#maybe throw a pillow under your head if you're lucky

[sharpsuite]

" . . . I didn't realize sleep time would need to be mandated. "

[little-annie]

How they got stuck sharing the only remaining bed in the Hopper-Byers family home when they came to visit, they'll never know. (It involved some meddling on both Robin's and Dustin's behalf….. and Joyce and Hopper and Jonathan and El and Will, and literally everyone else who thinks they just need to figure their shit out and get together already.)

But they did.

And Christ if they weren't pissy about it.

They were roommates for God's sake, they saw enough of each other as is. But noooo, they had to get stuck bunking with each other for the weekend too.

They'd began bickering almost immediately when they'd entered the room and saw the state of their situation.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, no. Fuck you Harrington. I'm older-’

“By like a year -”

“I'm older and my poor boy bones are brittle. I get the bed.”

“Poor boy bones.” Steve huffs to himself, taking one quick glance at Eddie and beginning to strip, hoping that if he gets into bed first they won't have to continue this argument.

Eddie catches on almost immediately, undoing his stupid handcuff belt buckle with little struggle and kicking himself out of his jeans so fast he nearly eats the edge of the dresser to his right. “You're young.” Eddie states while trying to catch his breath, “The floor will do you just fine.”

They're both down to their underwear in a matter of seconds. Belts clanking, denim dropping and fabric flying. Eddie in his boxers, Steve in his white briefs that he's sure he hears Eddie snicker at even in his apparent displeasure.

Soon enough they're both trying to climb into bed, pushing and shoving, throwing elbows when the other one kicks out a bony knee. Both scrambling to get under the covers and claim their right to the bed.

Pulling the lone pillow swiftly beneath his head, Eddie grumbles. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed.”

“It's a twin Harrington.”

“Yeah and my hips hurt.” Steve answers, driving an elbow with regrettable strength into Eddie's ribs as he continues to try to gain some purchase on the narrow bed. “I'm not sleeping on the floor.” He wiggles around some more, at the moment hoping Eddie might just fall off onto the floor. “Shove over.”

Maybe they can manage to share.

“It's a twin!” Squawks Eddie while bracing himself against the nightstand, pushing Steve back with cold feet to his shins.

“And give me some of the blankets.”

“There's only one pillow!”

“So share.”

Both huffing, wriggling around, pushing and shoving, pulling at the single blanket and the only pillow, they try to get comfy on their backs. Which won't happen because they can't fucking fit that way. The goddamn bed is too narrow and Eddie's bony ass everything is digging into Steve's side as he hangs with half of his ass off of the bed.

“Lay on your side.” Eddie grumbles with a shove.

“What? Why?”

“Because we don't fit like this, Princess. Roll onto your side.”

Ignoring how that nickname makes his cheeks flare in the moonlit room, Steve starts to roll over, leaning to his left and moving to put Eddie at his back. Maybe that way he'll actually get some peace and qui-

“Not like that!” Eddie all but screeches, shoving at Steve's back so hard he nearly falls off, "You want my dick pressed to your ass all night?”

Truthfully that doesn't sound as awful as Eddie's making it out to be. The prick. Steve thinks he has a rather nice ass and Eddie would only be so lucky.

“Well you want your dick pressed against my dick all night? That's the only other option, Munson.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, sighs dramatically and mutters something to himself that Steve's not quite able to catch, before he actually speaks, “Fine. Fine! Just roll over so you're facing me, but just keep your hips back.”

‘Keep your hips back,’ as if Steve would just roll over dick first and press himself right up against Eddie.

Steve tries and fails to muffle his irritated groan as he rolls over to where he's facing Eddie on the same flat pillow.

God they're close.

Noses nearly touching.

In his moment of bitterness and just pure irritation at the situation, Steve had forgotten how pretty Eddie was.

His eyes are so dark in the moonlight.

The rest of him blanketed in a hazy midnight blue, his freckles akin to a star speckled sky.

Steve could never get tired of this view.

“Better?” Steve whispers, trying and failing to ignore the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Eddie's eyes search his for what feels like aeons before he answers. “Fuck you.” There's no real heat to his words, tone more so matching Steve's as he smiles with a lopsided smirk.

Steve rolls his eyes, teasing, if only to see Eddie sputter, “Mmmm, I'll take a rain check on that.” He delights in Eddie's choked off gasp before he continues, “But I will warn you, I'm a cuddler.”

“Course you are.” Eddie grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest and closing his eyes with a flutter of his long dark lashes.

After a moment of quiet Steve takes a chance and presses his foot to Eddie's, soft beneath his sole, and so fucking cold.

Eddie doesn't pull away.

“G’ night.” He whispers instead, pressing his foot just a touch closer, the breath of his words falling against Steve's lips.

“Good night.”

—

The next morning they wake in a tangled mess.

It's hot and sweaty and they're physically stuck together at all points where naked skin meets.

Which is pretty much everywhere.

Eddie's one hand is in Steve's hair as if throughout the night he felt the need to play with it, and his other is so tightly grasped to Steve's bare waist it almost hurts.

His nose is otherwise buried in Steve's neck where he can hear Eddie's faint snores and is sure there's the wetness of drool lying along his clavicle.

It's all a little disgusting.

But also kind of wonderful.

His one arm is numb where it lies beneath Eddie's head.

Steve shuffles enough to separate at least some of their sweat damp skin, noticing in the same instant how where Eddie's plastered against his hip, he's also obviously hard.

So much so that when Steve looks down there's a damp spot in his underwear.

Oh.

Maybe he'll take that rain check sooner rather than later.

Eddie groans in his sleep, hot air breathed against Steve's neck as he rolls his hips and this time lets a soft moan escape.

Yep, definitely taking that rain check now.

Maybe they'll figure their shit out sooner than everyone had anticipated.

“Get off of me, I wanna suck your-”

😉 The End

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you do a fluffy and angsty fic for Lando after Austria, his girl comforting him. I'm surprised there aren't more after what happened under the tags but the only ones that were there are smut, which I don't really want to read I want fluff and angst.

sorry it took me so long to respond anon! i've been swamped.

tw: fem! reader, swears, AUSTRIA!!!!, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1k

you watch as lando trailed after max and you knew one of two things was inevitable. either lando was going to overtake max and finally take the lead after what seemed like forever, or the two boys were going to crash into each other.

you watch with one eye open every time lando tries to overtake max. you makes your body tense up as you fear that this will be the time their tires touch. you try to stay hopeful but you know that this will not end well, neither drivers willing to give up their positions and both trying to fight for that first place position.

it happens so quickly, it was a blink and you'll miss it incident. all you see is lando's mclaren try another move on max then something flying in the air. you can hear shouts from the mclaren team around you but you were still confused, you were not sure what exactly was happening. you watch as max slows down and lando finally overtakes him. you hear that he has received a five second penalty. you see a flash of a red bull fly past in the pit lane and then suddenly, lando's own car is stopped, practically half of its back wheel missing. it is then that it finally registers. they had contact and it had caused lando to retire from the race (you later found out it was his own decision).

you had not been with lando long enough to know what to do in this kind of situation. you just stay where you are for ten minutes until maybe the last few laps of the race when you feel lando's presence looming around you.

he does not even have to ask you to follow him as he heads towards his drivers room, head bowed down, not even looking where he was going. the boy was lucky he did not walk into any walls. if it had been any other situation you would have laughed at his carelessness but right now you had no clue how to act.

once you were both in the privacy of his room, lando slumps down on the little couch headfirst. you linger at the door, your hands longing to soothe him and your mind crying out to tell him it will all be alright.

"are you alright?" you question. it comes off timid as much as you tried to seem confident. you knew it was a silly question. you knew he was not fine but you just felt like you had to ask. lando sighs into one of the throw pillows at the question. for some reason this is what spurs you to spring into action. you take the few steps over to join him on the couch and sit as the space next to his feet.

"lando, look at me." you tell him, you voice much more firm and stable than before. lando does as you ask and turns himself so he is facing you and looks at you so sadly he might as well have just ripped out your heart out and jumped on it right there and then.

"that was all max's fault. you did nothing wrong. you tried an overtake, you wouldn't be a racer if you just sat back and let max lead the whole race. you're the only person on the grid who is consistently challenging max every weekend, that's something to be proud of.” you grab his hand gently and let your thumb rub it's own path along the skin of wrist.

"i'm shit. i've had one win and now i can't seem to do it again and when i finally get the chance to, like today, max just fucks me up because he would rather dnf than finish second! and he didn't even retire the fucking car he actually kept on racing which makes me look even worse!" by the end of his rant his voice was louder and you could see the tears of frustration in his eyes.

you swiftly pull him up by his hand to be face to face with you. you hold eye contact with him, letting him know how much you meant what you were going to say.

"you are not shit, lando. you've had one win and now you're hungry for more, of course it's gonna hurt a little when you come second again but listen to me. every single race you are getting closer and closer to max. i know you want it to be now but just because it isn't doesn't mean you're shit. it just means that max knows you are more of a threat than before miami and he can't just saunter along like he did at the start of the season. you're doing so well, please don't doubt yourself."

lando listens through your entire rant without trying to interrupt once and once you are finished talking he drops his head into your lap. "i really, really thought i was gonna get it this time. i really wanted it." he mumbles into your thigh. you know it is killing him and you cannot stand it. you know the only thing you can do to help him though, is to listen to him and give him the most comfort you can manage.

you sigh, hand coming to run through his sweaty, messy curls. "i know, baby. it's coming and it will be so fucking great when it does. i'll be here waiting for you and then we can celebrate like it's first, huh? that sound good?"

you can feel the small smile lando manages on your leg as he nods against it.

you stay like that for what seems like ages but you know it cannot be that long because before lando can even ask the time there is a knock on his door, alerting him that he had press to do in two minutes. he sighs and hauls himself from his comfortable position.

"you're so strong lan, be strong." you tell him with a quick kiss to his lips. lando knows it is a good luck kiss. lando also knows that you know how much he hates doing any kind of press or media when he was feeling like this.

"wish you could come with me." lando's frown is so deep it sort of looks like a half pout half frown. you smile at his cuteness.

"when you come back we can go back to the hotel, order in and watch that adam sandler film you like."

this seems to perk the boy up significantly as he give you a peck on the forehead before rushing out to get his media done and dusted. a night in with you sounded like heaven to him right now. he did not want to me reminded of the events of the day's race but he would put up with it for the end result. you and him cuddled up, together. it is all he ever wants.

[viviennevermillion]

*slides into your inbox because HSR requests are open*

Hey Vi! I was wondering if I could request some heacanons for Sampo, Blade, and your boy Luocha with a reader who likes to play with/run their hands through the boys hair? They all have such pretty hair and I want to play with it!

Anyway take your time of course, and I hope you're doing well! Please remember to take care of yourself!

playing with their hair

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: ryker, yayyy, thank you for sending in a request! you made me think about sampo and realize that he's the funniest fucking character in the entire game and so much fun to write for. i had a blast with his banner too, the song fits him so well 💀🩵

btw requests are open and if you guys would like to read more of my works, check my masterlist!

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: carried me with you — brandi carlile

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: sampo, blade, luocha

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: very slight angst in blade's (i'm so sorry, i'm trying, i promise)

Sampo loves when you play with his hair. He'd be 100% down for you trying ridiculous hairstyles on him but on a good day he'll put a pillow in your lap and puts his hands behind his head, sinking into the soft fabric. He closes his eyes when your fingertips start carding through his blue strands of hair. "This is the good life", he sighs and winks at you, "now all you'd need to do would be feeding me grapes like they do in the movies and things would be perfect." "Wait until I throw you off the couch", you shoot him a warning glare. "Hey, hey, I jest", he puts his hands up defensively and laughs.

"You know I'm lucky to have you", he takes your free hand into his and presses a kiss to your knuckles, "this is like we're straight out of a romantic piece of literature, don't you think?" You raised an eyebrow at him: "You're not exactly what I'd consider a romance novel protagonist."

He sighs. "True. I'm more like, the court jester who fell in love with the pretty royal heir", he reaches up to cup your cheek, caressing it gently with his fingertips. "And I love you for it", you laugh as he sits up to press a kiss to your lips. You bury your fingers in his hair whilst kissing back.

You take a deep breath and drift off into your own thoughts now that Sampo was quiet for a moment. A rare occurence, really.

As you enjoy this moment with your beloved, you think back to the chaos that was all over Belobog recently. "Hey, what do you think our friends from the Astral Express are doing now?", you wonder and Sampo sinks back into your lap again, resting his cheek against your stomach. "Maybe fighting a giant, strong lady with the help of a dragon, but what do I know?", he shrugs with a satisfied smile on his face. "Isn't it usually the other way around?", you raise an eyebrow. "It is, isn't it?", he puts a finger to his chin and chuckles.

You laugh and ruffle his hair. "You always have such an overactive imagination. You should write a book." "As much as I'd slay as an author, I'm just doomed by the narrative like the rest of us, darling."

Blade enjoys when you run your fingers through his hair. It's a sensation that momentarily distracts him from everything else that is going on in that busy, but tired mind of his; so it's well-appreciated.

He will not let you mess up his hair under any circumstance. Kafka calling him "Bladie", a terrible habit that rubbed off on you, was bad enough. He didn't need her and Silver Wolf to tease him about having a ponytail on top of his head with several braids going off from it, tied together with colorful hair ties.

Thankfully, you were sane enough not to attempt that.

But he does let you do a few nice hairstyles that look good on him; like a simple, long braid. He doesn't care for what he looks like after all these years of being alive but you seemed to find joy in it and it made his daily life easier sometimes to have his hair put together in a braid.

Sometimes when you sit behind him and braid his hair, you press a few teasing kisses to his neck. Unfortunately for his usually so serious demeanor, Blade is the most ticklish person you have ever met, so that's one of the only things that gets a laugh out of him; even if he didn't feel it emotionally. You brush a strand of his hair back, relishing in the sound he made so rarely; a slight tinge of sadness in your heart and a thought you didn't dare voice.

I wish I could see you laugh more... I'd do anything to make you happy.

He also lets you brush his hair every morning if you want to. His hair is so soft, as you have told him many times. He always wonders how something so simple could bring you so much joy; but he's glad that it does.

Luocha always takes good care of his hair; after all a professional appearance was important for a merchant. His hair is very soft and silky and you have a great time brushing and braiding it.

He teaches you how to do his signature hairstyle. It's quite difficult to do on his own so he appreciates that you're happy to help. This pretty much became a routine for the two of you in the morning.

Sometimes he'd try to get up at night to go to the bathroom and find you accidentally laying on his hair. He hisses an "ouch" under his breath, sometimes waking you up in the process. Once he's back in your arms, you massage his scalp and carefully run your fingers through his blond strands to make up for the painful accident.

In the morning, you tend to sit behind him and do his hair, often littering his neck and shoulders in the process. "Is this just an excuse for you to give me kisses?", he chuckles and shakes his head. "I suppose you caught me", you sigh with a smile on your face and Luocha turns his head to pull you into a deep kiss that catches you off guard. You quickly melt into the gesture, closing your eyes and noting how pleasant the taste of his lips is. You presume he applies lip balm in the morning before you do his hair but you never actually saw him do it.

When he gets home after a long day, depending on what hairstyle you did for him, his scalp hurts sometimes when you undo his braid so he loves to rest his head in your lap and have you ease brush your fingers through his hair.

[asteiioss]

Soft curls

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Warnings/Content: fluff, no smut, bathing together, mentions of sex (indirectly)

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I'm usually inspired to write by songs. And this one was just inspired by "Sweet." Aside from that, I always imagined what it would look like if Spencer came home after a long case, so exhausted after it only to be left at the mercy and help of his lover. So enjoy reading the fantasies I come up with in broad daylight. :)

Spencer came home late that day. Not the usual late, but the late late version where most of the normal people were already getting ready for bed or maybe even asleep aready. The sensor lights turned on as he reached his last flight of stairs, where he was just a few steps away from his home. Taking out his keys, he struggled to git the apartment key in the door, so it made a clacking sound as he missed a few times.

When he finally placed the key in the door, he unlocked it and breathed out heavily, from tiredness and relief that he was finally home after days of handling a very hard case. He was welcomed by the sight of his girlfriend curled up in a blanket on the couch, one of the small pillows supporting her back while she held a book in her hands. She had her hair tied up in a messy bun she probably just picked up with one hand movement. There wasn't much light in the room aside from the small streaks of light that the corner lamp was casting. And that was perfect because the exhausted Dr. Spencer Reid wasn't ready to deal with flashing lights right now.

His girlfriend looked up from her book to see him still standing on the doorway, taking in the sight of her, and she softly smiled at her dear lover. "Hello, handsome. You finally found the way home, huh?"

Spencer didn't say anything. He just smiled and closed the door behind him. Throwing his bag over his head, he just left it on the floor next to the entrance and, with tired steps, came up to his girlfriend. She placed a bookmark in between the pages she was lastly reading and closed her book to leave it aside. Opening the blanket as a come here sign for him, he climbed on top of her, his legs and arms at her sides, before he placed his head on her chest. She threw the blanket over the small of his back before her hands dragged slowly across his entire back with her fingertips, gently scratching him.

"I missed you." He mumbled against her chest, groaning at her hand movement over his shirt. The tension of his muscles slowly evaporated with every new touch.

"I missed you too, honey." She said as she changed the pace of her scratches, moving her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. Spencer didn't waste time before he wrapped his arms around her back to pull her a little closer to him, even though she couldn't physically be closer to him. But it didn't matter. He felt like on cloud nine.

"Can I sleep on you tonight?" He mumbled again, his voice muffled into the fabric of her pajamas, his face buried in her. As he heavily breathed, he didn't hesitate to take in her scent.

She chuckled at his request, making his head jump from the hich of her giggle. He smiled at his forced movement. "Honey, you'll be lucky if I make it half an hour like this. You're heavy." She shifted under him, trying to make herself more comfortable under the pressures of his entire bodyweight. "And, besides, you should go take a shower. Your shirt is sticking to your back, and it will make you feel better." She said as she continued scratching his back up and down, going over his shoulders every couple of times.

"I can't. I'll just be sticky and stinky until tomorrow." He, again, muffled against her chest, not being bothered to raise his head so he could speak more clearly.

She giggled, again making his head jump slightly at the raising and falling of her chest. He smiled at the quiet sounds of her laughter. "Not on my watch, Dr. Reid." She changed the routine of her scratches, moving up his neck and letting her fingers intertwine with his curls. "Your hair could use a wash too." She continued as she played with his hair.

"I really can't. Please don't make me." He protested.

"How about this -" she started, taking a small strand of his hair and putting it behind his ear. "I'll go and prepare a bath for you. That way, you can get cleaned and enjoy a nice, warm, relaxing soak. How does that sound?" She whispered, lowering her head to his so he could heat her better.

Now, this suggestion was worth lifting his head for Spencer. He quickly looked up, his eyes sleepy. Looking at her with one eye open, he smiled. "That sounds good." He nodded. "But under one condition."

She tilted her head, interested in what he was thinking about. "Please, do tell, good sir." She said in a british accent, which made him chuckle.

"You join me."

She pressed her lips together, them slowly moving into a smirk on her face as his words sunk into her. Spencer was a good boy. There was no doubt about that. The nerdy profiler couldn't possibly be anything else. Right? Behind four walls with his lover, he was a new person. Not many people knew. "Fine." She answered shortly and moved forward to reach his lips with hers. Kissing them softly, she could feel the exhaustion in him. "But no funny business, okay? I'm not up for any of that."

"Pinky promise." He raised his pinky finger and let her wrap hers around it.

It didn't take long for her to prepare everything. Warm water filled with bubbles, the bathroom smelled on lavender from the scented candles she lit instead of turning on the light. She prepared a bodywash and shampoo her boyfriend could reach out to easily, and placed a new pair of towels and a bathrobe for the two on the small desk next yo the tub.

After they both took off their clothes, she was the first one to get in. Slowly sinking in her body inch by inch, she sat at the end of the tub, making enough space for him to join her. He sat in front of her, his back facing her, letting himself sink into her embrace.

"You really are tired, huh?" She let her hands fall over his shoulders onto his chest. He mumbled a confirmation as he couldn't hold back his head anymore and just let it fall back onto her.

"Could you wash my hair?" He turned slightly to look into her eyes, making a puppy face.

She smiled as she brushed his cheek with her finger. She lowered herself onto his lips, kissing him. The kiss was tired and sloppy. Lazy from both sides yet full of love. "Okay." She said when she broke the kiss.

Reaching out for the shampoo, she poured it into her hand and brushed her hands together to spread the shampoo easily over his hair. She used her fingers as a brush to go through the damp strands of his curls. Meanwhile, Spencer would let out a groan here and there when he couldn't control the enjoyment of the sensation.

"I love you, you know that, right?" He shifted in the tub to turn around and sit face to face with her. His hair was covered in shampoo that dripped on the sides of his face. She placed her hands on both sides of his neck, her palms drawn up to slowly make circles on his jaw and, in no regular pattern, went over his cheek.

"Is that because I just bathed you, or maybe you need another favor?" She smirked as she looked at his tired face. Pulling him closer, she only touched the tip of her lips with his, not really kissing him all the way. He breathed out, his breath hitting her skin as he was eager to feel her.

"I just love you." His lips caressed hers, and she could feel his desire to just kiss her.

"I love you too." She said and finally kissed him. Again, the lazy and sloppy his was slow and loving. He moved his hands to her hips that were in the soapy water. Pulling her in, she had no choice but to obligate. With the small space they were in, she was forced to sit on his lap so she could be as close as she was to him. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she deepened the kiss, and it instantly became passionate.

Spencer smiled against her lips while holding her lower back so she didn't slip off his lap. "I thought you said no funny business."

Backing away, she looked him with a small smirk on her face. "I did. And I'm sticking to my words. I just wanted to kiss you. I spent over a week without those kisses, and I missed them."

He hummed in satisfaction, but knowing he felt the same way. He began being hungry for her after such a long time they spent apart. But it was routine. His job included that non-warning traveling pretty often. But she was understanding and never really complained to him about his absence, mostly because it was out of his control, and he would always make sure to make up to her.

"Let me whrince this soap off of your head." She reached over to the shower head, and as she turned back to him, he was spreading the shampoo over his short beard. "Is that you, Santa?" She said in a high-pitched voice.

"Ho ho ho." Spencer used his most deep goice he could find and tilted his head from side to with each sound he made. She started laughing, and he followed, going over to kiss her neck, leaving soapy patches on her skin. She turned on the water and sprayed him, forcing him to back up.

"Bad Santa, you didn't get me the bike I wanted as a kid." She continued spraying him with water as he tried to block it with his hand.

"I wonder why." He said after she stopped attacking him. She gasped and chuckled at his words.

[fallingformatt]

FIRST GLANCE M.S. PT. 2

Matt x fem!reader

summary: as you’re trying to get your mind off of Matt you bump into someone, who could it be?

warnings: smutttt!!!!! unprotected sex, overstimulation, praising.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: the first part is available here

at first I didn’t know where to start on this one, but bro I’m actually in love with this second part.

I also made my account pretty and made a masterlist with all of my works it’s available here

feel free to leave requests on what I should write next or what you would like to read in general ;) or just yap w me

this post is not proofread

➽───────────────❥

"You taste so sweet, I could eat you out all night."

"Shit, you feel so good around my cock baby."

"You're such a good girl for me, fuck."

It has been 3 days since I bumped into him, and every night as I was trying to fall asleep, vivid flashbacks were running through my head, subconsciously making my hand slide down my panties, pleasuring myself, desperately trying to catch the pleasure from that night but with no success.

I was going insane. Recalling that night I was tipsy and I don't quite remember his name, I think it was Matt, but I do remember everything else. His eyes, his fluffy hair, his moans and his dick. His cold rings on my skin, his grip on my thighs, the cold counter against my ripped tights as he was eating me out, overstimulating me.

I groan as I turn around in my bed laying down on my stomach, pulling my pillow under my head as I grab it with both of my hands and let out a scream of frustration, still thinking about that night, and then it hit me, 'his number. He gave me his number before I left, and I wrote it down somewhere' I think to myself, my eyes shoot open as I reach for my phone sitting up in my bed, and unlocking it. I start scrolling through my phone frantically.

"Think, think, think, think, come on, where did you write it down," I say out loud to myself trying to find his number.

I continue scrolling through my phone, it now has been 30 minutes, no luck. I groan as I throw my phone off my bed.

'Maybe it was meant to be just one time.' I think to myself, trying to console myself. I lay down, now laying on my back, staring at the ceiling. 'This can't be true, there is no way this was meant to be one and done, I refuse to believe that.' I think to myself

"I need to get my mind off of him," I say out loud and slide out of my bed similarly to as a snake would. Now laying on my fuzzy rug next to my bed I grab my phone I previously threw and unlock it searching for my best friend's number. I start calling.

"Hey let's do something, I need to get my mind off of some things," I say hopeful that she has something already planned.

"Yeah I'm down, what do you want to do?" She answers and my face grows a small frown.

"I don't know, to be honest, I was hoping you would have already something planned," I say truthfully.

"Well it's your lucky day, I do have something planned, I just wanted to know what mood you're in, let's meet at my place in like 2ish hours" my friend answers.

"Oh my god ur the best, I love you," I say and end the call.

My mood is already getting better. I get up from the floor and walk to my vanity excitedly. I sit down and put in rollers in my hair before starting on my makeup.

Once I finished my makeup I got up from the chair and walked to my closet. I swung open the closet door and started searching for something to wear. I don't know what to wear, and I don't know what occasion to dress for since I forgot to ask my friend where we're going or what are we doing.

I pulled out a dark red, leather miniskirt and put it on, I paired it with a black, skin-tight short-sleeve top, that had a huge cutout in the back, and put on black kitten heels that matched the vibe of the outfit perfectly. I walked to the mirror to see if I liked the outfit.

I went back to my vanity and took out the rollers in my hair, I put in some gold jewelry and was ready to head out.

Before leaving my apartment I check the time and it reads 3:26 PM, I text my best friend that I'm heading out and walk out of the door, I get in my car and drive to her place.

"I'm here," I say loudly as I walk into her apartment, I put down my purse on the couch and head to her room, I open the door and see her doing her makeup. "Heyy girl," I walk over to her, and hug her, greeting her. I sit down on her bed and watch her get ready as we chitchat.

"Like ever since that night, I literally can't stop thinking about him," I say looking at her. She turns to look at me removing the lip liner from her lips. "This sounds bad, I know what we need," she says. I tilt my head in confusion, waiting for her to finish her thought. "There's our favorite wine in the fridge," she signals to the kitchen with her head before she turns back to finish her lips.

I head over to the kitchen, open the fridge, and take out the wine, I get two wine glasses and walk back to her room. I set the glasses down on her table before opening the bottle of wine and pouring some for the both of us.

"Oh my god ur finally ready," I say as I get up from the bed. While she was getting ready we finished the bottle of wine. "You look great," I say and she blows me a kiss as a thank you.

"Where are we going?" I ask raising an eyebrow. "Well I thought we could head out to a bar, then see where the night takes us," she says. "What bar did you have in mind?" I ask. "Well the one we went to recently, the one with the cute bow mirror," she answers me and my smile drops. "Girl, I'm trying to forget about him, not retrace my steps," I say as I cross my arms. "Well it's not the only bar, we can go to a different one, or we can go to a party one of my friends is throwing," she offers.

We get out of the apartment and get an uber to drive to the party. When we pulled up to the beach house it was still light outside, the loud music and people were buzzing all over the place. We get out of the car and head to the front door which is left open as people are constantly walking in and out.

We head in and there are a lot of people here, some are dancing, some drinking their drinks and talking, and there are even people swimming in the pool in the backyard. The view of the beach is beautiful, "Do you want anything to drink?" I ask my friend. "Yeah, I spy with my little eye a red wine bottle that just screams 'drink me, drink me', " she says making me laugh.

I go to the kitchen where all of the alcohol is, I pour the wine into some cups for me and my friend, I take both of the cups in my hand and turn around to walk back to the living room where my friend is, but before I get the chance to start walking I smash into someone, wine spilling everywhere. "I am so sorry," I say as I immediately bend down to pick up the cups without looking at who I smashed into, embarrassed that I have caused a mess in the house of a person I don't even know.

I feel a thumb press against my chin and another finger below it as someone pushes my chin up so I would be looking up. When my eyes travel up my stare widens as I see who it is. I stand up putting the spilled cups on the kitchen counter without looking, "I am so sorry Matt," I say as I'm once again looking at the fluffy haired guy. I already feel myself getting wet.

"You're so clumsy," he says as he looks down, making me also look, his white shirt is now covered in dark red liquid. I grab some paper towels and start rubbing his shirt frantically. "I didn't mean that to happen," I say focused on the stain. He grabs my wrists to stop me. "It's okay, besides you're not gonna get that out with just some paper towels," he says trying to calm me down.

"Let's go to the bathroom, and run it under some water," I offer, he nods in agreement. I take his hand as I lead the way to the bathroom. This house is huge and I can't seem to find the bathroom anywhere, I hear Matt laughing from behind as I open every door, hoping that it's the bathroom. "Stop laughing at me, I don't know where shit is, I don't live here and I've never been here before," I say, anger and frustration can be heard in my tone. "You're hot when ur angry," Matt says, taking the lead as we head to the bathroom.

"Did you know where it is all this time?" I ask entering the bathroom. He nods his head, "my friend is throwing a party here, it's his house," he says also walking in and closing the door behind him. "What ar-" Before Matt gets to finish his question I smash my lips onto his, my hands immediately traveling to his fluffy hair. He grabs my ass, his one hand traveling to the back of my upper thigh signaling me to jump and I do just that. "It's cold," I say and Matt looks at me completely confused. I look down at his shirt which is drenched in wine. He also looks down and chuckles a bit.

Matt sits me down on the counter of the sink. Flashbacks immediately run through my head, "It doesn't matter, I need you," I say as I pull him closer to me pushing my lips onto his once again, he picks me up and presses me against the bathroom door not breaking the kiss. He breaks the kiss, letting go of my ass and letting me down. I look at him confused. "Not here," he says before he opens the door pulling me out of the bathroom by my hand.

We walk through the living room passing the crowd that's dancing, my eyes lock with my best friend and a huge smile creeps up on my face as I point to Matt with my head waving at my friend. Matt's leading us to the second story of the house, his steps are fast, as we walk up, the music gets quieter, and he opens the door to what I'm guessing is a guest bedroom.

He pulls me into the room, closing the door before pushing me against it, his lips traveling to mine. As the kiss deepens I can feel Matt smirk, my hands travel down to his crotch, and I move my hand up and down, massaging his cock through the jeans, and he lets out a moan.

"C'mon baby," Matt says as his hand moves to mine. I remove my hand from his crotch and unbutton his jeans, his lips meet mine again, his hand traveling to the nape of my head. I slowly walk towards the bed, guiding Matt with me, not breaking the kiss.

I break the kiss pulling and tugging Matt's stained shirt, signaling him to take it off. He pulls it off over his head, and I wrap my fingers around the hem of my shirt pulling it over my head. I watch his face as his eyes move to my boobs. I unbuckle my leather skirt, pulling it down along with my panties.

I give Matt a slight push, he sits down on the bed behind him and I get on top of him. I press my lips on his neck leaving sweet, wet kisses on his neck, sucking on it leaving a mark. I feel his hips buck up yarning for me, I start grinding my hips against his clothed dick and he lets out a moan. I push my lips on him as I feel his hands travel to the waistband of his boxers and jeans, I pick up my ass so he can push them down.

I feel his hard cock brush against my pussy before I grab it and guide it, aligning with my entrance. I slide down on it letting out a loud moan as I throw back my head. "You feel so good on my cock princess," Matt moans out. His lips leave a trail from my neck to my breasts as I bounce on his cock. "Oh my god Matt," I moan out.

His mouth wraps around my nipple, sucking on it as his hand rests on my ass, he gives it a slap before sliding up my waist, and my back and stopping at my other boob massaging it.

I fasten my speed as I feel the climax coming, I let out a loud moan, "I'm close Matt," I moan out, he wraps his hands around my back and turns me around, laying me in the bed, he's now on top of me, he starts pounding into me as he rests his elbow next to my head, his lips attacking my neck leaving dark marks on my skin.

My hand travels to his hair, my fingers playing around his fluffy hair, "don't stop Matt, ple-" I moan out and he starts thrusting deeper and faster, his hand travels down my thigh sliding it up and down before he guides it to wrap around his waist. I let out a moan as I felt the knot in my stomach about to burst. "I'm cumming," I scream out as I feel my walls tighten around his cock, my back arching.

He continues planting deep and fast thrusts, my back still arched, my legs lightly starting to shake around his waist. "Matt," I cry out. "Shhh baby, not yet, I know you missed this," he says his voice deep, he buries his head in the nape of my neck, fastening his speed, my hands traveling to his back, my fingernails digging into his skin, I hear him hiss through his moans as I leave marks on his back.

He picks up his head, "your pussy feels so good around me," he moans out. "Look at me," he says, his voice filled with lust as he starts to move even faster making my head roll back as the pleasure takes over my body and I feel a knot forming in my stomach once again.

"Look at me," his voice is demanding and strong, his hand wraps around my jaw pulling it down, making me look at him, his eyes are dark. "Did you miss my cock?" He asks keeping his thrusts strong and fast. I nod my head. "Words baby, I need words," he growls. "Fuck yes, yes Matt I missed your cock so bad," I blur out "Good girl," Matt says pushing his thumb against my lips. I part them open sucking on it.

My hands reach for the sheets as I grasp them in between my fingers. "I bet you rubbed your clit thinking of me," he says with a smirk on his face, my eyes widen as I let out a moan, "that's right baby, you missed me," Matt says as he pulls his thumb out of my mouth, his thumb travels to my clit as he starts rubbing circles on it. I throw my head back as I let out a moan, "I'm close, don't stop," I let him know.

He buries his head in the nape of my neck once again, pushing in me, "fuck you feel so good princess," he moans against my skin pushing me over the edge. "I- I-," I can't seem to finish my sentence as I feel my climax taking over me once again. I ride out my high as I feel him twitching inside of me, "fuck," he breathes out before planting his seed into me, his teeth coming in contact with my skin in order to not let out a moan.

He lays next to me, pulling me next to him, I lay my head on his chest and I look up, "we managed to bump into each other 3 times," I say and feel his fingers brushing through my hair. "I guess it's settled then," he says, his breathing still uneven, "we're a thing, so we don't have to bump into each other again," he lets out a chuckle looking outside the window, his hand traveling down to my ass, "wanna go to the beach?" He asks and a smile creeps on his lips. I nod my head and push my lips onto his, kissing him.

[jamesdegriz]

A few personal headcannons about Jordan and being in a relationship with them (gn!reader)

There's a smut under this line! MDI!!!!

(GIFs are not mine but found so if you recognise your work and want to be tugged send me a DM 🙂)

- They are the total dom! in their female form. If you want roughness, relentless teasing and dirty talk they are there with the strap-on, fingers and skilled tongue to make you moan, whimper and beg till you can't think straight.

-Male form Jordan is a closetted pillow princess (I would die on that hill). Unless you rile them up or make them jealous so they have to fuck you into the nearest bathroom/closet, they would much prefer to lay down and let you have all control.

- Also if you want to tease them do it when they are in male form, just be prepared for retaliation when they switch.

- Be prepared for bruises, love bites and hickeys.

• The first time they see bruises of their fingers left on you hips and thighs, they feel guilty. That is until they realise that everytime anything brushes over the bruises, you blush furiously remembering how you got them.

• They would also kiss every single one of the bruises, whispering praises into your skin before going down on you.

• They would not admit that they love the small exclamations of suprise and despair when you notice more hickeys on your neck and chest the next morning.

• They would buy you a lot of scarves to cover up as an only half-sincere apology attempt. That's before they realise those scarves can be used to tie your hands while they are edging you. (And maybe chocking if you are into the breath play)

- I also think that they would enjoy edging you all through a movie when you're cuddled to watch something in the afternoon or evening.

• They most probably wouldn't let you cum till the credits roll, but if you do they would make you come as many times as you can handle (and a few times more than you think you're capable of)

• They will whisper dirty praises into your ear, telling how good you are doing and how you can take some more.

• They will rut into you ass or side, essentially dry humping you, while they tease you.

- Intense love/hate relationship with you sneaking under their desk to give them blowjob or cunni as they try to study.

• One time, on a dare, it was under their TA desk in Crimefighting building. It was incredibly lucky that you didn't get caught.

• They blatantly refuse to see the problem when they do the same to you. One time while your presentation for an online class. You had to retake that class.

- More about parties and quickies:

Despite how my ADHD loves to imagine Jordan domming the hell out of their partner. I also like the idea of making the first move.

• It starts with just an affectionate quick kisses here and there, before turning feverish, messy with the hands in each other hair.

• When you're finally alone, you hand sneaks into their pants feeling how wet or hard they are already for you.

- Your fingers run along their slit, the lips puffy and wet. You rub their clit between your fingers watching their face for reaction. Their lips are pursed in what others might assume is unamused expression but you know better. They are just being bratty, not entirely liking that you're taking charge.

- You wrap your fingers around their cock, starting a slow pace. You tease the sensative head with your thumb with every up stroke. They throw their head against the wall, cracking it slightly on impact. They bite their lower lip trying to keep moans in check as their cheeks flush red.

[weepingwillowwonder]

This is NSFW Hasbin Hotel : Vox & Lucifer (seperately)

Reactions to Shy!Reader with an oral fixation~

CW: Explicit content, cockwarming, dirty talk, some degradation, daddy kink, penetration, finger sucking, praise kink

----

Vox - Is absolutely the type to make you hold his cock in your mouth while he's working...

Despite the door being open at the moment, you hesitantly peek inside and give a soft knock on the door. “What?” He questions sharply, arms crossed, staring ahead at the surveillance footage in front of him. You quietly enter the office, biting your lip in anticipation. Once Vox sees it's you, he sighs in annoyance. “Babydoll…” he drawls. “What are you doing here?” You look down and shift slightly, mumbling some excuse about both Valentino and Velvette being busy…something else about wanting his attention after being alone all morning. 

He considers you for a moment before sitting down and swiveling himself around towards his desk, typing away at his keyboard. “What did I say about coming to my office while I’m working?” he asks. You slowly lift your head up to see him briefly glance over his shoulder before going back to typing. You’re not sure if you should answer that question, hoping that he’ll take your silence for some sort of apology. After all, you knew it was a gamble coming here anyway, especially for something as silly as this. A long pause of silence passes before he asks you the question again, this time more firmly. “What. Did. I. Say?” He fully turns towards you now and you can’t help but think about how attractive he looks in this moment. Arms crossed against his chest, legs spread wide in his office chair. Your voice breaks slightly when you open your mouth to answer, “Y-you said not to…” He slowly nods his head and turns back around. For a moment, his lack of reaction gives you the false hope of getting out of whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into. 

As you open your mouth again to try to defend yourself, he cuts you off - “...lock the door and come here.” Your breath starts to quicken slightly and you’re frozen in place at his command. You’re not sure where the courage went that put you in this situation to begin with. Vox continues his work, almost as if this whole encounter wasn’t occurring. What does get your feet scrambling to move is the dangerous sound of his voice when he speaks again. “Don’t make me ask you again.” 

-And now your knees are, oh so bruised, from holding their position under his desk. However, you wouldn’t dare to move, scared of displeasing Vox any further. He would ignore your presence, entirely focused on his work and the task at hand. Maybe if you're lucky, he might absentmindedly stroke the top of your head, giving you some sort of indication that he remembers you're still there. It's only when he starts to get close that he'll grip your hair, roughly thrusting himself in and out of your mouth - "Can't get anything done with you whining about wanting attention.” He’d throw his head back and moan deeply, “always whining about wanting something in your mouth. Such a little slut. This is what you wanted, right? Be good and take it all..."

Lucifer - - You wouldn't tell him you needed it, but as experienced as Lucifer is, he would already know...

He'd have you in his bed, laying on your back like the pillow prince or princess you are. Slowly slipping his cock into you, he firmly holds your hips in place as you unconsciously try to move away from the overwhelming sensation. "Don't run from me..." He softly laughs and smirks down at you, setting a fast pace that hits deeper into you. "You're taking it so well, sweetheart..."

Unable to look him in the eye, you turn your head to the side, thoughtlessly pressing your fingers up to your mouth to cover your moans. You gasp suddenly as he finds that special spot and keeps pressing into you, reveling in your reaction. "So good...so good" He growls out, sliding his hands down your thighs before grabbing the backs of your knees and forcing them to your chest. You whine pathetically as he continues to praise you, his eyes briefly slipping closed, enjoying the feeling of you squeezing around him. When they open, his hips stutter as he glances down at you.

One of your hands weak presses against his chest, not really trying to push him away, but feeling overwhelmed in the moment. The other, however, has your three middle fingers disappeared into your mouth, desperately sucking as you feel yourself getting close. Lucifer curses and spends no time to give you what you need. He maneuvers your legs so they're now wrapped around his waist and takes your free wrists into his hand, pinning it above your head. Your eyes suddenly snap open when you feel him sliding your hand out of your mouth, messy with your own saliva, and replaces it with his own. He bites his lip as you eagerly accept him into your mouth, whining desperately around his fingers. It doesn't take much longer to push you over the edge after that, especially with Lucifer coaxing the orgasm out of you- "...that's it baby, you just needed daddy's fingers right?"

[di-in-al]

~Drifting into Desire~ PART III

>Warnings: Profanity. Smoking.

>Word Count: 8.5k

>Tags 18+ future smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + all characters over age 21 + 1990s themed + no quirks + reader insert

>A/N: Hello hello! This is a chunky chapter, so I hope you enjoy the ride!

>taglist: @simp-plague

part II

~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~

The annoying sound of your phone ringing woke you up. In your sleepiness it was like a siren, piercing your ears. You could tell it was still early, not feeling the suns rays peeking through your window. The digital clock on your nightstand read an absurdly early time. 

4:00 AM. Fuck that.

 It rang seven times, each one getting ignored. Silence filled your room once again, and you could feel your mind slipping back into sleep. 

Not even a full minute passes before its ringing again, causing you to bury your head under your pillow. It only helps slightly, not nearly enough for you to completely block it out. Each ring gets more and more shrill, causing a deep groan to travel to your throat. At this rate, Momo is gonna wake up. Throwing the covers off of your body, it recoils with the cool air of the room. Trudging over to your phone, you yank it off of the wall.

“Can I fucking help you?” Did you mean to sound that angry? No. Did it feel good? Most definitely.

A deep chuckle came from the other side, and it caused your anger to swell. 

“Well good morning sunshine,” The monotone voice of your uncle came from the other end. “You ready for your first day at school? You’re already late by the way.” 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This early? 

“What the fuck? Do you know what time it is?” Your hand came up to wipe the sleep from your eyes, your mind trying to even come to realize you're on earth. Without a second thought, you hear him reply.

“4:02. Meaning you’re two minutes late as of right now.” You hear the sound of him sipping on something. “You have until I finish this coffee before I leave and this whole thing is off.” 

Panic shoots through you. Knowing your insomniac uncle, he can kill a cup of coffee in less than ten minutes. It takes a minimum of twenty to get to the Pass. 

“I always forget, you’re not much of a talker in the mornings. Consider this your first lesson, kid. I'll be at the top.” 

“Fine,” you snapped, tossing your hair over your shoulders. You threw open your closet, rummaging through clothes until you spotted your favorite racing outfit: a fitted black tank top and high-waisted cargo pants. As you pulled them on, your fingers brushed over the rough fabric, igniting familiar embers of determination. Grabbing the keys from the side table, you sprinted down the stairs, each step echoing your urgency.

You swung open the front door and dashed toward your wine-red Mazda, heart hammering in your chest. The engine roared to life, a familiar growl that pulsed through your veins, igniting adrenaline. You tore out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the asphalt, the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber filling your senses.

It took you two minutes to get ready, that means there’s eight minutes left. You add more weight to the accelerator, listening as your car whines with the added speed. Your gears were maxed out, taking the straight highway helped with cutting a couple extra seconds off. 

A mix of buildings and lights blurred as you flew past them, each street light illuminating your face for a fraction of a second. The off ramp for the mountain pass came up quick, making you downshift swiftly and throw the back end of your car out into a drift. Drifting the complete semi-circle, you downshift one more time, this time to gain some speed. 

Checking your watch, the panic rises again. Four minutes. Fuck!

Your best time coming up the mountain is five minutes and forty seconds. You gotta find a way to shave off a whole minute. You’re usually lucky to beat your own time by maybe ten seconds.

You need this. You couldn’t be able to live down missing an opportunity like this. Your uncle was a stern man, so you knew he wouldn’t offer up any form of a second chance.

The first curve of the mountain pass was coming up, knowing the entirety of the mountain like the back of your hand. You gotta go faster. Slamming on the breaks, you whip the car into the curve making sure to keep on the inside. Slowly, pulsing the accelerator, you swiftly come through the curve while still maintaining your speed. A straightaway meets your eyes, your body slumping with relief. Your hand travels back and forth between the steering wheel and the shifter, the movement so quick you don’t even register it. At this point every aspect of being in this car was muscle memory. 

You and the car become one, tackling the uphill with a ferocity you’ve never experienced. It excited you, the pressure of the entire thing driving you forward. Your eyes shifted to the rearview, noticing a determined yet happy expression filling your face, despite the earliness of the morning.

You had butterflies everytime the inertia of the car would change, your eyes catching your watch as your hands gripped the wheel. One minute. You still had about a quarter of the mountain to climb. 

Don’t focus on the time, focus on the road. Once you’ve conquered the road, time won’t be an issue. Time to amp it up. 

You slam your food down, sending the accelerator to hug the floorboard. The gauge in front of you began climbing, your determination sending it to redline. With each new gear, you maxed out the rpm’s. Each turn brought you one step closer to your goal. You quickly forget about your watch, and your heart burns with the idea of finishing the uphill. Two more hairpin curves and you’d be finished. 

They approached quickly, making your heart clench with the thought of taking each turn. It wasn’t a nervous feeling, but one of a warrior headed into battle. The first turn came, keeping your car close to the inside, your back end flung out into a quick spiral up both curves. 

Coming out of the last turn, you notice a person standing under a streetlight. You recognized the lazy stance of your uncle, and came to a quick stop in front of him. He tossed the last of his coffee back and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He was laid back against his car, an AE-86, which to the normal eye, seems very underwhelming. However, with your uncle behind the wheel, it's a car that has been stopped by few. You noticed he had another coffee in his other hand, and wondered. Either he got no sleep last night and needed extra, or it might be for you.

You prayed it was for you. 

“You made it just in time,” he said, tilting his head, and there was an edge of approval beneath his stern facade. “Record time?” 

You grinned. “Just barely. I think I can shave off a few more seconds next time.”

Shota’s gaze hardened. “Next time won’t matter if you can’t keep your nerve today. Today is the real test," he said, his tone unyielding. "Get in my car."

Your stomach flipped, mixing excitement with dread. You slipped into the passenger seat, feeling the warmth of the leather against your skin, and adjusted your seatbelt with a swift tug. Shota slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine with a flick of his wrist. Carefully, you watched as he set the steaming cup of coffee into an awaiting cup holder. 

“Let’s see what you can handle,” he said, securing his grip on the steering wheel. A hint of challenge glinted in his eyes, and you felt your pulse quicken as the engine roared to life. Your eyes inspected the cup of coffee, sitting content in its spot. With the harshness of the road, you wondered what your uncle’s plan was. If it spilled, it would send scalding coffee all over your lap.

“Buckle up,” Shota commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

In an instant, the two of you shot forward, the car accelerating with a powerful thrust. As the landscape blurred past, the steering wheel felt like an extension of his will. Shota navigated the road with an unwavering focus, each turn a dance of precision and control. 

You leaned forward, gripping the dash, your eyes wide as the world outside dissolved into streaks of color.

 It felt like you were riding shotgun not just in his car, but also in the masterclass of what it meant to dominate the mountain. Shota navigated the twists and turns with an intimidating grace, his coffee cup remaining steady in the cup holder as you blazed down the path.

“Focus on the road, not me,” he replied, his voice steady as they near a tight corner, the tires screeching just enough to rattle your bones. 

You  narrowed your eyes at the road, willing yourself to let go of the tension coiling in your gut.

“Trust the car and your instincts,” he spoke up, not taking his gaze off the road. “Every ounce of pressure, every pull of the throttle—it’s all about understanding the machine beneath you. Feel its rhythm.” 

You nodded, trying to absorb his words as you approached a sweeping curve. You studied his movements, mimicking the way he shifted his weight, angling his body slightly toward the turn. You felt the adrenaline surge again, a determination igniting in your chest. 

“Do you really think I can get there?” you asked.

“Only if you stop second-guessing yourself,” Shota replied, flicking his eyes toward you for a brief moment. “Your mind is your worst enemy. Focus.”

You tightened your grip on the passenger seat as you transitioned through another sharp turn. 

“You think these roads care about your fear?” his tone was the same as if he stood in front of his students, lazily lecturing them. His entire body was relaxed, but you shifted your eyes back to the pavement. You didn’t want to be caught again. Riding with him was something you haven’t been able to experience since you were young, knowing nothing of the way these whips and turns filled you with burning emotions.

You held your breath as Shota accelerated into the next curve, the G-forces pressing you into the seat. “It’s either drive or be driven,” he added, his intensity vibrant, a spark igniting a fire in your chest.

The tight curve loomed ahead, the edge of the mountain a steep drop, and you felt your heart leap. 

Shota’s grip on the wheel tightened, and you mirrored his intensity. You focused on the line ahead, every instinct shouting at you to brace for the turn. As you approached the apex, every muscle in your body went tense, fear and excitement weaving together. Shota leaned into the turn, expertly guiding the car as it clung to the road. 

“Now!” he shouted, turning sharply into the curve, the tires screeching defiantly against the pavement. You felt the rush, the wild exhilaration of speed and freedom coursing through your veins. You swung into a series of rapid bends, the world outside morphing into nothing but a blur of greens and browns. The coffee tipped towards the paper edge of the cup, inching as if it might spill. But with a quick switch up, it leveled out, sitting contently along with you.

“Keep your eyes on the exit, not the curve!” Shota’s voice broke through your swirling thoughts, a commanding reminder tethering you to the reality of the race. 

He made his way back down the twists and turns of the Pass. He takes you back to your own car and passes off the cup of coffee. You cradled the cup in your hands, feeling the warmth seep through your fingers, grounding you. You looked at Shota, who stood beside you with arms crossed, eyes fixed on you intently, the hint of expectation shifting his expression. 

“Now, let’s see if you can manage this,” he said, the challenge ringing unmistakably in his voice. 

You looked down at the unspilled coffee, wondering how he could've even managed it? You glanced back at Shota, determination flooding your senses as you took a steadying breath. 

“So, you think this is all I have to do?”

“Just get behind the wheel and show what you’ve learned,” Shota replied, his gaze unwavering. “Your goal is simple: drive without spilling a drop. Focus isn’t just for the racing line; it’s for execution.” 

You took a deep breath, balancing the cup in your hand, the steam curling up in the cold mountain air. Your eyes stared at the little coffee cup as if it were a challenge sent from the gods themselves, daring you to rise to the occasion.

“Alright,” You said, your voice now steady with resolve. “Let’s see how this goes.”

You approached your Mazda, slipping into the driver’s seat and adjusting the rear view mirror, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead. Shota remained close, his imposing presence lending you a cautious boost of confidence.

“Keep it tight around the corners and maintain your speed,” he instructed, crossing his arms again, eyes glinting with challenge. “This is about control, not chaos.”

With a nod, you rolled your shoulders back and turned the key in the ignition, the familiar purr of your Mazda filling you with ease. You placed the coffee cup in the cup holder, its gentle warmth spreading through the air like a quiet promise. Taking a deep breath, you shifted into gear and moved forward, the engine humming softly beneath you.

“Don’t forget, the interview is coming up soon. Focus on the drive now, but remember the stakes.” 

You nodded, your grip on the steering wheel tightening as you pulled away from the clearing, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as you eased into motion. 

“Let’s do this,” you muttered under your breath, your heart thumping in sync with the rhythmic pulse of the engine. 

-.-

Everyday, you wake up early and take a trip down the mountain with your uncle. The process was the same every morning, before the sun showed its face you’d pull up to a waiting Aizawa. He’d hand you a coffee and the two of you would take a trip down the mountain. He’d follow you in his car, watching every movement you made. Being behind a driver can tell you a lot about them, this allows you to read your opponent like a book. 

The first day was horrendous, having to stop to clean up coffee from your floorboards after every run. 

Aizawa made sure you bring cleaning supplies on day two, because you definitely needed them again. 

It had been a month of running these roads, and the morning of the interview started like every other. You woke up early and made your way to an awaiting Shota at the top of the mountain. The sun barely crested over the mountain, casting a soft glow across the asphalt ahead. You leaned against your MX-5, your fingers tapping against the cool metal as you watched Shota finish his cup of coffee. 

"Ready to show what you’ve got?" Shota called, tilting his head toward you with a glint of challenge in his eyes.

You square your shoulders, the adrenaline already building.

 "Always," you shot back, sliding into the driver’s seat, your racing outfit hugging you with the familiar sense of purpose.

Shota smirked, walking towards his car. He placed the coffee in its spot by the passenger seat. “Today’s the day you prove everything the lessons have been leading up to. Let’s conquer that final turn.”

You turned the key, the familiar roar of the engine igniting a fire in your veins. 

 “Let’s make it count,” you replied, tightening your grip on the steering wheel.

As you sped off, the mountain loomed around the two of you, the winding road stretching like a challenge laid out in front of you. The fresh scent of pine and the cool bite of the early morning air jolted your senses as you ascended the narrow path. You focused on the road, recalling every piece of advice Shota had etched into your mind. You made it through the majority of the Pass without spilling the coffee, but you knew a certain hairpin curve was coming up. This curve twisted sharply, a notorious spot known for catching even the most skilled drivers off guard.

The curve emerged before you, a steel trap waiting to snap shut. You leaned slightly into the turn, letting your instincts guide you.

The asphalt shifted beneath your tires as you entered the curve, heart hammering in rhythm with the car’s roar. You let off the gas slightly, feeling the weight of the Mazda lean into the turn as the tires gripped the road. The coffee flew to the rim of the cup, tempting to find itself on your floorboard again. 

Not this time. 

With eyes locked on the exit, you remembered Shota's words—focus on the exit, not the entry. Your foot danced over the accelerator, allowing just the right amount of throttle to carry you through.

As you guided the car through the curve, adrenaline surged through your veins, and the world outside melted away. The trees blurred into streaks of green and brown, shadows flickering across the windshield like a haunting memory. For a heartbeat, all that existed was the road beneath your tires and the hum of the engine echoing your resolve.

Taking a peek through the rearview mirror, you noticed the turn was finally behind you. The coffee sat in its spot, completely full. 

Yes!

Finishing out, you and your uncle parked side by side. Taking a peek into your car, Shota took note of the full coffee cup. Shota leaned back, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“Nice work,” Shota said, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. He shifted in his seat, the remnants of his coffee still swaying gently in its cup. 

“Now for the real test,” he added, his eyes narrowing with consideration. "Your interview."

Your uncle informs you that the interview is at 3 today. He sluggishly gets back into his car mumbling something about getting some sleep. 

"Good luck, Y/N."

“Thanks, Shota,” you replied, your heart still racing. Anxiety and excitement bubbled within you, but for now, you focused on your final training run. 

He settled into the driver's seat of his own car, a familiar creak of worn leather slicing through the morning calm. His car roars to life, and sets off quickly. 

You had another important decision to worry about now. What were you going to wear? All you had back at the apartment was typical everyday clothes, and maybe a dress or two. You sat in your car, the engine still purring softly beneath you, as you wondered about your outfit. The road ahead seemed to mirror your internal turmoil—twisting and turning, the uncertainty reflecting the chaos in your mind. You could always ask Ochako and Momo for some help. You had plenty of time before your interview. 

Making your way back to the apartment, you're met with both people you need sitting on Momo's balcony sharing some tea. You parked your Mazda in a spot, its engine still purring softly as you stepped out. The smell of freshly brewed tea wafted from the balcony, pulling you in like an invisible thread. It was a nice change from the aroma of coffee. 

"Y/N! Come join us!" Ochako's bright voice caught your attention, and you gave a small chuckle.You walked towards the balcony, your nerves bubbling beneath the surface like the water in the kettle on the stove. Momo looked up, her smile warm and inviting. 

"How did the driving session go?” Momo asked, pouring a steaming cup before setting it down beside her.

“Perfect.” You shrugged, though your excitement bubbled in the corner of your eyes. “I managed to keep the coffee in the cup this time.” You bit your lip, a grin breaking through as you recounted the moment. 

"Yay! That's great!" Ochako's rosy cheeks scrunched with excitement. “Even though, I think that’s a very unique driving technique. Oh well! I’m sure it helps. What are your plans for today, Y/N?”

"Actually, I have a favor to ask. I need some clothes for this interview, do you think the two of you could help?" Momo exchanged an excited glance with Ochako, her eyes gleaming. 

“Absolutely! I have just the outfit in mind. We want to make sure you look confident and stylish.”

“Nothing too flashy, right?” you said, half-joking while rubbing your neck. 

“Mmm, being understated isn't really our style,” Ochako teased with a wink, bouncing in her wrought iron seat. You smirked, shaking your head. 

“I’m pretty sure confidence doesn’t mean neon pink and sequins.” 

Momo held up a finger, feigning deep thought. “It might just mean something that shouts ‘I’m here to dominate’ without blinding anyone.” 

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Okay, so what do you suggest? Something more subtle or something that doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard?"

Momo leaned back in her chair, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “How about a fitted blouse to accentuate your figure, paired with some high-waisted trousers? It’ll be sleek but not overly flashy.”

You nodded, your mind racing through the options. “That could work. "

Ochako slung the rest of her tea back, standing up and grabbing your arm. 

"I know just the place!"

Within thirty minutes you found yourself following after your friends, your heart racing with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The streets of Musutafu buzzed with early-morning energy, but your focus settled solely on the mission ahead—finding the perfect outfit. As you entered the small boutique, the door chimed softly, and a wave of warmth enveloped you. The scent of fresh fabric and the delicate notes of perfume tugged at your senses. After some rigorous searching, you found yourself trying on a sleek black blouse that hugged your torso with just the right amount of formality, paired with high-waisted trousers that flared slightly at the bottom, creating an effortless elegance. You twirled in front of the mirror, the fabric flowing around your legs with each movement. 

“What do you think?” You asked, your voice laced with uncertainty. They had picked out a pair of stilettos, but you eyed them warily from the corner. Momo and Ochako exchanged glances, a knowing twinkle in their eyes. 

“It’s perfect,” Momo affirmed, a bright smile lighting up her face. 

“But the heels?” you hesitated, eyeing the stilettos as if they might bite. 

Ochako laughed, a light melodic sound that eased the tension in your chest. “Trust us, you need them. They’ll give you that extra edge, that ‘I’m not just here to play’ vibe.”

You inhaled deeply, considering the heels. “I guess a little height never hurt. Alright, I’ll wear them.” 

Momo clapped her hands once, vibrating with excitement. “Perfect! Now let’s finish this look with some accessories.” 

Minutes later, you stood in front of the mirror, your reflection adorned with minimalistic silver earrings and a slender bracelet that caught the light just right. You turned slightly, admiring how the sunlight glinted off the delicate silver. 

“You look so good!!” Ochako beamed, adjusting the collar of the blouse as if adding the finishing touch. The three of you made your way to the check out and you went to change into the new outfit. Checking the time, you realize it's time to go. You hurriedly buttoned the blouse, the fabric smooth against your skin. As you slipped into the tailored trousers and finally secured the heels, your heartbeat quickened. 

“I really need to get moving,” you muttered, glancing at your reflection one last time. The clothes hugged your frame perfectly, the heels adding just the right height to give you confidence, but the clock had become your enemy.

“Let’s go, then!” Momo urged, her optimism bubbling as you all rushed down the street toward the parking lot. 

“Do you have everything?” Ochako asked, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and urgency. 

“Wallet, keys…,” you murmured as you rifled through your bag, double-checking the essentials while balancing on your heels. "Looks like I’m all set."

“Good. Now let’s see how you handle those heels in the parking lot,” Momo teased, grinning as she led the way.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. “I think I can manage a few steps without coming apart at the seams.”

You rushed off, the idea of city traffic looming over you like a dark cloud.

You quickly opened your car door, your heels clicking against the asphalt as you dropped into the driver's seat. 

The ride wasn't bad until that dark cloud came to fruition. The combination of traffic and the almost overwhelming anticipation of the interview gripped you as you navigated through the city. Cars crawled in front of you like a pack of slow-moving tortoises, and frustration gnawed at your patience. Each red light felt like a personal affront, stealing precious seconds from your time. 

“Come on! Move already!” you muttered, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, the rhythm syncing with your rising anxiety.

“Relax, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself, trying to regain some control over your spiraling thoughts. “Breathe.”

If you could just make it a couple more feet, you know a shortcut through the mountain pass. With a sudden jolt of determination, you spotted a break in traffic and made your move. You turned sharply, the wheels of the Mazda squealing in protest as you directed the car toward the road leading into the mountain pass. The familiar climb beckoned, a siren’s call amidst the chaotic urban sprawl you had just escaped. 

As the trees thickened and the asphalt stretched out in front of you like a ribbon unraveling from a gift, you felt the swell of freedom wash over you. The familiar curves of the mountain pass welcomed you like an old friend, the trees whispering secrets in the wind. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, the Mazda responding to your eagerness with a familiar purr. 

Catching the rearview, you noticed a car coming up behind you at a rapid pace. From the looks of it, it was an Evo III. A well known drift car. The sleek, gleaming body of the Evo III glinted as it surged forward, engine roaring like a beast eager to break free. You narrowed your eyes, determination settling in your chest as you shifted slightly in your seat, pouring your focus into the road ahead. 

“Great, just what I needed,” you muttered under your breath, your knuckles turning white against the steering wheel. The driver of the Evo III lurked closer, a challenge hanging in the air between you. You recognized the fierce competitive spirit in the other driver’s approach, a flicker of annoyance sparking within you. 

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” you murmured, determination flooding your veins.

As the Evo III pulled alongside you, revving his engine. Whoever it was kept the windows rolled up, not showing their face. So you decided to keep yours up too. Your heart raced in rhythm with the roar of the Evo III's engine, the familiar adrenaline igniting a fire within you. You could almost taste the challenge in the air, hot and electric but the intruding thought of your interview came crashing down. 

“Not now,” you hissed, your fingers tapping against the steering wheel. The Evo III revved again, a taunt echoing in the space between you as if the driver understood your internal conflict and thrived on it.

You clenched your jaw, determination pushing you forward. 

"This isn’t the time, but…" you inhaled deeply, your eyes narrowing as you shifted your foot onto the accelerator. The Mazda MX-5 surged into motion, the familiar weight of the car shooting you forward like a bullet leaving a chamber. 

The Evo III matched your pace, its engine growling defiantly as the two cars barreled down the mountain pass in tandem. The thrill of the race pulsed in your veins, igniting every fiber of your being. You glanced over at the driver in the Evo III, but the window remained tinted, concealing their identity. You pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the road that twisted like a serpent before you. You needed to finish this, and fast. The asphalt unfurled in a series of undulating curves, beckoning you to dance with the road. The rush of wind whisked past you, mingling with the roar of both engines as they flew through the first corner. The world outside became a blur of greens and browns, trees whipping by in a frenzied streak. 

“Let’s go!” you shouted, feeling the exhilaration spiral into a fierce focus as you leaned into the next curve, pressing the accelerator hard and feeling the tires grip the road. The Evo III’s driver responded in kind, maneuvering skillfully around the bend, a slight advantage giving him the edge as he surged forward.

You gritted your teeth, your determination boiling as the Evo III pulled slightly ahead. 

“Not today,” you grumbled, your foot pressing down harder. The Mazda MX-5 roared beneath you, responding to your urgency as you flung herself into the next turn.

“Focus!” you reminded yourself, aggravation starting to fill you. As the curve tightened, you felt the shift in weight, and you leaned into it, guiding your Mazda MX-5 with precision. 

“Just like Shota taught me,” you murmured. You powered through, trying to come up with a way to lose this guy. The Mazda MX-5’s engine sang, its growl resonating through your body as you aimed for the exit of the turn. Trees flanked the road like silent spectators, their branches swaying in the wind as if cheering you on. You kept your focus sharp, gripping the wheel with fierce determination. 

The Evo III drove ahead, but you spotted an opening. Leaning into the turn just enough, you swung around, gears clashing smoothly as adrenaline surged through you. 

“Now or never!” You felt the power of your car wrap around you like a living thing, commanding your every move as you swung onto the inside line of the corner, tires gripping the asphalt with an eager bite. The world outside blurred in a symphony of green as the Evo III's driver glanced over, surprise written across the unknown face behind the tinted glass. It was a fleeting moment, but it fueled your resolve. You pushed harder, feeling the sweet surge of acceleration lift your spirits as the gap between you and the Evo III grew. 

“Catch me if you can,” you taunted, your voice barely rising above the roar of the engines.

The curves melted into a blur, the Evo slowly disappearing from behind you. 

You kept on your path, the idea of the interview no longer seeming as daunting. You made it to the fancy looking building , its sleek facade shimmering in the midday sun. The MX-5 rolled to a smooth stop in the parking lot, your heart racing with exhilaration and nerves as you killed the engine. You took a deep breath, letting the buzz of adrenaline wash over you like a refreshing wave. You glanced down at your outfit—a sharp contrast to the casual attire you usually wore behind the wheel.

Carefully making your way up to the building's lobby, you straightened your outfit and put on an air of false confidence. 

Fake it till you make it.

-.-

A distant roar echoed through the streets as you pulled into the parking lot, your heart racing from the adrenaline of the interview and the thrill of the road. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the asphalt. 

About halfway through your interview, which wasn't even with your supposed new mentor, you realized you promised the crew you'd go watch some races tonight. The interview was strung out longer than you could've ever expected. 

So now you are racing through the streets to make it back to the pass, hoping to make it before they start the first race. The hum of the Mazda's engine throbbed beneath you as you navigated the winding roads. You leaned into the curves, every turn a reminder of the lessons etched into your brain by Uncle Shota. The bottom of the pass approached, and you rounded the last corner with a rush of excitement. As you emerged from the final bend, the scene unfolded before you like a vivid painting—cars lined up, lights flickering, and a crowd buzzing with anticipation. 

There seemed to be a crowd, all circled around two guys. A tall blond stood at the center, his expression fierce enough to intimidate even the boldest of racers. The glare in his eyes sparked a buzz among the onlookers, who gathered in a ring of excitement, whispering among themselves. With the arrival of your car, everyone's head whipped around. Including the set of angry vermillion eyes. 

Parking your car, you watched as a stressed Momo followed the blond brute who was fastly approaching you. 

Holding a muscled arm up, he pointed his index finger towards you. "You." 

You bristled at his rough voice, shutting your car door and standing on the uneven gravel beneath you.

"You think you can just stroll in here after racing my team and not face the consequences?" His voice cut through the noise like a knife, confidence oozing from every word.

You straightened, "...and who the fuck are you?" You matched his sharp words with some of your own.

He stepped closer, his breath warm and heavy with challenge. 

"Name's Katsuki Bakugo," he snapped, fists clenching. "You raced my boys earlier. You think you can just show off and walk away?”

Shoving a thumb back in the direction of his crew, he gestured to a tall redhead standing next to an Evo.

“Your little joyride at the pass?" His brow furrowed, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You smoked Kirishima, and now you think you can just waltz away without a rematch?”

Said Kirishima stepped forward, a sheepish grin on his face. “Hey, it was a good race! She's got skills, man. Don’t take it personally.”

Bakugo shoved a hand through his spiky hair. “Don’t you dare defend her, dumbass. If anyone’s taking this on the chin it’s gonna be me.” 

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “He lost fair and square. I’m not going to apologize for putting up a fight. I didn't think his daddy would come running to his defense." The crowd exploded in a mixture of gasps and laughter, each person eager for the drama to unfold. Bakugo's eyes ignited with rage, and the air crackled with tension.

“Watch who you’re calling daddy princess,” he snapped, stepping even closer so you could smell the metallic tang of his frustration. “You might end up in a situation your smart mouth can't handle."

The crowd shifted, sensing the brewing storm. You locked eyes with Bakugo, refusing to back down. 

“You think I’m scared of you? Bring it on.” The corner of Bakugo's mouth twitched, a smirk breaking through his intense glare. “You’re either brave or just plain stupid.”

“Maybe a little of both,” you shot back, your heart pounding in your chest. The thrill of the challenge surged through you. Bakugo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. 

“Fine, I’ll give you a rematch. But how about we do it right? A proper one-on-one. No tricks, just you and me on the line,” Bakugo proposed, his voice lower but dripping with challenge.

“Two races,” Kirishima cut in, his grin brightening as he nudged you. “Me against you, Y/N, and then Bakugo against Izuku. If we’re doing this, let’s do it properly,” he grinned, a spark of excitement evident in his voice.

The crowd buzzed with anticipation, eyes darting between you and Bakugo as the stakes grew higher. 

Bakugo growled at Kirishima's words, hearing a name that has brought him nothing but annoyance. "Fuckin' Deku."

“Then let’s put it to the test. You want a rematch?” You leaned forward, the heat of competition igniting your veins. “Let’s make it official.”

The crowd murmured, feeding into the tension. Bakugo’s lip curled into a smirk, a hint of excitement breaking through his otherwise stoic demeanor. 

“Looks like you’ve got some guts after all,” he replied, a challenge lacing his tone. The crowd shifted again, hearts racing in anticipation.

“Let’s see if you can actually back that up,” he taunted, his voice almost playful, but the intensity in his eyes was far from lighthearted. 

As the sun dipped lower, casting jagged shadows across the asphalt, you felt the weight of the mountain pass looming behind you. You steeled yourself, determination fueling your every thought. 

“Then let’s get this show on the road,” you said, confidence swirling within you as you slid back into your Mazda, the familiar roar of the engine igniting a fire in your chest. 

Momo stood off to the side, face pale as she watched Bakugo walk off. 

"What are you doing?! Are you seriously going to race him?" Momo's voice trembled, her eyes darting between you and the retreating figure of Bakugo. “You know who he is, right?”

"Yeah, I know. The King of Musutafu Pass," you replied, climbing back into your car and adjusting the rear view mirror. “And now, his crown’s on the line.” Momo stepped forward, urgency seeping into her voice. 

“You’re serious? What if he—”

“Don’t worry, Momo.” You interrupted, glancing at her with a smirk, feeling the adrenaline already pumping through your veins. “He may be good, but I’m not the same driver I was a month ago.”

Momo hesitated, biting her lip. “Just be careful, please,” she urged, concern etched in her features as she leaned closer, trying to gauge the strength of your resolve.

“Careful is my middle name,” you quipped, taking off to meet up with Kirishima at the top of the mountain. Momo gave a small chuckle at your words, knowing that it was the furthest from the truth. 

Shinso walked up, putting a hand on your elbow. 

“Hey, are you really going to take him on?” Shinso’s voice cut through the haze of excitement, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Of course,” you replied, a challenging smile stretching across your face. “You heard him—he wants a rematch. I can't back down now.”

Shinso's expression darkened, his tone serious. “He’s not just some brash racer; he's known for his temper and his skill. You could get seriously hurt.”

The weight of his concern settled in your chest, but you shrugged it off. “I’ve trained for this, and besides, Shota's been preparing me. I can handle it.” 

Shinso studied you for a moment, the tension in his brow easing slightly, though the worry still lingered in his eyes. 

Getting back into your car, he shut the door behind you. 

"I gotta go prepare the kid, he's probably shitting himself right now." He motioned towards Izuku, who was standing still as a statue as Momo filled him in. 

"Nice shoes by the way. I wanna see those later." With a wink, he's off in Izuku's direction. 

Putting the car into first gear, you show out and whip around the empty parking lot, the engine roaring to life beneath you. The metal vibrated with energy as you pulled onto the road, navigating the curves toward the mountain. The familiar route ignited memories of the countless hours spent training with Shota, every sharp turn a lesson learned, every straightaway a test of speed and control. As you wound your way up the mountain, the anticipation twisted in your stomach like a coiled spring, each corner pushing your focus to the limit. 

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, the smooth surface comforting under your palms. As you reached the top of the mountain pass, the flickering headlights of cars illuminated the gathering crowd. The atmosphere crackled with excitement, radiating from everyone who had come to witness the duel between you and Bakugo. You pulled into the designated spot, the roar of your engine fading into a low hum as you turned off the ignition. The crowd around you erupted into hushed whispers, their eyes darting towards your car as if you were the main event in a high-stakes show. You unbuckle your seatbelt, taking a moment to breathe in the cool mountain air, tinged with the faint scent of pine and fuel. Cool night air brushed against your face, refreshing amidst the rising tension. 

Kirishima bounded over, excitement bubbling in his expression.

 “You’re here! Bakugo can be a bit much. I'm sorry. The name's Kirishima, let's have a manly race, yeah?" His toothy grin was on full display.

You chuckled, the warmth of his enthusiasm cutting through the tension. “Yeah, let’s see if you can keep up this time, Kirishima.”

“Ha! You’re on!” His grin widened as he bounced on his heels, energy radiating off him like sunlight. 

A voice came crackling through a walkie talkie on Kirishima's hip.

"Bakugo and Deku are both ready." Kirishima turned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. 

“Looks like the show is about to begin!” He pumped his fist, a burst of energy that echoed in the mounting tension surrounding the race. Without a second to spare, the sounds of roaring motors can be heard all the way at the top. 

Unfortunately for Izuku, Bakugo's RX-7 was too much. From the constant reports coming through the walkie-talkie, it was clear that Bakugo had left Izuku in his dust, pulling ahead in a blaze of speed that rippled through the crowd's excitement.

The roar of Bakugo’s RX-7 echoed through the mountain pass, creating a symphony of adrenaline as the crowd erupted with cheers. His bright headlights rolled up to the two of you, coming to a stop mere inches from your legs. The engine purred ominously as Bakugo leaned out the window, his smug grin barely containing the competitive fire within.

Izuku came trailing in noot too much longer, stepping out with a solemn look on his face. His shoulders sagged as he approached, catching his breath. 

“I-I tried my best,” he managed, wiping sweat from his brow. “He’s really fast, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but you're getting better, Izuku," you assured him, a reassuring smile lifting the corners of your mouth. "Just keep practicing those techniques."

Bakugo snorted from his car, leaning further out of the window, his fierce gaze locking onto you. 

“As if that’ll help him. You think a few tricks are gonna save you when I beat you?” His voice dripped with disdain.

You had to beat Kirishima first, nerves beginning to bubble in your gut. Kirishima landed a strong pat to your back and headed towards his Evo.

It's time. You took a deep breath, forcing the nerves aside as you walked towards your Mazda. The gravel crushed underfoot, each step grounding you in reality. 

“Ready to make this a race to remember?” Kirishima asked, his voice light but laced with competitive spirit. He leaned against the side of his Evo, the engine still warm, gleaming under the fading light.

“Is this a race or a vacation?” You retorted, confidence surging as you climbed into your car. 

Kirishima chuckled, his grin widening. “I like your style. Let’s make this a race that’ll get everyone talking.”

You revved the engine, the familiar growl vibrating beneath you, matching the racing in your heart. “Just don’t cry when I smoke you at the finish line. Again.” You shot him a confident smirk, the thrill pulsing through you as adrenaline surged from within.

Kirishima leaned against his car, chuckling. “We’ll see about that. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve too." 

You nodded, the excitement building, the atmosphere electric as the crowd roared in approval, sensing the tension and anticipation in the air. 

With a final rev of your engine, you felt the vibrations resonate through your chest, the echo mingling with the excitement in your veins. 

Kirishima climbed into his Evo, settling into the driver's seat with a wide grin. He shot you a thumbs-up, the tension of competition transforming into an electrifying camaraderie. 

“Just remember, no backing down this time!” He shouted, his voice barely heard over the revving of engines and the cheers from the crowd.

You smirked, glancing back at him. “I wouldn't dream of it.” 

The countdown began, the crowd tumbling into excitement. Each second felt weighty, charged with the anticipation of the races to come. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, feeling the pulse of energy course through you. The crowd roared in unison, a wave of sound that pushed the adrenaline higher. 

"Three... two... one!" The shout broke through the chatter, and everything seemed to snap into focus as the countdown echoed through the air. 

You felt the familiar adrenaline surge, the world narrowing down to the moment at hand. 

"Go!" 

The roar of engines filled the air, drowning out everything but the pounding of your heart. You launched your Mazda forward, the tires screeching against the asphalt as you and Kirishima shot ahead. The crowd erupted into cheers, the sound bursting around you like fireworks, fueling your momentum. 

The engine roared to life, propelling you forward with a force that matched the racing pulse in your chest. You made your move, taking the first turn hard and low, feeling the shift of weight as the tires gripped the asphalt. The world blurred around you; only the road mattered, every twist and turn pulling you deeper into the thrill. An imaginary coffee cup kept your focus strong.

Kirishima drifted close behind, and the heat of competition fueled your drive. The Evo was a sleek beast, but you felt the Mazda respond to your every command, like a well-trained partner. You pushed the accelerator harder, feeling the car almost hum beneath you. The road curved sharply ahead, and instinct kicked in. You flicked the wheel just right, the rear tires skimming dangerously close to the edge as you hugged the corner tightly. The thrilling rush filled your veins, and you could hear the wild cheers of the crowd fading, replaced by the focused silence within the car.

Kirishima flashed into your peripheral, his Evo close but not close enough to break your comfort zone. You felt the rush of exhilaration blend with concentration, the essence of racing swirling within like a storm. Ahead, the road twisted and turned, serpentining through the mountains, each bend challenging both your skill and your willpower.

Kirishima pushed closer, shifting his weight as he tried to glide past you on the outside. You could see the determination in his expression, the fierce competition fuelling his every move. 

"Not today, Kirishima!" The words burst from your lips as you flicked the wheel hard, cutting into the turn. Your tires bit into the asphalt, finding the sweet spot of grip as you pulled away just enough to edge past him. The crowd erupted with cheers, their voices blending into a chorus of adrenaline that surged through you. You could feel the vibrations in your chest, each roar a testament to the stakes—one mistake could mean losing everything.

You fought against the rush of doubt creeping in, shoving it to the back of your mind. Focus. You knew the path; you had memorized every twist of the mountain pass, every hairpin turn etched into your memory from countless hours of practice. The world outside blurred, narrowing down to the road snaking ahead of you and the gentle hum of the engine. The sensation of the Mazda beneath you felt electric, each shift in weight translating into a thrill that threatened to consume you whole. You leaned into the next turn, the tires gripping the asphalt like a predator hunting its prey. 

The curve tightened, and adrenaline coursed through your veins, sharpening your focus. You could hear Kirishima's engine growl behind you, but the sound only ignited your resolve. 

The final stretch approached, and the crowd's cheers fueled your determination as the finish line loomed just ahead. You swung into the next corner, slamming the accelerator down to feel the engine roar in response. The asphalt blurred beneath you, a sliver of darkness edged with glowing lights illuminating the path to glory. 

The finish line neared, an invisible weight urging you forward, every muscle in your body screaming for you to push a little harder, a little faster. You locked your gaze on the non existent white flag fluttering in the distance, a beacon of victory just waiting to be claimed. The roar of the crowd blurred into a singular sound—a wave of energy that surged through you as you approached the finish line. Heart pounding, you threw yourself into the final corner, adrenaline and determination merging into a single, exhilarating force. The tires squealed as you leaned into the corner, the Mazda responding perfectly to your command. You glimpsed Kirishima’s Evo just behind you.

You leaned deeper into the turn, the g-force pressing you against the seat as you accelerated through the apex. The Mazda roared, a wild animal unleashed, and you grinned, fully embracing the thrill of the chase. The finish line beckoned, just a heartbeat away, and every ounce of your training surged through every fiber of your being. 

"Come on!" you yelled, the sound bursting from your lungs as you pushed the accelerator to its limit, every heartbeat synchronizing with the racing engine flickering beneath you. 

Your tires bounded over the finish line, dust flying in a cloud behind you as the crowd erupted into a thunderous applause. You crossed first, heart pounding, exhilaration coursing through your veins like wildfire. 

You pulled the Mazda to a stop just past the finish line, the engine rumbling to a gentle purr as the exhilaration of victory washed over you. The moment hung in the air, the thrill of the race still crackling around you. You took a deep breath, the world settling back into focus as the cheers from the crowd enveloped you like a warm embrace. You turned to see Kirishima pull up beside you, his expression a blend of disbelief and admiration. 

“Damn, Y/N! That was incredible!” His eyes sparkled as he jumped out of his Evo, a huge grin plastered across his face. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. 

“You weren’t half bad yourself, Kirishima. You put up a good fight.” You stepped out of the Mazda, feeling the energy of the crowd pulsing around you as they celebrated the race's outcome. 

Bakugo stood off to the side, anger swirling in his eyes. His fists trembled at his sides, the tension radiating from him palpable even from a distance. The crowd was buzzing, but his gaze was locked on you, unyielding and furious.

“Alright princess, my turn." He stepped forward, the crowd parting slightly, murmurs of excitement rippling through the onlookers as Bakugo made his way toward you. The air thickened with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing louder with his approach. You met his intense glare head-on, unflinching, as if to say you were ready for whatever came next. 

~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.~~~~~~~~~~

Your first race is won and under your belt! Congrats! Next chapter is one on one with our angry Pomeranian!

>di.in.al<3

[cosmal]

𝐔𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 — 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

summary — you come home upset, to a lovely james.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, she/her pronouns, sad!reader, hurt/comfort, very short! was really just projecting when I had a bad day the other day

word count — 790

James knows your usual routine when you get home. He’s tuned to every sound; can tell what you’re doing from the other side of your flat.

The clatter of your keys in the mosaic dish at the door, your shoes being kicked under the rack, usually with little care. If it’s cold, he’ll hear the ruffle of your coat being hung up or the shake of your umbrella outside.

If James is lucky, he’ll hear you humming a tune. Whether it be a song you listened to on your way home or an ad you watched this morning over your shared breakfast. Whatever it usually is, James loves it. Thinks it’s quite adorable in his own lovesick opinion.

Though when he hears the door open on this rainy, Tuesday afternoon, he hears none of that. If you hadn’t messaged him that you’d be home soon, he’d expect it to be an intruder.

If James listens closely enough, he’s sure he can hear sniffling. Wet and sad. He’s up from his spot at the kitchen counter immediately. Padding towards your room when he hears the door click shut behind you. He doesn't even hear you call out a Hello, James! So he knows something's wrong. Not that he'd ever expect much from you when you get home from work - it's just routine by now.

He knocks, followed by a light call of your name. He doesn't hear you respond, still, he opens up the door. He peeks around to find you sprawled across your shared, made bed, face down in the pillows. If he wasn't wearing his glasses, he wouldn't catch the slight shake of your back.

"Sweetheart?" he asks quietly, socks digging into the soft carpet as he makes his way over to the side of the bed, "You all right?"

"James," you murmur into the plush of your pillow, barely to be heard when you push your head further down.

The crack in your voice has the same effect on his heart, "What's up?"

When he finally sits down, right by your shoulders, you look up and he clocks your red and puffy eyes, the slight pout your lip gives, "James," you repeat just as sad as the last. Maybe worse.

"Hey," he coos, hand coming up to palm the corded muscle of your shoulder. Concern warps his features and he thinks if doesn't find out the source of your grievance in the next minute he might throw up.

You sit up a little, holding yourself up on a shaky arm, using your hand to cruelly wipe at your cheeks. Sniffling and hiccuping into your palm.

Frowning, James takes your hands into one of his and encourages you to sit up, using the other to stable you on your back.

You kick your feet out over the edge and bring your chin to your chest, "M'sorry." you clear your throat, trying to compose yourself, "Had an awful day."

"Oh, sweetheart," he coos sympathetically, helping you into his side when he wraps an arm over your shoulders. Giving you, what he hopes, is a reassuring squeeze.

"Horrible day," you affirm, pressing your nose into his chest. Your fingers tangle in his shirt, holding on tightly.

James presses his chin into the top of your head when he says, "Wanna talk about it?"

Your nose rubs over his pec when you shake your head, humming a no.

"Okay," James says, moving to kiss you over your hair. Agreement all mumbled.

Your shoulders tense less when he's kissing you more, though not relaxed enough in James' opinion. "Do I need to practice my right hook on anyone?''

"My boss," you laugh weakly.

James tenses, "Really?" He angles his head down to catch your face. The tears have stopped, but you still look awfully sad.

"No, you're punching skills are fine." There's the barest smile there, "We don't need a repeat of New Year's"

James chuckles knowingly, "Hey, in my defence-"

"He was a dickhead."

"He was a dickhead!"

"He was," you agree. He'd said something horrible about Remus, and James had punched him square in the jaw. He'd complained about his bruised knuckles for a week. You giggle at the memory.

"God, I love that," James groans.

"What?"

"That laugh." He squeezes you more until your face is closer to his.

You hide yourself in his shoulder, flushed face now only warm because James is a charmer. Not because you'd cried up a storm.

"Do you wanna have a shower?" James offers, stroking up the length of your back.

"Only if you're joining me." You look up and press your nose into his chin, over the scratch of his light stubble.

"That's expected now, lovely,"

You giggle, "How assuming of you, Potter."

[queenofbaws]

hi queenie i find myself humbly at your doorstep again (if there was a bowing emoji i would put it here) so question! do you outline your stories? and if so, how? another writer i admire was nice enough to lay out a "tutorial" of sorts but i have so much trouble with the small stuff. like i have so many Big Moments planned and tiny tiny moments planned but the medium moments? do you have any idea on how to plan the medium moments???? i'm going crazy! 😩

(as always, your answer is appreciated and cherished)

why hellooooooo quill!!! what a treat to find you on my doorstep! please know it is i who is bowing and scraping - it's always a delight to be visited by THE hawke/varric queen! ;)c

extremely long story short: i do outline my stories! i live in constant awe of people who can write by the seat of their pants. alas, like the humble ant, i am always digging out pathways to follow later...usually the pathways are intricate. maze-like. bottomless. 😫 hehehe but i know E X A C T L Y what you mean, finding ways to connect everything can be...so much, especially when all you really want to do is get to those big, juicy moments, AHHH!

i'll throw my general process under the cut, and i hope it'll help in some way/shape/form!!! 💖

OH FUCK, I THINK I HAVE A FIC IDEA an outlining process by theicyqueen

hehehe okay, so as always, this is my general process, and what works for me might not work for others, so by all means take EVERY LAST THING I SAY with a boulder-sized grain of salt ;P

for the most part, my outlining process for oneshots and multichaps is roughly the same: (1) i get a central idea i want to expand on, (2) i write that fucker down in as much detail as possible, (3) i sit squinting at it like that kate beaton comic with edgar allan poe for a week or two waiting for a divine vision to hit, (4) profit. in all seriousness, though, this is typically my order of operations:

get the main idea down: this could be an overarching idea for a story (e.g., hawke and varric attend a fancy party and a murder mystery occurs) OR a big, juicy influential scene (e.g., incensed at hubert being an asshole, varric hurls a pillow at him and uncovers a secret door hidden in the wall!)

think about where you want to go from there: do you want this to be a oneshot? a multichap? how much MORE do you want to add to that main idea, essentially, or how far do you think you can stretch it?

get the biggest scenes down first: you know the ones. the ones you REALLY want to get to. write them down NOW. just trust me on this. WRITE THEM DOWN RIGHT NOW I STG!!!

if there are little scenes in your head, get those down too: don't worry about getting them down IN ORDER, just get them down! you think you'll remember them later: you will not. i love you. you will not remember them later. you're so smart. you will not. remember. them later. this is the writer's curse.

put those scenes into some sort of skeleton: here's where you start thinking about the order you want scenes in. where do you want those big, juicy things? where will your smaller moments fit in between them? what KEY POINTS need to occur before juicy scene b so it makes sense to the reader? what KEY POINTS will have to come AFTER juicy scene b to make sense? if you don't quite know where to put something yet, keep it separated, either in a separate doc, or just off to the side; don't touch it again until you have an idea of where it should go chronologically

look at what you have so far: sometimes, if you're lucky, the way to connect these pieces together will become apparent once you see what you already have laid out in one place. life is beautiful when this happens, but it doesn't always, so don't beat yourself up if you just CAN'T figure out how to get from point a to point h - let it sit. let it simmer. let it STEW. maybe eat some stew. it can't hurt.

consider the evil bits >:)c : what this means FOR ME is usually foreshadowing. is there some big twist you want to drop breadcrumbs for throughout the rest of the story? think about what that might look like! if you decide, for example, that you want to reveal a character was evil the whole time by the end of the story, think about what little nugget of foreshadowing you could insert sneakily into the beginning - a lot of the time tiny, almost insignificant details like this can help trigger bigger scenes in your head, "connecty" scenes, if you will. other examples of "evil bits," might be winks to canon material, easter eggs referring to other works of yours (or a friend's!), wordbuilding info that doesn't fit anywhere else, or not-so-subtle inclusions of your own headcanons that you have no earthly reason to include other than to make yourself smile (for example, in the project i'm working on right now, i'm making it a point to have travis hackett smell a girl's hair against her will! this is not a necessary detail by any means, but god help me my characterization of that freak will be known 🙃). it sounds fake, but seriously, sometimes the tiniest details can help you connect things later. the human brain is inscrutable.

determine whether you NEED to fill every gap: if you can't think of a way connect two scenes no matter how hard you try, it's ENTIRELY possible that they just don't need to be connected. at all. the reader doesn't always need to see characters move from one classroom to another, and we don't always need to see their skincare routine before they go to bed. those might be important scenes to include for what you're writing, don't get me wrong, but if they're not??? just...just skip 'em. DON'T connect the scene before and the scene after. if you're writing a oneshot, ask yourself: could i put a line break in here and just keep going? and if you're writing a multichap, the question is similar: can i just end the chapter here and pick up with the next one? sometimes you just don't NEED a medium-sized scene at all. just skip it!!!!!

talk to a friend who has no idea what any of this means: i'm. i'm so serious. if you're writing fandom stuff, please ask a friend with little to no knowledge of that fandom if you can talk at them about your story for a minute. if you're writing something original, please ask literally any friend at all if you can talk at them about your story for a minute. you will be. shocked. the words that come out of your mouth once you start doing this. shocked. sometimes there's stuff up in your brain you didn't even know was up there. i can't recommend it highly enough asldkjflakdjf

when in doubt, consider a humble "blanket paragraph:" i feel like...i feel like a lot of us...who got into creative writing...and who took creative writing classes...came to hate the simple blanket statement. but we shouldn't. we should love it. sometimes you don't need a scene at all - sometimes all you need is, "and then they ate dinner and watched some movies before bed." that's it. that can be your link. it can. i promise. i promise.

i really, truly hope that helps you in some way! or, if nothing else, kickstarts something in your own way of planning 💜

what a hobby we chose, huh? what a hobby. :P

[agoddamnbeautifulidiot]

Flicker of Hope

Epilogue Two: Madison Square Garden – Night Two

A/N:

Here is it. The final part of FOH…well unless I eventually feel like writing anything else lol. Who knows what else @harrywavycurly or anyone else might inspire from me for these two.

Note that I do play around with the timeline of Niall and Hailee’s relationship to benefit this story. Here, they only see each other from January 2018 to sometime in July 2018.

Also, we’re circling back around to death in this and there will be discussion of depression, slight unintentional ED, so bear that in mind.

Big, HUGE thanks to everyone who has read this series and spent years asking me when there would be more. You’re the real ones.

And big thanks to Niall for just being Niall. Wouldn’t have been able to write this without his beautiful music.

Alright, enough sappiness from me, here’s some more from our favorite couple. And maybe some spice. You never know with me.

-----------

You’re just coming out of the bathroom when Niall’s alarm goes off. He groans loudly and you giggle as you watch him roll over to smack his phone. The sheets are tangled in his legs and pulled taut around his hips. Flopped on his stomach, he shoves his arms under a pillow and smashes it against his face.

Smiling, you walk over to the bed, climbing on it by his feet. Crawling over him, you settle over his covered thighs and sit down. Niall grunts, turning his head just slightly. One blue eye peeks back at you and you laugh, leaning forward to press a kiss to his bare shoulder.

He hums. “Good mornin’.” His voice is rough from sleep and singing last night.

“Morning,” you say. You sit back, bouncing slightly on the tops of his thighs, making him grunt again. Grinning, you bounce one more time before climbing to the side and off of him. You move to crawl off the bed, but Niall’s hand grips the end of your robe and pulls until you fall into his side. You're laughing as you roll over and snuggle into him. “Something you wanted, my dear?” He opens his eye again, looking disgruntled with his hair tousled. His arm wraps around you, smashing your face into the pillow, making you laugh again. You run your hand over his back, scratching lightly.

Niall finally rolls more fully towards you, both eyes open. He yawns, jaw clicking with the force of it before he leans forward and nuzzles his nose against yours. You offer him a closed mouth kiss and your hand moves into his hair, attempting to smooth out the chaotic strands. “You showered.” He says, rubbing his nose on your cheek.

“I did.”

“I wanted ta shower wit ya.” He pouts and it’s ridiculous how adorable you find this man.

Massaging his scalp, you offer him another kiss. “I’m sorry, honey. I had a call this morning so I got up early to do that and then figured I’d go ahead and shower. I will remind you though, we did shower together last night.”

He just stares at you, continuing to look so adorably and sleepily disgruntled. “Is dere a rule against showerin’ together two times in a row dat I don’ know about?”

“No, you dork,” He grins when you roll your eyes. Ignoring his face, you pull away, finally managing to crawl back off the bed as he reaches for you. “I was gonna order some breakfast. You want anything?”

Niall adjusts, sitting up against the pillows, still grinning at you. Most of the covers are bunched up at the end of the bed, so he fixes the sheet until it’s mostly covering his legs. “Guess I’m lucky me alarm went off. Knowing you, you would’ve had a whole feast without me.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic.” You start going through your suitcase, trying to pull a suitable option for the start of the day. “I was coming to wake you up anyways.”

“Cause you're hungry.”

“Cause I’m starving, Niall.” He laughs when you whine, pulling a sad face at him. “I’ve been up for hours and all I’ve had was a pack of airline nuts that I literally have no idea when they’re from and some really bad tea from the coffee bar.”

“Where did you find peanuts?”

You throw your robe onto the chair and pull on some shorts and a shirt. “They were in one of the side pockets on your suitcase.” When you look up at Niall, his eyebrows are raised. “What? I told you I was hungry.”

He shakes his head, tossing the sheet off his legs to get out of the bed. “Those could literally be years old, babe. Can’t remember da last time I got nuts on an airplane.” Brow furrowed, you just stare at him for a moment. He huffs out a laugh and leans over to kiss you on the forehead as he walks by. “‘M gonna jump in the shower. Order me like a full spread and some coffee, please.”

You stand there for a full minute, just thinking about those peanuts. “Gross.”

——————

It’s not the most comfortable, but you’ve somehow managed to sprawl across several floor seats as you listen to sound check. The seats are hard and there are several legs digging into your side and thigh, but you’re content to just lay there and listen to Niall and the band play.

Eyes closed, you hum along as the opening bars of “Mirrors” starts. You remember the videos you were tagged in over and over all those years ago when you’d have to leave Niall behind in Tokyo to deal with the loss of your dad. Thinking back now, it had felt like you were leaving half your soul behind. Because honestly, you had.

Other than all the nonsense with Robbie and the subsequent falling out the two of you had had, the lingering effects of your dad’s death had been the most difficult part of your relationship. Not because any part of it had come between you, but all of it had put you under so much stress and Niall had felt absolutely helpless.

The worst part of all of it had been what happened with your sister Charlie. Despite the fact that it had been what had finally reconnected you and Niall.

Your eyes are starting to blur from how long you’ve been staring at your computer screen. It’s almost dark in your apartment, which should tell you to get up, turn on a light and find something to have for dinner. But this is easier. Sitting on your couch, working. The same thing you’ve been doing for months.

It had been months since you’d spoken to Niall. Since the end of January really. Back when Tara had let it slip that the rumors about him and Hailee were true. You just couldn’t bear to reach out to him. Not that he was reaching out to you. Your text conversation had been relegated to the bottom of your messages app, something that cut at you any time you thought about it.

Your eyes flicker down to the date on your screen. 8/19/2018. Red Rocks. Niall, someone who you once called your best friend, was playing Red Rocks tomorrow and you weren’t going to be there. Groaning, you rub your hands over your face, finally leaning over to flick on the lamp on the side table. Setting your laptop to the side, you stand up and stretch, rolling your shoulders. You head into the kitchen, wondering if there’s any actual food to find.

“Pathetic,” you mutter, opening doors to barren cabinets. “You have no food, your whole body hurts and you’re thinking about a guy who probably isn’t sparing you a single thought as he has the best time of his life. Utterly pathetic.” You pull out your phone and see what you can get delivered. It’s later than you thought, but thankfully there are still a few things open in London.

Food ordered, you head back into the living room, walking around the room a few times to avoid sitting back in your chair. You’re dazedly staring out the gap in your curtains when your phone rings loudly in the silence.

“Hey, Josh,” you greet your brother in law.

Josh sighs, “Hey, kid.” He sounds tired and your brow furrows.

“Is everything ok?”

He chuckles at that, but they’re sad sounds, almost like he’s holding in tears. “No, no, everything is not ok.”

You can’t help it, you practically drop down into your chair, stomach sinking with dread. “What’s going on?”

“She did it, Y/N,” He says. “Charlie filed for divorce.”

It’s like the world stops spinning around you for a second and when it starts up again, you’re dizzy. “What the fuck? What are you talking about?”

Josh laughs again, and this time the sound is truly wet with tears. “She came home today and told me. And then she packed all of her stuff and moved out.”

“Josh.” It’s all you can say for a minute. Your brain tries to catch up with what he’s saying. “But, she…she’s been going to therapy. You’ve been going to therapy. I thought everything was getting better?”

“Yeah, I did too.” He scoffs. “I don’t know what happened. Yesterday, everything seemed ok and then today…” Be trails off and you can’t do anything but stare sadly at your worn out bunny slippers. “There’s more.”

You take in a deep breath, trying to hold in your panicked laughter. “What more could there possibly be?”

“Well, we were waiting to tell everyone, but at this point, we need to.” Josh pauses again and you can hear him breathing deeply over the line. “She’s pregnant.”

Gasping, you stand up, pacing around your coffee table. “Pregnant?! What the fuck? What…and she…Josh…” You don’t even know what to say. Everything he’s telling you is making you feel like you’re in an alternate reality.

“Yeah, and I tried to bring that up, you know? Like how are we getting divorced when we’ve got a kid on the way? But she, she doesn’t want to be with me anymore, Y/N.” His voice breaks and you feel tears coming on. “And I’m not going to make all of us miserable if we’d be happier apart.”

“What are you guys going to do?”

Josh sighs. “We’re going to figure it out. We’re having a kid and getting divorced. It’s not going to be easy, but we’re going to get through it.”

You try to think happy thoughts for him, even though you know all of this is killing him. “You’re going to be the best dad, Josh.”

That makes him chuckle, and it’s still wet with tears but you know he’s smiling. “Thanks, kid. You’re going to be the best aunt.”

The two of you talk for a few more minutes until your door buzzer goes off, signaling the arrival of your dinner. You grab your food, placing the bag on the coffee table and sitting back in your chair.

Staring at the bag, you can’t seem to force yourself to open it. Your stomach growls loudly, but you don’t even hear or feel it. Josh and Charlie breaking up and having a baby? How do you reconcile that? After everything else that’s happened this year?

Your phone lights up and you grab it to check it. It’s the notification from Niall posting on instagram and there’s something about this moment that feels like a sign. Opening up your messenger app, you scroll down and hesitate over his name for just a second before clicking the chat open and beginning to type.

Something nudged your foot and you frown, readjusting. The band has stopped playing, but you can hear them messing around from where you’re laying. You feel a shove on your foot again and you open your eyes, gasping and sitting up.

“Oh my god!” You squeal and throw yourself into your brother’s arms. “Arthur! Mom! Nate!” You hug each of them in turn. “Josh!” He hugs you tight and you both laugh when little hands try to tug you apart. Looking down, you laugh at the face your niece is making. “And is that my Lucy Goosey?” She smiles and preens, dancing in place the way only a five year old can. You lean down and scoop her up, propping her on your hip.

Lucy looks around, eyes big as she takes everything in. “Look!” She points at the stage and you nod.

“Yeah! That’s the stage.” You can see the band starting to wind down and Niall has his back to all of you as he talks with several people. “Do you know who that is?” You point at his back, giving her a chance to squint her eyes and shake her head. Leaning in, you whisper in her ear. “That’s Uncle Ni-Ni.”

Her eyes light up and she gasps and shouts. “Uncle Ni-Ni!”

On the stage, he turns and pretends to search the arena before he finds her and he jumps up and down a few times. “Luce!!” He shouts and comes running down the stage. Lucy giggles and bounces on your hip as he gets closer. “Well if it isn’t my best gal Lucy.” Niall shoots you a wink as he reaches the end of the catwalk. “Hello everyone!” He greets your family and they all respond.

Lucy continues to bounce, reaching for him on the stage. You meet his eyes and he nods as he leans down, so you walk over to the barrier and hand her to him. Once he’s got her on stage, he starts walking around, telling her all about the arena and what the show is going to be like.

“It’s just so amazing he’s playing here.” Arthur says, looking around the giant room. Him, Nate and Josh start talking about how many people can fit inside the room, looking thoughtful in a way only guys can about something you could easily google.

Your mom rolls her eyes at them, coming to put her arm around you as you watch Niall. “How you been, honey?” She asks.

Laughing, you wrap your arm around her. “Mom, we spoke two days ago. Not much has changed.” She just shrugs and smiles at you.

“Yeah but now you’re in New York and your boyfriend is playing this big arena. It’s so exciting, I just thought I’d check in.”

You eye her curiously for a moment, but she just continues to smile, turning her glance to Niall and Lucy. Glancing back and your brother and step dad, you lean into her, whispering, “Charlie didn’t want to come?”

Her smile goes a little thin as she meets your eyes and simply shakes her head. Nodding, you take a deep breath and count to five, eyes focused on the edge of the stage. Your mom tightens her arm around you. “Charlie,” she sighs. “Well, she’s still figuring it out, sweetheart. I told her it wasn’t fair to you, this silent treatment, but she’s as stubborn as they come.”

You focus back on Niall, who’s listening to Lucy babble in his ear, but is watching you intently. You paste on a smile, because all of this is for him. Niall is what matters right now. “At least she let Lucy come.”

“Oh, wild horses couldn’t have kept Lucy Goosey from her favorite Aunt and her Uncle Ni-Ni.” You laugh at that and notice the tension ease just slightly out of Niall’s body. “Now, how about we all get some lunch?”

————————

After lunch, you and Niall head back to your hotel to change and have a little bit of time to yourselves before the show.

Niall lays down on the couch immediately, shoving his hat off and just closing his eyes. You plop down in the chair, pulling off your sneakers and socks. Brow furrowed, you stare at the blank tv screen.

“Can hear ya tinkin’, love,” Niall mumbles, eyes still closed.

You’d roll your eyes if it wasn’t so endearing how well he knew you. “It’s nothing.” You murmur. Lifting his head up, Niall opens both eyes to look at you. You stare at each other for a minute and your leg starts to bounce. He refuses to relent, only lifting a brow at you. You do actually roll your eyes this time, slumping further down into the chair. “I’m just thinking about my family.”

He nods, relaxing back into the couch, still watching you. “It’s nice they’re here.”

“It is. I’m really happy they came. I just wish…”

“You just wish Charlie were here?” He guesses.

Nodding meekly, you play with the frayed edges of your shirt. “Or that she’d talk to me, you know?”

With a deep sigh, Niall pulls himself off the couch and leans on the arm of the chair, his hand rubbing soothingly on the back of your neck. “I know, love. But Charlie is gonna do her own ting and it’s honestly better that she isn’t here if she’s not ready.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, leaning your head on his hip. “It just sucks.”

“It does.” He agrees.

The two of you sit there quietly for a few more minutes. Finally, you lean back and look up at him, your hand gripping his calf. “You should go take a nap. Recharge your batteries for tonight. Can’t have a tired pop star on stage.”

He smiles at you, eyes crinkling in the way that makes your heart hurt. “You wanna nap wit me?”

“I think I’m gonna go for a walk. Grab some more coffee. I can bring you back something if you want?”

Eyeing you for a moment, he nods and leans down to kiss your forehead. “Just do me a favor, take someone wit ya, ok?” When he pulls back, his eyes are mischievous.

You chuckle, pulling away to stand up so you can step between his legs and wrap your arms around his neck. “I got lost one time, Niall James. One time!”

“One time too many for me.” He responds, hands on your back as he pulls you closer for a thorough kiss.

——————

Your walk turns into just going down to the hotel cafe. You order an iced coffee and find a cozy space to sit and just watch the city moving outside the windows. It’s probably dangerous for you to be so alone with your thoughts, but you’d rather be here than feeling like you’re bringing Niall down with your mood.

As the city bustles by, you think about the last time you and Charlie had really talked.

“Ok, but you have to give us some space here, Horan.” You say, hands on your hips in Niall’s closet. “I’m going to be here for the whole summer, I want to put my clothes away.”

Niall stands in front of a set of drawers, arms crossed. “Ya have some space babe. I gave you a whole section right dere.” He points and you scoff.

“Niall, I have three suitcases of stuff. That five inches of space is not going to be enough.”

He rolls his eyes and glares at the bags in question like they’ve offended him. “Don’t know why you brought so much stuff. Not gonna be wearing a lot this summer if I have anyting ya say about it.”

“Oh my god!” You laugh, annoyed at the smirk on his face. “Niall James, just make some more room or I’ll do it myself and I won’t be neat about it.” The two of you stare at each other for a minute before he rolls his eyes and relents.

“Fine. I’ll take some of this stuff down to a guest room for now. Still tink you brought too much.” He grabs another small section, huffing and grabbing a bit more at your pointed look before he sticks out his tongue at you and leaves the room.

Feeling triumphant, you start going through your clothes, hanging some items and folding others for the drawer he so graciously cleared out.

“What is he gonna do if we ever move in together?” You mutter to yourself. Your head whips up, just to confirm he hasn’t heard you before you continue. You and Niall had been official for almost five months, so you weren’t out here trying to put any pressure on.

You’ve just unzipped your second case when your phone rings and you grab it, answering without checking the ID and putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey sis.”

Charlie’s voice stops you cold. The two of you have had very little interaction since she’d decided to divorce Josh. Mostly on Charlie’s side as you’d done quite a bit of reaching out. From what your mom had told you, your sister was convinced pretty much everyone had taken Josh’s side in everything and there was no point in talking further on it. As if that would be the only reason you wanted to talk to her. You quickly check the date, noting you’ve still got a week before her projected due date.

“Hey,” you say, trying not to sound hesitant. “How are you?”

Charlie sighs. “Very pregnant.” You both chuckle softly at that and you’re happy you can still have a moment like that with her.

“I bet. How is my little niece to be?” You ask, quietly going back to unpacking.

“You’re so convinced it’s gonna be a girl?” She asks.

You shrug and then remember she can’t see you. “I don’t know why. I just feel like you’re baking a girl in there.” Charlie laughs a bit at that. “Niall’s convinced it’s a boy, though I’m not sure why, he just says it’s his intuition, although I’m not sure where he thinks he gets this intuition from.” Charlie doesn’t respond and you check the phone to make sure she’s still there. “Char?”

“So,” she says haughtily. “The Niall thing is still happening huh?”

It’s a good thing she can’t see you with the incredulous look you give the phone. “The Niall thing? What does that even mean?”

She groans in annoyance. “You’re still like trying to make it with him or whatever?”

“I mean I’m in a relationship with him, so I guess you can say it like that if you want.”

“Ok,” Charlie scoffs and you know your face shows your annoyance. “But how long do you really think your ‘relationship’ is actually going to last, huh?” The way she says it makes you feel gross, like this thing that is exponentially important to you is just some piece of garbage she found on the side of the road.

Several hangers click together loudly when you shove a dress on the rack. “What the fuck does that mean, Charlie? Are you like rooting for my relationship to fail?”

“I am just being realistic here, sis,” she counters and it’s your turn to scoff. “You’ve been friends how long and it took all this drama and nonsense for him to come to his senses? Be for real.”

“And you know what about my relationship, Charlie? When is the last time you actually asked me something about myself or how I’m doing?” You’re mad now, practically flinging clothes into your drawer.

“I’d say I know more than you considering I’ve been married and it didn’t take a stupid scandal and another woman for Josh to see he wanted me.”

Everything stops and you just stand there for a minute, breathing deep with your back to the phone. “An expert on marriage but you’re getting divorced?” Your tone is biting and you mean it to be. The two of you have always fought fire with fire.

She’s breathing heavily over the phone now and a small part of you worries about her stress, but you refuse to be bulldozed by her. “You don’t know shit about my life and my situation, Y/N. But have fun with your little pop star fling and when he finally decides he’s really done with you, don’t come crawling to me for sympathy.”

You don’t need to check the phone to know she’s ended the call. You stay there, staring into a messy drawer full of items you’re going to have to refold and taking deep breaths. How does every conversation with your sister go so left so quickly these days?

“Well, I see what Josh was talkin’ ‘bout,” Niall’s voice startles you and you whip around to find him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face.

Your hand comes up to your chest, heart racing. “God, Niall, announce yourself or something. I’m gonna have to get you a freaking bell this summer.”

He just shrugs and gives you a tight lipped smile. “Sorry, darlin’.”

Going back to the drawer, you glare at the mess you made. Suddenly, you turn and look at him. “Wait, what did you mean ‘what Josh was talking about’? When did you talk to Josh?”

“Yesterday.”

He ignores your questioning stare and you huff in annoyance turning back to your drawer. “Since when are you and Josh all buddy-buddy? What do the two of you even have to talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” His reply is just sarcastic enough that it pushes you closer to the edge you know you're teetering towards. “There’s dis one person we both love dat I’m pretty sure we could bond over. I’ve also known Josh almost as long as ‘ve known you, if ya care to remember dat.”

You press your fingers over your eyes, mentally willing this petty argument away, but knowing you’re too wound up to stop. “Fine, whatever. So you and Josh talk about me and talk about Charlie and do what? Compare and contrast?”

Niall’s face twists in confusion. “What?”

“You know, comparing experiences, trying to figure out if I’m going to turn out like her.”

“Dat is not what’s happenin’.”

You’re ignoring him at this point. “If you’re that worried about it—“

He groans. “What are ya on about?”

“I can just go.” You say, fully turning back to face him. Niall looks…dumbfounded. But this, this is what’s been eating at you and Charlie’s phone call has just finally caused the word vomit. You’re shaking, desperately trying to hold everything else in, every bad thought you’ve had, all the tears you want to cry, as he just stares at you.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and steps towards you. One hand reaches out to you and you jerk slightly as he grips your hand and pulls you towards him. His other hand cups your neck, fingers brushing softly into your hair. With a shaky sigh, you lean forward and bury your face in his neck, circling your arms around him, gripping tightly. His other hand rubs the small of your back and you both relax into each other.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry Niall.” You mutter into his neck, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“I know, love. It’s alright. Gonna take some gettin’ used to, all of dis. Everyting with Charlie and Josh and being an us, ya know?” His breath ruffles your hair. “We’re not gonna do dis though. No more fightin’. Not over shit like dis. We’ll talk to each other. And, hey, look at me,” he pulls back just enough, meeting your eyes, hands on either side of your face. “You’re not goin’ anywhere. I want ya here.” You nod. “And you’ll talk to your therapist ‘bout dis, yeah?”

You giggle a bit, sniffling. “Yeah, I promise.”

Niall nods and leans forwards, lips meeting yours sweet and slow. He pulls back slightly and presses a few wet kisses into your cheek and neck before huffing. “Now, you’ve made a right proper mess of dis drawer, so let’s get dat taken care of.” His words have the desired effect and you laugh against his shoulder.

The vibration of your phone brings you back to the present and you’re shocked that you’ve been sitting in the cafe for almost two hours. Checking your notifications, you notice a few texts from Niall.

Opening them, you chuckle at the ridiculously rumpled, grumpy faced bed head selfie he’s sent you and read his message:

Pre show nap: 🤘

Waking up with no girlfriend to

cuddle: 😣

Well it’s a good thing your girlfriend

is about to be on her way upstairs to

remedy that for you

You want me to bring you a tea or

anything?

No thank you love, I’ll get one

when we leave for the show. All

I want right now is you in my

bed

Aye, aye captain

Oh babe, you know what that kind

of talk does to me 😉

💋

Niall looks up from the bed when you come through the main door, back against the headboard with his shirt off and the covers bunched at his waist. He smiles. “Der she is.”

“I am at your service, my good sir.” You say, dropping your stuff on the side table and sitting on the bed.

“Ooh, first I was captain, now I’m sir?” Niall jokes, tugging on your arm until you're straddling him. “Damn I’m a lucky guy.”

You laugh, burying your hands in his hair and mussing it further. “You really are, Horan.” He just smiles up at you, hands stroking your thighs. “We need to pack, don't we?” Niall grimaces and nods at you. With a groan, you pull away, struggling slightly as Niall tries to keep you on top of him.

“I wanted cuddles!” He whines, arms circling you, holding you tight while his head rests on your chest.

“I promise you can have all the cuddles you wanted after the show, on the bus.” Grabbing his head, you attempt to pull him up, yelping when he refuses to be moved and his teeth nip at the skin of your chest. The two of you wrestle with each other for a few moments and you’re both laughing when you finally manage to roll to the end of the bed. “Come on babe. Let’s get this done so you can go be a big superstar and play yet another sold out show at Madison Square Garden.” He continues to pout at you, and you check the time on your phone with an eye roll. “Alright,” you climb back over him. “Thirty more minutes and then we have to get up, Niall James.”

Smiling widely at you, he nods and his arms wind around you again. “Dat’s plenty of time, darlin’.” And then you’re squealing as he lifts you, shoving you back on the bed so he can crawl over you, his mouth meeting yours.

——————

There haven’t been a lot of times that you’ve been in the audience for one of Niall’s shows. Your preference has always been being backstage, but with your family here, you end up in the suite that had been set aside. It’s a good time, hanging out with Niall’s family and friends and watching them interact with yours.

Nate, Josh and Mully seem to be talking about golf and Arthur is bonding with Deo of all people which would make you nervous if your brother wasn’t so very level headed.

Your mom and Lucy are up towards the front of the suite, dancing to the music playing as the arena waits for Niall to take the stage. Checking your phone, you note that he should be coming out within the next ten minutes and you feel a little antsy not getting to be back there with him as he goes on.

Mully must sense your weirdness because he comes over, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “Ya alright love?” He asks, smiling at you.

“I am.” You say, smiling at him.

“Bet ya wish you were back der with him, huh? Instead of out here with us lot.” That makes you laugh and Mully squeezes you with a smile on his face.

“Not gonna lie,” you reply. “I do like being back there with him. But this view isn’t so bad.”

He takes a few sips of his beer, gazing out at the arena. “Yeah it really isn’t so bad, huh?” The both of you grin, sharing a moment of pride for Niall before Mully does what he does best. “But you’ll be glad once lover boy is out here, shakin’ it for ya.”

He laughs and almost spills some of his beer when you shove at it. “God, fuck off Mully.” You’re laughing and several other people in the suite are joining in, knowing whatever Mully did, he more than likely deserved your annoyance.

Finally, “The Chain” starts playing, MSG erupting in cheers as the fans know what that means. You join your mom and Lucy up towards the front and you just have to pull out your phone to film the crowd singing along as they get ready for Niall to come out.

As always, once the lights go out, it’s deafening. With a glance at Lucy, you double check that her protective headphones are in place as the opening of The Show: Live on Tour starts projecting across the curtain.

Niall is a dream on stage. The outfit choice alone is enough to get you a little worked up.

“Oh my god.”

Niall looks up, glancing at you in the mirror of his dressing room. “What’s up babe?”

You just stare at his back for a minute. “Niall…”

He turns to look at you. “What?”

“You look like a 90s heartthrob, what the fuck?”

His smirk grows and he crosses his arms over his chest and your eyes move over his arms. “Oh yeah? Am I gettin’ ya worked up over der?”

Leaning your head back, you close your eyes. “I hate you.” Niall laughs loudly.

It’s clear Niall is in a good mood again tonight. He’s a little less talkative and definitely a little less emotional than the night before. Even from up in the suite, you catch him throwing waves and winks in your direction and you know several are meant for Lucy, who waves enthusiastically back every time.

The band starts setting up for the acoustic set and Niall spends a minute talking to the crowd before they start to play. You typically know what the setlist is going to look like before the show, so you are absolutely floored when he starts playing “Paper Houses”. It’s your absolute favorite song, something he knows, and suddenly you’re just mouthing the words as you start to cry.

They’re happy tears. Grateful for how far the two of you have come. Proud of him for how far he’s come. You’re so in love with this man, it almost hurts. He’s sitting down, playing the guitar and he glances in the direction of your suite. Logically, you know there’s no way he can actually see you, but you don’t care. You blow him a kiss and lay your hand on your heart, hopeful that he just knows.

—————

It’s almost weird being back on the bus, despite the fact that you’d only spent two nights in the hotel in New York.

After the show had ended, you and your family had gone backstage and spent some time with Niall and the band. It had been a big group, family and friends for everyone just celebrating. In truth, all you’d wanted to do was get your boyfriend alone.

Finally, everyone had started to shuffle out and the band had started to make their way out to the buses. You and Niall had loaded onto yours, making your excuses about wanting to be alone, heading to the bedroom in the back. You and Niall had taken a shower together, mostly just to be close as the tour bus showers weren’t really big enough for anything too exciting.

Afterwards, you’d spent a very long time showing Niall just how proud you were of him, how much you loved him. In the end, it left both of you sweaty and shaking as you lay there. The tv was on, reruns of something neither of you were paying attention to playing with the sound off, the light flickering over both of you tangled in the sheets.

With a sigh, you adjust until you’re laying on your stomach, ear over Niall’s heart. The steady thump is soothing and you close your eyes. “You played my favorite.” You say softly, running your fingers up and down his chest.

His chest rumbles as he hums. “I did. Wanted ta surprise you.”

“Definitely a surprise.”

He shifts a bit under you, the arm behind you wrapping over your shoulders. “Ya liked it?”

You lift your head to meet his eyes. He looks so soft and rumpled and you swear it actually tugs at your heart. “I loved it.”

“Good.” He smiles and you lean down to press a kiss to his peck before you lay your head back down. The two of you lapse back into silence and Niall’s breathing slows enough that you think he’s fallen asleep. You’re slowly drifting off, body and mind content, when he squeezes at your shoulder. “Hey, you asleep?”

“Not yet.” You breathe out.

“Come ‘ere.” The two of you shift and sleepily work together until you’re further up the bed, legs tangled, your head on Niall’s upper arm as you face each other.

Reaching your hand up, you rub at his scalp and run your fingers down the side of his face. “What’s going on, honey?”

“Just wanted to look at ya.” He says softly and if you weren’t already a puddle from earlier, you’d honestly melt at the look in his eyes. “I love you, ya know dat?”

You smile at him. “I think I’ve heard it a few times.” His lips twitch up slightly. “I love you too. So much, Ni.”

His free hand caresses your waist, curling around your hip and drawing your body that much closer. The two of you lay there in silence and your eyes drift shut as you listen to him breathe. He takes a deep breath, tangling his fingers with yours.

“Marry me.”

Your eyes flutter open, meeting the startling blue of his. His gaze is resolute and you swallow against the emotions building in your chest. “Are you-?”

“Don’t ask me if ‘m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anyting in me life.” His hand leaves your hip in favor of cupping your cheek. “There is nothing more I want than to spend da rest of my life wit you. I want ta experience every good moment with you. And I want to experience every bad moment wit ya too. I want everything with you. Your name is branded all over me heart, darlin’ and I’d rather carve it out than ever be without ya.” You sniffle and Niall smiles as he wipes a few tears off your cheek. “So, Y/N, marry me?”

You smile, nodding into his arm. “Yes.”

Niall’s face lights up and he pulls you in tighter, fingers gripping your flesh hard enough to bruise, but you don’t care. “Yeah?” He asks breathlessly.

Hands on either side of his face, you lean in and kiss him, both of you gasping into each other. You pull back slightly, your nose brushing his as you smile at him.

“Yeah.”

——————

A/N: And there we have it kiddos. Flicker of Hope is officially over.

…Unless I suddenly get inspired or one of you gives me a prompt I fall in love with lol. It was never not going to end this way for me. These two were always end game.

I hope you liked it ❤️

[venusandsaturnsrings]

Venus (And I mean that in both your name and how you look, like goddamn you look so fine 😍😍) look at me, but what if you're just as nasty as Childe is, his roommate and his obsession all in one.

But you can match him just as well, he is crusty in so many ways but you're just as desperate for him.

If only you knew how he watched you, how he narrowed his eyes at the familiar smell on his pillows or the mess that was in his room after he left for work most days, knowing that it most certainly wasn't left like that before, but that was fine he got all he needed from the small cameras hidden around his room always watching and waiting from the moment he clicked that door closed and left for work for the day.

If only you knew that he loved the way his phone would ping with movement in his room the moment he reached the bus stop, pulling out his phone to watch as you crept into his room, running your fingers across his desk and pulling his chair back before settling into the very spot he occupied so often when he rewatched the footage he had of you.

For every muttering of 'creep' that you threw at him, he could throw it back with what he knew you did when he wasn't there.

Alone in the apartment, once again creeping into the familiar room your roommate had just left, flicking your tongue across your lips as you settled into the office chair you had taken up every day that he left for work since you had become infatuated, spreading your legs and running your hands across the exposed skin left from your choice of sleepwear, only a shirt, and underwear worn specifically to tease your dear roommate for those few moments your crossed paths in the morning, not that you knew it teased him.

Today you were lucky, his computer was left open with a browser tab open with a site showing off exactly what he had been watching the previous night, what you had heard his groans and moans through the walls about, the video paused perfectly to show one of the actors pressed hips to the ass of their partner hands digging into their thighs and pulling them back, this is what he was watching and this is what you would watch.

Unpausing the video and moving off the chair and pushing it out of the way so you can settle on his bed to pick up from where he had left off, oh so ignorant to the cameras that were catching every angle and every possible noise you were making. Never would Childe be so glad his work had him tucked away in some back corner as he was now, watching your seated on his bed, his pillow under you as you followed along to the video he had planted, wanting to add more of these sights to his growing collection.

If only you knew how he gripped his shitty office chair as he listened to you moan his name, having to only have one earphone in as someone came to talk with him, immediately returning to the camera feed he had hidden to watch as your shook and came on his bed, the cry of his name so perfect he could have saved it and set it as his alarm to have you calling his name to wake him every morning...

But for now, he would watch as you came down wiping your hands on his pillows, smearing more of yourself for him to enjoy the moment he got home. Watching and waiting for when you were ready, knowing soon you would be wearing his clothes again, tucked up on his chair or maybe you would skip that today and fuck yourself stupid on the not-so-hidden toy he kept in his room, not quite as thick as him but close enough that he would be able to imagine it was him as he watched you. Anyway! Enjoy this, it was floating around in my head for a while

what if we kissed what if we kissed I LOVE YOU THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME!! rip to my 12 other drafts this is more important… that said, i don’t have much to add, this is already perfect MWAH i love u cor my dearest (๑>◡<๑) perhaps i’ll work this into something larger…

contains: afab/fem reader, incel childe, stalker behaviours on both ends, you’re both equally as fucked up, sort of exhibitionism??

the light in the apartment was dim. Ajax left for work early in the mornings and so you had the rest of the day at your disposal to do as you pleased. this entailed eating from the dishes your roommate had already used so perhaps the shared surface would present shared saliva, enjoying the silence you didn’t usually get, and finally entering his room.

the curtains were always drawn shut. you often grumbled about how he needed more sunlight but he claimed the darkness helped him think better. the sheets on his bed were slightly wrinkled and you could see the spot he had rolled from this morning. clothes filled his laundry bin but many shirts and the like were scattered on the floor from whenever he threw them off without a care. you could see empty cans of energy drinks, disposable vapes, and plenty of lewd manga scattering his shelves. it was gross and the picturesque representation of degeneracy yet you grew needy for it all the same. how such… distasteful behaviours and living had you so enamoured was beyond yourself; it was simply a matter of truth. you like him and you love the way he is.

you drew closer to his computer monitor and tucked yourself up onto the chair to peruse whatever he’d been looking at before, blissfully unaware to the sapphire eyes trained on every inch of your form. you scanned through all of his tabs and apps chuckling to yourself at all of the pornographic material he consumed. he truly is pathetic and that struck an embarrassing amount of desire inside of you. Ajax thought the way you smiled and laughed to yourself, at him, was cute. he thought your expression upon seeing what he was watching the night before was even cuter. your eyes widened the slightest bit and your mouth fell open as you clicked ‘play’ on the video displayed across the monitor. Ajax had taken special care to make sure it was this particular video he left out for you to enjoy the same way he had.

you rewinded what was playing to the beginning and the video opened with a scene of the man and women pressed closely together, mouths on top of one another. it was intimate and clearly homemade. bodies shifted together until the two were moth stripped naked and the woman was on her stomach, ass pulled up and flush to the man’s hips. the pace set was hard and fast with the woman squealing and crying over the treatment she was receiving. your hands were balled into fists with your shirt at this point so you simply rid yourself of it before standing up and moving to be on Ajax’s bed. you briefly considered taking your usual comfortable position of laying back onto his pillows but with such a video on you couldn’t help yourself but mirror the position the woman had been forced into. bent over and spread so pretty with fingers working your cunt open, you were oblivious to the camera set up and aimed directly at your pussy. the audio Ajax received was nothing short of spectacular. he could hear every slick sound and cry as you desperately fucked yourself back on your own fingers, ones much shorter and smaller than his own. with the way your body moved and shifted he could see every sway of your hips and jiggle of your ass and thighs as you attempted to make yourself feel as good as the duo in the video did. your efforts were commendable, at least, but surely he’d be able to make you feel better if you stopped playing hard to get.

stepping off the bus where he was pressed closely into a corner, he continued his short walk to work while listening intently to the sounds you made unknowingly just for him. Ajax wouldn’t miss a second of this if his life depended on it. he exchanged polite greetings and banter with coworkers all while hearing you sob and moan through his earbud. surely everyone thought his wide grin was for them but reality would be one that got him fired most definitely. he made quick work of settling into his usual space in order to pull open his phone and watch you move with utmost attention. your cunt was shiny and slick with all the juices you had worked out of it and it had his mouth watering. Ajax wanted nothing more than to suck and lick away at any of the beads of your nectar slipping down your thighs. the shaking that took over your body as you came, however, was unmatched. you trembled and cried out with pleas of his name that he’d definitely be replaying all throughout the day. the loud ‘schlick’ that followed your fingers finally leaving your pussy had his dick jump in his pants. Ajax observed with hearts in his eyes as you wiped not only your fingers off on his pillow but your pussy off on one of the shirts scattered on the floor.

you stood and stretched as something sadistic tweaked in Ajax’s bones. he moved to flick a couple buttons on his headphones and phone before softly pulling the mic to his mouth. with words equal parts gentle and venomous be murmured, “quite the show you put on there.” and merely revelled in your panicked expression before finally turning things off and putting them away. he didn’t plan on revealing the audio capabilities of the cameras, or any of it at all, but the desire to see you so cutely scared overwhelmed him.

he’d let you rewatch it all with his own fingers in you later.

[smarksthespot1717]

For the first time in his life, Ed could really and truly relax. Stede made their home feel safe, and Ed enjoyed building it with him. In the past, Ed had never allowed himself to be surrounded by comforts, save for his brief time with Stede on the Revenge before the abandonment and the darkest time in Ed's life. But now their home was filled with nothing but comforts. Plush rugs you could sink your toes into, squishy throw pillows, soft sheets, soft clothing, and silly romance novels Ed enjoyed reading in his free time.

Their home was also filled with food. With the bit of treasure they'd taken from the ship, going to the market to buy food was no big deal. Ed was also improving at fishing, and brought home dinner himself many nights. Stede would go to the bakery almost every day, and return with freshly baked treats for them both. And at night, Ed slept like a baby, under a soft heavy blanket and with Stede spooning him.

There was a change that happened slowly. Slowly enough that Ed didn't notice it until it suddenly hit him all at once. He was getting pudgy. One morning he was getting dressed, and his favorite plum-colored pants bit into his tummy something awful when he got them buttoned up. He went to look at himself in profile in the mirror, and his eyes bulged at the sight. A chubby belly was muffining over the waistband, like dough trying to escape from a too-small bowl.

For the first time in months, Ed panicked.

He knew he was over-reacting, which just made it worse. He crawled into the bed, pulled the blankets up over his head, and got into the fetal position. He didn't undo the pants at all, and felt how mercilessly they pressed into his soft belly, a constant, tight reminder of what he did to himself.

Fat greedy pig. He didn't deserve 3 meals a day. He didn't know why Stede thought he did. 3 meals a day were for rich people, good people, and all the types of people he was not. He should consider himself lucky to get hardtack and dried meat once a day.

He had stopped having nightmares about his time in Hornigold's ship years and years ago. He laughed it off now, those old days back when he and Jack were paying their dues. But maybe his recent purgatorial encounter with him unlocked some old memories. Ben in his head tried to feed him soup. Hornigold from his past screamed at anyone who vocalized hunger pains, and reminded them all that they were unworthy rats who were lucky they didn't get crumbs from the floor. And if he was only verbally abusive that day, that was a good day. Often times he'd get the cat-o-nine tails and make a show. He was completely sadistic. Ed managed to avoid the worst of it. He was still alive, after all. He was already used to being hungry. His father drank away money that should've gone to feeding him. And he was quick and smart and light on his feet. He kept his head down. And he was just an unworthy dog.

An unworthy dog who was now eating like a king, with snacks between meals, multiple pastries a day, and growing fat off it. He suddenly felt nauseous, and curled up around himself tighter.

"Darling?" Stede called, entering their bedroom. "Edward, are you still asleep? There's a chili festival in town today, remember?"

He walked over to the lump on the bed, and noticed it was shivering. He slowly pulled down the blanket and found Ed tear-stained and red in the face.

"Edward!" Stede cried out, horrified. "Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare? What can I do?"

"I'm sorry," Ed sniffled. "I'm fat."

"You're not fat."

"I'm getting fat. I have to stop this, I have to lose it--"

"Why?" Stede asked gently.

Ed opened his mouth, and then closed it again, realizing any words about to come out of his mouth were straight from Hornigold, and he didn't want to repeat the awful things that man said.

"Don't deserve it," he whispered eventually.

"Can I touch you, dear?" Stede asked softly.

Ed nodded, and Stede put his hand on Ed's shoulder and rubbed it gently. "Of course you deserve it, love. You've lead such a tough life. You deserve lots of good food and to put on a bit of happy weight more than me, that's for sure."

Ed's eyes flicked to Stede's belly, which was, in fairness, basically right next to his face. It rested ever so slightly in his lap. Stede was so warm and soft, so him gaining a bit of retirement weight made sense. Stede had been slightly pudgier when they met than he was when they reunited, so it felt right to see him fill out again. He liked it on Stede. But for himself?

"I'm being greedy," Ed said. "And I don't deserve it. I'm just being a fucking pig--"

"Ed, please," Stede pleaded gently. "What brought this all on?"

"You're gonna think I'm stupid... but I just noticed..."

"I don't think you're stupid. I only really noticed it recently too. My pants are starting to fight with me," Stede said, laughing it off. "It happened slowly. We see each other and ourselves every day. It makes sense that we both missed it until it suddenly clicked."

Ed nodded. "And... I was thinking about... Hornigold... the old days. He never fed us enough. Izzy used to scoff at any sort of sweet purchase. He said it was impulsive and wasteful and that money could be better spent on actual food. And he was right--"

"Look, keeping the crew fed with proper food is important, but dessert is important to. It keeps the crew happy. It makes you happy. And you're not the kind of person to spend all your money on cake and leave nothing for meat and bread and such. I'm sure whatever you wanted was more than reasonable, and Izzy was just being... Izzy-like," Stede said.

Ed didn't respond to that. He let out a small sigh as he felt his body come down from its sudden panic.

"Do you think I'm ugly?"

"What? No! I could never think you're ugly, Ed. Do... do you think I'm ugly now that I've... put on a few?" Stede said, his bravado and confidence turning to anxiety and shame shockingly quickly.

"No," Ed replied, reaching out and putting a hand on Stede's thigh. "I like it. You look soft and happy. Like you're s'posed to be. It's nice to cuddle and squish and... I just like it on you."

"Well, I like it on you. You look safe, and happy, and relaxed. I noticed that whenever you eat a pastry, you do this cute little wiggle in your hips, and you look so happy. I like how it's visible proof that you're safe. That you can be soft, and you never have to worry about being hard again. And... it's very pretty, dear. It suits you very well."

Ed sat up and leaned his head on Stede's shoulder.

"Thank you."

"You're precious, and you deserve to eat whatever you want. And I'm your boyfriend who deserves to spoil you rotten. And if you get a little pudgy, that's ok, great even, if it means you're happy."

"Even if... I keep getting chubbier?"

"You can get as chubby as you want, Ed. I will love you just the same."

Ed put his arms around Stede, and Stede hugged him back.

Stede would never lie to him. Ed knew this from experience, and Stede had even said so explicitly multiple times. Which meant it really was alright that he was growing soft, and might keep growing softer, and that he wasn't a greedy pig for eating 3 square meals plus snacks and dessert, and that he wasn't an unworthy rat who deserved to starve.

Stede and Ed had exchanged a lot of stories of their childhoods and youths by this point, a lot of which were usually responded to with: "That's absolutely awful, you didn't deserve any of that." Ed was absolutely sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Stede didn't deserve the torture he was put through as a child by the hands of his fellow students. He didn't deserve a cold, unloving father, who called him a soft and weak spoiled brat. He didn't deserve any of that.

So Ed didn't deserve to have a father who drank and screamed and threw things and hit. He didn't deserve to spend years toiling away for Hornigold, with Jack as his only point of comfort. He didn't deserve the way Izzy treated him, as if his interests were stupid and he wasn't tough enough to keep being Blackbeard.

Ed deserves this. Ed deserves happiness.

"Let's get up," Ed said softly. "We need to eat breakfast. And maybe hit the tailor's before going to the chili festival," he said with a chuckle.

Stede chuckled with him. "Sounds like a perfect day."

[george-weasleys-girl]

North Star Series

Chapter 13 - To Dance the Dance (Part 1)

Summary: George puts his plan into action. Y/N sinks further into depression.

Warnings: angst, one curse word, depiction of depression, brief mention of obsessive thoughts

Start Here:

~•~

The week before Valentines Day, Y/N would return to her room each afternoon to find a small gift from George sitting on her pillow. A box of her favorite chocolates one day, a small bouquet of snowdrops another. Though her favorite, by far, was the adorably cheesy handwritten love poem.

Then, two days before the holiday, Y/N returned to find an envelope laying neatly on her pillow.

You are cordially invited to

The Valentines Day Ball

February 14th at noon

Gryffindor Common Room

Formal attire is required

She smiled, thanking her lucky stars that she had someone as amazing as George in her life. If it weren't for him she might be balled up under her bedcovers right now.

In the past couple of weeks, Y/N had learned what it was like to drown on dry land, her mother's words choking her, flooding into her lungs and saturating her mind, telling her she was shit, over and over.

~•~

Two weeks earlier

"I'm not hungry." Y/N picked at her food.

"You barely ate breakfast," George said. "Just a couple more bites, ok? Please."

"My stomach is upset," she replied, pushing the plate of food away.

George rubbed his forehead. Y/N had eaten next to nothing the past few days. Ever since that damned letter from her mother, he watched Y/N sink deeper and deeper into her own personal hell. Every time he thought he was pulling her out, she'd slip through his fingers. Again and again.

Y/N stood abruptly, wrenching George from his thoughts.

He stood with her. "Where are you going, my love?"

"I have to pee, George. Is that alright with you? Or do I need help with that, too?" she snapped, causing him to flinch.

His reaction to her words hit her like a ton of bricks. She had to get out of there before she hurt anyone else. Y/N stumbled back. "I--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" she stammered, throwing her backpack over her shoulder, and darting out, George following close behind.

"Wait, Y/N! Please, wait!"

Y/N stopped in the hallway, staring down at the floor.

"Hey, love, it's ok," he said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

She shook her head. "No, it isn't. I'm not handling things well, right now. I think it's best if you stay away from me for a while. I may say things that I--that would push you away." A single sob escaped her lips.

"Hey you, c'mere." George pulled her into a tight hug. "Never feel like a few angry words would somehow jeopardize our relationship. My love for you isn't conditional on you being happy all the time. Even at your worst there's no place I'd rather be than by your side," he paused, kissing the top of her head. "You're stuck with me, darling, so you may as well get used to it."

She was silent for a long moment, letting his words sink in.

"Ok." She nodded, sniffling, her mouth curving into a small smile.

"That's my girl," George continued. "What do you say we skip class for the rest of the day? Maybe sneak off to Hogsmede. I'll buy you some of that chocolate you really like."

Y/N chuckled and pulled back to look at him. "I don't know that I'm fit for public consumption. How about we just snuggle up in bed and watch cheesy movies all afternoon?"

"Love the idea," he said. "On one condition."

"Hmm?"

"You let me feed you snacks."

"Popcorn?"

"Anything you want, sweetheart."

~•~

Gryffindor Tower was empty, except for Y/N and George, everyone else having gone to Hogsmede for Valentines Day. He fiddled with the centerpiece on the table for the 217th time. Today had to be perfect.

Over the past three weeks, he'd watched over Y/N like a sentinel, making sure she took proper care of herself. It was only a few days ago, when she burned her mother's letter and cast the photo to the four winds, that the light began to return to her eyes.

George hoped today would bring her one step closer to recovery. He'd planned out everything, down to the very last detail. From the myriad twinkling red, lavender and white hearts hovering in the air, to the formal table setting and the centerpiece containing twelve roses, matching the colors of the floating hearts. Red for deep love and passion, white for new beginnings and lavender for enchantment.

George had even convinced McGonagall to let him borrow the gramophone. Then, upon hearing George's plans, the Professor also arranged for a sumptuous lunch for two to be delivered to Gryffindor Tower on Valentines Day.

~•~

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, unable to stop smiling. Ginny was right, she did look like a fairytale princess. She giggled as she spun in a circle watching her dress swirl around her. It was the first time since she'd received that fateful letter that she felt like herself again.

~•~

The door to the girls dorm opened and George gazed up at Y/N, his mouth falling open as she descended the stairs. He'd seen her once before in her ball gown when she had the flu and thought she was beautiful. But now, beautiful seemed too crude of a word. The world dimmed in comparison to her presence. It was if she was spun from sunshine. So radiant and warm, her soft hair cascading in waves around her face, highlighting her luminous eyes that sparkled only for him. "My girl is back."

He took her hand, guiding her down the last few stairs.

"You look quite dashing," she complimented, when he continued to stare at her slack-jawed.

George shook himself. "Oh, um, thank you. You look--" His words faltered and he pinched himself. Then, reached out and pinched her.

"Ow! What was that for?" Y/N pouted.

"Sorry, love. Just wanted to make sure neither of us was dreaming."

Y/N snorted, shaking her head, before standing on her tiptoes to peck his cheek.

She then turned in a slow circle, taking in the shimmering decorations and beautiful roses surrounded by a mountain of food. "You did all this for me?"

"Well, yeah," George said, pink tinging his cheeks. "Do you like it?"

"I--I love it so much. No one has ever done anything like this for me." She turned back to him, tears blurring her vision. "Thank you."

"Oh, don't cry, sweetheart." George wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Don't worry Georgie," she smiled. "They're good tears, happy tears."

~•~

*If you'd like to be added to the taglist, let me know*

~•~

Next Chapter (18+only):

[1986harrington]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader Warnings: Mature Content (18+) Summary: You're trying to take care of your injured boyfriend, but he has other ideas...

“C’mon,” Steve groaned playfully into the curve of your neck when you half-heartedly pulled back from him, burying your face into the pillow with an exasperated laugh to avoid his kisses. Lucky for you, your boyfriend was nothing if not persistent. His mouth was still hot on your skin, tongue and lips tracing along your bare shoulder and up your neck until he was speaking low and gravelly against the shell of your ear. “Just one more kiss, then I promise I’ll behave.” “You couldn’t behave if your life depended on it, Steve Harrington.”

This was supposed to be a fleeting visit, you tried to remind yourself as you rolled onto your side, leg slung over your boyfriend’s hip and your hand resting on his chest as he lay propped up on the pillows below you. 

It had been just over a week since Steve’s run in with the demobats, and although he was doing much better, he was still in no condition to get up to half of the things he wanted to with you.

Not that it was stopping him from trying, of course. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enabling it just a tiny bit for your own entirely selfish reasons.

The plan today had been for you to stop by his house on your way to work and drop off some groceries for him - maybe throw some laundry in the machine and make him something to eat, that sort of thing.

You were not, however, supposed to end up in bed with him, rolling around like he didn’t still have bandages taped to his torso. 

“C’mon,” Steve groaned playfully into the curve of your neck when you half-heartedly pulled back from him, burying your face into the pillow with an exasperated laugh to avoid his kisses.

Lucky for you, your boyfriend was nothing if not persistent. His mouth was still hot on your skin, tongue and lips tracing along your bare shoulder and up your neck until he was speaking low and gravelly against the shell of your ear. “Just one more kiss, then I promise I’ll behave.”

“You couldn’t behave if your life depended on it, Harrington.”

You were smiling as you pushed him back against the pillows gently, one hand pressed to the centre of his chest and your leg still intertwined with his as you propped yourself up on your elbow to look down at him.

“Yeah? Well you don’t exactly make it easy.”

“Huh, is that so?” You teased, your fingertips trailing idly up and down his chest and watching how his body tensed under even the lightest of your touches.

“Mhm,” Steve managed to bite out through a groan, bottom lip between his teeth as he nods. 

“In fact…” His hand reached across to hook under your knee that was resting against his thigh, pulling you over to straddle him. “...you make it really fucking hard.”

He was grinning up at you, eyes ablaze with a dangerous mix of mischief and lust, and his grin only widened as he watched your cheeks flush and your eyes flutter shut for a second as you settled on his lap, feeling him hard and pressed against you in a way that made your vision cloudy.

“Steve,” You all but whispered, one hand bracing you against his shoulder, the material of his shirt fisted in your hand whilst the other gripped the headboard behind him to try and keep from leaning all your weight against his injured side.

It was supposed to be a reprimand, but honestly it sounded more like an encouragement and so Steve snaked one hand up towards your face, cupping your jaw and thumbing at your bottom lip whilst the other pulled at your hip until you were flush against him in his lap.

“Jesus Christ,” He cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a soft thump.

“Shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” You panicked, trying to clamber off of him as you inspect for any sign of blood or injury.

“Nah, I’m good, I’m good, I promise. Just, don’t go. Please.” Steve protested, his thumb now brushing back and forth across your cheek, his other hand on your waist securing you in place.

“But Stev-” He cut off your next argument with the pressure of his lips against yours - familiar and addictive and when his tongue pushed into your mouth, whatever you were about to say vanished completely from your mind. 

His hands were everywhere at once - palming the bare skin of your thighs, sliding up your back and under your shirt, one hand wrapping around your throat with just enough pressure to make your eyes roll back before he slid the same hand down your front and towards the button of your shorts. His fingertips teased the edge of the material, and your head fell forwards in anticipation of his fingers dipping below the waistband. Instead, suddenly, the heel of his palm was pressing against you over your shorts, right over the seam and you had to squeeze your thighs tighter against his hips to keep your balance. 

When his other hand started tugging impatiently at the hem of your shirt, you leaned back from him just enough to pull it up and over your head, knowing he couldn’t stretch far enough right now or it would have been off already.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed out, eyes raking over you as you pushed a hand through your hair and swept it over your shoulder. “I can’t wait until I can take your clothes off you again.”

You leaned back into him, smiling as you let your mouth fall to his jaw, kissing your way along until your lips were by his ear. “Mhmm, me too. It’s so much more fun when you’re tearing them off me.”

You were aware of a faint groan that sounded something like Jesus Christ as your hands got to work on his buckle, your mind hazy and focused only on easing the ache that was on the verge of driving you crazy. 

Steve’s mouth was all over you now - nipping at your neck, biting gently at your shoulder, kissing along your jaw until he’s whispering everything he wants to do to you right against your ear. Blood was rushing in your ears, your skin was hot all over and all you could think about was how good he felt pressed against you everywhere.

But you needed more.

Having successfully unbuckled his jeans, your hands slid back up his chest, pulling at the collar of his shirt and pressing kisses there. 

“I want this off,” You pleaded, and Steve immediately sat forward with only a slight grimace, lifting his arms as high as he could manage as you pulled the shirt from his body. Every time he winced slightly, you pressed another kiss to his chest, his arms, his ribs, murmuring apologies into the skin.

The affection and desire and intimacy of it seemed to numb whatever discomfort he was in, and suddenly Steve had an arm wrapped around your bare waist as he flipped you onto your back, settling himself between your legs.

“Steve, be careful-” 

Once again, he cut you off with a kiss, and if you weren’t so entirely blissed out and despearte, you’d be annoyed at him not letting you finish your sentences.

“Up,” He says with a tap to your hip and you do as he says, letting him pull your shorts down your thighs until you can kick them off to the side. 

“You’re so beautiful. You know that, right?” His eyes hold yours, noses brushing, breathing in each other’s air and you slide your hands around the back of his neck and pull him down to you. You’re breathless and dizzy by the time he pulls his lips aways from yours and begins kissing down your chest, one hand skillfully dipping behind you to unclasp your bra and discard it off to the side. He carries on down, across your stomach, peppering kisses to your ribs and all the way down to the dip between your hip bones. His fingers hook around the band of your underwear, sliding them down your thighs until they are soon lost along with the rest of your clothes,

Your back arches off the bed, variations of “Please, Steve, please,” rolling off your tongue as you grip his hair, his mouth kissing along the inside of your thigh and just when you felt like you were about to lose your mind, he gave you what you needed. 

His hands gripped your thighs and pinned your hips to the bed as he worked you into a frenzy with his mouth. He knows you so well - every angle, just the right pressure, the perfect pace - everything to have you hurtling towards the edge in a matter of minutes, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

You were breathless and shaking with anticipation, so close and on the brink of total bliss when you found the sheer willpower to tug at his hair a little harder, pulling him from you and capturing his attention.

“Together. I wanna come together,” You’re practically panting but you can’t bring yourself to care. “Get on your back.”

It sounds a little more demanding that you had intended as you push at his shoulder, but Steve sure as hell doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yes, ma’am,” He agreed, eyes dark and glassy but glittering like a man on a high. You make quick work of getting rid of his jeans, relishing in the sounds he makes once he’s free of his boxers too.

“Ready?” You ask, breathless and out of your mind above him and he actually laughs as if you just told him the world’s shittiest joke.

“Babe, you’re kidding righ-” This time it’s you that cuts him off, sinking down onto him until your mind and body is full of nothing but him.

“Oh my god, fuck,” You breathe out, head falling back as his hands grab at your hips, and in turn your hands grab at his forearms to steady yourself.

“Holy shit, you’re incredible. Actually incredible, shit.” His eyes are squeezed shut as he waits for you to adjust, the anticipation of the first rock of your hips nearly killing him.

“If I hurt you, you need to tell me,” You breathe out, leaning forward to cage him in with a hand either side of his head.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever, just - fuck, please,” He was rambling now, hands motioning for you to move your hips and when you did, it was the most intense feeling that you couldn’t even explain. 

Pleasure shoots through you, your skin hot and slick with a sheen of sweat and he feels so warm and solid beneath you almost can’t breathe.

Steve's lost his mind, unable to control the words tumbling out of him in quick breaths - telling you how good you are to him, how perfect you feel and how much he loves you - and they go straight to the ache you’re so desperate to relieve. You're panting now, breathless and telling him just like that, please, baby, I'm nearly there, before finally falling over the edge to the sound of him telling you how fucking close he is. You're coming, clenching down around him and cursing, calling his name over and over again until he’s coming too, his grip on your hips almost bruising as you finally collapsed beside him.

You both lay for a moment, catching your breath and staring at the ceiling whilst you waited for the feeling to return to your legs.

“You know…” Steve began, his voice rough as it broke the peaceful silence around them.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes falling closed as you felt for his hand laying between you both. You took hold of it, linking your fingers together and sighing softly as he brushed his thumbs across your knuckles.

“If I knew all it took was getting my ass kicked by some demobats to get you on top for once, I’d have jumped off that boat a hell of a lot sooner.”

You were silent for a second, considering scolding him for joking about his literal near death experience, but instead you felt your lips split into a smile and soon you were laughing. You opened your eyes and turned to the side to face him, both your heads heavy against the pillows as you scooted closer to him and pressed your lips to his before whispering against his mouth “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”