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eddiethebrave · 1 day ago

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secret admirer part twenty-seven

1731 words

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“Steve!” Tommy all but screams into his ear and he tries his best not to flinch. “What’s the rush, man?” he asks, using his grip to spin Steve to face him.

Steve rolls his eyes and shrugs the teen’s arm off from where he slings it over his shoulders. He crosses his arms. “There’s no rush, Tommy - just not really anything to stick around for, you know?”

Tommy stares at him blankly for a fraction of a moment before taking a step back and chuckling. It’s kind of forced, if Steve’s being honest.

Tommy throws his arms out and gestures around them. “Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it?” His arms drop back to his sides and any hopes Steve had of this being a short interaction are thwarted when Tommy leans against the bimmer with a sigh.

“Anyway, what’re you doing right now? ‘Cause I was thinking about that movie that just came out; y’know, the one with the dancing? They’re playing it at the Hawk tonight.”

“Footloose?” Steve questions, curiosity piqued. He's been wanting to go see it since it began screening - which Tommy definitely knows. “Oh man, I totally would. It’s just my… my mom. Yeah. She, uh, has me doing a bunch of shit around town today. Won’t be home ‘till way later.”

It’s not his best work, but it’ll have to do.

Tommy nods along, no stranger to seeing Steve act as his parents’ errand boy. “No worries, man. Maybe next time,” he suggests.

For the first time in this interaction, Steve relaxes. His shoulders slump and he slaps Tommy’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Next time,” he agrees with a grin.

Once Tommy has bound off to God knows where, Steve finally sinks into his seat and lets out a sigh as he starts the car.

Here goes nothing.

When he gets home he almost expects his house to have changed since he’d left this morning - he prepares for the worst but the house is as spotless as it always is. His parents make sure of it.

Well. His parents make sure he and Megan take care of it. On top of Steve’s chores, his parents hired Megan to stop by every weekend to deep clean the house.

Steve also suspects his parents ask her if he’s doing his part; there have been multiple occasions where he decides to slack off a little and he sure gets an earful whenever it is his parents next grace their son and Hawkins with their presence.

Hilariously, Steve recalls the joke Eddie had made on Monday about the maid taking the week off.

Maybe he won’t mention Megan to Eddie.

Speaking of Eddie - he should be here any minute now if he didn’t make any stops along the way.

Just as the thought crosses his mind, he hears the rumble of an engine making its way up his driveway. Steve freezes in panic even though he knew this was happening. He jumps at the loud - albeit muffled - sound of a car door slamming. He still hasn’t managed to get his shit together by the time a knock sounds from the front door.

He doesn’t want to keep him waiting on the front steps, though, so he makes his way over and swings the door open with a smile that drops when he’s only met with the back of Eddie’s head.

“Eddie,” he beckons - it comes out more like a question.

The boy in question turns from where he’d been looking, raising his brows and throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “‘Your neighbors always this vigilant, or is it just for little ‘ol me?”

Peering over his shoulder, Steve winces and waves at the house across the street where Mrs. Robinson is standing on her porch with her arms crossed.

She had taken it way too seriously when his mother had said You’ll keep an eye out for my Steve, won’t you? the first time the woman had called her with ‘concerns.’

Not wanting to give her the chance to march over and demand answers, Steve grabs Eddie by the arm and hastily pulls him past the threshold. Steve shuts the door and locks it for good measure. He peers out of the peep hole and once he’s sure they’ve mostly dodged her ire, he exhales and turns to Eddie at his right.

“... So,” Steve starts, running a hand through his hair, “are you hungry?”

Eddie shakes his head with his lips parted slightly.

Steve forces himself not to let his eyes linger there.

“Thirsty?”

Steve’s enraptured as Eddie’s face slowly creases up with a grin. He shakes his head again. His hair sweeps across his shoulders with the movement.

Eddie’s head tilts down and Steve follows his gaze to where his own hand is still latched around Eddie’s forearm. The grip is light, and Steve realizes in horror that he's begun to - fucking - caress him there with his thumb.

Steve rips his hand away and holds it to his chest like it’s wounded. “I- Uh-” he stutters. “... Coke? Water? Juice?” he echoes Eddie’s question from when they’d been at his house.

Eddie huffs a laugh and shakes his head again, this time in amusement. “If you insist, I’ll do a Coke. Where are we working, Steve?”

Steve releases his hold on his breath and tries to relax. It mostly works.

Steve’s thought this through. If they worked in the dining room, it would feel too formal and if they worked in his bedroom, it would feel too informal. The sweet spot has to be the living room.

He leads Eddie there and gestures to all of the seating options. It’s sort of a test he’s found himself giving to his guest over the last couple years. Steve does this to everyone he has over. Where somebody sits can tell you a lot about how they’re feeling.

Out of all of the options - the couch, the loveseat, the accent chairs, the recliners - Eddie drops his bag to the floor in front of the coffee table and then flops down right beside it. Steve has to say… he hadn’t even considered that an option.

He tilts his head and peers down at the other teen in consideration. What the hell does the floor mean he’s feeling? This is unprecedented.

Steve stands there dumbly until Eddie is settled and finally looks back up at him.

“The service here is really slow, man,” he says with a grim look. Steve blinks in confusion, and Eddie must read it on his face because he laughs lightly.

“The Coke, Harrington,” Eddie reminds him.

Steve’s face heats up in embarrassment. “Oh.” He turns without another word and makes his way to the kitchen. He grabs a Coke for Eddie and a bottled water for himself. Before he returns to the livingroom, though, he opens the freezer and sticks his face in there to cool it down.

On his way back, he grabs his backpack from where he’d dropped it in the foyer. Eddie has already gotten started on his work. Steve moves one of his mom’s ceramic coasters closer to where Eddie’s sitting and drops his drink there before doing the same for himself.

Eddie thanks him, but his attention is already focused on his paper.

Steve decides to follow Eddie’s lead and lowers himself to the plush carpet. he sits with his back against the recliner, about five feet away from the other boy.

Steve takes his time gathering his supplies from his bag.

He’s been anticipating Eddie bringing up his crush and the notes since he figured it out in the first place. He kind of wants to just get it over with so he can stop bracing himself for a conversation that never takes place.

He’d understood the silence at first - when they were at school and then the diner. This week has thrown him off, though. They’ve been completely alone and Eddie’s had plenty opportunity to talk if that’s what he wants.

So, Steve has come to the conclusion that Eddie doesn’t wanna talk about it - doesn’t wanna acknowledge it out loud.

He knows he should be grateful. Really. He should count himself lucky that he hasn’t became the town pariah yet. It’s just.

Why doesn’t Eddie wanna talk about it? Why did he put the ring back on? What does it mean?

Just like most of the other times they’ve met up like this, they don’t talk much as they work. After about ten minutes of painstakingly refining his drawing, listening to nothing other than the sound of pencils scratching on paper and both of their soft breathing, Steve sets his drawing face-down on the carpet and rises to his feet.

He can feel the weight of Eddie’s gaze on his back as he makes his way over to the record player. The undivided attention is hard sometimes - it feels different than when Eddie’s looking at him periodically as a reference for his drawing (don’t even get Steve started on the effect those looks have on him).

He takes a deep breath to steady himself as he flips through the music options. Steve doesn’t put much thought into his choice - he’s kind of expecting Eddie to be a music snob no matter what he plays. When he replaces the old record with the new one, though, he can’t help but bite his lip in amusement as he imagines the boy’s reaction.

Steve places the needle in the correct spot and hums along to the opening notes of Time After Time. His head bops to the beat as he makes his way back to his spot. He doesn’t look to see what Eddie thinks of the song, but he can feel his gaze. Only when Steve hears the sound of pencil on paper under the music does he chance a look up. He can’t be sure, but he thinks Eddie’s lips are quirked up at the sides. Is he laughing at him? ‘Cause, worth it, honestly.

With the music playing and the boys so focused on their work, neither of them hear the sound of an engine growing closer as it makes it’s way up the drive. Nor do they notice the slam of a car door. Only when the front door to the house opens and closes do they tune in to the intrusion.

Then, “Harrington, you here!?”

tag list (closed)

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#...i'm back #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #tommy hagan

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bluetimeombre · 2 days ago

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'Bye Sebastian!'

You had stared in the most of the movies of all. The cast love you, maybe some men love you more than others (fem reader)...

[this is a complete self indulgence piece of writing for me. I have loved marvel for YEARS and I always watched interviews of them all and wanted to be apart of it, it's hilarious. So this is just some of the best parts that I love, for you. Would love to do a part two...]

YOU AND MARVEL... Marvel and you. It was like bread and butter. Like peas in a pod. You were the youngest of the original seven, you were in the most movies. You were the most loved, cast and crew and fans.

Perhaps some loved you more than others...

SEBASTIAN, MACKIE & YOU,

thirst tweets,.,

Quite possibly one of the most chaotic and best loved trio's of the Marvel cast. The three of you played friends of Captain America, in some cases, maybe some of you played something a little more. But behind the scenes, the three of you made the perfect trio.

Sebastian's quiet soul with your constantly gushing one. And Mackie was there... usually to bring out the worst in you.

Once, when the three of you were staring in a Marvel show and you were all forced to read thirst tweets to each other, it got too sweet.

"I've done this far too many times," you said as Sebastian held the bucket out to you.

He grinned. "And yet the people still find the filthiest things to say about you."

"Preach," added Anthony.

Sebastian dug in first. "I want someone to look at me the way Sebastian Stan and Y/N look at each other."

The both of you aww and pull little faces to each other. You'd started the Marvel journey together, so maybe you and Seb had soft spots for each other.

Mackie was off to the side. "That's great.... that's great."

"I look at Mackie with pure loathing, so," you shrug.

Mackie takes another piece of paper. Reading: "Anthony Mackie you cutie patootie, come sit on my face I will eat you ass like a fudge brownie."

"Oh my-" you can't hide your shock as you cup your hand over your mouth and hide your blushing face.

"First of all," said Mackie. "Send a ticket bitch, let's do this."

You shake your head, still getting rid of your blush.

Sebastian's turn is next. "I don't even know what this means- Sebastian Stan is one thicc B-I-H."

You and Anthony nod. "Bitch," you both inform him.

"Right," he nods. "That's-that's kind."

"So true," you add, going in for yours. "I just wanna be Y/N's stay at home husband. The dishes will be clean, the laundry will be done and her ass will be ate- what is with all this ass eating," you look around as Mackie laughs, clapping you on the shoulder. "But thank you, I guess."

"Dog, that's already me," said Mackie, stealing the paper from you and throwing it into the distance.

You look aghast. "Anthony Mackie is not allowed anywhere near my ass."

Sebastian took another paper and started to read, chuckling to himself. "Listen, when Y/N said 'those steal blue eyes let you know where home is, that's my safe place,' about Sebastian's eyes, bitch I felt that."

"Well done for reading Bitch this time," you nudged him, proud.

Sebastian playfully glared at you, flexing his jaw like he would bite. "They didn't spell it out like that last time!"

"How do you feel about that?" asked Anthony.

Seb only meant to glance at you to share a smile but it turned to a smirk.

Of course Mackie caught up on this. "Don't look at us like that, man, you gotta look in the distance when you talk to us."

Sebastian blushed. "No I feel good, It's a good feeling, it's good."

Mackie took another paper. "Thinking about Anthony Mackie taking a nap on Sebastian Stan's couch, don't bother me."

You start cackling immediately, looking to Seb who laughed as you immediately knew where it was going.

"You have a nice couch man," said Mackie, smirking and playing it on.

"You've put this on the internet-" said Seb. "You've never seen it!"

"You have a nice couch homie!"

"He's never been to my house!" Sebastian told the camera firmly.

"That's a lie-" said Mackie as you continue to laugh to yourself in between them, "alright fine, you scared of people breaking in because of your couch, alright fine it's an awful couch." Anthony gave the camera a stern look.

"The only person to have been on my couch is Y/N and that's how it stays!" said Seb.

It's your turn to look to the camera and win, throwing your thumbs up and mouthing 'I win.'

escape room,.,

There was another time when you proved how great of a trio you were, even in a group of other people. When you, Sebastian, Anthony, Letitia and Benedict all had to do an escape room.

"Oh it's for real, they're locking us in guys!" said Letitia as the door locked and red sign flared.

Dramatically, you pulled on the handle, leaving it with all your weight. Sebastian behind you laughed.

"Chances are they don't make it out in time," Joe Russo, the director of the film and also the one to suggest this, said through the walkie talkie, but didn't realise they were linked into the room.

"Hey!" you protest.

"Find the stones," he said.

You nod and head over to Benedict Cumberbatch, patting his shoulders. "This is all you Sherlock." You instead made it your mission to just be annoying with Mackie at your side, the camera's picking up on all of it.

Eventually, Sebastian joins you and the two of you spend a good time looking around the room, trying to figure it out together.

"You better check your draws, Y/N," said the voice of Joe Russo.

Mackie clicked at you. "Y/N, take your pants off, dude."

You act to oblige but Sebastian had already found the real clue to whish Mackie whines loudly at the fact you weren't taking your pants off.

You and the group get the cards of the stones, Sebastian adding more and more as he finds most of them. Benedict finds the last one in the clock.

"Ah, that's what I was gonna do!" said Mackie.

"This is too much fun," said Russo.

"We can hear you!" you call as everyone else tries to find out the code, Sebastian alone in a corner.

"What's the number of your apartment?" asked Letitia. "Strange?"

"How's he supposed to know, he shot that film five years ago," you joke.

As everyone still tired to find out the code, you headed over to the camera man, whispering in. "I'm being really helpful."

Seb joined your side, arm ghosting your back. He hardly minded the camera crew as he asked you. "Do you think lunch will be after this?"

In that time, the code had been found, a laser had been pointed and Mackie had thrust a card into your hand, which you waved around without knowing what it was for.

"Y/N, you're holding the de-coder," said Russo.

You look around helplessly and shrug, leaving Sebastian laughing at you. But then came Anthony's desperate call for you two.

"It's this way!" the two of you chase after him, laughing all the way.

red carpets,.,

You were in the middle of an interview during the Civil war press conference, where names were being screamed and stars were flooding the carpet.

It was all going well before Mackie caught wind of you being around, and he walked over with Sebastian to greet you.

"Woah," they said.

"Oh no," you shake your head.

"Y/N, man you're looking good," said Mackie, standing up on the platform with you. "Man, oh man, let me tell you something-"

"No!" you chuckle as he throws a friendly arm around your shoulder. You notice Sebastian watching and through a helpful look at him.

"You ever see someone this good looking walking down the street, they gonna get arrested, cause they're killing everybody," said Mackie, "Look at this, pow-pow, pow-pow, pow!"

"Why don't I just let you interview each other?" said the interviewer.

Mackie took it as invitation to steal the mic and to urge the lady on, pulling up Sebastian instead. "Go on then, go on, get outta here, get outta here!" He took to looking in the camera. "Hey how's it going, I'm here with Sebastian Stan interviewing Y/N at the Civil War premier, one of the stars of Civil war-"

"One of them?"

"Tell me, Y/N, how's it going? How you feeling tonight?" asked Mackie while Sebastian couldn't do anything but stare and fix his blazer, trying to look his best.

"Next to you? Strong."

Mackie giggled.

"I'm breathing in your cologne right now, it's strong, it's good," you pat him on the shoulder.

"Hey, i'm not a player, I just shower a lot," he said to the camera.

You laugh and slowly pry the mic from his hands. "I wanna know about these two gentlemen over here, mainly Mr Sebastian Stan, tell me Sebastian, who are you wearing tonight?"

You lean across Mackie, acting as if he wasn't there to which he pretends to take offense for. It takes Seb a moment of two to stop his blushing and smiling to answer you.

"Prada, Y/N."

"Ohh, a lot of Prada," you and Mackie cheer together. "That's not me that's Jay-Z. Little black, on grey, on black, I like it," went on Mackie.

Sebastian looked to you. "Do you- do you like it?"

Mackie helped you aim the microphone to your lips.

"I love it. Love the pocket-square, really brings out your eyes."

"Someone said to me, you look like you just came out of a Chinese restaurants, I said- maybe I did!" he joked, causing you and Mackie to hold on and laugh.

"Ok so what about your workout routine?" you ask, as a way of really hitting the hard questions. You cross your arms over your chest and talk into the mic, practically blocking out Mackie, "I think the people want to know how you get all hot and sweaty. I mean- what's your chest at now, a forty-eight?"

Sebastian stops you, an accusing finger in your face getting closer. "Hang on, the last time I saw you you said I was getting smaller!"

"No, actually. I think the last time I saw you I promised I'd climb you like a tree, that-"

Mackie waved his arms around, stealing your microphone as you and Sebastian laugh, teasing each other away from the ears of the mic. "Woah, woah, woah... woah!"

And it happened again, a few years later at the premier of Endgame.

Sebastian and Anthony's character had dusted, yours hadn't so you didn't have much time to spend with them, but when you did, you all made sure to make the most chaos you could.

You creep up on an interview with Sebastian, slowly wrapping your arms around his waist and standing there, non-chalant.

It took Sebastian all of one second to know it was you.

"Oh my god, you!" he embraced you quickly, smoothing down any wrinkle he made in your outfit.

"How are you?" your voice is muffled from his side as he holds you.

"I was about to get my dance on, i'm so glad you're here!" he said, letting you go but keeping an arm around your waist.

"Your dance on?" you look between him and the interviewer, quickly saying hello.

"Yeah, she snapped, but it meant that I dusted, you know," he said.

You shrug. "Oh and you just wanted to show us your moves?"

"Yeah I was getting ready," he said. Then. Sebastian Stan took a step back, a hand on your shoulder and looked you over. "Wow, you look amazing!"

"So do you, you know your suit matches your eyes."

Suddenly, from behind the two of you, Anthony Mackie popped up and plucked the microphone from the lady and the two of you make room for him, chuckling.

"Let me tell you something- we're here-" said Mackie.

"Not again!"

"We're here with Sebastian and Y/N, here today. One the mark of greatness, another the measure of beauty. How does it feel- no, actually, Y/N, do you have any funny antidotes from what happened two years ago on set?"

You nod. "So many, you weren't in any of them," you said in the mic as Anthony pushed it closer and closer into your face.

"Was there anyone you hated on set?"

You pretend to think about it. "Um yes, Chris Hemsworth."

"Is there anyone who hates you?"

"Yes, Chris Hemsworth."

"No," Sebastian chuckled, "no one hates you."

"You're wrong, Chris Hemsworth."

"Where is he tonight?" asked Mackie, again shoving the foam of the microphone into your face.

"Far away from me," you say deep into it.

"Ok, cool, cool, i'm gonna make sure to interview Hemsworth tonight, how does that make you feel?"

"Please do."

Sebastian boasted about Mackie's suit, pointing out the pocket square tucked in his blazer pocket. "You got my Christmas gift to you?"

"I did," said Mackie, grinning, turning to explain to those listening. "He sent me a pocket square of Y/N's face."

You gasp. "I want one!"

Mackie laughed. "I put it in my pocket, hold it close to my heart."

The three of you continued to chat, bringing up the escape room you did earlier in the day.

"It was my first time doing an escape room, actually," Sebastian informed the two of you.

Mackie and you gasped, dramatically. "Mine too!" you both said.

"Oh my god I think they're in love," Said the interviewer.

"Woah, that's so crazy," Mackie said. "You know the three of us, we're just so- it's so- we just have so much in common!"

"It's a beginning every time!" Sebastian grinned.

"It's like every time we meet, we're meeting all over again!"

Sadly, the interview had to come to an end. As Sebastian was pulled away, he gave you one last hug and a kiss on your cheek, promising to find you later.

"Ay, you know this dude?" Said Mackie, watching Sebastian's assistant tug him away.

"Aw, see you soon, miss you- Bye Sebastian!" you call after him.

DID YOU SURVIVE THANOS'S SNAP?

Buzzfeed had the cast of Avengers Endgame sit and take one of their quizzes, whether or not you survived the snap of Thanos.

Finally, they paired you and Chris Evans together. Despite the two of you having been best friends and staring as them too since the first Avengers, it was rare they had you paired. And especially alone.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," Said Chris Evans.

"And i'm the better Chris, Chris Hemsworth," you said. "And we're here today with Buzzfeed to challenge whether we're pussies or not," you said, sure your little curse would be bleeped.

"Yeah, the thing-" said Chris, trying to snap his fingers, "the Thanos-"

"I'm so glad you know these movies well," you joke at the fact he couldn't even call it what it was.

Chris huffs a laugh before you start.

'Which infinity stone would you most like to get your hands on?'

"Good question," said Chris.

You raise your hands and pretend to sup his bicep. "These stones right here!"

He does his famous Chris laugh. "Ok, i'm going mind."

"Boring, i'm gonna go time."

"That's so-" said Chris, making an act of flipping the table. "That's such a you answer."

You frown, "thanks?"

'Which Disney character would you chose to join the Avengers?'

"Oh this is such a you question," you tell Chris, watching to see who he'd pick.

Chris leant back in his chair, resting his hand on the back of yours. He looked at you through his lashes. "Who do you think I'm gonna pick?"

You look back at the options, weighing them up. "You're so gonna go genie."

So he clicked the genie, because you'd said so. "What about you, huh?"

"I mean he's not gonna be helpful at all but I love stitch, I-I have a soft spot for stitch," you say, circiling the guy.

Chris again beamed. "I knew you were gonna say that!"

"You just know me so well."

'Which word would your closest friend describe you as?'

"Perfect!" said Chris for you.

"That's not an option," you tell him.

Chris pulls a face. "Well it should be for you. Actually, I don't think we're that close," he joked.

"No," you chuckle, playing along. "I only met you today."

You and Chris thought about it for a while.

"Why can't I just chose all the above?" you joked but Chris only seemed to agree with you.

"Yeah, can I just pick all of them?" Asked Chris. "Ok, no, how would you describe me?"

You look over at him, leaning on the table. "Dreamy. But that's not on there so... you're loyal, but you're funny, you're successful, i'd go loyal." you and Chris had first become friends when you were both on the Avengers set, terrified at the scale of the world you were joining. He'd joined you for lunch and ever since, whenever you did movies together, you had lunch dates together.

It still took Chris a long time to decide for you but you got there in the end.

'Which is your favourite MCU dynamic?'

There was a picture of Tony and Bruce, Steve and Bucky, Hope and Scott, Thor and Loki, your character and Bucky, your character and Natasha and then Gamora and Nebula.

"Why aren't we on here?" whined Chris as you chuckled.

"So now I just have to pick who I love more, Bucky or Natasha," you said.

"Or you could pick someone else," suggested Chris.

"No, I have to pick me."

"I'm boycotting cause you and I aren't on here."

In the end, you chose yourself and Bucky.

'And finally, what would you say is your personal character flaw?'

"Well, we don't have any so where's none?" said Chris, circling the choices.

"Yours is gonna be that you joke around too much, I can tell you that now," you told him.

Chris chucked. "Maybe I can be a bit too reckless," he said. "But you, you're- you have no faults, this is rigged!" he waves his arms out wide.

"No, maybe i'm... maybe I care too deeply?" you suggest.

Evans rolls his eyes. "That's not a fault, that's just sweet."

Finally you got to the end and your fates were decided.

"We didn't survive!" you yelled, looking at both yours and Chris's fate. "This is all because I chose stitch isn't it?"

AVENGERS ENDGAME

The Endgame press tour was wild and full. But the best part was spending it with the original guys, the one's you started it all with and would end it all with. Robert, Chris, Chris, Scarlett, Bruce and Jeremy were all your little crew.

And doing press with them was always exciting to say the least.

All of you were stood behind a podium, you were sandwiched between Chris Evans and Robert Downey as the Russo brothers determined the game.

"Most likely too," read the Russo brothers.

"Most likely to need to have a nap," you said and threw up your own face.

"Most likely to nap with you!" added Mark Ruffalo, adding his own face.

"Alright Avengers, we'll give you examples, you vote on a fellow avenger who fits each scenario- here we go!"

It almost seemed- to the camera's- that none of you were paying attention as Robert made smooch faces to the closest camera and you and Chris Evans used your cardboard cut out faces to make them kiss.

"Who is the most likely to make you laugh in the middle of a scene?"

A lot of them held up themselves, you held up Evans and Downey. Scarlet picked you and reached over to hit you over the head with the picture of your own face.

"Five hundred points to Renner for using all of them," said the Russo brothers.

Ruffalo had Renner. "I said Renner, he does an amazing squat thrust."

"Oh yes!" both you and Downey got excited at the prospect. "Give it to us Jeremy, give us your warm up, will ya."

And he obliged, dramatically lunging and squating and the such as you all cheered him on.

"Let's not over-do it, you're not thirty anymore," you told him.

"Who is the most likely to stop to read a lost dog poster?"

"Oh my god. Is that even a question?" you throw up Evan's cut out of his face, as does everyone else.

"What a weird question," said Scarlett.

"Chris Evans is a lost dog."

"He has a lost dog!" Ruffalo agreed with you. He reached over for the two of you to hold his hand and slowly, together, say your lines as if they were rehearsed and from the movie. "Someone, somewhere, lost their dog to Chris Evans."

"Yeah his whole facebook page is dogs," agreed Hemsworth.

You look down at the panel of them all. "What's facebook?"

Next was for you all to decorate your own cupcakes, the cupcake challenge.

"Using the ingredients in front of you, you each have three minutes to design a cupcake basked upon your own character!"

Everyone started piping immediately, or throwing decorations on. To your right, Downey went straight with yellow and blue, making a mountain of the icing on his cupcake while most others started moulding things.

You leant down when Robert told you to and opened your mouth and he piped in a long line of icing that had you gagging from the sugary taste.

"Y/N, what are you doing down there?" The Russo brothers asked you.

When you turned to face them, it was like glue in your mouth and blue icing was smeared on your lips.

"It's always messy to start but it comes out in the wash," said Downey.

Eventually you managed to do something with your cupcake.

"Hey, Chris you've got it on your shirt!" you told him, pointing to the area.

When Evans looked down to check the stain, you flicked his nose up, getting icing on him. It ended up with a red nose for him and he splatted his cupcake decoration on your cheek, causing you to gasp and stand, shocked.

"I feel sick, I ate too much fondant," Hemsworth complained.

"Are you just eating?" asked Scarlett.

Chris giggled. "Hmm, yea."

By the end of the three minutes, everyone but Evans and you had a cupcake to show.

"I see Evans went for the Captain America shield on Y/N's cheek, but Y/N where's yours?"

"Oh, I ate it."

MUSICAL BEERS,

an indiscreet make-out,,,

"We're about to play, musical beers, but for that we're gonna need a few more players, please welcome from the stars of Captain America, Civil war, Elizabeth Olsen, Paul Bettany, Sebastian Stan and Y/N!"

The four of you had been invited on to play musical beers with Jimmy Fallon. A game like musical chairs but when the music stops you have to reach for the closest beer cup and down it. You were joining your other Civil war star, Jeremy Renner.

As you all walked out, Sebastian dramatically un-did his blazer while the rest of you went to dirty- game talk.

"I want her out first!" Jeremy pointed at you as you copy his warm-up lunges, causing him to chuckle and push you over.

Eventually, Jimmy wrangles you into spaces. You find your spot and Sebastian slides in behind you, watching you closely.

As the music began, a rather creepy circus type music you all started prancing around the table, taking long strides and pausing too long at each cup.

Your hand kept ghosting the beer cup in case the music stopped.

"You can't do that!" yelled Sebastian and Jimmy.

You groaned loudly and rushed around to the next one. As soon as the music stopped, you grabbed and downed it along with the rest of them, all but Paul Bettany.

You look to Sebastian as you crush your cups and he takes yours, throwing it in the middle, the bin. "I hate beer."

While Paul leaves the game, complaining how this couldn't happen- he was English! You all take your spots, this time you keep a close eye on Elizabeth as she laughs at your determination.

The music starts again and quickly Jimmy falls out the game, practically lunging across the table to reach the beer. You make a dramatic move out of downing it in front of him.

Then there was you, Elizabeth, Sebastian and Jeremy left and only three beer cups.

As the music sped up, Elizabeth reached for the cup, spilling it.

You saw who do it, determined not to lose, you took a gulp of the beer. But the music was still playing!

You look around helplessly.

"Spit it back! Spit it back!" Jimmy calls.

You do so and move on, lucky enough to reach the next beer cup and for Jeremy to be out.

With no music, Sebastian stood in front of the cup you had spit back into. He looked down at it, chuckling to himself.

"I thought the music stopped!" you said, cringing.

"You can't," said Elizabeth, already having downed her beer.

You all stood, watching as Sebastian picked up the cup. He looked at you last time and took the drink. The crowd cheered, the cast laughed and you approached Sebastian as he tipped the cup upside down to show he'd drank it. "I'm sorry," you giggled.

Sebastian wrapped an arm around you. "Best beer of my life," he joked.

The game continued and the two beer cups were placed right next to each other.

"What?" you gasp.

Quickly the the game began again and Elizabeth rushed along side the empty space as you and Sebastian watched each other, checking each others move. He rushed around and then you quickly followed like you were chasing him down until you were at the beer cups.

The music stopped and Lizzie Olsen just grazed your hand by the time you and Seb had picked up the beer cups and downed them.

Lizzie went off laughing and you hugged her before taking your place for the final game.

"I'm slipping- i'm taking my shoes off for this one," you take them off and Lizzie takes them for you as you and Sebastian stand at opposite ends of the table.

"We've already made out!" he called over to you as the cup was placed in between you.

"Yeah, winning's pointless at this point," you said as the music began.

You moved easier, quicker, keeping your eyes on Sebastian although Lizzie and her laughing kept distracting you. You laughed, warning her and taking your eyes of the ball for a moment.

Sebastian was right behind you, hand on his hip and pushing back his blazer as he lingered before you both had to move with the music again.

The music went fast then slowed down, as you both kept reaching and letting go off the cup.

As Sebastian ran back around he reached for the cup as the music slowed and slowed and slowed, but never stopped.

He let it go, looking at you confused.

But as no more notes were played, you grabbed the cup and downed it.

Sebastian was already reaching for you and he barrelled into your body, holding onto you as you drank it and chucked the cup away. "No!" but in his 'dismay' he picked you up and jumped up and down celebrating your win.

"Sebastian made out with Y/N, I think he's the real winner!" said Lizzie.

YOU AND TOM HOLLAND BEING THE KIDS OF THE CAST

You and Tom Holland had hit it off instantly since meeting. Your minds were alike, your humour, everything. Honestly it was kind of frightening how quickly it went well for you guys.

fuck, marry, kill?,.,

On the infinity war press tour, everyone was given all three choices of Chris: Hemsworth, Evans and Pratt. The rest of the cast answered with such:

"Oh I don't like this game cause it has the F word in it," - Pratt.

"We-we we won't use that word, will we? We'll er make love? or just hang out with, cause they're all men and i'm married," - Hemsworth.

"This is a Disney movie," - Winston Duke.

But Tom Holland was ready.

"Fuck. Marry. Kill." Hemsworth, Pratt, Evans. And he didn't take a minute to think about it. "Sorry Evans."

"You had that answer pretty prepared."

"Yeah, a bit too prepared," he laughed.

But he wasn't the only one.

When it got to you, you only cleared your throat and answered.

"Kill. Fuck. Marry." Hemsworth. Pratt. Evans.

"You're marrying Evans?" asked the interviewer.

"If Evans asked me today, I would marry him."

korean food,.,

You and Tom, along with Pom, Benedict and Tom Hiddleston had gone to Korea for press but as far as you and Tom were concerned, it was for trying new food.

You all discussed what food you had and hadn't tried from Korea, Tom being quiet as he listened to them be listed.

"Korean BBQ," Pom added to her list.

Tom perked up from sitting next to you. "Oh yeah, that's good, that's good."

You laugh and mimic him. "Of course, you know Korean BBQ. I like the pancakes," you say when asked.

Tom gasped. "I've never had a Korean pancake."

You look shocked, as if you've never seen him before. "We have to go for pancakes before we leave."

He fist bumped the air.

That day you and the team were trying some of the most traditional Korean food. The first was a Kimbap which was the most classic thing kids would get in their lunch.

"You get to have Spider-man on that lunch box though," said Tom Hiddleston.

"Ah yeah, I did actually have a spiderman lunch box," said little Tom.

"I think I had a spiderman lunch box," added big Tom.

"I still have a spiderman lunch box," you say.

"I actually have a spiderman toothbrush, now," said Tom Holland, admitting it proudly.

"Did you have a spiderman duvet? A spiderman pillow?" asked Benedict.

"I did, I gave them to Y/N," said Tom.

You nod along, proudly. "I sleep like a baby every night."

As you dove into your first treats of the day you were also given several different drinks and the camera really loved to pick up on how Tom gently tapped the top of his can while you pierced a drink with a little straw and took a sip. You really did look like kids compared to the rest.

Tom Holland ranted about his love for Milkis while you rolled your eyes at your drink, Banana Wuyou. Upon trying each of each others drinks, you both preferred the other and continued to drink them throughout.

You all dug in. Everyone talking about how good it was while you and Tom just eat, sharing it together.

You all tried fruit, a Korean fruit from the south that you all enjoyed.

"It's a hybrid, right?" Asked Pom, stealing your attention. "Clementine, Mandarin and orange?"

"How does that happen?" Asked Tom to your side.

"Yeah, how does that happen with food?" you ask as well, the both of you waiting for answers. "How do you get a hybrid of- how does...."

You were met with blank stares.

"Life finds a way, Y/N," Hiddleston said. The host laughs as Benedict puts a hand on your shoulder.

"We'll tell you later."

"Tell us later, please," said Tom, going back to sipping his drink.

interviews,.,

Sometimes, on the rare occasion it was allowed, they put you and Tom Holland in interviews together- only to control the mess. If Tom spoiled something- either you would stop him or just get the interview derailed. If the two of you started joking around and wasted ten minutes of time, only one interview and apology had to be made.

It worked well.

For example, the time you were being asked how the two of you deal with scary moments and films.

"I do pretty well," said Tom, boasting.

"Yeah?" you ask.

"Yeah, I'm pretty thick-skinned when it comes to that sort of stuff," he said. You let him carry on talking a little more before yelling in his face and catching him off guard.

He cursed and had a fist ready at you as you just laugh.

"That Spidey sense," you teased.

Or in another when you let Tom talk and talk about the movie but he was about to say something... spoil something.

You throw your hands out and cover his mouth. "Spoiler!" you sigh, shaking your head as Tom sits, stunned for a moment.

All of a sudden you retract your hand as Tom licked it. He laughs as you hold out your hand, cringing.

"Someone- someone- get me something! Help me!" you joked.

Or another time when you and Tom sat with Benedict as a Watch Mojo interviwer readied to take her seat.

"We love Watch Mojo!" said Tom.

"No way?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're always watching it," he said.

You nod, and mimic the intro to the videos. " 'Welcome to Watch Mojo,' "

"That's me!" said the woman.

Benedict watched as you and Tom looked at each other with excited smiles, pumping your fists and getting giddy like kids.

You shift in your seat. "Can you do the intro for us?" you ask, adding a small, 'please.'

The woman almost rolled her eyes but cleared her throat and accommodated you. "Welcome to Watch Mojo!"

"Oh, no way!" Tom cheered as Benedict laughed confused at the two of you.

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twovialsofamortentia · 8 hours ago

Text

sneaking away with james becomes a habit. 🍻❤️‍🔥

PART ONE

🎧 supermassive black hole- muse

warnings: smut. 18+, MDNI. unprotected sex, like VERY unprotected, mirror sex, rough sex, slight emetophobia warning, tipsy sex, james being a sex god (canon), james loving doggystyle bc he’s a man

You always sat next to James in the Three Broomsticks. Remus and Sirius usually sat across from you. Peter usually sat on a stool at the side of the table, but today he had swanned off to visit Zonko’s with Gilderoy Lockhart, a new friend of his. When they first started doing things together, James sulked for three days. Didn’t talk to anyone, not even you- he blanked out everyone who told him to get a grip.

That was by the by today, though, since James was in a good mood. You chalked that up to the fact that he had fucked you like it was your last day on earth approximately ten minutes before you left the castle.

You looked up at James through the corner of your eye while Sirius was off getting a round of drinks in. Sure enough, he was gazing right back at you. It made you laugh.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, catching him staring.

“Nothing.” he insisted, even though the look in his eye was suggesting the complete opposite.

“Don’t start being disgusting in front of me.” Remus protested, folding his arms. “I want no part of your weird foreplay, I’m telling you now.”

You dropped your head back and groaned, stomping your leg down onto the floor as you leaned back on the creaky wooden bench seat. You folded your arms in a huff, pulling on your best Moody Moony face.

“My name’s Remus Lupin, and I hate fun, because I’m all brooding and I smoke cigarettes while I pretend I’m not mentally shagging-”

“That’s enough.”

“Oh, it’s true though, you moody bastard.” you said quickly, slapping your hands on the table.

James was chuckling boyishly at your ridiculous impression, just happy that the conversation was deflected from his staring. James had a habit of getting carried away when he looked at you. His mind wandered frequently.

“Look who I found.” came Sirius’ voice, who was returning to the table with two drinks. He had Peter in tow, who was precariously balancing the other three in his hands. Impressively enough, he managed to set them all down on the table without spilling them.

“Finished with your boyfriend, Pete?” James asked, bringing one leg up to cross over the other, before resting his hand on his ankle. James was over the worst of his dramatics now, but he’d be a sad excuse for a marauder if he resisted the temptation to take the piss.

You kicked James sideways under the table and scooted up along the bench so that Peter could sit down next to you. You hooked one of your legs over James’ lap, letting it rest in between his own legs so that there was enough room for you all.

“You get anything good in Zonko’s, Worm?”

That prompted Peter to divulge into a several minute long rant about the haul of tat he bought from the joke shop down the road. Subsequently, because none of the marauders can ever shut up about anything, you ended up spending an hour planning your next six or seven pranks.

An hour of serious prank planning, though, meant another couple of drinks that got drained quicker than they would if you had nothing to talk about.

Which meant that by the time you shoved James out of his seat and stood up because you were gasping for a cigarette, everyone was a little unsteady on their feet.

You all stumbled outside, through the pub door and into the fresh air. You stuck a cigarette in between your lips, then one between James’, who was only a smoker when he’d had a drink- a smoker through association. Most of your friends had picked up the habit from Remus. Even Peter smoked occasionally when he wanted to look mysterious. James lit both of your cigarettes and shoved the small lighter in his pocket.

You gazed up at James as he leaned down to light your cigarette, smiling around where it was perched between your lips. You shot him a quick wink as you stood up straight.

“Behave.” he warned.

“Why?” you pressed, taking a step towards James and dropping your voice to a whisper. “I’m waiting for you to get wound up enough to actually take me in the bathroom.”

“You’re filthy,” he responded, in a low voice. James was very aware of the fact that not many people in the courtyard outside of The Three Broomsticks were still in possession of their hearing, so maybe he needn’t have bothered.

You giggled, nodding as you took another long puff of your cigarette, dragging your eyes painstakingly slowly over James’ figure. How nobody else had snapped him up by now was beyond you, but you weren’t complaining.

“Am I?” you asked, pulling your cigarette from between your lips, unconsciously darting your tongue out to wet them as you gazed up at James with an expression on your face that couldn’t have been interpreted any other way than please fuck me right fucking now.

That did it.

You felt James’ hand on the small of your back guiding you inside, and you followed because you knew what you were in for.

“Where are you two off to?” asked Peter, eyeing you suspiciously as you turned your back to him.

“Get another drink.” you lied over your shoulder, shrugging sheepishly at Pete as James whisked you off through the pub, straight past the bar and towards the little bathroom in the back corner.

It took a significant amount of restraint on James’ behalf to not manhandle you into the bathroom in a pub full of people. He wanted to drag you by the hair and throw you through the door. You wanted him to do the same.

He was, however, completely incapable of resisting once the door closed behind the both of you. James grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him. kissing you hard as he pressed your back up against the nearest wall- which happened to be the one with the sink on it.

“Merlin-!” you gasped, kissing him back as your ass found the edge of the sink, and you perched on it, back resting flat against the mirror above it.

As soon as you were sat down, however, James was gripping your waist and pulling you off of the sink, yanking you back to your feet. James quickly spun you round so that your back was to his chest.

“Look at you.” he muttered, leaning down so close to your ear that you could feel his breath on the side of your face.

“Please.” was all you could manage to say, your eyes locked on James’ reflection because he was just. so. fit. He was holding you by your hips, and you could feel him against you, already rock hard.

James would be damned if he wasn’t going to give you what you asked for, every time you asked for it. He winked at you in the mirror, and you just about died, before he hooked one hand over your shoulder and kept the other on your hip, hinging you swiftly forward until you were bent over the sink in front of him.

“Fuck-” you gasped, grabbing the sink for support and gazing at yourself in the mirror as your hair fell down around your face.

“You’re so beautiful.” James promised, eyes catching yours in your reflection.

You nodded slowly, almost believing it. You watched intently in the mirror as James bunched your dress up. Then you watched as he ripped your underwear down your legs so it was hanging around your knees.

James placed a hand flat in the middle of your back to gently push you further forward, so you were well and truly bent over for him, your hands steadying yourself by gripping the white porcelain of the sink.

You gasped when you felt James sink two fingers into you, but as quickly as they were in, they were out, and the feeling was replaced by him pushing all the way into you.

“Oh, fuck!” you whined as James slipped inside you, your thighs clenching around his hips. You were already a mess. You watched him in the mirror as he looked down to focus on where your body joined his, and you could see his eyes flutter shut as he drew almost completely out of you, then pushed all the way back in.

He had one hand splayed flat over your back still, and he was gripping your hip tightly with his other. Once James had established a rhythm of fucking in and out of you, the hand that was holding your back down against the sink slid up across your back and into your hair.

You moaned when you felt your head being jerked back by James grabbing a handful of your roots, and you caught his gaze in the mirror.

“Fuck me, darling,” James fawned over you, as you looked up at him in the mirror. “You’re perfect.”

His hand stayed twisted in your hair, so even if you’d wanted to look away, you couldn’t. But you didn’t want to.

You just nodded, whining indiscriminately about everything and nothing at the same time. You weren’t speaking to be heard, you just wanted to release some of your pent up energy.

“I know, my girl, I know,” said James softly, as you whined. It was a beautiful sound, but he couldn’t have you being too loud. “Shh.”

“Fuck, fuck! James, fuck, feels so- oh, fuck,” you rambled on and on, hands still gripping the sink for dear life.

“I know, just be quiet, darling,” said James, gripping your hair a little tighter to drive the point home. “Don’t want anyone to hear, do you?”

You were really had at remembering to have your wands on you for a silencing charm. You chalked it up to the fact that James got off on it, really. Filthy bastard.

You nodded, but it wasn’t much use, because the whines and curses were still spilling from your lips as if there was more than a flimsy wooden door separating you from everyone outside.

James leaned down over you, his hand slipping out of your hair and round to grab your face so tightly that it squished your cheeks together. He brought your back up against your chest, and dipped his head down to speak lowly in your ear.

“D’you need me to shut you up?” he warned through gritted teeth, staring down at you.

“Please-!” you mumbled, barely understandable because of how hard James was holding your face.

James got the message, and used the hand that he had holding your chin to push two of his fingers into your mouth, holding it open so that the sounds spilling from you were even less comprehensible.

“That better?” he asked.

You nodded, leaning slightly further forward and trying to tell James around his fingers that you were close, but you gagged around them and it all came out as a bit of a choked out mess.

“I know, sweetheart,” he assured you, and he was using that voice again. The voice that was only reserved for you, where his tone was soft against your skin, and he didn’t sound half as condescending as he did to anyone else. James knew that talking to you like that would let him get away with murder. He took his fingers out of your mouth and moved his hand around to the back of your neck, bending you roughly back over the sink.

You felt your legs starting to quiver, because being bent over like this meant James was hitting just the right spot. You had come to realise today that you were a complete and utter fool for James when he had you like this, because there was something so otherworldly about the way he looked when he was holding you down and drilling you like his life depended on it.

When James noticed that your legs were shaking, he knew you weren’t going to last that much longer. He brought his free hand round to your front, slipping it between you and the edge of the sink so he could reach down and circle his fingers over your clit.

James decided then and there that he loved having you like this, bent over for him, completely at his mercy, and resolved to bend you over more often.

“Fuck-” James huffed, snapping his hips harder against yours every time until he was lurching you forward every time he fucked into you.

“Please,” you begged. “James, I can’t-”

“S’alright, darling,” he told you soothingly. “Take it, you’re nearly there, I’ve got you.”

His fingers were digging into your hips, leaving little red marks over the ones he’d left earlier, which were already starting to transform into little pink bruises. They were tender, so the pain of James gripping you in the same spots was blinding, but so, so good.

“So gorgeous, darling, m’gonna- oh, fuck.”

It was at that point that you saw stars, because as soon as you felt a rush of warmth shoot up into you, your knees pressed together and you slumped against the sink, coming all over James’ dick for the second time that day.

James stilled as soon as he came, giving you the space to ride it out, but he twitched inside you involuntarily, your name spilling from his lips louder than it probably should have.

You couldn’t quite catch your breath as you went lax against the sink, hands pressed up against the mirror to try and keep you from hitting the floor. Your hips stuttered downwards and your thighs shook like you were freezing cold.

“Fuck.” you groaned, voice muffled by your own skin as you rested your head on your arms.

James watched your reflection for a moment, taking in how pretty you really were when you were like this, flushed bright red and bent over in front of the mirror.

“Love you.” he mused softly as he pulled your underwear back up over your ass before tugging at your dress so that it fell back down to where it was meant to be, the hem around your ankles rather than around your waist.

You hummed in response, sighing as you stood up straight. “Love you.” you echoed. “So much that I’m going to go back out there and sit with your friends while I’m leaking your fucking spunk.”

James laughed at that, pulling his underwear and jeans back up. He leant against the wall, still a little out of breath, eyes running across your face with adoration.

“It’s never ending with you.”

“You love it.”

There was no word of a lie. James did love it, almost as much as he loved you. You were kindred in your senses of adventure, and that was the most attractive thing about you in James’ eyes.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, opening the door for you and watching you duck under his arm and out of the bathroom. “I do.”

#james potter #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter smut #marauders #dead wizards from the 70s #harry potter #marauders era #dead gay wizards from the 70s #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #gilderat #wolfstar

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bqstqnbruin · 1 day ago

Text

Desire

Look, I know I dropped off the face of the Earth for like three weeks and even my computer was confused when I opened it for the first time in that long, but hey, here we are. This is a fic I actually started last February and never could find the inso to finish.

Anyway, this is for the absolutely lovely @laurenairay for her birthday bingo that my computer isn't letting me screenshot and edit because this thing is too old to do that. BUT I did get bingo by doing Matching Making, Fake Dating, Love Language, and "It's Always Been You." I know I'm posting this on the last day you asked for it but, hey, I got there (I'm not even sure if it's still the 24th where you are, I'm so sorry).

So, happy birthday Lauren! I hope you like this and I hope you have an amazing day love 💛💛💛💛

This is Nico Hischier x Fem!OC ft. Jack Hughes for the drama

Warnings: swearing, drinking, a bad poem that came from here

WC: 5841

__________________________

“How many times do you think we have to go through this before I actually find someone decent?”

“Statistically, you should have found someone by now.”

“How do you think that helps me?”

Liv came home from yet another disastrous Hinge date, her roommate, Milly, doing nothing to comfort her in the fact that finding love was hopeless when all the good people to date were either way too far away from where they lived, taken by other good people, or simply did not exist.

“You didn’t ask for me to help, you asked me how long you have to keep dating. I gave you an answer.”

Liv groaned, flopping down on the couch with her hands over her face. “I hate this.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Nico wants to hear it too, he’s on his way over.”

Liv had called Nico from the Uber ride back, just like she always did after a disastrous date, to tell him he needed to come and bring her and Milly wine and ice cream. The routine was unfortunately something that was turning into a once a week affair with every failed outing Liv had gone on.

Before Milly could say anything else, Nico was opening the door, letting himself in and kicking off his shoes. “You guys really need to start locking the door. One of Liv’s dates could come in and just kill you two.”

“Again, how do you think that helps?” Liv asks while Milly laughs. “I need better friends.”

Nico hands the girls their ice cream, the wine sitting on the coffee table near their feet. “You can’t find a boyfriend, what makes you think you’re going to find better friends?”

“I don’t have to stay here, I have keys and my own car. I can just leave.”

“If you really wanted to do that, you wouldn’t have called Nico and we all wouldn’t be sitting here. So what happened?”

Liv started to recount the date, which was a disaster from start to finish. First, her Uber was late, which meant she was going to be late. Then, her date, Spenser, who told her he had made a reservation at the restaurant, actually lied and didn’t make one, and they ended up having to wait an hour for the table anyway, even with her being late. Then, he ordered for her, and wouldn’t let her tell him that not only did she not want what he ordered, she was allergic to one of the main ingredients, so she had to flag the waiter down and tell him to make sure that she didn’t get sent to the hospital. Spenser spilled his drink all over the table, and then got mad when she wouldn’t give him her drink while he waited for a new one. “And, it somehow gets worse.”

Liv watched her roommate and her best friend try to hold back their laughter while they waited for her to finish. This one took the cake for the worst date she had ever been on, easily, and they knew it. Nico’s face was bright red, Milly clutching her sides while Liv just felt more of her heart breaking at the fact that she had another failed outing. She just wanted someone who would care for her the way she saw her brother care for his girlfriend, her sister care for her partner, all her cousins, aunts, uncles, her parents, love their person.

“There’s no way he did anything else after that,” Milly says.

“He pulled out a poem.”

Nico nearly chokes on the swig of wine he took. “What do you mean?”

Liv pulled out the piece of paper from her bag. Spenser insisted she keep it as a way to remember him and to make her want a second date. His words. “A poem.”

“Oh, my god,” Milly squeals, snatching the paper from Liv’s hands and showing it to Nico, bursting into laughter at the sight of what is probably the most ridiculous thing Liv has ever been given. “Did he fucking burn the edges of the paper?”

“Looks like it,” Liv groans.

“Our love is like a bowling ball, like a brand new Brunswick Red Zone. It rolls and rolls down the alley of desire, and rolls and rolls and rolls. I will keep you out of the gutters, my love, and put my fingers in your holes?” Nico yells at the end.

“No fucking way,” Milly says, continuing to read the horrible thing out loud. “Every kiss, a strike or at least a spare, our future a perfect game.”

“You know what makes this even worse?” Nico asks through fits of laughter.

“There’s no way it can be worse than, ‘our love is like a bowling ball, our scores will rise and rise. I shall never step beyond the foul line and I will rent your shoes,’” Milly wheezes.

“No, it is. I think he plagiarized it.”

Liv’s jaw drops. He couldn’t even be bad on his own? He had to look up and purposefully pick a bad poem and take credit for it? It didn’t even make sense. There was no mention of bowling at any point during their conversations before or during the date, and there definitely wouldn’t be any now that the date had happened.

Nico hands her his phone, the website pulled up with the poem on it, clear as day. “Why did you know this was a thing?”

Nico shrugs, “We get bored in the locker room after practice sometimes.”

“So all guys are fucking weird?” Milly asks.

Liv interrupts their back and forth with another groan, covering her hands with her face again as she leans back on the couch. “I’m going to be alone forever.”

“No, you’re not.”

“How am I so unlovable?”

“We love you.”

“You don’t count. Am I ugly? Is it that I’m not attractive?”

“I once saw someone say that your face is a combination of hundreds of people who have fallen in love throughout the years,” Milly offers, taking a sip of wine from Nico’s bottle.

“Then why have all of Liv’s exes look like horses?” Nico counters, Milly nearly spitting the wine back out at him.

“That’s uncalled for,” Liv groaned. “Is my personality bad?”

“You literally just keep giving shitty guys a chance, it’s nothing actually wrong with you.”

“I would say that’s a flaw, actually,” Nico points out, earning a smack in the shoulder from Liv.

“You’re two seconds away from being kicked out.”

“If I go, the wine goes.”

“Ok, how do we fix your bad dating life, what’s the plan?” Milly pulls the two of them out of their bickering match. She looks at Nico, his eyes locked on Liv despite her looking down at her phone. She smiles, knowing exactly what that look meant. He looked at her like that whenever he thought no one else was looking, especially not Liv. She had caught him looking at her like that every time they were together. “What if Nico takes you on a date so he can show you what you should look for in a good guy?”

Nico’s eyes bug out of his head as he snaps his head towards Milly. She looked at him with a sly smile, one to let him know that she knew what he didn’t want Liv to know. She’s known for a long time, at this point, pretty much since they met him, that he was practically in love with her roommate. He came over after every date Liv had, taking shots at the guys more than Milly did, going through the same conversation every time trying to convince Liv that she deserved more than the guys she was dating.

“What?” Nico chokes out, praying that Liv doesn’t notice the strangled tone in his voice.

“Yeah, ok,” Liv dismisses before Nico or Milly can keep going, Nico seeing her start to chew on the inside of her cheek. “Aren’t any of your friends single? Statistically speaking, can you have that large of a group of guys and have all of them be taken?”

“We should start a new drinking game where every time one of us uses the word, ‘statistically,’ we take a shot.”

“I work with numbers, what do you want from me? And we can’t afford that kind of hospital bill when we inevitably get alcohol poisoning,” Milly says. “But, yeah, there’s that one guy who always hits on Liv, right? James? John?”

“Jack doesn’t hit on her,” Nico says, glaring at Milly while Liv remained oblivious.

“Every time Jack sees Liv, everyone knows that he’s undressing her in his mind.”

“And he’s cute, too,” Liv points out, Nico getting jealous at the smile growing on her face. “Set me up with him. Please?”

“I don’t know,” Nico hesitates.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Milly asks, “They fall in love? Liv can finally stop going on horrible dates? You save money on gas and wine because the currently weekly occurrence of making fun of her bad outings wouldn’t happen as much?”

Nico stammers something unintelligible trying to figure out what to say, looking back and forth between Liv’s pleading face and Milly’s ‘gotcha’ expression. Jack and Liv? He lets out a sigh, “Do you really want me to ask him if he’s interested?”

“Do you think he would take me on a good date for once?”

He could lie. He knows that Jack likes Liv. He knows that Jack wouldn’t do anything to hurt her and wouldn’t purposely take her on a date that sucks, unless his own stupidity got in his way. He could tell her that he was talking to someone else that Nico didn’t know, that he was sure he had someone. But looking at Liv’s face, the more than fifty bad dates running through his mind, watching her recount everyone that ended in the same question of why she wasn’t good enough for a good guy when all he wanted to do was give her a date and a relationship he knew she deserved, he couldn’t tell her that.

“He would probably take you on the first good date you’ve had in a while.”

__________________________

Nico had promised Liv he would talk to Jack about going out with her after their practice the next day. Of course, that led to him having one of the worst practices of his life, his thoughts occupied with his friends going out and potentially falling in love just like Milly had said. An unfortunately vivid picture of the two of them going on a perfect first date played in his mind, followed by more and more dates, Jack eventually being the one she called when she needed or wanted someone to talk to who wasn’t Milly, then moving in together, Nico being at their wedding, standing there while he watched them build the life he wanted with her.

For fuck’s sake.

“Liv really wants to date me?” Jack nearly yells, acting like a kid who was just told they could buy any toy they wanted. “Me? Seriously?”

“What are you talking about?” Nico mumbles, already hating that he had to bring it up in the first place.

“I always thought she was into you.” Nico scoffs, knowing that there was nothing between them despite how badly he wanted something to happen. “You’re the one she calls when she needs something, you’re the one she bee-lines to when we’re out at a bar, you’re the one she texts before and after every game to wish you like, congratulate you, or comfort you if we lose. You’re telling me all of that means nothing?” Jack asks.

“We’re friends.”

“You want more than that.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Nico snaps, walking out of the locker room, Jack at his heels. “Liv wants to go out on one date that doesn’t end in her needing to get drunk while ranting about it to me and Milly.”

“Why haven’t you asked her out yet?” Jack probes, following Nico to his car. “You want to go out with her, it’s obvious to everyone.”

“Apparently it’s not obvious to her,” Nico mumbles. “Look, it doesn’t matter. She asked me to ask you if you were interested. We all know you like her, too, and you’re the one she wants to go out with. What am I supposed to do?”

“So you admit you like her.”

“I’m going to run you over with this car.”

“You can’t do that, we can’t afford to be down two players.”

“Yeah, that’s the only issue that would come of me hitting you with my car.”

“Nico, just ask her out. I like her, so what? You love her.”

“She likes you.”

“She loves you.”

“As a friend.”

“As more. You want more.”

“We’ve been here before.”

“I recognize that tree,” Jack jokes, finally earning a smirk from Nico. “What if I talk you up on the date?”

“Because that wouldn’t be weird.”

“What if I take her on an awful date.”

“Do that to Liv and I’ll do more than run you over,” Nico threatens. “You will either take her on a good date, or you won’t take her out at all. I will not have her suffer through another bad date and watch her be crushed, again, except this time at the hands of the teammate she asked me to set her up with. Are we clear?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Jack says with a smug look on his face, saluting Nico as he gets into his car.

“I need better friends,” Nico mumbles.

__________________________

The restaurant was dark and loud, something Liv wasn’t expecting and something she normally hated. It was hard to hear and hard to see, already increasing her anxiety that she was about to have another shitty date to add to the list of reasons and horrible reminiscences that she, Milly,and Nico would have later that night. The worst part is that this date involved someone who was close to Nico, someone he still had to see every single day.

Jack was already sitting at the table, waiting for Liv and looking nervous. For some reason, that calms her; most of the guys whom she had gone out with had this arrogance about them when she met them as if she should be happy they decided to give her the time of day.

He finally sees her coming toward her, getting out of his seat to hug her. He did really like her, but he couldn’t seriously date her when it was so obvious that Nico loved her more, could he?

“Have you been here before?” Liv asks him, sitting down and starting to go through the motions of the normal first date that she dreaded. Maybe that was part of her problem; she seemed to relive the same date over and over again no matter who was sitting on the other side of the table. The conversation almost always followed the same mundane script, the guy had an attitude that rubbed her the wrong way, the food she had placed in front of her either wasn’t something she enjoyed or didn’t fill her enough.

“Nico’s taken a few of us here before after a few times,” Jack explains, a sly smile on his face. He looked like he had a plan, one Liv couldn’t figure out.

“Nico did?” her ears perk up at the mention of her best friend.

Jack takes a sip of his water in front of him, nodding, a smirk on his face. “He’s always doing stuff like that, when he’s not with you.”

“What do you mean?”

Jack smirks, the look on his face giving Liv a slightly unsettled feeling. “You know that he’s going to do anything for the people he cares about. We said we wanted to try this restaurant, so he took us here so we could.” Liv nods along. “Just like he’d do anything for you.”

Liv felt a warm feeling rush through her. She could think of all the things Nico would do for her as soon as she asked him. He’s gone as far as Facetiming her during a game because he knew she wasn’t feeling good and Milly was away for a work trip. Not only that, but he was there at her door, ready to spend the night with her so he could take care of her. “He would. He does.”

Jack laughs. “Well yeah, because he’s into you.” Liv raises her eyebrow, raising her water glass to her lips. Nico is her best friend. Jack rolls his eyes, “Oh,come on, you know he’s in love with you.”

Liv starts choking on her water. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”

“Then why would he set us up?”

“Because he knows I like you and that I’m the guy who wouldn’t hurt you.”

“So you’re saying,” she starts, putting the drink down, “That he likes me so much, he set me up with you because you like me.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s a crush. He gave me a chance.”

“But?”

“But you’re also in love with Nico.”

Liv laughs. “Please.”

Jack shakes his head. “You can’t see the look on your face when Nico’s name gets mentioned or when you’re thinking about him. If you don’t love him, then whoever you do love is in for a ride with you looking at them like that.”

Liv can feel the heat rushing to her face, their waitress thankfully interrupting them to ask for their orders, as if Liv had even had time to look at the menu in the first place, her mind still swimming with Jack’s words. She and Nico weren’t in love with each other. “Believe what you want,” she tries to pass off her obvious spike in anxiety from his words as anything else, hoping he doesn’t hear the shaking she feels in her voice.

“I believe it, Milly believes it,” Jack starts, ignoring Liv’s scowl. “The entire team believes it. I’m pretty sure our waitress believes it.”

“This is a really shity first date,” Liv mumbles, rolling her eyes at Jack’s laugh.

“I know for a fact that this is still the best first date you’ve had in a while.” Liv rolls her eyes again. “I have an idea for you.”

“Oh no.”

“Hear me out,” Jack begs, flashing a puppy dog face at her. She sighs and nods, already feeling the headache coming on. “How about you and I pretend that we’re actually dating?”

“What do you mean?”

“We tell Nico that we really hit it off. We pretend that the two of us are actually dating, and it pisses him the fuck off. He finally realizes and admits to you that he’s in love with you, and you two finally get together.”

Liv stares at him, her mouth hanging open. “You have never had an intelligent thought in your life, have you?”

“I had this one, didn’t I?”

__________________________

“Where the fuck are they?” Nico paces back and forth in front of Milly, repeatedly checking his phone to see if Liv had texted him.

He hears Milly sigh. He stops pacing, staring at his friend sitting on her couch, engrossed in something on her phone. “On the date you set them up on, probably.”

“This is your fault,” Nico accuses, sitting down next to her on the couch and putting his hands in his face.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” she repeats, the same deadpan tone as before. “You are too stupid to ask her out, and because of that, you would rather have set her up with your teammate who likes her instead of do the thing you actually want to do because you’re scared.”

“What am I scared of?”

“Dating Liv and it not working out,” Milly shrugs, not looking up from her phone screen. “Duh.”

Nico glares at her. “Why am I even here?”

“Because you’re waiting for Liv and I’m the only one who would stop you from driving to the restaurant they’re at and ruining what’s probably the first good date she’s had in years.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I think you would lose that bet if you made it.” Nico lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing that, unfortunately, Milly definitely had enough willpower and spite to stop him if she needed to. Hell, she could probably do it just if she wanted to. “Check her location if you’re so worried about her.

Nico pulls out his phone, pulling up the app to see Liv and Jack’s bubbles right next to his and Milly's, indicating that they were right outside on the sidewalk.

Nico ran to the window, the girl’s street facing apartment coming in handy for the drunken hilarity that happened more than once. This time it was handy for making him want to fling himself into a river (he could swim).

The color drained from his face, something so apparent that even Milly could tell just from his back that he needed to be pulled back in.

Nico had watched Jack pull Liv in for a kiss, seeing him squeeze her waist and the smile that grew on her face as the girl he wanted more than anything with someone else. Someone he set her up with. Someone he was close friends with, who he knew liked her, too.

“I’m a fucking a idiot,” Nico whines, plopping back on the couch with Milly, finally earning a sympathetic look from her.

“Want to go hide in my room so you don’t have to see her when she comes up?” Milly offers, knowing he won’t accept. Nico shakes his head. “You don’t mess with tradition, right?”

The two of them sit there in silence, Milly turning on the tv in front of them so Nico could have something to drown out his thoughts. They were interrupted by the sound of two familiar voices in the hallway outside the door.

Milly and Nico exchange looks. Liv never brought the guy upstairs.

Nico could run for it. He was fast. They were on the third floor, easily enough to climb down the fire escapes and the window ledges if he really needed to, right? He could take Milly’s offer up and hide in her room, hoping that Liv didn’t notice his car still parked on the street because she was too enamored with Jack, that the two of them wouldn’t check his location and see that he was still in the building, just feet away.

But he wanted her to notice. He wanted Liv to notice that he was around, just like he always knew when she entered the same room as him. He wanted her to notice that he was there just like he noticed how she scrunched her nose up when she truly found something funny, knowing that she couldn’t hold that kind of laughter in even if she tried. He wanted her to notice because it would tell him that even though she was on a date with Jack, she was still looking for him, just like he looked for her everywhere he went, even when he knew she wasn’t around him.

“Hey, guys,” Liv comes in, beaming in a way he never saw her before. He could feel his heart splintering at the sight of her hand entwined with Jack’s.

“So, I take it the date went well?” Milly asks as Jack and Liv sit across from them, Nico wanting to gouge his eyes out every time they inched closer together.

Jack looks at Liv and smiles. Nico hated this. “Yeah, we’re going out again on Thursday.”

“We’ve got that event that night,” Nico points out.”

“Yeah, Liv’s going to be my date.”

For fucks sake.

__________________________

The boys leave, Nico first, Jack after the two of them filled in Milly.

“This is an awful idea, you know that, right?” Liv says when Milly calms down from her laughter. She found it hilarious, much to Liv’s dismay.

“That’s why it’s so funny,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes. “You can’t act to save your life. You think you can convince Nico, the boy who can see through you and knows your every move, that you’re dating Jack and actually enjoying it?”

“Jack thinks I’m in love with Nico.”

“So he does have a brain.” Liv stares at Milly. “Babe, you and Nico are the only ones who don’t know that you’re in love with each other. You’ve loved him since the moment you first spoke to him, and we know damn well he’s been in love with you since the first moment he saw you.”

Liv shakes her head. “So what?”

“So you two need to stop fucking around and finally date each other. Jack’s plan is surprisingly smart.”

__________________________

Nico was in hell.

Jack suggested that since Nico was on the way to Liv’s place, he would pick up Nico and Liv, and the three of them carpool to the event together.

Now, he’s stuck in the back seat of Nico’s car, staring at the center console where Jack and Liv’s hands are, together, while they talk about something Nico couldn’t even be bothered to listen to.

“I can’t believe you brought me flowers,” Liv gushes, Nico feeling like he was going to vomit when Jack got out of the car, leaving Nico to trail behind up to the girls apartment. He hadn’t noticed the flowers, hadn’t noticed that they were sunflowers, Liv’s favorites. But he had noticed the way her face lit up when she saw Jack, and the way she brightened even more when he handed her the bouquet.

She was always at her happiest when someone gave her a meaningful gift. Even the worst dates she went on could be brightened when the guy gave her something that she mentioned she enjoyed. He still hated the one book she kept on her nightstand, a copy of her favorite book and movie signed by the author and the cast.

Now he had to spend the night with them, looking at Liv in a dress that somehow managed to hug every curve on her body in a way that made it look customized to her measurements, while she and Jack fawned over each other.

He should have had Milly come, too, as his date. At least that way she could give him comedic relief or talk him down from wanting to commit a felony (although, she might encourage it for some drama).

Nico hadn’t even noticed Jack had left the table to do god only knows what, until Liv sidled up to the seat next to him.

“Why are you being an ass?’

Nico grimaced. She was right, unfortunately. He had barely said more than three words to her. He couldn’t even work up the courage to tell her she looked nice, something Jack had been able to do multiple times in the hour they were together. “I don’t feel great.”

Liv squinted at him. “Why are you lying to me?”

Nico sighed, shaking his head, trying to seem convincing. “I’m not.”

“Whatever,” she said, getting up, probably off to find Jack.

He should get up to find her. He knew that.

He found Jack first, standing at the bar waiting for drinks, two already in front of him. “Liv’s not with you?”

Jack shakes his head. “She’s supposed to be with you,” he replies, a knowing smirk on his face that left Nico feeling uneasy.

Nico shakes his head, trying to scan the crowd for her. He didn’t know why he bothered, he could already tell she left the room. He made his way towards the door leading to the bathrooms, pushing through people who wanted to talk to him despite his lack of interest. He only wanted to find Liv.

“Took you long enough,” she says, Nico coming up to her in the hallway.

Her snark made him smile, trying to fight the one that threatened to grow on his face. “What’s going on with you?” Liv rolled her eyes, letting out a long sigh. She wouldn’t look at him. Suddenly, his mind went to the worst. “Did Jack do something?”

She gave him a look, immediately telling him he was wrong without having to verbalize it. “We both know he would never.”

“Olivia,” Nico says, using her full name to be sure to get her attention. “Jack is in there waiting for you.”

“I know that,” she snaps, clearly getting more agitated. Nico had no idea where this was coming from.

“Then why aren’t you spending your night with him? Why are we out here?”

“I don’t want to be here with him, you idiot.” Nico blinked, not sure if she was done. “Jack is great, but I don’t want to be with him. I don’t care that he’s in there acting like he and I are dating. I care that you don’t seem to care.”

Nico takes a second to process the words coming from her, Liv talking so fast he could barely keep up. “What do you mean, ‘acting?’”

Liv lets out a laugh, a flutter in Nico’s stomach in anticipation for what he hoped she was about to say. “Milly said I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.”

“Liv, keep what up? Fill me in, please,” he begs, taking a step closer to her.

She shakes her head, explaining the whole thing. “Jack and Milly think we’re in love with each other. Jack thought we should pretend to date to get you to finally ask me out.”

Again, he took a second to process. “What?”

“God dammit, Nico. I love you and everyone is telling me you love me,” she spits out, tears building up in her eyes. She thinks it’s not true. How could she think he isn’t so in love with her, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to look at someone the same way he looks at her? Liv keeps rambling, but the thoughts in his head were much louder than anything she could be saying right now. He should be listening, but he couldn’t believe that the girl in front of him, the one he knew everything about, the one he would do anything for, didn’t think he was in love with her.

“Liv,” he starts, trying to get her to stop. She doesn’t. “Liv.”

She stops after him saying her name four more times, only when he finally puts his hands on her arms. “You think I’m not just as in love with you as you are with me? God, if you’re in love with me even a fraction of the amount I’m in love with you, I would count myself lucky. I love everything about you, from how you chew on your bottom lip when you’re trying to concentrate, how you bite your left cheek when you want to say something but you’re trying to figure out if you should. I love how your eyes light up when you know someone is listening to you talk about something you’re passionate about, how you make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world just because I get to say I know you.”

Nico steps closer to her, leaning down to whisper in her ear as people walk by them, Nico wanting these words to be only for her. “I want to push you against this wall and I want you to push me back. I have wanted to punch every guy you have ever gone out with because they were getting to do everything and anything I could ever dream of doing with you.” He steps back when he hears her let out a shuddering breath against his neck, looking at her as she stood there with her eyes closed, a slight smile on her face.

“If you think I’m not in love with you, that I don’t want to be the one buying you sunflowers, making you your favorite food, being the person you can be in love with, too, then you don’t know me.”

“So,” she starts, chewing the inside of her cheek, making Nico smile. “Are we doing this?”

Nico’s smile grows wider. “God, I hope so,” he tells her, pulling her toward him and finally kissing her.

__________________________

“So, how was it?” Milly asks when Liv opens the door. “Where’s Nico?”

Liv practically throws herself on the couch next to Milly. “He said he was on his way up?”

“Are we really going to wait for him to come up before you tell me how your anniversary date went?”

“It’s tradition.”

Liv knew that Milly hated the tradition at this point, but it had been going on for years. She had to wait for Nico.

He comes in the door before Milly can say anything else. “Parking on your street is becoming the biggest pain in my ass,” he mutters, kissing his girlfriend on the head before handing off the unopened bottle of wine he bought just for Milly.

“I knew there was a reason we kept you around,” Milly says, popping open the bottle and drinking straight from it while Nico sits down across from them, ignoring his eye roll. “So, tell me about your big two year anniversary dinner that she couldn’t shut up about until now.”

“Wait, Jack is coming, too,” Nico says, his phone buzzing in his pocket with notifications that his teammate was on his way up to Milly’s apartment, too.

“What the fuck?” Milly asks, staring at Liv’s face, trying to read the surprisingly discrete look she was wearing for once.

“We have to wait for Jack, too. It’s only fair,” Liv insists, fidgeting with her hands behind her back.

Milly groans, downing more of the wine, launching into a rant about making her wait when she just wanted to be in bed with the bottle. Jack finally arrives, much too slow for Milly’s liking, which she wasn’t afraid to tell him.

“Ok, ok, can you calm down?” Jack says, dodging a pillow launched at his face. “I’m here.”

“Tell us about the date, please” Milly begs, clearly getting impatient.

“It was really good, “ Liv starts, the heat rushing to her face.

“Oh, come on, you have to give me more than that,” Milly complains. “At least tell me you fucked in the bathroom, or something.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “She can’t be your maid of honor, she’s going to say something like that in her speech,” he looks at Liv.

“She’s going to be my maid of honor unless she’s in jail and not allowed out or in the ground dead.”

“Wait, wait, maid of honor?” Milly asks, finally noticing Liv’s heads folded in her lap. “Holy shit!” she screams, launching herself at her best friend, tears starting to roll down her face when the realization hits her.

“It took you two long enough,” Jack says, staring at the ring on Liv’s left hand. “Since I got you together, does this mean I’m the best man?’

“Absolutely not.”

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #new jersey devils #devils #new jersey devils fic #jack hughes #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #hockey fic #if there are typos I'M SO SORRY

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froginmygarden · 4 hours ago

Text

It started with an ad: long day of work

"Hello, Surfer Smile Studio here, how can I help you? ... Yes, she does, let me check her scedual. ... No, Dr. Brown doesn't have any free time this week, but I can sign you up for next friday 13:45, would that work? ... Eccellent, we'll see you then!"

And that was the last call of the day, phone line now officialy off and with three hours remaining 'till cosing. Danny let out a painfull whine as he stretched his legs. Was he imagining it or was this day esspecially long? What he wouldn't do just for a short flight home, like right about now. But no all he got ware needles in his-

"Can you wait for Mrs. Jenkins to come by in 10? I got a go out for a bit."

"Sure," honestly he didn't want to, that old lady seemed to have it out for him since day one, he just wasn't a good enough anything in her eyes. Hell were he a dung pile she'd say he wasn't brown or smelly enough.

"Thanks," And off she went, already pulling out her light. Whatever mints Ann was using must be crafted by monks or come from heaven itself, because if that girl was to breath in your face you wouldn't be able to tell she'd had half a pack of thins a day. Or maybe the equipment was for show, and she only pulled them out when someone difficult was to show up, neither seemed more likeley.

With that he was alone at the reception. Again. There wasn't much to do but sit and wait for the next apointment, whitch was Jenkins. If only god all mighty would take her already.

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

The light seems dimmer then before, Danny thaught as he stepped up to the kiosk, maybe the string inside will snap soon.

"Do you need something?"

"No, just looking."

It was awfully empty tonight, no cars or pedestrians, no critters either, you could write a childrens rhym book about this.

Coming home was quiet, no lights on, no talking, just some dirty dishes and scattered toys. Dani was sound asleep in her bed. Yeah leaving her home alone wasn't the best or a long term plan, but they didn't have many options. Besides, while she had started behaving more her current age (whitch was a bit over a year old, based on size he'd guessed 13 months), Dani seemes to remember her old self, so she's not really a toddler, but this arrangment only lasts as long as everyone thinks he has a sitter for her, other times she gets a fun little trip to the dentist.

"Hi, honey, how was your day? I had the worst day today, you know. Can you immagine, some of these people-", Danny whispered on and on as he wiped the drool off of Dani's face. Honestly, she looked like a sweet little angel right now, so calm, so peacefule. It made him think that all that he does will be worth it at the end. But maybe it was just his "daddy brain" talking.

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

"And as you can see, this months activity has gone down by 15% since our last encounter, The Arctic seems to be retreating and recovering their losses whitch has sown displeasure amongst their current allys."

The stars were pretty today, or night, who knows. Look how they were all sparkling, and there went a satelite, and anoter one, and another, and another, and another but this time blue. Barry was bouncing his leg so hard it was kinda vibrating his chair, he didn't like that. Green Arrow seemed more interested it stringnig and unstringing his bow, whitch, sure, he'd like to have something a bit distracting too right about now. The rest seemed to more or less be paying attention, speaking of people, Supes was pretty figetty as well. Now what was that about?

"If nobody has anthing to add, this meeting is over. Green Latern, you are still expected at the med bay for scanning," and it was almost over, Hal could feel the sweet taste of ever aproaching freedom.

There wasn't anything wrong with him. What did he tell you? He can handle anything you throw his way, literally. He was just that good, so he was quickly sent on his way.

The night, as it turns out it was, was pretty nice. Not much traffic down on the roads and no sudden attacka, and it better stay that way, all he was currently interested in was crashing into bed and not getting up for a few days.

No one seemed to be awake and, while he wouldn't usually do this, he decided to just get in through the balcony, not feeling like flothing down, trasforming and then having to get all the way up again by stairs.

His head soon hit the pillow and let me tell you the feeling was euphoric, his body ached from his long patrol and getting dragged into a JL meeting right after didn't make it any better. But this? This made it all worth it in the end.

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

EVICTION NOTICE

Date: XX/XX/20XX

This notice is sent to Harold Jordan ("Tenant") and further directed to all residents, occupants, subtenants, and any others in posession of the Premises.

Property Adress: Apt. nr. XX, XX of XX str, Coast City ("Premises")

Lease Start Date: XX/XX/20XX ("Lease")

In accordance with your Lease and the laws located in this State, after service of this notice you are herbally given...

He takes it back, he didn't need anything disracting or interesting at all, he'd like to have this not happen, thank you very much. He'd rather listen to Bats go on about attack probabilities and tactics.

"ssssssssssss, fuck."

What the hell was he going to do now?

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A/N: Heeeeeeeeeyyy. Sorry for the short chapter. I know the pacing is kind of slow, but please bear with me. I want to make a little build up to their first meating, so it's not basically "So they are room mates now", I do have a plot in mind, but again this is my first fic, so if anyone has pacing or conversation sugestions I'm all ears. Thanks to anyone who read this. <3

P.S. I'm posting on the computer, not sure how to put the "Show less" on, so I'm sorry if this takes a lot of screen space on mobile. :(

If I spot too major an error I'll edit it later.

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mybrainproblems · 2 years ago

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destielblr 2021 like "it was the best of times [s16, mass hallucination destiel valentines wedding], it was the worst of times [cliquey rancid fan dynamics, hate blogs, harassing fans off tumblr bc ??], it was the age of reason ["robbie as spnwin showrunner is gonna be great, actually"], it was the age of madness [the jivorce, 3am "just trying to cope with this shit" selfie], it was the season of light [castiel the gay angel pride post], it was the season of darkness [dencon 2021], it was the spring of hope [jackles sexy silence], it was the winter of the one year anniversary of 15x18 despair

#i started off with only best of times/worst of times but then i wanted to make a despair joke #spn #destiel

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unproduciblesmackdown · 7 months ago

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omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

#& [it might be 5am but i'll still see if i can draw some] trackpad homemade reacts. inhales & hands to head/face x9 then walking off #site giving pretty random Suggested assortment there where i was like oh right sure. prob not tumblr keywords captures lmaooo #(plus happened to have it open in firefox) but my god Not the scapegoated literal seers lmfao. whoooo. my god #also it was just really good anyways like right nice. damn #the (queerrr) seerrr the perceiverrr the truth tellerrr the ruinerrr the scapegoat be-errr the internalizerrr the neurodivergerrr #& now i Know there is 0% chance ppl weren't putting ''always a gay cousin or it's you (avuncular edition)'' in that thing #family tree design not even leaving space for the hypothetical kids of this relative we mostly pretend is nonexistent hmm #also that necessarily. it's giving all intents & purposes Disability abt a dozen ways & it's saying [accept that] vs [we'd better fix him]#you don't cite said [it's giving disability] as part of the We All Hate The Horrible Little Freak scapegoating justification & then be like #''actually we don't have to do that anymore b/c he's sooo normal :)'' or not if you're serious about [don't scapegoat your family] anyways #which like oh ok they Are serious so The Weirdo's scapegoating / casting out / lack of support Isn't justified #so he's still weird & you just gotta get over that b/c otherwise. bye. having a natural rat affinity is such a slay btw #& we've all been there like ''you NEVER want two scapegoats talking it's Over if they do'' + littlest kid is like um. they're the best #plankton voice Correct! inhale i'm so impressed like. getting to go ''finally someone Normal'' (serious abt letting someone Be Weird(tm))#which also always counts as like mm hard time suggesting someone's Not queer & also autistic for a start lmao. an award #adding in suggested layers like talking to oneself; talking Oddly / w difficulty; physical uncoordination; rituals ; acting; animal friend #the layer of ''& all that's fine? like?'' again rather than him ever suppressing or even changing it so far as it's suggested #besides that it's observed as Weird like but so? or else what? nonrhetorical: hostility / rescinded support & driving someone off is what?#& that Truth like the [worse treatment / exclusion / scapegoat] oft recipe for someone giving the support they're not getting themself #again Never let the [ppl both experiencing this] talk oh it's So over. or the child who's all i like family support & kindness actuallyy...#obviously also like the complete opposite of billions. knowing what they're about & letting this Just As Beloved crucial guy be So Weird #but billions Also [hmm feels right for our scapegoated guy to Perceive / Tell Truths / openly want/need & then be hurt] now get his ass #anyway [guy who could always go way on could go way on but only has thirty tags & it's 6am & i still mean to try some drawing] voice #remarkable amt of So True & ''it feels like ppl on the same page w/exactly what they're doing are all behind this''#remarkable amount of concentrated My God That Is So A Slay located in bruno all at once. what a gift #sticking to ''sometimes someone In Your Group is Weird. Disabled. deal'' firmly enough there's no ;) oh u can bet we'll Fix Him in the end #everyone always assumes the worst so....me when i'm [always as a kid yearning for Living In Secret Passages]. emile gtmpota?#oh congrats to whatever rando who will be having his dramatic gay reunion w/bruno just out of frame obviously. i perceive #now imagine if That rando was....emile gtmpota! what a crossover event. haunting4haunting. do i have enough tags for this lmao. yea #& having 1 more tag to say: as though the [endless serving] isn't enough bruno's also as close to gender envy as it gets. incl rats; sure

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coolauntlilith · 2 years ago

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Every now and then I replay the first episode of VLD and I wonder why I thought it be a good show lol

#mostly just the part where Allura is assigning pilots to lions #why lol. the first five people who show up are just perfect fits?? hate it lol #i have no au plot ideas but itd have made more sense to draw out the forming of voltron. like for a longer time. like its the s1 finale #and to be traveling looking for appropriate pilots #or the s2 finale? like what if the original gang somehow stayed in contact despite not being Voltron paladins and they proved being the best #team despite not piloting immediately. i feel like a stronger plot of their forming teamwork outside of being Voltron would have also made #their friendships seem more real too lmao #like what if Lance IS Blue's pilot bit hes the only one for a long time. the other lions couldn't actually *just be* located #*but. not bit. and what if Pidge runs off in a stolen vessel to find her dad and brother. what if Shiro isnt.. so flat as a character and is #desperate to find his old team and runs off with them to help out and free others #Keith could somehow get involved with The Blades a lot sooner #and Hunk finds his footing as a leader in rebellion organization. i hate that he was just the funny guy allll the way thru #also (still not a plot bc my brain is unorganized lol) Allura doesnt die. Shiro actually gets to be gay with a husband. and we either need #to not make Lotor a villain or just go all out on making him the worst. i personally dont want him to be a villain bc it was stupid lol #also PULEEEAASE Lance is bi. Lance “I'm just getting a feel for the stick” *obsessed with his rival who doesnt even know he exists* McClain #i want to see him get over his crush on Allura within like 6 episodes and then see him making out with the mermaids then Keith when everyone #starts reuniting lol. my bicon Lance deserves to kiss mermaids like we all do and then get on when the otp lol #now im nostalgic for s1 VLD vibes. ya know. before hell lol #it really just gets worse after ... s3? everyone feels different. i usually tolerate up to about the end of s3 before i feel like its donezo #aunt posting #vld #voltron: legendary defender

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thegempage · 10 days ago

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me in the first couple of months after moving, reassuring myself that things always get worse before they get better: hurting is the first step to healing!

me, a year and a month after the move, undeniably happier than i've been in over a decade and yet watching as each one of my maladaptive coping mechanisms falls apart in my hands, leaving me not only without any beneficial, long-term-appropriate coping mechanisms ready on-hand to replace them but also with the ever-growing sense that there is more wrong with me than i ever knew hiding underneath layers of masks and trauma responses: oh so i didn't know fuck or shit

#little rock.txt #venting #long tags #sorry for sad posting so much rn lmao.#unfortunately the voices of my parents reinforcing that i was supposed to be an independent adult after moving out has uh #well it's sort of stranded me without a doctor? for reasons i don't want to get into and involve a lot of being bad at asking for help #so i've been rationing my bipolar medication and i think i'm genuinely having one of the worst depressive episodes i've had in over a decad #it's been three weeks. three weeks. three fucking weeks. three goddamn cursed fucking weeks of this and it's only getting worse #i have to get a refill. it's not optional. unfortunately if i think about asking for help making a doctor's appointment my blood runs cold!#a lot of “asking for help makes me panic” going on actually #i don't think this is what they meant by “you should be able to do things on your own” but oh BOY is it what they fucking got #and it's not like i don't have ACCESS to help!!#jesus fucking christ do i ***know*** i have access to help. hi gay people who live with me #see again. asking for help makes me panic. asking for anything makes me panic #you ever had your hands shake because you wanted to ask for a hug?#you ever ***bailed on asking for a hug*** and dealt with the fall out emotionally of denying yourself any amount of comfort??#it's a nightmare. genuinely a fucking nightmare. fuck me does it suck.#and the best (worst) part of it all is that every moment i am like this i feel incredibly guilty about it ( :#bcus i know i have people who love me and i know they'd help if i asked. i know they would no questions asked #they keep offering. every time i'm having a bad time they offer to help. “whatever you need” i can't tell you what that is #because i don't know and because it makes me panic and because things are worse for other people and because and because and because #jesus FUCKING christ am i full of fucking excuses too #oh and the anger's not helping lmao. look in the mirror and get pissed off at the sniffly bitch there #you ever watched anger manifest on your own face? knowing it's at yourself? it's an experience and a half. don't recommend even a little bi #hey did you know if you have problems with reactive anger and then you don't treat them they don't go away? wild right #sorry. i started rambling. might delete this later

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tonycries · 6 months ago

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My Oh My - R.S.

Synopsis. Trick or treat! The mean ínmate in Room 6/9 doesn’t want halloween candy - he wants something else much, much sweeter.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínmate! Sukuna, slight foódplay, creampíes, bràt-taming, use of “góod girl”, MEAN softíe Sukuna, PÚSSYDRUNK Sukuna, oraI (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s piercings and tattoos, dry-húmping, squírting, spítting, bódy worshíp, exhíbitionism, slight Gojo x Reader, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.7k (sigh)

A/N. Yes, the seventh day of k!nktober had to be Sukuna even tho I’m a Gojo-gagger…

“Nanami chill.”

It’s twelve in the dead of Halloween, and Nanami Kento does, in fact, not chill - not when he’s five hours deep into overtime at the most high security prison in all of Japan, running on only three cups of caffeine and the promise of a day off sometime in the next year.

“You know I can’t do that.” he rubs his throbbing temples, heaving out a sigh as he often does. Taking one long look around the glaringly empty surveillance office, “Especially not today of all days.”

You’re humming in flippant agreement, but that only makes the furrow in your partner’s brows deepen even more. “I know I know. But don’t you think the inmates deserve something a lil’ special today? I mean, he-” Pointing at the grainy CCTV footage on your computer screen - showing one, Ryomen Sukuna, in his padded cell. Watching. Waiting. “-didn’t get a single visitor all year.”

And before Nanami can even think to open his mouth, you’re already dusting down your uniform. Grabbing the bowl of candy propped between you two that you’d swiped from the break room.

“Wait-”

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Now, you’ve always been told that you’re a little softer than most when it comes to your inmates - which perhaps wasn’t the best quality to have when your section was filled to the brim with the most infamous of yakuza and serial criminals. But they respected you. Hell, Nanami loved to roll his eyes at this one but - you think they almost liked you.

Especially Ryomen Sukuna.

You shiver at the long, long list of crimes of his that you had to memorize in your early days - distinctly remembering the way your laptop had crashed with just how far you had to scroll.

Honestly, you weren’t surprised that the most wanted crime boss across the globe wouldn’t get anything other than public threats and a few snarling officers that laugh smugly in his face. Though, you have had to sift out a few perfumed fan mail from time to time.

And even before you’d started this job, you knew of him - who didn’t?

The King of Curses, they called him. And what a king he was.

Some say he was just a crook. Others say he was a beast that seemed like he had four arms and twice the power of any normal human being.

Right before his arrest, the Curses owned half of Japan’s revenue - he was untouchable. With his deceivingly innocent signature pink hair, those circling tattoos all across his body, and the dark, dark bloodthirst to get whatever he wanted. Whenever. And fast.

It’d made international news when he was finally caught - only after a long, agonizing syndicate war between himself and the Six Eyes. It was your first day working here, and you were there to spy it firsthand when he was brought in. Shackles clanking along the metallic prison floor, towering well above the eight officers by his side, being hauled into that specialized cell like some animal.

And, yet, through it all Sukuna was smiling - smiling like he knew something that everyone in this building didn’t.

It still burns into your memory the way he’d stopped right in his tracks for the first time on his way up here, stalling for just a second. Two. Before looking right into your widened eyes, devilish grin only growing at your trembling figure.

Ryomen Sukuna had his eyes on you from the moment those handcuffs locked him in here.

And he still did.

“Hey there, Kuna-” you’re humming after the long, tedious task of unlocking all sixteen padlocks on his heavy metal door. It clamors to a shut behind you with a deafening clang! Locked from the inside. With him. Alone. “How are we doing today?”

Sukuna was sat on the padded floor of his cell, knees brought up to his broad chest. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he almost looked like a scolded child - had it not been for the custom-made metal cuffs that restrained him up to his very forearms. A matching leather muzzle drawn tight to cover half of his pretty face.

He was the very epitome of all you should stay away from in this prison.

And, yet, you find yourself walking towards him, carefully trying not to step on the hefty chains of his shackled ankles.

It surrounds you like an iron serpent, clinking lightly when he’s raising his half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “Heh- will it reduce my sentence if I say s’better now that you’re here, brat?”

Sukuna’s deep baritone was husky with disuse, hitching sharply at the end of his sweet little nickname for you. From what little you could make out behind the muzzle, you catch the slow, sultry curl of his plump lips. “Or should I say-” His gaze trickles down to your glinting golden badge, narrowing. “-officer.”

You’re rolling your eyes, “You and I both know we’re past all that, Sukuna.”

“Not past that enough, dontcha think?” he’s cracking his neck with a slight tilt side by side, as if he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been sitting here until you’d wandered your way inside. Cocking his head up slightly at the small glass bowl still clutched in your hands, “Somethin’ sweet from someone sweet f’me?”

“Oh-” you’re sputtering out. He knew exactly what buttons to push to tease and toy with you without even lifting a finger. “-yes, trick or treat! Since it’s Halloween I thought I might as well share the spirit.”

He’s bellowing out a husky laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest, and you have to tear your eyes away from the slight, sinful sliver of tan skin that peeks out at the jostle of his thin cotton t-shirt.

You hated to admit it - but you almost understood exactly why Sukuna got so many fan letters that you had to throw out. A secret you’d whispered to Nanami over break and then never again after he fully ignored you for a week afterwards.

Sukuna takes his languid time stretching out his limbs, and you get the distinctly hot feeling that he’s doing this on purpose. One eye cracked to watch your every jolt when the hem of his t-shirt raises just a bit too high, when his long, long legs nudging lightly against your feet.

You huff, “Well, would ya like some or not? Because I can just give all of it to Mahito in the next cell-”

“Ah, you’re so damn hot when you’re mad.” he grins, and now you know he’s having fun with you. “Fuckin’ demanding, too.”

He’s bringing up his two firmly restrained arms up to your line of vision. “And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, silly girl, but m’a little ah- preoccupied, here.”

Oh, right.

Shit.

It would’ve been so easy to just move your fingers over to the keys in your backpocket and unlock his handcuffs for the slightest second. So easy to shut his cocky mouth up by doing the very things he knows he won’t goad you into doing.

But you sneak a glimpse up at the camera positioned at the very corner of the room - trained on the hunched over-figures of the two of you - as if to say, “Hey, see, Nanami?”

“Nice try.” And you swear you hear the great Ryomen Sukuna gasp - gasp - a sharp, tiny inhale when you reach out towards the very back of his muzzle. Your fingers scratching up lightly against his silken tresses as you feel for the clasp, letting it fall to the ground in a sad pile. Soft - it’s the first thing on your mind, and the next was how unfairly attractive Sukuna looked without his muzzle. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

He just beams up at you, showing off his slightly sharpened canines. Facial tattoos almost as sinful as the darkened glint in his eyes, “Heh- as if I’d wanna go absolutely anywhere else right now.”

Before you can snap back - or more likely, make a fool out of yourself to his amusement - he cranes his neck desperately upwards. “So? Jus’ gonna stand there givin’ me a pretty view or what?”

Too soon, you’re realizing what he wants.

And too readily, you’re crouching down till you’re eye-level with his greedy gaze. Hastily unwrapping one of the candies, “Open wide.”

Sukuna only grins. “Get closer would ya? M’not a fuckin’ giraffe now, am I?”

Fuck.

Wordlessly, you inch closer.

“Closer. These chains aren’t as long as they look y’know.”

And closer.

“Just a bit more- I don’t bite. Promise.”

And-

“Good girl.”

Before you know it - Sukuna has you exactly where he wants you. Losing your fragile balance to topple over into his awaiting lap, manspread, cushioning your fall. His biceps flex against his restraints, as if some second nature of his wanted to wrap those tattooed arms around your waist.

“I-” you’re gasping, palms gliding over his feeble uniform. Feeling every curve and divot along his hard front- fuck, he felt like a wall of bricks. So toned underneath that fabric, your chin rests softly on the valley between his plush pecs. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“S’perfect though, isn’t it?” he’s cutting you off, leaning in so close now that you could feel your cheeks heat with each of his feverish puffs of air. The very tip of his nose kissing yours. “Now you can reach me- honestly, why complain when life gives ya lemons, woman.”

Your breath hitches, “I…”

“So? Gonna gimme some of that sweetness?”

You’re still unsure of what’s happening. And all you can do is to wordlessly bring the sweet treat up to his lips, almost flinching when the warm softness of his lips brush up against your fingertips.

And shit, you know what it must look like on the outside, you know that Nanami’s probably halfway through jumping out of his seat at the surveillance office already.

But you really can’t bring yourself to think about that right now - not when Sukuna’s wrapping his rosy lips around your fingers. Eyes drooping shut slowly. Lazily. Lingering longer than necessary when his tongue swipes at the candy.

It all but melts in your hand, and as soon as you’re about to pull back-

“Hold right there f’me now.”

You’re sure if Sukuna’s hands were freed then he’d have claimed a strong grip on your wrist already, because he was just nuzzling his face into your touch. Sighing out, “Can’t have my officer all dirty now, can I?”

His long, pink tongue comes up to just drag along your digits, making you keen at the slight scratch of his soft taste buds. One by one. Each of your fingers. Sucking, groaning.

Smiling at you slyly, he’s dragging his tongue in between your index and your middle finger, slurping up all the sweetened candy from before. “What? Cat got yer tongue?”

“Y-you-”

“Y-y-y-you-” he mocks, baritone voice a few octaves dramatically higher than usual. Through his smirk, Sukuna bites down on the very tip of your index, making you wince at the sharp sting of his canines. “If ya got somethin’ to say then spit it out like the big girl you are.”

He’s so leeringly smug, watching back as you struggle to meet his intense gaze as if it was his favorite show. Oh, how he wants to tease you about that little good girl routine you put whenever you stop by his cell - always smiling, always in that snug uniform that made you look so irresistible, always talking to him so sweetly as if he wasn’t the king of curses himself.

Never in his life would he admit it, but it was so…cute.

And Sukuna half-expects you to jump back this very second, to throw another one of your pouts his way and scamper off back to the safety of your office. He expects you to-

“Kiss me.”

Oh.

Fuck.

That was not what Sukuna expected - never in the hundreds of years he was sentenced to rot in this prison.

But, well, looking down at the way you were splayed out so prettily on his lap - your chin jutting forwards, hands steadied on his pecs, glossed-up lips all pursed for him - how could he ever say no?

In a split-second, he’s kissing you.

And you’re kissing him back and fuck- is it intoxicating.

Sukuna meshes his lips against yours so slowly, savoring. Angling his head just enough to suckle on your honeyed lips, you’re feeling his hips gently buck upwards, drinking up your light groans.

You mewl when he slides his soft tongue between your lips. And that’s when you learn that Sukuna has a tongue piercing, cold and metallic against your lips. He tastes so sweet - exactly like the artificial strawberry from the sweet earlier and-

“Hah-” you’re gasping at the soft clink! of something sweet, something hard being placed all prettily right in the middle of your tongue - the candy. Brows raising, “Isn’t that-”

“So what if it is?” he’s grunting, not letting you part too far away before sitting up even straight to surge his lips against yours. Mellow. Addicted. Sukuna just loved how sweet you were on him - even more so than that godforsaken candy. He’s craning upwards to nip lightly at your bottom lip, “Got a problem?”

You were so pliant on top of him, swiveling your hips down lazily at his question instead of answering. Over and over. And Sukuna almost finds it in himself to taunt you until you answer- before one manicured hand of yours grips his face, letting his sharp jaw slack open.

Only giving the candy a few drippingly wet swirls inside your mouth before spitting - a thick wad of candied spit right onto Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue. Glistening against his piercing.

And he takes it.

Surprisingly, hypnotically takes it.

He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he mouths in that tiny piece of strawberry candy back. You hear the crunch! of it underneath his teeth, kissing you even deeper to show off how he’d swallowed every tiny shard.

Curling his legs around your form, it’s all it takes for his gaze to drop half-lidded, chest panting - heaving - he smiles a dangerous curve of his lips against yours.

Sharp teeth glinting against your own, he chuckles. “I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, dontcha think, brat?”

You can only take it when he rolls his yearning hips up into yours. You feel so dizzy at the massive outline of his half-hardened cock underneath you - solid, thorough inches girthing upwards against your heated cunt.

“But first-” His teeth bite down on your lower lip, and he pulls. “-think m’gonna hafta hah- teach ya to be a good girl f’me.”

Clang!

All of a sudden, the heavy ripping of metal rings across your dazed head - and Sukuna’s just tearing apart his durable metallic handcuffs as if they were made of nothing but paper.

“What-” you gasp rubs over where the tough restraints had rubbed his skin redly raw, oh he just basks in all your sputtering disbelief. “You could remove it- but- but that was special grade?”

“Ya really thought a pile of trash like that would keep me put? Of course, I could fuckin’ get out, don’t be silly, woman.” He quirks a slitted brow with genuine confusion - almost as if he was offended at the very thought. And before you know it, Sukuna’s throwing away the useless pieces of junk towards a nestled corner of the cell - hitting exactly on the bullseye of that damn CCTV he hated so much. Both of you watch when it topples brokenly to the ground. He hums, low and sultry, “I just hadn’t found a good ‘nough reason until now.”

Almost immediately, his hands are on you. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Coaxing such pretty whines out of you when Sukuna ravages along every inch of your body, large calloused palms kneading down your tits, your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Ohh- this s’the life.” he groans, all ten of his thick digits squeezing and teasing you. He’s leaning down to nip lightly at your ear lobe, “Almost makes me forget what a naughty girl ya actually are.”

“I’m not-” you answer immediately, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended and both of you know that.

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna jostles the two of you so that you’re fully laid out across his hulking body now, and you’re squirming already - desperately trying to wiggle your hips down to where he was throbbing. To glide the sopping wet place between your thighs down his rock-hard erection. For this, you’re gifted with a branding slap! on the curve of your ass, Sukuna holding you firmly in place. “Doesn’t explain why you’re already s’fuckin’ wet like a slut, my pretty baby.”

You lick up the tattoo on his chin, “But- but Kuna-”

Another needy grind - another smack.

“Now what did I jus’ fuckin’ say?” he hisses, and the primal rasp in his tone just makes you drenched.

And Sukuna notices - of course, he notices. Drunken red eyes widening, oh, he could almost feel how fucking soaking you were through all those clothes. Too many clothes, in his opinion.

Which is why he has one hand fisting furiously at your smart uniform shirt, not a single word or apology uttered before he just shreds it right off your heaving chest.

“Oh my god-” you squeal, your hands coming up to clutch at the tatters of fabric and your badge. And your lips pout out in such a way that makes his cock just twitch, mumbling out stubbornly, “That was my new uniform-”

“S’what happens when ya get too greedy like this.” His knees raise up a bit more to rub your glissading cunt along the very curve of his fat tip. Just dragging your dripping cunt all along his bulging dick, reveling in the sticky schwf! schwf! schwf! of wet fabric. Sukuna gives an impatient tug on the fabric of your pants, “Now get rid of this before I tear that off, too.”

You couldn’t shuffle out of your belt and trousers fast enough. And oh, even that wasn’t enough for Sukuna - dazedly flinging off what remained of your shirt, your bra, before turning his eyes downwards and-

“Oh, good girl.” he whispers at the sight of you in nothing but your flimsy excuse of panties. So soaked - translucent, even - your saturated juices making such a glossy mess at your inner thighs. He can’t help but flick at the tiny bow on your underwear, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

“K-Kuna-” you’re barely even thinking at this point, panting. “Wan’ to feel you–”

He’s tittering a breathy moan disguised as a laugh at this, bringing up a hand to cup your cheeks. “Awww, my pretty baby wants my cock?” he coos, squeezing in two of his thick fingers between your lips.

But if Sukuna was looking for an answer, then he doesn’t wait for it.

A spit-glossed pout finds its way to his lips, mocking your own. And fuck, he was such a little tease. One hand giving your ass another slap! just to watch you whine and pretend that it didn’t make your pussy even more embarrassingly wet - shit, he was having fun. The other pulling out from inside your mouth, delicate strings of spit snap when he’s gliding his coated digits down, down, down-

“Oh-” you tuck your trembly head into the crook of his neck when Sukuna drags his thumb just across your puffed-up pussy lips. Slowly. Tantalizingly.

“Oh?” he huffs out, licking his lips at just how steamingly wet you were inside. So ready for him. “‘Oh’ is all?”

Sukuna plants another lingering smack on your ass, and by now you’re sure by now he’s left the bumpy imprint of all five fingers on your flesh. Tracing between your swollen folds gingerly with just the rounded tip of his finger up and down up and down. He gets greedy.

“Damn brat-” And it’s all the warning you get before he just forces two of his fat fingers into your messily throbbing pussy. Rubbing all around your tightly quivering entrance, “S’what I get for spoiling you too much.”

There’s no hiding from the way he stretches you open so obscenely, having your sloppy hole just gaping around his digits. All wet and cozy inside.

“Oh- m-more-” you mewl.

But he only continues rubbing saturated little circles around your teasing entrance, humming hotly against your lips. “Hmm, dunno. Think we hafta teach you some manners, silly girl.” And each of his fingers were so thick, stretching out the channel of your cunt until your mouth watered. Your body was limp, hips stuttering down softly into his hold - trying so uselessly to fuck yourself back down onto him, as if he wasn’t easily holding you still with just one beefy arm around your waist. “How about a ‘please’ first?”

You scramble to dig your nails into his bulky deltoids, tracing around his circular tattoos peeking out. “P-please!”

“Nuh uh-” he snickers. “No stutterin’”

“Please!”

Sukuna pretends to think for a few syrupy slow seconds. He nips down softly at the sensitive spots on your neck, having you trembling like a feather in his vice-like grasp. “How about a ‘pretty please’?”

And oh, he grins at the way you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, your pouty lower lip wobbly with effort. Trying so desperately to comply with the demands of your inmate, you buck your hips so that the soft mountains on his palm graze against your clit. Whimpering, “Wh-what if I w-walked away right now, Kuna?”

“My my, resorting to threats?” he’s whispering filthily in your ear. “Now I know you’re bluffin’ woman. Because I hngh- also know-” So smug when he tugs down the soft cotton of his pants just enough to let his achy cock spring free. “That you’re gonna stay n’ beg f’me like the good girl you are.”

And you hated that he was right.

You hated that he was so big.

Hefty girth slapping up onto his abs with a wet smack! Sukuna’s red, rounded tip was so thick that you could feel your thighs clench, swiping up a glossy glide of precum onto his t-shirt. Drip! Drip! dripping along the crevices of his veins and down to his eager balls, those tufts of pink at his base. All his solid inches winked up at you glisteningly in the harsh cell light. Just waiting. Throbbing.

It made your mouth water.

So you finally answer, voice strained and breaking at the very end. “I- I wan’ you really badly, Kuna.” He sucks in a breath when you bat your teary lashes up at him, “Pretty please?”

“My good girl.”

At this very moment, the only other response you get is a sensual, slow drag of his fingers out of your cunt. The exact opposite of what you wanted - because, of course, this was Ryomen Sukuna. You whine, clawing desperately at his wrist to try and reel him back.

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Almost hypnotized in the way he brings his drenched fingers up into his mouth without a second thought. Sukuna moans at the taste. A glossy trail of your messy slick forms down the corner of his slurping mouth, and he throws his head back with a guttural, “Oh fuck- s’sweeter than any of that hah- candy.”

Ah, that did it.

Only milliseconds later, you’re being spread all flat on the floor with one swift shove of Sukuna’s big arms, panties sliding easily down your shivering thighs. It really doesn’t take much to have your dangling legs splayed out across his sculpted back, his own body shuffling down ravenously to come lips-to-lips with your puffy pussy.

And oh you can feel his smile against your dripping wet cunt, half-lidded eyes boring right up into yours. Long, pinkish tongue lolling out like he was utterly fucked - and if you angled your head just right you could see the way he was deftly spreading both of your swollen folds, the very tip of the hot muscle kissing wetly against your sloppy entrance.

“Shiiiit-” your fingers tangle themselves in his rusty pink hair. Hips jittery and bucking up drunkenly against the cool surface to chase his hot mouth. “Oh- ngh- Love havin’ your m-mouth on me- ngh-”

“Gettin’ all mouthy w’me, huh? Aren’t ya embarrassed to be absolutely ruined like this by a criminal like me?” he huffs out a bout of raspy laughter. “S’all because you decided to be a- fuck- a good- girl f’me, that’s- what.” Struggling to even get out coherent sentences because he didn’t want to part from your pretty pussy. Instead kissing all over again and again-

The bulbous metal stud of his tongue piercing thrashes up so filthily against your hot clit, coating the sensitive nub in all of his heady, swelteringly hot saliva.

And the only time you’re registering Sukuna break away just mere inches is to spit. Once. Twice.

Thumbing across the stream of see-through spit he just grins up at you in a way you knew to be a pussydrunken expression. Glassy eyes almost drooping shut, tiny dimples cratering at the very ends of his lips, the entire lower half of his face covered in a shiny sheen of slick. Drip! Drip! Drip! right onto the middle of your shamefully spread cunt.

“Ya got me thinkin’ I’d wanna live out my entire life sentences jus’ for a taste of this pretty pussy, woman.”

Roughly lapping with his tongue against your clit, each one pulling out crashing waves of white-hot pleasure that make you all but sob when Sukuna unabashedly adds in his fingers past your gummy hole.

“You can take it-” he hushes out uncharacteristically soothingly into your inner thighs, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along them. “Take ‘em f’me.”

Sukuna isn’t shy about immediately dragging his fingers along your sopping wet folds. Starting up a ruthless, simpering pace thrusting inside and out of your drooling entrance has you whining.

“Oh.” your mouth slack-jaws open deliriously, and for the second time tonight you feel like you’re being absolutely split-apart on his thick fingers. Splaying out a hand to glide across your tummy, “You- hngh- you already feel s-so deep, Kuna.”

Your words were cracking with a whimper each time he’s delving into your gushing depths. Building you up, wringing you taut with pleasure whenever he picked up the pace. Alternating between harsh sucks on your cunt and the absolute meanest of swipes against the spongy placeholders of your sweet spots.

“Already?” he has the audacity to cackle - cackle right in front of your teary face. “M’barely even f-fingering this pussy n’ you wanna talk about deep- lemme show ya-” He spares not even the tiniest ounce of mercy when hauling your boneless body even closer. Brows furrowing at the knocking of his chin at the very base of your cunt, the way his jaw grinded. Sukuna replaces the hand on your stomach with his own free one, guiding it up, up, up until your eyes widened and you could feel your breath tightening in your chest.

“Here.” Drawing a burning, imaginary line about halfway through - “Here is where my cock s’gonna be so ya better get- better get ready for that, pretty baby.” Looking right in your eyes, Sukuna’s tone is laced with a vicious sort of snarl when he plows on, “Because my good girl s’gonna be able to take it.”

And you’d heard of the type or orgasms that leave you speechless, that leave you so blindsided that you don’t even realize you’re having them.

Because it takes only a few more expert tweaks of Sukuna’s lengthy fingers up against every nook and crevice of your. Scissoring, swirling - round and round until he was dredging up your dizzying orgasm.

“Oh my god- I think I’m-” your words are garbling together pathetically, wet and as unsteady as each jolt of electricity running down your spine. “I’m-”

“Cumming.” he’s cutting through, tugging you by the thighs even closer to make out impossibly deeper with your convulsing pussy. Rolling his eyes, “I know I know, just shut up n’ cum all over my mouth would ya?”

It’s not like you could do anything else.

And - as a little punishment - your grip tightens searingly on his scalp, just dragging your drooling pussy all over his pretty features. Letting yourself gush all down his tongue in a steady trickle while you ride him to your heart’s content.

“Heh- getting so fuckin’- hngh- fucking greedy, aren’t ya?” he mutters out over wet slurps. Still hammering in the pads of his fingers to press up harshly into your bulging sensitive spots. “S’alright. Use me then, use me-”

Your back arches almost painfully, vision tinging with slight black at the edges, and it’s as if you were out of control at this point.

“Now now, what do you think you’re doin’ huh?” he feeds into each of your stuttering, slick glides down into his palm while you come down from your high. Eyes narrowing down at you, “And here I thought you were turnin’ into my- hah- g-good girl. Where are those hands going, huh?”

Shit, you didn’t even realize it at first.

Your hands are wandering so sluttily down to where his thickened base was just twitching in his lap. Aching to wrap your trembly fingers wrapping around him - struggling to even close.

“Oh- oh my god.” your eyes widen after a few sloppy drags of your soft palm down his length. Curving it slightly to the side at the sight of another one of his signature ringed tattoos - right around his fat base. “You have another tattoo here?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, hips rutting upwards at a sloppy staccato in synchronization with his hands and yours. “Yeah- n’ I already know you love it-” he shudders out, chest panting. “-because I can already feel just how much wetter ya got- shit-”

With all of his almost-inhuman strength, it’s almost too easy for Sukuna to drag your body downwards to his like some silly little ragdoll.

“Kuna–” you’re dragging out in a breathy tone. Your hands shakily tugging on his t-shirt - your mind finally clear enough to realize that he was still fully clothed while you bare and fucked-out already underneath him. “Wan’ this off-”

Smack!

“Forgettin’ your place, aren’t ya, pretty baby?” he growls, but fuck did Sukuna think you looked so utterly gorgeous like this. All pouty and teary, letting out the cutest whines while you waited for him to do exactly what you said.

And, well, he might be the notorious king of curses, the most wanted criminal in all of Japan - but that didn’t mean that Sukuna was any match for you.

“M’only listenin’ because you were so f-fuckin’ good f’me hngh- earlier, brat.” he spits out. Hastily ridding himself of both that paper-thin t-shirt and pants - not tearing, you note with slight disgruntlement. Kissing your ass with another smack of his palm for good measure. You wince when he flicks your forehead, “So ya better not let it get to that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

But fuck, was it so difficult not to.

Sukuna was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all sculpted muscle and what looked to be miles upon miles of tanned skin that you just wanted to bite into. And you realize - with a jolt - that when those other inmates rumored he had tattoos everywhere - they weren’t lying. Thick, circular rings that highlight his bulging biceps, those toned thighs as far as your eye could see.

Now you really understood the fan mail.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Those drippingly wet smacks this time didn’t come from Sukuna’s hands on your ass - instead, it was from calculated, purposeful little slaps of his thick cock onto your clit.

“Heh, as much as I love to have my- ngh! my cute lil’ officer ogling me-” His hand coming up to curl around your throat, forcing you to peer downwards. “-I’d rather you look where it r-really matters, silly girl.”

He sounded so proud - barely lucid already at the very sight of your tight, glistening hole kissing up against his fat tip.

Dragging a thumb down your wet slit to grin at the size difference even further, he purrs, “Yeah…this pussy has been givin’ me a real treat tonight. Might as well give her one back, hm?”

And he’s so big, so full that you can’t even whine out anything coherent when Sukuna sinks into your sloppy cunt inch by fucking solid inch. Pushing past that ring of feeble resistance, your pussy was greedily swallowing up every bit of his massive girth. Letting out the cutest squelches that make him moan.

“Oh- would ya look at that?” he bares his teeth in a devilish smile. Head thrown back at how you’re already clamping and trying to milk him with your velvety walls. “Takin’ me so well, ya really are such a good girl, huh?”

Each and every hoarse little praise is panted raggedly against your ear, and your pussy slides up and down his swollen shaft in a sultry back and forth. And Sukuna just can’t tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows him up so greedily - so frantically like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him.

“Kuna- hngh!” your thighs quiver up and down. Hips moving in slow gyrations against how he was rummaging all inside you. “Y-you’re stretching me out so good ah-”

He’s still trying to squeeze inside, still pushing and pushing. Pressing a hand down on your stomach, “Told you I’d be right-” Bottoming out. Hard. “-here.”

Each and every juttering ram into your gooey depths have you keening, and his eyes growing even wilder. Grin curling upwards at how every kiss of the very tip of his rotund cock has your spongy cervix bouncing into him, your walls pulsing where he swipes inside. Looking for-

“Fuck!”

That.

“Heheh- hope ya can take it, brat. Because once I start-” he presses hot peck after peck down your jaw. “I can’t stop.”

You learn very quickly that that wasn’t a threat - it was a promise.

Every plunge into your melty pussy has you almost bawling, because Sukuna wasn’t gentle - no, he doesn’t even ease you into it. The soft curve of his head presses in so harshly against your bulging g-spot, so thoroughly in rough, wet glides. Each single hammer upwards sinking against wherever drove out the prettiest moans from your pouty lips, having you such a shaky mess underneath of him.

Exactly how he’s been wanting you this past year in confinement.

“W-what-” you sputter out, dragging your nails across his neck to mash your lips onto his. Tasting the candy and you and the candy- “This past year?”

Oh. Shit.

“Heheh- did I say that out loud?” Sukuna rumbles, struggling to catch his breath while he swallows back each keened-out whimper threatening to break out from his lips. He gives your tongue a slow, tasteful suck. “Whoops- hah fuuuuck- you see what this pussy does t’me?”

He brings one large hand down to your jittery hips, the other drawing a tender stripe across your still-sensitive clit. That heavenly feeling just makes you clench, and Sukuna to throw his head back with a withering groan. “S’fuckin’ dangerous- you’re more fuckin’ dangerous than me- hah-”

You giggle at the way he was running his mouth now, sentences slurring together like he couldn’t even find the words.

“You see this-” he pants, so sensitive that Sukuna can’t help but tuck his face into the crook of your neck. And you feel the burning flush of his cheeks, the way he brings your hand up to pat his plush pec, thumping thunderously underneath his heated skin. “-got me fuckin’ crazy here- ngh! M’on my knees for you n’ you’re all here actin’ like such a good girl.”

As he babbles, Sukuna actually falls back onto his knees.

Dragging you right along with him to spearhead his cock vertically into your snug channel, his powerful thighs are thrusting up, up, up-

“Oh-” You’re wrapping your arms tightly around his neck when faced with another stinging smack! And this time he takes the opportunity to roll his fat thumb even deeply against your clit. “S’so-”

Sukuna’s eyes were half-lidded now, grumbling out little profanities into your mouth. “What? Can’t even speak now?” He chuckles - but it sounds higher-pitched, breathless like he was fucking losing it. “Doesn’t- ngh- doesn’t matter- this cunt is speakin’ ‘nough for the both of ya. Why dontcha act like my good girl n’ ask what she’s sayin’?”

God, your face burned with such mortification - and it’s all you can do to dart a bleary look towards that smashed CCTV camera once more. Gulping out a breathy, “Wh-what is she ah- sayin’, Kuna?” over those deafening squelch! squelch! squelches.

He positively beams, “She’s saying…” Nipping down on your lower lip, tasting that familiar strawberry on your tongue. “-that right about now she’s gonna cum.”

And sure enough, a particularly harsh clashing glide across your g-spot has you sobbing, has you twitching - it has you cumming. Over and over all over Sukuna’s relentless cock, and not just that-

“Shit, woman.” Sukuna stares, jaw-dropped in awe at the absolute mess your overwhelmed cunt was gushing out. Coating his erratic thighs in a wet gleam of all your juices, it seeps into his skin, dripping down the curve of his legs and onto the padded floors. “Fuckin’ squirted all over me, you’re fuckin’ ah- unreal- fuck–”

If he couldn’t maintain that gruff tone of it that’s because he was genuinely in heaven. Mouth watering, achy cock twitching up into the cushiony sides of your walls once.

Before he’s shooting such a sloppy load into your already-messed-up pussy, dumping out thick volumes of seed again and again. It sloshes in all over your insides with every quivering wave of your own orgasm, seeping out from the edges of your sopping slit. Slobbering. Overspilling.

Sukuna grunts, feeling you shift gingerly up and down to milk each of his stringy ribbons of cum, leaving sinful dredge after dredge that paints a creamy white ring around his base.

“Fuckin’ wastin’ it-” he’s jeering, plugging in one of his indexes into your already fully-stuffed entrance. “Better keep that shit all inside- m’not gonna let my good girl waste it, m’kay?”

“Mhm.” you nod, your drowsy body leaning heavily into his. And Sukuna wraps both his strong arms around you to just pin you to his body. “Might jus’ be the best Halloween I’ve ever had-”

“It fuckin’ better be or so help me-”

SLAM!

“Yo, King of Curses~” both of you snap your heads over to the sudden intruder that’d just crashed the bolted cell door open. He was tall, enveloped by the harsh light from behind - but you could make out those features anywhere. Any guard in this prison could. Throwing over a heavy leather jacket Sukuna’s way, “I tried to wait until your pillowtalk was over but Nanamin can only hold off the bastards on morning shift for so long. So ah chop chop, Suguru’s already waiting for us.”

Gojo Satoru.

Leader of Six Eyes, foe of Ryomen Sukuna.

Looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you, “Or, well, if your cute lil’ officer’s coming, too, then we could continue this when we get back to the hideout. Don’t you think, sweetheart~”

And Sukuna, oh Sukuna was scowling ever so slightly at the other’s words - but he only had eyes for you. “So, whaddaya say, brat?”

---

In the hazy haven of the surveillance room, Nanami lets out a deep shudder. Head thrown back against his leather chair, he takes a few bleary moments to collect his breath.

“Fuck…” he groans, placing that small handheld camera monitor on the table. A secret one. One that no one working in this prison building - and least of all you - knew about. All of that had been an accident, really - an unintentional part of the plan. But the way that Nanami has to drag his boxers upwards, zipping his uniform pants back up wasn’t.

Taking a steadying gulp, he throws away that soiled tissue. Fingers punching in a few numbers on his phone, all according to his rehearsed script. “Yes, hello?” watching the monitor unwavering. Unsurprised. “We might have a situation.”

A/N. *BAM* hits you with random plottwist.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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unma · 7 months ago

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So I've calmed down. After today's events I find myself even more vindicated in my hatred for my family, but that's neither here nor there. I'm not trying to vent so often on this blog (feels too oversharey), so instead I'll let y'all know that my birthday is in two weeks! Specifically the 24th. So that's cool.

#unma rambles #ignore the tags below I was only going to mention the uni stuff and then things just kinda started rolling out and now it feels like a-#waste to delete them #I'll be heading to uni on the 22nd for orientation on the 23rd though #so that's another year in a row of depressing shit happening around my birthday #at least this time it's something somewhat good (uni) and not my dad shipping me off to a camp I insisted I didn't want to go to #to the point that he forcibly packed my things and made it so I couldn't go back home otherwise that Sunday #which I still haven't forgiven him for #(man every time I think about them I remember something that makes me hate my parents. funny how that works.#It's almost like there's nothing good to remember)#fyi the uni is a christian university that requires attending service for credits which is why I'm not happy #reminder: I'm agnostic but was raised christian in a christian family #and an acquaintance from church is also going to that uni. and attending the same course #which isn't the end of the world but I can't help but feel bummed out #because I just know someone's gonna use her to see how I'm doing since I never answer phone calls #wow I said I wouldn't vent but here I am #tbf my reaction to this is more disappointment and mild annoyance than the depressive spirals I used to deal with #so I guess that means I'm improving #or that it's not big enough of a problem for it to trigger that #oh well #all of this means I'm not exactly looking forward to my birthday but I've never looked forward to one since I was 10 #so that's just typical at this point #hm come to think of it the camp thing isn't the only thing that happened near my birthday and resulted in depressive spirals huh #kinda sounds to me like my birthdays have just sucked #at best they were meh and at worst they sucked to the point I look forward to one where nothing happens at this point #that happened once #my birthday had nothing done for it because of reasons (I don't blame my parents for this they had valid reasons to do so)#and I just forgot about it #the tags of my post that was supposed to be about my birthday was not where I expected to unpack my shitty experiences with past birthdays #but here I am I guess

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reignpage · 8 days ago

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Mornings with Husband!Nanami

He finds mornings bittersweet.

On one hand, he has to go to work, and worst of all, leave you. And on the other, he gets to see a side of you he only sees in the early hours of the day, when most of the city seem to still be asleep and he gets to catch sight of your slumbering face without you knowing and grumbling about it.

Husband!Nanami always has the ring on his alarm off. So instead of that obnoxious blaring, he’s instead woken up by vibrations which rumble under his pillow. Why does he do that?

Well, of course, because he doesn’t want to wake you.

Even before you two officially began dating, you made it abundantly clear how much you hate waking up early. And then when you had started dating, you made it exponentially clearer how much you absolutely, irrevocably despise — nay, resent! — having to part ways with his warm, solid body.

Husband!Nanami slides himself out of bed, dressed only in his boxers, and he tucks the covers back over you, smiling to himself as you snuggle against his pillow.

Once showered, he makes a quick breakfast and makes sure there’s a fresh pot of coffee for you before he heads back into the room to change as quietly as possible. Tiptoeing, he makes his way around the room, avoiding the parts of the floor that creak. And despite his best efforts, his darling wife apparently has instincts a successful sorcerer with quality skills and talents cannot overcome.

“Kenny,” you groan out.

Husband!Nanami sighs, mentally kicking himself for his carelessness. “Morning, sweetheart. I’m so sorry for waking you.”

“Mmm, it’ll be okay if you kiss me.”

He watches you push yourself up with your eyes closed just as he buttons his shirt. There’s a sleepy smile on his face that’s dazzling and your eyes are compelled by that divine light to open just enough to beckon him over.

Husband!Nanami loves to tease, so he says, “I’d love to, darling, but your morning breath is infamously deadly.”

A laugh is startled out of him by the finger you shove in the air.

Husband!Nanami can’t ever say no to you. He just can’t. He’s tried a couple times: when you asked for a parrot, when you wanted to squeeze him in a pretty dress of yours, and when you tried to propose to him.

Sometimes he was successful. Sometimes he wasn’t. This time is the latter.

“Alright, but just one kiss, okay? And then I have to go. Promise me, honey.”

Husband!Nanami knows you have your fingers crossed behind your back when you nod with a cheesy grin, citing, “Scout’s Honour!”

And just as he suspects, you do not stick to your promise and he finds himself wrestled into bed with your surprising strength — though, he won’t admit that he doesn’t exactly fight your hulk-like grip.

Husband!Nanami arrives at work right on time, which by his standards is late, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, when he settles into his office, he’s opening the picture you sent him and it's an arrow to the heart. You're in bed wearing his shirt, and just his shirt, with the most adorable pout ever. It takes him all his strength to fight the urge to drive home and bury himself in your arms…

Maybe even between your legs, but that’s lunchtime’s problem.

Husband!Nanami can't wait.

#jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk drabble #nanami x reader #Nanami Kento #nanami x you #nanami drabble #nanami oneshot #nanami fluff

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solxamber · 2 months ago

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You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie

Other Parts: Housewardens; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver, Rollo

Trey Clover

The argument wasn’t a loud one—no shouting, no slamming doors—just tense words exchanged with too much weight behind them. Trey’s voice had been steady, but his usual patience was stretched thin.

You, equally frustrated, had decided that the best course of action was to remove yourself before either of you said something you’d regret.

So, with a sigh, you grabbed a blanket and made your way to the couch, settling in with your back turned toward the bedroom.

Trey let out a heavy exhale behind you, but he didn’t stop you.

You shifted, adjusting the blanket, willing yourself to fall asleep. It didn’t work. The room was too quiet, too heavy with the remnants of unspoken words. You half-expected Trey to leave you there and go to bed, but then—soft footsteps. A rustle of fabric.

Kneeling beside the couch, Trey placed a hand on the cushion near your arm. His voice was quiet, steady in a way that made something in your chest ache.

“Come back to bed.”

You closed your eyes. “Not yet.”

A pause. Then, a soft sigh. Trey stood. For a moment, you thought he was giving up, finally going to bed without you. The thought left an unexpected hollowness in your chest.

But then, after a few minutes, he returned. You smelled the milk before you saw it—the faint scent of vanilla and honey curling through the air. When you cracked an eye open, there he was, sitting on the floor near the couch, a mug in his hands. He held it out to you.

“Here,” he said. “I know you have trouble sleeping when you’re upset.”

You blinked at him, heart squeezing against your ribs. “Trey…”

He didn’t push, didn’t insist. He just waited, his eyes gentle, patient in the way only he could be.

And just like that, your frustration melted. You took the mug, letting the warmth seep into your fingers. Trey didn’t move, just watched you with that quiet steadiness. Then, softly, he asked again,

“Come back to bed?”

This time, you didn’t hesitate.

You set the mug aside and sat up, only for Trey to immediately wrap his arms around you. His hold was firm, grounding. He buried his face in your shoulder and murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him just as tightly. “I’m sorry too.”

Neither of you moved for a long moment, staying there in the quiet. Eventually, Trey pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead.

“C’mon,” he said, voice low, warm. “Let’s go to sleep.”

And this time, when he led you back to bed, you followed without hesitation.

Ruggie Bucchi

The couch wasn’t comfortable. You knew it, and Ruggie knew it. But right now, your stubbornness outweighed your need for a good night’s sleep. You yanked the blanket over yourself, muttering under your breath as you tried to arrange the cushions into something remotely acceptable.

Across the room, Ruggie watched you with wide, calculating eyes. He hadn’t said anything since you stormed off, but you could feel him thinking. And then—

“You remember when you ate my last donut?” he started, voice small.

You froze, narrowing your eyes. “…What?”

“My last donut. You ate it, and you said—” He changed his voice in a mocking impression of you. “‘I owe you one, Ruggie, I swear. Anything you want.’”

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “Oh my —”

“But it’s fine,” he continued, so dramatically forlorn you almost threw the pillow at him. “I guess I’ll just be all alone in that big, cold bed. No warmth. No love. Just me. Shivering.”

You lifted your head, ready to tell him off, but then—oh, no.

He hit you with the look.

Ears drooping. Tail flicking. Wide, guilt-inducing eyes that shimmered just enough to make your resolve crack.

You exhaled sharply, dropping your head back down. “You’re the worst.”

He didn’t respond. Just fidgeted. Shuffled his feet like he was actually nervous you’d say no.

And that? That got you.

With a groan of defeat, you sighed and opened your arms. That was all he needed. Ruggie practically launched himself onto the couch, slotting himself beside you in a space absolutely not designed for two people. His weight pressed against you, his tail flicking lazily as he tucked his head under your chin.

“…Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your shirt.

“Shut up.”

His arms tightened around you. A quiet beat passed, then—

“Sorry.”

Your hand found its way into his hair, carding through the strands. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

Ruggie hummed, content. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and despite the ridiculousness of it all, sleep found you too.

Jade Leech

The couch was lumpy. Or maybe you were just too angry to get comfortable. Either way, you buried your face into the pillow, inhaling deeply through your nose to keep yourself from snapping again. You just needed some space. Needed to not be in the same room as Jade and his infuriating, calmly amused expression.

“I can’t be around you right now,” you had told him before marching off, voice tight with frustration. And for once, he didn’t push. Didn’t smirk or throw another veiled comment your way. He simply inclined his head, watching as you all but collapsed onto the couch.

Now, wrapped in a too-thin blanket, you willed yourself to sleep. You were almost there—drifting, fading—when fingers ghosted over your hair.

Your breath caught, but you kept still.

Soft strokes. Careful, reverent, as if he thought you might break. It was so unlike him, so gentle, that you almost cracked your eyes open to confirm it was really happening. Then—

“…I’m so sorry.”

The whisper was barely there. But it wasn’t the words that made your heart lurch—it was the way his voice shook.

Jade Leech, ever unflappable, sounded unsteady.

He pulled back, and you knew he was about to leave. That should have been fine. You should have let him go.

But your bleeding heart had other plans.

Your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he could slip away.

He barely had time to react before you yanked him back—maybe a little too hard, because the next thing you knew, he was crashing onto the couch with you. A rare, wide-eyed look of surprise flashed across his face, so fleeting you almost thought you imagined it.

And then you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Jade froze.

“I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “We can talk in the morning.”

For a long moment, he just looked at you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slow and deliberate, he dipped down and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“…Very well,” he whispered.

His weight settled beside you, and this time, when you drifted off, it was to the sound of his steady breathing, warm and close beside you.

The couch standoff had been going on for way too long.

“I’m sleeping here,” you declared, arms crossed as you planted yourself firmly onto the cushions.

“No, you’re not,” Jamil shot back, equally stubborn. “I am.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not taking the bed while you sleep out here.”

“And I’m not letting you sleep out here while I take the bed.” His arms were crossed now too, mirroring your posture, his sharp gaze unwavering.

For a moment, the tension held. Then, something about the sheer ridiculousness of it all hit you—both of you too annoyed to back down but too caring to let the other suffer the discomfort of the couch.

A laugh bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it. You covered your mouth, but the moment you let out even the smallest chuckle, Jamil’s eyes flickered with reluctant amusement. He exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head.

“This is stupid,” you admitted between giggles.

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. It is.”

You grinned. “Bed?”

Jamil didn’t hesitate. “Bed.”

The moment you both settled under the blankets, the last traces of tension melted away. His arms instinctively curled around you, pulling you close, and you let yourself relax into his warmth.

“Sorry,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

His grip tightened, lips brushing against your hair. “Me too.”

Neither of you said anything else. You didn’t need to. The steady rhythm of his breathing and the way he held you just a little closer said enough.

Rook arguing with you was already unexpected. That he let you march off to the couch without a poetic declaration or dramatic plea? Unheard of.

You cocooned yourself in the blanket, stubbornly facing the back of the couch. The silence felt unnatural—too quiet for someone like Rook. A part of you expected him to suddenly recite a Shakespearean sonnet about lovers quarreling.

Instead, something even more ridiculous happened.

You shifted slightly, just enough to glance toward the floor—and there he was.

Laying down right beside the couch on a thin blanket, arms crossed behind his head as though he had chosen the most luxurious sleeping arrangement in the world. His golden hair fanned out on the hardwood floor, and despite the clear insanity of the situation, he looked perfectly content.

You stared. Blinked. “Rook.”

“Oui, mon amour?”

“You’re on the floor.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re going to get sick.”

“Then I shall suffer beautifully, just as you do now, exiled from the comfort of our bed.” His eyes twinkled, completely unrepentant. “If my beloved must endure the cruel fate of sleeping alone, then I shall share in their hardship.”

You pressed your fingers to your temples. “Rook, go to bed.”

“I am in bed.”

“No, you’re on the floor, being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Ah, ma chérie, I am simply a devoted man.”

You groaned, throwing your arm over your face, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. It was impossible to stay mad when he was like this. Ridiculous. Completely, helplessly devoted.

Sighing, you reached out and flicked his forehead. He gasped theatrically, touching the spot as though you had struck him with Cupid’s arrow. Before he could say something absurd, you leaned down and kissed the spot gently.

“Come to bed, you idiot.”

His eyes widened slightly before his lips stretched into a dazzling smile. Without hesitation, he stood—and then immediately scooped you into his arms.

“Rook—?!?”

“Ah, mon amour, such sweet mercy! Allow me to carry you away from this exile!” He spun dramatically, pressing an exaggerated kiss to your forehead before striding toward the bedroom.

You should have expected nothing less.

You sighed against his shoulder, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you adore me.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

Lilia Vanrouge

You had firmly decided that you weren’t going to sleep in the same bed as Lilia tonight.

You needed space. You needed time to cool off. You needed—

Blink.

One second, you were wrapped in your blanket on the couch. The next? You were in bed.

You shot up, heart pounding. Lilia stood at the bedside, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Lilia.” Your voice was dangerously even.

“Yes, my dear?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you teleport me?”

A smug smile. “Would you rather I carried you?”

Oh, you were about to start another argument—

But then you noticed something. In his hands: a pillow and his own blanket.

You frowned. “What are you doing?”

Lilia hummed, casual as anything. “If my beloved insists on sleeping elsewhere, then I shall take the couch in their place. I have endured far worse in my lifetime—” his eyes twinkled mischievously “—but I’d hate for you to wake up with an aching back.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the mattress. “That’s so unfair.”

“To be this thoughtful and charming? I know.”

You shot him a look, but he simply smiled. You hated how sweet he could be even when you were still irritated.

With an exasperated sigh, you sat up and grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward you. He followed easily, his blanket forgotten as he slipped into bed. Without hesitation, he wrapped himself around you, chin resting atop your head.

His voice softened. “I’m sorry, dear.”

You exhaled, tension leaving your body as you relaxed into his hold. “…I’m sorry too.”

His lips brushed against your temple, and with that, the night’s quarrel was put to rest.

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