say thank you all so fucking much for the love, the support, the countless asks, comments, and reblogs on this series. this is an epilogue of sorts - mostly focusing on matty’s POV - as well as a tribute to the first part that started this all. enjoy my loves <3

4 times Matty knew he loved you, and the one time he knew you loved him.

word count: 6.8k+

warnings: some smut, not super descriptive, angst, elias and noah being little shits, lots of elaboration on events previously mention in the series :)

part one

part two 

part three

part four

masterlist

I. 

The game was brutal. You curled up on your couch to watch it, your body tense the entire time. You lost track of how many times Matt fought someone on the ice, whether he went after someone on behalf of one of his teammates, or when he was being targeted. To say the least...Matt got his ass handed to him.

The game ends with the Rangers shutting out the Flames. You keep the TV on, anxious to see if Matt was going to be interviewed. He wasn’t, but you caught glimpses of him behind Mark Giordano as he answered questions in that monotone hockey voice. Matt looked like a wreck from what you saw, bruises forming on his face and hair an absolute mess. 

You shake your head and turn the TV off, immediately reaching for your phone. You text him without thinking, not realizing what you did until you see ‘delivered’ under the messages. 

you: i’m sorry about the game :( you: anything i can do? you: ice cream or something? 

You panic when the read receipt pops up almost immediately. You'd only been in Calgary for about a month, and only hung out with him a couple of times - and that was with constant reassurance from Brady that you weren't a burden on him. Either way, there's no way he would trust you that much right? 

Three short consecutive buzzes sounded, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. 

matthew: can i come over? matthew: if that's cool with you matthew: no worries if not ik you said you haven't totally unpacked 

You can't help the smile that tugs at your lips at the last text. Maybe he really didn't see you as just his brother’s best friend. You quickly type a response back. 

you: of course you can !! you: and fyi i did unpack you: sorta 

matthew: am i supposed to believe that???? matthew: be there in like. 20 matthew: i still gotta shower lol

you: then shower it up stink monster you: see u sooooon you: any snack/drink requests? 

It takes a few minutes to get a response from him, and you assumed that he showered during that time. Over the past month Matt almost never lagged when it came to responding to texts, except for practices and games. 

Your phone buzzes again, but this time it’s a Snapchat notification from Matt. You click on it and the app switches. Tapping on the red square reveals Matt, seemingly fresh out of the shower with his thumb up. That caption reads “fastest shower time on the team? yessir”, another caption underneath reading “no longer a stink monster”.

You laugh and respond to a photo of the top half of your face, typing out “yeah yeah answer my text stinky”. He opens the snap immediately, and 30 seconds later you get a text from him. 

matthew: yo tbh if you have popcorn 👀👀

you: ur in luck i do!! the super buttery kind tho :/

matthew: my fave matthew: don't tell anyone on the team tho 

You pause for a moment. You hadn't even met anyone on the team, only heard them in the background of the few phone calls you'd had with Matthew. Did he want you to meet them? 

Shaking the thought out of your head, you react to the message with the laugh reaction and assure him you won't. He texts you to let you know he was on his way and suddenly you panic again. Matt hadn't been in your apartment since your first week in Calgary. Even then it wasn't really your apartment, it was just an empty place filled with boxes. He had helped you build all the furniture that had arrived, but since then you’d only hung out with him at restaurants or bars or coffee shops. 

You don't know why the idea of him in your space makes anxiety wash over you, and you have to remind yourself that Matt is someone you grew up with. He's your best friend’s brother and someone you've known your whole life, but for some reason you still felt like you had something to prove to him. 

There's a heavy knock on your door before you can pull yourself out of your head enough to make sure everything in your apartment is clean and tidy, and you almost want to scream but you figure it would be weirder than having a slightly messy living room. 

When you open the door for Matt, the first thing you notice are the two forming bruises on his face. The second thing you notice is how tired he looks, his smile genuine but still not reaching his eyes. 

“Hey,” you breathe out, “Come in.” He bumps your shoulder softly in a silent greeting as he slips past you into your apartment. 

“The place looks great, Y/N/N,” Matt says softly, admiring the decorations and photos you’d placed around to make it feel more like home. You're glad he isn't facing you and can't see the surprised look on your face at hearing him call you by your nickname. 

“Thanks Matty,” you say, your anxiety fading when he turns to smile at you again. “I’ll get the popcorn, you can pick a movie or a show or something, if you want.” You chuckle softly as he all but collapses on your couch, stretching out as you make your way towards the kitchen. 

Matt’s eyes follow you as you disappear through the doorway, the sound of the microwave starting just a few moments later. If he wasn't so tired and bruised he would pay more attention to the nervousness bubbling up inside of him. It had been a long time since he really hung out with you like this - the last time he can remember was probably his senior year of high school. Brady had been gone on a class trip for one of the few classes you hadn't taken together, and Taryn was still too young for you to relate to her. So for a full week you showed up at their door and flopped on his bed, or vice versa, claiming that you were bored and were there to stay. He remembers pretending to be annoyed, but inside he was practically screaming, overthinking every little thing that he said to you. 

His teammates would chirp him if they knew - Matt had known that for sure. What, a hotshot hockey playing senior getting butterflies over a sophomore girl? Oh, he would be torn apart in the locker room. That's why he didn't kiss you then. It was stupid, really, now that he thought back on it, but he was 17 then, and his teammates’ opinions were more important to him than taking a chance with his brother’s best friend. 

But now you were here. In Calgary. And he was here, in your apartment.

He feels 17 again, your sweet voice floating from the kitchen asking him if he wanted anything to drink. He replies that he only wants water, and decides to take you up on looking through Netflix. He settles for a random episode of Parks and Rec when you come back to the living room, a bowl of popcorn in one hand, and two glasses of water somehow held in the other. 

You make a face at him and shove his legs out of the way with your foot, placing the bowl and glasses on the table. You laugh when he groans and moves his legs out of the way so you can sit, before moving them back onto the couch to tangle with your own. Matt reaches for the bowl of popcorn as you snatch a blanket from its spot on the back of the couch and drape it over both of your legs. 

“Still cold all the time, Y/N/N?” Matt teases, nudging his foot against your knee as you laugh sharply. 

“Haven't changed a bit, Matty,” you throw back immediately. Your heart skips a beat when he laughs, a really, loud, genuine laugh, head thrown back and everything. You can't help but think that it suits him more than the tired smile he wore when he showed up at your door. 

“You really haven't,” he says with a grin, eyes finally sliding back to yours. His hair curls over his forehead, but you can't look away from his eyes. The intensity of his stare makes you shiver, and you pretend it’s from the cold, pulling the blanket towards you more and looking away. You ignore his grumble of protest, but he lets you do it anyway. 

“You haven't changed either, you know,” you say quietly. He stays silent, only shifting in his spot to get more comfortable. 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, your eyes on the TV and his on...well his eyes are on you. He thinks back to all the times he wanted to make a move on you. Countless hours he spent beating himself up for letting the opportunities slip through his fingers because of his stupid pride. 

He's not 17 anymore, he could kiss you right now. He could wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, kiss you until you're breathless and absolutely begging for him. 

But he doesn't. 

Not when you look like this, so comfortable and warm and here. He can't kiss you when you opened your home to him after a tough loss. He can't take advantage of you like that. 

So Matt trains his eyes on the TV again, sneaking glances at you here and there as he all but shovels popcorn into his mouth so he doesn't say something stupid. He doesn't realize you've fallen asleep until he sneaks another glance at you, this time looking for just a little longer than a split second. 

Your eyes are closed, cheek smushed into the cushion and your chest rising and falling with soft, even breaths. He realizes then how tired you must be, it’s nearly 11:30 and he knows you have to be up early for work. He can't tear his eyes away, can't help but take advantage of being able to stare at you without getting caught. 

God, you're so cute like this, he wishes you were in his arms instead of on the other side of the couch. He wants this to last as long as possible, but your head is tilted at an awkward angle, and he doesn't want you to go to work tomorrow in pain. 

Instead of taking his time looking over every inch of your adorable sleeping face, he gently untangles his legs from yours, grabbing the empty bowl and cups and heading to the kitchen. Once he's done washing them and placing them on the drying rack, he heads back to you, pausing in the doorway for one more moment to just look at you. 

He finally convinces himself that he’s stared enough, it’s getting creepy now, and you need to go to bed. Matt makes his way back to you, squatting down and gently placing a hand on your arm. 

“Y/N/N?” he says softly, rubbing softly up and down your arm. 

“Hmm?” you hum softly, blinking slowly with blurry eyes. 

“You gotta go to bed,” he murmurs, and he can't stop himself from brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “You have work in the morning, c’mon.” 

You whine in protest and your eyes flutter shut again. You're too comfortable, too warm to get up now. Matt sighs, resignation setting in. He slowly peels the blanket off of you, folding and draping over the back of the couch like before, before sliding his arms underneath your back and knees and lifting you effortlessly. 

You mumble something unintelligible as you bury your face in his chest. Matt says nothing as he finds your bedroom, depositing you on your bed as soft as he can, and tugging the duvet out from under you and then back over you again. 

“You can't go home,” you mumble again, louder, grabbing his hand feebly before he can walk away. Matt freezes at the implication, even though he knows the thoughts spiraling in his mind are unlikely in your barely awake state. “S’late Matty, you can't go home.” 

“Y-you-you want me to sleep here?” he stutters, and you nod, blissfully unaware of the rampage of emotions in Matt’s head.

“Guest bedroom’s furnished,” you slur, voice thick with exhaustion. “Don't go home. S’late.” With that, you're fast asleep again, and Matt - well -

Fuck, Matt thinks. He's fucked. And he knows it. 

II. 

Based on the look on Noah’s face, Matt knows he's going to get one hell of a lecture as soon as you're out of earshot. He'd finally taken you to meet his teammates, and he was really starting to regret it. He knows that you're beautiful, he'd just rather not watch his teammates stare shamelessly. He really is glad he told them warned them to keep their hands off though, using the excuse that you were his brother’s best friend and there was no way he would let those hooligans go after you. 

But now that you're actually meeting them, Matt knows that they're going to call him on his shit. His team knows him better than that. 

His hand is resting against the small of your back as he leads you to a booth towards the back of the bar. He slows down before he gets within earshot of the table, leaning in to ask softly, “You okay?” 

You glance up at him with a nervous smile, but nod anyways. “Yeah,” you assure him, “I’m good, I just hope they like me.” 

Matt laughs at that, shaking his head at your confused expression. His laugh fades as you raise an eyebrow, looking at him expectantly. “They'll love you,” he finally clarifies, “Promise.” 

“Promise?” you say skeptically. 

“Promise,” he confirms, and the grin on his face is infectious, you can't help but smile back at him. “C’mon,” he says, pushing you lightly until you reach the table. 

“Matty!” exclaims one of the men at the table. A brunette, from what you can see in the dim light, and a face that makes him look 14. At his drunken greeting, the rest of the men and women at the table turn to look at you and Matt, making you shift uncomfortably under their collective gaze. 

“Aaand he’s drunk already, this is Brady and I’s friend, Y/N,” Matt introduces you, his hand sliding from your back to squeeze your hand comfortingly. He introduces each of the people at the table - the baby-faced one was named Johnny - before nudging the blonde that looked like a Disney prince until he moved over to make room for the two of you. 

“Hi,” you say, smiling shyly around the table. “It’s nice to meet you all, Matt’s told me a lot about you.” 

“Hope he wasn't talking shit,” Prince Charming teases with a slight accent, flashing you a bright smile. What was his name? Elias? 

“Oh he talks the most shit,” you banter, a sly smile tugging at your lips at Matt’s incredulous protest. “Always going on and on about how annoying you guys are - mmf!” Your teasing is cut short by Matt’s hand covering your mouth. Without thinking you lick the palm of his hand, laughing when he snatches it away again and off of your mouth. 

“That's gross,” Matt complains, wiping his hand on his jeans. 

“You asked for that,” you shoot back, elbowing him lightly when he rolls his eyes. 

“You know, I’m starting to regret this,” he grumbles, fighting the smile playing on his lips, “you’re just as annoying as them.” 

“Be nice Chucky!” Noah pipes up. You recognize him from the few times you’d stopped by Matthew’s apartment but had never stayed long enough to actually get to know him. 

“Yeah, Chucky,” you taunt, “better be nice to me, I know where you live during the off-season too.” The table erupts into laughter at that, and you accept a fist bump from Elias. 

“I like this one, Matthew,” Giordano says, “You better keep bringing her around.” 

You flush at the compliment, having heard how highly Matt speaks of his captain. 

Matt feels you relax into the booth, the tension in your body since your arrival finally draining at the approval from his team. He leans down slightly to murmur in your ear, “I told you they'd love you.” You smile at his words, tuning back into the conversation that had started up again. 

“Matthew,” Elias suddenly says, drawing your attention away from the intense discussion about whether or not hotdogs were considered sandwiches (the group was split almost 50/50, by the way). “Let’s go get more drinks. Noah?” 

You scoot out of the booth to let the two of them slip out, heading to the bar with Noah in tow, sliding back in to find yourself seated beside a beautiful blonde girl. She laughs when you say timidly, “I’m sorry, could you all tell me your names again?” 

She introduces herself in a thick accent as Annica, Elias’s girlfriend, and the other girls do too, before quickly striking up a conversation. “Do not worry,” she says kindly, “I forgot most names the first time I met too.” You laugh at that, before some of the wives and girlfriends start to ask you about yourself. 

“How do you know Matthew?” Brittany, Sean Monohan’s girlfriend, asks curiously. 

“I grew up with him,” you explain. “Brady’s my best friend, they live across the street from my family.” 

At the same time that you’re getting to know the girls at the table, Elias is slapping Matt upside the head. 

“Dude!” Matt groans. “What the fuck?” 

Noah rolls his eyes at Matt’s faux-obliviousness, “Dude, that girl is a smokeshow.” Noah manages to dodge Matt’s fist aimed at his arm, smirking at the defensiveness. “Just your friend huh?” he chirps, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Matt groans again, “Yes, just a friend, the hands-off rule still applies.” 

Elias snorts, unconvinced, leaning back against the bar to observe you interacting with the team and WAGs. “She’s funny, and fits in well,” Elias remarks. “And Noah is right, she is a smokeshow.” 

“I know,” Matt grumbles. “Don't you have a girlfriend?”

Elias throws his head back and laughs. “Annica pointed out when you walked in. Anyway, she's yours, clearly.” 

“Dude.” 

Matt was getting really sick of the chirping coming from his teammates. To be fair - they were right, but he couldn't let them know that. But as he follows Elias’s gaze to see you talking animatedly to the girls at the table - all of their attention trained on you - he can't help the soft smile on his lips. He's right, you do fit in well. 

He wonders how you'd look wearing a jacket with his name on the back. 

Noah’s voice snaps him out of his daydream. “I'm just saying man, you already look like you're halfway in love with her, so get on that.” 

“No,” Matt snaps finally, before his expression drops slightly. “Besides, our parents are fully convinced that she and Brady are gonna end up getting married or whatever.” 

Noah and Elias both wince at that, giving him sympathetic glances. Matt rolls his eyes, snatching half the round of drinks the bartender had deposited in front of them, and heading back to the booth, knowing that Elias and Noah were hot on his heels. Thankfully, he makes it before they can say anything else that might inspire Matt to do something stupid. 

But as he slides back in beside you, watching you interact with his teammates - his family away from family - he can't help but think about how wrong Noah was. 

More than halfway, Noah, way more than halfway. 

III. 

Matt’s lifelong habit of running away from his feelings just didn't seem to apply to you. No matter how much his feelings grew, how much they scared him, he still stayed. He still hung out with you, and texted you constantly. He still brought you to every team event under the guise of not wanting some random girl with him, and that he'd much rather have you there. 

When you told him about your feelings for his brother, it stung. So Matt did the only thing he could - not run away, he could never run from you. He crushed the hurt away, pushed his feelings down down down until they were just a whisper at the back of his mind. 

But then he made a mistake. He made an enormous, colossal, devastating mistake. 

He kissed you. 

He was wine-drunk, and so were you. Maybe that's why you let him. Maybe that's why you kissed him back. It was easier to believe that it was a drunken decision than let himself have any hope. 

You'd been at his apartment for dinner, something that had become a weekly occurrence now. Matt couldn't deny that he liked this, having you to himself without anyone Brady to steal your attention. 

You'd ordered in today, boxes of Thai takeout littering the counter. Matthew hadn't bothered to clean up after you were both done eating, insisting that he’d take care of it later, and for now you could just hang out. So that's what you did. 

The two of you sprawled on his couch, forgoing wine classes to just pass the bottle back and forth until both of you were giggling. Your cheeks felt warm from the wine, and you felt good. You felt relaxed and at home. 

You're thrown into another fit of giggles when Matt reminds you of the time Brady had fallen asleep after a game when you had all gone out for ice cream. He had ended up face planting directly into a scoop of his barely-eaten vanilla ice cream in the car on the way home, immediately snapping awake at the cold dessert hitting him directly in the face. 

Through your laughter, you say “What about the time you were trying to impress - hic - that girl - what was her name, Brenna? - and then you -” you cut yourself off, laughing uncontrollably at the unimpressed look on Matt’s face. He knew exactly what you were talking about, and it was easily one of the more embarrassing moments of his life. When you can catch your breath again you finish “- and you were staring so you slipped and fell on the ice!” 

Matt groans as you keep laughing, before a devious idea comes to mind. You know that look on his face all too well, your eyes widening as your laughter dies down. 

“Matt-” you start as he starts reaching for you, turning into a shriek when his hands reach their destination. “Matt, no!” 

His fingers finding your sides and tickling you mercilessly. 

“Matt!” you gasp, squirming to escape the torture. “I’m sorryyyyy! I won't mention it again, I promise!” 

He pauses for a moment, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“Promise?” he asks, his hands not leaving your sides even when you nod. He hums when you promise, distracted by your closeness. The wine made his mind fuzzy, and the feelings he's been harboring for so long come bubbling to the surface. 

Matt is terrified he's going to say something he’ll regret - especially with the knowledge of your feelings for Brady - so he does the only thing that will shut him up. He does what he was too cowardly to do when he was 17.

He kisses you. 

A surprised moan escapes your throat, but then you sigh, leaning into him and leaning into the kiss. His hold tightens around you as he tilts his head to slot your lips together. Your hands come up to run through his messy curls, making a noise of appreciation at how soft his hair is. 

Matt can't help himself, he leans back to his side of the couch, tugging you with him and into his lap. One hand leaves your waist to cup your jaw as you straddle him, his teeth tugging at your lip before sliding his tongue into your mouth. The hand on your waist comes down to your ass, a strangled moan breaking the kiss as his hand pushes you impossibly closer to Matt.

Matt reconnects your lips immediately, addicted to the feeling of finally kissing you after all these years. Through the haze in his brain he thinks that this is probably a bad idea, but fuck does he love it. 

You whine needily and break the kiss, rocking your hips against Matt and making him gasp. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, his hips jerking upwards to grind into you. Your eyes flutter open for a moment, shuddering at the dark look in Matt’s eyes. You think of saying something - anything - but Matt’s hand curls around the back of your head and pulls you back in to meet his lips. 

You tug at his hair as he kisses you, letting him move your hips into an undulating motion against his own. Matt's mouth drags away from yours, your whine turning into a soft moan as when he kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You shiver when you feel his teeth graze the column of your throat. 

Matt kisses every inch of exposed skin, unable to help himself from sucking a deep purple mark into your skin just above your collarbone. 

“Matty,” you whimper, grinding down harder against the growing tent in his sweatpants. Matt decides that your whimpers and moans are his favorite sound, and vows then that he’s going to do everything in his power to pull those noises from your body. He can't get enough of you, the way your hands roam over his shoulders and through his hair and the desperate way your grinding against him. You say his name again, this time a soft sigh as he keeps kissing at your skin, the hand on your ass sliding up and underneath your thin v-neck. 

“Baby,” he grunts against your skin, running his nose up along your neck. You whimper at the pet name, and Matt gets impossible harder under you. “Baby,” he whispers again, pulling back to look you in the eye. “Tell me if you want this, angel.” 

You nod frantically, leaning in to press your mouth on his again. 

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “I want this. I want you.” 

Matt moans at the words, wishing that it were true in every context. Instead he wraps his hands under your thighs and stands, making his way blind towards his bedroom. He tosses you on his bed unceremoniously, kicking the door shut behind him.

You look up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, reaching for him again, aching for his touch. Matt crawls over your body and brushes the hair out of your face as he hovers above you. 

“Matt,” you whine needily, wrapping a hand around his neck to pull him down to kiss you again. 

As Matt strips you of your clothes as well as his own, he lets himself pretend this is real. He fucks you with brutal, merciless thrust of his hips, and pretends like this isn't going to be a one-time thing. He lets himself feel while you cry out for him and arch your back as you cum. He calls you baby and acts like this isn't a drunken mistake you’re probably going to regret in the morning. 

And when you're both spent, his arms curled around you as you give him a dopey, sleepy smile - looking like a real life angel, he thinks - Matt lets himself pretend, for just a moment, that you love him too. 

IV. 

He hates this. 

Matt hates this. 

He hates the feeling of your body shaking against him, uncontrollable sobs wracking your body. Brady had left that morning for Ottawa after Autumn had reached out to him, asking to give their relationship another shot. And Matt hates him for it right now. 

He hates the sound of your crying, the tears spilling onto his shirt. He hates that you feel like this, heartbroken and miserable. 

Matt hates how responsible he feels for this. He was so sure that Brady reciprocated your feelings, telling you over and over again that he was positive his brother loved you too. In hindsight, he might have been projecting, but to him, it was impossible not to fall in love with you.

The thing he hates the most, though, is how selfish he is. How he can't help but think of how good it feels to hold you again. 

Another sob rips itself from your throat and Matt’s arms tighten around you, pulling you so that you were flush against his chest. He buries his face in your hair, whispering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over as you break down in his arms. 

He barely registers the feeling of you shaking your head against his shoulder. 

“Not your fault,” you mumble through your cries, shaking your head more vigorously. “It-it’s not - it’s my fault - I thought -” You cut yourself off and bury your head in his shoulder as your bawling continues. 

“It's not your fault,” he insists as one hand comes up to cup the back of your head, running through your hair in soft strokes. “It’s not, it’s not your fault, you did nothing wrong.” 

Matt holds you like that for what feels like eternity, your sniffles and cries coming slower and slower until they stop. He still holds you tight, tracing patterns over your skin and running his hands through your hair soothingly. He whispers gentle words in your ear, comforting you the best he can. 

Eventually you pull back slightly too look up at him, making Matt mourn the loss of feeling every inch of you pressed up against him. You look tired, sleepy, but most of all, you look sad - and it kills him inside. 

“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely, making Matt’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“What for, angel?” The nickname doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you can't help the warm feeling that worms its way through your heartbreak. 

“Everything,” you shrug, not wanting to really say the truth. Matt takes it for an answer, even though you both know it’s really not, and smiles gently, brushing hair out of your eyes like he's done so many times. “M’sorry about your shirt,” you mumble, and Matt laughs at that, his head thrown back.

“I've got plenty of shirts,” he teases, thumb sliding back and forth over your jaw comfortingly. As his laughter fades, his gaze becomes locked on yours. You look like you're in deep thought, at war with yourself, and he barely refrains from asking you what you're thinking about. 

“Okay?” Matt asks gently, eyes softening when your eyes focus on him again. You open your mouth as if to say something, before closing it again and nodding slowly. “Y/N/N?” 

Before he can really ask what's going on, you're throwing your arms around his neck, your lips colliding with his. Matt can't help but melt into the kiss, cupping your cheek as your lips move together. He hadn't felt this in so long. 

Oh, he missed this. He missed the feeling of your mouth on his. Missed kissing you until you were breathless. Missed the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

He moans gently, nearly delirious with his need for you. 

A pang of guilt shoots through him, making Matt pull away even as you whine and chase his lips. You look up with wide eyes and a slight pout, before you seem to realize what just happened. 

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry,” you gasp, scrambling to escape his embrace. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - that was fucked up - I’m sorry -” 

Matt’s grip only tightens, grabbing your chin to make you face him. “Hey - hey,” he says sharply, making you stop struggling and look at him. “It’s okay, I promise, we just - you're not in the right - we can't -” 

“I know,” you cut him off, “I know, I'm sorry.” 

“It's okay,” he assures you again, before asking you softly, “Do you want to go home?” 

You weren't sure which home he meant - your family’s house across the street or Calgary - but either way you shake your head frantically, clinging to him tighter at the idea of being alone with your broken heart right now. 

“Okay,” he soothes gently, “That's okay, I’m gonna go shower, okay? You wanna change?” You glance down at your clothes - sweatpants and a t-shirt - and shake your head again. 

“This is fine,” you say timidly, your voice small and sad and widen the hole in Matt’s heart. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, setting you gently on his mattress and tugging the duvet over you. “I won't be long, I promise.” You nod sleepily, your eyes already fluttering shut as you acknowledge him, as he backs away slowly. 

Matt has to clasp a hand over his mouth in the shower, muffling the noises out of his mouth as he weeps. 

He almost wants to laugh at the irony of it all. You love Brady. You love him and your heart is breaking because of it. And so is his. And even as Matt puts on clean pajamas and crawls back into his bed beside your sleeping figure, he still feels like he might start to cry again.

But then you mumble his name, your voice thick with sleep as you reach for him. Your hands feel small against his chest as you fist the material of his shirt and tug him towards you, sighing contently when his arms slide around your waist. 

You fit so fucking perfectly, Matt thinks, with your body tucked into his like this. His eyes linger on your face for a few moments, taking in the peaceful look on your sleeping face after hours of anguish and emotional turmoil. As he begins to drift off, his last thought before he falls into slumber, is how he's never been more at ease, more happy, more in love, than when he's with you. 

+1 

Matt has never been in so much pain in his entire life. The moment his eyes fluttered open, still blurry from sleep, he snapped them shut again. It was too bright. Why is everything so bright? He only knows one person that keeps the blinds open when they sleep and that was - Matt’s blood runs cold. 

“I like it when the sun wakes me up,” you’d said when he asked you. “It feels less like an alarm clock and more of a gentle reminder, you know?” 

He didn't know, he really really didn't, especially with the pounding in his head. But he has to know for sure, so slowly but surely, he opens one eye and then the other. Matt’s heart rises to his throat when he realizes where he is. 

Part of him thinks he might die on the spot. But the other part - the selfish fucking part of him - whispers that waking up in your bedroom is what he's been dreaming of for months. 

But then it hits him. The pain. 

Not the pounding headache, no - this was worse. This was so much fucking worse. It was worse than the day in his parents’ basement when you walked away from him all those months ago. Worse than the night he came home and found you naked in Brady’s bed. This pain felt worse than anything he'd ever felt before. 

It’s excruciating. He feels like someone had punched a hole in his chest and torn out his heart. The ache in his chest surpasses the throbbing in his head. 

Matt feels like he's going to cry, the desire to curl up into a ball and disappear overwhelming him and he wants to cry. 

How did he even get here? 

Matt doesn't remember most of last night, little snippets here and there. He remembers your Instagram post, the cutest fucking picture he's ever seen of you holding and ice cream cone and laughing, a smudge of the frozen treat dotted on your nose. He remembers grabbing a bottle the moment he got home. He remembers Noah and Elias, remembers seeing their lips moving, but doesn't remember what they said.

Before he can stop it, there are tears slipping down his cheeks. Matt is so fucking sick of crying. He's tired of feeling like this. 

And he hates that he knows that it's his own damn fault. 

The idea of seeing you again - of you seeing him like this - makes his skin crawl. He promised to leave you alone after the game, and he’s ashamed that all it took was an Instagram post and a little too much liquor for him to come crawling back. 

The selfish part of him pipes up again. You can't help it. You love her. She's yours. 

Being here, in your apartment, your bedroom, makes Matt dizzy. He needs to leave. Now. 

He’s in such a rush to leave, roughly wiping at the tears on his face, he almost doesn't notice the pair of pills on the nightstand, a glass of water set on a coaster beside them. He hesitates for a moment, but decides that he doesn't want to feel like a trainwreck for the rest of the day, and downs the pills with a gulp of water. 

There's clattering in the kitchen, preventing him from a stealthy escape. Matt is shocked when you don't let him leave, head spinning with exhaustion and confusion and really - just your presence. He can't stop staring at you. Even like this, in a hoodie and leggings, Matt thinks you're the most beautiful fucking thing he's ever seen. 

This is too domestic. He shouldn't be here. This is too intimate. Too much. 

This isn't for you. Brady is the one who should be here. Matt flinches when the thought slithers into his head, but before he can make it out the door, you're turning from the stove and practically yelling at him to sit. You sound like his mom, he thinks, but sits anyways. 

When you ask him about Autumn, Matt thinks he might die. Right then and there, he wishes the floor would swallow him whole. But instead of that happening, his stupid fucking mouth moves to vomit out the words before his brain catches up. “I was sick of seeing him hurt you, I watched him hurt you for so long, Y/N, I held you while you cried and I - I never want to be the one to make you feel like that.” 

This was the most you'd spoken in months, and even through the pain of seeing you again, Matt can't help but be overcome with relief. You didn't hate him. Matt feels dazed through the rest of the conversation, just barely focusing as a result of your presence addling his brain even as you snap at him to shut up. Until - until - 

“..Brady and I are not together…he’s not it for me.” 

Matt freezes, the words rattling inside his skull.

Not it for me not it for me not it for me 

Matt shoves half a piece of French toast in his mouth, barely chewing it before swallowing and repeating your words back to him. You laugh at his bewilderment, your fingers curling around his own as you speak. 

He's going to kill Brady, he decides as he finishes off the rest of his toast, immediately. His little brother is a menace and it’s finally going to catch up to him. 

But he needs to hear you say it first. He needs it.

Then Matt is tugging you to stand up, and your hands are wrapping around his neck as he gets closer. 

And you say it. 

“I love you too Matty.” 

And then he's kissing you. 

Finally - finally - he's kissing you and you love him.

You love him. 

Matt feels like he wants to cry again, this time for a completely different reason. The pain he'd felt this morning starts to drain away as you press yourself closer to him, hand slipping up to card through his curls. He pulls back to look at you for a moment, grin so wide he thinks his face might break. He leans in again, giving you one, two, three, four more kisses. With every kiss, Matt feels a piece of his heart returning to its place. 

“Say it again,” he pleads, eyes fluttering closed as you whisper against his lips. 

“I love you, Matthew, more than anything, I love you.” 

And later, when you're giggling against his mouth on the couch as his fingers graze your ticklish sides and you're whispering the three words over and over and over again, he knows it's true. 

He's it for you, you're it for him. 

Matt loves you. 

But more importantly, you love him.

FIN (for real this time)

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Could you write a jealous timmy fic pls?

AHHH so this is pretty much pure fluff lol I feel like there’s a lot of angsty jealousy fics out there so I wanted to try and do something a little different. hope you guys like it!! ☺️💛

Jealous? (T.C.)

(cursing, smut, flufffff)

“Baby, I’m late! I gotta run,” you giggled, pressing the puckered lips of your doting boyfriend away as you pulled on your shoes.

“Ughhh fineeeee,” Timothée whined, following you to the door like a puppy. “Have a good day, baby doll.”

You grinned, pecking his lips. “You too, cutie.”

You’d been filming intermittently for the past few months on a local indie project. It was hard not to be daunted by Timothée’s big name films, but your heart was in dinky, little indie projects with weird motifs, and you were perfectly content to stay in your niche acting there in New York. It kept you close to him.

You’d only been together for about six months, but you could tell that this wasn’t a short term type thing. This was your first project since you and Timothée had gotten together, and he’d already been incredibly supportive every step of the way. It was almost like you had your own personal cheerleader every day.

Once you made it to the studio, you realized you had missed a text from Timmy.

T💕: “u forgot ur lunch :(“

You: “dang it :/ I’m sure I can find something around here tho”

You slipped your phone back into your pocket, heading into your dressing room to get your hair and makeup done for the day. About halfway through, your director knocked on the door and popped his head inside. He was all smiles, eager to get into the scenes for the day. “Hey, Y/N! Just wanted to let you know we are starting with 32 today!”

“Great, thank you, Derek!” you responded, grabbing up your script in between your makeup artist’s brush strokes. You flipped through the marked up pages, landing on the scene.

“Ooh, you’ll need some extra setting spray today!” sang Marrissa, giving you a playful wink as she finished up the avant-garde paint job on your face and began setting it with powder.

After getting dressed, you strode out to the set, feeling excited and confident for the day’s shoot. The schedule was packed, but you were ready for it.

•••

It was less than an hour after you had left that Timothée became bored. You’d left him a grocery list, but he couldn’t imagine how dreary the supermarket aisles would be without your puns and odd-ball fun facts about preservatives. He smiled to himself, feeling a bit silly for missing you so much.

He decided that he’d go pick up lunch from your favorite restaurant and bring it to you since you’d left your lunch at home; he knew how rough catered lunches could be at times.

It was about noon when he arrived at the studio, entering quietly as he knew they were likely filming somewhere nearby. He greeted the staff he passed, some looking at him with wide eyes and making him chuckle to himself a bit, but most had seen him with you before. He was instructed to the set and eventually found his way to you. What he was greeted with, however, stopped him dead in his tracks.

You were practically naked, your body only draped in a sheer, flowy gown that left little to the imagination. An actor circled you, his eyes hungry and predatory. In a snap of movement, he was on you. Timothée watched in shock as he gripped your throat, feverishly kissing you. You, completely immersed in character, reciprocated, releasing a soft whine audible to the crew.

And Timothée.

He, of course, logically knew you were simply acting in a role, but to see such a thing made his stomach twist and ache. Half of him was astounded by your talent and beauty, but it was nearly completely overshadowed by his jealousy.

An abrupt call of “CUT!” pulled him from the trance, both you and the actor stepping away from each other. It took you a few moments to notice him, but, the moment you did, your face lit up, and you hurried over to him.

“Oh my goodness! What are you doing here, mon amour,” you grinned, pulling him into a quick kiss. He smiled back, but you instantly could see it was a bit forced. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Timothée shook his head, presenting your lunch to you. “I just brought you food! I was worried you wouldn’t find anything around here, and I wanted to see you,” he confessed, blushing a bit.

You tilted your head. “Thank you, Timo. That’s very sweet, but what’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing. Nothing’s wrong!”

“Mm, never play poker,” you teased, continuing to press his buttons.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s- honestly, it’s stupid. Can we go to your room?”

Suddenly, it clicked. “Oh my god, it was the scene, wasn’t it?” you gasped, leading him to your room and closing the door behind you.

“Y/N…” he warned.

“It totally was!! Babe, you kiss other actors all the time; you know how it is!”

“Okay, yeah, but- I just, ya know, haven’t seen you do it before!! It was just a little.. startling I guess,” he stuttered, clearly flustered and defensive, his arms crossed over his chest. “I mean, you don’t dress like this at home!”

You set your lunch down, letting out a snort. “Darling, I’m also not typically the damned ghost of a duke’s daughter at home either,” you deadpanned, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms wrapped instinctually around your waist, pulling you close. “Are you jealous, Timothée?” You wore a cocky grin, finding him incredibly endearing.

“I just don’t like seeing other guys all over my girl; is that a crime?” he whined, making pouty faces at you and making you giggle. He wasn’t one to be upset over much for very long.

“Mm, I love when you call me that,” you sighed, biting your lip at him.

He very promptly reacted to your shift in tone, raising a brow at you. “Don’t start anything you can’t finish, doll.” His voice was quiet and low, making you grin.

“Oh, you’ll finish, alright.” His eyes went wide as you pushed him back onto the couch with a giggle, placing yourself in his lap and tugging his bottom lip between your teeth.

“You’re so baadddd,” he sang, giving your ass a playful squeeze. You rocked against his growing bulge, pulling him into a hungry kiss. Your costume pooled around you both as you continued to grind against him; the thrill of the possibility of getting caught spurred you on, much to Timothée’s delight. His lips latched onto your throat eagerly. He wished he could leave a little sign to remind your scene partner of his place but decided against it in fear of you getting scolded.

“Only for you, babe,” you hummed. In a flurry of fabrics, you slipped down the floor, kneeling between his spread legs.

Timmy was pleasantly surprised, chewing on his lip as you made quick work of his belt and fly. He was already incredibly turned on. You removed his length from his jeans, pumping him up and down while gazing up at him. “Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped, sliding down in his seat. You took him into your mouth, knowing you didn’t have as much time as you’d like. You circled your tongue around his sensitive head, relishing the soft groan he let out. You licked a wide stripe along the underside, feeling him twitch in your hand. The gratification of watching him feel so good was nearly enough to get you off all on its own.

He gently gathered your hair, holding it out of your face as you began to bob your head up and down his length. “Holy shit, baby. Ugh, your mouth..” he babbled mindlessly, hips twitching up toward you every so often. You weren’t able to fit all of him into your mouth, so your hands aided in the effort, one following your lips while the other squeezed his thigh or roamed over his stomach occasionally. Feeling warmed up, you pressed yourself further, taking him down your throat until you managed to reach his base. You held for as long as you could before pulling back, gasping for air; he was no easy fit. He cursed, his slick cock twitching against his stomach while you caught your breath. He bit the back of his hand to keep from getting too loud. You quickly went back to work, sensing he was getting closer.

You watched his pretty, hazel eyes roll back as you sped up. “Fu-fuck, Y/N, don’t stop,” he whimpered, his free hand tugging at his own hair as he tumbled toward his climax. Suddenly, his whole body went tense, his head falling back in a silent shout as he spilled his lust into your waiting mouth. You did you best to swallow all he had to give, not wanting to make a mess. He trembled softly and let out sighs as he came down from his high. You pulled off of him with a little pop, biting your lip up at him while he tucked himself back into his jeans. You pulled yourself back up onto the couch next to him, grabbing his chin and pulling him into a lustful kiss.

“See? No reason to be jealous,” you purred, bumping his nose with your own.

“Jesus…” he panted, laughing and running his hands over his face as he soaked in what had just happened. “You’re something else.”

You giggled and hopped up, wiping away your watery eyes in the mirror, readjusting your costume, and drinking some water; you hoped your voice wouldn’t be too hoarse for your next scenes.

Timmy followed after you like a little puppy, wrapping himself around you from behind. He was always so cuddly after an orgasm. “Mmmm, I’d love to return the favor,” he hummed, pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders.

You grinned, leaning back into him. “Ugh, I wish. But I have to get back to set now, my love.” He stuck out his bottom lip, pouting at you through the mirror. “You’ll have to make it up to me later.”

He walked you back to set, his fingers tangled with yours and a little smug smile on his face; anyone could have guessed he just got some.

“I’ll see you later tonight,” he hummed, smiling like a fool. You stood on your toes to peck his lips, but the moment you pulled away, he pulled you right back again, locking lips with you heatedly for a few seconds more. You blushed hotly, hearing a few whistles coming from the cast and crew. It was only after he pulled away and headed for the door that you saw your scene mate standing a few feet away.

[softkuna]

playlist

›  𝚋𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚘

› 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚢. 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝.

›  𝟸𝟷𝟿𝟻𝚔

You had a shit day. You got pegged in the face with a volleyball so hard, you could practically taste the concussion as you sprawled backwards. Luckily, the medic ok’d you to keep playing. Unluckily, the whole ordeal happened right in front of a pro team’s scouting manager. The embarrassment alone made you want to hide under a rock until next season. To make it all sting just a little bit more, Bokuto and Kuroo had their own games to attend, so it wasn’t like you could curl up in Kuroo’s dorm like you might’ve before. Bokuto was only in town for a few days, too, and you were certain he’d be practicing or playing the whole weekend. So instead, you sigh as you walk onto the train by campus, shooting a text to the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum.

🗨️We lost :( I think I broke my nose. And my careeeeeeer

  Bokuto’s fingers rapid-fire replied, followed my Kuroo’s more casual pace.

  🗯️BROKEN NOSE?!! ARE YOU OK???

🗯️Wait how did u lose? Aren’t they good luck????

💬That’s a broken leg, bruh.

💬Sorry babe. You’re not concussed, though, right?

🗨️I’m fine ^^” just pulled a hina

🗯️Hows a broken leg good luck? U cant play on that THAT SHIT HURTS 😱 😱

🗨️👀 👀 👀

🗨️Bo pls

  As you sat on the train, you quietly snorted to yourself. Bokuto was an amazing player and an even better boyfriend, but sometimes you thought his muscles squeezed out a braincell or two.

💬Saw the clip on twitter. hows your face? I’m sure its still hot

  You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. Kuroo, flirtatious as always, but your reflexive smile matched the tone of your text.

🗨️If hot = busted, then sure 🙄

🗯️HEY UR HOT 😘 😘 SHUDDUP

  By the way their texts disjointedly pieced together before coming to a halt, you knew their matches started. You locked your screen with a sigh. Whether it was the ace’s ADHD-induced impulse thoughts or the blocker’s humorously blunt honesty, the two had always managed to spike your spirits high and block the anxieties that crept over the net. Without their distractions, the day replayed in 4K across the theater of your mind. Back slumped against the seat, you could feel the heaviness of it drag you down to the ocean floor.

  But now here you were, walking to your apartment with no reprieve from the disappointment. Rather than doing your adult responsibilities like clean, cook, or generally care past a shower, you slept. It was a deep, blank sleep. The type where you know you’d wake up feeling that eerie calm in the dead of night.

    Brightness blared next to your pillow – invading your vision as it violently vibrated against your hand. A loud ring attacked your half-concious hearing, jolting your heart like a jumpstarted engine. Quick reflexes enacted before you could stop the near Olympic vault of your phone into the wall across the bed.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me… who the hell….” You tear the blankets off, shivering at the cold as you pick the device back up. Thank your lord and savior, Asahi, for gifting you an Otter Box for Christmas.

  A gentle gasp left your lips as you saw a slew of missed texts from the dynamic duo. Oh no. Oh no. You felt horrendous. Your phone lit up as a photo of Kuroo with a French fry up his nose vibrated to life.

  As fast as your fingers could, you slid to answer, “He-“

  “-LLO WE ARE OUTSIDE ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!” Bokuto hollered into the mic, practically blowing out the speaker with sheer vocal force.

  “Holy shit, Bo! What? What do you mean?” Cautiously, the screen was brought closer to your cheek again, ghosting about a centimeter for your hearing’s safety.

  “Don’t you check your phone, hot-stuff? We’re going for a drive,” Kuroo honked the horn, echoing through the window and phone.

  Sure enough, the string of texts was about a drive and a half-planned plan of action. Thrilled enthusiasm rippled through you. You didn’t even think you’d get to see Bokuto this visit let alone with Kuroo! Praise the scheduling gods!

  The phone squished between your shoulder and ear as hands searched for an outfit that wasn’t your hoe shorts and sports bra. You threw on Bokuto’s old Ace’s Way shirt, and on top a near ancient Nekoma varsity jacket. Both items of which were left in your apartment from a get together nearly a year ago, “I’ll be out in a sec!”

  College was difficult. Especially when each of you had gone in somewhat different directions after high school. Kuroo, like yourself, played volleyball in university. And like yourself, nearly ripped his hair out when experiencing the hell that was Macroeconomics with Professor Mori. Bokuto was scouted play volleyball professionally, popping in and out of Tokyo to visit you two. At some point along the way and a slew of confusing budding emotions later, the three of you dove head first into a lovingly symbiotic relationship. It was hard when each of your schedules were chaotic, but worked out for the best as you all strove for your own goals while cheering each other on.

  You grabbed your bag of random things including underwear, extra clothes, and some money.  You never knew with the two of them what may happen and you learned from one wild trip to Osaka that Bokuto’s sense of direction was about as bad as you’d think it’d be.

  Half jogging, you rolled your eyes to the red corvette. Kuroo loved that thing way too much. Through the window, you could see Bokuto lean across the console to open the back driver-side door for you. The grin he wore could’ve fueled the sun itself, “BABE! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! EDGE-LINE STRAIGHT SHOT! WER’RE GOING ON AN ADVENTURE,” His muscular arm stretched to you, calloused hands reaching for you to grab.

  He pulled you you between the seats for a  bear hug, wide chest nearly eating you whole. He was as toasty as always. Or maybe it was just your cheeks. Either way, you were happy to see him, “Missed you, Bo! Sorry for missing the texts.”

  “You were asleep weren’t ya?” Kuroo turned in the driver side, a hand finding its place at the crown of your hair. The lazy pique of his own lop-sided smile greeted your playful glare, which melted into a nod and a sigh. The look he gave softened at the navy-coated aura rolling off you in waves. He stroked your hair once, poking your cheek as his hand passed it, “You’re here. ‘s all that matters. Now, Hoots over here can shut up about your nose, which is… a little fucked up, wow.”

  “You don’t say?” Your expression dead-panned as Bokuto pulled back from you to examine the swollen cartilage. While you wanted them to see the game, you were absolutely glad that they didn’t. Bokuto would have barreled down the bleachers had he seen your wipe out in person. Actually, you recalled a snap from Atsumu; the camera pointed to the tile of a locker room, Bokuto’s howling in the background with a simple caption of ‘You good?’  

  Pulling away from the ace, you sat back into the middle seat, arms resting on the leather between the passenger and driver sides. Kuroo drove with his hands low on the wheel, long digits thwacking the steering wheel to a silent beat. You glanced between the two, suspicious of their matching expressions. You dared ask, “Why’s it so quiet?”

  “Are you saying-“ Kuroo began.

  “-you want some tuunesss?” Bokuto ended giddily.

  He readily tapped a button on his phone, shielding the screen from you protectively. Kuroo’s gaze darted between the dash screen and the road, waiting for whatever shitpost song Bokuto most definitely was about to put on.

  “Guys… what are you-“

  A record scratch.

  I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me.

  “You’re fucking kidding me! Turn it up, turn it up!” Your hand bulleted to the volume, body squeezing past the two to crank up Cascada’s Everytime We Touch until the windows rattled. Kuroo and Bokuto shared a knowing, toothy smirk. Bingo.

  “Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why

Without you, it's hard to survive!”

  Duetting with the utmost of dramatics, you and Bokuto reached for some imaginary lover escaping in the distance, opposite hand grasping near your hearts. Kuroo snickered, forever and always amused at how weirdly in-sync the two of you could be. Watching both of you thrash wildly together was probably the most endearing thing he’s seen all day.

  The silveret pumped his fists as you both scream-sang the modern masterpiece. His large hands enveloped yours with enough theatrics to shake the emotion into the chorus:  

  “'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling

And every time we kiss, I swear I could fly

Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last

Need you by my side

'Cause every time we touch, I feel the static

And every time we kiss, I reach for the sky

Can't you hear my heart beat so? I can't let you go

Want you in my life!”

  The palm of your hands smacked into their biceps at the last lines, letting the 2000’s synth twinkle into your veins. The vibes in this vehicle were immaculate. Waves that crashed over you, drowning you earlier in the day, receded, leaving sun-warmed sands to dance across. The ones who paved the way were a sarcastic cat and overzealous owl.

  The song was coming to an end and you excitedly whipped between the two, “What’s next?! What’s the playlist?! Link it to me? Please?” You bat your eyelashes at them, Kuroo nudging his chin to the other. The ace hurriedly clicked a few buttons and opened a few apps, radiating delight itself, “Done!” Your phone buzzed with Bokuto’s link. The title of the playlist popped up, overpouring unadulterated admiration into your heart until it warmed up to your cheeks.

  Tunes To Cheer Our Best Babe Up To.

 It was silly, but on brand for the two. All of the songs were added within the last three hours by both boys. Each one of them an absolute banger.

  It was Kuroo’s idea in the beginning. He remembered all the times in high school you’d cry after an exam, near inconsolable until he’d loan you his headphones. Just a few months ago, he caught you throwing it back to the beat of some pop classic after you failed your first semester’s final exams. There’s a video of it somewhere, but he won’t admit to the sin. You know it because you can hear him hyena-laugh in the hallway every so often as Bad Boy riots in the background.

  Bokuto, with all the brilliantly rambunctious enthusiasm the world could give a single human being, added in every song he already had in his likes. All of which he sung with you on every trip until your voices hurt. He even added Mr. Brightside, reminding you of the time he screamed so loud during the chorus that he sounded like a donkey the rest of the day and into his next match. To this very day, the infamous ‘O ᴼO ᵒn ᵉ  TᵒOᵘCʰ’ could be heard in the locker rooms by each teammate in unison.

  You paused as the next song hit, mouth abruptly shutting as the two in the front recited, word-for-word,

  “Man, fuck.”

“What's wrong Bo?”

“Man, these kids, man, talkin' shit, makin' me feel bad.”

“Man, fuck them kids, bro! Look around, hoots, look at life!”

“Man, you're right”

“Mmm, you see? You see this fine bitch right over here?” Kuroo’s long fingers pinched your cheek at the red light, laughing as you jokingly smacked it away.

“Yeah, woah...” Bokuto beamed at you.

“You see these trees man? You see this water?” You snorted as Kuroo’s hand waved to four-way intersection.

“I guess it is okay.”

“Come on, man, you got so much more to appreciate, man.”

“Man you know what, y-you're right...” The words, lyrics or otherwise, still brought a childish scrunch to the ace’s handsome face.

“You damn right I'm right,” Kuroo smirked, taking even the smallest bit of delight out of his perfected timing, “I can't remember a time I was god-damn wrong.”

“Man, thanks, Demon Cat.”

“Hey man, that's what I'm here for.”

  Bokuto, half-joke-half-serious punched Kuroo’s bicep, eliciting a feral smirk as they went into the chorus. Bo’s arms crossed as he shook his shoulders to the beat. Kuroo threw down at the next red light, clapping to each beat. Just as the bass shook your heart in its chest, both players head-banged with all their might, car jerking with the force. You feared for the steering wheel and the threat of an airbag going off when both boys slam-drummed the vehicle’s surface. The sight of the two of them going absolutely feral elicited the brightest cackle from your belly.

  They really knew how to turn your shittiest days into your new favorites. And you’d definitely be revisiting this playlist.

[ivyuns]

violation❆♞♣

hwang hyunjin

genre: angst | bit of fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, mentions of guns, blood, death, pregnancy + not proof read oops lol

A/N: lol hyunjin kinda psycho in this

this was drowning in my drafts since may omg

masterlist

mafia!hyunjin x fembarista!reader

y/f/n = ur fiance’s name

you owned your own cafe in downtown seoul. your customers and employees were always great people and bought positivity around you. it was currently a busy day and everyone was in and out of the main entrance. the employees were trying their best to stay calm and keep a positivity mindset. you however, were distracted by the co-owner, hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin always seemed like that flirty but a suspicious type. everyone told you to stay away from him since you were little but how could you when you two were inseparable. it all started in kindergarten.

you were running around the classroom til your teacher yelled out “stop” and everyone looked at her. you saw a little boy. next to the teacher, waiting to be introduced. “hello kids, we have a new student! please introduce youself.” the teacher says.

“hi im sam hwang from korea. please take care of me” he says softly and hides. the teacher tells him theres nothing to be scared of and let him wonder around the classroom. you went up to him and introduced yourself. “hi sam! my name is y/n kwon. i’m also from korea!”. hyunjins head went up and eyes went big. “y-you’re from korea?!” he stuttered since he was lowkey excited that someone in his class was korean, just like him. you smiled and nodded your head. you grabbed his hand and dragged him to the playground to continue recess.

2 years later in summer, your best friend came over with his parents to tell these news. hyunjin came in your room with a sad smile as you were playing with your stuffed animals. you looked up and smiled at him, “hi hyunjin!” you said cheerfully, obviously in a better mood than him. “y/n, i need to tell you something” he said sadly. he went to go sit across of you and picked up some of the toys around your room.

“i’m moving back to korea.” you stopped your actions after hearing what he said. “moving? why?” you looked up at him. “m-my parents said it’s best for us to go back to korea because we only came here for my dad’s work, but he ended up leaving the job and now we’re going to go back” hyunjin looks up to see tears falling out of your eyes. he went to your side and hugged you, telling you that you’ll be spending quality time before he leaves.

-

after moving back to korea after years hyunjin left you, you opened your own cafe. as your shop was almost completed for the grand opening, hyunjin happened to pass by your shop. he looked through the window and saw a girl that looked so familiar to him.

knocking on the window to get your attention, you go the the door to unlock it and stick your head out of the window. “hyunjin?!” he looks at you with his eyes big. “y/n? what are you doing here?” hyunjin asks. “i recently moved here and now im starting a business” hyunjin nods his head.

“are you looking for any employees?” nodding your head. “yeah but i guess around this area, nobody wants to work at a cafe” you joked. “maybe i can help? i-i mean if you want to” hyunjin laughs. nodding your head, you lead him inside the cafe. hyunjin looks at your artwork and the nicely decorated shop, amazed.

handing a paper that has all the requirements and terms in order to start working here. after hyunjin was done signing it, you looked at the paper and gave him a thumbs up. “looks good! ill give you a call whenever we start” hyunjin nods his head and waves a goodbye to you.as hyunjin exits, he now knows where his target is.

2 hours earlier:

“hwang” chan calls out.

hyunjin looks up from his phone and sees chan carrying files. “remember that girl youd always talk about? kwon y/n? your childhood best friend back in america?” he nods. “apparently her dad is in a gang too and stole our money for whatever reason. so now your mission is to find her, bring her here, and kill her”

hyunjin gulps.‘why? did you do something wrong? what do you have to deal with this? does she know about this?’ all of hyunjins thoughts were about you. “ill do it”he knows he cant do it. but he has to or else he’ll be kicked out of stray kids. after moving back to korea and his parents suddenly passing, he was lonely. until stray kids saved him from being in the dark and invited him to their family. he gladly accepted.

hyunjin goes to his room and does research about you. he finds your instagram and sees that youre opening a cafe around the little area of downtown seoul which was a few hours away from his place. after enough of his little research, he grabs his jacket and heads out to find you.

present time:

the first week of the grand opening was a hassle. the cafe was always packed and made the employees feel stressed. as the cafe was almost settled, you told the workers to take a break as you and hyunjin will do everything else.

finishing an iced americano, you could see from the corner of your eyes and sees hyunjins strange actions. ignoring it, you gave the drink to the correct customer and continued making drinks.

-

closing time finally happened and everyone left out a huge sigh. having a group meeting, you gave everyone their weekly paycheck. “thank you everyone for working hard. i will see you tomorrow morning!” you waved goodbye and smiled. as soon as you saw almost everyone leave, you turned around and started cleaning.

hyunjin goes next to you and helps you clean the counters and machines. “jin, you know you can leave you know?” you told him as hyunjin lets out a chuckle. “nah its alright. plus as the second ceo, i shall help you” hyunjin winks. stopping your actions, you playfully smack hyunjin across his chest. “hey hey, im just joking. but still, after we finish cleaning, ill take you home” “but you said you have an exam tomorrow? shouldnt you be going home and start studying?” you asked. hyunjin nods his head, defeated. “alright you got me. i promise ill take you home another time” nodding your head, he goes and gets his belongings and leaves.

quickly cleaning the shop, you turn off all the lights and lock all of the doors. turning around to see the whole cafe in one point of view, a smile grew on your face. plugging your earphones in to walk home with your music blasting and texting your family group chat.

y/n: on my way home. the cafe was a success this week :)

mum <3: cheers to a successful opening

dad: come home safely, my son in law is waiting for you

smiling from the excitement, you started walking down the street to get to your house. as you entered this street, it was dark with the moonlight shining. feeling someone following you, you turned around and saw nobody. pulling up hyunjins contact on your phone just in case something happened, you continued walking in a fast pace, turning the volume down.

feeling the same aura from before, you quickly pressed the call button but you heard the familiar ringtone.

“sleep tight princess”

you wake up feeling sore and lost of warmth. opening your eyes, youre in a room thats filled with drywalls and a hwang hyunjin to your left, sitting on a chair. “h-hyunjin?” you called out his name. he looks up from your phone after reading every conversation you had that was about him. “the princess has finally awoken from her slumber” hyunjin smirks.

hyunjin gets off of the chair and goes by your side, lifting your chin up. trying to protest only to be stopped as you felt your limbs tied up. “now now princess, no need to get feisty” hyunjin laughs. “what the fuck do you want hyunjin” “hmm? you really dont know?” shaking your head, hyunjin gets up and walks around the room.

“so, youre saying you dont know what your dad has been doing? the fact that he stole money from me just to help you other with the small disgusting shop of yours?” it hurt. both you and hyunjin. hyunjin wanted to give his mission up and hug you, wipe your tears away and apologize. you were more than hurt. more like angry. hyunjin knew you wanted a cafe when you grew up and he supported you more than anything.

“the fuck are you talking about? youre assuming that my dad stole money from you? from what information is getting in that head of yours?” you shouted out. hyunjin grabs his gun and clicks it. you hear the click and your attention is immediately on hyunjin. “h-hyunjin whatever youre wanting to do, put the gun down first” hyunjin closes his eyes as he feels fresh tears escaping and shakes his head.

“hwang hyunjin! do you not know what youre about to do? tell me what you want from us. we’ll give you your money back- anything just dont pull it-” you stopped talking as soon as you see him point the gun at you. “please hyunjin dont. im pregnant-”

he pulled the trigger.

everyone in the house heard the gun go off and goes to the basement. stopping as they heard hyunjins sobs, they see him on his knees, holding your bloody body and cries into your hair.

chan goes to hyunjin and pats him on the back. “you finally did it hwang”

as hyunjin takes his seat during your funeral, he sees your family and y/f/n go up the stage. after each family member said what they had to say about you and your death, as well as your unborn baby, everybody was now crying their eyes out. “my sunshine. thank you for everyone you love feel happy and we are deeply happy that you were able to start your own business. with the past events, i shouldve came by and picked you up from work before i lost both you and our child. without your presence, nothing will bring a smile onto my face. i love you so much kwon y/n, and i hope you fly high with our baby girl”

-

lowering your casket down, everyone leaned on each other, crying after they realized the kwon y/n has suddenly passed for an unknown reason at a young age. hyunjin just leaned on a pole and cried. looking up in the sky, he see something that had a little smile form on his face.

‘you’ll be next, hwang’

hyunjin gets into reality and turns around to see who whispered to him. seeing nobody, hyunjins future is now crumbling.

END <3

tf is the end 🥴

[goryroyalty]

One of *Those* Days

High school au, (though it's never specifically said in the story.) Angst/some fluff.

Depressed Roman, self-deprecating(?) thoughts (Idk, just depressing and insulting thoughts), food mention, only one swear, I think? Did I miss anything?

Roman is having a rough morning and Remus comes to comfort them. (Also, both of them fall somewhere under the non-binary umbrella, though their exact labels are never stated.)

(I'm venting a bit tbh. I don't do this as much anymore, but I used to do it almost everyday. It sucked.)

Copper eyes fluttered open to find their room lit up with early morning light filtering through the gap between the room darkening curtains. Funny, last they remembered it was five in the morning and now- their phone screen lit up- it was almost eight o'clock. The house was silent as their parents had already left for work. They weren't aware their child had only just woke up eight minutes before school started. They had no intention of going either.

Roman sighed, a heavy feeling in their chest, and rolled onto their side. They shoved their phone under their pillow and stared at the wall blankly. Simply rolling over had taken every ounce of motivation they had. Now, all they could do was lie in bed and let their mind wander. The heavy feeling had spread throughout their entire body. It almost hurt. Their thoughts weren't focused on anything particular for a long time, just wandering aimlessly. Their phone vibrated from under the pillow, but they made no effort to grab it. At least not for a while. A few more vibrations later, their arm moved slowly when curiosity gave them some motivation to grab their phone and unlock it.

ChaosBabe (idk, I'm not good at coming up with nicknames)

u not at school 2day?

8:01

btw it/its 2day

8:01

ur missin out on Nerd gettin heated bout the way i txt again

8:03

u ok? pls respond

8:10

Roman thought of words to reply back, but their fingers didn't move to text them. Typing 'Yeah, just want to stay home.' felt like too much work, even just typing a simple yes or no was too much. Roman sighed and exited their messages, clicking on Tumblr. It didn't take long to scroll down to where they had started last night. They went to the top, refreshed a couple times, and exited the app. They stared at their wallpaper, which was Disney themed, of course, until their phone locked. They opened it again and went to Instagram. They scrolled through every social media they had with a blank stare.

15% of battery remaining

Roman dismissed the alert, getting another notification immediately after.

ChaosBabe

Ro, pls let me know if you need anything. I mean it: anything.

12:27

The teen in bed hummed, wondering how it'd passed noon already. Still, they didn't move from where they lie. Well, they did finally roll over onto their other side. They found them-self back on Tumblr again, scrolling through the posts they'd already seen. Their phone screen flashed with the screen that said the phone's type before turning completely black. Roman let out a long sigh and let go of their phone, not caring much when it slid off onto the floor.

'Well, this is pathetic, isn't it?' Roman thought, 'I can't even drag myself out of bed. This is so stupid. Just get up and get going. Why am I so lazy all the time?'

Roman's train of thought continued on that downhill track. Soon, the track ended and it was just free-fall. Tears came to Roman's copper-colored eyes but didn't fall. They felt tired, but sleep did not come. Was it really a sleepy tired, or was it simply just...tired? Roman thought it might be both. Their stomach growled, pulling their thoughts to some coherency again. They focused on food for a few moments before their mind wandered off into a daydream.

The front door opening jump-started Roman's brain. 'Did Dad come home early or is it really already five? I didn't do any chores today. Shit.'

Roman rolled over and buried their face in their pillows, not wanting to hear about how they hadn't done dishes or vacuumed or whatever hadn't visibly been done. 'Maybe, just maybe, he'll think I'm asleep and leave me alone. Or even realize something is wrong and try to comfort me? But what is wrong and how would I want to be comforted by him?'

Roman's bedroom door opened and footsteps neared their bed. They were a bit confused when the person slid in bed beside them until they heard the slight groan as they stretched, "Mm, your bed is so soft. Feels amazing."

Roman relaxed at the realization it was only Remus. They immediately thought how they wanted to turn and cuddle it. They did at least shift onto their back, staring up at the ceiling. Remus draped an arm across them, "So...one of those days? Any way that I can help?"

'Hold me. Drag me out of bed. Slap me. Shake me like a rag doll until I stop this pity party of mine.' Roman replied in their head, but their mouth felt like it couldn't move. They wanted so desperately to say something. Anything at this point. Remus sat up and shifted to look down at them, smiling softly and running a hand through their auburn hair. Roman cringed inside at the realization it was most likely greasy. They hadn't showered for a few days. Same with brushing their teeth. Their breath was going to be awful too. Roman closed their eyes as tears came to them when they thought: 'I'm disgusting.'

"Love, if I ask yes or no questions, will you answer them? You don't have to speak. You can find another way to say yes or no." Remus stroked their jaw, studying them for some movement that could be a reply. Roman's tears disappeared and they focused their thoughts on Remus' words, trying to find some will to move. They shifted their arm to rest their hand on their stomach, tapping their index against it once. "Okay, first let me make sure: what is yes?"

Roman tapped once. Remus nodded and hummed, "And no?"

Roman tapped twice. They felt a little silly if they were honest. Remus kissed their forehead, "Good, good. Okay, have you eaten today?"

Two taps.

"Do you want food?"

Roman hesitated, knowing they needed it but did they really want it? They tapped three times.

"I'll take that as a 'maybe' or 'don't know'. Next question, is there something you want me to do for you?"

Another three taps.

"Cuddle you? Carry you out of bed? Bring in food to you?" Remus rambled off the first ideas that came to its mind.

One tap. Pause. One tap. Pause. Two taps.

Remus lied back down, pulling Roman close and kissing their head a couple times. Roman felt the tears come back again, a couple escaping this time before they went away. They hated how pathetic and lazy they felt. Remus sat up with Roman still in its arms, lifting them up as it got to its feet. Roman wrapped their arms around it and buried their face in its shoulder. "Want food, Ro?"

Roman nodded, relieved at the slight progress already. Remus carried them out to the kitchen and set them on a bar stool, "Know what you want?"

Roman shrugged, looking down at the counter with a feeling of guilt and shame building up inside. Remus rubbed their back, "I'll look at what you have and list stuff off then, yeah? Or do you want to look with me or by yourself?"

Roman bit their lip as it trembled a bit. They rested their arms on the counter and buried their face into them. For the first time all day they spoke, though it was only a whisper: "Sorry."

"It's okay, Love, you don't have to apologize. I promise, I really don't mind." Remus hugged them, kissing their shoulder. "I told you I'd do anything for you. I love you, Roman."

"Love you." Roman whispered back, having to clear their throat due to not using their voice for so long. They sat up a little, "I'll look."

After a while of looking through the fridge and pantry a few times, Roman was finally settled on the bar stool with leftovers in front of them. Remus sat beside them, rubbing their back as they slowly ate. Halfway through, Roman spoke again, "I don't like that feeling. I feel so heavy yet empty at the same time. I can't move or speak or do anything. I hate it. I couldn't even reply to you, even though I really wanted to. Everything just feels...too much. It all feels like too much."

"Do you think you could even just text one letter? I was thinking we could come up with a code for when you felt like this. Like one letter means you want me to leave you alone, another for if you just want me to text or call, and another if you want me to come over. I'm honestly not entirely sure how to help or make it go away, but I'll do whatever you want me to do. I'll always be here for you. No matter what, 'kay? Just say the word and I'll do it."

"Thank you, Remus." Roman hugged it, sniffling a bit. "You're more than I deserve."

"I disagree. I think we're practically perfect for each other." Remus hugged them back tightly.

"Practically perfect in every way." Roman mumbled with a slight chuckle.

"Exactly, Mary Poppins." Remus smiled, "Exactly."

Weird ending, sorry.

[butlerbarb]

Sweets (Leviathan x Reader)

i suppose i should start this blog off with the first fic i posted on ao3!

Staring at yourself in the mirror as you fiddled with your uniform, you sighed. It just didn’t fit right! Diavolo had said he found the one that matched your human world size the closest, but apparently demons and humans were different in more ways than you thought. With another tug at the chest area, you groaned, deeming it good enough for now. You’d get Asmodeus to fix it later.

Exiting your bathroom, you grabbed your D.D.D just as it buzzed to life with a text. Catching Leviathan’s name on screen, you smiled and unlocked your device. Taking a quick look at the text Mammon had sent you – something along the lines of wanting you to skip with him again – before you opened Levi’s.

Leviathan: Gud morning. Are you going to RAD today?

[Y/N]: …I HAVE to go.

Leviathan: Why do you have to go? You’d have a better time skipping school and playing games with me all day.

You rolled your eyes. Really, what was it with these demons and wanting you to skip school? It was everyday that at least one of the more troublesome brothers asked you to skip and do something else with them. Even if some days you wanted to skip, you knew Lucifer would have you hide if he did, so you tended to avoid any of their persuasion.

[Y/N]: I AM a student, after all.

Hitting send on the text, you clicked your phone off and shoved it into your pocket. Pulling the door to your room open, you were immediately greeted by Mammon, fist already raised into the air to knock on your door. His eyes went wide, and he laughed, his hand falling and landing on his hips in typical Mammon fashion. His shocked expression quickly morphed into a grin that oozed confidence, again, typical Mammon fashion.

“Are you psychic now, Human? Or were you just that excited to see the GREAT Mammon, that you came rushing out of your room?” Mammon spoke, as cheerful and loud as ever. You stared at him, shaking your head at his overflowing confidence, he was very annoyingly cute.

“Yes, Mammon, I was just SO excited to see you this morning I came rushing out of my room as soon as I heard your footsteps.” You spoke sarcastically, hoping Mammon would catch it. He didn’t. Instead, your words only seemed to inflate his ego more. You watched in disbelief as his grin grew wider and a small blush dusted his cheeks.

“Ha-ha! Of course, ya’d be excited to see me! I am the GREAT Mammon, after all!” He boasted again, leaning down slightly towards you. You laughed, rolling your eyes again and reaching a hand towards his waiting head. You gave his hair a ruffle, bushing a part of it out of his eyes.

“Yes, yes of course, you are very great, Mammon. Now let’s go to breakfast please, I’m starving.” Mammon let out a quiet, happy cheer at your praise, refusing to pull away from your hand until you pushed him away. He took off down the hall, leaving you to walk by yourself, to which you wonder what the point of him coming to your room was anyway. With a shake of your head, you pulled your phone out of your pocket as it buzzed again.

Leviathan: OOH, GOODY 2 SHOES OVER HERE

You snorted at the text, getting read to type a reply when another two texts popped in from Leviathan.

Leviathan: Well, go on and go if you’re gonna go. Come back home quickly tho. Leviathan: I can’t do any of the co-op dungeons by myself, you know.

You laughed, smiling to yourself as you walked down the stairs to the first floor. You had forgotten that Leviathan had made you play on of his PC games with you the other day, claiming that it wasn’t cause he liked you, he just need someone to do the two player dungeons with and you were the most reasonable choice. He was cute.

[Y/N]: Roger, boss! <3

You watched in amusement as he read the text immediately and the three dots popped up, disappeared, popped up a second time and then disappeared again. Leviathan never ended up replying, much to your amusement, making you think he simply went into emotional overdrive and shut down. He was really cute.

You pocketed your phone right as you stepped into the dining room. Claiming the seat in between Mammon and Beelzebub, you greeted everyone at the table and began piling some food onto your plate. Beelzebub always made comments about how little you ate – although everyone ate very little compared to him – not realized that you couldn’t eat most of the stuff demons ate. Monkey brains, spider legs, you swore you caught Satan downing a vial of poison before. Demons ate things you were sure would kill you in the most painful way possible.

After breakfast, Mammon and Beelzebub accompanied you to your class – Mammon unwillingly, of course – and you spent most of the morning trying to get both brothers to focus on their work instead of slacking off. You felt your phone buzz a few times, but you made sure not to make a habit of checking your phone in class, you didn’t want your teachers, and subsequently Lucifer, getting mad at you.

Around lunchtime was when you finally pulled out your phone at Mammon’s insistence. He demanded you check out this new game he had playing, claiming you would like it as well. You noted that you had a few texts from some demon friends the brothers said would be okay for you to talk to, most just asking if you were busy after school, wanting to hang out. You would have, had you not had plans with Leviathan. Texting them back, telling them you were busy, you then proceeded to the app store to download the game Mammon wanted you to.

You opened it up, both Mammon and Beelzebub now leaning over your shoulder to watch you play. It was a rhythm game focusing on cute, demon idol girls. It also contained gacha elements, so you knew this was just another game Mammon would blow all his money on until he got bored. It was fun, and you had no trouble picking up how to play, having fallen victim to plenty of rhythm games back in the human world.

Mammon complained as you easily S-ranked even the hardest difficulties, claiming he was only able to do up to normal, hard on some songs. Beelzebub laughed at him, claiming he just didn’t have any rhythm himself, which of course, set Mammon off on a tyrant. You ignored Mammon’s insistent yelling, tuning both brothers out as you focused on a particularly difficult song. You tuned them back in once you were finished, only to watch as Beelzebub full-combo-ed an especially difficult song on max difficulty. You high-fived the younger brother, laughing as Mammon complained in the background.

Turning back to your phone, you caught a glimpse of a notification banner sliding off-screen. Closing the rhythm game, you opened your messages, seeing Leviathan’s name at the top. Seeing as he completely ignored your last message made you chuckle.

Leviathan: What’s uuuup? Ur still at RAD, rite? Could you hit up Lament and get some Bufo Egg Milk Tea for me on your way home?

Smirking to yourself, you typed out your reply:

[Y/N]: My services do not go free of charge

You could feel Levi rolling his eyes at you as he typed his response. Once Levi had started warming up to you after making a pact with him, you realized he enjoyed it when you gave him playful responses and teased him lightly. He was always annoyed when his brothers did it, but for some reason played along when it was you.

Leviathan: FINE, be that way [Y/N], I’ll give you some cash so you can get something for yourself, too. I’m still gonna ask you to pay me back tho lol. Thanks in advance 👍

[Y/N]: Aw, you’re the best Levi! I’ll be home in a little, you better have snacks ready :3

After your conversation with Levi, the bell rang for the end of lunch. You headed back to your classroom with both brothers in tow, happily anticipating the end of the day. Your last classes were fairly laid back, meaning time passed by in a blur. Once you and everyone else were released, you insisted Mammon and Beelzebub take you to Lament, knowing you’d probably get lost on your own. You made the trip as quick as possible, knowing if you stayed there for any longer than necessary Beelzebub would try to order everything in the café. You got what Levi wanted, and a snack and drink for yourself with the money he sent you. Mammon demanded you buy him something as well and pouted when you told him you only had the money Levi lent you.

After waiting for an extra 15 minutes so Beelzebub could get his absolutely massive order, the three of you headed back to the House of Lamentation. You quickly ditched the second- and sixth-born brothers in favour of the third-born. You knocked on his door gingerly, entering quickly after you recited the secret password. Leviathan was reclined on his bed, phone in hand as he gazed up at you. He held his hand out expectantly, and you took the hint to hand him his drink. He shifted over slightly in the bed, allowing you room to scooch in beside him.

“What’d you get?” He asked, gesturing to the drink and paper bag you held in your hand. You only shrugged in response; you weren’t really sure what you got yourself. Mammon had pointed out the things that were most “human-friendly,” so you just got that. Explaining that to Levi, he only nodded in response before going back to his phone. You took an experimental sip of your drink, slightly scared about what it would do to you, only to find that it was actually surprisingly good!

You hummed happily as you continued to sip on your drink as Leviathan laughed beside you. Taking the pastry you got out its bag, you started at it in slight horror. It looked… strange to say the least. It was a cupcake that you had thought was adorned with a fondant eyeball and icing. As it turned out, this guess was very, very wrong. The eye seemed to follow you as you moved it around and to your utmost horror, it blinked. Had you not been in Leviathan’s room, you most likely would have thrown it across the room. With a grimace, you held it out to the demon beside you.

“Is this like… safe for me to eat? It feels like it’s gonna attack me if I do…” You spoke quietly, eyeing the cupcake warily. Leviathan laughed at your question, grabbing your wrist to bring the item closer to his face. He sniffed it, before letting go of your hand and shaking his head.

“Nah, I think you’ll be fine, lol. I think it’s chocolate.” He replied, using his pinky finger to swipe a bit of the icing off of it. Bringing it to his mouth, he nodded in confirmation as he licked the sweet icing off his finger.

“Yeah that’s chocolate. The eye won’t hurt you, it’s not actually real.”

“But…”

“No buts! Just eat it or go give it to Beel.”

With a sigh, you hesitantly brought the dessert to your mouth. Taking a small bite out of it, your eyes lit up at the taste. Surprisingly, it was just as good at the drink! You happily took a bigger bite, no longer feeling creeped out by how it was seemingly living, you were free to enjoy how yummy it was.

“See? I told you it was good, normie.” Leviathan laughed, his hand reaching out to pick off a piece of the actually cake for himself. He hummed to himself, muttering under his breath about telling the guys on the forums to check this out. You snorted, was all that all he was thinking about? People he only knew through the internet? He was so lame, it was cute.

“What does your drink taste like?” You asked, now suddenly curious of the cup he held in his hand. His eyes widened as you reached out to grab it from him, jerking his arm away from you. You frowned, reaching out further for it, only to have him pull it further away from you. This continued until you were practically on top of him, yet he was still just barely able to hold it out of your reach.

“Levi,” you whined, sprawling yourself on top of him as you tried to reach for his drink. “Let me have a taste!”

“No way! That’d be like, an indirect kiss or something!” He protested. At his words, you practically deadpanned, staring him right in the face. No longer reaching for the drink, you let your hands fall to his chest as you continued staring at him. You watched as very noticeable blush dusted his cheeks a bright red colour, as well as the tips of his ears.

“What? Quit staring at me like that!” He pouted, turning his face away from you in an attempt to cover his quickly darkening blush. You nudged his chin with your hand, forcing his gaze back onto you. You stared down at him until he finally met your eyes again, a pout on his lips. God, when he looked like this you could have sworn, he was the Avatar of Lust, not the Avatar of Envy.

“You’re so worried about an indirect kiss, does that mean you’ve never actually kissed someone, Levi?” You asked quietly, leaning down closer to the demon underneath you, watching him squirm in panic at your question. He refused to meet your eyes, the colour on his ears darkening more than you ever thought possible. Although, seeing as you were in the realm of demons, you supposed anything could be possible now.

“Quit it…” Leviathan muttered sheepishly, his bottom lip jutting out more and more. Moving your hand from his chin, you slide it up the side of his face and into his hair. Just like his older brother, Leviathan was weak to having his head rubbed and hair played with.

“I’ll stop if you want me to, Levi. I won’t use the pact to make you stay if you don’t want to.” You offered, backing off slightly and getting ready to remove yourself from him. He stopped you, however, his hands shyly resting on your hips to keep you in place. He refused to meet your gaze, but you could tell by the way his fingers dug into you slightly that he didn’t want you to leave.

“Tell me what you want, Levi.” You teased, using the hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair to trace the side of his face. The embarrassed glare he shot at you was so adorable, you almost cooed at him like a child, but you knew that would only ruin the mood. You slowly dragged your hand from his cheeks to his lips, using your thumb to pull at his bottom lip slightly. The noise that left his mouth, similar to that of a kitten, was adorable to say the least, and you could feel yourself swooning at his cuteness.

“Levi, you’re so cute.” You whispered, leaning down to ever so slightly brush your lips against his, watching in amusement as he stretched to fully connect your lips with his. You moved to brush your lips against his again, but right before you could, you swerved to the left slightly. Grabbing his once discarded milk tea and bringing the straw to your lips, you took a sip before scowling at the taste. You assumed it was probably because of the weird, slimy texture of the Bufo eggs, but something about it was off-putting.

From underneath you, Leviathan groaned, frowning up at you. You feigned innocence, tilting your head to the side as if to ask did I do something wrong? Before you could react to anything, Levi’s hands that were once on your waist moved to cup your cheeks in the blink of an eye. He then, suddenly feeling bold you assumed, brought your lips to his forcefully. The kiss was awkward, clearly showing his inexperience, but it made it more endearing to you.

Leviathan, the socially awkward, shut it nerd, was willingly giving you, a human, his first kiss. This was the best day of your life, really. You sure hoped Levi was enjoying it as much as you were, if not you were sure the situation would quickly become awkward. You definitely didn’t want this to ruin the friendship you had with him, and his brothers as well.

Demons, as you just found out, could hold their breath much longer than humans. When you pulled away from him, he was nowhere near as out of breath as you were, but you could probably blame that on your own excitement and the way he kissed you without warning. You weren’t complaining, though, you liked the bolder, confident side of the normally awkward and sheepish demon.

Leviathan frowned up at you, obviously upset that you pulled away when he wasn’t finished. You rolled your eyes at him, poking his cheek lightly as he tried to pull you back down to him. You rolled off of him, curling into his side. He sighed, wrapping one arm around you as his other grabbed his previously discarded drink. You didn’t realize when you had let go of it, more than likely sometime when he was kissing you.

“Weren’t we supposed to be playing games?” You asked, peering up at him from under your lashes. He glanced down at you, a hint of a smile on his face as he shook his head at you.

“We were, but you seemed more interested in stealing my drink from me. Can’t believe I let a normie like you kiss me.” He replied, setting his drink down of his nightstand to grab his phone. You watched as he loaded up a website, one you certainly didn’t recognize, and began furiously typing on his phone. You snorted at his response, batting him lightly on the chest.

“Oh please, Levi, you’re the one that kissed me. You’re so cute when you’re confident, by the way.” Levi’s typing slowed to a stop at your words, his cheeks flaring to life once again. He refused to look at you, his eyes staying focused on his phone screen as he tried to finish what he was typing.

“Whatever, it’s not my fault you teased me like that.” He spoke, trying to sound as confident as possible, although you knew he was freaking out on the inside. He blew a strand of hair out of his eyes, the arm he had wrapped around you tightening slightly. He was embarrassed for sure, but you found it all the cuter.

Peeking at his phone, you caught a brief glance of what Levi was typing and had to suppress a laugh.

You guys aren’t gonna believe but totally just kissed a super cute waifu! LMAO!

You didn’t know what a “waifu” was or why it was a “LMAO” moment, but it didn’t really bother you.

Leviathan really was the cutest.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go 

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James 😈

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I���m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

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@hommoturttle @courtneychicken @vidzbyemz @vicmc624 @shawnie--jo @redbarn1995 @learisa @austynparksandpizza @ddowii

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[dickd0c]

STRIKE

CHAPTER SIXTEEN — “day four, pt one”

Nic woke up at about 11:00 A.M. the next day. She checked her phone and frowned seeing how late it was, rolling over to turn onto her other side.

On the other side of the bed, Alpha was sound asleep. Nic had noticed for the past few nights that he never held her or cuddled when they went to sleep. It was like while they were having sex—or more specifically, while he was teasing her, considering he hadn't given her a single orgasm yet—he was openly flirty and humorous among other things, but as soon as they were having any other interaction, he was back to cold and distant.

Nic rolled her eyes. She was in no mood to deal with his volatile behavior. She swung her legs off the edge of the bed and plopped down onto the hardwood floor, adjusting her wrinkled clothes before heading to her room. There, she brushed her teeth and took a refreshing shower. Nic hadn't told anyone, but she had applied for a job interview a few days back, and the interview was today. Despite waking up so late, she still had time to make it if she didn't stall.

Nic quickly dressed herself in a white blouse, black pencil skirt, and a blazer. She grimaced at the blazer before putting it on, noting to herself that she should get a new one—she'd had that one since her debating days in high school.

Slipping on some modest heels and checking to make sure her hair wasn't too unruly, she grabbed her phone and portfolio folder. Nic quietly walked out of her bedroom and into the kitchen where Tank was leaning against the island shirtless. When he saw her walk in, he dragged his eyes up and down, quirking an eyebrow.

"Why are you dressed like that?" he asked her, setting his phone to the side.

"Job interview," Nic replied shortly, her voice giving away her nerves. She flattened her palms out on the sides of her skirt to hide their slight shaking. She really wanted this job—as nice as it was to simply lounge around the apartment all the time, she wanted to get out sometimes too.

"Oh, what's it for?" Tank smirked.

Nic opened her mouth, but she was interrupted by the rumbling of her stomach. Tank moved around the island to get to the fridge, pulling out some milk and grabbing the box of cereal that was already sitting there. Nic smiled at him gratefully.

"It's for this European makeup company. They have a location pretty close by, and they're looking for lab assistants," Nic said, smiling nervously as she grabbed the bowl of cereal from Tank and set it down in front of her on the island.

"Oh, I think I vaguely remember you telling me you do science shit in college. What's your major again?"

"Material sciences," Nic replied, muffled by the bowl she pressed to her lips to down the rest of her cereal.

"Sounds smart," Tank said thickly, a goofy grin on his lips.

Nic rolled her eyes, smiling as she placed her bowl in the sink. "I have to leave now, though. Would you let everyone know I'll be back in maybe two hours?" she asked, straightening her skirt.

"Sure," Tank shrugged. "I think everyone decided to sleep in, they might not even be up when you get home."

With a nod, Nic was out the door with her phone clutched tightly, walking down the steps of the apartment building to see her Uber was already waiting for her. She opened the door to the back and climbed in rather ungracefully, giving a small smile to the driver before he took off. Nic spent the twenty-five minute ride rubbing her sweating palms on the side of her dress, glancing out the window every five seconds expecting to arrive. She'd occasionally pick up her phone to aimlessly text someone or play a stupid game, but then she'd drop it and go back to being nervous. She opened up her portfolio and checked to make sure her resume, references, pens, and notepad were all in there, and then ten minutes later she did the exact same thing again.

Nic's phone vibrated against her thigh, and she picked it up instantly. What if the company was calling to tell her the interview was off?

She looked at the screen to see that Athena was texting her, and sighed out of semi-relief. Using her thumb, she slid up on the screen to see the message.

Athena Received 12:06 PM good luck bitch! ur gonna kill it

Nic grinned, shaking her head.

Athena Sent 12:06 PM i'm so ducking nervous literally shoot me

Athena Received 12:06 PM they'd be idiots not to take u. tho idk how ur lab skills are but still

Nic sighed, glancing out the window. As she looked back down at her phone to respond, the speeding car hit what must have been a road bump, making her phone fumble in her hands before it flew to her feet. The driver didn't even mumble an apology as Nic rolled her eyes and bent down to grab it, seeing the screen was still on messaging. She typed out a quick "i don't deserve you babe" and pressed send, turning her phone off and sliding it inside her portfolio.

A little later, the phone vibrated again. She pulled it out and swiped the screen open.

Alpha Received 12:09 PM what?

Nic frowned, wondering what his issue was. That was until she looked up just a bit to see the very first message in their conversation, sent by her just moments ago.

Nic's jaw dropped open as her fingers fumbled to type out a response.

Alpha Sent 12:10 PM shit. sent that to the wrong person sorry

He responded quickly.

Alpha Received 12:10 PM sure you did

Alpha Sent 12:11 PM it wasn't for you

Alpha Received 12:11 PM are you really that insecure around me

Nic rolled her eyes and turned her phone off. She was already nervous, so she didn't need Alpha making her annoyed too. A minute later, when he probably realized she wasn't responding, her phone buzzed with another text from him.

Alpha Received 12:12 PM what time is your interview?

Alpha Sent 12:12 PM 12:30

Alpha Received 12:13 PM what are you doing?

Nic huffed—what was with all the questioning? It was like she had already begun her interview.

Alpha Sent 12:13 PM sitting in a car.

Alpha Received 12:13 PM you should sit on my face instead

Nic barely had time to gasp at the message, because just as she started choking on her spit, the Uber pulled up to the make-up company she would be interviewing at. Shooting a smile and a thanks at the driver, she stepped out of the car with her phone and portfolio, watching him zoom away like he couldn't wait to get away from her. Nic frowned, slightly offended. She wasn't even a bad passenger.

You get three stars for attitude, she thought to herself, tapping at her phone as she turned and walked into the main entrance of the building.

Tucking her phone into the pocket of her skirt, she walked up to the receptionist typing away at her computer. When Nic got closer, she could see the screen reflecting on the forty-some year old woman, cringing when she saw the main screen of a popular dating website on it.

"Excuse me?" she cleared her throat, seeing the receptionist click the screen away.

The receptionist peered at her over her glasses, scanning her up and down with a scrutinizing look. "Here for an interview for lab assistant?" she asked monotonously, as if she were tired of Nic's presence already.

Damn, why are strangers so annoyed around me today?

"Yes, I am," Nic replied, straightening her back. She felt her phone vibrate against her thigh, but she ignored it.

The receptionist pointed to the hall on Nic's right, a long manicured finger waving in the air. "The third door on the left. Good luck."

Nic thanked the receptionist, turning on her heel to walk slowly down the hall. She noticed that with every step she took, she could hear her heels clicking on the floor. It made her straighten her posture and lift her chest up—that sound always made her feel like a powerful woman.

She pulled the third door on the left open, peering inside to see a few people about her age seated on their phones before she stepped inside herself. A few of them glanced up at her as she walked past them, but nobody said a word. Nic took a seat at a wall where nobody else was, looking up as she sat to see two doors on the other side. She presumed that's where each interview was taking place, two at at time.

Nic pulled her phone out to check the time, while at the same time it buzzed again with another notification. She swiped up with a scowl, seeing two new messages from Alpha.

Alpha Received 12:14 PM i woke up with morning wood and you weren't there to help me :(

Nic nearly laughed out loud at the sad face. It was truly astonishing how Alpha's behavior changed when the topic was about sex versus when the topic was about literally anything else.

Alpha Received 12:16 PM are you ignoring me?

Alpha Sent 12:16 PM yes

Nic shook her head at her screen, tapping the sides of her phone as she waited for his next messages. She couldn't wrap her head around it—he could be intimidating, terrifying even, one moment, but annoying and overly sexual the next.

Alpha Received 12:17 PM that's rude. might just have to punish you

Alpha Sent 12:17 PM do you ever think about anything other than sex?

Alpha Received 12:17 PM do you?

Touché.

Nic glanced up around the room, getting an odd feeling that someone was watching her. However, all the other people were just like her—staring down at their phones. Someone sniffed, and Nic turned her head instantly to see a girl with straight black hair blowing her nose.

Shaking her head, she looked back down at her phone.

Alpha Sent 12:17 PM yeah, I'm thinking abt my interview

Alpha Received 12:18 PM hmm. I'm thinking about you

Before Nic could even finish reading his short message, he sent another one

Alpha Received 12:18 PM *your ass

Alpha Sent 12:18 PM what did I do to have to put up with you?

Alpha Received 12:18 PM oh didn't you just say you don't deserve me though?

Alpha Sent 12:19 PM shut up

Alpha Received 12:19 PM make me

Nic stared at her phone, twiddling her thumbs, unsure of what to say.

Alpha Received 12:20 PM nica?

Alpha Sent 12:20 PM yea?

Alpha Received 12:20 PM good luck

Nic smiled small to herself, tucking her phone back into her pocket just as one of the doors swung open, a girl with wild blonde hair storming out the room without giving a glance to anyone. Everyone waiting looked up at her with open mouths, watching her leave the waiting area with furious tears down her eyes.

Nic gulped nervously.

"Anica Jean?" a woman peeped through the open interview door, scanning the seated people with tired eyes.

Nic stood up, straightening her pencil skirt, catching the woman's attention. She gave her a small smile and a wave, following her into the interview room.

The room was a little small, making Nic feel a little claustrophobic, but that was probably her nerves. She sat in a comfy little chair in front of a table, behind which the red-haired woman joined an older looking man.

"How are you, Anica?" the man asked, sounding much more awake than the red-haired woman looked.

"I'm great—Dr. Chaves, right?"

He nodded, smiling. "And this is Dr. Yanovna."

"Good afternoon, I hope your days have been fine so far," Nic greeted, hoping her nerves didn't show through her smile.

"Thank you—so to start off, would you mind telling us why you want this position?"

And just like that, her interview began, a circle of them asking her questions and her responding in ways she hoped made her seem smart but modest at the same time. Slowly, her nerves seemed to ease. All the questions they were asking her were questions that she had expected and prepared for.

"So, Anica, what would you say your greatest weakness is? How are you working on them?" Dr. Yanovna asked, twirling a pen in her fingers.

Nic opened her mouth right when her phone vibrated against her thigh. The people in front of her just smiled at her, probably because this has happened in other interviews as well. She cleared her throat. "Well, I guess it's both a strength and weakness. I'm good at following rules and guidelines, but that also means sometimes I'll follow people's words blindly—"

Her phone vibrated again, catching her off guard.

She cleared her throat. "—especially when I think highly of them. It's something I'm working on, both in professional and daily situations—"

Another buzz.

"—by forcing myself to take a moment to think over the possible consequences—"

Again, her phone vibrated.

Dr. Chave cut her off before she could continue. "Ms. Jean, perhaps you should check your phone. It may be urgent."

"Thank you," Nic hushed gratefully, slipping her phone out of her pocket. It lit up, displaying one name.

Alpha (3)

Nic bit her lip, forcing herself not to glower at her phone. She quickly silenced it, slipping it back in her pocket, swearing to herself that she had silenced it that morning before she even left.

She looked up at her interviewers rather warily, glancing between them. "Anything else?"

"Actually," Dr. Chave cleared his throat, placing his hands over each other, "I think we've heard everything we needed to." He glanced at Dr. Yanovna, who nodded in agreement.

They both stood up, holding their hands out to shake hers.

"Oh," Nic said quietly as she stood. She shook Dr. Yanovna's hand followed by Dr. Chave's, making sure her handshake was firm despite the crushing feeling in her heart.

Dr. Yanovna seemed to catch the look on her face. "Don't read into this," she said, a reassuring smile on her lips brightening her tired eyes just a bit, "your interview went well. You should hear back from us in a few days."

Nic instantly brightened, so obviously so that Dr. Chave chuckled at her. "Thank you, really, thank you," she said, gripping her portfolio to her chest as they opened the door for her. "And have a wonderful day!"

She didn't even hear the next name they called out, deafened by her rushing blood, a grin on her face as she walked to the door to leave the waiting room.

"Wait!"

Nic turned around to see a blond man stand up from his chair and approach her. She frowned, wondering what he wanted.

"Yes?"

"Were you at that protest? Where the old man fell?"

Nic's frown deepened. "Yes... who are you?" she questioned in an accusative tone.

"Don't you remember me? I got dragged away with you?" he chuckled, and Nic got a good look at his puppy brown eyes and floppy blond hair.

Nic's eyes widened. "Oh! Yes, yes I do remember you. Did you manage to get away? One of my friends pulled me away."

The man shook his head, a frown playing on his lips. "No, I got arrested for assaulting an officer—which I guess I kinda did, but he had it coming. Anyway, they let me go after a few days. Their evidence was more incriminating towards them."

Nic winced slightly, eyeing the man and memorizing his face. "How are you going to explain that in your interview?"

He shrugged. "I'll just be honest, I guess. I'm Lucas," he said with a sweet smile, holding his hand out for her to shake.

Nic took it and shook, smiling herself. "I'm Anica—Nic," she introduced herself.

"Can I get your number?"

Nic's eyes widened slightly, her hand slipping from his.

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, keeping eye contact with her as his smile turned bashful. "There's something attractive about a girl who'll attack cops with me."

Nic smiled, which instantly made him brighten up. "Sure," she said, taking his unlocked phone and typing her number in. "Good luck—it's funny that we'd be interviewing for the same position," she said with a small laugh, passing his phone back.

"Yeah—but I heard they're taking three people. Maybe we'll be two of them," he said with a small smile, dropping his phone into his pocket.

Nic tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Maybe. I know I wouldn't mind. Listen, I have to get going now, but shoot me a text, yeah?"

"Yeah," he said with a soft laugh, and Nic could feel his eyes on her as she opened the door and walked back out into the hallway.

Nic was glad to see a different Uber driver on the way home. She watched the houses pass through the window, still riding a high from being told that the interview went well. Her phone buzzed all of a sudden, lighting up to show two tames.

Alpha (3)

Unknown (1)

Nic slid up, opening Alpha's messages first.

Alpha Received 12:40 PM so have you considered the whole sitting on my face thing?

Alpha Received 12:42 PM wait are you in your interview right now?

Alpha Received 12:42 PM crap sorry. you got this

Nic then moved her fingers to open her message from who she assumed was Lucas.

Unknown Received 12:51 PM hey this is Lucas. just thought this would make you laugh—I got up to get a coffee from the hallway and managed to spill it down my shirt. now they're going to think I'm a criminal AND dysfunctional.

Nic smiled down at her phone before turning it off and looking back out the window, a deep sigh flying past her lips.