#my favorite part is him just going up on the fuckin ceiling

[team5ds]

every yugioh 5ds duel:

episode three:escape! nitro warrior vs. goyo guardian!

                     yusei fudo vs tetsu ushio                      RESULT: YUSEI FUDO VICTORY.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

pure fluff, fem reader, not proofread, katsuki really likes the way you smell, talks of marriage, katsuki being an absolute demon, biting bc is it rlly a cash fic if it doesn’t involve katsuki biting us ? lemme know if i missed sum else <3

a.n.: ..so this came to me in the middle of the night and i had to write it down before i forgot about it…please do not perceive me🫶🏾

katsuki keeps sniffing at your wrist.

for some reason, he keeps bringing your palm towards his face and you imagined he’d kiss it if he was feeling a little sweeter than usual or he’d bite your finger if he was feeling like a little shit.

imagine your surprise when instead, he just sniffs you and goes right back to watching tv.

he does it for the fifth time in the span of a few seconds and you turn your head that was smooshed into his chest staring at the tv to stare at him with a brow raised.

“katsuki.” he only grunts in response, nose pressed to your pulse point. a deep, grumbled noise comes from the deepest part of his chest when you try to pull your arm out of his grip.

“quit squirmin’. ”

“katsuki !” you squeal, giggling. katsuki grunts into your skin, pulling your hand closer to his face.

“what’re you doing ?” you chirp.

“ya smell like somethin’” is all he offers you for a response, your lip pulls up in confusion. you tilt your head.

“like what ?”

“i dunno, s’like—” he cuts himself off, pulls your hand away from his face to stare up at the ceiling in thought, only to bring it back to his nose.

you can’t help laughing at his behavior “ like what ?” you urge.

“different.” he settles “this some new perfume or somethin’ ?” he asks seriously, lifting himself up so he can sit up against the couch cushion and you follow, no longer laying but sitting up in his lap.

“not really, it’s this new body wash i found at the mall !” katsuki grunts in acknowledgment “was walking around with a friend and she recommended it to me, so i figured i’d give it a shot.” you explain.

“smells good right ?” you ask excitedly. katsuki damn near growls at your wrist, then he drops it and stuffs his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you tightly like he’s trying to squeeze you to death, pulling you closer to him.

“so fuckin’ good.” he rumbles, the way his voice deepens has shivers going down your spine and has you impossibly giddy.

“what soap is that ? need ta stock up on it.”

you roll your eyes “so you can steal it from me ? no thank you.”

“m’ your boyfriend, you’re s’posed to share with me. what’s that saying? what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours ?” his voice is smushed against the fabric of your clothes because he can’t stay away from your skin for more than three seconds, going back for whiffs like an addict. you wrap your arms around him with a snort.

“isn’t that saying usually for married couples ? we’re not married.”

“yet.”

your heartbeat quickens and you feel your skin prickle and go hot at how casually he uttered the word. you play around with the hairs on his nape.

“..yet” you utter quietly. his nose is pressed against your addams apple, deeming it his new favorite spot to sniff at you like a dog. “so until then, my secret stays with me.”

“tch, stingy woman.” he scoffs “might have to marry you sooner than i thought.” he smirks.

you move to shove your head into his shoulder in embarrassment and he straight up laughs, the asshole. you’d be angry if you weren’t as in love with him as you were in this very moment.

“oi, i told you to quit squirming.” he jests.

“katsukiii !” you whine. he only chuckles, greatly enjoying the way he’s tormenting you.

“what ?” he snorts, his nose is pressed to your shoulder “don’t act brand new, you knew i was gonna marry you.”

“this is bullying.” he barks out a loud laugh at your flustered response.

“me puttin’ a ring on that fuckin—” he grabs your hand again and presses his lips to your ring finger “divine smellin’ finger of yours is bullying ?” he chuckles.

“you’re so weird.” you can’t help the smile that grows against his shoulder and he feels it too, the smirk against your finger only grows.

“right back atcha.” he snickers, then bites into your shoulder like he’s trying to take a chunk out of you.

“ouch ! katsuki !” you yelp, smacking his back lightly, all he does is snicker like the evil motherfucker he is.

“sorry, baby.” he apologizes but you can hear in the teasing lilt in his voice he regrets absolutely nothing “ ya smell so good i couldn’t help it.”

a.n. : i actually don’t know if that saying is usually for married couples but pls ignore it for plot sake thx 🤞🏽💓

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper

[partycatty]

so johnny puts on a little bit of weight right (eating or drinking who knows) and he fuckin hates it. maybe not insecure but he’s not happy with how he looks, his abs aren’t defined and hard as rock anymore, he can GRAB his stomach.

so fem!reader isn’t having it and FUCKS HIM BLOWS HIM RIDES HIM all while grabbing at the flesh of his ass thighs stomach anywhere she can nab and praising him because thick men and women are HOT

love you 💙💙

IM SORRY IM NOT MAKING THIS SMUTTY BECAUSE I NEED FLUFF FOR ONCE IN MY GODDAMN LIFE BLUE I LOVE YOU BUT YOU NEED TO BE SPAYED /LH

johnny cage > pudge

warnings: insecure johnny *chewing on his pudge rn*

notes: guys im tweaking over johnny hardcore this time around thanks to my favorite enabler @spacepl4ant <3

[ masterlist ]

• johnny has been insecure as of late, pulling and squishing at his body with frustrated groans every time he dressed himself in the mirror. his jawline softened, chest puffed and stomach spilling out over his belt. he didn't want to admit just how far he let himself go, drinking on his off-days and spending more time on the couch instead of his at-home gym. it took a toll on his perfect physique.

• he didn't want to burden you with the realization, opting to ignore the change by wearing looser clothing or pulling away when your touches get too intimate. it put you off, leaving you confused and worried on why he's being so distant. was it something you did? something you didn't do?

• it wasn't that he was neglecting you or declining your touch, he just visibly tensed or conveniently turned away to your physical advances. he felt gross, he felt unlike himself, as if he was wearing the wrong skin and it made it crawl. johnny wondered if you would be disgusted or upset with his lack of attention to his body. baggy clothes were his go-to.

• johnny knew you didn't properly notice, instead assuming he was going through a wardrobe change and trying something new. but, upon checking his walk-in closet, you didn't notice any new clothes.

• the two of you were getting ready for a dinner date out, johnny opting for one of his larger button-ups and flowy pants. as he faced the mirror to don the shirt, your padding footsteps were down the hall and quickly approaching.

• he couldn't just slam the door on you, what an asshole he'd be, but he didn't want you seeing his bare stomach and the way the pudge poured over his belt buckle. johnny tried pulling the pants up further, but instead ended up looking like a fumbling idiot as you finally walked into the bedroom.

• you were already ready, always earlier than your husband - he was the diva, not you - and you leaned against the doorway, whistling at the side-view he provided.

• "hey there superstar," you coo, looking him up and down. johnny feels hot. "looking good, my love."

• "thanks, sugar," his voice is strained, upset as he fumbles with the belt. "i think my belt shrunk in the wash."

• you give him a funny look. "you're not throwing your belts in the washer, are you?"

• he whines, flopping his arms to the side and looking at the ceiling with a huff. "no, it's not fitting right. i think i've gained weight."

• "i know," you nod, walking over to him and hugging him from behind. "i don't care."

• "you don't?" his voice is gentler, softer. "i do."

• "why?"

• "because i don't look like johnny cage," he moans, tugging at his shirt. "i feel awful. i wasn't training, i drank, i've been just... lazy."

• you're quiet for a while before you open your mouth to reply. "i think you look like johnny cage," your voice has a concealed playfulness to it. "i mean, you're who i married, and you still have my favorite parts."

• "what's that then?" he frowns. "if not my muscles."

• you trail your hands around his body as you face him, tearing his gaze away from the mirror behind you. your eyes can't help but trail across his features with a warm smile, struggling to pick the first thing you could.

• "your nose," you begin, getting on tippy toes to kiss it. "i like the shape. strong, charming.

• "your eyes," you place fluttering kisses, just barely on his lashes. "warm, they're expressive and you have a cute puppy dog look."

• "your hair," you run your fingers through the silky locks, scratching with your nails ever so slightly against his scalp. "you take good care of it, it's soft and cute when you wake up in the morning."

• "alright, alright," he giggles, pushing you away by your hips. "i get it."

• you pout at him, crossing your arms. he chuckles and pulls away, stepping back. you point behind him, to the bed. he raises his hands in a surrendering motion and plops his butt onto the sheets.

• you're quick to climb onto him, kicking your shoes off and straddling his lap. johnny's hands instinctively fall to your outer thighs, supporting you as you sat on his own.

• "you're sweet to me," you continue, hands on his face, ever so slightly kneading at his cheeks. "you're handsome, you're charming, you know what you want and you strive to get it, you're creative, you're brave, i mean, nobody else could've done what you did back in sun do. you saved the timeline. i'm glad you did, or i wouldn't be here with you."

• "it wasn't just me that saved everything," he protests, but not entirely denying your reassurance. "we had ninjas, fire gods, monks-"

• "ah-" you put a finger to his lips, his eyes widen in surprise. "but you were there. you gave kenshi purpose, you had that stupid, stupid drone, you cheered everyone up, you looked out for others. only johnny cage did that."

• he grins lopsidedly, scanning your face in admiration. "you're such a sweetheart."

• "because you deserve it," you kiss the tip of his nose. "and for the record, you're cute with a little tummy."

[spidergutz-writes]

What are some fluff hcs that you have for any and all of your handsome boys?? How would you spend a day with them? What are dates each of them would take you on?

meadow! Your spoiling me with all these delicious and amazing ideas!!

I’ll actually probably make this in 2 or 3 parts just so I can fit all mah bois :) (if requested, I will also add in some of my favorite gals!)

RED GUY:

Hand holding to the max!!

could be watching the most horrific thing unfold infront of him, and his hand would still be slotted in with yours

making dinner? He’s holding your hand.

watching tv? He’s holding your hand.

sleeping? Yup, he’s holding your hand!

he's a very shameless person when it comes to the softer things in your relationship

will not hesitate to pull you into his lap for cuddles.

also won’t hesitate to cling to you on every part of the day.

your cooking? Well so is he, now.

he loves cooking with you. It’s just so…normal.

normality is not something he experiences a lot, so even when you two are doing simple and mundane things, he enjoys it to the fullest :)

bro's sense of humor is so bad, but it gets to the point where it’s so ungodly terrible, that it becomes funny.

“Hey...what do you call a prisoner walking downstairs?”

“i dunno..What do ya call 'em?”

“..a CONDESCENDING… :D”

he thinks he’s funny, so please laugh :((

dates include him and you cooking a dessert of some sort.

his favorite is making apple cobbler pie with you :3

often you’ll end up with flour hand prints on your ass and some whipped cream on your nose.

he's just a silly guy doing silly things with his ooohh sooo silly partner!!

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

JIN BUBAIGAWARA: (what? He dies? No. No he doesn’t. Not here. He lives. That’s the reality we have here. Deal with it. Go argue with the wall idc.)

my sweet sweet baby boy. Where should I start?

okay, before he overcomes his trauma:

Took his mask off infront of you once, and now he can’t stop.

hes addicted to how you kiss his scar

how you coo at him and tell him he’s so handsome 🥺

Will fight for you if it’s serious. He’s still scared he’s a clone :((

will stand up for you tho

anyone says anything bad about you? He’s cursing them out while his alter ego is making weirdly terrifying threats.

”YOU GOT SOMETHING TO SAY, HUH?” “I hope you sleepwalk into oncoming traffic...” “DONT YOU FUCKIN SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY PARTNER” “I hope everyone you love leaves you.…”

Dates consist of you two sitting on top of rooftops while having a picnic. Talking shit, cuddling, and eating.

you two end up falling asleep in each others arm a lot, admiring the sunset or the moon.

he is a human heating pad. Like seriously. You don’t need a blanket when he’s around

Loves lying on his back with you laying on his chest :)

is a little shy :(

Thinks you don’t want others to know you two are a thing :(((

but when you hold his hand in public or in front of the league? He melts.

When you first kissed his lips over the mask in public? He cried a little

tears of joy :)

can’t cook for shit. That man burns water.

don’t ask me how, but you tasked him to make breakfast one morning, and a fire broke out.

there was also mayonnaise on your ceiling. Again, don’t ask, not even he knows.

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

Simon Riley "Ghost" (this motherfucker doesn't die either. if anyone tells me otherwise, meet me at the Arby's parking lot at 6, BECAUSE I WILL FIGHT YOU)

oh my lawdy lawd. he is just SO FINE, WHERE DO I EVEN START??

this man has issues. he's really touch starved, but doesn't know how to accept any light touches.

he might shy away from your light advancements, because he's so used to any physical bringing harm or ill intent towards him.

but when you kiss his cheek, and hug his (slutty) little waist, he folds like a lawn chair on a hot summer day.

will scream, cry, throw up, roll on the ground, and promptly die if you ever serve him tea in a bowl (the French do this.)

likes to go to the gym with you. he loves to see you work out iykwim.

Ghost has never been a man for soft things, but he Isn't Ghost with you. With you, he's Simon Riley, a man who longs to have a sense of normalcy, a man who wants to take you out to nice restaurants, and a man who wants to bend down on one knee for you, and ask that burning question that lays in the back of his mind 24/7

he wants to do all of those things, but its going to take time. his insecurities tell him you deserve a man who can do more for you, but as always, you wash those thoughts away for him.

for now, his dates consist of concealed places, like the safety of either his, or your home, where he can take off his mask, safely. sitting, watching movies, drinking wine or scotch, and cuddling.

He's a big advocate on "actions speak louder than words" so he doesn't say "I love you" too often, but when he does say it? you better get the tissues. because he only says it during a really vulnerable moment of his, like when he's calming down from a PTSD induced flashback, or a panic attack, or when its late, in the middle of the night, when he knows its just him and his demons awake, with you sleeping soundly in his arms.

believe it or not, THIS MAN CAN COOK-

listen, i know he's British, and i know he's in the military, but that man just radiates "I'll make you a five star meal before i snap your neck"

he is a god when it comes to making steak. give him a basic ass steak, some spices, and a few other side ingredients and he'll give you a true taste of heaven. A taste of heaven from a man from hell.

we love him all the same though <3

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

holy fucking hell this took WAY too long, and I took some extra time on Ghosts.

as always, any type of constructive criticism is appreciated, no matter how harsh or small it is <3

[elegantmusicdragon]

Adventures in Bravo-Sitting

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Babysitter!Reader (f!Reader probably? Can be gn!Reader for now)

Rating/Warning: Just some language! Words that rhyme with certain swears. Me being a menace. You know how it goes.

A/N: Okay so this is for @blueeyesatnight who just went a on a Dieter/Babysitter journey with me and inspired me to crank this fic out in two days. Haven't written a fucking thing except a fic I won't post and THIS. Blue, you're the best and Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas (if you celebrate) and thank you so much for the inspo! Our Dieter/Babysitter thread is my favorite thing and also if you wanna write some of these two or your own version PLEASE DO IT. I encourage it! Much love to you.

To anyone else who may read this: thanks for sticking around and checking this not beta'd dumpster fire. I have no clue what this is. It came out of my brain and onto the page in a frenzy. But it's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine. Enjoy! And Happy Holidays!

You are terribly confused. 

"We know this is highly unconventional." 

Well, that's putting it mildly. 

"In all honesty, I've seen weirder." A nightmare child smearing his feces all over the baking appliances and a cake his mother had made takes the trophy as of now. Though this situation is a close second. 

The woman, Amanda, smiles at you - relief flooding her features. She readjusts herself on the ridiculously fancy chair she's sitting on. Behind her, a small cluster of people in suits and business skirts gather. And between Amanda and the group? A man. Well, not man. Celebrity. A celebrity who seems to be grumbling something close to the words “ducking shooshes”.  

You never thought you'd end up babysitting Dieter Bravo but, you guess, things could be weirder. 

"Can I just...ask...um...why does a grown man need a babysitter?"

Dieter rolls his eyes and cuts in, "I don't." 

Amanda talks over him, "I'm sure you've seen the...incidents...on the Cliff Beasts set." 

You nod. "Absolutely, who hasn't? A drug overdose, quickie marriage, annulment - all within the span of a year. And the giant bender in Vegas with the showgirl last month? It's been all over the news." 

Amanda nods, tension lining her face. Behind her, Dieter rolls his eyes again. 

"It wasn't that bad." 

Amanda finally graces Dieter with an irritated glance. Her voice raises slightly, “Not that bad, Dee?? You almost destroyed the MGM Grand’s lobby, casino, and the penthouse suite you were staying in! That showgirl almost lost an eye!” 

Dieter rolls his neck back to face the ceiling, “Yeah, but she didn’t. She was fun,” he chuckles. “Liked to party. We still got her number?”

You see a vein throb in Amanda’s forehead. You’re not quite sure if you should butt into their conversation. Amanda grips the planner she holds so tightly, her knuckles begin to turn white. 

“No, Dee. We don’t have her number. You know, since she ALMOST LOST AN EYE??” 

Dieter sighs. “Oh my god, she was fine. It was safe. I was totally able to handle that machete. That lobby guy was just scared.” 

You raise an eyebrow. 

Amanda fires back, “He was the manager!!! And you were swinging a machete at one of his showgirls!” 

“I wasn’t gonna hurt her, god it’s like you think I’m irresponsible or something.” 

Oh god what have you gotten yourself into???

You reach down and attempt to subtly get your belongings. You’ve decided you want no part in…whatever this is. To your utter disappointment, you’re apparently not subtle enough. Amanda’s eyes dart to where your hand is resting on the strap of your bag. Her eyes widen just a fraction in desperation. 

“I know we’re not giving the best impression here. But I promise, this is going to be a very rewarding experience. Dieter is special!” 

She had said that on the phone too, but it was your fault you had misinterpreted it. Dieter clearly is special just…not in the way you were expecting. He’s special in a super-fuckin-entitled-wealthy way. 

You swallow and your eyes dart to Dieter, who hasn’t looked at you once since this whole meet and greet started. 

“Listen, Amanda, I’m really flattered that you and your…” You peter off, realizing the entire group of people behind her are now listening to you basically say no to this insane job. Are they really surprised you’re not interested in this? 

You clear your throat and continue, “team…want me to do this. I just don’t quite think I’m what you’re looking for.” 

Amanda looks behind her at a gentleman in a neatly pressed suit. He leans forward and whispers something in her ear. She nods, and turns back to you. Dieter remains absorbed in the ceiling. 

“Alright,” Amanda starts, “how about I show you what your pay would look like and we’ll take it from there? Maybe we could do a trial run if the amount is to your liking?” 

Dieter snorts. “It’ll be to her liking, I’m loaded.” 

Amanda rolls her eyes. Despite that, she keeps her focus on you. “Well?” She asks. 

You sigh. You know you’re caught between a rock and hard place. Money? Or no money? Well, even if this job isn’t what you necessarily thought it would be, it couldn’t hurt to look at the amount. Why the hell not? 

You shrug. “Sure,” you reply back to Amanda. “I guess looking at the number can’t hurt.” 

She smiles and nods, turning to confer with the gentleman behind her again. They whisper to each other for a few minutes before Amanda turns back to you. 

“Okay! I just want to clarify that we’ll be starting with a trial run of a week. If just you, or both you and Dieter-” 

He snorts at his name. Amanda studiously ignores him and continues on. 

“Are interested in keeping this arrangement going, we’ll re-discuss and go from there. Is that amenable to you?”

You nod. “Sounds good to me.” 

Amanda smiles widely, looking truly relieved for the first time since you stepped into the room. 

“Great!” She replies. She reaches behind her to grab a small piece of paper from the suited gentleman (who is he???) and hands it over to you. You surreptitiously glance over at Dieter. For the first time, you find his eyes on you. You shiver slightly. His eyes sparkle with…something. 

You look back down at the folded piece of paper in your hands. You’re more nervous than you thought you’d be. You open it slightly and see the number written down.

WOW that’s a LOT of zeroes! Holy crap. 

You look at Amanda.

“Trial run it is.” 

P.S. Banners by @firefly-graphics

Tags:

@grampsgirl14

@apsiringghostmusicians

Anyone else want a tag? Lemme know!

[itskattkm]

New York New Rules Pt. 4

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut, mental health, blood

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Sorry for bad writing. I'm using a translator and hope you guys can enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a slow burn

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,

I'm 11 minutes away and I have missed you all day

I'm 11 minutes away, so why aren't you here?

I think I missed you callin' on the other line

I'm just thinkin' all these thoughts up in my mind

Talkin' love but I can't even read the signs

I would sell my soul for a bit more time

You stain all on my body like you're red wine

You're the fuckin' acid to my alkaline

Stupid. Frail. Perplexed. Fearful. Offensive. Sharp and Hurt

„Y/N you rather feel nothing again" I said to myself as I stared at the ceiling of my room. I've probably been lying here for 15 minutes because 11 minutes ran at least three times in a row. In fact, this was one of my favorite songs. But why actually? I know that I have a feeling for the darkness. But why were pain and suffering so self-evident for me? No matter which movie I watched or which series. My darling was always the villain.

There are really people who just hate them because they have the title of villain. But why are they trying not to understand? What about Katherinen Pierce from the Vampire Diaries? This woman suffered and that only because she wanted to be loved and loved? She lost her family. Her child and was hunted for centuries. The man she loved hated her and didn't believe that the love between them was real. Maleficent... rejected and hunted because she was different? Kylo Ren, Star Wars... who let a big wait on his shoulders... not to forget that Luke wanted to kill him. Wanda Maximof... one of my favorites. What was wrong with creating your own world in which you could be happy? Especially if you had lost everything you had left.

Was I the evil one? Did I want to be the bad one? Sometimes I'm not sure but the feeling I felt when Tara looked at me and asked where I was during the attack... I won't forget this so quickly because at that moment I felt like one of the bad guys. But I also felt misunderstood.

Did Tara hate me? How did Tara think about me in general? Since I've been friends with Mindy, I've met her maybe five times. And we didn't talk much to each other. Most of the time our conversations were about the university. I tried to get closer to her. However, I always had the feeling that I was always failing with her. One second I thought I had full self-confidence but then a look into Tara's eyes and my brain shuts down. I had really never felt something like that before. Especially not towards a woman.

I always stayed away from relationships or physical contacts. As soon as it went in this direction, I always pulled back and hid in my bubble. However, there were days when I would have liked to go to the next bar with my dirty thoughts and have been looking for someone for a hot night.

But as I had analyzed myself so far and with the help of Dr. Stone, I knew what my problem was.

The music in my headphones stopped. I looked at my cell phone and saw that my alarm clock that I had set after talking to Sam was now active.

Should I? Shouldn't I?

"Fuck it," I said to myself and made my way to the Blackmoore. I would prove to them all that I am not Ghostface and if they do not meet me then I will also permanently delete these people from my life.

Slowly I played with the ring on my finger. It wasn't special. I didn't like fancy jewelry either. But this ring carried good memories with it and that's why I always wore it with me. When I saw the carpenters and their friends in front of the Blackmoore, I hesitated slightly. Everyone was sitting on the benches of the university and Mindy seemed to be holding a monologue. She was the only one standing in front of them and gestured around like crazy with her hands.

"Why am I doing this to myself?" I asked myself desperately and approached the group. Drier than I thought, I said "hi" when I entered the inner circle and drew all attention to me. There was a free place next to Quinn, so I sat down with her just as she opened her mouth but Tara was faster and said "you came?" I avoided her gaze and looked coolly at Mindy who looked at me with pinched eyes " Y/N Perfect timing..."

Mindy went to explain the rules and that we were in a franchise. I really famous myself to listen to her, but the voice in my head was too loud.

Don't look at Tara. You must never look her in the eyes again. Is she looking at you? Are the others watching you? Do the others know what happened at the police station? Do they know about my state of health? Did they thought I was Ghostface?

"Am I gonna die a virgin?"

Wait a minute? My full attention was back. I looked at Ethan and then at Mindy.

"Weird overshare but that brings us to our current suspects. Ethan! A shy dorky guy who no one suspects because he's so shy and dorky"

So I wasn't the only suspect? I felt a slight feeling of relief.

" Quinn! The sexy sluty roommate"

Quinn looked at Mindy slightly irritated

"Sex positive but thanks?"

"How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" She asked but Sam answers "we put an anonymous ad online"

And Tara replied "and her dad is a cop"

Mindy took a step towards Tara and said in an aggressive tone "and that makes it more likely that she is the killer because having a cop that is a great cover! Do you not remember how this movies work Tara?!"

Now Mindy gave everything. That reminded me too well of the many discussions we had about movies. Then Mindy even suspected her own girlfriend. Like wow… this whole thing was really serious.

"Never Trust the Love interest..." she said coolly and her look was serious. Suddenly there was a tension in the group. That sounded pretty deep... I mean in the first stab film it was also the love interest, among other things.

"Y/N!" Mindy called and smiled at me dirty. I sighed, pinched my eyes briefly and looked away from the group but Mindy came one step closer to me. "my dear friend Y/N... you are also new to our group," she began.

Did she say group? What did she mean by that? Was I part of the group?

"As your best friend, I know that you are going to therapy"

Oh no Mindy, please don't. Not again. Not again. Why me? Why?

"But you never told me why you are going to therapy... would you share the reason with us?" I avoided her eyes and looked nervously at the floor. My heart was beating so fast that I felt the pulse pounding in my ears. Again I played with the ring in my finger "Mindy she doesn't have to tell us anything..." said Tara after a short silent, low-key.

Surprised, I looked at her and our eyes met.

Relief. Relief? RELIEF!!! The first word that went through my head. Did Tara just defend me? Why had she done that? And there she was again. This gentle darkness, and the little white lights, like a light at the end of the tunnel that rested me to tell me here you are safe.

Stop it. I tore my eyes off her and stared at my ring. "okay then tell us at least where you were during the attack..." I looked at Mindy "home... and you are welcome to ask Maria when I entered the building and when I left it last. As I know her, she can even tell you the exact time" Mindy nodded in agreement to me, she knew Maria "okay. Good alibi. Nevertheless, you are suspicious. You don't like to socialize and maintain the good girl, reading books and sitting at home image"

Confused, I looked at Anika, was that something good or bad?

Anika said "that's not fair, if then we are all suspects, including you"

Mindy agreed with her and said to Sam "especially Sam" confused I looked to Sam, I had the feeling of not knowing something and because of the looks of the others I could see that I was right.

After that, I turned on the conversations of the others and tried to look at everyone unobtrusively. I started with Quinn. Quinn's emotions were neutral in order not to be completely present. Anika seemed very calm and attentive. Sam seemed tense. Chad hmmm I don't have to worry about him, he was fully focused on taking notes. I wanted to skip Tara and see Ethan directly, but our eyes met. Had she been watching me? After not even a second, I broke off the look of contact again by looking at my ring. Suddenly Quinn got up, then Anika moved to Mindy. The group disbanded.

"We have to stay together, that's the only way we are safe and can rule out who the killer is," said Mindy, "you could all come to us" said Sam and now also stood up.

Did she mean me with everyone, too? How exactly did they think of all this here now?

Confused, I asked her as if I hadn't even been present at Mindys Monologue "I don't… wait, I don't look through. What's the plan now?"

Chad replied when he got up "we're going to Sam and Tara... stay together... and try not to be killed" he didn't give me more information when he left. Chad, were you serious? Confused, I looked after the others when they were almost gone.

And then I suddenly noticed a person next to me. Before I could turn around, there was a hand on my right forearm. And then I was back in the tunnel... tried to get to the light. "Come to us tonight and we can tell you everything," Tara whispered to me, slowing down my nervous pulse. I could listen to her for hours when she talked to me like that. It was so reassuring. Warm. Pleasant. Right.

Her eyes fell on Sam when she nodded in agreement with Tara "maybe you can bring another pizza right away," she said and slightly raised the corners of her mouth. Tara pressed my arm slightly and looked at me at with bright eyes "by the way thank you for the pizza... after this hangover I needed it".

What was that feeling at once? Joy or nervousness? I had to smile unconsciously and nodded "special wishes?"

Tara snapped her finger and began to list different toppings and looked at Sam to see if she agreed with her "The main thing Jalapeños... registered" I said and stood up. "You have our address?" Sam asked again and I nodded in agreement. She raised the corners of her mouth again before putting her hands in her jacket and set off. Tara followed her.

Before my brain realized what my body was doing, I grabbed Tara's hand and hoped she would turn to me again

"Why did you help me earlier?"

And again this pure placid and sweetness to recognize in her face "what happened in the police station was just fucked up" we both had to laugh about her word choice and Tara's dimpels came to light.

Damn, how could Tara be so beautiful?

Okay, pull yourself together Y/N! How was that again with Tara? Never looking into the eyes again? Now I just wanted to sink into them and that even though I could never keep eye contact. Simp

"And I wouldn't want that either... if I imagined that someone would have done that to Sam..." she looked back briefly to the her. Sam stood a few meters away from us and waited for Tara "and see that as a leap of faith Y/L/N... don't spoil it" dryly I laughed and shook my head "I wouldn't even have a good motive" she squeezed my hand briefly.

Did we hold our hands all the time? How could I miss that? I mean... with this face you forget everything, she gave me a grin with sharp eyes and whispered "but there's always a motive" and then she disappeared.

[themsource]

Crime N(ever) Pays

Rating: M Pairing: UF!Sans/Frisk TW: Smoking

Sans frowned as he searched a pocket of one of the many basketball shorts littering his bedroom floor, his crimson colored eyelights glancing up at his ceiling with growing irritation as he dug around only to feel a few crumpled receipts and random G lining the inside.

“ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me…” He grumbled as he threw the shorts down and went over to his dresser to search his barren sock drawer.

And of course, even that was empty too.

He slammed it shut. “the fuck does a guy have ta do to get a damned smoke around here!?”

Sighing, Sans ran a hand over the top of his skull. He could have sworn he’d bought more than one pack last week, three at most the last time he’d gone out shopping on his day off, but from how it was looking he hadn’t.

Unless he was finally losing his mind.

of course i’d lose my marbles after gettin’ out of the underground… just my fuckin’ luck…

Letting out a huff he stomped out of his room, not bothering to hide his frustration as he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. Predictably his brother’s voice echoed out from the kitchen as he made his way grumpily down the stairs, “DON’T SLAM THE DOORS! I JUST REPLACED THE FRAMES!”

Sans rolled his eyelights as he ignored him.

“i’m goin’ ta the store! be back in a sec!”

“DAMNIT SANS, DINNER IS ALMOST READY! I SWEAR IF YOU AREN’T BACK IN TEN MINUTES I’LL—”

The rest of his brother’s diatribe was forgotten as it faded in the background, Sans’ eyelights honing in on and dilating as they locked on Frisk seated on the couch. She’d come over to spend the weekend with them as was tradition since they came topside six years ago, the skeleton brothers being her second favorite friends to visit aside from Alphys and Mettaton, and she never missed a visit much to Sans’ amusement and Papyrus’ joy.

But the fact she was there wasn’t what drew the older skeleton brother’s attention.

It was what was dangling from his lips, piping red at the tip as it burned crisp and hot before a gentle plume of white smoke drifted up into the air.

At first, Sans was shocked.

Ever since she turned eighteen Frisk had been trying more daring things and sampling more questionable vices, experimenting, as all teenagers and young adults should. However seeing her dare to do that in his and Papyrus’ house was mind blowing. 

Frisk knew how Papyrus could get, he didn’t like anything questionable going on in his home, especially one of the habits he found the most deplorable: smoking. Sans actively had to make sure he stepped outside every time he wanted to light up. It was the very reason he’d even built their doorless balcony, as a place he could go without worry about upsetting his bro and to avoid being an open target for other monsters back when they were still a hundred feet in the dirt.

But then he quickly became amused as he smirked at her.

Sans went to make a cheeky comment about Papyrus’ latest gardening hobby and how that might tie into a pretty little plot with the Frisk’s name on it, before he narrowed his sockets.

There was a gold band with the MTT insignia on the filter.

…was that one of his cigarettes?

Frisk glanced up at him just as his eyelights flickered up, and their gazes locked.

A sweat drop ran the side of her cheek.

this little shit!

Well, she wasn’t so little anymore, in fact she was taller than him now by about an inch, but that didn’t change the fact that stealing his smokes was such a bratty move he wanted to literally bend her over his knee and spank her.

…his eyelights drifted down to her small chest, perky beneath her sweater dress despite its modest size.

On second thought, doing that probably wouldn’t have been the best idea. He knew the moment he felt any supple part of her press against him he would more than likely try to push the envelope. It was no secret how attractive she’d gotten or well developed. 

Sans was a man, a skeleton monster, but still a man, and he’d noticed a long time ago now before many others had, the surprising and captivating changes Frisk had gone through.

Admittedly, he couldn’t help still feeling tempted to teach her a lesson though. One in a way that he knew he would enjoy the longer he stared at her and took in her beautiful figure and increasingly worried and guilty expression.

While Sans was feeling more and more tempted, Frisk was becoming more nervous.

She didn’t like that cold and calculating look in his gaze.

“is that mine?” He drawled, his voice a dark and menacing pitch as his eyelights gave a soul piercing pulse of maliciousness with how they brightened and dimmed.

Frisk instantly regretted her actions.

She hadn’t seen that look since the underground when they’d first met, his voice harsher and words acidic.

Truth be told, Frisk hadn’t wanted to steal his cigarettes, but she’d been just so curious to try them, and she’d known both Toriel and Asgore wouldn’t have allowed her to buy them when she was just seventeen.

‘It’d only be one cigarette’, she’d promised herself back then, and then one had turned into two, and then three. Before she knew it she’d been stealing Sans’ packs on the regular and had developed a habit by the time her birthday rolled around a week later.

Not a habit really… she didn’t smoke every day, maybe twice a week, but she did start hoarding when she did take them.

And this time she had to admit that maybe she’d been a bit too greedy, otherwise Sans wouldn’t have come down so unexpectedly to go get more and seen her. She knew this was typically when he’d be out on the balcony, he always went for a smoke before dinner, and she’d ruined the nightly ritual.

Five minutes was all she usually took, and apparently all she needed to get caught.

It was just bad timing that Papyrus was currently in the middle of having the bathroom cleaned and she’d been forced to try and sneak it in the living room while the younger brother stopped to make the evening meal.

Frisk would've gone outside to smoke, but she knew that she’d have gotten busted for trying to go out in the snow based on suspicion alone. The brothers knew she hated the cold. It was why she always wore sweaters and the like.

She swallowed thickly the longer Sans pinned her in place with his glare. Frisk did NOT want Sans to get angry. He still scared her to this day with his temper even if it wasn’t nearly as bad as all those years ago.

“U-um…” She pulled the cigarette away, trying to speak through a lungful, “Sans I—”

Frisk didn’t get a chance to speak and explain herself.

Sans was across the room in one moment, and right in front of her the next, his hand cupping her chin. 

Right before he leaned in and captured her mouth with his.

Frisk jolted, the ridges of his grin coming down to lock with her lips in the facsimile of a kiss as he held her in place and pried her pliant lips easily apart with his tongue in a single brush. A whimper almost slipped out but died where it rose within her filled chest.

He stole her breath, literally.

Sans gently drew the air from her lungs, as if a caress, with a single soft and deep inhale.

Frisk was frozen, her heart hammering as her cheeks flushed and her eyes opened to reveal their golden hues in stunned silence.

Sans’s SOUL gave a spine-tingling thrum at the sight. 

Frisk rarely opened her eyes, if ever. How she managed to navigate with them closed he never knew, and had often thrown it up to the fact that she carried more magic within her than the average human nowadays, allowing her to see without seeing.

Those honey colored irises did more to him than the kiss did.

He pulled back, his hand still cupping her chin as he brushed a gloved thumb along the side of her jaw and slowly blew out a breath, exhaling the smoke that’d been shared between them with another fiery pulse of his eyelights.

Sans' tone was rough, an octave lower from the tainted air with thickened accent, “shouldn’ smoke sweetheart, it’s bad fer ya.”

She was still frozen, locked in place like a statue, as he casually released her chin to reach down into her sweater’s right pocket and pulled out one of the two missing cigarette packs. With a glance he saw there was only one missing from it.

He was willing to bet she’d already smoked the other one.

With a hum he straightened and tapped the pack against his palm, causing one of the sticks to shoot up right before he plucked it free with his teeth as he pulled out his lighter and lit it. Sans took a deep drag and closed his sockets, savoring it.

It was relieving, but not as satisfying as it’d been when he’d stolen Frisk’s.

He glanced down at her as he blew out another billowing cloud through his sharp teeth. 

“stay away from my smokes, capiche?”

Frisk could only nod, her hands trembling as she looked down and timidly bit her lip.

cute.

“hey boss! c’mere, somethin’ i wanna show ya!”

Frisk jolted, and gasped in shock and betrayal as Sans took another drag and filled the air with more gray tinged vapor, before abruptly shortcutting to his balcony and leaving her to her fate.

“WHAT IS IT SANS—”

Sans leaned against the wall of the house and chuckled as soon as he heard the realization and offence in Papyrus' voice.

“FRISK! HAVE YOU BEEN SMOKING?! IN MY LIVING ROOM!?”

Sans glanced up at the starry sky as he listened to the chaos inside, his thoughts all circling back to how Frisk’s lips had felt against his. He secretly hoped she did steal another pack from him.

He welcomed her to try.

[yourlovingfng]

Through photos and codes.

Chapter two.

Soap×Photographer&HackerFem!Reader

"You think you'll make it out alive from here?"

"Better be, I joined to make a change after all."

You laugh, looking down at your third pint. "What a stubborn poor bastard you are, Johnny." You chug it down, the liquor burning the top of your mouth, lingering in your tongue, wetted and soft lips leaving the glass. He puts his elbow on the table, burying his face into his forearm, his hand grabbing his own neck, his eyes are fixated on you, while the other keeps a hold of his pint.

"So where will you be heading next?"

"Germany, Nürburgring."

"Your favorite, right?"

"Right on."

"Never understood why you love that track; the weather conditions are awful, and the track is a fuckin' death trap on its own."

You look down at your pint as if the liquid inside would give you an answer.

"Maybe I love it just as much as you love to be in this hell."

Silence. The two of you maintain eye contact for a few seconds.

"You always find a way to cage me up, huh?"

"I guess that's my specialty."

He deeply hums in agreement before speaking.

"I'm having a mission this week in the Pacific."

He doesn't look enthusiastic about it; he doesn't look at you while speaking. He's looking down at his empty cup, his iris getting smaller from the thought.

"Might just get a swim in this heat, ain't we now?"

You try to lighten up the situation. His eyes look up, seeking you. You smile at him; it's small, kind of a sign of reassurance, as if you're convincing him that everything will be alright and that the mission will be a success.

Silence brings the two of you together, sharing each other's presence, creating a comfortable ambiance for the two of you to take in. You pull your head up to look at the wood ceiling, eyes heavy with every blink you make.

"Are you going to drive me back home? 'Cause I'm wasted as hell, Johnny."

"Didn't make a backup plan about that, lass."

"Fucking great."

-----

Bering Strait,

It's the deep hours of the night; one part of the world is still asleep while another part is still awake, and some are waking up from their slumber.

Price light his cigar shooting a glare at him, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds, as if to say that he will be count on him on this mission, after all the CQB test went well and he even beat Gaz by a few seconds so he really doesn't need to feel this sense of drought but nonetheless it's seats in his stomach and mind swaying just like the loud waves underneath him.

In 60 seconds he's going to put on his gas mask, pull out his MP5SD and  rope down the main deck, that's the first objective to surpass, it reminds him of the days in the 3rd Battalion, he met you around that time,

Finally the ship is on sight, Price tosses out his cigar and everyone is focused on it , taking every small detail printed in their mind.

"Lock and load." Ten seconds pass.

"Green light! Go! Go! Go!" They all fast-rope down from the helicopter, landing on the main deck and outside bridge with crew members inside. The adrenaline is starting to kick in. Price is leading the team. Their objective is to recover a suspected nuclear device, which is hidden in a crate inside one of the ship's cargo holds.

Everybody on board that ship is hostile; no one needs to remain alive in there.

Soap follows down Price, checking both stairs and corners. Going down the first pair of stairs, they are met with a drunk enemy: "Пей на здоровь-" Yeah, not today, mate. Soap shot him down immediately as the rest of the team cleared the crew quarters quickly.

They proceeded to the freighter deck, and Soap is met again with the cold wind of the sea. Today the waves are high, and the sea is almost trying to devour the ship and bring it under the cold water that surrounds it.

"We got company."

Yes, we got company indeed, Gaz. Johnny thinks in his mind."Hammer Two-Four, we got tangos on the 2nd floor."

"Copy, engaging."

Hammer Two-Four sprays its minigun across the floor, killing all enemies to then proceeding to take off and head back to base.

It all feels like a fever dream, all of it, maybe something out from a game but there it went.

"Copy Hammer. Wallcroft, Griffen, cover our six. The rest of you, on me."

they get to the door.

"On my mark - go."

Price opens the door. They enter inside checking their corners! Moving ahead and clearing their path, taking the stairs to go down each time, sometimes even meeting a few enemies, They get stack up at a doorway on of the team peeks around the door, but moves away as hostile bullets almost hit him. Price throws a flashbang into the room. They move down again and engage hostiles spread throughout the compartment. They clear the room.

Gaz gets a radiation reading from one of the crates at the end of the room.

"I'm getting a strong reading sir. You might want to take a look at this."

Gaz opens the crate to reveal a nuclear device covered by an Arabic flag.

"Hmm… its in Arabic… Baseplate, this is Bravo Six. We've found it. Ready to secure package for transport."

"No time, Bravo Six. Two bogies headed your way fast. Grab what you can and get the hell outta there."

"Fast movers. Probably MiGs. We'd better go."

"Soap, grab the manifest in the container. Move."

There's rush in soap that makes his blood pump out faster than usual maybe it's the adrenaline from everything he grabs the manifest as fast as possible.

They begin to head out.

"Wallcroft, Griffen, what's your status?"

"Already in the helicopter sir. Enemy aircraft inbound…Shit! They've opened fire! Get out of there! Now!"

There's no time to look back as they are already running for their lives.

An explosion erupts in front of them, they all fall to the ground for a few seconds, cold water getting inside their vest, the ship is tilting, the MiGs have opened fire on the ship and there was not time to lose, every millisecond counted to save their lives, and not even one needed to go to waste.

"The ship's sinking! We've got to go, now!" Gaz tells him shaking his shoulder up for a brief second.

Johnny is trying to get up, but the water around him it's making the task difficult, the glass of the mask is a bit broken, a hand is placed in front of him and he doesn't even think, Price gets him up, he feels dizzy

Captain Price: "Big Bird, this is Bravo Six we're on our way out! On your feet, soldier! We are leaving! Get to the catwalks! Move move move!"

Everything in his body just tells him to run, there's no time for thoughts to process, there's is no time to look, all he has to do is just run to the Heli,

His view is slowed as if he just taking all in and nothing at the same time, escaping from the rising water that acts like a threat every instance, in his pocket all he has is the manifest he grabbed but that can be dealt with later, for now all he has to do is just survive.

Getting to the main deck of the ship, he's met with the cold wind, wide eyes searching the Heli, just to get out of this cold, wet hell; finding it in time, he jumps for it; he's losing his grip on the ramp. Gaz notices and frantically points at him. Price notices and turns around; he's rushing to grab him. "Gotcha! We're all aboard! Go!"

"Roger that, we're outta here. Baseplate, this is Big Bird..." The voices fades off his ears, the sound of the high waves swallowing the rest of the ship into the freezing cold sea water.

That was fucking close.

-----

You are shopping for a few new lenses for your camera in Oxford Street, the weather is cloudy, the street is full of people, so full that you almost feel clamped between the people passing, As they push or try to walk in the busy road, you make it halfway to the store, and while you are tryin' to go in the direction the store is, someone bumps into you, "Hey! try to-" While anger tried to take over, shock does instead, your breath leaves as your eyes widens to the scene in front of you,

"Oh, Sorry I didn't mean to..." The guy in front of you goes silent as his body becomes stiff seeing you; The guy in front of you is Jack, the two of you broke off a week ago, you got to know him because you and him worked for the same magazine, after seeing him a few times at the same circuits you decided to give it a shot, ...after all you two seemed to be a good match, helping each other out on multiple occasions, It was easy to fall in love with him, he was charming and was genuinely a nice guy, there was never a problem with him but when you started your work life got into the way,

Destiny it is then.

You two just share a soft smile, and wonder off to where you were before; once strangers then lovers to back to strangers again.

Love hurts.

---

It's time to get back to Hereford, you're on the train with your laptop on reviewing the photos you took in Silverstone, a notification comes from below, you respond to the sender "Sorry, in public right now, might text later if I'm available." you close the tab, but then another message came, you open it:

"We're thinking about starting the recruiting program, any thoughts? 

"isn't it too soon? and didn't i gave a scheduled date already?"

"i know but are you sure you don't want now? I'm just saying that it's seems like a good time to start."

"Just stick to the plan."

"Understood, thank you."

-----

You finally come home, putting your expenses on the kitchen isle you fall on the couch, staring at the ceiling you start overthinking about the happenings of this week,

You are tired.

You decide your better off working,

Opening the door to your small studio, you are met with a messiness

it warms you, you never really liked having a squeaky clean house, and not a complete mess of a house, in it's own way it is organised and clean.

Hopping to your chair you click the photos you took at the circuit, suddenly johnny pops up in your mind,

You too met at a circuit, you were sat next to him, engrossed on your camera trying to take the perfect shot of every car passing, until he interrupted you,

"ay that's a nice one."

Looking back you were met with those piercing blue eyes, his face looked softer then even when he was serious, it gave away a warmth.

Exhale

You take another breath reminiscing on the past, you would've never imagined at the time that he was trying to make it in the SAS, but there he is now.

Sometimes you can't understand him but at the same time you can, it's his life after all, not yours, but a feeling of worry still surrounds your heart.

You might be a bigger pawn than expected.

(hello, the writer here, so sorry for not being active being busy with school and various, I'll be writing as much as I can, thanks for the patience.)

[eggsploded]

for tthe character thing... spar eheathcliff thoughts perhaps

he hath been requested like... a billion times so here we go

initial impression: dude was a little scary like. he immediately kills sinclair right off the bat (-2) and clearly was ready to clobber everyone else if not for vergil. then the second flashbang of his translated cockney accent is so. i wasnt expecting projmoon to pull out the mingin

current impression: a standup guy if you can excuse his behavior 40 times in one day. he cares so fucking much for his favorite buslings (with many gripes attached) and its great to see him get drinking buddies after uhhhh whatever happens in wuthering heights lol. his input to being put in any situation ever is probably the thing im looking forward to most whenever they move location

favorite moment: i really love his dynamic with faust especially canto 4 when she starts actually listening to him and going wayment.. hes making some points actually. heath is right faust IS having a cromulent fuckcrustable of a day. theyre kinda a parallel to ryoshu and sinclairs translator duo and its fun. and now that yi sang is out there.. sangin hell have to play straightman (literal?) even more when buddy breaks into poetry over his daily sunlight enrichment. hey socrates its a fucking cookie, but he means it with love + another good moment is in hells chicken with meur where he successfully peels potatoes with a spoon and instead of getting chastised meur approves of this method and he just goes CLASS!!!

story idea: they should have a room with a bunch of pots for him to smash like link itd be good for him

fav relationships: i dont have any ships for him cuz of catherine or whatever but even then i dont really feel anything Romantical for the guy but DAMN is the bloke making enemies and chums. theres gregor which is like his undisputed favorite bus member not only because hes just a fuckin guy but he also happens to be comically small. despite caving sinclairs head that one time they have made amends and he calls him little lad now. outis is terrifying and begets respect and fearful awe. he and rodya are both outskirts food connoisseurs and can bond over a big fuckoff burger, a beer, and hyping up their boy greg. and briefly before canto 3 i like to believe he pointed out yi sang as the smart guy in the group as a petty slight against faust cuz she was looking down on him. theyre both cool now though. now for the most interesting part. heath and ishmael are CLAWING and MAIMING eachother. the beef is seriously crazy. but they both like meur so theres even more tension on the playground because that guys MY buddy. HE would drink with me (he has a cup of wine if he must) no he would drink with ME. theres claw and bitemarks on their bus seats. and meur does not do a thing, for he logged out long ago staring at the ceiling in perfect unmoving fashion. and he wouldnt choose to hang out with don first thing because its hard to not punch her, but he cant just not respect the huge joust action as a guy with a stupid large bat.

fav headcanon: i think hes got little reading glasses and pulls them out when theyre passing around the newest assignment or menu. hes more scholarly than actual schoolboy sinclair to me

[drabbles-mc]

hey hey!!! for the ask game you reblogged, i’m gonna ask 39, 54, & 55 🤓

looooove youuuu 🩷

oh heyyyy 👋🏻👋🏻💕

39- Share a snippet from a WIP: Ask and you shall receive! The way I have 3 untitled wips open on my laptop rn as we speak. 😂 This is from what is going to eventually be a Walt Breslin smutfic for the Narcos Alphabet. Have I written the smut yet? No! Have I written things happening before and after the smut? You betcha! 😂

He watched as you laid on the bed beside him, staring up at the ceiling as you blew smoke rings. You looked so pleased with yourself, bedsheet pulled up over your chest as you watched the smoke rise and then disappear. “That your party trick?” he asked. You laughed, turning your head to look over at him. “Hardly. My last partner, the one I had before I came down here, he taught me how to do it.” You took another drag off your cigarette, puffing out another ring for emphasis. “Too many hours cooped up in a shitty car on stakeouts with nothing better to do.”

54- What's your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?: Honestly, the brainstorming. I have so many fics that live only in my head, or in my dms with you, and I love them all so much. I feel like in the brainstorming phase there is nothing but possibilities and I love that so much! Some of my favorite fics, favorite ocs, have all come about because I got to just sit and rant and ramble and try to sketch everything out for disgustingly long amounts of time and it's truly my favorite thing in the world.

55- Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?: OOOOOOO this is a tough one. I really enjoy writing for so many different characters lmao. I will say, I think the characters I enjoy writing the most aren't necessarily the ones that people tend to flock towards. And I've worked very hard to not let that impact me too much or keep me from writing them regardless. I definitely go through phases, but I gotta say that I really just fuckin love writing for EZ from Mayans, Richie from The Bear, Steve Murphy from Narcos, and Walt Breslin from Narcos Mexico. Like. Those are just My Guys. No one can take them from me 😂😂

Thank you for these!!! Hugging you through the screen 🤗

Send me a fanfic writing ask!

[nissho-ku]

they say that love is when you can think of your favorite person's voice and never get tired of it. irregardless of if it's rin nagging at him, simply talking to him, or asking curt questions, even the sighs and moans he will have him play momentarily, shidou knows he will never tired of it. its like the gentle stimuli of listening to running water, the way his vocals sound to ryusei's ears. he'll never tire of the itchy, tingling feeling he has when listening to rin. it spurred him on from the moment they met; rin's cool way of speaking, his insults, his adoration especially. it made him crave how he sounds when he moans, when he sighs, when he's saying his name like a prayer as ryusei hits the deepest parts of him.

akin to one playing their favorite song on repeat; ryusei can say he is addicted.

ryusei never gets tired of hearing rin confess that he loves being filled with him. he groans at the praise, smiles crookedly as he attempts to keep his wits about him. to know that his lover is just as addicted to him as he is has ryusei delirious, sucking harsh possessive marks all over him. “gunna mark you everywhere. so deep in ya too,” he groans, pulling out more, driving his hips deeper. ryusei works his hips up more, skin slapping mixed in with his babbling; telling rin how good he feels around him.

his eyes are trained on rin's face. watching rin watch himself; watching as ryusei takes him apart slowly. he will let rin adore him for the time being, knowing how much rin loves doing so. rin is so sweet with the way he wants to return everything shidou gives him; he's so fucking lucky rin said yes to being his for the rest of their lives. he's thinking they should get a mirror installed on the ceiling of their home too with the suggestion rin brings up. that thought has his dick twitch right as he aims for rin's sweet spot. “yeah, don't worry baby,” ryusei pants, bites his lip. he gently angles rin's face back to the mirror. “no, no, don't focus on me yet. not right now. look at you.”

ryusei has a point to prove; he ups the pacing of his hips. ryusei crowds himself closer to rin, skin on skin and sleek with sweat; as he whispers hotly in his ear. “you drive me fucking insane, ya know that? you're so fucking hot, look at you falling apart on my cock. so fucking gorgeous; and i get to spend the rest of my life doing this to you,” ryusei grunts, snaking his arm around rin's waist. he's so far gone he doesn't know what he's saying anymore really. letting any and all his thoughts filter out of his mouth. “you're squeezin' me so tight. do ya like that, princess? you like bein' praised? you like hearin' about how much i love you? fuck- fuck, i can't wait to call you my husband. i don't see not a single thing wrong with ya in this mirror, nothin'. all i see is the man i get ta call mine every day from now on.”

“whatever ya see in this mirror right now, all of it, i love it all. i love you, rin. i love you; all of you. i love you so fucking much, shit,” ryusei swears and buries his face in rin's shoulder as his hips stutter. he can feel himself threatening to spill, the wave of emotions caving in on him. he can feel the moment coming to an end soon, and he doesn't want to go alone. his hand unravels from rin's waist, goes to fist his cock rough, and practiced. “ah shit, shit im gunna fuckin' cum. all inside you. gunna mark ya mine inside and out. come with me rin-”

for as possessive as ryusei is, rin could match that energy. the need to stake his own claim in him tonight, wishing they were already wearing matching rings as if their status wasn't already more than official. he wanted to leave a mark to let him know that he was there even while ryusei was rearing to be inside of him. but he promised to ryusei, he would let him take the lead, keep the car running until they meet their final destination. rin had always assumed he would have ended up alone, due to the fact that he despised most people. his curiosity when it came to ryusei was something to be noted, his brother had taken note, & despite how stubborn he was he knows that he wouldn't change how they happened.

in the end, ryusei is his future.

LOVE BITES were always a symbol of how much he was ryusei's, if it wasn't his neck, it was his thighs. rin's body is a canvas for ryusei to leave his own masterpiece for. rin groans as he feels the wetness of his tongue along his neck, shivering in anticipation with the thought of where they'll be in a few minutes. he picked up on as much when he feels his fingers towards his mouth & rin complies by opening his mouth. his tongue darts around ryusei's fingers, eyes are shut for a second as he imagine he's sucking his man's dick. he was always eager to do that for ryusei, a part of him loving the feeling of how the blonde fell apart with just his mouth. maybe it was his oral fixation that really showed his enthusiasm. he groans wishing he could have, but maybe he could surprise the other in the morning.

rin lets out a sigh as his fingers slip out before they find it's way towards his entrance. he relaxes in his hold, cobalt hues focused on his ryusei. he loved this feeling, although it was a quick prod considering their morning activities from today. he wanted that friction, the feeling of being full to the brim, & ryusei's fingers are only a temporary relief. his hips move a little meeting the rhythm of the fingers inside of him. he quickly bites his lip & he only voices temporary disappointment when he feels himself empty.

it doesn't last long & without another word rin bends himself over, ready to take all of ryusei's length. his arm snakes around ryusei's neck before tangling in blonde locks. rin lets out a grunt as he feels the head of ryusei's cock slip inside. his hold strengthens once shidou presses against his navel & the thought he's put in his head leaves him hungry wanting to be full of his fiance. ❛ i want that, i want to feel all of you, i love it when you're inside of me.❜ rin finally feels complete once all of him is inside.

rin has never been one for dirty talk, minus the spain trip where he indulged in sending ryusei nudes, sexting, & watching whatever was sent his way. he's always been quiet but he can find himself getting lost in the way ryusei was talking, he moves his hips back wanting to feel the heat between them rise even more. he's stopped once ryusei commands him to look at him. ❛ i'm looking at you.❜ rin's head dips back a little wishing he wasn't being teased with what he truly wanted. he intertwines their hands, the one that bears the symbol of their commitment to each other. a flush of his cheeks become more apparent at the compliments that ryusei wants him to believe, wants him to see for himself. ❛ i want more, i know you can give it to me,❜ he spurns ryusei with a coquettish gaze. he takes the moment to lean in & bite on of his man's ear lobes. ❛ next round, missionary because i want to stare into your eyes when you make love to me.❜

all he could ever want is ryusei.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

congrats on 3000! you deserve many more. your writing is amaaazing!!

can I request nathan and accidentally confessing feelings? he's probably drunk but I'll love whatever you come up with <3

Part of Youvebeenlivingfictional’s 3K Follower Celebration Thank you so much!!

Warnings: Drunkenness, sexual implications, Hamlet, cursing, Nathan™

“Guess what I did today.” You almost never can guess the answer to his slurred goading. You find yourself tipping your head into your hand, closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath. “What did you do today, Nathan.” “No, you have to guess.” Oh my god. You direct your gaze toward the ceiling, biting your lip. “Jerked off?” You ask dryly. “Besides that.”

You can’t help but grin, then. “Bought something you shouldn’t have?” “Yes.” “Animal, mineral, vegetable?” “I hate that, people aren’t animals.” “What a piece of work is man,” You recite as you yawn, “How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty—” “What?” “It’s Hamlet, you philistine.” “Guess.” “I mean you just implied that you bought people which is concerning—” “I bought a baseball team!” He crows through your phone. You wince, drawing it away from your face. When you lower it back to your ear, you hear him adding, “It’s a fuckin’—I mean, what else was I gonna do with that money?” “End world hunger?” “Pfft, boring.” Oh, my god. Bateman’s tipsy babbling continues, “You think if I build a stadium out here, people’ll show up? The whole…If you build it they will come, that bullshit?” “I mean—Hang on, did you get drunk and watch Field of Dreams?” “...Maybe.” Oh my god—

--

“Guess what I did today.” You yawn widely, scrubbing your hand over your eyes. “Nathan, I was asleep.” “So?” “So I answered because I thought something might be wrong.” “Well now that you’re up, guess.” You smile a little, rolling onto your side and balancing your phone against your ear before tucking your hands under your pillow. Your worry ebbs away and is replaced with the fluttering of a thousand irritating butterflies’ wings. “Mmmm…Got a new sybian?” “...No, but that’s what I’m doing tomorrow.” You snort. “Peed in the snow?” “No, that was yesterday. C’mon.” “Found a way to animate the mouth of a fleshlight?” “No, but I’m definitely doing that two days from now.” “Oh my—Just tell me?” “It’s no fun that way. C’mon, keep guessing.” “Are you going to hang up if I don’t?” “No.”

--

“I heard you were yawning through the board meeting.” “Well someone called me at three AM to tell me that he’d made progress in his work and kept me up until I guessed. Took damn near an hour.” “Who did that? He sounds like a dick.” You can’t help but smile a bit as you tip your head into your hands, scrubbing at your tired eyes. “What’re you calling me for, anyway? The sun is still up over here,” You tease. “I can call…You know, when I’m not blitzed. I mean, I have the ability.” “Clearly. You need something?” “No.” “...So…?” “I need to need something to talk to you?” “No, of course not.” “I can’t just dial my favorite executive?” “Clearly you can. You have the ability,” You tease, smiling as you rest your chin on your hand and eye your phone. You hesitate before pressing, “I’m your favorite?” “Don’t let it go to your head. Hey, what should I rename the baseball team?” “You’re not seriously going to rename the Dodgers.”

“Yeah, why not?” --

“Guess what I did today.” You roll onto your back, peering up at your ceiling. “I’m going to guess once and then hang up if I don’t get it. I need to actually sleep, Nathan.” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, then— “Do I bug you?” Your brow furrows a touch, and your eyes close as you try to parse through that. “Like…Do you bug my apartment? I know you listen to like…Everything that goes through these phones—” “No, not—” Nathan huffs on the other side, “I mean, do I piss you off, is this annoying?” You’re stunned that he’s asking at all. “I mean…I like sleeping. Sometimes these calls interrupt…That sleeping.”

“That a yes or no?” “Nathan,” You sigh, “I like talking to you—I honestly fucking love talking to you, I do. I love hearing about all of the crazy shit that you plan to do and what you buy, stuff like that. I love hearing about your days. I just…Also need sleep to function.” There’s a moment of quiet before you hear a mumble. “What?” You frown. “I love talking to you, too,” Nathan repeats, just a touch more loudly than before. Your stomach floods with warmth, and you grin, sinking back into your pillows. “Really?” You mumble sleepily. “Yeah. You’re my favorite exec, you don’t take my shit—though you do put up with my shit sometimes, you…You’re…” He goes quiet for a moment, “You’re fucking awesome.” “Nathan Bateman thinks I’m awesome. I’m going all gooey inside.” “Come on,” He groans, “I just mean that you don’t suck like other people do.” “Stop, please, my ego. Another compliment like that and my head’ll be too big for my pillow.” “I really like you.” “I really like you, too, Nate.” “No, I mean I—”

When he stops abruptly, you find yourself pushing yourself up in your bed. Your heart is rattling in your chest; your face is going hot. “...What do you mean?” You urge softly. “...Forget it.” “Nathan—” “Forget I said anythi—” “I don’t want to forget it,” You rush to admit. He goes quiet again, and you swallow thickly, adding, “Please don’t make me forget it.” He’s quiet for so long that you think he may’ve hung up. But: “Okay,” He mumbles, “Okay. Don’t forget it, then.” “...Will you say it?” “I really fucking like you,” Nathan sighs, “And I want you so bad. Fuck, I want you here. Will you come here?” “When?” “Now.” “Nate, it’s like two in the morning.” “I’ll send the jet and then the copter, you can sleep the whole trip.” “I don’t have anything packed—” “Good. I don’t want you wearing much when you’re here.” You laugh, pressing your hand over your eyes. “I’m not kidding,” Nathan adds, but he’s laughing a little, too. “Tomorrow,” You tell him, “I’ll fly out tomorrow, alright?” “Alright, I get it. You need time to pack your toothbrush.” “Uh huh. And maybe some soap.” “I’ve got soap.” “Just the toothbrush, then.” “Good. Fuck,” Nathan groans. You’re quiet for a moment. “Nate?” “Yeah. Yes.” “Promise you won’t regret this in the morning?” “I fucking swear.” “Okay. Send me the plane detail…Stuff.” “Alright. Be dressed for a hike.” “Jesus—alright.” “Good.”

--

“Guess what I did today.” It’s murmured against your shoulder blade as Nathan straddles your hips, grinding against your ass. “Mm. Fucked me?” You mumble, tipping your head back to eye Nathan. He crowds closer, brushing his lips to the corner of your lips. “And guess what I’m going tomorrow.” You grin, arching up against him and wiggling your hips. “More of the same, I hope.”

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844 

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

Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 

Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4” 

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!” 

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 

“That’s really good pat-” 

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 

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

“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched. 

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 

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

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

[blondiebarnes]

in the middle

summary: steve and bucky just got home from a tough mission, and you’re determined to make them feel good.

pairing: steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut! threesome, male & female receiving oral, established relationship, cumplay, basically just porn

word count: 6.5k

For the most part, you’ve gotten used to being by yourself when Steve and Bucky are on missions.

You don’t like it - not in the slightest - it goes without saying that you’d love nothing more than to go on missions with them when they’re called in the dead of night but it hardly, if ever, works out that way. They’re nearly always sent together (Fury says they balance each other out, and you’re not exactly sure you know why or how but you’ve learned to accept whatever your director says at face value) and you’re generally excluded from their missions. They get too protective, can ignore the objectives of a mission when you’re in danger, and it’s a sweet sentiment but you know it’s an issue, even if you appreciate it.

And you are used to it. Really, you are. It’s been a year of having them called off in the middle of the night, leaving you sleeping in bed with a lingering kiss to your forehead as you dip out the door - occasionally they’ll wake you up (usually Bucky, because he tends to be a bit more sentimental, though he’d never dare to admit it) and give you a proper kiss, but for the most part you simply wake up in a too-large bed that’s void of the two super soldiers sandwiching you between their warm bodies, and it never fails to feel any more jarring.

That’s what happened Friday. You simply woke up on a day like any other and they were gone, leaving nothing but ruffled covers and a small sticky note pressed to your cell phone in Steve’s scribbled handwriting, telling you that it shouldn’t last more than the weekend and we love you so much and a small smiley face that looks to be more of Bucky’s doing, but you can’t be sure.

It had been a long weekend.

Movies and books and making dinner, and work had been so slow recently with no new missions on the come-up that you need to be called away on, so you’ve been primarily holed up in your apartment watching the time tick by and waiting for your boys to come home. You’d even called Nick at one point, in your boredom, to inquire about how their mission was going, and he told you (paraphrased, of course) that they were doing just fuckin’ great and should be home by Monday, and Monday couldn’t have fucking come any slower.

You’ve been lying awake for nearly three hours since you settled into bed on Sunday night, covers pulled tight against your chin to protect yourself from the January cold that nips at your skin, even after you’ve set the thermostat to 71 degrees. Steve likes it cold - Bucky warm - you laugh at the irony of it, much to the latter’s chagrin - and you prefer it being right in the middle.

The TV plays on mute a rerun of some old movie you’ve never heard of, black and white film running rickety slow and glitching, though you’ve long since given up paying attention to it. You’d been on Pinterest for an hour before getting bored and plugging your phone in on your nightstand, and you’d begun flipping through one of Steve’s favorite books he loves to read to you sometimes, and now - you simply gaze at the ceiling in your boredom, fingers interlocked on top of your stomach, boredom settling in every crevice of your body.

You’re not sure what, exactly, you’re waiting awake for. Not even sure if you’re waiting or simply unable to sleep - it feels like a 50/50 situation, at least at the moment - but there’s still something inherently wrong with sleeping in bed without your boys. Curling into Bucky’s chest while Steve is pressed to his back, the latter’s hand wrapped around to rest on your lip while a metal hand slides up your shirt, cupping your breast just to hear the way you squeal at the chill - or, alternatively, sandwiching yourself between them as Steve practically throws his mass on top of you and Bucky squishes your face into his hard back.

Empty. You feel empty, in more ways than one, and that’s what’s keeping you awake, you decide after a long fifteen minutes of contemplating on it. Your boys complete you. It’s not right without them -

Just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the front door knob jiggling from across the apartment, and you jerk upright as though someone had doused you with freezing cold water (not that it would be much of an adjustment from the temperature your apartment feels, but the implication still stands.)

If you were smarter - or perhaps less groggy - maybe you’d dig through your nightstand for the gun you keep in case of any intruders, buried beneath notebooks and stray pieces of paper decorated with small smudged sketches that Steve puts on any smooth surface he can find. It’s loaded and ready to go - all you’d need to do is dig through and grab it, creep outside the bedroom door and take down whomever may be invading your home -

Just as you roll onto your side to dig through your drawer and find the weapon, the front door fully opens with a jingle of keys and the scuffling sounds of footsteps, and you pause, listening to the voices that roll through the apartment, hushed and breathy.

“Fuckin’ - tripped over my foot,” comes a familiar voice, louder than the one who follows right after him, murmuring for him to shut the hell up - are you trying to wake up the entire city? -

You’re out of bed faster than you can even process, covers mercilessly kicked to the very bottom of the bed in your haste. The hardwood is cold against your bare feet and the air bites at your skin, wearing nothing but one of Steve’s old t-shirts that falls to your mid thighs and a pair of lace panties that peeks out of the shirt when you bend over or reach up or do anything, really - it’s a bit of a scandalous look - but you pay no mind to it, opening the door and tearing down the hallway into the foyer.

You’ve smacked into a hard, thick body before you could stop yourself, arms thrown around Steve’s torso as you bury your face into his chest, and you can practically feel his deep laugh before you hear it but you do hear it, clear as day, and it brings a grin to your face that’s only deepened when Bucky tugs at your waist, pulling you into his back, arms wrapped around your stomach as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Fury said you guys wouldn’t be home until tomorrow,” you tell them, letting your body relax into Bucky’s embrace as Steve traces his fingers across your jawline, tilting your head up so he can press one light kiss to your puckered lips. His arms snake around your waist, sandwiched between your back and Bucky’s chest, fingertips clutching tight onto the loose fabric of the shirt you’re donning and he uses it as leverage to hold you closer to him.

“It was an easy one,” Steve replies, leaning forward just a bit until you’re fully pressed between the two soldiers, your head squished into his chest as he inhales the scent of your shampoo, nose buried into the top of your head. “Can’t believe you called Fury about it - missed us that much, hmm?”

A dry chuckle jostles the body behind you, feeling Bucky’s warm laughter against your neck, and you bite on your bottom lip as you nod. “‘Course I missed you - don’t get cocky -” for you’d just caught sight of Steve’s smug grin, toying his lips upward, and you use the top of your head to push him away from you in mock disgust, leaning further into Bucky’s grasp. He hums softly, breath ruffling your hair, messy from your failed attempts to sleep. “S’so lonely here.”

“Aww,” murmurs Bucky, lips pressing warm kisses into the exposed expanse of your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to give him easier access as Steve crosses his arms over his chest, watching the pair of you at work. “Poor baby.”

“Hey -” you reach behind you, running your hands through long, brunette locks just to feel the way Bucky smiles against your skin. “At least you two have each other on missions, getting each other off - I’m here all by myself. Nothin’ but the fingers.” “There’s a lot less time to get your rocks off in the middle of a mission than you’d think.”

“Is there?” you inquire playfully as Bucky’s lips trail further up your neck, landing on a spot just beneath your jawline and suckling the soft skin - the teasing lilt in your voice that you’d intended to sound confident and self-assured gets breathier and just a tad more pathetic as you continue, “Sam and I always seem to have enough time -”

Bucky grunts against your cheek, murmuring something you can’t quite make out about how he hates that fuckin’ bird boy, and a grin spreads across your face that mirrors Steve’s as he watches you. Bucky tilts your head to the side with two fingers pressed to your chin so he can ghost his lips over yours but you deepen it, pushing your face further into his as you wrap one of your arms around his neck, tugging at his hair to hear him groan into your mouth and you swallow the noise. You can practically sense Steve rolling his eyes both at your teasing and the way Bucky’s absolutely devouring you, the metal hand around your waist trailing up your torso and leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches your chest, cold fingers plucking at your nipple, and your chest arches into his hand with a broken gasp into his mouth.

“Better tell Sam not to touch what isn’t his,” Steve tells you, and you nod, watching the blonde take a few steps forward and for a moment you wonder if he’ll lean down, take your lips from Bucky’s and kiss you until you’re practically putty in his hands but instead he pushes past the both of you, disappearing down the hallway behind you, and you crane your neck backwards to watch his back as he vanishes around a corner.

For a moment you wonder if Bucky hadn’t seen him leave, continuing his ministrations on your nipples as his teeth bite at your bottom lip as though there’d been no interruption, his mouth turning up into a smug smirk at the way you whimper into his mouth. God, you’ve missed his touch, clever hands knowing exactly how to make you fall apart for him even without slipping into the lace of your panties, and your mouth opens in a silent gasp as his flesh palm presses to the skin of your stomach.

“Wanna go see Stevie?” the soldier questions into your mouth, voice low and sultry smooth, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Tough mission for him.”

You frown at that as Bucky pulls away from you, leaving one lingering kiss to the side of your throat as he pulls your shirt down over your lower half. “Thought he said it was easy.”

“It was,” and that makes your brows furrow as his metal hand wraps around your wrist, beginning to pull you down the hallway where your bedroom door is swung wide open. “But Fury ripped him a new one, ‘cause he disobeyed his orders - got the mission done fine - but you know how Stevie hates having his authority questioned.”

Your lips part in a silent o, and Bucky smirks ever so slightly before leading you into the bedroom where Steve sits at the edge of the bed, peeling off his suit and kicking it off of his ankles. Bucky shuts the door behind you, immediately working at tugging his vest over his head and you leave him to it, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor until you reach Steve, and you merely stand before him until he’s finished taking his clothes off, leaving him clad in only a pair of boxers.

“Do you need something?” Steve questions, glancing up at you with an amused glint in his eyes and you groan, lifting your leg up to straddle his lap, calves on either side of his, and his hands go to rest on the underside of your thigh like an instinct. For a moment you don’t say anything, grinding your hips down into his until his hands slide up your back, tugging your shirt up over your torso so he can press his cold palms to the globes of your ass, halting you in place. “Words, baby.”

“Want you to boss me around,” you tell him, dropping your lips to the side of his throat, and his dry exhale of a laugh blows at your hair as his fingers slip beneath the scrap of lace between your ass, fully digging into the plump skin, and you smile against his neck. “Missed you bein’ bossy.”

“Really?” You nod, feeling the bed dip beside you until there’s another set of hands on your body, tugging the hem of your shirt up until you’re forced to remove your lips from Steve’s neck so Bucky can pull your shirt off, littering it onto the ground beside you. Steve leans his head back as both you and Bucky lean forward, your lips to his throat and the other soldier taking his lips so that the next words he speaks are muffled into the kiss, “Sure Bucky didn’t put you up to this, baby?”

“Who’s Bucky?” 

That makes both of them laugh into each other and you smile, leaning back in his lap as you take in the sight of them - lips crashed together, metal hand burying itself in blonde locks that he hasn’t cut in a while, hair brushing the tips of his ears, and Steve’s hand that had been on your ass drops, seemingly forgotten about his job - you huff, wrap your hand around his wrist, and lift his palm up to rest against your left breast.

Instinctively he squeezes, and the two men pull apart from each other as Bucky leans forward to kiss the top of your head, flesh hand sliding down your stomach until he can push into the damp lace fabric of your panties, and you jolt against his hand as he brushes your clit. “Can’t possibly think we forgot about you,” he tells you, and you shrug, watching the way he smiles. “Come on, Stevie, you heard her - wants you to boss her around.”

And Steve is surely still doubtful of your intentions - it isn’t as though you’ve ever asked him to boss you around before - it typically just happens when he’s pissed or upset or happy -

It happens a lot. He’s a bossy guy, both in the field and out of it, and he’s more than happy to give demands and orders and he loves to see you follow them.

Bucky is - usually along for the ride. He’s the calming voice in your ear when Steve is edging you until you’re screaming, the gentle touch when you’ve been overstimulated for an hour, the smooth, sultry kiss when you’re being filled so deep from both ends you feel entirely numb - and he can be mean, too, metal hand tightening around your throat and smirking at the way you sob -

Well, it depends.

“Get on the bed,” Steve tells you, and regardless of whether he’s suspicious of you and Bucky his voice is already hardening and if the words weren’t implicitly sexual, perhaps you could fool yourself into thinking you’re on the field - you listen, though. You always do - swing your legs off of his lap and land on your back on the bed, watching as Steve stands and Bucky merely turns around, leaning back on his arms as he watches you, your leg hiked up to give a limited, tantalizing view to the lace covered pex of your thighs.

“Buck - wanna get behind our girl?”

The phrase our girl never fails to make your stomach flutter, and the feeling only intensifies as Bucky grunts in affirmation, crawling towards you, and with hands hooked under your armpits he lifts you to sit, your back pressed to his chest. Hands reach up to your chest, cupping your tits in flesh and metal palms that have a chill rolling through your spine, hips grinding back against the erection you can feel pressed into your back.

“Spread your legs,” Steve tells you, and you oblige, feet sliding across the bed to spread yourself as wide open as you can, and Bucky’s metal hand leaves your chest to grab onto one of your thighs, forcing it open wide enough that a burn spreads through your muscle. “Yeah - don’t fuckin’ move, baby - hold her down, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice, moving his other hand so he’s holding both of your thighs, and you can feel wetness dripping down your cunt onto the sheets as Steve stands still, for a moment, just watching the pair of you - your chest heaves and you can feel Bucky’s fingers twitch against your thighs, surely desperate to caress your tits just the way he always likes to, but he wouldn’t dare disobey Steve when he’s like this. You know it, and he knows it, and you’re sure Steve knows it too - he looks so smug, even as he climbs onto the bed, resting on his stomach as he presses his cheek into your thigh, warm breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers hook into the soaked material of your panties, feeling the stickiness that coats your folds and the undergarment, and with not a second of hesitation he rips them in half, tugging them off your leg and tossing the ruined scrap of lace onto the ground.

Your instinct is to reach down and run your fingers through his hair as he lowers his mouth to your pussy, tongue flicking once over your clit, but the second your hands jerk in their spot resting overtop of Bucky’s, Steve is reaching up - one hand manages to wrap around both of your wrists, holding your hands in place on top of your stomach with a grip so tight it’ll surely leave bruises that will darken in the morning.

You groan softly as Steve lifts his head, gaze hard and unforgiving as he stares at you, and then his gaze moves behind you where you know he must be having some sort of silent conversation with Bucky - they’re so good at that - before he’s leaning back down, teeth gnashing at your clit with enough force to make you jolt.

“Think Stevie said not to fuckin’ move, sweetie,” Bucky murmurs, lips sucking a dark hickey just beneath your ear, and a low whine escapes your throat as Steve’s tongue laps up your sticky folds before centering on your clit. “Didn’t you, honey?” And Steve hums in affirmation, pulling back to spit harshly at your clit, and you exhale skaily as you feel the glob of coldness trickle down your folds. “Move again, and I’ll punish you,” he tells you, which is more generous than he typically is when he’s in this state but you suppose the excitement of arriving home after a shitty, weekend mission must not have worn out yet. “Be a good girl for us, baby.”

You nod furiously, Bucky’s forearms hooking beneath your knees until the ache in your thighs nearly tips the balance of pain and pleasure but it’s still leaning towards the latter - more so as Steve dips his head back down, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub at your core that tears a moan from your throat, and you bite at your lips to try and silence the noises.

“Never told you to be quiet,” Steve mumbles against your cunt, vibrations from his voice sending a shiver up your spine, and Bucky smiles against one of the many hickies he’s leaving on your neck - you’re sure you’ll look a damn sight tomorrow, made of practically entirely concealer to hide the marks he’s obsessed with, but you don’t have it in you to stop. “Let us hear your noises - how good we’re making you feel.”

You drop your head back into Bucky’s shoulder with a desperate cry as Steve’s flexed tongue circles your clit before running back down your slit, parting your folds until he can slip his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out a few times, lips turning upwards at your resulting whine. Bucky’s nails leave deep, crescent-shaped indentations in the smooth skin of your inner thigh, and you can feel his erection pressed thick and swollen against your back. Surely he’s just as wound up as you are - and as much as Steve is, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed as though of their own accord - but he doesn’t do much of anything at all to alleviate the pressure, breathy exhales in your ear as your hips rub against his bulge.

“Wanna hold her open for me, Buck?” Steve questions, pulling back just a mere inch from your swollen clit before dipping his head back down, tongue licking a fat stripe through your folds before lust-blown blue orbs lift up to meet the ones behind you - you can feel Bucky’s hair, brushing against your cheek as he nods once, and your brows furrow in confusion. Surely he’s already holding you open, hands forcing your thighs so far apart that you can feel the burn in every inch of your body - and then he drops one of your thighs against the bed, metal hand trailing down to your cunt, and his fingers dip through your folds, spreading them apart and exposing your swollen clit further to the blonde between your legs. Steve adjusts himself, moving towards the side so he can press his face into your pussy without hitting Bucky’s fingers, and his tongue circles your clit once more.

You moan at the sight, nearly going cross eyed as you stare down at Steve. It’s so erotic, watching everything in your most sacred of areas, Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s face buried so intensely into your cunt you’re sure he can’t possibly breathe - he moans against your folds every so often, as though the act of giving you pleasure makes him feel just as good, and you don’t doubt it for a moment.

“Steve -” you gasp, back arching up, and Steve uses his hand around your wrist to force you back down onto the bed wordlessly - you drop pathetically back onto the duvet, a tear sliding down your cheek, and you can hear Bucky tut behind you, cold fingers slipping on the moisture coating your folds. “Steve - fuck -”

“Gonna cum, baby?” “Yes,” you breathe, hips bucking backwards into Bucky’s erection and he lets out a choked gasp into your ear, head falling back against the headboard with a loud thud that rings through the room. “Yes, need to - please -”

Steve pulls away, then - you cry out at the loss of warmth between your legs - and his nose nudges Bucky’s fingers, prompting the soldier behind you to take the cue to dip his metal digits into your cunt, the cold thickness stretching you out until you’re preening at the sensation. “Think she’s been a good girl? Think she should cum, Buck?”

You want to scream at the pause between the question and Bucky’s answer - he hums for a moment, as though in deep thought, fingers buried down to the knuckle inside of you and body practically leaning over yours so his metal arm can reach, brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision go fuzzy. He takes too fucking long, Steve’s grasp on your wrist pressed to your tummy the only thing keeping your hips from bucking up to force pressure into your cunt, before he finally says, “You’ve been good for us, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” you practically squeal as his fingers pull out hardly an inch before pumping back in, curling upwards again to hit your G-spot. “Yes, please, been so good, Bucky -”

“Cum for us, sweetie -”

You hardly wait for him to finish his sentence when Steve lowers his lips to your clit, wrapping around the bud and sucking until his cheeks hollow out, and your hips jerk desperately into his face as the waves of euphoria rack through your body, tearing a desperate sob from your throat as Bucky thrusts his fingers in and out of you, nearly hitting the side of Steve’s face in his haste to get you off, and he’s doing a damn good job at it - your hips jut into his back as you cum into their mouth and fingers, stuttering groans leaving your mouth one after another.

Steve’s mouth never leaves your clit - not even when your hips thrash against his mouth and you tear your hands free of his grasp to dig into his hair, attempting to stop his ministrations on your clit but he refuses - your folds drip wetness into his waiting mouth and he laps it up like a man dying of thirst, Bucky’s fingers lazily thrusting in and out of you as his chest rises and falls against your back, dropping your other thigh to hook an arm around your torso and hold you close to him.

Hold her down, Steve had told him, and he seems more than content to oblige with the order, whispering loving nothings in your ear that you can’t bring yourself to understand, words coming through as nothing more than incoherent babble to your brain muddled with the pressure to cum already building in your core again -

“Oh,” you whimper, heels digging into the mattress as Steve’s tongue laps over your folds and Bucky’s finger before settling on your clit again, flicking the nub over and over until you feel yourself fucking burst - “oh, fuck!”

It’s entirely more intense than the first one, Steve’s teeth nibbling at your clit as you topple over the edge like a row of dominoes - fire shoots through every limb, every crevice of your body until you’re shaking, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes and trickling down to your jawline. Your thighs tense, a high pitched cry piercing the air of the room as the aftershocks overtake your body, leaving you trembling into Bucky’s grasp as Steve pulls off your clit with a pop.

“That’s good,” Bucky whispers into your ear, pulling his metal fingers out of you once the shaking rolling through your body has come to a relative halt - through your blurred vision you can see Steve take the digits in his mouth, licking them clean eyes rolling up to meet Bucky’s, and he groans softly. “Good girl.”

Steve leaves one last kiss to your swollen clit before moving up your body, and you’re quick to lean forward, wrapping a quivering arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss - it’s rough and biting, teeth clashing together and his tongue swiping into your mouth without a moment for you to catch your breath, and when he pulls away his breathing is noticeably heavier than before. 

“Yeah, you’re good for us,” he tells you, bringing a hand up to stroke at the soft skin of your cheek before pulling it back and smacking it back down - it’s not hard, not by a long shot, but it’s enough to draw another whimper from your throat at the soft sting. “On your knees.”

Your legs feel shaky but you manage to push yourself to your knees, resting your arms around Steve’s shoulders to hold yourself up as Bucky shuffles behind you, slotting his hips against your ass so you can feel his bulge through his boxers - he grinds himself into your ass, sliding his arms around your waist just as Steve tugs his own boxers down, fist lazily pumping his cock as you watch him.

“You know what?” the blonde murmurs after a moment of you watching him, your cunt throbbing in need. “Think I’m gonna take your throat.”

You whine at that as Steve pulls away abruptly, leaving you nearly collapse onto your stomach but Bucky’s arm around your stomach mercifully holds you up, practically manhandling you as he turns you around, shoving you onto your back with your head nearly dangling off the bed as he crawls up your body, leaving lingering kisses on the smooth expanses of skin exposed to him. Large hands force your thighs open, pushing his hips in between your legs, and you whimper as his cock rubs against your overstimulated clit, even through the fabric of his boxers -

Steve stands beside the bed, smoothing his fingers through your matted hair as you come face to face with his cock, throbbing red and leaking precum down the sides, and your mouth practically waters at the sight - then Bucky’s pulling his own boxers down, swollen tip of his dick sliding through your sodden folds wettened from the aftermath of two orgasms. You push your thighs farther apart, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for Steve and he grins down at you, the expression looking less joyful and more downright smug and don’t you love seeing him like this? All dominant and intense, like he could control you if he pleased, and he does please -

His cock shoves forward into your throat at the same moment Bucky sheathes himself inside of your cunt fully, and a choked cry forces its way out of your mouth, reverberating through Steve’s body until he lets out a strangled grunt. Your nose brushes against the trimmed hair at his pelvis, hollowing your throat to take him in the best you can, and his grip on your hair tightens as leverage to hold you onto him.

“Oh - oh, shit,” Bucky gasps, the noise stuttered and breathy, and the hands on your thigh move up to squeeze your waist, grasp tough and bruising against your skin. “Fuck, fuck -”

You gag around Steve as he finally pulls out of your mouth, leaving just the tip on your tongue, and you swirl it around him - he drops his head back with a groan and when he speaks, his words are shallow, controlled - “Feels good, Buck?”

“So good, Stevie -” Bucky thrusts himself out of you before pushing back in, cunt stretching around his girth and your eyes roll back at the coil of pleasure already building in your lower stomach as his pace picks up, hips working faster and faster until the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowers your desperate mixture of moans and cries -

Nearly. Not completely.

Steve tugs at your hair and you remember your job to suck him off and you let him push your head forward, lips wrapping around his girth and tongue flattening to lap at the thick vein on the underside - his resulting groan is immediate, is desperate, and your urge to smile is only thwarted by Bucky’s metal hand pressing to your clit as his hips slam against yours.

Your hips jerk against his, pressure on the most sensitive point of your body making your eyes roll back once more as Steve’s cock slides in and out of your throat, both hands buried tight in your hair until there’s nothing else you can do than just take both of them - you bring your hands from their spot clutching the duvet to your tits, shaking fingertips kneading at your peaked nipples, and you’re not sure if the needy whine that emits from Bucky’s throat is due to his cock slamming into your pussy or from the sight of you toying with your boobs, but either one is reasonable, you decide.

It takes hardly a moment to work the three of you into a rhythm, but when you get it, it’s perfect - Bucky thrusts into you, filling you up so deep you swear you can feel him in every crevice of your body, and once he pulls out Steve pushes himself into your mouth, tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat just to hear you gag around him. Every once in a while, though, there’s a stutter in the pattern, and both men pull out to ram into your cunt and mouth at the same time, and the three of you cry out in unison.

Bucky’s flesh hand moves to your thigh, pushing it up so far that your knee nearly touches your chest and the burn only heightens the pleasure he’s giving you as he hits the sweet spot buried deep in your cunt over and over like he’s memorized exactly where it is - and surely he has - they know your body better than you do, sometimes - know just how to make you scream. Metal fingers tweak at your clit and your hips grind up into his, pushing him deeper and deeper into you, and you moan around Steve’s dick.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bucky groans, hips slowing deliberately in pace but it’s still fast enough to make your head spin - Steve moves one hand to your face, grabbing your chin and holding you in place with his cock still halfway down your throat. “Fuck - want me to fill you up, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Tell me,” he insists, and your eyes squeeze shut as you exhale through your nose. “Want me to fill you up?”

Steve pulls out until only the tip of his length rests in your mouth, and you swallow thickly before saying, words a desperate sob, “Please - please cum in me, Bucky, baby, please - fill me up -”

“Good girl,” the brunette between your thigh grunts, squeezing your clit harshly and your back arches, Steve slipping his cock all the way back in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and you gag around him as he moans. “Good - fuckin’ - girl -”

With a few more harsh thrusts into your pussy Bucky’s hips halt, pressed taut to yours, filling you to the brim, and his head drops backwards, lips parting with a drawn out, silent scream before he fully cries out, and you feel his ribbons of cum in your cunt - the warmth filling you up is enough to snap the coil building in your abdomen and you sob around Steve as you cum onto Bucky, core clenching around him like a vise as he holds you to him. 

“Yes, yes -” Bucky’s voice sounds far away as your muscles go lax, collapsing like putty onto the bed with the grasps on your head and your hips the only thing grounding you to Earth - “yes, takin’ me so fuckin’ good -”

It’s then that Steve gives one last thrust, deep in your throat, and his grip on your chin forces you to look up at him, meeting his stern eyes and he’s so close you can see it reflected in his orbs - they’re dark, pupils wide, and you whimper. “Don’t swallow,” he whispers, tone sounding similar to that of a hiss, and you nod. “Don’t swallow a single drop.”

Your head bobs up and down as Steve’s hand pumps up and down the base of his cock, his cry strangled and needy when he finally releases into your mouth - he cums in spurts onto your tongue and you keep it stuck out for him, trying to resist the overwhelming desire to swallow everything he’s given you but he looks so proud of you when he’s finished and every drop still rests on your tongue and you prefer that look of admiration over the taste, really.

“Kiss her, Buck -”

And Bucky doesn’t have to be told twice, both hands moving to your neck and pulling you up so vigorously your head is spinning when he crashes his lips to yours. His tongue slips into your mouth and you part your lips for him, cum dribbling out of the sides of your mouth and he laps it up like a dying man, palms pressed to your tits. You can see the bob of his throat when he swallows everything you’ve forced into his mouth and you swallow the rest, parting your lips from him with a gasp, practically heaving for air in the bedroom that suddenly feels humid, smelling of sex and cum and desire and remarkably like your two boys themselves.

Steve collapses onto the bed first. He grabs for Bucky, tugging him into his chest and you sit on your knees for a moment, simply watching them - they fall into tandem with each other like they were made for it, and maybe they were, Steve’s face nuzzling into Bucky’s back and you’re never surprised by the sudden vulnerability of your captain immediately after sex. The first time you’d joined them you’d suspected he was embarrassed but you don’t think he is 

He’s in love.

It’s a sweet thought.

Bucky wraps his metal hand around your wrist and pulls you down to him, his chin resting on top of your head as you press your cheek to his sweaty chest, feeling his arm wrap around your back. He’s silent, using his foot to kick the comforter up from where it’s been shoved to the bottom of the bed, and when it’s far enough up Steve reaches down to pull it over the three of you, drowning you in its warmth even though you’re not feeling quite cold anymore.

“I don’t know,” you say, after a moment of silence, voice muffled against Bucky’s chest. “It feels like I’m the only one getting ganged up on, nowadays.”

They laugh at that, Bucky’s flesh palm smoothing up and down your back. “You asked for it,” Steve tells you, and you shrug.

“Still.” You move to rest your chin on Bucky’s chest, and he nearly goes cross eyed to meet your eyes as he looks down at you. “Maybe, one of these days, we could tie Stevie up. Have our way with him.”

“He’d love that,” Bucky muses, and you can practically hear Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah - right after a mission, when he’s all wound up -”

“Hey,” Steve warns, and you smile.

“I don’t think there are restraints strong enough for those muscles, anyway,” you murmur, and Bucky smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

You fall into silence again, and after a couple of minutes you hear Steve’s soft snoring, followed by Bucky’s, until you’re the last awake between the three of you. They’re rightfully exhausted, surely getting little to no sleep over the weekend - you like hearing how peaceful they sound when they’re resting, even after fucking you so silly you were practically crying.

You smile as you bury your face into Bucky’s chest. Shit, maybe Fury was right - maybe they do balance each other out, a bit.

[xanasaurusrex]

Light - B.M.

Pairing: Beverly Marsh x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1918 words

Warnings: Love confession, mutual pining, swimming, swearing, Richie Tozier (it’s a warning within itself), kissing, tooth-rotting fluff I stg, Losers Club are aged up to 17, super crappy ending, not proofread, I think that’s it! Please let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: The other Losers know for a fact that Bev returns Y/N’s feelings, even though she’s blind to them herself. But after a set up one day, maybe she’ll see the light.

Notes: My first ever It (2017) fic! Also my first fic on Tumblr! Thank you to anyone who read this, because it’s taking a lot of courage to write this, let alone post it…. Yeah, Bev and Richie are my favorite characters in the movies, and, given my url, I figured my first fic should be a Bev fic! Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

******

“She likes you back, Y/N,”

“No she doesn’t.”

“Stop fighting it, we all see it!”

Y/N looked at Richie with a roll of her eyes, turning back forward to avoid crashing into anyone or anything with her bike. “Can you stop with that? I don’t want you giving me false hope when I know she doesn’t like me back,”

Richie was the one to roll his eyes this time.

Everyone in the Losers Club knew that Y/N had had a crush on Bev for as long as they could all remember. Since the first day she saw Bev in the pharmacy after they found Ben outside the sewers and had gone in to find the supplies to fix him up.

Bev had been the one to save the day. She had distracted the man at the counter while they took the things they needed, and had come back afterwards to make sure that Ben was okay. Of course, Y/N had realized that it was not the time to be admiring Bev, seeing as Ben had just had a pretty rough run-in with Bowers, and Eddie was freaking out enough as it was.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to fall completely in love with the red-headed Derry resident. She lived in the apartment above hers, and whenever Bev’s dad fell asleep, Bev would climb down the fire escape and climb into Y/N’s window.

Y/N would sit with her and listen to what she said, or would just sit there, and the girls would hug.

On those nights when Bev either couldn’t go down to Y/N’s apartment, or didn’t need to, Y/N would lay down, and stare up at the ceiling, knowing that Bev’s room was directly above her own. She would wonder what Bev was doing, if she was reading the secret admirer note that Ben had given her, or if she was thinking of Y/N just as much as she was thinking of Bev.

It was torture.

It took a little longer for the other members of the Losers Club to realize that Y/N was falling in love with Bev. After that, they all began encouraging her to confess to Bev, because even though at the time they hadn’t seen the light that ignited in Bev’s eyes the second they landed on Y/N, they wanted their friends to be happy, and who else to be happy with but each other?

That was all when they were twelve, nearly five years ago. In that time, they had all seen that Bev loved Y/N the same way Y/N loved Bev. It was hard to watch the two beat around the bush with each other; subtle flirting that neither one noticed (though everyone else did), and even harder to see them think that the other was in love with other people, though everyone else thought it was painfully obvious to everyone else that it was each other they were in love with.

Now, as Y/N and Richie biked home together, Richie tried his best to convince Y/N for the thousandth time that Bev liked her back, no, loved her back.

“I’m sorry Rich, I want to believe you, I really do,” Y/N said for the thousandth time. “But you’ve gotta be blind to not see that Bev and Bill are in love with each other,”

 Richie quickly realized that he didn’t have enough energy to argue with her today, even though he still wanted to, instead opting for a safer topic: the test that Mr. Herrd gave them today, that Richie was fairly sure he had failed.

***

“They’re both fuckin idiots,”

Everyone nodded in agreement at Richie’s statement as the entire Losers Club watched Y/N and Bev play around and splash each other in the lake in the quarry, both of them giggling like little girls, their cheeks bright pink, and not from the sun.

“Bev!” Y/N squealed as Bev splashed her with a particularly large amount of water. After taking a second to regain herself, she retaliated by splashing an even larger amount of water at Bev.

“It’s like they’re both wearing signs saying, ‘I’m in love with the person standing in front of me, but since I’m both a pussy and an idiot, I haven’t said anything yet,”

Stan rolled his eyes at Richie’s language, but agreed nonetheless. “I wish they would just admit it to each other already. To be honest, it’s getting tiring. Should we just… lock them in a room together and not let them leave until they confess?”

“That’s an idea,” Bill smiled.

“Maybe we should say we’re meeting at the Quarry but then none of us show up,” Eddie suggested. “Chances are they’re gonna stay and hang out, and maybe if we’re lucky they’ll say something?”

Richie scoffed. “Knowing them, fat chance. I think if this plan fails, we should go with Stan’s idea,”

The others all agreed, and decided when the best date would be to set this up, and then set the date for their backup plan, and decided they would do it at Bill’s house, since his is the biggest and they would be able to hang around and check in on them regularly without having to hear them kick and scream.

“You guys coming back?” Y/N broke the boys out of their trance after her and Bev realized that they had been splashing each other for nearly fifteen minutes, when they should have been splashing the boys. “We’re getting bored!”

The boys all gave each other a sly look before immediately running back towards the water, splashing Bev and Y/N immediately, all of them laughing as they got splashed back.

***

“Are they coming?”

Bev and Y/N had been at the Quarry for nearly half an hour, both of them laying against the rocks, sunbathing, in just their bikinis. It took everything in both of them not to stare at the other and admire everything about them.

Y/N glanced at the watch that she had taken off her wrist, anticipating that they’d be swimming, and saw that it was now forty five minutes after noon, the time all the Losers had agreed to be at the Quarry.

Y/N sighed. “I don’t think so. Maybe they all forgot?”

Bev laughed. “You think Stan forgot? He’s probably at Richie’s with the others trying to get Richie out of bed. How much d’you wanna bet he stayed up all night on his Gameboy again, and now he’s sleeping the day away?”

She said the last part in a mock-dreamy way, a tone of voice that had Y/N’s heart soaring. She had always loved the sound of Bev’s voice, and there were certain times when it would just go straight to tug on Y/N’s heartstrings. It was never a particular time, just… Bev.

Everything about Bev was magical to Y/N. Somehow, all it took was one small smile, one of Bev’s smiles, and all of a sudden, Y/N was a completely different person.

Normally, she didn’t really like physical contact. It wasn’t anything in particular that had caused it, she just never was a really cuddly person. She could enjoy a short hug, or a quick high five, but anything longer than about three seconds made her uncomfortable

She wasn’t that way with Bev. Y/N would hug her for eternity, and would never want to stop. The two often held hands, and told everyone else that it was purely platonic, though Y/N secretly wished that it would be something more.

Y/N knew that Bev was still talking, but she couldn’t focus on anything more than the way that Bev’s lips were moving, as they moved quickly and perfectly to form the words that were on Bev’s brain.

The conscious, realistic part of Y/N’s brain told her that she should be focusing on what her friend was actually saying. That in just a few seconds, Bev was going to do the thing that they always did in movies where she waved her hand in front of Y/N’s face and asked if she had heard anything she said.

Sure enough, she did.

“Y/N/N, are you even listening to me?” Bev asked with a small chuckle.

The sound alone sent more heat to Y/N’s cheeks.

“S-sorry,” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head, almost as if that would clear her head of the thoughts she shouldn’t be having about her best friend. “Just uh… feeling a little out of it today, that’s all,”

Bev nodded in understanding. “Yeah. Today just… feels weird.”

Y/N nodded in agreement.

The two stayed silent for a few more minutes, before Y/N sat up again. “So, since the boys aren’t coming, we probably shouldn’t wait for them to start swimming, right?”

Bev nodded in agreement, before jumping up and running towards the water, yelling, “Last one in the water is a dancing clown!” behind her, before immediately splashing into the water, getting to a deep enough area, and diving in.

Y/N cursed herself, and then immediately launched herself into the water after Bev, inadvertently splashing her with water as she came out of the water herself at the perfect time.

“Got you!”

***

Y/N shook the water droplets out of her hair, refraining from watching as Bev dried out her own hair, slipping the loose dress that she had brought with her over the bikini that she had worn.

It was now five forty five, and Y/N was going to be expected home for dinner soon. After realizing this, she had reluctantly told Bev that she needed to head home.

Since they lived in the same apartment complex, Bev said she’d go with her.

The sunlight from the sunset bounced off the lake and onto the two girls standing on the beach next to the lake in the Quarry.

Y/N couldn’t help herself this time. She looked up to Bev, and found that she was staring at her the same way, admiring how the golden light danced across her skin, from the top of her coppery red curls to the very bottom of her feet.

Before she could even process what she was doing, Y/N quickly closed the space between her and Bev, pressing her lips against Bev’s.

It only took Bev two seconds to kiss back, relieved that Y/N had been the one to make the first move.

After a few seconds, they realized that they needed air, so the two reluctantly pulled apart, resting their foreheads together.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Y/N whispered breathlessly.

“It was love at first sight, wasn’t it?” Bev asked. “I saw you with the boys and I knew that it was always going to be you. It’s always been you, Y/N,”

“It’s always been you, Bev,”

The two pulled apart, Bev’s arms still wrapped around Y/N’s neck, Y/N’s hands placed lovingly on Bev’s waist. As she looked into Bev’s eyes, she saw a glint in her eyes that she hadn’t seen before.

The light made Bev’s eyes even brighter than they already were, and the longer Y/N looked at her, the more she fell in love.

“I love you, Bev,” she confessed quietly, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulder at the confession. “I always have.