#i don’t know them at all just by name so I wanted to take my time to make research and make sure I get the right picture and the right boy

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Reading While Cockwarming Them

Warnings: MDNI, PIV, general sex, teasing, some name calling and sadism in Geto's part. A/n: Found an old WIP that I half wrote then gave up on because I couldn't find the inspiration. I'm glad I got back into it because I almost feel like my JJK writing has become rusty nowadays, and I'm thrilled to find some ideas that might still feel new.

The book is open on the bed, right under your pretty, flushed face as you kneel on all fours, Satoru’s cock nestled comfortably in your slick pussy. 

Your mouth is moving, and you see the little black characters on the page, but your speech is slurred and syrupy as you try to form intelligible sounds. 

“The…he-he-ro…isn…ways…to…”

“What’s that baby?” Satoru taunts as he slides out of your drooling cunt, all patience and sweet smiles. He feels how your walls clench in protest as you try to keep him in, his tip almost out of your tight, wet, hole.

“Toru please…” you whine, knowing his enticing length was right there, but he was getting off on seeing you swallow your words. Determination that had been ample in hand at the beginning of this session had now gone flying out the window. You just had to insist that Satoru couldn’t fuck you dumb with his cock, denying his claims, and now you’re forced to swallow your pride as you realize you can’t focus on a damn thing. The letters all look like squiggles to you and your tongue refuses to cooperate, only allowing you to pant and babble nonsense.

“You’re the one that said you would read me a bedtime story.” He arches his hips away from you as he feels you lift your ass, hoping to slip him back in. “And so far I can’t understand a word you’re saying. I’m hoping this helps.”

You moan in frustration and try to focus your hazed mind on the print. “The hero isn’t always right. As told in the story we’re about to embark on-” Your breath hitches as Satoru glides back into your warmth as you started to read. The hot length of his cock spreads you apart so invitingly messing with your head.

“Oh don’t feel like you have to stop on my account sweetheart. Keep going. Just testing how deep I need to go before you start going dumb again.” Not very deep based on his observations. He’s barely halfway sheathed and your speech had already become halting and incorrigible. He slips out slightly and you clear your throat trying to not to sob and admit defeat. 

“Our story takes place in a time of old and ooohhh…” The sensual groan leaves you unrestrained as he pushes further in.

“Hmm so about three fourths of the way,” Satoru muses, looking at how much of him was buried inside you. “Keep reading. Trying to fine tune this pussy. I was promised a bedtime story.”

He starts to thrust slowly, letting you feel each inch of him as he withdraws before sliding back in, never bottoming out and leaving you aching with the knowledge that you're only half full. You're not even trying to focus on the words now, just moaning and knowing you'll likely have to let him win if you wanted anything tonight. 

“Satoru please…” You whine as he starts to drag his fingers along your moist slit, finding your bud and circling it expertly. 

“Aw. No bedtime story for me tonight?” he asks mockingly as he draws out a moan from you. You shake your head and he grins triumphantly. “Next time then. We'll train your pussy to not disconnect from your brain.”

Kento can’t stand the thought of not having physical intimacy. Cockwarming was his way of reconnecting, of being able to touch you, feel your soft skin and the warmth of your body, even if he was too tired for sex. 

The bed is so inviting, and your back rests against his chest as his cock pulses with life inside you. Warm sheets are wrapped around your bodies as you sit on his thighs with a book on your lap. Kento's chin rests on your shoulder as you read, his eyes tracking the words as the story flows from your lips, his breath tickling your neck. The atmosphere in the room is almost balmy as his hands massage yours, fingers molding to the spaces in between. Your pussy occasionally clenches around his velvety cock, enjoying the way he filled and stretched the space inside. 

“Are you paying attention?” You tease and pat his cheek to draw his attention back to the story. His large hands had started to wander from yours and were flirting with your ribcage, cradling your breasts in his palms and squeezing enticingly. After a long day, the massage felt more relaxing than arousing and you indulge him for a moment before asking again. “Kento…the story.”

“I am paying attention darling. It looks like our protagonist accidentally discovered something he wasn’t supposed to.” He thumbs your nipples, which had already pebbled from the squeezing, through the sheets and you throw your head back onto his shoulder, biting your lip and letting out a hushed sigh. Your juices had steadily dripped from your core and were pooling at the base of his cock, leaving a ring of wetness on his hard shaft.

“Are you sleepy?” Kento’s lips ghost the shell of your ear and you mumble a tired yes. His chuckle resonates in your ear, deep and rich, and he takes the book away and places it on the nightstand. “It’s all right,” he reassures you as he starts to lay you both down on the bed. “We can find out what happens tomorrow.” He rearranges the sheets while you settle your head down comfortably on the pillow. Sleep overtakes you quickly but you can feel Kento pressing little kisses down your neck.

“Do you mind…?” He whispers, and your half-awake brain manages to slur a yes. You knew what he was asking, and you honestly didn’t mind. His snug cock thrusts ever so sweetly inside you as he tries not to rouse you too much from sleep, breathing steadily into your hair as he tries to orgasm.

The slick heat from being inside you for so long helps in his efforts, lazily stroking your inner walls at an unhurried pace. Your languid body barely stirs as he sets up a deliciously slow pace, quiet squelches issuing from your pussy as he rocks his hips against your ass. He bites his lip as he nears his climax, letting out a muffled groan as his hot cum is released into your warm canal. 

“Darling…focus…” His clever fingers which were playing with your pulsing clit halt, and his cock, snug in your pussy, remains there, barely providing any friction. You whine and look at him pleadingly but he tuts at you, waving the little study booklet in front of your face. “Can you repeat what I was saying?”

Why had you agreed to let him help you study for the bar? Your lawyer boyfriend, so sinfully handsome and smart, was obviously worried about your progress. He accused you of getting too distracted, and the solution was to force you to study with nothing but distractions, hoping to improve your recall abilities. 

What he hadn’t specified was that it would involve sitting on your bed with his cock stuffed in your pussy  while you straddled him, repeating little vocabulary definitions and basic terms of law. Your poor, sloppy, pussy couldn’t stop dribbling, spilling all over him, as you tried to recall the words.

He smirks at your hazy expression, seeing your mind trying to gather itself back into a cohesive state. “Well?” he prompts you again. “Can you explain the concept of intent for this?”

“Ah…” your mind is fuzzy as your walls clench around his cock, still hard inside you. How long had he been doing this? “Mmm…intent…matters because…” Because why? Why did it matter? All that mattered was fucking. Fucking him, riding him, getting filled to the brim with his seed. 

“Tsk. Oh honey. You're never going to pass the bar at this rate.” His hands firmly hook themselves underneath your fleshy thighs. “Now repeat after me.”

He begins to pick up your frame, easing you off his cock before loosening his hands and letting you fall back into his throbbing erection with force, your ass cheeks slapping his thighs as you slide down all the way to his base. 

"It. matters. because. The. Mental. state. Of. a. client. Affects. Our. Ability. To. Prove their. Innocence.”

Each word is punctuated with his hands picking you up and letting you slide, the sound of your ass pounding back into his lap echoing through the room. Each time, the bulbous, mushroom head of his cock kisses your cervix and you swear you're seeing stars each time. You sob each time, your cunt squelching as it takes him all the way in, desperate for an orgasm that wasn't likely to happen. 

“Hiro… Please… Need to cum… study later…”

“You'll never improve if you can't study through the distractions.” His eyes are hooded and dark, barely able to restrain himself from wanting to fuck your brains out until you're spilling all over his thighs. Oh the sight of you, struggling to remember basic words, thoughts too occupied with his cock to remember even the most basic concepts relating to your job. 

“Tell ya what. I'll give you a scenario. If you can explain intent based on that I'll give you an orgasm. How's that?”

You look at him hopefully, still shivering from the intensity of his last movements, and nod. 

“Explain the intent behind a young woman who invites her boyfriend over to help her study for the bar but decides to answer the door in just her underwear.”

Oh the bastard. Feeling your patience snap you admit your motive.

“Clearly she wanted to get fucked nice and good but her boyfriend is a naive moron who really thought she wanted to go over flashcards.” 

“You’ve got the flash part down spectacularly darling.” Hiromi fondles your nipples and you whine, your cunt clenching around him like a vice. 

“Hiro please…”

“I suppose I could count that as an acceptable answer. Nice work.” He spanks your ass in appreciation. “Admission of guilt always helps. Now show me how you plan to alleviate it.”

Your boyfriend was mean. You hadn’t really noticed it until just now. He was more of the type to tease you than anything else. Until you had suggested reading to him while sitting on his cock. 

For some reason, you had assumed he was going to be sweet about it. You hadn’t anticipated how hard he would make this for you. Your lips tremble and you’re a quivering mess as you hold up the book with shaky hands. Tears streak your cheeks as you try again, feeling Suguru’s thumb relentlessly playing with your clit, depriving you of just enough stimulation to keep you focused. 

“T-t-t-the for-forest i-is the…” You wet your lips trying to concentrate. “The fas-test way to the…hi-hi-hidden-”

“Too slow.” You squeal as Geto spanks your already swollen clit, the sting bringing back clarity to your senses. “I thought you were better than this. Are you so fucked out on my cock that you’re taking an hour to read a sentence?” The harsh slap of his hand on your wet folds makes them pulse and you squirm, and you close your legs to avoid the reprimand.

“Tsk. You really are a dumb whore right now.” A cry leaves your lips as he harshly pinches your nipple, twisting it cruelly. “Who told you to close your legs? You seemed pretty confident when spreading them open for me earlier.” Sniffing, you reluctantly part your legs and then let out a noise of discomfort as he slaps the little bud again. 

“Suguru…” you whimper pathetically only to have him roughly rub your clit again.

“Suguru.” He mimics in a high-pitched mocking tone. “What, you thought I would sit here all night while you take your sweet time? You haven’t even finished a page yet. Your cunt is going to be as empty as your brain if you don’t get it together.”

You whine and try again. “The solder…wanted to raid the amry… to get a sard- OUCH!” Suguru gave you a truly hard whack that sent you reeling, a confusing haze of pain and pleasure running through your body like an electric shock.

“What was that? Are you sure that’s even a word?” Slap. “Solder?” Slap. “Amry?” Slap. “Sard?” Slap. “The words are soldier, armory, and sword you stupid slut.” Each spank to your clit is punctuated with a yelp of pain from you. 

“Suguru! I’m sorry please-!” 

He pulls the book from your grip and tosses it aside. “This is why little whores shouldn’t try to brag about talents they don’t possess. Now why don’t you showcase the only real skill you have and cum on my cock like the desperate little cocksleeve you know you are?”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@aether-seawolf @makingtimemine @snwvie @facelessfionna

@theimmortalbuns @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh

@marusatonanhin @pwd54gr54 @brekkersgf

[dissapointu]

how about the arcane characters seeing their crush fight someone for the first time (and winning)? and like, they just didn't know how strong reader truly is?

OH SNAP. YOU’RE OUT HERE THROWING HANDS AND TAKING NAMES?? The Arcane crew would LOSE IT seeing you handle business for the first time—especially since they had no idea you were this strong. They’d be standing there like, “Wait… when did you become a total badass??”

Jinx

Jinx would be cheering you on like a maniac.

• The moment she sees you throwing punches, she’s SCREAMING. “GET ‘EM! GET ‘EM! THAT’S MY CRUSH!”

• She’s doing the chaotic Jinx laugh the whole time, completely hyped up by your energy.

• When you win, she’s sprinting up to you, grabbing your face, and grinning like, “That was AMAZING! You’re, like, a total beast! Why didn’t you TELL me??”

• Lowkey? She wants to see it again. “We should start a fight club or something. You’d crush it!”

Vi

Vi is SHOOK but also a little turned on, let’s be real.

• She’s watching you handle the fight, and her jaw just DROPS. “Damn, I didn’t know you had it in you…”

• She’s impressed as hell, crossing her arms and nodding as you take down your opponent like a pro.

• When you win, she saunters up to you all casual but can’t hide the smirk. “Not bad. You’ve been holding out on me, huh?”

• You’d catch her sneaking little proud glances at you for the rest of the day. “That’s my kinda person.”

Sevika

Sevika’s eyebrows are practically in her HAIRLINE watching you fight.

• She didn’t think you had it in you, so she’s just standing there, arms crossed, staring like, “Well, damn. Look at you go.”

• When you win, she’s all smug, leaning back and grinning. “Didn’t know you were such a badass. Guess I’ll have to start watching my back, huh?”

• She wouldn’t admit it, but seeing you fight earns you a TON of respect in her book. She’s definitely bringing it up later. “You know, not many people can throw a punch like that. I’m impressed.”

Silco

Silco is stunned but trying to act like he’s not.

• He’s watching the fight with a raised eyebrow, sipping his drink like, “Interesting.” But internally? He’s like, “Where have they been hiding this?”

• When you win, he calmly walks up to you, gives you an approving nod, and says something cryptic like, “You’re full of surprises. I admire that.”

• He’s definitely making mental notes about how you might be a bigger asset than he realized. But also? He’s secretly impressed by how you can handle yourself.

Vander

Vander is proud AND worried all at once.

• He’s watching you fight, hands on his hips, muttering stuff like, “Didn’t think they had that in ‘em… but damn, they’re good.”

• When you win, he walks up to you with the classic dad voice: “You alright? Didn’t know you could handle yourself like that. You really showed ‘em, though.”

• He’s proud as hell but makes you promise not to take unnecessary risks. “I know you’re strong, but don’t go looking for trouble, yeah?”

Ekko

Ekko is blown away and immediately HYPED.

• He’s watching you fight like, “Ohhh snap! Look at them GO!” He’s bouncing on his heels, ready to jump in if you need backup, but realizing… you don’t.

• When you win, he’s practically tackling you in excitement. “That was AMAZING! Since when were you such a badass??”

• He’s 100% bragging about you to the Firelights later. “My crush? Absolute legend. You should’ve seen them.”

Jayce

Jayce is equal parts surprised and impressed.

• He’s standing there with wide eyes, muttering, “Wait, when did they learn how to do THAT?”

• When you win, he’s immediately running over, grinning like a golden retriever. “That was insane! You’re incredible—how come you never told me you could fight like that?”

• He’s hyping you up for DAYS afterward. “No, seriously, did you see how they took that guy down? Absolute powerhouse.”

Viktor

Viktor is completely blindsided.

• He’s watching the fight like, “Wait… what is happening right now?” He’s genuinely shocked because he didn’t think you were the type to throw hands.

• When you win, he’s just staring at you in awe. “You… you didn’t even break a sweat. That was incredible.”

• He’d definitely be curious about how you learned to fight and want to hear all the details. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is lowkey AMAZED but trying to stay professional about it.

• She’s watching you fight, hands clasped behind her back, muttering under her breath like, “Impressive… very impressive.”

• When you win, she gives you a warm smile and says something like, “I always knew you were capable, but I didn’t realize you were THIS capable. Well done.”

• She’s super proud of you but probably a little worried you’ll get hurt next time. “Just… be careful, alright?”

Mel Medarda

Mel is intrigued and very, VERY impressed.

• She’s watching the fight with a small smile, sipping her wine like, “How fascinating.”

• When you win, she gracefully approaches you and says something smooth like, “You’ve been holding out on me. That was quite the performance.”

• She’s 100% filing this information away for later, already thinking about how your strength could come in handy.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is IMPRESSED beyond belief.

• She’s watching you fight with a smirk, nodding to herself like, “They’ve got potential.”

• When you win, she strides up to you and claps a hand on your shoulder. “You fight with skill—and heart. I respect that.”

• She’d probably want to spar with you later just to test your limits. “Let’s see what else you’re capable of.”

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger is both shocked and fascinated.

• He’s watching the fight with wide eyes, clutching his little staff like, “Oh dear, oh dear… they’re actually quite formidable!”

• When you win, he’s rushing over to check on you. “My word! That was… extraordinary. Are you alright?”

• He’d definitely want to know more about your skills. “Your technique is quite remarkable. Have you considered joining a combat academy?”

Salo

Salo is quietly impressed but not super showy about it.

• He’s watching you fight with a raised eyebrow, muttering under his breath like, “Huh. Didn’t see that coming.”

• When you win, he gives you a subtle nod and says something lowkey like, “Not bad. You’re tougher than you look.”

• He’s definitely rethinking everything he thought he knew about you.

Scar

Scar is losing his mind in the BEST way.

• He’s hyping you up the whole time, yelling stuff like, “GET ‘EM! That’s my crush right there!”

• When you win, he’s immediately running over, laughing and clapping you on the back. “That was EPIC! You’re my hero!”

• He’s bragging about you to literally everyone. “Yeah, my crush just took someone down like a pro. No big deal.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is floored but super proud.

• She’s watching you fight with wide eyes, quietly whispering, “Wow… they’re amazing.”

• When you win, she’s blushing and smiling as she walks over to you. “That was incredible. Are you always this strong?”

• She’d definitely admire you even more after seeing you hold your own like that.

Lest

Lest is completely captivated.

• She’s watching you fight with a mix of awe and concern, muttering to herself like, “They’re… really strong. I had no idea.”

• When you win, she’s rushing over to make sure you’re okay, brushing some imaginary dust off your shoulder. “That was amazing, but are you hurt? You’re incredible.”

• She’d probably be in awe of you for DAYS afterward. *“I can’t believe you did that. You’re amazing”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 17

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16

Eddie’s back to school on Tuesday, black eye turning a mottled sort of green, lip scabbed over. From where he’s hemmed in by Robin and Chrissy, Steve watches Eddie catch a glimpse of him and bolt the other way.

Jeff sighs, lets go of his hold on Chrissy’s arm, and says, “sorry, Steve. I’m just gonna—” and then he points toward Eddie and follows after him without another word.

Steve’s gut clenches with guilt. He’d put that look on Eddie’s face, had caused the rift in his and Jeff’s friendship, had split the forming group up with his ridiculous crush. But Chrissy and Robin are still here, standing by his side.

“Are he and Jeff okay?” Steve asks, biting his lip as he glances at Chrissy.

“I think so,” she says, looking after her boyfriend. “They talked on the phone, but Jeff didn’t tell me what about.”

“Forget about them,” Robin replies, reaching out to take his hand even as it makes everyone around them stare. “Come on, Stevie, or we’ll be late to Ms. Clickity Clack’s class.”

Steve passes the rest of the day in a daze, the spot at his side a revolving cast of Chrissy, Robin, and Jeff, like they’d all talked behind his back and decided he couldn’t be trusted with being alone right now. Steve can’t blame them because as soon as he’s left unattended in his big empty house, he gets out his notebook and pen, and begins to write.

   Eddie —

   I’m sorry I never got to read your last letter, but it wasn’t for me anyways. Maybe none of them were, not really. And I’m sorry about that, even sorrier about how your pretty face got caught in the ceasefire. I’m just full of sorries I’m to scared to tell to your face—from the way you ran when you saw me in the hallway this morning, maybe you wouldn’t want me to anyway.

   You’ve always been the brave one, so you must really want to not see me, huh? I hope you and Jeff are friends again. I’m sorry about that too, I’m the one who asked him not to tell you. I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.

   I don’t know how to stop wanting to right write to you. I can’t turn off the part of me that still wants to know everything about you. There’s a whole in my heart, and I keep trying to find people to fill it, but I can never be in love with someone who loves me back. You know?

   I’m sorry, Eddie. Maybe someday, I’ll get to say it to your face.

   Sorry,

   Steve

He closes the notebook on the damning words and shoves it into his nightstand so he doesn’t have to look at it. Sleep doesn’t come—the house is too quiet. He grabs the phone off his dresser and calls the only other person he knows whose parents trust them enough to have a phone in their bedroom.

“H’lo?” Robin mutters sleepily after finally picking up the phone six rings later.

She sounds tired—Steve’s sorry he woke her. “I wrote another letter,” he says.

That seems to perk her up instantly, as she hisses down the line, “Steven James Harrington.”

“Not my name, Robin Steven Bobbington,” he replies, talking right over her shrieked “well, that’s not mine!” to continue, “I’m not going to send it.”

“You better not,” she replies, and Steve can hear some rustling on her end, like she’s settling back down into her bed. He wishes, suddenly, that he was in there with her, clutching her hand as they fall asleep side by side. Instead, he lays down on his own bed and concentrates on the noises coming down the line.

“Is it stupid that I miss him?” he asks.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Robin!”

She laughs, a quiet sleepy chuckle that warms him straight through. “I’m just saying! He’s been treating you like shit, Stevie.”

Steve sighs, burrowing down under his comforter and taking the phone with him. “He was different in the letters,” he whispers, like someone in his empty house might hear him otherwise. “Sweeter, you know?”

Robin sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s enough sorries to go around for all of them, apparently. They’re quiet for a while, Robin’s breathing keeping him company in his big, lonely bed with his big, lonely thoughts.

“I love you, Robbie,” he whispers. “You know that, right?”

He’s been saying it a lot lately, throwing the words around like they’ll connect this time and get him something real. And they had, with Chrissy, with Robin, hell, even with Jeff. Just, not with Eddie. Maybe someday, he’ll learn to be okay with that.

“Love you, too, Dingus,” Robin replies, like it’s easy.

He falls asleep that night to the sound of Robin’s quiet snoring.

***

Eddie thinks about it—obsessively, compulsively. He dreams about it, jerks off about it, fucking cries about it. He reads the letters, again, and again, and again, wishing desperately that he still had that first one. At school, he checks his locker obsessively, compulsively, hoping there’s another note in his locker—there never is.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Gareth asks, an elbow into Eddie’s side.

“Ow, ribs!” Eddie cries, curling away from him and into Doug at their usual lunch table.

“Sorry!” Gareth replies, leaning away from him and raising his hands up like that’ll somehow prove he’s harmless.

Jeff snorts around his sandwich, “gotta be careful, Gare-bear. He’s precious cargo now.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie replies, rolling his eyes as the rest of Hellfire laugh around him.

“No, but seriously, dude,” Gareth asks, this time without the thrown elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Eddie looks across the cafeteria at Steve and Chrissy’s usual spots, still empty the way they have been for weeks. He worries, sometimes, that they’re not eating, and it’s his fault.

Hopefully, they’re just packing lunches from home and eating somewhere else (he’s been too afraid to check).

“Can’t tell you buddy,” Eddie replies, still looking at the empty spot like that’ll somehow make the duo appear. “I promised.”

Gareth, clearly having followed his line of sight, leans closer and asks in an unsubtle whisper, “but it’s about you know what?”

Doug sits on, oblivious, but Jeff snorts again and asks, “okay, you didn’t tell me jack shit, but you told the freshman?”

“Sophomore, jackass!” Gareth cries, before seeming to realize the implications of Jeff’s sentence. “You told Jeff?”

“I knew before you did,” Jeff says smugly, and Eddie’s starting to get pissed off about that again.

“How!”

“Jeff, dearest?” Eddie grits out. “Do you want me to punch you in the face?”

That shuts the table up catastrophically. But in the end, Jeff sighs and says, “I’m coming over after school,” and the rest of lunch is spent fielding Gareth’s indignant questions.

True to his word, Jeff climbs into Eddie’s passenger seat at the end of the day. Eddie doesn’t take them to the trailer, he just drives around, taking back roads round and round, restlessness making his fingers twitch in the gear shift.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the silence, in the end. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, making Eddie flinch at the sudden noise. “Steve just seemed so scared, and Chrissy was crying so—”

“He was scared?” Eddie interrupts, stuck on the thought. He’d known that, before, but now that Eddie’s afraid, too, it hits like a punch to the chest.

“Of course he was,” Eddie replies to his own question. Suddenly unable to focus, Eddie pulls over to the side of the road. “I’m scared, too.”

Jeff sucks in a breath; Eddie doesn’t look away from his own knees.

“Yeah?”

Eddie bites his lip, knowing that Jeff will be able to read between the lines. “Yeah.” His eyes are watering, and Eddie swipes at them, embarrassed. “And I know we’re supposed to be talking about us, but I just—”

“No, hey,” Jeff replies. Eddie hears the sound of his seatbelt unbuckling, and the rustle of him shifting in his seat, and suddenly, Jeff’s hand is clasping Eddie’s shoulder, shaking him around just a little. “You’re my best friend—we’re fine, dude.”

Eddie swipes at his eyes again, “I think I want to ask him out, but what if I’m wrong?” Eddie asks, tracking Jeff’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t want to hurt him again.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, voice deadpan. “You find out he likes you and suddenly he’s not just a jock anymore?”

Eddie looks down at his own knees, bracing for a hit he knows will never come. But, Eddie’s always been good at hurting himself, so he thinks about that yellow nail polish again, the enraptured look in Steve’s eyes during every D&D session, the way he’d glued himself to Robin Buckley, band nerd supreme’s side in recent weeks. The way he’d look at Eddie like he wasn’t the king of the freaks, like he was worth something.

“He was never just a jock,” Eddie murmurs. “I just never let myself think about it.”

Jeff mmmhmms him and Eddie knows him well enough to hear the doubt beneath the agreement.

“I was afraid, okay?” Eddie laments, scrunching his eyes closed tight until that makes his bruised eye ache too much. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At that, Jeff scoffs, and before Eddie can start up another tirade, he replies, “right, the black guy dating a white girl in Po-dunk, Indiana has no idea how scary it can be to make a move on the person you like.”

Okay, fair.

“You know what could happen if the wrong person finds out?” Jeff continues. “I’ll be lucky if they let me get out of town alive.”

“Okay, okay! I get it, sorry!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up in defeat. And Jeff, being the asshole he is, just laughs at his discomfort. “How’s that going anyway?”

“With Chrissy?” Jeff asks, continuing when Eddie nods. “She’s great, man. I really, really like her.”

He’s smiling all goofy and in love. Eddie waits for the jealousy to hit; it never comes. Even as he’d flirted with her, there’d always been a disconnect for him between the letters and the girl. He knows why, now.

“I’m happy for you.”

Jeff aims that same goofy smile at him and punches his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Eddie wants to feel that way about someone. He wants to think of them and smile like he just can’t help himself. And with Steve Harrington of all people, maybe he can.

“If I ask Steve out, do you think he’ll still say yes?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jeff replies without hesitation before he turns to Eddie and eyes him up and down. “But are you sure you want to?”

Eddie bites back the defensive retort rising on his tongue, and grits out, “what do you mean?”

Jeff sighs and leans back in his chair. Eddie waits, three seconds from snapping as he stews in Jeff’s silence, hands clenched so hard against the steering wheel that it feels like one of his nails might pop clean off. 

“Jeff–”

“No one’s ever liked you before!” Jeff cries, and it hits Eddie like a punch to the sternum. “And maybe it’s not fair of me to ask but, are you sure you even really like him?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his mind a record skipping against a bent needle. “What do you–”

“Eddie, man,” Jeff sighs, swiveling his head to finally look Eddie directly in the eyes. “Do you like Steve Harrington, or do you just like that he likes you?”

He drops the wheel, hands almost numb as he shakes them out, no longer able to meet Jeff’s eye. 

How would anyone ever know that for sure? How can he know the origin of a feeling when it’s been there, simmering in the background of his brain, just waiting for him to wake up? How can he separate the feeling for a person and the person’s feeling for them?

That’s like asking him to unbraid his hair, let it fall back together, and still be able to tell which strands made up each component of the braid–it can’t be done.

But, “Gareth said I was obsessed with him,” Eddie replies, barely above a whisper. “Like, before I knew he wrote the letters?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, but it’s just like Steve said–it sounds different when he doesn’t think it’s funny. “And, he was right, you know? I was flirting with Chrissy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Eddie runs a shaking hand through his hair and buries his face into his hands with a shudder. “He’s just–he’s Steve Harrington, right? Everyone knows everything about him, but then he just changes the script!” Eddie’s smiling now, manic, animated. “And I wanted to know everything.”

Eddie drops his hands to look over at Jeff, meeting his eyes once more. Jeff looks patient, ready, hopeful in a way he hadn’t before, so Eddie keeps talking.

“Like, Chrissy was flirting with you and he didn’t even seem to care, and the yellow nail polish, and he came to Hellfire, Jeff. Steve Harrington came and watched us play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I know,” Jeff replies, grinning now, pearly whites all on full display. 

“And when he came to band practice, he was just like, watching me, and I sort of wanted to die, but in a good way, you know?”

Jeff decidedly does not look like he knows, but he’s still grinning across at Eddie like he’s proud of him. Eddie’s kind of proud, too, that he’s managing to say all of this aloud. It feels somehow new and a long time coming at the same time. 

“Okay, you can ask him out,” Jeff says, turning forward in his seat and buckling his seatbelt once more. 

Eddie laughs. “Oh, because I needed your blessing?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies, grinning as he turns back to Eddie, looking him up and down like he’s a slab of meat Jeff’s checking for its quality. “Maybe wait until you’re healed up, though. You look like one of those cardboard box kittens that I keep seeing on the news.”

“Shut up!” Eddie squawks, but he’s smiling, helplessly, hopefully.

Eddie Munson with a chance at love, who would’ve thought?

[emmyrosee]

SAKUSA ANGST??????❤️

By the time Kiyoomi gets to home, the moon is halfway past the skyline and high in space, and the bright light trickles through the blinds, carving your disappointed features while Kiyoomi jumps at the sight of you, standing firmly in the living room.

"Jeez," he snickers, putting his keys on the counter. "You scared me, baby, what're you doing up-"

"I know, Kiyoomi."

His brows furrow in confusion, but behind his dark pools, you see shame. And his eyes always gave him away. “What? What’re you talking about?”

You blink lazily, “I saw Hinata. You weren’t with him. Told me you never even texted him.” You shake your head, “if you’re going to commit adultery, make sure you have all your bases covered.”

He stays silent for a moment, letting his eyes cast down and avoiding your judgmental, hurt gaze. A hand comes up to scratch the back of his head, pick at a hangnail, jam into his pockets, anything and everything to not meet your betrayed looks.

“How long?”

“Baby, I-“

“Do not pull that manipulative shit on me,” you say exhaustedly. “Don’t start with that nonsense. I want to know how long. And I want to know who.”

He finally meets your eyes, “I made a mistake-“

“No no. New couples make mistakes,” you snap, hoping that by yelling out your frustrations you won’t cry the hot tears swelling in your waterline. “We’ve been together three years, you don’t get to make those kinds of mistakes, you don’t get to tell me not to worry about one person, then cheat on me.”

When he slowly lowers his hands, guilt struck in his gaze, you feel bile rising up your throat.

“It’s… your PR manager. Isn’t it?” You chuckle. “Your “work babe”? The one you assured me was over and done with?”

“No no, you’ve got to listen to me-“

“After I specifically begged you to tell me it wasn’t true, after you assured me nothing funny was going down, after you told me you’d gone to their house to fire them-“

He looks away. Darts his eyes again. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, “oh my god… you… went there to be with them- YOU WENT THERE TO BE WITH THEM WHILE I WAS HOME? WAILING OVER YOU?!”

He says nothing to defend himself, and you scream and jump up and out of your seat, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him with it. He shields himself with his arms, ducking slightly from your swings, but he doesn’t say anything. Nothing to change your mind, sway your thinking or deny, deny, deny anything.

“You lied to me!” You sob, finally losing your composure. “You lied square to my face, for what! For THEM?!”

“Baby, listen-“

“DONT FUCKING CALL ME THAT, SAKUSA!” You shriek, throwing the pillow down and meeting his teary eyes with your enraged ones. “Don’t FUCKING start with me!”

He calls your name in an attempt to calm you down, extending his arms to create distance, “it was a mistake, I made mistakes.”

“And that’s a crock of shit.”

“I thought I was missing something, and I thought they could give it to me! Honest! It meant nothing, just meaningless dates and kisses to try and fill something inside that I needed, and-

“You are not helping yourself right now, Sakusa,” you pant.

“I wanted to leave them, I swear on my mother-“

“And you couldn’t manage to do that.”

“So now what?” He chokes. “So-So-So are we just done? Three years just gone?”

“Because of you.”

“I’m not going to let this happen,” he sobs, collapsing to his knees and wrapping his arms around your legs. “Please, don’t leave me. I’ll fire them. You can go with me.”

“Clearly firing them isn’t going to make a difference,” you snarl. “Since your tongues been down their throat and god knows what else.” You shake him off your legs and continue to look down at him in distain, “I’ll have the boys send for my things. I’m staying with Osamu. Do not contact me anymore.” You shake him off your legs, and he looks up at you like a kicked dog.

“No-“

“Yeah, you don’t get to say no, anymore,” you snap. “Since clearly you had a hard enough time doing it for them. I’m taking control of the situation now. You will never make a fool out of me again.”

“Please,” he begs, “I hated it, I hated all of it, I-“

“Stop lying, Kiyoomi,” you shake your head. “It’s not worth it. You’re not going to sway me.”

At that, Kiyoomi stops. His eyes blink a line of tears down, his hands rest in his lap, and his bottom lip trembles. You take a deep breath, “please let Osamu in when he comes for my belongings.”

He says nothing. He merely continues to stare up at you desperately, pleadingly, and you scoff before making your way down the hall to grab your packed bag. “Unreal,” you hiss. “You are unbelievable.”

“You don’t have to leave,” he chokes. “You can stay here, I’ll leave, I’ll go to Bokuto’s, he’ll-“

“He’ll let you in and stay with him after you have the nerve to cheat on me?” You scoff. “Bokuto is not an idiot. He’s not going to just ignore the shitty things you do because you’re his teammate.”

Kiyoomi knows that if you walk through that door, you’ll never come back. You know it’s tearing him up inside, you see it in his exhausted features and you know it in your soul.

Good.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.

Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and it’s a Thursday, so that means a few things. It’s wine night, the biggest thing. It’s wine night, at Hen and Karen’s, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddie’s got several hours of alcohol in him. It’s 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so it’s a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if it’s just a drunken coincidence.

“Hello,” Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but he’s only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. “Hello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?”

Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. “Did indeed. You still at the Wilsons?”

“Did you, uh- was there fire?” Eddie sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.

“No fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.” I missed you probably isn’t fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovan’s sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? “Hope you had a better time.”

“Great time,” Eddie says, enthusiastic. “They had, uh, mini quiches.”

Buck grins at the empty room. “You’re a man who loves a mini quiche.”

A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. “The- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, there’s spinach? Can we go to Costco?”

“Sure,” Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. “Could use a grocery run.”

“And get the, get more quiches?”

Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. “Yeah, Eds, we’ll get more quiches.”

“And you’ll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?”

Buck laughs. “The spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, they’re just, like, warm and eggy.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says, doubtfully. “It’s not nice to lie, Buckley.”

“I’m not fucking lying,” Buck cackles. “Your spinach hatred is so unfair, what’d it ever do to you?”

“Taste bad,” Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. “It’s like- like- it’s gross, I don’t believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.”

Buck snorts. “Man, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.”

“And I don’t feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,” Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.

“Whatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.”

“You’re so mean. I’m not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.” Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. “That’s not even what I called about. That’s not even-“ Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buck’s ear. “I called to tell you that I love you.”

Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. He’d wondered just how much wine they’d got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. “Aw, love you too, bud.”

“No,” Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. “Buck. Listen. I’m in love with you.”

Oh. God. Oh god. “Uh-“ Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, “Uh- I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having while you’re-“

“Oh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. It’s fine.”

“Eddie-”

“Buck,” Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew you’d- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. It’s stupid that I’ve never, like, I never just say this all the time. You’re, like-”

Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits — sort of fearfully — for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karen’s wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.

But: “You’re tall and you’re in my house,” Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.

“I’m-” Buck glances around the loft. “Eds, I’m at my place.”

“What?” He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. “Why?”

“‘Cause I live here?”

“That’s stupid. You should live with me in my house.”

“Should I?” Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. “Also, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?”

Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. “If you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because you’re already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.”

“Never have to go anywhere?” Buck thinks he’s in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something that’s always easy to fall into. “I don’t have a job in this scenario?”

“Well you’d go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.”

“I’d like to come back to you all the time,” Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. “Eddie-“

“And you’re tall because… it matters because you’re tall because…” Eddie’s voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karen’s house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure he’s warm. “I never had to look up at anybody before.”

“I’ve got like two inches on you,” Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.

“It’s a big two inches,” Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, “That's- Sorry- that's what she said.”

“That's-” Buck snorts. “What-” and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till he’s breathless, listening to Eddie’s responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I scored better on my certification exams than you.”

“That’s not even true!” Buck protests over Eddie’s continuing laughter. “Only in two categories!”

“Overall percentage was higher!” Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.

“Well, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and that’s written down on official paper somewhere.”

“Not fair,” Eddie says, as he always says. “You- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.”

“I think you’re overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.”

“It wasn’t a decade when you took the tests,” Eddie points out. “Whatever. Nevermind. And I don’t want to sound like- you’re good at remembering things. You’re not stupid. I don’t want to sound like you are.”

Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. “I know. You’re not either.”

“I know,” Eddie says, soft again. “But your hands are big, and… you’ve got stubble sometimes, and…” he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. “Buck,” Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. “I have.”

“What's it like?”

Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys he’d made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room he’d crashed in with Connor in Peru, with it’s one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. He’s still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadn’t shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way they’d pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and it’s almost a surprise that he’s still in the loft. That he’s not at Eddie’s house. All the time in the world there wouldn’t be enough. “It’s good, Eddie. It feels good.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, shivery.

“I want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,” Buck says, repeats. “I’ll kiss you, if you want.”

“Buck-”

“I’ll love you, if you want.” Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? “I’ll love you back. I love you back. I’ll eat all the spinach quiches for you.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know what expression is on his face, doesn’t know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: “It’s late.”

Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. “Yeah.” His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and that’s fine. Buck will —somehow, skin of his teeth — find a way to be fine with that.

But: “I want to go home,” Eddie says. “Buck. Come and take me home.”

“And then-”

“And then stay.”

“Okay,” Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddie’s house has food. His home has things to eat.

“Okay,” Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. “I’ll see you soon.

“Minutes,” Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. “I’ll be there in minutes.”

“Minutes,” Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.

[willowed-wisp]

NSFW ALPHABET [ simon ‘ghost’ riley]

Just my opinion based on how Simon comes across in the games. It was quite fun to interpret it. Hope I didn’t do too bad of a job 🤞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ghost would be more closed off to a one night stand, so it’s lucky if you even get his name let alone for him to stay after the sex.

As for in a relationship, he cares so deeply that if he’s jackhammered you he’ll find himself gently massaging your sore pussy- you did take him ‘so well’ after all (his words)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He used to hate his arms, all the scars he had endured but he paid good, well earned money on his sleeve tattoos. And with encouragement from his partner- he likes them.

As for you, your face. He rarely gets to see all of his own, so seeing your face in any sense is a blessing. For intimacy it’s a luxury to see your brows screw up and lips parted. He knows you don’t have the same benefit of seeing his ALL the time.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes the idea of claiming you by coming inside but the idea of children in a world like this… it scares him. Even if you’re on birth control… too much of a risk.

Simon loves seeing you on your knees, lips pink and raw after finishing down your throat. And you better be swallowing- he doesn’t like tryna get stains out of the bedsheets.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to fuck you in close quarters to the rest of 141, and use his balaclava as a gag to shut you up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Simon is said to be in his earlier to mid-30s and doesn’t have as much experience as the others but you’ve never complained about his skill before. He’s a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ADVANCED MISSIONARY; As said before, he loves your face. So something front facing but spicier than missionary- legs on his shoulders… laid flat on the edge of the kitchen table with him stood ploughing into you.

AGAINST THE WALL: Simon loves knowing it’s all him giving you pleasure- you clung to him for dear life. Nails cutting into him and limp from the waist down, he’s not shy when it comes to pain… not that kind anyway.

DOGGY: The only exception to him not facing you is when you’ve been teasing him all day long. He loves the roughness and how much of you he can feel at that angle. Intoxicating.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simon goes Ghost mode during sex. It’s a scale of kinda serious to don’t talk kind of serious. Depends on how long he’s gone without it. If he’s on leave and it’s on the couch during movie night and you clash teeth- he’s so serious about it but when you start laughing, his eyes go puppy dog and he joins you in hysterics.

He can be very goofy so he has that side when his guard is down.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He likes to keep in tidy down there, not completely shaven but nothing to stop you from giving him sloppy head.

He has light eyelashes but the hair is so short you can barely see the true colour - a blondish brown colour.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like most things with Simon, he truly depends on what mood you catch him in. He’s a chill guy, he’s the type to get you gifts without making a big deal about it.

He just wants your sole undivided attention, that’s romance in his eyes. Having a connection with you, spending time with you. So he’s kissing up your body, and eating you out like there’s no tomorrow without expecting you to return the favour.

Simon is all about eye contact, kissing and making you feel special in the moment. So I guess you could call him a pinch romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Being away from you is a death sentence, but the mission is work. That doesn’t mean LT doesn’t jack off, to images of you riding him or panting beneath him, when he’s in the shower.

Off duty he has you, he doesn’t need to jack off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BONDAGE: Hands behind your back, tied with his belt. Or he doesn’t mind, he knows how to break out of ties anyway.

VOYEURISM: Loves watching you masturbate, revels in it because he knows he’ll have you coming on his cock in the next few minutes.

DOMINANCE: Not in an unhealthy way, he’s a BIG guy (and he uses it to his advantage). Caging you in and hitching you up at his waist, repeating the words, “Who do you belong to?” “Who makes you feel so good?”

And the answer every single time is ‘you, Si.’

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nowhere public, there’s a reason he wears a mask in public let alone being caught with his dick out.

His favourite may be a wall, especially if Soap is staying in the guest room… because the master bedroom is beside it. Ghost is territorial like that, you’re his.

The bed is too comfortable for him when he’s initially back. Simon will hold your hips and watch you bounce on his dick while his back is on the fluffy carpet. Carpet burns were worth it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kissing his tattoos- man this guy gets pent up when you do that. All the way up his arm, through to his chest. Do this and you will find his trousers tented and tight.

Ghost is very susceptible to touch, he spends so much time trying not to get hit by stray bullets or by fists that when he lets his guard down- he really gets turned on by crotch palming or kissing. Makeout sessions quickly become a night long sex fest.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hates being blindfolded, absolutely despises it. Even when relaxed it’s difficult for Ghost to just be Simon. He likes being able to see you, his PTSD comes in play there.

Also, another no no, is you wearing a skull mask or himself wearing it in the bedroom. When he’s at home, he doesn’t even want to remember what happened in the field. Let alone bring it into the most vulnerable position he’s gonna be in. He may even draw the line at face coverings in general.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As said before, he couldn’t care less if he receives. Only that he makes you cum at least once.

Don’t mistake that for him not liking blowjobs, he loves it- again, a touch thing but he would rather watching you come undone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Like a lot of things with Simon, it depends on his mood and it you can handle it at the time.

Simon is a kinda soft dom because he cares about his significant other and doesn’t want to hurt you but if you can take it… you’d better find something to hold onto. Legs and abdominal muscles galore- he is a tyrant if you wish it.

But he doesn’t need to do that ALL the time, he can do soft and gentle just as well. Deep, powerful thrusts… letting you adjust after a couple of rounds.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If you’ve been teasing him, he will pull you into a restroom and have you drooling and seeing stars.

He prefers to have his time with you, to get you well adjusted for his size by fingering and then eating you out. Dragging out orgasm after orgasm to get you to relax.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He doesn’t normally like fucking in public, but as said before- if you touch him in the right places and tell him how hot you are for him… let’s say he will find a dressing room or bathroom stall (within reason) to stop his hardness.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Have you seen this man? 6’5” and muscles for days… Simon has a LOT of stamina.

The first week he gets home you’re lucky when he’s not inside of you. He can go multiple times a day for an average of two hour sessions. He likes to take his time with you.

Quickies wise about 6 rounds in a row.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Simon’s not a fan of toys. Doesn’t own any and doesn’t plan on buying. He’s sure in his abilities and when you a moaning mess impaled on his cock- he’d say you’re quite satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Edges you from time to time and make you beg for some release. But that’s only when he’s in one of his sarcastic moods- mostly after he’s hung out with Soap.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not obnoxiously loud, but not quiet. His voices get a bit higher or goes lower when he says your name. Holding your hair while you’re on your knees, choking on his cock. It’s kind of addictive.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Your smell. Purposefully buries his nose in the crux of your shoulder in general. Especially when so close to his release- you’ve been squeezing his size continuously for the past five minutes and the scent of you, not your perfume or shampoo, can toss him off that cliff.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Above average at about 7.5 inches, but thick. No wonder he indulges in extensive foreplay before fucking you. He’s the perfect size, nothing too extreme but hits the correct spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s touch starved on missions and doesn’t fancy asking the boys for that, so he’s pretty horny. You don’t help dressing all pretty in white lingerie the day he gets back.

On a scale of 0-10, Simon is an 8-10.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Simon finds it difficult to sleep in general, only after a day’s fuck fest is he worn out enough to sleep soundly. Next to his partner.

[grapejuicestyless]

Haunted By The Look In My Eyes

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: After a near death experience while on an adventure Y/n and JJ were supposed to be sat on the bench for, tension builds between the Pogues until finally, JJ’s reckless attitude meets Y/n’s intense feelings that can only be compared to the hopelessness JJ once felt himself.

“Guess it’s just you and me.” I rolled my eyes, the coolness from the surface of the metal shipment container doing nothing to cool down the sweltering heat that danced through the air within the four walls. Boxes of random assortments of various items plastered in rotting wood and wrapped thickly in plastic wrap.

Water clung to everything, beading down my forehead in thick droplets of sweat, the salty liquid tasting on my tongue with each swipe of it over my cracking lips. I swore if I ever had the curse of being sent to hell, this was it. This was the fiery depths of heat people spoke about, I was sure of it.

JJ was glistening too, though, he seemed used to it. Growing up with no temperature regulations in the unforgiving summer heat seems to have made him less uncomfortable by the thickness in the air, I hadn’t been lucky enough to adapt over time.

I watched him slide down against the floor, trying to get as low as possible. Heat does rise, after all. I sat opposite of him. Climbing on the crates of junk and cringing at the insufferable squeaking sounds that I could only ever compare to nails on chalkboard. I sat as close to the small opening in the container as possible without making myself known to anyone walking outside. The risk was worth it for the cool breeze of the ocean, even for just a moment.

But just as I close my eyes, swaying and praying that the heat will die down, the blond speaks.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. When all this is over, and we’re just rolling in the dough…I’m gonna get a new board and I’m gonna deck it out. And I’m gonna go on a surf trip.” His head leaned back against the crate behind him, his hair sticking to the back of his neck and his once wildly untamed hair clumping together in a wet mess.

I gave him a look, leaning forward on my palms and smiling at him, I let my eyes wander around the container.

“I don’t know where, but like, the worlds callin’.” He smiled, dissociating for a second and letting his smile fade. Slipping away for only a moment. “I don’t…name a place.” He was back, the same toothy grin as before, the same glistening shine in his blue eyes.

I thought for a second, blowing air through my lips.

“Spain.” I nodded my head.

“Then, after Spain…South America or South Africa, you know-“

“You’re gonna go to South Africa?” I interrupted with a teasing smile, partially shocked that JJ ever wanted to go away so far.

“Or one of the south places.” He defended himself. “A-and then Micronesia maybe. And then, just ride…wherever the wave takes you.” He looked down at his ring clad hands, twisting them nervously like he might have doubts that his dreams were stupid, unachievable.

I smiled at him even when he wasn’t looking because I believed everything he said. I knew that one day, he would go out just like he said and catch the best swells around the globe.

“Y’know?” He looked up finally, catching my grin.

“So that’s the plan—if we were to get a ton of cash?” I asked, looking away from him again. “That’s the dream?” I said it like a question, though, really I was agreeing with everything he said. It sounded like a dream. “Surf trip.”

“Bamboo hut…cooking a fish on a fire and…after that you go back out and just hit the waves again.” He moved his hands wildly as he spoke, building his dream in his mind with just the wiggling of his fingers. I rolled my eyes playfully.

“That’s the dream.” He confirmed, his voice lowering slightly, and I knew he was serious.

“Sounds perfect.” I agreed softly.

“Yeah.”

“Got room for one more?” I shrugged, asking honestly despite the light smile on my face. JJ simply laughed, smiling and looking back up from his lap to meet my eyes. I watched how his smile dropped when he saw how serious I was.

“You got your passport?” He asked, and it made me laugh this time.

“You don’t got a passport.” I teased.

“Hell no I don’t got a passport! The Kookiest thing ever.” He smiled, and I felt myself laughing from my stomach. A real, happy laugh that I hadn’t felt bubbling up since I was a little girl. Since before all the guns and allegations, and prison sentences, and near death experiences.

Sometimes I wondered what I would think of JJ, if I didn’t know him. Sometimes, I feared that if I had been born on the other side of the island, if my parents could afford a nicer house, if I lived just nearly two neighborhoods over, would I be just like everyone else?

Would I have thought of him as just another Maybank? Surely, if told his dreams to Topper or Kelce, they’d laugh and call him nothing greater than his old man. I thought he was a great deal more than Luke ever was, but would I think that if I had more money in my pocket?

I decided that I would, because the look in his eyes told me I would have. They were blue, sure, but they were the most trusting, truest eyes I’d ever seen. Maybe that’s why he knew he was a good liar, because he had the doe eyes down, but he couldn’t fool me any more than he could fool John B, Kiara, or Pope.

JJ Maybank had been the center of my universe since he had dropped down right front and center of me, since he had wandered into my life and claimed that we were to be best friends forever without leaving any room for argument.

I knew that I would have found him in any life. Because I know JJ Maybank better than anyone ever has, and he knows me more than I know myself.

When he sighed and fought against the “B-Team” I faked my offense, because though I knew he was itching for action, we’d get to share a tender moment like this together, just locked up in a hot box with no room the breathe and no wind to cool us down.

I craved our conversations like he craved the chaos, and I clawed my way into his heart because since the moment I met him I understood how special he was to me. He’s so, undeniably special.

“The Kookiest.” I agreed softly, letting my head fall back and my eyes close again, content with the feeling of my beating heart racing for him.

Maybe being the B-Team wasn’t the worst, because then the only worry was trying to maintain a steady temperature and keep myself from swaying my way to the floor. Heat stroke seemed a lot less scary than this.

JJ quieted me down, though, I hadn’t said a word, and his pointer pressing against his lips reminded me that maybe he shouldn’t be leading us around the boat, completely exposed to danger, and so I snuck around him and squeeze through the thin passageway, ignoring his whisper-shouting protests.

Our bodied pressed flat against the side of the upper deck walls, my head stretched around the corner to view the empty deck ahead of us.

“Clear?” He asked softly, and I nodded my head quickly.

We ran on our toes, walking light on our feet to avoid the loud slapping of boots against metal. JJ fell behind me slightly as he spun around, paranoid of the potential of someone following behind.

“Jay, come on.” I mumbled desperately, feeling the stress falling down on me.

We turned the corner quickly, JJ turning to look over the railing for John B on a lifeboat, our getaway car, only to be met with open water. Our breathing echoed between our ears, neither of us heard the harsh slapping of extra feet plowing down the stairs ahead.

“I don’t see them.” He announced, all too loudly.

I froze in the presence of a taller man with untamed hair and scruffy facial hair.

“JJ…” I warned, squaring my shoulders off as he stepped in line with me. No one made any movement for a split moment.

“Jayj…” I said a little more desperately as the man unsheathed his machete, only drawing JJ’s in closer, a fein for danger, and a junkie for risk.

“Of course…” The man began to speak, his brows furrowing. “There’s more of you.”

JJ and I shared a look, our faced contorted in an unspoken agreement that we understood the numbers here. Two against one was a safe bet, though the factor of his blade made me squirm a little.

“Get down on your knees.” The man instructed, and I wanted to laugh.

“Yeah, thats not gonna happen!” JJ’s words became shorter as he took a step back, the man’s slow approach sending both of us in fight or flight. I knew from the first glance what JJ would choose.

The man swung violently, aiming down on JJ’s shoulders with a quick blow, but missing as he ducked and shifted to the left. The machete made a loud clanging sound as it hit the metal floor.

He swung again, this time at me, but he was already off balance, swinging aimlessly at someone who wasn’t there. My hands pushed down against his arm, keeping him and the weapon pinned to the wall of the boat, right against a closed compartment that looked like it was hiding electrical cables.

Grunting as he fought against my hands, JJ wound up and struck the man with his bare knuckles, hitting him square in the jaw. His hands braced the mans shoulders, our eyes meeting in the chaotic scene, another unspoken plan shared between our glances.

“Hit him, Y/n/n!” He instructed, and as JJ pulled the man back, I opened the compartment where his hand had been, smacking him dead center in his face so hard, it echoed through my ears. I couldn’t help but grimace to myself.

“Wheres John B?” JJ shouted, his voice rough with anger. He shifted from foot to foot, hands drawn in a position ready to swing, even with the man helplessly lying on the ground.

I ran to the edge of the boat, my palms bracing myself over the edge, the empty water making my stomach drop. I wondered helplessly what was holding the others up as JJ and I fought on borrowed time.

“John B!” I shouted, my voiced strained.

I heard the sound of hair moving quickly, the cut of a blade slicing above JJ’s head as he once again ducked, but this time, we weren’t as lucky. With a kick to the gut, JJ went flying back, his head bouncing off the side of the railing. He sat with his hand cradling the back of his head.

“Y/n/n!” He alerted me. Turning on my feet, the man was closer to me than before, his gaze deadly and set solely on me.

He swung once, twice, missing with each violent stroke of the blade. I ducked the best I could, growing more confident as the pain of connection never came, but I grew too overconfident. I spend too much time with JJ, I guess.

The sting came quickly, a burning pain that ripped through my skin and sunk deep past the tissue. I screamed out in a broken cry of desperation, my fingers gripping my shoulder in agony.

The man swung again, only to be pulled away by the blond boy once again, his arms swallowing him whole from the back. Their grunts were the only other thing I could hear past the beating of my heart, yet, seeing the man elbow JJ in his sternum hurt more than the wound that bled out between my red fingers.

He had JJ winded, and with one swift turn, he tried to take me one more time.

I ducked, and watched in horror as the blunt end sent JJ flying over the edge of the boat, nearly three stories until the splash sounded from the deck.

The man came at me again, the dance becoming all too repetitive as the sole of my shoe connected with his stomach. He stumbled into the ground, lying flat. I raced to the edge, the sight below me sickening.

There JJ was, floating on his stomach, his head below the surface, unmoving and sinking slowly. The waves look him in every direction, and all that filled my mind was the silent begging that he would flip.

“JJ!” I screamed, trying to wake him as if the water wasn’t filling his ears. The water around him bubbled, the deep blue a bright white from the impact, his old tank top lifting to reveal the shape of his back.

He didn’t move, he didn’t respond, and my feet met the top of the railing on the boat. I didn’t even think, I didn’t register all the danger below the surface, how stupid it was to jump into the open water with no guarantee that John B would ever show up, but it didn’t matter because I couldn’t stop it. I was hitting the water regardless of how fearful I was of the cold.

“JJ!” Water fell out of my mouth in heaving splatters of coughing fits, my hair glued flat against my skin and my clothes clinging to every inch of my body. I would be lying if I said the impact didn’t hurt, if the salt water didn’t burn the harsh aching in my shoulder.

“Jayj!” With my good arm, I pulled the blond boy into my body, laying his head back against my shoulder to keep him above the surface, to get some air into his lungs.

“Jayj?” My other hand came to grab his face, and my thighs burned with how viciously they cut through the water, treading painfully harsh to keep us afloat. His limp body drifted against mine, and the gentle tangle of our limbs made it harder to swim.

“Jayj, stay with me!” I dropped his cheek, needing the extra hand to keep us above the water. With no help around and only the unfamiliar waters to call home, I felt a bile rise in my throat, like I could vomit if my stomach wasn’t so empty, if hungry was a feeling I had grown to know.

“Please!” I gritted my teeth, feeling my head drip under the gentle waves for a moment, it stung when I opened my eyes again. “JJ, please!” I cried out, taking in every breath of air like it was a gift.

“Stay with me, stay with me!” I grunted, using all my strength. I debated letting the water take me, if only I could extend my arms to keep him a float, I would let myself drown.

My thighs burned, and my arms were too shaky to hold on for much longer. My brows furrowed and my nose burned, a familiar ache in my lungs. I knew crying would do me no good, but as my chest became hollow, I felt my tears mix with the oceans waves drowning out my face.

Everything hurt. Hurt in a way, I could never explain. It was like I could feel each edge of my heart giving out and the sharp cuts of every wheeze that huffed past my cracking lips.

The water was red. Redder than I’d ever seen the ocean because water isn’t red. Maybe it was the cut from his head staining the once vibrant seas a dark maroon, but I could see it swirling in delicate droplets down my arm, I could feel the stickiness even in the salty surroundings.

But there was also fear. Fear that my best wasn’t enough, fear that I would become inclined to give up, because giving up is much sweeter when you have the option. Dying never is. Not even when you want to. Having the urge doesn’t make the pain less scary, and so I kick restlessly to keep the both of us up.

“John B’s coming, John B’s coming, okay?” I assured the empty crowd, JJ completely unaware of the distress of the situation as he lay lifeless in my weakened arms.

His arms floated with the movement of the ocean, his hair covering his eyes. The blond hair that I adored, ran my hands through and ruffled was darker now that it was wet. Not in the way it was when he surfed, but drenched. Stuck to his skin and covering his forehead.

With one strong kick, I gained enough power to lift us up just a bit higher from the surface. My shaky hand brushed the hair from his face.

“John B!” I call out as I steal another glance at his paling face, a red stain spreading on his temple from the blow of the blade, leaking down and staining my own cheek from how close he is to me.

“Help!”

The motor of a boat catches my ear, but my lungs have given up and I’ve already sunk so far below the water, our heads are barely breaking surface.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I pant out, my eyes shutting like it would do us any good. I could have let him go, I could have carried my own weight a moment longer, but with every doubting thought, my hands only held onto him tighter, a silent refusal to give up on him, even if it meant letting the darkness consume me.

Kiara would have yelled at me, and been proud all at once. She would have called me stupid for risking my life for someone so reckless, but then she would have clapped me on the back and said it was what any of us would have done. Pogues for life and all that.

I really missed her now, I wished she was here to scold me, I wished I wasn’t so alone.

“Hey! JJ!” A chorus of cries for us rang throughout the distance, the motor boat approaching as the others all cried out for JJ, my head slipping below the waves.

“No, no, no, no!” John B’s voice broke, the weight on my shoulder lifting, I saw Pope and John B lift him from the water through the stinging of my blurry vision, I felt him leaving my grip, but my hands only grabbed onto him harder.

Subconsciously, I couldn’t let him go. It was only hurting the both of us, we were saved, the Pogues finally finding their way to us, but part of my brain couldn’t comprehend that it was all ending soon because it was all going black. My vision, my heart, my mind.

But just before the water could suck me down, Kiara pulled me on board, her hands grabbing onto me like I had grabbed onto JJ.

“Y/n, holy shit.” Her voice shook with concern. Where her knuckles had held onto me, where my shirt was wrinkled wetly between her fingers, came the slow oozing of deep maroon down my skin, staining everything it touched.

It smeared around with every rock of the boat, and I swore I felt myself swaying. Kiara said something about the depth of the wound, how she thought she saw bone. It blurred like my vision, my lips parting only to shut at the sound of Pope and John B’s distress.

JJ laid still with his head propped up against the edge of the boat, eyes shut just as they were in the water, his eyelashes laying curled against his wet cheek.

The sight gave me a second wind, my hands craved to feel the weight of his body in my arms, to feel the warmth of his skin against my finger tips tor remind me he was here.

“JJ, no, come on!” I begged through broken tears. “Please, get up!” My hands tapped on his chest, though I was ready to press my lips against his and give him all my air if I needed to.

I crawled to him like I needed him to breathe, my knuckles scraping across the bottom of the boat, bruises and cuts littering my pruning skin. I clung to him like a vice, my lips wobbling like a child.

“Get up!” I shouted, scolding him like a mother. Yet, the brokenness of my voice seemed to carry into his empty head as his drool spilled out of his lips, spitting up onto his chest as he gained his bearings.

It was gross, the salt water mixed with the slimy drool dripping from his mouth and wetting his soaked tank top beyond what it was, but I had never seen a more relieving sight. My best friend drooling all over himself, but god, he was alive and that’s all that mattered.

The boat seemed to fall quiet for a moment, all in awe of his return, all following the wavering gaze that swept over the small boat. He was out of it, for sure. His eyes carrying a sense of question beyond what he usually held, but as he registered the faces around him as his closest friends, his family, the panic seemed to fade into a mellow knowing.

“Yeah, yeah! Cough it out, cough it out baby!” John B encouraged, a sea of instructions following from the others in a desperate hurry, all reaching over to simply feel for a steady thumping of a pulse.

I sat back on my heels, looking down at him, and revoking my warm touch from his chest quickly. Retracting it with uncertainty that it would hurt him, like he was fragile.

“Welcome to the land of the living, dude.” Pope smiled, earning a side eye from JJ as he looked around to find his friends all looking down at him with concerned gazes.

My fingers shook, hovering over his chest like I didn’t know if it was right to touch him, if I had the right. I’d felt my own chest caving in just minuted ago, I wondered if I dared to rest my palms against his skin, would he feel the same?

I laid a hand on his shoulder, and watched his vision dance from where we touched to my face, taking a moment to breathe in my presence.

“Hi.” I breathed out in relief, but also something deeper that I didn’t have the words to describe.

“‘Sup.” JJ said, his usually cool demeanor meaning nothing to me at the moment. I pushed his head away gently, still all too aware of the wound leaking from his temple, the way the blood seemed to stain everything. His hair, his skin, his stupid shirt. It tainted everything good with the memories of the bad, the unforgettable, the hurt. But I couldn’t stay away for too long.

As soon as the smile cross his golden features, my arms wrapped around his face like a blanket, holding him to my chest to feel how fast he had my heart beating. He didn’t mention the drumming against his ear, but the warmth that spread across his face told me he felt it, he knew the feeling all too well. Maybe if I had the courage to rest my hands over his heart, I would have known.

I thought of the surf trip, of his dreams, of the gold, of everything that he ever wanted, and I sweat at the thought of it never happening. I crumbled at the idea of him not getting to be a forever given in my life, of him only being a fraction of time, when I wanted it all.

“Don’t ever do that again.” I mumbled against his wet hair, but I don’t think he heard it over the chatter between him and John B, the laughter from Sarah all too loud to hear my soft whisper, a confession that really wasn’t much, but carried the weight of all my emotions.

If he did, he didn’t mention it. He was good at not mentioning it, but he was bad at forgetting.

“You’re bleeding all over the sand, Y/n.” Sarah pointed out, stepping out of the boat, allowing JJ and her husband-to-be to drag the long dead motorboat onto the shore.

An island to call home and a tropical paradise to explore for however long the summer would last and the warmth would suffice.

I was the first to let the water reach my shins, practically jumping out of the boat in a rush, an overwhelming need to feel the ground between my toes, to rinse off the grime and hurt from the failed mission. One cross gone and another home taken.

My body lay starfish position on the soft surface, my shoulder still open and aching, but dulling over time. It didn’t feel that bad anymore, and I was sure the ringing in my ears was just from the adrenaline, though, I’d never heard it before.

“That’s nasty, shes right.” Kiara agreed, trying to tug me up by the arm, only to stretch out my collar bone and earn a lazy grunt from my lips. If I were as smart as I had been prior to the stress, prior to the fact of the pact of the B Team, prior to all the shared dreams and promises to make it out, I would have asked Cleo or Pope to help mend my wounds.

Now, I just felt ready to die. Let my life wash away into the open ocean and let the jellyfish drink me up. Let the sea turtles consume me and share the same bliss of a high that I did with my friends.

“Circle of life.” I grunted, my cheek covered in sand, I buried my face into the dirt. “It’s an early Thanksgiving for the seagulls.”

“You’re so dramatic.” Kiara kicked my hip lightly, trying to move the rock of a being I had become.

“Yeah, and not everyone celebrates Thanksgiving.” Cleo joked from a distance, already gathering wood and stone for a fire. It would be dark soon anyway.

“My joints hurt.” I complained drowsily.

“No shit, I can practically see your bone. Get up.” Kiara fought, turning her head to call for back up from someone with the power to move me from my dormant headspace.

“John B, Pope!” Kiara called out with an annoyed expression, and I found myself smiling at the way her face grew fuzzier and the sounds all became one loud booming ring in my ears.

It hurt so good, a warmth covering my body like a blanket, a reward after fighting so hard. If death found me, I found it peaceful. Ready to be consumed by the darkness to avoid the haunting memory of the limp body floating in my arms. To forget about the way my heart clenched beyond repair.

It wasn’t like, it was love. I’d always known it deep down, but now I knew I could put a name to the feeling, and it terrified me. Because it replayed every second of JJ’s life slipping away, and somehow, it left out the part where he came to.

I could barely make out the shape of the trees anymore. Everything became one big collage in the sky.

“John B! JJ!” Kiara looked back, stunned by the look in my eyes, the same look that had been in JJ’s before he was taken by the waves. A look that would have haunted me for a lifetime. It now tormented Kiara.

It was a look of slipping, of giving up, giving out. The end, even.

“Help!” She cried out desperately, watching the clumsy boys scramble to the ground and catch their bearings, hands digging through the dirt to get to me.

“What happened?” Pope called out, his concerned hands holding Kiara’s shoulders and his love sick gaze failing to focus on what really matters.

Isn’t that funny? I spent all my time focused on JJ, my own gaze stuck in the permanent focus of only him. I didn’t even care to feel the pain tearing away at my skin and my bones. I barely even noticed it after a while. It became nothing compared to the something I almost lost.

Now, as I lay in the sand, choking on my breath in agonizing pain that slowly seeps through in waves, I watch through blurred vision as Pope does the same.

It seemed that it just now snapped in everyone’s mind that the maroon pooling around my arm wasn’t normal. It wasn’t like the scrapes from sharp rocks in the surges, or the nasty head wounds from countless drunken dares to climb things that shouldn’t even be looked at while sober.

The bubbling, and the smell, the metaling smell, it was sickening, and it wasn’t normal. Adrenaline can only get you so far, and hell, I’d already spent it all up.

“Y/n/n!” I heard a familiar voice, rough with exhaustion but stronger now that the day was beginning to wash over and the pain was beginning to creep away.

His dirty hands pressed hard against my skin, his delayed nature only slipping his hand over the one place it shouldn’t have been. Touch me anywhere, make me feel okay, like this isn’t really the end, but please, don’t dig your fingers around in the wound I have just for you.

It only makes things harder to mend.

“JJ!” Sarah screamed, and I threw my head back, screaming.

It hurt worse than anything, the feeling of nail against flesh. It stung more than any jellyfish and it scratched sharper than any knife. Thousands of needles shot down my veins, my knuckles stuttering into a pitiful fist.

“Stop! Stop!” I cried, my whole body shaking—no, my whole body collapsing in on itself. Folding into the earth in order to run away from the pain.

“I’m trying to help, stop squirming like a fish!” He stressed, the creases by his brow showing the wear from the evening already, we all felt as though we’d aged a century in a minute.

“Get off of me!” I tried to reach over, I didn’t want his dead hands on my cold body. I didn’t want his limp fingers rubbing against my moving joints. I didn’t want to feel what I felt in the water, and I didn’t want to see it either.

“Please, get off!” I shouted, my voice breaking like a fragile thing. A thin layer, a brittle sheet of clay crumbling under the weight of the hands that once so tenderly shaped it.

Dying does a funny thing to the mind, especially in a panic. You spend all your time trying to remember to breathe, you forget reality. Even though he was kneeling down beside me, digging around under my skin and arguing back harshly words he meant as sentiment in his overwhelming stress, to me, I had convinced myself he was dead. I didn’t do it, I couldn’t save him, I let those thoughts of giving up consume us and I watched him die in my arms.

There is no boat ride, there is no island, there is no nothing. There is only before, and the end. There is no after. Forget the fact the blood is sticking to everything, and the fact that I’ve felt John B’s cold rings slapping hard across my cheekbones to keep me aware of myself, everything is all nothing and I hear nothing but the sound of my ragged breath wheezing and my horrible cries echoing, bouncing off the Pogues.

Pope took over, finally getting his brains back. The scarecrow held firm pressure over the wound, evenly spread along my arm in a way that stung, but never scratched, never matted the fur of my mane or cut off my skin. He spoke so quickly, and it was so muffled, I began to want to hear him, take the trip down the yellow brick road and find the courage to stay.

Then, there was the ripping of a shirt. It was dark, and rough, but worn in so it felt softer that way. Then, more pain, more pressure, and then, nothing.

But this wasn’t death, because I could still hear and feel and taste the spit on my tongue, the salt water that washed everything I bit down on away. I was still there, but now, I could feel myself calming down, drowning out the silence and coming back to the truth.

“Have you considered a career as a EMT?” I panted, my heavy eyes flickering up to Popes reforming face, the hay and the straw hat fading away into just the kind boy I loved. The yellow road becoming the soft, now wet, sand beneath my back.

He smiled like a dope, clicking his tongue and showing his toothy grin. Relief was the only word to describe the silence that fell over the group at that moment, silence that felt heavy to everyone but the victim. Silence that I felt on the boat.

“I hate you.” He laughed, punching me between the ribs with a force that only could be equated to the fact that he wasn’t a liar, and it was obvious he was on the math team, not an athlete.

“No you don’t.”

My body curled up in laughter, nose scrunched and aware of the extreme caution that was required to keep my arm from splitting apart. I tried to argue back, but my words fell short on choked laughter, letting Kiara hoist me up by the waist and feeling her wet bracelets press against my warm skin. JJ simply walked away, all too quiet for a boy who never knew silence in his life.

I didn’t press him.

“Can I sit?”

Days had passed, water lapped at the shore, quenching the insurmountable thirst of the dry land before it. The wind blew softly against the greenery, and the birds sung out, diving into the distant waters for their supper.

JJ sat with his knees pulled to his chest, arms thrown over the bend lazily, hands fiddling with a sharpened stick he had been working incessantly on since he’d finished his first project, a white waving flag that read, Pougelandia.

The wind blew up the end of his shirt, a cut off tank top that once fell to his mid thigh now rested loosely at his tanned hips, ripped unevenly across the dark stitching.

He breathed evenly, eyes not even flickering over to meet mine, not a word shared between us. A dream of surf expenditures and found family adventures. We talked of island paradise when all smoothed over. When the earth buried our blood and tears, and the sting began to slip away.

There was happiness, beyond the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror of the swift nightfall, the impending cold that would have brought any surviving energy away from our warm bodies. There was calm.

He promised to make boards with dried wood, to carve them by hand, break them with his knuckles. The wood was rotting, and it was cracking quickly.

Once again, dreams were altered to fit the shitty hand that was dealt. The rich became richer, and our frames became thinner.

The world spat in our face and said it was the wind.

I sat down beside him now, and it was unusually quiet between us. I guess, this was better than the forever silence, the six feet of separation that I wanted nothing more than to leave behind. He couldn’t even see me.

“Did I do something?” I asked quietly, voiced drowned out by the sound of the sea, the distant hollers of our friends echoing above the trees. I wished I could see everything for what it is, but I had not a clue, a fool sitting beside my uncharacteristically empty best friend.

“No.” He answered plainly.

“No?” I asked, begged practically for confirmation. He nodded his head, agreeing, but it was unclear if it was an agreement within a disagreement.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’, bitter, I could see it more clearly now in my new found focus.

“I can’t make it go away if you don’t tell me, Jay.” I smiled, laughing like it was a pity for us to be so awkward. And it was, it was so fucking weird. Fake niceties are weird.

Leaning forward to mirror how he sat, I tried to get a forward perspective of the furrow between his brows. He brushed the space below his nose and sniffed like he was annoyed. It reminded me of the boy who held up the cross with his bare hands on the ship, the boy who had aimed a gun at the kids he grew up with, his own sister too. His anger reminded me a lot of a Camerons anger, and I figured he had enough reason to feel stressed, he had all the reason to show it.

“This isn’t Kildare.” I reminded him.

“I know.”

“It’s just us.” I added.

“I know.” He nearly snapped, fingers tingling with annoyance, anger, grief even. It was a dying fuse ready to explode, to burn it all down.

We sat in silence for a moment, and I hoped he would speak. Rarely, we had fights. Usually they were stupid, ending in us laughing and my hips thrown over his shoulder. He never hit and neither did I, neither of us even tempted the idea. If we needed space, we gave it, though, it never lasted long because we craved each other like a dog to its owner. Like a moth to a flame, we always came back.

Still, I hoped he would speak first. I felt like I was doing most of it, carrying the conversation for five people while only speaking to one. When he remained quiet, trying to reel it in, I broke the tension.

“You can tell me what’s wrong, Jay. I’ll be here. It’s not like I could leave even if I wanted to.”

If I hadn’t lost my life, I had lost my ability to read the room, because my weak joke fell so flat, it might as well have served as the boards we never got to make together, the memories we would never get to experience. It rotted into his mind and left something so disgusting to him, I could read it on his face.

“No, no but you could.” Sand kicked up behind his heels, hands pushing up off of his knees, knuckles bruised and palmed sandy. He was scruffier than usual, but the blues of his eyes were all the same, dappled with the flickers of light I had fallen in love with so long ago.

“What?” I laughed, standing up slowly, but then jerking forward once I saw how quickly he was creating distance between us.

If we weren’t alone then, I was sure he had led us into total solidarity.

The trees were thicker here, the shoreline rocky and short, even at low tide. It would be completely gone in a few minutes when the tide would start rolling in. I could feel the water trying to break free against the soles of my shoes every time a larger wave came crashing through, between the overhangs and vines that tried and failed to barricade the sacred land.

“Because you did leave, Y/n. You left.”

JJ turned around, his hand pointing to my heart and his eyes avoiding contact where the cloth was wound tightly around my skin and bone. The shirt he tore to let me wear and to let me feel put together again. He stepped closer, closing the distance between us.

I caught the way his eyes seemed to shine more delicately in the reflection of the ocean, the way the wind blew against his blonde locks, the same shining color as his heart of gold. A loyal, fiercely protective friend who was crumbling at the mere idea that abandonment could always win, even though the people he believed would never leave.

“You left.” He repeated more quietly, his lower lip wobbling with such an intensity, I felt the bile rising up in my throat.

“I didn’t leave.” I defended quietly between choked breaths. “How could you think I would leave? I would never leave you, I wouldn’t want to.”

“Then what was that then?”

His head turned to look out at the horizon, biting down harshly on his teeth and sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. His weight shifted from left to right, fists clenching and unclenching by his side, conflict evident in his face. His brows were drawn in so tightly, his face scrunched up almost like he was in pain, like he couldn’t even fight anymore, I watched the internal battle between strength and hurt argue over who got control over his brain. I could tell which had already won his heart.

“I watched you there, Y/n. I saw the…the blood and the tears. I saw all of it, you were dead. You died.”

I shook my head, feeling a familiar lump forming in the base of my throat. Everything seemed to burn. From my sweaty palms to the flare of my nostrils and the back of my skull. It all ached dully, inflamed by the accusation that I had truly given up, that I had been gone with no intention to come rescue him.

“I was there.” My voice broke, my eyebrows pulled down in a deep frown. My palm instinctively came to cup my wound, and my fingers cupped around the fabric, pulling down gently to let the pain breathe.

Never in our decade of friendship had I ever felt so alone from JJ. We were on other worlds and it was clear, and it was something I hated being accustomed to. We were so alike, but so different in this moment. Together but so far apart. Like January and December, one after the other, following like ducks but with the distance of a lifetime between.

“I was there, I saw you standing over me.”

“You pushed me away, you didn’t need me! You didn’t want me. I saw the look in your eyes. You wanted to leave. You were okay with leaving!” JJ shouted, his voice booming. I wondered if it had the power to carry over to the others and reveal our argument to everyone. We were too far away, and I was thankful for that because I knew whatever was coming wasn’t going to be kind. I could feel the bubbling pressure building in my chest like a hot rock sizzling my flesh from the inside out, and it wanted to sink through if I didn’t spit it out.

“Can you blame me?” I cried out, tears falling from my water line in a stream of pain that cut deeper than any blade had. “I was in pain, JJ! I was in so much fucking pain! I was bleeding out, in a place I don’t know, and I’ve never felt more alone! I couldn’t breathe, JJ. I couldn’t hear anything, I couldn’t see. Why is it selfish to not want to want to suffer, when I would wish you the same peace if it were to happen to you.”

JJ’s chin wrinkled in sadness, wetting his lips with his tongue and blinking back his own tears. I had so much to say and only so much air in my lungs. Only so much I could choke on before it all came out.

“The worst part is, I thought you were dead. If the damn blade didn’t kill me, you would have because I would rather die than have to live the next eternity without you by my side. I thought…I thought I failed you, and I couldn’t even look anyone in the eye because all I could see was your face in the water. Do you know how terrifying that was? To have your limp body weighing me down in the ocean? My best friend, my buddy, the only person I’d ever want to bother me like you do. Dead, all because of me? Do you know how guilty I’ve been? How guilty you’ve made me? I’m a god damn monster, and it’s a shame I turned out like I did because I had the potential to be something like you. But I can’t be because I’m a failure. Because even for even for a moment, I was thinking that maybe we would both be better off if I just gave up? If I let the ocean take us because god, if the light hasn’t been kind then the darkness can at least give me some damn peace!”

We both fell quiet now. My chest heaved with anxiety. My bones felt heavy, I felt heavy. I felt stupid, and I knew nothing I was saying made sense. It was all mindless rambling about everything I’d been mulling over for what felt like years.

“I love you. A-and I mean that in a way that I’ve never known before, and that fucking terrifies me. It terrifies me that theres always a chance that one day I won’t have the privilege to lay next to you, or-or to sit with you on the porch at John B’s and just talk about things that don’t matter like they do. Like, I love you, dude! And I can’t act like I don’t anymore. I thought…I thought that if I pushed it down, if I ignored it then maybe I could forget about it, but I can’t. Because the truth is I’ve always loved you. And I’m sorry if this means everything has been a lie, if I’m a fraud but I can’t pretend like I wouldn’t die for you, because I would and I tried.”

“I’m sorry, what?” JJ breathed, eyes wide and lips parted. He was shocked, and so was I. There was no going back, it was eat the words or let the words eat me. The truth was out, and I couldn’t deny it.

“I love you.”

Silence. Every moment led me here, to this island. Every time I grabbed onto the back of his jacket to steady myself, or the times I pawed at his chest to get him to stop trying to antagonize the Kooks. I followed him to the ends of the earth, literally. That was proof of my love, if not, it proved my devotion.

“I’m sorry.” JJ whispered back. His eyes shined with freckles of light from the waves and the stars and the sun. He couldn’t say it back, and I knew why because I know him, but we both knew what he meant to say with his apology.

“Me too.” I breathed out.

Often, our friends would poke fun that we couldn’t keep it under wraps around each other. That our lingering touches and fleeting glances were too romantic to be a friendly gesture. Maybe part of their teasing was right, but not completely.

Stepping forward in the sand, I felt the warmth of his arms pulling me into his chest, the strength and the kindness familiar, but the touches deeper and different. Where we once dappled with affection became a feeling that dominated now. We’d stood like this before, but with the confession hanging between our lips, everything was different.

His breathing, his gaze, the curve of his lips, the tucking of his nose against my cheek. We bumped noses blindly, his fingers dancing up my spine to the small of my back. I felt his eyelashes tickle my skin before I felt the rough-soft mixture of his lips pressing against mine.

It felt like something out of a movie, like fantasy. All those stupid stories I’d never believed where the lovers fit together perfectly made complete sense now as we molded together with a dance we knew all too well.

My hands reached for the back of his neck desperately, pawing at whatever curves I could get a grip on. It was slow, a steady pour of the heart into each other and completely intoxicating up until the moment we split apart for air.

“I should die more often if you’ll kiss me like that.” I joked, laughing into the crook of his neck.

“Nah, you don’t gotta do all that anymore.” He promised.

Affection was never our thing, love was foreign and forgiveness came hard. We held grudges and fought secrets for each other, and in the end, it’s what made us make perfect sense.

I look at JJ now in the dimming light above the ocean, and I no longer see the reflection of his empty gaze and heavy body. I see adoration, a softness that I’d always failed to recognize before.

“Jay?” I mumbled, chasing his lips again. He hummed against my skin, warm air tickling my body.

“Save it for the surf trip, okay?” I teased.

He growled playfully, squeezing the curves of my hips and nipping at my shoulder.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

I laughed.

“I’d save you.”

“Maybe.” JJ smiled, beaming with love.

After a moment of silence in each others arms, I felt his chest expand with a calm breath, and the stutter in mine silenced whatever thought he was about to blurt out impulsively.

“We should probably really consider getting passports.” I suggested softly, still longing for the surf trip with my best friend.

“Hell no, thats some kook bullshit” He argued softly, his smile still stretched against my skin.

“The kookiest.” I agreed.

I felt JJ pull away to breathe in the salty air. His eyes remained trained on mine, and the look gave me deja vu to a time not so long ago. A look we shared in the sweltering confinements of the cargo ship container. Only, now that I wasn’t blinded by a mixture of excitement for the treasure and the fear of failure, I could see the real gold in front of me. I could understand the gravity of his gaze.

A look that would fluster me for a life time.

[wonderl3ss]

Fantasize

Pairing: pro hero!Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader

Warnings: (not proofread) SMUT! Praise, degradation, pet names, (baby, slut) unprotected p in v, use of y/n, not exactly cheating but he breaks up w his gf for reader; homewrecker reader.

A/n: I absolutely in no way condone cheating or going after someone in a relationship; everything I write is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only — It does not reflect any of my personal preferences. That being said, this is, once again, inspired by an Ariana Grande song.

Katsuki Bakugo was not a stranger to you, nor were you to him. Infact, you’d been decently close friends since UA. You’d never harboured any sort of romantic feelings for him back then as he was too immature for your liking. Now, however, he’s different, he’s grown.

Not just mentally, but physically too. He’s huge; 6’2 and pure muscle. He’s matured into the number 3 pro-hero. Everyone wants a piece of him, but, unfortunately only one person is lucky enough — his girlfriend.

You’re jealous of her. It should be you getting manhandled and fucked dumb by him, not her.

These feelings didn’t happen until a few weeks ago when he was on some talkshow being interviewed. He looked incredible. He was wearing this tight, black shirt that left nothing to the imagination. You could see every single dip and bump of muscle. It had your pussy throbbing.

Until the interviewer asked him about his love life and he’d confirmed he was taken. There was something about the fact he was unavailable that made you want him twice as much. No, you needed him. And you’d do whatever it took to make him yours. Whether his girlfriend knew or not, you didn’t care.

Currently, you, Mina, Eijirou, Denki, Hanta and of course, Katsuki and his girlfriend, are at some bar in the middle of town getting drinks and catching up.

You’re all a little tipsy and [un]lucky for you, the alcohol has gone straight to your pussy. It also doesn’t help that Katsuki looks insanely good. He’s not wearing anything fancy or inherently sexy, just a regular black t-shirt and some slightly baggy jeans. But, to you (and your pussy) he looks incredible.

He’s at the bar talking to Eijirou, with his girlfriend stood at his side and a beer in his hand. You’re sat at a booth with Mina, she’s chatting about something but you’re not listening. All your attention is on said blond.

Mina has no idea about your infatuation with Katsuki, but she’s bound to know after tonight. The way you’re looking at him isn’t hiding anything. She knows that look. She knows you.

“He’s taken, ya’know,” she says. This catches your attention; you know who she’s talking about.

“I know,” you simply reply. What else is there to say? She doesn’t need to know your plan, atleast, not yet.

“So why’re you looking at him like you’re a predator and he’s the prey? You’re not seriously gonna go after a taken man, are you?” She knows you can and will.

You just look at her, the expression on your face saying ‘he won’t be taken when I get him.’ Mina just shakes her head.

“Where’d this come from, anyway? This sudden want for Katsuki?” She takes a sip from her cocktail, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “But I’m gonna get what I want… I always do.” You look away, closing your eyes as you finish up the rest of your own drink.

Mina just laughs. You both know what you’re doing is wrong but neither of you care. Mina won’t say it but she never really liked Katsukis girlfriend anyway, so she couldn’t care less if you break them up.

You look back over and Katsuki and he’s on his own. You guess his girlfriend’s in the bathroom and Eijirou is talking to Denki or Hanta. You stand and nod your head toward the bar where Katsuki stands as if to say to Mina ‘I’m gonna get another drink (and my man.)’

Mina smiles and stands too, but makes her way toward whenever Eijirou is.

You get to the bar and order yourself another drink.

“Want one?” You ask Katsuki, “my treat,” you smile.

His answer is short and sweet, a simple, “sure.”

So you order him another beer; you know which one is his favourite.

“You know, I could be a lot better than her,” you’re not subtle with what you’re doing. You know what you want and you’re going to get what you want, there’s no point in beating around the bush.

At first, he’s taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting this from you, however, he can’t say he’s disappointed. You’re attractive, and he’s not going to deny that he’s thought about you in a sexual aspect before. He just wasn’t expecting you to have thought the same about him. Despite the fact his girlfriend is all but a few steps away, he decides to flirt back.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?

“Oh, really?” Your drinks arrive and he takes a swig. “I don’t know… I think she’s already good enough,”

You take a swig of your own drink, it burning slightly as it goes down your throat, but it only makes the fire in you hotter.

“Guess I’ll just have to show you sometime. I can offer a lot more than she can, in more ways than one,” you smirk at him, finally making eye contact.

He just lets out an ‘mhm’ while returning the smirk. You can sense a fire in his eyes. He’s actually thinking about it.

You peer over his shoulder and see his girlfriend is making her way back over. You take this as your cue to leave and go find Mina, you give him a wink, making sure his girlfriend doesn’t see — not that you care if she does.

You spend the rest of the night talking to Denki and Hanta, occasionally looking at Katsuki only to find he’s already staring at you from over his drink.

A few weeks later, a tonne more days of flirting and you know you’re so close to getting what you want. Just one more day and it’ll be yours, you can feel it.

A little birdie told you (Denki, ever the gossip) that Katsuki and his girlfriend have been going through what can only be described as a ‘rough patch’. Supposedly, he’s not been paying her as much attention as before. He’s distracted.

Now, all you need is the confirmation that they’ve officially broken up.

And it doesn’t take long.

It’s time for one of your weekly meet-ups, and lucky for you it’s at your place this week. You’ve got Katsuki right where you want him.

Everyone has turned up already, except for him.

You’re sat around your coffee table, laughing and sharing anecdotes about your week when he finally arrives. Alone.

Eijirou, his best friend, is the first to speak up about this. It’s not any secret within your group that somethings going on between Katsuki and his significant other, but nothings actually been said out loud about it, until now.

“Hey, man! Nice’a ya’ to join us, your girl not coming?”

“Nah, we broke up,” BINGO. The one thing you’ve wanted so insanely bad has finally fallen right into your hands. He’s yours.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Eijirou rubs the back on his neck, afraid he’s now made it awkward.

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it.” Katsuki shrugs and makes his way toward where you’re all sat, and he sits down right next to Eijirou, which also just so happens to be opposite you. You stare at eachother; you both know what’s going to happen after everyone leaves.

The night continues on and you and Katsuki have been giving eachother ‘fuck me’ eyes. You’re sure everybody’s noticed, but neither of you care.

Finally, the night comes to a close and everyone is beginning to leave. You’ve waved Denki and Hanta goodbye already and are chatting to Mina as Eijirou announces that he’s heading home. You all give him your goodbyes and now it’s just you, Katsuki and Mina left.

“Go get your man.” Mina leans in to whisper toward you. She turns away and gathers up her stuff, giving you one last wink and a smile before also leaving.

The second Katsuki hears the door shut he walks over to you, you look up at him and he speaks, “gonna show me now?” He’s referring to what you said back at the bar a month ago.

His hands find your hips and yours reach up to wrap around his neck; you’re so close you can feel his breath on your face. You smile, then waste no time in clashing your lips together.

The kiss is heated and rushed and Katsuki ends up backing you into a wall, this eliciting a small noise from the back of your throat akin to that of a moan.

His hands slide lower, down to your ass as he lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his hips and the friction between you becomes unbearable. He’s pressed so close to you that you can feel his boner growing right on your clit.

He breaks away from the kiss only for his mouth to latch onto your neck, sucking a bruise there. You moan and attempt to grind yourself down onto him. You need him inside you, now.

“Kats… bedroom,” you mutter breathlessly. You don’t have to tell him twice before he’s carrying you into your room and throwing you onto the bed, and hovering over you.

“Been thinking about this for so long,” he whispers before kissing you once again. You don’t think you’ve ever had anyone kiss you this good before.

He begins to unbuckle his belt and you sit up on your elbows to watch. The second his jeans fall onto the floor your eyes are on his boner. The thin fabric of his boxers doing nothing to hide it. He’s huge.

Then, he’s prying your legs apart and standing between them. His hands find the bottom of your shirt and usher you to take it off. You do exactly that. His own shirt follows yours right after.

“Need you so bad,” you all but moan as you look up at him, and he swears there’s lust in your eyes.

“Yeah? Need this dick so bad, huh? ‘S all yours, baby,” and with that your own jeans are joining his on the floor, leaving you both in just your underwear.

There’s no hiding the little wet spot that’s pooled in your underwear, and Katsuki notices.

“This wet for me already? I’ve not even touched you yet. Fuck,” he bites his lip and reaches round to undo your bra. His lips attach back to yours as your bra is then slid down your arms and thrown god knows where onto the floor.

His hand slides down to your clit and presses a finger to your clit, rubbing little circles onto it over your underwear, your head is thrown back and a moan leaves your throat.

Your pleasure is short-lived, though, as he removes it to grab ahold of your hips and pull you forward toward where he’s stood at the edge of the bed.

He leaves a trail of kisses down the middle of your breasts as he pulls your underwear down your thighs. The gusset sticks just a little, showcasing just how wet you are for him.

He’s honestly never been so turned on in his life; cannot believe this is what he’s been missing out on.

He steps back just an inch to begin taking off his own boxers, and you’re already missing the heat from his body.

You’re both completely naked now. Your pussy feels like it has its own heartbeat and if he doesn’t get inside you without the best few seconds, you feel you’re going to explode.

“Need you inside, Katsuki,” you plead, looking into his eyes. You’ve been waiting over a month for this, there is no way you’re waiting any longer, even if just a few seconds.

“Want me to fuck you like the slut you are, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s tapping the head of his cock on your clit. He drags it down to your entrance and gathers up your slick before beginning to push the tip in.

Your arms give way and you fall onto your back. He’s only put the tip in but you can already feel the stretch. He’s bigger than any man you’ve had before, and fuck, you cannot believe he’d been giving this to her.

You don’t have to worry about that now, because he’s right here. Right where you wanted him. And he’s going to fuck you dumb just like you’ve wished for.

You shut your eyes as you feel him push himself all the way in, you both simultaneously let out a moan. You, because he’s so big, and him, because you’re so tight.

His head finds the crook of your neck and rests there as he pulls back out, not all the way, before slamming back in.

You can feel — hear — his breaths getting deeper as he begins to thrust into you. It’s a slow pace; he’s allowing you to adjust to his size.

“Already so much better,” he mumbles into your neck, leaving a soft kiss there before lifting his head and looking at your blissed out face, “couldn’t think of anything but you for the past month. Every time I fucked her, I couldn’t help but wish it was you,”

And that’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Another moan leaves your throat while your nails are digging and scratching up and down his back.

“Katsuki, please just shut up and fuck me.” Your legs wrap around his waist, your heels pressing into his back along with your fingernails.

“Don’t worry, baby, gonna fuck this slutty lil’ pussy till you can’t walk.” He takes a finger and starts circling it on your clit, pounding into you at a pace you’re unable to keep up with.

He can feel your pussy clenching around him, can tell you’re close. His eyes leave yours as he glances down to where you’re joined together and there’s a ring around the base of his cock where his pre-cum has mixed with your juices. Fuck, he’s getting close too.

“Shit… gonna cum,” you’re just able to stutter out.

“Doing so good for me, baby. C’mon, cum on my cock,” and the praise is all you need, the switch in you flipping and you’re gushing around his cock.

His mouth meets yours for one last sloppy kiss while he fucks you though your orgasm, overstimulation already settling in.

“Where?” He asks, but you’re unsure of what exactly he’s asking. He truly has fucked you dumb and he’s not even done that much.

He can tell by the look on your face your overstimulated and confused, so he elaborates, “gonna cum… where?” And you finally understand.

“Inside! Fuck… inside, Katsuki!” One last thrust and he’s letting out a breathless groan before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

He stays inside for just a moment while you both catch your breaths. A slight squelch and a moan is heard from you as he finally pulls out. He stands back and admires his handiwork, smiling at your face — your eyes are closed, mouth is hanging open and your hair is clinging to your forehead from the sweat. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous.

Your eyes open and slowly meet his. You smile back at him, a blush rising to your cheeks. How is it that you’re getting flustered now?

He hovers back over you, leans down and presses a small kiss to your lips. “You’re mine, you hear me? All mine. Ain’t no way I’m letting you leave after that,” the quiet chuckle he gives after saying this is one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard. You’ve never been happier getting what you want.

You nod. “Yeah… yours,” too tired and fucked-out to form a proper sentence. You feel him begin to lift you from the bed and help you walk to the bathroom, probably to clean you up, but what happens after that is all a blurred memory.

You wanted him to fuck you dumb, and fuck you dumb is what he did.

Another month passes and you’ve both made it official to the others. Katsuki is now officially, yours, and you his. Mina was the first to know, of course, you had messaged her the morning after.

You’re with Katsuki in the back of a limousine. You’re wearing a fancy, low-cut, tight, red dress with a slit down one of the legs, while Katsuki is in a marching red and black suit. He looks incredible — even better than he did in that interview when you first fell for him.

The limousine comes to a stop and the door is then opening. Katsuki exists first, holding a hand out for you to grab onto as you exit right behind him. There are cameras flashing from every angle.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been out in public with Katsuki, there have been other paparazzi pictures of you, but it’s the first time you’ve been in public with the intention of letting everyone know you’re a couple.

As he walks down the carpet with you, there are questions being shouting at you both, left right and centre, but only one specific question catches your attention, “y/n! What do you have to say about the rumours of you being a homewrecker?”

“I could never do anything like that. I mean, I would, but, I’m just too nice, and too hot.” is the only thing you reply before turning your attention back to Katsuki, a smirk on your face.

You’ve got what you want now, who cares how you got it?

[rafedaddy01]

Rafe has been obsessed with his assistant y/n ass

And she knows it

He always looks at it and even "accidentally "brushed his hand across her butt

Of course he is happily married so nothing has happened between them

Until now

Y/n walks into his office late in the evening

Slowly taking of all of her clothes telling him:

" Please f my ass sir"

-

You’ve seen the way your bosses eyes occasionally drop down to your ass and the way he ‘accidentally’ brushes his hands against your behind whenever he can. You also know that he’s happily married and would never lay a finger on you himself, which is why you’re standing in his office late at night when everybody has already gone home.

“Y/n, it’s late. Why haven’t you gone home” Rafes eyes are glued onto his computer screen but immediately look up when you shut his door and lock it. “”Y/n?” He clears his throat as he eyes your body up and down, watching as you reach over and pull the blinds closed.

“Just needed one more thing for the night, sir” you step closer to his desk and slowly start pulling your dress down until your standing in only the black lingerie you put on this morning. “Will you fuck my ass, sir?” You flutter your little lashes as you watch Rafes cheeks blush up red.

He pushes his chair back from his desk, standing and walking closer to you, “since you asked so nicely”

“Thank you, sir” you smile as you turn around and wiggle your ass at him, looking behind your shoulder and enticing him further.

“My god” he says under his breath as his eyes fall from your face to the material wrapped tightly around your flesh.

He wasted no time reaching out and palming your ass, his fingers leaving indents as he squishes the skin before pulling his hand back and swatting you, watching it jiggle and loving the little yelp that escapes you. He holds your ass with one hand as the other reaches for his belt, undoing it and pulling it from the loops of his dress pants. You watch his every move as he grabs your wrists, pins them behind your back and ties his belt around them. He brings you to his desk and pushes you down onto it, your face presses against the cool metal and your breathing picks up as you hear the zipper of his pants being pulled down.

He pulls the little panties off your body and groans as he takes in your naked skin. “Please, sir” you wiggle your ass, inpatient and ready to take what he’s about to give to you.

He doesn’t say a word but you feel his fingers touch you. You hear him spit against your tight ring and feel it dribble down as he pushes a finger into you and you wince then moan as he continues stimulating you.

He continues warming you up, shoving a second finger alongside the first as he feels you relax under him. You’re already a moaning mess, your pussy pulsating around nothing as you grow wetter by the second at the thought of what’s to come.

He pulls his fingers out, pushing your legs wider with his knees as his hands play with your ass. Palming the flesh and slapping it just to hear you gasp and watch the flesh jiggle before his eyes.

He grips the base of his freed cock with one hand and taps his tip against your hole. You moan at the small sensation.

“Rafe” you breath out a moan “please, sir. I need it” you groan as you feel him start to slowly push his tip in.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you fucking want” he grits as he feels your tightness start to envelope him, sucking him in.

He pushes all the way in, groaning at how tight you are. You moan his name and curses as he bottoms out and stays still for a minute to take it all in. “Good, you feel so fucking good” he chuckles breathlessly.

“Such a little slut. Coming into my office, Late at night and asking me to fuck your ass” he pulls back slowly only to slam forward with aggression.

You gasp at the new sensation. Arms reaching out for anything to grasp onto, only to be pulled back by his belt tightly wrapped around your wrists.

“Don’t try to run now” he snaps his hips again, more roughly this time.

“You wanted this” he pulls on the belt, tightening it further so your hands have no where to move.

“You asked for this” another harsh thrust as he picks up the pace.

You’re a babbling mess of thank yous and sirs and pleases. Your eyes permanently stuck in the back of your head as your mouth hangs out and drool spills out all over your bosses paperwork. “You feel so good” you moan out his name, tears spilling out your eyes as you thrash. The pleasure all too much.

His palm comes down against you ass, the sound of flesh on flesh echoes in the office as he lands another smack on the other side.

“Yeah? You like it” his voice is shakey and breathless as he continues putting in work, hips moving back and forth.

“Yes, oh god yes. I love it” you squeal. The mixture of pain and pleasure bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You want me to cum inside this tight little ass?” He lands another harsher smack against your ass.

The skin turning a dark red color from all the abuse it’s taken. You know it’ll be hard to sit down tomorrow, but you don’t care.

You felt the way his cock swelled up, the way it throbbed and alerted you he was already close to cumming.

You felt your own insides flutter and tighten, especially when Rafes fingers moved to toy with your clit.

“Holy shit, you’re so wet” he groaned as he felt the sticky juices that gathered against your thighs and dripped down onto his desk.

“Maybe I should fuck this sweet pussy next” his fingers pushed down onto your clit, circling it and loving the way your body and mouth reacted.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum-“ your voice moaned and squeaked as your legs started to shake.

“There we go, baby. Cum for me” he soothed you as he continued to fuck you through it and his fingers flicked your pearl faster with each thrust he delivered.

You clenched harder around him and he choked and groaned as he couldn’t contain himself much longer, releasing every last drop into that sweet, juicy ass he stared and dreamed about every damn day.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10 @writingroom21

[starkeyslibrary]

That's So True

Inspired by That's so True by Gracie Abrams

pairing: reader x drew starkey

a/n: i just realized that i've never formally introduced myself on here! my bad, my name is rhodee, 21 years old, living in europe and currently studying law. i love writing imagines that'll hopefully make you laugh, swoon or cry (sorry not sorry) a little too hard <3

stick around if you’re into dreamy characters, plot twists, or just want to scream about Drew with me!

hope i'll get to know so many of y'all on here!! okay that's all, enjoy <3

The night Drew had left for the premiere, you told yourself it was just another event, like all the others. You even tried to convince yourself you didn't mind staying home, avoiding the chaos of the red carpet. It's his night, you thought, forcing a smile as he kissed you goodbye, his cologne lingering in the air long after the door closed.

But as the hours stretched on, the gnawing sense of isolation grew. It wasn't just tonight - it had been building for months. Drew's career was skyrocketing, and with every interview, press tour and glamorous event, it felt like he was slipping further away from you. He'd promised that things would calm down after this movie, that he'd have more time. But those promises were always vague, like a finish line that kept moving further out of reach.

The photos hit social media just before midnight. Drew, looking devastatingly handsome in his suit, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his co-star, Odessa A’ Zion. The fan comments flooded in, gushing about how perfect they looked together, how the chemistry was undeniable.

You slammed your laptop shut. It wasn't jealousy - not exactly. You trusted him, but trust didn't erase the ache of feeling invisible.

The sound of Drew's keys jingling at the door pulled you from your spiralling thoughts. The clock on the wall read 1:47 a.m. You hadn't realized how late it had gotten. The door opened, and Drew stepped inside, his movements slow and careful, like he didn't want to disturb you. He probably thought you were asleep.

"Hey," you called out, your voice sharp in the quiet apartment. You couldn't hide the edge of frustration.

He paused, caught off guard, then gave a tired smile. "Hey, babe. Didn't think you'd still be up."

"Well, I am," you said, standing from the couch. "Thought you said you'd be home hours ago."

"The afterparty ran late," he explained, shrugging off his jacket. "I texted you."

"That's not the point, Drew," you snapped, your tone harsher than you intended. “This isn’t just about tonight. Do you even realize how little I see you anymore?”

His brows furrowed, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s my job, you know how crazy things get during press tour. This isn’t new.”

“That doesn’t make it easier,” you shot back. “You’re always out there, Drew. With her, with them – whoever. And I’m just .... here. Alone. Waiting for whatever scraps of time you have left.”

Drew exhaled sharply, clearly tired, and not in the mood for an argument. “This again?” he muttered, his tone clipped. “I can’t keep apologizing for doing my job.”

You flinched at his words. “I’m not asking you to apologize for working. I’m asking you to make me feel like I matter.”

“You do matter,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “But you’re acting like I can just drop everything. This is how it is y/n. This is how it’s always been.”

“No, it hasn’t,” you countered. “It’s different now. You’re different. You barely talk to me anymore. Half the time, I don’t even know what’s going on in your life. But everyone else does. The fans, the press – they all get pieces of you that I don’t.”

“That’s not true,” Drew said, shaking his head. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t see how lonely this is for me. You’re so caught up in your world that you don’t even notice.”

Drew’s frustration boiled over. “What do you want me to do, y/n? Quit? Stop taking jobs? Would that make you happy?”

His words felt like a slap, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I want you to fight for this – for us. But instead, you’re treating me like a burden.”

Drew froze, his anger dissipating as he saw the pain in your expression. “Y/N,” he started, his tone softer, “You’re not a burden. I love you. You know that.”

“Do I?” you whispered. “Because it doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Drew looked at you, his face a mix of regret and helplessness. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t say anything,” you said, retreating to the bedroom before your emotions could completely overwhelm you.

You shut the door behind you, leaning against it as sobs wracked your body. You hated this – hated feeling like you were losing him. But you didn’t know how to bridge the growing distance between you.

Drew stood in the living room, staring at the closed door. He felt like the worst person in the world. He wanted to fix it; to make you understand how much you meant to him. But he was so tired – tired of the constant pull between his career and personal life, tired of feeling like he was failing at both.

He sat on the couch, his head in his hands. The apartment felt unbearably quiet without you. The fight replayed in his mind, your words cutting deeper with each pass. I want you to fight for this – for us.

He realized then how distant he’d been, how much he’d taken your support for granted. You’d been his anchor through everything, and he’d been too caught up in his own world to see how much you were struggling.

When you woke up, the sun was streaming through the curtains, but the weight in your chest hadn’t lifted. You found Drew in the kitchen, already dressed and nursing a cup of coffee. His face lit up when he saw you, but it quickly fell when he noticed your guarded expression.

“Morning,” he said softly, hesitant.

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

“I, uh, I thought about what you said last night,” he began, setting his coffee down. “And you’re right. I haven’t been fair to you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “Drew – “

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been so focused on my career that I forgot what matters most – you. Us. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not part of my life, because you are. You’re everything to me, Y/N. And I know I haven’t shown that enough.”

Tears filled your eyes, and this time, you didn’t fight them. “I just... I miss you, Drew. I miss us.”

He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling you into his arms. “I miss us, too,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m going to do better. I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time, it felt like you were on the same page.

[fuckitupfelix]

ANON. LET ME COOK WITH THIS ANON.

third time's the charm !?

miya atsumu x male reader

word count: 1.8k

atsumu's self proclaimed "flirting" doesn't get him very far when the guy he's crushing on is absolutely clueless.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

atsumu miya is a fairly popular student. he’s quite well known among his classmates, and generally well liked. as a result, he’s grown a bit cocky. he considered himself a chick magnet— osamu jokes that he’s actually just a manwhore, to atsumu’s dismay— but the fact remains that he was attractive and he knew it, even if he never really acted on it. sure, he liked the attention, but when it came down to it, and osamu or suna ever prodded on why he didn’t get with any of the countless people leaving love letters in his locker, he would simply say they were ‘distractions’. his main focus was volleyball! he’d mess around here and there, but he would never take any of his little flings seriously. that’s what he’s been telling himself. he knows he could get with anyone, and he prides himself on that. it gives him a sense of power; a sense of control— until a certain (name) (surname) joined his class.

the teen had transferred into inarizaki in the middle of second year, and while he knew of the ‘wonder twins’ (he so aptly nicknamed them in his head) through friends and bits he’d seen online, he didn’t care much for them. as far as he was concerned, they were just teenagers. athletes with admirable skill, sure, but teenagers nonetheless. just the same as he was.

atsumu’s been pulling his hair out over the past few weeks because of (name)— his previous logic going straight out the window with the new transfer student. any and all attempts that the setter made to drop hints were futile. the guy was, to put it simply, far too dense.

ATTEMPT ONE: HOMEROOM.

upon (name’s) initial arrival, atsumu’s hooked immediately. it’s not like his introduction was anything crazy; the teacher called him in, he introduced himself, and sat down in the free seat next to suna and behind atsumu. but there’s something so appealing about the teen that draws atsumu in. the setter turns around in his seat, his usual lazy grin sprawled across his face.

“hey there. name’s miya atsumu,” he hums, before jutting a thumb towards the seat to (name’s) left. “that there’s suna rintaro.”

the expected reaction, if you know who he is— and he’s offended at the notion someone at his school potentially wouldn’t— would be absolute joy and surprise. instead, the new student responds with a, “oh. you’re the volleyball guys, right? nice to meet you two.”

suna has to bite back a snort at atsumu’s expression— his jaw dropped, his eye twitching. that’s it? “ya know who i am, yeah?” he asks, regaining his composure immediately. “ain’t i impressive?” he drawls.

“i guess? yeah. you’ve got impressive skill.” (name) responds, seemingly missing the way atsumu bristles at the lack of praise. he decides to flirt a little, wanting to throw this guy off his game.

“since ya missed some of the curriculum already, i can help ya study. get ya caught up.” atsumu says. he catches the way (name’s) face lights up and feels the pride bubbling in his chest. “really? that’d be such a big help! where should we meet up?”

“i was thinkin’ we could study at my place,” atsumu hums, voice a bit lower.

“. . . wouldn’t it be more productive if we went to a library or cafe? i also don’t wanna disturb your parents at all.” (name) replies. suna barks out a laugh, and atsumu shoves his shoulder. “shut it, suna!” he sputters.

“i’m definitely tellin’ ‘samu this later,” the teen snickers, leaning back in his chair. “‘n turn around, ‘tsumu, the lesson’s startin’.”

with a grumble, atsumu turns back to face the front, his arms crossed. there’s no way he just got blown off like that . .

ATTEMPT TWO: VENDING MACHINE.

atsumu refused to give up, even after the relentless nagging from suna to ‘quit being a pussy’ lasted for weeks on end. the two of them sat together with osamu and ginjima on their lunch, a figure slumped over the table, groaning dramatically; the person being atsumu, of course.

“could ya whine a lil quieter? i’ve gotta finish my history assignment and yer bein’ distractin’,” suna says, prodding at atsumu’s crunchy hair— which only prompted another, longer, louder groan.

“i don’t get it! how oblivious is this guy gonna be?!” atsumu whines, his cheek pressed against the cool table. his teammates were going to comment on how none of his attempts were straightforward in the slightest, but decided to let him wallow a bit longer. with a sigh, atsumu stands from his seat, shoving his hands into his pockets. he just needs to clear his head.

“d’you guys want anything from the vending machine?” he asks. they tell him their respective requests, and he exits the cafeteria to find a free vending machine. as he’s wandering about, mind filled with thoughts and plans to get (name) to give in to his ‘flirting’, lo and behold, he’s right there, crouched in front of the vending machine. a pretty face contorted into a hardened expression, eyebrows furrowed as he scans the contents, before letting out a sigh and standing. he turns in the direction of atsumu, and he jumps a little.

“oh! miya-san, hey.” he hums. atsumu scoffs lightly at that, walking closer and leaning an arm against the edge of the vending machine. at this angle, he can see (name’s) face perfectly, the light from the window on the other wall shining beautifully against his skin. it makes him feel giddy.

“i told ya, you can jus’ call me atsumu. drop the honorifics already, (name),” he drawls, his signature smirk on his face. “ya grabbin’ a drink?” (name) nods. he frowns slightly, turning back to look at the vending machine. “i can’t decide what to get, though. any suggestions?”

it’s almost like a lightbulb sparks above atsumu’s head. he has a perfect idea. leaning over (name), he comes closer to the glass dividing them and the drinks, purposefully drawing his face inches away from (name).

“hm,” he narrows his eyes, pretending to think about it, before pointing to a peach tea can, letting that same arm loosely wrap above the other teen’s shoulder. “this peach tea’s pretty good. it’s sweet, just like you,” he says, adding that last part a little quieter.

this has to be it. (name) has to hear that and take the hint, atsumu thinks to himself. so when (name) turns, his face lighting up with joy, and he responds with, “that sounds perfect, man! thank you!” he gawks at the teen's obliviousness as he punches in ‘D-3’ on the keypad, sliding the coins in. the can falls down with a thud, and he takes it, walking off as he cracks it open and takes a sip.

atsumu really cannot catch a break.

ATTEMPT THREE: NATIONALS.

atsumu's been going at it in the gym for the entirety of his lunch break, practicing his serves, sending ball after ball over the net.

“i’m done!” atsumu sputters, his shoes squeaking as he jumps up, arms stretched out as he slams another volleyball across the court. it lands out, and he grits his teeth. “he's impossible! he keeps actin' all buddy-buddy with me!”

osamu snorts at his brother's pouting. “so you'd rather (name) hate yer guts?” “that's not what i meant!” he huffs childishly, kicking at the floor. “fuck it. i’m tellin’ ‘im! ‘samu,” he whirls around to face his twin, jostling him by the shoulders.

“where would (name) be right now?” “why would i know that? it's lunch, check the classrooms.” osamu says dryly, shoving atsumu off of himself.

atsumu just nods, ignoring the action. like his life depends on it, he sprints out of the gym and towards the main building. through the side doors, past the lockers, up the stairs, to the very end of the hall, until he reaches their classroom.

“(name)!” he all but yells, sliding the door open with too much force. students whisper and murmur around the room, girls huddled up in the corners, eyes wide and hands cupped over their cheeks as they practically marvel at the sight of atsumu. (name), however, looks a bit concerned. placing his lunchbox onto his desk, his fork laid gently beside it, he stands and walks over to the door, not noticing the stares from all over the classroom. as he steps out, he shuts the door behind him.

“atsumu? are you alright?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed. “you look like you just ran a marathon—”

“we're goin’ to nationals tomorrow,” atsumu pants. (name) knew that— he's heard him and the others on the team talk about it in the halls, or when they have lunch at atsumu's desk.

“right, yeah. goodluck with that. you guys are gonna do amazing, obviously,” (name) chuckles. god, the sound makes atsumu's heart ache. he needs to get it out already, he's wasted far too much time dawdling.

“right, yeah. words don't mean much, though,” atsumu leans an arm against the wall, right next to (name). “a goodluck kiss would work wonders, though.” he says smoothly. this was his final attempt for (name).

the teen stiffens up at that. “what?” he laughs, wondering if he even heard atsumu correctly. “ya heard me. it’d be pretty motivatin’ if the pretty boy i’ve been likin’ gave me a lil goodluck kiss. just a lil peck.”

what?

“. . . you like me?” (name) asks. “since when?” atsumu huffs at that. “since forever! yer just too dense, i’ve been tryna hint at it for months now!” at that, the realization dawns on him. oh. “i thought you were just being nice!” (name) sputters, clearly trying to defend himself. atsumu lets out a choked noise.

“am i that bad at flirting?” he asks weakly. “no! i don't think so? i didn't realize you liked me at all! you should have said something!”

yes. he should have. he knows that, god knows osamu does as well. he just leans in a little closer. “so, how about that goodluck kiss, hm?” he asks after a beat of silence.

with a light scoff, (name) plants his hands on atsumu's shoulders, gripping at the fabric of his uniform shirt. it’s crumpled and smells slightly like sweat, but he decides to overlook that detail. he leans in, capturing atsumu's lips with his own. the kiss was brief, but atsumu's hands had already flown to cup the back of (name's) neck, gently tugging him forward. (name) lets out a startled noise, but doesn't move back until a few seconds later.

“so. you'll be watchin’ me at nationals, yeah?” atsumu drawls, his fingers carding through (name's) hair, idly twisting a strand.

“of course i will.”

this was so fun to write omg!!! also my reqs are open if you wanna drop any ideas for any fics !!

divider by @/plutism !!

[heelix1r]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 LET ME ROCK YOUR WORLD , BABY ! 🍒

𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹ they’ll stop at nothing from getting their hands on the prize — you. too bad for them, since you couldn’t care less.

bela is typing . . . this is purely self indulgent ,, totally not my guilty pleasure 🫡 I WILL HAVE A MAKNAE LINE VER TOO TRUST

hyung line x f!reader | drabble | a little suggestive ? | playboy!enha | college au

masterlist | guidelines

content : swearing , skinship , lots of persistence and nonstop pursuing , suggestive for hyung line only !

. ° ༘ 🍒⋆ 🪽 ₊˚ෆ [ LEE HEESEUNG ]

heeseung stood in the kitchen, his bottle nearly empty from the soju he had been drinking.

amidst the chaos, the loud noises, his shit-faced peers enjoying life without a care in the world, he was on the prowl. he could feel it in his senses that someone was out there for him. here, at this party. his eyes were narrowed as he observed the rooms before him, amidst the faces that blurred together.

he was waiting for that spark. that feeling he knew all too well — the adrenaline rush, the chase of finding someone worth his time. someone he could satisfy like no other; sure, there were others, but he had to get that experience somewhere.

as he was lost in thought, someone bumped into him as he prepared to reenter the party, and he huffed as he looked down.

he had bumped into none other than you.

“sorry,” you mumbled, reaching behind him to grab a bottle of soju. he never budged, forcing you to press your chest against his. “needed this.”

in a flash, he felt his heart race. there it was. he had gotten the signal he had been waiting for all night—and he didn’t even have to look that hard. here you were, giving yourself to him like that. it was meant to be.

“hold on, princess.” he called out to you as you turned to leave, grabbing you by your free hand and pulling him back to you with ease. it was enough to press your chest against his once more, and he felt his body light on fire. fuck, you definitely were the one.

his lips curled into a knowing smirk as he slowly grabbed the bottle of soju from your hand. “let me open that for you.” you didn’t protest as he popped the cap open in one swift motion, and he returned the bottle, soon opening another one to share with you. “i haven’t seen your pretty face around here before,” he cooed, his eyes shamelessly scanning your figure. “are you new here?”

his eyebrow cocked upwards as you took a step back from him, and he took note of the lack of amusement on your face. “no,” you responded bluntly. “i know who you are, lee heeseung.”

he felt his heart thumping wildly as you said his name. it sounded so sweet, he could taste the honey that dripped from your voice. he almost wanted you to say it again.

he couldn’t help but laugh at this predicament — god, you were so adorable. he could eat you right up.

and he really, really wanted to.

“i guess i am,” he confessed, holding up his hands as if to feign innocence. “there’s just a lot of names to remember… mind if you give me yours?” he reached over and took your hand in his, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of it. “i promise i’ll never forget it.”

“like you need to know.” shaking your head, you pulled your hand back, taking a sip of the soju in your hand. “if you didn’t know it before, you don’t need to learn it today.”

he raised both eyebrows this time. if he was unsure of your lack of interest, he certainly got the hint. he had his fair share of rejections, but this early on? it jabbed at his ego.

but that anticipation in his chest bubbled, threatening to overflow. he wasn’t one to pursue the chase for too long, but by the way you snapped at him, the way you leaned against a hip and stared him down as if he meant nothing more than a fly on the wall — shit, is he actually into that?

he cleared his throat, composing himself before pushing himself off the table. he approached you slowly, a charming smile stretched across his lips.

“well,” he began, returning your gaze with one that spoke of a challenge. “will you give me a chance to earn it then, baby?” as he spoke, his hand snaked its way around your waist, wasting no time to pull you back to him. he couldn’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him, digging his fingers a little deeper into your curves, and he felt something stirring within himself.

god, he needed to earn you.

you scoffed at his advances, pressing a hand against his chest and pushing him away. “in your dreams, heeseung.” but he noticed the way you took in the sight of him for a moment longer, a ghost of a smile creeping to the corners of your lips as you turned away.

his heart was pounding as he took another sip of his soju as he watched you walk away. his eyes lowered, to the way your hips swayed with each step. he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth, the adrenaline swallowing him whole.

this was a challenge worth chasing.

. ° ༘ 🍒⋆ 🪽 ₊˚ෆ [ PARK JONGSEONG ]

you were just so… good.

something about you screamed exuberance. you attained a higher level of goodness that every time you walked into a room, jay’s eyes couldn’t get enough of you. you were a magnet, a siren call that lured him in. you never tried to—that was just your charm.

and god, he wanted a piece of that goodness.

he found you in the library while perusing the campus, a glint in his eye twinkling with want as he watched you type away on your laptop, that mesmerizing, angelic goodness reverberating from you. you were here, alone, and his for the taking. that siren call made its way back into his brain, and he made up his mind.

slowly, he made his way over to you, his mind made up. this was his chance to move, his chance to make him yours. there were so many ways he wanted to rock your world, and it drove him crazy just thinking about it. his heart raced with fervent anticipation as he closed the distance between the two of you—you were clueless as to how hard he was going to rock your world. he was going to be the experience of a lifetime.

without hesitating, he pulled a chair across from you and plopped down, his eyes locked onto yours as he waited for you to notice him. it took a few seconds, but you sensed your presence, you stopped typing, your eyes made its way to him, and his breath hitched at the eye contact. you were right there.

“can i help you?” you asked, a growing look of confusing spreading across your features. god, you were so goddamn cute. jay’s lips curled into a smile, that same charming smile that had won the hearts of so many women before you. but none of them mattered right now—only you were in his crosshairs.

he had a lot of different ways you could help him playing in his mind, but he kept it cool. he was no stranger to playing it cool, even if the truth was that his desire to pounce surged throughout his body.

“maybe,” he hummed, leaning forward from his seat, his eyes fixated on yours. “are you interested in helping me, angel?”

“do you need… tutoring lessons?” you asked him, not catching his drift.

the idea appalled him, until he realized what that could mean. the smirk on his face made it clear. “will that include alone time with you?” he asked, pushing your laptop to close in order to get a better look at you. his gaze intensified, moving his eyes shamelessly across your profile. you were right here in front of him. he never needed you more than he did in this moment.

but you didn’t seem to catch on. you sat a little straighter, lifting your laptop back upwards. “i guess,” you replied, looking around. “if the library is empty. but it usually isn’t.”

no, not the goddamn library.

“i wasn’t thinking here, angel,” he corrected you. “i was more thinking…” he began, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “… private tutoring lessons back in your room. or mine.”

he observed your face closely, watching with excitement as he noticed a faint blush spread to your cheeks. there was no way he missed the way you slowly moved your hands to rest on your cheeks, and he bit his bottom lip as he soaked in his triumph. hook, line, and sinker.

just as he was thinking that he was finally going to have you wrapped around his finger, his eyebrows scrunched in frustration as you flashed him an awkward smile, closing your laptop and swiftly returning it into your bag.

“oh—i don’t do that.” you shook your head, standing up as quickly as you zipped your backpack. “i’m flattered, though. if you ever do need any tutoring lessons, i’m more than happy to help.” with a final wave and a smile, you were gone.

jay sat there, stunned. by the time he snapped out of it, he looked around and realized you weren’t anywhere in sight. you didn’t even consider his offer.

what the hell was that?

he ran a hand through his hair, wondering where he went wrong. there was no way you could just say no so quickly and leave, right?

he saw the way you reacted to his proposal. you were intrigued. he piqued your interest.

he wanted the chase. oh god, the things he would do to win you over. he desperately needed you, thoughts of you swirling in his head as he exited the library.

he’ll have a piece of that goodness, or he’ll die trying.

. ° ༘ 🍒⋆ 🪽 ₊˚ෆ [ SIM JAEYUN ]

“jake, what do you want?” you asked, an exasperated sigh escaping your lips as he sauntered over to you, grinning widely in return.

“i know you’re so excited to see me again, princess.” he towered over you, bending down enough to have you at eye level. “i just wouldn’t wait to see you. i’ve been thinking about you all day.”

you took a step back from him, raising an eyebrow in suspicion and shaking your head. “really?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips. “how many other girls have you said that to today?”

laughing at your response, he clutched his chest in mock pain. “you wound me,” he cried, approaching you yet again. this close proximity was so much fun, it was part of the exhilaration that came with pursuing you. “you know i’m all yours, baby.” as he said so, he quickly snaked a hand around your waist, as if to prove his point.

even as he closed the distance between you, you never wavered. “you never answered my question, jake.”

“baby, does that really matter?” he asked, pouting softly. “it’s meaningless, unless it’s for you.”

“it does, actually.” you tentatively removed his hold of your waist, the lack of amusement clear on your face. “i know you better than that, jake sim.”

even when you were so aloof, he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. it excited him, this dynamic where he could say whatever he wanted to charm you. and even though you turned him down each time, you still entertained him. it was so much fun watching your eyebrows scrunch at him, falling for each attempt to hold you close. the end goal wasn’t to have you close, it was to have you touch him, even if it was just his hand, his chest, or anything that would make you push him away. the connection was enough for him. you were electrifying to him, in a way that drove him crazy for you.

this game, or whatever it was, made jake desire you that much more. your sharp gaze makes his heart skip a beat, and the way you said his name put his mind in a frenzy. it was like a song he could put on repeat—he desperately craved the adrenaline rush you gave him.

he craved you.

“you know i can’t resist a good time with anyone, baby.” confessing to your question, he smiled innocently. “but if you really just wanted all of that attention for yourself, you know i’d do anything for you.”

“you always know what to say,” you muttered under your breath. his lips curled into a teasing smirk as he caught you rolling your eyes. you were so easy to tease, and he loved it. you were just too easy.

if only he could have you, it would make things that much more fun.

“anything to entertain you, princess.” jake leaned in closer to you, his heart racing as he cupped your face.

“come on, baby. just one day. a whole day to let me rock your world.” his eyes narrowed, trailing your body in a fit of desperation. “you know i would never disappoint you. i’ll make it worth your time, more than you could ever imagine.” his voice lowered intimately, so only you could hear him. “say yes, baby. i promise you’ll be begging to have more of me.”

he watched silently as you pressed your lips together, letting out a huff as you rejected his advances once more, taking another step back from him and crossing your arms. you never hesitated. “in your dreams, jake.”

watching you step back away from him, he stood back up straight, a sweet smile spread across his face as he placed his hands in his pockets. “i tried,” he hummed, seemingly unaffected by yet another failed attempt to get you to give him a chance. “i’ll just have to try harder. i’ll make you want me sooner or later.”

“yeah, sure.” when he tried leaning in again, you wasted no time in pushing his face away. “okay, that’s enough out of you. i’m going to class.” slinging your backpack over your shoulders, you began to walk away without looking back. jake was hoping you’d give him one last look, but to no avail. it gave him a chance to watch you walk from behind, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

but when you turned the corner and left his line of sight, his eyes narrowed. this was more than just a game. his body desperately craved you—he was addicted to the way you carried yourself around him, and it made him want you that much more. you thrilled him, made him work for something. imagining the day he would finally triumph over you kept him focused on chasing you.

he knows you’ll say yes one day if he tries hard enough.

. ° ༘ 🍒⋆ 🪽 ₊˚ෆ [ PARK SUNGHOON ]

sunghoon was warned against pursuing you. you, notoriously known for minding your own business, were the flame that ignited a challenge in him.

he just wanted to prove that he could have you.

sunghoon was on alert now, now that he had a goal in mind. just a few nice words, a smile, and his eyes focused on you was all you would need to fold for him. the satisfaction of wrapping you around his finger was intoxicating. no matter how many times he did this, it never gets old. he was addicted the rush of the satisfaction, the high of knowing he could have anyone he wanted.

he found you after a class you two shared—he never noticed you before, but after learning what he now knows about you, he had his eyes on the prize. as he approached you, an excited grin tugged the corners of his lips. he was going to have so much fun with you.

by the time he was done, you’d be begging for him. you’ll need him after this.

“hey.” you turned to face him, and he graced you with a soft, endearing smile. “the professor was talking about the final project being done in groups, right?”

he kept note of your reaction to him as he kept up the nice guy act. he was slightly ticked at your nonchalance, but nothing that fazed him.

“yeah,” you replied, “that’s right.”

he waited for you to say something else. his face dropped as soon as he realized that was all he was going to get from you.

“i see.” you were giving him nothing to work with, and he was starting to see that notoriety of yours for himself. he paused, trying to make sense of the way you looked at him without a bother, without a care. this certainly wasn’t what he was expecting.

he cleared his throat before running a hand through his hair. “well,” he began, hesitating with his words. “since the professor hasn’t chosen any specific groups… i was wondering if you wanted to work with me?” he tilted his head slightly, as if to prove his “innocent” intentions. “i think we’d make a really good team.”

instead of the nod he was expecting, you stared at him blankly. you didn’t even look slightly interested—just confused.

“why?” was the only thing you asked him.

his eye twitched. what the hell was wrong with you?

he gritted his teeth, realizing that this was going to be a lot harder than he thought. but sunghoon was not the type to back down from a challenge, and you were right here, for the taking. he’d find ways to make you more interested, and not this insufferable bluntness.

taking a new direction, he composed himself, his eyes looking at you with a newfound gentleness. this had to work. he’d drive himself crazy otherwise.

“if i’m being honest,” he confessed, “i think you’re beautiful.” as he spoke, he approached you slowly. “i’ve been wanting to get to know you for a while, and i figured working on this project together would be the perfect chance to become well acquainted together.” he spoke sweetly, trying hard to entice you to consider his offer. “and maybe after this,” he added, delicately enveloping your hand within his own, “i could take you out. you know, as a way of celebrating our work.”

he waited with bated breath. was he really this desperate for you to say yes? he almost couldn’t believe that the words really came from his mouth.

you pressed your lips together awkwardly, removing your hand away to maintain the distance between the two of you. “that’s real sweet,” you began, awkwardly offering you a half-smile. “but i already made plans with my friends to work on the project together. i’ll have to pass, sorry.”

his eyes widened as you gave him a sad excuse of a wave, turning away from him. “i’ll see you around,” you mumbled, leaving him behind to meet with your friends elsewhere.

sunghoon frowned, his eyes narrowing as he watched you disappear. he was appalled that he was almost desperate to get you to say yes, and you still said no.

he couldn’t accept it. there was no way.

he clicked his tongue, feeling his heart thumping in a way that felt foreign to him. this was infuriating—you were infuriating.

and yet, he didn’t want to give up.

he couldn’t leave it at that. he felt a newfound desire surging into his body, and he realized that he needed you, whether he wanted to or not. it angered and excited him all at once as the realization dawned on him.

you were going to be a challenge, alright. he was the fool for underestimating you.

but he would have the last laugh, without a doubt. everyone had their weakness, a point where they give in. sunghoon knew you were no different, and the thought comforted him.

he crossed his arms lightly, a twisted smile spread across his face. this was the chase he had been wanting all along. you were going to be his favorite challenge. he’d make you want him more than you’d ever want anything else—he’ll make you feel a fraction of the frustration you made him go through.

and he’ll love every minute of it.

2024 © heelix1r.

[accio-victuuri]

BURN AFTER READING. 🍭🍬

i have never made a post with this title before, but i have shared some cpn/speculation that deserve to be burned after reading. lol. this term is often used by cpfs for a candy or info related to the boys that may be “dangerous” — so you have to get rid of it after reading. but for my version of it, let’s describe it as something that is a level up from galaxy brain cpn. it’s the kind of cpn you will think twice or thrice before making up your mind about. 💫

we have (2) topics here and just a disclaimer that i am not confirming anything here. this content is for cpf only. don’t take it seriously!

(1) Who is An Huibo 安慧博?

fans noticed that there was a “stand in” credited for the we and life of us music videos and that is this person. think of it as a body double. it makes sense cause aside from that scene in WE, there are times that xz’s figure is against a backdrop so maybe they needed someone to do that. the clowning began when people were thinking about, what if the other xz in WE mv is actually WYB ⬇️⬇️⬇️

i can think of a couple of different reasons why this could be false but the strongest explanation for me is that xz will not allow wyb to so something like this. he is very superstitious. even if this is just acting, he will not allow them to act out a scene of betrayal. that for me is enough to shut this all down. but on the flipside, maybe wyb wanted him (xz) to play his first villain role opposite him in this music video.

now we have the reasons why fans think this is something worth looking at:

1. XZ and this An Huibo are the only 2 credited actors for both MVs. so it seems kinda special.

2. The director of this is LIN, the same one who directed WYB’s redmi advertisement. There are some CPNs both were made at the same studio. Which makes sense cause LIN has his own shooting studio. There is another separate CPN about this but the gist is we think this director is familiar with both of them. So XZ may be comfortable enough to bring WYB along and even include him in the video.

3. It may not be WYB himself, but he used that name to troll us. It’s so close, Huibo. Yibo.

4. I saw this explanation as well:

If "Anhuibo" is read according to the French transliteration as An Huibo, it would approximately read:

[ã чi bɔ]

·ã: similar to "ang";

·qi: similar to "wei" in Chinese, but lighter and soft;

·bo: similar to "wave", slightly shorter.

5. As a CPF, it’s so easy for our alarm bells to ring if you read that name. An alias of sorts for Bobo. some are saying he used this kind of jumbled name to combat the bad aura of their scene together. Since he is superstitious, this removes yibo’s name and identity as the stand in who stabbed XZ’s character. if that makes sense.

maybe we will know more when they release the behind the scenes video. that is if they show who this stand in is. let’s add this to the bjyx clowning vault in the meantime.

(2) XZ look-alike in the recent GRA

i was talking to @rainbowsky about this and my initial reaction was, cpn aside, i’m surprised at how people notice these things! which i actually should be used to considering turtle’s attention to detail, but still!

so here is the “evidence”

👀👀👀👀

like all other turtles, i’m someone who has stared at tons of photos of XZ. so i can totally understand why people would look twice at this person. i get i. i was staring at this photo for so long as well. however most of the cpfs comment on this is against this candy and they have valid reasons:

1. Why would he attend and be in the audience? XZ is someone lowkey so if he was there to accompany WYB, he will be backstage. Yes he is brave, but not like this — which seems almost careless.

2. There are names on the chair, so it’s not like anyone can just sit there casually.

3. Even if you believe in the probability, CPFs don’t wanna talk much about it cause it can be anti material. Saying XZ has to hide and can’t show his face in GRA. or why is he even there incognito when he doesn’t even have a project nominated. You all know how it goes, antis can twist the narrative. Plus we don’t want to accidentally expose them if this was true. We should not observe too much and post about it cause it will make it harder for them to do something similar in the future.

4. How did this person go unnoticed? Everyone had to get inside the security and there are cameras everywhere. He should have removed his cap and mask which — it’s impossible for someone to not notice XZ ( or is it? ). another thing is maybe he went to a diff entrance??

5. Some are washing it and saying it’s Yibo’s MUA.

Please take that last point i mentioned and carry it over to the reason why this look alike is sus. People are able to confirm that this is not WYB’s MUA because he was wearing a different cap. Even the hair and daresay the ears are not the same. and why would a MUA even be there? If WYB needs touch ups then they should do it backstage. If for some reason it has to be while the broadcast and recording was not on or was on a break, he should not sit there and act like a guest.

Yibo’s MUA, Wang Yiduo has been with him for years. He has years of experience being around celebrities and attending these events before WYB. So he knows the decorum. He will not sit there and act like a guest just because he feels like it.

I’m curious too, who is this person who can walk in— in an event filled with people that are dressed up and then come in with a mask and casual clothes. To be allowed to sit there. Who is special enough? Probably a celebrity? and that’s why some think it could be XZ. Even the staff and assistants during the event are dressed up which made this person stand out. As for the CPN explanation, it’s nice to think that XZ is so proud of Yibo’s nomination that he has to be there. He will find a way to be in the audience and witness this special moment. 💕

I think this can easily be analyzed more if we have the video but i don’t have time to rewatch the whole GRA and wait for this cut. Cause i wanna know if it’s even there, that’s how much we question things here! 🤣 It’s so sus to me that we only have the screenshots and no video when CPFs are notorious for having concrete evidence. personally, it reminds me of the SDC3 incident but this one is still pretty outrageous considering it is a public event.

take what you want with this information. and as always, when it comes to BJYX: ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

sources: one/ two

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 05

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, bad words, drug addiction, violence, betrayal.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

If they thought you weren’t lucid enough to make decisions, now they could be certain of it. But the truth is, you had never been so sure about anything. All you wanted now was to quiet the storm of voices inside your head, and the environment you were in wasn’t helping much.

“Please, boys, give us some privacy,” Gerard, the executive, requested, never stopping the pen spinning between his fingers. Apathetic gaze, controlled breathing, minimal facial expressions. Let’s just say your current boss wasn’t an easy man to read between the lines.

The gum in your mouth gradually lost its flavor, and the rubbery texture sticking to your molars seemed stiffer with every chew. It matched the tension in the room as glances crossed over the table, both of you waiting for the boys to leave.

“This must be some kind of terrible joke.”

“At no point did I say it was a joke,” you replied simply, eyebrows raised, making it clear how little you cared about the conversation. “I want to go back to Richmond.”

There were things you had learned from Noah without much effort, and one of them was hiding everything behind a blank face and short sentences.

“Can I know the real reason you’re acting so high and mighty, throwing away your career and, as a bonus, sabotaging my band, where I’ve invested money, time, and effort?” he asked, tapping the pen against the wooden table. “But I mean a real reason, something I should actually take seriously. Not your tantrum with one of your colleagues after he got tired of screwing you!”

His words seemed deliberately harsh, and you had expected this, knowing that any weapon he had to hurt you, he would use. But nothing moved you so easily, and he would need to try a little harder.

“Gerard…” His name left your lips almost like a song. “I’d like to remind you that this band you’re so eager to protect when you throw in our faces every dollar you’ve invested belongs to me and the boys, nothing more. I don’t remember seeing you in any of those dark attic meetings when Bad Omens was nothing!”

With utter calm, you adjusted your posture in the chair and crossed your legs, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s so easy for you to come in now, after signing a piece of paper that grants you rights to four albums and a percentage of the merchandise, and act like that makes you the owner. But that’s not how it works,” you continued, leaning toward the table. “Bad Omens owes you the last album, which I just contributed to by writing the song. So my part is done. The tour can go on without me; Noah can handle it.”

Gerard listened attentively to every word, tracing an invisible line on the table. A raspy laugh escaped him, and it was impossible not to furrow your brows, wondering what the hell the old man found so amusing.

“Someone here didn’t read their own contract, did they?” Something about that question wiped the expression off your face instantly. “When you signed with the label, there was a clause in bold letters about all members remaining until the end of the contract. The absence of one results in a breach, with a penalty of up to 40% of the band’s earnings to date.”

“You…” you spat out in disbelief. “How dare you say that when you’ve spent the last few years sabotaging our band to favor your son’s? We can’t have our own marketing team, our social media is controlled by you, and we can’t even choose our release dates!”

If the band had ever played at big festivals, the credit should go to the connections they made along the way, using them as stepping stones. From the way Gerard spoke, it almost sounded like they did an excellent job and the members were ungrateful.

Five starry-eyed kids, elated at the possibility of someone finally betting on their band. All intoxicated by the promise of a better life and being heard, with zero knowledge of how things actually worked. Easy prey for a man like him.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, spinning his chair until he was facing you again. “You want to destroy the band, the same band you arrogantly claim as yours. But let me tell you, outside that door, you and those four idiots own nothing!”

He snapped his fingers in the air.

“Most of the money you’ve earned would be spent on penalties. The name Bad Omens belongs to me until the contract ends, as do the rights to the last three releases. Noah wouldn’t be able to sing Just Pretend even in the shower without paying me for every line. Got it? Or has the crap you sniff already rotted your head?”

Your fists clenched so tightly on the table that you could hear the joints crack from a distance. Gerard had never mentioned anything like this before; nothing had ever threatened you until now. From this vantage point, you were beginning to see a different side of him.

He walked around the table until he was beside you, and the warmth of his breath stirred strands of hair on your shoulder as he leaned in close to your ear.

"If you leave, the band ends. That’s the simplest outcome. But do you really think that’s what they deserve?" he taunted. "If my memory serves me right, it’s you who owes him. Isn’t it?"

"Get away from me," you growled through clenched teeth.

"I’ll admit, this isn’t exactly a desirable prison for me either, given the mediocre artist you’ve turned into over the past few years. You ruin your own performances, bring nothing new, and are declining in every sense." His voice was laced with scorn as he gave you a pointed once-over. "Your exit would definitely be a win for the band, but that idiot Noah doesn’t see it that way, and I’m not in the mood to cancel another tour because of you two!"

Back to square one.

The band had gained traction in recent months, but not enough to make money a non-issue—especially with Gerard overloading the schedule with more shows and commitments than anyone could reasonably handle. You had savings, but doubted they’d cover even half the cost of a breach-of-contract fine.

"You’d rather keep me working against my will, even though I’m visibly showing signs of physical and mental exhaustion?"

Like an overheated device forced to run nonstop without a break or a chance to be unplugged, that’s exactly how you felt. When the weariness in your mind seeped into your body, causing pain in every part you could name, it was like a flashing red warning sign in front of your eyes.

"If we’re being honest? I don’t care what you really want. I don’t care if you have to drown yourself in drugs to keep standing on that stage. I don’t care if you wreck your skin or drink yourself into oblivion after another fight with him, as long as it leads to you writing a decent song." He sighed, almost satisfied. Gerard pulled something from his pocket—a vial with a white substance—and placed it in your hand. "Keep your word and don’t be selfish by destroying your friends’ dreams. If you truly love Noah, you know what needs to be done. He already knows you’re weak; you don’t have to prove it all the time."

The entire conversation spun in your head like a rollercoaster of words. You wanted to punch him, to shove his teeth inward and make him swallow every personal insult he’d hurled about your life and your damn history. Seeing the triumphant smirk he wore after renting a space in your mind wasn’t part of today’s plans.

Clutching the vial tightly in your hand, you turned your back on him and slammed the meeting room door behind you. Leaning against the other side, you processed everything again, forcing yourself to search for the smallest crack you could cling to in order to flip the script. Being in his grasp was suffocating, like being suspended by thin strings against a wall.

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted when you sensed someone’s presence. The scent reached you before he did, and your eyes closed as you clenched the vial tighter before shoving it into your pocket.

"I need to talk to you about what happened today, and don’t even try to tell me—" The harsh tone Noah used dissolved in a fraction of a second, his eyes shifting from furious to melancholy. "Are you crying?"

"Do you mind getting me out of here?" you pleaded, watching as Noah nodded slowly.

He walked beside you through the entire floor, waiting for you to step into the elevator before following close behind. During the descent, there was the sweetest silence, but you knew him well enough to tell he was agonizing over the words piling up inside him.

For some reason, he continued to respect your wish to say nothing.

As you reached the building’s exit, your steps froze, and Noah looked at you in confusion. When his eyes followed yours across the street, you heard him murmur something with a heavy sigh.

In a swift motion, Noah removed his cap and placed it on your head, pulling up your hoodie and sliding on a pair of sunglasses. It wasn’t perfect, but it was what you had.

Across the street, you counted six girls wearing the band’s T-shirts. They seemed like ordinary fans, phones in hand, but any group of fans had started to terrify you over time. You never knew how they’d react to seeing you, and that paralyzed you in place.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Noah tried to provide as much reassurance as he could, pulling you closer into his hoodie. It shouldn’t have been this hard—just a few steps and you’d be in the van. Nothing could go wrong.

"Noah! Noah! Noah!" one of the girls shouted excitedly as you walked in a straight line. "Can we get a picture?"

"Girls, would you mind giving us some space?" he said gently, almost surprisingly. "We really can’t stop right now."

"But we just want a picture with you!" she insisted, her tone hardening.

"And I just want you to let us pass!" he snapped, dragging you along to keep moving.

"Noah would never refuse to take a picture. It’s all her fault!" she muttered to the others. "Every time they’re close, she pushes them away from the fans!"

The last straw broke the camel’s back.

A sigh escaped your nose as you ripped off the cap and sunglasses with the same speed you broke free from Noah’s hold, spinning around to face the group.

“WHAT?” You dared to ask again, as if you hadn’t understood.

“Exactly what you heard! Every time you come back, you drive him away from the fans! Your mother is right when she says you’re a disgrace because you don’t just ruin your life—you’re ruining Noah’s too!”

“GO TO HELL, YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

Everything happened too fast. After screaming, you pounced on the girl like a leopard on its prey. Your still-injured hand, cut from smashing the mirror earlier, struck her face, the same face you relentlessly hit with blow after blow.

The flashing cameras capturing the scene didn’t faze you. You’d escaped the cage, desperate for the release of your fury. The metallic scent of her blood filled the air as she squirmed beneath you, but you pinned her torso down with your legs.

“Yes! Show them who you really are!” she shouted in between the slaps that turned her head from side to side. “A deranged lunatic who shouldn’t be allowed in society because you act like an animal.”

A strong grip on your waist yanked you back, forcing you out of your dominant position despite your resistance. Overpowering your screams, Noah threw you over his shoulder and stormed toward the van with long strides. You fought to break free along the way, but with no fans left around, he ensured you couldn’t return to the battlefield.

In the backseat, you focused on pressing the blood-soaked bandage against your fists, deliberately adding pressure. The sharp sting of pain and the remnants of glass shards still embedded in your skin kept you awake, the sensation clashing with the adrenaline surging through your chest.

“You’re going to need a stronger bandage for your hand,” he said, looking down at you. Noah was holding back a laugh with considerable difficulty. “And guess what? Everyone else left, so you’ll have to accept my help.”

“Fine.”

Noah hesitated, clearly surprised by how quickly you agreed, undoubtedly questioning if he’d heard you correctly.

“Huh… well, that wasn’t so bad. Actually, I’m impressed you still have decent reflexes,” he teased, nudging you with his elbow. “What did you say? POW! POW! POW!”

The way he pitched his voice high and reenacted the fight scene made you burst into a long laugh. Slowly, you shook your head, denying that you were giving in so easily, but there were exceptions when he reminded you of the old Noah.

“Wow!” he said, raising his eyebrows. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile at me like that.”

“Well, it’s not like you give me many reasons to.”

The van stopped in front of the place you’d called home since the breakup—a small space with furniture still wrapped in plastic, its windows sealed like no one lived there. Noah scanned the area, inspecting every detail, including the pile of unopened mail. Something on the wall seemed to catch his attention.

“You still have this,” he remarked, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he touched the lightning bolt keychain hanging among your keys. He used his index finger—the one adorned with the ring you had given him. “It was the only thing my money could buy back then. A stupid keychain.”

It was never just a stupid keychain to you.

“When you moved out, some of my things came with you, and if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like them back.”

Your mind tried to sift through what he might be referring to. Clothes, records, books—maybe even his glasses. Yes, plenty of things had come with the move.

“I…”

The words lingered, dying at the edge of your lips.

“I got rid of everything that was yours.”

“Everything?” His eyes cracked like poorly cut crystal, his voice betraying a shift in tone. “You didn’t want to keep any part of me?”

And in that moment, Noah wasn’t talking about material possessions.

“No, Noah.” You clutched your palm as if it could hold you up, resisting with everything not to let your voice break. “I didn’t want any part of you.”

Reluctantly, he smiled, but his tearful eyes betrayed him as droplets rolled down his cheeks. Sniffling to fend off the emotion, he wiped his face quickly, inhaling deeply as he straightened and looked at the ceiling.

“Thanks for today. I’ll manage from here,” you assured him firmly, taking a step back. Noah nodded and adjusted himself to head toward the door but hesitated, stepping back as if he’d missed something.

“If your plan to leave the band failed, unfortunately, I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow,” he said, his expression shifting as quickly as a gust of wind. “But I expect you to value my time this time. I can’t deal with your lack of professionalism anymore, and I won’t let it slide from now on.”

At last, he turned his back, and the door closed as you allowed yourself to collapse into a fit of sobs, sliding down the wooden frame. Through your gasps, you thought you heard something on the other side—a sound so similar, just as anguished, slicing through the walls of your chest without anesthetic.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @anarchydomainglory ; @iluvmewwwww75

[holylulusworld]

Election Time (2)

Summary: You thought he was your forever.

Pairing: Senator!Tony Stark x Wife!Reader, Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, language, wish for a child, betrayal, failed marriage, soft Bucky, pining

Election Time (1)

Election Time masterlist

Bucky’s apartment is far away from your home—or now former home. It looks like he leads a spartan life, with very few comforts and luxuries.

Still, it looks inviting and comfortable to you. There’s almost no decoration but a framed picture of you and him on the artificial fireplace, the “best bodyguard in the universe” trophy, and a plushie you won for him at a fair in his first year of duty.

“I remember that day,” he chuckles. “You didn’t want Tony or me to win a prize for you. He was shocked seeing you rock that water gun.”

“I didn’t think you’d keep it,” you say, and carefully touch the plushie sitting next to the picture frame. You still got the trophy too.”

“It was a gift from you.” Bucky shrugs. “’Cause I kept it. Why would I throw it away?” He stands next to you, dipping his head to watch you play with the diamond ring on your finger. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I—” you fail to answer him. “Honestly, I don’t know what to say. For the longest time, I felt like I was alone in this marriage. Tony was long gone; I just didn’t want to admit he didn’t want to be with me any longer.”

Bucky runs his hand up and down your back, careful to not touch your shoulder. He offers comfort without saying a word.

“What hurts is the fact that he stayed married to me for his career. Bucky, he conspired with my doctor to make sure I cannot get pregnant.” You sniffle. “I feel so violated. That’s… bodily harm. They robbed me of my baby…”

“Y/N,” he murmurs your name. “Please don’t be mad at me, but—” Bucky bites his tongue. He’s unsure about the question swirling in his mind. “What if you got pregnant and heard all this? Would you still want to have a baby with a man like him?”

You drop your gaze and choke out a sob. No. Tony would make an awful father. All he cares about are his reputation and career. He gives a shit on you, and it would’ve been the same with a child. Maybe the baby would’ve been useful in public, but nothing else.

“No.”

“Let’s not do this right now.” Bucky gives you a cracked smile. “You need a rest, and I need to inform Steve that we didn’t get kidnapped or worse.”

“He will tell Tony.” You grasp for Bucky’s hand. “Please don’t tell him. I can’t face him yet. I don’t want to either. If I had a choice, I’d run to the end of the world and never see him again.”

“Steve won’t tell your husband shit. I’m going to explain the situation.” Bucky softly replies. “I swear, not a single word will leave his lips.”

“What if he’s loyal to Tony, not me or you?” You sniffle. “What will happen?”

Bucky gently takes your hands in his. “Y/N, do you trust me?” He asks.

You look Bucky in the eyes and nod. “I trust you with my life, Bucky.” He holds your gaze and squeezes your hands. “Only you.”

“Good,” he whispers your name and hums. “I trust Steve with my life too. If I tell him to not say a word, he’ll do it without asking questions. All he needs to know is that you’re safe with me.”

“Can I stay the night? I need to think about a few things before facing my husband.” You wipe your wet eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Bucky murmurs when you start to cry again. He wraps you in his arms and allows himself for the first time to hold you for a different reason than protecting you. “You can stay as long as you want to. My place is not as nice as your home, but it’s safe, and I got plums.”

You choke out a laugh. “If you got plums, everything is good. Without them, we wouldn’t have made it.”

Bucky reluctantly lets go of you. He nods at you before saying, “I’ll call Steve now. You should get settled in. I changed the sheets, and there’s a clean flannel and sweatpants on the bed. If you want to stay here for longer, I’ll ask Steve to sneak some of your clothes out of your house.”

“Steve, we got a problem,” Bucky inhales deeply before he tells his best friend since childhood what happened this afternoon. “She cannot go home at the moment. We need to cover her tracks and come up with an excuse.”

Steve immediately reminds Bucky of his duty. He won’t rat you and his friend out, but the head of security can’t do much to cover your disappearance.

People will start asking questions soon—especially your husband.

“You are telling me no one knows about my wife’s whereabouts?” Tony yells at the head of security. Steve doesn’t even bat an eyelash. He keeps a straight face, even though he knows exactly what happened this afternoon.

“Sir, the last we know was that you left her behind after the interview. Most of the security followed you, not your wife. Your orders.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Tony. “Maybe she wanted to visit a friend, or the car broke down. It looks like her phone died. A dead battery is no reason to call the police.”

“The cops?” Tony snorts. “You think I want to call the cops only because my wife decided to skip the event? What do you think will happen if I report my wife missing? I can forget about the election!”

“I’m happy to hear that you’re worried about your wife,” Steve coolly replies. “I’ll call Barnes, ask him if he knows something. You should get some rest, Senator. I’ve got this.”

Tony watches the head of security walk out of his office. He squares his jaw. It’s the first time you didn’t accompany him. Something must be wrong, and he fears it could cost him the election.

“Steve got this,” Bucky softly says as if speaking to a scared animal. “He will keep the bloodhounds off our backs for a while. This gives you a little time to think about your next steps.”

You give him a sad smile. While Bucky was talking to Steve and went out for a late-night shopping trip, you already made up your mind. You must face Tony and confront him sooner rather than later.

You just don’t know when you’ll find the strength to look your husband in the eyes and tell him that you know…everything.

“Doll, you got to eat something,” Bucky says. He points at the plate he placed on the coffee table. “I know this is a lot to stomach.”

You look at the plate, smiling because Bucky made you smiley pancakes and cut a plum for you. “You cut a plum for me.”

“Uh—sure.” Bucky looks at the food he made for you. He knows about your habit of eating pancakes whenever you are sad. “I removed the stone and thought it’s better to cut it for you too. You know, because it looks better on the plate.”

“You’re a good cook.” You grin at Bucky. “Thank you. For everything.”

“At your service, doll…” He winks at you. “That’s my job…”

Tags in reblog.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 5

Hey! This will take a short break until December then it will begin posting on Fridays to take place of The Hellfire Exotic Club.

In this we have all Robin and Steve with a little cameo of Chrissy. Steve just needed a little bestie time.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Steve stared at the little black card in his hand. He had waited until he had gotten one in his name before using the account, even though Eddie had said that he was already an authorized user and the bank had been told that Steve would be using it immediately.

He just didn’t feel comfortable with doing so. So Eddie had one overnighted to him to make sure he could get whatever he needed as soon as possible. It was his first day off since Eddie left, Steve having refused to take one until he was sure the girls could handle it.

So here he was with his best friend standing outside of an Ikea with a black credit card and a dawning sense of dread.

“If I go in there,” he huffed, “I’m never coming back out again. You know that right? These places are cursed.”

Robin burst out laughing. “I think the power of your newly minted black credit card will act as a talisman of getting lost by the power of capitalism.”

“If you say so,” Steve scoffed. “If I don’t escape, I am totally blaming you, I hope you know that.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the entrance. “Come on, you big baby.”

They were looking at sheets when she spoke up again. “I think it’s really cool he’s allowing you decorate your room.”

Steve chuckled as he weighed the two options in his hands. “I think it’s because he really wants me to stay. If I put effort into my own space and get really settled in, I’ll be less likely to want to move.”

“Any spicy texts from ‘Daddy’?” Robin asked wagging her eyebrows suggestively.

“No.” He bumped her with his hip. “Knock that off. Yes, he is hot and sweet and funny, but I’m not going got cross that line. Especially not with him currently traveling the country with his metal band.”

“That’s too bad,” she pouted.

Then his phone rang. He put the dark blue sheets in the cart and the light blue ones back on the shelf and then he answered the call.

“Hey, Chrissy,” he greeted. “What’s up?”

“I hate to call you on your day off, Steve,” she began. “But Joanie can’t find her elephant plushy and she’s on the verge of a meltdown.”

Steve pinched his nose and sighed. “That’s because she insisted she wanted to bring Mr. Puff and Stuff, her wolf plushy instead. Snuffymuffie is still out the house.”

The sound of absolutely agony echoed through the phone line. Steve could almost feel her soul leaving her body from here.

“It’s on her bed with all her other plushies,” he assured her. “And when I come pick them up tomorrow I’ll bring mint ice cream.”

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” she breathed. “You are a saint among men!”

“No, just a seasoned nanny,” Steve replied with a chuckle. “Now go on before she decides that you’re ignoring her pain and starts wailing.”

Then wailing could be heard at full volume through the phone causing even Robin to wince from the sheer sound of it.

“Too late.”

Steve stared at his phone for a moment or two after she disconnected. He turned to Robin. “How is this my life now?”

“Don’t ask me,” she said with her hands up. “That couldn’t be me. I like kids in short spurts not long hauls.” She pointed to the phone in his hand with her chin. “So who was that then?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he replied pocketing his phone and pushing the cart forward. “She’s Eddie’s manager. Usually she goes with them when the band tours, but for the first little bit he wanted someone who the girls knew close on hand.”

“So why didn’t she take the kiddos?” Robin said, falling instep next to him.

“Because she still works,” Steve said. “So she can’t watch them during the day. Plus, Eddie had been wanting to get a live-in nanny for awhile. So this solved both problems.”

“Do you miss it?” Robin asked. “Having your own space?”

Steve wasn’t sure what she meant. He had his own space and told her so. That was what they were shopping for after all. Decorating his space.

“I meant an apartment of your own,” she said a little exasperated. “Like you really don’t have any freedom. It’s not like you can paint it all pink with white fruit everywhere.”

“I could actually,” Steve said with a shrug. “Though the example Eddie used was neon orange with brightly color rainbow dicks everywhere.”

Robin blinked at him for a moment. “But what if the girls saw that?”

“It would probably be explained as a banana and a couple of peaches or whatever,” Steve said, waving her off. “But that’s not the point. The point is that if I wanted to buy a racing car bed and make everything chrome, I could. I just don’t want to. It’s a gorgeous room, I want to add to it, not make it into a hellscape or whatever.”

“So what’s with all the nautical stuff, then?” she asked picking up the back of fake seashells.

“It’s very dark wood and deep blues,” he explained snatching them back from her tossing them back into the cart. “I makes me feel like I’m sailing on the ocean. But I also want to give it a haunted vibe, too. To go with the rest of the house.”

“I’m really going to have to see this place,” she huffed.

Steve stared at her for a moment. “I thought that was the plan. I thought you were coming over after we were done shopping to help me set everything up.”

“I wasn’t sure I was allowed to be there when it was just you,” she said with a half shrug.

“I’m allowed to have friends over,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “If I break anything, he just asks that I let him know. He’s got four year old twins, like I’m pretty sure anything fragile or expensive was put away a long time ago.”

Robin blinked for a moment as she processed that thought. “Right. What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” Steve huffed. “Now come on there are ten million miles to get through and I would like get through this before I die of old age.”

She scoffed but let him lead her through the store as he asked for her opinion on some things and to get her to mock others.

By the time they reached the check out, their cart was overflowing with all sorts of fun things for his room. Or rather, as Steve had learned. Wing. An entire fucking wing of the house was his. It had his bedroom, the bathroom, a small sitting room/library, and fucking kitchenette for entertaining guests.

He paid with the card Eddie had given him, both Robin and the cashier’s eyes went wide.

The cashier kinda gave him the stink-eye, like ‘what are you doing in an I-fucking-kea with a card like that?’ But Steve steadfastly ignored her and grabbed his packages.

“Why did we go to Ikea?” Robin asked as she helped load up his car with the stuff he bought.

“Because what I wanted was here,” Steve said rolling his eyes. “More expensive doesn’t equal better quality.” He slammed the trunk closed and got into the driver’s seat.

She rolled her eyes back at him, but wisely said nothing. He was the one with the ultra credit card and she wanted nachos from her favorite Mexican restaurant, something she would not get if she pushed Steve too far with the card. She could tell he was uncomfortable having it, so it was sure bet Eddie had insisted.

When they got to the house, Robin was in awe. She could see why Steve had fallen in love with the place. It gave off that tastefully haunted vibe of the Addams Family. Inside was even cooler as Steve showed her around. The only places they didn’t go were the Munsons’ bedrooms and Eddie’s studio and office.

But Robin was okay with that when she saw the game room, and the movie theater and the swimming pool and the actual fucking library. Here was a guy who took his money and put it to tasteful use.

“This is really neat,” she said as she flopped on the sofa in Steve’s study. “And this all yours?”

“Until they get old enough not to need me,” Steve said with a shrug. He began putting things away on the shelves. “Which is probably at least ten years off, maybe more if I’m really lucky.”

“Here’s to that,” Robin said, impressed. “Is he looking for another nanny? Because damn, I’d love a sweet place like this.”

“No,” Steve said and smacked her with his dust rag. “Get up on your feet and help me Missy!”

She leapt to her feet to get away from the dusty rag. “I surrender! I surrender!” She opened the first box and got to work sort things into proper piles so Steve could them away as he went.

“He’s looking for almost everything else though,” Steve said as he put books on the shelves. “Like everything else. A gardener or two, a couple of grounds maintenance guys, a cook, a pool cleaner, a couple of maids. All that sort of stuff.”

“Wow,” Robin said, opening another box, “that’s pretty much everyone. What happen, he fire everyone at once?”

Beat.

“Wait, what?” she said, whipping her head up to look at him. He was looking at the floor biting his lip. “What happened?”

“His ex slept with everyone on the staff who would let him,” Steve mumbled, “and those he didn’t sleep with kept it from him. With having no one trust, he just got rid of all of them.”

“Holy shit,” Robin hissed. “Way to upend the kiddos’ entire lives.”

“Ethan or Eddie?” Steve said with a shrug and grabbed the nearest pile of books to start shelving.

“Oh, totally the ex,” Robin hissed, “what an asshole. And the fact that all of them colluded to keep it from Eddie? That’s the major dick move. How long has he been struggling to do it all on his own?”

“About a year,” Steve replied absently as he tried to decide whether or not ‘Good Omens’ would go under G for Gaiman or P for Pratchett. He decided on Pratchett since it was the name on top. “I think his friends staged an intervention a la reunion tour to force him to move forward with his life.”

She snorted and shook her head. “Men. I am so glad I’m not attracted to them. Emotionally stunted morons. Well most of them anyway.”

“Anyone can get overwhelmed, Robs,” he huffed picking up his last stack of books. “I’ve gotten a few prospects for the yard and swimming pool.”

“Yeah, I was noticing how overgrown everything was,” she agreed, “even if the vibe was haunted house.”

Steve sighed and plopped down next to her. “I didn’t even show you what the gardener’s shed looked like or the pool house. He really let everything go in his grief. He didn’t say anything to me, but you can tell he took the break up really hard. This was his person. The one he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with. And then Ethan went and blew it all up with no explanation, just a gigantic mess to clean up.”

“Well, I’m glad he has you,” she said bumping him with her shoulder. “And I was only joking about the being hired too. As long as I get to visit this place and hang out by the pool on occasion, I’ll consider it even.” She held out her hand and Steve took it with a smile.

“I think we’re all done in here,” he said standing up and dusting off his knees. “Bedroom is next.”

Robin got up and looked around his little study. “I’m happy for you, Steve. I think you’re going to be really happy here.”

Steve smiled. “I already am. I know it’s only been a week since Eddie left and ten days since I was hired, but I really don’t want to screw this up.”

She hugged him tight. If anyone deserved a fairy tale ending it was her platonic soulmate. Now all she had to do was convince him to get flirty with the hot frontman of Corroded Coffin and her boy would be set for life.

They walked into the bedroom and got to decorating it. When they were done, she flopped down on the queen size bed, spread eagle.

“We should order in and watch horror movies on that massive screen,” she suggested, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve cocked his head to the side and tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Make it pizza and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Fine!” she huffed, seeing her dreams of loaded nachos flutter away.

He kicked her foot, causing her to sit up abruptly. “Buy your own nachos, you big baby. You have a job. Or at least you did yesterday, so unless there is something you’d like to tell me you can get your own.”

“You’re a real bitch, Steve Harrington,” she huffed, hopping off the bed. “Tell me again why I like you?”

“Because you get to watch Jamie Lee Curtis in full high definition projection,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and then walked out of the room.

“Wait!” she huffed, scrambling to catch up. “He has the original ‘Halloween’? You can’t just drop that on me and run, Harrington!”

Steve giggled as he ran down the stairs, with Robin hot on his heels. He cut a corner tightly, causing her to careen into the opposite wall.

“Curse you and your jock reflexes!” she hissed as she pushed herself off the wall to continue her chase.

By the time she had caught up with him, he was already on the phone with the pizza place. “At least get something with vegetables! You don’t want scurvy!”

“And one medium raspberry lemonade and one large cherry limeade,” he said with a wink at her. “Yes that will be all.”

“All that sugar!” Robin huffed. “I don’t know how you don’t kill over from sugar shock or something with all the sweet stuff you eat and drink.”

“Because I exercise and eat right most of the time,” Steve said back. “Diet culture is such BS, your body needs sugar to function. It’s why I put it in my tomato sauce when I make it from scratch.”

“Betrayal!” she cried and flopped on the sofa. She tilted her head for a moment and then melted into said sofa. “This is a really soft sofa, Steve. Everything here is so soft. I don’t know why but I pictured everything being so hard and stiff and uncomfortable.”

“Eddie certainly isn’t your stereotypical rich guy,” Steve agreed. “And I think this place was soft before the girls, because I think Eddie likes soft.”

Robin looked at her best friend fondly. She could tell he was already in love with this Eddie, he was just very deep in denial.

They had their movie night complete with pizza and drinks. One of the pizzas even had vegetables on it. For her. And when Steve dropped her off the next morning, she was content in her knowledge Steve wasn’t just going to do well there, he was going to thrive.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

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