#ok for some reason everything has been funny to me tonight so i came across this tiktok and i absolutely lost my mond over it

[rosieshipper]

*everyone is completely drunk*

Alex: Say something that Slim Shady would say

John: *imitating slim shady* That’s an awfully hot coffee pot

Rose: *spits out her drink as she wheezes*

Herc: *losing his shit* Oh my fucking god! How did you sound just like him???

Laf: *on the floor absolutely in hysterics*

Tags: @aricka-and-her-fictional-others @kittyselfships @nougatships @astralshipper

[emilymaxximoff]

Souls Don't Meet on Accident; Rafe Cameron X Fem!Reader; Part 3

CW: Language, Light Drinking, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, MDNI 18+

Description: Life sucks lately and your boyfriend Rafe Cameron has done some pretty messed up things. Despite this you still love him and will do anything to help him. As his life continues to crumble you prove that despite all the shit you have to go through, sometimes people are just meant to find each other.

Word Count: 2365

A/N: Listen....... I tried my best. I have never written smut before and it has been a hot second since I have written in general so please for the love of god take it easy on me. I also realized it has been 2 weeks since I posted the last part so this is long overdue. I do like a lot of this one though so it's definitely crucial to the story. If all else fails read like the last paragraph. I did not want to read the smut back so I did not edit this but at this point are we surprised at that lol. Ok that's enough. Love you guys! If you like it feel free to comment and reblog as well!

Part 1 Part 2

The warm light of the fire illuminated your face and you smiled at your friends. The warmth of the fire cut through the chill of the night and a light breeze blew across your face. It had been so long since things had felt this good. Everything just felt right. John B sat with his arm wrapped around Sarah and her head was nuzzled into his chest, trying to hide her cheesy smile at Pope's almost incoherent joke. Pope and Kie sat affectionately close and laughed at Sarah's desperate attempt to hold it together. JJ came up behind you with another beer and sat down next to you.

It was moments like these that made the world feel in balance again. there was nothing to worry about, no reason to be upset. It was true serenity to you.

"I'm surprised you made it." JJ said as he kicked his feet up on the extra logs for the fire.

"So happy to see you too J." you laughed, punching JJ lightly on the arm.

He laughed and responded, "Hey it's not that I'm not happy to see you but I'm surprised you were able to get away from that needy asshole."

"Not funny J." you glared.

"Sorry Y/N. I just can't fathom how he earned even a morsel of your affection. You're too good for him."

"Cut it out JJ. I know it's hard for you guys to understand. I can't explain it but I care about him so just shut up about it. Can we just have a good night? Please?"

You looked at JJ with pleading eyes and his expression immediately softened. JJ sighed and pushed his bleach blonde hair back out of his face.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want you to get hurt." he paused and took a swig of beer before looking back at you. "I really am trying to look out for you."

"I know J but you need to let it go."

"I will, eventually...... Why is Kie's leg draped over Pope's?"

You looked at him and grinned wide. You held back laughter as your friends tipsy actions revealed the secret crush they had on each other. JJ also tried to contain his laughter as he gave you wide eyes in confusion.

"Damn J. You're gonna be the only one alone. Looks like Mr. Player can't pull like he says."

"Oh shut the fuck up. I pull so many bitches and you know it."

You both erupted into laughter causing everyone to look at you. You looked at each other to try to calm down but it only made you laugh harder.

The rest of the night went smoothly as you all sat around the fire and drank beers. As the fire began to die down, running out of fire wood, you knew the peace and serenity of the night would soon come to an end. As you all began to walk up to John B's house you heard your phone go off.

Rafe: Hey baby when are you getting home tonight?

Y/N: I was gonna stay at John B's I'm a little tipsy so I didn't wanna risk driving.

Rafe: Can I come pick you up? I wanna see you tonight.

Y/N: Sure. Is everything ok?

Rafe: Yeah. Be there in 15.

You put your phone back in your pocket and ran to catch up with the group. You anxiously stared at the clock, counting down the minutes until Rafe would come to get you. So many thoughts raced in your mind as you prayed that Rafe was ok and his dad had not lashed out.

You heard the tires of Rafe's truck pull up on the rough gravel of the drive and you bolted out of your seat.

"What's the rush for Y/N?" Pope asked, giving you a confused look.

"Rafe wanted to pick me up so he's here I'm gonna go before he has to come in. I don't want issues." you quickly grabbed your bag off the table and turned to Sarah before you prepared to make a break for the door. "Are you going back to your house or staying here Sarah?"

"I'm staying here Y/N unless you need me. Is he ok?"

"I don't know but I'll be good by myself."

With that statement you ran out the door to go meet Rafe. Your anxiety melted away when you saw Rafe's beaming grin as he leaned against his truck. He started jogging towards you as he held out his arms for you to fall into. You picked your pace up into a jog and met him for a hug. He gently lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he swayed back and forth. He took one hand off your waist to pull your face into his, crashing his lips against yours.

You unwrapped your legs and Rafe gently set you back on the ground, still attaching his lips from yours. You tried to gently pull away but Rafe leaned forward and placed more kisses on your soft lips. You laughed and put your hand on his chest, looking up at him and smiling.

"Someone's in a good mood." you giggled. "I'm guessing that dinner went well."

"It went amazing. I really feel like I had it together and guess what my dad said." he beamed at you.

"What?"

"He said he was proud of me."

"Oh my god! Rafe that's amazing! I'm so happy for you." you said giving him another deep kiss.

Rafe turned and held your hand, leading you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and helped boost you into the seat. Before he closed the door he turned back to you.

"Y/N, my dad told me you set this up. Thank you."

"Anytime, love."

You smiled back at him as he closed the door and jumped in on the driver side. He put his hand on your thigh and started back to the Cameron residence.

---------

The second you stepped out of Rafe's truck, his hands were all over you. Rafe slammed you against the door and crashed his lips in to yours, putting one hand against the car door next to you head and the other on your ass, giving it a rough squeeze. You moved your hands to grip the back of his neck and lace your fingers through his hair. He pushed you into the car harder and could feel is erection, pushing through his dress pants. You moaned quietly in his mouth as you felt his hard on push into the soft skin of your stomach.

"Why don't we take this inside baby? I don't want anyone to accidentally hear those pretty moans of yours. They're mine." Rafe said roughly against your lips.

You looked up at him and licked your lips, nodding your head. You could help but bite your lip has he dragged you towards the house. Thankfully you found no one on the way to Rafe's room and the moment the door was closed, you were both all over each other once again. Rafe lifted the hem of your shirt, urging for it to come off and you more than willingly obliged, lifting your arms for him to take it off before he quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt and threw it off his shoulders. His lips moved down off your lips and onto your neck. He found your pulse and bit it gently before moving down to your breasts as he unclipped your bra and exposed you to him. He left light purple marks all the way down and his hands moved congruently down to unbutton your shorts.

Rafe's fingers slipped down inside your panties and used his middle finger to slip in between your folds. "So wet baby." he cursed.

You moaned louder than you intended to when he massaged your clit in circular motions before he slipped his long finger inside you.

"Mmh... Rafe." you sighed, basking in all the pleasure he caused with such little effort.

"Yeah, baby. Moan for me." Rafe whispered gruffly in your ear as he slipped a second finger in you and pumped them in and out of your cunt.

"Fuck...." you choked out. It was embarrassing how much of an effect he had on you and he fucking knew it too but it was your turn to have an effect on him.

You grabbed Rafe's wrist, stopping his motions. He looked at you, confused but it was soon replaced with lust when he saw you looking up at him with your doe eyes. You removed his hand from your pants and brought it up to your mouth and sucked his finger clean of your wetness.

"Fuck Y/N. You're gonna make me cum in my pants." Rafe moaned.

You smiled and took his hand to lead him to his large bed so you could sit him on the edge. His eyes widened as he watched you fall to your knees in front of him and start to slowly unzip his pants. Your eyes widened as you saw the tent created by his hard cock and the thin material and you started to rub him through the thin material.

"Fuck Y/N, please." Rafe moaned loudly, reveling in the friction you caused but wishing there wasn't the material between your hand and his cock.

"Rafe baby, look at me." You said looking up with wide eyes as you bit your lip.

"What baby? What's wrong?" Rafe panted. He groaned when he saw how pretty you looked looking up at him.

"I'm so proud of you today. I also know you had a good day. Let me make it even better baby. Please?" You said giving him a seductive smirk.

"Fuck yes Y/N. Please, please, please." he whimpered.

You then freed his cock from the restricting material of his boxers and slid them off his hips and onto the floor. Your mouth watered at the sight of his dick springing up and touching his stomach. You spit on his length and rubbed your hand slowly over the tip before leaning down to put his balls in your mouth. You sucked on them and stroked him while he moaned praises. You licked a stripe up the underside of Rafe's dick and took the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive skin.

Rafe grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail and shoved himself to the back of your throat. "Good girl. Your little mouth takes me so good."

He helped you bob your head up and down his cock at a rapid pace. Your hands braced your hands on his strong thighs. You continued to look at him with your doe eyes even when tears formed in your eyes and fell down your face. Rafe looked down at your trembling face and you felt his dick twitch in your mouth before he pulled you off.

"I need in you baby. I need you to ride me till I come in you." Rafe said as he pulled you onto his lap.

You pulled him in for a kiss as you sat down on his lap, facing him and grinding on his hips. You grabbed his dick and positioned it at your entrance before sinking down onto him. You groaned as he filled you up. You had fucked him so many times but every time his pure size left you in awe. When he bottomed out in you, you sat there adjusting to him and you panted into his neck, preparing yourself.

"You're so fucking tight, baby girl if you don't move soon I'm gonna move you myself." Rafe whispered in your ear and you started to bounce up and down on his dick.

You tried your best to keep a fast pace but you need Rafe's help to keep up. He really did have the stamina of a race horse. His nails dug into your back as he picked you up and slammed you back down. You could feel him deep in your stomach, repeatedly hitting your cervix. You could feel your release building and you brought your hand down to rub fast circles on your clit.

"Rafe I'm so fucking close please." you cried.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my dick."

With those sweet words you came and fell into Rafe's strong chest, hands clinging onto his biceps for any type of support. Rafe groaned at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you came. This catapulted him into his own release, coating your insides in a thick white coating. Before slowly pulling out of you and looking at both your juices running down your thighs.

"I love you Rafe."

"I love you more Y/N." he said, smiling into your shoulder.

He helped you hobble to the bathroom and wash up. Before starting a shower for you both to take.

"Hey Y/N can you go grab some sweat pants for me for when we get out?" Rafe asked you sweetly.

"Only if I can steal my favorite shirt." you replied with a sly smile.

Rafe rolled his eyes and smiled at you "Fine only cause I love you. It's in the top left drawer."

You walked back in his room and grabbed a pair of black sweat pants for Rafe then went to the top left drawer to grab his dark green shirt you absolutely loved. It was soft and smelled like Rafe and fell to just the right place on your thighs. You rummaged through the drawer struggling to find it when you suddenly felt a new sensation your hand. You pulled a soft velvet box from the drawer. Your eyes were wide as you looked around before opening it, curious as to what it was. You gasped as you saw the most beautiful ring you had ever seen nestled in the box.

Everything was starting to come together. Everything Ward and Sarah said. The heirloom. The way Rafe was trying so hard to get his shit together.

"Y/N? What's taking so long?"

You turned around to see Rafe standing in the bathroom door way.

Shit.

[kageyuji]

his teammate has a crush on his s/o

⤷ suna, iwaizumi, bokuto, tendou ; [gn!reader] — part 1

TAGS: jealousy, fluff(?), swearing, the teammates were written a little ooc for the plot

NOTES: if you reblog I’ll give you my first born child in return, please and thank you <3

━━ SUNA

although surprisingly good at acting fine and saying that he was perfectly calm, he wasn’t immune to jealousy in the slightest

but he wasn’t a complete dumbass either

and he didn’t know why atsumu seemed to think that he was

of course, atsumu had a tendency to flirt with anything that breathes and has a heartbeat, but suna couldn’t shake the feeling like something with off

but he knew that you loved no one but him, so he tries not to let atsumu’s jokes and teasing get to him

until he realizes that maybe... maybe it wasn’t completely harmless

The flirting was a fairly common thing at this point. Never too heavy, just little winks and cocky smiles sent your way, along with the occasional flirtatious compliment.

“C’mon, I’m just sayin’, I could treat you so much better than Suna can.”

What.

While he didn’t like any of it, that was where Suna drew the line. He didn’t say anything at first, he didn’t react at all except a furrowing of his eyebrows.

He didn’t really know what to do — he sat there for a few moments, trying to figure out if he’d heard Atsumu right and then letting that fact sink in. And then he was walking over to the other guy.

Suna had seen the expression on your face. You looked confused to say the least, trying to figure out what Atsumu had meant. Because surely he hadn’t meant what it seemed like he was saying... right?

“Come again, Miya?” Though his tone sounded somewhat bored, it was laced with hostility.

Atsumu’s face dropped at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, blinking a few times and smiling.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I was just jokin’ arou-”

“Hm, you aren’t funny though.” Suna said in the same half-bored tone. He stepped closer to you, looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to himself.

“It’s harmless flirting, it’s a joke. What, am I not allowed to joke around anymore?” He smiled, though he was clearly nervous.

Suna set his jaw, “Not with my partner, no.”

━━ IWAIZUMI

he didn’t get jealous often, he trusted you so he could usually bite down his insecurity easily

but it’s not like anyone would hit on you when mr. biceps was with you anyway

nevertheless, he doesn’t like the way mattsun speaks to you — he knows that mattsun has a somewhat unconscious tendency for dirty jokes or being unknowingly flirtatious

and he doesn’t mind usually, but iwaizumi swears there’s some times whenever the flirtatious comments seem a little too frequent

but you haven’t stated that you were uncomfortable, so iwaizumi told himself that he could grin and bear it

everyone has limits though

Iwaizumi could have sworn that Mattsun was laying it on a lot heavier now that he didn’t think your boyfriend was still within earshot.

But of course this was all just Iwaizumi overthinking things. That was all... wasn’t it? The last thing he wanted to do was to be overbearing, to be controlling, to make you uncomfortable. So he held his breath and tried to focus on anything except your laugh.

“You can come over tonight if you want, I need to study and-”

“Y/n has plans tonight, actually.” Iwaizumi cut in, and when he turned around he was glad that he had.

It wasn’t that you looked exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like you wanted anything to do with the conversation either. A smile crossed your face at the sound of him chiming in, and you took a small step closer to him.

“It’s just studying, Y/n can help me-”

“I said that Y/n isn’t helping you do shit, alright?”

Mattsun didn’t say anything in response, just swallowed thickly, nodded, and walked away. You hadn’t seen Iwaizumi get so bothered by something like that — and Iwaizumi wasn’t expecting himself to either, but the expression on your face whenever he’d turned around caused him to abandon most of his filter.

“Are you ok?” You asked.

He took a deep breath and turned to you, his face relaxing. “More importantly, are you ok?”

━━ BOKUTO

he’s oblivious sometimes, too caught up in looking at the big picture to realize smaller things going on

which isn’t always a bad thing, but whenever he looked past the way akaashi was being just a little too friendly with you it was

it didn’t last long though, and once he had the idea planted in his head it was stuck and wasn’t going away any time soon

so naturally he was a little more mopey, although he didn’t say anything yet

that was until akaashi started getting closer to you, and you didn’t even seem to notice that

“Oh hey, Y/n! We can go someplace after school and study for a while. Uh... it’s just, you mentioned a while ago that you needed help in one of your classes.”

Bokuto frowned at his friend’s words, watching as you smiled and thanked the setter. The worry ate at him, but it wasn’t even jealousy at this point, just something like sadness. You agreed and it painted Akaashi’s cheeks pink, spread a smile across his face.

“But, Y/n...” Bokuto said, his voice almost a whine, though it fell quieter at the end of his sentence.

You looked over to him, seeing the pout and expression in his eyes. Akaashi seemed to notice it too, asking Bokuto if everything was alright.

“Yeah, Kou?”

“Don’t you want to go somewhere with me after school?” He said, looking up at you with hopefully eyes. You walked over to where he was sitting and reached to grab his hand.

“As much as I would like to, I really need to study. Akaashi was nice enough to-”

“Akaashi this and Akaashi that,” The whine in his voice was fleeting now as he came to realize just how unnecessarily kind his friend had been to you lately. “spend time with me, baby.”

The setter seemed a little more alert than he had been a moment ago, eyes wide and barely breathing. Bokuto’s eyes landed on him, and though his eyes were usually warm and kind, they now held a level of hostility you’d not seen before.

Akaashi was making up an excuse to leave quickly, telling you that something had come up and that you couldn’t study.

“...and maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time around him.”

“Huh, why?”

“No, I mean, you can- you can choose your friends and all, but just remember I’m your boyfriend.”

“I know, Kou, wouldn’t have it any other way. That date you offered though sounds good, anywhere in mind?”

━━ TENDOU

tendou gets jealous a fair amount, although none of his jealousy is unfounded

he’s not controlling or possessive though — he trusts you not to do anything, he just doesn’t trust other people

of course, there’d been some rumor started about how your whole relationship had been fake for one reason or the other, but now the secret was out so you’d broken up

so now these types of situations got more frequent, but if he sees you in a situation where someone is getting just a little too friendly, he’ll step in without another thought

it’s a little different whenever it’s his teammate though, especially when it’s ushijima

he tried not to let that get to him though, telling himself that it’s just like any other random person

“Y/n... could you help me?” Ushijima asked, laughing sheepishly.

But of course you smiled and agreed, then walked over to him. Tendou didn’t know what it was, honestly didn’t care, he just didn’t like how much it bothered him.

Alone, it was harmless, sure. But with everything else he’s been doing lately...

“Also, Y/n, I was wondering if I could ask you something? There’s this-”

“Y/n is busy that day sorry!” Tendou cut in, quickly turning around to look at the two of you. A smile was spread across his face, though nothing but hostility in his eyes. “They have plans with me.”

“Wait, what day?” You asked, not remembering any time recent that the two of you had planned on going somewhere.

“I dunno, whatever day he was about to say. You’re my partner after all.”

He smiled at you. Then his index finger was under your chin and he was pecking your lips. Heat rose in your cheeks at that simple action, but you tried to ignore it.

“Oh. I didn’t know that you and Tendou... I apologize, that-”

“It’s ok,” You laughed. “Half of the school still believes that we aren’t dating.”

Tendou huffed, then stepped closer to you and grabbed your hand. “But we are, and I would very much like to kiss you in public so people can see that. C’mon, where do you think there’s the most people right now, angel?”?

[drakenology]

Arguments - feat Bakugo, Todoroki, Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki

author’s note: i’m feeling angsty today. so this is gonna be about arguing with some of the bnha characters. anyone else feel off today? just me?

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff 🥺, and suggestive themes not full on smut. characters aged up! some of these are long.. i was feeling dramatic

headers from @annicon

Bakugo

as much as i love this man i can admit he would be SOO stubborn

would get frustrated easily

yells 🥺

he knows when to walk away when the conversation isn’t getting anywhere which is good

would NEVER hurt you (i’ve seen ppl write that this mf hits you... girl...domestic violence is not an aesthetic.)

he isn’t the best with words so it’ll take him a little while to admit he’s wrong because he can’t verbalize how sorry he is sometimes

when he does he’ll hug and kiss you and apologize like a million times after he’s done being a stubborn little prick.

gives you the best “i’m sorry “ dick imaginable holy shit

Bakugo done did it. He pissed you off. You were already having a terrible day and then you come home to this motherfucker with a bunch of people over after you told him that you weren’t in the mood for company. So for the rest of the night when everyone left, you gave him the silent treatment knowing that he HATES when you ignore him on purpose.

“Y/N?”

You say nothing, continuing scrolling through your phone to look like you were preoccupied.

“Y/N, what’s your problem? I know you hear me.” Bakugo persists.

You ignore him, turning your back to face him. He grunts and grabs your shoulder, turning you back around to face him.

“Y/N if you’re pissed at me just say that. But ignoring me is fucking immature and it’s pissing me off!” He yells. Translation: “What did I do? 🥺”

“I’M pissing YOU off!? That’s funny. Because it’s not like you didn’t completely ignore my fucking feelings tonight. Why did you invite Kirishima and Denki over after I specifically said I didn’t feel like playing fucking HOSTESS!” You shout back, throwing your phone somewhere.

“Are you serious!? I never told them to come here they just showed up. What was I supposed to do tell them to piss off!?” Katsuki asked.

“YES!” You scream, annoyed that he’s not getting the reason why you’re upset. You never minded having Bakugo’s friends over but you just wanted to have a calm night with just the two of you. You were exhausted and fixing dinner for you and 3 other people and listening to loud chatter about sports and video games was not on your to-do list.

“This is so fucking petty! I don’t get why you’re so mad that they came over.” Katsuki said shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s the problem, idiot! You don’t fucking get it! I worked all day today. I just wanted us to relax but no, you wanted to have a fucking guys night in my living room! It’s the complete disregard for my feelings that’s pissing me off not the fact that they came. I told you I was tired and you having them come over anyways was like a big fuck you to me!” You explain, your face pulled into a face Katsuki knows is your angry face. Bakugo sighs, not ready to admit that he was wrong.

“Tch. Whatever. I’m gonna go sleep on the fucking couch. Let me know when you’re done being fucking frigid.” He shouts, clearly out of anger.

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Katsuki leaves your shared room and slammed the door, you throwing yourself onto the bed. You feel tears sting your eyes as you sob into your pillow. You hated fighting with Bakugo, and you knew he hated it too. He has a hard time expressing himself without getting defensive sometimes. But you knew he felt bad. You sigh and close your eyes and go to sleep.

The next morning you get up from bed and get ready to start your day. You shower and brush your teeth, you and Bakugo strategically avoiding each other all morning to go and do your daily routines. You didn’t utter a word to each other. Just questions and short answers.

“Got work?”

“Yup.”

“When?”

“7:30.”

The silence killed you both as you sat at the table and ate breakfast, Bakugo’s face pulled into a frown as he ate. You roll your eyes and go to put your dishes in the sink and grab his once he’s done. You can hear him get up from his chair as you wash both your plates and dry them. You had assumed he was leaving so you just wash all the rest of the dishes without turning your back. Suddenly you felt familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Let me go.” You say, tearing up at the sudden touch. He was trying to make up with you and you were so ready to forgive him. The tension was almost too much to bear. This fight was small and it turned into something way bigger than need be.

“Not until you listen to me. I’m sorry, ok? I should have never yelled at you the way I did. And calling you frigid wasn’t ok either. I shoulda just told everyone to go home. We have those dumbasses over all the time. One night wouldn’t have killed me. I’m sorry. Can we just forget this shit ever happened? I hate it when you’re mad at me.” He pleaded, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You smile and turn around to look at his face, cupping his cheeks in both your hands as you stand on you tip toes to kiss him. He kisses you back eagerly, happy that you and him are back on good terms. He pulled away from the heated kiss and looks at the clock on the microwave.

“6:30...we still have an hour to kill. If you’re late I’ll drop you off.” Katsuki says, his eyes turning dark with feral lust.

“Late? What are yo-“ you’re interrupted by Bakugo pulling you into your bedroom with determination to make things right.. his way.

Tamaki (🥺 my new found love)

Tamaki is NOT a confrontational person so arguing with you is really hard. He hates raising his voice or even getting to a point to where he’s angry because he doesn’t want to think about hurting you in anyway.

He’ll shut down and turn cold or try and act nonchalant.

he might even avoid conflict by changing the subject

if he’s riled up enough though he’ll cuss you out.. to his dismay

doesn’t like being mad at you and vice versa

hates arguments.. like honestly can you just get over it so he can eat you out now?

speaking of eating you out, he gives apology head and he won’t stop until you say you forgive him.

Tamaki didn’t like to admit it but he was really jealous. Like really really jealous like YANDERE type jealous. You and him were out to dinner with Mirio so you were all chatting about mindless nothing, catching up like you always do. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary for you but to Tamaki it appeared that Mirio was a little too playful at dinner with you. He was cracking jokes and poking fun and Tamaki took it as him flirting with you; which Mirio would never disrespect your relationship like that. Rage sat in the pit of Tamaki’s chest as you laugh at all his jokes. He was furious but hid it pretty well for the night.

��And then Tamaki wet himself in front of the whole class when I scared him with my quirk in middle school. Can you believe it?” Mirio laughs, causing you to laugh at the thought.

“Oh leave him alone, Togata.” You giggle, waving your hand in front of your face to stop the tears from laughter. He had been making you laugh all night all to Tamaki’s disliking. He was quiet all dinner, which you noticed immediately after Togata’s last joke.

“Hey Tamaki, is everything ok?” You ask, concerned that he might not want to be out anymore.

“Yeah.” He said coldly. “Actually I’m just gonna go to the car. I feel kinda sick.” He stands from his seat and walks to the exit, absolutely fucking furious that you were “flirting” with his childhood friend right in front of him.

“Awkward. What’s up with him?” Mirio asks, completely dumb founded by Tamaki’s sudden disappearance.

“I dunno. I’m gonna go to the car and see what’s wrong. Do you mind?” You ask, standing from your seat.

“Nah that’s cool. I’m actually gonna head out. You go on ahead, Y/N. I’ll take care of the tab.. this time.” Mirio jokes. You giggle and thank him, walking towards the exit. You walk through the parking lot and find the car, seeing Tamaki sitting in the passenger side with his arms crossed across his chest. What was his deal? You open the car door and sit in the driver’s side to meet a thick tension.

“What’s wrong Tamaki? Do you really feel sick or are you upset with me?” You ask.

“Why don’t you ask Mirio? I’m sure he’ll be able to answer since he’s the only guy you talked to all night. It was like I wasn’t even there.” Tamaki says, calm but obviously pestered.

“Is that was this is about? Tama you know it wasn’t like that. Mirio has always been a jokester what’s the difference now?” You ask, getting a little upset at his accusation.

“The difference is that he was trying to make a pass at you. He was so obviously flirting with you.” He says, his tone becoming stern. You’re shocked at how he was getting, frowning at how unreasonable he was being.

“No he wasn’t, Tamaki.” You say, looking him dead in his eyes.

“Yes he was. I’m not about to fight with you about this he was clearly fucking flirting with you. He joked with you all night and you laughed at every single thing he said. You must want to fuck him, don’t you?” He asked, looking at you with some sort of betrayal in his eyes. This infuriates you.

“What are you talking about!? You know I would never cheat on you Tamaki. Especially not with your best friend. What’s with you!?” You ask sternly, not amused or pleased in the slightest.

“Whatever, Y/N.” Tamaki says, looking out the car window while turning the other way so he’s not facing your side of the car. He knew this was stupid and he knew your loyalty was never to be questioned but he couldn’t shake this feeling of jealousy.

“No. You don’t get to start a fight and then blow me off when you’re through arguing! Talk to me!” You yell, furious at this point. Tamaki shrugs, avoiding the situation entirely now.

“Just drive. I wanna go home.” He says, not taking his eyes off the view from his window. You roll your eyes and start the car, pulling out of the parking lot to start your way home. The drive home was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You were so angry that you didn’t talk to Tamaki the whole way home, knowing you’d probably cuss him out if he said the wrong thing. Tamaki immediately felt bad after picking that fight. He didn’t know what came over him, he knew he had to make it up to you before you two go to bed angry with each other. You approach your shared apartment and park the car, silence still riddling the car. The tension between you both was intense and it scared you. You’ve never seen Tamaki this upset. Jealousy was always an issue for him but he’s never reacted this strongly.

“Y/N?” Tamaki says breaking the silence. You look at him, a little relieved that he’s talking to you again.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know you’d never cheat on me, of course. But I was just so jealous. It felt like you and Mirio were on a date and I was just the third wheel. The thought of him taking you from me drove me crazy. I wasn’t thinking. Can you forgive me?” He says, placing his hand on top of yours on the steering wheel. You sniffle, tearing up at his apology.

“Tamaki, I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I love you so much. No one could ever take your place, not even Mirio. I’d never betray you like that, ever.” You sob, tears flowing down your face. Tamaki questioning your loyalty really hurt your feelings and he hated seeing you cry.

“I know that. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. It was so stupid of me to even assume.” He says, taking his hand and wiping your tears away. He took your hand and gave it a sweet kiss to soothe you, rubbing circles with his thumb on it as he consoled you. You giggle and wipe your tears, happy that you guys made up after that silly fight.

“Let’s go inside.”

Todoroki

arguments between you two get heated. It gets to a point where sometimes you don’t speak to each other for days. he’ll definitely give small reminders that he still loves you to butter you up to alleviate some of the tension.

raises his voice

just as stubborn as bakugo

to a fault of his upbringing facing his emotions was hard for him sometimes, causing him to be cold when you fight

when it’s time to get over it and make up he’ll make it a huge event; flowers, chocolates and lots of freaky apology sex

cant stand arguing with you just like tamaki but wont back down in the slightest

is sure he doesn’t say anything harsh to make the situation worse.

“Why are you being so stubborn?!” You shout at your bi-colored haired boyfriend. The two of you have been fighting all day to your surprise. Shoto was usually easy going and you two hardly fought. But today, a bug seemed to have crawled up Todoroki’s ass and he’s been picking fights all day. You’ve been arguing about small things like who left the bathroom light on or who ate the last hot pocket. Right now it was an argument about when you’re going to meet his father Endeavor. It’s been almost a year since you two have been together and you don’t even think his father knows you exist.

“For the last time Y/N we’re not going to my dad’s house. That’s final! You can argue with yourself about this. End of discussion.” Shoto says, very annoyed at the thought of being near his father. He still couldn’t stand him, even as an adult. He can’t bring himself to bring you around him because he knows how he can be. If he even says something slightly rude to you he’ll flip the fuck out. You groan in frustration, wishing he’d at least consider.

“He doesn’t know we’re together does he!? What am I to you some secret? Why did you stay with me all this time if your family doesn’t even know I exist !?” You shout, tearing up with seering anger.

“It’s not that. Of course he knows we’re together; my whole family knows! Why do you want to involve him so badly?!” Shoto yells.

“Why wouldn’t I want to meet my fucking boyfriend’s father!? You’re not making any sense.” You say, getting more and more frustrated as Shoto makes excuses.

“You know what? Fine. We’ll go meet him tomorrow. But as soon as he treats you like you’re not good enough for me don’t be surprised when I tell you I fucking told you so. God you can be so stubborn sometimes.” Shoto shouts, rolling his eyes at you.

“Oh I’M stubborn!? That’s rich coming from you. You’re being so unreasonable right now. I know you and your father-“

“YOU DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT MY FATHER. Stop speaking on things you haven’t the first idea about!” Shoto yells, punching a nearby wall. (Oop.) You flinch, shocked at how angry he got so quickly. You tear up and run off to your bedroom, Todoroki immediately regretting getting so upset with you. He scared you and that’s something he never wanted to do to you under any circumstances. You cried yourself to sleep that night, angry that things got so heated. Why did he react like that? And why was he treating you as if you knew nothing about him and his father. He would vent to you about him all the time and you gave him advice when you could. But tonight you felt like you were nothing but an outsider. Shoto didn’t even bother coming into the room. He couldn’t face you after making you cry. Right now, he hated himself for treating you like that. He was just so afraid of his father’s judgement he didn’t want him to hurt your feelings with how crass he was. If Endeavor found the slightest thing wrong with you he’d never let you or him forget it. He could hear him now calling you unworthy of the Todoroki name. The thought alone enraged him. In his own cryptic way, he was trying to protect you from him but this was no way to do it nor did he have the right. Todoroki slept on the couch, missing your warmth against him in your bed.

The next morning the two of you drove to the Todoroki estates in silence. You were still pissed at him and Shoto didn’t want to say anything to further upset you. He was annoyed he was making this trip in the first place but he knew he had to man up for your sake. It was unfair of him to try and keep you away from his family especially since you would one day take on his name and be a part of the family when he married you. He knew he couldn’t keep you away forever, but god couldn’t he have had a little more time? He dreaded this day.

“Ready?” Shoto asks coldly, trying to hide his remorse from his tone. You nod, getting out of the car before he could walk over and open the door for you. Shoto is surprised and gets out with you, guiding you to his old home. He can’t lie, he’s so fucking nervous. What if he hates you? Not that he cares what he thinks, he’ll marry you anyway but still. He at least wants his blessing. You walk with Shoto to the main room of the home and wait for Endeavor to come downstairs. Suddenly you hear footsteps from across the room. It was him. He was tall and his aura was so dark and intimidating.

“You must be Y/N.” Endeavor says, looking down at your small frame. You nod, a wave of nervousness shooting through your body.

“N-Nice to meet you sir.” You bow respectfully.

“No need for that. Please, have a seat.” Endeavor says gesturing to the couch. You and Shoto sit down next to each other, Endeavor following suit by sitting across from you two.

“So.. how long have you two been together?” Endeavor asks, his booming voice almost sending an echo throughout the empty room. You gulp and look towards Shoto.

“10 months.” He answers for you, taking your hand to calm you. You’re still mad at him but god you’re glad he’s doing his best to ease your anxiety.

“And you just now arrange a meeting? Hm.” Endeavor questions, looking at you as if he was scanning you to find something irredeemable about you. You look down at your lap, unable to keep eye contact with the intimidating man.

“I-I wanted to meet with you sooner. Me and Shoto fought about coming here last night but I convinced him.” You say nervously.

“I see. You seem like an ok girl. Shoto has had his fair share of.. inadequate women in his life so, you’re a step up from the rest.” Endeavor says, motioning for a maid to make you all some tea. You laugh nervously, Shoto squeezing your hand in annoyance. Was that a compliment?

“You two seem like you’ve been fighting.” Endeavor says suddenly, observing both your body language. You’re both shocked as you turn to look at each other. How’d he know that?

“What’s it to you?” Shoto asks, glaring at his father.

“Oh nothing. But if you’re planning on marrying this girl it’s probably best to not argue too much with her. Hell, she might up and leave.”

Shoto looks at you, pain in his eyes. The look on his face alone said “I’m sorry.” Shoto hated to admit it but his father was right. Fighting as much as you have been, especially the fight you had last night was toxic and could take a toll on your relationship.

You smile at him and turn to Endeavor

“I’d never leave him.” You say, snuggling closer to Shoto as he blushed. He was embarrassed that he was being so vulnerable around his father but he knew that only you could make this happen.

After a long conversation with Endeavor and Shoto, you leave with a feeling that you might have won him over. You think? He was hard to read, just like Shoto. He was more like his father than he likes to admit. Shoto opens the car door for you to get inside and then walks to the drivers side to come in. You sit in the car for a while, silent until Shoto grabs you and leans over to kiss you. You kiss him back, tearing up into the kiss.

“I’m sorry, snowflake. I can’t believe I raised my voice at you like that. I was just so scared that he was gonna hate you and say something disrespectful. I should have just told you that instead of being defensive. I’m so so sorry I scared you. Please forgive me. ” He pleaded, peppering kissing on your face.

“I know. And I forgive you.” You giggle, pulling Todoroki closer to you to kiss him again.

Kirishima

Out of all the boys he’s the least stubborn when it comes to fighting. But don’t be fooled, he’ll argue you down. he’s very good at managing his temper when it comes to you.

Regrets starting a fight in the first place

Just wants to cuddle and go back to normal

But when he’s angry hooo boy

doesn’t even yell, he’s like a calm angry which is terrifying

tries talking over you, trying to plead his case

will not rest until the situation is resolved and over with so you guys can move on

like all the others... apology sex

will try not to lose his patience

You and Kirishima had been together for a while now so it was only inevitable that you two have your first fight. You were always a vigilant person and wanted to help others even though you were quirkless like Deku was at one point. Kirishima is protective of you to a fault and the thought of you getting hurt or worse didn’t sit well with him at all. You assured him that you were capable of taking care of yourself and protecting yourself but he wasn’t having any of it. You spent years perfecting your martial arts skills, training your ass off for countless hours everyday and he knew that. But he didn’t want you to one day meet your match without him there to protect you.

“Y/N, drop it. You’re not going on missions with me and that’s final. It’s too dangerous.” Eijiro said, his brows furrowed. He was trying not to lose his patience with you but you kept insisting. He just wished you’d forget about this whole thing; for your safety.

“You don’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do! I’m fully capable for taking care of myself and you know that.” You yell, irritated at your boyfriend underestimating your abilities. Eijiro sighs and stands up from the couch to stand in front of you, inching so close you could almost kiss.

“I’ll die before I let you go out there. Do you know what would happen to me; to your friends and family if something happened to you!? We’d be crushed. Please just drop this.” Kirishima says, wanting to avoid this conversation all together. But alas, nothing was changing your mind. You were very head strong and stubborn to no avail so you weren’t going down without a fight.

“You can’t stop me!” You yell

“Oh I can’t?” Eijiro challenged.

“No. You can’t. You can’t treat me like a child, Eijiro.” You say. “How can you say I’m not ready if you don’t give me a chance to prove I am!?”

“Because you just aren’t! Okay!? You say you’re not a child but you’re acting like one and a petulant one at that. Just drop it! God, you can be so stubborn sometimes. Don’t you see I’m just trying to keep you safe!?” Kirishima yells, instantly regretting raising his voice at you and losing his cool. You tear up, furious that he’s treating you like some kid. You grab your stuff and prepare to leave his apartment.

“Where are you going?” Kirishima sighs

“Fuck you, Eijiro.” You say, walking away from him and going outside to cool off. Kirishima tries to grab you before you leave but you snatch your arm away from him and walk outside with a huff and a slam of the door. You wipe your hot tears away and start aimlessly walking down the street to go home. Hell, you don’t even know your way home from Eijiro’s place but you’ll be damned if you go back there. As you walk you see Kirishima’s car pull up to the side of you, driving slowly to keep up with your walking pace.

“Y/N please get in the car.” He says out the car window

“No! I don’t wanna talk to you so just go away!” You yell, continuing to walk as the brisk wind assaults your bare skin. Dammit you forgot your coat.

“Y/N! You’re being ridiculous just please get in the car. You left your jacket; it’s freezing out here!” Eijiro shouts, getting out of the car and grabbing you to pull you inside. You groan, obviously being overpowered by your strong boyfriend. Kirishima slams the door and gets back inside, drives back to his apartment and parks in the driveway. He sighs and leans his head on the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry I got so heated with you. But can you blame me? I’m worried about you. Sure we’ll be on these missions together but what if something happens? What if I’m not there to protect you when something goes wrong? These missions are unpredictable; anything could happen and I’d literally die if even a scratch is put on you.” Eijiro pleads. You start crying, sniffling at his words. He was right to be worried.

“I love you, Eijiro and I appreciate you being so concerned about me. But that doesn’t give you the right to shelter me. You can’t just force me to not follow my dream.” You sob, wiping your tears away. Eijiro grabs your hand and kisses it.

“I know. I just can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. But if this is what you really want, I have no choice but to at least see this through.” Kirishima says, holding your small hand in his two massive ones. You smile, putting your other hand on top of his.

“Thank you. Also, I’m sorry for saying fuck you to you. That was mean.” You say pouting.

“It was. Hurt my feelings.” Eijiro said faking sadness, immediately laughing as he watched your face frown up again at the thought of hurting his feelings.

“Oh shut up.”

[ptergwen]

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

-

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#246

“Here boy. I know who and what you are. Do you know who I am?… Liar. You’re a faggot liar. Yes you do. You have been drooling over me for weeks now. Follow me. I got us a room at the motel next door….

“The regulars here at the diner don’t care that I prefer fucking faggots like you over broads. I just don’t broadcast it like you do. I’ve seen you talking to some of the boys I have fucked. You know I have a big dick and that I pile drive boy cunt.

“I’ve seen you in the parking lot. You watch the guys like me going into the bookstore across the lot. You want to follow them in, but the bookstore won’t let you. They know you’re underage. Until today. Now you are legal to fuck. Yeah, I know your 18th birthday is today. I know a lot of things about you. I know you cruise the bookstore, and the bathroom the bar shares with the diner. I know you are finishing up at high school.

“Here’s our room. I fuck the owner and he let’s me use a secluded empty room whenever I need. So, you can scream when I tear up your cunt. Having a big dick has many many many advantages. I need to let off some steam from a long day on the farm. Get naked, I’m gonna get the ropes out. My reputation is well known that I am a twisted fucker. Hell my conquests told you the such, and yet you came with me here.

“Always remember this, I am always in control of everything. Right now, that includes you. Naked. And then get on your knees and face me. See, it’s natural for you to follow orders. And where’s your phone?… Hand it to me…. Continue stripping. Well,… You’re kinda scrawny. You’ve never worked a hard day at anything, and it shows. Damn your pecker is tiny. That’s the way I like it. My cock is fucking huge, and you need to realize your place is on your knees in front of real men. You will never be a real man. You do know that, right?…

“You know what I want you to do. I want you to beg me to fuck you. I want you to beg me to brutalize your cunt. And while you are begging me and degrading and humiliating yourself, I will be jacking off to you. Having a big dick requires a little extra tugging to get hard. I know you wouldn’t know anything about that. You are too focused on your cunt. And call it a cunt a number of times, especially when you are fingering it. I want you to tell me that you need for me to rape you. Your goal is to degrade yourself. Tell me how much of a faggot you are. And focus on your tiny clit there. Tell me how you envy any real man with a real sized dick. And the thing I need for you to beg me to rape you—not have sex, not make love—rape. Use that word often.

“Here look up at me, at your phone. Thanks for letting me use your face to unlock it. I will be recording this on your phone. I want you to have a record of how low you are. I want you to watch this every morning as you are about to jack off at home. Speaking of jacking off, I should take my cock out for you. Damn, even totally limp, it’s way bigger than yours hard.

“You have three minutes to fully degrade yourself. Go!…

“…That’s time. Ok. See how big you got me? The full nine and a half inch dick, ready to rape the hell out of you. Crawl over here and blow me, but first put on this blindfold. I don’t want you to see anything. Good, now show me how good you are as a faggot cocksucker. Throat me to the nut. Put as much spit on it as you can. That’s pretty much the lube I will be using to tear your cunt up. Maybe if you are good, I will use some spit on the cunt. Take your time, but throat me. Get into it faggot. I’m gonna chill here… Open that fucking throat… Gag on that monster….

“You really are pathetic. Get your ass on the bed, face down. Need to tie you down. What? Now you want out? Aww hell the fuck no. I said on the fucking bed. Ok. You really want this to be a rape don’t you? Look I know my way around ropes and tying up livestock. I do work in a farm, and I am a part of the local rodeo. Calling out for help ain’t going to help.

“And, I sent myself a copy of that video where you are begging me to rape you and to show you no mercy. Nobody will believe you. Just a few more seconds, and there! You ain’t going nowhere now. You are going to be in that position for some time. Your cunt is on display, ready to be mounted.

“But first, I’m going to fuckin’ welt you up. I got my son’s belt here; mine doesn’t move through the air as nicely as his, and besides I’m still wearing mine. You don’t even deserve me stripping for you. When it comes to whipping, I don’t stop to let you recover.

“Being your birthday, It’s eighteen strokes in a row. Start your fucking screaming now. One, two, three,… louder fucker, you deserve every one of these strokes… Eight, nine, ten,… I can already see the welts forming. Oh yeah, bright red cheeks get me leaking. When I hit number twenty-five, I’m going right to the root whether or not you are ready. And it’s not going to take me very long to nut in you. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and… eighteen.

“Quit your crying faggot. Here, bite down on my son’s belt. You really have me leaking here. And… all the way in. Fuck yes! This cunt hasn’t been fucked much, has it? Stop your screaming, I asked you a fucking question. You get fucked much?… No?… Wait, that was a cherry pop? Oh fuck yeah. I’m close to giving you some cream to go on your cherry pie. Oh yeah. Fuck. Take it bitch. Feel my load fill you up. Faggot.

“That’s what you have to look forward to for the next few days. Oh man, fuck. I’m gonna lay here for a while. Watch your head, my cigar is only an inch or two from your cheek. I don’t want to brand you,… well at least not yet. Let go of the belt. Holy shit. You really did bite down hard. I can’t wait to give this back to him and tell him how the teethmarks came about.

“Oh yeah, he knows I’m gay. He doesn’t care. He’s totally straight, and I mean totally straight. Now just lay there; you ain’t going anywhere. But I want you to hear this. Yeah, I kept my sex life away from him until one day when he walked in on me fisting his math teacher, Mr. Gunter.

“Oh yeah, he goes to the same high school as you. He too is ready to graduate. You know him, oh yes you do. You’ve been texting him all year, ever since he transferred to your school. You were not very nice to him. In fact, you and a few of your friends beat him up. And what reason did you have for giving him a black eye?… Don’t remember? You called him a faggot. You told your friends that he hit on you in gym class. Talk about projecting.

“When he came home suspended for fighting and with a black eye, I wanted details. He gave me your name and showed me your pic in the yearbook. And wouldn’t you know, I recognized you from your attempted bookstore runs. A week later you start hanging around the diner. You couldn’t get into the bar area, but you sat every Friday afternoon in that same spot in my line of vision, pretending to read that book while groping yourself. So subtle.

“I had your background run by a this cop I regularly fuck. He told me a shitload about you. He’s the one that informed the bookstore across the street that you were underage. There’s a boy—a year older than you—that I fuck who is a Facebook friend of yours showed me your wall. I got to go through every word you wrote while he was giving me head. And unlike you, he knows how to deep throat. Again, having a big dick has its advantages.

“And about that time, you and my son were suspended, you posted a viral video of a bullied kid getting revenge on the bully by sleeping with the bully’s mom. And your comment was something like, ‘Best served cold.’

“Funny thing is, I’m out. While I don’t broadcast it in this tiny town, but I don’t hide it. My son and ex-wife know. The ranch I work at knows. Hell, the main reason how I got the job was that I fucked the owner and told him that I was looking for a job. The guys at the bar all know. So how were you going to humiliate my son? He probably would say, ‘He fucked you? You ain’t the first, you won’t be the last.’ or something like that.

“So, what’s happening next for you? Certainly not humiliating my son. No, for you, I have plans. I’m gonna fuck you again. I’ll leave you tied up. The motel is going to get full later on tonight, mostly truckers. I’ve let the motel owner and the guy that works the bookstore that you are here ready for all horny truckers.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to pass you over to this biker club one of my friends is a member of. He already set up something really nasty for you. The gang already knows what a piece of shit you are. They can’t wait to get their hands on you, and I can’t wait to hear all about it. By the end of the weekend, your cunt will be destroyed. I will give you two black eyes to make up for the one you gave my boy. Most likely your hair will be removed. You are going to be beaten. Hell, my cop buddy is a former boxer. He’s going to string you up and use you as a punching bag.

“And in the end,… I will decide if you keep your balls. Wow. That’s the first time you have flinched while lying under me. Aw, shut up. I work with livestock every day. I know how to castrate a bull. I haven’t decided about you. Just keep that in mind throughout the weekend. You complain or resist, your balls will be in jeopardy.

“You probably won’t see much of me. But I will you. I have it arranged to have it all filmed for me. I expect to see a cum hungry faggot whore knowing his place of being used by real men. Your balls will depend on it. For me, I’m going to be with my son doing dad things.

“And I don’t plan on letting him in to the fact that you are a faggot whore lookin to get raped seeing, he already knows. How do I know? I text him, while you were trying to give me head. I wrote, from your phone, ‘I have to get this off my chest. I am a faggot whore. I can’t live in the closet anymore. Please share this video.’

“Then I sent him your video. While you are going to be in a living hell for the next four days, you won’t be able to stop him or anyone from finding out. This is how I want it. As I said before, I am always in control of everything. Oh, and happy birthday.”

[danidrabbles]

Ruined

Summary: When you see Javi receive all kinds of attention after hosting an event, you're overcome with the urge to remind him who he belongs to.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: jealousy/possessiveness, (unprotected) p in v sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, slight dom/sub vibes, Daddy kink (only two counts ok), feelings? If I forgot anything, let me know!

Notes: I borrowed @javier-pena’s man (with permission) to bring you this one shot. Astrid, thank you for letting me imagine away in this little world you created! And for letting me write this! And for proof reading this... I hope you like the one word title I picked. (Also, it just dawned on me... is this technically... fanfiction of fanfiction?). Please read Care, Reverberate, Take, and this ask, to read more about this man and/or if you want read some spectacular writing — Astrid is so criminally good at writing him and I can only hope to reach her levels. Enjoy!

--

You want him ruined.

That’s all you could think about earlier, during the charity event - his charity event.

Not at the beginning of the evening, though.

He delivered the welcome speech, enthusing curious patrons to flip open their cheque books and donate a generous amount. He looked gorgeous in his fitted grey suit with a bow tie to match and a white dress shirt, and with his soft curls gelled back and combed into a side part. The sudden, unannounced rush of pride that flooded your body made your lips stretch into a warm, wide smile as you watched him in his element. Javi was charming, passionate, funny, gesticulating wildly as his glimmering eyes looked around the room, and there was no doubt about it that his positive, genuine attitude was the reason the event had been a smash hit.

Later, after he got off the stage, you watched him from your table, happy to let him be the social butterfly as he made small talk with some of the patrons while you sipped on your champagne. Once every few minutes, Javi’s eyes found yours, like he couldn’t help himself, and it made the pride from earlier sit low in your stomach, made it turn liquid between your legs.

It morphed into something else entirely as the event neared its end. When you watched a woman walk over. She was gorgeous, tall, and the tops of her tits bounced from the bodice of her strapless dress with each step she took. She went straight for Javi, of course, offering her hand, leaning in to kiss his cheek, touching his arm when he said something that made her laugh.

That’s when the thought came.

You weren’t jealous. That’s what you told yourself as the feeling in your gut twisted into something akin to possessive. You knew better than to be jealous - you knew Javi better than to be jealous. He was with you, only with you, as devoted to you as you were to him, and you knew that. He knew that.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to remind him of that every once in a while.

You just wanted to show him who he belonged to, wanted to twist your fingers into his coiffed locks, run your fingers through them until they came undone, until he looked dishevelled. You wanted his eyes on you, unable to look away, the familiar deep brown glazed over with pleasure as you—

“Ready to get out of here, baby?” Javi asked, breaking you out of your daydream to find him with his hand extended towards you and a soft expression in his face.

--

You want him ruined.

It’s still all you can think about, now, at home.

You’re getting there, though.

You watch him remove his jacket, his waistcoat, the bowtie, then steer him to the couch and unceremoniously drop yourself in his lap.

He looks so beautiful and surprised under you, and you can’t help but lean in to kiss him. Your hands, finally, find his hair, gripping where the slippery strands allow it, pulling at it with a moan. His mouth opens under yours at the gesture, and you press closer to him to deepen the kiss.

It’s not often that you charge at him like this. Usually there’s more of a mutual push and pull between the two of you, and usually it’s Javi who gives in, but it’s not always out of impatience. It’s in his nature to please, to give you everything you desire in every way imaginable. And sometimes it makes you greedy, greedy to take everything he’s offering on with both hands. But tonight it makes you want to give all of that to him. It makes you want to pour every ounce of pride, every bit of love, every drip of desire into your kiss. It makes you greedy to give.

“I’ve been dying to have you to myself all night,” you admit between the press of your lips and the nips of your teeth.

“I could tell,” Javi replies. “You looked pouty before we left, baby. You always pull that face when you want to get fucked, I recognized it from across the room.” His voice is low as his hands slide over your thighs, toying with the lacy fabric at the tops of your stockings.

You almost go slack against him at the soft touch, but letting him take control isn’t your plan for tonight, so instead, you pull away from him. Lightning quick, your hands find his to lace your fingers together, to press them into the back of the couch.

Javi cocks an eyebrow, curious eyes settled on your own as he slumps back against the cushions. It’s a rush, the clear sign of resignation, that he’ll let you lead. It makes your hips roll against his, where you feel the swell of his arousal under you, and you bite your lip to hide a smile when his mouth drops open around a groan.

“You’re going to keep your hands right. here,” you say as you guide your joined hands to your waist before untangling them and pushing his hands down, gently taking his rights to touch you anywhere but right there, “and let me do the rest, aren’t you, Javi?”

All he does is nod in response.

“Say it, baby,” you urge as you brush a stray lock of dark hair from his forehead.

“I’m going to keep my hands right here,” he says, “and let you do whatever you want.”

Another rush of endorphins hums pleasantly through your veins at his words, and you drop a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips, murmuring a Good, before getting to work on his trousers. It’s a practiced move, the pull at the leather, the slide through the buckle, the button, the zipper… and before you know it you can reach inside, wrap your hand around where he’s hard, velvet smooth. His fingers dig into you as a rough sound bubbles up from his throat at the touch when you stroke him once, twice, three times.

“You’re so hard,” you observe, feeling him throb in your palm at the words. Your head tips up to look at him, “All for me, right?”

“It is— Fuck, of course it is.” He grunts when your grip at the base of him tightens, when you hold him still so you can lean down to let a string of saliva fall onto the swollen head of his cock to ease the glide of your hand. “Always for you, only for you.”

With a satisfied sound, you release him from your grip, and the sight of his cock curved back against the fabric of his dress shirt, the tip resting just below one of the glimmering white buttons is oddly enticing. Acutely aware of your own arousal, you pull at the bunched up fabric of your dress, hoist it up to your middle until Javi’s fingers fix the fabric in place. Hooking your panties to the side, another practiced move, you shuffle closer to him, taking his cock in your free hand and rubbing the head against your clit with a joint moan from the both of you.

For a moment, you watch as you move him against you, cupping your hand around his length and rubbing yourself against him, the precome that’s oozing from him making the slide that much easier, that much better.

“Please, sweetheart, fuck me,” Javi says, the blunt ridges of his fingernails pressing tighter into your skin where he holds you as he tries to coax you into giving him more. “Need to be inside you.”

“Maybe,” you sigh. “I think you’d slide right in; can you feel how wet I am?”

Suddenly, Javi’s fingers flex against you, and then he lets go of you. His face is unreadable, the furrow of his brow not matching the look in his eyes. Your body goes rigid in anticipation, cunt fluttering against where you’re pressed up against him, because for a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, that he’s gonna pull you up and slide home.

But he doesn’t.

With a shuddering sigh, he gathers up the fabric of your dress that has fallen back down, and slides it up your body until he’s once more holding you where you told him to. He gives the slightest of nods, the softest of “Sorry”s as he regains his composure.

You’re almost there, you realize, the heat of relief and arousal burning through you as you watch him settle. And just like that you decide you won’t give him any reprieve.

"Tell me,” you say, “who does this pussy belong to?" Your voice is sticky sweet despite the filthy words of the question.

“Me,” he growls immediately.

“Who?” you ask innocently, cocking your head as you begin to move yourself against him once more.

His head falls back against the couch. "Jesus Christ, baby…,” he sighs, and you can tell he knows what you want from him.

“Tell me, Javi,” you say sharply. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“To Daddy,” he relents, and your heart swells at the way he refers to himself, at the sound of his voice; the way it sounds broken, fucked out, wrecked.

"Hmm-hmm, that's right,” you nod, holding his gaze as you sit up on your knees and position him at your entrance, “all yours, Daddy." You sink down on him slowly, eyes fluttering closed as you feel every delicious inch of him, as he takes his place inside of you, until you’re really settled in his lap.

When your eyes open again, you’re finally treated to the vision from your fantasy: Javi’s eyes are at half-mast, glazed over in pleasure, his pupils blown wide with lust, and a rush of slick coats him where he’s buried deep when you realize you’ve fucked him dumb for once.

You ride him slowly, building the both of you up to something spectacular as you find his hair again, tugging sharply to keep his lidded eyes on yours through the ebb and flow of your body on top of his. The very tip of him nudges against that soft spot deep inside of you, and you circle your hips until you find it with every roll of your hips.

“You’re being so good for me, Javi” you say, and you feel him grow harder inside of you at the praise, feel him swelling with his impending release. “Such a good man, always giving me everything and now letting me give this to you.”

A strangled noise tears from Javi’s throat when you find your clit, circling the stiff bundle of nerves and clenching up around him in the process. You fall quicker than you anticipated, cling to him, fingers digging into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” you warn him, red hot desire licking its way up your spine, “I need you to come with me, okay? Need you to come inside, fill me—”

“Yes,” he rasps, hands anchored at your waist in a way that’s almost painful. You excuse the interruption as you watch him struggle to keep his eyes open, as he barely works out a, “You’re gonna make me come,” before you feel him pulse inside of you.

It’s that feeling, the feeling of him coating you in himself, marking you as his, your brain steadily provides, that pushes you over the edge. Your thighs tremble around his as you pant his name, as you contract around him while you helplessly rub your clit.

You’ve probably stained his suit beyond recovery, you think and you look down to confirm, watch him leak from you until it pools at the base of his cock. With a sigh, you slump forward, forehead knocking against Javi’s shoulder.

“Permission...,” he begins, pausing to draw another breath, “to touch you?”

When you nod against him, his hands unhook themselves from your waist to cup your jaw, pull you up until he can fit his lips to yours with a satisfied sound. When he pulls away, he presses his forehead to yours, and you mumble more praise from him, tell him how good it was, how much you love him, how you can’t wait to get the both of you cleaned up and get to bed, so you can hold him close.

You get there eventually, the sticky logistics of your trip to the bathroom, the quick shower, they’re all a forgotten haze when you find yourself curled up around his body instead of the other way around. You press yourself against his back, your cheek against his warm skin, your nose fitting between his shoulder blades while his hands rest over yours in your embrace.

You support each other, ruin each other, put each other back together again, and it’s everything you could ever want.

It’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

--

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[writefightandflightclub]

Disarming (Santi x fem!reader)

Summary: you and Santi - good friends- are Best Man and Maid of Honour at Frankie’s wedding, and guess what? There’s only one bed!

What is this? This is 5/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. The prompt is “We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend”, requested by @woakiees​. Another double trope extravaganza! Hadley, I’m so pleased you suggested Santi for this one, as he immediately came to mind when I was writing this prompt :D Thank you so much for requesting! <3

If you’d like to  read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Apparently I get carried away EVERY time I write Santi. WHY AM I LIKE THIS?! :-/

Word count: 7.5k. I’M SO SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

Rating: 18+ ONLY (minors out, please, do not read or interact)

Warnings: it gets angsty in the middle. Reader has nightmare- comfort offered. Mentions of reader being “hurt” in the past but vague and unspecified. They have a fight. One or two alcohol mentions- no actual consumption. Food mention. Swearing. Steam leading into smut but not explicit- mentions of masturbation, erections, making-out, one brief allusion to choking kink. Let me know if I missed anything.

Tagging: @isvvc-pvscvl​ @casifer-is-king​ (loads of the tags aren’t working :-/)

GIF: @nathan-bateman​

From the first moment you met Santi, you had simply fallen into step with him. It was effortless, and so, as soon as you found yourself by his side, you stayed there. What’s more, that’s exactly where he wanted you to be.

Despite the man’s hard, no-nonsense edge -which you also appreciated- he was warm and charming. It was easy to connect with him, in a way it hadn’t often been for you. For him too - or so the boys told you - the way you surpassed his defences was a rare thing. It shouldn’t have worked, perhaps. Usually, he was slow to trust and you were quick to love, but on this occasion none of that seemed to apply, the two of you tumbling squarely into a fast-friendship; one deeper and more intense, perhaps, than its duration might suggest. Still, despite the boys’ inferences that you would quickly become an item, and Santi’s continual attempts to blur the lines between this and… something more, “friends” is what you have remained.

You had felt it immediately with him. Something different. You simply... flowed. You fit. It was immediately evident, even on that first night, in the way you orbited around one another, setting up an impromptu beer pong of all things. You moved together with a fluidity and a precision that seems almost tactical- as though you too had run countless manoeuvres in the field with him. You could read him and understand him as though you had drilled his habits and patterns and idiosyncrasies over and over; learning him. However, he was never that much effort - the two of you came naturally to each other, little learning required. You knew each other with your gut.

At that fateful party, when you each escaped to the back porch steps for some air at a serendipitous moment, the conversation had immediately flowed, and not only as a result of his natural, disarming charm. The silence even came easily rightaway – a comfortable thing, the space between you stuffed with contentment, rather than the feeling of a gaping vacuum, needlessly filled. It turned out his best friend was dating yours (the pair to be wed this very weekend) but that almost seemed like the cherry on top, rather than the thing bringing you to each other.

Safe to say, what was true then is true now. You get on so well. You find him fun and easy and generous and you love the man dearly.

…Most of the time.

Those other times, though? Santiago “Pope” Garcia can be a pain in your ass. But that’s another reason you love him, you guess. Keeps things interesting.

“Please don’t kill me,” Santi says sheepishly, and it’s obvious to you he’s laying on the charm - actively trying to be as disarming as possible as he saunters over from the reception desk. For a moment, despite all his training, he looks as though he believes you could pull it off, too.

Your annoyance is already prepped; locked and loaded, as he pads squarely towards the banquette where you are sat - amidst a sea of luggage. You’ve been observing his attempts to charm the desk clerk with interest (his efforts, you surmise, at least partially effectual), and judging from the slight level of desperation in his efforts, you can already tell he fucked up somehow.

“What did you do?” you say impatiently, even as a smile twitches at the corner of your lips.

“I booked all the rooms we needed, for all of the wedding guests, right? 13 rooms here, and all 10 at the hotel across town. 4 more in guesthouses,” he recaps. “Got Frankie and Mila a great deal too, remember?”

You remember. And yet, you fold your arms across your chest, looking up at him incredulously. Okay then. Rolling with your attitude, the man takes a different tack. He sits next to you. Smiles. Leans in. Pats your thigh. He’s trying to disarm you too, you realise. It’s going to take more than that - you’re not some flimsy desk clerk who will form a puddle and bat your eyes at the first sign of his charm.

“Well, funny story. I may have forgotten to book our rooms,” he blurts.

Oh? Oh, great. Yeah. This is a grand fuck-up. The whole damn town is booked-out. It’s a small town. No longer amused, your nostrils flare in annoyance as you tug in a slow breath, schooling your tone just a little before you speak. “You what?” Okay, you didn’t manage to school it all that much.

“Look, I already sort of fixed it,” he smooths. That explains the flirting with the clerk. Although, you think, glancing back at her. She’s pretty. That partially explains the flirting with the clerk, then, you mentally correct. “There’s just one, teeny-tiny issue.”

You raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes. Well?

“We’re gonna have to share a room.”

You blink at him a few times, in surprise. Well, it’s not ideal. For a number of reasons. But you can think of worse things, truth be told. And he’s not wrong. It is a solution. Still, on his reveal, a succession of emotions and micro-assessments are bounced back and forth between your eyes and his, until you land on resigned annoyance, exhaling a long sigh. That is, until Frankie appears in the lobby, swanning in like he’s walking on air. He probably is, given that he’s getting married this weekend. His face splits with a smile so wide you reckon it should be painful to maintain, and you stand to greet him as he heads over.

You’re glad he’s happy. It means that you and Santi, as Maid of Honour and Best man, respectively, are doing a fantastic job of deflecting all of the stress away from the happy couple. Indeed, that assessment certainly feels true – you do feel stressed. Still, the two of you immediately paint your faces with masking smiles; though, in fairness, it’s hard not to smile while looking at Frankie – his obvious joy is infectious.

Frankie wraps you both in a hug, then rubs his palms together like an excited kid. “I don’t have much time. Just gonna say a quick hello to my parents. Apparently, my mom’s already started crying? Can you two sort some extra tissues for the ceremony or something? Oh, and is everything okay with the rooms?”

“With this guy? Are you kidding?”, you say before you think, throwing your thumb towards Santi. Immediately, his eyes submit a powerful plea to you to keep schtum- it is written all over his face that he doesn’t want to let Frankie down. Not even in the smallest of ways.

Frankie would find his little error funny, probably. But he can find it funny after the ceremony. “Everything is A-OK! This guy? He has every single detail taken care of.”

Frankie grins, his eyes narrowing proudly at Santi as he slaps him on the back, laying profuse thanks on the two of you; then, he floats away again, as if on a cloud. Santi’s brown eyes are big with gratitude when you look at him again, and you can’t help but weaken. You’ll admit, it’s really not that bad of a fuck-up. Besides, you’re tired. Between the drive out here, the wedding rehearsal, and a never-ending list of errands, the day has been long. You just want to get to the room, and maybe even clock a snooze before the rehearsal dinner tonight.

“Fine,” you agree, albeit through gritted teeth. “We can share a damn room.”

Santi looks visibly relieved, and squeezes your shoulder in thanks. You’d even been nice enough not to bite his head off. “Yeah. We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend.” Suddenly, he doesn’t sound quite as certain.

“Sure. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?” you smile nervously.  

He returns your smile and swivels, heading back towards the desk.

“Oh, wait!” you call after him. “Is it a double or a twin?” you ask in horror. Sharing a room is one thing, but sharing a bed?

He turns, looking over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter!”, he winks. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna have to take it.”

Oh. Oh dear.

You’re inclined to agree -you don’t have many options- but when you catch yourself stealing a glance at the man’s shapely butt as he walks back to the desk, you begin to chew your bottom-lip nervously.

Right. Ha.

What could possibly go wrong?

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

It turns out, sharing a room with Santi is resoundingly not bad at all. In fact, at first, it’s as easy as everything else is with him - even between your hurried preparations for the evening, unpacking, shuttling items to the relevant members of the wedding party, and calling down to reception several times to check the logistics for the rehearsal dinner. Even getting dressed, you find an easy flow as you each flit in and out of the bathroom, dancing around each other with ease and only a hint of friendly bickering.

Santi’s respectful too- always knocking and announcing himself before entering a space, and averting his gaze when he needs to, given that you’re rushing around and undressing. You even manage to ignore the fact there’s only one bed for the longest time, parking that specific panic for later. Even then, he has already made reception send up extra pillows and blankets, forming a barricade in the middle of the bed so you two can comfortably separate.

Thankfully, you are so busy that the idea of sharing a bed with Santi doesn’t even cross your mind until you’re finally ready, dressed in your finery. When you step out of the bathroom, Santi -sat on the edge of said bed- stands up, thrusting his hands into his suit trousers as he takes the sight of you in, pulling the material taut -in a rather pleasing way- across his hips and thighs. He ends up slightly slack-jawed for a moment as his eyes trail over you, brewing with a gentle, self-conscious heat. “Fuck,” he says softly, his voice gruff. “You look…” a little gulp trails down his throat as you give him a little twirl. “…hot”, he says, his eyebrow ticking up on the last beat.

“Wait until you see my bridesmaid dress,” you smile, and he returns it easily, those gorgeous creases appearing around his eyes.

Unconsciously, you lick your lips. You can’t help but wonder, vaguely, what it would be like to push him down on to the mattress. Maybe straddle him. Fuck, you should have known this would be a bad idea. A heat rising in your face at that thought of that, you distract yourself by lifting his suit jacket from the back of the chair, holding it out for him as he slips it on to his shoulders, and feeling the luxurious texture of it beneath your fingers.

It’s a grey suit, tailored, and it hugs him in all the right places. The cool colour is perfect against his warm-toned brown skin, and brings out the salt in his salt-and-pepper curls, and in the rough rasp of grey flecked through his stubble.

You try desperately not to notice how good he looks, but this may be your greatest challenge yet.

“Come on,” you encourage, nodding towards the door. “We better head down.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, half-heartedly. The way his eyes are subtly roving over you, though, he looks like he has something entirely different in mind for dinner.

“You’re probably going to spend all night being chased by the single bridesmaids,” you add casually as you collect your purse, and apply a final dab of lipstick in front of the mirror. You’ve already clocked a few members of the wedding party eyeing him up, and you don’t exactly blame them for being thirsty. Besides, Santi is a huge flirt; so perhaps he’ll be the one doing the chasing. You wouldn’t be surprised if he ended the night with his tongue thrust deep in someone’s throat, which -you assume- is typical Santi fashion.

“Isn’t it traditional, anyway,” he smirks cheekily, applying a splash of cologne, “for the Best Man to hook-up with one of the bridesmaids?”

Lord, does he have to smell so… edible.

“Got news for you, man. You fucked up. You can’t exactly bring a girl back to your room now, can you?!” you tease, nodding back towards your shared bed, a wall of pillows already arranged down the middle. You mean it to come out in good-humour, but you can’t scrub the hint of jealousy from your tone entirely.

You feel so silly for being jealous of whomever he may hook-up with. After all, Santi is always the one testing the boundaries of friendship with you. It’s not like he’s ever made a secret of the fact he’s attracted to you- and you are the one here will a firm line in the sand. A line you simply won’t cross with him. Can’t cross. You want to - of course you do, but after being hurt in the past, you have simply built-up far too many defences; or, more accurately, just the right amount of defences, you think, to protect you. So, no matter how disarming the man is, you simply have to keep your guard up; because if he breached your walls, you know everything else would come tumbling so easily down.

You had fallen so easily into friendship with him, and you are certain that you would fall just as recklessly in love with him.

You’re not ready for that.

You can’t take being hurt again. Besides; Santi? He’s an incredible friend. He’s tenaciously loyal and dedicated to his squad. But when it comes to love, and sex, you doubt whether serious is even his thing - and you’re too afraid to ask.

“You ready to do this?” he asks, with a wink.

“Yep,” you nod. “Let’s roll,” and with that, you turn, heading for the hallway.

“Princesa- that dress really highlights your ass,” he praises as he tags along behind you.

“Thank you, it’s true,” you smile devilishly, already beginning to let your guard down, just a little. He’s simply so disarming. “Speaking of, Garcia – did you get your trousers a size too small on purpose?”

“Oh, you noticed?” he retorts, smugly, guiding you through the door with a hand on the small of your back.

Okay. Sometimes you flirt back. After all – look at him.

Especially in that damn suit.

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

The rehearsal dinner goes swell. Frankie and Mila are a picture-perfect, loved-up couple, and they grin their way through the evening as if they slept with coat hangers in their mouths. The speeches are well-received, including Will’s, thus setting a high bar for you and Santi tomorrow. (You may be biased, but Santi’s is ten times funnier, and it’s going to kill, in your opinion.) There are no dramas through the evening- logistical or familial, and thanks to you and Santi overseeing everything with a military precision, it looks as though -so far- it is shaping up to be the perfect wedding weekend.

Finally, once your duties are over for the night, you are able to let your hair down a little, so to speak, and enjoy the food and company on offer. Still, with a big day ahead tomorrow, things wind down relatively early, and -having lost track of Santi at some point- you find yourself back at the shared room a little while before him. You usually burn out more quickly than he does in social situations, but even taking that into consideration, you begin to fret about where he has gotten to. With the way he was flirting his way through the party, though, it doesn’t take a genius to guess what (or who) might be keeping him up.

You try to sleep but you can’t, your mind going to the worst places, so, by the time Santi does return -softly cracking the door, and padding in with his shoes in his hands so as not to wake you- you have stewed in your own thoughts long enough to have become a little cranky. A little… green-eyed.

“Hey,” he greets in surprise when he enters, immediately noticing the soft lamp glow, and seeing you still sitting up in the bed, mindlessly watching the flicker of the tv on mute.

“Hey,” you return, your voice noticeably strained. “Have a fun time?” You find yourself wishing you weren’t sharing a room, then you wouldn’t have to know what he got up to.

“Yeah,” he replies softly, slipping off his jacket and laying it over the back of a chair. “Did you? How come you’re still up? Thought for sure you’d be wiped out by now.”

So, he did think of you, then?

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply neutrally, fixing your eyes dead ahead as he begins to slip out of his trousers and shirt too, until he’s dressed in only his tight black boxers. Next, he takes off his watch and sets it at the bedside, and you notice that he smells of perfume. A cloying, floral scent that makes you feel a little sick.

“Just gonna have a quick shower and then I’ll slip in with you, okay?” he says, his voice slow and deep and muted, matching the soft light.

You still don’t look at him. You can’t.

“Do what you want. You usually do,” you bite, the words tasting bitter as soon as they have left your lips, and tears of regret pooling as your anger dissolves.

You don’t blame him if he was with someone – you really don’t. You’re simply angry at yourself; because you wish you could be that person, and you can’t for the life of you seem to find a way.

“Okay. What was that for?” he bristles, reacting defensively, turning towards you. And perhaps it’s because it’s late and he’s tired, or because certain demons feel safer coming out under the cover of darkness, but he doesn’t stop there. Especially when all he gets from you is a stony, pointed silence. “You know what? Actually, no. You don’t get to do this”, he hisses, and it is the first time you’ve ever heard him direct any genuine anger at you.

It doesn’t half sting.

“Do what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“You don’t get to be mad when I give my attention to someone who actually wants it,” his voice is hushed, but his words rattle through you as if he had yelled them. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Guess what, I’m not yours.”

“That’s not fair”, you snap back, and then things are quickly escalating.

“Isn’t it?” he asks, rasping a hand over his stubble in distress. “I mean, come on. Shit. You know that I want more but I…” he exhales a disgruntled laugh. “You shoot me down, which is your prerogative, honestly, but you can’t have it both ways. You can’t knock me back all the time and then be pissed off when I look elsewhere.”

You meet his face, the planes of it shadowed and angled harshly with anger, suddenly so unfamiliar to you, and it causes your eyes to bloom with tears. You two look the opposite of Frankie and Mila; of a picture-perfect couple. But you’re not even a couple at all, are you?

You see him try. To blunt the emotion which is bubbling up. To soften. But he has uncorked something he now can’t put back in. “Fuck, I just wish that….” he pinches his lips together and shakes his head, planting his hands on his hips and looking at the floor. “If you don’t want me, just put me out of my fucking misery. Just say it. Just fucking tell me.”

Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces at the thought you make him miserable. At the way his voice breaks. At the way he thinks you don’t want him. Maybe you were wrong, thinking that you could be friends at all. Thinking that could be enough for him.

Your lower lip trembles, and your fingers clutch the edge of the blanket. “I… I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you that I don’t want you, Santi.”

You can’t because it isn’t true. It could not be further from the truth, in fact.

He puffs out air, an exasperated sound, his hand raising up to tangle in his grizzled curls. Raising his voice a little more. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me the other thing either?”

“I.. I..” You try, but no words will come. You simply shake your head, swallowing a sob, your eyes almost brimming over.

He nods. He nods, his mouth slanted down. “Great. Got it,” he huffs.

You hate this. You hate how much you’re hurting him.

“Santi,” you breathe weakly, but it is too weak to blunt the force of his emotion. To halt his trajectory, and so, resigned, he turns towards the bathroom, grabbing-up a fresh white towel from the counter. Before he closes the door, he turns to you once more, now speaking softly, his eyes as sad as yours. “You know,” he says, his index finger sawing back-and-forth over the stubble at his chin. “For the record, I wasn’t with anyone else. I can’t even fucking think about anyone else but you. I was late back to the room because I couldn’t face it.” His voice becomes small and pained. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to just curl up next to you and act like I don’t care.” His eyebrow ticks up, and he adds, with a final flourish. “Guess I should have taken a lesson from you.”

Oh, how it stings, pain flowering in your chest like a bruise, but you hold yourself together until he’s out of sight. Then, when he’s gone, you immediately cave in on yourself, falling on to your side and screwing your eyes shut, clamping your hand over your mouth so that he can’t hear you crying as wet tears spill onto your pillow.

When he comes back into the room, after a long shower, you simply screw your eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. You hear him sigh heavily, and mumble something to himself under his breath, before dragging a few pillows and a spare blanket down on to the floor.

A few more silent tears roll over the bridge of your nose.

You guess you wouldn’t be sharing a bed with him after all.

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

You wake panicked in the night, sitting bolt upright in the bed. A cold wash of sweat over your skin chills you, even though you feel like you’re burning-up.

Immediately, you reach for him, for Santi, calling his name even as your fear strangles the sound in your throat. Your heart is thudding, and your breaths are sawing in and out of you, but your grasping hands find nothing to your side but pillows and blanket.

Unfortunately, you are used to this occurrence, and you quickly realise it was “only” a nightmare. Still, the feelings and images it conjured linger in your body, and around you in the shifting, seemingly fluid shadows of the room.

With a release of tension, you whimper, leaning forward and cradling your head in your trembling hands, and you try to ground yourself. To steady your breath and your heartbeat, like you’ve practiced. As you do so, the shadows to your left shift and change, and, even in the pitch-black you can feel him, a safe and warm presence, instantly travelling to your side, his weight dipping the mattress. His soothing, sandy voice filtering through the shadows and cutting back the tendrils of your nightmare like a Disney prince hacking through cursed vines.

You vaguely remember that he’s mad at you - but you can’t help it. Can’t help asking. “Hold me?” you plead, desperately afraid that he won’t.

Still, without questions or hesitation, you feel the wall of remaining pillows coming down, the defences around you quite literally being dismantled – a figurative wall between you shifting away along with it. He shushes you, and you focus on his voice, until he is close enough that the scent of him wraps around you, before his arms follow closely after.

You reach for him in return. You reach for him in every way possible.

“It’s just a nightmare,” he soothes. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you,” and there is pain in his voice on your behalf, as if he tries to bear the burden of it for you.

“Closer,” you plead, and before you know it, he is shifting you on to your side, slotting his sturdy yet soft body around you, not caring that you feel clammy and hot against his bare skin. He simply loops his arms and draws your back, closer to his chest, becoming your big spoon.  

He calms you, hands enveloping yours and bundling them against your chest, his nose nuzzling into your hair, and his deep steady breaths slowing your breathing as you let his calm and his rhythms overcome you. He holds you, until the feelings pass, not caring how long it takes – and with any anger from before apparently forgotten.

This pain is all too familiar to him, you know. It something that Santi understands. It is your own and it is not the same as his, true, but you know it is familiar enough that he will feel the ache of it echoing in his own chest. You know that he is accustomed enough to bearing his own pain, that when yours is too heavy to carry, he will help you hold it for a while. And so, he holds you, while you are a tender thing, bruised and afraid, and he keeps you safe; with all your walls down, all of your defences collapsed, he becomes your fortress.

You never thought that letting yourself be so vulnerable could allow you to feel quite as safe as this.

As you lie together, Santi continues to usher soft reassurances into your ear, his words like charms and incantations to ward off the ghosts which haunt you. And, after a series of slow, stretched moments, you become more settled, and Santi feels you relax against him.

After a few moments more, he eventually whispers a small question into your hair. In the dark, the question feels safe to come out, perhaps.

“Do you always call for me when you…?” he trails off, thinking better of it. “I’m sorry- forget it, you don’t have to answer that.”

You don’t. You know you don’t. You don’t even truthfully know the answer. It’s likely that you do call for him, though how would you know, when you’re usually alone? But, there is something else you can tell him, while it is safe to come out in the dark. Something you want to tell him, before you build your walls all the way back up.

“Santi,” you begin, timidly, and his fingers skim softly up and down your arms, encouraging you to go on. “I-I’ve been hurt before. And, I want to be with you. I want to let you in but… I’m. I’m not ready. I’m trying so hard but I… I can’t.”

There is a long beat, and you realise he has held in a breath only when he releases it all at once, fanning hot across the back of your neck.

You are afraid. Afraid of what he might say, in response – what he might feel, but you think, maybe, it might be something like relief? And, Santi squeezes you, just a little tighter. A little closer. “Don’t worry about that now, okay?” he soothes, his voice feather soft. “Just… know one thing, okay, Princesa? Whenever you are ready? I’m waiting.”

This time your heart fills with a different emotion, all the spaces in it flooded with contentment, Santi’s words followed by a perfect, happy silence.

A soft smile blooms on your face.

It was not a confession of waiting impatiently, you understand, but an invitation to take your time to arrive at him. He’s not trying to bring down your defences at all, is he? He’s waiting for you to open the door, and invite him in. He’s waiting until you are ready. He simply needed to know that you are on your way, even if your footsteps are getting you there slowly.

For now, though, the thought of it is too much. More than you’re ready for.

So, you simply let him hold you.

To disarm you further.

To walk yourself a little closer toward where you want to be. With him; by his side.

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

In the morning, you wake up tangled around each other, Santi’s arm wrapped securely around your back and your head settled on his chest. He is still snoring lightly – cutely - when you awake, and so, as the night prior comes flooding back to you, you hastily try to extricate yourself from him; even if his bare skin feels so good against yours that you never want to move. You’re apparently not so subtle- or he’s a helluva light-sleeper – as, just when you pull away, Santi wakes up, quickly rushing to prove his innocence.

“You had a nightmare,” he croaks, still trying to peel his eyes open. “You asked me to- “.

“-I know. I remember,” you reassure, sitting up in bed, the blankets tugged to your chest. Santi shuffles, opting to assume the same position on his own side, mirroring you, rubbing his eyes.

You’re still not sure whether to apologise to him or thank him. Or maybe even to wait for an apology from him? Christ. Maybe all of those things or none of them, who even knows? You mentally spin a wheel and land on a casual “Uh. Thank you, for…. You know.”

“Anytime,” he says, turning his head to the side and looking at you earnestly. As if your bickering -your jealousy and his outburst- is all but forgotten. What’s more, you know that he means it.

Admiringly, your eyes wander over him, enjoying a side of him you’ve never quite seen before. Apparently, he’s even more handsome in the morning, with an even thicker, darkened brush of stubble, his grizzled curls dishevelled, and his swooping eyelids still heavy from sleep. Combined, it gives him a sultry, bedroom look. Feeling an involuntary rush of heat in the pit of you, your gaze drops to his corded neck, where, given the special occasion, he has substituted his dog tags for a silver chain, drawing your gaze down over his smooth, brown chest.

Your skin now cooling in the conditioned air of the room, you long for his body heat again, recalling how it felt to be held by him and wishing you had lingered a little longer while you could. Even with your interrupted sleep last night, you have somehow woken feeling refreshed, as though you had slept unreasonably deeply in his arms, reaching a whole new level of contentment - as though you just fit together, perhaps. As though it comes naturally for you to be held by him, and for him to hold you.

There is a silence and it isn’t awkward exactly; more… pregnant, with possibilities. Possibilities you see brewing with a gentle heat in his eyes. So, tearing yourself abruptly away from that line of thought, you lift your phone up from the nightstand, and note that there isn’t long before your alarms sound anyway.

Operation Wedding Day is go.

That should be enough of a distraction for you, shouldn’t it?

“You ready for this, Best Man?” you ask him, with a gentle quirk of your lips.

“Sure. Are you ready, Maid of Honour?”

Ready. Are you ready?

Thoughts of last night swirl in your head.

Well – as Santi flashes you a tentative, disarming smile, with hooded eyes, you certainly feel like you’re getting there. Like soon you could be ready.

“Sure. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Atta girl,” he encourages, folding his arms behind his head as you jump out of bed.

You suddenly don’t care that you’re in nothing but your underwear, as you stretch out your body and track towards the bathroom. “I’ll shower first?”

“We’re sharing a bed,” he teases. “Sure you don’t want to share a shower too?”

You scoff, flashing a mischievous smile right back at him. You’ve always had a soft spot for his flirting, but you feel like -after all that transpired last night- you truly see if for what it is now. You realise why it has never felt like he’s pressuring you - not once. He’s simply reminding you, that as soon as you call for him, he’ll be there. That he’s waiting, when you’re ready.

Reminding you, that as soon as your walls drop, he’ll be your fortress.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get quite that lucky this morning, Garcia.”

You do linger in the doorway, just a little longer than necessary though, so that he can get a better look at you. He’d never look without permission – he proved that yesterday, when you were in various states of disarray- but this time, sensing your invitation, his eyes graze over you slowly, keenly. So, when he strategically moves his hands from behind his head to hide the tenting covers, you don’t mind at all.

You smile devilishly as you slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You’re not sure if he will… take care of himself out in the room – how could you know? But, feeling inspired, you certainly do so in the shower, and it’s a pretty great wake-up call before you face the wedding day.

Maybe sharing a room isn’t so bad. Maybe you could even get used to it.

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

Frankie and Mila get hitched without a hitch.

Santi goes to the ends of the earth to make sure that Frankie has the best day possible- and at some points, he goes even further than that. His speech was moving and flawless, and pretty fucking funny; even if you are a little (or a lot) biased. Not a dry eye in the house, just as you predicted.

The man adores Frankie with his whole heart, and you could barely hold back the glow of admiration as you listened to him, feeling like it might burst from your chest like a beam of gold sunlight. You felt it especially strongly every time his eyes met yours during the course of the speech, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself stupid each time he did so. And, of course, you were overjoyed to see your best friend have the day of her dreams, with the man of her dreams. If you do say so yourself, you think your speech was pretty killer too.

Suffice to say, you ate until your belly was full, loved until your heart hurt, laughed until your sides ached, and danced until your feet ached.

Tonight, unlike last night, you and Santi retire to your shared room at the same time, your arm linked into his, and your shoes carried in your hand to spare your sore feet – there’s a reason you never normally wear shoes like this. Without your heels though, you keep tripping over the hem of your dress almost every few paces, causing you to giggle and Santi to steady you with a warm, rich chuckle, sometimes throwing you an extra hand to assist you.  

You look over at him, furtively, as he recounts some of the more choice moments from the day, immensely enjoying the simple pleasure of hearing him talk and smile and laugh. Seeing him happy. Of course, enjoying how he looks too, you have to admit - even more handsome than he did yesterday (somehow) in midnight blue dress pants, and a white, crisp shirt, now tieless. He’s only grown sexier as the evening drew on too, now with a wide open-collar and rolled up sleeves to accommodate all of the dancing; or, at least, as much dancing as his knees could handle, until he’d simply opted to sit to the side and watch you boogie, his eyes apparently transfixed on you and only you - the advances of the other bridesmaids be damned.

There is something that hits different about the way he looked at you today. His admiration shining deeper than usual. Less like a casual lust, and more like something… serious. You’re not sure why you doubted it before, exactly. Why you have been so inordinately afraid that he might hurt you. You broadly figured him for a smash and dash type of man, which is fine, but you have every reason to believe that he wants more with you.

After all, Santi can be deeply and tenaciously loyal. He has dedicated himself to things deeply and unwaveringly several times over in his life. To his country, to his missions, to his morals, to his squad. And there’s something about the way he looked at you today, you think, that suggests he might dedicate himself to you with the same tenacity. Something far deeper than appreciating how you look in this bridesmaid dress (and oh boy do you look hot). It’s more like the way he looks at Frankie. A little different to that, obviously. But you’re realising he looks at you like he’d never let you down. Not even in the smallest of ways. Like he’d rather go to the ends of the earth -or beyond- than do that.

At least… you think so.

You are sure about one thing though. The way he looks at you? It’s thoroughly disarming.

And so, you arrive at your shared room, utterly wiped out from the day (and night), yet still somehow buzzing with an energy. A gentle suffusing heat under your skin as you watch Santi walk inside and kick off his shoes at the end of the bed, before turning back towards you.

You have entered a few paces behind him, after nearly tripping on your gown all over again by the door, but now, you are quite steady on your feet - aside from that slight, nervous tremble in your quaking legs as he looks at you like that. As Santi looks you up and down, eyes skimming over the contours of your dress and hence everywhere it hugs your figure. Evidently, he likes what he sees.

“Wow,” he breathes, his brown eyes shining as if he’s looking at you for the first time that day, even if his gaze has barely left you all night. “I know it’s the bride’s day, but you look fuckin’ smokin’, sweetie.”

“You think so?” you ask humbly, suddenly feeling unreasonably shy. Flustered even.

“Yeah. I think so,” he nods, positively certain. “Shit, you’re so beautiful.”

You look at him. You look at him in a way which suggests an answer in your eyes instead of a question. A clear intention in your body, instead of uncertainty. But he doesn’t push you. He doesn’t assume. He doesn’t make a move. Instead, his mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile, offering you a lazy flash of teeth, and he shoves his thumbs into his belt loops.

“Well, we’re officially off the clock now, so I’m calling it. Well done, Maid of Honour. Think we nailed it? Made a pretty damn good team?”

A smile lights your face. You did. You flowed. You fit. It was easy.

Fuck. It feels so easy. Why had you ever thought this would be hard?

You nibble on your lip, eyeing him with intention, and a hard swallow trails down his throat in response.

“Off the clock, hmm?” you say breathily. “No more titles or duties? Huh. That’s a real shame.”

“How so?” he asks, his eyes devouring you alive, but his body fixed resolutely in place. Transfixed to the spot.

“Because it’s traditional for the Best Man to get with one of the bridesmaids, isn’t it?”

A slow, disbelieving smile inches over his face, and he looks at his feet, a little bashful. “Gross tradition. Kinda sexist,” he says, and your gaze fixates on his full, curving lips. On his hands, poised and broad at his belt.

“So, you don’t want to make out then?” you ask in your most sultry voice, mere breath.

The man huffs out a quick, broken exhale. “Fuck me. You know I do, sweetie. But only if you’re ready.”

Ready. Are you ready?

“Santiago,” you say, with conviction, your eyes dancing between his. “I’m ready.”

Santi searches your face one last time, just to be certain. He’s sure, of course – has been for a long time, but he needs to know that you truly want this. That you want this now. So, he looks at you, and he finds nothing but permission. Even so, after so long, he still can’t quite believe it. He would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe – or beyond – and, so dammit, he will ask you again.

“C-can I..” he begins, and his voice already sounds choked; hollowed out with need. “Fuck, Princesa, can I kiss you?”

Too long. Too long without moving. Without touching. Too long.

If you were suddenly ready, his kiss becomes even more suddenly overdue.

“You’d better,” you encourage, feeling like vapour. “Unless you want me to do it first.”

With permission granted, you expect him to be on you, with a surge. All at once. But Santi has been patiently waiting for you long enough. He can wait just a little longer, and, when he subtly tips his chin up, ever so slightly, and when he near growls “come here then, honey,” somehow, it is perfect. Somehow, it is a thousand times hotter that he makes you come to him.

You lift the hem of your dress, and you pad delicately towards him, feeling like you are wading through molten honey to get to him, the air thick and sweet.

“That’s it. Come here, baby,” he encourages, with a curl of his index finger beckoning you to him, his voice curling in the pit of you, making you feel weak in the best way possible. Making you feel spent before he’s even done so much as brush you with his hand or his lips.  

You close the remaining distance with your steps, the anticipation too much, and your legs feeling so weak from the reckless lust and the light, liquid softness in his eyes. By this point, you are begging for his arms to reach out and clasp you- to hold you up; make you secure and safe in him. You are begging for his lips to sink down on to yours. But he makes you wait, through a few more slow, stretched moments. Makes you inch your mouth closer and closer until your lips are almost skimming his. He makes you wait until you are moaning his name into the air before he has even touched you.

“Santi.”

And, if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that when you call for him, he is always there to take care of you.

You know he will take care of you.  

With that, his name a plea, he swoops his broad, large hand up until he is holding you, his fingers closing around your jaw and your throat, trailing down your neck. His touch is painfully gentle, but in a way that makes you want him to squeeze, a little harder. In a way that makes you push yourself ever so subtly into his hand. A way that draws a silken moan from deep in your chest, and Santi is moved to dip the pad of his thumb into your mouth, where it meets your wet and willing warmth. When your tongue skims him, humming as you taste his saltiness, that seems to be the final straw, a wrecked groan sounding from his throat, and finally he surges on to your lips, leading with his tongue, thrusting into your open mouth and drinking down every sound and moan he can draw from you, his stubble rough against you. You don’t care if he leaves you raw.

It’s tender, and it’s gentle, but Santi knows all about control, and you can tell he’s holding back. His hands are lethal, and he knows just how to kill you softly; but, you are certain, that if you want more of his power, he’ll give it to you. That he’ll take care of you however you like.

So, he kisses you more deeply, harder, and you go near limp against him until one of his arms wraps at the back of your head and one at the small of your back, making you feel a feeble thing, waning in his arms as his large hands support you. Except; you’re not feeble though. You’re not by a long shot, and you know exactly what you want.

“Santi,” you suspire, letting him walk you back against the wall, pressing his bulging arousal into you as more wrangled sounds and little grunts slip from his parted lips.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, already sounding wrecked for you.

“There’s only one shower. Wanna share?!”

Even as he releases an endlessly eager, disbelieving breath, his eyes keenly search your face, checking you are ready. He watches, enraptured, as your lips curl into a deliciously sinful smile.

“You know. We don’t have to rush this,” he insists, even as he shivers with need, closing his eyes and biting his lip when you angle your hips to brush the tenting bulge at his crotch, ever so fleetingly, his hips bucking into you immediately in pursuit of more pressure.

“I know,” you say coolly, your body an undercurrent of frenzy, but your mind calm and sure. You push him back, with your palms to his chest, making room for you to about-turn into the bathroom, shimmying off your dress as you go and letting it waft to the floor like a sigh. Looking at him over your shoulder, with lust-blown eyes, you leave Santi stood there, entirely dumbfounded, as you reveal all of yourself to him.

You retreat, but once the water is running you call out to him, wondering where he has got to. “Take a hint, Garcia. If you’re ready? I’m waiting.”

And, he doesn’t waste another second before joining you.

THE END

(BONUS: Outfit inspo, if you wanna imagine him in the suits a lil better 😉)

[supraveng]

Marvelous Friends part 1

Summary:  You join your best friend at a party, and meet the man of your dreams?

Characters: Reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x Sophie Hunter, RDJ x Susan Downey, Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans

Warnings: cursing, reader in over her head, bad writing...

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Aaron, you are supposed to be preventing these things, not causing them“ you scream into your cell phone so agitated by this whole thing that you aren’t even aware that there are people watching you from the window.

You stepped outside trying to not cause a scene or god forbid have Sophie’s kids hear you and repeat anything you might say.  You finally hang up and throw your phone across the lawn as Benedict comes out the door to check on you. 

“Everything ok dear?” he approaches you with a smirk knowing full well that you are irritated beyond rational conversation.  “Can I get you anything?” he asks.  Turning to face him now that you’ve taken a few deep breaths, 

“I think I need a new manager, got any good ones lying around?” you reply.  

“Holy Shit!  That was your manager!  I just thought your husband  was in the doghouse!  Hi, I’m Robert” he sticks out his hand and you shake it, thankfully you are still too riled up to get star struck and make a fool of yourself.  

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t intend to be that loud, but that man is an absolute jackass!  I’m Y/N” you respond as you blow out some air and try to calm down.   

“Y/N darling, you need a drink, let me make you a martini” 

“No, Benny, I’m your babysitter tonight and you know one martini turns into 5” you smirk as you follow  the two of them back into the house.  

Sophie is coming down the stairs and her smile disappears when she sees your red face and Benedict heading toward the kitchen. “Y/N, what happened?  Are you ok?” she asks, her voice thick with worry.  

“Oh Phie, I’m fine, Aaron is just trying my patience and I couldn’t stay quiet” you smile as she wraps you in a hug, then busts out laughing.  

“Well, that’s a long time coming, I’m not sure how you have worked with him this long without bloodshed” she quips as Benedict hands you a cup of tea.  

“I’m not that bad to work with, I just don’t like my personal life to be used without my permission. Ugh, I just don’t have the energy for him today, I wanted to come and have fun with Kit, Hal & Finn” you whine as you sip your tea “but apparently the drama pays off because this is the best cup of tea Benny has ever made for me, thank you” you reach up and peck his cheek “I’m feeling better already.” 

“Good, because the boys have a list of fun for you tonight and they are extremely excited.” Sophie responds “Oh, and this is Susan, Robert’s wife”  

“It’s nice to meet you, now you all go on and have a lovely dinner and don’t worry about us” you smile to the couples as you head upstairs to check on the kids. 

Three hours later the two couples walk back into the house to find you frantically typing on your laptop at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, with a cold cup of tea next to you.  You jump when you hear someone clear their throat, not realizing they had come in and were all staring at you.  

“What? Why are you all staring at me?” you ask.  

Sophie shakes her head and giggles at you “we asked if you wanted to join us for a drink, apparently you are very focused on your work and didn’t even hear us come in.”   

“Sorry, I was planning my wedding” you reply with a smirk “Kit proposed again, actually, I’m not sure this was a proposal, it was more or less a list of reasons why my previous decline is not being accepted.  Apparently, age is just a number and I can move to England right away, so the wedding is next week” you explain as you follow the others over to the bar.   

Benedict turned around with a guilty look on his face, “what did you do?” his wife asks with a pointed glare.   “I was reassuring our son that if he liked someone and made his intentions known then any girl would be lucky to have him, but in my defense, I thought he was talking about that little girl down the street, Madison.   They were playing yesterday and he seemed smitten, so when he mentioned his love living in the US and not in England…..I was trying to help” he huffed out as he started pouring the drinks.   

You all start laughing and realize that since it’s Benedict’s fault, he will have to break it to Kit that you will not be marrying him next week.  “Why do I have to be the bad guy here?  It was an accident!” Ben protests “and why didn’t you just tell him you have a boyfriend already and can’t marry him?”  

“Because I would never lie to Kit” you respond, sipping your martini.   “I haven't really met anyone since I moved back from Vancouver, a few dates here or there but no one to write home about" you say with a shrug  “Well, in that case, can I give you away at the wedding?”  Robert asks and thankfully lightens the mood.  It was another two hours of drinking and laughing with your oldest and newest friends before you all decide to call it a night.   

“Y/N, Robert and I are having friends over to our place on Sunday, we would love for you to be there” Susan states as they are heading toward the door.  “That’s so sweet, thank you, I’ll just tag along as an extra Cumberbatch” you tell her as you hug her goodbye. 

You wake the next morning and know that you have a ton of work to do and 0 motivation.   Deciding to distract yourself as best you can, you text Sophie about the party at Susan & Robert’s.

So what kind of party is this thing tomorrow?

Phie: They usually have 30 or so people, tons of food, drinks, but very laid back.  I think you will like it 

That’s reassuring, the last thing I need is to make a fool out of myself in front of Ben’s celebrity friends

Phie: Oh, there will definitely be celebs there, but honestly I have no idea who, most likely a bunch of the Marvel crew, those who are in town anyway….but don’t stress, they are all  mostly normal people, lol

Well, I’m going to work on some writing and then maybe try to find something nice to wear to the party, I might make a fool of myself, but I need to look like I have my act together

Phie: Send me pics, I’ll help you decide….btw Ben has been questioning me on your dating habits, I have a funny feeling that he might try to set you up...

Well, that sounds dreadful,  I love your husband but what is his track record for match making?

Phie: I don't think he's actually ever tried to set anyone up before

Fantastic, I'm the guinea pig 🙄

 Ok, what do you think of these, I don’t want to be overdressed or look like I’m homeless

Phie: I love them both, but how about you were the short one & I borrow the blue one?  

That is a great idea!  I’ll be there a bit early so we can get ready together.  Who is staying home with the boys?

Phie: Actually, day time parties with the Downey’s usually includes the kids, so they will be joining us

Time for the party came earlier than you had anticipated as you pulled up to Phie’s house, Kit came running out the door with a big smile on his face.  Crouching down you scooped him into a hug and kissed his cheek.  

“Well aren’t you in a good mood today, handsome?” asking as you set him back down.  He grabbed your hand and began dragging you back to the house. 

 “Mum told me we can’t get married next week, but I can still love you for the rest of my life, isn’t that great!” he exclaimed as you walked in the front door.  

“That is the best thing I’ve heard all week!  And I get to love you for the rest of my life too” you reply watching the realization hit him and his smile get even bigger and run off to tell everyone the good news.  Before you could do anything, you went back out to your car and grabbed your bags and then headed up to Phie’s bedroom to get ready.  

“There you are, I was beginning to worry” she said as she pecked your cheek and gave you a hug, then handed you a glass.  

“Did you start day drinking without me?” you inquire as you sip on the merlot with a smile on your face.  

“I just opened the bottle for us to enjoy while we get ready.  I spoke with Kit and the wedding is off but he understands and all is well.  Benedict tried and, just made everything messier” she responded while pulling the blue dress from the garment bag.  

“You did a fantastic job, he gave me the biggest hug and seems very happy that we will not be getting married” you giggle as you move around her room figuring out the best place to put your things.  

“I think he’ll be more upset about you taking off next week than anything, that’s why I’m not planning on telling him until after you’ve gone.  He has grown really attached to you” she smirks as she’s slipping the dress on.  

Before you realize it, the wine bottle is empty and Ben is knocking on the door.

“You two look amazing as always, but the car is here, so we need to head out.  Can you bring Kit down with you while I go down and get Hal & Finn seated in the car?” he asks as Kit comes in and gasps looking up at his mom.   

“Mum, you look like a princess” he hugs her legs and looks up at her lovingly. 

 “Thank you love, you look very handsome.  Are you ready to go? Do you have your bag?” she asks while rubbing his back.  

“Oh, I need to get that, and can I give Y/N her present now?”  You look over a bit confused 

“oh Kit, you didn’t have to get me a gift” you tell him as he gives you a hug.   

“But it’s important to show the people you love how special they are, I’ll be right back” he states as he heads back downstairs.  You look at Sophie confused and she just smirks at you as both follow him down to the kitchen.   He holds up a cupcake with a huge grin on his face.  

“This is for you, because you are as sweet as a cupcake.  And that’s a ring you can wear to remind you that you are wonderful when I’m not here to tell you.” 

 You feel like you are about to cry, it was by far the most sincere and thoughtful thing you have ever heard.  “Thank you!  I love it & I love you!” you told him as you kissed his forehead and put the ring on.  

“Alright, let’s get going Kit, dad and your brothers are in the car waiting for us!” Sophie grabbed his hand and laced your arm with hers as she ushered you all out the door. 

Stepping out of the car at the Downey’s house you started walking towards the door when Kit came up and grabbed your hand.  

“Can I be your date tonight?” he asked with a shy grin.  

“Absolutely!  There’s no one else I would want to accompany me tonight.”  

Ben turns to you, holding Hal & Finn “remember Kit, the kids are going to be playing upstairs, but you can join us when you get hungry, alright?”  

“Yes, dad, but Y/N is still my girl” he stated proudly as you walked through the door.  

“That’s right Ben, I’m Kit’s girl!” you lean down and kiss the top of his head just before he heads up the stairs with his dad.  Sophie grabbed your arm and the two of you headed further into the house.  

Robert spotted you almost immediately and came over hugging you both “where is the fiance? Are all the details in place for the ceremony?  I’m still walking you down the aisle right?”  

“Hi Robert, I’m sorry but the ceremony has been cancelled.   Sophie was able to talk some sense into Kit since Benny was useless” you reply.  

“I heard that!” Ben remarks as he’s coming into the room.   “And in my defense, I’m not useless, just not very good at telling my son no.”  

“It’s alright dahling, you tried your best.” Sophie tried to console Benedict who seemed to take your statement to heart.  

“Well, I’m glad you made it, can I get you a drink?” Susan asked as an attempt to move on to a more neutral conversation.   

“Yes, please” you replied happily as you followed her to the bar.  

“Y/N? Y/N L/N?  Holy Shit!”  You heard from the doorway to the next room, where most of the party goers had already gathered.  You turned and was shocked 

“Seb?  Holy Shit!  How are you?” you asked as you moved over to hug him.  “It’s been so long, I’m surprised you recognized me.”  

“I’m good” he responded “and yea, it’s been like...10 years? And you look great, haven’t aged a bit!”  

You laughed at his response “that is an absolute lie, but I will take the compliment anyway.” you giggle at him.  He was always such a nice guy to work with and genuinely considerate to everyone on set.  His charming personality always made you smile. 

“This is so great running into you, I saw your interview on Good Day LA last week.  You are doing so great!” he said with a huge smile.  

“Oh thanks, but I think that may have been the worst interview in the history of television.   I was honestly hoping no one saw it” you cringed rethinking how quickly the questions had gone off the rails.  You are a writer, becoming more well known over the past decade so interviews were becoming more common for you, but that one felt more like a Twilight Zone episode.  

“Well, it was a bit crazy, but you handled a lot better than most people would.  I was impressed” he grinned as he took a sip of his beer.  

“Thanks, I appreciate that, and my whole deer in headlights reaction.” you commented as you took the drink Susan offered.  

“Hey, I didn’t know you knew each other?” you heard Robert say as he came up from behind you “and what happened in the interview?”  

“Yea, I was writing for Gossip Girl, back when Seb was on and he was constantly teasing me for being cold” you reminded him with a smirk.  

“New York in fall is beautiful, not cold! You are crazy!” he responds as he starts laughing at me.  

“And the interview was a shit show that I barely made it out alive” you state with a roll of your eyes.  

“That’s not true, you put that woman in her place and didn’t seem fazed by her ridiculous questions at all” he told me.  

“What the hell happened?” Robert seemed more interested than I thought he would 

“we were talking about my new book and the book tour coming up, then all of a sudden she’s asking me about my ex” I responded as I shrugged my shoulders.  Sebastian looked at me “then, the woman asks if she’s seeing anyone now, and your response was priceless, I might steal it if you don’t mind”  he states as he’s laughing remembering the interview.  

“Y/N, dear, what did you say?” Robert asks with a smirk.  

“I asked her ‘why? Are you shooting your shot?” as you start laughing too, realizing that you probably couldn’t have planned it if you tried.  At this point you realize there are more of the Marvel friends standing around listening to your conversation and you don’t even care.   

Your first drink is kicking in and it’s not like you are ever going to see these people again. “Honestly, I don’t know why she even mentioned my ex, nobody cares who I’m dating, I’m a writer”  

“Yes, but when us writers date high profile celebrities, people want to know” Sophie reminds you as she puts her arm around you.  

“Oh Phie, high profile is a bit of a stretch doncha think? But you are always my voice of reason, this is why I love you!” you say as you kiss her cheek.  Looking around the room you wonder if there’s anyone else here you know, when you see Chris Evans on the other side of the room.  

Benedict immediately follows your line of sight and smirks before taking your empty glass.  “I think you need a refill, here allow me, why don't you and Sophie go find a place to chat.”  

His wife shakes her head and gives you a small sympathetic smile before sending him back for refills.  Sophie drags you further into the room and finds a spot to sit that gives you a better view of Mr. Evans.  

“I didn’t realize you knew Sebastian” she said as she sat.  

“Yea, we worked together when I was living in NY, that was 10 or 12 years ago.  I didn’t know you knew him” you respond.  She looks at you questioningly, then shakes her head.  

“All the Marvel people know each other, you still haven’t watched the movies, have you?”  

“Um, I haven’t seen all of them, there are a lot, but I did watch Doctor Weirdo, and Benny was very good!” you respond quite proud of yourself.  

“Bloody hell!  It’s Doctor Strange, we’ve had this discussion before” Ben states as he hands you your fresh drink.  

“Ok, I’m sorry.  Doctor Strange, although I don’t think that’s much better than Doctor Weirdo.  And in my defense, your facial hair in the movie gave me nightmares'' you say as you sip on your drink. 

“Anyway, did the ex contact you after the interview?  I’m just curious?” Ben asks, rolling his eyes at you.  

You scrunch up your nose at the question “no, why would he? I haven’t spoken to him in the last four years. And honestly I'm sure he deleted my number.  Can we talk about anyone else?"  

"Yes, what's the schedule on the book tour? How long will you be gone?" Sophie acts trying to defuse the irritation in your voice with the mention of your ex.  

You can tell by the way she's glancing at her husband that she's trying to figure out why he brought up your ex knowing full well that if he had contacted you, she would have been the first one to know about it.. 

"Oh I'm flying out next Sunday, heading for NYC, then I'll be in Boston for 2 days, then a day In Philly, a day in Baltimore and I'm not 100% of the cities after that, other than ending up the following week in Miami so I can be with the family for spring break" you mention to them. 

"Did I hear you say you are only going to Boston for 2 days, that's not nearly long enough" you hear a deep voice state as you look up and see Chris Evan's standing next to Seb and walking closer to you.  

Holding out his hand "I'm Chris, I don't think we've met" he states.  

You plaster the most sincere smile you can on your face in hopes of not drooling at the sight of him, shaking his hand "I'm Y/N, and yes, this tour is only 2 days in Boston, but I lived there for 5 years so I’ve seen quite a bit already” you respond.

“Huh?  For someone who’s cold all the time, you seem to wind up in colder climates” Seb laughs at you.  “Shut up! You are the worst!” you respond with a laugh.  

“It’s true though, darling.  And you always call me to complain about it!” Sophie responds with a smirk.  

“OK, in my defense, Boston was a needed escape from my family, whom I love dearly but can be quite suffocating at times.  Then Chicago was my first real job after graduation and I couldn’t pass that up!  And as my best friend, Phie, you are required to listen to all my complaining, regardless of the topic” you state matter of factly.  

“And last year in Vancouver, that was the worst yet, she would send me photos of eyelashes with ice crystals on them” Sophie laughs remembering your first winter in Canada and how miserable you were.  

“That was awful and you and Benny both ridiculed me, I’m still emotionally scared”  

“So, you don’t like the cold but keep torturing yourself?” Chris asks with a smirk.  

“It appears I do, but it’s always for good reason. Chicago was an opportunity I couldn’t resist, if I had taken that job, I probably wouldn't have published my first novel” you explain with fondness.  

“That’s not true, Y/N.  Your first novel was incredible and it would have been published eventually”  Ben states as he takes your empty glass.  

“Benedict has read my book?” you asked Sophie completely shocked.  

“He has read all of your novels, but I think the first 3 was trying to find juicy gossip on how we met or something to try and blackmail you later, I’m not quite sure” she responds with a shrug.   

“Hold on” Seb interjects “your book, Searching for more, is about Sophie?” 

“Yes, and no” you respond “the adventure that Annabell has is loosely based on my summer after high school before moving to Boston.  And her new found friend, Fiona, is Sophie to a T!  And I’m also shocked that you’ve read it” you eyed him suspiciously.  

“Ok, so you really married a French man when you were 18 and brought him back with you?”  Seb asks, completely disregarding that you questioned him about reading the book.  How did your day turn out like this?  This was the most surreal moment you have had in a long time.  

“No, he wasn’t French, he was Belgian!” Benedict responds as he comes back in with refills.  You start laughing when you see the way Chris and Seb are staring at you wide eyed.   

“Oh my gosh!  No, I didn’t get married when I was 18.  And Benny, you weren't there, you don’t know anything” shaking your head.  “Annabelle’s story is loosely based on events that occurred, we didn’t get married…..and he was Swiss, I think.” you snicker when you look over at Sophie for confirmation, she shrugs and takes a drink.    

The five of you continue to chat for another hour or so when you feel a tap on your shoulder.  You turn to see Kit smiling at you with a cup in his hand “I missed you” he states as he climbs up into your lap and hugs you around your neck.  

“I missed you too little man, do anything fun while you were upstairs?” you asked as he made himself more comfortable.  

“I didn’t know you had a kid” Seb says as you are trying to balance the 5 year old in your lap with your drink in your hand.  

Kit looks up at him “she’s not my mum, she’s my girl!  That’s my mum” he states as he points to Sophie.  

“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Seb, this is my friend Chris.  What’s your name?”  he asks while Kit plops himself in the middle of the group as though he should have been there all along.  

“I’m Kit” he states as he extends his hand to both Chris and Sebastian.  

“So, she’s your girl, huh?” Chris asks with a smirk “is it serious?”  

“Very!  He gave me a ring today, see.” showing Chris your right hand and the Wonder Woman ring. 

“Wait a minute, the wedding is cancelled, but you still gave her a ring? I’m not sure that’s how it works buddy”  Robert kneels down talking to Kit.  

“it’s ok, I get to love her forever and we can get married when I’m 30!” Kit explains as he rushes off to join the other kids.  

You all turn and look at Sophie “I thought you fixed it Phie!  You’ve just given him a deadline!" you gasp. 

She smiles at you with a guilty look on her face "I think you might need to grab a bite to eat before you have another drink. And honestly, I'm sure he will forget all about this in a few months. Besides, I won't let my 30 year old son marry some 60 something year old hag that's after him for his money!" she states as seriously as possible. 

You deadpan "thanks for that. I need a new best friend" you roll your eyes and head towards the food. 

"Well, I didn't see that coming" Robert chuckles as he watches the two of you walk out of the room. 

"That actually went better than I expected" Ben responds and shakes his head, "those two are worse than siblings." 

A/N: I had an idea of who the ex is, but I may just leave it open for interpretation, he does come into the story later, but can remain faceless

[formulanaughty]

you should do the toto seb overstim stuff as a continuation of the seb x merc driver because ᵘʰʰ toto said something mysterious and then left ... like bro... join ? perhaps they bicker about aftercare because seb actually has feelings and toto just thinks he knows what’s best (and like tiny feelings but it’s probably the fact that he’s the boss and is in control of everything)

(ok i realized when i re-read my first little teammates blurb that i made it seem like at the end that they aren't? teammates, but let's just pretend that never happened. seb and reader both drive for mercedes under toto as TP!)

sv/reader/tw - not proofread so my apologies for inconsistencies/issues. i don’t care that much. it’s 3.5ish k of smut (and some plot). i think i like it? idk. threesomes are hard.

warnings: threesome, toto is bossy (almost to a fault), i didn’t put enough seb in (i’m Sorry), overstim, orgasm control (?), spitting, crying during sex, sub drop (if you squint - i tried not to make it too heavy), there’s aftercare!! (lmk if i’ve missed anything!)

It had been two weeks since Toto walked in on you and Seb.

Two weeks of brilliant driving, of front row lockouts, of champagne-soaked Sundays.

Two weeks of denial.

You had played every card you had with both men, tempting them to break and give in. You'd met Seb in his driver’s room after a spectacular qualifying session that he had just barely beaten you in, stripped down to your sports bra with your underwear pushed aside as you laid back on his couch, two fingers sliding in and out of your cunt. He had taken one glance at you and laughed, bending down to pick up your sweaty fireproofs and race suit before tossing them in your direction.

“Get out,” he commanded, and you were too stunned to fight him. Your rage grew with each passing moment as he watched you fumble to put on the wet fabric.

“Fuck you,” you spat, the words venemous as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

When you entered your own room, just down the hall from his, you couldn’t get your hand back in your pants quickly enough, the shame of his offhand dismissal burning you from the inside out. The orgasm that ripped through you was vicious and you came with a shout, the sound easily disguiseable as one of rage. It wasn’t enough - not even close - to quell the need that built within you.

Toto had joined your private flight from one track to the next and you ended up in his lap as soon as the “fasten seatbelts” sign shut off.

He had grinned, looking down at you with amusement. “What is this?”

“You’re smarter than that Toto, you know what this is.” To prove your point you rocked your hips, sliding your covered core over his thigh.

He waved the stewardess away wordlessly when she approached with bottled drinks and made no move to touch you. “What this is,” he said, voice already stern, “is you beginning to directly disobey one of my orders.”

“Who says I haven’t already disobeyed your orders?”

He leveled you with one of his signature looks of disapproval, eyebrow raised and frown lines prominent.

You climbed off of him, arousal giving way to anger.

“Fuck your rules! Do you realize how stressful it is? Why do you think Seb and I ended up fucking in the first place? We need something to let off some of the pressure of being a fucking Mercedes driver!”

“You think being with him will last?”

“It’s not about being with him. It’s about relieving some of the stress that you put us under!”

He gestured wide with his arms, laughter almost mean. “You’re welcome to leave, sweetheart, but we both know you won’t. Sebastian was offered the same thing when the pressure first got to him and he stayed - has stayed - every time. You don’t want to lose Seb, the team — me. So you’ll put up with it. You may even find yourself enjoying it. Just another week, and then we’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Oh, so you and him have some fucked up agreement? Is that why he’s been getting preferential treatment on the track? So I’ll be even more wound up when you both corner me in my hotel room? Is that the whole point of your ‘orders’, Toto?”

He sat up straighter, his shoulders rolling back as he moved to make himself larger. Even seated in the plane seat, he still seemed to tower, larger than life. “He does not get preferential treatment - on track or off - for any reason and you know that. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.

Besides,” he continued, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as he settled back into the leather, motioning for the attendant to bring him a drink, “you’ll be wound up no matter what we do to you. It’s in your nature.”

“Fuck you,” you had said softly, settling down in the seat furthest from him with your face towards the window. Any closer and he would have been bound to see the fury of your heartbeat through your skin or hear your labored breath. Fighting with a man in his position, with his power, was the ultimate aphrodisiac. You’d never shied away from going toe-to-toe with him, especially not the few times it had escalated beyond arguing and moved into more. Arguing with him now, knowing there were so few boundaries still existing between you yet knowing he wouldn't back down or give in was beyond frustrating.

"You wish you could," he had said with a chuckle, raising his glass to his lips.

He had been right about you and you hated to admit it. The end of the triple header was in sight and you were wound up, springs loaded more tightly than they'd ever been, and neither Sebastian or Toto had so much as glanced your way unless required to by their jobs. They behaved in front of the media and team, but when it was just you around, it was as though you didn't exist.

You decided to funnel all of your anger towards them into other aspects of the weekend, giving them the same silent treatment they were dishing out. You did your best to ignore them both, going so far as to leave the post-race briefing early before conversations shifted to Sebastian’s car.

Later that evening, you receive a text from Toto.

We need to talk. Room 853.

Even though he was located just a few floors above you, you decide to make him wait, taking your time redressing and combing through your hair.

Thirty minutes later you swing the already-unlocked door open.

Toto stands at the desk, fingers flying over the screen of his phone while Seb lounges in the plush chair on the other side of the bed.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Toto sets his phone aside and faces you. “I said we needed to talk. Sit down.”

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

Toto grins and shakes his head. “I wasn’t asking. Sit.”

“Woof,” you bark out as you collapse backwards on the bed, already annoyed that they’ve cornered you like this. Seb laughs and for the first time in more than a week, you feel a genuine smile tug at your lips.

“Funny,” Toto deadpans.

“Is this all you dragged me here for? Or is there actually a point to this conversation?”

Toto shakes his head. “Such an attitude. What’s gotten into you recently?”

“What’s gotten into me? How about what’s not gotten into me? You catch Seb and I together and then tell me I’m not allowed to get off for two weeks, lording that fact over my head at any chance you get. Then you two start treating me like I don’t exist at all and—”

"I know she's gotten off," Seb interrupts, his face smug, “at least once. And no," he says, eyes shooting over to Toto, "I didn't have anything to do with it."

"You don't know shit," you quip from the edge of the bed, words tossed over your shoulder towards him.

He stands and moves, stepping away and then back before the mattress dips right behind you. "The entire hospitality trailer heard you. Britta asked if she needed to go make sure you were okay, but I convinced her you were just pissed, like you usually are when I outqualify you. I think I do know 'shit'."

When you open your mouth to protest, he moves from behind you and slides a silk scarf between your lips, tying it off quickly behind your head.

When you look over to Toto in shock, he grins.

"Shake your head no or tap out right now and we'll do it your way - whatever that may be - no feelings hurt. But I think," he says, watching as Seb leans in close to nose at the delicate skin of your neck, "I think that you'll enjoy it our way."

You maintain eye contact with him as you raise your chin in one last act of defiance.

“You’re trembling,” Seb whispers, his voice low and goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“She’s desperate for it.”

“Remember your sign?” Seb presses his lips to your jaw.

You reach back and give Seb’s leg three taps with two fingers.

“Good girl.” He looks at Toto and gives him a nod.

“Here’s the thing, pet. I told you no orgasms. Did you obey that rule?”

You stare him down but shake your head no.

“You should have heard her,” Seb says, his hands smoothing up and down your rib cage, rucking at the fabric of your shirt, creeping closer and closer to the curve of your breast. You barely keep yourself from arching into his touch. “She was in my room after qualifying, fingering herself, and she got mad when I kicked her out. Went back to her room and must’ve made herself cum so hard she screamed.”

“Screamed?” Toto directs his question to you.

You drop your chin in shame, remembering how you had been pushed to your breaking point by Seb’s dismissal. When the silence hangs in the air, you lift your head and nod.

“Good thing we gagged you tonight then, huh?”

Your eyes go wide and you glance at Seb.

“Sorry love. Boss makes the rules.”

“How many do you think we can get from her before she taps, Sebastian?”

“Six,” he responds, grinning.

“I think eight. But, knowing her, she’ll pass out before she taps out.”

Toto steps forward and reaches out a hand, cupping your jaw gently. “Wish I could kiss you.” He traces his thumb over your stretch lower lip and you whine, the sound strained through the makeshift gag. “No, no,” Toto chides, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead, “no whining, no begging. You wanted to cum so badly before, so we're going to let you now, as many times as we see fit. And you can’t ask for more or tell me to stop or use that smart mouth to sass me and piss me off. We’ll go until you learn that your orgasms are ours. Understand?”

You twist your head to give Seb more room as he presses kisses along your exposed skin, pulling your collar aside when he runs out of new real estate. You take a moment to consider what’s happening, what it will mean for you, and you lift your chin again, giving Toto a definitive nod.

———

You had lost count.

The first, wrought from you with Seb's fingers as Toto looked on and gave instruction, was forceful but not enough to slate the heat in your lower abdomen. The ache had persisted - insistent - until Toto shoved your knees wide and lowered his mouth to your core. Both men - Sebastian behind you and Toto kneeling below you - were still completely clothed while you writhed naked between them.

The second and third orgasms were claimed by Toto, his mouth working easy and lazy against your clit, as though this was just a hobby for him, and you let your head fall back onto Seb's shoulder as he dove back in for the fourth.

"You should see yourself," Seb says, voice low in your ear. His hands roam over your torso, fingers firm as they dig into your skin and move to pinch at your nipples. You back arches, offering more of yourself to the men before you, and your eyes drift closed.

"You look incredible," he continues, his hips lifting to press his hard length into the small of your back.

You work to open your eyes and look up to him, pleading as best you can without words, until you feel Toto work a finger into your dripping slit and your eyes flutter shut once again.

"That's it baby, come on. Let it go," Seb says, his eyes fixed on where Toto's mouth has sealed over your clit, tongue barely peeking past his lips with every rhythmic swipe of it over your tight bundle of nerves.

When another orgasm builds, every muscle in your body goes taught until it all snaps and you scream into the gag, arching away from Toto's mouth and Seb's hands and their combined overwhelming presence.

They give you a moment of peace while you work to catch your breath, inhales and exhales forceful through your nose and around the now-soaked scarf.

When Toto kneels on the bed he's finally naked, moving up the sheets until he's in front of you. "Doing so well, pet." He leans in over you, his nose brushing yours. "You still okay? We can take away the scarf if you want."

You lean into him, hands lifting to hold him close as you inhale his scent and feel his skin against yours. You pull back and nod your head, watching as he reaches around you to untie the scarf and toss it aside.

"Better?"

You nod, clearing your throat a few times before Seb, naked now too, appears behind you with a bottle of water. You sit up to take a few quick sips and pass it back, watching as he swallows the rest down easily.

Toto takes your chin in his hand and pulls you close, his lips meeting yours much more gently than you had expected, but the kiss deepens quickly. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you moan, his lips pulling into a grin against yours until he pulls away. "You taste divine," he says, licking at his lips again.

Seb's hands settle on your hips and he tugs, swiftly raising you until you settle onto your knees, stance wide as you lean into Toto.

"Don't cum in her," Toto commands over your shoulder, and a shiver runs through you at his words.

"But--" Toto breaks off your thought with a finger to your lips.

"Just because I took the gag off doesn't mean you can talk back. Understood?"

"Yeah," you answer, watching as he leans back onto the bed, his hand moving down to stroke once, twice over his hard length.

"Try again."

"Yes, I understand." You continue watching his hand, distracted by the prominent veins and dark pink head of his cock. You lick your lips and he chuckles.

"Gets rid of the gag and immediately wants something back in her mouth," he teases, his words directed at Sebastian.

You glance over your shoulder to see him, his eyes fixed on your ass as he runs one of his hands back and forth over the smooth skin there. The other hand holds his cock with what looks like a too-tight grip.

"Sometimes I have to stick a finger or two in her mouth while I'm fucking her. Keeps her quiet at least." He already sounds wrecked as he teases your folds with the head of his cock.

You scoff and Toto reaches a hand up, burying it in the hair at the nape of your neck. He drags your head down to his cock and you open your mouth automatically. He's larger than Seb, wider and a bit longer, but something inside of you begs to impress him, to be able to take him all in one go.

"What did I just say?" he asks, holding you just out of reach.

Seb chooses that moment to suddenly - finally - push his way in, your wet pussy making the slide easy, and you mon.

You whine when his hips hit your skin, the feeling of being filled almost too much already.

You don't have time to process the intrusion before Toto is pushing his cock past your lips. Seb pulls out slowly and then presses back in. Before you know it, you're being filled as quickly as one hole is empty, from one end or the other, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of it as they use you.

When Seb reaches around your hip to settle the pads of two fingers over your clit, you buck into his hand, Toto's cock falling from your lips as you swear, already too sensitive. He bats your reaching hand away and thrusts harder, fueled by the hitching of your breath and the way you tighten around him, squeezing like a snake.

Toto pulls at your hair, straining your neck to meet his gaze. "Cum on his cock, pet."

“It’s too much,” you choke out, barely a whimper, as Seb begins to grind into you with each thrust. It’s overwhelming, being fucked by Seb while Toto commands your attention.

“Don't stop,” Toto directs at Seb. Then he looks back down at you.

“She’s so fucking tight,” you hear Seb say, still looking up, watching the way Toto grins at his words.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

You follow his command and he grabs your jaw with one hand, holding your mouth just where he wants it. He stares for a moment before opening his own mouth and spitting slowly, his hot saliva hitting the center of your tongue. He holds you there, your mouth open, for just a moment before pressing your jaw up.

“Swallow.”

“Fuck, shes cumming again, I can feel it. She’s just— Fuck!”

Seb pulls out suddenly and even through the tremors of your own orgasm, you can feel the hot splashes of his release across your back. He groans and stumbles back, collapsing into the nearby chair.

“Toto,” you whine, desperately needing both more and for this to end. You can feel the beads of sweat slide down your back, the tendrils of hair at your temples damp and sticking to your skin.

“Come here.” He grips your arm and drags you up, rolling over you as he moves you where he wants you: on your back underneath him. He pushes your knees up almost too-high and looks down your sex. “Look so pretty, all fucked out like this. Pink and puffy.”

You flush at his casually obscene observance, at the act of him looking at you - at all of you.

“Should I get my mouth on you again? Make you cum with my tongue? Maybe two, three more, make you beg me to stop.”

“Toto,” you beg, unsure of what you’re asking for. More would wreck you - ruin you - but yet the ache for him, for anything, still sits hotly within you.

“I could do it. I could sit with my face there for hours, pet.”

“Please fuck me,” you try instead, head swimming with his words, with how tempting it is to take him up on his offer.

“Now she uses her manners.” He moves up and aligns his cock with your slit, teasing your entrance just as Seb had before. He thrusts in fast then, lowering himself to swallow your cry direct from the source. He holds still, his breathing easy as your chest heaves, hips already working in search of friction.

“Please,” you beg, near tears, as the mere feeling of him filling him up sets you off, the wave of another orgasm building quickly. “Toto, please, fuck me, please.”

He pulls back and nearly out, glancing down as the head of his cock catches on the rim of your pussy. When he pulls all the way, you cry out, your desperation met with a chuckle. “I told you pet, your orgasms are mine. You cum when I say you can cum. Sebastian makes you come when I say he can. Are we clear?”

You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with desperation.

“Good girl. And just so you don’t forget it,” he says, thrusting back in, hard, “we’re going until I’ve had enough.”

You arch into him, your body taking over as it seeks out any tendrils of pleasure he’s willing to give.

He takes his hands in yours and raises them above your head, his body stretching long over yours as you cry out with his deeper thrusts.

You suddenly still, your legs trembling around him as your tears fall, the sudden orgasm absolutely stealing your breath. He groans and slows, grinding his hips into yours, the pressure of him inside you prolonging your release as he relishes the feel of you constricting around him.

“That’s it, there you go. So good for me.”

“I can’t— Toto, I—”

“You can, I know you can. Such a good girl, you can take it. Give me one more, come on, you’re so pretty when you cum for me like this.”

His patient, deep thrusts are more than enough to set you off again, and you sob as you feel it creep in, absolutely nothing to be done to stop it. Your voice is hoarse when you shout as it finally crashes over you, your vision going white and hearing going fuzzy.

Toto’s thrusts turn erratic then and he too pulls out with a groan. You watch with barely-open eyes as he grips his cock and strokes himself just once before painting your stomach with his own release.

“Fuck,” he pants, staring down at your body.

Tears continue to gather at the corners of your eyes and when you blink, they tumble down your temple to mix with the stale sweat there.

You sniffle and hear some shuffling before Seb appears, kneeling on the comforter next to you.

His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Come on love, let’s get you cleaned up. Did so good for us, let me take care of you now.” He turns to Toto. “Go get a warm, damp cloth from the bathroom. She’ll want to be held and I doubt you want to get jizz everywhere.”

“How do you know what to do?”

“Because she and I have talked about it! As much as it kills you to give up some control here, just follow my lead. She might ask for something from you, she might not. But just shut up and let me take care of her.”

Toto stares for a moment, watching the way Seb moves in - to press a kiss to your temple, to muzzle at your cheekbone - and how it almost brings a smile to your face, before he follows Sebastian’s request.

He returns and passes the rag to Seb, listening to the soothing way he praises you as he wipes your skin clean, folding the rag over itself to wipe at the sweat drying on your collarbones and neck.

When Seb turns to toss the rag away, you grab for Toto then, tugging him down almost beside you, half of his body still heavy on top of yours. He adjusts and wraps himself around your back, his frame completely engulfing yours, watching as Seb mirrors the pose in front of you, still speaking in such hushed tones that leave Toto straining to hear what’s being said. When your voice breaks through, his name somewhere on your lips, he leans in.

“Of course he’s proud of you,” Seb replies to whatever question you had asked. “I am too.”

Toto leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder and your head turns, now-bright eyes meeting his. “Thank you,” he mumbles, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to your skin. He continues his gentle assault, lips brushing any inch of skin he can reach. “I mean it. Thank you.”

[allthatyoulove]

Dance With Me

Loki / Reader

Summary: You’re at Tony’s masquerade party, when Loki asks you to dance.

Warnings: cussing and dirty talk maybe? nothing too bad

Words: 1.5k

A/N: The summary is pretty short just b/c this is more of a drabble that I had the idea for like an hour before I wrote it. Also, sorry the gif is so big I’m not sure how to fix it but he’s hot so it’s ok; Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed! Thanks for stopping by :)

----

I ran my hands down the sides of my dress, smoothing it one last time as I looked in the mirror. I grabbed my mask and tied it at the back of my head, checking myself out before I headed back out to the ballroom.

Tony was throwing a masquerade ball and all the avengers were forced to go. He didn’t even really have a reason or cause for this ball, this was all a last minute cover-up party for the kinky stuff Steve had found in Pepper’s laundry the other day. Regardless, Thor wouldn’t let it go after Tony said it was for “party purposes” and insisted that he throw a masquerade.

So, here we are.

Tony rented a gigantic elegant ballroom, ever the billionaire, with only the most expensive alcohol, food, clothes, and people.

The avengers were spread throughout the room. Thor was flirting with some women by the bar who looked uninterested, T’Challa was on the dance floor with Steve and Sam while Bucky stood with them subtly moving to the music, Vision and Wanda were sitting at a table flirting like highschoolers, and Natasha was on her way to steal the hearts of the girls Thor was talking to. Bruce was talking with Tony and Clint. Pepper and Shuri were sitting with me, across the table from Wanda and Vision.

I was searching the crowd for the dramatically dark and mysterious avenger that has yet to be seen.

I’d think he would thrive in a setting like this, being able to dress with flair and saunter all over the dance floor terrorizing people from underneath a mask. Or, maybe he doesn’t want his face to be covered at all, instead wanting all the attention on his prominent cheekbones. Either way, the function was in full effect and he was nowhere to be seen.

It’s not that I’m purposefully looking for him, because I’m not, I just feel…. an absence from the room.

Don’t get me wrong, Tony threw some good parties, and I was having fun, I was just missing out on tormenting my least favorite avenger.

I must have been deep in thought, because I found myself having to refocus my eyes on the room and come back down from my mind when I heard his voice.

“Looking for someone, darling?”

I sighed as I turned around in my chair, seeing Loki straightening after crouching so he could whisper in my ear.

“That’s funny actually, I was just wondering when you would come to ruin the night”

He let out a deep laugh, closing his eyes. I took this second to look at what he was wearing before he made some smart remark about it.

He was in an all-black suit, head to toe. Not a splash of color. Black blazer, black tie, black shirt….black mask.

“I’m glad you decided to bless us all tonight and wear a mask. I would’ve guessed you’d hate to have to hide your brooding underneath something so elegant and pleasing.”

He instantly replied, as if he knew what I was going to say from the beginning.

“Well, I do love to please.”

He paused for a beat before continuing while I smirked and shook my head in disbelief. The song changed from something upbeat and more-danceable, to a beautiful, slow, dancing ballad.

“And, speaking of pleasing,” He made a gesture of looking me up and down in my chair with my legs crossed.

“You look enchanting.”

My face warmed, but I kept my expression as I replied in a flirtatious tone.

“Such a charmer, aren’t you? Is there something you want, Loki?”

He smirked and didn’t take his eyes off of mine.

“Dance with me.”

He held one hand out to me, keeping the other behind his back in proper fashion.

I picked up my glass of wine I had sitting in front of me and chugged the rest of it before grabbing his hand.

Shuri and Pepper laughed, going back to their conversation they were having before as Loki and I walked to the dance floor.

“I should tell you I have no idea how to dance.” I told him as we reached the dance floor.

He let go of my hand and stood in front of me, never dropping his smirk.

“You seem to know how to dance pretty well at Tony’s other parties”

I jokingly rolled my eyes, “Well I can’t exactly shake my ass in a ballroom, can I? No matter how much you’d like it.”

He laughed and grabbed my hand, resting his other hand delicately at the small of my back. I immediately stopped smirking and stiffened a little, not sure what to do with my hands.

“Relax” he whispered, guiding the hand that wasn’t holding his to the back of his neck.

I let out a breath and relaxed into this new position we were in, waiting for something to happen. I wasn’t sure what to expect or what to do, so I was going to let him lead with everything.

We stood still for a second, staring at each other. His eyes roamed my face for a second before he softly cleared his throat and began to dance.

My feet followed his to the sound of the music as we started to waltz across the dance floor. The song was a slower song, and I found my feet interesting as we started to dance.

“Look at me”

I looked up at him, raising my eyebrows in a silent question.

“I meant what I said earlier”

“And what was it you said earlier?”

“When I said that you look beautiful”

I smiled at him as I spoke, “I believe the word you used was ‘enchanting’”

He laughed, switching his gaze from my eyes to my lips briefly.

“Well, there’s quite a few different words that could describe how you look”

I leaned in a little closer, wrapping my hand that was around the back of his neck a little tighter, and whispering like I was telling him a secret.

“Like what?”

He didn’t reply right away, instead dancing a few more seconds before he lightly twirled me, bringing me back to him closer than before. His arm was fully around my waist now, and our faces were centimeters apart when he spoke again.

“I don’t know if some of the ones I’m thinking are appropriate here, with people around.”

He looked at my lips as they slightly parted, in shock of how bold he was being tonight. I didn’t want him to read too much into my pause, so I quickly got myself together and responded.

“Well now I have to know”

He let out a deep chuckle, looking around the room as he thought of what to say next. I smiled a real smile at him, at how he looked. At how we were right now. I smiled up at him, looking at his eyes, waiting for his reply.

He brought his face back down to meet mine, his eyes dark. He had a sly look on his face. The face of the god of mischief. I was even more excited to hear it now. This was going to be good.

“Why don’t I show you? Tonight, in your room? I would offer right here, right now, but seeing as you already brought up the fact that we’re in a ballroom isn’t appropriate, I’m willing to wait.”

I froze, my feet stopping in their place as I looked up at him in surprise. Or shock, maybe? My mouth stayed slightly parted. He didn’t waste any time when I stopped dancing, picking me up with his arm that was around my waist to slowly spin us around. I was completely off the ground, and he picked me up as if I weighed nothing.

His eyes never left mine, as if he was searching for my answer in them. I was scared he would find it, too, with the intensity that he had in his eyes.

After looking at him in shock for a couple of seconds and not saying anything, I gave a dry laugh before I responded.

“Okay then, pretty boy. I guess we’ll see if you’re worthy of being a god after all.”

He smiled at me, setting me down on my feet as the song slowly came to a close. Our faces were still so close, if I leaned in just a little…

Everyone around us clapped for the live performers as the song ended. I was snapped out of my little haze as I took a step back from him, out of his arms. My waist felt cold, felt empty without his touch.

I gave him a mock curtsy, holding my dress out to him. He smirked and did the same to me, holding out his arms as if to show me off.

“I’ll see you tonight, darling.”

He walked off the dance floor and into the crowd, leaving me standing on the dance floor to relive everything that just happened.

[starryeyes-darkestnights]

Show Must Go On

Part 6 of We Dance Together Now

An O’Knutzy au where Leo and Logan are still playing for the Lions, but Finn is a musician/grad student they met by chance on a roadie in Montreal.

Read Part 5 here: 

Part 5 - Gold Rush

I also stuck this up on AO3, my username there is the same :)

As always, these beautiful characters and their world belong to the incredible @lumosinlove ! Her work is amazing, and I’m so happy to get to play with some of the people and places she’s created <3

The songs I referenced in here are Show Must Go On- Queen (briefly), I Wanna Dance With Somebody- Whitney Houston, and Ocean Eyes- Billie Eilish. 

I hope you like it!!!

@sunflowerfox87 thanks for requesting to be tagged in updates! :)

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Logan

Logan stood nervously in front of the door to Finn and Leo’s apartment, wishing for the hundredth time that day that he hadn’t given in to Leo’s badgering to come by before Finn’s show tonight.

He was not looking forward to dealing with the consequences of his spiral last night. But he also didn’t want things to stay messed up between them, the way they had been that morning.

What he did want, was to pretend the whole thing had never happened. So, he’d spent his day searching for reasons to delay coming over, prolonging the amount of time he could spend not dealing with it.

But eventually he had run out of excuses, so now he was here. He could hear laughter coming from inside. That seemed like a good sign. He reached up and knocked before he could talk himself out of it, listening to the familiar sound of footsteps crossing the entryway.

Then Leo was there, smiling and holding open the door, still in the sweats he wore home from practise.

“Hey Tremz, come on in.”

Logan never been good at faking smiles, so he just nodded down at Leo’s legs, “Nice pants. You should have told me it was dress-down day at the Burrow.”

Leo just gave him a sarcastic look. “Ha ha. Very funny. I’m on my way to get changed now. Finn’s in the kitchen. Eat something if you’re hungry. I’ll be right back.”

He seemed like his usual self. That made Logan feel a bit better. Maybe he’d overreacted. Maybe everything was fine.

Leo left for his room, and Logan headed over to where Finn was finishing up the dishes in the kitchen.

“Hey, Fish.” He took a seat at the island, hoping he sounded normal too.

Finn turned at the greeting, his face lighting up when he caught sight of Logan.

“Lo! Hey. You’re here. How were the kids?”

Part of Logan’s procrastination that afternoon had involved volunteering to spend several hours playing a pickup game with the Dumais kids and their friends at the outdoor rink near their house- something he liked, but certainly wouldn’t have brushed off Leo and Finn for any other day.

“They’re good. Katie’s getting pretty cocky on the ice. I think she’s gonna end up as a captain one day.”

“Ah. Good for her.”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence fell. Finn fidgeted with a dish towel, smiling nervously at him. Finn was never nervous.

Ok, so things were definitely not fine. Logan felt guilty as he remembered the laughter he had heard through the door. He didn’t want to be the cause of another ruined evening.

Leo reappeared at the other end of the kitchen island. “Do you want a drink, Tremz?”

“I’m sorry.” Logan blurted out.

Leo and Finn both looked surprised at his apology.

“Sorry… for what, exactly?” asked Leo, looking confused.

Logan was already regretting saying anything. But he was committed now. “Uh… for this morning. And last night, I guess. I was in a weird ass mood, and I didn’t mean to be weird to you guys too. I’m good now, though, so Finn, you can stop being all nervous around me. I don’t want to fuck up the evening. This is stupid.”

Finn jumped in to reassure him. “What? No, Logan, no, we were all weird this morning, don’t worry about that. That’s not what…”

He stopped suddenly, and shot a glance at Leo, looking even more nervous than he had a few moments before. Leo nodded back, subtly, but Logan caught it.

Now he was confused. What the hell was that?

He watched as Finn took the few steps around the island to stand next to Leo, who was looking at Logan with careful eyes.

“Tremz, we wanted to talk to you about something, if that’s ok?”

It was an innocuous question, but something in Leo’s voice put Logan on hyper alert. He jerked his attention to Finn, who was looking nervously up at Leo. He felt a chill go straight through his chest and settle in the pit of his stomach.

Oh.

He forced his eyes down to where their fingers were touching on the countertop.

Shit.

He stood up quickly, his chair screeching loudly as it slid back on the tiles. He couldn’t look away from their hands.

Leo followed his gaze down and yanked his arm back toward himself. “Lo…”

“Non.” He interrupted, “Non. Désolé. It’s good. That’s good, I- I am happy for you guys.” He swung his eyes wildly around the room, looking for an escape. He needed to leave, to get out, but Leo and Finn were standing between him and the front door.

He backed up a few steps, nearly tripping on the chair he didn’t remember knocking over as he remembered the balcony door. He grabbed for it, yanking it open and rushing out, sliding it closed behind himself.

He slid down the wall next to the door. Out of sight. Déjà vu. Just like that morning.

He was dizzy.

Breathe, Logan. He sucked in the fresh air. Once. Twice. Three times.

He tried to let the evening breeze calm him. He was making this into a scene again. He needed to pull it together before it became a thing.

He tried to reason with himself. You saw this coming. You know how well they fit together. You’ve suspected it since Ilvermorny.

He had even thought he would be ok with it.

He hadn’t known it would feel like this, though.

Just get it together. Make it through the night. That’s all you have to do. You can do it.

He gave himself to the count of 5 to compose himself, and then stood and slid the door back open. He stayed where he was, though, and waited for them to join him. He could do this, but he couldn’t do it inside, where he couldn’t breathe.

When Leo and Finn came, neither of them stood between him and the door, and Logan was grateful.

“Lo…” Leo’s voice was hesitant. “You didn’t let us finish.”

“Oui, je sais, I’m sorry, I was just surprised.” He plastered a smile on his face. “But, uh, congratulations?”

Finn shook his head. “That’s not really what we wanted to talk to you about. Or, I mean, it is, but that’s not all of it.”

It seemed to Logan like that first bombshell was more than enough information for the day, but he didn’t want to make this worse, so he went along with it anyway. “Ok. What else?”

Leo took back over, speaking slowly, like he was considering each word before he said it. “So… this afternoon, Finn and I talked, and we realized that maybe this—” He gestured between the three of them. “Us. Isn’t what we thought it was.”

Logan wasn’t following. Finn noticed and tried to explain.

“I told Leo, or, well, I guess I didn’t tell him, I kind of just sang at him, but it mostly got the point across, and—”

“Finn.” Leo cut him off, gently.  

Finn flushed. “Right. Sorry. The point,” his voice softened, “is that I made him aware that the feelings I had for him were more than just friendship. Which you figured out. But we also talked about the fact that… well, we know you feel the same way about him too.”

Finn’s voice was gentle, cautious but his words cut through Logan anyway. He felt the panic start to rise again. Fuck.

“What are you talking about?” Logan knew his words were sharper than they needed to be, but he couldn’t bring himself to temper them.

“Logan, it’s ok. I promise. That’s how I feel about you too.” Leo rushed, all of his previous caution gone. “And it’s how I feel about Finn, and I also know that’s how you feel about Finn. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, and I’ve been looking at you both the same way. You just didn’t notice. None of us noticed.”

Logan was frozen in place, his eyes zigzagging wildly between the two men standing across from him.

They knew. They knew.

“What the fuck?”

He couldn’t deny it. He didn’t know if he wanted to deny it.

“Leo. Finn. What the fuck??”

Finn took a step forward, wide brown eyes completely unguarded as they locked onto Logan’s. His vulnerability sent Logan’s heart spinning. “We wanted to talk to you. We wanted to see if you wanted this too. If there was a way, if there was any way, that we could make this work. All of us. Do you think there could be?”

All of us. Logan hadn’t known that was a thing that could happen. But now that the idea was in front of him, it felt right. Like it had been right all along. His heart soared. Of course he wanted it too. With every fibre of his being, he wanted it. They liked him. They wanted him.

He could never have them.

Reality came crashing down around him.

He forced himself to answer Finn’s question.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Finn. I can’t—” He looked at Leo. He would understand. “Leo. It can’t work out like this.”

“It can, Logan. As long as we are all on the same page, it can.”

Leo didn’t understand. Suddenly Logan felt very alone. His temper flared.

“You know it’s not that easy, Leo.” He snapped. “It doesn’t work like that! It can’t work like that. We are in the NHL, Nut! The NHL. We’ve worked our whole lives for this, and you’ve seen how people are. Look at what happened to Cap!”

Leo hadn’t been there at All-Stars after everything that happened to Sirius and Loops. He didn’t see how bad it got, how many phone calls Sirius had to take from Coach, how scared he was that entire weekend. Logan had taken his phone and deleted every social media app he had, but he had still been bombarded with hate from hockey fans and, worse, from people within the league itself.

Leo’s voice was firmer now. “Exactly, Logan. Look at Sirius. At his example. He is our captain. He is our gay captain, who is still very much playing in the NHL. And not just playing. He’s leading the league.”

“That is the POINT, Nut! He is the captain. He is arguably the best player in the league right now. And there were still that many people trying to kick him out! This is my second season. You’re a rookie. Do you really think people are going to go to bat for us like they did for him? For the two newest, youngest players on the team? We are expendable!”

He had thought about this. About the impossibility of it all. From the moment he had recognized his feelings for Leo, he had known it would never work.

He waited for Leo to get it now, to agree. But instead, Leo just moved to lean against the wall next to him, keeping a few feet between them. His voice was gentle when he replied.

“Yes, Logan. I do think they would go to bat for us. I know Sirius would. Coach would. Alice would. I’m not saying we should do anything publicly, but behind the scenes, you know that they would work to help protect us in the case that anything ever came out in the future.”

He shifted, turning so that he could look Logan in the eye for what he said next. “It was never going to be easy for people like us, Tremz. I’m terrified too. I never meant to be in this position either, but we are, and… what happened with Sirius…” He shook his head, his gaze dropping. It was still hard for him to think about too, Logan realized. “…what happened with Sirius showed us that the people who matter, the people we need to have our backs, will. We are allowed to live, Logan.”

Logan had never wanted something to be true so badly. He ran over Leo’s words in his mind. We are allowed to live.

“I don’t want to lie, Leo. I don’t want to hide. That’s not who I am.”

“We don’t have to. We can tell the people who matter, Lo. It’s nobody else’s business. It’s only about what makes us comfortable. What makes us happy. Neither of us are ever going to push you into anything you don’t want, or that you aren’t ready for. I just don’t ever want you to think that you can’t have what will make you happy. You deserve to be happy. Whether it’s with us or not.”

Logan listened to the kindness in Leo’s voice, and felt the fight drain out of him. He was so tired of constantly battling against himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That fire that always burned inside him had fizzled out, leaving him with nothing but the feelings he had been trying to push away for months. Feelings for the two people who were standing right in front of him, right now, telling him that they wanted him too. That he could have them, too. That he could have this, and his career, and it could work.

He wanted to believe it.

He looked up at Leo, beside him. At Finn, standing quietly across from him. He tried to imagine walking away from them right now. It made him feel sick.

Finn spoke into the silence. “Logan, I can’t pretend to understand what your job is like. And I won’t try. But I do need you to know that I am here, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you decide to do. I’ll always be here, in whatever capacity you need.”

Logan’s throat tightened at Finn’s words and suddenly he knew that he was done. It was over. He was going to trust them. Relief flooded through him as he accepted it.

He didn’t want to talk anymore, but he knew they needed to hear him say it. So he pulled together as much composure as he could and tried his best.

“I didn’t want to want you. I tried so hard not to want you. I told myself so many times that I could do it, that I could keep my feelings under control.” His voice was shaky. He looked at Leo. At Finn. “But you took over everything. Everything.”

He breathed out the next words as he felt himself moving closer to Finn. “I don’t want to fight it anymore. I can’t- I just want—” He hoped they could understand what he was trying to say.

It seemed that they did, because suddenly they were both right in front of him, and one of his hands was behind Finn’s neck, and the other was desperately reaching out for Leo and finally- finally- he stopped fighting against himself.

He pulled Finn to him, and then Finn’s lips were on his lips, and Leo’s were on his jaw, and all of his senses were lit up like a lightning storm. In that moment, his entire world was just that apartment, that balcony, those boys. He let himself get lost in the feeling of it all, pulling away from Finn to connect with Leo, pulling away from Leo to let them connect with each other. Everything was so bright.

It felt like forever, and not long enough, when they finally took a moment to catch their breath. Logan let his eyes roam over their tangled forms from where he was still wrapped around Leo, and let out a quiet, wonder-filled laugh. Leo turned to him and tilted his head in question, his chest still heaving where Finn was resting against it. Logan just leaned in and kissed him again, gently this time. He leaned their foreheads together and touched his fingertips to Leo’s lips. “Quand je t'embrasse… je vois des couleurs.”

Leo’s shining blue eyes softened at that, and Logan felt his grip tighten around his waist before Finn, never a fan of being left out, started to complain. “Hey! Don’t speak French. That looked cute. I want to hear the cute things! What did he say?”

Logan laughed, and Leo grinned at him mischievously before turning back to Finn. “Logan’s vision goes all technicolour when he kisses us.”

Logan’s jaw dropped mid-laugh. “Nutty! That is not what I said! It was much nicer when I said it. You make it sound like a bad Austin Powers scene.” He pouted.

Finn laughed back and ran a thumb along Logan’s lower lip, erasing the pout. “Well, if you would speak English in the first place, you wouldn’t have to rely on a faulty translator.”

It was Leo’s turn to protest. “Hey! I’m not faulty!” He paused, fighting back a smirk. “I’m freestyling.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Logan laughed and gave him a shove. Leo was just reaching out to retaliate when Finn’s phone interrupted, suddenly blasting Show Must Go On at an absolutely obnoxious volume.

All three of them startled, Leo and Logan freezing with Logan’s hand still twisted in the shoulder of Leo’s shirt. Finn frantically spun around, looking for the source of the music.

He finally spotted his phone on an end table and scooped it up, silencing it with a relieved sigh before looking over to where Logan was staring at him incredulously.

“… what?” He looked a little suspicious as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Was that an alarm?? Why don’t you have beeps like a normal person?? Merde, Harz, you scared the shit out of us.”

“It’s Finn, Lo. He used a song to start this party, of course he’s going to use one to end it.” Leo’s voice was playful. Finn wrinkled his nose at them.

“Beeps are boring.” He crossed his arms defensively. “Music is more fun. And it’s my reminder that I have a show tonight. Hence—” He swept his arms dramatically out over the balcony railing and bowed to an imaginary crowd, “—'Show Must Go On’.” He spun back to smile brightly at the two of them. “It’s perfect. You’re just a hater.”

Leo laughed, but Logan was still stuck on what Leo had said.

“Hold on, Nut, back up. You said he used a song to start this party? Finn said he sang things at you. Can I know the story?” He wanted to know how they had gotten up the nerve to set this in motion.

“Oh,” Leo turned to Finn, who nodded even though he suddenly looked uncharacteristically self-conscious, “I kind of walked in on Finn playing a song about us this afternoon. When I got back from practise.”

“A song about us? Like, he wrote it? About us?” That was not what he expected. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it- after all, he hadn’t exactly been his best self around Finn recently.

“Ya, that was pretty much my reaction while I listened, too. That’s what finally made us talk about all of this. It’s a beautiful song. Prettier than either of us, that’s for sure.” He teased

“Hey, speak for yourself, I am very pretty.” Logan retorted reflexively, but he was distracted.

He had been watching Finn as Leo talked, and he noticed him doing the thing he always did when they brought up his music, twisting his hands together and looking anywhere but at them- looking, in fact, like he would rather be doing anything else than talking about his music. He’d never asked him about it before, but he’d always wondered.

“Finn?”

“Hmm?” Finn looked up, a smile returning like it had never left.

“Why do you do that? Look away when we talk about your music?”

“Oh. Umm…” Finn looked surprised, his eyes going wide before darting back down again. He opened his mouth as if to continue, but closed it again without speaking.

Logan felt Leo’s hand tighten around his shoulder, but he ignored the gentle warning and barrelled on.

“You’re good, Finn. Like, really good. As in, you could do this as a career, good. So why are you so shy when we say that?”

Finn didn’t look back up, and when he replied, his voice was small, and quiet. Not at all like Finn.

“I can’t, actually.” He scuffed his shoe against a mark on the balcony floor.

Logan tilted his head, puzzled. “Can’t what?” He prodded gently.

Finn took a breath and looked back up a Logan, his jaw set. “I can’t do music professionally. I tried. That’s why I moved to Gryffindor. I spent the first few years here only going to school part-time, and spending as much time as I could just writing, and practising, and playing any venue that would have me. I have knocked on every single record label door in this city. Multiple times. They don’t want me. And it took me a long time to understand that. So, I gave that dream up. Now I just play for fun. For me.”

Logan was stunned. “Finn, I’m sorry, I—”

Finn cut him off, his expression softening. “No, Lo, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I should have told you guys that before. It’s not like it’s a big secret. I just… it’s hard. It’s hard to hear people say nice things about my music when I know it’s not good enough. You know? So I don’t always like talking about it. And it’s also… I mean, you’re both professional athletes. I’m so proud of you guys all the time, because you know what it’s like to work hard for what you want and to actually achieve it. And I didn’t want you to think less of me because I couldn’t do that.”

“Finn…” Leo started to reach out, but pulled his hand back. “I am so sorry if we’ve ever done anything to give you the impression that we would ever judge you. I promise, nothing you’ve ever said to us, today or any other day, could ever make me think less of you.”

Finn chuckled a bit, still looking at the ground. “I know. Logically, I know that. But sometimes it takes my heart a while to catch up to my brain.” He studied them for a moment before continuing. “I am really glad that you like my songs though. That makes me happy.”

“Like them?” Leo scoffed. “Finn, I threw away every rule I’d given myself and kissed you after you sang to me. I more than like your music.”

Finn actually laughed then, finally, and stepped toward them. Logan watched him reach out for their hands and slide their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb along the edge of Finn’s calloused fingers, imaging the guitar strings underneath them.

“That means a lot. Really. It took me a while to be able to write again after I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen.” He chewed his lip as he considered his words. “I was in a pretty dark place. It was Molly, actually, at the Burrow, who convinced me to let the music pull me out of it. And she was right, of course. Once I stopped trying to think of every lyric as a job application, I was able to actually enjoy it again, to remember why I loved it in the first place. It’s how I sort out my thoughts when everything is too messy in my head.”

Something shook loose in Logan’s memory then. “Wait… that song. The one you played the first night we came to see you here. There was a line… ‘I remember nights when art didn’t feel like work’. You said it was about moving to Gryffindor but… is this what it was actually about? Is that what you felt like?”

Finn looked surprised. “You remember that?”

“Yes. I also remember telling you that I liked that song and wanted to download it, so you should have known I would remember it.” he teased.

Finn grinned at him. “I thought you were just being nice. And yes, that is what that song was about. But, if it’s ok, I don’t really want to talk about it anymore right now.” His expression grew mischievous as he pulled himself closer to Logan, and to Leo. “I have two beautiful, perfect men standing on my balcony that I would very much like to—”

His phone blared from his pocket again.

“No!” Finn yanked it out of his pocket, silenced it, and threw it grumpily onto the chair cushion. “Rude. How did that go by so fast?”

Leo laughed, reaching his hands above his head for a lazy stretch before pulling Finn’s head in for a hug. “So, is that our siren call? Do we have to head out now?”

Finn sighed, deeply and dramatically. “Yes. The time has come, my friends. It’s to the plank we go.”

“Oh, shut up,” Logan grinned, ruffling Finn’s hair. “You love the Burrow.”

“I would love it more if it wasn’t interrupting this.”

“We have all night to do more of this.” Leo reminded him. “Lo and I have the day off tomorrow, and you don’t have class on the weekends.”

“That’s true.” Finn perked up. “You always were the smart one, Marigold. Ok, let’s go!”

Finn ducked out of Leo’s reach as the younger boy tried to retaliate against the nickname Finn only ever used to annoy him. The two of them were laughing now, but Logan felt his anxiety start to rise up at the thought of leaving the apartment, of going into a public space.

He reached out an arm to catch Finn on his way through the door. “Wait. Just… one second.”

Finn and Leo both stopped, looking at him curiously. He suddenly felt self-conscious.

“Um, before we go, can we just… can we agree that this is just between us? Just for now?”

Leo moved to stand directly in front of him, right next to Finn. He waited until Logan met his eyes, and then held them, steady.

“Logan. Of course. We told you we have no intention of doing anything you aren’t ready for and we meant it. And you’re not alone. I don’t think either of us is ready for this to be between anyone but us right now either.”

Finn nodded his agreement. “For everyone else, we are just three best friends, going to a coffee shop to watch a show and drink some liquid sugar. It’s us, Logan. You’re safe with us. I promise.” He grinned and shoved Logans hat down over his eyes. “Now seriously. Let’s go before I kiss one of you again and miss my start time.”

---

Finn

It was the longest show of Finn’s life. He tried his best to be in the moment, but all he could think of was how badly he wanted to be back at the apartment, with the two men he absolutely could not look at the entire time he played.

He had glanced over when he had finished his set-up, taking a moment before starting to just remind himself that they were real, that all of this was real.

Leo had been laughing at something Logan said, and Logan was watching him from across the table with a look that tugged at Finn’s heartstrings. He would never get over it- these two athletes with their strong postures and broad shoulders, their open smiles, and beautiful eyes. One so kind, and steady, and sure, the other so wild and passionate. And they wanted him. It was insane. Leo had noticed Finn watching and sent him a smile that made his heart skip, and Finn knew if he wanted to get through the set, he couldn’t look over again. It was a weird moment for him, as he remembered how awful it had been the first time he’d thought that exact thing, in this same place, at the first show they had ever come to see him play. This time he had a much happier reason to avoid looking their way.

Finn worked his way through the setlist he had rehearsed, trying his best to be present and give the audience his best. It was an easy enough set, all cover songs he had played a hundred times before. He decided at the last minute to throw in a new cover of one of his favourite Eagles songs, taking a quick glance to see that Leo caught the joke. He did, and Finn watched him lean over to explain it to Logan before he had to look away.

For once, the boys were ready to go immediately after he finished cleaning up. He stuck around long enough to give Molly a hug, feeling particularly sentimental toward her after that afternoon, and then they were all piled into his car and blasting Leo’s 90s pop playlist with the windows down.

Finn felt lighter than he had in a very long time. The weight of his secrets was finally off his shoulders, and the knowledge that when they got home he could kiss the boys currently screaming along to Christina Aguilera in the passenger seats of his car eclipsed all his other worries.

They managed to keep it together for the entire walk up from the parking lot, but as soon as the door shut behind them, Logan had Finn pinned up against it. Leo linked back up to the Bluetooth system and Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody blared through the apartment. Finn laughed into Logan’s mouth when he heard it, pushing him forward into the living room and shoving the coffee table out of the way as Leo danced up behind them.

Leo grabbed Logan’s hands and drew him in for his own kiss, dipping him low and spinning around to twirl him away and pull Finn in. The air was electric as they moved: spinning and touching and kissing and jumping. Too full of dizzy energy to stay in one spot for more than the amount of time it took to pull in close and explode apart. They were sweating and panting and laughing in the dim lighting, reveling in each other’s touch as they danced together in a way they’d never been able to before.

At one point, Finn had tried to step back from the chaos, to let Leo and Logan have a moment while he tried to take it all in. But Leo had reeled him back in close instead, pulling Logan in to sandwich him from the other side.

“We dance together now.” he had said, voice low and confident in their ears.

His words had lit Finn up, set his mind reeling with everything that had happened in the past 12 hours, with the feeling of having both boys there in his arms. He didn’t think he would ever be calm again.

But as the night wore on the energy gradually shifted, and by the time Ocean Eyes came up on the playlist, Finn was finally slowing down. Logan was next, dropping his head to Finn’s shoulder, and then Leo wrapped his long arms around both of them, swaying together as the lyrics washed over them. They were quiet together then, just breathing in each other’s presence. Finn buried his face in Logan’s dark curls, and felt Logan reaching for Leo’s hand. Leo had his chin resting on Finn’s head, and Finn had never felt more right than he did in that moment. He sang along quietly to the lyrics, relishing the way Logan sank further into him as he did.

As the final notes played out, Leo pulled away long enough to switch off his phone. They collapsed together on the couch then, somehow even more wound together than they had been before. Finn wasn’t sure he ever wanted to be farther apart from them than this, ever again.

---

Leo

The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, hands roaming and fingers tangling together as they settled down. Leo couldn’t stop pressing kisses to Finn’s temple.

It was Logan who eventually broke their silence, sighing contentedly from where he was burrowed low in between them.

“I like this apartment.” His voice was soft as his fingertips traced shapes on Leo’s leg.

Leo caught Finn’s eye before the two of them looked over at him.

“You do?” Finn asked.

“Ya.” He paused for moment, looking thoughtful. “It reminds me of the woods, back home.”

That made Finn smile. “Lo, we don’t have so much as a potted plant in here.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Logan looked a little embarrassed then. “I meant like, mentally. I don’t know. It’s kind of stupid, actually. Never mind.”

Leo pulled Logan a little tighter. “Hey, no. Keep going. We want to know.”

“We do.” Finn agreed, running a finger down the length of Logan’s nose before leaning down to kiss the tip of it. “Please tell us?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again now. He shoved himself up to actually sit properly on the couch between them.  “I just… at home, when I’m hiking or camping, it’s just quiet.”

Finn turned to fully face Logan, his arms wrapped around his legs and chin resting on his knees. Leo leaned against his end of the couch as they listened to Logan talk.

Logan continued. “It’s just you, you know? There are no other voices around to get in your head, nothing to worry about or stress over, and it’s… free, I guess. I’m free in the woods” He paused for a moment, looking like he was trying to decide whether to say more. Leo ran a reassuring hand down his arm and wove their fingers together.

Logan smiled down to where they connected, took a breath, and continued, “It’s the only place where I didn’t have to pretend. Where I could let myself feel all of the things I needed to feel. Admit things to myself that I never could have when there were other people around. Other reminders of the real world, you know?” He looked up at Leo. “It’s the place where I finally accepted that what I felt for you was much, much different than what I was supposed to feel for a teammate. It’s a safe place.”

Leo was looking at Logan. This impossibly beautiful boy. Logan was looking back at him, evergreen eyes open and unguarded. It made Leo’s stomach flip. He reached out for Logan then, and pulled him close.

Finn spoke up, quietly, from where he still sat. “And that’s what you feel when you’re here?”

Logan nodded. “Ya. That’s how I feel when I’m here.”

Leo watched Finn melt, sliding down the couch to hug Logan from the other side. “That makes me so happy. I want this to always be that place for you.” He whispered, twining his fingers with Leo’s where they rested on Logan’s chest.

“You’re that place for us, Lo.” Leo pressed their hands firmly against Logan’s heartbeat. “You make us feel safe too.”

After a moment, Logan cleared his throat and spoke again.

“Those woods are also the first place I accidentally drunk-peed on a skunk.”

That pulled a surprised, and probably highly unattractive, snort out of Leo.

Finn pulled back to look at Logan incredulously, “I’m sorry, the FIRST time?!?”

Logan just grinned in response.

“Please tell me that’s a real story.”

“It is.”

“Tell it to us, right now!” Finn demanded gleefully.

Logan laughed again as he leaned back into the couch cushions to start his story. Leo took a second to just take it all in. Logan, care-free and laughing. Finn, eyes glowing with delighted anticipation.

He sent out a silent thank you to whatever part of the universe had worked its magic in the last 24 hours, and settled in to listen, arms wrapped around both of the boys.

His boys.

---

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Half-Priced Chocolate

Words = 2.8k

Summary = You hate Valentine’s Day. Nick tries to change your mind. 

Warnings = One swear word

A/N = Reader is described as a similar height to Nick, and taller when she wears heels. Also I didn’t mean to write this, it just sort of happened so sorry if it’s not very well thought out ahaha

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

“You know, I’d pegged you as the type of girl who would do anything to ensure she had a Valentine’s date.” This observation comes casual as anything from your boss, Mayor Wasicsko, as the two of you work together to build beds in the town hall. 

A combination of a lot of snow, an early thaw, and then rain, had resulted in flooding all around the city, many having to be relocated. And so here you were, on a night that most were celebrating with their loved one across an over-priced bottle of champagne, some heart-shaped chocolate and probably something red themed, in the town hall, setting up extra accommodation with Nick. 

Who you should probably call Mayor Wasicsko in your head. 

You’d been here for hours, first building the beds with other volunteers, all of whom had melted away as the night had gone on. All, apart from you and Nick.

“Yeah? Well I pegged you as the type of mayor to sit on his ass all day.” You snipe back, not thinking for a moment, before slapping a hand to your mouth in horror. “Sorry, Mayor Wasicsko, that was really unprofessional of me-”

You stopped your rambling, because … was he laughing?

You flip your end of the sheet the two of you are attempting to fit to the bed, successfully causing his end to yank out of his hands, flying up and causing enough of a breeze to dislodge his hair enough for a strand to flop onto his forehead. 

Not that you’d noticed. 

“I told you, call me Nick. And it’s ok,” he’s still smiling, annoyingly. “I just - you don’t have some annoyed boyfriend who’s sitting at home waiting for you?” 

You shake your head. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” You finally tuck in the corner of the sheet at the top of the bed and move to the bottom. “And anyway, I hate Valentine’s.” 

Nick throws you a pillow and a case when you hold your arms out. “So you hate love? And happiness?” 

You roll your eyes at him, busy stuffing the case, leaving him to struggle with the duvet, gathering the new sheets for the next bed as you talk. “No. I just … I hate the commercialisation of it.” 

You wait for Nick to finish with the duvet, before attempting the next bed. “It’s like … so what? If my hypothetical boyfriend doesn’t get me flowers, and chocolate and some shitty card on this one specific day of the year, he doesn’t love me?” You scoff. “No thanks.” 

Nick tucks in his corner, thinking about his response. “I think it reminds people to be thankful for the people they love.” Oh God he’s one of those. As if he hasn’t managed to drop in the fact that he’s woefully single for the last two hours whenever the opportunity arose.

“Only romantic love,” you remind him. “And,” you continue, remembering more and more reasons. “It’s all over-priced anyway, and it’s just so couples can feel smug while they walk hand in hand down the street, trying to get a table to a restaurant, where the prices have been upped for two people, and so single people, specifically women, can feel shit about themselves?” 

You harrumph again, handing Nick the other end of the sheet. “There is good about it though.” He’s looking at you differently, and you’re not sure how, but maybe it’s because you’re having the first real conversation with him tonight, despite having worked for him for the last year. 

You’d talked before, of course, but it usually had something to do with politics, Nick ducking out of his office to ask your opinion on something, before returning back to his phone and papers. It had never been a two-way conversation like this, never nothing to do with either of your jobs. 

You raise an eyebrow, tucking in your corners as you wait for him to make his point. “What about the half-priced chocolate the next day?” And … he nearly has you. Until you remember a counter-argument.  

“So it’s back to its normal price?” 

Nick looks at you like he’s never seen you before in your life. But he changes tack, which you take to mean that you’ve won that particular battle. 

“And what’s wrong with celebrating love? Even-” He anticipates your response before you do, “-if it is just romantic love?” He grabs the pillow before you can, leaving you to struggle with the duvet this time. 

You’re smiling now, unable to help yourself, as you watch the Mayor of Yonkers, of all people, pick up a pile of bedding. He looks good like this, you think, shirt rolled up to his forearms, collar open, tie left behind somewhere with his jacket. Not that he doesn’t normally look good. 

You’ve become more relaxed too, you can feel it, as though every bed that the two of you have completed has shod you of another layer, making you feel lighter. Your heels are by the door, and you are a similar height to Nick without them, which you’ve never noticed before, either being taller than him, or sitting in his presence. There’s something weird about it, but also nice, in a domestic sort of way, as your stocking feet pad around the beds, occasionally catching on the wooden floor. You hope you don’t get a hole. Or worse, a ladder. 

But you know it’s your mind which has relaxed the most. Allowing you first to smile at his jokes, then joke back, the tension in your shoulders melting away. And now this. A deep conversation. Which you suppose was bound to happen, the two of you alone after the last volunteer had called it a night at 1am and gone home. But love? Really? 

“There’s nothing wrong with celebrating love. It’s just forced, somehow. Like you’re a bad person for not doing it, just because of some long-dead guy who’s now in our calendar.” You finish your duvet, and move to help Nick. 

“I think you’re wrong.” And maybe it’s the way he says it, like it’s the most simple thing in the world. “I think it makes sure that people take a breath and appreciate what they have.” 

He looks so hopeful, you stop the scoff in your throat, instead letting yourself consider his point. “Well it doesn’t matter, it’s …” You pause and check your watch, blinking in surprise. “Fuck. It’s four in the morning. It’s not Valentine’s Day anymore.” 

And then you look up. Properly. 

There’s one bed left. You turn around, admiring all the made-up beds. Ok they could be neater, but so what? 

“Well.” You turn back to look at Nick as he speaks. “Do you want to take advantage of those sales, or not?” 

You blink at him, even as he gestures at you to take the other end of the sheet, unsure if you’re dreaming now. 

***

When you exit the town hall, the sky is the cool blue of pre-dawn. Grey clouds still hang, heavy and angry over Yonkers, a precursor of the rain to come. It’s been a cold night, a glimmer of frost on the ground, but you can already feel that it won’t last the day.

You yawn, rubbing your eyes with one hand, while your other holds your heels. Nick’s thrown his blazer over one shoulder, the tie hanging out of his trouser pocket. “C’mon.” Is all he says as he walks towards his car. 

It takes a second for your brain to engage. “What?” Your voice has become hoarse from a lack of sleep.

“Can I show you something?” And how can you say no, when he leans against the car roof with one arm, opening the door for you, and looking like that?

Inside the car it’s warm, and tiredness sinks down on you until you can hardly keep your eyes open. Nick only asks for your address, which you give him, and then you’re asleep. You wake when he stops the car on the high street, but fall back asleep when he tells you he just needs to pick up some groceries. 

You don’t wake up when he comes back, nor do you wake up when he sets off again. You open your eyes when he gently shakes your shoulder. The sky is much brighter now, the sun peeking over the horizon and you blink, looking at your watch. It’s nearly 7. Which means Nick let you sleep for 2 hours. It takes a second for your surroundings to fall into place, green and brown surrounding you.

Nick’s sitting next to you in the driver’s seat. And in the back seat are his groceries. 

You blink again. Harder this time.

Praying your makeup isn’t smudged all down your cheek, you move to sit up straighter, where you’d fallen asleep against the window. “What … where are we?” 

Nick doesn’t answer until he’s grabbed one of the bags, clambering out and opening your door for you. “We are in one of the city’s finest parks.” He announces, using his Official Mayor Voice.

As far as you can tell, it’s a pretty basic park. The only notable point is the view. You can see the full scrawl of Yonkers below you, as the sun rises to your right, still fighting the storm clouds left over from yesterday. Funny. You’d heard there was going to be more rain. 

As you step out of the car, you put your heels back on, and wince a little. Nick hands you a blanket to carry and sets off towards a clear area without too many trees, and you follow him, spreading the blanket for the two of you to sit on. Nick’s put his blazer back on and you try not to be disappointed, reminding yourself that he’s your boss. 

He places the bag between you, and … it’s stuffed with half price Valentine themed food. Chocolates, champagne, even a small teddy. You can’t help it. You let out a laugh as the two of you sit next to each other, the bag between you. 

“I never knew the Mayor would be a cheapskate.” You’re only half-serious, and you think Nick knows this, catching the glint in his eye as he replies. 

“You’d rather I bought you this full price?”

You shake your head, grinning, but confused on the inside. You must be tired. Hearing that the Mayor, your boss, wants to buy you something for Valentine’s? You must be misinterpreting this. 

“And I’ll have you know, that everything in this bag came to less than what it would be in a normal month.” He winks and you groan, theatrical and over the top. 

So instead you open the chocolate, grabbing the first one you see and popping it in your mouth. “Nice though,” you mumble, without having swallowed your mouthful, savouring the sweetness of it as it coats your tongue, eyes closing as you lean back on the blanket, missing the way Nick looks down at you. 

“Yeah? Worth every cent, aren’t they?” You smile, shaking your head. 

“Yes, Nick.” You finally sigh, giving in. “Worth every half-price cent.” You squint open an eye, waiting for his reaction, glad when he laughs, propping yourself up onto your elbows so you don't fall asleep again. And then you look down, and your eye catches on a bottle of champagne. 

You reach for it, twirling it on the ground. “So Nick, seeing as how you’re the Mayor and my boss,” you start, sure you’re going to get what you ask for, “and we worked all night long, can we have today off?”

You look at Nick to see him watching your face, amused at the long winded way you’re going about this. Finally he nods. “Yeah I think we deserve the day off.” 

You grin widely then, sitting up properly with a burst of energy, and pop the cork. You take the first sip straight from the bottle, leaving a small ring of lipstick behind. You use your thumb to wipe it off before passing it over, the bubbles still tingling on your tongue, washing away the chocolate. 

Nick takes a healthy swig as soon as his hand is wrapped around the cool bottle, and you can’t help but watch the way his throat bobs when he swallows, wiping at a drop that escapes his mouth. 

You turn to the rest of the bag to distract yourself. There’s at least 3 boxes of chocolate, a pack of strawberries, and a small bear. All of them have the tell tale yellow half-price stickers in clear view. You pull out the bear, amused. “He’s cute.” 

Nick hands the bottle back to you, running a hand through his hair. “Got a name for him?” 

You think about it for a minute, before deciding. “Arthur the Fourth.” And you place Arthur at the bottom of the blanket, so he’s looking at the two of you. 

Nick frowns, looking between the two of you. “The Fourth?” 

You laugh, biting on another chocolate. “Yeah. Throughout my childhood, I have had three other teddies, all named Arthur. He will be the fourth.” 

“And you lost them all?” 

“No, I still have Arthur the Third.”  You wash the chocolate down with another sip of champagne, and when you go to scrub away your lipstick again, Nick’s hand stops you. He shakes his head, like he’s having a secret conversation within your public one. 

“Shame to hear about the first two though.” You let him take the bottle from you, watching as he - his mouth - touches your lipstick. You can feel your heart rate raise, thumping inside your chest like a drum. You can still feel the ghost of his hand, warm where it touched yours. 

You look down on Yonkers again, unable to cope. “Yeah, well. It’s how it happens in real life, I guess.” 

The two of you fall silent as the sun climbs pathetically further and further, finally disappearing behind angry storm clouds. Conversation is quiet observations, both of you feeling wrapped up in a bubble of tiredness. 

You lie back down, ignoring how the cold of the ground is seeping through the blanket now and closing your eyes as you take a chocolate from the box which you intend to be your last, and you can hear Nick’s smirk when he talks. “Chocolate’s not too bad then?” 

You just hum, pretending to think about it. “Yeah not bad,” you finally agree, opening your eyes and turning your head to watch Nick as he leans back on his hands, “But it’s not Valentine’s day so you haven’t changed my mind …” 

And Nick’s looking at you like that again, and you could never in a million years anticipate his next question. “So you wouldn’t count this as the best Valentine’s Day date you’ve ever been on?” 

You freeze, what? You decline in that moment to mention that it’s the only Valentine’s date you’ve ever even been on, and you also choose to ignore that it’s not Valentine’s Day anymore, shaking your head. You can’t quite believe what you’re about to say, heart beating faster than normal, blood thrumming in your ears. “I would count it as the best date I’ve been on.” 

And then you’re laughing at the look of shock on his face, quickly stopping when he ducks down to kiss you. 

Nick, your boss, the mayor of Yonkers, is kissing you. 

It takes you a second to respond, shock freezing you where you lie. But then your hands are on his neck, pulling him back down over you as he deepens the kiss, tongue exploring your mouth. His forearm is resting on the blanket next to your head, supporting his bodyweight, his other hand cupping your cheek. His moustache is tickling you slightly, but you don’t care. 

He tastes sweet, from the chocolate. But then, you can taste the bubbles from the champagne, you can taste how cold it was, you can taste the birds chirping in the trees above you, and you can taste how warm the sun’s rays felt five minutes ago.

It’s perfect.

Until the clouds open above you.

It starts gently, and you don’t feel it at first, and when you do, you ignore it, more interested in snogging Nick. Your feet are becoming wet quickly and the rain falls in large drops. 

Nick’s the first one to pull away, and you follow him, chasing his lips with your own, not wanting to open your eyes. When you do, you realise your feet are wet from the bottle of champagne falling over, and Arthur’s looking to be in danger of rolling away. 

You can feel the rain on your head, and the drops are falling faster. You snatch Arthur and the now-empty bottle up, Nick scrambling to get everything back in the bag. At the last second, you ball up the blanket, ignoring how it brings half the floor with it, and the two of you run towards Nick’s car, laughing as the rain soaks the pair of you. 

***

Thanks for reading! Reblog and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

[marvel-ousnesss]

Hand in Hand

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Y/N and Harry the night of the Brits.

word count: 2806

masterlist 

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so sorry for any typos or mistakes. Lots of love 💜💜💜

“Y/N, Y/N!”

You approached the source of the storm of voices with a wide grin on your face. You still couldn't hide the thrill that your fans brought you, nor you could stop yourself from just hanging with them for a bit. You ambled through the red carpet exchanging smiles and posing for selfies until you reached the end of the path.

When you stepped inside, you greeted a few other people who had arrived at the event and went to freshen up a bit so you could pose for some photos.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and grinned widely. You felt like the girl singing covers in her room, yet here you were, attending your first-ever music awards as a nominee —with one of the best albums of the year under your arm.

As you made your way back from the restroom, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, they spoke.

"Well hey, fancy seeing you here.” Harry's voice was raspy, tinted with mischief.

You stopped, turned toward him with an amused half-smile.

"Right back at you,” you joked back. “Do you come here often?"

He exhaled a fruity laugh and smiled at you, finally allowing his gaze to drift down onto your figure and then back to up to meet your own. "You look… wow."

He made you blush with almost no effort but you were quick to cover it up, doing your best to get rid of the tension that seemed to constantly glide around the two of you.

"Well, don't you look 'wow' yourself", you smirked.

It had been going on for a few months now; flirting here and there, hanging out at parties, and even a few dates which you had tried to keep out of the spotlight. Nevertheless, headlines hadn't stopped gushing on about 'the newest, freshest face of the industry' and the 'beloved, eclectic Harry Styles.'

Looping your arm around his you subtly prompted him to continue walking toward the awaiting cameras, where you were headed before bumping into him. He obliged, smoothly guiding you through the crowd of crew members, press, and artists.

After a moment of hesitation, his hand traveled to the small of your back. When you felt his tender fingers against the silk of your gown, you lifted your head to look at him.

"So, what’s the game-plan for tonight?”

“Y’know how ‘t goes,” he explained. “Step one: performance, step two: get hold of all the tiny statues, step three: world domination.”

You laughed, but insisted, “really, how’re you doing; ready?”

Even if he seemed to be perfectly collected, you knew that tonight’s show had his head spinning. This was gonna be his first live performance of the year, and, to be honest, you thought it was admirable that he decided to go through with it after what had happened that weekend.

“‘m just a mess of nerves and excitement right now. Tonight needs to be brilliant.”

He didn’t wanna talk about Caroline’s death and you were ok with it, so you didn’t push on the topic.

“I’m sure it’ll be. The whole album’s just amazing; and, you know, the guy who sings it isn’t that bad either.”

He chuckled lightly, then sighed, “just hope I make it justice.”

You smiled, “you will.”

That’s when you found yourselves between the gray wall upholstered with logos and brand names and the army of photographers equipped with cameras of all sizes.

You both faced them and quickly displayed your best angles.

Offering a smirk as he fixed the collar of his blazer, Harry asked, “what ‘bout you, eyes on the prize, I assume?”

You turned around with grace, so that the back of your outfit was visible, then faced the cameras over your shoulder.

“Well, yeah,” you sighed dramatically. “But, to be frank, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep them there with you looking so dashingly handsome.”

His eyes widened for a second and he let out a ringing laugh, his cheeks reddening slightly. It was truly a beautiful sight. However, no longer than a moment later, he concealed the gentle blush with a snort and a devious grin, which he directed at the cameras.

“I know ’m irresistible, love,” he smirked. “And I hate to tell you this, but I‘m ‘a be professional tonight, no funny business.” His tone was dripping with feigned seriousness.

"Your loss," you flipped your hair.

_______

You guided Y/F/N to the table where your team had been placed. Being honest, she was thrilled to be there with you, but also quite surprised that you had honored the promise you both made back in middle school. When you had first told her about your YouTube channel —after a fair amount of bugging on her part—, she had shown complete support and joked about being your date to the met gala. But, as the met was still clearly out of your league and you had missed the Grammys because of your mom’s birthday, here you were.

She already knew your manager so you introduced her to the rest of them before taking a seat, ready to enjoy the rest of the evening.

The first few minutes were full of laughter and conversation. When the event officially began, you watched the presentations with a gaping mouth and cheered hastily when every award was presented.

Before you knew, it was already time for Harry’s performance. You bit the inside of your lip when he climbed upstage, effortlessly rocking a lace jumpsuit that gave a deific, but simple air to him.

“Can’t believe you turned that down to bring me,” your friend whispered to you.

“Seriously?, my first ever-awards were something I needed to share with you, dork.”

“Awww, friend.”

“Aww”, you mocked, then hit her shoulder lightly. “Shush, let me listen.”

Everything happening on stage was truly breathtaking. You mouthed the lyrics as your gaze followed his every move. His eyes were full of stars and his voice was so flooded with emotion that it made chills run down your spine.

“I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth if he ever fucks up.”

Those words somewhat pulled you out of your daze-like state. Part of you wanted to ask her what she meant, but it was no use. For her, you were an open book, so you didn’t even try to hide how bad you had fallen.

Only with a glance your way, Y/F/N managed to catch the way in which your eyes twinkled when you looked at him and the way you blushed ever so slightly when she brought him up.

You tried to conceal the impact of her words with a sip of your drink, to which she responded with a smug wink.

The following half an hour or so went by uneventful. You nearly fainted when Lizzo performed, and it didn’t get better when you discovered she was but a few tables away from you, next to where Harry had been placed. A couple of categories where presented and the moment you dreaded the most arrived.

Celeste was flawless on stage, and you couldn’t be happier for her. Yet, as you listened to her song, your brows were glued in a frown and the corners of your mouth seemed to weigh a ton. It was time for the rising star award, and then came international female solo —to which you had been nominated.

You turned your head to the side when you heard the scratching of a chair against the floor, and offered a quivering smile to Harry, who had not so discreetly sneaked to your table.

“Hey,” he mumbled, taking hold of one of your hands under the table.

“Hey.”

Celeste’s speech, which ended before you would’ve wanted, was followed by Sporty’s introduction to your category. You tried to stay positive as the nominees were announced.

Y/F/N managed to dodge Harry and get her hand on your shoulder. She gave him an awkward attempt of a smile, then looked at you. “You got this.”

You nodded at her words but, not so deep down, you knew this wasn’t gonna be your year.

“I’m so excited, they’re all so brilliant,” Sporty began.

Harry’s grip tightened on your hand while she opened the envelope, and you barely heard him mumble, “come on.”

That’s when the winner was announced. Billie’s name echoed through the speakers across the place and your face fell for a few seconds.

You were quick to recover and clapped just as eagerly as you had for the rest of the winners, but the smile plastered on your face quivered a bit as you swallowed a wave of disappointment.

That changed when she got to the stage, that’s when utter pride kicked in. While Billie said a few words in acceptance of the award, Jack Whitehall made his way to the table and squeezed a chair between you and Harry. You let out a snicker as he clumsily tried to sit comfortably, then you moved a bit back.

He was given his cue by the camera guy and began.

“Congratulations, to Billie Eilish! Now, I’m just so excited to be here with this power couple who, for some reason, are not officially a couple yet.”

"Glad to have you."

His eyes drifted between the two of you, then settled on Harry. “Harold, you’ve been coming to the brits for 10 years. Not to make you feel old.” Then he looked at you. “Y/N, on the other hand, this is your very first time here.”

"Yup," you chuckled. "Total newbie."

“Sorry for the stock question, but how’s it feeling so far? Kidding, we don’t wanna talk about that, do we? I bet you’ve already got at least five rehearsed versions of the answer to that question.”

You snorted.

“Let’s get to the point here.“ Jack leaned closer to the table, to which you responded by mimicking his posture. “Ever since the ‘Up All Night’ era, when Harold here was just a lad with his little bow tie and a mop on his hair, he’s been a ladies man.

Harry scoffed and waved his hand dismissively.

"And, as such, he can only be paired to someone like you,“ he pointed his finger at you in mock accusation, “my dear Y/N, who has been leaving a fair share of lads and ladies’ hearts broken —including my own— ever since your very flare-up on that strange platform which somehow houses both Rebecca Black’s ‘Friday’ and your phenomenal album ‘Tears of Blade’. However, putting my broken heart aside, I wanna Know… you didn’t come as each other’s date, why’s that?"

Harry took a sip of his drink, "I tried, but she turned me down."

Jack faked shock. "Should I get my hopes up then?"

"Oh no, none of that."You shook your head. "I just brought a friend tonight."

His mouth opened in realization, then he smirked, wiggling his brows. "Not to intrude, but… a special friend of yours or a friend friend."

You threw your head back, laughing, then said, "Jack, this is Y/F/N. Y/F/N, Jack."

"Hi." She stretched out her hand, which the host gladly took.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he gushed.

——————————

You struggled to stay awake in the car to your place, your eyelids didn’t seem to be obeying you anymore and your head was feeling too heavy for you to lift. Harry chuckled when he looked at you, bringing you closer to him so you could use him as a pillow. For the rest of the ride, he quietly hummed to the music playing and did what he could to ignore the feeling of numbness that was beginning to invade his arm.

You woke up when the car stopped and raised your head, scanning your surroundings. When your gaze met Harry’s, you smiled. He grabbed your purse and helped you out of the car, then you both took the lift to your apartment.

"Make yourself at home," you said, taking off your coat and shoes.

"Thanks, love." He hanged his blazer on the rack by the door, together with his vest and the purple pashmina that adorned his neck.

After changing into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, you made your way to the living room and found Harry, neck deep into your fridge. That's when you recalled you hadn't done any grocery shopping.

"Tell me if you find something, my fridge's just sad to even look at," you jested, standing behind him.

"S'not that bad. I mean, carrots, beer, tortillas, we could do wonders out of this," he scoffed, still looking for something worth looting.

After no avail, he closed the door.

"Or… we could order pizza."

He chortled, "Y/N/N, we ate like an hour ago."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

He sighed, letting himself fall to the couch in fake exasperation. "Woman, you’re a bad influence." Now, that was a yes.

You giggled when he ended up sitting on the floor, then taunted, "worried your Gucci suits won’t fit you anymore?"

"Ha-ha very funny." Harry settled on the floor, grabbing one of the decorative pillows.

"C’ mere," he patted the spot beside him.

"The couch’s right there."

"So?"

"So?" you mocked, "you come here." You clumsily sat on the couch, but he grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the floor. You let out a squeal but, taking advantage of the boost he had given you, managed to place yourself on top of him, caging his body between yours and the couch.

You were about to gloat, but he placed a hand on your waist and used the weight of his body to push you back, turning the cards.

"You got me where you want me, what are you gonna do?" When you spoke, your voice came out quieter than intended.

Harry's hand found the hem of your shirt and he began tugging it faintly, brushing your skin ever so slightly. He looked at your lips for a moment, then your eyes.

"'Ve got a few ideas-" his words were drowned by the doorbell ringing.

"Fuck," he groaned, head burying in the crook of your neck. Your fingers curled around his silky locks, then you mumbled, "I have to get up, you know."

He grumbled something else, but you pushed him off you.

You received the pizza and locked the door, proceeding to put the cardboard box on the marble counter. As you cut the tape with a small knife, Harry joined you in the kitchen. Stepping behind you, he placed his hands on your sides and a kiss on the line where your neck met your shoulder.

"Patience is a virtue, Harold," you teased.

"Don't care."He rested his head on your shoulder but his hands carried on with the feathery strokes.

Just then, you opened the box and swiftly turned around, giving him a quick peck before stepping out of his grasp.

"Help yourself," you instructed while grabbing two beers from the fridge.

After giving him one, you took hold of a slice and walked toward your previous spot on the living room floor. "Don’t know bout you, but I’m starving."

Harry followed with the box in hand, after settling once again, he placed the box between the two of you and grabbed the remote control.

You shook your head and scoffed, "all that wailing and you're just as hungry as I am."

"Not my fault that the bloody doorbell killed the mood." He took another bite.

Three beers per head later, as the credits of Dirty Dancing rolled up the screen, the pizza had been discarded long ago. You hummed to the credits song as your head rested on his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hands playing with your hair.

"Thanks for tonight," he mused.

"What d'you mean?" You adjusted yourself so that you were looking up at him.

"Just, you know, "he hesitated, finding the words. "You made sure it was a great night."

Your mouth opened in realization before you smiled, lifting one of your hands to his cheek. “That's what 'm here for." Then you sat up, and joked, "besides, 's only fair to admit that, for a business night, it was fun."

"You break my heart, love" he sighed, "all your business partners get after parties like tonight’s?"

"Nah," you avowed, "just the cute ones."

"I'm relieved, then." He pulled you to him by the waist.

You beamed, throwing your head back, "you're unbelievable."

When you straightened up, after your laugh died down, his gaze found your lips once more and he leaned in. "Can I kiss you?"

Your hands moved up to the back of his neck and, without a word, you pressed your lips to his.

Requests open!

[hokeytheelf]

Ok, Ron Bashing Needs to STOP - In Defense of Ronald Weasley

I just watched a youtuber basing Ron Weasley (for views or just to be funny, presumably) and I hate the fact that no one really cared as much. After everything he’d done for his friend, he didn’t even get half as much as he deserve. Observe:

Ron defended his friends a lot

“Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, “You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy!” and pointed it furiously under Flint’s arm at Malfoy’s face.” - HP2C7 (Hermione being called a Mudblood) 

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” - HP3C17 (On thinking a serial killer would kill his best friend)

“It’s the only way… I’ve got to be taken.”  HP1c16 (Sacrificing himself so the others could go)

"You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?" 

"If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are," said Malfoy. "You watch your mouth!" shouted Ron. "Never mind, Ron," said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy.   -HP4

You’ll be surprised at how many times Ron defended Hermione from Draco alone. There’s more than one in almost every book.

Always being overshadowed by everyone but is still a decent person to them

it’s always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it’s not your fault,” she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously. “I know you don’t ask for it … but – well – you know, Ron’s got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you’re his best friend, and you’re really famous – he’s always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many….” HP4c18

Was he, Harry, Ron’s best friend in the world going to sulk because he didn’t have a badge, laugh behind Ron’s back, ruin this for Ron when, for the first time, he had beaten Harry at something?-HP5C9 (When Ron became a prefect he was genuinely surprised because he’s so used to Harry getting everything, and he made sure after he got the badge to not mention it too much around Harry)

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left -- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first.”  hp1c6

“Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter … Least loved…

He’s always there and always came back

"We're with you whatever happens," said Ron.

Apparently Ron had hoped that this point would come up later, if at all. “Well, I’ve—you know—I’ve come back. If—” He cleared his throat. “You know. You still want me.”There was a pause, in which the subject of Ron’s departure seemed to rise like a wall between them. Yet he was here. He had returned. He had just saved Harry’s life. 

“You've sort of made up for it tonight,' said Harry. 'Getting the sword. Finishing off the Horcux. Saving my life.' 'That makes me sound a lot cooler than I was,' Ron mumbled.” (How is he still so humble?)

My Opinion:

Ron wasn’t just a comic relief, nor was he just a sidekick. If you re-read Harry Potter and try to focus on him as a character, you’d see how he’s overprotective over his friends, especially Hermione. For a boy who had been overshadowed by everyone in his life, he’s a really humble character and a bit lowkey. A lot of people hate on Ron because he ended up with Hermione.

 In the books Hermione is not described as pretty, she’s a know it all with all these little quirks (she didn’t have many female friends too), and we love that about her. Re-reading the books told us that as a muggle-born, Hermione’s life is pretty hard and who defended her the most after everything? Ronald Weasley.  He goes completely ballistic when Bellatrix messed with Hermione. Hot take: Ron and Hermione deserved each other equally. They’re compatible. And Ron, out of all people getting hate for that is ridiculous. 

Just because he isn’t described as handsome doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve to be with a girl ffs. And it’s pretty clear in the books that Hermione actually liked him - ‘Good luck, Ron,’ said Hermione, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. ‘And you, Harry –’ Ron seemed to come to himself slightly as they walked back across the Great Hall. He touched the spot on his face where Hermione had kissed him, looking puzzled, as though he was not quite sure what had just happened.’-  also this ‘Ron, he saw, was now holding Hermione and stroking her hair while she sobbed into his shoulder, tears dripping from the end of his own long nose.’ .-also - Ron had had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron’s.

Of course, you don’t have to ship romione  but to hate Ron for ending up with Hermione is the problem here.

Now about Harry and Ron. How many times did we see Harry being relieved to see Ron? Many. But people tend to overlook that. Ron is like the closest Harry has to a family. Ron has a lot to live up to and he has massive insecurities, being the best friend of Harry Potter while also being in the Weasley family sure as hell could give people insecurities.

And you know what’s tragic? In the books he’s overshadowed by his family, Hermione, and Harry, and yet as a character in the fandom, he’s overshadowed by more. You can get where his feelings came from, really. What’s impressive is that he always came back every time, he’s still the most loyal out of all of them. He went through a lot too, got bullied for his family's income, for defending his friends, and for looking like an idiot at Quidditch.

And the audacity of someone lashing out at Ron for ending up with Hermione, leaving Harry (when we know it’s the Hocrux, really), and for having normal feelings as a teen is outrageous. We need to stand up to Ron Weasley more just like he stood up for his friends.

[the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff]

The Song of the Sea

Here ya go my peeps Chapter 3. Hope you enjoy it.

Masterlist

Remus stood in front of Lily’s door debating whether he should knock or run away. He was not looking forward to the interrogation, not that Lily had to try too hard to get the truth out of him. He had tried asking Sirius how he should explain the whole siren thing to her, but that had been about the most useless advice ever. Turns out Sirius doesn’t know how to ease a human into the siren thing because the only human he knew was Remus. 

“It’ll be fine, he said.” Remus muttered exasperatedly. “No Sirius it won’t be fine because Lily isn’t really fond of sirens.” 

He sighed defeatedly and knocked. His breath hitched when he heard footsteps approaching the door. He relaxed slightly when he saw it was just James, he still had a few seconds to figure out how he was going to explain everything. 

“You alright Re?” James asked. “You look like someone is about to torture you.” 

Remus laughed nervously, “I’m pretty sure I'm two seconds away from an interrogation.” 

James winced in sympathy, “Good luck”. 

“Thanks”, Remus said, “I’ll need it”. 

Remus entered  the house and went to the kitchen. Lily was sitting at the small table, feet propped up on another chair and an unreadable look on her face. “Hey Lils”. 

She turned to look at him, a small reassuring smile appearing on her face. “I’m not about to murder you Re. You can stop looking at me like a spooked goat.” 

“Yeah well”, Remus chuckled nervously, “I can’t help but think you’re about to question me about the other night.” 

She hummed, “well I am curious about that. I heard the singing Remus, and then you came back soaked from head to toe with a stupid smile on your face.” 

Remus made an indignant sound, “I did not have a stupid smile on my face.” 

“Remus”, she gave him an unimpressed look, “you looked like James did when we started dating. I know how stupid smiles look like.” 

Remus felt heat creep into his cheeks, “fine maybe. Maybe I was smiling.” 

“So”, she smirked at him, “what happened to get you smiling like a love struck fool?”  

“One, I am not love struck. And two, that’s a long story.” 

She pointed at him to sit in a chair across from her, “I don’t have any plans for the day.” 

Remus sat down. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But you have to promise you will let me finish before saying anything. Please.” 

Lily nodded. Remus took that as his cue to begin his tale. By the time he finished it had been about two hours and Lily had gone from confused, to angry, to intrigued. 

“Well, I can’t say I’m thrilled about the siren part.” She took a moment to collect her thoughts. “But as long as he doesn’t hurt you,” she shrugged, “he sounds nice.” 

“He is.” Remus stayed quiet for a while, giving Lily time to process. He had laid his head on his crossed arms, his eyes staring down at the wooden table. “Would you”, he lifted his head a little to look at her, “would you like to meet him?” 

“Sure”, she shrugged. Remus noticed the tension in her shoulders anyway. “When are you going to see him?”  

“I don’t know, tonight maybe. Maybe earlier. I should tell Sirius that you want to meet him.” 

She gave him a knowing look. Remus didn’t like it. “What’s that look for?” 

“Nothing.” She waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.” 

They both stood up and began walking towards the door. Lily hugged him goodbye. “Be careful Remus”, she whispered. 

“When am I not?” 

She hugged him tighter for a second longer before letting go, a worried look on her face. “Sirius isn’t Severus. I trust him”, Remus said, trying to reassure Lily.  

“I know. You’ve always been good at reading people Remus, I trust your judgement.” 

Remus pulled her in for another quick hug. “Come down to the beach at nightfall. We’re probably going to be in the cave at the edge of the bay” he said before leaving, oblivious to the worried look Lily gave him before going back into her house.

  He walked across the shoreline until he reached the cave’s entrance. He didn’t see Sirius inside. He tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment, walking to one of the bigger rocks and sitting down. The cold water reaching his ankles. 

He laid down, his eyes examining the stone roof of the cave. He stayed there for a bit, the peaceful atmosphere making him drowsy. He must have drifted off at some point. Next thing he knew he was being startled awake when something grabbed his ankle and dragged him into the water. 

He felt a pair of arms wrap around his torso and drag him out from under water. “Hi”, he recognized Sirius's voice. 

“You scared me.” Remus glared at Sirius, pointedly ignoring how close they were. “I’m convinced one of these days you’re just going to let me drown.” 

“I could never do that”, Sirius said, “I’d miss you too much.” 

Remus tried, and failed, to not blush. He let his face drop to Sirius’s shoulder with a groan. “Can you stop doing that?” 

“No. I like it when you blush.” Sirius tightens his arms around Remus. “It’s cute.” 

Remus sighed, “oh well, I tried. Now I shall die from embarrassment. Tell Lily I love her and that she was right.” 

“Right about what?” Remus didn’t seem to notice the nervous edge to Sirius’s tone 

He lifted his head from Sirius’s shoulder to look at him, “she used to say cute boys would be the death of me.” He paused, a feeling of satisfaction settling in his chest when he saw Sirius blush. “She was right. But she usually always is.”

“Speaking of Lily”, Sirius said, “did you tell her?” 

“What? Oh, yeah. She took it ok. At least, she isn’t coming here to commit arson so I think that’s a win.” Remus answered. Then he said in a softer tone, “She wants to meet you.” 

“And James?” 

“Oh I am not telling James until you have Lily’s approval.” 

“Why?” Sirius gave him a confused look, Remus thought he looked like a puppy seal. 

“Let’s just say Lils doesn’t have many reasons to trust sirens.” When the confused look remained Remus decided maybe he should explain a bit better. 

“A few years ago Lily met this guy, Severus.” He made note of the annoyed look that crossed Sirius’s face. “He told Lily they were friends and, well, one thing led to another. He almost killed her. She hasn’t gone in the water ever since and has no warm feelings for your kind, and neither does James for that matter.” 

“Of course they don't, Lily met quite possibly the worst being to ever roam the seas.” Sirius’s tone was bitter and annoyed. Remus thought  it sounded wrong.

Remus tried to change the subject. “Can you please put me back on relatively dry land?” 

Sirius smiled brightly. “Why would I do that?”, he asked with a teasing tone. 

“Because I’m getting cold and I, unlike you, can’t stay in the water for that long.” Actually it was because everytime he wanted to think about anything his mind reminded him about how nice it felt to be in Sirius’s arms. 

“You are a terrible liar Remus”, Sirius said with a smirk. Remus felt the heat on his cheeks, burying his head on Sirius’s shoulder again. “M’not lying”, Remus mumbled. 

Sirius decided to stop teasing Remus and took him closer to the rock he had been lying on so that he could get out of the water. Sirius got out and sat besides Remus, putting his head on the other man’s shoulder, a comfortable silence settling between them. Remus let his head fall on top of Sirius’s. He stared down at their reflection in the water. Sirius’s eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling evenly, the silver scales of his tail catching the light that filtered in from the falling sun. 

Some time later, after night had fallen, Remus heard someone come into the cave. He looked up from where he was braiding a piece of Sirius’s hair, he had moved to lay his head on Remus’s lap and had dozed off again. He saw Lily wearing a pair of pants and a shirt that probably belonged to James. 

She waved at him before looking at Sirius’s sleeping form and raising an eyebrow, giving Remus a look making him blush a little. “What?” he whispered.

She ignored his question in favor of asking her own, making sure to keep her voice low. “This him?”

“No Lily. I just have that many friends with tails instead of legs”, he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. 

She rolled her eyes at him, coming to sit besides her friend. “Why are your clothes wet?”

“This idiot woke me up by pulling me into the water”, he answered, yanking a strand of Sirius’s hair lightly. The man’s face twitched. He moved so that he could bury his face in Remus’s stomach before relaxing again. 

Remus looked down at him with a soft smile on his lips. “I don’t know how he can move like that and stay asleep. Literally sleeps like the dead.”

A smile tugged at Lily’s lips. “You said he woke you up earlier?” Remus nodded and turned to look at Lily. A silent conversation passed between them, they smirked at each other. Lily looked down at Sirius, he had a soft smile on his lips, she almost felt sorry for how he was going to wake up. Almost. 

Lily locked eyes with Remus. He nodded. Lily got up and kneeled in front of Sirius’s body, pushing him off of the rock and into the water. They heard Sirius gasp, his eyes flying open before he hit the water. 

He came up for air and scowled at Lily and Remus. Both of them were laughing too much to notice. 

“You think you’re funny huh?” Sirius said, grabbing Remus’s ankle and yanking him into the water. Lily’s laughter echoed around the cave walls. 

“You are such an arse”, Remus’s breathing was heavy but Sirius could still hear the laughter in his voice.  

“You’re the one who pushed me off.” Sirius crossed his arms and pouted at him. “I was comfortable.”

“I didn’t push you. Lily did.” Remus pointed at the red head. “It was her idea.” 

“You didn’t stop her.” 

Remus shrugged at him. “Sorry”. 

“You don’t sound even remotely sorry.” 

“Consider that pay back for almost drowning me twice.” 

Remus heard Lily fake gagging. He turned to look at her. “Anything you want to say, Lils?” 

“He’s more dramatic than James. I don’t think I need two of them in my life.” 

Remus groaned. “No. No. Absolutely not.” He looked at Sirius. “We are never letting you meet James”

“What? Why?” Sirius gave him a betrayed look. 

“Don’t take it personally”, Lily answered. “I don’t think the world could survive if we let you two meet. It’s for the greater good.” She gave him a solemn look. 

“Yeah the two of you would be absolutely insufferable together.” Remus rolled his eyes. “James is already a drama queen. He doesn’t need someone to encourage him.” 

“Oh come one Moony”, Sirius whined. “You don’t want me to meet your friends.” 

“Moony?” Lily gave him an amused look. 

Sirius flushed, “Yeah. You know like, Romulus and Remus were raised by wolves in the myths and Remus’s eyes look pretty at night and-”

“You’re rambling.” Lily was trying to contain her giggles. She was failing. She lost it when she looked at Remus who tried to hide his blush behind his hands before remembering that he needed to use his arms if he didn’t want to drown. 

“It’s not funny Lily.” 

“Yes it is.” She said between giggles. When she managed to calm down she got up and dusted off her pants. “I need to get going. I told James I was going to Natalie’s house.” 

Remus hummed, “you should probably go see her then.” He got out of the water so he could walk her back to the cave’s entrance. 

“Bye Sirius. Don’t hurt my brother and we won’t have any problems.” 

He smiled brightly at her, “I won’t.” 

Lily waited until they were far enough so that Remus wouldn’t hear her. “I like him. He’s good for you.” 

“Lily what-”

He didn’t get to finish. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and a hug and then was gone. Remus stood there for a second, a weird feeling settling over him. He shook it off and went back to where Sirius was looking at him with a nervous look. 

“Don't worry she likes you.” 

Sirius let out a breath. “Thank gods. I was so nervous.” 

Remus sat down on the ground and lowered himself into the water. Sirius gave him a suspicious look, “I thought you said you were cold earlier.”

“I was”, Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius, making him jump a little. “But now I’m not.” 

Sirius put his arms around him, he noticed how much shorter Remus was compared to him. He felt Remus hug him a little tighter and bury his face in his shoulder. A shiver ran down Sirius’s spine when he felt a soft sigh against his neck. Sirius let his head fall on Remus’s hair gently, the soft curls tickling his cheek. 

They stayed floating there for a minute content to just exist with each other. Remus lifted his head from Sirius’s shoulder and locked eyes with him. “Hey”, Remus whispered softly. 

“Hi” 

“You think my eyes are pretty at night?” Remus asked, glad he was the one making Sirius blush. 

“Yes.” The soft look in Sirius’s eyes made Remus melt a little. “To be fair, the first time I saw you you were sitting on the sand. I couldn’t see your eyes back then and I still thought you were beautiful.” 

Remus thought back to that first night he had heard the singing, the reason he had been at the beach the night he met Sirius around a week ago. “You tried to drown me.” Remus said in a teasing whisper, trying to control the blush that had taken over his face. 

“Maybe I wanted to keep you all to myself.” 

Remus’s breath hitched. “I can’t breathe under water.”

“Pity.” Sirius’s eyes drifted down to look at Remus’s lips. His eyes snapped up to meet Remus’s gaze, a silent question in his eyes. Remus nodded slightly. Sirius leaned in but stopped a breath away from Remus’s lips. 

Remus let out a shaky breath, his mouth had gone dry. He didn’t think about it. He just leaned in, closing the distance between them, his eyes fluttering shut. Sirius’s lips were softer then he had expected, he felt Sirius’s fingers tangling in his curls. He sighed, relaxing into the kiss.

They were both breathless by the time they broke the kiss, they were so close they were breathing the same air. Remus couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t Sirius. Sirius’s hands in his hair. Sirius’s soft lips. Sirius. “I think your eyes are pretty too.” 

Sirius chuckled lightly. Remus kissed him again, smiling into the kiss. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Sirius said. 

“I hope not”, Remus gave Sirius another short kiss, “I’d miss you too much.”