#every photo of them turns out blurry in some way

[inpermanences]

Fanfiction idea from the perspective of onlookers in GF; where they’ll catch glimpses of old man yaoi and young teenage romance in various locations. Having just enough context from the way Stanley will flirt with a man striking a close resemblance to himself in front of tourists. Mabel’s glitter-glue covered hands clutching onto Dipper’s sweaty ones as she teases him about the terrible first, second, third, fourth — Alright Mabel, I get it! I don’t have much experience with girls. You’re my sister and I only want you. — passing by random people who aren’t quite sure what exactly they just heard. Campers trying to sleep at night but can’t because they believe some sort of creature is out in the woods. They’d normally be right, but tonight it’s just Ford snarling like a feral dog trying to chew Stanley up. Teenagers trying to shoot their shot with Mabel. Only to find her hours later making out with another teen in the distance… didn’t she say that was her brother? And he’s looking right in their direction… making sure his claim is known.

Someone tries to bring it up the sheriffs that there’s something weird going on in that shack. They laugh. As if it’s normal.

[ab4eva]

‘The Three of Us’

-

Fully co-authored with: @precious-little-scoundrel

Thanks to: My incomparable co-author & sweetheart Marina, for being willing to follow this rabbit hole with me and explore this little trio! And for the gorgeous mood board and vibes, I’m obsessed. And to Ashley, for being the best damn cheerleader we could ask for. ♥️

Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only

Word count: 8k

-

Sometimes in Hollywood, magic happens behind the scenes - in a dark corner of Bar Lubitsch or a little poolside bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Things that are only whispered about in certain circles or sent to Deuxmoi with the stipulation of “anon please.” The blurry flash of a hand, littered with telltale rings, on her Instagram story. The paparazzi photos of a drunken night out before the three of them disappeared into the balmy Los Angeles evening. The fandom set ablaze by rumors as they combed over every sign, every possibility, every look that they took for god’s honest truth. A myth in the making, never confirmed, never denied.

When a ballsy journalist had the gumption to ask Callum about the rumors some months down the road, he just grinned his Cheshire smile and shook his head, the slightest blush hinting at the corners of his already ruddy cheeks.

“Nah, mate, can’t believe everyfing you read in Hollywood, can ya.” A statement, no trace of question in his ice blue eyes as he licked his cherry lips and stared the journalist down, daring them to dig deeper. His heart may have started pounding a little too hard but only he knew that. Nothing belied the steely gaze he turned on the journalist - not a flex in his jaw or a slight blink or the whisper of a breath. Needless to say, that journalist had no desire to go toe-to-toe with all six feet two inches of Chelsea’s finest lad. They let the subject drop, though the air had already been sucked out of the tiny interview room. Callum noted with suppressed glee the way the journalist shifted in their seat uncomfortably, trying to regain the upper hand.

Serves ya right, ya wanker, floated through Cal’s head and it took all his energy to focus his thoughts on the next question being asked of him. Now that the taboo subject had been brought up, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back towards that fateful night, like the breach in a ship’s hull the memories flooded in. The soft give of her flesh beneath his fingers as he dug them into her hips, needing her closer, closer. The salty taste of Austin’s skin on his tongue as he dragged it slowly across his friend’s collarbone, the streak of wetness left behind shimmering in the moonlight. The mingled sighs and shared breaths, overpowering and heady in that dark little bungalow. That was the night he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter how many books he read or women he kissed or bloody hikes he took in Runyon Canyon, he was always going back to the night when everything changed.

-

“Didn’t I see you at the Luchino Visconti retrospective a couple nights ago? At the Academy?” The very definition of tall, dark and handsome has just walked in the room, smiling down at you and waiting expectantly for your answer. This is Callum Turner, the new client you’re working with for Masters of the Air press (alongside Austin Butler, your regular client and current boyfriend-adjacent…guy. It’s casual, you’re both keeping it casual. For now.).

“Oh! Were you there? Wasn’t it amazing?” you gush, a little flustered.

“It’s kind of rare to meet another Visconti fan. You must be one of the good ones.” He grins at you, all warmth and puppy dog eagerness. A kindred spirit, an instant connection. You would be very charmed by him, if you weren’t already attached to someone else. Who are you kidding, you’re charmed by him anyway. Talking with him comes easily, and the time flies by as you style his hair, moisturize his skin, add a bit of concealer here and there. He’s funny, sweet, intelligent. Austin has told you a bit about him, about his friend who helped him during one of the most confusing times of his life. But this - this is more than you were expecting. He’s more than you were expecting. And you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. When he asks you out for a drink later, you’re absolutely certain. It is with no small amount of regret that you turn him down.

-

The first time you noticed something akin to a spark between the man you’d casually been dating and his co-star was during press interviews for their new television series, Masters of the Air. As Austin and Callum’s groomer and makeup artist, you were allowed a seat at the back of the room, near the video monitors, ready to jump into action if one of Austin’s curls needed to be twisted back into place or if Callum’s nose got too shiny and needed a bit of powder. You glanced up from your phone to see the two of them leaned so close together their shoulders touched, just barely. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Callum’s mouth looked as if it might graze the shell of Austin’s ear, a smirk playing at the edges, as his dark, curly head bent conspiratorially towards his friend’s blonde one. Silly boys, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched them. You’d seen that look on Austin’s face before…it was almost one of… adoration.

Without warning your mind flashed back to last night, Austin gazing up at you through your thighs, a look of devotion on his face, his sandy hair ruffled and his eyes slightly dazed. The very same look that he’s now turned on Callum… Nah… You laughed at yourself quietly and shook your head to clear your thoughts, silently scolding yourself. You’d been reading too many spicy novels recently and clearly your imagination was running wild. It made sense that he and Callum were close. Austin had been lost as a newborn calf without a mother after Elvis had wrapped and Masters of the Air had started filming. A brotherhood, that’s what Austin had called it. And Callum had been his right hand man. And that’s all, you were sure. Pretty sure.

-

Bar Lubitsch is dim and noisy, crowded with cast and crew of Masters for an impromptu celebration while so many of them are in town. Austin hasn’t been here in years, always remembered it being a good time. He wants to show you and Callum a good time, after all the hard work you three have been putting in for press the past couple of weeks. That was two hours and three drinks ago, and you watch them now from your perch at the bar and how much they feed each other’s souls, like displaced brothers, reunited after years apart. The evening is starting to shift and blur, so many drinks and people and noise and singing. You never knew Callum loved to sing so much, until he was singing karaoke at the top of his lungs and the whole bar was gathered around the little stage in the back room, jumping to the beat while he sang the most risqué lyrics right to Austin, like they were the only two people in the room:

Even when the cold comes crashing through

I'm putting all my bets on you

I hope they never understand us

I put my heart inside your palms

My home in your arms

Now we know nothing matters

Nothing matters

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

You’re not sure you’ll ever be over Callum pinching Austin’s cheeks, channeling his inner Egan, and singing right at him with drunken gusto while Austin is too tipsy to remember not to bask in it and it’s probably the cutest, and hottest, thing you’ve ever seen. It’s only afterwards that you start to feel a tiny flicker of jealousy. There’s something between them, a connection that time and distance hasn’t untethered. Later, you drag Austin into one of the faded velvet booths, snuggling up to him as he pulls you into a one-armed embrace, kissing your temple with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. His heady mix of sweat and cologne mingle, along with the alcohol, and suddenly you’re lightheaded. Not to mention the fact that his soft lips have seemed to have move, with lightning speed, from your temple to your neck. You gently push him away, and he gives you a questioning look but you need to see his face when you ask him this.

“Hey…what’s going on with Callum? Because, it’s clearly something? And whatever it is, it’s ok, really it is…but…I do have eyes, Austin,” you blurt out, biting your lip. You see a dozen different emotions cross his features, like a movie playing out in real time - surprise, guilt, defensiveness, longing, acceptance. His face goes all red and he leans his head back, his tan throat open and inviting, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right this second.

“It’s…complicated. Kind of,” he sighs as he stares up at the ceiling and you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it and that’s answer enough for you. You don’t push him further as you quietly turn his mouth to yours and make him forget anything and everyone but you.

-

“Come on Aus, it’ll be just like old times,” Cal goads drunkenly, placing a proprietary hand on Austin’s belly, his words laden with meaning and a hint of pleading. It’s not like he’s missed Austin or anything…not like that. Not that he’d admit anyway, hell no. Couldn’t two dudes have a consensual thing and not be weird about it? It must be liquid courage that made him suggest it aloud. That and the fact Austin keeps looking at him like he hung the damn moon.

“Swear you’ll shut up? If I say yes, will you just…chill?” Austin’s eyes are trained on you and it takes everything in him to play it cool, keep a calm head. Cal’s hand is still on Austin’s stomach and he starts to pet him, just above the belt and it makes Austin lurch in sudden need. He licks his lips, they’re suddenly parched, and swallows hard. He hears Cal snicker softly in his ear.

“Now, see, as I recall, you wouldn’t stop asking me to keep sayin’ shit last time.” Callum’s voice floats above the music, scratchy from gin and karaoke, hot breath tickling the shell of Austin’s ear. His hand moves to squeeze Austin’s neck, and if Austin didn’t know any better he’d swear it was a subconscious power move, Callum trying to literally bend Austin to his will. There’s an all too familiar twitch down Austin’s pant leg, and oh god he wishes- he thought, he was so sure, he was past that phase of responding like one of Pavlov’s dogs to Callum’s adoration and teasing.

Maybe it’s just the notion, his suggestion. That’s what’s suddenly making Austin’s blood feel hot and his eyes hazy, it’s the idea of her…and him! But mostly her, just her, and sharing her and- None of that explains the way he wants to bend to that firm hand squeezing in drunken cajoling at the base of his neck, makes him want to knock noses and yank at the stupid collar of Callum’s sweater until there’s collarbones to see and a draft under the wool. This is winter in Los Angeles, heating inside is state of the art, there’s no reason for such coziness and it’s making the man sweat and all Austin can think of from the smell is memories of an English summer, worn out and floating in his own body, biting down on Callum’s upper arm, tangy, sweaty flesh to keep an awfully strange escapade quiet.

That does it. What is he even thinking? He must’ve drank more than he realized but then, oh god, there Cal goes, throwing his hands up in defeat, shrugging his shoulders like a kid caught trying to push his luck. The arm around his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’d give anything to have it back again. He shakes his head - he really must’ve had too much to drink. It was making him melancholy and sobering him up fast. Funny how alcohol will do that to you.

“Scouts honor, Butler, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll,” he seems to search the ceiling in drunken concentration for the correct wording most likely to open the doors to the kingdom, “I’ll be- it’ll be: HER, YOU and a um, uh mannequin. How ‘bout that, mate? Good enough for ya? You’d probably like that, wouldn’t ya? Ya little freak!” He lands a playful right hook to Austin’s jaw, hard knuckles digging into soft cheeks.

The usually inflammatory epithet of ‘freak’, coming as it does from a man begging for a threesome with himself and his girl, is nothing short of rabidly complementary. Callum’s shit-eating, triumphant grin could light up the whole damn room in this moment. He knows he’s got Austin right where he wants him and starts to count down silently in his head - three…two…

Austin finds himself grinning, a warning, measured thing but a condoning of the sentiment all the same.

“One,” Cal says out loud, his arm going back around Austin’s shoulders, squeezing so hard Austin winces a little. It’s a reflective motion then, done almost without thinking, when Austin slaps Callum’s thigh, not realizing there’s a boner bent down that trouser leg. A wounded hiss leaves Callum’s lips as he caves in on himself a little bit and Austin freezes, his face turning crimson and he feels another twitch down his own trousers.

“Steady on mate,” Callum coughs, shaking a leg, trying to discreetly readjust. “And I thought I was the eager beaver here.” Austin wants to wipe that smirk right off Callum’s smug little face but the moment their eyes meet they can’t help but start to laugh. Giggles, really, which turn into loud guffaws that has the whole bar turning to see what the commotion is about.

Your head whips around at the sound you’ve grown to know well over the past few weeks, the loud and boisterous laughter of two friends who seem forget that anyone else exists when they’re together. You spot them, huddled close as they always seem to be, and shake your head. A grin tugs at your lips and threatens to spill out the feelings fluttering around in your chest, no your stomach, no…somewhere else, lower. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about the two of them…together. Sometimes you’re with them, sometimes you’re not, in these little fantasies of yours. You catch yourself biting your lip and staring at them a little too longingly. You wonder what they’re saying now, both of them look flustered and awkward, just slightly. You can actually feel the tension rolling off of them in waves from where you stand across the bar.

Austin chooses that moment to look up and catch your eye. There’s a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there earlier and what is that look on his face? You’ve never seen it before…shy and almost…guilty? He looks just like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Your eyes question him across the dim bar, an unspoken tether ties you together wherever you are, and uncertainty about the deal he’s just struck with Callum comes creeping in. What has gotten into him? He’s just agreed to share you, with another man. And not just any man, one he has a rather interesting history with. The thought of Callum touching you, kissing you, fucking you…suddenly he’s stone cold sober and beginning to regret letting Cal sway his decision. Because there sure as hell won’t be any take backs, not with Callum. He’s like a dog with a bone once he gets what he wants.

-

“Dude no, there’s chemical flavoring in there, that shit’s bad for you and it’ll give her irritation!” Austin looks slightly perturbed, not for the first time this evening. He sways slightly under the florecent lights of the drugstore, the constant buzzing adding to the pounding in his head.

“What if it’s not intended to go on her? Hmm? Thought of that Butler?” Callum murmurs under his breath, his eyes focused solely on the lube he’s holding, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his ears. Has a blush under drugstore fluorescents ever looked so lovely? And Austin hasn’t stopped biting that lower lip since you walked into this place. It hasn’t stopped him from grinning, though, his excitement bubbling through in little ticks and tells, the nervous turning over of the vaseline jar in his large hands.

“You haven’t even bought me dinner Cal, just straight to the flavored lube,” Austin bemoans, faking offense. “’Sides, she’s already sweet enough, aren’t you baby? I’ve had my fair share of licks,” Austin’s shoulder bumps yours as he sends you a smoldering look, his eyes flickering down your body briefly before his cheeks turn a slight rosy color you can see blooming up from his chest through his open shirt collar.

“Austin!” you hiss, slapping his arm playfully and hiding your face in his neck, embarrassed.

“Leave it to you two twig Bettie’s and we’d be down to nothin’ but socks and coconut oil,” Cal snarks, not at all inaccurately.

“I don’t remember you minding coconut oil last time,” Austin says under his breath, clearly meant for Callum’s ears only, but you manage to catch it, and your heart starts to pound at the implied meaning.

“Mmm, and it was bitter so - mojito,” Callum says decidedly, leaving no room for argument. Austin smiles at you, lifting his shoulder in a shrug and rolling his eyes heavenward. You giggle nervously, wondering for the first time just what you’re getting yourself into.

“I saw that! Listen mate, feel free to shut me up at any time. This would do nicely, ya reckon?” Callum lifts a silk sleeping mask with one, long finger and swings it around seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down comically. You laugh and the butterflies making a home in your ribcage start to settle down again.

-

The whimpers emanating from between your parted lips take you by surprise and you promptly shut your mouth, unexpectedly embarrassed to be mewling so wantonly. You bite your lip as it becomes harder and harder to hold them in with every slow thrust of Austin’s velvety cock filling you, his swollen tip hitting just the right spot, and every flick of Callum’s tongue as he laves at your tender little clit with vigor. You feel Austin tense slightly beneath you as Cal swirls his tongue down to your opening to lap at where you and Austin join, sloppy and wet. A soft moan floats past your left ear, Austin’s hot breath sending a shiver through you, and it seems to invigorate Callum as he doubles down on his efforts to have his tongue cover as much surface area as possible. He chuckles and it jolts through you as your back arches, your fingers finding his dark curls and yanking him closer, demanding something you aren’t even aware of. He understands what you need even if you don’t and as his lips close around your sensitive bud you can no longer keep quiet, keening softly. You practically buck off of Austin’s lap and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you in place. The harder Callum sucks, the more Austin starts to whine - you’ve gotten so tight around him he can hardly thrust.

“Oh fuck, what’re you doing? Cal…what…” you slur as you pull at his hair, trying to dislodge him from your clit. You feel him grin against your heat as he slowly slips two fingers in you, resting them alongside Austin’s length. You hiss at the stretch and Austin starts to pick up his pace again. Your head is too hazy with pleasure to register fully what is happening as Callum gently slides another finger in next to the first two. His mouth works your clit, sucking and pulling, harder then soft again.

“More…more more more,” you beg hoarsely. You feel as if you might fly away and the only thing anchoring you to earth are these two men and their hands and their mouths on your body. Callum cocks an eyebrow at you and his eyes shift to Austin. You feel him nod, barely, and then another burning stretch as Cal slips his pinkie in next to his other fingers. It drives you insane and you feel yourself clenching and coming, harder than you can ever remember. You stop breathing for a moment, your mind going numb with rapture as you come apart at the seams.

“Oh fuck,” Austin whispers, biting your shoulder, his hand absentmindedly palming your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple. “Come on baby, I know you’ve got more, give us another one. Cal, can’t thrust with you in there…give me some room, huh?”

Callum let’s go of your clit with a wet pop and gently slides his fingers out. His nose and chin are shiny with your juices, even his eyebrows look a little damp and he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Go on then, Butler, show us what you got.” He stands, knees popping as he does. From up here he can see your faces clearly, yours and Austin’s. He watches, rapt, as Austin nuzzles your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he speeds up his thrusts, toying with your nipples mercilessly. Your eyes flutter closed and your head drops back onto his shoulder. Callum shakes his head, dazed and pussy drunk - why was he on his knees so long?? He coulda been watching this the whole time? But he knows why- fresh, homegrown pussy. And he means to have his fill. He can’t take being on the sidelines, watching Austin move in and out of you at a punishing pace, having all the fun. One of Callum’s massive palms descends onto your clit, slapping and rubbing cruelly, back and forth, faster and faster. And then you’re gushing everywhere, all over Callum’s hand and Austin’s cock and the bed, soaking everything.

“Come on then girl, give us all you’ve got,” Cal encourages, his raspy voice driven to the point of hoarseness. He grabs his painfully hard, throbbing cock and roughly starts to slap your clit. You gasp, jerking in Austin’s arms as you fall apart again. And then Callum gets a thought, because his dick is doing most of the thinking just now, and it’s been sadly neglected thus far. He’s just had four fingers in you and now you’re literally flinging droplets with each swipe, it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet. He slows his slaps and starts to rub soft circles against your clit, stopping every once in a while to try your entrance gently, just to see. You moan breathlessly and his heart speeds up as he looks at Austin questioningly.

“I recognize that gleam in your eye, Turner…spit it out,” Austin says in a slightly strangled voice.

“Think you can take us both, angel? At the same time?” Callum directs his question to you, ignoring Austin.

You can’t take your poor abused clit getting ground on anymore, it’s just too intense, anything to give it a break. You nod your head so fast he thinks it might fly off. Your trembling little hand reaches down with disjointed begs of “Put it in baby, put it, please Cal, it’s burning.”

Your sloppy wet pussy hole visibly clenches with a tiny space of room left each time Austin digs in. Callum drunkenly wonders if they should have a medical professional on standby for this sorta shit, like it’s gotta be a crime to wedge two boys into a girl, especially when Butler’s packing like that. But your whine suggests you need it and he’d really like to not be left out. FOMO -that’s what he’ll blame when he’s driving the ambulance or else coming down from the craziest high he’s ever had with a pool of cum drying on his belly.

Austin goes still as a statue under you and drags your sweaty hair across to the other shoulder so he can really see your face and ask, “You sure? Baby, talk to me, you really wanna try?” His hand gently grips your chin, forcing you to focus on his eyes, his question.

“I’ll die if I don’t have you both,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, but Austin still looks concerned and slightly perturbed. Is the girl he knows even in there? But you want something, you want this and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t give you anything you want that’s within his power to give. And if there’s one thing he loves about you it’s your love of a challenge. He bites his cheek, trying not to blow his load over your sweet determination.

“Ok ok.” Austin takes a deep, steadying breath, kissing your wet temple and gives Callum a very familiar look of admonishment and also trust in his good intentions. “Careful, man, really careful,” he instructs as Callum nods his silent assent.

“No safe words, just if somebody says stop we stop, ok?” Austin’s starting to pant, as he can feel the poofy mushroom head of Cal’s cock brushing his sack at your entrance. “Anybody who says stop,” he clarifies, half thinking he might be the first to wimp out and do it.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Cal actually looks sober as fuck except for the sheen of sweat that always seems to come with his pints and somehow the eye contact he makes lights a fire in Austin’s belly.

“I might say no,” you squeak, “I won’t mean it though, just a heads up. I’ll say stop- if I need to stop.”

“No?” Cal laughs nervously. “That might make me feel a little…bad,” he admits, still rubbing maddening circles around where Austin’s been practically cockwarming you for ages.

“Stop getting all existential and give her what she wants, man,” Austin rebuts.

“It’ll make me feel bad if she says no,” Cal blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“Then I’ll do it.” Austin’s voice is rough in your ear and your nipples harden into peaks as he gently pulls out of you and pats the bed. “Tell Cal to lay his big ass self down.”

You giggle as Callum dives onto the bed, bouncing for a moment until he settles, turning over onto his back, head propped on a lazy forearm. He pats his meaty thighs and you roll your eyes but can’t deny the flip flop your stomach does at the thought of those thighs and what a nice cradle they’ll make while you’re railed within an inch of you’re life. And then you’re hovering over him, Cal kneading your hip encouragingly while running an admiring hand up and down your spine, like you’re a skittish horse in need of calming. You hesitate, momentarily unsure, but Austin nods at you reassuringly from the foot of the bed and ever the gentleman, gives you his hands to hold as you sink slowly down on Callum. Though his gentlemanly hands are gripping yours tightly, his eyes are glued to your pussy taking every inch of uncut Brit cock that he’s maybe gagged on once.

“Earth to Butler!” comes from behind you because Austin’s zoned out a little and it’s been a hot minute and you’re somewhat situated now.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, ok, ok…”

Cal snickers before crunching up behind you, his chest hot against your back as he wraps his arms around you. “You feel lovely, darlin’, wanna lay back wif’ me? Don’t mind him, he’s lost it. Always goes a bit soft in the head around a pretty pussy or my cock.”

It’s a lot from this position and laying back against Callum’s chest is intense. You feel like he’s fully in your belly and it stretches your womb over him. He feels different…his isn’t as wet as Austin’s little water fountain but it throbs more noticeably, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. Cal pets your belly soothingly and spreads your pussy lips for Austin to really get a look at. You whine and squirm, realizing again the want for more. Those fingers dabbling at your entrance, threatening to push inside you once more and that’s when Austin breaks, recalling that’s what he and his cock are here for.

“Yeah, ok, ok, present and accounted for. Move your hand,” he murmurs, swiping Cal’s hand away. He thumbs at you himself for a bit, just to be sure and to watch as Cal loses his cool facade for a second when you clench tightly around him.

“Still sure about this, baby?” He asks one more time as he’s pressing at the ring and the burn has you bracing. You feel Cal’s hand move from your waist to your thigh, behind your knee, cupping it and dragging it wide, spreading you apart before you’ve even said your piece. The vote of confidence does you good and you take a deep breath, nodding once, decisively.

“Then put me in, angel,” Austin tells you, fat cockhead already snagged in but there’s a little ripple in his hard cock from the resistance of the tight space. Steeling yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around him, tugging him closer and slowly feeding his thickness into you alongside Cal’s, who starts thrashing his head and moaning at the drag like he’s the one getting breached.

“Good girl, good girl, please more…know you can take more.” Cal’s begging for cock by proxy and it alters your brain somehow. Austin’s too, he puts his hips into the effort and soon he’s gotten past the muscles at your command and into the threshold where you can’t manage to push him out if you tried. It makes you panic a little, but Cal is softly shushing in your ear, a distracting thumb stroking behind your knee, other freckled hand mauling a tit and begging you to take more cock so he can get friction.

“She can take it, come on, Austin,” he vouches for you, a little self promotion as you can’t even form words right now. Somewhere about six inches in your vocabulary consists of yelped little “fuck’s”and whimpering “I cant’s”.

Austin caresses your cheek, commanding you to look at him, his blue eyes focused in on yours, “That’s it baby, just a little more. You’re doing so good for us… such a good girl.”

Callum grab’s Austin’s shoulder and brings him fully deeper, which is all well and good when Austin kisses your forehead and insists raggedly, “You are doing it, baby.”

When he finally pushes in that last little bit, you lose any control you thought you had, instantly coming from the stretch and threatening to push Austin out. But he presses nothing less than his full weight on you, keeping you in place and himself snug inside next to Callum. You gasp for air and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. Austin tries to remember to breathe and promptly forgets how when he makes eye contact with Callum for the first time since being balls deep.

“Are you -is that you…twitching?”

“Woulda thought you’d remember that,” Callum smirks. “Coulda sworn I recall you saying something about it jumping like a live wire in your hand?”

“Christ, well it feels different all…snuggled up next to mine,” Austin grits out, coloring slightly.

After a moment or two, when breath has been regained and a few laughs shared and some semblance of sanity restored in right spaces, Cal starts to pepper every inch of your neck and cheeks in kisses. Now that he’s not so desperate he’s become utterly grateful for you, for this. The kisses turn into sloppy, wet groans in your ear as Austin begins to move and Cal’s hand is gripping your jaw, his eyes locked on Austin, your legs thrown wide over his thighs, spread to the max and he’s a perfect recliner. He throws his other arm across your chest in a loving armbar, holding you still on top of him, “So Butler can get a rhythm, baby.”

Austin looms above you both, finding his pace, measured and steady. His beautiful face is flushed full of awe and there’s a heat in his gaze you’ve never seen before. He puts his hand on Callum’s shoulder for leverage, long fingers digging into freckled flesh and Cal promptly lays a little smooch on Austin’s forearm with a cheeky grin. Austin’s eyes shift and change, become a deeper blue and an expression you can’t read flits across his face as he jabs a particularly hard thrust into you. Callum starts to whimper and squirm when he realizes Austin’s thrusts are rubbing him too well, and it's not just you who’s getting their spot hit - that spot being his foreskin being drug back and forth in maddening little drags.

“Y’all like that? Feel good?” Austin growls lowly, rhythmic thrusts pushing you and Callum deeper into the fluffy white sheets, both of your whimpers combining until you can’t tell who they belong to. Austin groans and drives in harder, his white knuckles gripping Callum’s shoulder hard, while he reserves his tenderest touch for you, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.

“You’re…enjoying this…” you manage to moan between thrusts. His face splits into a grin as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment to kiss you hard, all tongues and teeth and desperation.

“Oh, fuck mate, that’s so good. Oh my god,” Callum babbles. “Right there, fuck, right there. You feel so good.”

“Which one, baby girl? Me or her?” Austin smirks.

For once, Callum has no witty response except the heavy panting in your ear. He squeezes your waist harder and his fingernails indent your hip and it gives you something else to focus on while you catch your breath, a tiny escape from the mind-blowing ecstasy you feel and the slight alarm bells ringing in your head. You can feel Callum somehow expanding and growing inside of you, even bigger than he was before. Austin’s eyes go wide and a look of panic crosses his face - his perfect pink mouth forms a perfect “o”.

“Oh shit, what…why is everything so fucking tight again…what is happening,” Austin groans breathlessly, his mouth set in a determined line, teeth ground together so hard you worry momentarily he might break a tooth. He tightens his grip on Callum’s shoulder and Cal’s massive hand encircles Austin’s delicate wrist, knuckles white as he holds on for dear life.

“Faster…faster,” Cal begs, again and again. “Sorry no, mate it’s, it’s fuckin’ happenin’…oh fuck.” His head cranes forward and you can feel his belly and hips flexing beneath you as he tenses over and over, letting out a hoarse sort of howl as he comes. His warmth fills you and it shakes something loose in your head, your own stomach starting to clench as you grab a handful of Austin’s golden hair, urging him on. Callum’s hands are all over you, petting you everywhere as he starts to come down.

“S’ok I came in ya? Yeah? Good, ‘cause I did,” he whispers hoarsely with a remorseful little laugh, back to babbling to you now that Austin’s got him there. He wipes the sweaty hair from your forehead, tucking a piece of it behind your ear and kisses your neck, whispering encouraging words, “That’s it, babe, give us another one.”

Cal’s bitten off little whimpers spur you on, as his soft cock is trapped in there too, getting pummeled. He’s trying to focus on you, with little pets and murmurs of encouragement but you feel his jaw clench as he grits his teeth, taking the pounding Austin is giving the both of you.

“Got me feelin’ like a proper woman, squealin’ n’ shit, Aus.”

You feel another orgasm build and shake through you, one of the many countless times you’ve fallen apart tonight, but this one stands out. It would bring you to your knees if you were unlucky enough to be standing at this moment. You’re sure it has something to do with knowing you’re satisfying two men at once, Callum having found his release and Austin being close to his. You can tell he’s on the verge by the little signs you’ve grown to recognize over the course of your relationship. The way his forehead creases in between his brows - you’ve kissed it away a dozen times in the heat of the moment. The way his pulse beats on the side of his neck, his vein there popping out and becoming more prominent. The short little huffs of breath he inhales, in quick succession - one, two, three, bam, bam, bam, like three shots straight to your heart. It’s your turn to take care of him, the last one standing after he made sure you and Cal got yours.

“Your turn, baby,” you whisper, pulling his forehead down to meet yours, thumbing at the hollows of his cheeks as he begins to tremble and his thrusts turn sloppy. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue before moving to latch onto your neck. Cal wraps a hand around Austin’s throat, pushing his head back and squeezing just enough for his eyes to widen and his mouth to pop open. His blue eyes darken and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you again, but he bypasses you and goes straight for Callum’s collarbone, his perfect, white teeth sinking into Callum’s lovely English skin and biting down, hard. Cal yelps but doesn’t let go of Austin’s neck, and that’s when you feel it, your belly filled with warmth again as Austin pulses and twitches inside you, a stuttered moan muffled into the crook of Callum’s shoulder. He collapses on top of you and Callum, completely and utterly spent, the three of you breathing heavily and unable to move for a few moments. You squirm a tiny bit, trying to take a deep breath with one man plastered to your front and another to your back.

Austin gets the hint and lifts himself back up on shaky arms, slipping out of you with a squelch. You gasp one final time, at the sudden loss of him, and a cold emptiness is left where he once filled you to the brim, almost to breaking. The coldness is replaced quickly by a gushing warmth spilling out of you. You feel Callum suck in a breath, his broad chest expanding beneath you, his right arm still wrapped tightly around your chest.

“Christ, it’s running down my balls,” he wheezes out, taking another shuddering breath.

Austin braces himself against the headboard and slowly disentangles himself, flopping limply beside you on the bed. He looks at you and Cal still entwined, his eyes moving from both of your faces flushed with heat, down to Callum’s arm still tightly wrapped around you, one large, meaty hand gripping your breast, his middle finger absentmindedly pressing the sensitive bud of your nipple down. Austin sucks in breath after breath, and his eyes travel lower, to your legs still splayed wide over Callum’s sturdy thighs, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, the spend of both men slowly dripping out of you. A sudden flash of possessiveness roars through him - for you, for Callum. For the sacred thing he has with both of you. His face goes numb and his ears start to ring. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“What is it, Aus?” you whisper, stretching out a hand to him. He looks forlorn, alone on the other side of the bed, his vulnerable face a mix of emotions crashing together all at once, lost and unsure, the gravity of everything settling on his shoulders like a blanket.

“Come back to us.” Your fingertips barely reach to brush his bronzed chest, the little blonde hairs soft against your skin. “Please.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crawls back over, wrapping his arms around you both and collapsing on top of you again. You’re hilariously squished in the middle of a bear hug now, both men squeezing with all their might, a strange show of masculinity to mask true feelings.

“I can’t breathe….” you manage between giggles. Callum lets out a soft chuckle in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek as his arm shifts beneath you. He digs his fingers into Austin’s armpit and wiggles them around none too gently. Austin bucks against you and squeaks out an uncharacteristically high laugh, trying to squirm out of Cal’s grasp, but it’s too strong and Austin’s body feels like jelly just now.

“Hey! Hey hey, no fair…you know I hate… being… tickled…” Austin grunts out, trying desperately to writhe out of this strange embrace.

-

Bright, cheerful sunshine spills onto the hotel room floor and across the bed, where it has no right to be at this ungodly hour. It shines in unabashedly, through drapes you forgot to close properly in all of your horny desperation. A little sliver of verdant green Hollywood hills is the only signal from the outside world. In here, somewhere between sleeping and waking, in that hazy early morning dreamland, you register Austin tucked up close behind you, his knees pushing the backs of yours and his warm, heavy arm slung over your waist. This is how you wake up every morning and you scoot your bottom back, into the cradle of his hips, momentarily unaware of the pulverization of your insides. But scenes from last night play out like a clip reel inside your head almost as soon as you’re conscious. You squeeze your eyes tight, refusing to give the sun its due. You stretch your legs gingerly, wiggling your toes against Austin’s, and take stock of things. There’s the obvious ache between your legs - more of a throbbing fire, if the truth is to be told. Your nipples seem to remember the previous evening’s activities as well because they immediately harden and stand at attention. And you can’t feel them yet but you’re pretty sure you have a few bruises, too. Ah well, you think as you yawn lazily, that’s what makeup is for.

You blink one eye open (it’s so bright in here!) and the first thing you encounter is a massive arm right next to your nose, tiny, golden hairs glinting in the sunlight. The second thing you see is Cal, on his belly and sans sheets or clothes, his lush and muscular bottom swelling above the white duvet beneath him. His adorable face is pressed into the pillow next to yours, dark curls swirling across his forehead and day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw. He feels your eyes on him, he’s only been snoozing for a bit, waiting for you two to wake up. He cracks one bright, blue eye open and stares back at you a moment. He senses a rush of what he feels everytime he sees you but this time it’s magnified by endearment and gratitude. Then, his face lights up, still smushed into the pillow and a massive, squinty grin splits his face. Your heart gives a funny little leap inside your chest and you find that your fingers are caressing his cheek softly, of their own volition and you resist the urge to kiss the little freckle under his mouth. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips, holding them to his warm lips as he smiles. And suddenly, any worry about things being weird has evaporated, as has any possibility of him being a third wheel. He just belongs.

“Hey! Quit making goo-goo eyes at my girl.” Austin’s gravelly morning voice rumbles from behind you playfully, and quick as lightning the arm still draped around your waist reaches over and smacks Callum’s ass, hard. The slap echoes around the room and you see the pale flesh of his bottom bounce and reverberate with the force of it. Cal, and his red, pillow creased face, jolts forward, yelling and jerking in the sheets, which in turn rubs his raw cock. This causes a chain reaction of events which results in him immediately pulling a sore muscle and flopping back down on the bed, moaning and rubbing his reddening backside.

“No fair, bruv,” he groans into the pillow. “That was too fuckin’ close to my balls.”

Austin chuckles and swats your ass gently for good measure. Slowly, everyone starts to shift and stir. First there are whines about soreness and muscles. Then about how sticky it all is. Then about who’s gonna order room service - but more pressingly, who’s gonna walk to the mini bar and grab a water. And then there’s an argument about who’s voice is less hoarse to call for the food - this ends up being you, hilariously. Then there’s moaning arguments about who is intact enough to wobble to the door and tip the server. In between massive amounts of doting and fretting over you, obviously. The boys are ever attentive, fluffing your pillows and making sure you’re comfortable while they feed you omelets and sausage and pancakes until your energy is restored. Over breakfast in bed, the arguments continue about who’s more bruised up - there’s a nasty bite mark on Cal’s collarbone but the fingerprints around Austin’s neck are a fair rival. There’s a panicked and very male discussion about emergency rooms when you admit you can barely move. But you manage to convince them that a nice, hot soak in the tub would do you wonders right about now. So Austin goes to draw you a bath while Callum helps you out of bed, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and guiding you to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later you’re starting to feel somewhat restored and a little more like yourself. The boys take turns showering, getting ready for the screening event later today. They go about it quietly though, almost reverently, leaving you to relax in peace. You turn the hot water on again, you’ve soaked so long it’s turning tepid but you’re not ready to relinquish this luxury. You ask Austin to bring you your makeup kit, eying the marks on both of them that need covering up. First Austin, then Callum, one after the other they kneel beside the tub in only their dress pants, chest and feet still bare. There are bruises and hickies and bite marks on clavicles and necks and wrists. Poor Callum, with his delicate, reactionary British skin has what looks like beard burn over half his chest and up the side of his throat. You turn sideways in the fancy clawfoot bathtub, gingerly dabbing concealer here and there, doing the best you can to cover up any evidence of last night's revels. Austin sits patiently, a towel underneath his knees to buffer the hard tile floor, and watches you with his kind, enigmatic ocean eyes. They’re distracting, those eyes, as they watch your face, every blink and every smile.

“What is it, Aus? Something on your mind?” you finally murmur, unable to take such naked contemplation any longer.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” He smooths the hair back from your forehead, rubbing a silky piece between his fingers. “I’m so lucky.”

Callum slouches against the doorway and lets out a quiet hum. “I think you mean we’re lucky, mate. The three of us.”

-

Pt 2 - The Three of Us: Brat Behavior

-

Tagging some Austin & Callum lovers I know: @jelliedonut @crazymadpassionatelove @elvisabutler @slowsweetlove @stylespresleyhearted @steph-speaks @blurredcolour @pearlparty

[sirenedeslily]

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐎 ‎𐦍 𝐦atthew 𝐬turniolo

❛ adore me, hold me and explore me. ❜

(⊹ֹ 𝐢𝐧 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 ) ──── ⟢ your shy, out-of-place boyfriend navigates the glamorous chaos of new york fashion week to support his supermodel girlfriend.

𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌 was nothing short of surreal, and for matt, it might as well have been another planet. the glossy black suvs, the red carpets rolled out in front of towering venues, the swarms of paparazzi snapping photos like their lives depended on it — none of it was remotely close to the quiet, grounded life he was used to.

matt wasn’t a model. he wasn’t famous. he was just a boy from boston who followed his brother to la for a hockey scholarship, who spent most of his free time in oversized hoodies, playing video games or studying. he wasn’t made for the spotlight — and certainly not for the world of high fashion.

but he was here, and he was here for you.

the two of you had arrived at the venue, his hand nervously gripping yours as you led him through the chaos. your name was everywhere, from the lips of stylists hurrying backstage to the flashes of cameras that seemed to follow your every step. matt had known dating a model would come with some attention, but this? this was insane.

he felt out of place, like a little kid on his first day of school, wide-eyed and trying not to trip over his own feet. you, on the other hand, were in your element. you glided through the crowd, exchanging greetings with designers and fellow models like you had been born into this world. and maybe you had. but matt? matt was just some guy who liked to take blurry photos of you laughing during game nights or falling asleep with your face squished against his chest.

"you okay, honey?" you asked, your voice soft and laced with concern as you glanced over at him, his doe eyes scanning the room with a mixture of awe and terror.

matt swallowed nervously, nodding. "yeah, just... there’s a lot of people."

you chuckled, squeezing his hand. "welcome to fashion week, baby."

the show hadn’t even started yet, and matt was already sweating. he fidgeted with his collar, tugging at it like it was strangling him, though you had reassured him a thousand times that he looked amazing. he didn’t believe you. he never did. especially not now, surrounded by a sea of perfectly styled, impossibly tall people.

matt was, for lack of a better word, a dork. he still had an instagram account that only existed so he could stalk your posts, his notifications constantly buzzing with every new photo you uploaded. he knew how to tie a perfect ribbon into your hair but couldn’t figure out how to post his own stories without fumbling. and yet, here he was, sitting front row at one of the most exclusive shows in the world, like he somehow belonged.

but when the lights dimmed, and the show finally began, he forgot all about how out of place he felt.

he knew you were coming out soon, had watched you rehearse your walk in front of the mirror, had seen you practice that fierce, unattainable look in your eyes — the one that made people gasp when you stepped onto the runway. but nothing prepared him for seeing you in that moment.

when you walked out under the blinding lights, every camera turning toward you, matt’s heart did a funny little flip. his breath caught in his throat. he’d seen you countless times — in sweats, in pjs, in fancy dresses, even without makeup first thing in the morning — but this? this was something else.

you looked like a goddess, ethereal in a way that made everyone in the room stop and stare. but matt didn’t see the untouchable model everyone else saw. he didn’t see the girl on the magazine covers, the one plastered across billboards. he saw his girl. the same one who insisted on matching rings with their initials engraved into them, the one who made him binge-watch romcoms just because. the one who, even now, was probably holding back a laugh at how starstruck he looked.

and when you made it halfway down the runway, your eyes glanced toward the audience, finding his face in the sea of strangers. you didn’t smile, didn’t break character, but there was a flicker in your gaze — a secret, silent exchange between the two of you. It was all matt needed.

he fumbled for his phone, almost dropping it in his lap as he shakily tried to capture the moment. his hands were sweaty, the screen smudged, but he managed to snap a few photos of you as you turned at the end of the runway and made your way back.

by the time the show was over, matt was grinning like a fool, his face flushed with pride. he turned to the person next to him — some sleek fashion editor or designer, he didn’t know — and blurted out, “that’s my girlfriend.”

the editor raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the enthusiasm of this awkward boy sitting in the front row, but matt didn’t care. he was too busy replaying the sight of you on that runway in his mind, too proud to be embarrassed.

backstage was even more chaotic, but you found Matt waiting for you, standing awkwardly by the snack table, clutching a bottle of water like it was a lifeline. when you rushed over to him, still glowing from the adrenaline of the show, matt’s face lit up.

"did you see me?" you asked, breathless, your eyes wide with excitement.

matt nodded, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "are you kidding? i got, like, fifty pictures. you looked amazing, princess. like... unreal."

you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. "i can’t believe you’re here."

"me neither," he mumbled into your hair, still a little dazed by the whole experience. "i feel like I’m in a movie or something."

you pulled back, gazing up at him with a soft smile. "my pretty boy, thank you for doing this."

matt shrugged, blushing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "i just... wanted to be here for you. even if i have no idea what’s going on most of the time."

the two of you managed to escape the afterparties and crowded events later that night, slipping away to a quiet rooftop overlooking the new york skyline. matt had planned it, knowing how much you hated the post-show madness. he had brought a blanket, some snacks, and set up a little picnic under the stars. it was simple — nothing like the extravagant parties going on below — but it was perfect for the two of you.

as you sat beside him, wrapped in the blanket, your head resting on his shoulder, matt couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. you, the girl who could make headlines just by walking down the street, had chosen him. him, the boy who couldn’t even figure out how to post on instagram without asking you first.

"next time," you murmured, your voice sleepy and content, "i’m dragging you to the milan shows."

matt chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "only if you promise to make me look cool in-front of asap and tyler."

"deal," you whispered, your fingers lacing with his under the stars.

ᨳུ⠀𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @l34n @sturniolossss @eternaldecisions @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @chratts-left-ball @fiowerbeds @fratbrochrisgf @jetaimevous 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 🎀🐇

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ requested fic based on this ask, and i’m hoping it didn’t disappoint. the drastic 360 from my last fic is laughable 😭😭 buuut 1.2k w.c !!! also did anyone notice the new acc setup it’s giving that sullen blythe girl realness :3

my inbox is always open !!! pls feed it some content ꫶ࣺ᭮᭰ likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated. xoxo

© SIRENEDESLILY

[hedgehog-moss]

I meant to go admire a frozen waterfall yesterday, but I'm scared of driving on slippery roads so I ended up abandoning my car and my dreams and just wandering about by foot, following random roads.

(These first two photos are a little bit blurry because I took them while walking, but it does give them a certain je ne sais quoi... They look like childhood memories)

The soles of my boots had zero grip and were therefore great for sliding, so I ended up taking two sticks and using them like cross-country skiing poles to propel myself forward on the iciest portions of the road. It was fun! Pandolf thought I was insane. He was being extremely prudent on the icy patches, testing each step:

At the beginning of our walk he was prancing as usual but then at one point his front paws slipped forward without warning, turning him into a very long slinky dog. It was pretty funny. I laughed. I admit. He wasn't hurt but definitely a bit vexed.

We did leave the icy road on numerous occasions, to slip under fences and cross promising pastures (promising = lots of footprints; potential friends.) We met several creatures! Like this adorable shetland pony—I tried to take a photo from afar, with Pandolf nearby for scale, to show how scandalously tiny he was, but that turned out to be impossible because he was too friendly. Every time I took a step back he took two steps forward. Clearly he thought he was even better-looking from up close.

We also ran into the darling goat I mentioned yesterday, and I was told by several people on here that she looked more like a ewe.

Sorry for the mistake! But also I tried to look further into this and became more and more confused, as every source that mentioned a foolproof way to tell goats from sheep was disproven by another source—I found one that said sheep had a split upper lip while goats didn't (and my mystery friend didn't), but then another website contradicted it. I ended up with 32 tabs open with photos of goats and sheep of all kinds, some of which looked downright bizarre (what's with the Jar Jar Binks ears), and I began losing my grasp on the concept of animal species altogether. I understood how Darwin must have felt when he tried to figure out the differences between species of barnacles and asked people to send him various specimens and ended up with giant teetering piles of wet smelly boxes full of barnacles in his study that threatened to collapse and bury him alive. Then I closed my 32 tabs.

Honestly ever since learning that some sheep have horns and some goats don't, I've been lost. Not to mention, our mystery girl had a sheep-like tail but a goat-like beard. Are there sheep out there with beards and if yes, how do we make sense of the world? We should be able to point at a mammal with a goatee and say "goat" without doubting ourselves. That's my manifesto.

Whatever she was, the goat-ewe was very sweet, and she baa-ed a lot—at first I thought she was making conversation and I politely baa-ed back, before realising she was calling her horse bodyguards, just in case. Two horses soon showed up from behind a tree, very "What seems to be the problem ma'am?"

I offered nose scritches to the friendliest of the two and she went to report to the goat like "We've neutralised the threat."

Let me insert another (blurry) photo of a travelling Pandolf to symbolise the passing of time before moving on to our last encounter:

... I also had trouble taking photos of this one at first, because she kept coming closer to inspect my scarf—I thought she wanted to explore my pockets for potential treats like Pirlouit often does but no, she was very interested in the smell (texture?) of my scarf specifically.

The sky had cleared as we went down from 1300 to 1100m, as if we'd slipped under the clouds, so I tried to take a photo of this nice late-afternoon sky, and the horse finally stopped focusing on my scarf and instead started insistently positioning herself between me and my beautiful landscape.

Look at this lovely golden light in the snow over there which I was almost able to capture!

Meanwhile her pasture mate was eating a whole broom plant, slowly and thoughtfully, which makes me jealous because my llamas are supposed to eat brooms and they mostly don't, they think they're too good for brooms. They eat the very young ones but not adult brooms, so I have to do the work of three llamas and cut them myself. I wish I could send the Pampses as interns in this pasture, to learn the art of brush-clearing from this wise old horse.

I tried to take one last landscape photo and gave up when the aspiring model came to pose again.

Where was Pandolf, you might ask? Pandolf doesn't trust horses, especially large farm horses, and was quietly and insistently trying to convince me to leave. When Model Horse tried to greet him (it looks like she's chasing him but no, she was just stretching her neck to sniff him) he beat a hasty retreat toward the icy road, his former enemy. Some guard dog.

It may sound like Pandolf didn't have a very fun time on this walk, slipping on ice and running from horses, but don't worry, he found plenty of suitable empty pastures to practise his favourite hobby! Though I think at this point he has moved beyond a hobbyist and is ready to play in professional leagues. He does this thing now where he jumps up a bit to gain momentum; I don't remember him doing this last winter. He's an entirely self-taught dog (in the art of snow diving) and I'm proud of him.

[luveline]

Hey jade!! i love your writing so much<3

Also what do you think of prison!spencer × Stripper!reader?👀

im not sure if this is what you meant but I hope you like it ♡ fem, 1.2k

"Too much," you murmur to yourself, tilting your head one way and then the other. The bags under your eyes have been dark lately from a severe lack of sleep, but all this makeup won't help make tips. "Way too much." 

You lean back to ask one of the girls for a wet wipe but the dressing room is empty. Swearing to yourself, you duck down for your bag. You have tissues, and they'll have to do it. 

Things have been hard since Spencer's… event. You don't sleep well without him, worse wondering what it is he's going through right now. His friends don't really know that you're seeing one another, and so being kept in the loop has felt akin to begging for scraps. You miss Agent Hotchner in times like this. He always had a soft spot for you. 

You hum a song under your breath as you rub the cakey makeup under your eyes. Washing your face would be nice. Going home would be better. You've been trying to make some extra money in case Spencer never comes home; you won't have his security to fall back on if things fall apart here. 

You don't want his security. You just want him to come home. Sighing, you pick up your phone and open the gallery app. It's a second hand thing you got at a pawn shop but it has enough storage to keep as many blurry photos of your boyfriend as you'd like. Pictures of him everywhere and doing everything, his big smile like a beacon. 

You stop scrolling when you find the one you want. It's favourited with a red heart at the bottom of the screen. Spencer took it, you remember —you were too busy kissing his cheek to navigate the settings. He looks happy. You could never understand how happy he is to be with you, how through everything, a long time of knowing one another and a hundred thousand acts of a kindness you didn't deserve, he's stayed by your side. He doesn't care that you're a dancer. He's proud of your choices. He loves you for you, even if he does get a little jealous every now and then. 

You lay your phone down on the dressing table, cheek flat beside it. "Time to come home, Dr. Reid," you whisper. 

Your phone pings and you ignore it. It pings again and you turn off your notifications. It's probably Spencer's nice friend Penelope, or one of the girls wanting to borrow something. 

You shed your robe to look yourself over in the mirror. The lingerie you're in tonight's not to your taste but a fan favourite, the bra and underwear both plum in colour with lace and black garters to be clipped. You turn to one side and narrow your gaze at a ladder running up your leg. 

You save a bottle of clear nail polish in your bag for this occasion. 

You're sitting on the floor with your leg out in front of you when someone knocks on the door. The girls don't knock. 

If it's a patron you have a taser, and besides, they don't usually knock either. A bouncer, then. 

"Come in, please!" you call lightly. 

You don't bother looking up, a creature of habit. It'll be the same thing as usual, insert man wants to buy insert dance from you for insert amount of time. Are you interested? 

You hum as you paint the rip in your garter. The nail polish will stop it from ripping any further, but you're going to need new ones. 

"You're prettier than when I left. How did you do that?" 

You tip the bottle over as you flinch, you don't care, you look up at the compliment and the familiar voice, and find Spencer standing in the doorway. 

You've pictured this moment multiple times a day since the day he was arrested, hundreds of reactions. In pretty much all of them you throw yourself into his arms and beg him not to leave again, but all those hours of missing him coalesce on top of you. You want desperately to touch him and you end up crying into your hands instead. Tears quicker than you knew they could arrive, hot and thick as your sob. 

"Hey," Spencer says, kneeling down in front of you. He takes your wrists into his hands. "Hey… don't cry." 

You can't help it. 

He wraps his arms around you and lets you sob. "I thought you'd be happy to see me," he murmurs. 

"I missed you," you say, the words dragged from you like agony on a hook. 

"I missed you too." He rubs your back. If he cares that you're in your underwear he doesn't have much to say about it. He eventually started making jokes about all of this stuff when he realised you wouldn't be offended, but he's never cruel about anything. He's far from it now, pulling your shoulder into his chest as he pats your arms. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm really sorry. It got out of control. But, on the bright side…" 

You sniffle and pull your gaze up to his face. When you see the hollows of his cheeks you almost start crying again. "What?" you ask. 

"Well, now I'm cool enough to be your boyfriend." 

You push him backwards and crawl into his lap, knees on either side of him, weight against his abdomen. Your arms weave behind his head and you push your cheek into his likely too hard to be painless. He just sighs in relief. 

"Do you have something in your pocket?" you whisper, your voice stuffy. "Or was prison very hard?" 

He laughs and digs in between you to pull the little box that had been digging into you out of his pocket. "It's for you." 

"Don't want it." 

"I don't care if you want it. I missed our anniversary." 

"I missed you," you say, clinging to him for dear life.

You can't stop hugging him long enough to look. 

Eventually, he peels you off of the floor and you get dressed to go home with him. It takes a long time —you keep stopping to hug him between items of clothing, checking that he's real, that's he's him, even if he looks different now. He has to take the reins or you'll never make it home, pulling your coat over your shoulders and zipping it closed. 

When he's done, he takes your face into both hands. "You've been safe while I was gone? No trouble?" he asks. 

"Nobody messes with me. My boyfriend's in the FBI." 

"Well, we're taking a vacation." He blows out a big breath. "Jesus, I'm sorry, but I really need to kiss you right now." 

"Even though I look junky?" 

"You look perfect." He kisses you before he's finished, his praise smothered by your lips. He kisses you so hard you can't breathe by the end of it. "I'm sorry," he says, pressing a softer one under your eye. "Prison was actually pretty hard." You lean in, lingering nose to nose with him. "I couldn't sleep without you near me." 

"You're only saying that 'cos you saw me in my underwear." 

"Yeah, that's exactly why." He practically giggles. "No, I just love you."

You couldn't sleep without him either. You get home and sleep for days, tangled with each other in bedraggled sheets. 

[haikyu-mp4]

Fussy

word count; 1176 – f!reader

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

You already know the captain of your school’s volleyball team. Sometimes you wondered if Kuroo knew everyone. The two of you have a lot of classes together and you would be lying if you said you hated hearing his charming comments and finding fun ways to quip back at him. Perhaps you even developed a little crush. So when you decided on the project for your club, you asked him with the biggest possible doe eyes to approve it and help get his players to cooperate. He was more than happy to help you and arrange everything, despite telling you that you owe him.

Fortunately, the first years were easy. Absolute sweethearts that were so excited to show off. You had almost finished with the second-years when you met your first obstacle of the day, unless you count Lev being too tall for you to photograph without a stool to stand on and Inuoka not being able to stand still so most of the pictures ended up slightly blurry. No, this was an actual problem.

Kenma was having a bad day and didn’t want to.

Nekoma’s pampered prince was really not in the mood for this today, and with every pose you didn’t approve of as good enough, he got more fussy. His facial expressions were very expressive, especially now that he was annoyed, it just wasn’t the emotion you wanted. You sighed and stomped your foot a little, looking at him with a slight frown. “Can’t you try a little harder, Kenma?”

“Does it really matter? Just use the first ones,” he complained, sounding incredibly bored.

You were trying to resist saying you would snitch on him to Kuroo like a little kid, but it was getting gradually more difficult. “This project is important to me, I want to make all of you look good.”

“Are you saying I look ugly?” Okay, now he was being childish. The two of you glared at each other for a second before Yamamoto stepped in to yell at his teammate about how a pretty girl needed their help and Kuroo told them to do everything you say and then hurry back to practice. On the contrary, that only made Kenma more apathetic. “I won’t start posing up a storm just because Kuroo has a crush on her.”

You froze, biting your lip as a blush flushed over your cheeks at the reveal. He has a crush on you? Yamamoto started waving his hands as if stressed about the information being revealed, but he only stuttered out a few syllables that didn’t turn into anything usable. You pick up your camera and look through the pictures you had taken of Kenma again, still chewing on your lip as you try to focus on the task at hand. “Can you do this again, please? Last one.” You held up the camera to show him the reference photo and he silently agreed, standing ready for you. You change the angle a bit and do your best to adjust the lighting before finally dismissing the second-years. When Kenma was about to leave, you carefully tapped his shoulder, not really meeting his eyes. “Is it true? About Kuroo…”

Kenma heard his best friend talk about you all the time. Your wit and charm matched his and he was especially obsessed with how you started doing your hair lately. The setter didn’t look so annoyed with you anymore, which made you glad. “Yes. Please date him or something so he’ll stop whining to me about it.”

You were a bit nervous when the third-years arrived, switching between avoiding Kuroo and coming on too strong. How do you act when you know someone you like likes you back?

Yaku and Kai were great, following your instructions and easily giving you several options for what photo to use of each. As Kuroo stepped up to the plate, he talked to you while you got the camera ready and fetched the little stool you used for the first years. “I hope no one gave you any trouble today,” he said, sounding like he would rather have a normal conversation right now.

“Your best friend and I got into it but we came to an agreement,” you said, gaining a bit more confidence as you went along. That made him chuckle, a fond look on his face as he didn’t doubt Kenma would fight the spotlight. You smiled at him before holding up the camera again, making sure the lens was on him when you kept talking. “I didn’t know you had a crush on me!”

Oh, the betrayal. As Yaku’s laughter burst behind you, you watched through the camera lens as Kuroo faltered and his smile fell, snapping as many photos as you could. His face suddenly matched the uniform and his shoulders were sky-high. “Huh?” he said. He was flustered, brain trying desperately to decide if he should deny it or follow the flow. Damn it, Kenma. Suddenly, Kuroo regretted how he had stolen some of Kenma’s snacks earlier. “You’re not going to use those pictures, are you?” he ended up saying, unusually awkward. It was fun, seeing Kuroo stumble.

Yaku and Kai end up throwing in a little comment about being finished anyway and leaving the area, giving the two of you some space. When he came back to the gym, Yaku threw an arm over Kenma’s shoulder and ruffled his hair, giving him a confusing mix of praise and scolding.

Meanwhile, you were smiling at Kuroo as he stepped a little closer to you. “Of course not, they’re for my special collection.” You wiggled your eyebrows and Kuroo finally felt his shoulders relax a little.

“I did say you owe me one for this project, how about I take you out this weekend?” he asked, usual charm back in place along with his crooked smirk.

“That sounds great, Tetsuro,” you agreed, taking a moment to say anything else as you stared at him up close. Your cheeks were burning at this point and you fumbled with the camera. “Now, come on. We have to show off Nekoma’s captain!”

“You got it, boss.”

/please note that Yaku calls Kenma their «pampered prince» in season 4, so that is not me making a nasty comment about Kenma. I just think it’s a very cute nickname that fit the scenario!

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust @nagi-core

[6okuto]

gn!reader | iwaizumi will do a lot of things if you ask, but he's always a little awkward and embarrassed about taking photos of himself. what angle does he use, why's the lighting so bad, this is his "no one will see me" t-shirt, does his smile look forced, etc, etc., which means you only ask every once and a while, mostly as a joke, and never mind when he brushes it off with a laugh.

so when you open your messages to see an unprompted selfie of him, blurry, sitting in dim light, cheeks flushed and biting his lip to stop a grin, shocked is one word you can use to describe yourself. apparently drunk hajime is different from sober hajime, and confident enough to send a second, third photo capturing his night out with his old teammates at karaoke.

and you're not sure if it was their idea or his, but you really can't bring yourself to complain when he accidentally sends a video instead of a photo that perfectly frames his slightly unbuttoned top, messy hair that he runs his fingers through (he's brought up needing a haircut every week for the past month, but keeps pushing off setting an appointment), and raspy laugh as he tells someone off screen to shut up and sing already before turning to you with a smile.

"oh, shit, it's a video."

"pft, are you really that drunk?"

"hiii," someone—you think tooru—singsongs your name.

another complains, his voice muffled by your boyfriend moving the camera, "ugh, can you move over?"

"hi babe." hajime's low, slurred voice brings your attention back to him. "i got 94 on m'last song, jus' so y'know.

"let it go! that was all luck—"

"shut up, it's not my fault y'got 67 and sound like a dying bird. ugh," he seems to lose his train of thought and sniffles. "uh...don't worry, issei's driving m'back. i'll tell you 'bout it when i get home. see you soon, alright? love you."

the video ends, cutting off the beginning of a voice crack and off-pitch note, and the responding cackle that momentarily fills the quiet of your living room.

it's not a hard decision to save everything he's sent to your phone. the real hard decision will be tomorrow, you think, when you have to decide between teasing him to death or helping with his hangover. but then you get another notification—another text from him that reads "Cany ou tell them i'm not gonna sing adell" and you smile.

you can probably do both.

(he does end up singing, but so does everyone else. the video you get is way too loud, and way too close to the microphone, and the phone falls to the floor at some point, but it's saved to your gallery anyway. he makes you promise not to play it the next morning because it's "so headache inducing he could explode.")

[another-lost-mc]

Can you imagine the om! cast flirting with mc and thinking they're mc's only romantic interest when mc already has a booty call at RAD? There are no feelings involved, just intimacy, but still. I think the cast is too arrogant to ever think mc could be interested in anyone else.

(English is not my native language, so please excuse any possible mistakes)

a/n: that’s fair! I mean, mc has needs too, right? maybe trying to hook up with one of the avatars is daunting, but a hot lower-ranking demon lord who promises a good time every once in a while? that could be fun.

➤ when they find out you have a fwb | the demon brothers

0.9k words | nsfw | suggestive | gn!reader

c/w: jealousy and implied dark themes/sketchy behaviour squints at beel and belphie

read more: the dateables | when solomon is your fwb

Lucifer finds it hard to believe at first. Once he knows the demon’s name, he watches you two interact more closely. He picks up on the shared glances and flirtatious touches he somehow missed before. He’s been stewing in his own desires and feelings for you all this time because he wasn’t sure the best way to declare his intentions. He thought subtlety and patience would be best, but perhaps he can admit just this once that he was mistaken. Learning about your dalliances with someone else finally gives him the push to show you what a real demon lover can offer you. Once you have the Avatar of Pride to warm your bed, you'll be satisfied with no one else but him.

Mammon is one part incredulous, one part jealous, and just a teensy bit turned on. He can’t stop staring at the blurry photo Asmo managed to take of you sneaking out of a utility closet at RAD. His cock twitches when he takes in the image of your rumpled clothes and the way your forehead glistens from a light sheen of sweat. He wants to make you look like that, not some random nobody that doesn't deserve you. His mind races when he imagines his own fingers tugging your clothes aside for better access to your naked body. What did you sound like when you tried to muffle your moans so no one would hear you? Mammon would give anything to take that demon’s place. Y’know, both of you have a spare period after lunch—would you follow him into one of the dark corners of RAD for a little fun if he offered? Maybe it’s time for him to find out.

Levi is seething. Mostly he’s angry and jealous and he wants to tear the building to pieces. He’s also ashamed because the fantasy of you dragging him into an empty room at RAD for a midday fuck is hot as hell. He doesn’t think he deserves you, but he knows that the demon you’re fucking doesn’t either. What do they have that he doesn’t? He’s burning with curiosity about your little affair, but he’s incensed by the idea that he might not be good enough for you. Envy can make him a little desperate. He's tempted to beg you for even a morsel of your love and affection. If he's pathetic enough, maybe you'll even take pity on him and oblige.

Satan is furious because he should’ve realized something was going on. The signs are all there and he missed them somehow. It takes all his willpower not to hunt down your little demon friend for daring to touch you that way. Satan is well-versed in human world literature—maybe declaring his intentions with a romantic gesture would convince you to give him a chance instead? Or maybe sweet and romantic love isn’t what you crave. If fast and rough is more to your tastes, all you need to do is mention your friend’s name—you’ll be too fucked out of your mind to remember it by the time he’s finished with you.

Asmo’s reactions are all over the place: he’s giddy that you’re so daring (fucking at RAD of all places!); he’s devastated that you turned to someone else instead of coming to him; and he’s frustrated that he didn’t realize sooner this was even happening. He pays more attention after he catches you the first time, and it seems so obvious when the current of lust between you and your friend flickers with interest throughout the school day. He finds reasons to keep you two from sneaking off together and pretends he’s not jealous every time he interferes. Perhaps when you’re frustrated enough, he can finally entice you to join him for a little pampering session in his room. You seem so frustrated today! But don’t worry—he knows exactly what you need to loosen up.

Beel is one of the few demons that understands what hunger and starvation feels like. Sometimes you need to do whatever it takes to satisfy those cravings, even on a temporary basis. You’re important to him, and he cherishes your friendship. He’s hidden his true desires from you because he doesn’t want to risk losing control if he’s too hasty, too rough, or too demanding before you're ready to embrace being with someone like him. His love is all-consuming and you're a constant strain on his self-control. If you weren’t turning to someone else for affection, maybe he could be patient and satisfy his urges for you elsewhere. Now that he knows someone else has had a taste of you, he wants you even more. When he finally confesses his desire to be with you, he hopes for both your sakes that you feel the same.

Belphie lashes out with barbed insults and backhanded compliments to hide his own hurt and jealousy. You’re not that bad looking for a human, I guess it was only a matter of time before someone wanted to fuck you. Once he learns the truth about that demon you’ve been fooling around with, he’s suddenly glued to your hip like he can’t stand to be parted from you. He’s selfish with your time and clings to you in his bed during naps. He sneaks his way into your dreams because he wants to make sure you’re not dreaming of anyone else. He might even have a private chat with your little friend, but he doesn’t tell you since it’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s a shame that your fuck buddy suddenly decides to call things off between you after that. At least you still have Belphie to comfort you and wipe away your tears. He appreciates you, even if that random asshole doesn’t—the only demon you ever needed has been here for you all along.

[pinksilkribbons]

COLLAGE: yan! classmate

CW/TW: non-consensual candid photos, elijah has a shrine of [name], mentions of praying to and basically viewing another human being as god, small implication of a boner, general yandere stuff ig.

You guys my last post on Elijah got quite a few likes I’m so glad y’all like him!! He’s my least developed OC so i decided to write more on him and develop his character. I’ll post some of my others soon!

Ever since he bought his new polaroid, Elijah has discovered a new side of himself. At the beginning he’d only taken pictures of you and hung them around his closet.

But eventually…he grew tired of it. Not of his darling, no! Of course not! But…it was rather difficult to sneak photos of you without getting caught. Not to mention the majority of them turned out blurry anyway.

Something needed to change.

He didn’t just want pictures of you at school. He wanted pictures of everything. When you’re angry, when you’re sad, when you’re eating. Pictures in normal clothes instead of a school uniform for fucks sake!

In the beginning school was the easiest (and only) way he could gain access to you, but now it’s proving to make his job that much harder. There’s too many risks involved.

With a dramatic sigh he shut his closet door, making sure to click the padlock into place. After hanging so many pictures of you on his closet walls he decided it would be wise to invest in a lock.

He knows it isn’t normal. Taking pictures of people without asking isn’t normal. Being so deeply obsessed with someone isn’t normal.

But not being normal doesn’t make him bad. Just…more passionate!

“Hey mama?”, He asks, trudging down the stairs.

His mother turns away from her phone with a quick glance his way. Her head tilts up as if to silently ask him what he needs.

“You aren’t using these magazines anymore, are you?”

A small stack of magazines with a bunch of ‘trendy fashion’ labels catches his eye. On the front cover a young lady with blonde hair is posed in a field of flowers. The lady, however, isn’t what he’s interested in.

She laughs playfully and watches Elijah pick up the stack. “Well, not exactly. But why do you need them? I’ve never known you to be interested in fashion.”

Elijah feels a rush of red to his cheeks. A part of him feel dirty. Perverted, even. It’s clear his mother is implying something dirty, and while she isn’t even wrong, he’s probably planning something much worse than whatever she’s imagining right now.

It takes a few good seconds for his mind to come up with a plausible excuse. “W-well, I’m not interested in fashion! I just need some material for this project in art class.”

Luckily his mom doesn’t question him further. She definitely rolled her eyes at him though, clearly not believing his story.

As soon as he makes it back to his room Elijah is quick on his feet. He rushes over to his closet so quickly he almost falls over. A pulse of excitement gushes through his body as he begins to unlock his closet door.

The password to which is his darlings birthday, of course!

Upon opening the door, one wouldn’t suspect much of anything. Clothes, shoes, some random boxes, but nothing out of the ordinary. The real magic is in the far right corner, at the very bottom of the wall.

So far his collection is pretty small. The few photos he does have are all taped beside one another, carefully placed to ensure nothing is crooked or overlaps with the other. This small corner is Elijah’s entire life.

He lives and breathes [Name]. In fact, every morning, without fail, he finds himself in this exact position; sitting on his knees, admiring his darling. He bows his head and prays to your existence.

The amount of sheer joy your being grants him should never be taken lightly. Elijah is a good boy. He’s thankful. And He proves it every single morning.

“I feel kinda bad, cutting up her picture like this”, he mumbled to himself. His hands carefully maneuvered the scissors, making sure to save as much of his darlings face as possible.

Believe it or not it came out pretty good! Next he needed to cut the cover from his mom’s fashion magazine, which proved to be the real challenge.

The blonde lady on the cover was dressed in a blue flowy sundress. From the moment he saw it Elijah knew that dress was meant to be his darlings. The chances of him getting a real photo of you in this dress were zero, but he’d like to think he’s quite creative!

To finalize his creation he glued [Name]’s head onto the models face, successfully dressing her in the beautiful gown. Just imagining her in such an outfit had his heart racing and pants tightening.

It made him feel proud knowing he found a way to grow his collection while also reducing the risk of getting caught. Next time he visited the library, Elijah would be sure to pick up a few books on collaging.

You truly did bring out a new side of him. Who knew he was so artistic?

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

‘ Blurry, Tired Eyes ’

A Drunk! Megumi Fushiguro x Male! Reader | SMUT |

A/N ; Yooooo, ngl, I’m running on zero right now yet I’m still doing this shit so sorry in advance. I don’t know how I honestly found the strength in me. It’s currently two in the morning and my ass is still up. Wide awake. So, I decided I was going to make this and finish it anyway. While staying up the entire night. Ain’t that fun? Anyway, here’s some random guilty pleasure prompt and peep the contents below.

Contents ; Masturbation, inexperienced reader, groping, drunk sex, praise, and daddy issues.

Dynamic ; Best Friends To Lovers

Sexual Dynamic ; Sub!Male!Reader | Dom!Megumi

P.O.V ; Second

Age range ; 18+ 21+

To be honest, you weren’t expecting this many people to show up after announcing the birthday party for Fushiguro. But, here you were, faced with an impending crowd all shoved up against one another, grinding and doing every inexplicable thing as they danced. I guess it’s what you get for entrusting Satoru with the planning.

This was the worst. You hated these types of celebrations and you knew Megumi hated them too. It didn’t help that you happened to be claustrophobic and everybody was sweating. Your face scrunched up, grossed out by the smell of liquor and onions. This was pure puke bait.

“And why the fuck does everybody have to be a whore?” You complained out loud before realizing you did so and watched a bunch of heads turn to look in your direction. That was not supposed to be said out-loud.

You took that as your cue to use your technique to disappear into the shadows and escape out of the situation by traveling to another place in the building. Although, it was extremely straining and gave you a headache once you made it into one of the hallways. Time to look for the birthday boy you’ve been trying to find all day.

Gazing up at the pictures that were hanging about, you looked over a couple that had your peers, hovering over to the stoic frowning Fushiguro who bore his eyes directly into the camera in the photo.

A small smile crossed your face, laughing a little at the memory of Itadori harassing the ravenette until he snapped just before it. Those two were always bickering back and forth, never giving each other a break, not once. It was entertaining to watch them chase each other around. Sometimes, joining in on it when it got out of hand. But, it was usually to hold Megumi back from killing the dumb guy.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself, maybe you also helped because you felt left out. The twinges of jealousy when Yuuji would get too close to his face or he’d get in a position with him that looked risqué. Either way, it formed a knot in your throat and you couldn’t help including yourself.

But, that couldn’t mean much. You figured it was because you were overprotective that this feeling frequently came to mind. Megumi had been your exclusive best friend for a couple of years by now. That had to be normal.

A part of you knew that there was more to it than what you were acknowledging. Though, you didn’t want to elaborate on it. There was no point in figuring something like that out if you hadn’t even crossed the flirting stage. And you didn’t know if he was interested in men.

The noise of an object thudding on the ground in the nearby room knocked you out of your mind ramble, causing you to jump in surprise before narrowing your (E/C) eyes at the door. You could sense it wasn’t a curse so that was good. That didn’t mean you were any less curious about who it was.

As you walked toward it, you could hear sounds from the other side getting clearer and clearer. And they didn’t sound innocent. It was groaning and huffing, desperate too. But, not just from anyone, no. This was the familiar voice of the boy you were thinking about a second ago.

Like a hypocrite, your heart felt like it was about to break. ‘He couldn’t be hooking up with somebody, right?’ you worriedly asked in thought, a wave of emotions washing over you before another loud moan muffled through the wooden door.

There was no way you were going to stop yourself from figuring it out after that. Apologizing to Megumi under your breath, you reached for the door knob and opened it to something you never expected to see instead.

The raven-haired male was completely naked from head to toe, leaning over a trash can with his left hand placed on the wall while the other was rubbing up and down his shaft.

His hair was drenched with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead, and his chest glistened in the lamp light. There were veins popping from his arms, neck, and most of all, his dick. His thumb focusing on his tip every couple of pumps as he mumbled out questions, “Fuck, why do I have to get so hard? Why won’t it go away?”

‘Jesus, fucking, Christ,’ was the only thing you could think. You were watching your best friend touch himself, bare. And it wasn’t taking you much before you were struggling right alongside him. The front of your pants tightening and a bulge poking through the fabric.

He noticed your presence once he adjusted to fucking his hand and took a minute to process, his dark blue eyes slowly widening as he stared back at you. You didn’t say anything, choked up by anxiety. Leaving the two of you to stand in silence, waiting for either one of you to break it.

Megumi covered himself with the sweater resting on the desk near him, eventually speaking up while trying to shake off the shock of being caught, “How long have you been standing there?” A red hue spread across both yours and his cheeks as you struggled to make eye contact. How come he had the ability to be so direct even during something like this? It was a quality that you liked, regardless.

You answered him in a quiet voice, “It’s been a couple of minutes…” Lowering your head out of embarrassment but not looking away entirely. You had just enough access to see what he was doing. And in that peripheral vision, you saw his attention flicker downwards.

Quickly, you hid your hard-on with your hands. Although, Megumi knew exactly what that gesture meant so it wasn’t successful. You could tell from the way his eyebrows switched from furrowed to raised like he was surprised. Then how more silence followed.

Not a single chance in hell were you going to look directly at him again, not when he was staring you down like this. You were hoping, praying to god that he wouldn’t point fingers despite not believing in that which meant you knew you were screwed. Was your friendship finally going to end here? What did this mean for the rest of the friends that are connected to you both? Panic was settling in the more he let you stand there.

“Can you close the door? I want to talk to you,” he asked bluntly after what felt like forever and honestly, that made your fear worse. “Please don’t say we can’t be friends because of this,” you interjected before he said anything else and closed the door like he suggested.

Fushiguro laughed through his nose and grumbled as if he was offended that you thought that, “Why would I want to end our friendship because you caught me jerking off, [F/N]?” Hearing him say it so casual made you get the comfortability to look at him again, seeing that he was picking up his clothes and acting like nothing happened.

He let you watch him get dressed, his back facing you the entire time, but you got the whole show. How he snapped his boxers around his waist, the indents in his back as well as the scars, and how his hair sprung back up into the spiky hairstyle he loved to style it in after he pulled his shirt over his head. You didn’t mean to stare, but it was really hard not to when you secretly admitted the feelings you have to yourself. And you just saw him masturbating. You saw his…

Not trying to finish that sentence in your head, you moved on by walking over to an outlet in what appeared to be an old classroom and kneeled down next to it to plug in the charger you brought. Thank god, you have an excuse now.

Awkwardly snapping it inside of the lightning port of your phone, you left it resting on a windowsill and turned to face Megumi. He was back in the outfit you had given him for his birthday. A cerulean sleeveless top with black Nike sweatpants. It was simple, yet he made it look like gold.

“Are you going to answer or are you going to keep checking me out?” He tilted his head, those wolf-shaped eyes of his burrowing into yours and making you unable to pry them away.

Your breath caught in your throat and all at once, thoughts became jumbled and you couldn’t figure out a thing to respond with. He was acting so careless just a second ago but now, he was flat out telling you that he knew what you were doing. What was going on?

Megumi sighed and rolled his eyes, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious you liked what you saw. Your dick’s been rock solid this whole time.” He nodded his head toward your lower half, causing you to choke on your spit, and sputter, “What? No! No! I’m just drunk…” You struggled to breathe and had to hit your chest to help yourself. Hopefully, this excuse will hold up.

But, it didn’t. The ravenette began to walk towards you, his abyssal blue orbs never leaving yours once while you froze there. Until he was right in front of your face and glancing at your lips. “That’s convenient. I’m a little tipsy myself…” he said softly, looking back up through his long eyelashes.

God, he was so beautiful. You were beginning to fall for his tricks already. But, you didn’t care about how fast you went for it, you cared about the fact he was showing interest.

The pretty boy pushed forward, his hands placing themselves on either side of your head as his nose connected with yours. Your breathing escalated. This was happening. It was happening. He was going to kiss you.

Your eyelids fluttered shut while both of your lips locked with one another. His lips softer than a cloud and the pressure enough to relieve the tension in you. You had been waiting for this for so long. The tugging between his mouth and yours. When his teeth pressed into your bottom lip or how his lashes brushed against your skin. He tasted like Sake and somewhat bitterly sweet like dark caramel. It was worth every ounce of waiting. Every bit.

His hair brushed with yours and the palm of his hand reached up to cup your cheek, moving it to the back of your neck over time. At some point, he needed to pull away for air and as he did, the two of you were back to locking eyes.

The way Megumi was staring at you gave you chills. It was like pure lust clouded over his expression. He was giving you that ‘fuck me’ look so obviously that it made your knees slightly buckle. To follow up with that, he went straight to the point by sliding down one of his hands to your bulge and groping it. His voice smooth like whiskey when adding, “Can I take these off?”

You melted like butter in his hands, instinctively bucking your hips into him and groaning with a nod. It was crazy how bad you wanted this. The damp spot of pre-cum on your boxers getting bigger and bigger the evidence of that.

Fushiguro unbuttoned and unzipped your pants easily, hooking his fingers in the loops to pull them down to your knees. He kissed your cheek and the side of your jaw while continuing down with them until he was at your neck, searching for a secret sweet spot.

Moans cascaded out of you bit by bit during his exploration, getting sharper around an area he kept brushing past. When he figured out where it was, he suckled on the skin and abused it enough to where a huge hickey rested there. He got your boxers off as well and the moment his fingers touched you, your hand grabbed his wrist and tightened.

“Fuck! Wait! I haven’t done this with anybody else before! This is a lot to take in,” you exclaimed, panting and looking down at the sight of your naked bottom half right next to his covered hard one. Sort of wishing that he didn’t put his clothes back on.

Megumi didn’t seem to be phased by that. Instead, he figured out what you were looking at and got to stripping them off too. Once he was in nothing, he gave a soft smile and reassured, “It’s okay, [F/N]. You can trust me with this. I just… I really need to do this with you.” It worked and made you relax your muscles, getting closer to him unconsciously.

Then he leaned forward and pressed his tip against yours, wrapping his big, rough hand around them before spitting on it. Pumping it up and down, matching the pace he was going for himself earlier, and using the same hand now that you mentioned it. Your head rested back into the wall as you grunted out what you were thinking impulsively, “Fuck, daddy.!” You weren’t trying to say it, you just did. Outing a kink to him that you swore no one would hear a single peep about. That was what you get for attempting something slightly not-safe-for-work with a guy you’ve had freaky dreams about.

You scanned his face for any small detail of him feeling disgusted, weirded out, all of the above; you found none of that. Rather, he was seemingly in awe from how his mouth parted. It shifted into him giving a small smirk, letting out the most sexually frustrated voice you’ve heard yet in a whisper, “Keep calling me that… And don’t you ever fucking stop.”

Shuddering, you were letting more and more noises go that you didn’t know you could make and he was savoring every single one. Moaning along with you, fucking his cock against yours, and smearing his pre-cum over the both of you like it was lube.

The sorcerer got impatient. He needed something better than this. He knew what he wanted, the idea felt so right to him, he couldn’t suppress the urge to. You were right there, perfectly laid out.

Fushiguro guided himself down, using one of his hands to grab your thigh and move you to the desk. You placed both of your palms behind you to support yourself, just as ready as he was, maybe even more. With a rush of dopamine, you got the courage to dirty talk back, “Please… I want you… Daddy.” The nickname was hesitated on, but that was because this was all so new to you. How could he be so comfortable with this?

As low as it was, Megumi was pleased with the request and bit his lip at the sight of you spreading your legs below him. He never would’ve thought he would get you like this and fuck, he wasn’t complaining. Hell, he felt lucky.

He positioned himself against you, but teased by rubbing in circles. Making sure that you were wet enough for him to slide in with no issue. That proved helpful as his dick inched inside soon after, easing all of it until he could feel himself so deep that it was close to your stomach. You were gripping onto his arms, one on his bicep, the other on his forearm. Squeezing harder than you ever had.

It hurt so fucking bad. Like he was ripping you apart and forcing your body to succumb to him. Tears brimmed your eyes and he noticed it, stopping and keeping himself there so you could adjust. ‘Fuck’, he mentally cursed to himself, ‘It’s his first… I’m his first.’ A part of him got excited repeating that, proud of it. “Shit, sorry… I’m sorry, baby… Tell me when you’re okay…” Megumi rambled while placing a tiny kiss on your lips to make up for the pain. Never fucking a guy had its drawbacks.

Eventually, you got used to the fullness and it eased away into the pleasure you’ve heard so many things about. You gave him the go by nodding and tightened your grip to get yourself ready. A shocked gasp jumped out when he did the first thrust. It felt amazing. Too amazing.

You begged for more, “Please, faster. I want it. I want you to destroy me…” Losing yourself to the feeling of his huge dick fucking in and out of you, your cries got louder and desperate. Especially when his hand went to wrapping around your shaft to stimulate you even further. The pumping, the ramming, and his growls from his own enjoyment with your body all crashed down onto you.

Your edge was nearing, rushing at you with full speed, and coming closer by the minute as Megumi buried himself to where you could feel his tip poking out of your stomach. You cried out in pleasure, “Gumi! Fuck! You’re too deep…!” Arching your back and rolling your eyes, your dick started to twitch.

He chuckled and went faster with his hand, pumping the cum out of you basically and letting it explode onto your chest. It covered the majority of your lower half and dripped down as he continued to ram you into the desk. More sputtering out while he was fucking the high out of you. Your eyes were lazily closing, your mind becoming numb and dumb from the overstimulation.

Moans were blending together as your body threw a fit, digging your nails into any skin you could. He held you tightly there so you wouldn’t escape, doing you so hard now that it was sounding like everything was going to collapse underneath you.

Fushiguro praised you throughout this as an apology, “God, you feel so good… I can feel you holding me there inside… Like you want me to fucking breed you, [Y/N]..!”

That sent another orgasm over you and caused your cum to spill everywhere again, your legs sticky with it at this point. But, he kept going. He was so close. Right there.

The raven-haired man clawed at the edges of the desk when he was reaching cloud nine, thrusting in hard and passionate. He made sure to fuck his seed inside of you until it was like you were being bred by him. You knew you couldn’t conceive, but it sure as hell would be the case if you could. His muscles stopped tensing the moment he was done and he let out a satisfied sigh that was rare to hear, “If I knew sex with you was going to be that good, I would’ve made you my boyfriend sooner.”

With a peck on the forehead, he pulled out of you and let you catch your breath. ‘Boyfriend? He called me his boyfriend?’ that was all that could repeat in your mind as he walked over to where your clothes were scattered to clean. When everything was put away and he wiped up most of what he could off of the both of you, Megumi decided to have you come home with him. Walking out of the classroom together, he excitedly chimed, “Thanks for the birthday present, [F/N]!”

[asbealthgn]

originally posted this goofy lil steddie fic on ao3 but uhhhh you can have it

--

Max does not have a crush on Steve.

She knows this because she knows exactly how crushes feel. For the past couple years she’s been in a cycle of crushing on Lucas, dating Lucas, pissed at Lucas, breaking up with Lucas, realizing that Lucas is actually pretty adorable, rinse, repeat. She also had a brief period of crushing on El that she absolutely does not talk about because they are way better off as friends. 

So Max knows how crushes feel and she doesn’t have one on Steve. She does, however, have a healthy appreciation for how hot he is. 

On the one hand, gross, he’s like four years older than her. But on the other hand, Michael J. Fox is like six years older than him, and he’s hot too. On the other other hand, gross, Steve is like a brother to her. But on the other other other hand, she doesn’t have a crush on him so it’s not weird.

Max is running out of hands and the whole point is that she’s not going to stop herself from finding Steve hot, and she’s not going to stop herself from looking at him every once in a while. 

That’s how she makes her discovery on an afternoon that can’t seem to decide if it still wants to hang on to summer or if it’s ready to slip off into fall. She’s out on Ventura, which she kind of hates because it reminds her of Those Days, but it’s a good street for skateboarding. She’s on her own, having turned down Lucas’ offer to get shakes, and El’s offer to watch a movie, and Dustin’s offer to study for their math test tomorrow (like she was ever going to say yes to that). 

She’s sort of halfway on a mission today. Jonathan gifted her a camera on her last birthday, a Polaroid, and has been showing her the ropes of photography. She’s determined to get better at it. Most of her pictures so far have come out blurry or too dark or too overexposed or just completely boring to look at. She has the camera slung around her neck now, and she’s scanning the side of the road for anything interesting to photograph. 

Max has just stepped off her board to inspect a rusted out watering can in the grass that might make a cool photo when she hears a car door slam up the street. She’s partially concealed on the other side of a scraggly bush and watches from behind it as Steve swings his keys around his pointer finger before pocketing them as he approaches the woods. He glances around once he hits the trees and Max ducks down to avoid being seen. By the time she pokes her head back up, Steve has disappeared.

That’s suspicious. Why would Steve be all the way out here? What’s he trying to hide?

Like Max isn’t gonna follow. She stashes her board in the bush and takes off after him, trying to pick up the trail from the place Steve disappeared from. Once she’s in the trees, she can hear his movement, well up ahead of her. Honestly, for a guy trying to be sneaky, he’s making a shit ton of noise. All she has to do is hang back far enough that there’s no chance to be seen and she can keep up after the sound of branches breaking and leaves rustling and birds taking off.

Max pauses when the noise stops. It’s replaced by the sound of voices, too far away for Max to tell what they’re saying. Then that stops too and she creeps forward out of curiosity, going until she finally does see Steve.

He’s kissing someone.

Max isn’t sure who, exactly, because they’re pretty obstructed. Apparently, there’s a tree fort back here that she never knew about. It’s not high up, maybe only five feet off the ground, and the walls aren’t exactly watertight. Through the window and the gaps in the wall, she can see Steve pretty clearly and someone, some girl with curly dark hair. Max can’t see her well enough to make out anything else about her other than that. But it’s not like Max is not going to try to figure it out.

For that she’ll need evidence.

She lifts her camera, lines up the shot in the little window, and snaps a picture. But shit, flashes are a thing that exist. Bright light bounces off the trees and Steve lifts his head. Max drops, concealing herself in the undergrowth. 

“What was that?” she hears Steve ask, and she doesn’t stick around long enough for them to start investigating. She slithers off as quickly and as quietly as she can, making it back out to her skateboard in record time. She skates away, making sure to get two streets over before checking the photo that has now developed. 

Steve and the mystery girl, dark hair spilling out. Yep, Max is definitely going to use this. 

“Steve has a girlfriend,” Max announces in first period the next day, swinging into her seat right as the first bell rings. 

“So?” Mike asks at the same time that Dustin says, “He can’t!”

“What do you mean, so?” Max asks at the same time Lucas says, “Why can’t he?”

“I mean, why am I supposed to care?” Mike says at the same time Dustin says, “Because he tells me everything.”

“Hey, that’s our friend,” Will says at the same time Lucas says, “He doesn’t tell you everything.”

“Okay, can we please stop having two conversations at the same time?” Max asks as Mike and Dustin both open their mouths. Mike snaps his shut, but Dustin barrels on.

“Steve does tell me everything,” he says, “If he had a girlfriend, I’d know about it.”

“What makes you so sure, anyway?” Mike asks Max. She crosses her arm. 

“I saw them,” she says, “In the woods off Ventura. I have evidence.” She rifles through her backpack and produces the Polaroid of Steve and the mystery girl. 

“What were you even doing in the woods?” Lucas asks as everyone leans in to inspect the photo.

Max frowns. “What are you, a cop? Mind your own business.”

Lucas lifts his hands. “Geez, okay.”

Mike settles back in his seat, waving dismissively. “That doesn’t mean anything,” he says, “Steve makes out with girls, like, all the time.”

“Yeah, like Nancy,” Dustin sings, drawing out her name into a taunt.

“Ew, gross!”

“He kind of has a point,” Will says, “Steve kissing a girl in the woods doesn’t really mean anything.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Okay, then you guys aren’t paying attention,” she says, “At movie night last month, did he or did he not say that he was done with casual hookups and he wasn’t kissing anyone until it was ‘the one’ or whatever?”

Dustin nods. “He did say that. He said it to me again last week, because I hang out with him and he tells me everything.”

Lucas rolls his eyes as the warning bell rings. “Alright, if you know everything,” he says, snatching the Polaroid off Max’s desk and smacking it onto Dustin’s. “Who’s he kissing?”

“How should I know?”

“Oh, really? Guess you don’t know Steve as well as you thought.”

“Shut up!” Dustin says, “Yeah, I do! Just cause I don’t know—”

“Let me see,” Mike says, taking the picture. He studies it. “She looks kind of familiar, right? I’ve definitely seen that hair somewhere.”

“Well, she’s someone from Hawkins, so probably,” Max says.

Mike passes the photo to El. “What do you think? Do you know her?”

El takes the picture and looks at it, then shrugs. “I do not think so.”

That gives Max an idea. “Hey, El, do you think you could find her? Like when you found Heather from her picture?”

El looks back at the photo. “I am not sure. It is hard to see her.” She gives Max a tiny smile as the bell rings. “But I will try.”

That afternoon, after school, Max and the rest crowd onto El’s bed at the cabin while El sits cross-legged on the floor, blindfold over her eyes. The photo is on the ground in front of her with the radio tuned to static. Max watches in anticipation as a drop of blood slowly trickles from El’s nostril. After a few minutes, she pulls the blindfold off.

“It is no good,” she says, “I am only finding Steve.”

“Really?” Dustin asks. “Are you sure? Was anyone else with him?”

“I think he is at work,” El says, “He was with Robin and Eddie, but no girl.”

“Robin’s a girl,” Mike says.

“But not the girl,” Max says, “The hair’s all wrong.”

“Maybe she was in a wig,” Dustin says.

“Why would she be in a wig?” Lucas asks. Dustin shrugs and makes an I don’t know sound. 

“It’s not Robin in a wig,” Will says, leaning off the bed and picking up the photo. “It’s someone else.”

They pass it around again, everyone staring hard at the girl like maybe they’ll find some other clue. All they can really make out is that she’s in a black shirt, but that could still be anyone. Eventually, they give up, and the boys get bored and go back to Lucas’ to play Nintendo, and Max sticks around to watch movies with El. 

El convinces Hopper to let Max stay the night, since it’s Friday, and they try finding the girl one more time. El gives up after only a minute this time, shaking her head. 

“It is not working,” she says, “This time, I only saw Eddie.”

“Eddie?” Max asks, “Why would you see him?”

El shrugs. “I do not know,” she says, “It seemed like he is at a concert.”

Max picks up the picture and frowns at it. “Maybe the girl’s there too, but you just can’t see her for some reason? Like, ‘cause the picture isn’t clear? And maybe you’re seeing Eddie clearly ‘cause you know him?”

“Maybe,” El says, looking skeptical.

Max doesn’t blame her. She knows she’s grasping at straws here. But this is so damn confusing. She’s never had reason to doubt El’s abilities before, so why would they be failing? They give it a rest for the night and go to bed, but Max isn’t letting this go.

She’s going to figure out who this girl is. 

Max takes the strategic route and goes straight to the source.

Well, sort of to the left of the source. As close to the source as she can get without actually going to the source. Basically, she asks Robin.

It’s another movie night at Steve’s, and Max waits until Steve has disappeared into the kitchen to pop another bowl of popcorn before getting up and wedging her way in between Robin and Eddie on the couch.

“Do you know who Steve’s girlfriend is?” she asks. The others all whirl around, knowing exactly what she’s getting at. Robin’s eyes widen.

“What?” she asks, “What do you mean?”

Max narrows her eyes. “I know you know,” she says, “Steve tells you everything.”

“Hey, he tells me everything,” Dustin chimes in.

“Not helping,” Max says, pulling the polaroid out of her pocket and showing it to Robin. Eddie leans in so he can see too, then jerks back, laughing. “What’s so funny?” Max asks him.

“How’d you get that picture, Red?” he asks, not exactly answering the question.

“I took it,” Max says, “I saw them, and I wanted to know who she is.” She turns back to Robin, who is still looking at the photo. “Well? Do you know her?”

Robin shakes her head quickly. “Nope! Sorry, never seen her before in my life.”

She is so clearly lying. Max is about to call her on it, but then Steve is coming back into the room, so Max shoves the picture back in her pocket and hops off the couch to give him his spot back. 

“Stevie, how come you never told me you have a girlfriend?” Eddie asks, still sort of laughing as Steve settles in next to him. 

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe this!” Dustin shouts, “How could you not tell me!”

“Not tell you what, man?” Steve asks.

“Show him the picture,” Dustin says, tugging Max’s sleeve.

“I’m not showing him the picture,” Max says. 

“Ah, go on, Red, show him,” Eddie says, looking like he’s barely holding back another laughing fit.

Maybe a little apprehensively, ‘cause she’s kind of showing her ass here, Max pulls the Polaroid out and passes it to Steve. He looks at it for a long moment, everyone except Eddie and Robin on the edge of their seat waiting to hear what he has to say.

“Huh.”

“That’s it?” Mike says, “Huh?”

Steve shrugs.

“So?” Lucas asks, “Who is she?”

Steve grins. “Ah, you wouldn’t know her,” he says, “She goes to a different school.”

That makes Eddie howl in laughter while everyone else speaks over each other, trying to figure out what that means. Something like the beginnings of an idea is occurring to Max, but she’s not sure exactly what yet. She turns over the pieces in her head as they finish the movie, analyzing Steve’s answer, gauging Robin and Eddie’s reactions, and it feels like something is starting to come together that has yet to fully reveal itself.  

After the movie’s over, Eddie gives her a ride home since they’re right across the street from each other. 

“I gotta say, Red,” Eddie says as he rolls past the sign for Forest Hills, “It’s a little voyeuristic to be snapping pictures of people in the woods.”

Max rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy,” she says, “I was just curious.”

“Hey, I’m all about encouraging curious minds,” he says as they pull up in front of Max’s trailer. He grins at her. “Just be careful what you find out.”

That’s cryptic as shit, but Max just brushes it off as she pushes open the passenger door and gets out. She’s climbing the steps to her front door when the rest of the pieces clunk into place—something about familiar curly brown hair, and El only finding Eddie, and Eddie’s tears of laughter at everyone trying to put it together. 

Max whirls around and looks at Eddie hopping up the steps to his own trailer, curly hair bouncing on his shoulders. “Eddie,” she yells. He stops and looks at her. “You motherfucker!”

He cackles and throws open his front door. “Knew you’d get there eventually!”

[redr0sewrites]

Hi! I absolutely loved your lucifer x punk reader and was wondering if you could do a gn punk reader but with Velvette please?

nonnie i hope u know that u absolutely made my year with this request i NEED more velvette reqs she is my guilty pleasure

🥀 Cw: fluff, slightly suggestive at the end

Velvette is absolutely the type of person to LOVE having an alternative s/o

she def finds anyone with a unique style intriguing, and once she actually met you she fell hard

def inspired a clothing line or two after you before you both even became official

she would also ask you to model and would ask for your opinion on designs!!!!! ur def her muse in a way, and she LOVES dressing you up in spunky outfits and designing new outfits just for you

velvette just loves dressing you up, and loves going out together when you're both dressed to the MAX in full aesthetic outfits

shes so good at doing hair and makeup too, URGRHRH imagine her sitting on your lap and doing your eyeliner for you or putting liberty spikes in your hair...

if your super into DIY or patch vests, pants, etc Velvette LOVEESSSS helping you make clothes

she will make patches and pins for you to wear!

velvette def has you show her some of the DIY tricks you know, and she shows you some in return

YALL ABSOLUTELY DEFINITELY POSITIVELY HAVE MATCHING OUTFITS

all of hell starts to see even more alternative and punk influence in fashion once you both become OFFICIAL official

velvette also announces it on practically every social media platform possible that you both are together, she loves showing you off and she is NEVER the type to be ashamed of her partner

you both def make those alt couples goals videos, and if anyone ever hits on you velvette will conveniently post blurry photos of you both making out the next day on her sinstagram

she shows up to important meetings and work events with you both in your spunky matching fits

you both heavily believe in being fashionably late and def help eachother get ready (but it ends up taking longer bc she just can't help but kiss you over and over while you're trying to do eyeliner, and you are definitely no help when she's struggling to choose which accessory to wear)

she's already a huge advocate for change in the way hell is run, and you both bond over your anti-authoritarian ideals

velvette does what she wants and nobody can tell her otherwise, and teh same goes for you. she genuinely admires that you really don't care what others think about you and you're style, and was def attracted to that aspect of your personality before you both even dated

LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME SHE WOULDNT ADORE FEMINIST ROCK LIKE SHE WOULD EAT THAT SHIT UP

you both love bikini kill, hole, x ray spex, destroy boys, JOAN JETT, all of that genre

she probably knew about punk music before she met you, but you def introduced her to it more

velvette loves long car rides where you're BLASTING music and screaming it at the top of your lungs while chains and hair is flying everywhere as you tear down the road speed limit where

if you wear lots of chains she def tugs on them to pull you into kisses and pulls you in by the belt too... (i want to make a drabble about this soooo bad)

all in all, yall r a POWER COUPLE lmao

"babe, what about this?" Velvette twirled you around, adjusting some of the pins on your vest before turning you towards the large, illuminated mirror that covered one side of the messy dressing room. music played in the background, filling the room with guitar riffs and breathy solos. discarded fabrics and chains covered the floor, all remnants of Velvette's past designs.

"damn, this looks sick as fuck!" you exclaim, giving a little twirl to show off the distressed patterns and chunky shoes. Velvette nodded approvingly, stepping towards you with a smirk. she reached out, hooking her finger through your belt and pulling you into a kiss. her tongue slipped past your lips, exploring the cavern of your mouth as the kiss grew more steamy. "fuck you're so hot," she murmured against your lips, her lip stick was smearing across your skin as she pressed hasty kisses and nipped at your hawline. "i adore dressing you up," she whispered, pulling you in closer, "but i love undressing you even more..."

SHES SOOOOOOO RAHAWHAHGWGGGGGG i need more velvette contentttttttttt

[silhouetteonpaper]

MISSING

Summary: When another average day of work leaves you with piles and piles of casework, you’re surprised to see the missing persons report amidst the stack of papers. Jumping headfirst into solving the case, who could have ever predicted where it would leave you? Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 2,343 Warnings: Talks of experimentation, mentions of gruesome events

MISSING

Another stack of word-heavy papers are thrown onto your desk with a thud. You sigh, glaring at the agent who dropped them off, now leaving quickly in an effort to avoid any protest. Learning forward, you pick up the papers and start skimming through their contents.

New case file… missing persons… the same type of case work that usually fills your time, nothing about it catches your eye—that is, until you flip to the missing person’s profile. A blurry, black-and-white photo of a little girl is stapled to the page, the black text containing very little information.

It’s not the fact she’s a young girl that catches your eye—most missing persons’ cases these days have something to do with finding a child or family member now that the blip is over. But this file had nothing to do with that, instead a different kind of anomaly you weren’t expecting.

Missing Person: Super-human Abilities - RED LEVEL THREAT. The text leaves your mouth dry, thumbs frantically searching through the file to find any helpful information. Last seen in 2003… that’s far from helpful. It’s hard to tell what age the young girl is in the photo, but if you had to guess, you’d say around eight years old.

You’re no stranger to unknown super-humans on the loose, but a red level threat is never anything to take lightly. Still, something about her expression makes your heart ache, though it’s hard to make out small details from the pixelated image. You can tell she’s scared, and the only thing you hope is that she’s somehow safe. Because looking at the lackluster file, you have no clue how you’re going to solve this.

Hoping to get some added guidance, you take the troublesome case to the smartest people you know. Sitting around the conference table while discussing something definitely not related to work, you have no trouble interrupting by placing the papers in front of Tony Stark.

“I need your guys’ help on this case.” You voice, watching Natasha and Tony look up with a confused curiosity. They take turns looking over the file, glancing back and forth between each other and its pages.

“A red level threat, huh? Since when are they giving you big cases?” Tony teases nonchalantly, earning an eye roll from you. Grabbing back the papers after Natasha finishes skimming them, you watch as Tony types away on his computer.

“There’s barely anything on her, this is seriously all we know?” Nat questions, eyeing both you and Tony for confirmation. You only nod, taking another peek at the file yourself. Maybe if you read it enough times, some hidden information would reveal itself. 

Your focused research is interrupted when Tony lights up. “We’re in business! I matched the image to the location it was taken…” he pulls up a hologram screen, displaying the digital files he somehow accessed. Immediately relieved you came to these two for help, you watch as a map appears before your eyes.

Suddenly, pit of dread forms in your stomach, the building marked clearly with an all too familiar logo. “HYDRA.” You state, seeing the same skull and tentacle logo that haunts your past. It’s no secret you were experimented on all those years ago, but it’s not something you talk about often.

Now finding solace in helping the Avengers, you’ve found a way to make light of your dark past. But right now, all that matters is making sure whoever this girl is has that same chance. You blink away tears that seemed to form as you’re brought back to the present. “Do you think they still have her? After all this time?” Natasha questions, taking in every detail of the map.

“Well, who filed her as missing?” Tony asks you. You can only shrug, knowing that information is usually classified. The only information you had wasn’t as helpful to the matter.

“All I know is she was filed missing back in 2003, and now they’re re-opening the case. I’m assuming it’s because they’ve figured out she’s got HYDRA level enhancements.” I explain, thinking out loud. Tony nods, turning the hologram off as he continues his own research.

“You can’t go missing unless someone is looking for you in the first place. Do you think she had a family? Or do you think HYDRA is behind this?” Natasha continues to think. You ponder her idea for a moment.

Would HYDRA really be smart enough to do what Nat is insinuating? “Like if she escaped, and HYDRA’s using this as a way to sniff her out?” You hypothesize, the nerves inside your chest growing.

Natasha nods. “Bingo.” It’s not that you don’t believe it could be true, it’s that you hope it isn’t. You know more than anyone just how scary it is to be HYDRA’s secret weapon one minute and target the next.

“I’ll see if I can find who filed the report back in 2003,” Tony offers. “In the meantime, try to find anything helpful. If we knew her abilities, we could track them.”

You take a deep breath, nodding before exiting his office to find any scraps of information possible. It’s hard to deny you’re unsettled by this case, the missing girl’s story quite similar to yours. While you think you’re in a healthy mindset to solve this mystery, a part of you still hasn’t fully processed what happened.

HYDRA is known for their experimentation on kids, and you’re not surprised that yet another victim is on the loose. But the feeling of an innocent girl now corrupted by their malice actions makes your heart ache. After all, you were once that girl.

Brushing aside your past to the best of your ability, you decide to search through the HYDRA manifest SHIELD acquired long ago. It was a record of all experiments they performed, one of the only copies as HYDRA wanted to keep it on the down low.

The boxes of browned paper seemed endless, barely any organization to the multitude of files; heaps of innocent lives all written onto paper like objects. Each sheet of paper included one subject, occasionally a photo, and everything done to them. You can't help but skim some of the text, your stomach flipping at the cruel procedures.

After three hours of sifting through novels worth of paper, you decide to take a break. Tony probably has more information at this point, or at least you hope. You’re in need of some good news after seeing the terrifying reality of so many of those HYDRA victims.

“Hey, any updates?” You ask Tony as you stroll into his office. He nods, pulling his attention from whatever he was working on.

“The report was called in by a married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson,” He shrugs. “There’s not much else on them in my system, they seem to be an average suburban family.”

Sighing, you rub your forehead in deep thought. “Of course they have one of the most common last names… damn it.”

“How’s your research going?” Tony asks, genuinely curious. You laugh in a slightly manic demeanor, all those hours of looking through files making you delirious.

“Not great. I’ve been searching through the HYDRA manifest all day, and so far nothing. I’ve barely made a dent.” You explain. Tony stands, making you raise a brow.

“I’ll help, we all will. C’mon, let’s find this missing kid.”

It doesn’t take long for Tony to gather the entire team in the storage room, everyone pulling out profiles to identify your missing girl. You can feel each Avenger hesitate as more and more gruesome content appears on the pages, some of the heroes unaware of how terrible HYDRA really could be.

You’re about to give up, another few hours having passed. It’s a seemingly endless flood of victims, and if anything it’s making you more depressed. As you shift in your seat, about to stand, Natasha gets your attention.

“Uh, guys…” Her weary voice makes your heart stop beating. The entire team keeps their eyes glued to her while silence fills the space.

“What is it Nat?” You finally ask. It’s like the redhead's eyes are stuck on the paper, her mouth open but no words seem to come out.

“I…” Natasha starts, but the words catch in her throat. You’re about to rip the paper from her hands when she finally speaks. “The girl… it’s you.” Her eyes land directly on you in fear, the air inside your lungs disappearing as she flips the paper toward you.

There’s no way, you tell yourself. You’ve made amends with the past you’d never be able to recover; it isn’t possible that now, all these years later it’s suddenly appearing out of thin air. But Natasha’s right, the photo clipped to paper is a clear image of a younger looking you, there’s no denying it.

Everyone is in shock, your ears ringing as you take the paper from her hands. It wouldn’t have mattered though, the entire room was engulfed in silence as the team waited for your reaction.

Sure enough, on the page read your full name, the detailed list of everything you went through now flashing before your eyes. The storm that once gripped your entire life was all coming back, and you couldn’t stop it.

“I have to go-“ You manage to voice before dropping the paper and fleeing the room, your fear carrying you faster than your body as you end up locked away in your bedroom. The little girl caught in your past finds her way back inside you; the dread fills your chest as you sink to the floor.

Tears begin to cascade down your cheeks, the young girl with terrified beady eyes burned into your mind now staring straight at you. You can’t get rid of her even if you tried, no matter how many years pass or how far you run.

This job was supposed to save you, the girl who was fleeing in search of hope. And it did, for a while, each day filled with saving the world in one way or another. But now, in your overwhelmed state, you’re not sure if you can ever truly be saved.

A soft knock on the door makes you jump, the fervent anxiety increasing as you turn to see who’s brave enough to check on you.

Of course, it’s exactly who you expected. “Hey,” Natasha steps into the room, her concerned expression showing as she bends down next to you. “I know this is all a lot, but there’s something you need to see.”

You feel like you’re glued to the floor, but something about Nat’s soothing voice convinces you to wipe your tears and follow her all the way into Tony’s lab.

The entire team is already there, everyone looking up with worried faces as soon as you step inside. It makes you want to crawl back to your room, but a part of you can’t deny you’re curious as to what Nat needs you to see.

“Remember how I said an average married couple filed the missing persons report?” Tony reminds you as you approach him. You nod, sniffing back stray tears. “Well, I looked at your HYDRA file a little closer. Your birth name is at the bottom… Johnson. It looks like HYDRA changed it to avoid any suspicion.”

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to widen. You easily understand the connection between you and whoever filed the report. They are family, and they’re looking for you. Seeing your unsure expression, Tony motions for you to look at his computer screen. In the time it took you to have your meltdown, he’s already scanned your HYDRA file.

“Here, see? Birth name, Johnson. And over here… missing persons report filed by Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. That can’t be a coincidence.” He explains. You look over the screen, a new kind of anxiety filling you.

You don’t remember your parents, all those years of torture at HYDRA blocked out too many memories; you eventually just tried to forget everything about your past, unable to sort through what was good or bad. Even though you’re more than content here with the Avengers, there’s a part of you that longs for true family.

“I want to talk to them.” You state blankly. The group of heroes all exchange an unsure look.

Natasha puts a hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure? There’s a chance they aren’t-“

“I want to talk to them, please.” You repeat, nodding at Tony. He takes a deep breath, looking the pair up on his computer like last time. It takes only a moment for him to get an address for their workplace, a bakery a few miles away.

The idea of having family that works at a bakery makes you smile, but a part of you feels a sense of anger. It could have been part of your childhood, but it wasn’t. You didn’t grow up amongst the fresh loaves of bread and pastries, you were raised by criminals who used you.

Swallowing whatever overwhelming emotion swirled inside, you took a deep breath and mustered up any spare courage. “Thank you, I’ll be back later,” You manage to tell the group. You can see the look on Natasha’s face, like she’s about to offer to join you on your venture. 

Cutting her short before she can speak, you reassure her. “I need to do this alone, I think. I’ll call you if I need anything.” She only nods as you walk toward the door.

“Wait,” Nat finally speaks up, her familiar concerned expression unwavered. “Whatever you learn, know that you’ll always have a place here. I think I speak for everyone when I say we have so much love for you.” Her words make the entire team nod in agreement, and you feel your eyes water once again.

Holding the tears off for now, you give Natasha one last hug before swiftly exiting the building, your feet carrying you with a new hope toward the bakery that holds your future.

[wheeboo]

holidaze | boo seungkwan

SYNOPSIS. in which you take your boyfriend on a holidate down the city. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. kissing!! n just me being very whipped for him tbh :') WORD COUNT. 1.1k

notes: these r actually pics on our date guys. i took these pics of him <3 he did this for me. anyways i def didn't write this at 4am. happy holidays everyone! why r these actually the most boyfie pics ever i'm crying sobbing dying

There's nothing more better than venturing down the city at night with the spirit of the holidays filling the air. Festive lights are hung on streetlights which cast enchanting glows on the sidewalks and reflect off the wet and icy roads. Christmas trees are scattered throughout the city, standing tall and decorated with a dazzling array of ornaments, tinsel, and twinkling lights.

There's also nothing better than spoiling your boyfriend to a little date. Seungkwan had insisted that there wasn't any need for you to pay for everything, but tonight, you were all too determined to show just how much you appreciate him, even if it means arguing who would pay for the bill at the restaurant you chose or who would buy the matching stuffed animals you spotted in a store and couldn't resist buying.

Seungkwan has done nothing but warm your heart than any gift ever could. He's already a gift to your life, and tonight is your way of reciprocating just that𑁋to make sure he feels just as cherished as he's made you feel every day, simply because he deserves it, even if he doesn't think so himself.

"Do you think they'd like it? I'm scared I got the bad scents." Seungkwan fiddles with the paper bag of scented candles in his hand, his opposite arm linked around yours as you both continue your stroll down the glittering streets.

"My parents will love it. You don't have to worry about a thing," You reassure him with a gentle smile, giving his upper arm a small squeeze. "And even if they don't, it's the thought that counts, right?"

Seungkwan grins back, the worry lines on his forehead smoothing out. The city lights seem to reflect in his eyes like twinkling stars. "You're right. I just want them to like me, you know?"

"They already love you, trust me," You assure confidently. "Just be yourself, and they'll see how amazing you are."

Seungkwan could only shyly cower his head down to your words, the cold air nipping at his cheek that he attempts to hide away. You already know he has every right to be nervous meeting your parents for the first time tomorrow, but you also know that he'll win them over with his genuine and bubbly charm, just as he won you over from the very beginning.

The two of you trail up to a set of rails overlooking the sidewalk below and the looming buildings surrounding the area. There's some distant holiday music that you could hear from the nearby stores. Seungkwan leans against the rail, releasing a breath that creates a small mist in the chilly air, a thoughtful expression travelling across his face.

Smiling to yourself, you take out your phone and snap a few candid photos of him against the backdrop of the city lights.

"Look back at me," You call, and Seungkwan turns to face you, a small smile to his face that you manage to capture before he playfully swats at your phone. "Hey, hey, wait𑁋just a few more... Okay, I'm done. See?"

He pouts when you swipe through the photos, showing him the blurry ones and the ones where he's mid-swat like a cat batting at a toy. "Oh my God, you make me look so goofy."

"But look at these ones." You show him the two where you perfectly captured him looking back at you and smiling naturally. "You gotta post these! You look so pretty."

Seungkwan just rolls his eyes and turns away to admire the lights of the city once more, biting back the shy grin to his face. As you tuck your phone away, you walk up to him, sliding an arm around his waist and leaning against the rail beside him.

And when you both turn your bodies to face each other, your eyes gazing into his, a smile crosses your face, and you can't help but to let a hand pinch his cheek, perhaps a bit more harder than intended. "You're so cute!”

"Ow," Seungkwan winces dramatically, his hand coming up to cup over yours on his face, but he doesn't take your hand away𑁋he doesn't want to𑁋and instead leans more into your touch.

You furrow a brow, noticing how cold his face feels against your hand, trailing a thumb lightly over his cheekbone. "You're freezing, Kwannie."

The warmth of your thumb seeping through the chill of Seungkwan's skin sends a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the winter breeze.

"Just a little," he mutters quietly. “But you feel warm."

His dark eyes are like pools of melted chocolate under the city glow. The playful banter has faded, replaced by a quiet intimacy that settled comfortably around you both. You knew you should pull away and head back to the warmth of your apartment, but something keeps you frozen to this moment𑁋to the way his gaze seems to pierce right through you and make you feel so seen.

Then a sudden urge, soft and insistent, sprouts within you.

Your smile blooms into a full, somewhat mischievous grin as you take your hand away from his face. Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, right on the spot your touch had warmed up moments ago. It was a soft, fleeting peck, barely more than a whisper of your lips against his skin, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you both.

Seungkwan can practically still feel the kiss lingering when you pull away, a blush creeping up his neck and painting his skin and ears with a rosy hue. The flustered look to his face was enough to send your heart into a giddy leap, and as you cup his face again, you feel it's grown significantly warmer under your touch.

"All better now," You whisper teasingly as you continue to hold Seungkwan's face gently between your hands. "Are you blushing?"

Seungkwan lets out a scoff, lightly shoving your hand away from his face. "No."

"You are."

"I'm not!"

"You are!”

"H-How can I not when you kiss me like that?"

His words make a chuckle leave your mouth, and you stretch your arms to wrap around his neck, closing the distance between your bodies. His own hands come to instinctively rest at your waist, breath hitching from the way your closeness sends another wave of warmth through him.

But before he can say anything, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips, catching him off-guard once more. When you pull back, there's a playful glint in your eyes, and Seungkwan is left speechless and dazed, his cheeks now an even deeper shade of red. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and he lets out a choked laugh, a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"You're... you're really something else, you know that?" Seungkwan stammers, his fingers playing with the hem of your coat as he avoids your eyes bashfully.

You tilt your head slightly. "In a good way hopefully?"

He leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of your cold nose, his lips lingering for a moment. When he draws back, a few snowflakes land in his hair. "In the best way possible."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify

[lovingseventeen]

is seventeen good at taking your picture? *ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: this is kinda random but wholesome lol 

seungcheol:

✿ “ah, you’re pretty”

✿ it just sort of comes out, really. he was taking a couple pictures but he puts your phone down for a second just to look at you

✿ he giggles when you start blushing (the pictures end up being the kind thats a little blurry bc you moved when he got you blushy, but its still aesthetically pleasing)

jeonghan: 

✿ he tries to prank you by showing you that he actually took a (very cute and giggly) selfie while you were posing (this selfie becomes your lock screen eventually)

✿ when he sees you scoff he does his specific “hahaha” laugh (y’all know what i mean) 

✿ but just as you’re about to smack his arm he swipes left and he actually took a couple good pictures 

joshua: 

✿ i feel like he’s the kind to be pretty diligent with taking your picture 

✿ will direct how you pose (if you want him to help) to get the best possible picture 

✿ “mm maybe turn your chin this way just a little bit” he goes, even so far as to demonstrate with his own face

jun: 

✿ he really tries his best and they’re not totally bad 

✿ occasionally just crops your foot out weirdly or it’s not lined up the best 

✿ it may take another one or two tries but you’ll get there 

✿ will comment when you post that 1) you look pretty and 2) he took the picture (he’s proud)

hoshi: 

✿ takes a million pictures of you in rapid fashion and each of them are about 2% different from each other 

✿ may be a little bit hit or miss 

✿ will encourage a horanghae hand at some point 

✿ but even though he’s taking pictures kinda fast he will be patient and take more if you want him to 

wonwoo: 

✿ i feel like he’d take pictures of you from two angles at most and ngl, they ain’t bad 

✿ like somehow, he didn’t put that much thought into them but they’re pretty good???

woozi: 

✿ he may not take too many pictures but he puts a lot of care into the 7 he does take

✿ says little words under his breath, maybe quirks his head as he’s figuring out how to hold your phone

✿ “hmm maybe this isn’t right” *head tilt* “is it?”

dk: 

✿ may be a little bit overdramatic with the lunging to “make you look taller” 

✿ but best boy energy and he’s enthusiastic to help you !!

✿ will probably get a cute candid picture of you laughing over his antics

mingyu: 

✿ he’s probably taller than you but he will squat and/or break his back to get that good angle 

✿ also has a pretty artistic eye so i could assume that he’d get an interesting picture 

✿ he also did mention bringing his camera with him everywhere (in that one interview) so he’d probably be the kind of boyfriend that would take your picture without you knowing 

✿ honestly use his height and some funky lens to your advantage to get something editorial 

minghao: 

✿ another artsy boy hehe 

✿ very flexible will most definitely get pictures of you from so many angles 

✿ moves around you enough so you barey have to adjust 

✿ i feel like he’d help you filter your pictures too 

seungkwan: 

✿ who am i kidding, seungkwan will go to every extreme to get the perfect picture 

✿ ofc he knows all of your best angles 

✿ you may want to stop taking pictures but he will inSiSt he can do better 

✿ you think the pictures are fine already (he really did do so good) but he’s pointing to tell you to go back to pose 

vernon:

✿ the energy may not be through the roof but he’s still putting an effort trust

✿ if he doesn’t get what you want at first all you gotta do is demonstrate what you want

✿ really, just make him stand in your place and take a quick example

✿ “so i want you to take it like this, so you see this in the background too”

✿ “ah okay i see” he nods

✿ funniest part is the practice photo and he’s just standing in it like 🧍

dino: 

✿ also tries pretty hard

✿ he’s about to show you what he has so far before he grabs your phone back before you even see he screen

✿ “wait let me try again!”

✿ he gets excited when he feels like the pictures turned out well

✿ sneakily sends a couple photos to his own phone 🫶🏽

[watchmegetobsessed]

SNEAKY

A/N: actually surprised this concept made it into a fic, but here we are!

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

SUMMARY: Everyone is into the hot TA that substitutes for your professor. One sneaky picture leads you to what every girl dreamed of in class.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You’ve seen him around. All you knew that he was a graduate student, very good looking, someone freshman girls always stare at and giggle when he looks their way, but your paths never actually crossed.

Right until this casual Tuesday morning when instead of seeing Professor Russell, he strolled into the room and took his spot on the podium. Every girl in your class sighed at the same time as soon as he unbuttoned his suit jacket.

“Good morning, I was asked to substitute Professor Russell, he had some last minute family issues to deal with. I’m Harry, I’m his TA and I will try my best not to make you all fall asleep,” he joked and then started his lesson.

It’s been thirty minutes since then and every female student is eagerly listening to his words, paying more attention to him than they ever did to Professor Russell. And you’re no exception.

He is good-looking if you’re only considering his appearance, handsome face, fit form, a smooth voice and those sparkling green eyes all add up to his charm. Then he tops it all with his insane knowledge, talking about ethnonationalism as if he was born reciting studies about the topic. It’s always insanely attractive when a man has a brain and the looks as well.

The group chat you have with a few other girls in the class is blowing up, messages have been flowing about Harry, some of them are taking sneaky pictures of him, but they are sitting far in the back and for the first time they wish they were in the front row with you.

KACEY: Y/N I’m begging you, take a good pic of him!!!!

WREN: Snap a whole fucking portfolio for me pls!

They’ve been begging you and it’s starting to piss you off so you finally give in.

Unlocking your phone you open the camera and try to angle it from your lap to snap him, but not make it obvious. It’s harder than you thought, because he keeps pacing back and forth, so most of the pictures come out blurry until you finally take one clear one, sending it into the group chat just for them to lose their minds.

QUINN: I’m dead, I’m framing it in my dorm room.

WREN: How is he so fucking handsome???

KACEY: I’m touching myself tonight.

You almost laugh out loud at the last text, but manage to control yourself. When you look up from your phone you catch Harry’s eyes on you as he’s talking and you swear a shiver runs down your spine from the intensity of his gaze before he looks away.

When class is over you’re circled by your friends and you rush out of the room, but glancing back one last time your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before he disappears from your view.

After that, every time you open your camera roll you end up tapping on that one photo of him, musing about how good he looked and you can’t shake off the steamy thoughts that invade your mind when you lie in bed in the evening, imagining having him next to you. You wish you heard some kind of gossip about him, so many guys are talked about around campus, how they perform in bed, but you heard nothing about Harry, the only person you’re curious about.

Friday night your roommate is adamant to get out and have a few drinks, but you’re not in the mood, mostly because she always ends up abandoning you for his ex. Somehow, she bribes you into going to the sports bar for cocktails, swearing tonight will be different.

She pays for the first round and you start to loosen up, you see lots of familiar faces around, it’s a popular place for students. There’s a football game tonight, every TV in the bar is broadcasting the game, though it doesn’t interest you that much. After two more rounds you’re definitely enjoying yourself, mingling with other students around, just having a blast after such a busy week.

You’re at the bar, waiting for your turn to order another round when someone bumps into you from behind.

“Ow, I’m sorry.” Two hands grab onto your hips to steady you and when you turn around you’re surprised to see a familiar handsome face.

“Oh my God, it’s you!” The words roll off your tongue way too easily thanks to your tipsy state, but luckily Harry doesn’t mind your blunt reaction.

“It is me, yeah,” he chuckles. “And you’re… I’m sorry, I remember you from Professor Russell’s class, but I don’t know the names yet.”

“I’m Y/N. I sat in the front row,” you hold your hand out for him that he shakes gently.

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you narrow your eyes at him curiously.

“It means that, erm, I caught you sneakily taking pictures of me.”

Your eyes grow wide and your mouth runs dry, you got caught. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought, apparently.

“I-I’m so sorry, it’s not what you think, I was just—“

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, interrupting your rambling. “I found it funny.”

You’re slightly relieved he is not holding it against you and mostly that he didn’t call you out in front of the whole class.

“God, the girls in the back were bullying me to take a picture, I was pressured into it!” you laugh.

“Oh, poor thing,” he teases you, pretending to be touched, to which you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Wow, getting a little cocky, aren’t we?”

“Only with people who pretend to be paparazzi,” he grins down at you, placing a hand onto the bar next to you, his arm now pressing against yours.

“In that case, you should be just this cocky with everyone else in that class, because I was not the only one snapping pictures.”

“For real?” he laughs nervously and you find it endearing that just a moment ago he was so confident, but now you can see his cheeks turning pink.

“Absolutely.”

“Great. There goes all my professionalism,” he exhales, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, poor thing,” you pout at him, using his own words, which catches his attention and his eyes cut to yours, an unreadable expression on his face. “Relax, big boy,” you at his arm. “At least you had everyone’s attention the whole time, Professor Russell could never achieve that.”

The bartender finally comes up to you and you place your order along with Harry’s as you carry your conversation on. If you weren’t tipsy you would definitely freak out, ramble and act weird, but the alcohol in your system lets you keep your cool and chat with him easily.

You get so engaged that you forget about going back to your roommate, you get stuck at the bar, talking and laughing with Harry who on top of being handsome and smart is also quite funny. He truly is the whole package.

You even have a shot with him, both of you ditching the people you came with, but when it finally hits you, you realize that your roommate is in the corner with his ex, as usual and Harry’s friends are too focused on the game to notice that he’s missing.

He is definitely your type and from the way he stay close to you all evening you’re guessing he might be interested in you as well, but you wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries, though technically he is not your teacher. He only substituted one time, he holds no power over you in the school system.

When the bartender calls out for the last round you realize how much time has passed.

“Shit, I should get going, I need to study tomorrow,” you roll your eyes.

“Where do you live?”

“Bridgeway, it’s like five minutes away from here.”

“I’ll walk you home, it really is pretty late.”

You don’t protest, just grab your jacket and head out. The cold night air hits you in the head, but you’re definitely still tipsy by the time you reach your dorm.

“Thanks for the drinks and the walk home,” you chuckle, turning to face him in front of the entrance.

You don’t want him to go, the wildest part of you just wants to grab him by the collar of his shirt and drag him into your room, but you at least want to kiss those lips you stared at for so long at class and tonight as well.

“Good night, Y/N,” he nods with a polite smile and you know if you don’t say anything, it’s all gonna end here.

“You know, I still have the picture saved on my phone.”

He arches an eyebrow at your confession and he slowly steps closer to you, keeping intense eye-contact.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, it’s really useful on lonely nights when I’m in bed.”

Sober Y/N would have never said that out loud, but drunk Y/N is shooting her shot, big time.

Harry takes his time staring back at you, his eyes lazily dragging down to your lips, your body and then back to your face. He runs his tongue across his pink lips and you’re moments away from just throwing yourself at him. But before you could lose control he speaks up, leaning so close to your ear you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Go to sleep, Y/N. And if you feel lonely in the morning when you’ve sobered up, call me.”

With parted lips you just stand there, watch him reach into your back pocket to grab your phone. He types his number in and then hands it back to you. You should get going, but you’re frozen from the offer he just made to you.

“Y/N, be a good girl and go to your room, will you?”

You can only nod and somehow, your legs start moving, taking you into the building. It’s a complete blur how you get to bed, but you do. When you wake up in the morning you feel like a jeep has run you over, memories from last night slowly creeping back to your mind.

Harry.

One memory hits you after the other and then you remember what happened in front of the building. Did that actually happen or did you just dream it?

Reaching for your phone you frantically open up your contacts and there it is, Harry’s number saves, proof that last conversation actually happened. Your thumb hesitantly lingers over the call button until you suddenly tap on it.

It rings a few times and you’re right about to change your mind and end the call when he finally answers, his sultry, morning voice making you throb instantly.

“Hey, still feeling lonely?”

“Very lonely,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’ll text you my address. I’ll make breakfast while you get here.”

“Are we only gonna eat?”

He chuckles lowly on the other end of the call and you have to bite into your bottom lip not to moan at the sound.

“I’m hungry for more too. What about you?”

“I’m starved.”

“Great. Then better hurry.”

And then the call ends. Suddenly, you’re not even that hangover.

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