#i put this on cause i needed some sports on the tv tonight and was absolutely flabbergasted with what i was witnessing

[thewidowsledger]

Midnight Rain

© thewidowsledger - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Fuck buddy Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Fuck buddy Student!Female Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags | Warnings: Angst, bit of fluff, deep talks, no happy ending but a realistic one, this is a self-respect fic y'all don't expect part two or anything

Author's Note: Just a random short product of procrastination

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

"Why? Aren't you enjoying…this?"

"Nat, I do. I swear. But I feel like I am regretting all of it."

"Your post-nut clarity is crazy babe." Natasha joked, your cheeks heated up in embarrassment but you just laughed it off once again.

⧗

Finally, it was the end of your long and tiring graveyard shift, you step out of the school building, exhausted and worn out. You pull out your phone, seeing multiple missed calls and texts from Natasha.

"Where are you, babe?"

"Can I see you? I just got back from a mission."

"Where are you, Y/N?"

"Do you have uni today or tonight? I told you to send me your schedule."

"Text back, please."

"I miss you."

"I'm in your uni :)))"

As soon as you step out of the university gate, you see her sports car parked outside, the engine purring quietly. You hurry towards the car, a few students from your year noticed and started whispering to each other, pointing towards Natasha's Chevrolet Corvette Stingray. You can feel your cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as you quickly slide into the passenger seat, slamming the door beside you.

"Hey there, cutie." She reaches over to give your leg a gentle squeeze before focusing back on the road. "Long day?"

You nod tiredly in response to Natasha's question. "Mhm, felt endless. How have you been? I never got any calls from you after you left me that night." You lean back against the leather seat, turning your face towards the window so that she won't see the disappointment in your face but is evident in your voice.

"Sorry, baby. You know, the world calls for me."

You just hummed, it's not that you can demand for more of her anyway.

⧗

You and Natasha had been watching TV on the couch in your apartment, slowly drinking the wine she bought. You found yourselves making out heavily. She had picked you up, wrapping your legs around her waist and carrying you off to your room. Then one thing led to another.

The next morning, you wake up to the warm sunlight filtering through the curtains, and a strange feeling in your lower region. As you slowly open your eyes, you realize you're completely naked, and so is Natasha, sleeping soundly beside you under the duvet covers of your bed. You made sure to slowly get up and dress yourself with your favorite sweater you arbored from one of the world's mightiest hero, then you went straight to the kitchen to cook some breakfast.

While you're busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast—the smell of bacon and fresh coffee filling the room—Natasha wakes up, stretches lazily, and watches you from the bed. She props herself up on one elbow, admiring your focused expression as you cook. "Good morning...smells amazing here."

Natasha slides out of bed, she dresses herself up and pads softly into the kitchen behind you. She wraps her arms around your waist from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "Need any help, gorgeous?" Her voice is still husky with sleep.

"Get the plates and prep the table. And sit pretty for me."

She chuckles softly before reaching on top of your cabinets, her height towering you. You turned around only to be trapped by her, you giggled and hit her chest playfully before moving around her to put her coffee and your milk down the table.

It was so out of the blue, you two were okay as you both dug into the breakfast you made. Natasha was telling you about how she caused a circuit problem on Tony Stark's suit and how she had to sing for the Hulk for him to calm down. You two were joking and being playful around, but all of a sudden it changed.

"I don't think this is for me." You laughed it off, but there was more to your words.

Natasha suddenly frowned, her mood dropping down. "What do you mean?"

"I…I just-I feel guilty." You muttered, flashing a small awkward smile towards her.

"Why? Aren't you enjoying…this?"

"Nat, I do. I swear. But I feel like I am regretting all of it."

"Your post-nut clarity is crazy babe." Natasha joked, your cheeks heated up in embarrassment but you just laughed it off once again. The redhead immediately noticed making herself feel bad about it, then the tension became finally really serious, Natasha cannot help but ask. "Why? Why do you feel that way?"

"I just…I just feel like I am losing respect for myself with this kind of set up. I don't think this is for me, beb." Your voice was raw with vulnerability.

"So, what do you want to happen?" She asks in a flash, you laughed to make the atmosphere lighter, which always worked.

"Wait, my dialogue is not yet done." You smiled, you were still trying to sort things out in your mind but you have been thinking about this for some time now.

You told her that you feel like you aren't made for a fuck buddy type of relationship. You will not call what happened to you both a mistake, but an experience. Somehow, Natasha felt bad since she was the one who offered to be fuck buddies but you kept reassuring her that you agreed to it in your own will.

You and Natasha met in a bar while partying, both of you were hard drinkers and accidentally something happened between both of you that night due to drunkenness. You didn't even realize that she was the Black Widow not until you ended up being in the Avengers compound.

Natasha said that she wasn't ready for commitment and you agreed being so focused on your studies and side job—from there your relationship or set up rather, started.

"I don't know, I just feel sorry for myself. I pity myself." All playfulness instantly drains from her face. She's completely taken aback, her brain momentarily stopping from processing. "This type of set up isn't for me, I cannot keep up. I know I wasn't looking for something serious because of the demands of my study and my job but I didn't know that it would change."

You stare at her for a long moment, your eyes searching hers. You then gave her a faint smile.

"I am not made for relationships like this, I don't think I can still do this anymore. I think I am ready for something serious, a relationship where I can respect myself. I want to be with someone genuinely, not this shallow. I finally want someone to know me for who I am. I know you are interested and attracted to me, Nat. But now I am yearning for a deeper connection. Like I hope you knew I do digital arts, I sculpted, I do paintings and I love films before you saw my body. I wish you saw all the arts I made before you get to touch me. You don't even know I can sing and dance, you don't know that I play volleyball." You look defeated, like a weight has been pressing down on you for so long and you're finally allowed to collapse but still, you gave the redhead a warm genuine smile.

"That's all. I just feel like I am wasting myself in this when I am genuinely so much more, Nat." You tried to hold your tears back, biting your inner lip but the smile on your face never faded away.

You sit there, waiting for her to say something—anything. You want her to look at you and confess that she wants the same things you do. All this time you have been hinting her that. But the silence is deafening. It's telling you everything you need to hear. The longer she remains quiet, the more your heart sinks.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I just don't think it is for me, you know, love? " She cannot even say the word without grimacing, but you gave her an understanding smile.

"I know you'll find someone that will make you feel that it is for you."

It was bittersweet. You two are on a different page now. And somehow, that's okay—it's not that you can ask her to be the person to make her feel that love is indeed for her anyway. You wanted something more but she stayed the same.

[bearprofessorr]

a second chance.

sometimes getting stood up is the only way to find what you really needed.

ship: declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: drinking, making out, no y/n. word count: 3.8k.

(crossposted on ao3)

---

The night was young, and you had plans. A date. One of the boys that helped out with the Cotswolds Round-up plucked up the courage to ask you out after a few weeks of idle chatter in the breakroom. You dressed up for the occasion - even if it was only for a drink at the one proper pub in the area. It wasn't often you would be asked out; normally you would be making the first move, hoping that it was reciprocated. Not tonight. 

You arrived slightly before you planned to meet him, wanting a drink to steady your nerves as the clock got closer to 8. you finished your first drink - a simple vodka coke - and looked back at the clock, now reading 8:15. Panic rose in your throat, but you kept it down by ordering another drink. Thankfully, there was a TV behind the bar that you could watch to pass the time, distract yourself and try and convince the other patrons of the pub that you were really enthused by... golf. 

The night continued to pass, and the golf blurred as you stared at the screen instead of watching it. The clock hit 8:45 and you had to swallow the pain of being stood up. You looked around the pub, seeing if anyone was looking at you - no one spared you a glance. There were faces you recognised, some from Corinium's other departments, but none that you spoke to at all; Until you looked down the bar, in a dim corner, noticing Corinium's prized jewel; Declan O' Hara, slowly nursing a glass of whiskey with his eyes just as glazed over as yours were, staring at the TV. Rumours had been circulating around the offices of Declan's wife being scouted for work in London after prized director Malhar Verma was spotted at the O'Hara's New Year's party. Although you knew nothing of Maud personally, she had been in some of your favourite films as a kid, and you were sure her return to the acting world would be well-received. However, from the looks of things, Declan wasn't taking the rumours too well, and from where you were sitting, it was unclear to you whether Declan was even sporting his wedding band. It wasn't as if you could go over and strike up a conversation, though. You had spoken to Declan in passing, mostly because your team helped Cameron with research and analytics - taking the analysis of audience retention and opinions off of her plate so she can do what she's best at. 

Whether he noticed you looking at him was another uncertainty - but you noticed his head move out of the corner of your eye, and you decided to act very interested in the golf again. When he stood up, you took no real notice, until he walked up next to you, got the bartender's attention and ordered another glass of whiskey. 

"Did Tony send you?" He leant his forearms on the bar, looking you over for anything he deemed suspicious behaviour, "'Cause if he did, tell him to fuck off, will you?"

"What?" You asked, more confused than defensive. 

"You work at Corinium, do you not?" Declan mirrored your expression, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for you to respond.

"Yeah, but I'm no spy - promise." You put your hands up in defence, giving Declan a weak smile and a shrug to try and calm his nerves. The bartender came over with Declan's drink before he could speak, so he quickly thanked him and took a long sip before continuing.

"So you just come to the pub - all dolled up and alone, for fun?" 

"I wasn't supposed to be. I got stood up."

"Oh. Sorry..." He awkwardly patted your shoulder, in some kind of apology - or sympathy. 

"Don't be. It was my mistake to assume he was being genuine."

"Men are cunts, take it from me - don't waste your time on them." His mind immediately darted to Rupert Campbell-Black, and his attempts to court his daughter. A small part of him looked at you, noticing you and Taggie appeared similar in age and he chastised himself for the thought. He went to say your name, but realised very visibly that he couldn't recall it, even though he recognised you. You noticed this and held out your hand, introducing yourself like you were taught to.

"I work with Cameron on research." You smiled, appreciating his gentle grip as Declan took you hand in his to shake it, placing his other hand on top to solidify the gesture. "We've actually been in the same meetings for the last month."

"Ah, that explains why I've seen you around - wait, are you-"

"Brainiac, yeah. Tony called me that once - probably not in the nicest way - and it just... stuck." You rolled your eyes at the memory, sighing, detaching your hands to run your fingers through your hair, "But I would prefer for that to stay at work. Obviously."

"Obviously," He parroted, "Of course." He noticed he hadn't reciprocated the greeting, and hated the fact he assumed people knew who he was, "I'm Declan."

"I know that." Declan winced ever so slightly at your response. You smiled without thinking, for the first time that night, "You're the golden goose of the network; and working with Cameron, I do research for your show. I think if I didn't know who you were through all that I'd be kicked to the street."

"Right." Declan chuckled, looking defeated as the conversation fell into a lull. "If you don't mind me asking," He presented the question, his journalistic instincts kicking in, "Who was it you were supposed to be meeting here?"

"Sebastian." The name rang a bell, with Declan recognising him for around the offices, mostly tailing Cameron wherever she went. Before he could make a comment, you spoke back up, "He... well- he said we would meet here and go for dinner, but that clearly isn't happening. I'd rather not dwell on it, if that's alright." You gave a flat smile, taking a long breath to stop the anxieties from crawling back into your mind. "I should have been realistic, he's... he's him, and I'm-"

"Don't sell yourself short. You're a beautiful woman, and it's a pity for him he hadn't recognised that." Declan cut you off, a stern look on his face. He took a moment to truly look at you then, in a way he hadn't dedicated the time to before - what self-respecting married man would spend his time gazing at the women he worked with? 

As much as you would have wanted to believe him, wrap yourself in his kind words, you simply couldn't. What did it matter if you were beautiful if no one was around to treat you as if you were? Actions and words meant very different things - both needed to be true if you wanted to believe it. This came across clearly on your face as you turned away to stare into your glass, both hands interlocked around it on the bar. 

"Thank you, but that doesn't change anything." You sighed, draining the last of your drink into your mouth, pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "I'm sure you didn't come here to comfort my bruised ego - I'll get out of your way so you can actually enjoy your night."

"And what enjoyment do you think I came here for?"

"I don't know," You shrugged, scanning the room before looking back at the TV, "Maybe you just wanted to watch the golf."

He laughed at that, raising his eyebrows in disbelief, leaning his back against the bar as you stepped away from it, "Really?"

"Look, what else am I supposed to say?" You looked down at his hand around his whiskey glass, noticing he was still wearing his ring, but the words came out of your mouth before you could hold them back, "That you've come here to drown out your troubles? I'm not like you, Declan, I don't pry."

He noticed your eyes dip from his, and a part of him wanted to hear you say his name again, in that perfect accent of yours. It was that same part of him that he kept locked away for fear of turning into the men he criticised. The small glint in his eye at that quickly disappeared, not without you noticing. "Maybe you should. You'd learn a lot about a person that way."

"You look like you're dying to tell me why you're actually here," You stood your ground, relaxing your posture, "so, go ahead."

"I wouldn't say dying to, but if you insist-" Declan teased, shrugging while he gestured with his glass for you to sit back down, but when you didn't, he nodded to acknowledge your lack of action and continued, "I came here to avoid Taggie sitting me down and trying to stop me from falling into 'old habits'." He exaggerated with the curl of his fingers. 

"Old habits like the one in your hand?"

"Bingo."

"Maybe you should listen to your daughter, Declan."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, darling." He mocked, enjoying the anger that immediately rose to your face, only to be concealed - except the lingering red around your ears.

"You're the one who-" You scoffed, noticing the smile playing on Declan's face and taking an audible breath, turning on your heel, "Forget it. Enjoy your habits, just try not to leave when the bar closes - makes you look like you have a problem."

"It's only a problem if I leave alone." Declan called out to you, and he watched as you stopped mid-step and placed your foot down delicately.

You paused, still facing the door, hands tensing as you considered your options. There were two ways this could go, if you stayed - and misread his signals, you go home disappointed. If you're right about the undertone of his words, and you stay, you can forget Sebastian and enjoy some good company - maybe more.  Already having been disappointed by one man tonight, the only way that has the potential to change is if you stay. 

"Is that so?" You turned, your head tilting to emphasise the playful nature of your question. "In my mind that would just be two people fuelling each other's addictions, but if you'd prefer I stay to make sure you get home in one piece-"

"I can take care of myself, you wouldn't need to carry me home." He paused, "If anything, the opposite's more likely."

"I think you underestimate how many people I've drunk under the table who've thought they can hold a light to my drinking prowess." You were bluffing - you'd only competed against one person, who was already pissed and was half-way to the bathroom after the first drink. 

"And you're the one saying I've got a habit? Looks like you've been practicing yourself."

"Only on weekends." You joked, and by the look on his face, it was clear Declan understood you were playing up your tolerance, and made space for you at the bar as you stepped closer.

"Right." He chuckled, "It's not for sport, then?"

"You could say it's more a hobby." You smiled, taking your seat facing Declan, while leaning an arm on the bar. "There's not much else to do out here."

"It's fair to indulge every so often." He gestured with his glass to the bartender for another round, taking the last sips from it, "Less destructive than hunting."

You rolled your eyes, the reminders of your summer job at a range leaving a sour taste in your mouth that was quickly replaced with a drink. "It's a hobby for assholes with delusions of grandeur, as far as my interactions with them have gone."

"So, the whole of Cotchester?" Declan raised an eyebrow, eyes following yours.

"Unfortunately so." 

"I'm certain you've heard everything there is to know, then?"

"Not that isn't already common knowledge."

"You'd be surprised - like how we all 'know' about Cameron and Tony-" The commonplace gossip slipped from Declan's mouth before he could think, but since it was only to another Corinium member, he realised it was safe to speculate. When you cut him off to fill the rest of his sentence, he breathed out a small sigh of relief.

"But his wife's none the wiser, yes I'm aware. I don't have the protections you do to go around telling everyone's business to any ears that'll listen." You shook your head, relaxing it to rest on your hand, propped up on the bar.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're Declan O' Hara. Your whole schtick is digging up people's pasts, making a living off of the skeletons in their closets." You accused with a flourish, taking a long sip from your glass.

"Not always."

"But you have, right? Like with Rupert - you didn't say what it was but I know for a fact you had something catastrophic." There was a sparkle in your eye at that, the thrill of the chase, Declan knew that tone - he used it himself when he knew he had someone pinned. Backed into a corner, ready to strike. "You reached for something. I saw. Twice during that interview when you were readying yourself for the question, you reached," You reached across, poking the side of his chest. "Right there, for your blazer pocket."

"I was bluffing - to throw him off, and it worked like a charm." Declan brushed your hand away, lightly closing his hand over yours. Your heart fluttered at the contact, "Now, if I did have something on Rupert, as soon as I made the choice not to say it on air, that information never really existed."

"Because of your daughter?"

The question caused him to pause, the words hanging in the air. 

"What?" He tried to regain his balance, his gut tossing itself to the side. Thankfully, you didn't notice, and kept talking to fill the silence. 

"I overheard people talking about her bursting into the building to track him down during the break - did she know?" You interrupted yourself, "Was that what you were going to expose him for?"

Declan shook his head, trying his best to mask the disdain he felt for Rupert's advances on Taggie, "No, there wasn't anything to expose. Rupert's life has been incredibly public, everything I said was already out there, public knowledge."

"Tony and Cameron public or actually public?"

"Front page of 'The Times' public."

"Hmm." You didn't look fully convinced, but dropped the subject simply because of the look Declan was giving you - stern, final. "You two seem... friendly."

"We are." Declan agreed, adding with a knowing smile, "He's better than people assume he is - once he comes back down to earth." 

You chuckled at that, knowing the stories that filtered through the area of his specific brand of ego. The alcohol had fully seeped into your bloodstream now, if the dull pulse of your heartbeat in the back of your head was anything to go by. The lights seemed to shine a little brighter, haloing Declan in a warm glow. You didn't say anything, didn't feel the need to. You simply stared, observing how in the silence, Declan turned to face ahead of him, leaving you with the side profile of his face. He was tired, that much was evident - the light beginnings of unshaved stubble rising on his cheeks, a similar shade to the bags under his eyes, half-hooded eyes that threatened to close without forceful blinks every so often. It was only once you hand made contact with the side of his face that you realised it had moved to brush against his cheek, a slow, soft movement with the backs of your fingers. Declan moved his eyes before his head, an equally soft look and light glisten of water in them as they noticed the touch. 

Your eyes widened, your hand froze, you took in a short breath and held it tight in your chest. As soon as your hand twitched to move back, his rushed to hold it, trying to form the sentences in his mind to express what had made his heart stutter. All that came out of his mouth, like a plea, was the simple question;

"Can I kiss you?" 

You barely had time to process your head nodding, your instincts answering for you, before his lips met with yours for the first time. The first thing you noticed was how he tasted, of whiskey and cigarettes, combining with the scents of cedarwood - it was addicting to say the least. He pulled back, Declan's hand lingering on your cheek. Your eyes looked into his to try and find any hint of hesitation, of regret, and found none.

It was the light jeering of a table off in the corner that took you both out of the moment, made you duck to hide your blushing face from the other patrons of the bar. 

"Don't listen to them," Declan used the hand on your cheek to guide your face to look back at him, "They're only playing around."

"It's hard not to, not when I can feel them looking at me-" You cut yourself off, draining the rest of your glass. It was almost abrupt, the way you stood, grabbing your bag. Declan put a hand on your arm, trying to slow you down, and you answered his question with your own before he was able to ask it, "Are you coming or not?"

It took a moment for his mind to catch up, but as soon as he met your eyeline again, saw the light reflect in them, he nodded and slid his hand down your arm to lace your fingers together - the bar had his card on file, they would charge what they wanted. Frankly, he couldn't give a shit about how much he had spent, all he wanted was to follow you wherever you decided to go. That was good enough for you, and the pair of you left the bar to light cheers from the same table as before. As soon as you were outside, as soon as Declan knew there were no more eyes on you but his, he pulled you closer, feeling the goosebumps from the chilled air on your skin.

Declan's eyes were focused on your lips, physically restraining himself from devouring you there. You took the initiative in a rare moment of confidence, hovering over his lips before pressing them together, breaking apart for a moment only to return open-mouthed, deepening the kiss; His hands rushed to pull you closer, tangling into your hair and around your waist, fabric bunching under his grip. You pulled away, the chill of the night forcing you out of the moment. Declan chased your lips with his, instead electing to brush their noses together before pressing his forehead to yours. "What's wrong, darling?"

You smiled at that, had to stop yourself from breaking down into a puddle of laughter at how soft the situation had turned, "I- We might freeze to death out here if every ten paces you stop and-" You dodged his lips again, turning your head so they pressed against your cheek, still giggling all the while "-God, if you don't let us actually get to where we're going, I'll never forgive you."

It was almost childlike, how Declan pleaded with you, how his round brown eyes tracked yours, "I'll keep you warm, sweetheart, I swear."

"Declan-"

"No-" He interrupted, running his hands down your arms, interlocking your fingers once he reached your hands.

"As much as I would love to take your word for it, I can't feel my hands right now."

"They're fucking freezing." Declan commented, pressing both of your hands together so he could cup his around them in some attempt to warm them up. 

And at that moment, the bright lights from the unfortunate turn of a car into the driveway of the pub caught you both off guard, and something in your gut felt the need to make significant distance between you and Declan. Luckily so, since as the car pulled up, Declan recognised it and winced, knowing what was going to happen already. Not Taggie, but Rupert stepped out of the family's car first, with his daughter in the passenger's seat. 

"Fuck."

"Declan! Man of the hour, thought I'd find you rotting away here!" Rupert cheerily leant on the bonnet of the car, a shit-eating grin on his face as he crossed his arms. "Look, I'm not one to judge what a man does with his time but-"

"Fuck off Rupert." Declan rolled his eyes, pulling his blazer across himself. You were glad you hadn't been noticed, and tried to just start walking home when Rupert lifted himself off the car and walked with a brisk pace to step in front of you.

"Not so fast, sweetheart." He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, not quite meeting your eye, "I know the last thing you want to do is talk, but I'm not about to stand here and let you walk home by yourself."

He turned around to look back at the car, watching how Taggie had stepped out and was standing face-to-face with her dad, chastising him for staying out so late. Declan looked over for a moment, offered a small wave to you and Rupert and resigned himself to the justified beratement from his daughter - he knew in the bottom of his heart that she was right, but drinking was the easy way out and they both knew that. 

Taggie carted him into the front seat of the passenger's side, and beckoned Rupert over with a stern but tired look on her face. Rupert patted you on the shoulder, leaving you with a small, "Just one second, alright?" before jogging over to Taggie. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but with the vague gestures that Rupert made to you and the glances you caught from Taggie, you assumed they were talking about you. It made you want to dissolve, but that was the risk you took. And, at the end of the day, you were glad of the rest of the night you had, even if it ended prematurely.

Rupert, ever the gentleman, walked you the 30 minutes home, in relative silence. He broke it only to ask your name and if you were alright, both questions that you answered with the least information required. 

After a particularly awkward walk, you got to your door, and as you fumbled with your keys, you paused, took a breath and turned to face Rupert. "Look, I don't want this to become a whole ordeal-"

"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul." Rupert smiled, and it looked more genuine than the ones he flashed on Declan's show, "Your secret is safe with me." He reassured, nodding goodnight as you disappeared into your house to sneak into bed, alone.

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 17

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 17: meeting the overlords

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm sure you can all imagine why I called you here," Lucifer began. "Humans are starting to put together that Full mages are not from their world. As I've stated in previous meetings, we should be revealing ourselves, not waiting to be discovered."

I scanned the face of every Overlord at the table. They were all in their Demon form, some more terrifying than others. There were eighteen Overlords in total but each one had a second hand, putting the overall count at 36 individuals. 37 if you counted the King of Hell.

"A decade ago we had decided to wait some time before revealing ourselves," one of the Overlords said. She had long white horns and huge, white clawed hands. Her eyes were blood shot red. "Why the change of heart?"

My shoulders stiffened when I realized who sat two seats down from her. The man was wearing his pink hat and jacket. It was the owner of the fighting ring who drugged me. I couldn't tell where he was looking with his glasses covering most of his face.

"We were, but then someone went crazy on the surface." The man who spoke wore a navy blue suit and had a flatscreen TV for a face. His voice sounded familiar. "Tricking them with the whole illusion magic doesn't work when you massacre them with the 'illusion'."

"I do believe you were the one who broadcasted the whole thing, old friend," Alastor didn't hesitate. "What was it you said? You're all in for a real treat, tonight?"

"It was your choice to come out the way you did. I was just doing what I do best."

"I fail to see the problem when your broadcast barely had sight of me. We all know how unreliable it can be."

"How about all the people who escaped to tell the--"

"Regardless of how or why it happened, it did," Lucifer interrupted, "and we need to decide what the next steps will be. I'd like to hear from the surface Overlords about announcing ourselves to the surface."

"Now?!" someone yelled from the other end of the table.

"Yes, now," he answered firmly. "Thanks to Alastor's incident--" radio static caught in the Radio Demon's throat "--we'll need to reveal ourselves soon. We need to set our historic record straight and keep it that way."

A moment of silence fell over everyone's head. They looked between each other with various expressions, no one quite sure what to say next. I looked at the Demons standing behind them but most of them had blank stares, revealing nothing about their own thoughts.

"Why do we need to do anything if they're going to figure it out anyways?" someone finally asked.

A woman with large pigtails sitting beside the ring owner laughed. "Do you want to stay an Overlord on the surface? Humans are notorious for killing anything that poses a threat to them."

"We have to show that Demons are more than just humans with more-than-average magic," the TV added. "If we don't, they'll hunt us down for sport. There's more of them than there are of us by a large margin."

"Why are we worrying about being hunted? Humans with Slight magic are no match for Demons." The Overlord was a huge humanoid wolf with neon colors all over.

"Humans together under a common cause are a match for Demons," the woman in white said. "It's important to set a precedent before they realize they can outman us."

"How does thy propose to accomplish such a feat?" This Demon had two sets of bright green eyes and his cloak wrapped tightly around his body.

Demons started looking between Alastor and the TV.

"A television broadcast wouldn't be a bad idea," the TV man smiled.

"Aren't we expecting to reach the entire surface? You barely cover a continent as is," Alastor challenged.

"I advance more with every passing day. It would take less than a month to have a reach all over the surface. Something that can be accomplished if your highness provides proper resources." He nodded his head to Lucifer.

"Yet I've been broadcasting to the entire surface for centuries," Alastor said. "Since the Great Collapse, radio has been the only reliable source of communication."

"Who would believe the word of a Demon who's been tormenting them for hundreds of years?" he snapped back. "People can see a Demon for themselves instead of taking your word."

"Television can be fabricated."

"A radio host can lie."

"They're both important," Lucifer interjected, "and having both can solidify what we're trying to do. Vox, I can provide the resources you need to expand. Alastor, you'll wait for my word before you broadcast." The Radio Demon's eyes narrowed in response.

"What exactly are we broadcasting?" Vox asked, seemingly bored now. He scratched at his bright blue claws. "Humans know Demons as Full mages. Are we merely changing our name?"

"Humans," Lucifer explained, "use the term Full mages to mean anyone who can control more than just the basic elements. But Full mage Humans and Demons are two different species."

"What is the difference?" the neon wolf asked. I was surprised to notice a collection of nods from the rest of the Overlords. How much of their own history did they not know?

"The main difference is that we have control over Existence magic. So dark, chrono, and cosmo magic. Humans have no control over such magic. Demons can control various advance magic, even bending and expanding it, such as technology magic." He gestured to Vox, who casted a smirk in Alastor's direction. "Humans can control very few advance magic. The most I've seen a Human control is four. Demons have access to all, though many of you know it's best to pick a few to master."

"You don't expect to share this information with Humans, do you?" the woman in white questioned. "Giving up such crucial information could lead to our ultimate downfall."

"You're right," Lucifer agreed, "That would give them too much information about us. But we need them to be aware of the difference between Human Full mages and Demons. Aside from appearances of course." He looked down the eighteen frightening faces.

"I say we tell them we can control everything," Pigtails suggested. Well, more like declared. "They'll never know. If we scare them into thinking we can master any and all elements of life, they couldn't imagine fighting against something so powerful. And appearances would just confirm it."

"What happens if they develop the technology to rival our power?" the woman in white asked.

"I don't think you'd be around to see that day," Pigtails shot at her, "And besides, we'll just keep them from getting to that point. They're all about advertising their new inventions. Riding of it and its inventor is easy."

"Thou would be foolish to not prepare for thy future." The man dressed in black with neon eyes spoke before the woman could.

Lucifer nodded. "It's something to be concerned about, but it's something to discuss only after we've revealed ourselves."

"Sooo." Vox ran his long claw across the table so it made a screeching noise. I clenched my jaw and dampened the noise. "We're telling the Humans that we can control any and every element. What happens if they get angry?"

"Surface Overlords have been up there for quite some time." Lucifer crossed his arms. "How would you handle an uprising?"

"Same way as down here," the ring owner beside Vox answered, "Fear, manipulation, and manpower."

"I would advise surface Overlords to maintain and increase this manpower." Lucifer stood from his chair. "I will contact all of you when we are ready to reveal ourselves. As for you two," he looked to Alastor and Vox, "we will speak privately about what exactly you will be broadcasting. This meeting is over."

Everyone filed out of the room within minutes. Rosie casted a smile and a small wave in my direction as she left. As she did, another woman walked in. She wore an all red suite and had long, gorgeous blonde hair. She was followed by a shorter woman who had a lot of silver hair and large red X over her eye.

The pair quickly made their way over to me, the blonde energetically introducing herself as Charlie Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer. I was speaking to Princess of Hell.

"Are you really Alastor's soulmate?" She got really close to my face. Alastor casted a glance over his shoulder at me.

"Uh, yeah."

"I can't believe it! I never thought he would have one."

"Doesn't everyone get a soulmate?"

"Demons never had soulmates until they could go to the surface. Once the portal opened they started to get them, so a lot of the old Overlords don't have one." She spoke so fast it was taking an extra effort to comprehend it all.

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"It's pretty cool if you think about it. But you have to tell me what it's like being his soulmate. Ever since I met him he's always bragged about not being chained down to a soulmate."

"Oh uh..." How do you answer a question like that? I noticed Alastor had cocked his head a little to hear better. How was he paying attention to both his conversation and this one at the same time? "He's uh...how long have you known him?"

"Well I've personally known him for only about a century, now."

"Oh. Uh...and how long have you known of him?"

"He's been a nuisance for everyone for centuries," the other girl mused.

"Interesting." I played off my sudden realization.

"So what's he like?" Charlie pressed. "He's always going on about everything just being entertainment and not getting attached to anyone."

"Oh, well, he hasn't really changed then. I didn't think I had one either, quite honestly."

"Were you really a ring fighter?" the other girl abruptly asked.

"Vaggie—"

"What?"

"I was," I answered. "Why do you ask?"

"It was just really cool to watch you fight. I saw the whole thing online. You were amazing!"

"Oh." My face grew warm. "Uh, I really didn't do well."

"Sure you did. Were you taught how to fight or did you learn it from the rings?"

"I learnt it."

"How many rings did you take down?" Charlie asked.

"I think seven? But I didn't really take them down. They started back up a week later." I folded my arms together, drawing in on myself.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Charlie put a hand on my shoulder. I looked between it and her, surprised at how friendly she was being toward me. "I know a thing or two about failure."

"Charlie..."

"It's okay Vaggie."

"What do you mean?" I gently pushed.

"I tried saving my people awhile back and it didn't really work out. I tried to redeem sinners and Demons so they could go to Heaven but...it kinda fell through."

"How come?" I turned to face her completely.

"Well, it was going alright but then the portal to the surface opened. And what was the point of being redeemed when they could relive life on the surface?"

"Oh, that's really bad timing." I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that there was a Heaven and Hell in the first place, and that the Princess of Hell was telling me she was centuries old. She seemed more like my age.

"Yeah. But I figured I would wait and try again in a different way. Reimagine it!" Her eyes widened and she looked like a little kid with a gloriously bad idea.

"I think you totally should," I agreed. "What's the harm in trying again?"

"Exxxactly!" Her smile widened even more. "And you shouldn't give up taking down those fighting rings. Who knows what kind of Demon children are stuck in them? You're the only one giving any of them hope."

My mind started to wander. "Yeah...I guess so."

"We've got to keep in touch." Charlie pulled out her phone.

"Oh, I don't have one," I said nervously.

"Pfft, of course not," Vaggie sent a glare into Alastor's back, "Someone's still in the dark age."

"Yeah, well, Husker is the only one who's got a phone. And it's a pretty old one too."

"We'll connect through him then. I already have his number in my contacts."

"You already know him?"

The two of them laughed. "He and Alastor were a part of my hotel before it went under."

I nodded slowly. Alastor was in a heated discussion with Vox and Lucifer. They were all sending shots back and forth at each other, only Alastor remained in his seat while the other two were on their feet and pointing fingers.

"Maybe give it a break and meet another time?" Charlie quickly walked over. She put a hand on her father's shoulder.

"Charlie is right, per usual." Alastor half bowed his head to her.

"Of course she is," Lucifer crossed his arms. I didn't realize how short he was until Charlie stood next to him. She was my height and yet he was shorter than her shoulders.

"Come dear," Alastor said to me as he stood, "let us go home. This has been quite a productive meeting." It sounded more sarcastic than anything. Vox tried to say something but he was glitching all over. I was shocked I didn't see any smoke coming from his television head.

Charlie and Vaggie both waved as we left. I was close on Alastor's heels until we left the palace. I took the opportunity to look around at Hell. Everything was red but it looked like a normal city. The only give away was its inhuman inhabitants.

Alastor wrapped a hand around my shoulders as we teleported back to the house. I was shocked at the temperature difference. The night had been warm when we left but now the wind was like an icy chill that went right through my bones. Alastor walked ahead but I didn't follow.

"Alastor," I called. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "I um...I'd like...I'd like you to teach me magic, again."

"Why's that?"

I wasn't expecting him to ask why. He's been pushing my training so much, why wouldn't he want me to accept it? I struggled for a response and he let the air hang silent for several moments.

"Because that's how I want the next hundred years to go," I finally said. It was true, to an extent, but I had other reasons for wanting it. Reasons I didn't want him to know.

His eyes narrowed, as if trying to detect the lie. He smiled wide so his yellow teeth showed. "A wise choice, my dear."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Lots of dialogue and information but much needed! Looks like things are going to start turning around for us. Feel free to ask questions or leave any comments. I love interacting with you all!

[msschemmenti]

To Be Near You

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Prompt: Ava decided to do some staff bonding (and content gathering) and forces the teachers to have a sleepover in the school. Melissa and the reader are in a secret established relationship and get caught together.

a/n: this idea came to me before bed yesterday because I was thinking about what barbara howard would wear to sleep

“Maybe I should go get my air mattress out of my storage unit. I don’t really wanna sleep on my rug.” Y/n mumbled as she dropped onto the plastic-covered couch next to Melissa. The TV was playing some game and it currently had all of the older woman’s attention. It was a Thursday and Y/n honestly couldn’t keep up with what sport Melissa watched on Thursdays but she was really only there for the company. 

Melissa shifted as the words Y/n uttered finally broke through her focus. “Barb and Gerald are letting me borrow their spare, you won’t need yours.”

Y/n eyed the woman curiously, trying to figure out if she’d missed something within the past 6 months that would make Melissa’s response a logical solution to her problem. “Mel darling, you do understand what a lock-in is right?”

Ava’s latest fixation has been on team bonding (apparently that’s where the money is this week). And she had the brilliant idea to have the teachers spend a night in Abbott. Obviously, no one wanted to do that, but after a few threats and incentives, the woman rallied enough teachers to participate. Everyone had discussed their sleeping plans earlier over lunch and had established that they’d all be sleeping in their own classrooms, much to Janine’s dismay. Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman as she tried to convince everyone to set up their sleeping bags in the gym for an actual sleepover. She’d been shot down faster than Y/n’d ever seen before. Between Barb and Melissa, there was no chance in hell either of the women would be participating more than necessary. 

“Of course, I know what a lock-in is. What’s the issue? You haven’t ever complained about sharing a bed before now.” Melissa grumbled turning to face Y/n as the game came to an end. 

“And I’m not complaining now. I just must have missed the part where you told our co-workers you were banging the new fifth grade teacher.” Y/n replied wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

“I think I’m doing more than banging you,” Melissa wiggled her brows back causing Y/n to blush in the truth of the tease. 

“Even if that is true, how do you plan to explain me sleeping in your classroom to anyone without outing us?” 

Melissa shrugged, “I think you’re giving them all too much credit. It’ll be fine. Once everyone retires to their own classrooms, you can just come down to my room. By morning everyone will just be worried about getting out of there so the sneaking out won’t be an issue. Piece of cake.” 

“Says you, you’re not doing any of the sneaking.” Y/n rolled her eyes, she’d do anything for Melissa so her complaints were only for show. “But alright, that crosses at least one thing off of my list of things I need to pack tonight when I leave here.” 

“I’ll just take my stuff we can stay at your place.” Melissa said rising from the couch to go collect her things. “Give me like 20 mins and we can leave.” Y/n went to tell Melissa it wasn’t necessary but she was already gathering all of her things to tag along. As she watched the older woman buzz around the house readying for their own little sleepover she couldn’t help but to smile at how readily Melissa was to come home with her. 

-

“This might’ve been Ava’s best idea yet.” Janine grinned as everyone gathered in the teacher’s lounge to wait for Ava to bring dinner. “I already feel so much closer to you guys. You know I’d actually feel even closer if we all put our sleeping bags in the-” 

“Shut up Janine, dinner is served.” Ava said as she hip-checked Janine out of the doorway carrying a box of takeout orders. She brought the box to the table in front of the couch and quickly grabbed her things, “Back you filthy animals. Everyone’s orders should have their name on it.” 

Y/n rose from her seat at the table by the wall and waded through the throng of teachers to retrieve her meal. Sliding under someone’s arm she was able to get her box but saw both Barb’s and Melissa’s still sitting there. Without much thought, she grabbed them both and ducked back out of the crowd and headed for their table. She slid the boxes to each woman with a smile and turned to head back for her seat at the other table. Before she could get too far, Melissa’s hand reached for her wrist and pulled her back. “Thanks hon, why don’t you eat with us?” 

Y/n eyed Melissa hesitantly, they normally kept their in school interaction to a minimum and Y/n hardly ever sat near Melissa for to long. They’d learned that one of them had a hard time keeping her hands to herself. So the invitation was like playing with fire, especially if Y/n was meant to sneak into Melissa’s classroom to cuddle later that night. She gazed at Barb briefly before letting her eyes fall onto Melissa again and seeing the silent plea behind her eyes. 

“We won’t bite sweetheart.” Barb smiled as she hit Melissa’s shoulder in a sort of scold for still holding onto Y/n’s wrist. Y/n nodded and moved to have a seat and when Barbara returned her attention to her food she shot Melissa a warning glare, nonverbally telling her to behave. The redhead grinned mischieviously and nodded. “How was your day Y/n? I didn’t see you at lunch.” Barbara asked making polite conversation like the Godly woman she is.

“Oh it was okay, I left something at home so I ran back to get it before I had to pick the kids up. How about you?” Y/n replied gazing toward the woman kindly. That morning Melissa had been on her ass about bringing her sleeping bag and she’d planned to slide it in the car without her noticing but they’d practically been joined at the hip since they’d made it to the apartment the night before. After leaving it at home, she went back to grab it and tucked it in her classroom for the day. Of course she wouldn’t be using it, but it would be nice to have some sort of cover if anyone was to look in on her that night. Melissa didn’t see it that way, but it would come in handy this evening.

“Well I woke up this morning, so I can’t complain. But I know I’ll be complaining tomorrow after sleeping on an Air Mattress.” Barbara groaned.

“Oh I know what you mean, I’ll be lucky if I can move my back after sleeping in my sleeping bag. I’m not sure this was the best idea after all.”

“Exactly, forgive me but I do not want to see any of your faces after 3:30-” As Barbara talked Y/n startled at the feeling of a hand inching up her thigh underneath the table. She kept her gaze on Barbara but her nods in agreement became more aggressive as she tried to listen. She didn’t even have to turn to know that Melissa was sporting a proud smirk as she tease her girlfriend. Y/n knew it was around the time they were alone and free to be themselves, but the location was not ideal for this kind of teasing especially if Melissa wanted to keep their secret. “But I’ll be glad when morning comes. I just hope Gerald can make it through the night. He always says he sleeps better when I’m there. He’ll probably be wide awake tonight.” 

Y/n swatted Melissa’s hand away under the table as discreetly as possible before pouting at Barbara’s words, “That’s so romantic. I guess that makes sense though, especially since you’ve been married for so long. I hope someone feels that way about me someday.” 

“I’m sure they will hon.” Melissa said finally adding something to the conversation. Y/n let her eyes fall to the red-head and tried fight the hopeful look that she knew was on her face. Melissa winked quickly and then both women turned back to their dinner. 

-

Mel <3: Coast is clear. Everyone is asleep.

With a pillow under her arm, Y/n made her great escape through the halls of the school. She was only going down one set of stair, but she’d have to tip-toe her way passed Janine’s classroom and that would be the ultimate test of her spy skills. Once she made it down the stairs she could see Melissa peaking out of her door, looking down each side of the hallway. When their eyes met, she threw her head back in a ‘come on’ motion and reached toward Y/n making grabbing motions. 

Once in the safety of the classroom Melissa seemed to pounce on the younger woman. Their lips met languidly, dancing an all too familiar dance, before they finally broke apart when air became a necessity. “God, I’ve been waiting to do that all day. We’re never doing this again.” Melissa groaned before pulling Y/n toward the airmattress in the corner of the room. 

“Can’t argue with that. I’m gonna set an alarm to head back to my room at 7. I figure, no one will be up by then.” 

“Set it for 8. I don’t want to wake up before 8.” 

“Well baby, I’ll just be quiet. You don’t have to get up with me.” Y/n said nestling into the air mattress and Melissa’s side. 

“I know I don’t have to but if you get up, I will. It’s already hard enough falling asleep the first time. If you leave I’ll never get back to sleep, even if it is for just an hour.” Melissa confessed quietly as she pulled Y/n closer.

“Are you saying you have a hard time sleeping without me? Because that would explain a lot, but also be so romantic.” Y/n asked with a slight tease in her voice. 

“I just like being near you. I feel…I don’t know. At peace or something.” Melissa said bashfully.

“Well, I like being near you too. So I guess we both win, hm?”

“I guess you’re right.” 

“I’ll set my alarm for 8. Now let’s get some sort of sleep on this thing.” 

“Alright, goodnight hon.” Melissa said placing a kiss on Y/n’s hair.

“G’night Mel.” Y/n whispered, closing her eyes in bliss.

-

Morning came and Melissa had been right, everyone was really was just trying to get out of the building as quickly as possible. The couple had shifted position a little but were still tangled in each others arms. With Y/n’s alarm vibrating away on the floor of the classroom, the women continued to sleep in ignorant bliss. As the other teachers escaped the school for the weekend, Barbara stood outside of her best friend’s classroom hoping to catch her before she left. She figured she could get the air mattress back now to solve that problem and figured her friend would be awake by now. She opened the door and entered as she normally did, but came to a stop as she saw the two bodies tangled together on the bed. The shock didn’t last long before the smile took over at the sight of the two. Despite being on an air mattress in the middle of a classroom, both women seemed to be as comfortable as comfort could get. Y/n’s mouth wide open, a bit of drool hanging from her chin. Melissa’s arms wrapped tightly around the younger woman, as if to keep her from falling off of the bed. This was a couple that was comfortable with each other and that loved each other deeply and Barbara could see it all now. 

Making her way to the side of the bed, she picked up the vibrating phone and stopped the alarm. With great displeasure she reached down to shake her friend awake gently. As Melissa’s eyes creeked open, her gaze first fell to Y/n. She seemed to mentally and physically check to make sure she was alright before she let her eyes wander the room. They quickly landed on Barb and her cheeks flamed as bright as her hair. 

“Good morning.” Barbara smiled down at the woman. 

“Morning.” Melissa answered sheepishly. She waited for Barbara admonishment or warning, but it never came. The woman smiled softly before nodding down to the mattress. 

“I’m heading home, but you can just give the mattress to me Monday. I’ll tell everyone you’ve already left on my way out.” 

Melissa nodded gratefully before watching the older woman head for the door. Barbara paused before leaving turning back to Melissa, “I’m expecting a call sometime before then to hear about all of this.” 

“I’d expect nothing less. I’ll call you tonight.” Melissa promised, causing Barbara to nod with a grin before heading out of the school.

It wasn’t long before the snoozed alarm went off again and Y/n stirred away, as her eyes adjusted to the sun peaking through the windows she looked up at Melissa with a lazy smile. “What are you doing up? What time is it?” 

“After 8 and Barb knows.” Melissa shrugged snuggling further into the covers now that they had a bit of downtime before they had to get up.

“Well, better her than Janine.” Y/n said following Melissa back to comfort.

“Yes, anyone would be better than Janine.” Melissa agreed with a smile placing a goodmorning kiss to Y/n’s forehead. “Good morning.” 

“A good morning indeed.” Y/n smiled leaning up to plant a kiss of her own on Melissa’s waiting lips.

[bringbacktim]

fwb roommate!schlatt wearing a compression shirt omgogmogomgomg i wanna ride him while he has only the shirt on

I genuinely had to look up what a compression shirt was , but Oh my god I agree wholeheartedly

Gym shirt- Jschlatt

Synopsis above

Warnings: Smut, sex , not edited or proofread , first time smut writing

Word count :985 ( I went way overboard)

Schlatt had just gotten back from a trip to the gym with one of his friends and he was sporting a very flattering black compression shirt that he wears every time cause it helps with blood flow during a workout or whatever, he thought nothing of it it was the shirt he always wore to the gym so why would this time be any different

Well , he could barely get two steps in the door before his (hot) roommate, who he casually hooked up with , launched from the couch and clung to him like a koala

"Someone's excited to see me " he said dropping his bag to his side and holding the underside of her thighs to stabilise the attack

" you're always so mean to me " she laughed peppering kisses along his neck as he gladly let her

" are you going to let me get to the shower or just cling to me forever"

"Is that an invitation?" She asked smugly

" no , I'd be too tempted to drown you" he laughed as she ignored him too turned on by the sight of him in this magnificent shirt

" why don't you skip the shower tonight?" She asked as he finally put her down and she dragged her finger down then front of the shirt , his hands firmly on her hips

" what's got you all turned on tonight ?" He asked knowing it was him but wanting to hear her say it

"You absolutely glistening in that tight shirt , I want to ride you into that couch" she smirked knowing he'd let her

"In just this shirt huh?" He taunted her knowing how hot he was acting (and looking)

"I know there's a condom in that gym bag for when I go with you occasionally" she said reaching down to grab it from the front pocket

"Don't get smart with me broad"

"I can always go the gym and find some other hot shirt wearing guy to fuck if you can't" she tried to tease , but he was smarter than that

"But none of those guys can fuck you like I can and you know that" he said through almost gritted teeth

"Prove it then" she dared him

About 3 seconds after those words left her mouth she was pulled onto his lap as he sat on the couch y/n was watching some random forgotten tv show on before schlatt came home

His trousers had been lost to the new pile of clothes disappearing on the floor , soon after her pajama bottoms also followed

As y/n straddled schlatt she couldn't believe that he had actually agreed to let him ride her in his t-shirt still hot and sweaty from the gym

Quite quickly the room became full of heavy breathes , open mouthed kisses on every inch of skin either of them could reach , but obviously no hickies because then they couldn't sleep with anyone else ( not that either of them wanted to )

Foreplay was out the window as soon as they started making out against the door , there was absolutely no need for it they were both turned on to another dimension at this fantasy

"As much as I love making out with you , can you hurry the fuck up and ride me into this couch like you promised" he said holding her hips firmly and grinding them over his as he hanged his head over the back of the aforementioned couch , shut his eyes, and groaned in pleasure

"If you insist" without even bothering to lift his head from the back of the furniture he could feel that she was hovering above him and lining himself up with her , but had to stop after the first inch and a half due to the absolute size of him

"Fu-fuck always forget how big you are" she whined from on top as she grabbed his shoulders for stability

"They don't call me big guy for nothing toots" he laughed finally looking at her who was now trying to make her way down his dick

A lot of gibberish was spoken and eyes were rolled back as she sat flush down with his hips , balling his shirt in her hands and moaning about how hot he looked in it as he basked in how hot she was

"Don't ever stop wearing this fuck shit shirt " she moaned as their bodies made various slapping noises as their skin connected

"Taking me so well fuck you're so good at this"

"This is going to be the shortest sex we've ever had" she said staring in his eyes as she bounced harder than ever on him as he agreed via moaning louder and more frequently than he had been

"Worth it" schlatt breathlessly said into her ear as she leant her head on his shoulder whining that he was so big and making her feel so good

Y/n's moans went almost too high pitched and deafening when he found her clit and started rubbing it in circles

"Oh fuck do that again" she begged trapping his hand there

"Don't even have to search for it ,can feel you throbbing through my shirt" he rubbed harder and in sloppy circles this time

"Gonna come , gonna come" tears pricked in the corners of her eyes out of pure pleasure and she never wanted it to end

He wasn't far behind her , it was far too hot for him to see his roommate (who he definitely hadn't caught feelings for) bouncing on his cock and crying and whining about how full she was of him and how good he made her feel just because of some gym shirt

"This is going to become my new favourite shirt" he half joked as he leant over the arm of the sofa to grab some tissues and clean her up

"I can agree on that one"

[yeahiwasintheshit]

i watched 'Gummo" last tonight and as i was watching it i vaguely remember why i hadnt seen it before, cause a friend back in college said that its "art school garbage", and as someone who helped a lot of film majors on their films and sat thru A LOT of art school garbage while in school, i didnt need to see that lol. all these years later, watching it now, its certainly more than just art school garbage, but ehhhhh not THAT much more. its very of its time, in that it felt very 90s... and not even in terms of what people are wearing... styles of clothes or whatever, but in the look of the film, like the shaky camera, fast editing, cameras it was shot with... like one scene is in 35mm, another its 8mm, another is video or theyre shooting a tv playing a scene... it felt very mtv music video in that way. but it was of its time, so i dont really fault it that much for that.

i do think there is something there, tho, that elevates it to something more interesting than typical crappy art school garbage. before i started watching it, i tried to think of what i did know about it, and all i could think of was the poster, the kid eating spaghetti, the kid with rabbit ears, chloe, and the girl creepily shaving her eyebrows. and even only knowing that, that pretty much kinda sums up the whole movie. gummo is experimental and non-linear with no real plot. its just kind of a bunch of scenes of these mostly young people in this town... not even sure id say its a character study either, cause there are no arcs to any of them really. it really is just scenes of all these very poor people. id say the dialogue is effective and rings true to these people. like it all felt very naturalistic. but just one scene after another. they could have jumbled up the scenes in almost any order and it wouldnt have mattered.

so at the beginning, the narrator comes on and says that this town, xenia, ohio was hit by a tornado where alot of people died many years earlier, and now these people have been surviving in this desolate town. then we meet the 2 protagonists, and theyre almost immediately about to kill a cat. what doesnt work for me is the director, harmony korine, trying to be shocking. like i get trying to establish how fucked up these kids lives are now, and that them killing small animals for money, and sport, is not a big deal to them, that they dont have morals or conscience, but its sort of the way it was shot and constantly going back to a dead cat, like close-ups of it hanging with its tongue out, it just said to me, "oh look at me, im a shocking young director, look at me, look how punk and shocking i can make this movie". its kinda juvenile and.. yes well... kinda art school-ish.

also its kinda exploitative, just to be shocking. like the 2 main kids go to this guys house to pay for sex with, idk if its his sister or who, but they pay him and one by one they go in, and then you discover the girl who is being prostituted out is a girl with down syndrome, and its almost kinda played as a joke, cause they put some homer simpsons shotgun whore make up on this poor girl. idk... it just feltl like a joke and not real to the scene... not that these horrible people in this town wouldnt take advantage of vulnerable people for their own gain, but idk, its the way it was shot, and almost the reveal of the fact that she was someone with disabilities, was a joke or exploitative or something. like i dont think id be opposed to using someone with downs in a scene like this JUST BECAUSE they have downs, but just the way THEY filmed THIS scene or edited or presented did not work for me. all it said was "wow look its downs syndrome girl" and nothing more than that.

what did work is that most of movie felt very real, almost documentary in how it captured these people, and also just how viscerally gross looking everything looked. like really truly disgusting. all these people are wearing rags, and have greasy hair and sweaty faces and the houses are in shambles, some like clearly hoarder houses. the one scene that was prob the grossest for me, (and it wasnt the scene of the kid eating spaghetti in the bathtub, cause eventho i think that scene is synonymous with the movie, the bathtub water was like fake dirty looking or something. it looked like it was colored greenish brown, and it just really didnt feel as real as the rest of the sets in the movie. like as im watching i was thinking did they dye the water with a green brown dye? it was sort of jarring and kinda took me out of the scene a bit.) but actually the one scene that really felt like it was an encapsulation of the whole movie, was (in the gif above) of this little boy, maybe 5-6-7 yrs old and hes barefoot in this disgusting, clearly hoarder house standing on this pile of garbage, and hes next to a wall and jiggles like a painting or framed art on the wall and you just see this one cockroach just scurry out along the wall, but then right next to it is a framed photo of this family all sitting together in like a sears portrait, but the kid grabs the photo off the wall and you just see dozens of cockroaches just all scurrying off into all different directions, and i felt a little queasy. it was kind of the most real scene in the whole movie. the kid then climbs down off the pile and you see the 2 young protagonists on the couch sitting next to a girl and all 3 are huffing glue out of a paper bag, and this young child just crawls into the arms of the girl, and you kinda get the impression shes maybe his mom? all of it is so depressing and gross. then the camera zooms in as the young boy is laying on this girl huffing from the bag, and you see an extreme close up of the boys legs and they are bitten up by bugs. like i dont know if that was makeup or if that was real real, but damn if it didnt really look real, and you felt sad for this kid, kinda sick to your stomach. it was truly maybe the most real and disgusting scene in the whole movie.

for me, that scene of the kid and cockroaches really WAS the whole point of the movie. the mess this house was in was like the aftermath of the tornado, just a complete disaster. the happy photo on the wall was all the families before the tornado, and the roaches scurrying are what was left of these poor people in this town, scared of the light and running around in all directions. idk if harmony korine planned this, but this scene in particular, out of everything seemed to sum up everything the movie was trying to say. it was gross and heartbreaking and you feel bad these people are still living this way so many years after the destruction the tornado left.

the one other kinda complimentary thought i had about how the movie was presented, was i thought the parallel of movie being just a bunch of jumbled scenes of this town that hasnt recovered from the tornado, and the tornado itself being this destructive force that jumbled up the whole town, idk maybe some kind of parallel between those 2 thing kinda worked some. not really a fully put together thought, but something i thought of.

overall it was a compelling watch, i didnt really get bored of these weird people, some scenes may have gone on a little longer than necessary, but for the most part i was always interested in seeing where it was going next. theres some highly uncomfortable scenes, some worked and some didnt. the actors were fine, you can tell some were professional and some the director prob just found, but for the most part no one stuck out as inauthentic to where the movie was set. there was also a lot of shaky cam which a couple times i had to look away cause it was making me feel dizzy. but the movie looked pretty good, naturalistic for the most part, that felt appropriate for the scenes. i never picked up my phone, so i was never bored. not sure if id watch again, but maybe. i didnt love it, i didnt hate it. its kinda hard to say i didnt feel anything for it, cause it was shocking and gross and disgusting in many parts, but it kinda felt like it was shocking for shocking sake, with no real reason other than "look at me i made a shocking movie". worth watching i suppose if something like this sounds like something youd maybe appreciate.

[luvsforloak]

Cuddles (modern au)

pairing: (basketball player) Lo'ak x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: no warnings

summary: y/n is tired from all the studying and waits for Lo'ak to come home from basketball practice.

words: 355 (im so sorry help)

taglist: @downbadforloak

a/n: it took tbh so much time to come up with this idea, its kinda embarrassing. but it was fun to write, if yall have more ideas lemme know

It was about 9pm at night and you were busy studying for your exams coming up. Even though it was only 9 you were really tired because of all of the studying. The only thing you wanted to do tonight was lay in Lo’aks arms and fall asleep. Sadly he was at basketball practice. 

You were sitting at your desk looking out the window, waiting for Lo’ak to return. You slowly laid your head down on your desk, but you forgot that your laptop was laying right there, with a biology video open on youtube that you needed to help you study. Your head fell on your laptop, right at the spacebar causing the video to continue. You immediately jumped up from the scare, “oh shit…” you said while rubbing your eyes. 

You decided to just go lay on the couch waiting for Lo’ak to return. While flopping on the couch you grabbed the tv remote and put on some netflix. You didn’t wanna fall asleep yet, but you were so tired, you immediately closed your eyes and drifted to sleep. 

“Hey babe i’m back.” Lo’ak said walking into your dorm room, “oh fuck ur asleep” he whispered to himself while putting his sports bag on the ground. He tippy-toed to the couch trying not to wake you. “Hmm…” you mumbled quietly in your sleep. He grabbed a blanket and put it over you while he sat next to you on the couch. You were curled up in a little ball, so he fitted perfectly next to you.

“Oh hey Lo’ak, how was practice?” you asked slowly sitting up, “it was good, I’m sorry that im late, it’s just my c-” he couldn't even finish his sentence, “no. no. no. don't apologise. It’s fine” you laid your head on his shoulder snuggling in his arms. “Can you maybe help me study tomorrow? It’s just all so difficult and I don't understand anything” you asked him yawning as if you were about to fall asleep. “Ofcourse baby, I’m not really smarter then you, but we can try” he said laughing a little bit. “Goodnight Y/n”

[girlsbeingtheirbestself]

get out of a rot 🧖‍♀️🎀🎧📖🌺

hey guys!

so recently i have just been not doing great. I spend hours scrolling, I havent been washing my hair enough or my face i have a messy room and ive not been eating great or doing enough exercise i just feel…. ugh. the people that get it, get it. idk how many people can see this but if you’re feeling the same… we are gonna get out of this together! lmk in the comments pls! 

ok so i don’t want to loose a load of readers by saying this but just hear me out and ill explain why in a second! i have deleted insta tiktok and snap. I KNOW. its just the main cause of my rot and im gonna reinstall snap i think because i need it to text my friends but i deleted so i can GET RID OF THIS FLIPPING ACCICTION! its bad. i go on my phone and ipad (i know) wayyyy to much. that has been my first step. ive had it deleted a couple days and im gonna try keep it as long as poss. i feel much less stressful too because im not waiting for replies 24/7! its quite good actually. 

now tomorrow if you can here is what you are gonna do:

tonight, go to bed at 9.00 or 10.00 earliest you can. (if its later than 7.00 do this tomorrow so you aren’t going to bed late!) put screens away before bed and have a hot shower (or cold however you like) and RINSE AWAY THE ROT! then get in comfy pjs. read until you are tired. listen to a sleep story and fall asleep

ok…here is the plan for the day.

wake up at 6 or 6.30 or 7 am whichever works best for you. don’t groan and pull the covers over your head. get up and put on sports shorts and a baggy tshirt. go for a short fast run and come back tired and sweaty. stretch for a few mins and do an ab workout (lmk if you want the best one i know!) pour yourself a glass of ice water and gulp it down. get in the shower and wash, shave if you like to. wash your hair use your fav products and then get out and put lotion all over. get into comfy but presentable cute clothes and tidy your room - start with your bed and tidy the best you can. you shouldn’t have touched your phone yet. just pretend you are still asleep. go to the kitchen and cook your fav breakfast. avo on toast? pancakes with maple syrup? whatever you want babes. ok now clear up and if you have any get some simple homework done. i know big tasks seem scary but it will feel easier. write 3 achievable goals for the day in a notebook along with your thoughts. just write whatever. this will be your lifeline for your unrotten life. DRINK WATER! im shit at this but it cleans you inside and out! then, after what you need to do with your day (if you have nothing to do, connect with freinds family or pets or if you can’t then clean anthing or draw or style your hair or comment on this or start your own blog) take a short walk and cook a nutritious lunch with veg and fruit for dessert. then workout again just a bit to get you sweaty and tired! eat a yum dinner and have a quick shower again. then brush your teeth and tongue and use mouthwash and floss then wash your face. get in your cutest pjs and watch a little tv before bed but do this mindfully, know how long and how much you will watch. then get into your cozy bed and snuggle with your teddies. have a hot tea/milk and a hot water bottle. write how you feel in your journal (just a little scribble, no need for neatness) and read until your tired. fall asleep AND DONT TOUCH YOUR PHONE its you enemy! 

right its 11.30pm now. i should go to bed. night! ill be back with more tips and another routine tomorrow 

see you then xoxo

[ariestrxsh]

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, degradation, humiliation, mean!matt, brattamer!matt, roughdom!matt, mentions of masturbation, enemies to lovers (but without the fluff)

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Your best friends, Nick and Chris, offer to let you come over to use their water while yours is out at your place. The only problem is you and their brother Matt have always absolutely despised each other, and because both Nick and Chris are gone for the night, you're stuck with Matt all alone.

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

hatef--k part one

"Thank you so much for letting me run a load of laundry and shower over here, you guys. You're seriously lifesavers," I told Nick and Chris, emptying my mess of gym and work clothes into the washing machine.

"Of course. Any idea how long your water's gonna be out?" Nick asked me. "No, I wish. They said anywhere from a few hours to a few days" I groaned.

"Well, like I said earlier, anything you need, we got you. Even if you need to stay here until it's back on, you're welcome to," Chris said, packing up his bag to go over to Nate's place for the night.

"That's really sweet of you, Chris. I might take you up on that if it's not back on by the end of the day," I replied. "Yeah, Chris and I won't even be sleeping here tonight, so you can stay in either of our rooms," Nick mentioned.

"Ew, what is she doing here?" Matt said, entering the room, gesturing at me. "Dude, c'mon, her water's out, and she needs a place to stay for a bit," Chris snapped at Matt.

I got along great with Chris and Nick, but Matt and I weren't very fond of each other. I thought he was cocky, disgusting, and rude, and he thought I was bitchy, shallow, and a whore, and it seemed like we couldn't exist in the same space with one another without being at each other's throats. But we often had to be in each other's space because of our mutual love of Nick and Chris.

"Please tell me you're also staying the night somewhere else," I said, rolling my eyes at Matt. "Why? 'Cause you wanna sleep in my bed?" He asked, smiling at me. "Not in a million years," I shot back. "Nope, not going anywhere tonight," he smirked. "Staying right here so I can annoy you as much as you annoy me."

"Oh my god, you guys, don't kill each other while we're gone. My uber is here," Nick said, putting on his sunglasses and strutting out the front door. "Yeah, seriously. Just please pretend you get along for once," Chris begged right before following Nick out.

I scoffed at Matt and walked over to the couch in the living room and started flipping through channels on their TV. "Um, what is your TV broken too?" Matt gave me attitude, grabbing the remote from me. "C'mon Matt. I can't leave at least until my laundry's done, and I need something to do while I wait to move it along," I whined back, reaching for the remote.

"Okay, cool. So you don't mind watching the game with me then?" Matt asked, turning on some sports channel. "Oh my god, so fucking boring. I just wanted to watch The Bachelorette," I groaned at him. "Yeah? Well that sucks. Who wants to watch some pathetic guys all drool over the same girl?" Matt rolled his eyes at me. "I do!" I yelled, making a last desperate attempt to snatch back the remote.

"Yeah, I bet you like that show because you're a little slut, and you're always juggling a bunch of dudes," Matt sneered. "Hey! That's really mean," I said in a genuinely hurt tone. "Not my fault that it's true," Matt responded harshly.

Sometimes, when Matt would say things like that to me, which was fairly often, it would make me feel a certain type of way that was hard to pinpoint. I was authentically disgusted and got my feelings hurt, but sometimes I'd feel a sensation of yearning in my core, and I didn't fully understand it. It was similar to being turned on, but it was accompanied by all these gross feelings of humiliation and anger, so I tried not to look into it much.

"You know, I just haven't found anyone worth committing to. Doesn't make me a whore," I defensively responded. "Whatever. Why do you care what I think? Is it cause you want me?" Matt smirked. "Absolutley not," I answered, following it up with a gagging sound.

"Yeah, is that how you'd sound, choking on me?" Matt laughed. "Ew, you're sick!" I shouted, storming out of the room. I decided to take a nice, long, hot, everything shower to cleanse myself of Matt's deranged behavior and how sick he made me feel.

I had everything I needed with me already - my razor, my body wash, my shampoo and conditioner, my entire skin care bag, and a towel, along with a change of clothes. I was still in what I'd worn to the gym earlier, and it was nice to finally shed off all my layers and feel the hot water hitting the back of my head and running down the rest of my body.

While I was shaving my legs, I thought I heard someone rustling around in the bathroom with me. "Matt?" I asked. "Chill, I'm just grabbing something. I'll be out of here in a minute," he said. "Fuck you, Matt. Whatever it is, it can wait. I'm in the middle of something here," I complained.

"What? Are you touching yourself?" Matt snickered at me. "Ew gross! I could never do that while I'm in the same house as you. Just get the fuck out. I'm trying to enjoy my shower," I felt myself growing red. I did feel a bit of wetness between my legs as I went to clean myself, but I certainly couldn't do anything about it now. I wouldn't let Matt be right about anything if I could help it.

After shaving and scrubbing just about every inch of myself, I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. I went to reach for my towel and realized it was missing. And so were my clothes? "Matt!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, rifling through the different cabinets and shelves in the bathroom. The fucking pervert took anything I had to cover myself with when he was in here.

"You fucking asshole! Bring me my towel and my clothes!" I shouted out the bathroom door. "You didn't bring clothes or a towel into the bathroom with you? God, you really are a little slut!" Matt yelled back from a few rooms away.

"Not funny, Matt. C'mon. There's nothing for me to dry off with in here!" I yelled. "Well, I guess you're gonna have to come in here and get your towel," Matt responded. "Can you bring it to me?"

"Nope, sorry. In the middle of a game." "I'm not gonna wait 'til you're done with your game. Bring me my towel, jackass!" "That's no way to talk to someone who has the power to either bring you or not bring you your towel. You can always come in here and get it," Matt taunted me.

Fuck. "Fine, I'll wait here patiently 'til your game is over. Just please bring me my towel soon."

A few minutes later, I heard Matt's voice outside the bathroom door. I cracked it open and peered out at him. He was standing about six feet away from me, holding my folded towel. "Here you go," he smiled smugly at me, barely making an attempt to entend his arm. "My arms aren't that long, Matt. Please bring it to me," I reached my hand out, hiding my naked body behind the door. "No, you can meet me halfway," Matt teased.

I found myself getting so undeniably wet at this. I couldn't understand it. How was it that Matt, who was clearly very disturbed and also a fucking asshole, had me sexually excited over the fact that he was trying to humiliate me and see me naked.

"Fuck you, Matt," I said coming out from behind the door and trying to snatch the towel from him. He held it up in the air out of my reach. "You're such a dick, you know that? What? Is this what you wanted to see?" I said, giving up on getting the towel back and gesturing towards my body.

Matt couldn't help but to glance up and down my body and nibbled on his lip as he tried his hardest to contain his grin. "Why the fuck would I wanna see that? You're the one basically throwing yourself at me," Matt handed me my towel, winked at me, and walked away.

"Where did you put my clothes, Matt?" I said, wrapping my towel around me. "What clothes?" He rolled his eyes at me. "Not fucking funny. The only clothes that I have that are clean right now. Give them to me," I demanded. "No, I think you look better in that towel," he smiled at me.

"Perv," I called him. "I might be a perv, but you like it," he responded. "No, I don't," I quickly answered. "There's only one way for me to find out," Matt looked at me with a dark look in his eyes. "I bet you're wet right now, because you're a little whore, and you love being teased and showing off your body."

"I am not!" I argued back. "Let's make this interesting. Prove it to me, and if you're telling the truth and you're not wet, I'll do whatever you want," Matt said, "and if I'm right and you are wet down there, then you have to let me eat you out."

"Oh my god you're so gross, Matt," I pushed him back gently. "What do you want if you win our little game?" Matt replied. "You have to be nice to me for a month," I stated, "and you have to give me my clothes you took and finish the rest of my laundry while I go home and enjoy the rest of my night alone."

"Okay, deal," Matt said, reaching for the bottom of my towel and slowly pushing it up. I wasn't a religious person, but in that moment, I prayed that I wasn't wet enough for Matt to be able to tell. I bit my lip and held back a moan as he brushed his finger between my folds.

"Wow, naughty girl. You are wet," Matt observed. "Fuck you, Matt," I answered, my face reddening. "I knew you were touching yourself in the shower," he whispered back, continuing to run his fingers over my wetness. "No, I swear, I really wasn't," I responded, slowly losing my focus as Matt played with me.

"You mean, you got this wet and you didn't even touch yourself? You really are turned on, you dirty little whore," Matt growled back to me. "I hate it when you call me that," I moaned.

"You hate it? Your wet pussy is telling me otherwise," Matt teased me. "Sorry, correction, I fucking hate you," I lashed out. "I think you fucking love to hate me," Matt said, tilting my chin up with his finger. I pushed him again. I watched as something in his demeanor changed, the way his features darkened and became more serious.

He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder while my towel barely clung to my body. I protested and started hitting his back as he carried me into his room, but I secretly couldn't wait for him to have his way with me.

part two posted here 💖

[bkgml]

drunk katsuki!

katsuki hates drinking.

he hates not having a filter on his thoughts. he hates the thought of someone getting injured while he was too drunk to protect them.

though, the thing he hates most right now, is the fact that you’re not beside him. you had to work late tonight and told katsuki to go out with his friends. maybe you’d come later in the night but it’s plausible that you’d be much too tired.

katsuki never let’s himself get drunk.

he’s missing you though. let’s himself have more drinks than he should’ve so he could make up for the fact that you’re not there.

it takes two hours for kiri (tonight’s designated driver) to notice katsukis drunk.

at first glance he looks like his normal self, arms crossed in front of him, frown on his face.

if you take a closer look though, his crossed arms are actually hugging himself and his frown is more of a pout.

“bakubro! what’s up!” he says, making his way over to him.

katsuki lets out a little grumble? whine?? kiri isn’t sure.

“where’s my girl?” katsuki frowns, looking around the bar.

kirishima lets out a little laugh and bakugou glares at him.

“yn’s working tonight, remember? she should be back home by now, but she’s tired, long day.”

“stupid fuckin work. i want her with me.” katsuki pouts, his voice getting softer.

“you’ll see her tomorrow! just enjoy the party tonight!” kirishima attempts to cheer up his friend.

katsuki whips his head in kirishimas direction.

“tomorrow? i won’t see her tonight??” he sounds desperate.

“uh no, bro. first thing tomorrow, promise.”

“i need her now, kiri.” katsuki pleads.

kirishima pauses. when had he ever called him kiri? or begged??

“um i mean i could call her?” kirishima offers.

“yeah! yesyesyeysyes.” he slurs.

you are so tired. you want to go to sleep so bad right now. you were supposed to go to the bar with your friends but, god, you’re so tired.

*incoming call from: kiri*

you groan. that’s probably kiri trying to get you to the bar.

“hey, yn. im sorry if i woke you” he doesn’t sound like his normal cheery self.

“hey, normally you’d be yelling in my ear to get me to party. is everything alright? where’s katsuki?” you say, concerned.

“put it on speakerrrrr.” a distant voice calls to kirishima.

“alright, alright. yn we’re on speaker now.”

you can hear the sounds of the bar in the background, mina and kami squealing at each other, the clanging of beer bottles, the tv in the back with some sports game on it.

“ynnnnnn.” katsuki says, interrupting your train of thought.

“katsuki? are you drunk??” you say, stunned.

“that’s not importanttttt. why aren’t you hereeee, you’re so warm and soft, want you here.” you can practically hear his pout. katsukis never drunk.

“kirishima? why is he drunk?”

“i don’t know, this is new to me. would you pick him up? it doesn’t look like he wants to be here-“

“HEY DONT IGNORE ME!” katsuki shouts.

“hey kiri can you pass the phone to him?”

kirishima does as he’s told.

“babyyyyyy, *hiccup* why aren’t you here with me? want your pretty face beside me all the time.”

“i know, kats, i wanna be with you all the time too. i’m going to come get you okay? you should keep quiet until i get there cause kami’s going to record you if he sees you.” you say to avoid arguments between katsuki and kaminari the following day.

“mmmkay. i’ll always listen to you, pretty. you’re so smart.” katsuki says, dazed.

“okay, bye, katsuki, bye kiri!” you say, grabbing your keys.

when you arrive at the bar you text kirishima to bring katsuki to the car.

a couple minutes go by and kirishima comes out, holding katsuki close beside him.

you get out of the car to meet them.

“yn!!” katsuki cheers.

“hi, kats, did you have too many drinks?”

“nu uh.” he defends.

“here you go.” kirishima says as he gently pushes katsuki to you.

he leans on you, arms around your waist, and face in your neck.

you rub his back.

“hi.” katsuki says shyly, rubbing his nose into your neck.

“hi.” you whisper back.

“thanks a lot, kiri.” you say, grateful for your friend.

“anytime! see you guys!” kirishima waves and turns on his heel, heading back into the bar.

“where do you want to sit katsuki? beside me? or in the back so you can lay down?” you ask.

“wanna sit beside you.” he says, pecking your cheek.

you struggle to get him in his seat, with him not wanting to stop holding you.

“okay, there you go katsuki. i’m just going to go around to my seat, kay?” trying to get him to let go of your arm.

“mmmmmfh. fine.” he huffs, letting go of your arm to cross his own, and turning his head away from you.

you close his door, walking around to your side and getting in.

“hi!” katsuki uncrosses his arms and reaches out to grab you hand.

seems he forgot he was mad.

“hi.” you say, lovingly smoothing his hair.

as you drive home katsuki leans over the console to rest his head on your shoulder.

“we’re home, kats!” you say, excited to get in bed.

“home?” he questions.

“uh huh, come on let’s go inside.” you get out of the car, heading to his door and opening it for him.

he sighs in relief.

“i thought you were going in without me.” he pouts and you laugh.

“without you? never. i need my favourite boy inside with me.” you say and grab his hand, helping him step out of the car.

as you unlock the front door katsuki presses his cheek to your back and holds your waist.

“okay katsuki, can you walk to the bedroom alone? i just want to get you some water.” you say heading to the kitchen.

you grab a glass and pour some water into it. then, you head out past the front hall on your way to the bedroom but you still see katsuki standing in the front hall.

“what’s up, kats, why aren’t you in the bedroom?” you ask.

“don’t wanna go without you.” he pouts.

you laugh.

“okay.” you grab his hand.

“let’s go together then, yeah?” you say, walking to your room hand in hand.

“mmm bed.” katsuki says as you get into your bedroom, flopping onto the bed in his clothes,

“don’t fall asleep yet, katsuki.” you say.

“fine.” he says sitting up.

you give him his glass of water to drink.

then you make him stand up and undress him to his boxers.

“why’re you trying to see me naked?” he laughs to himself.

“you like what you see?”

“get in bed, katsuki.” you laugh.

“you come too?” he asks.

“uh huh, move over.” you say patting his thigh.

he moves so you can get in.

as you shuffle into the sheets and pull the covers over the two of you, katsuki sits up on his forearms so he can lay between your legs with his head on your chest.

“hi.” he says, eyes closing.

“hi.” you whisper back, threading your fingers through his hair.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Losing Game [Antoine Griezmann x fem!OC] (Chap. IV)

Requested: No​

Pairing: Antoine Griezmann x OC!Gabrielle Darian; more to be added.

Warnings: English is not my first language!

Wordcount: 2.8K+

A/N: Thank you for reading! GIF IS NOT MINE. Enjoy!

Previous chapter

“I’m so tired,” Louisa sighed weakly. “You?”

“A bit,” I answered.

“You nailed it, girl. Really. Forget about what your mother said, I only heard positive stuff about the gala.”

We entered in the living room, and sat in front of the TV for five minutes.

“Plus,” she teased, “you even got yourself an admirer.”

“Who?”

“Emilien. You know, the guy with blond hair. I asked our friend Google, his last name is Beaufort and he plays in Italy.”

“We barely talked,” I retorted.

“Touché. But trust me, girl, he couldn’t stop looking at you for the whole night!”

“Good for him.”

“You’re harsh, he’s actually good looking. Or maybe you prefer Mbappe?”

“He’s very kind,” I admitted, putting my hair down and raising my shoulders.

“Griezmann, then?”

“What?”

I turned to her. Did she see us talking? Did she see him put his face closer to mine?

“Well, I saw you talking to him,” she reminded me. “Right after that, I was talking to Varane when Lloris arrived and asked where Griezmann was.”

“He’s very nice,” I answered innocently. “Like the others.”

“Oh yes, Lloris and Varane were very nice. Kante too, a real sweetheart.”

“Good, ‘cause Kylian invited us to the match tomorrow. And I said yes.”

She gave me a confused look. Oh God, don’t tell me she doesn’t want to go?”

“I thought you would accept, since…Crap, was it wrong of me?!”

I barely finished talking that she jumps towards me and shakes my arm.

“Yeeees!! I can’t wait, oh my God! Oh geez, we’re gonna need jerseys! Whose jersey will you choose?”

*-*

The morning after, some kind of messenger comes knock at our door to give us the tickets for the match, plus two bouquets of flowers and a pretty little blue cloth bag with two yellow bracelets inside. Louisa’s bouquet doesn’t have a note, but mine has, with a message from Kylian.

“Promises are made to be kept 😊

I hope you’ll have a good time at the Stadium.

Maybe we can grab a coffee some time?

See you tonight,

K.

PS: If you don’t mind coming in the locker-room after the match, the guys would like to meet you.”

“Ooooh,” Louisa said after reading the note behind my shoulder. “He’s so into you!”

“Stop it,” I said putting down the note. “He’s just being polite.”

Louisa and I both were free this morning and she thought of it at the opportunity to bring me to “urgent” shopping. Thank God, we quickly find a sport shop that sells the Bleus’ jerseys. Louisa, incapable of making a choice, takes a jersey that doesn’t have a name or number on it, and I’m about to do the same when I see Antoine’s jersey. Without hesitation, I take one and we go to the till. After one hour and a half of shopping, we finally head home. After lunch, I go to work and work on last night’s gala. I’m home at 6 pm, and Louisa is waiting for me excitedly. After studying, we have a quick diner, we prepare ourselves, put our jerseys on, and it’s already time to go. Louisa talks makes her prognostics for the whole ride, and her good mood is just contagious. We arrive at the stadium, where people are already coming in. We walk to our seats, and we see that we have a great view. People arrive around us, and we patiently wait for the game while talking joyfully – we you can call me repeating “I’m telling you he’s just being polite!” and Louisa, stubborn as hell, insisting “I’m telling you he’s into you!” a discussion. The game finally begins, and the two teams comes in. I sing the national anthem with all the supporters, and the match officially begins.

After a few minutes, N’Golo Kanté shoots but the Italian goalkeeper stops it with a jump on the left. Barely a few minutes later, Benjamin Pavard raises the ball, which find Kylian, standing on the very left of the Italian goal. He shoots but the ball arrives in the keeper’s legs, who jumped on the ground. But the ball slips through his fingers, and Samuel Umtiti takes his chance: he shoots and finds the soccer goal. The French supporters scream of joy, and Louisa and I join them in their celebration, jumping and screaming with them. Later on, an Italian player makes on fool on Lucas Hernandez, which outrages the supporters of the Bleus. The player raises his hands, yells that he’s innocent, but the referee is not stupid and decide on a penalty for us. We see the French team consult each other, and Emilien, who I first recognize from his blond hair, seems more that determined to shoot it, and even walks to Didier Deschamps. But it’s eventually Antoine that takes the responsibility. Everything stands silent for a few seconds, then Antoine aims at the goal’s right, and even if the keeper jumps in the right direction he cannot stop it. French supporters rise with joy again, French flags are being waved, and Louisa and I hug each other. Jeez, I think I just found myself a new passion. Less than twenty minutes later, Griezmann does it again, scoring with an assist from Ousmane Dembélé. A few minutes later, the Italian team get a free kick, thankfully our keeper and captain stops it. But Italian captain Bonucci, without any hesitation, shoots out of a sudden and scores.

“Shit,” I say loudly.

Everyone around us is just upset as we are. Later, the referee uses his whistle: it’s half-time. Louisa leaves to get a snack, swearing she’ll be on a diet tomorrow, and comes back right on time for the referee to start the second half. A few minutes later, the Italian come close to score, but thank God Hugo Lloris stops it. He gives the ball to his teammates, and Ousmane finds it. He starts running like crazy, and the fans scream to cheer on him. He arrives to the Italian goal, and when a player from the other team come to take the ball, Ousmane fakes shooting the ball in the center but takes the ball back and shoots. The ball hits the cross-bar, and a disappointed whisper is heard among the Bleus’ fans. But suddenly, Emilien tackles an Italian player, starts running and shoots. This is it! The stadium makes its joy heard and Emilien celebrates for an entire minute. And I thought he was the calm kind…Later, Ousmane tries two time, and Florian tries once, but nothing works. The final whistle is heard and I clap with the other supporters.

“We need to go to the next matches!” I tell Louisa, raising from my seat. “Even if we must go to Siberia!”

She laughs and nods.

“Come, we’ll go see them.”

“We’re allowed to?” she asked, not entirely convinced.

“I don’t know, but Kylian said the team wanted to meet us.”

“I can’t wait to see his face when he’ll see you wearing a Griezmann shirt,” she smirks.

We get down the stairs, and walk towards a bald man who seems to part of the staff. I prepare myself to plead my case but he’s quicker than me, looking at the yellow bracelets that Kylian send us we on our wrists.

“Miss Darian and Miss Honorin, right?”

“Yes,” my best friend answers.

“Follow me, please.”

We follow him on the pitch and then in a corridor. Suddenly, Louisa stops to go to the bathroom.

“I must ask you to wait them, they’ll be here soon. This is for you,” he hands me a badge.

“Thank you.”

I take the “Visitor” badge and wear it like a necklace. He bids me good night and leaves. Now alone, I feel like I must stretch my legs, and starts walking around the room. I’ve walked six times past the “Staff” door when I hear a voice coming another large corridor.

“There’s nothing to discuss here. We took that decision all together.”

It’s Paul Pogba, and he sounds very serious. Suddenly too curious for my own good, I lean on the wall and listen.

“But it’s not fair, dude.”

I recognize Emilien’s voice immediately.

“You’ve been saying that since earlier, we get it. That’s why we changed our plan. So that’s Antoine that will take care of it, end of the discussion. He earned it. Hye, don’t give me that face, bro, you’re the one that had the idea!” he adds, raising his voice which becomes cold. 

I hear someone coming, and then another voice.

“Chill, guys.” Kylian says.

“Aren’t you fucking pissed off by all of this?” Emilien asks.

“Yes, on the idea,” Kylian confesses. “But Grizou was picked, and he will succeed. We saw it yesterday.”

The steps are coming closer and I run to the other side of the corridor, faking waiting. I turn around innocently, and see Kylian.

“Hi,” I smile. “Congrats, it was awesome.”

“Thanks a lot,” he says, smiling back at me.

“And thank you for the flowers and the card. It was adorable.”

“Oh I’m glad you liked them. I didn’t really know which flowers to pick, so Olivier helped me out.”

At this moment, Louisa comes back. Damn, she was falling down the toilet or something?

“Hi! Good match, huh?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I was thanking Kylian for the flowers,” I tell her.

“Oh right, it was really nice from you.”

“My pleasure. All ladies deserve flowers. The guys must be all fresh now, ready to come into the circus?”

He gives us a smile and invites us to follow him into the corridor which he came from moments ago.

We enter the locker room, and I quickly pray not to see any butt. Thankfully, like Kylian said, they’re all dressed up. They turn towards us as one and I feel my face becoming paler.

“Good evening, ladies,” Didier Deschamps say, shaking my hand. “How are you?”

He shakes Louisa’s hand, and his assistant, Guy Stephan, come to say hello too.

“Come on, boys, be polite,” he tells the team as a teacher.

They all come to greet us with the bise (NDA: for those who don’t know it’s the French way to say hello or goodbye, it’s like you and the other person kiss each other’s cheek). Antoine comes among the last ones, right after Emilien. When his lips touch my cheek I get a little shock, and by the way he steps back, I can see he got one too.

“Sorry,” I say.

“No, that’s on me.”

He looks at me and give me a small, shy smile and then Paul, who is standing behind him, gets impatient.

“Hey, bro, are you are gonna move your ass or what?”

Everyone laughs, and Blaise Matuidi comes to the striker’s defense.

“Leave him alone, he’s just saying hi.”

But Antoine steps aside to let his friend come forward, and I surprised by the feeling of disappointment it creates inside of me. But I do my best not to show it, and greets Paul and then Hugo Lloris.

“Where is Benji?” asks the Captain to the group.

“Still in the showers, I think”, Raphaël answers. “When I came back here he just had finished showering.”

“Come, we’ll go see him,” Hugo tells him. “Olive?”

Olivier Giroud nods, raises from his seat and follows his friends.

“Lovely meeting you,” Hugo tells me with a smile before leaving the room.

Olivier and Raphaël waves at me and leave after him.

“So, did you like the match?” Guy Stephan asks Louisa and me.

“Yeah, it was awesome,” Louisa answers.

“Yes, and congrats on your victory,” I add. “Continue like that and the World Cup is coming straight to you guys.”

“You’re too nice,” Deschamps says.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to all of you last night,” I say. “I was…very busy.”

My eyes meet Antoine’s and I look at the ground.

“Nah, don’t worry,” Ousmane laughs. “We know Grizou and Kyky just couldn’t stop bothering you. They got no education whatsoever.”

“Bro, you’re the annoying one,” Kylian snaps, outraged. “Go sit your ass somewhere else. And you got no education, I swear to God-” 

Ousmane laughs again but doesn’t move. They all come to talk to us, ask questions and tell me they had a good time at the gala.

“It’s getting late,” I say, “We’re not gonna bothering you guys any longer.”

“What?” Louisa says, turning her head towards me.

“Oh, already?” says Samuel Umtiti, looking disappointed.

All around the room the guys look the same way. They look like kids, it’s cute.

“You can stay, there’s no problem, really” Steve Mandanda assures.

“It’s nice of you, maybe next time?” I say softly, grabbing Louisa’s arm.

“And Antoine who was so happy to see you again,” Paul teases.

“Well, he saw her, didn’t he?” Emilien snaps, his voice surprisingly cold. “And maybe the girls got things to do tomorrow, or maybe they work.”

“It’s true,” Louisa sighs.

“I’ll escort you two,” Antoine says.

I wave everyone goodbye, and we follow Antoine in the corridor we came in from, and until the stadium’s parking lot.

“Our number 7 is a true gentleman,” Louisa teases him.

“I wasn’t gonna let you walk alone in the night, he answers. “There might some psycho around here.”

“My car is right here,” I say, pointing at it. “Well, see you around.”

“See you two soon.”

Before I can breathe, he leans towards me, kisses my cheek and at the same time I feel a small paper in my hand. His lips are warm and his skin soft, and I feel a shiver through my body. He gives me a smile and walks away before I could think of the options I had. Pulling myself together, I grab my keys when I hear a voice in the night.

“Gabrielle?”

I raise my head and see Antoine, turned in our direction.

“Nice jersey.”

He gives me a grin and then walks towards the stadium, hands in his pockets. Louisa put hers on her hips and turns to me.

“Am I under an invisibly cloak or somethin’?”

“So, are you gonna send him a message or do I have to do it in your place?”

“Are you gonna leave me at some point or?” I snap. “Let me do my homework, I’ll think about it after.”

Louisa sighs, muttering some words I can’t understand, and goes inside our bathroom. Since we came back from the stadium last night, she won’t stop bugging me with Antoine and the message he put in my hand, were he wrote his phone number and two words: Call me. Of course I want to call him, but there’s no way I’m doing it now, otherwise he’s gonna get ideas. I finish my homework and send them to my teacher when Louisa comes back and sits on the couch. I let out a sigh and sits beside her.

“It’s not that I don’t want to call him,” I start. “But I call him as soon as the day after, he’s going to think I’m the type of girl who runs to him as soon as he calls me.”

Lou’ thinks for a minute and eventually nods.

“You ain’t wrong. But you can show him you’re not like that later. One advice, hun, call him this week, or he’ll think you’re not interested. And you are interested, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. But I only saw him twice.”

“But you two did talk at your gala, didn’t you?”

I never told Louisa what happened with Antoine at the gala – mostly because it’s probably me imagining things. I decide to do it now, and when I’m done telling her, she frowns.

“But I probably made it up in my mind,” I say quickly.

“Did you made you the fact that he leaned towards you and touched your hair?” she asks sarcastically with a smile.

“No,” I admit. “But the rest, yes.”

“Maybe you didn’t. If your mother hadn’t broke the charm, he probably would have given you one hell of a kiss,” she laughs.

“Not in front of everyone,” I retort. “When we’re not alone, he’s very different.”

“Because he’s with his friends,” she assures. “All dudes are like that. When you guys will know each other better and you’ll show him who’s in charge, I assure you his behavior will change.”

“Maybe.”

“But do try to see him before he and that click of his go to Russia for their business.”

She’s right. Once the team will be in Russia, it will be hard to…well, continue what hasn’t begun yet.”

“But I told Kylian I would go have a coffee with him,” I remind her. “What will he think if I see Antoine?”

“Oh it’s fine, it’s not like he asked you to marry him,” Louisa says, rolling her eyes. “He’ll get that you prefer Antoine. But if you really have a problem with that, I can handle the Kylian boy,” she adds with a teasing smile.

We both laugh but I know she’s half serious.

“But seriously, Gaby, don’t stress out,” she says seriously. “If something must happen between you and Griezmann, it will. If not, well it just won’t.”

I nod, knowing she’s right.

NEXT CHAPTER

Masterlist

Want to be tagged? Just use my Ask-Box!

[romanstheory]

so i'm sure you've seen rhea's latest pic with the suit 🥵 my request is, essentially, that ready is acting needy all night during the event, gently pulling the sleeve and not wanting to leave her side at all. so, after it. rhea's fed up cause she was being bratty and takes care of her

Of Course!

Warnings : Smut, Language, Choking

Word Count : 683

18 +

Rhea had been gone for a full month with work, and finally the day came that we could both be in the same city at the same. Rhea picks me up from our Air BnB and we ride to the show together. "Hi baby!" I say to her sporting a smile so big it made my cheeks hurt. "Hi love!" Rhea responds to me with a smirk. I just missed her so much, I know she has things to do once we get to the arena, but I want all of her attention. Rhea and I talked the entire ride, just catching up with little things that had happened between phone calls. She's always so busy that sometimes I feel like she doesn't have time for me, but I knew she was busy when I got with her.

We arrive at the Arena and head inside. "Now, you know that I have some things to do right? But after we can spend time together" Rhea says. "But I wanna be with YOU" I say grabbing her hand. "I know love, but I still have some work to do" Rhea responds. I huff and follow her to the set she's going to be shooting her promo at. The whole time she's shooting, I stand with my arms crossed. I can see her peering over at me, but never breaking character. Once she's done she shoots me a sharp look. I smile, and grab her hand as we walks down the hall and right outside Vince's office.

"Y/N I need you to act right PLEASE!" Rhea says. "I told you I want to be with you and only you tonight" I say stomping my foot like an angry toddler. "I came here to be with you not your coworkers". Rhea lets out a long loud sigh "Look Y/N I have work to do" Rhea says, this time more aggressive. I loved it when she shut down my bratty ways. "Act right!" She demands of me before knocking on Vince's door. I sit on the floor outside of the office, arms folded, lip poking out. All of the other superstars are walking passed, completely confused. Rhea walks out of the room, and looks at me with eyes that could kill. "Get the fuck up!" She demands, grabbing me by the arm and lifting me.

"You want to act so bratty, I'm going to punish you then" Rhea says practically dragging me down the hall. This is exactly what I wanted, and she always falls for it. We get to the dressing room and she slams the door behind us. "You now what to do" She barks at me. I slip my skirt up and take my panties off. I sit on the chair placed in front of the TV and spread my legs. Rhea walks over to me, grabbing my neck then placing two warm fingers inside of my tight vagina. "You never act like you're supposed to. Why are you never a good girl?" Rhea grumbles. I say nothing, I just look at her in awe. God she's even more sexy when she's angry with me. She twirls and curls her fingers, sending shivers down my spine.

She never loosens her grip on my neck while she explores me like it was her first time all over again. "Rhea I'm close!" I moan. She takes her hand out "Only good girls get to cum, bad girls cum when I want them to" She says planting a smooth kiss on my lips. She strokes and teases my now swollen clit with her finger, watching me squirm. "Please" I beg. "Well, since you asked nicely" Rhea smirks.

She puts her fingers back into my soaking vagina and strokes my G Spot this time faster than before. I can't control my moans or my body. I am filling with so much pleasure, and she knows it. "Go ahead love, finish" Rhea says with a devilish grin. That's all it took, the pleasure took over and I had the best orgasm. "Now, get your panties on and ACT RIGHT!" Rhea demands once more

[eddie-brock-tater-tot]

|Taking the night off| Johnny blaze x F! Reader.

Not my gifs clearly. Also why in the hell isn't there hardly any GIFS! of Nicholas cage in ghost rider? Hmm? Why? SHOW MY MAN SOME LOVE DAMN YOUS!

Warnings/disclaimers: Language. Short. Fluff. Kissy-kissy-smoochy-smoochy scene.

Set after the first ghost rider film.

One-shot Synopsis: Johnny takes the night off to spend with you.

Story below the cut:

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

The TV show playing on the television filled the room with some sort of noise, Otherwise the house would be silent as you snuggle on the couch boredly. You wished your boyfriend were here, But you knew that the city needed him more tonight. Ghost rider saving the innocent while punishing the sinners.

You sigh and lay on the couch, The blanket over you keeping you warm as you only wore one of Johnny's shirts that was way too big on you and a simple pair of undies.

While watching the TV show, You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Johnny's Yamaha VMAX pulling into the driveway. Sitting up and pulling the blanket off, You walk toward the living room window and pull the curtain back, Seeing your boyfriend clad in leather getting off his bike, Surprisingly not sporting his flaming skull look.

You sat back down on the couch with confusion, He was supposed to be saving the night, Not coming home. Not that you mind really.

You hear the door open and close, and before you know it Johnny walks into the living room with small grin. “Why an I not surprised to see you awake this late?” His words cause your eyes to flicker at the clock on the wall, 2am?

You shrug, “It's not that late, Besides I can't sleep without you” You pat the spot beside you on the couch prompting him to sit with you. Johnny chuckles and does so.

“Not that late? It's almost 3am hun, You need sleep” He coos while slinging a arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side, Kissing the crown of your head.

You smile up at him and wrap your arms around his neck, “Why are you home early? I thought the city needed ghost rider?”

Johnny cups your face in one hand and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. “There wasn't really anything exciting happening, Besides nothing the cops couldn't handle anyway” Johnny starts leaning in closer to your face, Wanting a kiss.

You smile teasingly at him and pull back, Causing him to pout. “Well since your home early, Why don't you go change into something more comfortable and cuddle with me?” You suggest while he takes in the sight of you fully now.

“Alright, I'll change into my usual night wear, Though I may skip putting a shirt on considering your wearing mine” He tugs at the hem of your/his shirt, A suggestive tone in his voice as he knew you were a sucker for him going around your shared home shirtless.

You roll your eyes at him, “You have more than one shirt Johnny, Now go change so we can cuddle!” You usher him, Making him stand up with a laugh.

“Fine, Fine don't be so bossy” He said before disappearing down the hall and into your shared bedroom to change.

It didn't take him long to return to the couch wearing his gray sleep pants and keeping his word, Not wearing a shirt. You look at him with a playful glare.

“What? This is how I'm most comfortable” He defends himself with a grin, “Now scoot over and stop being a blanket hog”

You smile at his teasing and do as he says, Making room for him on the couch. Once he sat down you drape the blanket over his lap and snuggle close into his side, Resting a palm against his bare chest while your head lays on his shoulder. Johnny wraps a arm around you and you both fall into a comfortable silence while watching your favorite show.

But of course Johnny always breaks the silence.

“Hey, I just remembered you didn't let me give you a proper kiss” He spoke with what sounded like disappointment.

You lift your head up to look at him, His baby blue eyes locked on your own [Y/E/C] eyes. Johnny once again, Cups your face with one hand, Stroking your cheek like previously. You melt into his gentle touch and lean your head further into his large hand.

“Well what are you waiting for?” You spoke quietly but still managed to teasingly say.

Johnny gives you a lopsided grin before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in languid kiss, It was slow yet deep as he would part away from your lips only to return back. Your hand on his chest slowly trails up, Finding purchase on the nape of his neck.

Johnny goes to deepen the kiss by swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, But you grin into the kiss and reluctantly pull away. You nearly laughed when he chased after you.

“I should have known you chose not to wear a shirt for a reason blaze, You sly dog” You say, Breathless from the kiss.

Johnny had a lopsided grin, Eyes still closed as he looked almost dazed by the kiss. “Worth a try wasn't it?” You giggle at his suggestive attempt and cuddle back into his side.

“Your gonna have to try harder blaze” You smile.

“Will a back massage whoo you?” Johnny asks, You can here the smile in his voice.

You contemplate on that on for awhile before looking back up at him.

“Perhaps?” You say and Johnny grins, standing up and scooping you from the couch causing you to squeal at his abrupt actions, Arms wrapping around his neck as he carried you bridal style.

“I'm gonna give you the best back massage in the world” Johnny said with a smirk, You giggle at him and shake your head.

“Is that so?” You say amused.

“Damn right” He soon makes it to your shared bedroom and closes the door with his foot.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[fruitcoops]

Hi, I love your blog so much! I recently got ankle lateral ligament reconstruction done, and as an athlete, it sucks so bad. I watched my basketball team play yesterday, and it felt really horrible to watch them lose by one point in overtime when I know I would have made a difference if I were on the court... I know you have lots of asks and prompts, but if you have the time and want to, could you possibly hurt me more than I’m already hurting with some angsty ankle injury stuff😩 like maybe Cap watching the Lions lose without him.

Thank you for all the awesome fics you write! Your blog is amazing!

Anon, this ask really struck a chord with me and I wanted to do it justice as best I could--going through a sports injury like that is the worst feeling in the world, and watching your teammates play without you just adds salt to the wound. Sending all the love and healing vibes your way, okay? Please keep me updated on how you're feeling if you feel comfortable <3

Combined with an ask for pre-Coops and Sirius' photo of Remus! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for canonical injury and mentioned scars (Remus)

Sirius felt a nudge at his arm and his irritation flared, but he did not take his eyes off the game. “Fucking hell,” he muttered as James missed yet another blatant pass. There’s three.

The next nudge was more insistent.

“What?” he snapped, sparing half a glance to his left and feeling his stomach swoop.

Remus raised his eyebrows and held the mouthguard out further. “Either put this in or unclench your jaw.”

You’re not my mother, Sirius almost snarked back, just to be even more of an asshole. He was cold from being at the rink without his gear, severely pissed off by the general bullshit happening on the ice, and the itch in the boot locked around his stupid fucked-up ankle was slowly driving him mad.

Remus offered the mouthguard again, and Sirius’ temper cooled by a few degrees at the soft encouragement on his face. Pretty, his brain supplied. He swallowed hard around his sudden dry mouth and shoved the plastic between his teeth, beating back the unruly emotions with a mental baseball bat. Nope. Not tonight. Focus on being angry.

Logan got distracted, and Finn paid the price as an enforcer slammed him against the boards; he bounced back immediately, but Sirius ground the mouthguard so hard it squeaked. “Tabarnak—”

“Come with me for a sec,” Remus said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the angry shouts of Lions fans.

Sirius shook his head. What he wouldn’t give to be in the heart of the fight, letting off some of the steam that had been building with no outlet for weeks. “Game’s not over.”

Remus pressed his lips together, but said nothing; Sirius’ throat constricted as he looked at the scoreboard. There may have been three full minutes left on the clock, but the Lions had already lost—unless they pulled a miracle out of their asses, this game would be a stain on their record. Or if they just let me play.

Sirius sighed through his nose. The urge had been growing stronger the longer he stayed cooped up and restless, banging at the walls of his brain and bringing headache after headache.

“Cap.” The hand on the back of his bicep was surprisingly gentle and he closed his eyes as Remus gave him a light tug. “Come on. We can at least be productive instead of sitting here and stewing.”

He smells nice. How does he always smell so nice? Sirius stood and followed Remus down the tunnel, not even bothering to force smiles for the people pounding on the glass partitions. Don’t focus on the game.

Focus on his shoulders, something close to his heart suggested. You like his shoulders.

He scrunched his nose up at the thought—if he dwelled on the smooth, strong curve of Remus’ upper back for any longer, he would start remembering the one time he saw them bare, covered in sweat with scars that shone like moonlight and—

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, snapping him back to reality. Sirius jumped and concern flickered over the golden planes of his face. “You’re twitchy tonight.”

“Just…” He made a vague, aborted motion toward the ice before continuing toward the PT room, though he did not miss the worried look Remus shot him. Fantastic, now I look like a dick and an idiot.

“What’s going on, Sirius?” The door clicked closed behind them and Remus leaned against it with his arms crossed loosely as Sirius limped over to the table and sat down, pulling the mouthguard out. He stared at the floor and the hunk of plastic—don’t think about how nice his voice sounds around your name. Don’t.

He shook his head; through the door, the sounds of the game were faint. “They’re better than this.”

“Yep.”

“They’re all going to be angry tomorrow, which makes them sloppy.”

“Probably.”

“Coach will be upset.”

“No question.”

“It’s the Badgers.”

Remus made a face. “I know, right?”

“They’re a good team, but—” He tightened his jaw again and looked away.

“But we’re better,” Remus finished for him.

“Yeah.” Silence fell between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Being quiet around Remus was never uncomfortable, and Sirius was pathetically grateful for every scrap of it he could get. “I—the game would be different if I was out there.”

“Would it?”

“It would.” He had been going over every mistake for two and a half hours, placing himself in like a chess piece to stop the missed passes, fumbled pucks, and thoughtless plays. “They need me with them.”

The paper crinkled as Remus sat down next to him, and every one of Sirius’ senses went on high alert. “They need to you get better,” he said simply, those caramel-apple eyes making Sirius’ knees go weak. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Of course,” he scoffed.

“Good.” There was no defensiveness or indignation in Remus’ voice—guilt snapped, a firecracker behind his teeth.

“Sorry.”

Remus smiled wryly. “When you’re around injured hockey players all day long, you get used to a little bit of bitchiness.”

“I’m not bitchy!” Sirius spluttered. The poorly-concealed amusement on Remus’ face made mortification heat his cheeks. “I’m not!”

“Uh-huh.” The note of smug disbelief should not have been as attractive as it was. “Alright, lay down.”

Sirius swore he heard a few crackling noises as his brain short-circuited. “Quoi?”

“I’m not kneeling on freezing linoleum to check out your ankle, Cinderella,” Remus snorted. “Now get a wiggle on.”

“You have the strangest sayings,” he said as he laid back and stretched his leg out, bewildered and yet somehow relieved.

“And you—” Remus pulled the top buckle free. “—have no appreciation for the great American north.”

“I can take it off,” Sirius mumbled, feeling redness rise once again.

He cocked an eyebrow. “The boot? I might not be a muscle-bound athlete, but I’m pretty sure I can manage a couple strips of Velcro.”

“No, it’s—doesn’t touching people’s feet freak you out? Like, the sweat and everything?”

“If it did, I’d have to find another profession, because I’m damp all the time from you fuckers and you all seem to have a habit of breaking things below the knee. Bend.”

Sirius complied, drawing his knee toward his chest. His bare foot looked weird in the bright lights, pale and still swollen, but Remus was as golden as ever. You can watch from afar, he conceded when the cute little furrow appeared on Remus’ forehead while he felt around the bone. Just for a little while. “Your hands are warm,” he said before he could stop himself.

Remus glanced up, and his small smile caused a flood of butterflies in Sirius’ stomach. “Thanks. They’re usually pretty cold, so I’m glad I’m not accidentally giving you foot hypothermia.”

“Is that real?”

“No,” Remus laughed. Sirius wished he could keep that sound forever. “How’s that feel?”

“Uh, fine.” He blinked a couple times to come back to himself as Remus put light pressure on the sole of his foot. “Still fine.”

“You’re a lot more flexible than before. Things are healing well.”

A loud buzzer went off outside—Sirius closed his eyes as disappointment and frustration fired up once more. The crowd wasn’t cheering. The windows weren’t shaking. He didn’t even want to look at the TV to check the score. I should be out there, he thought for the umpteenth time. I’m letting them down.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said quietly as he worked through a few more exercises.

“Not your fault.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

Sirius wanted to believe him. “I’m the captain.”

“And you’re being responsible by doing this with me so you can heal faster.” People rushed past the door outside, but the PT room remained peaceful. Sirius stared at the plain ceiling and wished for a miracle. “They miss you.”

“Y’know, that’s not exactly making me feel better.”

“Sorry.” They lapsed back into silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool.”

Sirius chewed the inside of his lip for a solid two minutes, following Remus’ simple instructions without looking at him. He should have been out there with them, ankle be damned. It was basically healed anyway; they were just tying up loose ends, and maybe Remus needed to be a little less careful. “Is this really necessary?”

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to ask a different question.”

“I’m just saying, it feels fine and—”

“Time’s up.” Remus let go of his foot and Sirius only spared a moment to mourn the loss of his comforting touch before he caught the stormy, mulish stubbornness that took the place of Remus’ concentration. “Sit.”

“I am.”

He narrowed his eyes, and Sirius dragged himself upright with a huff. Arguing with Remus Lupin was about as useful as arguing with a brick wall, and that was coming from someone who won the ‘Most Stubborn’ superlative at their last end-of-year party. “First of all, ankles are annoying and the soft tissue will still be damaged even if the bone is healed. Second, it’s my job to fix you up so your boys stop whining to me about healing you faster. And third, I’m not giving up on you.”

Sirius paused for a long moment. “What?”

“I’m not giving up,” Remus repeated. His jaw set and he made direct eye contact. “I would love nothing more than to kick Snape in the kneecaps and let you go out there as soon as you can stand on your own, but that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to make sure you’re ready to kick ass and take names no matter what that little shit was trying to do. So don’t you dare sit there and try to chicken out at the finish line, because I know you want this even more than I do.”

In his chest, Sirius heart was hammering like he had just run five miles. I’m not giving up on you. Sirius had never wanted to kiss him more. “Thank you.”

Remus softened with a slow breath. “We’re in this together, Sirius. You and me.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s get to work. Next time you play the Badgers, make ‘em regret this game.”

--------------------------------

Sirius walked back toward the locker room feeling rather nauseous. The whole team leaked their bad moods into the air—Arthur had barely looked at them before sending them home with a quiet “we’ll talk more tomorrow”, the equivalent of an arrow through Sirius’ heart. I need a pick-me-up, he thought as the rest of the guys trooped out in a melancholy raincloud. He fist-bumped each of them, per tradition, but their responses were weak at best.

Ice cream sounded good. Maybe a milkshake. Oh, who was he kidding, he needed a solid hug and something other than ice to look at. Not for the first time, he contemplated getting a dog, just so the house wouldn’t be empty and dark when he returned.

Laughter rang out ahead and Sirius inhaled sharply, letting the sound roll over him. “I’m not kidding!” Moody chuckled.

“Bullshit,” Remus countered, still snickering. “There is no way—”

“I’ve been around here longer than you’ve been alive, kid.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Remus groaned, though Sirius could hear the smile in his voice even from around the corner. “You only bring it up every goddamn day.”

“Brat.”

Sirius entered the room just in time to see Remus playfully knock the side of his foot against Moody’s; both were grinning. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

Moody nodded to him. “Night, twelve.”

“A demain,” Sirius called, offering a slight smile as his eyes lingered on Remus. He was leaning back against the wall with stick tape in his hands—his hands, which never failed to make Sirius throw caution to the wind—and raised it in farewell. “See you, Loops. Thanks again.”

“No problem, Cap.”

He grabbed his duffel off the floor and slid his keys, wallet, and phone into his pockets as Moody and Remus resumed their conversation. He wondered how long they usually stuck around, and if they would oppose him staying—he wouldn’t interrupt, but being around people who weren’t going through the five stages of grief already felt nice.

An idea struck as Remus’ laugh raised goosebumps on his arms once again. With a careful glance over his shoulder, he slipped his phone out and snapped a picture before hurrying off toward his car. His breaths were shallow; that was such a creepy move, and surely one of them noticed—

No voices chased him. Nobody gave him strange looks. He waited until he was safely in the front seat of the car before unlocking his phone, and all the air in his lungs left in a rush.

The photo was perfect. It caught the lopsided tilt to Remus’ mouth, his slender-but-strong fingers, his long legs, the scrunch of his nose mid-laugh. Everything Sirius never let himself look at for long. He didn’t have much space left among the collection of paper memories on his dresser, but maybe if he put it in the back where nobody would see it unless they knew where to look…

He turned the car on. Later. He would print it out and deal with the taut rubber-band-ball of feelings later. Until then, he could settle for the imprint of Remus’ warmth taking away the pain in his ankle and the determination on his face as he promised to bring Sirius back from the personal hell he was living in. You and me, he had said, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to believe it.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

                                   ********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

[mcwriting]

Just Friends

sooooo... I know I've said I don't write smut, but I will write *barely* sfw stuff if I'm in the mood :)

College AU because that's my current aesthetic lol. Not explicit but defo spicier than what I normally write

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 2078

Warnings: light language, alcohol consumption, implied (consensual) sex

✧

The music was loud with a deep bass, reverberating through your spine as you carried a half-drank solo cup of indiscriminate alcohol and red fruit punch.

"Tom. I'm not feeling it tonight," you basically yelled to your best friend, a proud member of the fraternity whose basement you were in. "This just doesn't hit like it used to."

You were both going into your senior year of college, having been friends ever since your freshman dorm rooms ended up right next to each others.

Now that you and your friends were all legal, going to the frathouse instead of a bar just seemed unnecessary. The only reason you were really there was because Tom and his best friend Harrison were officers and had to live in-house.

Tom had only had a couple beers within the past hour, trying to stay steady with you, though you weren't even experiencing a light buzz.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to lean down to your ear.

"Whadd'ya want to do then?" he asked.

"Can we just go back to my place? We've got some alcohol in the apartment," you answered. He nodded. "Let's go find Emily first, make sure she doesn't want a ride, too."

You both made your way around, finally seeing your roommate and Harrison making out in one corner of the room, one hand holding a red solo cup and the other cupping his face.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed her shoulder, pulling them apart.

"Heeeeyyy. What are you two up to?" she asked, turning around and pressing her back up against the blonde who then wrapped both arms around her stomach, resting a chin on her shoulder.

"We're gonna go drink at the apartment, " you called, trying to get her to hear over the music. "Do you want to go in the uber with us?"

She shook her head.

"Nah, I think I'll stay here if Haz is cool with it."

"You know I'm always cool with you staying over," he added, spinning her around.

"Okay, well then you two know the drill," you started, "if you even think about taking advantage of her I'll-"

"You'll cut my dick off," he finished, "yeah, yeah, I know. I would never, I swear."

Harrison put a hand over his heart for good measure.

Your stern look turned to a grin.

"Alright you two, stay safe and all that jazz. See you tomorrow."

You were waving bye when Emily called out behind you,

"Don't forget to use condoms!"

You blushed like mad, and Tom did, too.

You were just friends, after all. Only friends.

Both of you went through the rest of the house in silence, going outside to wait for your driver. You crossed your arms in frustration over your chest.

"I can't believe Emily would try to embarrass us like that! She knows we're just friends! Now that whole party thinks we left to hook up."

"Come on, y/n. The music was too loud. If anyone heard it was like two other people and they're freshman. Who cares what they think?"

You laughed at his response as he squeezed your side again, trying to get you to loosen up and smile again. You couldn't help but comply as the driver pulled up.

✧

Tom was hunched over looking through your fridge when you exited your bedroom, having already removed any makeup and changed into sweats.

He stood up when he heard you.

"What all do you want to- is that my shirt?"

You looked down, then shrugged.

"Huh. Guess so. You can have it back if you want it," you said, starting to pull up up over your sports bra when he stopped you.

"No, no. It's fine. Looks better on you anyways," he quipped, shutting the fridge door. You couldn't help but smile at that last comment as you pulled it back down. "Speaking of clothes of mine, do you still have my grey sweats?"

It wasn't long before he had changed as well, wearing the pants he'd left from the last time and one of your XL sweatshirts.

"Are you sure this sweatshirt isn't mine, too?" he asked, tugging on it.

"Since when do you wear oversized sweatshirts, Tom?"

He paused and looked up.

"Oh, right. Never. Thanks for washing these pants for me."

It wasn't a strange occurrence for Tom to spend the night at your apartment, usually to get out of the frat house every so often. He typically took the couch or your air mattress and kept some clothes in your closet.

He hit his hands together, then rubbed them.

"Now that we've got that out of the way. What shall we drink?"

You were originally just going to finish a bottle of wine as you watched "The Wedding Planner" together on the couch, but then Tom discovered the bottles of tequila and vodka in the freezer during the scene where Mary gets drunk.

"Come on, babe. We've gotta do at least one shot. It would be way more entertaining."

"I can't imagine that either of us needs to be drunk to find JLo and Matthew McConaughey entertaining, but fine," you replied, getting up to pull out the shot glasses from the cabinet.

"I shouldn't have told you to look for the ice cream," you lamented, causing him to laugh.

About 20 minutes after a shot each, you were both curled up on the couch together, the alcohol hitting as the story was beginning to wrap up.

You felt a little awkward watching the characters confess their love for each other as you were leaning on Tom's side, his arms caressing you.

But you were just friends, right?

Yeah, but your drunk brain couldn't ignore the flashing sign inside that seemed to scream "but you're also kinda into him!"

And it was right.

You'd had subtle feelings for him since probably sophomore year, after having playfully hated each other throughout freshman year.

You liked to blame that sentiment on the fact that your beds had been against the same wall and you could often hear each other doing just about everything.

"I just don't get how people weren't more mad at her going after an engaged man!" Tom said, snapping you from your thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. But I mean she did try to avoid him for a while, I guess," you replied, not quite slurring but your words coming out just a little but slow.

Tom switched on a random TV channel after credits started rolling and shifted a bit, still holding you tight.

"You doing okay?" he asked. You nodded.

"Yeah, I think I'm already coming down. You were kind of right, though. Drunk watching gave me a whole new perspective."

"Oh yeah? and what's that?"

You could feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke, making you close your eyes sleepily.

"Hmm. I'm not actually sure."

He laughed at your response and then you both fell into a comfortable silence, both of you relishing in each other's warmth.

After a little bit, you sat up, rubbing your eyes and stretching.

"You good?" he asked again.

"Yep, just gonna run to the bathroom real quick."

You stood up, taking slow steps. Your thoughts were no longer clouded but your coordination wasn't quite there yet.

By the time you returned, Tom had gotten you some water glasses and returned to the couch. This time, you laid down so you could rest your head in his lap and look at your phone as he stroked your hair.

After a while of scrolling through social media and showing Tom the occasional picture, you closed the phone and set it on your chest.

You looked up and Tom and wondered aloud,

"What do you think Em and Haz are up to now?"

"Is that really a question? Smashing."

You snorted.

"Gosh those two don't know how to keep their hands off of each other. I can't believe it took them so long to figure out they were into each other. 'Just friends' my ass."

Tom gave an awkward chuckle of his own.

"Hey, that's our line."

You could feel the tension in that response, not sure how to respond as you continued to study Tom's face.

"We should probably start getting ready for bed," he suggested. "I can start blowing up the air mattress if you wanna go brush your teeth and stuff."

You had sat up but stopped him.

"Wait... will you... do you want to just sleep in my bed tonight?"

"What? Then where will you sleep? On the couch?"

You were a little stunned at his oblivious answer.

"I- what? No. I meant... do you want to share the bed with me? It's plenty big for two people."

He eyes widened.

"Oh... oh! Okay I get it now. Uh, sure. As long as you're sure. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"Tom, I mean it. I want you to," you plead.

You were eventually getting ready to crawl into bed when you faced Tom, sitting back against the mattress.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked once again, making you grin. You reached up and pulled him into a hug.

"I promise, Tom. I really do."

You both pulled away just enough for your faces to be in front of each other, not even an inch apart. Your heart was racing, tension higher than ever between you.

It felt like forever staring at each other. You weren't really sure who moved first but suddenly your lips were crashing into each other's with a fiery passion, hands roaming each other's bodies for the first time like you were starved for touch.

Somehow you had flipped and made it onto the bed, you on top of Tom as you rode his leg.

It wasn't long before shirts were removed, too, and bare skin was against bare skin.

"Mmm... Where... um... condom?" Tom asked between kisses, both of you breathing heavily.

You paused and sat up, straddled over his hips, thinking. It had been a while since you'd needed one of those.

You slid off of him and went to the bathroom, reaching deep into the back of the sink cabinet, thankful to find that the box wasn't expired. When you stood up, you almost laughed at the way your face was flushed and hair unruly.

When you returned, Tom was sitting up looking at you, brows raised.

"So we really doing this?" he asked. You couldn't help but smile, thankful for his respectful nature.

"I am if you are."

It didn't take long to fall back onto the bed again, eventually tiring yourselves out and falling asleep pressed against one another.

✧

You walked out of your bedroom, hair still wet from a shower, looking to make some coffee.

As the first mug brewed, Emily came through the door.

"Oh, hey!" she looked around. "Did Tom head back already? I must've missed him. I guess he slept on the couch since I don't see the air mattress anywhere."

You were unsure of how to answer, pausing as you leaned back against the counter.

Once you finally figured out something to say, you were interrupted by Tom opening the bedroom door. His own hair was also still wet, and he held your bedsheets in a clump in his arms.

"Hey y/n do you want me to stick these in with any clothes or- oh hey Emily," he said, not registering the situation as he passed by her to put the bundle in the washing machine.

Emily, on the other hand, was standing frozen in shock. She looked at you, pointing towards Tom, then back at you, a hand then reaching up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my... I- did you two..?" her fingers wiggled back and forth between you two. You couldn't help but blush. "Holy shit, you did!"

Tom turned and walked to you with a maniacal grin, standing in front you as he reached past your body to grab the filled coffee cup.

"It's definitely possible," he answered her, leaning down to press a kiss on top of one of the hickeys he'd left on your neck.

"Finally! 'Just friends' my ass," she said, unknowingly paralleling your own comment about her. She was about to open her mouth again when you cut her off this time.

"Yes, Em. We used condoms. Now tell me if I've got any dicks to cut off."

✧

A/N: byeeee I don't know how to feel about this. On the one hand I'm pretty proud of it but also this is nothing like how I am as a person or how I usually write so I'm definitely out of my comfort zone here haha

Hope you all enjoyed though! If you did please leave a like or reply or something! I have more one shots similar to this in mind if anyone wants more like it!

Thanks for reading!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh