#just last week i posted about him being on the bathroom rug!

[lunarflwrs]

&

[captainsophiestark]

Weekend Plans

Jason Todd x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: Jason's SO finds out that he's the Red Hood in some sub-optimal circumstances.

Word Count: 1,639

Category: Fluff, Humor, Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed as I turned out the bathroom light and headed for bed. Today had been a long day, and I couldn't wait to get some sleep.

Normally, after particularly tiring days (which happened more often than I'd like as an ER doctor), I'd text my boyfriend or vice versa and he'd come over with our favorite foods, the two of us leaning against each other on the couch and watching our favorite shows until we eventually passed out. Unfortunately, he had to work tonight. We'd made plans to make up for it this weekend instead, but tonight I was on my own.

I climbed under the covers and turned out my light, and I was almost all the way asleep when the sound of my window opening dragged me back awake. That window was always locked—maybe I was hearing things?

Thump. A heavy sound like someone hitting the floor came from right next to my bed. No way I'd imagined that.

Slowly, I eased open my eyes, too scared to move an inch. It was hard to make things out as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, until my heart almost stopped dead in my chest.

The Red Hood was laying on my carpet, flat on the floor, his feet still caught on the windowsill he'd just crawled over.

My mind raced. What the hell was he doing here? And what the hell was I supposed to do about it? Most of what I'd heard about the Red Hood painted him as the protector of the most vulnerable people in the worst parts of Gotham—but then why had he just broken into my apartment?

My racing train of thought was derailed as the vigilante groaned and shifted on the carpet. He rolled over until he was facing me, the eyes of his helmet providing the only source of light in the room. I froze, stiff as a board, my heart threatening to beat all the way out of my chest. What was he going to do?

Slowly, two gloved hands reached up towards his helmet. He must've pushed a buton, because I heard a hiss and a click before he moved to take his helmet off.

"Wait-" I said, starting to sit up in bed at last. I had no idea what was happening, but the Red Hood revealing his identity to me didn't seem like a good omen for anything. The vigilante ignored me though, and a moment later I froze all over again, sitting on the edge of my bed as I took in his face.

Jason Todd. My boyfriend, the man I'd finally worked up the courage to say "I love you" to a few weeks ago. Laying on my floor after breaking in through my window as Red Hood.

"Y/N..." He groaned my name, and all the shock was putshed out by immediate concern for whatever had him laying on the floor of my room like this. I stood, pulling his legs the rest of the way thorugh the window and shutting it, then dropped to my knees on the floor next to him.

"Jason..." I breathed. "What happened?"

"I... got shot. I didn't have anywhere else to go, I couldn't think of anywhere else I could make it to..."

My eyes scanned his body again, this time with a little less shock clouding my vision. He had a wound in his side, the one against the ground, and it was currently leaking blood onto my rug. I swore.

"Jason, is anybody following you? The person who shot you, or anyone with them?"

Jason groaned and shook his head.

"I made sure they weren't. I couldn't risk leading them back to you."

"Okay. Just stay right here, I'll be right back."

I jumped up and hustled into the hall to grab my first kit. I tried to focus on taking deep breaths as I flipped the lights on and returned to Jason, dropping to my knees next to him.

"Okay, Jay, I'm gonna roll you over, alright?"

"Yeah," he managed to grind out.

Working together, it didn't take long to get Jason on his back. I quickly pulled up his shirt to get a look at the wound, and about half the tension eased out of my shoulders. The entry and exit wounds were clean, and it didn't look like it had hit anything serious, although the blood loss from exerting himself running all over the city before he got to me certainly wasn't good.

"Alright, this isn't as bad as I worried it might be. As long as you get some rest, you should heal up fine. Do you think you can make it to the bathroom if I help? It'll be easier to get you cleaned up in there."

Jason nodded, taking a couple deep breaths as he did.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I can."

"Okay. Nice and easy, let's go."

Jason was so tall and so heavy, but between his sheer grit and the last of my adrenaline, we managed to get into the bathroom together. I eased him down on the edge of the tub, then paused before pulling back.

"Do you think you can keep yourself upright here? Or do we need to get you laying down?"

Jason took a few deep breaths in and out, his hands clutching the edge of the tub. Then, he finally looked up at me.

"I'm good."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Really? Because this is not the time for bullshit macho nonsense-"

"Sweetheart, I promise. I'm good. Or at least I will be, as long as you get me stitched up."

I sighed. "So I take it that means you're not gonna let me call 9-1-1 and get you to a hospital?"

"No. I get anywhere near one, and I'll either be arrested or dead before I'm all the way healed."

"Great. Then I guess we're doing this."

I took a deep breath and tried to steel myself for the procedure about to come. All of this was just about the last thing I wanted to deal with after the day I'd had. Jason hurt, relying on me to help him, and apparently the man behind the masked vigilante Red Hood. But I could deal with all of that later. After Jason was stable.

I left my apartment and emotions behind as I got into the zone dealing with Jason. He was tough as nails all through the process, although this actually probably wasn't his first gun shot. Finally, I finished and the bleeding stopped. I sat back against my bathroom cabinet with a heavy sigh and just looked at Jason.

"What... the actual... fuck?" I breathed. All the things I'd shoved aside to cope with the crisis were officially rushing back in. Jason huffed a laugh and shook his head, then slowly eased himself off the edge of the tub. I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you pop one of your stitches, I swear-"

"I won't, I'm not going far."

He settled in on the floor next to me, shoulder to shoulder, then sighed.

"I'm sorry about this. For just showing up, and... for how you just found everything out."

I sighed. "Jay, you know I've never minded you just showing up. But... were you ever going to tell me? Like, if you didn't have to tell me because you got shot... would I ever have found out that you're secretly the Red Hood?"

"Of course I was going to tell you," Jason said, his voice a low rumble. "I love you, I'd never keep something like that from you forever. I was just... trying to figure out how to do it. I mean seriously, how the hell was I supposed to start that conversation?"

A tired smile made its way onto my face, and I leaned a bit into Jason.

"How about 'knock knock, who's there? Me, the Red Hood. That's right, I've got something to tell you'."

Jason snorted, his hand immediately flying to the wound in his side as he fought back a laugh. I just grinned.

"Yeah, it's a really good thing you're not the one with the secret identity to disclose."

"Mmm, I don't know, I think there's something to my approach. Or how about 'what has two thumbs and-'"

"Okay, you have to stop. I'm gonna pop a stitch if you keep going."

"Well, lucky for you, you're dating a doctor."

"Lucky for me I'm dating you. Seriously, I half expected you to scream and run out of the room when you saw me."

"After the day I had at the hospital? I wouldn't have the energy for that kind of panic, honestly."

Jason huffed a laugh and wrapped one arm aorund my shoulders.

"Sorry for adding to the length of that day."

"It's okay, Jay." I sighed and turned to face him, just managing enough energy to smile. "I'm always happy to see you, and even though this obviously wasn't the ideal way for me to find out... I'm glad I know about this part of your life now."

"Me too."

I met his gorgeous blue eyes, the ones the mask had hidden from me at first, and smiled. Jason's expression mirrored my own, and a moment later, he was leaning forward, closing the gap between us with a glance at my lilps. I helped him close the rest of the distance, his soft lips gently finding mine. We stayed like that for a few seconds, until I finally pulled back.

"We should go to bed, Jay."

Jason grinned at me. "Happily, sweetheart."

"Not like that," I said, rolling my eyes and giving him a light smack in the arm. "Not while you're recovering from a bullet wound."

Jason sighed dramatically, and I couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Fine. Help me get to bed then?"

"Of course. And tomorrow, after we've slept in past noon, I'll make us some breakfast and you can answer my million questions about all this Red Hood shit."

"And then I can help you clean the blood off your bedroom floor."

"Sounds like the perfect weekend plan."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ MORNING SICKNESS: SHANKS

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Being pregnant with Luffy, your first child with your husband Shanks, is a dream come true... But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with the recurring nausea."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : TRANS MASC! Reader, TRANS MALE! reader, FTM reader, pregnant men, he/his pronouns, gay relationship, gay marriage, two daddies being happy, Shanks is an over-the-top father and husband, Luffy is your son's name, Shanks calls himself Daddy and calls you Papa (revenge against fan fiction with the reader being called Mama) Nausea due to pregnancy, Shanks is a very worried father and husband

꒰ WC ꒱ : 676

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : I've been on a roller coaster these last few weeks and I had decided to post on Saturday thanks to Bibi, but I almost changed my mind, I decided to be strong and post even though I was feeling like shit. I'm kind of excited but also extremely unsure about entering the world of imagines male, well we'll see how it goes

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And just like the last few nights you were abruptly woken from your not-so-peaceful sleep by the incredible need to throw up all your dinner. Your body was sweaty and hot even though you were sleeping wearing just a huge shirt from Shanks — one that he bought the wrong size and it was big even on him so it was huge on you — and your kitten print underwear that you got from a joke of Shanks in a Christmas prank.

The bedroom window was open, now with a mosquito screen since your husband was paranoid about you being bitten by an insect and dying since your pregnancy announcement, and you took advantage of the light breeze to sit on the bed and calm down a little to see if the nausea went away. There was a humidifier running, the curtains swayed slightly, and there was a child's light in the room that Shanks had bought in fear of you tripping when you got up in the dark and hurting yourself.

Sometimes you questioned whether Shanks knew that you weren't that fragile just because you were pregnant, after all you were proud of all your strength and masculine muscles... But you wouldn't deny that his extra care calmed your heart a lot. The bed was also huge, the redhead wanted to buy a bigger one after reading news about parents crushing their children for sleeping together in small beds, of course there was no point in explaining to him that this was sensational news since before you could argue he had already ordered it and paid for the new furniture.

A kick in the stomach and your dinner turning around as it climbed up your throat made you stop remembering how careful your sleeping husband was, you quickly got out of the soft covers and ran to the bedroom's bathroom. You quickly knelt on the rug in front of the toilet and it wasn't long before you were vomiting again, you loved your baby and you loved being pregnant, but you would also love to stop vomiting everything you tried to swallow.

“huh, he woke up early today” Shanks yawned as he awkwardly entered the bathroom, luckily the room was big enough for both of you.

“I shouldn’t have had dinner” you mumbled nauseously as you rested your head on the cold part of the white ceramic.

“You always say that but you always have dinner… Honestly you haven't stopped eating since you got pregnant” Shanks laughed and sat next to you, taking a towel from the cupboard and slowly wiping your face.

“It’s not me… It’s Luffy… He’s hungry like you” you teased Shanks.

“Of course… Hungry like his daddy and hyperactive like his papa” Shanks responded to the provocation and you knew he was right. If your unborn child was hungry because of the redhead, then he was also hyperactive because of you. Since, as everyone always said, you had extreme difficulty sitting around doing nothing, always looking for something to do and have fun.

“The perfect combination” you laughed tiredly as you felt the nausea slowly going away.

“Completely perfect… But look, this kid will find himself with me when he's born, making my husband vomit everything I cook for him” Shanks snorted, pretending to be irritated “He's thinking that money falls on trees so I can spend it on food and he can make you put it out?!”

You laughed but soon felt some light kicks in your stomach that made you both gasp.

“I think that was Lu telling you to go all out and he’s going to kick your old ass” you laughed, rubbing your stomach affectionately.

“Brat… Stubborn like his papa” the redhead laughed and gave you a wink “Okay, let's get you off the ground and put you in front of the window… And get you a glass of water too” the man smiled as he stood up ready to help you.

Maybe pregnancy wouldn't be so terrible if you had a husband who was so worried about you…

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[literallyjustanerd]

Good Boy (Tup X F!Reader smut)

One of my New Year's resolutions is to be more shameless. So enjoy some utter filth, courtesy of someone who thinks there can always be more dominant-reader smut out there.

Description: You're unwinding at 79s after a long week, when you spot a certain clone watching you from across the floor. One who gives you other ideas about how to destress. Words: 3.3k Content: Praise kink, hair pulling, dom reader, oral sex, bathroom sex, minor 501st shenanigans Rating: 18+ (minors fuck off. please.)

Taglist: @freesia-writes @wolffegirlsunite @clonethirstingisreal @trixie2023

You’re four drinks in, and you’re starting to feel it. A pleasant little buzz tickles the back of your brain, just enough to shake off the last of the week’s tension. Propping one elbow back against the bar, you survey the dancefloor of 79s from over the rim of your spotchka soda. Before you is a rolling sea of bodies, pushed and pulled by the thundering bass like a relentless tide. You’re drawn in by the undertow, a hypnotic beat swaying your hips as you join the crowd and quickly find yourself lost in the rhythm. Taken far from the stress of a long, long work week. Stars, you’d needed this.

You come back to yourself after who-knows-how-long to the nagging feeling that someone’s eyes are on you. A quick scan of the crowd finds no obvious onlookers. Not that you’d be opposed to that: there’s a reason you pay the extra cab fare to the clone-dominated bar on the surface instead of settling for the cheap lower-level clubs. But just when you’re about to push the feeling aside, you spot him. Big, brown eyes, tucked into the corner of the room, trying hard to look like he’s not watching.

He’s in a private booth toward the back of the bar: the 501st’s usual post. Maybe you should feel a little sheepish about being at 79s enough to know that. But locking eyes with the trooper across the room, you can’t feel anything but intrigue. Only a split second passes before he looks away, skittish and, you could swear, shy. Nothing like the other clones you’d encountered here, all show and bravado: the other 501st members being among the biggest offenders. But this one? He has the same (handsome, rugged, chiselled) face as the other clones. But something about him feels different. Softer, gentler. He laughs at something one of his brothers says, and the way his smile creases those tooka eyes has your gut clenching. And that top knot? …Well. Maybe you needed to blow off some more steam than you’d realised. He’s making an effort to keep his attention away from you, but after a few long moments, his eyes betray him, and he meets your gaze once more. Here we go. You raise your glass in his direction, adding a wink for good measure. His eyes widen, and he nearly chokes on the drink he’s tipped up. You’re grinning, you realise, as you let yourself fade into the music again, working your hips a little more deliberately as you weave through the crowd to the back corner.

You don’t rush. It’s half the fun, playing the game, drawing it out, drinking in the anticipation. He’s trying, poor thing, to keep his cool, but by the time you reach the edge of the crowd and approach the booth, he’s visibly flustered. You’re close enough now to see the teardrop tattoo adorning his cheek. Is it an attempt to seem as tough as the other clones? Or an embracing of his more sensitive nature? You’re hoping, if you play your cards right, that you might just find out.

The other 501st troopers leave you no room to speak when they notice you, falling over each other to offer you a drink and a seat. You pay them no mind, taking a step toward the middle of the booth. “Hey. What’s your name?” Silence. The other clones watch, shocked and grinning. One of them, a Republic cog tattoo across his face, elbows his brother in the side to jog him into speaking. “Tup,” he says, and asks you your name in return. You smile as you tell him. “I haven’t seen you here before.” Another clone, goateed, speaks up, topping Tup’s glass up from a large bottle. “He’s fresh off Kamino. First time out,” he smirks. “We wanted to show him a good time. Maybe you wanna help?” You can’t help but find it cute how instantly his brothers become willing wingmen. And how bashful Tup looks when it's mentioned that it's his first time. The two either side of him barely contain their excitement when you extend your hand. “Maybe I do. Can I buy you a drink, Tup?”

His mouth opens, though it takes a long moment before he can summon the words. In the end, the “yes, please,” he stammers is drowned out by the cheers and taunts of his brothers. They all but shove him out of his seat and toward you, whooping and making crass jokes that turn poor Tup’s cheeks several shades darker. Lacing your fingers with his, you pull him in close and lead both of you back to the bar.

As timid as he seems, he’s just as eager, and twice as polite.. While you wait for the bartender to pour your drinks, he’s already asking you about yourself, where you’re from, how often you’re here, what you do for work. By the time you take your glasses and find a corner of the bar to stand at, you’re surprisingly invested in the conversation. He’s a natural gentleman, and a much better listener than most people you’ve picked up in bars before. When there's a moment's pause in the conversation, he tightens his grip on his drink and takes a slow breath.  “You… You look beautiful tonight,” he says, so earnestly that you almost melt. It makes you all the more determined to show him a good time, especially when you see how pleased he looks as you thank him for the compliment, how happy he seems with himself for managing to say it at all.

You turn the talk to him when you can find a gap in his thoughtful questions, and try to return the favour. Tup gushes about the rest of the 501st at the slightest chance he gets. It’s clear he looks up to them: he talks about them like they’re his older brothers. The stories he shares have him more at ease, though he still looks like a tooka in headlights when you reach out and run your fingers over his neatly-tied hair. You're suddenly fighting the impulse to pull it free, to tangle it all up in your fingers and play with it. Later. “Haven’t seen many other clones with hair like this,” you say. “It's gorgeous.” Tup's mouth pulls into a wide, beaming smile, colour flooding his cheeks. He tries to bury his sheepishness behind his drink. Cute. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “The boys say it suits me. It's nice to have something different from them.” You almost kiss him right then and there. But you resist. There's still more to show him. “Do you want to dance?” you ask. He swallows hard, then nods, and lets you lead him to the dancefloor.

Even if you hadn’t been told that this was Tup’s first outing, it would still be as clear as the blinding neon lights around you. He’s painfully still, stiff and off-beat. Laying a hand on the pauldron at his shoulder, you lean in to speak into his ear. “It’s okay,” you say, as gently as you can over the thundering music. “Just relax. Follow my lead.” His hand twitches in yours when you guide it to the arch of your waist. You find yourself glad you’d picked the black dress tonight: it’s thin, with cut-outs and panels of mesh that let you feel his fingers on your skin. Starting slow, you coax Tup into a gentle twist to the beat. Before long, he’s easing into it. Following your lead, just as directed. It’s a kind of high, this feeling of confidence, of control. Of being trusted. Tup’s simple swaying grows to a roll of his hips, each one betraying more heavy intent. When he seems comfortable enough, you reach out one hand to his side, and pull him in close.  “Are you having fun?” you ask, your lips inches from the shell of his ear. “Do you want to keep going?” He gives a shallow nod, and forces a low, breathy, “Yes.”

Reassured and wanting more, you tighten your grip on his hip as you dance. The distance between you has closed, the two of you drawn in magnetically. You wish you could press fully against him, but the hard planes of his armour keep you from feeling him like you want to. It’s maddening, only adding to the growing heat under your skin. Roaming fingers find a gap above his cuisse, teasing where his skin is covered only by a thin body sock. At the same time, Tup's hands on your waist creep lower. When you give the flesh a squeeze, relishing the feel of firm muscle under your grip, you could swear you hear a whine escape Tup’s throat. He does the same, bunching the hem of your dress in his fingers, deliciously firm. “You’re good at this,” he mumbles. You run a hand over his arm, squeezing the flesh below his pauldron. “So are you.”

When you pull back to look at him, the smile that settles on his face is brighter, sharper. There’s a spark of mischief in his eye, one that you can’t help but find endearing despite the ache between your legs. It’s driving you to impatience, your mind clouding over with all the things you want to do with -and to- this gorgeous, gentle, genuine man. You’re not sure how much longer you can last out here. You’re closer again, each grind of his body now presses one thick thigh directly to your core. Your pulse quickens. The music throbs around you, filling your head and pounding in the hollow of your chest. The air turns electric. Your hands at his back. Your breath on his ear. Tup’s greedy, devious touch dipping low, then lower. Low enough to grip a handful of your ass and squeeze, tight, dragging your pussy against his thigh. You thrust against the plate of his armour, turning to press your lips to his neck.

“Good boy.” 

You hadn’t meant to let it out. It had floated into your mind on the haze of your pleasure and slipped from your mouth in a low purr, all before you could think to hold it back. But before you can worry you’ve taken it too far, Tup’s head falls forward against you. He groans, heavy and stuttering, burrowing into the warmth of your neck. His eyes shut tight. His breath thick, searing on your skin.

Oh.

When he comes back out of hyperspace, his eyes are blown wide. There’s something under his gaze, something feral. You clench around nothing, driven wild by one thought: you’re going to bring that something to the surface, to see what else is lurking down there, waiting to be drawn out. Movements sharpened by lust and high on power, you hook two fingers into Tup’s belt and pull him toward the edge of the crowd. “Come with me,” you say. It’s not a question. Tup looks up. As though entranced, his feet move. He lets you lead him down the dark corridor, stopping at one of the bathrooms. 

The music dulls when you shut the door and snap the lock, sealing out the rest of the bar and leaving the two of you alone. You hadn’t realised how heavy you were breathing, not until you hear it in your ears and feel the heaving of your chest. Crowded close to you in the small space, Tup is faring no better. His eyes are laser focused on you, heady, hazy, and searching. A bright flush paints his desire clear across his cheeks, his lips parted enticingly. Curling locks have broken loose from his neat top knot. The loose strands catch the meagre light in the bathroom, glowing gold in a crown over his head. You open your mouth to speak, to check one final time that Tup is comfortable, that this is what he wants. Your answer comes before you can utter a single word: Tup takes your opened lips as his opportunity, and his mouth crashes against yours, swallowing your words and smothering your pleasantly startled moan. 

He's not patient. Despite his earlier shyness, or perhaps because of it, his kiss is frenzied, desperate and hungry. There are hands at your waist, your neck, your hips, your back, unable to settle anywhere for long. Like he's afraid the moment will be cut short, like he won’t get the chance to do everything he wants to. Wanting to reassure him, you lift a hand to cup his jaw. Your thumb traces teasing little arcs, feather-soft, across his cheek. “You feel good. Doing so good,” you coax, words muffled against his mouth. A low, shuddering breath fans your lips, and his grip on your upper thigh turns vice-like. You're pushed back, caged against the wall, your leg hauled up to hook around Tup’s hip while he drives relentlessly forward in rolling thrusts, chasing his own pleasure, grinding against you. Each wave sends flames licking up your spine, the hard plastoid of his armour unforgiving. It's too much, and it's not enough. You swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, tasting spotchka and something sweet as his mouth opens wider to let you in. The hot, heavy slide of your tongues together goads Tup on. The hand that isn’t holding your thigh creeps up your waist to the curve of your breast, gripping just hard enough that the pleasure verges on pain. You moan into Tup’s mouth, and, shyness be damned, he grins.

Not to be outdone, you give in to the impulse you’ve been fighting all night, and reach up to pull his hair free from its knot. It cascades down to skim his shoulders, gently curling now that it’s not pulled tight. Sharp nails rasp across his scalp as you gather a handful, tangling it in your fingers. You pull back from his lips, leaving him chasing you for more until you move to mouth at his neck, nipping at his jaw and the soft skin below his ear. At the same time, you clench your fist, twisting and pulling his hair roughly. Tup’s knees almost buckle. A ragged, broken moan wracks his chest.

“Kriff, please.” The words are torn from his throat, voice fraying at the edges. You smile against his neck, tilting until your lips graze his ear as you reply. “Please what?” you tease, head spinning with your own power. “Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?” Need and anticipation saturate the air as Tup struggles to catch his breath enough to speak. He mumbles something faint and slurred into your shoulder. Leaning back as much as you can while still shoved up against the wall, you use your grip on Tup’s hair, guiding him up to meet your gaze. “You can do better than that. Tell me what you want, Tup.” Whining like a puppy, Tup’s eyelids flutter. You feel him swallow, his throat dry. Still, he wills his clumsy lips around the words, glazed eyes heavy on yours. “Want to taste you. Let me taste you. Please.”

You hadn't realised until that exact moment how soaking wet he’s gotten you, how near your own limits you are. When you hear the desperation in his words, his eagerness to please, you have to take a moment yourself before you regain your composure.

“Good,” you breathe. “Now… on your knees.”

The hand in Tup’s hair tugs downward, and Tup follows instantly, greaves hitting the floor with a dull thud. You hadn't thought he could get any more gorgeous. But kneeling before you, his big, brown eyes haloed by dark curls, your breath is stolen by more than lust. With trembling fingers, he slides your dress up, cresting the swell of your hips. The cold air on your flushed skin sends you shuddering. Your eyes fall shut, a hum deep in your throat quickly growing to a growl when you feel him tug your underwear down. Every inch of exposed skin feels electric, buzzing, sizzling like a lit fuse. Tup’s eyes flit from your exposed cunt up to look at you, kiss-swollen lips hanging ajar. Keeping your gaze locked, he leans in, breathes deep, and opens his mouth around you.

What he lacks in experience, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm. You don’t hesitate to tell him what to do, giving orders he follows with a true soldier’s precision and rigour. Each pass of his tongue coils you a little tighter, tracing lines of pleasure from you until it sweeps low to dip into your entrance. The angle presses the strong curve of his nose against your clit, and suddenly his shoulders are the only thing keeping you off the floor. “Good– mmph, good boy,” you heave, breathing short and sharp against the relentless pleasure. “You feel so good, Tup, don’t stop.”

The moan that spills from his lips hits right at your core, sending your cunt clenching around his tongue. He’s strung out, verging on animal, devouring you like a starving man, your slick coating his nose and running down his chin. He reaches up to clutch at you, at your ass and the backs of your thighs. Even through his gloves, his nails dig into your skin, little pinpricks of pleasure-pain like bright, burning comets among a glittering starfield. “‘M close,” you tell him, grinding forward against his mouth. “That’s it, just a little more. Just need–” Too pleasure-drunk to form the words, you find your punishing grip on his hair again and pull, dragging his lips up to your clit and pressing him in hard. He obeys instantly, sealing his lips around the little bud and sucking. You throw your head back against the wall, your mouth gaping wide around a silent scream. It’s already too much. You fist both your hands in Tup’s hair and clench tight, fighting hard to control the peak, to ride the wave without losing yourself. But then, that clever tongue circles across the tip of your clit. Gently, brutally, just barely ghosting across the white-hot nerves. 

Your mind fails you. Static fills your vision. Your ears are stuffed full of cotton. The air in your lungs turns to wildfire. The world outside shatters into a million tiny shards, until all that remains is you and Tup’s devastating touch, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of you that he can get.

You can’t say how long you drift out in oblivion before your senses begin to return. When you think you can trust your legs to hold your weight, you release Tup. He sits back on his knees, struggling to catch his breath, and it occurs to you with some embarrassment that you might have held him to you a little too tightly. He’s still panting as you pull your underwear up and shimmy your dress back down. Still, it doesn’t seem to bother him. On the contrary, he looks wrecked. He’s smiling wide, dazed and giddy, hair mussed, lips and nose glistening with evidence of his good work. You reach down to caress his cheek, and he leans into the touch, turning his head to press a wet kiss against your palm.

“Was it good?” he asks, sounding far too sweet for someone looking so utterly debauched. Your smile warms him, and his shoulders pull back in pride when you tell him, “It was perfect. You were perfect.” For a long moment the two of you stay like that, your gasping breaths gradually slowing and fading. Outside the bathroom door, the music continues to pound, a gentle reminder. Tup stands. His brothers are no doubt wondering where he’s gone. And yet…

“I–If you want to go–” You cut Tup off when he starts to speak, pressing a finger to his lips. “You were so good for me,” you say, hands searching around Tup’s waist until you find the latch you’re looking for. You lean in for a kiss, tasting your own release on his tongue. Tup’s crotchplate falls to the floor as you speak against his lips. “It’s only fair that I return the favour. Right?”

[fexiana]

update on EuphoriaSims

I haven’t posted in almost a week but that doesn’t mean I’m not creating 😁🧡 I see 23 votes so far and 48 hours remaining on my last post/poll. Thank you to those who participated in voting. May I reiterate that I am asking for a reason, so stay tuned 😉.

Since my last video, I realized the script I have in store for my next episode requires the New Year house and Lexi’s house. I finished the New Year house two days ago focusing mainly on the infamous bathroom that Nate and Cassie were in, the hallway Lexi asks Maddy if she’s seen Cassie in plus the hallway where Maddy pounds on that infamous bathroom door, the living room where Fez and Lexi catch up since the last time they saw each other, and the bar/kitchen where Fez beats Nate up. Although I don’t plan on including this scene in this episode, I also wanted to add that I furnished the washroom where Rue encounters Elliot “fixing the washing machine” 😆.

As of right now, I am completing Lexi’s house which is taking some time as I have to find reference videos and am constantly having to manipulate walls and rooms when I think I have the layout figured out 🫠. I’m a perfectionist and focus on the little details but today I told myself “self, it’s okay if you can’t find the exact cc you’re looking for. Just finish it already!” And even though I told myself that 🥴 I’m not going to rush to finish, but I’ll definitely stop being anal about the cc. I’ve always had the room Cassie and Lexi share completed 2 years ago (as well as Fezco’s house and Fezco’s business) but what I’ve been working on is the downstairs part of the Howard house that I didn’t touch until after the New Year house just recently.

Downstairs I have completed the paint and brick wallpaper in their right placements, as close as I could find: carpet and wood flooring, the foyer and rug placement, short stairway placements, and hallway furnishings. I don’t have the room Cassie confronts Lexi and Suze in before Lexi visits Fez done yet but I have a shell of the room and the wood panel wallpaper ready, same for the room Lexi, Kat and Maddy were in when Rue told on Cassie about messing with Nate, but I have the wallpaper and carpet done. What I am working on right now is the kitchen. I’m upset that I can’t find the wine wall art cc for sims 4 that is similar to the one Lexi was sitting in front of in the kitchen when she was talking to Fez on the phone about him wanting to be a farmer 🥹. There isn’t a single wine wall art cc for sims 4 as a matter of fact, forget I even said similar. It’s really bothering me but I’ll try to find something close to it. The dining room that Cal confronts Lexi and Cassie in about who beat up Nate is nearly done too but I’m still looking up reference videos to make sure it all sides of the dining room are covered or as close to it.

Other than the two rooms downstairs that I at least have a shell of while I work on the kitchen, I also have the wash room and patio with the hot tub to complete. So that’s four rooms I have to finish in total after the kitchen which I plan to have all done by the end of this week. Since I am done with the New Year house as far as the important rooms for particular scenes, you can expect some screenshots very soon 🙂. I will also take screenshots of Lexi’s house once I am done and share with you 🧡.

Stay tuned and please feel free to ask me any questions or leave any comments as well as send private messages. I am open to new ideas and respect and appreciate anyone’s advice or input on EuphoriaSims. Keep me motivated💌❣️

-Bless bless, one Love 🌩️

[thethistlegirlwrites]

♔ : Finding the other wearing their clothes ♖: Having their hair washed by the other ♗: One falling asleep with their head in the other’s lap .♙: Sharing a bed Sierra and Shay too

Thanks for the ask @nade2308!! I had to put these two in their own post but here they are!

One of the worst parts of being a vampire is getting cold in summer in LA. Shay is well aware he's one of the only people wearing a hoodie when even after the sun goes down the pavement is simmering with heat and the air temperature doesn't drop more than a few degrees. He's honestly sort of surprised to see Sierra half-drowning in one as she lugs the laundry basket into the apartment and drops it on the rug next to the couch. "Are you wearing my sweatshirt?" "The laundry room in the basement is frigid," Sierra complains, voice muffled by the part of the hood that crosses in front, as she fishes out a pair of mismatched socks and folds them together anyway.  Shay sort of thought it was just him who noticed that when it's his week for laundry. "I'll give it back in a few minutes. It's warm in here." Sierra continues to sort through the clothes, flinging t-shirts onto the couch in loose piles based on who they belong to. "I didn't realize community laundry meant the clothes became community property," Shay jokes. "Hey, you're welcome to wear my t-shirt next time you do it," she replies. Shay shudders at the thought of trying to squeeze into the shirt she's just flung onto her stack. He's pretty sure he'd never get it off again. "No, I'm good."

"Thanks for the help," Sierra says. "I don't mind. Except for the part where I'm washing your hair again because you threw yourself off a second story balcony after a vampire mobster. Again, somehow." "Not again. The last time it was that vigilante guy." Sierra almost sits up, then remembers her hair is all in the sink and if she sits up too fast she's going to fling water all over them both and the bathroom. "He was just human. If you can call someone who staked a couple confused teenage fledglings human." "Ok." Shay is chuckling. "My point is, you should probably try to stop breaking bones." "I'm not just going to let them get away." "You don't work alone."  Ouch. That almost hurts more than the broken wrist. The one part of her vigilante days she can't seem to shake is the instinctive sense that if she doesn't get the job done, no one will. "I know that." "I really don't think so. You have teammates you can call for backup. You know Pete would have had the van across that alley in seconds if you'd told him." Sierra starts to nod, then feels Shay's fingers pull a little in her tangled hair at the motion. "It still takes time. For me to call, him to answer, him to start the van..." "That's not why you jumped." She's not talking her way out of this. Not with someone who knows her this well. "Next time, at least try to think about the fact that there are people you can trust to help you, okay?" She feels the swish of water rinsing her hair, hands too gentle to believe they belong to a creature she thought was a killer lifting and carding through it. "I think I can do that."

Stakeouts are incredibly boring until they're not. Sierra's eaten a bag of spicy lime potato chips, turned the radio on low and then off again when she got tired of the commercials three times, and now she's leaned over in the seat, sort of resting against Shay's shoulder, dozing while it's his turn to watch the dark warehouse. She's drooling on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and there's a smear of reddish chip powder from the corner of her lip when she slid down from his shoulder to closer to his elbow. Her neck is tilted sideways, the blue vein below her jaw visible, the pulse fluttering in her throat. It's far from the first time she's fallen asleep next to him. It's the nature of the job. But it is the first time he's seen her do it so casually. As if there's nothing different about him than there would be if it was Pete or Wren or Saanvi in the car with her. Like she doesn't need to protect herself from the monster inside him. No careful arrangement of her posture, no subtle defense of her vulnerable neck. He turns back to the windshield and lets her sleep.

"I'm going to kill Pete," Sierra mutters. "He was in charge of room reservations." "It's probably just because everything around here was booked for the hunter convention and very few places allow vampires when they know what they are, which after tomorrow, is not going to be an easy thing for me to hide in town." "You can give him the benefit of the doubt all you want. I'm going to kill him." Sierra looks around the single room. Sure, they're here to do something vitally important. Like convince the National Huntmaster's Office, based on her strike team's performance, that hunters and vampires can work hand in hand. She still thinks maybe it's not too late to turn around and drive back to LA. Because really, Pete? One room, with one bed? "He probably thought it was fine. We share an apartment," Shay says, tossing his own small bag onto the chair in the corner. He slides his case of home earth under the bed. "You better wear socks. You have cold feet." Sierra fake-glares at him. "I will. I promise." He kicks off his shoes and flops down onto the bed, making the springs creak. "It's not tiny." "If it was, you'd be sleeping on the floor." Sierra kicks off her own boots. She might as well get a nap in before the opening session. She's sure Shay is feeling the effects of a day trip in a car, even with UV shielding. "If you kick me, I will roll you out of the bed onto the floor, no hesitation. I'm not kidding," she says, even as Shay chuckles and shifts so he's lying on his side facing her. "Didn't doubt it." He grins, fangs showing. "I promise, I won't bite you." "So reassuring." Sierra rolls her eyes. "Go to sleep," he mutters. "You first, Shane Barrett."

From this ask game

[xsoldier]

Trigger warning: Medical things & loss

Friday, I got a particular vibe from Niles, so we just hung out. I got him his favourite little turtle and brought it over to him, hand fed him some food and water so he didn't need to get up, and just sat with him letting him know he was loved and took some pictures with him.

Saturday, I spent the day in the hospital because of post-COVID muscle stuff making it excruciatingly painful to breathe or cough, and got a bunch of blood work as well as a contrast scan to make sure my lungs were ok (they are). Got sent home and had a prescription for pain meds to pick up the next day, so I rested to dull the pain, got up to microwave some food as I hadn't really eaten, visited Niles and pet him resting on the bathroom rug as usual, checked on my food and then heard something and came around to see him vomiting up a massive amount of blood.

Adrenaline instantly managed the pain (since I couldn't get meds until the morning), called someone to get a ride to the emergency vet, called the vet to make sure we were coming, cleaned Niles up calmly, grabbed his blanket from my bed, and the travel carrier for him rather than the vet carrier. Unlike other times, he wasn't panicked and hyperventilating when we got there. His pain meds and my change of context for transport all just had him totally calm.

With his multiple ongoing health things (hyperthyroidism, hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, and bladder stones), I knew he had an extremely low chance of making it out of any surgery. The x-rays showed contrast issues of a potential tumor (matching his rapid weight loss the last few weeks), as well as internal bleeding, and his bloodwork was also worrying. I was already well-aware and prepared that he wasn't going to make it out, and my priority was him being at peace.

He hung out on my lap, and crawled into the blanket where he'd sleep beside me in bed. He got to pick how he wanted to be snuggled up in his safe spot. I'd also had fluid pumped into my veins a few hours earlier, so I knew what he'd experience and exactly how to make sure he felt nothing but safe and calm as he drifted off to sleep for the last time in my arms.

Every chapter has to close some day, and my time with Niles was all I could have hoped for. Of all the ways things could have gone, it was ideal. I didn't have to come home to find things had gone horribly while I was away, when we had to take the emergency trip he wasn't at all panicked, and he managed to feel comfortable, safe, and calm in his final moments which is all I ever wanted for my friend of the last 13 years.

It was a rough weekend, and it's weird being without him and being totally alone for the first time essentially ever now, but I don't feel an emptiness at all. I don't have to worry for him now and along with the relief that brings, it just feels like he curled up in my heart and went to sleep so he's always with me.

There's an endless amount more I could ramble on about every little thing and moment we had together, since the little copy cat meant the world and took such good care of me. But more than anything, we always communicated one thing to each other with perfect clarity that was never ONCE in question — love.

And that memory is still as bright & warm as ever.

[ttcblog]

breather*

legit, I don't remember what the last post was about but HEY WE'RE 35 WEEKS PREGNANT AS OF TODAY.

and I woke up with a sense of *impending... something.* not doom, but immense unprepared-ness. it probably doesn't help that our entire home has been, albeit blessed with so much love from our friends and family, filled to the brim with baby stuff on top of all the VERY UNFINISHED home renovation projects that we've decided to start because "we should probably get that done before baby gets here." -- literally we found each other's procrastinating counterparts LOLOL and truly I can only laugh because it's now 9:34PM and I think today has been the MOST TIME I've spent in front of a screen doing SO MUCH FUCKING RESEARCH because there's still so much we need.

100% I need to spend the rest of the weekend cleaning and tidying up the home for my own mental clarity but today was a productive day! The only downside was that I broke my one day "streak" of a perfect day of glucose readings heh. Surprisingly, I kept it together very much so during Thanksgiving. Truly it's just when I have to get my own food. I've also learned that nutrition facts are so extremely estimated, it's annoying.

ANYWAY, today I managed to FINALLY:

choose and purchase a glider

choose & purchase a breast pump (spectra s1) as well as have a lengthy conversation with our cousin regarding using a wearable for when I go back to work and went ahead & took advantage of black friday deals for a willow go

re-measured the walls to decide general orientation and layout of baby's room, including where we're going to put his bed, which dresser we're going to get, which storage system we're going to get, and also listed out a few other things I want to use in his room (i.e. spice racks for his books)

^^ all from ikea -- we're going for a pseudo-montessori, basic-ish set up and doing my best to not over-do it but also try to have the very basic needs.

before I head up and help the husband with building my thing for the bathroom, I'm going to check out a few last minute black friday things before the night is over. I thiiiiiiink, maybe the house of noa panel rug thing. And then I'll be more or less happy with today's progress.

STILL need to figure out the diaper pail/trashcan situation as well before I can feel fully ready, furniture wise, for his room. Also need to purchase A FEW more clothing items for him and I think we'll be okay enough to get us started.

we have some sort of online baby class tomorrow that I signed us up for at 930am, so shouldn't stay up TOO late in order to wake up in time for that.

after the class, I'm going to take some time to do laundry, tidy up as much as possible. and Christmas shopping. also peruse more black friday/cyber weekend deals.

I had quite the mental stress freak out for the first half of the day. It was probably one of the few times, possibly even the first time I truly felt overwhelmed during my pregnancy but I'm glad I had the day off today to figure out some stuff.

he's been moving around quite a bit today and it's been pretty cool being able to feel him so much more lately. I'm really looking forward to when it's time to finally hold him -- but please take all the time you need in there, mama ain't ready for you just yet LOL

[sluttywonwoo]

something more || h.js x reader

Summary: it’s a tale as old as time- your roommate walks in on you masturbating and things escalate from there

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

additional warnings: additional warnings: masturbation, unprotected sex, choking, degradation, lowkey spit play

“Joshua! Come look at this!”

There were a lot of things you liked about your apartment. Cheap rent, nice views, mostly functioning air conditioning… however the gaping hole in your bedroom ceiling was not one of them. It had started out as a small leak a couple of weeks ago, water dripping from some imperceptible hole in the plaster that had slowly turned into a trickle and then a steady stream, until finally the ceiling had collapsed in on itself, unable to hold the weight of all of the water any longer. You had filed a maintenance request when you first noticed the leak, but it had gone ignored. Maybe now, now that your bed was covered in drywall and pipe water, now that you could see into the apartment above yours, your concerns would be important enough to be addressed.

“What is it?” your roommate called back.

You heard him approach and waited for the gasp that would follow. “Y/n…” he hissed, one hand over his mouth, the other gripping your shoulder in shock.

“I know.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

You sighed and took a tentative step forward into your room, wincing when your sock made contact with your damp rug.

“I’ll call maintenance,” Joshua offered and turned on his heel to grab his phone.

“I’ll… try and figure my shit out, I guess.”

His footsteps faded into the background as he retreated into his own room and you looked around your room with a frown, surveying the space for anything salvageable. You were surprised you hadn’t started crying yet. But apparently your brain hadn’t quite caught up with your eyes because all you felt was a numb sort of apathy as you gazed at the mess in front of you.

There was no way you could sleep in your room tonight. Even if you managed to dry everything and clear the debris, there was still a giant fucking hole in the ceiling. The mere thought of trying to fall asleep underneath it made you uneasy. You would have to crash somewhere else.

“They said not to touch anything-” Joshua shouted from the other room. You froze in place, afraid you’d already done something you weren’t supposed to and decided to join him in the kitchen instead.

Your socks left wet footprints against the concrete floor as you padded over to where Joshua was. He shot you a look of sympathy as you peeled them off and tossed them to the side, shifting his attention back to the notepad on the table in front of him to write something the person on the other end of the phone was saying.

The pen hovered above the paper momentarily, and Joshua rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tomorrow? Is that the earliest- yeah that’s fine.”

The little hope you’d had that the issue would be resolved tonight fizzled, and you blew out a breath of frustration. You pulled out your phone and began scrolling through your contacts, mentally making notes of who might let you spend the night at their place.

Joshua thanked whoever he was talking to and hung up, pushing the notebook away from him with a groan.

“They’ll be here tomorrow morning,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “What are you doing?”

“Texting Seungcheol.”

Joshua made a face. “Seung- why?”

“I’m going to ask if I can sleep over.”

“You haven’t talked to him in months,” your roommate protested.

“He’ll say yes to me,” you assured him.

“That’s because he expects you to sleep with him.”

“I know.”

“Y/n! You’re not seriously going to have sex with him in exchange for a place to stay, are you?”

“Well when you put it like that…” you trailed off and sighed. “Whatever, I’m not above it. It’s been a while since I’ve been laid anyway.”

“Seungcheol couldn’t even last thirty seconds-” he paused when you gave him a look, “I know from what you’ve told me. Not because I slept with him.”

“You know saying that makes it sound like that’s exactly why you know.”

“Please, y/n, I have taste,” he said matter-of-factly, easily dodging a swat from you. “You’re not sleeping at Seungcheol’s,” he said as if he’d decided, as if he had final say on the matter.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Joshua?” you demanded. “I can’t sleep in my own room, and you know I can’t sleep on the couch so what do you suggest?”

“Take my room,” he offered simply, shrugging like it should have been obvious.

“What?”

“You can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. You don’t even have to fuck me for it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well what do I have to do for it?”

You could tell Joshua wanted to say ‘nothing’, but knew you wouldn’t accept his offer without feeling like you could give him anything in return so he settled for “fried rice”.

“You want fried rice?”

“I want your fried rice,” he clarified with a grin. “You know it’s my favorite.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Fine. Thank you, Joshua.”

He gave you a knowing smile and nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

-

Joshua kept his room colder than yours. Your wet hair from the shower only made the chill worse, but you didn’t want to mess with the thermostat and throw off how he liked things. You were even hesitant to touch the pillows on his bed. You knew Joshua wouldn’t care, but you still wanted to respect his space.

Joshua was literally the most easygoing person you knew, which offered a nice balance in contrast to your high-strung, perfectionist personality. One time you’d bled on his sheets while you were just hanging out in his room and he was completely unphased. He just threw the bedding in the wash like nothing had happened and mentioned that he’d been needing to wash them anyway while you practically cried in embarrassment.

“It’s okay, y/n. I’ve had girlfriends before.”

“Yeah, but I’m not your girlfriend!”

“We live together, close enough.”

To be fair, you knew that this kind of thing happened all the time, but you were still mortified. You didn’t even pay attention to the rest of the movie you and Joshua had been watching. To this day you didn’t know how the Lego Batman Movie ended.

“You need something to sleep in?” Joshua had asked on your way from the bathroom back to his room, having noted your state of undress.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to make the trips to and from the shower in nothing more than a towel, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to go back into your room tonight, and that most of your clothes were still damp from the ceiling anyway.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

He just nodded from where he was on the couch and gestured past you in the direction of his door. “You know where everything is. Pick out whatever.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You’d chosen an old t-shirt from a gas station souvenir shop, one of many in his collection of road-trip tees and a pair of panties you had managed to snag from your dresser before Joshua had yelled at you to get out of your room earlier.

You hung your towel on a hook attached to the back of his closet door and sprawled out on his bed, pulling the comforter around yourself.

It was late. It had been late for a while, but you and Joshua were night owls. You both kept busy schedules, so at night you liked to take some time for yourselves before bed. Still though, you knew you should sleep. But you couldn’t.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to relax your muscles.

If you were being honest, the idea of getting laid had been exciting and you were a bit disappointed it wasn’t going to happen for you tonight. It had been a while since you’d been with anyone, and you were craving the intimacy, even if it was coming from someone like Dylan.

Your skin was beginning to feel hot and sticky, and you pushed the covers off of you in your frustration. You had just been cold a few moments ago, and all it had taken to make you sweat was the mere thought of sex. It was pathetic, you were pathetic, and you knew it.

Your fingers inched toward the waistband of your panties almost unconsciously before you stopped yourself. You were in Joshua’s bed. You shouldn’t be getting yourself off in his bed. That was wrong. It wasn’t your room, there must be some sort of boundary for this sort of thing. Roommate code. What if Joshua walked in on you- no. You clenched your fists by your sides and sighed. The idea of your roommate walking in on you with your hand down your pants should not be turning you on. It should be having the opposite effect. But you couldn’t help it.

You had managed to suppress your attraction to him for this long, being in his bed shouldn’t be the breaking point. Maybe it was because his sheets smelled like him, or maybe it was because you were wearing his shirt…fuck, you wished you had your vibrator. The little pink toy was sitting in the drawer of your bedside table, likely water damaged beyond repair. God, hadn’t you lost enough?

“Forgive me, Shua,” you whispered hoarsely into the empty room as you resigned yourself to your pleasure.

Your pussy had won over your head and you’d given into your desire. Familiar sparks of arousal flickered faintly in your stomach when you brushed the tips of your fingers over your panties. You weren’t shocked to discover that the material was already damp from where your wetness had seeped through.

You tried to think about Seungcheol, about your celebrity crushes, about anyone other than the person behind the other side of the door, but your mind kept drifting back to your roommate. You thought about what Joshua’s fingers would feel like instead of your own. They were so much longer than yours… you stifled a moan as you curled a finger into yourself and let your thumb begin to circle your clit, imagining Joshua’s head was buried in between your thighs instead.

Getting yourself to the edge was usually difficult for you without the help of toys or a third party, but you surprised yourself when your thighs began to tense in anticipation as you worked your fingers over your g-spot repeatedly, orgasm just out of reach. You were trying to be as quiet as possible, but you kept letting quiet sighs and curses slip from between your lips as your focus began to blur.

You pictured Joshua pushing himself into you, pictured how his face would scrunch up in pleasure as he felt you clench around his cock for the first time, how he’d kiss your neck and praise you for taking him so well- you bit down on your knuckles to stop yourself from screaming.

The invisible string inside of you snapped right as the door to Joshua’s room swung open and you were forced to rip your hand away from yourself as you came and your pussy clenched around nothing.

The light overhead flicked on and you squinted, groaning at the sudden blinding intrusion.

“Sorry,” Joshua apologized sheepishly. “I just forgot a pillow.”

You used your dry hand, the knuckle-bitten one, to throw him one of the pillows from behind you. He caught it with ease and you thought that would be it, but he zeroed in on your hand, narrowing his eyes at it with a confused expression on his face.

You hoped he couldn’t tell that you were still trembling from the aftershocks of your ruined orgasm, hoped he didn’t question why you were so flushed and breathless.

“What happened to your hand?” he asked, tossing the pillow aside and taking your hand into his own to observe. “You’re bleeding.”

Damn, you hadn’t meant to bite your hand that hard.

“It’s nothing,” you said and tried to yank your hand out of his grasp, but he was holding onto you too tightly.

“I have some Band-Aids in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Shua you don’t have to-”

He was gone before you could finish your sentence, and back before you could protest any further. While he was in the bathroom you hurriedly wiped your other hand on your- his- shirt in an attempt to erase any evidence of what you had been doing just moments before he had interrupted.

“Give me your hand,” Joshua instructed, taking a seat on the bed so that he was facing you.

You outstretched your arm so that he could see the damage and watched as he dabbed a tissue at the specks of blood on your skin, applying pressure to stop the flow.

“It’s just a little scrape,” you insisted.

“Still, we don’t want it to get infected.”

“I guess,” you mumbled.

Once he was sure that you had stopped bleeding he dabbed a tiny bit of Neosporin onto your knuckle and wrapped a Spider-Man Band-Aid around your finger.

“Thank you.”

“Wait, I’m not done!”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to kiss it better.”

You rolled your eyes but gave in, lifting your hand to his face princess style. He pressed a gentle kiss to the Spider-Man Band-Aid and took a moment to admire his work. It was only when he was holding your hand closer that he noticed the indents in all of your other knuckles.

“Why were you biting your hand?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

There was no use in lying about it, the marks on your hand were clearly teeth marks. He would know you were bullshitting if you tried to play it off.

“I wasn’t.”

So much for that.

Joshua blinked. “Show me your other hand.”

“What? No.”

“Show me.”

“No!”

You grabbed the comforter and pulled it tighter to you while Joshua tried to wrestle it from your grasp.

“I swear to God, y/n,” he muttered under his breath.

You put up a good fight, but he was stronger than you and tugged it off of you within seconds of struggling. He pushed you back onto the bed and used his body to pin you to the mattress so that you couldn’t wriggle away. Now that you were stuck underneath him he was able to assess the hand that you had been trying to hide. You whimpered in embarrassment and watched in horror as he brought the hand… brought the hand to his…

“Joshua, what are you doing?” you breathed out.

He looked at you brazenly and then put two of your fingers in his mouth. You shivered as he sucked the arousal, the evidence, from your fingers to confirm his suspicion.

“You’re a liar,” he said finally.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered.

Joshua chuckled to himself and let your hand fall back to your side. “And a brat too.” You scoffed in offense but Joshua just leaned down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “I already knew that, though.”

“Excuse you, but I am fucking delightful!” you argued.

“I never said you weren’t!”

“You just called me a brat!”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

“I hate you.”

“So you… don’t want me to… give you a hand there?” he asked.

You paused. Was he really offering to-

“We’re friends, Joshua. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to.”

You could feel your heart beating in your throat and in your pussy. Joshua was your best friend and your roommate… but was there something more? Right now you wanted him more than you had ever wanted anyone. This couldn’t end well.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

Joshua was back on top of you as soon as the words left your mouth, pressing his lips to yours while one of his hands tangled itself in your hair. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned softly into his mouth. You found yourself wishing the moment could last forever, but you quickly changed your mind when you felt Joshua pressing his thigh up in between your legs. Lazily making out was nothing compared to what he was doing now. He brought a hand to your hip and urged you to move. He guided you until you were rocking back and forth on his thigh at a steady pace.

“Feel good?” he asked.

You could only nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Your panties were the only layer between your pussy and Joshua’s leg, and although they were certainly ruined by now they still provided the means to create friction that went straight to your clit.

Joshua’s hands fiddled with the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing and he tugged at the bottom of it, motioning for it to come off.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Another nod from you and he was whisking the shirt off over your head without a second’s hesitation. He was pulling his own shirt off next, tossing it into a pile on the floor with yours. His fingers found the waistband of your panties soon after, and he played with the elastic impatiently, eager eyes searching yours for approval. You lifted your hips off of the bed so that he could take them off, leaving you completely naked before him.

Joshua let his gaze travel down your body, shamelessly admiring every dimple, curve, and freckle that was now exposed to him. You shifted under him self-consciously, silently wishing you had shaved. If you had known you’d be fucking your best friend, you would have, but it was too late now and you could only hope he wasn’t bothered by a little hair.

“How are you real,” he murmured to himself, earning an eye roll from you. Joshua reached out and dragged a finger through your folds, smiling when you flinched. “So sensitive…” he noted. “Did you cum already?”

“Yes, but it was ruined,” you admitted.

“Poor thing,” he tsked in fake sympathy, bringing his hand back up to his mouth. “Just wanna nother taste. You’re too sweet to resist.”

“Shua,” you whined.

“What is it, baby?”

“I need you.”

He smiled down at you and took you by the chin, tilting your face up towards him. “You already have me.”

“You know what I mean!”

“But I want to hear you say it.”

You groaned stubbornly and twisted your head out of his grip, only to let out a yelp when he closed a hand around your throat.

“Stop being a brat,” Joshua spat as he forced you to look at him again. “I’ll give you one more chance to be a good girl, got it? Good girls use their words to tell me what they want. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you choked out desperately.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

“I’ll be a good girl.”

“So what is it that you need, love?”

You swallowed your pride and opened your mouth to respond. “Your cock, please.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Joshua asked, cupping a hand around his ear as if he couldn’t hear you.

“I want- I need your cock, please.”

“Atta girl,” he praised and eased the grip around your neck. “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head weakly and watched as Joshua pushed his boxers down to his thighs, then onto the floor, letting his cock bounce up against his stomach. He was fully hard already and you wondered how long he’d been like that, wondered how he had so much self-control when you barely had any.

“We can stop whenever you want, okay?” Joshua said, face softening and hand gently cupping your cheek. “Let me know if it’s too much. Just tell me what you need, baby.” You nodded obediently and met him halfway as he leaned down to kiss you. He broke away from the kiss suddenly and held a hand underneath your mouth. “Spit,” he ordered.

You complied and sat up a little to spit into his hand. He worked that same hand over his cock a few times, using your spit to lubricate it before positioning himself over you.

“Is this a good idea?” you blurted right as Joshua was about to push himself into you, suddenly aware that you wouldn’t be able to go back from this as soon as he did.

You had shoved any feelings you’d had for Joshua down for so long and it would be impossible to keep doing after sleeping with him. But you had already come this far.

“Probably not,” Joshua answered with a shrug. “Do you want to stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Great.”

A brief moment of silence lapsed while you both stared into each others’ eyes, not quite sure where to go from there.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Joshua said casually after thirty more seconds of silence.

“Yes, please do.”

You braced yourself for the stretch as Joshua pushed into you at an agonizing pace and sank your teeth into his shoulder to relieve some of the pressure. Joshua groaned at the feeling of you pulsing around his cock, a feeling which was only heightened by you nipping at his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“You’re… so big,” you echoed back.

He allowed you a few moments to adjust before he moved. You were already so worked up that he slid in and out of you easily and it wasn’t long before he was pounding into you at a fast tempo. He pressed hurried kisses to your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of hickies to remember him by.

You cried out each time his cock hit your g-spot, overwhelmed and still sensitive. Joshua kissed you to drown out your moans, clamping a hand over your mouth in his stead whenever he came up for air. His other hand was up against the wall for stability, though it wasn’t helping much.

“Joshua,” you gasped.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you choke me again, please?” you all but begged.

Joshua smirked. “Of course.”

He did as you asked and cursed when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in closer.

“See what happens when you’re a good girl and ask nicely?” he teased, cocking his jaw arrogantly. “You get rewarded.”

You could feel your orgasm building in your abdomen as Joshua continued to thrust into you and wondered if he was close too. You guessed that he was from the way his hips had began to falter.

“Up,” Joshua commanded suddenly.

He slipped out of you and grabbed you by the shoulders, hauling you into a sitting position.

“On your hands and knees,”

“And if I don’t?” you challenged.

“You don’t want to find out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Should I finish myself off, then?” he asked, pumping his cock lazily as if he expected you to call his bluff. “Leave you here needy, not let you cum?”

“No, please!”

You quickly got into position on all fours with your back to Joshua praying that he wouldn’t make good on his threat.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice.

You fell forward on your face when he shoved his cock back into you only for him to tug you upright by your hair. He fucked you like that in doggy for a minute or so before he snaked an arm around your upper body and pulled you flush against his chest. Being seated on his lap allowed Joshua the ability to touch practically anywhere on your body. He took advantage of the new position by grabbing your tits.

He was so fucking deep in you like this you couldn’t stand it. Every tiny movement brought you closer to the edge and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last.

“Shua, I’m close,” you warned through broken gasps.

“Don’t cum yet.”

“Why not,” you whined.

“You’re not allowed to cum until you answer this question for me,” he said breathlessly.

“What is it?”

“When you were touching yourself earlier, who were you thinking about?”

“I-”

“Was it Seungcheol?”

“No.”

Joshua’s fingers found your clit and began rubbing circles around it, making it that much harder not to disobey him.

“Fuck, Joshua…”

“Who was it?”

“It was you! I was thinking about you!”

“Do you always think about me?” he pressed.

“You only said one question,” you accused defensively.

Interrogating you while he had you on the brink of orgasm was not fair.

“Fine, cum.”

You cried his name as you finally came. He held you through it, your orgasm triggering his own as you clenched around him repeatedly. Your name tumbled from his lips too, while he lost himself in the midst of pleasure. You couldn’t see his face as he came, but you could imagine it, like you had hundreds of times before. The way his hair would stick to his forehead, the way he’d bite down on his lip and squeeze his eyes shut as he let go of control…

You couldn’t see him as he came, but you could feel him. You felt his entire body tense behind you, felt the warm spurts of cum fill you up, felt the way he instinctively grabbed at your throat to anchor himself.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity as you both caught your breath. Joshua collapsed on the bed with you in his arms, cock still buried inside of you. He brushed your hair out of your face and turned your head so that he could look into your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded sleepily and gave him a weak smile. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I wasn’t too rough?”

“No, you were perfect.”

He kissed you again without a second thought and you kissed him back. It felt familiar and warm, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Here let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pulling out of you.

You winced at the empty feeling, but laid in bed motionlessly and let Joshua dote on you. He used a warm washcloth in between your thighs and wrapped a new Spider-Man Band-Aid around your hurt finger. He slipped back into his boxers and tossed you another pair of his to wear before fetching you a glass of water from the kitchen and making you drink it all.

Joshua returned to bed finally and snuggled up to you instantly. You nestled yourself into the crook of his arm and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I thought I didn’t have to fuck you to sleep in your bed,” you said quietly once he had gotten comfortable.

“Shut up.” There was still a lot to discuss between the two of you, but nothing that couldn’t wait until morning. For now you were content to fall asleep in his arms and ignore all of the unanswered questions bouncing around in your mind. “For the record, I still expect my fried rice.”

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[angryschnauzer]

Stuck

Summary: You are August Walkers maid, and when you are changing the sheets on his massive bed your hand gets stuck between the mattress and headboard. Upon finding you in that predicament August takes control of the situation, however it doesn’t mean you get unstuck any time soon. (Based on a pornhub video i saw at 2am a few nights ago)

Pairing: August Walker x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Mission Impossible: Fallout.

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Dub-con, Fingering, groping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, boob play, anal fingering, double penetration, spanking, spying/stalker behaviour, surveilence, voyerism, unauthorized recording of a sex act, not-great aftercare (he tries), slight dom/sub, the start of a ‘sugar daddy’ arrangement, however no reference to Daddy kink. 

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE

Read the Steve Rogers version of this story HERE

Stuck

 Ringing the doorbell, you stood anxiously on the doormat outside the expensive apartment, listening for approaching steps but hearing none. So when the door suddenly opened you let out a tiny yelp of surprise, before taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart;

 “Good afternoon Mr Walker”

 The giant of a man stood in front of you, recognition quickly passing over his face when he saw your uniform of black dress and simple black ballet flats;

 “Oh yes, the maid. C’mon in”

 You worked for a high security housekeeping company, strict controls and stringent background checks as you were contracted to the pentagon and the agents and staff that worked there. You always worked on an ad-hoc basis, only visiting homes when clients or agents requested it. This was however the fourth time cleaning Mr Walker’s apartment, always having to work around suitcases littering the halls and various weapons being cleaned and serviced on the kitchen table. 

 Holding your pail of cleaning supplies you waited as he shut the door, talking at you rather than to you;

 “Okay so here’s what you need to do today; clean the bathroom and kitchen, vacuum the rugs throughout, change the bedding and leave in the laundry hamper”

 You nodded;

 “Sweeping throughout too sir?”

 “No need, the Roomba does the smooth floors, it just can’t get onto the deep pile rugs” he hooked an earbud into one ear; “I’m going out for a run, I’ll be two hours”

 Swallowing nervously you nodded, watching as he hooked the other earbud in and left without another word, leaving you staring at the white wood of the door after he’d closed it. 

 Mr Walker both scared and excited you. A beast of a man, he was all muscle, and each time you had visited he had excused himself so not to be there whilst you were. The fact that he was always in a tank top and running shorts that did nothing to hide any part of him had you stretching your concentration to its limits in order to get your job done and not drift off into a fantasy land that you saved for when you were curled up in your own bed.

 Getting to work you started on the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher with the various dirty crockery that littered the room, cleaning the surfaces, sink, stove. Next up you hit the rugs, working quickly as you vacuumed, before heading to the bathroom. 

 Taking a deep breath you opened the door and relaxed. Cleaning bathrooms for single men were what you always dreaded, but at least as you started to cleanse every surface including the toilet, you realised that Mr Walker thankfully had good aim. Finally it was time for the shower, and as you pulled open the glass door and looked down you let out a shriek; the largest spider you’d ever seen sat in the corner. Grabbing the handled loofah you crept a little closer, letting out a laugh when you saw it wasn’t in fact an arachnid; instead it was a clump of dark hair;

 “Well, the man does have a lot of hair” you muttered to no-one but yourself, thinking about how his chest was covered in a mat of soft hair, exposed in the low neck of his running tank. 

 Half an hour later you wiped your brow on the back of your arm. Mr Walkers bathroom had in fact been a nightmare, the man shed more hair than a fucking German Shepherd. Washing your hands and glancing at your watch, you saw that you had fifteen minutes left of the two hours, taking a deep breath before grabbing the clean linens from the closet.

 Mr Walkers bedroom was white. There was no personalisation, no trinkets. Slipping your ballet flats off you climbed onto the bed, mentally taking in the sheer size of it; it must be a super king if not larger. Your mind immediately went south, imagining Mr Walker fucking on the bed, sprawled out as you straddle his face - you had always wondered what that moustache felt like against your skin - and you ride his tongue, or him pile driving you into the mattress, his hard body pressing against every inch of you as he fills you.

 Moving up the bed you tugged on the sheet, cursing as it wouldn’t pull out from between the mattress and headboard. With a huff you shuffled forward, pushing your hands down between them, tugging on the expensive white cotton. Pushing your arm down a little further you could just about feel that it was caught on something, moving to pull back and then it happened… you were stuck.

 “What the...?” you muttered, realisation hitting you that your watch had slipped into the gap and was now preventing you from pulling your arm out. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you struggled to set yourself free, pulling against the strain but it did little to help.  You pushed and pulled and grunted, hiking your dress up so you could widen your stance on the bed, but nothing worked. You frantically looked around to see the time, yet there wasn’t a clock or display in sight, and you could hardly look at your watch. If you didn’t get out of there soon Mr Walker…

 “Well isn’t this a pretty sight…”

 No. Please no. Oh god no. You screwed your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment rising to your skin;

 “I’m stuck” you whispered, letting out a yelp when you felt the bed dip behind you, feeling his hands gently resting on your hips;

 “Unfortunate for you, maybe not so for me...”

 -

 Five minutes ago.

 August sat in the small room, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. As ideas went, this was both his best and worst idea yet. Installing hidden security cameras in his apartment had been at first simply for security whilst he was away on missions, but he’d found a secondary use for it once the agency had recommended your employers as a maid service. He hadn’t been expecting someone as pretty as you, you had this look of innocence about you that made him just want to corrupt you and ruin you. He may be a bastard but he wasn’t a heathen, so instead of just turning on the charm offensive he had found an abandoned room in his apartment building and set up a small surveillance center. One with a chair, a laptop, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues. 

 August Walker had just spent the last two hours edging himself as he watched you bend over in that knee length dress, adjusting camera angles to see up your skirt as you bent over. August Walker was one step away from full on pervert. And he had no regrets at all.

 That was until he saw you on his bed, and realised you were trapped. Temptation got the better of him, so stuffing his hard dick back into his running shorts, he quickly left the room and silently made his way back to his apartment. 

 He entered and could smell the pleasant scent of the cleaning fluids you’d used, the quiet grunts as you tried to free yourself from your predicament. Toeing off his sneakers he silently made his way through the hallways, suppressing a groan as he saw you on his bed; ass up face down, the fabric of your dress stretched over the tops of your thighs, the fabric moving as you moved to expose glimpses of your buttocks. He pressed a hand over the obscene bulge in his shorts before moving to the bed.

 -

 “Mr Walker!” you squeaked out in surprise; “You’re back… umm I’m stuck, my watch… I can’t get my wrist back through the gap between the headboard and the mattress”

 “Oh… what a shame. Let me help…”

 You were expecting him to move around you, but instead he covered your body with his own and grasped your arms. Your mind was lost as you took in how his massive hands could completely circle your wrists, the weight of him above you almost suffocating, and when he started to tug you knew you were done for. 

 The gentle rocking of your bodies, rubbing against one another was all it took for a moan to leave your mouth involuntarily, the feeling of his hard dick rutting against the crease of your ass making you embarrassingly wet almost instantly. He grunted above you;

 “Huh, well that didn’t work…”

 Pushing himself up he knelt behind you, still pressing his hard-on against your ass as his hands gripped your hips and he tugged gently, however all he did was pull you back against his crotch;

 “This fabric is slippery, hang on a second…”

 Pressing your head to the bed you felt him flip your skirt up, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind you as he took in the bright red thong you were wearing beneath your dress. His warm hands smoothed over your buttocks before gripping onto your hips and half-heartedly tugging again. 

 It was no good, you were too turned on to even object. You’d lusted after your client for weeks, and now you found yourself in this predicament which it was obvious he had no intention of helping you with, but instead had other ideas that you had no desire to object to. You were rocking back against his dick, the quiet moans escaping your throat telling him you were more than into it, so when you felt his fingers curl around the elastic of your underwear and tug them down to your mid-thigh, all you could do was arch your back and present your pussy for his inspection. 

 Thick fingers parted your folds, teasing your nectar to your aching clit where a thumb rubbed hard circles against the sensitive bud. His other hand was lost from you for a moment and you could feel him moving, before you felt the thwack of his heavy dick against your ass. 

 With your hand trapped and your body stretched out you could barely look over your shoulder, but when you did you could see the impressive bulk of your clients body towering over you, the sight making your cunt clench with anticipation.

 “Excited, are we?”

 “Please Mr Walker…”

 “Please what?” You moaned and his quiet chuckle filled the room; “You gotta say it”

 “Please fuck me”

 “Eager little thing, aren’t we?”

 “Please…”

 “Well, as you asked so nicely…”

 He took hold of his dick and dragged the bulbous tip through your folds, dousing himself with your juices before lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt him push just the tip inside you it felt like you were being split open, he must be as thick as your wrist, and as he continued to force his way into your body it felt like he was the length of your forearm.

 “Such a good little slut, taking my dick…” his voice filled your senses as your body fought to relax and allow him deeper, your juices running down your legs where he would rock back and forth to lubricate his girth before pushing another punishing inch in to you. 

 Your velvet walls parted yet gripped him tight, and you could feel every ridge, bump and vein as he started to fuck your tight pussy. With every pull and push your head swam, your body moving back to meet his thrusts as his massive hands gripped onto your hips and he started to slam into you harder and harder. When his hand came down onto your ass the loud smack surprised you just as much as the pain, but you arched your back even more like a bitch in heat. 

 He reached beneath you, tugging at the neckline of your dress with both hands, before the seam of the collar broke and the soft jersey stretched enough for him to tug the fabric down. His fingers caught in the lace cups of your bra, and whilst still plunging deep into you from behind, he was able to let your titties swing free and he grabbed a handful;

 “Such pretty tits. Next time you clean I want you in just your underwear so I can watch them swing. Might get you scrubbing the floors so I can see you bent over and ready for me”

 You shuddered at his words, he already paid a premium for your services, and the electronic tip that he’d sent through had been more than generous, the last visit alone you had been surprised by the triple figures, but more than grateful that you were able to pay the bills.

 His hands had found their way back to your ass, smoothing over the soft skin as he continued to fuck you, the wide ridge that ran along the underside of his length rubbing so beautifully against your g-spot, you were sure you were going to cum soon. 

 He pulled your cheeks apart and you felt him spit on your asshole, the warm liquid pooling for a moment before his thumb started to rub insistently over the brown rose. Burying your head in the soft sheets you allowed your body to relax as he breached your back door with his thumb, the wide digit stretching you as he pushed in as far as he could;

 “This ass is incredible. I can’t wait to fuck it”

 You let out a tiny yelp at the idea of trying to fit his massive cock in your ass;

 “Mr Walker!”

 “Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you’re stretched out first. Might want to add a plug to the uniform list for next time, make sure you’re ready lubed and stretched for me. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, this time I’m just going to cum deep in this sweet pussy of yours. Are you on birth control? Are you ripe?”

 You hadn’t even considered birth control. Your insurance had stopped covering you a couple of years back, so when you had gone on the occasional date that had ended up between the sheets, you’d simply resorted to condoms;

 “No… no…”

 “Oh yes. I’m going to cum deep inside you, let my seed rest within your womb. God, I’d love to see your belly round with my child, I bet your tits would be even more impressive. Hmmn yes, that’s fucking perfect…”

 You hadn’t thought it possible, but all that he said was turning you on even more, and it wasn’t just you that liked the idea, you could feel him swell within you, his girth growing thicker as his arousal grew. The added stretch was driving you closer and closer to your own orgasm, the dual stimulations of your pussy and ass both being filled had you trembling with need.

 “Are you going to cum for me?” his voice was hoarse and dry, an edge of desperation to it too; “I’m close, gonna shoot my load in you soon. You’d better cum before I do ‘cos once I’m done I’m pulling out and will leave you dripping with my seed and on edge…”

 The threat of being left on the precipice was enough to push your body over the edge, cumming hard as your body held him so tight he thought he wouldn’t be able to pull out. The vice like grip had him throwing his head back as your body milked him, his own orgasm ripping through his body that he came with a roar and a string of expletives. 

 -

 August wasn’t sure if he had ever cum that hard before, but the way your body gripped him so tight he was in no doubt that your pussy was the best he’d ever had - and he’d had a lot - and he knew without a doubt that he was not going to let anyone else ever come near it again.

 As he slowed his thrusts and let you work through the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, he mentally checked off all the things he’d been checking up on; from the details of your financials, your family and education, your social media. He had seen all of them. He had your phone tapped and knew that he was going to be installing spy cameras in your apartment… that was until you agreed to be his. 

 Looking down at your ass he pulled his thumb out of your now loosened asshole, making sure to catch the way it winked as he recorded on his phone, having pulled that out of his pocket soon after he’d started and had recorded himself defiling your body. Giving your ass a smack he relished how the camera picked up the jiggle as the force rippled through you, before grasping a large handful of ass as he pulled out and watched his cum pool at your entrance, before pushing it back in with two thick fingers. Tugging your underwear up your legs from where they had settled around your knees, he made sure the flimsy red mesh covered your hole, quickly getting soaked with his seed as he pushed the fabric against the mess to fully coat it. 

 Finally he shut his phone off and reached towards the headboard, giving it a tug and feeling it lift, watching as you silently pulled your hand free before collapsing on the bed. He carefully unbuckled your wristwatch before rubbing at the sore skin, easing away the chafed skin. He set your hand down carefully and quickly left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water and holding it to your lips as he helped you sit up. 

 Setting the empty glass on the side, he rubbed your back before attempting to fix your torn collar, finally giving up. He swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the mascara tear stains;

 “Next week you’ll need to be in your underwear and heels. Make sure the plug is well lubricated. I’ll have everything delivered to your address”

 You went to object, to question how he would even know, but then realised… CIA… of course he knew. You pushed yourself to the edge of the bed, finding your shoes and slipping your feet in, standing on wobbly legs as he spoke again.

 “Do as I ask and I’ll let you stay the night so I can fuck your other two holes as well”

 Turning you nodded;

 “Yes Mr Walker”

 “Oh, you can call me Sir now” he turned to leave the room before waving his finger at the pile of fresh linen still folded at the end of the bed; “Remember to finish up before you leave”

 He left the room without another word. You went to object, but just as you did you felt the phone in your pocket vibrate. Quickly checking it your eyebrows practically shot off the top of your head, seeing the tip transfer come through for $2000. Biting your lip, your thumb hovered over the accept/decline buttons, the moral dilemma tearing your mind in two.

 -

 In the hallway August watched his phone. He could see that you’d received the notification of the tip. When he saw your action on the app he smiled and slid the phone back into his pocket, already planning your next visit.

Part 2 >>>

[writersrealmbts]

Diamond Tears and Little Wings: Part 7/Final

Description: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 03/04/2021

Tags: bts x reader, ot7

Fluff: 4,296 words

A/N: Woohoo! We finished the series!

They had almost completely redecorated the apartment, making it ultra-fairy friendly. It was like a paradise and you loved them even more for it.

Your dollhouse was perfect, and had more spots for you to hide in because you did need privacy (the bathroom was also completely closed in this one, thank goodness). It had it’s own power source and running water, and magic plumbing because they got it from fairy craftsmen. The stove worked, the fridge worked, and the bed was soft and plump.

They had more plush rugs around the house just in case you crashed (it happened), and way more house plants. Even a sauna-like terrarium for winter days.

Your room was decorated with new pictures, posters, and paintings.

And they’d rearranged their rooms, too. Jimin’s and Hoseok’s beds arranged to be more easily pushed together at a moment’s notice—something they were doing before even unpacking.

Yoongi brought in blankets and pillows as you tried to figure out what they were doing.

Jungkook and Taehyung brought in the TV and dvd player, and Seokjin brought in the table for it to rest on.

Then they all disappeared, Hoseok patting you on the head as he passed.

You looked around, frowning as you tried to figure out when they had agreed on a movie night, especially since you’d been with them the whole time….

Taehyung came back first, cleaned up and picking you up. Carrying you up the side of the bed and then setting you down as far as he could reach, but without reaching the crack. He was humming happily as he climbed onto the bed beside you, and wrapped you in his arms, making sure both of you were propped up for watching whatever movie it was that they had chosen. You hoped it wasn’t anything too intricate, after flying through timezones and since you were still adjusting.

Taehyung was running his fingers through your hair, playing with it. “It was really bad that first month,” He whispered.

You studied his face, seeing the invisible scars in the look in his eyes and the way they stared at nothing.

“The first day we were a mess, and just sort of…numb. But that night…Hobi-hyung was so angry and he picked a fight with Jin-hyung. I think Jin-hyung only went along with the fight because he didn’t want Hobi-hyungie doing it to us. I’ve never seen either of them like that. And then Namjoonie-hyung got involved, but he was also arguing instead of trying to settle it. Yoongi-hyung grabbed Jimin and Jungkook and dragged them out, but I wouldn’t let him pull me away. I was too worried about them.”

You hugged him tighter, still fixated on his micro-expressions.

“You know how Jin-hyung is, he’ll fight but then he’ll be the first to apologize…even if he doesn’t really understand why there was a fight in the first place. I mean, we all knew that it was because we lost you, but also…Hobi just…he wasn’t making any sense. He was angry, so angry. He ended up hitting Jin-hyung.”

You felt your eyes widen.

Tae finally looked at you, nodding slightly at your expression and then looking away at nothing again. “It got so quiet. Hobi-hyung had hit him in the face and Jin-hyung was on the floor. We all just stood there for…minutes. Jin-hyung didn’t try to get up, just holding his face where he had been hit, laying on the ground…” Tae shuddered. “Yoongi hyung was the first to move, going over and standing between Hobi and Jin. He didn’t say anything, just glared at Hoseok-hyung. Wouldn’t let him or Namjoon get close when they both started panicking and trying to see if Jin-hyung was okay. I went to him, and he finally got up. He pulled me to the fridge to grab an ice pack, then back to his room and we just…sat together. Listening to all of the crying in the house. I got angry at Hobi-hyung for hitting him, but Jin-hyung just shrugged. Said that Hobi didn’t mean it. That it was just because…because you were gone and none of us knew how to handle it.”

“I take it they made up,” You whispered.

He nodded. “Hoseokie-hyung hasn’t fully forgiven himself. He started going to his therapist regularly after talking with Jin-hyung that night. And we had our group discussion…but it was strange. Jin-hyung said he’d rather we blamed him than ourselves, because he could handle our wrath against him…but he couldn’t handle us hurting ourselves with that guilt. Yoongi hyung was so angry at that…told Jin to blame him if that’s what Jin wanted the rest of us to do. But Jin-hyung was so calm. All he said was that he didn’t blame himself, or any of our members.”

“Who did he blame?”

“I don’t know. He never would say, and we never could figure out who he was acting more coldly toward.”

You frowned slightly. “Maybe because it was someone he already acted coldly toward?”

“Maybe, but I still don’t know who that would be.”

You nodded slowly, a few ideas popping into your own head, but figuring it was better not to voice them. “What else happened?”

“Jiminie ran away,” Taehyung said, still sounding horrified from the event. Didn’t go home or anything. It’s dangerous for us, you know? And he’d been handling it so poorly that we panicked. We told the fans that he had gotten a cold and that the medicine made him hallucinate and he’d run away and they helped us find him. They were really nice about it too, they didn’t approach him or anything, even blocked a sassaeng fan. Jimin did end up sick, so it wasn’t a lie after that. Jimin wasn’t allowed to be alone after that. Namjoon stepped down from being the leader for a week—which was how long it took the rest of us to make him realize that none of us were equipped for that position. Jungkook got caught getting another tattoo and he pretty much was completely withdrawn. We were a mess.”

“No kidding,” You murmured. “And you?”

He chewed his lip. “I don’t know. I just felt so…helpless. But I guess I was the only one that Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung could keep a firm hold on. If I wasn���t with one, I was with the other. Even at night. Sometimes I spent the night with Jimin, if Jin-hyung was with one of the others while Yoongi-hyung was in the studio. Hobi hyung would sometimes let me cling to him at work if they weren’t around. I don’t know. It was all like a bad dream and if I could only grab hold of everyone the bad stuff would go away, but only a few people were letting my hold onto them.”

“My poor boys,” You whispered, grouping them together because you knew he didn’t want you saying poor him. “So hurt, so sad.”

“You were in the worst situation, though,” He whispered. “He hit you, y/n.”

You shrugged a little. “Only in the last two weeks.”

He grumbled unintelligibly, then seemed to remember something else. “Oh. Jungkookie also hit Jin-hyung. We didn’t hear about it until after, because we came home to find both of them holding ice-packs to injuries and Jungkook crying.”

You pushed yourself up to look at him in disbelief. “So…Jin hit him back?”

“Oh, they fought. Not for very long, but apparently they fought.”

You shook your head a bit. “Any other physical altercations?”

“Yoongi wrestling Jimin, but no one got hurt. I think Yoongi and Jin got into a couple fights behind closed doors.” Taehyung shivered and snuggled down into bed more. “It was a bad time.”

“No kidding,” You muttered, getting up and ignoring his whining. “I think I should talk to all of you in private. Between you and Jimin I’m very concerned and I just…I think I need to hear what happened from each of you.”

Taehyung bit his lip, but he nodded.

You ventured out, looking for who you could corner first.

Instead you were cornered by Jungkook.

You easily let him pick you up and carry you into his room, giggling softly at his jokes as he carried you in to keep him company while he finished getting ready for the night.

But you were pretty sure he knew why you were there.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” He said quietly. “Me hitting hyung. I was angry about something stupid and hyung was just trying to be there for me and we both misinterpreted what was happening and I hit him…and then…I was already so angry and it felt good to hit something and before I knew it I was swinging at him again. Then he was hitting back, but never trying to beat me, just trying to get me to snap out of it. I did, and he held onto me, and he went with me to the therapist the next day. It’s the only time it ever happened. We worked on redirecting my anger when it came up. I wasn’t nearly as bad as Jimin or Hobi-hyung. And Yoongi-hyung laid into me for fighting with Jinnie-hyung, but he backed off when Hyung talked to him. I think…even though Hobi-hyung and Jiminie-hyung reacted the worst…I think Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung had it the worst. They tried so hard to hold us all together. I’ve never seen Yoongi-hyung so actively desperate to bring us together as he was in those first few weeks. And…I don’t know. It definitely made me feel ashamed.”

You nodded slowly. “Anything else happen?”

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Jungkookie, I’m just trying to get a sense of what you all went through,” You told him softly.

He took a deep breath. “Namjoon-hyung. He spent too long in the studio and had to go to the hospital to get an I.V. because he was so dehydrated. And I think you already guessed that Jimin-hyung went off of food. We pretty much force-fed him meals, usually protein shakes were the most we could get him to consume willingly. He was just so…out of his mind with grief. He’d spent the first few nights you were gone researching what happened when a fairy was taken from the most loving home they had been in—not that he told us he did that until a couple months later when he was finally not acting crazy.”

You nodded again. “But you all took care of him. That’s the most important thing. You all took care of him.”

Jungkook’s eyes went to the sheet on his bed. “I should have helped more.”

“It’s over. You all made it. Maybe a little worse for wear, but you’re all alive and relatively healthy. That’s the most important.” You leaned in and kissed his nose because it was an adorable nose. And sure, maybe you wanted to be little and escape all of this sadness but you also figured there was plenty of time to be little in your future.

After you had finished talking with the boys.

Hoseok was the next you managed to corner, in Tae’s room since he was grabbing the boy’s pillow, and it must have been clear from your expression or the way you closed the door that you wanted to talk to him about something important because he definitely blanched and looked for a way to escape.

“Hobi,” You murmured pitifully, pouting. “Don’t tell me you’re already sick of me.”

He froze. “No, never, don’t even joke about that.”

“Then sit with me a moment?” You asked as softly as you could, talking as though to an animal that looked spooked, trying to calm him down back into your trust.

He was hesitant, maybe a little stiff, but he sat down on the end of the bed with you.

You took one of his hands in yours, just sort of feeling them. “I just wanted to find out, from you, what happened while I was gone. I’ve talked with some of the others…but I wanted to hear your story.”

He took a deep breath, his hand closing around one of yours and giving it a soft squeeze. “It was so quiet after you were gone, and I don’t think any of us knew what to do or say. Then Yoongi insisted on us being allowed to go home. Even after we got home…the silence was just unbearable and you…what was left of your presence was everywhere and I couldn’t stand that you weren’t there. I couldn’t believe they actually took you away from us. I wanted to cry but I just got angry. I got so angry. Because you were ours, a part of us, and you would forget us, but we would always, always remember. They were the ones who made us get you in the first place and then, after us being on board since the moment we met you, they made us let you go.”

You bit your lip.

“They made us let you go and…and if they had it their way we would never see you again and I couldn’t handle that. And I was so frustrated and heartbroken and Jin asked me if I wanted to eat and I…I really lost it. I’ve never been so terrified of myself.” He breathed in shakily. “I don’t know why I said those things. I don’t know why it was so important to me, it was just whether I felt like I could eat or not but at that time it felt like a complete judgement of my wellbeing. Whether I was okay or not and I wasn’t, and I argued with him. I argued and argued and Namjoon started arguing with both of us and I was just so frustrated and…I….” His voice cracked, and he looked away from you.

“You hit Jin,” You murmured.

He sobbed slightly and nodded. “I didn’t mean to. I would never hurt them. I hate fighting.”

“I know,” You whispered, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re our sunshine. And I know Jin forgave you. You were under a lot of stress.”

He just pressed his face into your shoulder, crying for a while.

You carded your fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him while he cried and work through it all.

He took a breath finally, barely moving so that he could keep talking. “It was just…really hard to care about work when it was the reason we lost you. When they’re the ones who took you away. I never thought I’d have a time where I questioned the fans’ affection for us but I did. And then the others were struggling so much and I didn’t know how to help. Normally we know how to help each other. We’re so used to it. Usually it would be easy to distract Jimin, or cheer up Jungkook. Normally I could get Jin-hyung to joke with me, or get Yoongi to crack a smile. But…we were also used to you being there for us.”

“It must have been a scary time.”

He nodded slowly. “I think Namjoon thought it was his fault that you were taken away. Like, if he was a better leader then you would have still been with us. He pretty much completely retreated into himself. I know Jin-hyung dragged him out of the house to see the therapist, but other than that he was either in his room or in the studio until about two months ago. That was when we all sort of…came back together.”

“What brought that about?” You asked, curious. It sounded like they were all hot-messes, so you weren’t really able to picture any of them coming together.

Hoseok frowned slightly, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m still not sure. I was in my room with Taehyungie and then Jimin came in and said the others were waiting in the living room. But Namjoon did the talking at first.”

You nodded, carefully wiping the tears from his face. “I love you.”

He gave a sob-laugh and carefully pecked your lips. “Love you too. I’m going to wash my face again.”

You laughed softly. “I don’t blame you. I have to go corner Namjoon.”

“Good luck.”

Namjoon was easy to corner, and he opened up even more easily. “I think we were all blaming ourselves, and sometimes even blaming ourselves for loving you. It’d almost be like if we lost one of the members, we’d all go mad.”

You nodded. “And you spent a lot of time blaming yourself. Also you decided to throw yourself into your work and ended up making a hospital visit.”

He winced a little, rubbing his neck and giving you a sheepish smile. “Not my finest moment. Actually, there were a lot of moments like that after you were taken away.”

“Tae said you tried to step down from being leader.”

He groaned. “It was a nightmare. The members and Bang PD-nim all cornered me after a week and basically told me no, then showed me everything that they did wrong without me. I was fixing it for weeks.”

You laughed softly, sympathetic even if you didn’t completely know what went into it all. “You know they probably gave them extra things to mess up on purpose?”

He nodded. “It did occur to me that that might have been the case. I appreciate that they appreciate me.”

“Anything else happen that you want to tell me about?”

“Yoongi and Jin…I think they’re the only reason we didn’t completely fall apart. And I know I didn’t make it easy for them. Honestly, I think the only one who made it easy was Taehyung. I felt bad when I saw how much Tae was struggling and we had a small fight. I don’t even know that he would call it a fight, but Tae asked to stay with me in the studio and I was insistent on not letting him. He was crying when he left. I think he was trying to reach me, bring me back in. I didn’t let him and I know that hurt him a little.”

You sighed, moving over and cupping his face in your hands. “Joonie. You came back. You continued on as their leader, and all of you are together, and you all found me. Sort of.”

“You definitely found us first,” He answered, pulling your hands off of his face and instead drawing you closer so that he could hug you. He then kissed you somewhat chastely. “You’re the remedy to cure all ills.”

“Definitely not,” You answered, laughing a little. “Namjoon…when you all came together again…what started that?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I technically started it. I was the one to talk about us once we were all gathered…but it was strange how we all gathered. I only know that Jimin got Hoseok and Taehyung. The rest of us seemed to be there intuitively.”

You nodded, a sneaking suspicion that Yoongi or Jin or both of them had somehow managed to coordinate that. You fluttered a bit to reach his lips and place another kiss on them. “Good talk. I’m going to go hunt down a Yoongi or Jin.”

He grinned. “Good luck, baby.”

Jin was easier, since he just finished shaving and was completely unaware of you about to stop him and ask about the time while you were away.

“It was a little rough, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Why?”

“Because all of the others, Yoongi aside because I haven’t talked with him yet, have given me some stories about what happened the first two months after I was taken. It sounds like you had it really rough. Between Hoseok, Jungkook, and possibly Yoongi hitting you and wrestling Jimin to keep him from searching the town like a madman and dragging Namjoon to the psychiatrist….”

Jin looked uncomfortable, which you expected. He didn’t like talking about unpleasant things. He didn’t like dwelling on the unfortunate, he’d rather be happy.

You waited silently for him to say anything.

“Hoseok would have hit anything at that moment, I just happened to be the closest thing to hit. And Jungkook…well…we both provoked that. And Yoongi…he…he didn’t hit me. Not…not like that. His was more like when you cry when your overwhelmed and you try to fight against it. Except he did it to try not to cry. He wanted me to blame him so badly because he blamed himself and I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. It wasn’t his fault and I wouldn’t blame him for it. Life happens. Just like burnt pancakes. All we can do is hope the next pancake doesn’t burn since we have more experience now.” He shrugged.

“You’re okay?” You asked, hugging him.

He nodded. “I’m more than okay, especially now that they’re all happy again. I know it’s still going to be a rough for a while because we’ve got stuff to work through, but the biggest problem is resolved and we have each other to get through things with.”

“You and Yoongi arranged the meeting where you all came back together,” You said firmly.

He smiled and nodded. “Took us a week to set that up. Tae and Jungkook were easy. Hoseok was also ready. Jimin was starting to calm down and listen. Namjoon was talking again. Yoongi and I just carefully planned for everyone to meet in the living room. We really only told Jungkook and Jimin to come to the living room, and with Jungkook it was more like a ‘come cuddle with me because hyung needs you right now’. Namjoon came in and just seemed to think we were waiting to call a meeting because Yoongi was telling Jungkook that someday we would all come back together and I guess the timing was just…perfect. Especially since I was the one to talk to Namjoon about the group coming back together.”

“Sly oldest boys,” You whispered happily, smiling. “They’re so lucky they had you two.”

He smiled back.

“But it must have been exhausting.”

He laughed a bit and nodded. “Yeah. Really exhausting. Yoongi and I would crash in the same bedroom at night sometimes just to complain about how tiresome trying to wrangle them were.”

You giggled, imagining both of them just grumbling until they fell asleep. “Know where Yoongi is?”

He shook his head. “No clue. But he might be in with the others already.”

You nodded. “Help me drag him out if he is?”

“Anything for you.”

Yoongi was in the room, looking confused at Jungkook who was blocking him. “I thought we were watching a movie?”

“After you talk to me, we are,” You replied before Jungkook could. “I don’t expect it to take too long. Seokjinnie’s didn’t.”

Jin stole a kiss for the use of the nickname and the cutesy voice.

Yoongi apprehensively took your outstretched hand and followed you back to his room, sitting with you.

“I just wanted to ask you about the first couple of months after I was taken away,” You said carefully. “Everyone had a bit of a rough time. Jin mentioned that you blamed yourself.”

Yoongi didn’t look at you. “If I had kept my mouth shut about you changing sizes—”

“Then they would have found out some other way,” You quickly cut him off. “That fansign wasn’t the first time they tried to get me in front of a crowd with you boys, it was just the first time they succeeded. Because I didn’t have a choice that time. And you’re one of the ones we get to thank for all of us being together again.”

Yoongi looked at you, meeting your gaze. “You’re…you’ve grown a lot this time.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I really haven’t, I’m just really worried about all of you. Even though most of the things to worry about have passed. I just…I want everyone to recover and know that everything that happened may have happened for a reason. To help you all grow, maybe, or…or maybe to help your fans see that it’s okay for you to have me. That I’m a part of all of you now.”

He laughed silently, then pulled you closer. “You can be small now, little wing. It’s okay. I think now that you’re here a lot of things will get better.”

You felt a little relief wash over you, and you shrunk to the size of a small child, letting him pick you up and carry you back toward the room. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just…hold onto me a little longer,” He said with surprisingly frankness, but as quietly as he could.

So you held onto him tighter, letting him carry you to your designated spot on the bed and telling them you wouldn’t let go when they complained about wanted a spot next to you, and that they could have the spot after the movie.

There was still a lot left unsaid, but you didn’t feel like crying anymore. And if you did feel like crying, you didn’t have to hide your tears.

The bond between them was stronger than ever.

And no one would ever take you from them again.

You would always be loved, and you would always love them.

What more could a fairy ask for?

–

Previous

Masterlist  -  ot7 Masterpost

Tagging:  @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld  @subzerobts     @forvever-ddaeng  @vividwoosan   @mischiefmakerliesmith5  @beach-bitch-bitch-beach  @minmeowmeowcuddles  @kpopfictrash @castlewolfsbane @scatkpoptrash  @knjhe  @i-dont-even-know-fck @soulphoenix1618 @kerikaaria @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @reinaxans @mcusuperfreak @londongirl2011​  

[musette22]

Burning For You

Title: Burning For You Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan) Rating: Teen and up Word count: 3.1k A/N: Written for Evanstan Week day 6, a late fill for the Alternate Universe prompt. This silly piece of fluff is entirely inspired by the wonder that is the Mountain Lodge candle from the Yankee Candle Company. Yes, the one that inspired this iconic Tumblr post. The one that smells like Chris Evans. 

I was lucky enough to receive one as a gift from the wonderful @howdoyousleep3 and my life hasn't been the same since I smelled it for the first time. Thank you for introducing me to such delights baby K, ilyyy 💖 Also BIG thank you to the @evanstanweek​ team and to my beautiful beta @rainbowsandcoconut who came up with the outline for this fic when I told her my idea! Love you, boo 😘

Summary: Evanstan AU. Sebastian gets a little carried away when raving about the Mountain Lodge candle to a friend. It leads to an unexpected, fragrant encounter.

Read on AO3

“Listen, D. You’ve gotta smell this candle.” Sebastian leans in closer, nearly knocking over his - third - glass of red. “You know I’m not usually a scented candle kinda guy, but this one…” He closes his eyes and tips back his head, an expression of pure bliss on his face. “Incredible. Glorious. Magnificent.”

“You look like you’re about to pull a Meg Ryan in When Harry met Sally over there, Seb.”

Sebastian straightens, giving Deirdre a meaningful look across the table at the low-key SoHo bar they’re having drinks at. “You kid, but I’m this close. It’s that good, not even exaggerating.”

“Sure you’re not,” Deirdre huffs, lifting her glass and taking a sizeable gulp of her Cosmopolitan.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” Sebastian shrugs. “You know, I pity you for not having experienced the delights of the Mountain Lodge candle, really. If you knew what it smelled like, you’d be singing its praises too, believe me.”

Deirdre rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Fine, I’ll bite. What does it smell like, Sebastian, pray tell.”

Sebastian sits up eagerly. “It smells…” he starts, “like an evening in that lodge in the Green Mountains we rented with the others a couple of years ago. Remember that? How it felt to relax by the fire after a long day of hiking, the scent of cedarwood and toasted marshmallows in the air?”

“Hmmm,” Deirdre agrees. “That was nice, yeah. But hardly worth busting a nut over, I’d say.”

Sebastian holds up a single finger. “I'm not done. Because this candle doesn’t just smell like the lodge, it also smells like the lumberjack living at the lodge.”

Deirdre frowns. “There was no lumberjack living at the –”

“The metaphorical lumberjack, D, god. Work with me here a little.”

“Oh right, okay. Gotcha.”

“It smells,” Sebastian continues, undeterred, “like soft, worn flannel. Like beard oil and a hint of clean sweat. It smells like a big, strong, gorgeous man who just got done hewing a ginormous tree with his massive axe and cutting it down into firewood, which he’s now using to light the very fireplace in front of which he’ll make sweet, sweet love to you, on the rug that’s actually the skin of a bear that attacked his rescue dog and which this man fought off and killed with his own bare hands.”

“Whooofffff,” Deirdre says, fanning herself with a napkin. “Fine, I’m starting to see the attraction.”

“It smells…” Sebastian goes on, pausing for dramatic effect before delivering his clincher, “like Chris Evans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Deirdre groans loudly, sagging back in her chair. “Ughh, shoulda known this was coming. For chrissake, Sebastian, you literally cannot go even one night without bringing up Chris Evans, can you?”

“I totally can,” Sebastian protests, like the mature, professional, Times-employed literary critic he is. “But you don’t understand, D. This candle, it’s actually like they bottled the very essence of Chris Evans and then infused a candle with it. It’s life-changing.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have a permanent boner for Chris Evans, you wanna marry him and have his little bearded babies, tell me something I don’t know,” Deirdre sighs, draining the last of her drink and immediately starting to look around for the waiter to order a new one. Distantly, Sebastian notices the song playing in the background changing to The Smith’s ‘Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want'. Ah, if only.

“Listen to me,” Sebastian insists, unconsciously starting to speak louder, like he’s some small-town preacher trying to make his ignorant clergy see the light. “Deirdre, darling, you’re one of my oldest friends. I wouldn’t lie to you. I swear, when you smell this candle, you too will feel like you’re being engulfed in the embrace of the brilliant, spectacular, totally unique smokeshow that goes by the name of Chris Evans. It’s as if the man himself is wrapping those huge, muscled arms of his around you, crushing you to his wide chest as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck while his beard brushes your temple and you inhale his masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat, I swear to god – D, are you even listening?”

At some point during the last part of Sebastian’s homily, Deirdre’s eyes drifted to a point over his right shoulder and got stuck there.

“Did you just- zone out?” Sebastian asks indignantly, waving a hand in front of her face. She doesn’t even blink. “Hello? Earth to Deirdre.”

“Seb,” Deirdre says, still not looking at Sebastian.

“Oh, I see,” Sebastian barrels on. “Here I am, pouring my heart out, telling you I found a candle that smells exactly like the man of my dreams and you’re just… What are you doing, actually? Are you okay?”

At this point, Deirdre’s eyes have gone comically round, mouth hanging open just a little. “Sebastian,” she repeats, more urgently now – and just as he’s turning his head to find out what put that dumbfounded look on her face, someone nearby clears their throat.

Sebastian startles, looking up at the man who’s appeared next to their table.

“Hi,” the man says in a deep, rich voice.

A deep, rich voice that Sebastian knows all too well. A deep, rich voice that belongs to none other than Chris Evans, Hollywood heartthrob and actual smokeshow, himself.

Oh.

Sebastian gapes while Chris, dressed in dark wash jeans, a red flannel shirt and a brown shearling jacket, smiles at him patiently. He’s all soft-looking beard and strong nose and bulging biceps and long, lean legs, and Sebastian has died and gone to heaven.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Chris says, “but was just sitting a table over and I couldn’t help but overhear.”

And from one moment to the next, Sebastian crashes forcefully back to earth. His whole body goes cold, the blood draining from his face so quickly he feels dizzy with it.

Fuck. No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. There is no way this is actually happening.

Except it is.

Sebastian had just been extremely, loudly and publicly horny about the very guy that’s standing next to him right now. The guy who is no doubt about to give Sebastian a piece of his mind at best, and a right hook to the jaw at worst. And honestly, he’d deserve it.

Since Sebastian wouldn’t even know where to begin apologizing, he says nothing. Just keeps staring at Chris in ever-growing horror, his pulse pounding in his ears so loudly it almost drowns out the miserable sound of Morrissey still pleading in the background.

Chris clears his throat. “So,” he says, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck. “This candle smells like me, huh?”

Sebastian groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- Oh my god, please, please, please just forget you heard any of that.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Puzzled, Sebastian chances a glance at Chris from between his fingers. He’s partly still covering his face out of embarrassment, and partly because Chris is so gorgeous in real life that Sebastian isn’t sure he could look at him directly without spontaneously combusting. It’s like staring at the fucking sun. He doesn’t seem too angry, though, thank god. In fact, there’s an amused twinkle in his blue eyes that makes Sebastian’s shoulders relax infinitesimally.

“Because it was incredibly inappropriate?” Sebastian suggests, honestly a bit confused about having to explain this to him.

“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “It sounded pretty great. Kinda want to smell it for myself now.”

For some unfathomable reason – probably because unexpectedly seeing his long-time celebrity crush in the flesh broke his brain, Sebastian blurts out, “Oh, I don’t have it with me. It’s back at my apartment.”

Slowly, Chris raises a single eyebrow. The look sends a shiver straight down Sebastian’s spine, from the crown of his head right down to his toes. “Is it now?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian replies breathlessly.

Chris’s gaze drops down to Sebastian’s brown leather boots before slowly travelling back up to his face. “I gotta say, normally someone would at least have to buy me dinner first, but…” He trails off, looking Sebastian straight in the eye before finishing, “I am really curious about this candle.”

“You are?” Sebastian says dumbly, and then “Ow!” when Deirdre delivers an impressively precise kick to his shin under the table. He turns to give her a betrayed look, but when he meets her eyes, with which she’s clearly trying very hard to communicate something to him, he finally catches on. “Oh!” Sebastian whips back around to Chris, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “I- you- you mean like…” He swallows hard. “You wanna come back to my place to, uh, smell the candle?”

Although Chris’s expression remains amused, there’s a hint of trepidation there as well. “Sure,” he says, smiling crookedly. “If… that’s something you’re up for?”

Sebastian’s mind races. The way he sees it, there are two possibilities. Either Chris Evans is actually standing here in the flesh, propositioning him, or Sebastian hit his head in the bathroom earlier and is actually just lying on the dirty tile floor, hallucinating as a result of severe head trauma. The second option seems by far the most likely, but then, his shin does hurt like a sonuvabitch.

Well, fuck.

Sebastian clears his throat and sits up straighter, running a hand through his longish hair. “I mean, yeah, that’s- wow. That. That would be okay with me, uh huh. You mean like, now?”

“If that works for you?”

Without thinking, Sebastian says, “Well, I’m here with Deirdre –” before letting out another sharp yelp as said Deirdre crushes his toes under her heel. “Jesus, D!”

Deirdre ignores him. “Ohhh, would you look at the time,” she exclaims, holding up her wrist which very much doesn’t have a watch on it. “Boy, it’s much later than I thought. I really oughta get going, early start tomorrow.” She yawns theatrically, then grabs her purse and throws down two twenties on the table. “It was lovely seeing you, Sebastian, Chris… Evans,” she adds, with a wooden nod in Chris’s direction. “Hope you two have a lovely evening, bye now!”

And she’s gone.

They both stare after her for a second, and then Chris chuckles – a low sound that reverberates pleasantly in Sebastian’s chest. “Well,” Chris says, turning back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Chris.”

Sebastian stands, taking Chris’s hand, which is warm and big and ever so slightly calloused, and exactly like Sebastian always imagined. “Yeah, I know,” he says, because he’s cool like that. And then, in a show of bravura that surprises even himself, Sebastian holds Chris’s gaze, tilts his head a fraction, and says, “So uh, my place?”

Chris smiles, casually dropping a few bills on the table, more than enough to cover their drinks, before taking a step to the side to let Sebastian pass. “Lead the way,” he says, lightly resting his hand on the small of Sebastian’s back as they make their way towards the exit.

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

It’s only once they’re outside and the cold February night air manages to cool down Sebastian’s overheated brain somewhat that it occurs to him to ask if Chris wasn’t at the bar with anyone.

“I met a friend for drinks but he just left,” Chris explains. “I was just waiting for the bill when I overheard you guys.”

“And you’re sure you don’t have any other plans?” Sebastian asks, because he’s nothing if not a self-sabotaging idiot.

They’re still standing outside the bar, the golden light radiating from a nearby lamppost decorated with a cluster of luminous orbs making Chris look softer, somehow. Still a Hollywood heartthrob, but also charmingly human. Unfortunately, it does absolutely nothing to make Sebastian any less infatuated. If anything, it only endears Chris to him more, which he really didn’t think was possible.

“Not really, no,” Chris replies, amusement in his tone. “I was just gonna go back to my hotel and read for a bit.”

Sebastian perks up at the mention of his area of expertise. “Oh, yeah? What’re you reading?”

“I haven’t started it yet, but it’s this history of space travel? I read a great review of it in the Times the other day, so I thought I’d give it a go.” With a self-deprecating smile, Chris adds, “I’m kind of a space nerd.”

Sebastian blinks. “Not ‘To Infinity and Beyond’, by any chance?”

“That’s the one,” Chris confirms. “You know it?”

“I wrote the review.”

Chris’s eyes go round. “You did not.”

In lieu of replying, Sebastian digs up his wallet from his pocket, takes out his Times-employee card and holds it up for Chris’s inspection.

“Huh,” Chris says, studying the card. “What are the odds.” When his eyes turn back to Sebastian’s, he suddenly breaks out into a grin, wide and boyish. “Well, I guess that explains a thing or two.”

“How do you mean?” Sebastian frowns.

“I mean, that review was brilliantly written so you clearly have a way with words.” With a sly look, Chris goes on, “which explains your colorful descriptions of that candle earlier. The masculine scent of cologne, sex and clean, honest sweat was especially vivid.”

Sebastian groans, dragging a hand down over his face. “Jesus Christ, this is so embarrassing.”

Chris eyes shine with genuine mirth as he laughs, “Hey, come on, don’t worry about it.” He takes a step closer, ducking his head to try and catch Sebastian’s eyes, which are now firmly fixed on the pavement in an attempt to conjure up a hole to swallow him. “Call me a narcissist, but I didn’t exactly hate overhearing a gorgeous guy describing me as the man of his dreams.”

“Oh god,” Sebastian mutters, feeling himself turn a fetching shade of crimson. Trying to hide his blush, he turns around abruptly and nearly walks into the lamppost.

Chris, his savior, his knight in shining armor, manages to grab him by the back of his coat just in time to avoid the imminent collision. Sebastian still stumbles, but strong, capable arms wrapping securely around his waist keep him upright.

Carefully, Sebastian turns in Chris’s embrace so they’re facing each other, though he can’t quite make himself look Chris in the eye yet. “I’m guessing you caught on to this by now,” Sebastian tells the St Christopher pendant resting on Chris’s sternum, “but I’m kind of a disaster.”

Chris just hums, lifting a hand to tilt up Sebastian’s chin with his index finger, a small smile playing on his lips. “A beautiful one, though,” he whispers into the negligible space between them, before he closes that space and presses soft, full lips to Sebastian’s own.

Sebastian can’t suppress the small sound that escapes him when their lips meet, eyes closing on instinct as he lets himself sink into the kiss. Lets Chris take charge and coax open Sebastian’s mouth by running the tip of his tongue along the seam of his lips. Sebastian doesn’t think twice about letting him in. When their tongues touch, sweet and soft and languid, he trembles, pressing closer. Chris tastes a little like beer, and while Sebastian’s never been overly fond of beer, it takes approximately two seconds of being kissed by the hottest man on the planet for it to magically turn into Sebastian’s new favorite taste. Ever.

The kiss starts off slow; a little cautious maybe, as if Chris still isn’t entirely sure it’s welcomed. But then Sebastian’s hands find their way to Chris’s waist, fingers gripping tightly, and Chris slides a hand into Sebastian’s hair, angling his head gently to the left to deepen the kiss – and suddenly, Sebastian’s entire body feels like it’s on fire. He moans, relishing the feel of Chris's soft beard scratching at his clean-shaven cheeks, and way Chris takes control of the kiss, like something right out of every embarrassing fantasy he's ever had.

When Chris hums against his lips, as if he’s enjoying this just as much as Sebastian is, Sebastian’s knees go all weak and useless. It’s a good thing that Chris is there, tightening his left arm around his waist and pulling him more securely against the hard lines of his own body – which actually doesn’t do a thing to help Sebastian’s current knee situation. He whimpers, curling his hands into the fabric of Chris’s coat to anchor himself.

When Chris finally breaks the kiss, he doesn’t go far. His breathing has deepened, warm puffs of air caressing Sebastian’s tingling, wet lips. Sebastian exhales shakily. The way his head is spinning might be partially due to the wine, but it's definitely mostly because of Chris sweeping him off his feet with his smooth, movie star ways.

Needing a moment to gain his composure before he speaks, Sebastian buries his face in the crook of Chris’s neck, taking a deep, steadying breath –

Oh.

“I fucking knew it,” he groans.

Sebastian feels rather than hears Chris’s quiet laugh; feels the vibrations of it shake his broad chest under Sebastian’s palms. “Yeah? Do I really smell like your candle?”

“Better,” Sebastian mutters. On instinct, he presses his lips against Chris’s exposed neck, eliciting a shiver from him.

“You know,” Chris rumbles into Sebastian’s ear. “I still think I need to smell this magical thing for myself. Make sure you’re not just flattering me to get into my pants, y'know?”

Christ.

“Yeah,” Sebastian nods. “Definitely, good thinking. Empirical evidence is paramount. In fact, it’s totally possible I’m just mixing things up right now because my brain’s all” – he makes a poof motion with his hands, trusting Chris will get his drift – “so I think maybe I’ll need to do some comparative research.”

Chris tilts his head in though. “Hands-on research?”

“I think that’s best, yes,” Sebastian concurs.

“Right. Well, out of the two of us, you’re definitely the higher educated one, so I’m just gonna take your word for that.” After a beat, Chris adds, “as long as I get to test a theory or two of my own.”

“Oh?” Sebastian licks his lips. “Such as?”

The wicked glint in Chris’s eyes is the only warning he gets before Chris is sliding his hand back into Sebastian’s hair and giving it a firm, experimental tug.

“Ah,” Sebastian breathes, his eyelids fluttering, the blood rushing south so fast he feels dizzy – again.

Chris grins smugly. “Such as that.”

“Okay,” Sebastian croaks. “Yeah, that seems fair.” Wasting no more time, he reaches out to grab Chris’s free hand and starts to pull him along the pavement in the direction of his apartment.

Chris, laughing as he squeezes Sebastian’s hand, follows closely behind.  

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥

Read on AO3

[disgruntledkittenface]

don’t care if you’re too loud (payneshaw, M, 2k)

Inspired by this tweet

mix it up and down my body (larry, M, 2k)

Harry and Louis use a blindfold for the first time. Girl Direction AU.

please forgive me if my lips quake (larry, GA, 1k)

Harry's pet cat wing-womans her into a date.

an honest mistake (larry, NR, 2k)

Louis has ridden the elevator with his neighbor all week. The first time they speak, there’s a misunderstanding.

nervous (shiall, M, 2k)

Niall walks out of the bathroom and his mouth dries up at the sight in front of him. This isn’t fine. This isn’t anything remotely in the vicinity of fine.

Shawn is sitting by the window, slouched a bit, one elbow rested on the arm of the ugly motel chair. He would look ridiculous, the thing was clearly designed for guests well under six feet, if he didn’t look so fucking sexy.

you’re my rugged heart (lirry, NR, 500 words)

It's the first day of spring. And it's snowing.

it’s in his kiss (multi-pairing, NR, 13k)

Cross posting drabbles I wrote for the kiss meme. Pairings and prompts included in the chapter titles!

black coffee in bed (larry, M, 3k)

The morning after a fight, Louis has to be the bigger person and apologize first.

She hates being the bigger person.

just one look (and i fell so hard) (larry, M, 15k)

Harry has wanted to go to the Shubert Theatre ever since he moved to New York and lucked into a rent-controlled apartment just outside of the Theatre District. When he finally gets his chance, he hopes the night can meet his sky-high expectations. But the last thing he could have expected was the man seated next to him.

walk, walk fashion baby (tomlinshaw, E, 23k)

Louis loves his supportive boyfriend, his passionate and interesting band of friends and coworkers, and his pair of quirky and dedicated dogs. What he doesn’t love is his job as co-editor of the Lifestyle section at a popular site aimed at millennials. But he was getting by until a new assignment landed in his lap: Let Your Boyfriend Dress You For A Week. His best mate Harry assured him it’d be a laugh, a bit of fun, but Louis was sure that Nick would dress him like an utter knob and his mates would take the piss all week.

He didn’t expect to actually learn something about himself.

we should open up (before it’s all too much) (larry, M, 43k)

Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people.

Then he meets Louis.

Leo season (tomlinshaw, NR, 5k)

Carefree. Confident. Over the top. Nick may be a bit of a disaster, but no one can deny the mood for Leo season suits him.

come to me wild and wired (larry, E, 5k)

Harry tries to bat her away, but she’s as weak as a kitten this tired, so Louis continues stroking her arm as she considers her options. She could leave Harry be, let her sleep in her makeup. But unlike some people (like Louis herself), Harry takes her skincare seriously. When she was young, her now seemingly flawless skin was prone to breakouts. Harry’s made a lot of effort to figure out which products work for her and nail down a routine that includes regular Korean face masks. Harry insists her rules of skincare are simple and Louis knows they’re finite.

Rule number one? Always take off your makeup before going to bed.

reach the stars (horchata, M, 19k)

Spring 2021. Four years after breaking up with Louis and moving to New York with his best friend Aimee, Nick runs into Niall and they start dating. When their relationship gets serious, Nick struggles to tell Niall how much he means to him.

[doublekrecs]

ethanol (k. tetsuro)

ethanol (k. tetsuro)

synopsis: your lab partner in chem is annoying.

word count: 4.2 k

college!au, barista!akaashi, e2l, mean!kuroo, meg thee stallion stan!atsumu fem!reader

warnings: a lil angsty, swearing, nsfw, smut, some semi x reader smut, fingering, oral, face sitting, drunk sex, drinking, mentions of weed, degradation, hate sex??, unprotected sex, overstimulation, a lil breathplay?

walking into a stem class, especially chemistry, you expected at least a few girls to be in there with a male majority. it’s not that you didn’t get along with boys, in fact, your best friends were men themselves. but being a girl in a science class meant constantly being talked down upon, sometimes sexualized by some weird ass incels.

so when you walked into your small class as the only girl who knew no one with nowhere to sit, you settled for the next best thing: sitting next to a guy who had seemingly okay vibes. and you spotted exactly that. you couldn’t deny that he was kind of hot, a little rugged looking with his messy rooster hair. though he was only sitting down, you were also able to tell he had some height on him.

you took your seat next to him and waited in silence for the professor to start the class. this class is only a semester long. this repeated in your head like a mantra. one semester. one semester. and it’s next to a seemingly normal hot guy. you could do this. as the professor got right into the topic, you got to work right away. notes were scribbled, important topics were highlighted, your focus completely spent on the class.

“god, your perfume reeks. what did you do? dump the whole bottle?”

you looked to your left. gears were turning in your head and you felt yourself tense at the sound of his first spoken words. are you fucking serious? yeah, you liked your vanilla scented perfume. bokuto did, too. hinata loved it. akaashi was indifferent, but he never said anything negative. one semester, you repeated to yourself. one semester.

“your hair looks like absolute shit, but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

and that was your first impression of kuroo tetsuro, your lab partner. a complete asshole.

-

“and he fucking asked me if i dumped a bottle of perfume on myself! i’m not going to survive this semester with this rooster bitch.”

you sighed loudly and turned to bokuto and hinata who listened intently. while you came down from your red, hot anger, the faces of these two angels helped you feel good again.

“i’m sorry, (y/n), but there’s this one guy in my math class you might get along with. he said he was taking the same chem class, so just tell me when you need help,” bokuto responded, putting his arm around you, “but for now, it’s dinner time.”

“from where?”

“osamu. hinata won a bet against atsumu and now we have free onigiris.”

hinata snickered in the kitchen while akaashi typed away on his laptop. your roommates really were the sweetest.

-

for the next two weeks, the class slowly started more and more labs. you and kuroo mostly stayed silent unless you needed to talk about what to do with various liquids or what solid formed from what. it was okay like this. he was tolerable, except when-

“you’re off by one mililliter.”

“what?”

“you heard me, you’re off by a milliliter.”

you turned to kuroo and your sight is met with his usual stoic expression, “does it even matter? this is a huge beaker and one milliliter is like nothing compared to the rest of the solution.”

“you want to get consistent results, don’t you? so stop being sloppy or else we’re both going to fail this class. you can’t treat this class like the way you treat your perfume.”

shock took over, then boiling anger.

“sloppy? you come here looking like a fucking rooster.”

“what do you mean?”

“have you brushed your fucking hair in the last 3 years? have you looked in the mirror?”

just one semester. one semester.

you calmly composed yourself, remembering that bokuto and hinata had planned a movie night. you can get through this stupid class period. -

“and he lost his shit over one fucking milliliter! can you believe it?”

akaashi listened as he poured the milk into your coffee. you always liked to visit the cafe during the slow hours to check up on your roomie. plus, the quiet atmosphere, the smell of pastries, and akaashi’s pretty face was the perfect setting for ranting about your stupid fucking lab partner.

“i don’t know, (y/n). he’s a bit of an asshole, but maybe he’s just meticulous. it could be a good thing, you know.”

“metic-a-what? i need you to translate your big boy vocabulary, kaash.”

“you know i hate that nickname.”

“yet you have no problem when bokuto calls you that. you’re warming up.” he sighed in response while you gave a toothy grin back up at him.

“you got me there. but what i’m trying to say is that he pays attention to small details. he looks at little intricacies, especially in your assignments.”

“intri-ca-what?”

-

the next month of chem went by fast. you and kuroo had little snarky remarks here and there, but nothing too bad. he was just less of an asshole for right now.

you sat in your usual spot with the same scent of vanilla lingering on you since the first day of school. the class period went by with the usual routine: notebook? check. pen? check. highlighters? check. asshole lab partner? check. until halfway through the lecture-

“shit.” the highlighter ink was running low, your notes were getting less and less vibrant. while you knew highlighting signified some kind of shallow understanding of the subject, color coding helped you organize your thoughts.

you made a note to yourself to buy a new pack the next day.

but then the next day came and there was already a new one at your desk. midliners, in fact, the ones with prettier colors. the ones that were slightly more expensive than your usual ones with a post it note that read your name on it. you had no problem with accepting this anonymous gift, picking it up with admiration shining in your eyes. now you can continue class with your usual routine: notebook? check. pen? check. highlighters? check. asshole lab partner? check.

-

“so no one was going to tell us that we were going to throw a party tonight?”

akaashi spoke sternly to the two children on the couch while you prepared some snacks. for a party. that you discovered was happening tonight. ten minutes ago.

“aghaaashi, we haven’t thrown one in awhile. plus, it’s been awhile since all of us drank together.” bokuto whined. hinata had his full puppy dog eyes on as if he was a little boy begging their dad for a puppy.

“fine. but if anyone throws up, you guys are the ones cleaning the bathroom.”

while akaashi turned around, the children celebrated by excitedly putting out their drinks. this was going to be a long night.

-

there’s some whores in this house. there’s some whores in this house. there’s some whores in this house.

dim lights? check. henny and sprite? check. meg thee stallion? check. the basic tools necessary for a fun night.

tsumu drunkenly held onto you as if you were some kind of pillar. who knew it only took a few shots for such a big man to lose his ability to walk straight?

“(y/n)!!! wap is playing!!!”

“i know, baby, it’s your song!!”

“i know damn well flattykawa isn’t stealing the fucking show!! hold my drink, babe.”

that’s when you kissed his cheek good luck and your buddy disappeared onto the dance floor. and your eyes were met with the sight of a pretty boy staring at you.

“kaashi, who’s that?” your roommate turned to you, the pretty boy, then back to you.

“semi eita. he was in one of my literature classes. he was also on the volleyball team at shiratorizawa in high school.”

“the one with big daddy ushiwaka?”

“yeah,” he grimaced, “he’s in a band now.”

“A BAND??”

“you know what? just remember to use protection-“

kaashi was interrupted by the sight of tsumu throwing it back to hinata. the tangerine haired child really was doing his best, but tsumu was a big man. although, he really did show oikawa up.

“shoyo is so small. is he going to be okay?”

“not my problem.”

your focus went back up to the blondish grey haired musician. ruffled hair, cuffed jeans, a loose shirt. semi eita. huh. you took your last sip and discarded the red solo cup. you took another peak at him. bedroom eyes.

“hey, (y/n), the guy in my math class just got here- oh.”

“i’m gonna have to meet him some other time, bokuto.”

kuroo poured himself another drink and immediately found bokuto full of energy and red faced from the alcohol. a hyena laugh filled the room at the sight of hinata and tsumu, until he scanned the rest of room and saw you. in the hallway. with some guy with grey hair. who you led to an empty room. his heart dropped a little, but he didn’t know why.

“hey, my roommate is kinda busy right now so i can’t really introduce you two,” bokuto apologized, “why do you look like that?”

“like what, owl head?”

“sad.” he spoke with concern.

“oh, i thought i saw this one girl from one of my classes. but it doesn’t matter. let’s go drink.”

-

not even ten minutes later, you were in your bedroom with the pretty grey haired musician, most of your clothes already on the floor. you straddled him and cupped his face as his lips met yours, then your neck, then your shoulder.

his fingers found their way into your panties, quickly finding your clit as he sucked the sweet spot on your neck.

“s-semi.” you whined, grinding on his hand.

“you wanna cum on my fingers first, babe?”

you nodded quickly, lips once again meeting his. he laid you down on your bed, head resting in the crook of your neck. you felt two fingers enter you as semi curled them, his thumb rubbing your clit. the pace was agonizingly slow, but the more vocal you were, the more he sped up.

“you’re so fucking wet, baby. you’re so fucking tight.” he mumbled in your ears.

his mouth made contact with your nipple, swirling his hot tongue over the hardened bud. his mouth continued to move south, eventually replacing his thumb. you felt his tongue circle your clit quickly as his fingers continued the assault on your g spot. you clenched around his fingers, letting out small whines as the coil in you began to tighten.

“i’m going to cum, semi.” you breathed out.

he let out a low groan of affirmation, “don’t hold back, then.” his fingers began to move faster, your g spot being hit even harder. his mouth was back on your clit, sucking the small nub harshly. your thighs began to shake as his fingers fucked you through your high.

he pulled his fingers and his mouth met yours once again, your teeth pulling on his bottom lip. his fingers were brought up to your lips and you sucked on them greedily. this was going to be one hell of a night.

-

the crackling sound of the oil filled your ears as akaashi cracked some eggs onto the pan. the smell of food and coffee drifted in the apartment. the morning after was always nice for you two since you guys rarely drank a ridiculous amount of alcohol. sure, you had to take out some trash and clean up here and there, but surprisingly, no one threw up last night.

“when do you think bokuto and hinata are going to wake up this time?” you asked sipping your coffee while akaashi added rice onto the pan.

“hinata’s awake, he just feels like shit. bokuto fell asleep in the bath tub, so you know the drill.”

you nodded, walking up to the fridge to make your classic hangover concoction. as if on cue, bokuto walked into the living room with his fingers pressed onto his temple and hair looking all sad.

“good morning, you baby.”

“you hooked up with semi, didn’t you?” bokuto responded with a smirk on his face.

“i did what?”

and that was the moment semi decided to emerge from your bedroom shamelessly. his hair was messy, his clothes were all disheveled, and the memories from last night hit you all at once. you didn’t even notice that he was sleeping next to you in your bed when you walked straight to the kitchen for breakfast.

“morning.” he smiled at you and gave you a peck on the cheek. bokuto snickered while akaashi was unphased by the interaction.

“morning.” you responded, your face getting hot as you recalled the events of last night. he was good. very good. you couldn’t deny the fact that he had some talented fingers. and a pretty good stroke game.

“you want any coffee?” akaashi offered, as semi headed towards the door.

“no, i’m good. i’m supposed to eat breakfast with wakatoshi.” he replied groggily. semi let out a yawn and bid bokuto and akaashi a farewell before he pulled you aside.

“thanks for last night. call me if you want to do it again some other time. or not.”

you nodded, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as he left.

“(y/n), you fucking asshole!! you were supposed to get with the guy in my math class!! i knew him in high school he’s a big sweet nerd!” bokuto whined.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll meet him when there’s another party. me and semi were just a one time thing.” you brushed him off as you put all the ingredients in the blender for the hungover children.

-

“all of you are going to have to collaborate with your partner for this lab report.”

you threw your head back with a silent groan. this was going to be a long assignment. you looked to the asshole on your left. his face was expressionless as he looked back at you.

“i know you despise me, but we both want an A on this.”

you couldn’t disagree with him. he had become more tolerable the past few months, often lending you notes that you had missed with the addition of some snarky comment. plus, you often got good scores on your assignments, some of his insight being helpful. at this point, you had developed the habit of going to the cafe akaashi worked at after to rant. he would make you some coffee, lend you some advice, and calm you down as you ranted about your asshole lab partner. it was a whole routine.

“fine. the cafe after class. my friend works there and it isn’t too crowded.”

“okay.”

the rest of the class period went by in the blink of an eye and you finally found yourselves entering the small shop. the scent of coffee and pastries filled your nostrils and a sense of happiness and familiarity flowed through your veins.

“kuroo?” akaashi furrowed his eyebrows.

“kaaaashi!!” he responded excitedly, “i didn’t know you worked here.”

“well, i gotta make money somehow. plus, (y/n) here likes to snag some free coffee during my shifts.” akaashi narrowed his eyes at you.

“wait, you two know each other?” you asked. how did this asshole know your sweet, stoic roommate?

“our volleyball teams played a lot in high school. i used to practice with bokuto and akaashi. you’re their roommate?”

the barista nodded as he prepared your iced coffee, “i was just at your party a week ago. small world.”

kuroo looked at you and the puzzle pieces came together in his head. so this was the cute roommate bokuto boasted about. not bad.

“how do you two know each other?”

“he’s my lab partner.” you grumbled quietly.

“you wanna say that a little louder, sweetheart?”

you flinched at the nickname while kaashi tried his best to hide a smile. it was a small world indeed.

the next few hours were spent sitting across from kuroo, entering data, highlighting important results, interpreting the recorded numbers. it was plain busy work in a cafe, but it oddly felt warm. when it came to writing about applications, kuroo seemed a little better than just tolerable. you would have an idea and he wouldn’t shut it down. instead, he engaged in them and spoke with intent. you would make a small connection to an environmental solution and his face would light up and his eyes would widen in excitement. the input that followed was filled with insight and it almost felt like his heart would pour out. he really did live and breathe chemistry. it was nice to see someone just as passionate as you are.

the bell of the cafe rang signifying another customer. you instinctively looked up, your face immediately lighting up.

“tsum-tsum!!” you jumped excitedly, “i haven’t seen you since you threw back to hinata bokuto’s party!!��

“please do not remind me,” he said with a disappointed sigh, but quickly turned back to his trademark smirk, “but did i look better than flattykawa?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“no.”

“wow, that was cold.”

while tsumu ordered his muffin, you let kuroo know that you were going to take a small ten minute break to catch up with tsumu to which he responded with a grumble.

you quickly got up and sat at another table with tsumu, quickly catching up about the past week and telling him all about kuroo.

“ooo (y/n), you wanna kiss him so bad? he probably wants it, too. i can feel his death glares.” tsumu said with a wide grin and raised eyebrows.

“what? no! that’s my asshole lab partner!” you whisper yelled back.

“whatever you say. the fact you two hate each other thickens the sexual tension, baby girl,” tsumu stood up and placed a kiss on your cheek, “remember to come to my volleyball game on friday, there’s gonna be a party at later that night. i’m sure bokuto told you already.”

you nodded and pulled him into a hug before he left.

“so miya atsumu, huh?” kuroo spoke up as you returned with your iced coffee.

“what about him?”

“you’re dating? i don’t see another reason to waste time that could be used on a project that’s worth a good chunk of our grade.” he replied snarkily.

“he’s a friend, i don’t see why you need to be a dick about me wanting to catch up with a friend.” your head hurt. fifteen minutes ago, he was sweet and insightful. but now, he was a cold asshole again. what the fuck was this guy’s problem?”

“well maybe you should stop slutting around with your ‘friends’ while we’re supposed to be working.” you scoffed. slutting around? is he fucking serious?

“i can’t believe i thought you were a sweet person for a few hours. i can’t stay here if i’m just going to get slut shamed for the rest of our work time. i’ll see you in class tomorrow, you fucking asshole.”

you got up and checked up on akaashi who was already clocking out. he was going to get an earful on the way home tonight.

-

“(y/n), you better not hook up with anyone tonight. you’re meeting my classmate tonight and i don’t want to have to tell him that you were ‘busy’ again.” bokuto pointed at you with a stern look on his face.

“yeah okay, ko.”

“good.”

you walked out to the living room with some light makeup and a skirt. hinata’s eyes lit up as he sped towards you. akaashi rolled his eyes while bo coughed.

“(y/n), you look so pretty!! when did you get that skirt? oh my!!” hinata poked and bombarded you with compliments and questions like the sweet child he is.

“(y/n), why are you wearing your horny stress outfit?” akaashi asked, glaring at the skirt.

“my what?”

“whenever you want to relieve some stress by hooking up with someone, you wear a skirt, dummy,” bo explained, “oh no. the victim better be my math buddy.”

you huffed. sure, they weren’t wrong, but still.

“is this about your lab partner?” akaashi questioned, pulling you aside from bokuto and shoyo.

“maybe,” you paused, “okay, yeah, but there’s been so much tension after that incident and i hate it. it’s stressing me out and the project is due in a few days. let me hook up with bo’s friend.”

“fine.”

-

dim lights? check. henny and sprite? check. meg thee stallion? check. the basic tools necessary for another fun night. now, you were just waiting for bo’s nerd friend to appear.

“tsum tsum!!” you yelled happily, immediately jumping into the arms of one of your best friends.

“i’m glad you made it, (y/n), i missed your ass,” he kissed your cheek, “so who’s the victim tonight?”

“bo’s friend if he’s into that. i’m supposed to be meeting him here.”

“ohhh, the nerdy one, right?”

you nodded while taking a sip of your drink. you already felt more relaxed from the environment of the party. plus, a faint scent of weed filled your nose. it was probably from suna.

“kuroo-san!!” bokuto called out. wait. did you hear him correctly?

“bokuto-san!!” oh, no.

“(y/n), come here! this is my friend from high school! the math one-”

you and kuroo stared at each other, his face expressionless, yours morphing into disbelief. everything bokuto said drowned in the background noise of the party. and suddenly, you connected the dots. oh shit.

“y-you!” you pointed at him, unable to form a full sentence.

“me?”

“yeah, you!”

bokuto paused and watched the scene happening in front of him, “you two know each other?”

“he’s my lab partner, you dumbass!” you yelled while bokuto’s hair spiked up in nervousness. he decided to slowly back away and find hinata before something happened to him.

you poured more henny into your red solo cup and prepared another drink for kuroo. yeah, he was an ass, but you might as well give him a chance to loosen up. maybe get an apology. you held out the cup to him and he muttered a small thank you.

“so,” he started, “our project is due in a few days.”

you sat down next to him while mindlessly playing with the ends of your skirt, “yeah, i guess.” you two sat in awkward silence for another minute.  

“look, asshole-”

“i was just about the apologize, but then you decided to bitch again-”

“you didn’t talk and i want to leave this situation immediately so i can go hook up with-”

“with semi? with atsumu? is that the reason you came?”

“you’ve been on my goddamn nerves lately, i think i’m allowed to sleep with whoever i want so that i can relieve some-”

you were cut off by a pair of soft lips on yours. maybe it was the alcohol, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. the taste of liquor and something sweet on his mouth was intoxicating and you wanted more of it. but you hated him. he was your asshole lab partner after all. but he was also an excellent kisser. kuroo pulled away quickly, but before he can say anything, you spoke.

“what the fuck was that, kuroo?”

“i don’t know, but do you want to do it again?”

“...yes.”

and so you both got up, drunkenly stumbling to a random room. you were immediately pushed onto a bed, kuroo sucking on the spot below your ear as he pinned your body down to the bed.

“you know, i fucking hate the smell of vanilla, but because of you, it’s become one of my favorite scents,” you blushed at the comment as he pulled down your underwear beneath your skirt, “lace, huh? were you planning to get laid?”

“you’ve been stressing me out, what do you fucking think?” you responded with an attitude.

he began rubbing your clit in small circles and you let out a small sigh of relief, “so, you’re a fucking brat, huh? is this how it’s going to go?”

“well, you’re a fucking asshole, so i don’t know how else you expected this to happen.” he pressed harder and quickened his pace as you mewled under him. he found the sweet spot on your neck and began to suck harshly. you felt two fingers enter you slowly while thumb continued the assault on your clit.

“f-faster, tetsuro,” you cried out as he sucked more hickies onto your neck. he curled his fingers and assaulted your g-spot harshly while you clenched on his fingers.

“you’re already close, i can tell,” and then he halted his movements, “but i don’t think you deserve to cum yet.” you whined.

and with that, he entered his fingers into your sensitive cunt once again, kissing his way down your body until he reached your clit which he greedily sucked. you let out small whimpers and moans and you swore you felt him smirk. then a sudden feeling of emptiness.

“fuck you!” you pushed kuroo off of you, getting on top and straddling his lap, “i’ll make myself cum.”

your lips met in a heated kiss and he groaned as you grinded on his clothed crotch, “you’re a fucking brat.”

“i don’t care. shut the fuck up and let me sit on your face.”

he brought your pussy up to his head and gripped your thighs ensuring that you would stay in place while you lifted up your skirt. you felt kitten licks on your clit which only made you go lower until you were able to feel more of his tongue. he licked a strip from your pussy back up to your nub, sucking it harshly. you let out another moan, gripping his hair which only egged him on. the wet muscle found its way into your pussy and fucked you deliciously.

“fuck, tetsu, i’m coming-”

with the sounds you made, your skirt, your tits, and the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, kuroo thought he was going to cream his pants. you shamelessly grinded on his face until the knot in your stomach became tighter and tighter until it eventually broke.

you removed yourself from his face and appreciated the image of your juices on his face, his thick lashes, and sharp cheekbones, until you snapped out of it and went to work on discarding his pants. slipping off his underwear, his cock sprang free. pre cum spilled from the pink tip. sucking a hickey on his inner thigh, you took his cock into your hand, slowly moving it up and down to agitate him as he thrusted into your fist. taking the tip in your mouth, you sucked gently until his hands found themselves tangling into your hair and pushed your head down until he hit the back of your throat.

“you look so good with your mouth stuffed full of my cock,” you sucked in your cheeks and he let out another groan, “who knew this was the way to get you to shut the fuck up.”

you could only moan at his response, sending vibrations down his dick. your head bobbed up and down until you pulled him out of your mouth. you smirked, drool and pre cum dripping down your chin, knowing you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

bringing up your lips to his ear, you spoke, “how does it feel now?”

he replied by pushing down onto the bed and pinning down your wrists. you could feel his tip rubbing your clit, “i was planning to cum in your pussy anyways, slut.”

you felt yourself get wetter at the sound of his voice until he swiftly pushed himself, instantly bottoming out. the stretch stung, but the mix of pleasure and pain had you wanting more. your skirt cinched around your waist, the sight making him even harder.

“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he gave you another kiss before he pulled out all the way and snapped his hips back into you.

his mouth made it way onto your hardened nipple, swirling the bud with his tongue as he set a fast pace for his thrusts. you were vocal, whining every time he buried his cock inside of you. wanting you closer, kuroo harshly grabbed your ass and pulled your body into a new position that hit deeper into you.

“you’re a fucking slut, you know that?” his pace quickened. you were a babbling mess, your breasts bouncing and the knot in your stomach tightening. the sound of your moans and skin slapping against skin filled the room as you came closer to your high. his hand squeezed the sides of you neck firmly. the only thing you were able to feel was him.

“you think atsumu can fuck you like this?”

you were unable to respond coherently as he pounded harder into you, your legs wrapping his waist as you came again. he kept going.

“how about i make you cum again, brat?”

“i-i don’t think i can,” you whimpered.

“sure, you can,” he gripped your hips tighter, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. you felt completely spent, but he refused to quit. he brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly in fast circles and you felt your second high coming.

“f-fuck (y/n).” he let out a final groan as your pussy milked his cock while you saw stars.

kuroo laid on the bed while you two distanced yourselves. you didn’t know what to say, so you scanned your surroundings.

“shit.” you muttered. “what?”

“this is atsumu’s room.”

you both looked at each other for a few seconds before he let out a hyena laugh. you giggled along with him.

“how do you know?”

“i’ve been in here before. just didn’t quite register where we were. we could have fucked in a closet and i wouldn’t notice.” you answered in a light tone.

“so, you’ve been in atsumu’s room before?”

“i mean, yeah. to hang out and stuff,” you turned to him, “why do you care so much?”

“well i thought that reason was obvious considering we just had sex,” he grumbled, “now we’re three feet apart and everything feels awkward.”

“i mean i couldn’t tell if it was just sexual tension from hate or if you actually liked me. it’s kind of hard to tell considering other.. events?”

“well, i like you. i thought you were pretty ever since the first day i met you. i just didn’t know how to tell you so i insulted your perfume and gave you some highlighters,” he rubbed the back of neck, “sorry.” he added quietly.

“sorry,” he looked at you in shock, “for, uh, calling you an asshole, i guess.” you mumbled looking back at him.

“i’m also sorry for calling you a slut. i might have been a bit jealous when i saw you with atsumu. and semi that one night.” he awkwardly laughed and looked the opposite direction.

so he wasn’t good with his words. you scooted your body closer to him and wrapped your arms around him as you got into position to straddle his lap. your head rested on the crook of his neck and his breath hitched.

“don’t worry. you don’t have to say anything.” you kissed the spot below his ear and beamed at him when you pulled away. he swore his heart skipped a beat.

“why are you blushing?” you asked, smirking up at him.

“it’s the ethanol,” he said quickly attempting to hide his face by looking away, “you know how alcohol makes your face turn red and stuff.”

“is the alcohol also the only reason we just fucked?”

“n-no!”

“then do you want to go another round?” you asked innocently, grinding on him once again.

“ye-”

“(y/n)? what the fuck did you and rooster head do in my bed?”

[hetalia-but-make-it-romantic]

loved the last post so much 🥺 can we get general relationship headcanons for canada and america? 1p and 2p please 👉👈

Thank you so much, sweetheart

General Relationship Headcanons

✮America | Alfred Jones✮

Alfred has Annoying High School Freshman Energy and you can’t tell me otherwise

Anyway, he couldn’t actually believe when he developed feelings for you,  he’s 19 afterall!! or, I mean looks like he is

Regardless. he thought he shouldn’t be in a relationship, he should be out there living his best life! Right???

As it would turn out, in order to “live his best life”, he needed you to be by his side

When you two are in an actual relationship, he spoils the ever living f u c k outta you, getting you extravagant gifts and taking you to expensive dates

The ‘expensive date’ portion of that usually isn’t fancy restaurants, but instead trips to Disney World, Magic Mountain, and other fun or fast pace places

He calls you so many cutesy pet names (babe, sugar, honey, darlin’, etc.) that you start to think he forgot your actual name

He wants you to call him cute names too!!

I hope you like stereotypical cowboy accents, because normally he has a mid-western accent (read: none at all), but when he gets tired, it sort of drops to a low southern draw

He lowkey gets embarrassed being all cute with you when his friends (The Boys™) are around, but he’s working on it

At the end of the day, he’s a real sweetheart

Me & You by HONNE

--

✮2p!America | Allen Jones✮

👏New👏York👏accent

Now that the most important thing is out of the way, Allen is very much brash and a fast paced guy, never really staying in one place (or with one person) for too long

He has always preferred little flings and never really had much more than than, but then you just?? Ruined that???

A little bit salty, a little bit confused, but hey, fuck it

When you two are dating, he’s the type of boyfriend to flirt with you in public when he sees you, pretending like you’re just some attractive stranger who caught his attention

It’s a little game he enjoys plating so try to flirt back

His dates are more old school too, taking you to drive-ins and family diners mostly

l o v e s kissing you tbh

However, if you’ve eaten meat or other animal products, he will straight up refuse to do so until you brush your teeth

Will encourage you to eat animal substitutes too but won’t force it in you

He does, however, have some anger problems, so, when arguments between you two do happen, it can get l o u d

If you ask him to and give him encouragement along the way, he’ll try his best to seek anger management counseling

In spite of his flaws, he really does just want to make you happy and feel safe

Last of The Real Ones by Fall Out Boy

--

◈ Canada | Mathew Williams ◈

Matthew is an absolute sweetheart, but he has the habit of being a tab bit on the shy side

He developed feelings for you when you two were hanging out as friends, getting coffee/hot chocolate/tea in the early afternoon, both wearing what you slept in and his hair was a bit messy, tied back in a tiny pony tail

Maybe it was the way the afternoon sun hit you, maybe it was your smile, but he was s m i t t e n

He most likely didn’t tell you about his feelings right away, you being the one to ask him out

He- he can be a bit of a sassy prick, ngl

It’s mainly snide little remarks under his breath during World Conference meetings, but they’re lowkey kinda funny roasts

While you two are in a relationship, he’ll work up the courage to flirt with you, but if you do it back he’ll get immediately flustered

He also likes  complimenting you, so at least once a week, you’ll wake up to a sticky note on the bathroom mirror for you saying a little compliment about something he likes about you

Also he enjoys baking when he’s kinda strung out, so he’ll often make things, taking any dietary restrictions you may have into consideration, and putting them in some tupperware for you

At some point early on in the relationship, France would take you and Mathew out to lunch so he can meet who his cher fils is so taken with

He’s gotta make sure you’re treating him right, afterall

Someone To You (Acoustic) by BANNERS

--

◈ 2p!Canada | James Mathieu Williams ◈

He’s not great at expressing affection or romantic interest at all

He didn’t ask you out when he liked you, as he had it in his mind that you deserved better than him

In his eyes, you’re kind and wonderful, he’s gruff and more on the aggressive side, making him a bit of a mess

When you asked him out (or if you’re too shy, Allen got impatient and asked you out for him) he was a little on the cautious side of things

As the relationship progresses though, he’s quite happy, even if he doesn’t necessarily show it

The way he shows affection for you is through quality time

He’ll set some time aside just to spend hours with you

Which reminds me, his dates aren’t anything extra, he prefers spending them at his place, and he wouldn’t go out of his way to do much more unless you ask him too

His place, by the way, being a quaint, albeit kinda sus looking, cabin in the northern area of Canada, sitting just on the outskirts of a forest

You two would spend hours sitting on the couch or rug in front of the fireplace, doing whatever it is you two would enjoy doing together (or even separate, he just likes having you in the same general vicinity as him)

In other news, he’s been wearing the same red, black, and gray flannel for months, please remove and wash it

Sedated by Hozier

[lady-himbo]

In Your Shadow

sort of Javier Peña x reader, platonic!Steve Murphy x reader (she/her pronouns; no Y/N used)

Javi keeps getting the credit for work he didn’t do, and she’s pissed. Chaos ensues.

Word count: 2500+

Warnings: angst and frustration, lots of cursing, potentially horrid Spanish (I’m learning, I promise), smoking

A/N: This is based on the song Shadow by Unlike Pluto. You can find pieces of the lyrics in the dialogue. You can also find the translations of everything said in Spanish at the end! Feel free to correct me on anything; like I said, I’m learning Spanish, and I appreciate any advice. <3

“... and thank you again to Agente Peña for providing this invaluable intel.” As the meeting adjourned and several individuals voiced their praise, she charged out of the briefing room and into the office, seething, death-gripping her files to her chest. Hot on her heels, Steve attempted to pacify her.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to steal your thunder, honey. He’s just-”

“What? He’s just what, Steve? A senior agent? Running the show? A man? Tell me, what exactly justifies him getting credit for the shit I’ve worked months on?!” The files were starting to crumple in her grasp.

“Well, I don-”

“This isn’t even the first time he’s done it! He’s gotten recognition for my informants, my intel, my translations, my briefings, my goddamn livelihood!” Her voice was starting to raise in pitch and volume as tears gathered in her eyes. Steve held his hands up, trying to silently reason with her. “I can’t win, Steven! I work my ass off day and night for this fuckin’ job, only to have the rug pulled out from under me because I’m ‘not working as hard’ as holier-than-thou Javier goddamn Peña and his massive ego! I have to live under it and, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, it casts giant shadows!”

Unfortunately, the source of her rage had picked an inopportune time to waltz in. With only a second to register Steve’s panicked look, Javi might as well have wandered into the middle of a firing squad. The execution probably wouldn’t have been half as painful.

“You motherfucker!” she yelled, slamming the now torn and wrinkled papers onto her desk with a clatter. “You lying, power-hungry, manipulative bastard! You fuck every other woman you get the chance to, but you’ve decided to fuck my life instead! I’ve worked for fucking months; hundreds of hours and sleepless nights on this information, and you’ve taken all the credit! Again!”

Javi, oblivious to the full impact of this outburst, opted for the worst possible response. “Come on, sweetheart, we’re working as a team. Plus, you asked me to hand it in to Noonan. If you wanted to take credit for it so badly, you should’ve just talked to her yourself!” Steve visibly cringed and gestured for him to cut it out. Too late.

She stalked forward and, though Javi tried to back up, she had him backed into a corner. “You pompous ass! ¡Más tonto y no naces!” She’d broken out her Spanish. Oh boy. “I can’t even talk to Noonan because she always tells me to run my ideas by your incompetant ass! You cast a shadow over everything I try to do; it’s not like I can get anything worthwhile done when your massive ego’s towering over my ambitions!” She jabbed a finger into his chest, punctuating her words. “Nothing I’ve ever done here has ever mattered to the agency, because I live in your shadow and you’ve taken all of it from me! When will you move out of my way and stop treating me like a fucking doormat?!”

Javi was starting to get defensive, which was never a good sign, especially when Spanish started to get sprinkled in. “¡Oh, lo siento mucho!” he shot back sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware that all the work you get authorized by me to do was proprietary!”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” she spat. “All you had to do was say the report was from me! It’s not proprietary, Peña, it’s my goddamn right to present the information that I spent my own money, overtime, health, and physical fucking safety to acquire! I’m sorry that I have a genuine interest in making sure this case gets handled right instead of spending my every waking moment getting my dick wet in my informants!”

A small group was starting to gather near the office, waiting to hear if Peña finally got his ass handed to him. This didn’t seem to bother either agent as they glared each other down. With Peña’s pride now on the line, no holds were barred, and he was ready to bust out personal attacks.

“Any competent agent would’ve just handed their shit in themselves, but no, you’ve gotta rely on someone else to do it for you.” He was livid; his pride had been damaged while he was riding the high of gloat and achievement, like getting laid and immediately being punched in the balls. She wasn’t letting this one go, and it was obvious he wasn’t either. “God! You’re like a cloud every time you walk in here, bitching about how little sleep you’re getting or how your work is piling up; a fuckin’ rain on my parade!” He stepped forward, crowding her, his posture more and more assertive with every word. “¡Madura de una vez! You’re an adult, a government agent, taking down a drug cartel run by Pablo fuckin’ Escobar! No one’s getting sleep, and it certainly doesn’t help when you’re whining about it! Maybe if you stopped, you’d have time to turn in your own reports and get the credit you don’t deserve!”

Escobar himself could’ve walked through the office and no one would’ve noticed. Javi’s mouth slammed shut the moment the words left, but they seemed to echo in the eerily silent office. Her shoulders sagged, and she stumbled back a few steps, trying to steady herself.

“Fuck, I-” Javi choked on his words. Her eyes were red, her cheeks stained, but her face was frighteningly level.

“Yeah, tienes razón.” Her voice was hollow, tired. “It’s always stormy lately. I guess I’m just under too much pressure; it’s driving me insane. There’s only one way to relieve it.” She slipped off her gun holster and unclipped her badge, pressing them into his chest. “I quit.” Without a second glance, she stormed out of the office.

Two weeks later, her desk was cleared out, her files and informants were on a list to be redistributed to the rest of the unit, and the office was uncomfortably heavy. Javi was smoking way more than usual, everyone avoided him like the plague, Steve was bored, the case was at a standstill, and the quiet was palpable. She was no longer a colorful presence flitting around the tables, leaving a rainbow of Post-it Notes in her wake, charting cell signals, calling out for advice, chatting on the phone in Spanglish, humming quietly or bobbing her head to the radio, popping up to refill her coffee cup and offering to refill everyone else’s every couple hours, then rushing off to the bathroom when she’d had too much. She was a constant presence the unit soon realized they’d taken advantage of.

The phone on Steve’s desk rang mid-morning, and he stifled a yawn as he picked it up. “Murphy,” he grunted.

“Hey, Stevie,” came a familiar voice. “¿Qué pasa?”

He brightened. “Hey, hon.” He felt some of the tension leave him, but it was still there. “We’re fuckin’ stuck. Nothing’s happening, everyone’s lifeless, and Javi’s still moping. Eso es lo que pasa.” He could hear her breathy laugh; she was always proud when he practiced his conversational Spanish with her. She’d told him she felt it was an honor he was comfortable enough to try it out around her. “What’s up with you?”

“Ahí vamos; he estado mejor. I’m sorry you have to deal with-” she stopped and huffed, then her words became muffled. “Tengo una cita con la embajadora, huevón. ¡Estoy al teléfono!” She yelped. “¡Tócame otra vez y te rompo la nariz!” There was a brief commotion, then a thump, and suddenly, her voice became clear again. “Sorry, I’m waiting on Noonan. I’m supposed to meet with her today to finalize my paperwork.”

Steve sighed. “You’re really going through with this, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Another voice called her name in the background, then spoke quietly for a moment. “What?! ¿Qué quiere decir ‘no está aquí’?” The voice spoke again, then there was a pause. “Okay… Si, todo bien… Está bien. Listo.” Then, back to Steve: “Noonan didn’t show. Some emergency meeting. Just great; I guess I’m rescheduling.”

“Maybe it’s fate!” Steve teased, only half joking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Javi trudge across the office to the coffee pot, give it a long, forlorn look, then trudge back towards his desk. His eyes were heavy, his shirt rumpled, even his mustache looked sad. As he plopped down amongst towers of papers, Steve cleared his throat and made a show of nestling the handset under his chin. “Well, whatever the case, that gives me time to convince you to stay with us. Your desk looks stupid empty.” Though he was deliberately looking away, he could see Javi’s head and shoulders snap up like he’d heard a gunshot. On the other end of the line, she laughed.

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Murphy. I’d welcome the company, though.”

“Of course!” he replied, making sure his smile was as cheesy as possible. “I’ll meet you outside in a little bit?” She agreed.

Steve busied himself with pretending to look busy for the next half hour, then announced he was going to talk to Carrillo. As soon as he turned the corner and was sure he was out of sight, he watched Javi scramble out of his seat and out the door.

Outside the building, she was sitting on a bench, her back turned. Lazy wisps of cigarette smoke danced in the wind in front of her figure, and Javi suddenly felt very insecure. He called her name, uncomfortable with the way his voice wavered. She jumped, then, after a beat, slowly turned towards him. “Come mierda, Javier.” He didn’t let her words deter him, approaching the side of the bench. She glared up at him. “No me joda. I’ll finish up in a second and leave.” He wrung his hands, feeling small under her stare.

“I’m going to sit with you,” he declared.

“Please go,” she said, softer this time. “I just wanna feel the wind one last time before I leave. Just wanna look at this shitty masterpiece of a city; really take it in.”

He ignored her plea and sat, far enough away that he didn’t feel like he was ganging up on her. They just sat, and she took long, deep drags of her cigarette. After she eventually ground the butt into the pavement, he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” He left the declaration hanging in the wind for a moment, before plunging on. “I’m sorry for what I said, and what I’ve been doing to you. I’ve been a selfish asshole, and you were right to call me out on that. I’m not going to convince you to stay, because you don’t deserve to be dealing with my bullshit all the time. You’re talented and selfless and I never appreciated everything you sacrificed for us until it was gone. I just- fuck, I feel like such a piece of shit.”

“You are.” He blinked owlishly. “You’re a self-centered, impulsive manwhore with a weird mixture of self-hatred and a superiority complex. You’ve been a horrible coworker and I almost feel ashamed that I tried so hard to be your friend.” He ducked his head, trying to hide his mortification. “Almost.”

He peered back up at her, cocking his head in confusion. “That said, you’re a great agent, kind and sympathetic when you wanna be, passionate about the work we do, and, when you keep a level head, you’re fun to work with. I don’t know if I can forgive you right now for all the shit you did, but your apology goes a long way. I appreciate that.”

She took a deep breath, then stilled, staring out into the movement and noise of Medellín. He watched her for a few minutes, though it felt like hours. He watched the clenching and unclenching of her jaw, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her eyelashes; all the details he’d been too busy to notice. “Penny for your thoughts?”

She looked over, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know. I’m just thinkin’ about life. What I want to do.”

“I know it doesn’t amount to much, but I’d like you to stay.”

“I can’t- I mean, I can, it’s just that- fuck, I don’t even know,” she mumbled, furrowing her brows to try to stop a tear from slipping down her cheek. “It’s just that, by all official records, I’m pretty much worthless here, y’know? All my abilities go unnoticed and it’s like I’m not even there. I know you don’t mean to stand above me, but you are, and the shadow I live under is killing me. It’s taken my job, my self worth, my… being. I can’t live like that anymore, constantly working at the precipice of death, of destruction, of failure, and the one thing I can do to help isn’t even appreciated as my own. It’s just… cold.”

Javi nodded. “After you left, I went up to Noonan and explained what’d happened; that I didn’t deserve any of the credit I’d been given.”

“Well, that’s not true! The things that you did you deserve credit for. You’re incredibly talented, Javi, just not with my intel.”

“But… you do deserve the credit I get. You deserve so much more than you‘ve ever gotten. What I said was so selfish.”

She grabbed his hand. “Javi, selfishness aside, I know you’re in a dark place. We all are. After all, we’re government agents ‘taking down a drug cartel run by Pablo fuckin’ Escobar’ and we don’t get any sleep.” She smiled at her usage of the words he’d berated her with weeks earlier. “I should’ve taken more initiative to turn in my own work; it was silly of me to put that on you. I know you’ve got your own mess going on. Plus, I said a lot of awful things right back. Most of them I meant, some of them I didn’t, but I could’ve handled it all a lot better. I’m sorry we didn’t work this out earlier.”

Javi squeezed her hand, feeling a little warm tingle in his stomach. “Me too.” He sighed, raking his other hand through his hair. “I- er, we really do need your help. You’re priceless.” She exhaled sharply, tilting her head back and forth as if weighing her options.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Noonan.” Javi’s face lit up. “But on two conditions.” He nodded. “One: I get recognition for my past and future work, and two: you promise to work with me and call on me if we have any issues. We can’t have these communication errors any longer if we’re gonna catch these bastards.” She paused, then smiled lightly. “Also, you owe me a lot of coffee.”

Just as Javi agreed, Steve came out of the building. He stopped a few paces from them, looking back and forth from Javi’s pink cheeks and goofy grin, her teary eyes, and their interlaced hands. “I’m sorry, what did I miss?”

She laughed as they pulled their hands apart and she wiped the tears away. “I’m keeping my job.”

“That’s amazing! …Peña, what did you dose her with?” Javi let out the fakest laugh he could, but smiled along with it. She sighed softly, the breeze dancing across her skin.

“All I want is to cast my own shadow.”

Translations:

¡Más tonto y no naces! - If you were any dumber, you wouldn’t have been born!)

¡Oh, lo siento mucho! -> Oh, I’m so sorry!

¡Madura de una vez! -> Grow up!

tienes razón -> you’re right

¿Qué pasa? -> What’s up?

Eso es lo que pasa. -> That’s what’s up.

Ahí vamos; he estado mejor. -> Fine, I guess; I’ve been better.

Tengo una cita con la embajadora, huevón. ¡Estoy al teléfono! -> I have an appointment with the ambassador, asshole. I’m on the phone!

¡Tócame otra vez y te rompo la nariz! -> Touch me again and I’ll break your nose!

¿Qué quiere decir ‘no está aquí’? -> What do you mean ‘she’s not here’?

Si, todo bien… Está bien. Listo. -> Yeah, all good… all right. Okay.

Come mierda -> Eat shit

No me joda. -> Don’t fuck with me.