#no but this was fun to do thanks for the push ^^

[madebycloud]

ALL MINE

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you and jinx have been satisfying each other's needs with no labels, no strings attached. just two adults who have fun with each other every now and then. simple, right? or at least, simple in theory, right up until you start feeling jealous when you see her with someone else. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: MDNI 18+, fluff, slight angst, smut, G!P reader (don't like, don't read), friends with benefits/fuck buddies, unprotected p in v, college au, porn with some plot, cunnilingus, throat fucking, fingering, spanking, semi-public, creampies, one sided feelings but not really one sided, insecure!reader, kinda nerd!reader, R is so petty, R is so annoying, R is a dick, R is a pussy words: 13.5k

College sucks.

With the shitty attendance of professors, the endless workload, all those projects and essays and presentations, the tests and quizzes, shitty group work with shitty partners.

So much stress just for the possibility of a shitty grade.

...

Being an adult and balancing a life with school SUCKS.

But thankfully, there are a few things that make it bearable.

Like a certain blue-haired currently sitting at the edge of your desk, legs on either side of you, face flushed and biting her bottom lip as she muffles her moans. 

“F-fuck... you... you, d-damn—” The grip on your hair tightens and her back arches while your tongue slides up her needy slit. “Oh, that— that feels so good—”

Jinx tastes so sweet, so perfect, your hands rest on the pale skin of her thighs, keeping her legs from moving or closing in. Her eyes slam shut, head hangs back, her breathing hitch every time your tongue slips past her folds. 

“I'm gonna, ah f-fuck, I'm coming—” and before she has the chance to get out the rest of those words, her hips writhe and quiver, shaking with a climax that has you holding on to her thighs to keep her from slipping off the edge of your desk. 

She comes all over your tongue, and you keep licking her slowly, helping her through her high until she starts to push you off.  

You pull back and look up at the bluenette in front of you. There is a thin stream of her juices running down her quivering thighs that makes you want to keep going, but instead, you force yourself to lean back on your chair, watching her attempt to straighten up her skirt and collect herself. 

“F-fucking... jesus christ. I hate you.”

It's such a conflicting statement because her words are one thing, but the wrecked and completely satisfied look on her face says something else entirely.

“Yeah, I'm sure you do,” you say with a smirk and wipes your chin. “Can I go wash my face now? I've got a class in a bit.”

“Fine, go.” Jinx climbs off from your desk. There's a slight tremble in her legs (thanks to you) that she quickly tries to hide but fails anyway. She runs a hand through her hair, fixing it as she stands there. 

You get up from your chair and stretch first—college is doing a number on your back, you swear—and walk over to the sink in the corner of your dormitory room to wash your face, leaving her to recover.

Jinx had been in your room more than hers. One, because it's better than bunking with her annoying roomie. Two, because there is more privacy. Three, your room's walls are not as thin as hers, so you can let loose sometimes. The noises she made, the noises you both made...it was a good thing your room had decent soundproofing.

There are times that you do it in her room, if her roommate is not there, but more often than not, it's here in your dorm. You've had her bent over every possible surface, every possible place that you're certain she can't walk out the next day.

Your thoughts bring a little smirk to your face as you finish toweling your face dry, and that smirk stays there as you head back to where Jinx is sitting on the edge of your bed.

You could go for another round, you're still in the mood, really. But unfortunately, your next class starts in a few minutes.

You walk to your closet and pull out a fresh shirt, one that doesn't smell like Jinx yet. You throw the old one in the laundry, it's already marked by her anyway, and put on a new shirt.

“Gotta go, my class is starting soon.” You turn around as you pull the hem down. “Are you just gonna stay here?”

Jinx sighs before she shrugs. “I'll just stay here for a while. Maybe I'll take a nap or something.” 

“No classes for you today?”

“Nope, lucky enough not to have any classes.” She shrugs again and swings her legs back and forth. “I'm free.”

You nod then grab your backpack from the floor, slinging it on one shoulder.

Just as you reach for the door handle, Jinx calls out, “Hey.”

You stop and turn to look over at her. “Yeah?”

“Kat's throwing a party tomorrow.” Jinx leans back, both arms braced behind her, raising an eyebrow at you. “You coming?”

“I might.”

If you didn't have a ton of homework and papers to grind out, yeah, probably. Jinx knows that. She also knows that you have...other things that are more important than some party with a bunch of drunken and horny adults.

Yet Jinx smirks at your response, like you've given the answer she's been hoping for.

Jinx stands up and closes the distance between you, stopping a few inches away. “You should come... you could use a little break.” She lifts up a hand to dust off your shoulder as if there's any lint on it. “Let loose. Relax. Have a little fun for a change?”

A party...you haven't been to any parties since freshman year. No time. You haven't had the time to, not with your classes and work and the million other things that fill your schedule.

“College is eating at me alive and you want me to party, huh? I don't have time for that, you know that.”

Jinx laughs, and the hand on your shoulder slowly slides down over your chest, stopping right at your stomach. “One evening, is all I'm asking.”

How long has it been since the last time you've had a few hours... hell a few minutes... to just hang back and unwind? A 'break' these days means you grab some sleep, shower, and then go back to studying until your eyes water. 

“C'mon, just one evening. Have some fun. Besides...” She leans closer, lowering her head to the side of your neck. “I'd really, really, really love it if you come.”

Your skin practically crawls with the way her words and her breath caress your skin, and the way she whispers things like that...how can you say no to that?

Your shoulders sag, and you exhale in an audible sigh. “Fine,” you finally say. “I'll be there.”

Jinx pulls back her head, grinning widely, satisfied with her victory. “Okay, off you go then. Go to class now, shoo.”

You roll your eyes as she shoos you out the door, giving you a light tap on the shoulder to hurry.

It's not like you have much of a choice. You already know you're going to give in, and she knows it too.

“Don't make me regret this.”

“You won't!” Her voice calls out behind you once you step into the hallway of your dorm. “Promise!”

—

You step into the house where the party is, and jesus christ it's so damn loud. Your ears immediately start hurting because the music is blasting everywhere and you're not even sure how this place hasn't gotten noise complaints yet.

Looking around the living room, the first thing you notice is all the people are everywhere, all crammed into this one little place that it's almost suffocating to wade through.

Some people, you recognize. Katarina, for sure. She's sitting on a couch next to a guy with brown hair and they're both downing some sort of drinks in shot glasses.

A few others that you've had brief interactions with, but not enough to remember their names. Then there are the people that you don't know at all. Those guys are probably seniors. Or... maybe freshmen?

And there's one thing that is and has always been the same in college parties: the alcohol. Most of these people are here to drink, and there's plenty of it.

On the counter? A huge array of liquor bottles, some you've heard of and some you haven't. Probably the latter ones will mess you up real fast if you're not careful. On the fridge? It is packed full of beer, champagne (who the hell brings expensive champagne to a college party of all things?), and what is probably some type of jungle juice.

You're just about to turn around and go back to your lonely dorm when a different voice rings through the noise. “You came!”

You look directly in front of you, and lo and behold, Jinx was right there.

You wonder how the hell you didn't notice her earlier (maybe it was the noise, or maybe it was you being distracted by all the other people). She looks surprisingly sober too, considering she's at a college party. 

“I knew you would come,” Jinx says, grinning. “Just couldn't resist...could you?”

Jinx is wearing a short red plaid pleated skirt with a black leather belt, and black cropped top that stops just under her breasts, showing off her taut stomach and a small bit of midriff.

Her attire is almost like a goddamn crime because it looks like it shouldn't look good, but it actually does look good. It looks too good. She looks so fucking good that it should be illegal.

Jinx notices the way you're looking at her, and then a smirk crosses her face. “You like what you see?” She does a little twirl, as if to show it off for you.

Hell yeah. You like it a lot more than you should. Jinx's gorgeous and sexy as hell, and you know damn well that if she had been wearing this earlier in the day, you'd have skipped class to have your way with her.

“Mhm. I would love to just pick you up and fuck you against the wall here and now.”

The smirk on her lips somehow just seems to get even wider, then she cocks an eyebrow and tips her head to the side. “What's holding you back then?”

“Well, maybe the fact that there's a million people here and I have a lot of self-control.” Okay, maybe that self-control is being tested at this moment.

“Aww, that's not a fair excuse.” Jinx pouts and takes a step closer, making your eyes snap downward to what bit of her thighs she's showing off under the skirt. “I can tell that you want some privacy.” she trails her finger across your chest “And trust me, I want it too.”

Your patience snaps, and really, seriously, what's the worst that could happen? 

You grab her arm, maybe a little too tight, and she actually giggles when you turn and start briskly walking towards the stairs, pulling her behind you. 

You don't know this house at all, but there's no time to care because you want to get her alone now, and privacy won't be found downstairs. Luckily, the house is big, so not all the rooms have occupants, and with some searching, you find a spare room and open the door, pushing her inside.

“Impressive. You actually managed to—” Jinx is interrupted as soon as you shut the door behind you and lock it, then push Jinx up against it, pressing your body into hers, making her gasp and arch her back from the impact.

Even though she looks a little surprised, not a single protest leaves her mouth because all she can focus on is how your lips are instantly on her neck, trailing up and down and nipping across her throat. Jinx lifts her hands, fingers gripping the shoulders of your shirt. 

With one hand on her hip, you use the other to push her crop top and bra up, bunching it past her collarbone. You kiss her down, reaching the top of her breast. Wrapping your lips around her nipple, then you suck it gently while your free hand moves to the other, pinching and rolling her pink bud.

You pay attention to both—her pale skin covered in a light glaze of sweat. Each nipple is teased, alternating between a gentle, barely-there feel of your tongue and a more firm pressure as you pull them between your teeth, her moans your only guide.

When Jinx seems to be losing patience, you finally release her with a small pop noise, lifting your head up to look at her again. The smirk is gone from her face, lips parted, panting slightly as that hand on your shoulder tightens.

As you move closer, her lips part instinctively, and you take advantage of that as you claim her mouth in a bruising kiss, tongue snaking past her lips. 

Your hand wanders, going down to her hips, underneath that damnably short skirt, slipping past the fabric of her panties. Jinx gasps as your fingers slide across her folds. You curse at how wet she already is.

“You're dripping so much, Jinx,” you say against her mouth. You pull away, lips trailing down her neck until they reach her ear, biting it gently, earning you a breathy moan from her. “Have you been like this the whole night, or was it just when you saw me?”

Jinx's thighs twitch involuntarily when you circle your thumb, pressing on her clit. “You know the answer, idiot.”

You chuckle softly, then slowly push two fingers past her folds, making her hips jolt. Your knuckles flex and your fingers curl, as if getting acquainted with your new favorite place. 

Jinx giggles, just a little, before the sound dissolves into a soft moan. “Hurry up...” she pants.

You start up a rhythm, starting slow at first, wanting to take your time and make her wait, but her hips desperately trying to grind herself against your fingers just spur you on to go a little faster. 

“Be patient.” Yet, you speed up your pace, and she almost chokes when you crook your fingers. “You look like you're enjoying my fingers just fine.” 

“Fuck— yeah— I am,” she admits. Jinx's head falls against your shoulder, trembling hands moving to grip your biceps, clinging to you to keep herself from being slumped in a heap on the ground.

“Yeah?” A part of you is surprised she even admits that. After all, Jinx has quite the ego. “I can tell.”

Her walls flutter around you, gasping loudly and burying her face in your neck. Jinx presses her forehead onto your collarbone as she shudders each time your fingers thrust inside her.

You bite your lip to hide your grin—you love the sound of her whiny, needy noises, and she's so damn beautiful that you can really understand how she's the most hated person at school... and at the same time, the most desired. 

“Shh, someone might hear you,” you whisper, even though the music is pounding downstairs.

Jinx shakes her head, lifting her head up to kiss your neck and jaw. “Don't care.”

Anyone who's downstairs definitely won't be able to hear her over the music, but still. “If you're too loud, other people can hear you.”

Jinx's response is to laugh, a low chuckle that borders on a whine as she tries to push herself against your hand. “I don't care, okay? I just don't— mmmh, don't care, just shut up and keep going.”

You keep up with your rhythm, fingers moving rougher as you hear soft gasps and moans coming out from her. There's no time for gentleness, and there's definitely no room for any teasing. You're not about to waste much time when there's so little of it to begin with. 

“I'm gonna— gonna come—” A bite on her neck challenges her, dares her to let go. And that's exactly what she needs. She clenches around your fingers with a soft cry, making her weak-kneed and leaving that filthy mess of her juices coating your digits. 

You keep your fingers moving until you're certain that she's done, and when she finally does settle down, you pull your hand away, licking her slick off of them.

Jinx leans heavily against the door, catching her breath, trying to recover her bearings.

Watching her like this, all flushed and sweaty, makes you want to drag Jinx back to your place and just fuck her right there. You want to put her on your lap, grinding against you, watching her like a piece of art while you stretch her open.

Maybe you'd even tell her how good it feels to have your fingers curled up inside of her, how you can't get enough of how good she feels wrapped up in your arms,and how the taste of her on your tongue never fails to make you crave more. 

Maybe you'd even tell her how much you find yourself missing her when you're apart, how you spend more time searching for her across the campus. Maybe you'd even go as far as to admit out loud that you want to kiss her just as much as you want to eat her out.

...and yet you hold all of that stuff back because, in the end, you're not a fool. Jinx doesn't do nice things, sweet words or soft whispers. She's rough, blunt, harsh, a rough diamond, more trouble than she's worth.

Still, you can't stop yourself from wanting to pull her closer to you, just to hold on. So you do. Hands finding the bare skin of her waist, where her cropped top ends, and you let your fingers trail up and down that patch of bare skin.

“You okay?” 

The question just slips off your tongue, and the second it does, you cringe at how soft it sounds.. it's because of the stupid, weird feeling that's currently squeezing your heart.

“Shut up, that was-” Jinx starts to say, but she cuts herself off when she hears your question, eyes narrowing slightly and she just looks at you for a second, gaze calculating. Her expression then softens a bit, and she sighs. Maybe she likes how soft you sound, maybe she doesn’t. “Yeah. I'm okay.”

You feel better that Jinx actually says it, and you smile. “Good.” 

Jinx scoffs, but she returns the smile. It's just a small smile that most people would pass by, miss, forget, but it's there. Maybe you would have missed it too, except you know her, so you see it. That gives you some kind of stupid, foolish hope. And that stupid, foolish hope starts to make its way over. 

Slowly, the smile fades from both of your faces, and she's just looking at you.You don't know what she's looking for, but you hope she doesn't see too much.

You don't want her to see more than what she should, and you don't want her to know how much this (whatever the fuck this is), is starting to mean to you. You don't want her to realize that you've fallen for her, that you're more than just physically attracted to her. Because if she knew that, she might…do something. You're not even sure anymore what she'd do. And you don't know if you could handle whatever rejection she might come up with.

Maybe it's a good thing you don't know. You don't want to know. it's better if you just don't think of it. 

Jinx notices you just staring at her, then she rolls her eyes and snorts. “You're so disgusting, dude.” Her gaze then drifts down to the bulge straining your pants, and the smirk that crawls on her face makes your cock twitch. “Need some help with that?”

You huff out a laugh, though the smirk fades away when Jinx's hand touches your belt, and you hear the clinking as she's unbuckling it.

You catch her wrist, stopping her.

She scoffs. “I'm literally trying to be charitable here, and you won't let me?”

“...I don't want to make a mess.”

Jinx grins mischievously “You think a little mess will stop me?” and then she's dropping to her knees in front of you, hands undoing your belt. “You know I'm more than happy to clean up.”

She tugs your pants and underwear, dropping them down to your ankles. At this point, the only thing getting you through this is the knowledge that the door is locked.

Though, Jinx doesn't seem to mind. On the contrary, she's almost smug about it, licking her lips when she sees how hard you are.

She chuckles. “Damn.” Jinx brings her hand up to your cock, running a finger over the tip, watching the small beads of pre cum drip out of the slit. “I know you won't last long.” She then moves her hand around the base and gives it a couple of pumps. “But I'll be nice and make it good for you.”

That earns her a low groan of approval, and you place your hands against the door behind her. “Be quick about it, then.”

Jinx clicks her tongue and laughs, pumping your cock faster. “Don't worry, gorgeous. I'll make this quick.” Without waiting for your response, she guides your already soaked tip across her lips, giving her a lip gloss before she wraps her mouth around it and slowly starts bobbing her head.

Your eyes flutter shut, but the visual is too good for you to keep your eyes closed for long. You look down at her, watching your length disappear between her lips. The bluenette never breaks the eye contact, swirling her tongue around the tip of your dick before she takes it up and down her throat. 

That pulls another moan-groan out of your mouth, but with the loud music, it's not like anyone downstairs is going to hear you. Still, you're trying to keep relatively quiet. 

Jinx, however, doesn't have that problem, and her loud slurping noise nearly sends you over. Even with your girth stretching her lips, she manages to give you a smirk. She slides her hands down, fingers massaging your balls as she takes your cock deeper into her tight throat. She just keeps moving her head, making sure her tongue is wrapped along your shaft while her eyes stay locked on yours.

“You've gotten good at this, baby...”

Jinx pulls back, lips shiny with pre-cum, licking at the corner of her mouth as saliva drools from her chin. “It's not like I've had any other practice. You're the only one I do this with.” She moves her hand, stroking you and spreading her saliva all over your cock. “Besides, it helps when you have a pretty big one.” She gives you a cheeky smile before her mouth is back on your tip, caressing the slit with a flat tongue. 

Despite trying to tease you, Jinx is starting to look desperate. She looks up at you as she starts bobbing her head at an almost reckless pace, sucking your dick deeper with more enthusiasm.

You're not going to last like this, you know it, and so does she. Your hands slip away from the door to cup her head, fingers curling around her braids as the muscles of your stomach tighten. You grip her hair hard as you start fucking her mouth, shoving your cock into her.

Jinx gags herself on your cock with every thrust of your hips, yet her throat willingly takes every inch of you. She looks like a mess, mascara running, drool dripping out of her mouth, and a bit of water in her eyes. Even so, she tries to get you closer, deeper, all the way to the base until her nose touches the skin of your pelvis.

“F-fuck, Jinx— I'm— I'm gonna—”

Jinx nods the best she can while your hands hold firmly to her braids. And that's all it takes. The sound of her name coming from your lips ends up buried by the sound of the party outside the door. You press your hips against her face, releasing your load down her throat, filling her mouth with your cum. 

She swallows every last drop until her stomach is full of you, then pulls her head back, your softening, spent cock out of her mouth. Her lips are swollen and glistening, a bit of your cum smeared on her chin. She wipes a finger across her lips, catching the few drops she missed, and licks it off.

After a few minutes of trying to catch your breath, you pull your pants back up and fasten your belt, then reach down to bring her up. 

She laughs—not her usual raucous, crazed laugh—and takes your hand, standing up on shaky legs. You then step back, giving her the space she needs to straighten up her clothing. Jinx smooths out her skirt and pulls her top and bra back into place before wrapping her arms around your waist. 

She rubs the side of her face against your chest, staining your shirt and smearing her makeup even more. “You ruined my hair.”

The hair is indeed a lost case, her braids now loose and messy. Jinx shakes her head in mild frustration, a few stray locks landing over her face. She huffs and blows them away. 

You grin, amused. “Maybe you shouldn't have worn it like this, then.”

“Don't be an ass. It took me forever to do my braids that way, and it was all ruined with your stupid hands pulling on them.” Jinx pushes away from you, groaning. “UGH, I gotta go to the bathroom.”

You snort, and she walks towards the door. She opens it and peeks outside. Once she's sure that no one's around, Jinx then slips out the door and out into the hall, and you follow behind as she heads off to the bathroom.

You lean against the wall outside, waiting, folding your arms over your chest. 

An hour or so later, Jinx returns, stopping in front of you with hands on her hips. “How do I look?”

You check her out. She looks much tidier than she did before. the makeup on her face is completely gone, her hair is neater, and her top and skirt are less rumpled.

You drop your arms as you push off the wall. “You look fine.” 

That, predictably, gets a scoff out of her. “Just fine? Not gorgeous, not stunning, not ravishing, not perfect, not a goddess? Just fine? I'm offended.”

You roll your eyes, but a grin slips through anyway. “I'm sorry. You look beautiful and ravishing and stunning. I think you're the most gorgeous, alluring, perfect woman in the world.”

Jinx smiles and flicks her braid, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Perfect,” she says. “Let's go.”

You follow her downstairs, which are a lot louder than they were before. You wince at the sound, already preparing yourself for more noise for the rest of the night.

Jinx notices and laughs. “Too loud for you?”

“Ugh, yes. I'm not sure my eardrums will survive the night.” 

Jinx laughs again, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. She glances around the house before turning to look at you. “Gotta go get a drink. You go and enjoy the party,” she says, before adding, “And if you happen to wanna leave, just stop and let me know before you do, okay?”

She pats your shoulder, turns and heads off to find a drink. You watch Jinx disappear into the crowd and find that your hand is on your shoulder, fingers rubbing at the spot where she just touched you.

Okay... that one's a bit weird and a little pathetic.

You give yourself a mental slap and turn away, trying to find something to divert your attention.

It's not hard to find something to look at. There's a group of people that are already getting drunk and starting to do stupid things like standing on tables and yelling. Some people are starting to play a card game near the counter, and there's a crowd of people that are cheering them on, and somewhere between all of this and Jinx disappearing behind the crowd, you decide that you really want a drink.

You walk over to the kitchen (where it's slightly better than the rest of the house, honestly). There's more room to breathe, and the noise is more bearable. 

You grab a cup near the punch bowl and fill it with some of whatever has been spiked in this thing, then take a drink.

“You need some help with that?” A new voice comes up behind you. You look over. Long blonde hair, pretty eyes with glasses. You've seen her around before but never really talked to her. “Uhm, Lux, by the way.”

“Hmm? Oh, no, I'm good, thanks.” You smile politely. “Just taking a break from the party. It's getting too loud in there.”

“Right?” Lux laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, and then sighs. She comes up to the counter and hops up, then takes a gulp of her own drink. “Honestly? I don't know why I even came here, parties aren't really my thing.”

“Mhmm same.” You nod, relieved that someone feels the same as you. “My friend dragged me here. I'm usually not big on parties either, too many drunk people and loud people and—”

“—too much happening at once.” She finishes your sentence. “I totally get that.”

There's a moment of silence as you and Lux just drink your drinks. Then, she speaks up. “You don't really look familiar…” her eyebrows scrunching up a bit in confusion. “Do you, by any chance, know Jinx?”

“Yeah, I know her,” you say, a bit surprised that she asked. “I'm guessing you do too?”

“I do.” She gives you a small smile. “She and I used to be pretty close back in high school.”

Huh. you didn't know this. You tilt your head at the new information. “You guys don't talk anymore?” you ask out of curiosity.

Lux shrugs at your question. “We still talk sometimes... but not as much as we used to.” A pause. “Are you— are you two close at all?”

“We're close,” you answer without any hesitation. You're a bit curious about why Lux is asking so many questions about you and Jinx.

She nods at your answer. “I figured as much.” Lux looks like she wants to say more, but she suddenly looks in the living room, then a soft snort leaves her nose. 

You follow her gaze. And there, in the corner of the room, is Jinx, leaning over the billiard table, lining up a shot.

Except, she's not alone. Behind her is a man, his chin hovering just a few inches from her ear. One of his hands has come up and is cupping one of her elbows. He's telling her to aim at the eight-ball, even though Jinx's clearly not listening and is just laughing at whatever stupid joke he said.

You don't know why, but it pisses you off. Not just a little. A lot.

A scoff leaves your mouth and you turn your attention back to Lux, who is watching you closely. “They seem pretty close.”

Lux hums. “I guess.” She takes a drink from her glass as she looks a little closer at them. “I mean, they've always been like this.” What? Before you can ask, what the fuck does she mean by that, Lux already hops off the counter and smiles at you. “I better go. I think my brother might be looking for me.”

You nod, giving her back a polite smile. “Sure, um, have a good night.”

Lux waves at you before she walks out of the kitchen. You're left standing alone in front of the counter, sipping your drink and watching Jinx and that guy again. 

They look comfortable. Too comfortable. Jinx laughs again at something the man says to her. You can see how the guy is leaning close to Jinx, talking directly into her ear, and when he puts his hand on her back, your fingers tighten against your cup a bit.

...

You shouldn't really care. It's not like you're exclusive.

But you do care, and it pisses you off that you do.

...

This is so stupid. 

You know how stupid this is, how stupid you are for coming here.

You shouldn't have left that comfortable dorm full of silence and peaceful solitude and gone to this stupid party. You had work to do, after all, and you had come here for what? Only to find your not-so-girlfriend getting comfy and cozy with someone?

Before it really gets to you, you turn, push past people, then leave through the front door.

There's no reason to bother saying goodbye to Jinx. She's already got a guy to hang around, and she's doing just fine without you. You don't need to bother sticking around. You just need to get out of here and try to forget you even came.

It's cold outside. The harsh wind is a painful sting against your bare skin. You shiver, and yet you keep walking, trying to get away from this shithole as quickly as possible.

You're just about to mount your bike to pedal your sorry ass back to your dorm and maybe try to sleep off whatever shitty feelings you're feeling when you hear your name called out. You curse because you'd know that voice anywhere.

Jinx stops in front of you and looks at you with something that you wish you didn't notice. 

Concern. 

She looks genuinely concerned. 

“I thought you'd say goodbye, at least,” Jinx says, a little breathless from hurrying. “Are a you—” she stops to catch her breath. “Are you alright?”

You shrug, pretending to be calm, or at least attempting to. “I'm fine,” you mutter, looking off to the side. “I just…remembered I have this stupid paper due on monday.” 

That's bullshit. Jinx knows it, you know it, even your bike knows it. “You're a worse liar than I am.” Jinx steps closer and jabs her index finger against your chest. “What's really going on, huh?”

“Nothing.” 

She scoffs. “Stop bullshitting me. Just spill.”

“I said it's nothing, okay?!”

That came out harsher than you intended, and at the tone, Jinx immediately pulls her hand from your chest. She steps back, arms crossing in front of her, and looks at you.

Jinx has this stupid, damn expression, concern and maybe a sense of understanding all over her face, and you want to take her face in your hands and kiss her because you're being such an idiot, but you're also angry for reasons you don't really like to admit out loud.

You can't tell her you're mad as hell about a guy talking to her because you don't have any right to feel that way over someone who isn't even yours to begin with.

“Don't get snappy with me,” Jinx says. “I'm just trying to check up on you, dickhead.”

“I didn't ask you to.”

It comes out bitter and sharp, and Jinx flinches almost unnoticeably.

Her reaction makes your guilty conscience flare up. You're actually being rude to Jinx, and for what? For being concerned about you? For caring? For just wanting to check on you? You really have no idea what the hell is wrong with yourself, and before you can even try to force an apology out of your mouth, Jinx speaks up.

“Fine.” And in a way you hate yourself for noticing, but you swear you hear hurt in her voice. “I'll just go then.”

Jinx turns, and before you can get a word out, she's already walking away. She doesn't look back at you as she vanishes back inside.

...

You shouldn't have come to that stupid party in the first place.

—

A week. Seven days. 168 hours.

One miserable week of pretending to not care. One week of ignoring her. One week that seems to drag on for an entire year.

A week of sitting in lectures while trying not to think about her, only to fail at it. A week of walking past her in the corridors only to have your eyes linger on her for a second too long while you pretend to not look. A week of having to swallow back the urge to go to her dorm because goddamnit, you miss her.

You're actually getting a little bit sick of pretending. A little bit sick of trying to ignore the guilt gnawing away at your heart. And most importantly, you're really sick of not having someone warm to fall asleep next to. 

And yet, you didn't chase after her. 

You don't even bother to try. How can you? When you're the one who acted like an absolute shithead to her. You don't exactly deserve to even talk to her.

Jinx probably hates you. 

You groan to yourself and close the book. 

You came here to the library to study, not to sit around and wallow in your feelings like some heartbroken love-struck idiot. Which you are, BUT you could at least be a productive idiot.

You get up and gather your books and notes, stuffing them in your bag. You're done studying, for now, at least. You can try again tomorrow, hopefully when you don't have Jinx dancing around in your brain anymore.

You stretch, feeling your stiff muscles complain, then make your way out of the library. The campus is pretty empty this late at night. Most people are either drinking or asleep by now, which is fine by you. Less people to see you sneaking back to your lonely dorm.

Just as you round the corner, you feel a hand catch the crook of your elbow, firm hold, pulling you to a stop.

“Knew you'd be here.”

You whirl around, about to curse, only to be met with the one person you have been avoiding for the past week.

Jinx's hand keeps a tight grip on you, holding you in place without having to even try. 

She's wearing an oversized black shirt along with a pair of pajama pants covered in a pattern of little cartoon bombs with angry eyebrows.

Her eyes meet yours, and your heart does that stupid, fucking annoying thing, beating just a little too fast.

Holy shit. Get yourself together.

You look away, ignoring the rush of feelings that comes with just seeing her again. “I'm going home. What do you want?” You know how they sound—cold, distant. Nothing like you want to sound, but you can't even look at her without wanting to just reach out and touch her.

Jinx lets go of your arm and folds her arms over her chest and cocks her hip, giving you a pointed look. “I'll cut to the chase. Were you jealous of Stephen?”

“Who the fuck is Stephen?”

“You know, the guy I was playing with at the billboard the night of the party? Lux told me you saw us together. Is that why you threw a fucking tantrum because you were jealous?” You scoff, because it's true. Jinx rolls her eyes when you don't answer. “I'm not interested in Stephen, if that's what you're worried about, and he'd sooner die than even look at me like that.”

Then why the hell was he hanging on to her, touching her like that if he didn't—Oh. “Oh...”

“Oh,” Jinx mocks, copying your tone. “Is that what you got out of this? Really? Really?”

You huff, trying to maintain some dignity. “I'm not— doesn't matter. I have to go.” You walk past her, heading towards your dorm.

Jinx groans and follows after you. “You're really that jealous? over a guy who's into dick?” she says as she walks a few steps behind you. “Stephen is just a friend. I've known him since high school.”

You don't grace her with an answer as you walk forward. Yes, you're jealous, which doesn't make sense, because you and Jinx agreed to keep things between you casual. You stop in front of your door and search for your keys while cursing at yourself.

“Seriously? You ignored me for a week just because you were jealous? Just because I was speaking to a friend? A friend I have no attraction towards. A friend I see as like a brother?”

“I'm not.” You unlock the door and head inside. “I just don't like it when someone touches what isn't theirs.”

Jinx just snorts before following you into the room and immediately sits on one of your chairs. She props her feet up on your desk like she owns the place. “Not jealous? Then why do you care who touches what?”

You slam the door shut and drop your bag on the ground. “It bothered me, alr— stop putting your feet on my desk.” You swat her feet off the wood. “Seeing that guy touching you like that, it bothered me more than it should have, and I didn't like how I felt. Sue me.”

Jinx smirks at your words and stands up from the chair, sauntering towards you. “Why's that? afraid that someone's gonna steal me away?”

“I'm not afraid,” you lie and step back until you feel the edge of the bed hitting the back of your knees.

Jinx follows you until you're forced to sit, grinning widely as she stands over you. She chuckles and leans forward, putting her knee on the bed between your thighs. “No? You could've fooled me.”

You lean back, propped on your elbows as you look up at Jinx. A hand comes up to cup the side of your face. Her thumb brushes over your lip before trailing down your throat, chest, and hip, where she tugs on your belt loops and pops it open.

“It's cute how possessive you're being, but also kinda stupid.”

Jinx runs her fingers down the buttons of your pants, taking her time and teasing you. Once they're undone, she pushes them down. 

You bite back the low groans that try to crawl up your throat when you feel her knees brush against your clothed cock. She notices, then presses down on you even more, biting her lip like she just found something delicious to eat.

“Definitely stupid if you think I'm gonna let anyone come between us.” Jinx toys with the edge of your underwear, pulls it down, your cock springing up towards her. “Like I'd let someone else touch me when I've already got you to do it better, hm?”

She wraps her fingers around your shaft, just barely, just enough to tease. Her thumb rubs across the sensitive head. 

“Look at this,” Jinx murmurs, and you're pretty sure your brain will short-circuit when you hear her say, “I missed you.”

You hiss softly. You're not entirely sure if she means you or your cock, and honestly, does it even matter?

Jinx takes her hands off your dick and tuts, annoyed with your silence. “What's wrong? Don't wanna speak? Fine. I know for sure you won't be quiet when your dick's down my throat.” 

She slides off the bed and kneels down between your spread thighs, eyeing your dick shamelessly. Jinx wraps her fingers around you again, and when you buck your hips, she just laughs at you, the sound of it vibrates around your cock.

“Mmmh, so desperate for my attention. You should've just told me that you were being stupid and jealous. Could've saved yourself a week and gotten this sooner.”

Jinx pauses long enough to lean down, and—oh, fuck, you almost choke on a moan when you feel her tongue drag around the head of your cock, licking the precum.

“Don't say I haven't missed you, too, because I have. Just couldn't stand how childish you were being.”

Jinx sucks your tip, swirls her tongue around the slit, and swallows you until you can feel the tip of your cock brush against the back of her throat. Her hand slides down your shaft to fondle your balls. She moans around it, gagging on you as she tries to take more.

You thread your hand into her hair, gently at first, then tighten and pull on it so hard she moans again. Jinx takes your cue, moving with the rhythm you set, head bobbing to the pace you dictate as you shove your cock into her mouth. 

Glancing down, you see her lips are stretched wide around your cock, hollowed to the point where you can see the outline of your length through her skin. Your grip on her braids has worked loose her hair, the strands hanging around her face, framing her eyes.

You don't realize how loud you are until you hear yourself: “Fuck, Jinx... Jinx... Jinx, I'm—”

Hearing you call her name, Jinx grins as much as she can with her mouth stuffed full of your cock. Then she pulls back, giving your tip one teasing circle around the edge of her tongue before she lets you escape from her mouth. 

“Don't you dare ignore me ever again.” Jinx squeezes your balls just a bit, enough to serve as a silent warning. “Got it?”

“Got it,” you gasp, because right now, you'd promise basically any goddamn thing if she'd stop squeezing your balls.

Jinx hums, and the pressure eases off of your poor, abused family jewels. She pats your balls gently like a dog that's been good and leans her face down, her cheek brushing the sensitive head of your cock. 

“Good. You're smarter than I give you credit for.” Jinx drags her tongue up the underside of your shaft, all the way to the tip. “And here I thought your brain had been replaced with your other head.” She presses a kiss on the tip, the softest kiss, like a sweet reward. “Now, do you want it in my mouth again…or do you have something else in mind, hm?”

“You know what I want...” you groan, and your hips buck back towards her mouth reflexively.

Jinx smirks, giving your split-slicked cock another light kiss, this one a little firmer...but just a tease. “Oh yeah? Then why don't you tell me?”

You swallow, breathing hard. “I want… I want to fuck you, Jinx—”

A low, husky chuckle falls off her lips. Then, her fingers slip inside her pants. You can hear them rub against her and hear how wet she already is. 

“Is that what you really want?” Jinx asks, a sly smile on her lips as she slides her soaked fingers out of her pants, holding them up in front of her face. “Think you deserve it?”

Seeing her like this has your hands clenching the bedsheets tightly, and your cock throbs so painfully that it makes you curse, “F-fuck—  please, just… I want… I want to be inside you.”

Jinx's eyes go heavy-lidded at the sound of your curses, and then her focus drops to your aching, hard length. She smirks before she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucks them clean, swirling her tongue around her middle and forefinger, then slides between them up to the knuckle.

She moans softly, eyes closing for a while, letting the taste soak into her senses, and then they open again, locking onto you once more. 

“Oh, someone's eager.” Jinx pulls them out with a pop when she's done. “But, you know... I don't know if you really deserve it, you did ignore me for a week, after all. It really hurt my feelings.”

“I'm sorry,” you croak, watching her get off her knees. “I promise it won't happen. Not again. I won't shut you out. I won't avoid you. Just come here, please.”

Her hand pats your head in a condescending sort of way. “I know, but can you keep your word this time? Or are you just going to ditch me for a week again, you dumbfuck?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I wont. It was stupid. I was angry, but not at you and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Just, please. I want you. Need you.”

Jinx's expression softens, and so does her tone. She climbs on top of your lap, hands resting on your shoulders. “You're forgiven, but if you ignore me again, I'm cutting off your balls.”

You have no doubt that she will. “Understood.”

“Hmm, good,” Jinx murmurs before she threads her hand in your hair and leans down to kiss you. You gasp against her lips, making it easier for her tongue to slip into your mouth, and you open for her eagerly, without protest.

There are too many clothes, too much fabric, and it's starting to be a problem. Jinx seems to be thinking the same thing because she breaks the kiss to pull her shirt off, then tosses it aside to the pile of clothes that scattered at the bottom of the bed.

Your hand slips behind her, finding the clasp of her bra, then undo it, slipping the strap over her shoulders, her arms, before it drops to the floor. Running your lips over her collarbones, Jinx tips her head back, exposing more of her pale skin. You bite and kiss your way across her chest, stopping to pay attention to her pink nipples.

Jinx shudders as you lick her, flicking the bud with your tongue, fingers pulling your hair a little too hard, and you lift your head from her chest, grumbling softly. 

You bite her nipple in response, which causes her to gasp. “Oh fuck—” her voice softens and she giggles “—that feels good.”

Jinx grabs your face, pulling you away from her chest for another kiss. You taste your own blood as she captures your bottom lip with her teeth. You pull away, licking the tiny amount of blood from your lip, then wrap your arm around her hips and flip the both of you, pinning her to the mattress.

She just chuckles and spreads her legs wider, letting you kneel between them. You kiss her neck, pausing to suck on the soft skin of the junction between her neck and shoulder, hands moving down to her pants, pushing them off her hips. Jinx lifts them up to make it easier for you to strip her bare. Once it's off, you toss it to the floor. 

“So fucking perfect,” you say when you get a good look at her. “So wet, just for me, Jinx—”

Jinx shivers and her breath stutter, teeth sinking into her lip as you brush your fingers over her panties, feeling the dampness soak through her underwear. 

“Hurry— ah— get the condom and get it now,” she says impatiently, hooking her thumbs over the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her thighs, kicking them off.

You climb off the bed, dig through the drawer, then pull out a condom. Tearing the package open, you turn around and find Jinx has flipped over, stomach pressed against the sheets, looking back at you over her shoulder with her ass sticking up in the air.

Damn. 

You have to grab the base of your dick to keep yourself from losing it just from the sight of her. The condom hangs in your hand, and you're so distracted you almost don't hear the way she says, “If you don't be in me in ten seconds, I'll take matters into my own hands.”

That is what snaps you back. No way you're letting her use her fingers, especially when you already have your cock throbbing and leaking because of her.

“Yeah, I'm— I'm working on it, hold on, you impatient—” You stumble and climb back onto the bed, kneeling behind her. Hands a little clumsy as you roll on the condom. It's hard to think when your eyesight gets a little blurry from how horny you are.

“Just— fuck, come on—” Jinx pushes her hips back, and you run your hand over her ass, using your other hand to line yourself up, rubbing the head of your cock against her slit. “Just put it— ah fucking finally—” she gasps out as you push yourself in, bracing your hand on the mattress by her hip.

She's so wet that it's easy to slide your cock in. Her words are all you can hear as you push down a little onto the bed, kneeling down to kiss her shoulder blades. “You're perfect, so good, so perfect, your body, your voice, the way you look—”

“The way I feel?”

A grin curves your mouth into a sharp smile. “Especially the way you feel.” The words are pressed against the arch of her spine, tracing kisses down her back. 

Jinx giggles, which melts to a faint whimper when you snap your hips into her. She reaches back, grabbing your hip and digging into your skin. “Come on, you've done this before, shouldn't you be a bit more— ahh— a little better at it, you shithead.”

You huff out a small laugh. She's already impatient, always is, and you just got inside her. “It's just— it hasn't been that long.” Just a week, to be exact. But still. 

“Then you gotta make up for lost time,” Jinx replies breathily, wiggling her ass to urge you on. “Make it count.”

“Yeah,” you drawl, pulling out your aching, dripping cock until just the tip rests around the edge of her cunt before slamming your whole length back into her glistening hole, making her body jerk forward “I'll make it count.” 

You do it again and again, pulling out and driving yourself back into her, each motion more rigorous. Both hands move to hold her down by her shoulders, pushing her torso against the sheets as you fuck her deeper, burying yourself balls deep inside her.

“That's— that's what I thought— oh, fuck!” Jinx chokes out, eyes fluttering with every thrust. 

Her face is squished into the pillow, the fabric already messed up and damp from her drooling mouth, while her hands grip the sheets, fingers twisting in the cloth. 

She manages to reach out and grip the headboard. “Fuck— I missed your cock, missed you—”

Her voice sounds like she's high. High off your body. High off your cock. You wish like hell you got a record of her pretty mouth saying stuff like that. “Say it again. Tell me how much you missed this. How much you missed me.”

Jinx has the nerve to laugh, or tries to, but it quickly turns into a guttural groan, throat getting rough halfway through. “So, so much,” she says, hips rolling. “I missed you so fucking much. So many nights, alone, wishing you were here, touching me, filling me up— ah, like this.”

You take your hand off her shoulders, grip replaced by your arm wrapped around her chest to keep her balance, pulling her up onto her knees and pushing her against the headboard as you pound into her at such a rough and brutal pace. 

“I missed you too.” you breathe next to her ear, lips tracing the shell. “I'm so fucking stupid for ignoring you.” 

You kiss her shoulder, as if in apology, then slam your hips against hers with enough force to nearly send her head forward and colliding into the wall.

Jinx moans with her mouth hanging open, like she can barely breathe, as she braces herself against the headboard. Fingers digging into the wood so hard, it leaves scratches. She pushes back into you, meeting every single one of your thrusts with her own, forcing herself to take your cock as deep as she can. “Oh, fuck— you're so big— gonna make— fuck, I can't, I can't hold it—”

The heat builds up in your body, something hot and tight in your groin, and you can feel your body start trembling, starting from your toes. “Yeah, me too, baby— come with me, Jinx—”

Jinx leans her head backwards, back against your shoulder, head tilted just enough that your face is nuzzled into her cheek while your cock stretches her open. “T-touch me, please— I need you to touch me.”

You keep your pace, relentless and rough. Your hand leaves her waist, palm cupping her breasts, thumb rubbing over her nipple. The other hand goes down, fingers slipping in between her thighs, finding her clit and rubbing it in tight, small circles, in sync with the rocking of your hips, coaxing her to the edge.

Jinx turns her head, lips barely touching. “Ah, gonna— I'm gonna— oh—” her voice trembles, and she clenches around you before she comes, body arching back and trembling in your grip. Her juices spray all over the sheets, dripping down her thighs. 

You aren't far behind, groaning into her ear as your hips lose rhythm and spilling your load into the condom.

Sighing, Jinx falls forward on the sheets, and you drop your head, resting on her shoulder for a second as both of you try to get air back into your lungs and to bring your heart rate back down. Then Jinx smacks your hip lightly, so gently you pull out, collapsing onto the side with a groan, one arm wrapped around her waist.

You brush some of her hair out of her face, tucking some behind her ear before you lean closer, gently kissing her shoulder. “You okay?” 

Jinx doesn't answer. 

You push yourself up on one elbow, leaning the side of your head on your palm. “Water?” you try again, and this time there is a grunt to let you know that she heard you at least.

Jinx lifts her head and twists a bit to peer at you with one eye. “Yeah. Water sounds good, yeah. Bring me a towel as well, please, I don't want to move, my legs feel like jelly.”

You smile before kissing her shoulder once more, then slip out of bed, tossing the used condom into the garbage on your way to grab what she wants.Once you come back with a glass of water and a washcloth, Jinx has managed to pull herself a bit higher on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. 

You pass her the water first, watching as Jinx greedily gulps it down before she sets it on the nightstand. “Thanks.”

Then you sit down on the edge of the bed and use the washcloth to clean off the rest of her mess.  As you do, your mind drifts to the part you hate. Your feelings for her.

There are a lot of things Jinx could be, but to her core, she is a person obsessed with excitement and thrill. A thrill-seeker. A hedonist. She got bored easily. With her short attention span, it was a matter of time before she found something more interesting than you.

“Hey.” Her voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see her staring at you with a slight frown on her lips “Why are you looking so serious all of a sudden?”

Fuck. 

You force a smile on your face and finish cleaning her up. “Mmmm, no real reason. Just thinking.” When you're done, you crumple up the cloth and toss it on the floor.

Jinx reads through your bullshit instantly, head tilting to the side, eyebrow arching in an oddly innocent, yet knowing gesture, and says “You're bullshitting me.” Then pats the open space on the bed next to her, beckoning you. “Come here.”

You almost roll your eyes affectionately and shift to sit back against the headboard next to her. Jinx scoots closer, resting her head on your shoulder, then drapes her leg over yours.

Jinx presses a kiss on your throat, then smiles when she brushes her nose against the underside of your jaw. “Stop thinking so much,” she says, voice soft in a way that she doesn't usually use. “You know I'm yours, right?”

“I know, but...” Just not the way you want her to be.

She pulls back to look at you, squinting her eyes. “But...?”

“I mean, not in a 'official way',” you say, then press a kiss on her forehead, trying to put up a nonchalant front. “Just a fun, you and me thing, no strings attached, right?” You try to play it off like a joke, as if the mere suggestion of being more than this makes you gag.

Jinx rolls her eyes and pulls out of your grip. “Wow, wow, 'just fun, no strings attached'? You're a dick, you know that?”

Inwardly, you berate yourself for that response, because she's right, that was kind of a dick thing of you to say, but you're so desperate not to have this slip away from you.

You grab her wrist, pulling her back to your side. “I'm just—” you flounder for a moment, “I'm just— I'm worried that you're gonna get tired of this eventually. You get bored of things way too easily—”

Jinx sighs and her face falls, and she looks more exhausted than anything. “And… you think I'm gonna get bored of you somehow?” The last part is spoken with a note of disbelief, then she shakes her head, as if she's trying to brush off some thoughts. “Damn it, dude— you're a complete idiot, you know that? I like you. Like…” she makes a vague, helpless gesture “I actually like your stupid ass and I don't know how to convince you of that.”

Something clenches in your chest, and you're not sure if it's your heart or your stomach, or maybe both, when you look at her. You've spent so long believing that this whole thing is temporary, only something casual, that the thought that you could be more to her never even crossed your mind.

“You—” You swallow, throat suddenly dry. “You like me as a friend... or...?”

She snorts, rolling her eyes again, and it helps the sudden rise of hope in your chest because it's a familiar gesture that you've always known. “Or?” Jinx deadpans. “How are you so smart and so stupid at the same time? Do I have to spell it out for you? Do I really have to say I like you, you thick-head, I'm not just messing around with you to pass the time—”

“No, I get it—” 

Jinx grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look into her eyes. “I like you, dickhead. I want to be with you. Got it? Do I need to get that through that thick skull of yours? That is not that big of a concept to comprehend, is it? I care. About. You. I don't care if it's casual or official or whatever, I just want you, dumbass.”

You blink and then blink again because holyshitholyshitHOLYSHIT. It's just so insane how quickly everything you thought you'd figured out gets turned on its head, and all you're left with is trying to figure out how you were so dumb, so blind, so stupid-

Jinx is looking at you like that, all fierce and determined and beautiful, and that's when you remember that you should probably say something.

You're not the best with words, but you're so desperate to get everything straight to not lose her, so you grab her hips and pull her into your lap, wrapping your arms around her bare waist, and press your face into the crook of her shoulder.

Jinx huffs out a soft laugh, then wraps her legs around your waist, arms around your neck. “I like you, idiot. Not just as a friend. And if you ever say 'casual' and 'no strings attached' to me again, I'm strangling you with my bare hands—” she pauses when she feels something underneath “—why'd you get a boner all of a sudden, you dipshit?”

“That, uh—” You're a smart person, smart enough to know that your body's basic biological needs have… a very short and simple function, but it's still kind of embarrassing to have your body out of you like this. “Sorry, I couldn't help it, so just ignore it, please—”

“Are you serious? we're having a heartfelt conversation here and you get a boner like a fucking teenager? Like I said, idiot.” her fingers run over your collarbone, nails dragging lightly over bare skin. “And you're telling me to ignore it, as if it's not poking at me right now.”

“I can't help it if my dick has the shittiest timing, alright? It's not like I can just shut it down like a switch— mhmm fuck—” 

Jinx grinds her hips down in your lap. The wetness between her legs rubs against your length.

You swear to whatever god there may be, there is, because it takes everything you have not to make some kind of pathetic whimpering sound at the friction against your still-hard cock.

“Jinx, baby, you have to stop. I-I can't focus if you do that. I can't think straight if you're—”

“So don't think then, idiot. You're just thinking too much with that brain of yours again.” Jinx wraps her hand around your cock, then you almost choke when she moves, shifting until it's pressed firmly against her slit. “Just shut up for once, and just think with your dick.”

“You're— you're not even tired?”

“Not yet.” Jinx grins and gives your cock a little squeeze. “I can be good for more than one round, thought you already knew that.”

Holy shit…how long was she expecting you to last if you already know she's planning to wring you out like a goddamn towel? One of these days, your dick's going to have an actual heart attack from all the abuse it's been getting from her over the years, and you're never going to get it back up again.

You swallow at the thought, and she laughs under her breath at whatever face you must be making. “I did know that, but you were complaining about your legs feeling like jelly, so I just assumed you'd—”

“Shut up, I can do this,” Jinx says, and suddenly lifts herself up on her knees, using your shoulders for balance. “Shut up, okay? I need to make my point, get it through to you, that I like you. How I want to be with you. Not just a casual thing—”

“Wait, let me get the—”

“No. Let's just do it.”

…

“…without it?”

“Without it… if that's okay."

You don't think you've ever nodded that fast in your life. All you want is to prove to her over and over that you like her back, no strings attached or not.

“Good.” Jinx presses a kiss right on your cheek. “Now that we know that you're not just a dumbfuck with a pretty face,” she purrs, “how about you live up to the hype and pound me into the mattress until I can't walk, hmm?”

Her words go straight to your aching, throbbing cock, and that's when you realize that she is going to drive you to an early grave. “I think— I think I can manage that. But… um—” You lick your lips, eyes darting down to stare at her chest. “Turn around, please.”

Jinx smiles and pecks your lips in a quick kiss, then spins around, facing away from you. So fucking hot. She knows it too, throwing you a smug smile over her shoulder. Hands resting on your legs to support herself. 

Jinx raises herself up, takes your cock in her hand again, and runs the head of it through her slick folds before she lowers herself, sinking all the way down until you fill her up.

You throw your back against the headboard, head resting against the hard wood with a thunk. “Oh, fuck, Jinx—”

The condom's been a barrier for so long, you can't believe you're getting to feel her like this. Your bare cock buried deep inside her pussy is the best thing you've ever felt. Now it makes sense why she wanted to do it this way.

“Thought you said you wanted to make me live up to that dick, and now you're trying to make me lose it immediately?”

She has the audacity to giggle, followed by a soft sigh of pleasure, as she begins rocking her hips back and forth, squeezing tight around your cock. Your hands move up to grip the sharp edge of her hip bones while your eyes roam over her body. She keeps taking your length, adjusting to your size until she finally gets the hang of her rhythm. 

Jinx leans forward, back bent, ass pushed out, like she's making sure you can get a damn good view of how well she's taking you, your dick stretching her pussy out, all red and swollen, wet and shiny with her juice.

She looks back at you, eyes heavy-lidded, lips pressed to a wicked smile. “So... is this a good argument so far?”

You can only let out a groan. You have to admit, she's got a really, really strong argument, and you're going to let her rub it in.

“I'm taking that as a 'yes.'” Jinx chuckles, breathless from the cock spearing her open. “You seem to understand things better when you have concrete evidence right in front of you, hm? Maybe if I do it every day, things will finally stick in that thick skull of yours.”

You nod dumbly, too focused on the way her ass jiggles whenever it hits your pelvis. “Uh-huh. Y-you make a really good point. I need a lot of, uh, visual aids to get it into my thick skull. And practice. Lots of, um, practice. Maybe, uh, once a day or twice or— or god, maybe even three times if we really tried.”

The laugh you get out of her is worth your shitty attempt at dirty talk, and her mouth spreads into a cocky grin. “Maybe? 'Maybe'? Baby, I think we could do three times a day minimum and that's not even factoring all the other fun things I can do.”

You shiver at the images her words put in your head. “Y-yeah. We're... really gonna need to work on my stamina, too. And, like... my willpower. And... patience, yeah. God, your pussy is really gonna test all of those, isn't it—”

Jinx laughs again, which turns into a sharp gasp. She likes that. You get the impression that maybe you're learning how to say the right things. 

She starts to move faster, thighs burning as she keeps grinding and bouncing on your cock, riding you for all she's worth, nails sinking into your legs.

You bring both of your hands down to her ass, giving it a pat, which turns into a squeeze, then you pull her cheeks apart, spreading her wide. The pad of your thumb circles around her rim, watching how it twitch.

“You like that?” and when you press your thumb closer to her rim, like you're thinking of trying to push into that tight little hole, Jinx clenches, clamping down so hard, you can't help but groan.

“Like it? I'd be offended if you haven't noticed that I love it by now.” She clenches again to make her point. “Are you— are going to play with me like that all night, or are you going to do something more with that— ah!” She gasps when your hand spanks down on her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint across her pale skin. 

“Sorry— does it h—”

“Harder,” Jinx demands, arching her back, and you're not even really surprised when she says, “Spank me, you coward,” over her shoulder. 

Not missing a beat, you bring your hand down and smack her ass again and again and again, leaving an even redder mark. With each smack, her walls constrict, inner muscles clenching around your dick. The sound of your hand against her ass is the only thing you can hear, bouncing off the walls. 

Jinx's arms falter, dropping to her forearms as she fucks herself on your cock, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, bouncing faster and faster that you can hardly follow, as if she's going to crush you against the mattress underneath her. Your eyes dart down, seeing the other hand between her legs, and she rubs at her clit furiously, chasing that high.

“Ah, fuck— I think I'm gonna—” then, suddenly, she goes tense, her breathing hitches, and for a horrifying second you think you're in trouble, but then—Jinx cries out, and you realize she's coming, body shuddering and legs shaking. 

Grabbing both of her hips, you lift her up and meet her with the snap of your own, fucking the orgasm out of her. After her high, you pull out, and Jinx is left overstimulated and trembling.

You sit up, then wrap an arm around her middle, pulling her flushed back against your chest, hands caressing over her ribcage. 

Jinx huffs but goes still, and you kiss the side of her neck, lips traveling up to her jaw, finally landing on her ear. 

“Are you okay?”

She nods vaguely, catching her breath, then, a breathy laugh escapes her. “You didn't finish.”

“Yeah, can you help me?” you ask. “Please?”

“Mmmm.” Jinx's response sounds more like a purr, and she leans back in your grip, head tilting to the side, exposing more of her throat to your mouth, which presses more kisses to her skin. At your words, she says, “So polite,” the words are half-teasing and half-grateful. 

Her hand drifts down between her legs, grabbing the base of your shaft, her palm already a bit slick. “How—” she pauses to rub over your sensitive head with her fingers, sliding up and down the length, smearing the mess of her juices on your skin. “How do you want it, baby?”

You bite her earlobe at the pet name, fingers drifting from her hip, tracing over her skin, all the way down to her inner thigh. “...I wanna see you. Want to look at you.”

Jinx smiles before pressing one final kiss on your cheek. “Okay” She wriggles out of your grip, then rolls to the side, flopping onto the bed, bracing one hand on the headboard, the other on the mattress. She spreads her legs, giving you a view of her glistening slit, beckoning you to crawl over her.

You settle yourself between her legs, taking one of the pillows and shoving it under her ass. One of your hands grabs the back of her knee, pushing them forward until it's up, while the other strokes your cock, running the tip through her folds to gather some of her juices. 

Jinx bites down on her own lip as she shifts her hips, trying to get you to finally push into her. “Would you stop playing with yourself and put it in already? I'm literally right here. I have a perfectly good pussy that's wasted.”

Her words are as filthy as your thoughts, which, if possible, gets you even harder. Leaning forward, you take your hand off your dick and rest it on the pillow next to her head, using it as leverage while slowly pushing your hips forward, sinking back into her pussy. Her velvety walls clench around your girth as you drive deep into her from tip to hilt.

“You all right? Does this— Is it good?” you ask when you're all the way in.

“I think— I think you know the answer by now, baby.” Jinx lifts her hands to grab at your shoulders and locks her ankles behind your back, trying to pull you down. You let her, settling onto your elbows before you press a kiss on her shoulder.

Every sound that escapes her mouth—the ragged breathing, the gasps and sighs, the way Jinx moans your name—makes you go faster, deeper, and with every hard thrust, her breath turns hotter, heavier. You lean back just to watch the rhythmic bouncing of Jinx's breasts as you repeatedly drill yourself deeper inside her.

Goosebumps erupt on her skin as Jinx adjusts to your pace. A slender hand slides from your shoulders to your waist; she grips the edge of your shirt and drags it up to your mouth, keeping it out of the way. 

Your eyes meet hers, then bite the fabric, holding it with your teeth. The muscles in her stomach jump and move with each snap of your hips as you keep hammering into her relentlessly. 

Jinx presses her hand against your stomach, your abdomen tightens at the touch. “Fuck, you look so—” she breathes, tongue licking her lips. “You're so hot—” Her gaze moves, drifting away from your face to watch herself take you in, cock disappearing inside of her again and again. “You're— hah— too damn big. I can't— aah— I could see you under my stomach when you're this deep. You fill me up so well.”

Your teeth let go of the shirt, letting it fall onto her breasts. Her comment makes you shiver, the praise of her words causing you to bury your face into her neck. 

With her legs still wrapped around you, you thrust forward, knees and elbows digging into the mattress to spread her thighs wide open while you fuck her deeper, making sure Jinx takes your entire length, your balls slapping against her skin.

You pound into her with such force that the bed begins to rock, banging against the wall. The sound of the headboard scraping into the wall should probably make you worry, but the way she clenches around you is worth whatever you'll have to pay in repair costs.

The hand on your stomach slides lower, then a finger dips into her slick. Jinx rubs her own swollen clit, and you hear her wince. Too sensitive. You push your body back up, bracing on one elbow, then swat her hand, replacing it with your own, circling her clit with your fingers.

A long whine escapes her, and she tosses her head to the side when you apply more pressure to her sensitive, needy little bud. “Mmphh— baby, j-just like that!” Jinx gasps out back arching, pushing her chest up to meet yours.

You clench your jaw, cock twitching and pulsing inside her as you feel the heat pooling deep and spreading from your groin, through your stomach, up to your chest, and to the tips of your ears. “Jinx, I don't think I can last much longer—”

Jinx pulls your head down by the back of your neck and bites the crook of your shoulder. “Inside me— I want it, want it all, want to feel you— come on, fill me up. Make me yours.”

Hearing how she needs you, how much she wants you in her, is like a snap. The fingers around her swollen clit start to move faster, circling, rubbing, trying to match the pace of your thrusts.

Jinx comes in a matter of seconds, body shaking and legs trembling, hissing from the overstimulation. You follow soon after, gripping the sheets as you come inside her, yet you keep going, shoving back every drop of your cum that tries to spill out of her.

It's not until Jinx lightly pushes you off your shoulder that you finally stop. You slump forward, face first into the pillow next to her, breathing heavily.

Jinx shifts under you, laughing softly, then presses a kiss against your temple and says, “…Did I make my point clear, dumbass?” The only response you can give is a tired grunt, which makes her laugh again.

After gathering enough energy to lift your body from hers, you slide your cock out, then look down at the cum dripping from her and down the sheets.

Jinx looks at you and waggles her eyebrows like it's a game. She then reaches down to scoop the cum that's leaking from her, bringing those same fingers up to her lips. She sticks her fingers into her mouth and sucks them clean, moaning around them while keeping eye contact with you, as if the taste of your cum mixed with hers is her new favorite thing.

“Gross,” you manage to say, but it's more reflex than anything. There's no disgust, because the sight of her enjoying the way you taste on her tongue does something to you, which is how Jinx ends up laughing again and pinching your cheek. You huff and collapse onto the space next to her.

Jinx gets up and crawls over you, straddling your hips. You let out a sigh at her weight. “Come on...” she coos. “I still have a lot more visual aids to show you.” She leans back, hands bracing on your thighs, and the smile on her face makes you roll your eyes to the heavens.

“You're—” You swallow, blinking a few times. “You're... a really, really persuasive person. I don't think I have any more cum left in me...”

“Mmm, really now?” Jinx asks, and the sly glance she gives your dick tells you it wasn't a genuine question more than a challenge. “I think you've got plenty for me to play with.”

“Uh...” You glance down at your cock, eyes widening to see that it's hardening again despite just having come. “You're a bad influence on this body part, did you know that?”

“No, I didn't,” she drawls, eyes darkening as she watches your shaft harden in front of her. “But I'm definitely going to make a note of that.” The tip of her finger brushes up the length of your growing cock. “Looks like I'm doing a good job convincing that last bit of your brain that it can't live without me. I should work harder on the rest.”

“You're just— God. If I die from exhaustion tomorrow, you're paying for my burial.”

jinx:

[follows-the-bees]

I'm at the bittersweet end of this challenge. At first I wasn't sure if I would commit to it (who am I kidding? Not only am I a completist but when something really catches my attention I completely dig in.)

I am going to miss doing this every day. It gave me something consistent and offered a lot of deep self reflection. What characters am I drawn to? Why do I like characters? Is there a general similarity with them? What about differences? And the real key: I may like this show or movie, but are the characters in it ones I love? Or are there other factors (cinematography, etc) that I like about it?

I have compiled some statistics of this journey. While it's probably only interesting to me, I present them here.

Number of different shows represented: 102

Number of different movies represented (this includes franchises, i.e. Star Wars is counted only once): 91

Miscellaneous (this includes actors who play the same characters in multiple movies, i.e. The Marx Brothers): 7

Number of tv miniseries or made-for-tv movies: 4

Humans: 305

Magical/non-human beings (can be witches, hobbits, vampires, etc): 56

Animals: 6

Actors in the most number of roles:

Rhys Darby: 8

Felicia Day, Keira Knightley, Maggie Smith, Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, Alan Tudyk: 3

Kristen Bell, Katherine Hepburn, David Tennant, Joel Fry, Bea Arthur, Taika Waititi, Miranda Hart, Matthew Goode, Robin Wright, Sam Neill, Christina Ricci, Mandy Patinkin, Annie Potts, Nathan Fillian, D'Arcy Caden, Madeleine Sami, Cary Elwes, Robin Williams, Peter Dinklage, Uzo Aduba, Billy Crystal, Rahul Kohli: 2

Shows and Movies with the highest number of characters:

Supernatural: 15

Warehouse 13 and Our Flag Means Death: 8

Stargate (counting all three together), The Librarians: 7

Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel, Lord of the Rings, The Good Place: 6

Wynonna Earp, Doctor Who, New Girl, What We Do in the Shadows, The Princess Bride: 5

Anne of Green Gables, Pride and Prejudice, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, Eureka, Psych, Lucifer, Superstore,Brooklyn 99, Bones Criminal Minds, Castle, Firefly/Serenity, Scrubs: 4

Jurassic Park Series, Pushing Daisies, A Room With A View, A League of Their Own, Gilmore Girls, The Golden Girls, Short Poppies, Resident Alien, The Mummy Series, Will and Grace, Outlander, Ted Lasso, Star Wars Series, Schitt's Creek, Deadloch, The Hunger Games Series, The Philadelphia Story, 9-1-1, 10 Things I Hate About You, Singin' in the Rain: 3

Veronica Mars, God's Own Country, His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby, 101 Dalmatians, Maurice, iZombie, Fried Green Tomatoes, A Discovery of Witches, Sleepy Hollow, Good Omens, Frasier, Chicago Fire, Hocus Pocus, 9-1-1: Lone Star, Relax, I'm From the Future, The X-Files, NCIS, The Rookie, Red, White, and Royal Blue, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Bend Is t Like Beckham, A Knight's Tale, Call the Midwife, Downton Abbey, Just Friends, Matilda, Addams Family, Love Birds, Derry Girls, The Goldbergs: 2

Thank you all for being on this journey with me! I hope this year has been as fun for you as it has for me!

This is a year-long commitment but I'm up for the challenge.

Characters aren't in a ranked order.

[mars4hellokitty]

We'll never have sex

Hockeyplayer!Vi x reader :)

| The notorious fuck boy has seemingly put her days of sleeping around behind her after getting in a committed relationship. But between her teammates and the reputation bestowed upon her, the pressure to please you becomes overbearing |

wordcount : 2k

cw : none really? angst if you squint really hard but other than that it's just tooth rotting fluff :p hurt x comfort. ALSO MY NATIVE LANGUAGE ISN'T ENGLISH SO PLEASE BE MINDFUL 🙂‍↕️🙏🏾

a/n : THANK YOU SO MUCH @applejusue FOR PROOF READING FOR ME MUAH ILY ALL 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

I just lost my ficginity guys 😓💔 I'm so so so so so so so so scared about posting this idk why it's probably like fine for my first try????? idk roast me to death or give me love idk idc um i don't think I'll write that much in the future??????? honestly who knows? ok i know I said roast me to death but dont be too harsh or I'll cry ☹️ OKAY HAVE FUN READING BYEEEEE

Milestones in relationships weren't something Vi was too familiar with, yet it felt like everyone around her had an internal checklist of these stages, which they expected their relationship to follow:

1. Dating

2. Officially being girlfriends

3. Saying ‘I love you’

4. Having sex

The hockey player was a notorious fuck boy in highschool, a reputation she has yet to be able to redeem. Because of this, her teammates are a bit…

Vi’s gaze traces up and down the aisle, trying to find something that you'd like. It was your anniversary and she wanted to get you something small to celebrate that, without the price hurting her wallet.

She grabs a box of chocolates she knew you loved, temporarily ignoring how many shifts at the Last drop it would cost her as she holds it gently.

Her teammate, Maddie, scoffs at her.

“I'd never spend that much money on such a prude.”

Vi's jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as she huffs through her nose.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I didn't think you had it in you man, a few years ago you wouldn't even have had a girl around for a week, let alone 5 months!” another girl shoots in, her seemingly sinister snicker making the other ones laugh all over again.

Her teammates laugh.

Like it was unbelievable that Vi would be with someone without putting her tongue in them.

“Just quit it, alright?” She huffs, pushing past them to get to the cashier. Pretending as though their words didn't feed her already growing insecurities.

Of course she'd thought about it, why you two hadn't done it already, were you just not ready? Did you not like her? Was she disappointing you?

Was she even worth more than what she could do for others?

Her mind churns and wanders, not noticing the line diminishing until the cashier has to gently bring her back to earth, waving a hand in front of her eyes.

Vi flinches slightly, putting the chocolate on the conveyor belt with an apologetic expression.

Her teammates had left her — How predictable — leaving her to take the long route to the dorms.

On the way there she made a plan, she had to. You were going to leave her unless she stopped being all sappy and just fucked you already.

———————————————————————————

You had prepared everything, walking around and decorating the limited space you had in your dorm before your girlfriend was coming over.

You had your friends on speaker as you paced around, excitedly showing them everything you had bought as you neatly wrapped her gifts.

“I hope she'll like it!” You say excitedly to your friends, grinning.

The friends look at each other slightly before turning to talk to you.

“Look… It's been 5 months right?” She says carefully, trying to gauge your reaction.

You nod, not quite understand where this conversation was headed.

“And you haven't had sex?” Her question earns a groan from you as you keep tidying up.

“No we haven't, there's no deadline is there?” You ask sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

You didn't get why people put this timeline in front of you for no reason. Why couldn't you two just go at your own pace?

You were aware of Vi's past, and had a healthy dose of skepticism before you two started exclusively dating but she proved herself time and time again.

By this point you trusted her completely, which is why your friend’s unnecessary comment annoyed you.

“We're just looking out for you girlie, intimacy is important you know!” She says, trying to cover for the other friend.

Just as you were about to respond, the doorbell rings.

“She's here! "Bye!" You hang up before they get the chance to say anything, rushing to the door with a grin.

———————————————————————————

Vi nervously shuffles from foot to foot, the plans that were previously swirling around in her head now plummet to the ground at the sight of you.

She's more nervous than usual, smiling sheepishly as you hug, wiping her hands on her pants when you aren't looking, running her hands through her hair enough times to probably make it greasy despite her definitely showering properly before coming here god why was she such a mess?

You didn't seem to notice, or maybe you did and just didn't want to comment on it. Maybe you found her so disgusting it turned you off?

“Do you like it?” You smile, showing her how you've decorated the place.

You pull her out of this anxious trance, as she looks around.

You had put in so much effort, for her? She hugs you gently.

“Thank you baby, happy 5 month anniversary.” You say sweetly, kissing her cheek gently.

Vi usually loves it when you kiss her cheek, it's a comfortable way to show intimacy, but now it's gotten to her. What if you kiss her other places instead of her lips on purpose?

Vi fidgets, picking at the skin of her scabbed knuckles.

You place the gifts you've wrapped neatly in front of Vi, smiling.

“Open it!” You coo, smiling as she takes the gifts, opening them.

The first gift is a bunny plushie dressed up as a hockey player, including the puck and the ball. You smile, proud that you got your girlfriend something she'd enjoy having.

A smile creeps up the pinkettes face. “Thank you babe.” Her hand reaches for yours, kissing it gently.

You giggle, enjoying her chivalrous ways of thanking you.

“I could thank you in other ways, you know?” Her voice gets low, watching your body language as she turns your hand, kissing up your forearm.

You shiver slightly, your breath labored ever so slightly.

“What- what are you doing?” the words slipped out, slightly shocked.

The pink haired girl freezes, looking up at you as she slowly pulls her lips away.

“I'm sorry I thought you wanted-” She begins, her eyes searching your face as the tears sting behind them.

A worried expression paints your face as you move closer towards your girlfriend.

“Thought I wanted what?” You ask softly, looking up at her.

“We've been together for almost half a year and we haven't had sex!” She blurts out, the words hanging in the air for a beat too long.

“There's no deadline, Vi.” You reassure her, grabbing her face gently, letting your thumbs caress her soft cheeks.

“But haven't you been waiting?” The pinkette asks, the statements from her teammates sticking to her like glue.

“To have sex? no?” You answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like sex was just something you randomly chose one day to want. Like it hadn't been plaguing your mind like her teammates said it had.

“But they said…” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Who's they, Vi?”

“... "My teammates."

You groan, having made it clear that you've never liked them a long time ago.

“Violet Vanderson, listen to me alright?” You say sternly, yet your voice is laced with love.

“I’d love you even if you told me you never wanted to have sex” You say, matter of factly. Her eyes water as your thumb reaches up to wipe it away.

“You mean more to me than that, you know that right?” You reassure, search her face for any sign of her taking your words into account.

Her tough exterior finally crumbles, her face scrunching up as she cries, her face in your hands. You pull her into a hug, soothing her gently.

All those years, only being pursued for one thing, convinced her she wouldn't find someone who wanted her for more than that. Someone who would hold her while she cries in a kitchen decorated to celebrate their 5 month anniversary.

“I love you, not just what you can give me. I love all of you.” You cooed gently, kissing her hair.

“I love you too.” She sobbed, burrying her head in the crook of your neck.

———————————————————————————

You stay like that for a while,embracing each other as your hands drawing soothing circles on her back ever so gently.

When the pinkette looks up at you, her glossy powder blue eyes slightly red from all the crying, you simply smile.

“Do you want to sit on the couch? you still haven't opened the other present I got you.” You coo softly, kissing away the remaining tears.

Vi closes her eyes for a moment, soaking in the kisses, as if the soft plush of your lips would heal the wounds deep in her soul.

Without any warning she simply picks you up, playfully running over to the couch with you.

You laugh, playfully scolding her to slow down so she doesn't drop you. Your girlfriend gets the gift you got her as she sits down, placing you on her lap.

You turn to face her, straddling her lap to see her reaction better. “Go on, open it.” You urge her impatiently as she laughs.

“Calm down princess, I will.” She smirks, unwrapping the gift gently. The neat wrapping is undone carefully, a silent appreciation for your wrapping skills.

Her smirk widens into a smile as she opens the small box, finding a silver necklace with a violet colored stone inside.

“I know you don't wear these kinds of necklaces very often but it reminded me of you and-” her soft lips met yours before you were able to finish your sentence.

It wasn't rushed, heated, hungry or ranchy like she had planned it to be before she entered your dorm.

It was simple, sweet and loving, and she wouldn't want it to be any other way.

She takes notices of you smiling in the kiss, smiling as well. Vi’s unending stamina takes a toll on you as you gently pull away, needing air.

“So I take it you liked the gift?” You say in-between catching your breath.

“Liked is an understatement. I loved it, thank you so much.”

“I can put it on you if you want?” You suggest, gently taking the necklace out of her hands.

Vi nods as you lean in, breathing in the smell of your perfume as you lock the necklace.

You place a kiss on her neck, a gentle peck.

“It tickles,” she responds, grinning

“I love you” You murmur gently, pulling away

Vi hums gently in response

“The necklace looks really good on you, violet on violet.” You grin.

The pinkettes blue eyes roll at you, caressing your hips gently.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You ask, turning around to reach for the remote.

“Sure, why don't you pick something princess?” She murmurs gently, placing her chin on your shoulder.

The tv glows gently as the time flies by as you watch the movie, occasionally switching positions as you talk about everything and nothing at all.

The credits roll on the tv screen, Vi spooning you gently. She peaks over your shoulder to check-in on you only to see you sleeping. She smiles, kissing the top of your head gently as she closes her eyes.

———————————————————————————

She's convinced their coach hates them when the fluorescent lights in the ice rink attacked her eyes early in the morning.

The harsh sounds of the ice-skating blades slashing through the ice echo throughout the rink, in sync with the swish from the hockey stick perfectly leading the puck through the different obstacle courses.

At some point during the practice you had come, holding a water bottle as you waved excitedly waiting for her to see you.

Her heart skipped a beat as her powder blue eyes met yours. You came to her practice, with water.

Such a small gesture, yet so considerate.

You really did care.

Your gaze kept Vi in a trance —well until Coach Sevika came over— momentarily distracting her.

Maddie skates up next to her, nudging her slightly

“Hey Vi, you got any action last night?” Maddie snickers.

Vi smirks “Why, do you need any tips?” She shoots back.

Her teammates all collectively ‘ooo’ and Maddie scoffs, crossing her arms.

“N-no! me and Caitlyn are doing just fine!”

“If you must know, we watched a movie and fell asleep.”

Her teammates quiet down.

“and that's.. that alright with you?” Another one of them quipped, gauging Vi's reaction.

“Yeah. We're taking things at our own pace. One step at a time.” She answers, smiling as she looks up at you again.

Besides, there's no deadline, is there?

Taglist : @lolitalovess @korn-dawg @usuck

[slushycoookie]

You hate thunderstorms...

Sukuna thinks it's idiotic. The weather is natural. Whenever lightning strikes, thunder is sure to follow soon after. The rumbling sound soothes him and reminds him that he's not the only powerful entity out there.

You, on the other hand, emanate the living body of anxiety.

He never believes you when you say you're okay, and tonight isn't any different. The rain pours outside the estate, creating ponds throughout the land. You're looking out warily while your hands bunch under your clothes.

Sukuna only watches your fear, chin resting on his palm. While he gets amused at other people's fear, yours makes him…uneasy. It's not as fun when his wife is cowering in the corner due to a heavy storm.

“Come here.” The tone is his voice is soft compared to the command.

You hurry up and retreat to his side, not latching onto him just yet. He feels you grip the side of his robes for reassurance.

“It's ridiculous how you snivel like this every time.”

You didn't glare at him as you usually do. Instead, you keep looking towards the windows. “You know I'm not fond of loud sounds.”

“A flaw I have overlooked.” He raises a brow at your snort. “No one is perfect.”

“Says the man who has a perfect body.”

When you finally look at him, you're met with his scowl. “My body isn't perfect. Who has been saying it is?”

“No one…”

It is a small lie, one that he'll push when you're not surrounded by fear. Sukuna grunts, looking out at the same windows you are.

“You know of those green creatures in the garden? The ones that settle by the bellflowers?”

A pause occurs because of a quick flash of lightning and you move closer to him. He places a firm hand on your back when you shake a little at the loud noise. After a few moments, you continue the conversation.

“The…preying mantis?”

Sukuna nods, “I despise them. I have seen many horrifying things in this world, but they are not ones I wish to see so often. Their only redeeming quality is that the female removes the male's head after intercourse. Even then, I try my best to avoid them in the garden.”

You giggle. He doesn’t admit how the sound fills his chest. “Who would've thought you're afraid of a preying mantis?”

“I am not perfect.”

Sukuna wants to hold you closer once he sees your smile. Multiple flashes occur in his line of sight. Before you can react, he covers your ears when a slew of thunderous noises quake the earth. You rest your hands on top of his to hold them tighter. To block out the sound.

When the rumbling is gone, his hands remain. If this would help you overcome the heavy storm, he'd do this for you all night. But your hands pull his away from your ears, holding them momentarily.

“Thank you for telling me that. It was sweet of you to do so.”

Sukuna glances away, “We have been married for some time now. It is good to learn more about your spouse.”

“You’re right.” You kiss the inside of his palm, “But you didn't have to do that.”

He didn't. If he didn't care for you, he would've left you on your own to suffer, damaging the relationship. Sukuna doesn't say anything. He scoops you up and on his lap, an arm around you for protection. Your ears are covered when another flash occurs.

Sukuna decides to never leave your side. Not until the storm lessens and the shakes no longer occur. He might as well. He is your husband after all.

[littledykeblue]

──𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄-𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄;

(college roommates! vi x reader): vi gets a little frisky at the drive in

wc: 3k | cw: kinda enemies to lovers, but like not really enemies, heavy petting, fingering (r!receiving), light degradation, car sex (in the bed of a truck) MINORS DNI.

note: vi, my beloved, simply had to be next up! also thank you guys for all the love on my first post!! kissing each and everyone of u telepathically <3

You wouldn’t exactly say you’re friends with your dorm mate.

Vi is loud, popular, and constantly flitting around campus like the social butterfly she was clearly born to be. Half the time, she's crashing at a friend’s—or a hookup’s—place, so it’s already pretty rare to see her on the regular.

If anything, you’d say life is easier when Vi’s not around. It’s nearly impossible to get any studying or homework done in her presence. And it’s not just the videos she insists on watching at what feels like full blast or the endless stream of calls she takes on speakerphone for reasons you still can’t comprehend.

It’s the doing push-ups shirtless in the middle of the room. It’s the rare (but no less horrifying) occasions she brings a girl back and thinks she’s being subtle about it. Worse than both? When she decides to talk to you.

She never picks a time when you’re actually free. Never cares if you're neck-deep in coursework. She’ll plop herself into your desk chair (or your bed, whichever’s unoccupied) and lob the most inane questions at you.

"You studying?" she asks, despite the open laptop in front of you and the mess of notes scattered across your comforter.

You glance up with a withering look, irritation already prickling at the edges of your patience. It’s not entirely her fault, but she’s definitely not helping.

"No, I just keep all this out for the fun of it." Your tone is dry, bordering on rude. Vi, as always, takes it in stride.

The corner of her mouth lifts, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Woah, firecracker. Somebody’s in a mood."

You hum noncommittally, trying to drag your focus back to the same damn paragraph you've been stuck on since she barged in. Vi, unsurprisingly, isn’t content to be ignored.

“Know what you need?” she says, standing and casually closing your laptop with two fingers. For one dark moment, you genuinely consider the logistics of getting away with murder.

“I seriously doubt you have any idea,” you snap, prying your laptop back open. “Don’t you have, like, a million other girls you could go bother?”

Vi shrugs, grinning like the question only flatters her. “Yeah, but none of them are you.”

A traitorous flutter sparks low in your stomach. Fuck her.

“Wow. That line usually work for you?”

“You think I’m using a line? I’m wounded.”

“Vi.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question only seems to delight her.

She pauses, pretending to think it over, longer than necessary, just to be annoying. “I was gonna catch a movie with my friend, but she bailed. Come with me.”

You consider, once again, pointing out that she has no shortage of people she could drag along. But something tells you it’d be an exercise in futility.

“Fine. If it gets you out of my face.”

“Wonderful. Catch ya later, roomie!” Vi hops to her feet, pretending like she’s going to shut your laptop again—laughing when you scramble to keep it open.

You watch her leave, resisting the urge to throw something at the door after it clicks shut. Once the whirlwind that is Vi is gone, the silence feels almost sacred. You manage to actually focus, knocking out a good chunk of your work during the blessed hours of reprieve.

It’s nearing seven when you get a text from Vi telling you to start getting ready.

You’d exchanged numbers strictly for practical reasons—shared dorm emergencies, class reminders, the occasional “come let me in.” Definitely not for this.

Still, you don’t argue. You’re not about to dress up either; it’s just a movie. The theater will be dark, and more importantly, this outing is purely transactional. You're earning yourself some peace. That’s the story you’re sticking to.

You stuff your phone, wallet, and keys into the pockets of your sweatpants and head out to meet her out front, just like she told you to.

Vi’s there, leaning against her truck, scrolling through her phone. You walk up and swat at the device—not hard enough to knock it from her hand, but just enough to make her fumble it.

“You’re so funny,” she says dryly, slipping it into her pocket. She opens the car door for you with an exaggerated flourish.

"I learned from the best."

"Aw, you think I'm the best?" Vi holds a hand to her chest and smiles wide.

You narrow your eyes at her. "The best at being annoying."

“I love this little back-and-forth we’ve got going,” she says as she closes the door behind you.

Vi rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat like she’s done it a hundred times. Her grin flashes sideways.

“You ready?”

You buckle in, side-eyeing her with suspicion. “Yep.”

When Vi said “catch a movie,” you, perhaps foolishly, assumed she meant a regular theater. Popcorn. Reclining seats. A sticky floor or two.

Instead, she pulls into a drive-in.

The truck eases into a spot with the bed facing the massive screen. A few other cars are scattered around, but Vi finds a space tucked away from the nearest cluster.

She’s out of the driver’s seat in a flash, and before you can even reach for the handle, she’s at your side, swinging your door open. Weirdly date-like.

The two of you make your way to the back of the truck, and before you can climb in on your own, Vi’s hands settle at your waist. With little warning, she lifts you easily into the bed of the truck like it’s nothing.

Now you’re seated beside her, knees brushing, thighs nearly touching. You're close enough to feel the radiant warmth rolling off her body. The whole thing suddenly feels incredibly intimate. You’re not sure if Vi means for it to feel that way…and that’s maybe the worst part.

You barely have time to untangle the knot in your stomach before a breeze cuts through your sweatshirt, making you shiver. Of course, you hadn’t thought to bring a jacket.

Vi notices immediately. Without saying a word, she grabs a blanket from beside her and tosses it over your lap, casual as ever. You shift under it, trying to find a comfortable position—and in doing so, end up pressed flush against her.

It’s awkward, kind of. Your shoulders don’t sit quite right, and there’s only so much blanket. Vi adjusts first, lifting an arm and curling it around your shoulders. You follow instinctively, arm sliding behind her back so you can rest your head on her chest.

She’s warm. Unfairly so. You soak it in, entirely greedy.

You are trying to watch the movie. Honestly. But Vi’s fingertips are now tracing lazy, featherlight shapes along your shoulder, and it’s impossible to focus. Your heart taps out an anxious rhythm against your ribs.

Vi makes a comment about something on-screen—funny, probably—but you don’t catch it. You tilt your head, intending to ask her to repeat herself, only to realize her face is right there.

Close. Too close.

She’s beautiful, obviously. You’ve known that. But it’s a different kind of dangerous seeing her like this: soft smile on her lips, eyes dipping to your mouth, like she’s already halfway to deciding.

You quickly avert your gaze, suddenly and profoundly invested in the movie. The screen blurs slightly, but you commit yourself to pretending it’s the most riveting film you've ever seen. Still, you're sitting noticeably more tense than before, shoulders stiff, muscles locked, for the next thirty minutes.

“My arm’s falling asleep,” Vi murmurs. “Here, uh, sit like this.”

She doesn't wait for a response. Of course she doesn't. She starts manhandling you like it’s just a normal, everyday activity—like rearranging throw pillows. Within seconds, you’re guided to sit snugly between her legs, her hands steering you as though you belong there.

You sit up ramrod straight, carefully avoiding any real contact with her front because that would be insane. That would probably be the final nail in the coffin, so to speak.

Vi, apparently, did not get that memo.

Because it’s not long before her arms are curling around your waist, slow and deliberate, pulling you gently back until your spine meets her chest. “Sit back,” she says, voice a low hum in your ear, something warm and unplaceable blooming in your chest. "Can't see the screen past your giant head."

"You're one to talk," you bite back with none of your usual heat.

You let yourself relax, just a little. Her hands don’t leave your waist. They start tracing lazy, absentminded shapes, drifting higher in barely-there passes. One finger skims across your sternum, then lingers at the edge of something more. Brushing, just once, beneath the swell of your breast.

“Hey, Vi,” you murmur, voice quieter than you meant it to be.

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“I don’t know about you,” she replies, deadpan, her breath warm against the shell of your ear, “but I’m trying to touch your boobs, if I’m honest.” You feel her shrug behind you.

“Can I?”

“That usually work for you?” you ask, arching a brow even though she can’t see it.

Vi chuckles, low and smug, and you feel it vibrate right through your spine. God, of course that laugh is working on you right now.

“Works better when they can see me,” she says, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “Puppy dog eyes’ll get you pretty far.”

You roll your eyes and reach down, placing your hands on top of hers. “I don’t think you’re supposed to admit you have puppy dog eyes. Takes away the charm.”

“You asked,” she says, laughing again. She sucks in a sharp breath as you guide her hands under your shirt. “Guess I don’t really need ‘em now.”

“Guess not,” you breathe, relaxing fully into her as her palms slide up, rough and warm.

She pushes under your bra with slow, sure hands, and you can feel her exhale against your neck.

Her fingers curve around your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in teasing little circles before she rolls them between her fingers, slow and deliberate.

You suck in a breath, shifting in her lap.

Her mouth finds your neck, lips brushing the skin just below your ear. She kisses you there, soft and warm, then again, a little lower, with just the ghost of teeth. Her hands are everywhere now — one pinching lightly, the other kneading and groping, and it’s taking everything in you to stay quiet under the thin blanket.

Then you feel her hand begin to drift, trailing down your stomach with aching patience, fingers brushing the waistband of your sweatpants.

She pulls her mouth away from your neck just long enough to ask, voice husky and careful: “This okay? I'd like a real answer, this time.”

You nod, a little too quickly, arching your back slightly into her hand. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”

Vi presses a kiss to your jaw, a quiet thank you, before her hand slides past the waistband. Her other hand doesn’t stop working your nipple, thumb flicking it with practiced ease as her fingers dip lower.

You gasp softly, shifting your hips as her hand finds its way between your legs.

Vi exhales like she’s been waiting for this forever. “Gotta be quiet, baby. We don't wanna get caught,” she whispers, mouth back on your throat.

Vi’s fingers slide lower, finally dipping between your legs — but she doesn’t go deep. Just runs a single finger slowly through your folds, dragging slick up and down with maddening patience.

You twitch in her lap, breath catching. “Vi,” you whine.

“Shhh,” she hums, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Her finger brushes your clit barely and then circles it. Lazy, light, not nearly enough pressure to do anything but tease.

“God, come on—”

She laughs softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Begging already?” she murmurs, lips ghosting over your ear. “Thought you liked acting like you hate me.”

You scoff, shifting your hips again, trying to chase more pressure. Her hand doesn’t budge. “You’re infuriating.”

Vi clicks her tongue, still circling, still maddeningly soft. “You’re always so mean to me, you know that?” she says, voice low and calm, like she’s not slowly unraveling you in the back of a truck. “Always rolling your eyes when I talk to you. Never smile when I say hi. Always got that nasty little attitude.”

Your jaw clenches. “You’re always interrupting my work—”

“Seriously? You still complaining?” Vi cuts in, and then she presses down on your clit, two fingers now moving in firm, tight circles.

Your breath stutters. Words die in your throat.

Vi grins, satisfied. “That shut you up.”

Your hands fly to her thighs, gripping tight, trying to ground yourself as she keeps the pace steady and devastating. Your head tips back against her shoulder, mouth open, eyes wide at the sudden rush of sensation.

She kisses your neck again. The pressure is firmer this time, tongue dragging over the skin before she sinks her teeth in just enough to leave a mark. She sucks there, slow and dark, her free hand sliding up to your chest again, palm curling around your breast as her other hand stays merciless on your clit.

“Lot of complaints,” she says against your throat, lips brushing over the new bruise. “For someone who clearly wants me to make them come.”

You gasp, legs trembling under the blanket. She’s right and she knows it. You hate how much she knows it.

But you’re past the point of arguing now. "That'd be nice," you say through clenched teeth, keeping down the sounds that threaten to spill from your mouth.

Vi keeps her fingers moving in those devastating, tight circles—not too fast, not too slow. Just enough to keep you on the edge, just enough to keep your thighs twitching and your breathing shallow.

"I bet it pisses you off that I've got you this wet," she murmurs, her voice thick with smug satisfaction. "And you act like you can't stand me. What's that about, huh?"

You groan under your breath, hips twitching again as she dips just low enough to press at your entrance, teasing it without pushing in.

She laughs softly, low in your ear. “Bet you were getting wet the second I touched you. Just too proud to admit it.”

You bite your lip and say nothing. You shift, lifting your legs and hooking them around the outside of Vi’s, knees wide, body fully open for her. Thank god she parked far enough away from any potential prying eyes.

Vi's breath stutters as her hand slips back between your legs, now with nothing in her way.

“Oh,” she whispers, a grin curling into her voice. “Look at you. Finally acting like you want it.”

You squirm, half in protest, half in need, and Vi presses two fingers inside in one smooth thrust. You gasp, body tightening, walls fluttering around her.

"Do you ever shut up?" You manage to say in spite of your wobbly voice.

She groans in your ear. “I think you like it when I talk. This pussy does, at least.”

You don’t mean to moan (not that loud, at least) but it punches out of you anyway, high and helpless.

Vi’s hand shoots up to the back of your neck, turning your face toward hers in the same second her mouth crashes over yours. Her kiss swallows the sound, all teeth and tongue and filthy satisfaction.

She fucks you with her fingers harder now, thrusts quick and precise, of her palm grinding against your clit. Her mouth stays on yours, swallowing every broken gasp, every hitched breath, every moan you can’t keep down.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she murmurs against your lips, her pace relentless. “So desperate for it. Can’t even pretend anymore, can you?”

All you can manage is a broken moan that vaguely resembles her name. Over and over again, breathless against her lips.

Your hands dig into her thighs for something to hold onto, nails biting through the fabric of her pants. Your hips lift into her, chasing every stroke, every drag of her palm. You’re close. So close your whole body is taut with the anticipation.

Vi feels it—has to—because her voice drops again, filthy and sweet at the same time. “C’mon, baby. I got you. Make a mess all over my fingers. You wanna come for me?”

You nod frantically into her mouth, legs trembling, body pulsing around her fingers. "Yes. Fuck. Please."

“That’s it,” she says, voice low and hot. “You're being so sweet for me. Go ahead, come.”

And you do.

It crashes through you, thighs quaking with the urge to press together, mouth going slack as your orgasm rips out of you. Vi keeps her hand moving through it, fingers working you through to the end while her mouth swallows the sound of your release.

When you finally go still, breathing hard, body limp, sweat cooling on your neck, Vi presses a final kiss to your lips and pulls back just enough to grin down at you.

“You gonna be nice to me now?” she asks, voice smug and breathless.

"Probably not."

Vi laughs as she eases her fingers out of you slowly, deliberately, dragging every last shiver from your overstimmed body.

She sucks her fingers clean, totally unbothered, and leans back against the bed of the truck like she didn’t just finger-fuck you in public.

You’re still catching your breath, chest rising and falling under the blanket, when Vi leans in and murmurs, “When we get back to the dorm, I’m gonna take my time with you.”

You blink, dazed, half-laughing. “Oh? You're thinking this wasn't the first and last time?”

She grins. “Nah. That was a warm-up. When we get back, I’m gonna have you naked and on your stomach, legs spread, begging. And I’m not gonna stop until I hear every pretty little sound you can make. Gonna keep going ‘til you’re sobbing into the pillow.”

You exhale sharply, lips twitching as you try not to let the flush crawl up your neck. “That so?”

“Mhm.” She nips at your jaw, just a little. “Might even let you come twice.”

You snort, leaning your head back against her shoulder. “And this is assuming I just lay there and let you do all those things?"

Vi tilts her head mockingly. “You literally just did.”

You glare at her, and she grins wider.

“Well,” you say, still breathless but trying to reclaim some ground, “you’ll have to earn your second chance. I can't be out here rewarding bad behavior, after all.”

Vi scoffs and shakes her head, laughing under her breath. “Unbelievable. You were just coming and whining on my fingers like a slut, and you’re still talking shit?”

You shrug, biting back a smile. “Guess you’ll have to do a better job if you want to shut me up.”

Vi leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “Clearly. Don't worry, we'll fuck that attitude out of you yet.”

You shiver, despite the warmth of her hoodie and her body at your back.

“Can’t wait to see you try,” you murmur.

[sevsevteen]

Back then, you were a little gremlin in oversized sweatpants and way too much attitude for someone barely of age.

“Yah!” Seungcheol’s voice bellowed from the hallway, the third time that day. “This is your third missed practice this week - are you serious right now?!”

You rolled your eyes, lazily pulling your hoodie over your head. “I wasn’t missing practice,” you muttered under your breath. “I had something to do after school.”

“You were at the convenience store eating instant noodles!” Jihoon called out from the studio entrance, holding up a half-empty cup you'd left behind.

“Still counts,” you huffed, slinking back into the room, zero shame in your posture as you plopped onto the floor gracefully, as if your ear hadn't tore your ears off right before.

The older members groaned in unison.

“You’re going to give Seungcheol grey hair before debut,” Jeonghan muttered, massaging his temples.

“Me?” You gasped. “I’m helping him pre-age.”

When the manager returned from a meeting later that afternoon and asked how rehearsals were going, you gave him a thumbs up and said, “Teamwork makes the dream work!”

Behind you, Seungcheol visibly mouthed, Help me.

It was later that night that you snuck out your room past lights-out timing, crawling across the floor in full spy mode, and dumping a full bag of glitter into the shared shampoo bottle.

“Why is my head SPARKLING?” Seokmin screeched the next morning, towel around his neck, hair dripping with disco ball residue.

Joshua squinted at him. “You look like you fought a unicorn in the shower.”

Soonyoung turned to you, who sat cross-legged on the floor, chewing gum with feigned innocence.

“Why are you looking at me? You have no evidence.”

Joshua? Had his toothpaste swapped with wasabi paste a week later.

One night, they found you hiding in the supply closet, mid-text to Jun about “fake stomach cramps” because you refused to do conditioning.

“Hey,” Seungcheol said from the doorway, arms crossed.

“...I have an allergy,” you deadpanned.

“To what?”

“Authority.”

.

And yet - despite the chaos, the late-night lectures, the silent treatment from a furious Jun once because you sabotaged his water bottle with vinegar, they never pushed you away.

Until it did.

Perhaps your true villain arc peaked then. Because you swore it had started out like every other prank, every other dumb teen instinct to feel untouchable. The world felt like a sandbox you could dig into without consequence.

So when your old school friends dared you to skip training again and “do something fun for once,” you didn’t hesitate. You pulled a mask over your face, hoodie up, and snuck off into the city night like the chaos incarnate you believed yourself to be.

You held cans of spray paint. Loud music in one pocket, cheap energy drinks in the other. Somewhere in a quiet alleyway, far from the agency’s radar, the group of you left trails of color behind - tagging walls, drawing dumb phrases in neon, laughing into the silence like you were invincible.

You didn’t even think about who those walls belonged to.

Not until the police sirens flashed behind you.

Your heart dropped. Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore.

The cuffs were cold on your wrists. The alley that once felt like a playground now closed in on you like a trap. You kept your head low when the officers called the company.

Kept it lower when you saw Seungcheol walk into the station lobby.

He didn’t speak to you at first. Just signed the papers. Took a deep breath. Thanked the officers. And then turned to you, eyes unreadable.

The ride back was silent.

Not angry.

Not disappointed.

Just…hollow.

That was worse.

.

You sat in the bedroom alone after you returned, guilt eating you from the inside out. Everyone else had heard by now, and Seungcheol still refused to hold a conversation with you. The dorm was quiet. Like even the air was careful around you.

When Jeonghan finally came in, he didn’t yell. He didn’t joke. He just sat beside you, looked at your red-rimmed eyes, and said softly:

“You could’ve been in real danger, you know. Seungcheol and Jihoon's talking to the company about your expulsion right now.”

“I didn’t think,” you whispered. “I just…didn’t think anyone cared what I did.”

His voice cracked, low and pained.

“We all care.”

You looked up, finally meeting his eyes.

.

You trained harder after that.

Not to prove yourself.

Not to repent.

But because you wanted to be someone they didn’t have to worry about.

Someone they could trust again.

There were tough days. Days you didn’t listen. Days you walked out of the room mid-discussion, frustrated with rules and pressure and all the weight of growing up under a spotlight.

But behind every scolding, every punishment, was a member gently slipping a snack into your hoodie pocket. A word of advice muttered when the cameras weren’t rolling. A hand patting you on the back when you sat alone on the practice room floor after being yelled at.

And slowly, with every sincere action, with every practice where you pushed yourself till your limbs ached – you grew up.

You never touched a can of paint again.

And slowly, that rebellious flame? Learned to burn brighter in the right direction.

.

And years later, Mingyu bought you a canvas and a paintbrush on your birthday with a cheeky smile - “For artistic purposes only, I promise” - you laughed so hard you cried.

--

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wanderlust 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, kidnap, size difference/kink, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You go travelling to get some world experience but you don't get the one you're expecting.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Bucky Barnes (reader in 30s, short!)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You’re not afraid of flying, just not a fan of travel. It would be nice to go out and do more but the reality of getting there often deters you. Not this time. You finally bit the bullet and bought the ticket. 

Thirty isn’t old. You know that but it feels like a good time to start doing things. Your twenties went fast in hindsight, even if they felt like a slog. Miserable, emotional, and near disastrous. 

You have your first steady job, bills aren’t tight enough to strangle you, and it’s about time you did something just for you. Everyone is obsessed with ‘self-care’. Are you finally on trend? 

You shuffle along with the slow trawl of passengers. You look for your seat by the number on your ticket, holding up your phone awkwardly to compare. Your compact suitcase hangs from your vice grip as you haul it along, the wheels hitting your heel. 

You stop as you find your assigned seat. Hm. Middle seat. Headphones on and you’ll be fine, you’re sure. You reach up to open the overhead, just barely able to pop it open. 

Your carryon threatens to slide off your arm. You ignore it and bend to grab your suitcase. You watched a bunch of tutorials on how not to overpack. As you grip it, your bag slips down your arm and you lift the suitcase overhead. You hit the edge and it bounces back, nearly landing on your head. 

You brace for impact. The weight lightens in your grasp. A man grunts as you look up and see a large hand hooked on your bag. A pinky ring shines back at you. 

“Careful,” he warns. “Here, let me get it.” 

He uses his other hand to push it up and slides it out of your grip into the compartment. You watch, embarrassed. You can try to do things yourself but you still end up in the way. 

“Thanks, uh, sorry.” You eke out. 

You turn and sidle into the row of seat. You cradle your carryon as you do. You sit and hug it as you wait for the man to pass. He doesn’t. He follows. 

“I’m in the window.” He points casually. 

“Oh? Uh... my bad.” You flatten yourself as he turns and he brushes against the seat in front of you to get past. Unlike you, he’s too big for the cramped coach row. 

He sighs as he sits down. He shifts around as he gets comfortable. He flips up the window cover and rolls his head so his neck cracks. He pushes his feet out as far as they can go. 

He must be a frequent flyer. He seems perfectly at ease. Meanwhile, you’re twenty steps ahead in your mind.  

You need the flight to land, then you need to get your bag back. You don’t expect getting it down to be any easier. Then you have get through the airport, show your passport, and fine a taxi. Then the hotel, unpack, review itinerary for tomorrow. 

The more you think about it, it doesn’t seem so fun. Sure, you’ll get to see all sorts of cool things, but that’s only if you don’t get lost. You wiggle your foot nervously and put your elbow on the armrest, only to hit that of your seat neighbour. You apologise and let your arm hang at your side. 

“No problem,” his silty tone tickles your ears. “You scared of flying?” 

“Huh?” You look at him and follow his own gaze to your foot. You still it. “No, just... travelling is stressful. I’ll try not to bother too much.” 

You put your hands on your knees, as if holding yourself still. 

“Isn’t it?” He chuckles. “Can’t make anything easy these days.” 

“Mhmm,” you nod. You’re not the greatest with strangers either. Thirty years old and you’re still just as clueless as you were a decade ago. 

“Nick,” he says.  

You flinch as you see something at the edge of your vision. He offers his hand. You stare at it before you shake it. You’ve never been one for the outdated gesture but you’re too meek to refuse it. 

You shake his hand and give your own name. He grins and you turn your head straight. He’s not a bad looking guy but you shouldn’t think about it. He’s older. You can just tell. Not just the crinkles beside his eyes or the light lines in his forehead, it’s his confidence. Maybe this trip can help you find your own. 

“Pretty,” he says. “What’s in New York?” 

You hesitate before you understand his question. You sniff and fidget. “I’m a tourist. Just wanna see some historical stuff. Brooklyn Bridge, an old jazz bar... “ 

“Huh. All alone?” He wonders. 

You open your mouth to answer then pause. “Meeting friends,” you utter cautiously. 

“Girls’ trip. Fun,” he says. “Business. Again. Always got me back and forth.” 

He leans on the armrest and pushes his shoulders back into the seat. His knee breaks the boundary of your seats, pressing against your own. You try not to pull away too obviously. 

The overhead snaps shut and startles you. Another man drops into the seat on your other side. He huffs as he sits. He’s as big as your other neighbour, maybe a bit thicker. 

Where Nick has short tidy hair and subtle shadow of stubble coming through, this man has a thick beard and hair to his shoulders, there's some silver woven into both. He looks agitated as his cheek ticks and a woman’s bag nearly hits him. He swats the D&G luggage out of his face and growls. 

Your foot begins to go again. You only realise as the man sighs again. You cross your ankles and shrink down. 

Another bag comes close to the aisle passengers face and he grits, “watch it.” 

Nick snickers. The man slowly turns his head, eyes drifting over darkly. You glance between them, then to the back of the seat ahead of you. 

“Wanna switch?” Nick offers. 

The other man puffs through his nose, “don’t bother.” 

“Well, let me know.” Nick says coolly. “We were just sharing out gripes about travelling. Fun, isn’t it?” 

The man in the aisle seat curls his lip, “I guess.” He curls a finger and pushes down with his thumb until his knuckle cracks. “You too on a honeymoon or something?” 

Nick laughs, you look at him in shock. 

“Just met. Solo riders.” Nick answers. You’ll let him do the talking. 

The other man clucks. Nick reaches across you. “Nick.” 

His hand is ignored. He retracts it with a soft scoff. Nick introduces you next. The other man exhales loudly. 

“Bucky,” he says. “Keep the lights off and the noise down.” 

He leans back, his arm thick enough that it fills more than the armrest. He pushes his shoulders wide and leans his head back. He closes his eyes and you flick your thumbs nervously. 

You unzip your bag and search for your headphones. The aisles empty out and the attendants begin their pre-flight routine. As the plane thrums, the safety presentation begins. You keep your headphones around your neck. 

You buckle in, Nick does too. Bucky does it without opening his eyes. You shift and wait for takeoff. 

“Wanna look out the window as we lift off?” Nick offers. “You can lean over me.” 

“All good.” You assure him. “Thanks. 

“I don’t mind,” he says. 

“Really, it’s fine.” 

A low rumble comes from your other side. You seal your lips and push the button on your headphones. You go to lift them over your ears. 

“You listen to music or podcasts?” Nick asks before you can put them on. 

You lower them down, keeping your hands on them. “Music.” You answer quietly, mindful of the man on your other side. 

“Oh? Let me guess, Olivia Rodrigo?” He suggests. 

You shrug and shake your head, “never heard of them.” 

He snorts, “really? Hm. You look young, I thought...” 

“Just old stuff,” you answer. “Patsy Cline and whatever... boring.” 

“Boring? I don’t think so,” he muses. “All those pop stars come off the conveyor belt these days. Nothing wrong with taste.” 

You give a sheepish smile and lift your headphones again. You put them on then turn forward. You scroll your phone for your ‘most played’ playlist. You tap shuffle and sit back. 

Nick sits calm and still. He doesn’t take out his phone or try to play around with the screen in front of him. He just watches the clouds as you reach cruising height. 

Bucky is still. By the measure of the breath, you think he’s sleeping. You wonder how as you every now and then you can hear the squeal of a toddler through your music. 

The snack cart comes by. None of you get anything; Bucky doesn’t stir at all. 

Your leg sways back and forth as the flight stretches on. You check the time over and over. You knee hits Bucky’s leg as your nerves bubble. You push your legs together and peek over at him. He opens one eye; you mouth ‘sorry’. 

You chew your lip. You bite down until it hurts. The hours unfurl torturously. This is what you hate. Spending all that money to sit in a seat, overcrowded and impatient. 

The seatbelt sign flips on again. You take off your headphones as the Captain announces landing over the PA. You put them away in your carry-on and wrap your arms around the bag. 

The plane touches down with a jolt. You squeak and Nick wraps his warm hand around your wrist. You glance at him. He’s just being nice. 

“I’m okay,” you insist. 

Once the wheels stop, the restless passengers begin to disembark. Bucky is up and off, shoving past those struggling to get their bags. He’s at the front without obstacle. 

Patiently, you stand and watch your fellow travellers. Nick looms behind you. You crane around to see him. 

“I’m just waiting,” you say. 

“No problem. I’m patient.” He waves you off. “So,” he grips the seat by you. He’s close enough you can smell his cologne. “Where are you staying? East side? Uptown?” 

“Um... I’m not sure exactly. I don’t really know the city.” 

“Big place,” he comments. “Transits not too bad though. Just don’t make eye contact.” 

You nod. You’re already nervous enough. You heard all the horror stories from your mother and the headlines. 

As the aisle clears, you step out and turn to open the overhead. Nick gets it first. He takes down your bag for you. You thank him. 

You turn down the aisle as he shuts the compartment. He travels light. Or he checked his luggage. He has nothing but himself. 

You wait through the tedious disembarking and exhale deeply as you get to the ramp. Inside the airport, you follow the tides to the gates. The people disburse as you find a quiet place to order a taxi. 

“Hey,” Nick startles you as he struts across the terminal. “You looking for a cab?” 

“Oh, uh...” you lower your phone as your data won’t respond and you can’t sign into the airport WiFi. “I was just...” 

“Come on. I’ll help you flag one down the old-fashioned way. Gonna need one myself.” He insists. 

“Oh, you don’t have to--” 

“Hey, it’s no worries. You’re gonna wanna snag one before the next arrival,” he grabs your bag and extends the handle. “Come on.” 

He rolls your bag behind him as he marches away. He’s helpful if not a bit forward. You scurry after him. 

“Uh, thanks. I appreciate it.” 

“You kidding me? This place is like a city of its own. Can be overwhelming. You said you hate travelling. If I can make it easier, eh, why not?” 

You come out through the automatic doors and he slows to scan the long line of taxis and the clogged traffic of those trying to leave.  

“I got a trick, come on,” he beckons you behind him and you follow. 

“I can take my bag,” you offer. 

“Don’t worry, honey,” he carries on. “Let’s find...”  

He raises his hand to hail one of the cabs into an empty space along the curb. You look up as his fingers move but stop before you can make out the signal. Strange. 

“There we go,” he proclaims. 

A black car pulls in and the trunk pops. You frown. That doesn’t look like a cab. He puts your bag in the back and shuts the lid. You stay on the pavement. 

“Um, Nick, I think--” You stare at the tinted windows. 

He nears and puts his hand on your arm. “Stop doing that,” he pushes his jacket open with his other hand and grips the gun holstered on his belt. “Get in.” 

[ssentimentals]

hii!! congrats on 1.8k love 🎈can i request a fluffy wonwoo with number 17 please 🐈‍⬛

hiii, bebe! thank you 💜 of course you can, thank you for requesting!

prompt: 'nice tan lines.'

'wait. wait- are you actually nervous?' hoshi asks and when wonwoo doesn't say anything for solid three seconds, he squeals in delight. 'oh my god, you are!'

'shut up.' wonwoo grumbles with no heat behind it. tips of his ears are burning read now and he ducks his head, hoping at least his blush on the cheeks won't be that obvious. 'i'm not nervous.'

'uh-huh.' hoshi's grin is so wide, it fears to split his face. 'that's why you've been staring at 3 pairs of swimshorts for five minutes now. totally not because you're nervous. totally not because she is there.'

wonwoo glances towards the towel at the edge of the bed and wonders how quickly he can grab it and smack hoshi's face with it. before he can do that though his friend quickly runs away, leaving wonwoo alone. with 3 pairs of swimshorts that are all old and way too short. wonwoo glances down at his legs and groans at the very visible tan lines from his last vacation. he'll look ridiculous and usually he can bear that, but today you're coming with them for a swim and he'd rather eat can of worms than look ridiculous in front of you.

'woo?' you call, knocking on the door. 'you're in there? we all are ready, waiting for you. everything's okay?'

your concern is sweet and any other time he'd focus on how you are the one who comes up to check on him and not someone else, but he is more preoccupied with stupidly short swimshorts and his alabaster skin. he knew he should've went for short trucks in thailand. but he went with the long ones, the one ones thhat reach his knees and now skin above the knees is shockingly pale while everything below is sunkissed. god, he looks like a clown.

'okay, if you're not gonna say anything i will just break in there,' you announce. 'i don't know how, but i'll like. i don't know, push really hard, i guess.'

you sound adorably confused and he can see the slight furrow between your eyebrows as you gaze upon the door, trying to figure out how to break in. with a sigh, he grunts out: 'two minutes.'

wonwoo grits his teeth and quickly changes, not even taking a look at the mirror before swinging the door open. the sight of you steals his breath away as it always does and when you turn, taking him in, wonwoo already knows this day is going to be hell, when you chuckle: 'nice tan lines, woo.'

he groans and rolls his eyes, faking annoyance when in reality sound of your laughter sends goosebumps down his skin. 'don't.'

wonwoo knows he's staring. knows he's transfixed on the way you throw your head back while laughing, on the way your eyes crinkle in the prettiest way, on the way your body sways just a little towards him, making it so easy for him to reach out and steady you with his hand on your waist. 'you done making fun of me?' he asks jokingly. 'cause everyone is waiting.'

and maybe he gets a little bold, when his hand tightens around your waist and he pulls you bodily close to him. you look surprised and wonwoo will let you make fun of him all you want if you keep on blushing so cutely. 'so?'

you nod, a bit dazed. 'yeah, let's go.'

everyone is instantly on his ass once they see him, but wonwoo doesn't mind being the butt of the joke for once. he especiallly doesn't mind it when it makes you laugh like this, when you stay pressed to his side, cooing over his distressed expression gently. he can bear all the jokes if you keep on looking at him like that, checking whether he's offended for real or not.

'i know they are just joking,' he assures you, when hoshi says something about his thighs. 'no worries, i'm not offended. i know no one means it.'

you smile but then your eyes twinkle. 'i mean, i was not joking when i said that those tan lines are nice.'

wonwoo groans, smiling secretly when you laugh. your hand settles on his back, rubbing circles on it and yeah, he doesn't mind those stupidly short swimshorts if they got you touching him like that.

a/n: this is such a cute request, thank you for it, darling! hope you enjoyed! - nini

my other seventeen works are here

request your own here

[kenzdolls]

THOUGHTFUL DOUBTS FULL OF WOE .

⌗ synopsis: you've been feeling insecure about your relationship with jax, wondering if he's just playing games with your heart. when doubts become too much to bear, a confrontation forces both of you to face truths you've been avoiding.

⌗ pairing: (tadc) jax x reader

⌗ anon request: “Hiya! I heard you are doing requests? Can one be where reader is being insecure where she thinks that Jax maybe is playing around with their relationship and think that he isn’t serious about it? Please and thank you!”

⌗ a/n: none! requests are open.

the digital sun cast its perpetual glow through the circus tent's fabric ceiling, painting everything in that same artificial warmth that never quite felt real. you sat on the edge of your bed in your room, staring at your hands—hands that looked like they belonged to someone else in this strange digital world, yet somehow still felt like yours when they trembled.

it had been three months since you'd arrived at the amazing digital circus. three months since caine had cheerfully announced your presence to the others, three months since you'd met him. jax, with his mischievous grin and that insufferable confidence that made your heart skip beats you didn't think were possible in a digital body.

what had started as harmless teasing and shared eye-rolls during caine's adventures had evolved into something more. stolen moments in empty hallways, conversations that stretched long into the digital night, touches that lingered just a second too long to be purely platonic. you'd found yourself falling for the purple rabbit's rare moments of genuine vulnerability, the way his sarcastic exterior would crack just enough to let you glimpse the person underneath.

but lately, doubt had been eating away at you like a virus in code.

you thought about yesterday's adventure, how jax had immediately reverted to his usual chaos-causing self the moment the others were around. how he'd barely looked at you during caine's briefing, how he'd partnered with gangle instead of you for the team portion, claiming it would be "more fun to mess with the crybaby." the way he'd laughed when you'd gotten caught in one of the adventure's traps, the same laugh he gave everyone else.

was this all just a game to him? another way to stave off the boredom and madness of this place?

the questions swirled in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. you remembered overhearing ragatha and pomni talking last week about someone called kaufmo, and how jax had gone quiet when they'd mentioned another name—ribbit. you'd tried to ask him about it later, but he'd deflected with a joke and changed the subject so smoothly you'd almost forgotten to be suspicious.

almost.

a knock at your door jolted you from your spiral of thoughts. you knew that rhythm—three quick raps followed by two slower ones. jax's signature knock.

"come in," you called, trying to keep your voice steady.

the door swung open to reveal jax leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place. but his eyes—those yellow eyes that you'd learned to read like a favorite book—held something softer when they landed on you.

"well, well. look who's hiding away like some kind of hermit," he drawled, pushing himself off the doorframe and sauntering into your room. "what's got you looking like someone stole your favorite toy?"

you forced a smile, the same fake one you'd been perfecting for weeks now. "nothing's wrong. just tired from today's adventure."

jax's ears twitched slightly—a tell you'd noticed when he was picking up on something being off. he moved closer, and you caught that faint scent that somehow clung to him, something like cotton candy and mischief.

"uh-huh. and i'm actually a model citizen who follows all of caine's rules." he settled himself on your bed without invitation, those long legs of his stretching out as he leaned back on his hands. "try again, dollface."

the pet name that usually made your heart flutter now felt like salt in a wound. was it meaningless to him? just another tool in his arsenal of casual indifference?

"i said i'm fine, jax." your voice came out sharper than intended.

his eyebrows raised, and for a moment, his mask slipped. you saw genuine concern flicker across his features before the smirk returned, though it looked more forced now.

"okay, now i know something's wrong. you only use that tone when caine's being extra annoying or when zooble's hogging the good cereal." he shifted, moving closer to you on the bed. "come on, what's eating at you?"

the sincerity in his voice almost broke you. this was the jax you'd fallen for—the one who noticed when you were upset, who cared enough to ask. but it only made the doubt worse. which version was real? the caring one sitting next to you now, or the one who'd barely acknowledged your existence in front of the others?

"it's nothing you'd understand," you mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"try me." his voice was quieter now, that teasing edge completely gone. "i'm not as shallow as my devastatingly handsome exterior might suggest."

despite everything, you almost smiled at that. almost.

instead, the words came tumbling out before you could stop them. "do you even care about me, or is this all just some elaborate joke to you?"

the silence that followed was deafening. you watched jax's expression shift through several emotions—surprise, confusion, and something that might have been hurt.

"what kind of question is that?" he asked finally, his voice carefully neutral.

"an honest one." you turned to face him fully, months of pent-up insecurity spilling over. "you act like we're... like we're something when we're alone, but the second anyone else is around, i might as well be invisible. you barely look at me during adventures, you never sit with me at dinner unless there's nowhere else to sit, and when someone asks if we're together, you just laugh it off like it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard."

jax opened his mouth to respond, but you weren't done.

"i keep wondering if i'm just convenient for you. someone to pass the time with when you're bored, but not important enough to actually... to actually matter." your voice cracked on the last word, and you hated how vulnerable you sounded.

"that's not—" jax started, but you cut him off again.

"who's ribbit?"

the effect was immediate and devastating. all the color drained from jax's face, and his whole body went rigid. for a moment, he looked less like the confident troublemaker you knew and more like a scared child.

"where did you hear that name?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

"does it matter? you won't tell me anyway, right? just like you won't tell me anything real about yourself. just like you won't even admit we're... whatever we are... to anyone else." tears you didn't know you could still shed in this digital form began to blur your vision. "i'm tired of feeling like your dirty little secret. i'm tired of wondering if i'm just another game to you."

jax stared at you for a long moment, something breaking behind his eyes. when he spoke, his voice was raw in a way you'd never heard before.

"ribbit was... ribbit was my best friend. before you got here, before pomni, before most of the others. we'd been stuck in this hellhole together for what felt like years." he ran a hand through his fur, the gesture more nervous than you'd ever seen him. "we were... we were close. really close. closer than i'd ever been with anyone."

you felt your anger deflate slightly, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest.

"they started having bad days. really bad days. the kind where they'd just stare at walls for hours, or talk about how nothing felt real anymore. i tried to help, tried to keep them grounded with jokes and pranks and... and i thought i was helping." his voice broke. "one day i woke up, and their room was empty. not just empty—gone. like they'd never existed at all."

the weight of his words settled between you like a lead blanket. you'd heard whispers about people who'd been "abstracted," but you'd never heard the details, never understood what it meant for those left behind.

"the worst part," jax continued, his voice hollow, "was that caine acted like they'd never existed. none of the npcs remembered them. it was like our friendship, everything we'd shared, just... erased. like it never mattered at all."

you reached out tentatively, your fingers barely brushing his hand. he didn't pull away, but he didn't move closer either.

"jax, i'm sorry. i didn't know—"

"no, you didn't know because i didn't tell you." he finally looked at you, and the pain in his eyes was devastating. "because i'm a coward who learned that caring about people in this place just gives you more to lose."

the pieces began falling into place—his reluctance to show affection publicly, his tendency to deflect serious conversations, the walls he kept built so carefully around himself.

"so when you showed up, all bright-eyed and determined not to give up hope, i told myself i'd keep my distance. told myself i wouldn't make the same mistake twice." a bitter laugh escaped him. "fat lot of good that did me. you wormed your way past every defense i had without even trying."

"then why?" you asked, your voice small. "why do you act like i don't matter when other people are around?"

"because i'm terrified," he admitted, the words seeming to tear themselves from his throat. "i'm terrified that if i let myself care about you the way i want to, if i let everyone see how much you mean to me, then i'll lose you too. and i don't think i could survive watching someone else i love disappear into nothing."

the word 'love' hung in the air between you, unacknowledged but impossible to ignore.

"so instead you're pushing me away first," you said quietly. "making sure i leave before you can get too attached."

"i'm not—" he started to protest, then stopped, deflating. "maybe. maybe i am."

you studied his face, seeing him clearly for perhaps the first time. the vulnerability he was showing you now, the raw honesty—this was what you'd been craving. this was proof that you mattered to him.

"jax, look at me." you waited until his yellow eyes met yours. "i'm not going anywhere. and i'm not ribbit."

"you don't know that," he said desperately. "nobody knows how long they have here. nobody knows what might—"

"you're right. i don't know." you shifted closer to him on the bed, close enough that your knees touched. "none of us know what's going to happen tomorrow, or next week, or next year. but i know what's happening right now, in this moment. and right now, i'm here, and i care about you, and i want to be with you."

jax's hands were shaking slightly, and you covered them with your own.

"i understand why you're scared. and i understand why you've been keeping me at arm's length. but you're not protecting either of us by pretending we don't matter to each other. you're just making sure that whatever time we do have is wasted on doubt and fear instead of... instead of whatever this could be."

"what if i can't?" he whispered. "what if i can't stop being scared? what if i keep messing this up?"

"then we'll figure it out together." you squeezed his hands. "but i need you to try. i need you to let me in, really let me in. i need to know that i'm not just a convenient distraction."

for a long moment, jax just stared at your joined hands. when he looked up again, something had shifted in his expression. the walls weren't completely down, but there were cracks in them now—enough to let light through.

"you're not a distraction," he said quietly. "you're... god, you're everything. you're the first thing i think about when i wake up and the last thing on my mind before i go to sleep. you make this whole nightmare bearable, and that scares the hell out of me."

your heart hammered against your ribs. "then why—"

"because i'm an idiot who thought he could protect us both by pretending not to care. because i thought if i kept you at a distance, it would hurt less if something happened. but all i've done is hurt you, and i..." he took a shaky breath. "i can't stand the thought of being the reason you look sad."

"so what now?" you asked.

jax was quiet for a moment, then slowly lifted one of his hands to cup your cheek. the gesture was so tender, so careful, that it made your breath catch.

"now i try to stop being such a coward. now i stop pretending that keeping you at arm's length is protecting either of us." his thumb brushed across your cheekbone. "now i tell you that you're the best thing that's happened to me since i got trapped in this digital purgatory, and i'm sorry i've been too scared to show it."

"and the others? you'll stop pretending like we're nothing when they're around?"

he winced slightly but nodded. "it might take me some time to get used to it. being open about... feelings... isn't exactly my strong suit. but yeah. i'm tired of pretending you don't mean everything to me."

the word 'everything' sent warmth flooding through your chest. you leaned into his touch, some of the tension you'd been carrying for weeks finally beginning to ease.

"i don't need grand gestures," you said softly. "i just need to know that this is real for you. that i'm not imagining the connection between us."

"it's real," he said immediately. "more real than anything else in this fake world. you're real, and what i feel for you is real, and i'm sorry i made you doubt that."

you studied his face, looking for any sign of the deflection or insincerity that had hurt you so much. instead, you found only honesty and a vulnerability that you knew he rarely showed anyone.

"i'm sorry too," you said. "for not talking to you about this sooner. for letting my insecurities build up until i was ready to assume the worst."

"don't apologize for that. you had every right to question my intentions when i was acting like..." he paused, searching for the right words. "like someone who didn't deserve you."

"jax." you shifted even closer, until you were practically in his lap. "you do deserve to be happy. you deserve to be loved. and you deserve to love someone without being terrified that it's going to destroy you."

something in his expression crumbled at that, and suddenly his arms were around you, pulling you against his chest as if he was afraid you might disappear if he didn't hold on tight enough.

"i don't know how to do this," he mumbled into your hair. "i don't know how to be in a relationship without being terrified all the time."

"we'll learn together," you said, wrapping your own arms around him. "we'll take it one day at a time, and we'll be honest with each other, and we'll figure it out as we go."

you felt him nod against your shoulder. for a few minutes, you just held each other, soaking in the comfort of finally being open about your feelings.

"can i ask you something?" jax said eventually, pulling back to look at you.

"anything."

"that first week you were here, when caine paired us up for that stupid trust exercise and you actually trusted me not to let you fall off that platform..." he paused, a small smile playing at his lips. "did you know then? that you were going to turn my whole world upside down?"

you laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in weeks. "i had no idea. i was too busy trying not to panic about being trapped in a game to think about cute rabbit boys."

"cute?" his eyebrows raised, and there was his familiar smirk, though it was softer now, more genuine. "just cute?"

"devastatingly handsome," you corrected, echoing his earlier words. "better?"

"much." he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours. "for the record, i knew. the moment you trusted me with something as simple as catching you, i knew i was in trouble."

"good trouble or bad trouble?"

"the best kind of trouble." his voice was soft, intimate in a way that made your heart skip. "the kind that makes you realize everything before was just marking time."

you felt tears prick at your eyes again, but these were different—tears of relief, of happiness, of the overwhelming feeling of finally being understood.

"i love you," you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them.

jax went very still, his eyes searching your face. when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

"say it again."

"i love you, jax. all of you—the mischievous troublemaker and the vulnerable person underneath. i love your terrible jokes and your protective instincts and the way you pretend not to care when you care more than anyone. i love you."

the smile that spread across his face was radiant, transforming his entire expression. "i love you too. so much it terrifies me, but i love you."

when he kissed you, it was different from the stolen kisses you'd shared before. this one was a promise, a commitment, a declaration that you were done hiding from each other and from the world.

when you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, jax rested his chin on top of your head.

"so what happens now?" he asked.

"now we go to dinner, and you sit next to me instead of three seats away. now you hold my hand when we're into adventures. now we stop pretending that what we have is casual or temporary or meaningless."

"and if the others tease us?"

you pulled back to grin at him. "then we let them. let them see that the great jax actually has feelings. it might be good for your reputation."

he groaned dramatically. "there goes my image as the heartless prankster."

"i think you'll survive. besides," you added with a mischievous smile of your own, "now you'll have someone to help you plan your pranks. i've got some ideas about getting back at caine for that adventure last week..."

the delighted laugh that escaped jax was pure joy, and you realized that this—this openness, this partnership, this love—was worth every moment of doubt and fear you'd endured to get here.

"i knew there was a reason i fell for you," he said, pulling you close again. "evil mastermind hiding behind that innocent face."

"you haven't seen anything yet," you said, and kissed him again, tasting laughter and love and the promise of all the tomorrows you'd face together.

outside your room, the digital circus continued its eternal performance, but inside, in the safety of honesty and love, you and jax had found something real in a world of artifice. and for the first time since arriving in this strange place, the future felt bright with possibility.

⌗ taglist: @idexmids @siriuslyginnychase @eleteo125 @st4r-dustx @corpsebridenightamare @boreaswrites [OPEN]

✦ REQUESTS ARE OPEN! ✦

© KENZDOLLS 2025 . do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work in anyway including the use of ai onto any other social media platforms or it will permit an instant block on all platforms.

[bluebnny]

Can u make another luffy fwb smut this time with a fem/plus size/short!reader and they're childhood friends? Doggy style with loads of creampie please and thank u

Fill you up

monkey d luffy x fem!reader

contents: doggy-style sex with luffy. basically what it says in the ask

warnings: smut, MDNI, some size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, a little overstimulation

a/n: yes i can, anon ;) here you go, i hope you like it. i was meaning to post this 2 days ago but got distracted lol. also you mentioned short!reader so for me, that means with a hefty side of size kink <3 hope i went into the plus size aspect enough. Have fun reading!

(Dividers made by me)

word count: 1.164

The floor of the cabin sways violently beneath the bed. It would be enough to make you fall if you weren’t currently on all fours, Luffy’s hands on your hips keeping you firmly in place.

You’re temporarily on his ship as he had offered to help you get to the next island. Since Luffy is a good friend, you had taken him up on the offer. Either way, it’s preferrable to spending your hard-earned money to travel with total strangers.

Although you had been stupid to think that he might not have any ulterior motives in inviting you to stay, you can’t say that you aren’t happy with your current situation. That is, being pounded into oblivion by none other than the captain of the ship himself.

A storm is raging outside, but you barely register the turbulence around you in the dark, hot room. All you can feel is the drag of his cock inside you as he rams into you from behind. Luffy’s never been the delicate type, always breaking stuff, even when you were kids. And you can feel that in the way he’s roughly thrusting into your much smaller frame. Or rather, thrusting your body onto his, because he’s vigorously pulling you back by your hips every time he pushes into you, impaling you on his length. It’s so overwhelming a feeling that you’re whimpering and whining into the mattress beneath you. But you’re not complaining.

You and Luffy had grown up together in the same town, knowing each other from a very young age. You used to be the most inseparable of friends but nowadays, you rarely saw him anymore – the contact between you two becoming sporadic at best after he left your shared hometown to become a pirate. But when you do see him on rare occasions, the night usually ends like this. Something about the distance between you has ironically made you closer. And although it isn’t romantic, there’s a certain spark between you two that makes you end up in his bed time and time again.

Luffy’s hands are digging into the fat of your hips, stinging deliciously as he holds your body in place for him. You couldn’t move away from him even if you tried. So, you’re reduced to taking what he’s giving you while fisting the sheets for purchase.

“You know you look so fucking hot like this?” He’s panting out the words between thrusts.

You can barely respond from how well he’s fucking you. Your brain unable to focus on anything other than the way his tip is kneading into your g-spot with every move of his hips. But Luffy clearly doesn’t expect an answer, because he keeps talking.

“Love seeing you like his. This position- fuck- you’re so hot.”

He’s mesmerized with the way your skin ripples with every hard snap of his hips into your ass. How his fingers make indents in your thighs and hips when he squeezes the plushness there. You think part of him also loves having enough of you to hold on to while also still being able to tease you for being shorter than him. But you stopped being insecure about it a long time ago, now able to fully enjoy the fact that Luffy is almost a head taller than you. A difference in size that definitely makes itself known when he has you going stupid on his cock.

Your back is in the deepest arch to try to accommodate his girth; the top of your stomach touching the bed despite your hips being in the air. Luffy is utterly ruining you, and it feels so good that you can’t form a single coherent thought.

All you can feel is the pressure building in your abdomen. That familiar heat getting more concentrated, ready to explode.

“Ah- Luffy, fuck-” You’re whining out your words, and they barely even make sense to you, but you need to show him how much you need this. “Right there… please-”

“You close?” He lets out his little laugh. The one he only has when he’s reeling from happiness, or in this case, pleasure. “Fuck, me too. Let’s cum together, yeah? Where do you want it?”

“In- inside. Please.”

He only moans at that; and leans down so his chest pressing into the small of your back. He’s got one arm grabbing on to the headboard somewhere above where your head is buried into the mattress, the other snaking around your front to roughly grab a handful of your chest.

“Fuckin’ love these tits. So- so soft f’me...” His face is hovering above your head, and you feel so small buried under him like this. The thought makes you squeeze him even harder, and he lets out another loud moan.

“You like that, yeah?” His voice is breathy. Strained. “Then cum f’me.”

As he says those last words, he starts to rub your nipple messily between his thumb and index finger. The delicious sting shoots straight down to your lower belly and connects to the ocean of pleasure already spilling over there.

Your orgasm hits you, and your vision goes white.

Every nerve in your body is on fire, and all you can do is moan obscenely from the exhilarating high that’s overriding every other sensation. Luffy follows close behind, thrown over the edge by how brutally your smaller body is writing and convulsing beneath his.

The feeling is starting to be too much. When Luffy spills inside of you, he simply keeps going instead of slowing down. Emptying more and more of himself into your tightness, unable to stop when the feeling was so intoxicating.

“Luffy, ‘s too- ‘s too much…” you’re whining from the overstimulation now, body starting to tense despite wanting nothing more than to fall limply to the mattress. You can feel him still cumming into you, thick ropes of it filling you up more than you thought possible.

“One sec. Almost done.” He pants out, hands still tightly gripping the plumpness of your hips, sure to leave massive bruises. After a few seconds that feel like an eternity to your overstimulated senses, he stills his movements.

“You alright there?”

“Y- yeah.” You’re still trembling beneath him, feeling that familiar soothing warmth that comes after an orgasm spread itself to your tired limbs.

Luffy carefully slides out of you but stays where he is to admire his work. “Heh, look at you! Filled you up so fucking good.” A trickle of his cum mixed with your wetness runs down your thigh, but he catches it with his fingers and pushes it back into you with an obscene squelching sound.

“Luffy, stop!” You can’t help but giggle despite your embarrassment. “Help me get cleaned up?”

“’Course I will” And with that, he’s picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. “So… round 2 after I clean you up?” You’ve known him long enough to know that he’s only half joking.

You’re in for a long night.

thanks for reading! I really hope you liked it!!! <3<3 sorry the title is so bad, i always forget i have to make one for the masterlist 2 seconds before posting lol

(This is my fic, don't repost or use in any AI training programmes! Reblogs are always appreciated <3) Here are my rules, and my masterlist.

[thetrasha]

Hi Tasha! How are you? It's my first time requesting something im nervous husahauhsuahau

I'm here to ask for a request with the boys from One Piece (it can be whoever you want :) ) with an autistic reader. A slice of life fluff (?)?)?) well they're pirates, their life is quite chaotic), little moments where they deal with the struggles the reader has and overcome it in their own way (together). It can be just headcanons too, I don't mind! I'll appreciate anything you can offer, I really like your writing

Also I'm sorry about my english, I tried my best to be clear!

Hello anon ╰(*°▽°*)╯I'm fine... even if I'm being boiled alive in this wretched heat :((

Thank you so much for this request, it’s an honour to fulfil this one for you. Usually, I wouldn’t accept asks like that because I want everybody to feel like they can project themselves onto my works, but this is a bit of a self-indulgent passion project if you will. I saw this and knew I had to write it – I can relate because… guess what 🤡 Yeah…

So I’m sorry if my lived experiences don’t align with yours or anybody reading this.

Everybody’s burdens and strengths manifest in different ways… to make up for the fact that I cannot represent everybody since I’ve been shaped by my own impressions and biases, I’ve chosen a variety of symptoms and comorbidities to make up for that. And btw thanks for letting me choose the characters!!

I really hope you like this one. And your English is great, don’t worry 🫂(●'◡'●)

PS. This will be the only request of its kind I will accept. Thanks for reading! But we’re back to business as usual after this :D

PPS. This also won't be featured in my masterlist to discourage requests that resemble it.

One Piece with an Autistic Reader

feat. LUFFY, ZORO, SANJI, FRANKY, MIHAWK

LUFFY

You struggle with… extreme trust issues.

Interpersonal relationships meant something to you. You wanted and needed friends who would understand you wordlessly, who would be there when you needed them the most – people who genuinely cared. You wanted to truly bond. That depth of care isn’t easily found within the general population. Modern life most often happens in the fast lane… where relationships are disposable and the next experience is just waiting for you. You cannot relate to that side of life at all.

You feel… alone in the middle of a crowd, unseen and forgotten. You watch other people’s friend groups with envy and bitterness, wishing such a thing for yourself. You don’t chase experiences, you just want someone who wouldn’t abandon you.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t believe Luffy when he wanted to recruit you. You couldn’t see your own shine and you thought he was just messing with you… promising the world before he’d grow aware of your strangeness and get rid of you, like all the others before him. When his crewmates talked about their life experience and how little they trusted Luffy in the beginning, you started getting… antsy. Restless. You began overthinking this thing.

So many people cannot be in on the same lie, can they? Someone would eventually cave and confess – until they didn’t. It just… it doesn’t make sense.

You try to push Luffy away from you, but he clings even closer. He actively tries to tear down your walls, even if they’re reinforced with years and years of struggle. Being with him… it’s actually pretty fun. He doesn’t listen much – only to the most important bits… but he’s there. Always. Always! So far, he’s trying so much harder than anybody else before him. He’s there at every waking moment, wanting to help you out and get you to agree to join his group of adventurers.

You don’t have to pretend you’re someone else when he’s near. He accepts you just as you are. It doesn’t matter to him.

It’s the first time you weren’t the one putting in actual effort into a relationship… Luffy was doing all the heavy lifting. He showed up, followed you even when you ignored him – what a useless protective mechanism – and talked to you as if you’d been friends for years already. You didn’t have to earn his trust, it was just there for the taking.

Just before you’re ready to take the plunge and go along with his antics, he’d formally introduce you to his crew… as one of their own.

He’s always viewed you as one of them, you’d suddenly realise.

It... makes you want to cry.

ZORO

You struggle with… feeling like you didn’t accomplish anything.

Zoro is hard to make sense of for you. He’s… kind, in his own ways, but since he doesn’t talk much, you struggle to read him. He’s also just… an intimidating guy – physically and spiritually. Strangers respect him because of his nature, even if he’s just… Zoro to you. You don’t think you need to be scared of him, but you have started walking around on eggshells when he’s nearby. He’s always napping somewhere when he’s not with you… and you don’t want him to perceive you when you try to master your own ambitions. Watching him makes you feel worse about yourself. Zoro is a successful man by any metric… he’s always had a natural talent for swordsmanship and refined it through hard work and steeling his mind, he’s so confident and always shoots for the stars, knowing that he’ll get there eventually. He doesn’t doubt himself, it’s in his instincts to be the best there is.

You cannot claim the same for yourself. You excel in certain niches, but you’re… not as crucial of a member as Zoro is. He’s kind of the backbone of this crew.

You feel small in comparison to him, insignificant even.

Of course he notices. It’s Zoro! He’s not as dense as he seems. He’s frighteningly perceptive and observes everyone silently.

So what does he do? Nothing at first.

He believes in your independence and knows you’re smarter than him, this is just some inexplicable poison corrupting your mind.

When you can’t free yourself from your own insecurity, he starts seeking you out, even if it makes you uncomfortable. Zoro cares about you – maybe more than you realise. He’s glad to have you on this crew, you accept him as he is and you have an unspoken 'friendship' blossoming between you two. Why he’s so affected by you being so distant – he doesn’t know, but he can guess pretty easily… So he started breaching your personal space. There he was, standing beside you once more, looking at you with his unreadable expressions… but then he speaks. Zoro started talking about… his feelings.

What has happened? “I wish we’d spend more time together… like we used to.”, he’d grumble with pink cheeks.

And you could just stand there in shock. Zoro… wanted, no, needed you around? He… liked spending time with you? You’d ask him whether you weren’t too weak for him, ready to feed your soul with more negativity.

Yet all he does is honestly tell you that he believes you’re meant for greatness, that he thinks you’re better than him – he’s always thought highly of you and acknowledged your skills. He’s always been watching you, so of course he’s able to recall moments when you had to save the day.

Zoro doesn’t think you’re less than at all, he reminds you that you’ve always gone above and beyond.

Society's conditioned you into feeling like a failure for not fitting into a mould like he does, but he has a different way of measuring success. You don't have to fulfil expectations, you just have to try your best and hold your head high while doing so.

He's proud of you - and he views you as his equal.

SANJI

You struggle with… being a picky eater.

Certain tastes and texture just make you resent the food you’re eating. It suddenly turns pleasure into anguish.

At the same time, you feel like you cannot reveal these things about you, because Sanji already uses the best ingredients for your meals, just to make sure it’s especially nutritious. And because he likes you the most, secretly.

You appreciate his thoughtful gestures every time, but the fact that certain foods touch each other on your plate makes you inexplicably mad. You try your hardest to hide it from him – Sanji knows what starvation is like, for God’s sake. You’re disrespecting him by being the way you are!

But he’s already picked up on your unusual habits; he subtly watches everyone when they eat and derives a lot of happiness from seeing their faces light up – it validates his pride in cooking – but your eyes are dull, almost pained sometimes. You… cannot enjoy anything.

Sanji also doesn’t want to embarrass you for your preferences, which is why he doesn’t initially ask you about it bluntly. He’s caught glimpses of the way you’ve been socialised and doesn’t want to reignite bad memories for you, so he… just tests different things to try and accommodate you.

And he starts applying these things to everyone just to make you feel included. He’d never single you out.

You seemed a lot happier a few days ago, when he started separating the veggies from the rice and handed everything out on different plates. Nobody even bat an eye at the new way of assorting his dishes, not even you. It makes your dearest chef smile. That’s how he slowly started probing for your likes and dislikes. You suddenly even felt way more comfortable expressing yourself. Maybe you hated bitter tastes, maybe you just really disliked sour foods, maybe you were sensitive to salt – he doesn’t know, but he subtly tries to figure you out by baking zesty, sour rhubarb into a sweet cake instead of a savoury meal… and he noticed that you liked it all of the sudden. You even smiled at him while you stuffed your cheeks.

Sanji absolutely had to pause to deal with his oncoming cardiac arrest. He’s never felt pride like this… people usually liked his cooking, but knowing that someone who’s probably never got to enjoy certain foods love his meals just hit different. It squeezed his heart painfully tight.

You’d never have to feel bad about yourself around him. He would try to make things right either way, but soon you’d gain the courage to tell him about your habits yourself, making him melt on the spot.

He’s the first person who took your strange tastes seriously.

FRANKY

You struggle with… noises.

It would sound crazy if you asked Franky whether he could hear the out-of-sync gears turning within him, you thought quietly. You could even hear fluorescent light because its crackles and sharp hisses annoyed you – so every time you heard a minor squeak coming from inside his chest, you cringed at your rudeness.

You liked Franky, he was an amazing guy, funny without even trying, charismatic, empathetic and he always offered words of encouragement. You actually thought you clicked best with Franky. He was… unconventional like you and made sure you knew that you were fine just the way you were. You were pretty much inseparable. He made you feel confident since he didn’t care about social rules despite very much understanding them and made you feel secure in expressing yourself however you liked. Franky always hyped you up from the sidelines and, if the mood allowed it, provided the intellectually challenging conversations you needed to thrive.

He was naturally complex like that – you adored him.

It’s just that every time he’d invite you to sit by his tinkering station, you were leaving with a massive headache. You felt burnt out just listening to his metal spinal plates scratch against one another… there were so many sounds getting processed in your brain that you had a hard time following the conversation. You often had to ask him to repeat himself, which he always did with a laugh and a cheeky remark.

But after a while, he notices a pattern. He doesn’t know what’s been causing you discomfort, but Franky’s an inventor. Of course he would try to make you something that would help you. At first, he believed that you had trouble with background noise and just had an insane auditory processing ability, which is why he installed panelling inside the walls of the common rooms to block sound waves echoing throughout the ship – and while it helped, you still showed some signs that you weren’t doing well around him.

Naturally, Franky would search for a different solution. Whether it’s as easy as handing you headphones or as difficult as restructuring the springs that replaced his joints, he’s trying it all.

And one day, you sit next to him, watching him put screws into one of his newest projects completely unrelated to you and you commented with wide eyes,

“You’re… silent. It’s quiet. Are you feeling okay?”

All he could do is laugh with pride, his chest pushed out before he struck his signature pose.

Truth be told, all he did was oil the old pistons that pumped cola and oil through his engineered heart – he started getting a clue after you once confessed in passing that you’d suspected a leak near the keel of the ship… and Franky notices these little things and puts them together all by himself.

You could hear everything – all the time.

Even a rhythmic stream of water passing through a crack in a plank at the bottom of the Sunny –

–and that’s when he realised that you could hear when something was awry with him, that it made you anxious. Well, you will never have to worry about that again! But… he’s grateful… so grateful for your care. Franky couldn’t ever go to Chopper for help because the doctor wasn’t equipped to deal with a pile of junk, but… you were, clearly.

MIHAWK

You struggle with… having nobody to talk to.

It was silly, really, to go to your greatest rival for small talk, especially when he was such a lone wolf who desired to be left alone, but despite your own drive towards independence, you wanted someone who would be willing to listen to you.

You’ve never been taken seriously – many people deem your ramblings childish, uninteresting or inappropriate, but Mihawk was a thoroughly serious man whose entire purpose was dipped in devotion. And he knew your worth as a fighter. You’d mastered your rapier, even if you would never be as good as he was. That’s how you met, but you’d never try to actually take his title by aspiring to get even better at it. It wasn’t… something you were interested in; this was just a means to an end, you fought to survive as a fellow pirate. Nothing more, nothing less.

You overperformed in your own interests, so much so that people who were casually interested would leave a conversation with you within minutes. Nobody in the world could relate. Not even Mihawk, you guessed bitterly, but you… trusted him – to listen and, most importantly, to stay.

He was just as much of an autodidact as you were, even if he chose to study the blade and you chose to acquire knowledge about something that truly fulfilled you.

So you wander the halls of his sparsely furnished castle in hopes of finding him.

And find him you did. He was just nonchalantly having dinner all by himself at his desk… it’s truly bizarre that this was one of his most normal moments.

You invited yourself in with a smile, hearing the pleasant ring of his quiet hum upon noticing your presence.

And then you started talking if not info-dumping on Lord Dracule Mihawk. And he just sat there, taking it all in while eating a plate of unseasoned plain pasta…

“So… then me more about this intriguing ‘comic’…”, he murmured, taking a relaxed sip of wine.

He noticed that your eyes shone and that you seemed confused for just a moment before blabbing on with visible excitement, talking a lot faster.

Even though he had trouble following, he sat forward, elbows firmly placed on his spread knees and hands on his chin as if in deep, profound thought all the while nodding at all those random trivia facts you shared about your passion.

At the same time, he shared some random side facts on ranked blades he’s picked up over the years and even let you touch Yoru, explaining in great detail how important the cut of the blade truly was and how maintaining it is his secret to slicing through ships with his brute strength and Haki.

And that’s when you noticed – Mihawk had nobody to talk to about “these things” either. Or maybe he had nobody to talk to in general. Who knows?

But you did have each other.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Hiccup was surprised to find the girl sitting in his lap, but she didn't seem to question it, wrapping her arms around his neck. He made sure to put his own arm around her waist to hold her steady as Astrid pushed them both towards the docks.

As they picked up speed, the girl giggled and squealed in delight, and it was all Hiccup could do to keep her in place.

It looked like they wouldn't be able to slow down, and Brynhilde buried her face in the crook of his neck. Placing a hand on the back of her head, he braced himself for a possible impact, but it never came.

Thanks to the fisherman, they were able to stop safely. "You okay there?"

The girl nodded. "Uh-huh. Thanks!"

Looking where she pointed, he wasn't sure if the necklace would still be there. Currents, and sea life could have carried it elsewhere, but he'd certainly try.

Thanking Astrid, he gave Brynhilde a smile before diving into the water, the saltwater enveloping him. It took only a moment to gather his bearings.

The water of the ocean was different than in the cove. Even here, it was teeming with activity. Fish flitted around him, and as he swam deeper, he could see that Brynhilde's necklace wasn't the only thing lost at the docks.

Hm. He probably should have gotten a description of what it looked like... Eh, it'll be fine. It was a necklace, how hard could it be to find?

Fifteen minutes later, he surfaced, holding up three necklaces he'd found. "One of these yours?" Reaching up, he laid them on the dock, and she ran forward.

"You found it!" She scooped one up, asking Astrid to help her put it back on. "Thank you mister Hiccup!"

"Hey, no problem. Glad to help!"

Then he learned of the other lost items. Nodding, he said, "Sure. I'll need a satchel though, there's lots of stuff down there."

🐟

Retrieving lost items from the sea floor had become a regular thing for Hiccup after that. He didn't mind at all, since it helped him learn more about humans and what they did.

It was limited at first, his tail cramping up or aching from the combination of his missing fin and the new prosthetic. But the exercise felt great, and as time went on, he was able to spend longer in the water.

Before he knew it, weeks had passed, and another full moon was upon them.

What he didn't know, was that his father had called for a search for his missing son. That search would be not only below the surface, but on land, too.

As the moon rose and Hiccup's tail became legs again, the same thing happened for two other merfolk: Ruffnut and Tuffnut.

---

"Think we'll actually find Hiccup here?" Ruffnut questioned, wearing a discarded sail as a dress. "I know he likes the surface, but I don't know if he'd survive being up here this long."

Tuffnut cracked his knuckles, "Only one way to find out, sis! Let's be as human as possible, to not arouse suspicion!" He had opted for a strange pair of shorts, woven from kelp.

They both went to step forward, only to fall face first in the sand. "Yeah, great thinking, bro. Be human! It'll be fun! We can't walk, genius! How are we supposed to find Hiccup?"

----

Hiccup sat down as he learned how to secure the prosthetic Gobber had made. His trousers had been hemmed, and the left leg matched the length of what was left of his own limb.

"Like this? And then I just...stand on it?"

Carefully, he placed his weight on his feet, standing up. It felt strange, to be freestanding without the crutch. He wavered, moving to lean on Astrid for support. "Whoa! Heh, looks like it might take a bit of time, yeah?"

He could move with the crutch, but he wasn't sure how to walk using two feet, instead of alternating one with the crutch. "What, what do I do? To, to move and walk with you?"

After a long training session, all Astrid wanted to do was cool off on the beach. Maybe a tiny swim, even though the ocean was so cold at this time of year. She pushed through the brush and staggered down to the shore.

Only to find a boy lounging in the shallows.

“Oh!” She dropped her axe in the sand. From his bare torso, she assumed he was naked. “Sorry! I didn’t know someone else would be…here…” as the apologies flowed, she realized from the waist down, he had green scales and a pair of fins.

No wonder she hadn’t recognized him.

“No way…” she inched closer. “A real mermaid! In the flesh! Are the stories true?” She stamped down her overwhelming curiosity for a moment to give him a stern point. “Don’t try anything fishy, mermaid. I’m very capable of protecting myself, got it?”

((I saw the prompt and went feral, hope you don’t mind))

[X]

Hiccup started, the water around him splashing as he sat up straight in surprise, before he moved a little further back, his cheeks flushed.

"No, sorry, I, I shouldn't--" Ducking his head, the merman awkwardly held up a hand, "Usually no one comes here..."

But his movements only caused his tail to briefly break the surface, emerald scales glittering in the sun for a moment before dipping below the water again.

Firmly, he responded, "Merman. I am a merman. And no, don't worry, I, I wasn't going to try anything...I know you'd probably kill me if I did..."

Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his hair, which had partially dried in his time sitting in the shallow water. "What, what stories are you referring to?"

He knew, or at least had a gut feeling about what she was asking, but he wanted to hear it from her. She appeared wary, but not fearful. Maybe these humans didn't have the same fears of his kind like the others?

[ellclarkey]

Dilemma of your own. (Requested)

George Clarke fluff.

warnings: none!

You were a guest on The Useless Hotline.

Fun enough, right?

Well it would be, if you didn’t have a huge secret to hide.

You and George had been dating for almost a year now. Ten months and nineteen days, to be exact not that you were counting. It wasn’t a situationship, it wasn’t a fling. It was real. And very much not public.

It wasn’t that you were ashamed. God, no. If anything, you were tempted daily to post his sleepy face on your Instagram story or show the world how much of a sweetheart he was.

But it just… wasn’t anyone’s business. Friends knew. Family knew. But the internet? That was a line you’d both agreed not to cross.

And now here you were, sitting in the Hotline studio, mic hot, nerves hotter, pretending like George wasn’t sitting across from you with that look he always gave you when he was trying not to smile too wide.

“So today we have a special guest YN!” Max declared

You smiled a real smile

You’d told Max explicitly not to mention relationships too much.

You didn’t trust yourself to lie convincingly, and George well, George had all the subtlety of teenager with a crush. You’d seen the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching.

The internet would know in seconds.

So Max knew not to push it.

Knew to keep the relationship asking vague, the questions general, the suspicions quiet.

“So today we have a special guest Y/N!” Max declared.

You offered a genuine smile. “Hi, thanks for having me.”

Across the table, George did what he did best kept quiet. Let Max do the talking. Let you shine. His knee was bouncing under the table, though, you could feel it through the floor.

“Alright, we’ve had this one sent in a lot. Y/N, what are you looking for in a man? The listeners need to know.” Max asked with a grin

You smirked.

“Hmm… someone who’s funny. Beautiful eyes. Really good style. And…”

You turned, locking eyes with George just a second too long, “someone who can please me.”

George froze. Jaw clenched. Eyes wide.

Max chuckled.

“Right. Okay. Well. That’s… fantastic. Very specific. Your girl knows what she wants!.” Max says smile still full

You sipped your water innocently. George still hadn’t spoken. His ears had gone pink.

Then, another question hit.

“Here’s a fun one what’s it like being shipped with George?”

A beat.

You could see George visibly brace for impact.

You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“Oh, it’s terrible. Like having to bring your little sibling everywhere. Every time I’m in an edit he is too. To some taylor swift love ship edit”

George barked a laugh.

“He gets enough attention, trust me. I think the fans should move on to someone else.” You add

“Say it louder queen.” Max added

George finally breaks his silence

“Glad to know how you really feel.”

“Just saying what everyone’s thinking.” You smirk

There was a glint in your eye, and George caught it. That flicker of amusement mixed with something else something dangerous. He shot you a sideways look, biting back a smile.

The next few questions were well, fine.

Safe. Predictable.

“What’s your dream travel destination?”

“What’s your writing process like?”

“If you could only eat one meal forever, what would it be?”

You answered each with a smile, keeping your voice light and your words clean. George had mostly stayed quiet, chiming in with the occasional comment or joke, keeping it casual. But every so often, his foot would bump yours under the table. A silent nudge. You’d ignore it. Mostly.

Then, about 30 minutes in, Max glanced off-camera toward the corner of the room.

“Callum, do you have any dilemmas for us?” mas asks.

The director slouched back in his chair, working at the cameras perked up instantly, clearly prepared.

“Yeah, got one.Print it off.” He says pointing to the printer.

“George send this to the printer.”Max says

George types random things on his keyboard “Sent.”

“Here y/n read it” George says passing it to You

“All right. You say clearing your throat. Ive been making moves on my boss and he’s been reciprocating it constantly but we can’t be together due to HQ. What should i do? P.S George you’re fit and max is a skinny legend.”

The room fell dead silent. For a second too long.

You could feel your heart thudding in your ears, trying not to look at George, who was in the same position.

“Well hey, if he’s your boss… who’s gonna fire you if they find out?” You let out breathy laugh.

“Not sure that’s how that works.” Georgge adds.

Max jumps in “I mean hey, if it feels right, do it. Who cares if people find out and you loose your job?”

“Out of touch.” George smirks at max

Max threw a pen at him.

After the episode, once the mics are off and the cameras stop rolling

You pulled George aside the second this was finished.

“I think that dilemma is gonna make it obvious, you twat. Why would you let cal choose that one?”

“Blame Max, not me.” George said seemingly not caring.

“You handed it to me. You literally chose me to read it.”

“You were closest to the printer.”

“You’re closest to death.” You said unable to contain your smile

He laughed, hands raised in defense, but he stepped in a bit closer the grin softening just slightly.

“Seriously though… no one’s gunna know unless we tell them.”

“You don’t think that entire thing screamed secret relationship?” Tou tsk

“I think if we wanted to keep it hidden, maybe don’t describe me as your type then look at me when you say “please me” hmm?” He says annoyingly smug

You rolled your eyes.

“You liked that.” You bit your lip at him

George responds back quieter this time “Yeah. I did.”

You bit back a smile. He looked at you, just a beat longer than necessary.

“If the internet finds out you’re gonna be the one defending it this time.” You smirk

“You’re acting like it’s cancelable that we’re dating.” He says

“Oh hush it.” You say walking back to max.

[starrygirlz]

bite the hand- michael robinavitch x reader

pairing: robby x reader

summary: it's been 12 years of you and Michael, but they weren't easy years

warnings: swearing, kissing, sexual themes but no smut, HEAVY INFIDELITY, cheating, covid scenes, drinking, reader uses feminine pronouns (I think), not beta read

a/n: hey queens! first fic, who dis! this was silly and fun to write. deep themes of bite the hand by boygenius. please interact it boosts my ego! love y'all.

wc: 2.3k

2012-

“Is this seat taken?” you say, pointing to the only open chair the eye can see. This hotel banquet hall is filled to the brim with emergency physicians who are only surviving off of the stale coffee on the side of the room. No one actually cares about the ‘advancements in facial sutures’ presentation the show boat plastic surgeon is giving, they all just have to be there to represent whatever department they work for. 

Three days into this three day conference, you are regretting being the cheerful intern who offered to go to this stupid thing. There is no way in hell it will actually get you any brownie points with your attending, but hey, worth a shot. 

The man looks up at you with annoyingly nice brown eyes. “Oh, um no. All yours” he stutters out. Great, sitting next to one of those doctors who spent too much time reading and not enough time interacting with people. 

About halfway through the godforsaken talk, your seat partner pulls out a water bottle from under his chair. You spot the familiar black and yellow logo as one of the various stickers on it. 

“You like the Penguins?” you whisper in his direction, trying not to disturb the crowd around you. 

“Yeah. I work in Pittsburgh. I treated one of the Pens support staff once, they gave me the sticker as a thank you” he whispers back. Okay, so he can be normal. 

You look at him smiling, “Oh! I work in Pittsburgh too. I’m an intern at Presby”. He looks shocked at your confession, like you told him too much, or something he didn’t want to hear. But after a beat, smiles and looks back at you” 

“I’m an attending at Pittsburgh Trauma,” he tells you, looking for your reaction. You smile and nod and turn your head back towards the speaker droning on. 

After the session is finished, you slip out of the room before he gets the chance to say anything more. Hours later, you find yourself at the hotel bar, alone at a high top table looking down at your drink.

“Is this seat taken?” your head pops up at the question. The man, whose name you never got, is standing across from you. You smile to yourself for a breath. 

“All yours, on one condition though” you request. He looks at you quizzically, but nods for you to continue. “I learn your name”. 

“That's easy enough. Michael Robinavitch, but most people call me Robby. Can I learn yours or is this a one way street?” You both giggle before you tell him your name. You both enjoy a few drinks, chatting about work, school, and Pittsburgh. Before you know it, you’re being pushed up against the door of his hotel room. 

“Fuck, Michael” you moan out while he kisses your neck. You make quick work of undoing his button down while he picks you up and throws you onto the bed. As he sinks to his knees in front of you, you blurt out “Wait! I’m engaged”. 

He picks himself off the floor while you sit up. “Oh wow, okay, I’m so sorry” he says, trying to look anywhere but you. 

“No no, don’t apologize, I should have told you before we got this far. I’m sorry, really”

“Um, what should we, do you want to go? I mean like-” you cut him off by rising to your feet and grabbing his collar, turning his head just slightly to look at you. 

“I think you should kiss me again, Michael” Somehow, all the morals in his body left him when you said his name like that. So he kisses you again and brings you back to his bed. 

2016- 

You haven’t spoken to Michael for four years. You have seen him in passing at different work events where ED physicians of Pittsburgh come together, but you haven’t spoken. What you have done though is add a second ring on your left hand. No kids, still in the same rental house, but marriage? You had done that. 

You and your husband, Cooper, were out with some other couples from your neighborhood. It was some new bar arcade that were all the rage. You are dragging your feet across the sticky floor, coming off a 12 hour shift. Being one of only a few senior residents in your class, it felt like the shifts never stopped. But Cooper was insistent that tonight was the day where all the couples go out. You sat nursing a beer that had gone warm, watching as Cooper and some of the other guys play Mini Hoop. The wives are chatting around you about nothing in particular, or at least you weren’t listening close enough to follow. 

Your feet start moving back towards the bar before your brain can catch up to them. Ordering another drink, you look around. Your eyes land on someone familiar and before you can stop yourself you say, “Michael?”

His head whips around at you, seemingly abandoning his conversation. He calls your name and pulls you into an awkward side hug. “How have you been? It’s been a long time” . You think to yourself about why he is so cheery for the man who you knowingly had an affair with years ago, then you spot the four empty beers on the bar top next to him. Everything clicks. 

Before you can answer him, the bartender comes over with your beer. They ask if you want anything else. You throw caution to the wind and say, “Two tequila shots please”. If Michael is drunk, you might as well be too. After throwing those back, along with your beer, Michael introduces you to his friend Jack. You all chit chat while Cooper is still off playing pool with his friends. 

After some time, Michael leans into you and whispers “You still engaged?”

“Married” you respond. 

“You still want to get out of here? I live a block away?” 

“Let me go make some excuses. Meet me outside” You saunter off to go find your husband, thinking of ways that you could cover for leaving, but not going home. 

“Hey baby!” He shouts, way louder than he needs to. Perfect, he’s drunk. 

“Hey. I have to go into work, someone got sick and they really need someone to cover for a few hours. I’ll meet you at home later?” You lie through your teeth. Someone else makes a shot with their cue as he nods and yells an ‘I love you’ in your direction. You say one back and make your exit. 

Michael is perched outside, impatiently awaiting your arrival. He is fiddling with something in his coat pocket and bouncing his leg. Once you two are out of eyeshot of the bar, he leans in to kiss you. You both melt into it, like it has been a missing piece to your lives. 

He pulls back, looking at you and says “I’ve been waiting for four years to do that”

“What else have you been waiting to do?” Your eyes shimmer up at him. He pulls a lopsided grin, takes your hand, and drags you in the direction of his place. Not for a moment do you think about your husband. It doesn’t feel wrong with Michael. It feels better actually, better than it ever does with Cooper. 

2020- 

The pandemic fucking sucks. There are no other feelings that you have attached to it. It just fucking sucks. Especially when your administration moves you into a different hospital. 

There just aren’t enough doctors. The Presby ED is turning into a makeshift urgent care for non-COVID related patients, but it seems like all patients everywhere are COVID related. So the ward at PTMC needs more help, you need to go. 

Before isolation started, you and Michael Robinavitch had a standing meeting at his place every other Tuesday. Cooper thought you were working, Michael didn’t have anyone to lie to. At least no one of importance or no one who cared. It wasn’t always sex. Sometimes you sat in his living room and argued about the Beatles. But nine times out of ten he was fucking you until you couldn’t walk staright. This arrangement had been going on for almost four years, but somehow, Cooper still had no idea. 

The pandemic had busted that meeting up though. You two basically lived at the hospital, too tired to even think about kissing each other. Working together also puts a damper on both of your sex drives. You don’t want to give anyone any ideas about what has gone on between the two of you. Jack knew that you were old friends, but no one else had any clue into what has really been happening over the past eightish years. 

Michael is on edge, you are all on edge. But not the good kind that makes you better doctors. Not the kind of on edge that happens after you run a successful code. This is the kind of on edge that you feel when things are about to go wrong. 

He is treating Doc Adamson, his mentor. Every other doctor in the place offered to switch with him, but he insisted that it had to be him. It has to be him that makes sure he gets better. You are treating a little girl right next to him. Everything logical in your body knows neither of them are going to survive this. 

“I’m giving the ECMO machine to your kid” He says when he walks into the room. Your head snaps up so fast, it’s dizzying. 

“What? No. We don’t even know if it will make her better. You can’t just–”

“It’s been 17 days. He’s not getting better”

“It’ll kill him Michael” 

“So will knowing that we could have tried harder to save her!” He walks out of the room, giving an order to the nurse to call cardiology and switch the machine. You don’t feel yourself following him. Mentally you’re still rechecking her vitals, listening to the whirr of the ventilators around you. But your feet aren’t there. 

They find Michael outside. 

“I don’t have a mask on, stay six feet” he says without looking up. He knows exactly who it is without it. 

“You didn’t have to do that” you say, sliding down the wall a few feet away from him. 

“You know I did” 

“Yeah, I do” 

“I miss you” he admits quietly, more like he is saying it to himself. 

“I know that too”

“You can’t even fucking say that you miss me too?” 

“Michael of course I miss you, you know–”

“You know I don’t know what else you want from me. I have given you fucking everything you could ask for and yet you still don’t even care” he stands up, throwing his hands in the air. 

“I do care, I have just other things to care about too”

“Oh what? Your fucking husband? The one you have been cheating on consistently for four years? Fuck, even before then too. He is really what is stopping you?” 

“You don’t want this. Not seriously. I promise that you have the best deal right now, all the best parts just for you” 

“Maybe I want the bad parts too? Have you ever considered that? That maybe I want more than you just biting the hand that feeds you. Oh because your marriage is fucking perfect? That’s why you want to stay with him? Seriously y/n what else do you want from me?” He spits out, yelling now. 

“I want the marriage Michael! I want to be a grown up!” 

“You want the marriage? Okay fine, get divorced today and I will marry you tomorrow. I’m serious. But you are too fucking scared of it. You are terrified that you will be happy with me” 

“Yeah, I am. Is that what you want me to say? I’m horrified that I will be happier with you than I ever was with him. I’m sorry” your voice is quieter now. He sees the tears falling from your waterline and his eyes soften in return. 

“No, no I’m sorry. I never should have said any of that” 

“It’s okay, you meant it. You really would marry me?” 

“The last four years gave you no inclination that maybe I fucking love you more than anything else in my life?” 

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you only liked me because you couldn’t have me. If it’s worth anything, I love you too” you pull out your phone and immediately open the phone app. Michael spots your favorite list from over your shoulder. It's his name, and then Coopers. You click on Coopers contact. 

He picks up on the second ring, you guys don’t call often. You tell him that you are moving out. 

Michael is shocked that Cooper doesn’t seem surprised. You look at him and say “we are already in the process of divorce”

His eyes blow wide in a look of both betrayal and excitement. “It hasn’t been working for a long time. We got married way too young. He knew that too” you tell him. 

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, throwing all caution of being at work to the wind. 

“Sure, but we have to go back inside”

2024-

Dana thinks Michael is especially prickly today. It’s the anniversary of Adamson’s death. It’s a weird day for everyone. 

People knew that the two of you are married, but not a soul knows how long ago it started. That’s not their business. 

“Where’s Dr. Girl Robinavitch?” Dana asks, looking for you to take a patient that just got roomed. 

“Don’t call her that,” he said. 

“Jeez, okay Sad Boy” she said, looking elsewhere. 

Once she finds you she says, “Robby is fun today”. 

Taking the tablet, you say, “well you know what today is” 

Simultaneously, you say “the day doc died” and “the day he confessed his love for you”. 

You turned to Dana, shocked. She just shrugs and says, “You would think he would be at least a little bit less bitter. But I don’t know, a weird day for both to happen”. 

“He told you that?”

“No, of course not. I just know everything”. 

[ms-demeanor]

Part of them is also story-based; I'm much more inclined toward spooky creepy stories than toward love stories - little shop is a campy little horror story as well as a musical.

But yeah one by one:

Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat makes me feel like an alien. I do not understand the appeal, I am uninterested in the story, I find the music incredibly bland and contrived. I've seen people repeatedly describe the songs as catchy and I'm like "where?" They feel like they have no hooks and the characters aren't interesting in and of themselves enough to hook me. People talk about how fun the songs are and it feels like I'm listening to people talk about the deep, layered flavors of styrofoam. I bet it's entertaining to watch in person and fun for the costuming, but that 100% does not translate to any recordings I've seen of it. Also I cannot explain how much Broadway Voice can make it hard to watch something - every cast recording I've heard seems to have terminal Glee sound.

Fiddler is good. If someone gave me a ticket to a show I would go see it, if the movie came on TV I would sit down and watch it, but I'm never going to seek it out. I occasionally catch myself singing "if I were a rich man." This is almost top tier for me.

Man of La Mancha - I'm totally unfamiliar with the musical, I have no opinion but am unlikely to watch it.

Of Sondheim's works, I am only familiar with West Side Story. "America" is catchy as hell. "When you're a jet" features a lot of the kind of cliche phrasing that annoys me - singers in musicals should be allowed to say "fuck." Being based on Shakespeare gives it a solid base plotwise. I would just so much rather go see Romeo and Juliet than see a musical reimagining of Romeo and Juliet. I don't hate it and I recognize why people like it, but just hearing about the Spielberg remake of the film made me exhausted. I have seen it enough. No thank you.

'Tis a silly place. (I'm unfamiliar with this musical, just uninterested.)

I Powerfully Loathe South Pacific. And The King and I. And The Sound of Music. I do not know what it is about the composition of Rogers and Hammerstein songs that gets under my skin but they bother me because they are catchy and I *don't like them* so since I saw this reblog last night I've had just the single line "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair" stuck in my head making me angry (because I can't remember any of the other lines so it's just that one). I know that we are talking about art and that all art is artifice in that it is artificial, it is created and intentional but there's a palpable feeling of prodding from these musicals that sets my teeth on edge. The musicals want you to feel a very specific way and so they try to push you in that direction but all I feel is rage. They feel *manipulative* in a way that is not as cheap and easy as the way that Rice/Webber musicals feel like they're goading you into emotions, but nonetheless feels overwhelmingly fake and unpleasant to me. This is ALSO how I react to a pretty significant amount of country music and also a lot of hair metal, for what it's worth.

My Fair Lady - Good! I don't like it as much as Fiddler, 50/50 on whether I would take a free ticket to see a production, but I have enjoyed watching it in the past and would not go out of my way to avoid seeing it in the future.

RHPS - I do not dislike this as a musical, but I dislike Richard O'Brien's transmisogynist statements and recognize the fraught nature of discussing transphobia around this work (there is a good argument to be made that transphobia is central to the premise, and I know elderly trans folks who built their communities around midnight showings; RHPS is not just a musical at this point and because of that I can't relate to it just as a musical.)

Well now I'm curious what it is about Little Shop that sets it apart for you. It certainly feels validating as a Little Shop fan but I'd like to know your feelings about it specifically

Menken & Ashman

Main vocal roles aren't standard "broadway" sound, there's more room for expression than just belting and vibrato

Lots of good line-by-line jokes in the songs that are funny on purpose, which I think is less common than people think

Decent balance of talking and singing

Big puppet. I love a good puppet, this has a good puppet.

I think it strikes a balance between being funny, absurd, sincere, sweet, cynical, and silly. It's such an absurd concept that's played straight enough that it has an almost magical realism feel, it's cartoonish and goofy but also has some genuine moments of pathos and anger. It just does a good job with all of that while not taking itself too seriously.

Anyway check out Jinkx Monsoon doing "Somewhere that's Green."

That's just some good shit.

[ronearoundblindly]

Like Riding A Bike

Steve Rogers x reader annual silliness!

Summary: Steve digs deep to remember a bygone era.

Warnings for being, yet again, uselessly fluffy. Featuring Stevie as the sweetest, cutest bean with the kiddos and my usual P U N S! WC 740 gif by @youareheaven

Steve grins at the kids frantically bouncing around when they see him. The young boys and girls call out questions in competition with each other, antsy for him to come into their classroom, uncaring that he can’t answer over the screaming.

He, of course, happily shuffles in, taking two strides where each child takes five. Steve's heart swells at the sight of papier-mâché helmets, origami side caps, and striped skirts made of felt strips and cut up white sheets. 

They made costumes.

“Okay, kids,” their teacher manages to shout in the din. “Places!”

In alternating red and blue t-shirts, the boys and girls line up, desks pushed into the corners of the room and stacked higher than they are tall.

You herd your students like cats into a very loose V shape.

“Who…” you start to lead, wearing your much nicer and more accurate outfit.

The kids all whip up their arms up in salute, a few using the wrong hand before they’re corrected by a neighbor.

“WHO’S STRONG AND BRAVE,” everyone slowly yells almost in unison, “HERE TO SAVE THE AMERICAN WAY?”

Most of the children stick their left leg out to the side and tuck it back in, taking a step forward. You  wink at him; you’re doing the moves with them and helping with the words.

—campaign door-to-door—

Steve sees you waving him to jump in, but he hasn’t thought of this dance for what feels like fifteen years. He watches you do a kick-ball-change, the kids doing a simple little kick because clearly there’s only so much you can teach the youngsters.

Whatever possesses him in that moment, he’s grateful.

Steve moves into the middle of the V and marches, his steps tentative as he follows your cues

—Hoboken to Spokane—

There’s multiple pronunciations throttled in volume for fun.

By this point, the performers amongst the students are very obvious, one boy just mumbling with a sagging salute that ends up in a head scratch. It’s one of the most adorable presentations he’s ever seen.

Who’ll rise or fall, give his all for America?

He’s getting into it now, walking the span of the line and offering high-fives to the kids, folding himself in the row beside you for can can.

Who’s here to prove that we can?

There are no measurable beats. He began rushing to think ahead but ends a bit too fast. It’s the most fun he’s had in a while though the two verses you and your kids have practiced is enough. Steve beams at the final, joyous scream of“THE STAR-SPANGLED MAN WITH A PLAN!”

The kid celebrate themselves—as they should—and struggle to listen to your corralling for one last surprise.

Instead of a whole other tune, there’s just a very slow, deafening cry of ‘happy birthday, Captain Rogers.’

“Thank you,” he returns. “Thank you so much!”

“How old are you?” one kid shrieks.

“One-hundred and seven,” another answers before Steve’s mouth even opens.

There’s gasps and a couple of ewwww-s.

“Actually, it’s more like forty,” he admits.

“Forty? That’s older than my dad.”

“Mine, too.”

“That’s crazy. What’s it like?!”

Steve wants to say it’s a bit like being 107 properly when they react like that, but kids will be kids.

“Alright, guys and girls, Captain America has to go see some other rooms before his talk this afternoon.” You clap to regain attention. “Let’s put our room back in order, okay?”

They excitedly scatter as you show him out to the hallway, Steve’s helping handlers for the day standing toward the other end to mark his next stop.

“Forty, huh? That’s a milestone,” you add with a sweet smile. “Must have big plans!”

Steve scratches at his neck nervously. “If I have my way, it will be something quiet…” He takes a long look at your fairly accurate costume, makeup, and, specifically, red lipstick. “Maybe now I’ll add a bit of dancing to the menu, ya know, since I’m feeling spry…for a relic.”

Your laugh echos in the mostly empty hall. “You picked it back up very quickly. Good muscle memory.”

“It’s like riding a bike,” he chirps, sharply inhaling to puff out his chest, gathering confidence. “And you’re a great teacher. I always had a pretty good memory even though I’m apparently so old.” Steve enjoys the sound of your laugh again. “For example, if you tell me your number, I’ll learn it. Easy.”

Happy Bday, Stevie!

💃🏽🇺🇸💃🏽