#somehow we always gravitate back to each other

[edgarallenp0e]

Seems we’re on speaking terms again

[gilbertscurls]

Pillow Wall ➵ Chris Sturniolo

inspired by

The night had been a blur of whispered conversations, laughter, and movie marathons. You and Chris had always been close, but this—this was new. The boundary between your friendship and something more had been blurring for a while now, but neither of you had dared to acknowledge it.

You sat on Chris' bed, surrounded by an avalanche of blankets and pillows. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes darting over to Chris, who was scrolling through Netflix absentmindedly. You were doing your best to ignore the awkward tension that had settled between you the moment you realized the night had gotten late—too late for you to drive home.

“Guess we’re stuck with the classic 'two friends sharing a bed' dilemma,” Chris joked, but there was a nervous edge to his voice. He tossed the remote aside, letting it land somewhere among the chaos of pillows.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to cross any lines, huh?”

Chris smirked, grabbing one of the pillows and dropping it in the middle of the bed. “Easy solution. We build a wall.”

“A pillow wall?” You raised a brow, but the idea made you grin.

“Exactly,” Chris said, already arranging more pillows between you. “That way, no accidental cuddling or whatever.”

“Ah, yes. Brilliant plan,” you teased, adding a few more pillows to the barrier. The wall grew higher, and when it was done, it was a comically lopsided fortress between you.

“Perfect,” Chris declared, lying back on his side of the bed. “Now we’re safe.”

“Totally safe,” you echoed, lying back as well. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, the silence comfortable, but the awareness of each other’s presence just on the other side of the pillow wall was impossible to ignore.

You both tried your best to sleep, but every time you shifted, you could hear Chris doing the same. It was ridiculous, really, how much space you had in the bed, and yet it still felt impossibly small.

Minutes turned into hours, and at some point, your eyes fluttered shut. You fell into a restless sleep, your thoughts still lingering on Chris—how close you were, how easy it would be to reach across the pillows.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was warmth. More specifically, Chris' warmth. The pillow wall, once so carefully constructed, was now half-destroyed, some pillows having fallen to the floor during the night. And somehow, you had both ended up tangled in each other.

Chris’ arm was draped across your waist, and your head rested against his chest. You blinked, your mind slowly registering the fact that you had both gravitated toward each other in your sleep, despite the supposed “barrier.”

For a second, you thought about pulling away, about untangling yourself before Chris woke up. But something stopped you. Lying there, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of him, felt too right.

Just as you were debating what to do, Chris stirred, his grip on you tightening slightly as he woke. He froze for a moment, clearly realizing what had happened, and then he groaned softly, half-amused, half-embarrassed.

“So much for the pillow wall,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

You smiled, your face still pressed against his chest. “Yeah, it didn’t work out too well, huh?”

He chuckled softly, but neither of you moved. The awkwardness from the night before had disappeared, replaced by something softer—something neither of you had the words for yet.

“You comfortable?” he asked after a moment, his voice gentler than you were used to hearing from him.

You nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” he said, his breath warm against the top of your head. “I’m good.”

You lay there in silence for a little while longer, neither of you feeling the need to break away. Maybe you’d talk about it later—what this meant, what it might turn into—but for now, you were content just being close, pillow wall forgotten.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06

[ervotica]

Inspired by the moment in ACOSF when it’s mentioned Cassian likes physical contact. A fic where reader and cassian are besties and hanging all touchy, maybe reader is braiding his hair and the mating bond snaps.

Kindly requested to be tagged if written/published.

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing; cassian x fem!reader

warnings; porn with plot, basically just smut tbh but smut with FEELS (the best kind), p in v, oral (f!receiving), cassian is a sexy bitch

word count; 2.4k

a/n; dooo we want a p2 (and to find out what reader has planned...) i'm planning one in my head so if you guys are interested please let me know! @bxm-1012 enjoy!

Cassian shows love through touch- whether that be an affectionate squeeze, a kiss on the forehead or a playful shove; it's how he expresses love for the people around him.

You often take the brunt of this, being his best friend. You walk the streets of Velaris arm in arm, squeeze into one armchair that really isn't built to hold even Cassian alone, but somehow manages to fit the both of you, fall asleep on top of each other in a heap of skewed limbs after hours of partying and drinking and dancing at Rita's. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

You're really not sure how you didn't see it earlier.

You're lounging in the aforementioned armchair when the bond snaps. Your legs are thrown over the arm and Cassian is settled in the centre, head to your chest as you scratch and tug at his shoulder-length hair, pulling it up into a braid. He tilts his head up, grinning at you through the dark lashes framing his eyes, and the whole world shifts on its axis.

Something stirs to life inside of you, a warmth blooming and spreading and seeping into your every pore; you can feel the way you're tethered to him, the gravitational pull between you.

You go stock still and your lips part in a silent gasp. Cassian's grin grows tenfold.

"You knew?"

"I suspected," he murmurs. He twists his body to face you. "I hoped."

"Oh," you breathe. You can't help it when your hand comes up to trace his cheekbones, the tip of your thumb skimming the bridge of his nose. His eyes fall closed and the bastard tugs on the bond so hard it emits a squeal from you, and you're pressing a palm to the centre of your chest to soothe the entirely unfamiliar feeling.

His mouth opens to break the silence but you're already moving, careening into his chest and burrowing yourself in tight. Your body sags with pure, uninhibited relief.

"You feel the same, then?" he teases.

Your eyes are glassy when you peel your face far enough to meet his stare.

"I always thought I'd have to make peace with it when you found your mate. I'd have to settle for loving you from a distance and that would be enough. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." He softens at the admission- your voice rasping and raw as you lay your feelings bare for him- hooking an arm beneath your own to drag you up his chest until you're nose to nose. "But I guess I can be selfish now, and keep you to myself," you whisper.

"Mm," he purrs, and the sound turns your core molten. "I like the sound of that."

He doesn't waste any more time before his mouth is on yours, lips slanting hungrily over your own; you part your lips in submission, granting him access to lick into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. He rises to tower over you until you're flattened against the curve of the chair, and plants his hands either side of your head to cage you in. His wings flare where they'd been previously tucked against his back. Your body goes involuntarily soft and pliable, heat prickling under your skin at his every touch. Instinct takes over- it's as if it's muscle memory. Giving yourself to him is as easy as breathing.

Your head swims at the feel of his body under your roaming hands, his scent that seems to shift from affection to something deeply primal and dominating. You urge him closer with a whine and a pathetic tug at his t-shirt. How has this man reduced you to a mess with no more than a kiss?

"Cass-" you gasp when his head turns and his mouth latches onto the sensitive spot beneath your ear; teeth sink into flesh and you have to bite your lip to conceal a wanton moan. "We-we should go somewhere... more private."

"Oh, don't stop on our account," comes Rhysand's amused drawl through the closed door. "We're vacating the premises as we speak."

A growl rips through Cassian and searing, unyielding need barrels to your core and pools there; it takes every ounce of willpower to not rut your hips against him and demand his clothes off that very instant.

"Sorry!" you squeak; as quickly as the word leaves your mouth, Cassian's smothering it with another eager kiss. You lose any semblance of control you were clinging to, a moan dragging its way from your chest and into his waiting mouth. A string of saliva stretches and bows between you when he lifts his head to look at your face.

"My mate," he purrs. "My beautiful mate."

Your eyes cloud when you gaze at him through half-lids, reaching down to grab the thick length of him and squeeze. His hips grind into your palm, something deep and almost terrifying loosing from the depths of his chest. It only serves to make your cunt drool.

"Wicked thing," he gasps. "Spiteful female."

You grin, wide and unabashed, before your hands grapple for purchase to tear at his clothes until his toned abdomen is revealed to you; you want to lick every inch of him.

"Desperate little creature, aren’t you?" he teases.

"Shut up!"

His eyes roll when you at last wrench his pants and underwear down his thick thighs, freeing his cock, hard and weeping and begging for your touch.

"Who’s desperate now?" Your brow quirks.

He echoes your sentiments, cadence deep and gravelly with lust. "Shut up."

Your snarking comments seem to loosen the tether he’s kept on his desire to hold you down and have his way with you, and you gasp when thick, calloused fingers curl their way around your windpipe; his fingertips are bruising against your jaw, tipping your head back to bare your soft throat for him. You go boneless in his grasp, eager to take whatever he gives you at whatever pace.

"So you do know how to behave," he muses, free hand coming between your bodies to paw at your clothes until they come away in ribbons, torn from your form and leaving you bare before him.

The first inch of him inside of you is a delicious stretch; your cunt parts and flares to make room for him. He pauses, and when he finds nothing but pure, unadulterated lust in your blown out pupils, he gives you the rest.

Slowly, agonisingly, he drags it out; moaning praises fill your ears as he grants you inch after inch of him until he's seated firmly to the hilt. His fingers are bound to leave bruises where they're curled around your waist.

You whine, fingernails digging cruelly into his sides. He’s so deep you’re sure you can feel him in your throat.

"Cassian."

"Fuck, sweet girl," he hisses. "Usually I’d take my time with you, work you up first until you’re crying. But I need you right now."

The breath is punched from your lungs as he sets a punishing pace; your spine curves and moulds to the arm of the chair when Cassian’s hands venture lower to cup the swells of your breasts. You feel his cock kick up inside of you when he catches sight of your pert nipples, hardening into buds at the exposure of the cool air and the feel of his hands brushing the sensitive beads.

"I’ll get my mouth on you later, baby."

You’d melt at the words if you weren’t already reduced to nothing more than mush from his dick alone. The thick girth of him splits you wide, nestling deep against spots you have yet to discover, pushing you further towards a precipice you’re almost terrified of— you’ve never experienced pleasure like this, to this degree. The insurmountable, unfathomable pressure builds until you’re coming with a scream, your body trembling around his own, cunt clamping down around him to suck him in further.

"There’s my girl," he coos, slowing inside of you to brush away the hair sticking to your slick face. "You’re perfect.”

You whine and cant your hips downward to rock yourself onto his cock, and the bellow that rips through him would have you flushing white-hot under any other circumstances; you’re too far gone to care, a shaking hand splaying against the ridges of his wing until he shudders under your touch. You moan at the sight.

"Now that’s just mean, baby."

You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, gaze flitting up to meet his own with a coy smile. He brushes a slow line with his knuckles against your cheekbone— a loving gesture that has your heart clenching as well as your pussy.

"I love you," he says. "I love you so much."

"I love you," you repeat his words as he smears a kiss between your pinched brows. His forehead presses to yours as his hips rut up into your own. Dewiness clings to every inch of your skin and your knuckles bleed of colour where you cling to Cassian.

He brings you to completion four more times before he reaches his own peak, and only when you're reduced to tears beneath him does he crawl the length of your body, lips grazing over the slick skin beneath him until he reaches your cunt once more.

"Cass-" you gasp; your voice comes out a broken, strangled jumble of noise and he grins wolfishly up at you before licking a broad, long stripe from your spasming hole to your clit. Your back arches and you're not sure whether it's towards or away from his touch, but he stops you short when his fingers curl around your ribcage to press you to the plush fabric of the armchair.

"Told you I'd get my mouth on you, didn't I?"

Everything is simultaneously too much and not enough, and you're torn between grinding down into his mouth and shying away. Pleasure licks white-hot up your spine and you writhe against his bruising hold on your hips when the stubble on his chin scratches against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It's red and angry, swollen from Cassian's undivided attention, and it has tears gathering at your waterline once more. Your eyes are glassy and half lidded and he reaches up to brush the tip of his thumb against your cheek, his head never coming up from between your thighs.

Your skin sheens under the soft lights of the living room, sweat beading across the crown of your skull and your temples; you whine and thrash beneath him until your muscles seize and go taut like a bowstring, and pleasure drags you under once again. You're screaming - comes the dazed realisation - and your chest heaves as Cassian works you through it, offering up sweet praises for your orgasm. He smiles as if he hasn't just given you the best sex of your life.

You're utterly limp, boneless in his firm hold when he lifts your body to cradle you to his naked chest. The bridge of his nose presses into the softness of your cheek, skin rubbing against skin where he nuzzles into you.

"That was fucking amazing," you breathe with a laugh. "We should do that again."

"Mm," he hums. "Don't tempt me."

You giggle, pressing your face closer to his; everything about him intoxicates you: his smell, the feel of him under your hands, the dominating rasp of his cadence.

"We have something else to do first."

"What?" he asks, visibly deflating when you push yourself up on wobbling legs; your knees almost give out instantly. You can feel his smirk forming, burning into your naked form.

"Don't. Say. Anything," you grit. Your fingers brush the carpet when you bend to grasp a slip of fabric, and you quirk a brow at your sheepish mate. "My clothes, Cass!"

"I'll get you some more. Anything you want," he immediately says, watching you through half-lidded eyes. The love swirling in his irises almost has you staggering.

"While I appreciate that..." You lean down to press your lips against his, only pulling back to rest your brow against his own. "That doesn't solve my problem right now."

He snorts. "I like you naked. Maybe you should never wear clothes again."

"I'm not sure anyone would approve of that but you." Your smile is devilish. "Maybe I could distract a few High Lords at the next meeting..."

His teeth bare, a low warning growl reverberating through your very bones. You laugh, light and airy, and Cassian's sure you're heaven sent even as you send red-hot fury roiling through his veins.

"I'm sorry," you trill. "That was mean." You snag his own t-shirt, still predominantly in one piece, and slip it over your head; it lays against your mid-thighs and the scent of him cloys in your nostrils. "C'mon." You beckon him up with an outstretched hand, wiggling your fingers until he stands and slips his fingers between your own. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth. "Um, darling?" A pointed gaze has him grinning in return, clasping his chest in faux disappointment.

"I thought you liked me naked!"

"Oh, I do," you muse. "I'd just like to not scar everybody else in this house for life."

"It'd hardly be an unpleasant sight-"

"Yes, but I'm sure everyone would prefer it if I didn't try to kill them for looking." Your smile oozes saccharine, and then you're nudging him towards where his underwear lays discarded on the carpet. He pulls the material up and over his thick thighs and then he's back by your side in an instant; you preen under his adoring touch, pushing into the hands that slip underneath your shirt to grope at your bare skin.

"C'mon," you repeat, begrudgingly denying yourself the pleasure of sinking into his arms for another round of slow sex. "We need to do this first." You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Mate."

[fraugwinska]

FrauGwinskas Wonderful World of Works

Main Fic

on AO3 and tumblr (Alastor x Reader; #RadioGem📻💎)

Quick-Fics and One-Shots (#fraugwinskawrites)

The Nice (Fluff, Angst and everything in between - SFW)

Pour Decisions - Alastor & Reader Al and Reader have a pun-off, with Angel getting increasingly frustrated

Rainy Days - Charlie x Vaggie Just a little fluff between hells most wholesome couple on a rainy, boring day

Pandoras Box - Alastor x Reader Reader wants kisses - Reader gets kisses, whether our mighty overlord likes it or not (Spoiler: He does)

In Sickness and in Health - Alastor x Wife!Reader When his doe is sick, the buck will care for her. (TW: Mention of death by sickness)

Taking the edge off - Husk & Angel & Reader (+ Alastor fluff) A few drinks too much, and Husk finds himself being hug-attacked by Alastors girlfriend. Angel barely helps. Al to the rescue!

You put a spell on me - Alastor x Reader Reader gets caught singing and dancing by herself by Alastor, just to have him join in - both in dancing and in acting out the lyrics *wink wink*. The outcome surprises you both!

Fake it 'til you Make it - Alastor x Reader When Reader is stalked, Alastor - accidentally - has a most genius idea on how to help them. What could go wrong? (Tw: Stalking)

Mother'O Mine (Alastor x Reader) Mothers Day is hard for everyone in the hotel.... but one especially has a hard time. Maybe Reader will be able to help? (Angst/Comfort)

Worth a Shot (Alastor x Reader; Fluff) Reader has everyone in the hotel pictured, collected in a photo album, captured by her lense. All but one. But Alastor vehemently eludes her phone camera. Will a polaroid suffice?

Past and Present (Alastor x Reader) Alastor gives Reader the most perfect birthday present. Birthday One Shot for @alastor-simp

Gravitate (Alastor x Reader) - soon to come

The Naughty (NSFW - Minors DNI!)

Joke's On You - Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Alastor isn't the only prankster at the hotel. You join in on the fun,matching his energy and turning his solo act into a delightful double trouble. But the prank you want to pull on Angel might've gotten a little... out of hand.

We just have Forever (Alastor x Reader; MDNI) Waking up in the radio demons arms is nice. A little make out session before hell expects you back, is even nicer.

Shadow Games (Alastor x Reader x Alastor's Shadow; NSFW) Possessed by and therefore gifted to @hazelfoureyes What's better than getting it on with your favorite deer demon? Getting it on with him AND his ever-present shadow companion.

Pretty Desperate (Vox x Reader; NSFW) Bribe for @macabr3-barbi3 Vox hates Alastors new assistant who just drools over his friend. Too bad for her that he doesn't want her. And too bad for Vox that he doesn't want him either.

Transient Response (Human!Alastor x Reader, NSFW) When the new and only female sound engineer caught the eye of New Orleans favourite Radio host, she turned out to be quite elusive. But Alastor is always game for a little hunt, especially when he traps his prey in his broadcasting booth.

Antidote (Radioapple x Reader, NSFW) While almost everyone is away for a night out in town, back at the hotel Reader accidentally drinks a potent lovedrug. With Alastor and Lucifer beeing the only two remaining demons mannig the building, they have to somehow set aside their differences to help their darling girl.

Battle Scars (Alastor x Reader, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, NSFW) TW: Dark themes, mentions of self-harm and depression After a fight with Alastor, reader fights with herself. At the brink of relapsing into habits she tried to bury, he shows her that that's a battle sha doesn't have to fight alone.

Master of Puppets (Alastor x Witch!Reader, NSFW) Alastor and reader not only share interests in magic, but in each other. With what the little witch already knew and what Alastor taught her, she creates a gift that turns out to be a very naughty piece of witchcraft.

Heavenly (Radioapple, MDNI) - Gift for @minkdelovely Lucifer is tired. Tired of his domain, of his duties, of being a ruler... of just being itself, really. Ready to break by the circumstances and be put back together by the Radio Demon, who both infuriates and tempts him alike.

Mirror, Mirror (Alastor x Bodyconscious!Reader, NSFW) TW: Explicit depictions & mentions of ED and body dysmorphia An innocent remark from Angel confirms what Alastor long suspected. And he is determined to help reader see just how much more than beautiful she really is.

Sensory Overload (Vox x Reader, NSFW) Valentino's new hire is a genius when it comes to write about sex - but unfortunately, having it proves impossible to her because hell made her senses numb. Not even the moth pimp could get her off, much to the amusement of Vox. When they make a bet about whether or not Vox could suceed where Valentione had failed, Vox takes on that challenge as he does any other challenge. Head on and with full power.

Visions of You (Alastor x Blind!Reader, MDNI) TW: Depictions of attempted SA, Blood & Gore Managing hell without seeing, Reader made a modest living for herself selling books in her little store. A quiet, mostly uneventful life, until a certain overlord visits, interested in the various stock Reader keeps - as well as the little blind mouse herself.

No Hard Feelings (Alastor x Fox!Reader, NSFW) "Don't tell me you don't know?" he purred, a dark smirk pulling at his lips, a slight glimmer of the yellowish hue of his sharp teeth showing from behind them. "How quaint. I'm afraid I didn't take into consideration that you are not the type to make yourself acquainted with the hellish form you took on. Why, you're in heat, darling. A very... desperate and needy one, at that."

The Mini-Series (SFW & NSFW, mind the tags!)

Good Times Series - Alastor x Reader Al and Reader explore which era had better dance moves 1.Going with the times 2.Goody-Two-Shoes

Brat Series - Alastor x Bratty!Reader (NSFW) Reader tests the limit of Al's patience, it's just so fun! But what happens when his patience runs out? Uh-oh... 1. (Un)Holy Tease 2.(Un)Holy Terror

Hard Days Series - Sub!Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Alastor doesn't often feel the need to give up control, but when he does, we know - and we're ready! 1.Hard Day 2.The hardest Day

Actions and Words Series - Alastor x Reader Reader joins a lonely, tipsy Al at the bar for a night filled with much more than words. After the nightly drunken escapade, Charlie and the crew is hellbent on getting Reader and Alastor together. While Reader tries to stop the shenanigans, no one asks Alastor what HE wants. 1.More than Words 2.Louder than Words

The full Picture Series - Alastor x Reader Reader is an artist who draws everyone - just not Alastor. Which bugs him. Majorly. 1.Pictures of You 2.Ripped Canvas (WIP)

AfterLife Series (NSFW) Heavy Angst; TW: DARK themes, suicide, mental/physical torture, religious trauma Reader finds an old radio and with it, a friend. Her only friend in a word she feels shut off of. When that friends vanishes, she doesn't see another way to continue but to take a leap of faith. In the most horrible sense. You have to bargain with something much bigger than yourself, hoping to find your way to the one you jumped for in the first place. 1.Leap of Faith (Alastor x Human!Reader) 2.Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Alastor x Reader)

Beauty is Power - A Smile is it's Sword Series (Alastor x Cheshire!Reader; NSFW) What's more dangerous than one smiling murderous deer overlord? Well, him with a similar murderous and ever-grinning cheshire wife, going out for a little game night. (Please mind the TW!) 1. Game Night 2. A Night to Remember 3. No Place like Home

Our Deer Family Series - (Angst/Fluff, NSFW) (TW: Sickness, Death) An unconventional offer from a gravely sick young woman turns Alastors whole afterlife upside down when she, now deceased, turns up at the hotel with the most unsuspected news. 1.One plus One makes Three (Alastor x Human!Reader) 2.What to expect... (Alastor x Reader, WIP)

Tempest Series - Alastor x Reader (Angst/Comfort, NSFW/MDNI) When Alastors nightmare threatens to destroy the hotel, Reader heads to his room, determined to wake him up before they are all buried in the rubble. But waking a sleeping beast is a dangerous thing. 1.The Eye of the Storm 2.Taming the Tempest

The Alchemist Series (Alastor x Reader, NSFW) The Alchemist, a powerful new sinner that quickly rises up the ranks of the pride ring's top demons and with no interest to join the elite group of overlords, is a thorn in Alastor's side from the moment she sets foot in hell. Chaos and Order just have to clash, so nature dictates The Alchemist and the Radio Demon have to do the same. Too bad that there is only a very thin line between hatred and love. 1.The Principle of Equal Exchange

#SlutSnacks (NSFW Shorts)

Early Morning Pick-Me-Up (Alastor x Reader) Incorrect Alastor x Reader Quotes: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 Lessons in Leather (Human!Alastor x Reader) Let Down your Hair (Alastor x Reader)

Collaborations

DoubleTrouble No.1: Sweet as Cherry Wine - Alastor x Reader (NSFW) Reader has her period, Alastor is a cannibal. Seems like a plan, right? (Alastor POV, companion piece to Reader POV The Blood is Rare by @macabr3-barbi3

Double Trouble No.2: Missionary Impossible - Vox x Reader (NSFW) (Reader POV, companion piece to Vox POV by @macabr3-barbi3)

One Word to lift the Pain of Life - Alastor x Reader (+RadioSilence) Regency AU piece done in the collaborative event 'PrideRing and Prejudice' by Bapples Orchard Discord Server, thanks to the one and only @bapple117

Never have I Ever - Vox x Kora (@macabr3-barbi3's OC) Fluffy One Shot of my favorite Vox/OC couple!

Asks to come (Not in chronological order; Working Titles)

For Reasons Wretched and Divine (Lucifer x Reader; NSFW) Business is Business (Alastor & Vox & Lucifer x Chuck the Tailor) Cheap Tricks and Tasty Treats (Alastor x Reader; NSFW) Midnight Snack (Alastor x Cannibal!Reader; SlutSnack WIP) Beyond the Horizon (Alastor x Reader; Part 3 of the Tempest-Series, NSFW) Stress Relief (Alastor x Reader; Slutsnack WIP) A Friend in Need (Alastor x Reader, Gift for the Coven)

[discofama]

I love how comfortable Adam and Lute are around each other.

I mean, look at this

So they're casually together during the extermination, much like how friends gravitate towards each other when in an event even if they're not talking or doing anything, just because it feels easier than being alone. Or perhaps Lute flew closer because she saw the huge war machine approaching Adam and got a little worried.

Charlie and Vaggie are going to attack them, and look at what they do:

Despite being Adam the one closer to Vaggie, he doesn't move an inch. They don't say anything (besides the shit talk) and Adam doesn't even look at her, he expects Lute will take care of Vaggie with no order from him, even if he's closer.

Obviously Adam is confident and doesn't think Vaggie can hurt him at all, but he clearly trusts Lute to get her out of the way. He probably knows how bloodthirsty Lute is for Vaggie and lets her have her without a word, and Lute complies, again, without a word, leaving him to handle the strongest of the enemies at that moment (Charlie).

So in this second, Adam and Lute communicated in silence. Adam didn't move and trusted her to cut in even if it was him the one under attack, and finally Lute trusted him to handle Charlie so she could fight Vaggie, as she didn't seem worried at all of the possibility of Charlie coming to protect her girlfriend.

They're in harmony. They're just natural together.

He lets her grab him like this and is willing to listen to her. It's clear he respects her and deep down appreciates that she'll keep him from doing something stupid, even if he whines.

She also climbs him? Lol. (Look at how she holds onto his arm 🥹 she's super comfortable with touching him!)

They're always hyping each other up, like in their songs:

(Look at Lute's smug face here 👇, she's sooo satisfied with what Adam's saying)

I honestly believe that they kinda make each other worse, that neither of them would be SO mean all the time if they didn't have the other: a companion who is always backing them up, who agrees on any crap that comes out of their mouth (Lute lets him talk shit about random women and nods, Adam goes along with Lute's homophobia despite seeming to not care that much about homosexuals).

Many portray Lute being a lot smarter than Adam, but I think they're both dumbasses. I mean, we laugh at Adam for saying he never made a mistake in his fucking life, but it was Lute who first stated angels don't make mistakes, somehow keeping a serious face. I think Lute seems smart because she's more quiet and cares about the rules, but she doesn't do logic very well either and can be impulsive too, as shown in the end of ep. 1.

They're probably each other's best/only friend, because they're just so unlikeable. And it makes sense they'd deeply care for one another. They care about that person that stands them and agrees with them and actually enjoys being with them. They're always seen together, hanging out even off duty. They clearly have a lot of fun.

I'll be honest. I ship GuitarSpear, I love it, but I don't know if I want it to be canon for 2 reasons:

1. Lute might be a lesbian.

She is so repulsed by homosexuals that it feels personal. Talking about how disgusting and blasphemous Charlie and Vaggie's love is, or how many cocks were in Angel's mouth and calling him a whore. She cares too much about it for it to not be personal, and I think it makes sense that she'd be a closet lesbian with a shit ton of internalized homophobia. She probably knew about Vaggie's sexuality and held a lot of resentment towards her before tearing off her wings. Maybe she was even attracted to her and was so repulsed about it that she redirected her self-hatred to Vaggie.

2. I think it could be better for Adam's character.

Let's just think about it. This character has a very distorted view of women, he has a fixation on them and hypersexualizes them. So the idea of this horny man, who always sees women with sex colored glasses, being good friends with a hot female below him in the hierarchy with no sexual or romantic interest whatsoever is nice to me. It'd work as sort of a redeeming quality in regards of his relationship with women, and I personally think this man is very redeemable. Let's hope he gets a second chance!

Still! All of this trust and comfort and team feelings can be read as romantic and I certainly wouldn't mind if it becomes canon! They could be the best villain couple!

Summarizing, these two are soulmates, end of the story. They're worse together, but also probably provide the other of a very needed company.

I have no clue if Adam will actually come back, but if he doesn't, I'll feel very bad for Lute. Yeah, yeah, she's an evil bitch, I don't care.

[niallerspayno]

Game Night (Zayn Malik x reader) - Fic Request

Request for @cletumblsblog: Hello, i hope you’re doing well !! Can i send a request about zayn please? We don’t have a lot of imagines about him! Whatever plot just i’d like it if the reader is a part of one direction like as a sixth member? Thank you very much!!

Masterlist

There’s a certain rhythm to your life now, one that’s hard to explain to people who don’t live it. Fame is loud and fast, and you’ve learned to keep up with it because you don’t have a choice. But when you look back, it’s hard to believe how far you’ve come—from a hopeful teenager auditioning on The X Factor to a member of one of the biggest bands in the world.

You remember the moment you first met the boys—five strangers, all nervous energy and tentative smiles, thrown together in a competition none of you really understood yet. The producers thought adding a girl to the group would give you all an edge, and somehow, it worked. What started as an experiment became something unshakable, and now, the six of you are a family.

You’ve grown up together in the truest sense. Louis is your mischief partner, always ready with a joke or a ridiculous scheme to make you laugh. Harry is the one you go to when you need to talk, his calm energy balancing your occasional chaos. Niall’s warmth and easygoing nature feel like home, and Liam’s steady presence and kindness keeps you grounded.

And then there’s Zayn.

From the start, he’s been different. Quiet where the others are loud, reserved in a way that makes you want to understand him more. With Zayn, there’s a comfort you can’t explain—a feeling like he sees you, the real you, in a way no one else does. It’s why you’ve always been closest to him, why your bond feels so unshakable.

The boys have noticed, of course. They tease you both relentlessly, but it’s never mean-spirited. If anything, they seem to enjoy the way you and Zayn gravitate toward each other, the way your connection feels like something rare and unspoken.

It’s a connection you’re still figuring out yourself.

...

Louis’ text comes in the middle of a rare free afternoon.

“Game night at mine. Bring snacks or don’t bother coming. xx”

You laugh, shaking your head at his usual theatrics before sending a quick thumbs-up emoji in reply. Game nights with the boys are the closest thing you have to a “normal” life—just six friends laughing, arguing over board games, and eating way too much junk food. You’ve missed it, missed them.

The air outside Louis’ flat is crisp, the kind of early evening chill that makes you glad you grabbed your oversized hoodie before heading out. Balancing a tray of brownies and a bag of crisps in one hand, you press the doorbell with your free one, hearing the familiar chime echo inside.

It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Louis with a wide grin plastered across his face. “There she is!” he announces, stepping aside and ushering you in with a dramatic flourish.

“Don’t start,” you say with a laugh, slipping past him into the warmth of the flat. The scent of something slightly burnt and far too much cologne hits you immediately, a mix that is uniquely Louis.

“What’s this?” he asks, grabbing at the tray in your hands like it’s treasure.

“Brownies,” you reply, tugging them away from his reach. “But if you keep being greedy, I’m keeping them for myself.”

“Rude,” he says, clutching his chest in mock offense before grinning again. “Alright, come on, everyone’s here already. You’re late.”

“I’m not late,” you argue, kicking off your shoes and setting the brownies on the kitchen counter. “You just like to exaggerate.”

He doesn’t deny it, instead grabbing your bag of crisps and tearing it open as you follow him into the living room.

The chaos is immediate. Harry is sprawled across one end of the couch, lazily flipping through his phone while Niall and Liam are deep in a heated debate over which board game to play first. The coffee table is already overloaded with snacks—half-empty bowls of popcorn, a packet of biscuits, and an open bag of gummy bears that Niall is clearly hoarding.

“Finally!” Niall exclaims when he sees you. “I’ve been starving waiting for you to get here.”

“You’ve been eating the whole time,” Liam points out, rolling his eyes.

“Doesn’t count if it’s not the main snacks,” Niall retorts, gesturing dramatically at your tray of brownies.

“Alright, alright,” you say, laughing as you set the tray down on the table. “I’m here now. What are we playing?”

“Monopoly,” Liam says at the same time Niall shouts, “Pictionary!”

Harry snorts, tossing his phone onto the armrest. “This is why we never start on time.”

“You’re not helping,” Liam points out, but Harry just grins and stretches out further on the couch.

...

You’re just settling into the rhythm of the evening—listening to Liam try and fail to organize everyone—when the doorbell rings again.

“Someone else is late for once!” Louis calls out, jumping up from his seat and disappearing toward the door.

Your brow furrows slightly. You hadn’t realized anyone else was coming. Maybe one of Louis’ friends from outside the group? It’s not uncommon for him to invite a plus-one to these things.

A few seconds later, you hear Louis’ voice, followed by a familiar low laugh that sends your stomach flipping.

Zayn.

He steps into the living room a moment later, his leather jacket slung casually over one shoulder and a takeaway bag in his hand. His hair is slightly tousled, like he’s run his hands through it a few times on the way over, and he’s wearing one of his signature oversized shirts that somehow makes him look effortlessly cool.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Louis says, smirking as he grabs the bag out of Zayn’s hand.

“Nice to see you too, mate,” Zayn replies, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before his gaze flicks across the room. It lands on you, and his expression softens immediately.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and warm.

You can feel the boys’ eyes on you as you smile back. “Hey.”

For a moment, it feels like the rest of the room disappears, leaving just the two of you standing there, caught in an unspoken moment. But then Harry clears his throat loudly, breaking the spell.

“Alright, lover boy, stop hogging the door and sit down,” he says, grinning at you both.

Zayn chuckles, shaking his head as he moves to take the empty spot beside you on the couch. The room shifts slightly as he settles in, his knee brushing against yours under the table. It’s subtle, but it sends a jolt through you all the same.

“You’re late,” you tease, glancing at him.

“Fashionably,” he replies, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Louis reappears with a handful of plates, tossing one in your direction. “Alright, enough flirting. Let’s eat and then play. I’m not losing to you lot on an empty stomach.”

The room bursts into laughter, and just like that, the moment passes. But as Zayn leans back against the couch, his arm brushing yours, you can’t help but feel like tonight might be different.

...

Plates clatter as the remnants of takeaway are cleared from the coffee table, replaced with a pile of game boxes. Louis is already rifling through them, loudly declaring himself “Game Master” while Harry lounges on the armrest of the couch, nibbling on the last slice of garlic bread.

“Right, lads—and lass,” Louis says with a wink in your direction. “We’re starting with Uno because it’s the only game that guarantees drama.”

“Drama?” Niall says, popping a gummy bear into his mouth. “More like guarantees me winning.”

“You wish,” Liam retorts, rolling his eyes as he begins shuffling the deck with the precision of someone who takes game night far too seriously.

You laugh, leaning back against the couch as you watch them bicker. It’s always like this—friendly banter, exaggerated threats of sabotage, and a level of competitiveness that would put most athletes to shame.

Beside you, Zayn chuckles softly, the sound low enough that only you can hear. “Think they realize it’s just a card game?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, smirking. “They’ve been like this since day one.”

He leans slightly closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You any good at Uno?”

“I can hold my own,” you say, feigning confidence. “Why? Worried I’ll beat you?”

“Never,” he says, his smirk widening.

Before you can respond, Louis claps his hands loudly. “Alright, everyone shut up and pay attention! Rules are simple: no cheating, no crying, and no throwing cards at each other. Looking at you, Niall.”

“That was one time,” Niall mutters, earning a round of laughter from the group.

The first few rounds are surprisingly calm—at least by your standards. Niall plays his cards quickly and confidently, grinning like he’s already won, while Liam meticulously plans every move. Harry alternates between playing properly and trying to make everyone laugh, at one point using his draw pile to construct a tiny house of cards.

And then there’s Louis, whose strategy seems to revolve entirely around causing as much chaos as possible.

“You can’t do that!” Liam exclaims as Louis throws down a wild card and gleefully changes the color to one he knows Liam doesn’t have.

“Sure I can,” Louis replies, leaning back smugly. “Read the rules, mate.”

“You wrote the rules,” Liam says, glaring at him.

“Exactly,” Louis says, winking at you. “Which means I can’t be wrong.”

Zayn chuckles, sliding a green card onto the pile. “You’re gonna get yourself disqualified, you know.”

“Can’t disqualify the Game Master,” Louis says, sticking his tongue out.

The room dissolves into laughter again, and you shake your head as you draw your next card. But as the game continues, you notice Zayn’s attention drifting back to you more often than the cards in his hand.

“Your turn,” he murmurs, nudging your arm lightly.

“Right,” you say, focusing on the pile. You manage to play a reverse card, sending the turn back to Zayn, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Nice move,” he says, his tone laced with challenge.

“Thanks,” you reply, biting back a smile. “Try to keep up.”

The subtle back-and-forth doesn’t go unnoticed. Niall points at you both with a gummy bear, his grin mischievous. “Oi, are you two playing Uno or having some private little game over there?”

“Jealous?” Zayn shoots back smoothly, earning a chorus of “oohs” from the rest of the group.

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “He’s just mad because he’s losing,” you say, nodding toward Niall’s growing draw pile.

“She’s got you there,” Harry says, smirking as he skips Niall’s turn entirely.

By the time the final round starts, the room is in full chaos. Liam is meticulously tracking which cards have been played, Niall is accusing Louis of stacking the deck, and Harry is too busy laughing at his own bad luck to care about winning.

You and Zayn, meanwhile, are locked in a quiet battle.

He smirks as he plays another draw two card, forcing you to pick up more. “You alright there?”

“Perfect,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. You manage to play a wild card on your next turn, changing the color to red—the one you know he doesn’t have.

“Bold move,” he says, his gaze flicking to yours.

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” you reply, holding his gaze a beat longer than necessary.

The moment feels charged, like a silent dare neither of you is willing to back down from. But before anything more can happen, Louis slams his final card down with a triumphant shout.

“Uno!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air.

“What?” Liam says, looking genuinely distressed. “How did you—”

“I’m a genius, that’s how,” Louis declares, standing up and bowing dramatically.

The room erupts into laughter and groans, with Niall declaring a rematch and Harry muttering something about sabotage.

You glance at Zayn, who’s watching you with a small smile. “Next time,” he says softly.

“Next time,” you agree, already looking forward to it.

...

The coffee table is cleared once again, now replaced with a giant pad of paper, markers, and a small sand timer that Niall is inspecting with great suspicion.

“Right,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “Team time!”

“We’re calling it now,” Harry declares, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “The power duo of Harry and Louis is unbeatable.”

“Power duo?” Liam says, raising an eyebrow. “You two can’t even agree on pizza toppings.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Louis says confidently. “It’s about vibes, not strategy.”

Niall leans back against the couch, already snacking on another bag of crisps. “Fine. Liam and I are the brains of this operation, then. Prepare to lose.”

You glance around the room, realizing the only person left is Zayn, who’s already watching you with a small, knowing smile.

“Guess that makes us a team,” you say, trying to sound casual even though your heart skips a beat.

“Looks like it,” he replies, leaning back in his seat with a relaxed confidence that makes your stomach flutter.

“Alright,” Louis says, grabbing the pad of paper and tossing it to Liam. “You lot can start. Let’s see what the ‘brains’ can do.”

Liam sets the pad on the table, holding the marker like it’s a weapon. “I’ve got this,” he says confidently, glancing at the card he pulled.

“Timer starts...now!” Louis declares, flipping the sand timer.

Liam begins drawing furiously—lines, circles, and what might be a triangle—while Niall leans forward, squinting at the paper.

“Uh...a house?” Niall guesses. “No, wait, a dog? A cat?”

Liam groans. “No, no, no. It’s obvious! Look at the details!”

“What details?” Niall shoots back, gesturing wildly at the chaotic scribbles. “It looks like a potato with legs!”

“It’s a giraffe!” Liam says, throwing the marker down in exasperation.

“Where’s the neck?” Niall demands, pointing at the stubby figure on the page.

“Time’s up!” Louis announces gleefully, flipping the timer and cackling as Liam buries his face in his hands.

Harry grabs the marker next, glancing at his card before grinning mischievously. “Oh, this is going to be easy,” he says, bending over the pad.

Louis watches intently as Harry starts drawing what can only be described as abstract art.

“A rocket?” Louis guesses.

“Nope,” Harry replies, adding more squiggly lines.

“A fish? A boat? A...banana?”

“It’s obvious!” Harry exclaims, adding yet another wavy line.

Louis throws his hands up. “Mate, I’ve got nothing. It looks like a soggy spoon.”

The timer runs out, and Harry holds up the pad triumphantly. “It’s a roller coaster!”

“That is not a roller coaster,” Louis says, pointing accusingly at the paper.

“Yes, it is! Look, there are the tracks, and those are the people screaming—”

“They’re dots, Harry!”

The room erupts into laughter again, with Niall nearly choking on his crisps and Liam shaking his head in disbelief.

It’s your turn, and you grab the marker, glancing at the card before showing it to Zayn. He nods, leaning forward slightly as you set the pad on the table.

“Alright,” you say, rolling up your sleeves. “Ready?”

“Always,” Zayn replies, his tone soft but confident.

The timer flips, and you immediately start sketching—a few quick lines that form a recognizable shape.

“Tree,” Zayn says instantly.

You nod, adding a few more details.

“Christmas tree.”

“Yes!” you say, grinning as you move on to the next card.

The timer continues, and the two of you fall into an easy rhythm. You draw a circle, and Zayn guesses “sun” before you’ve even added the rays. He gestures for you to keep going, the two of you passing ideas back and forth with an almost telepathic understanding.

“Boat.”

“Candle.”

“Elephant.”

“Bingo,” you say, tossing the marker down just as the timer runs out.

The room is silent for a moment before Niall groans dramatically. “How are you two so good at this?”

“Practice,” Zayn says, smirking as he leans back against the couch.

“Cheating, more like,” Louis mutters, though his grin gives him away.

“You’re just mad because Harry can’t draw,” you tease, earning a laugh from Zayn.

“I can draw,” Harry protests. “You just don’t appreciate my style.”

“Yeah, mate,” Niall chimes in, gesturing at the 'roller coaster' still sitting on the table. “Very avant-garde.”

The laughter continues, but you barely notice as Zayn nudges your arm lightly.

“Good team,” he says quietly, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Best team,” you reply, glancing at him with a small smile.

For a moment, it feels like the chaos of the room fades, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. And when Zayn’s gaze lingers on yours, warm and unspoken, you can’t help but wonder if everyone else notices the shift in the air.

...

The pile of abandoned board games sits in the corner of Louis’ flat, a testament to the group's short attention span. The night has been filled with laughter and playful arguments, but the energy has shifted—restless, buzzing with a sense of anticipation.

“I’m bored,” Louis announces dramatically, sprawling across the floor like a starfish. “We need something with more spice.”

“More spice than Niall eating three jalapeños at once?” Harry teases, smirking as Niall groans in protest.

“Yes,” Louis declares, sitting up abruptly. “We need Truth or Dare.”

“Oh no,” Liam mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh yes,” Louis counters, his grin wicked. “Come on, Payno. Don’t be a coward.”

The group exchanges glances, and one by one, the reluctant smiles and nods signal agreement.

The rules are simple: no skipping a turn, and if you fail a dare or lie during a truth, you face a penalty—usually an unspeakable concoction from Louis’ fridge.

Louis spins the bottle first, and it lands on Harry.

“Truth or dare, Styles?” Louis asks, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“Dare,” Harry says confidently, leaning back with an easy grin.

“I dare you to… serenade your left shoe like it’s your one true love.”

The group bursts into laughter as Harry immediately grabs his shoe and launches into an absurdly romantic rendition of What Makes You Beautiful, complete with heartfelt gazes and dramatic hand gestures.

“Beautiful,” Niall says, wiping away fake tears. “Truly moving.”

The bottle spins again, landing on Liam.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, already smirking.

“Truth,” Liam says cautiously.

“Coward,” Louis mutters under his breath before asking, “Alright, who’s your least favorite member of the band?”

The room erupts into laughter as Liam’s eyes widen.

“I’m not answering that!” Liam protests, but the rules are the rules.

“Penalty!” Louis shouts, jumping up to raid the fridge. A few minutes later, Liam is grimacing as he chugs a concoction that looks—and smells—like regret.

The dares and truths grow bolder with each round. Niall is dared to wear a pair of Louis’ socks on his hands for the next three turns, and Harry is forced to text a random selfie to Simon Cowell with no context.

Then, the bottle spins and lands on you.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, his tone playful but dangerous.

“Truth,” you say, playing it safe.

“Alright,” Louis says, tapping his chin in thought. “Who in this room would you say is your biggest crush?”

The laughter dies down instantly, replaced by an awkward but charged silence. Every set of eyes is on you, and your pulse spikes.

“I, uh…” you stammer, glancing around the room. Your gaze briefly meets Zayn’s, and his expression is unreadable, though his jaw seems slightly tense.

“Come on, spill it!” Niall says, grinning.

“I don’t think I have a crush on anyone here,” you say finally, forcing a laugh.

“Liar!” Harry declares, laughing as the others join in.

“Penalty!” Louis shouts gleefully, but before he can raid the fridge, Zayn spins the bottle, redirecting the attention.

It lands on him.

“Truth or dare, mate?” Niall asks, clearly eager to see what Zayn will pick.

Zayn leans back, his dark eyes flicking to you briefly before answering, “Truth.”

Niall doesn’t miss a beat. “Do you fancy anyone in this room?”

The tension ratchets up instantly, the laughter dissolving into a stunned silence. Zayn’s expression doesn’t falter as he shrugs casually. “Maybe.”

The group erupts into whoops and laughter, but your heart is pounding too loudly to join in. You glance at him, but he’s already spinning the bottle again, avoiding your gaze.

he game reaches a fever pitch when the bottle lands on you again.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, his grin mischievous.

“Dare,” you say, trying to maintain your composure.

“Perfect,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “I dare you to kiss…” He pauses dramatically, his gaze scanning the room before landing on Niall. “Horan!”

Niall bursts out laughing. “Why am I always the guinea pig?”

You groan, but a dare is a dare. You lean toward Niall, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as the group cheers and hollers.

“That was weak!” Harry teases, throwing a pillow at you.

“Not my fault you all love dramatics,” you quip back, though your cheeks burn when you notice Zayn watching you, his jaw tight and his hands gripping his knees.

The bottle spins again, this time landing on Louis.

“Truth or dare?” Harry asks.

“Dare, obviously,” Louis says.

Harry smirks. “I dare you to make this game even more interesting. Pick the person most likely to cause chaos if they had to sit in someone else’s lap for the rest of the game.”

Louis doesn’t hesitate. “That’s easy. You,” he says, pointing at you, “are going to sit in Zayn’s lap for the rest of the night.”

Your stomach flips, and the room explodes with laughter and cheers.

“I hate you all,” you mutter, but you rise to your feet.

Zayn doesn’t say anything as you settle onto his lap, his hands automatically move to your hips to steady you.

“Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Not even a little,” you reply, though your racing heart betrays you.

“Good,” he says softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds, “neither am I.”

The group’s teasing fades into the background as you sit there, hyperaware of every shift of his body against yours.

The game presses on, though your focus is barely on it. Sitting in Zayn’s lap has set your senses alight, and the casual banter and dares thrown around the room feel like a distant hum. His hands rest lightly on your hips, unmoving yet grounding, as if he’s careful not to cross a line.

You try not to think about how solid he feels beneath you or how his warmth radiates through your clothes, but it’s impossible to ignore the steady rhythm of his breathing against your back.

“Alright, who’s next?” Louis demands, spinning the bottle with reckless enthusiasm.

It lands on Harry, who smirks knowingly.

“Truth or dare?” Liam asks, already anticipating chaos.

“Dare,” Harry replies, lounging back dramatically.

“I dare you to…” Liam pauses, tapping his chin. “Post the worst photo of yourself from your camera roll to Instagram. No explanation allowed.”

The room explodes with laughter as Harry groans. “You’re evil,” he mutters, pulling out his phone.

“Come on, Haz, let’s see it!” Niall goads, leaning over to catch a glimpse.

Harry eventually finds a hideously unflattering selfie, complete with a double chin and poorly timed mid-blink. He uploads it with a grimace, and the group cheers as they refresh their feeds to confirm he went through with it.

As the bottle spins again, you shift slightly in Zayn’s lap, trying to find a more comfortable position. His hands tighten instinctively for a moment, steadying you, and the small action sends a jolt of heat through you.

“Sorry,” you whisper, glancing over your shoulder.

His dark eyes meet yours, and for a second, the noise of the room fades away. “You’re fine,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth.

The bottle lands on Niall this time, and the group quickly concocts another embarrassing dare involving a call to a takeaway restaurant, where he’s forced to serenade the person who answers.

You laugh along with the others, but your awareness of Zayn doesn’t waver. Every subtle shift, every brush of his fingers against your sides—it all feels deliberate, though you’re sure he’s as aware of the tension as you are.

“You alright back there?” Harry teases, his eyes flicking between you and Zayn.

“I’m fine,” you reply quickly, though your voice is higher than usual.

Zayn doesn’t respond, but the ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips as Harry spins the bottle again.

The next few rounds blur together in a mix of escalating dares and shameless truths. Niall is dared to eat a concoction of peanut butter and ketchup (which he does with minimal complaint), and Liam is forced to admit which of your songs he secretly likes more than the others.

When the bottle inevitably lands on you again, Louis perks up immediately.

“Truth or dare, love?” he asks, his grin all teeth.

“Dare,” you say, bracing yourself.

“Good choice,” Louis says, clapping his hands. “I dare you to…” He glances at Zayn for a split second, his grin widening. “...whisper something to Zayn that no one else in this room is allowed to hear.”

The group groans collectively, a mix of teasing and exasperation, but you feel the room’s energy shift again.

“Oh, come on, Louis,” Niall complains, though he’s clearly enjoying the show.

“Rules are rules,” Louis replies, feigning innocence.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart racing as you glance back at Zayn. His eyes are on you, steady and curious.

“Go on, then,” he says, his voice soft but laced with something you can’t quite place.

Taking a breath, you lean in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I think Louis is trying to get me killed,” you whisper, half-joking but entirely too aware of how close you are.

Zayn’s low chuckle vibrates through you, and when you pull back, his smile is more genuine than it’s been all night. “Wouldn’t let him,” he says simply, the weight of his words lingering.

The game continues, but the air between you and Zayn is different now—heavier, more charged. The others are oblivious, too busy laughing and shouting dares to notice how his hands rest more firmly on your waist now, how his fingers occasionally graze your sides as if testing the waters.

When the bottle spins and lands on Zayn, the group perks up.

“Truth or dare?” Harry asks, already grinning.

“Dare,” Zayn says easily, his tone steady.

“I dare you to… tell the truth about something,” Harry says, clearly trying to be clever.

“That’s not how dares work!” Niall protests, but Harry waves him off.

“It’s fine,” Zayn says, his gaze flicking to you briefly before he continues. “Alright. Truth about what?”

Harry thinks for a moment, then smirks. “Fine. Truth: Who in this room would you kiss right now if you could?”

The room explodes into chaos again, everyone shouting and hollering.

“Pick wisely!” Louis teases, though his eyes dart between you and Zayn with too much amusement.

Zayn doesn’t hesitate, his voice calm and steady as he answers, “Her.”

The room falls silent, and you feel every pair of eyes on you. Your cheeks burn as you meet Zayn’s gaze, his expression unflinching.

“Well, damn,” Harry mutters, breaking the tension with a laugh.

“Guess we know who’s playing favourites,” Louis quips, though his grin is wide.

The game continues, but it's clear that everything has shifted. Every moment feels like it's suspended in the air, charged with a quiet intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but Zayn. His hands never fully leave your waist, the weight of his touch lingering even when the room is filled with laughter and shouting. You try to ignore it, but every time he moves, his fingers graze your skin, sending a jolt of heat through you.

The group, as always, is oblivious—too busy egging each other on to notice the subtle shift in the dynamic. But Zayn and you? You both feel it.

Niall is laughing loudly at something Louis just said, but his eyes flick to you and Zayn every few seconds. Harry’s not much better, leaning in to whisper something to Liam while occasionally glancing between the two of you with that knowing smirk. Even Liam, usually the most serious of the group, seems oddly preoccupied, his gaze lingering on you and Zayn as if waiting for something to break.

You try to focus on the game, but it's difficult when every time you laugh, Zayn’s gaze holds yours a little longer, his lips curving into that small, knowing smile. When he speaks, it’s always just a little too close, his breath brushing against the back of your neck.

"Your turn," he says softly, nudging you lightly with his knee as the bottle spins to land on you again.

You blink, suddenly realizing everyone’s eyes are on you. "Right," you say, clearing your throat and forcing your voice to stay steady. “Truth or dare?”

You throw the question out almost absentmindedly, not quite able to look him in the eye, but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles, that infuriatingly attractive, cocky smile that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

"Dare," he says with a calm confidence that only makes the tension rise further.

You take a deep breath. "I dare you to… kiss the person closest to you."

The room goes deathly silent. The group stares at you with wide eyes, and even Zayn seems taken aback for a split second.

You feel your pulse quicken, but you try to keep your expression neutral. Everyone knows what’s happening here. This is the dare that will either shatter the tension or make it unbearable. You’ve just forced him into the ultimate move—or the ultimate escape.

Zayn shifts, his eyes glancing between you and the others, but his hand never leaves your waist. Slowly, he leans forward, and his breath skims the back of your neck. You can feel his lips against your skin as he leans in, his movements slow, deliberate.

You can’t breathe.

And then, just when you think he’s going to do it—kiss you—he pulls back.

The room collectively exhales, and you feel a strange sense of relief mixed with disappointment that you can’t explain. Zayn’s eyes never leave yours as he sits back, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Guess that’s not what you meant, is it?" he murmurs, voice hushed but teasing.

The others are grinning, trying to suppress laughter, but the atmosphere is still thick, charged with unspoken words. You force a laugh, though it feels tight in your chest.

"Guess not," you reply, trying to make the moment feel less heavy than it is.

But Zayn’s gaze remains steady, and you swear you can feel the weight of his stare even as the group moves on.

The next few rounds are a blur, the group cycling through dares and truths like clockwork, but the tension never quite dissipates. Niall and Louis are daring each other to do ridiculous things, but their laughter doesn’t quite reach you. You’re aware of every shift in Zayn’s body beneath you, the steady beat of his heart that you can almost feel through the thin fabric of his shirt.

You’re both playing it cool, but neither of you is fooling anyone.

Louis, ever the instigator, finally decides it’s time to push the envelope.

“Alright, alright,” he says loudly, his voice filled with amusement. “Enough games. We all know the two of you have been circling each other for months. It’s time to get this out in the open.”

You freeze. The room goes deathly silent again, and your stomach drops.

“What do you mean?” Zayn asks, his voice a mix of disbelief and something else—something raw.

“Oh, come on, mate,” Louis says, gesturing between you and Zayn like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone knows you two have been ridiculously obvious about it.”

The rest of the boys are grinning now, and you can feel Zayn’s eyes on you, but you can’t quite meet his gaze. Instead, you look at Louis, trying to muster some semblance of composure.

“Don’t you dare start, Louis,” you warn, but your voice comes out more breathless than you intended.

“Don’t try to act all innocent now,” Louis teases, his grin widening. “I see the way you two look at each other when no one’s looking. It’s been obvious since the first time you shared a bottle of tequila in Barcelona.”

You’re trying not to panic, but the words sting more than you’d expected. The others are still laughing, but Zayn’s expression remains unreadable. You can feel him shift beneath you, his body tense now, as if bracing for something.

“I think it’s time you two finally admit it,” Louis presses, his eyes flicking between you and Zayn. “Who’s going to say it first?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You know exactly what he’s trying to do—he’s pushing you to crack, to finally admit what everyone already knows.

But it’s harder than that.

You open your mouth to speak, but Zayn interrupts.

“I think it’s time you shut up, Tomlinson,” Zayn says, his voice sharper than it’s been all night. There’s an edge to it, something that makes everyone stop and look at him.

The room goes still, and for a second, everything hangs in the balance. Your heart races, and you realize that Zayn is staring at you now—really staring at you, like he’s trying to figure something out.

He’s not backing down, and neither are you. The challenge hangs in the air between you both, thicker than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Maybe I will,” Louis says, his grin faltering slightly. “But you two have to deal with the fallout.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. The game is forgotten, the laughter drowned out by the weight of unspoken words. And finally, it hits you—you can’t pretend anymore.

Not with him sitting so close. Not with everyone watching.

The air is thick with anticipation as Louis’ words hang in the room. The boys are all grinning, clearly enjoying the show, but there’s a nervous energy swirling between you and Zayn that refuses to let up.

You try to deflect, wanting to push the moment aside, but you can feel the heat of Zayn’s gaze like a physical touch. His eyes are locked on you, steady and intense, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to read you or if he’s just waiting for you to say something.

"Come on, Y/N," Niall teases, leaning forward. "You’ve gotta admit it’s pretty obvious."

Zayn shifts underneath you, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if he’s trying to anchor you both. You can feel his pulse beneath his skin, a soft thrum that matches your own, but you refuse to let yourself acknowledge the overwhelming need to close the distance between you.

"I think Zayn’s been giving us the silent treatment on purpose," Louis continues, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Trying to keep the mystery, eh?"

Zayn's lips curl up at the corners, but there’s no humor in it, only tension. His gaze flicks between you and Louis, and for a second, it feels like the whole room is holding its breath.

"Shut up, Louis," Zayn finally mutters, his voice deeper than before, more serious.

But Louis is relentless. “Oh, come on, mate, it’s obvious! We’re all practically begging for you two to finally admit what’s going on. I mean, it’s only a matter of time before—”

Before he can finish, Zayn moves, his hand sliding down to your hip and pulling you closer, just enough to make your breath catch. The action is so sudden, so deliberate, that you freeze, every nerve in your body awake to the heat and weight of him behind you.

“Enough,” Zayn says quietly, his voice a sharp contrast to the chaotic energy around you. He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks just for you. “If you want me to admit something, Y/N… maybe it’s time you say it first.”

The words hang in the air, impossibly close, like a dare but also an invitation. Your heart races in your chest, the sound of it nearly deafening in the silence that follows.

You don’t know what to say at first, your mind racing to catch up with what’s just happened. You’re suddenly painfully aware of how close Zayn is, of the way his breath moves against your skin, of the feeling of his body beneath you. Your palms are clammy against your knees as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you waiting for?” Zayn murmurs, his voice low and rough, his thumb tracing small circles on your side, the movement casual but deliberate.

You know he’s teasing, but there’s something else in his eyes—something vulnerable, something raw, like he’s finally ready for this to break, to get it out in the open. And God, do you want it too.

The room around you seems to vanish, the others’ teasing and joking falling away as you focus solely on Zayn. He’s no longer the same guy you’ve known for years—the one with the smirk and the quick jokes. He’s real now. Present. Vulnerable.

You feel yourself leaning in, barely noticing it, until your lips are dangerously close to his, so close that you can feel the heat between you. Your breath mingles with his, and you know that the teasing from the others has stopped, that this is no longer a game—it’s just you and Zayn.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you finally whisper, your words barely audible. “You know it’s not just me, right?”

He inhales sharply at your words, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second. “I’ve always known, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice almost a rasp. “I didn’t want to complicate things. But I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the room feels smaller, the world narrowing until it’s just the two of you, finally laying it out in the open. The tension between you—years of unspoken words, shared glances, moments of near-confession—finally breaking.

“I think we’ve been complicating it for too long,” you murmur, finally meeting his eyes with the full weight of your feelings.

Zayn exhales slowly, his lips curving into a small, almost relieved smile. “So… this is it then?” he asks, his voice quiet but teasing.

You nod, the uncertainty finally giving way to a quiet confidence. “Yeah, this is it.”

For a moment, everything feels still—like you’re both suspended in time. And then, with no more words left to say, Zayn closes the small distance between you, his lips crashing into yours with a gentleness that somehow makes everything feel even more intense.

It’s not like the games, not like the teasing. It’s slow, deep, and long-overdue. The kiss is everything you’ve been holding back, every moment of shared tension now unspooled, leaving nothing but honesty in its wake.

When Zayn pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing a little faster now, your hands still tangled in the fabric of his shirt.

“I think this is going to make things a little less complicated,” Zayn says, his voice soft, his smile crooked but genuine.

You laugh softly, unable to help yourself. “Yeah. I think it will.”.

But just as the weight of your confession settles between you, the world around you comes rushing back. The others are staring at you both—gaping, wide-eyed, and grinning.

Louis is the first to speak, breaking the stunned silence. “Well, finally,” he says with a teasing smirk, though there’s something more sincere in his voice now. “We’ve all been waiting for that for ages.”

Niall, who’s been watching with a goofy grin on his face, lets out a soft chuckle. “Couldn’t have made it more obvious if you tried,” he adds, nudging Liam, who’s sitting next to him. “I mean, come on. The way you two look at each other? Ridiculous.”

Liam’s still looking at you and Zayn, his eyes wide and full of disbelief. “So, you’re really…?” His voice trails off, but his smile says it all. There’s something warm, supportive, in his tone, though it’s clear he’s still processing everything.

“You guys are a joke,” Harry finally says, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “We all knew. You’ve been driving us crazy for months now.” He grins, leaning back and crossing his arms. “But I have to admit, I’m kind of relieved. Now we don’t have to watch you two tiptoe around each other anymore.”

The others are laughing, and it’s clear they’re not laughing at you or Zayn, but with you both. There’s no judgment, no teasing edge to their words—only amusement and a sense of satisfaction that the tension between you and Zayn has finally been lifted.

“You two seriously need to stop with the subtle flirting,” Louis adds, his voice full of teasing affection. “It was cute at first, but now it’s just painful to watch.”

You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. It’s a relief to know that the boys aren’t upset or shocked, that they’re not seeing this as something that will ruin the dynamic of the group. They’ve all seen it, too—the way Zayn and you have always gravitated toward each other, the way you’ve always been in sync. And now, it’s finally out in the open.

Zayn squeezes your waist again, and you smile at the small, private gesture. His hand feels natural there, like it’s always been meant to be.

"Couldn’t agree more," Zayn says, his voice still a little rough, but now filled with a quiet confidence. He looks at the boys with a grin. “I think I’ve been pretty patient about it. Don’t you?”

The boys all laugh again, and for a second, you feel like you’re all just a group of friends again—no more tension, no more uncertainty. Just the bond you’ve always shared, now stronger than ever.

“Yeah, definitely,” Harry says, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I think we’re all just glad you finally figured it out.”

Niall raises his glass, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “To Zayn and Y/N, finally getting their act together,” he says, his voice light but sincere.

The group laughs and raises their drinks, and you can feel the weight of their support and love, even as the teasing continues. It’s a strange relief, knowing that this won’t change anything. It won’t mess up the group dynamic. In fact, it feels like the opposite.

“We should’ve just made it a dare,” Louis adds, his grin still wide. “I mean, we all knew it was inevitable.”

Zayn rolls his eyes but leans back against the couch, his hand never leaving your side. “Yeah, Louis, well… sometimes it’s better when you let things happen on their own.”

“Sure, sure,” Louis says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever you say, mate.”

You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. It’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. There’s no more guessing, no more second-guessing every look or touch. You and Zayn are finally on the same page.

“So, now that that’s out of the way,” Harry says, breaking the moment with a wide grin, “what’s next for you two?”

You glance at Zayn, who’s looking back at you with a quiet smile on his face. “Maybe we can start by not pretending we’re not into each other?” you suggest playfully, earning a laugh from the group.

Zayn nods, his hand now resting comfortably around your shoulders. “Sounds good to me.”

And just like that, the boys are back to their usual selves—teasing, joking, and enjoying the rare moment of peace between them. But even with the lighthearted banter around you, you can’t help but feel a sense of calm. Everything feels right now. You and Zayn have finally crossed that line, and the world feels like it’s just a little bit more in sync.

Louis, Niall, Liam, and Harry all exchange knowing glances, their grins never fading, and you can tell this moment will be one you’ll look back on with a smile. Maybe it was a long time coming, but now that it’s out in the open, nothing will ever be the same—and somehow, that feels just perfect.

[7ndipity]

Dating Namjoon headcanons

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, teeny bit of angst

A/N: I realized that I hadn't written anything for Joon in a hot minute, so let's change that, shall we?

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Namjoon feels like one of those early 2000s romance movies.

Utterly frustrating but soo worth it.

He talks a lot of hype in his songs, but I think when he first meets someone he's really into, he's a fucking mess.

Like it's Joon, but it's Joon, you know what I mean?

Red ears, stumbling over his words(and feet), getting flustered every other sentence.

Probably walked into a wall while distracted talking to you.

Don't get me wrong tho, once he gets the butterflies to chill and gets comfortable, the rizz is BACK and in full force.

Big on eye contact

Stares at you with absolute heart eyes(if you've seen that clip of him watching Hobi from Bon Voyage, you know what I'm talking about)

But can flip the switch in the blink of an eye, and be looking at you like he's gonna eat you alive(we love a duality king)

Simp Romantic. Will randomly bring you flowers just cause he was thinking about you(but he's always thinking about you, so why was today any different?)

Writes soo many songs/lyrics about you, but rarely tells you about them directly. He just asks if you wanna hear something he's been working on, and then sits back and watches your faves as you catch the hidden meanings and references. At the end, he's just sitting there, grinning, asking "You like it?"

(Like, yes, I like it you fucking dork!)

Always remember important dates like birthdays and anniversaries( first date, first kiss, everything)

Museum and bookstore dates are a given.

Buying/sharing books with you is probably one his favorite forms of intellectual intimacy, because, for him, each one is a glimpse into your mind.

If you mention one of your favorite titles and he hasn't read it, he's gonna find it asap.

Would try to get you to workout with him and be gym buddies.(I don't know if I like or hate that idea tho?)

Random texts at 1am asking if you're up and wanna hang out?(may or may not be outside your place already, cause he's over-eager and forgot to text earlier)

Endless, late night talks about everything from music to the meaning of life to what jelly bean flavor is superior(it's watermelon)

Also random trips together. Could be to the beach, could be to Sweden, who knows? You bring out his spontaneity and are one of the only people who can get him to take a vacation anyway.

He is a workaholic though, so you have to look out for him sometimes, make sure he eats, sleeps, touches grass, etc.

You probably bicker and butt heads a lot, but y'all make sure it never gets out of hand and try to find a solution.

(Lowkey possessive, but won't admit it)

Not a fan of pda, but he *clings*.

He tries to be subtle about it, but fails because it's like there's a gravitational pull between the two of you from the way he's constantly within arm's reach wherever you are.

Same goes for when you're alone. He's not technically cuddling you, but he always somehow ends up pressed to your side or back, or has a hand on you in some way.

Another member of the 'Protective Squad'. Like, if anyone so much as looks in your direction the wrong way, he's got the death glare locked on them.

Pretty classic when it comes to nicknames for you. Things like 'honey', 'baby', 'jagi'. Adds 'my' in front of any of them when he's in the mood to fluster you.

Which reminds me, he is the BIGGEST FUCKING TEASE ISTG.

He knows exactly what riles you up, and then just gives you these soft, sweet little kisses like you're not about to combust. Has the nerve to then smirk and call you needy(I wanna fight him)

Finds the most random things you do attractive. The way you read. The way you make your coffee. The weird little face you make when your flipping through Netflix.

Although he seems a bit cautious, I actually think a relationship with him might move pretty fast. Like, he's fighting back from asking you to move in with him after five or six months type of fast.

Lives for domesticity with you.

Quiet, sleepy mornings together. Messy hair and glasses over tired eyes, resting against your shoulder as he brings you coffee while you cook breakfast.

I know he said he's not sure abt kids anymore, but I do see him possibly getting a pet with you to 'round out the household'. Something quiet and low maintenance though, like a couple hermit crabs.(would probably name one after a favorite artist/author and then name the other smth random like 'blue')

Again, I don't know how to end these. Just love him, please.

[remuswriting]

I WANT TO PROMISE YOU ETERNITY; KUROO TETSUROU

Kuroo finds a letter you never meant for him to read.

TAGS: Epistolary; Love Confessions; Pining; University AU; Male Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,846 words

NOTES: Let's hope my days of writing love letters back in high school somehow translates to now. They're both yappers but they're just guys in love, so it's okay. One day I'll write an actual fic for Kuroo, but today is not that day.

Also, I don't think pronouns are mentioned, but this is mlm. Two pathetic, down bad men in love with each other. (It makes it more enjoyable knowing that)

Dear my love,

The anonymity of calling you my love is exciting, but it’s also heart wrenching in the way that you don’t know how I think about you. You don’t know how I sit next to you praying to every God that you will look at me how I look at you; with love in your heart and desperation for me in your veins. Some days I feel like I need to be embarrassed for the intensity of these feelings, but I can’t be when you’re involved. You are the one thing my heart wants, and I accepted it long ago.

Do you remember the day everyone came over to my apartment to drink shitty beer and watch terrible movies? You and I gravitated towards each other, finding our spots next to each other like we always had. Four years of knowing each other, and the spots in my living room are assigned at this point. It brings me joy that you accepted the assigned seat next to me without hesitation. It makes me feel wanted.

But that night we got drunk and laid on the bathroom floor since you couldn’t stop throwing up. You’ve never been able to hold your alcohol, even though you constantly say you can. Whenever I pull your glass away, you reach for it as you tell me this time is different. I never believe you, but I still indulge you because I can’t stand seeing you pout. That night had been like any other, though, where you had begged me to let you have another drink and I caved like the pathetic man I am. So, we laid on the bathroom floor, staring at the ceiling, and that’s when you asked me about reincarnation.

“Do you believe in it?” you asked, and I remember looking at you. Your side profile is so stunning, especially when your hair is out of your face. It makes it easier to see the light freckles from the sun underneath your eyes.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought much of it.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time, and I looked back at the ceiling. We stuck glow in the dark stickers up there years ago when Bokuto-san complained about how scary my apartment could be at night. Akaashi-san corrected him, saying that Bokuto-san is simply scared of the dark and that was it. I didn’t mind putting the stars up, really it matches me in a way, and I never took them down, especially after you grew fond of looking up at them as if they were real.

“I think I do,” you said, and I felt you looking at me before I saw it. “I think reincarnation happens until we find our soulmate.”

I’ve always loved your eyes, the hazel of them so striking it takes me by surprise every time. They were focused on me and nothing else. It was just a little hard to breathe.

“Or what if we reincarnate so we can spend more time with our soulmate? What if it’s meant to give us all the time in the universe to relearn them and love them again and again?” I asked, and I didn’t really believe what I was saying. I was still tipsy, but the idea of you really listening to me was intoxicating.

You slowly nodded, as if you’ve never considered that before. “I think I prefer that way more,” you said with a faint smile. “You know, being able to love the one you’re meant to in every lifetime. It sounds better than being lonely for who knows how long.”

I hummed in agreement, but I wanted to tell you that I didn’t care about reincarnation if it meant you weren’t the one I’d love for countless lifetimes. Honestly, I think I’d damn my soulmate before I ever stopped loving you, no matter when or where we met. Ever since we met in Japanese Literature our second year of university, I knew you would consume my entire heart and soul, never letting go even if you didn’t even know you were holding on.

Our conversation ended there when you quickly sat back up and grabbed the toilet seat to throw up. I hurried to your side to make sure your hair didn’t get in the way, because although I’d clean the vomit out of your hair, I wasn’t eager to do it.

But I’ve been thinking about soulmates and reincarnation ever since, and I have things I want to say but don’t know how to. I’ve never known how to bring things up to you without the fear that I’m revealing my feelings for you. What I feel for you is desperation to be seen and loved. I want to hold your attention to where you can’t look away and pray that you never have to. Hold me close to you, kissing my forehead before placing your chin on top of my head. I know my hair would tickle your nose, and you’d feel the urge to pull away but find you can’t.

I don’t know if we’re soulmates, and it’s okay if we’re not, but I would pick you over anyone the universe assigned to me. If I were to have someone else, then it’s clear the universe doesn’t know me or my heart well enough to know it’s you, Tetsurou. You’re the person who I’d choose in a million lifetimes. You’re the person I’d be reincarnated for centuries just so I could see you smile once. The concept of it being anyone else is so ridiculous to me, because I fell hard and fast for you. Our friends tell me to make my move, that maybe you feel the same, but I can’t. I resign myself to writing these letters and imagining a world where one of us confesses because I don’t know if it’ll ever happen in this one.

Any confession between us will have to be from you, because the words are always lodged in my throat. I could never confess through a letter, because I don’t want you to know how deeply I love you. Or at least I don’t want you to know yet. Maybe one day you’ll confess and eventually I’ll share the entirety of my heart with you like I want to. It’s a dream I doubt I’ll ever see come true.

Just know that if soulmates exist, then you’re the one I’d pick. I would intertwine my soul with yours for the rest of eternity if I could, just so we would always meet in every lifetime.

With love,

Y/N

Dear Y/N,

Bokuto found this letter and saw my name written at the bottom. He didn’t read it, but he gave it to me to read. Don’t be mad at him, because he didn’t know what he was doing. All he thought was that he was giving me something that belonged to me, even though that’s not what this is. I am not gifted with words like you are. You’re able to convey feelings in a way I don’t think I even know how to, but I’ll try. I’m really going to try.

My crush on you started three weeks into knowing you. We ran into each other at the library when I was looking for a table and you had all of your stuff spread across one. I recognized you from class, so I asked if I could sit with you. Honestly, I was terrified that you’d tell me to go away, even though you didn’t seem like that kind of person. Instead, you smiled and moved your stuff over so I could sit down. That’s when you officially asked my name, and the way you said it made my heart do flips.

Although I don’t entirely remember the conversation about reincarnation, which I doubt you’ll be surprised if I don’t remember since I forget half of what happens when I’m drunk, I believe in us. I don’t really care about soulmates and reincarnation if I have you, because being fulfilled in this life is more important to me than in the previous or future. I just know I want to spend this life with you for as long as I can. Even if it’s full of laying on the bathroom floor drunk or going to those festivals you love so much or going to the library and watching you study for hours on end. I don’t care what we fill it with as long as it’s filled with you.

Kenma constantly tells me that I need to get my head out of my ass and talk to you, but I don't know how. You’re someone I care about so much, and I don’t want to lose you. The idea of losing you scares me so much I feel sick if I think about it for too long. So I’ve kept all these feelings to myself, even though I’ve known how I feel.

I remember when I realized I loved you. It was at the library again, but this time you had come looking for me. I’d been there for I don’t know how long, running off no sleep and not eating for way too long. You stomped over to my table and gave me a look that scared me. I really thought you were going to kill me for a second, if I’m being honest. But then you started putting my stuff up and said, “We’re leaving.”

I fought with you over it, and we nearly got kicked out of the library, but you didn’t flinch. You just continued on, putting my stuff in my backpack, and the moment I realized I loved you was when you looked at me and asked me when the last time I ate was, and when I didn’t have an answer, you said “that’s exactly why we’re leaving.” My friends care about me, I know they do, but they’ve never cared for me the way you do. They never marched into the library because I wasn’t answering their texts or calls and wasn’t eating or sleeping. Did they show their concern? Yes, but not like you did. I wanted to feel loved like that for the rest of my life.

So, please call me your love. Please tell me how you feel, because I’ve felt this way for so long that it’s grown painful at this point holding it in. I don’t know how to tell you in beautiful words like you can, but I love you, Y/N. I love you so much, it may be just a little embarrassing. I just never knew I could say it aloud without the fear of it ruining everything. Now I know it won’t ruin anything. It’ll actually be the start of something I’ve been wanting for so long.

I will be at our spot in the park on Wednesday at 13:00. Please meet me there so we can actually talk in person, because letters make it difficult to kiss you and hug you.

With love,

Tetsurou

[lafortezaboy]

hii could we have poly sophia and lara gf headcanons if ur comfortable!

i got you! this does lean towards a 7th member au, just keep that in mind!

getting together

honestly you aren't sure at what point you started falling for both of them, but it was early into the competition that you realized you had fallen for them both

you didn't think that either of them had fallen for you back, though, so you remained quiet about it for the longest time

sophia definitely fell for you first, though lara wasn't far behind with it either

the three of you all sort of just gravitated towards each other, whether it was you and sophia, you and lara, or sophia and lara. there was always one of you with the other, if not all three together

the two of them talked to each other about how they fell for you, and there was an understanding between them that they'd accept it if you chose the other

meanwhile, you were off rambling to manon and daniela, not really knowing how to approach either of them, how to choose one over the other

when you three were all a part of the final line up, that was when manon and daniela decided they were tired of the will they won't they and decided to set you all up

the first night you all moved into the dorm, manon talked you all into a movie night, while daniela got megan and yoonchae out of the dorm

it was really awkward watching movies at first, but eventually your head rested on sophia's shoulder while your legs were on lara's lap

you eventually murmured "i could get used to this" and sophia asked what you meant. it took you a moment before you finally said "the three of us" because it felt wrong not to include one of you

that led to the three of you spilling your hearts out, and somehow it led to kisses being shared between the three of you

when the other girls came home and found lara half on your lap, with sophia clearly not bothered by it, manon said "it's about time"

actually dating

fans aren't sure who's dating who, but the ship wars entertain the hell out of you three

the only arguments you three have are about who's the middle spoon, since you all three like being held

there's no jealousy between the three of you, you're comfortable letting them spend time alone while they're comfortable letting you have one on one time with either of them

you steal their clothes more often than they take yours, but it's not uncommon for them to be wearing one of your hoodies either

sophia is the big spoiler between you three, she'll see something you or lara will like and she'll buy it without a second thought

lara likes having either of you two with her as she works on music, sophia likes having you two in the kitchen with her as she cooks

you're the clingiest, and you always go to them for cuddles because you know they can't resist you

sophia's room is the designated hangout spot for you three, or where the three of you sleep by each other at night. you room with manon and daniela, and you all know they'd bug the hell out of you. megan's not as bad, but she also teases you three. yoonchae just doesn't care, so she's the cool roommate

whenever you all travel, you three end up sharing a room together

at one point, an idol hit on you while you were in korea, and you'd never seen the two of them jealous until then

[stevie-petey]

can we get a blurb from dustin’s pov after they leave steve and robin? like when they’re crawling through the vents and bug is j overthinking i’d love to see this from dustin’s pov!!

of course !!

enjoy <3

"are you okay?"

"'m fine," your voice comes out weak, weaker than you had meant for it to, and dustin knows that youre lying.

hes watched you ever since he forced your body into the vents. again his eyes fall to your white knuckles, the shaking in your shoulders, the lost look in your eyes.

its as if all the life has drained out of you, and it terrifies dustin to see.

hes known for a while that you love steve. the moment you called him for help last november, dustin had known that there was something going on between the two of you. though it had surprised him, disgusted him, even, watching the way the two of you danced around each other eased something within dustin.

when your father left, he took all the light with him. the music, the soft humming of july, the honey and sweet tea. dustin was too young to really miss it, the memories more like a hazy dream, but you remembered everything.

after the move to hawkins, you became someone dustin was afraid of. he would never tell you this, but for a while he was scared he would never get the old you back. the sister who played with his hair when he was tired, who raced with him on their bikes and always let him win. dustin feared that he had lost both his father and sister during the divorce.

but then, over time, you came back to yourself.

meeting jonathan served as the catalyst. befriending someone who understood your pain, someone so similar to you, scars to match. soon your light came back, in pieces, then all at once. a month into settling into hawkins, dustin had heard your laughter from the kitchen for the very first time in months, and he knew then that he had his sister back.

then steve somehow came into your lives. dustin still isnt really sure how, but he did. one day it was just you and dustin, and then suddenly there was steve, and it was the missing puzzle piece neither of you realized you were missing.

steve, who set a spark in you every time he looked at you. who made you quick to anger and to melting. who was wrapped so tightly around your finger that dustin almost pitied him. though really he knows that youd do whatever steve asked you to, as well.

seeing the two of you together had eased an uncertainty within dustin that he hadnt known had been there.

he liked jonathan, viewed him as a brother, but when nancy came along, the old fear of losing you came crawling back. that november, you were drifting away from everyone. dustin had sensed it, but he held out hope that jonathan could pull you in again.

only he couldnt. not this time. and dustin was terrified once again.

until steves concerned eyes fell on you when he pulled up to the wheelers. until your exhausted body gravitated towards his. dustin knew, then, that you were now tethered to someone else.

and now steve is gone. locked in some prison with men who want to hurt him.

his sisters tether, the one she loves, the one who dustin has come to view as his own brother as well, is gone.

[elisysd]

21. Someday we will foresee obstacles

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Obstacles - Syd Matters

Dear Charles, 

I have a lot of regrets in my life. Regrets of not speaking up when I should have, wishes to have done things differently, regrets of words left unspoken, regrets of not having been enough… But my biggest one of all is to have imagined you and I had a chance. I thought that we would have worked out, somehow. Despite having everything against us. I thought what we have or had was rare and sacred enough to overcome everything life would throw at us. Now, I see that I was wrong. You can love someone as much as you want, if the right foundations aren’t there, then we are doomed to fail. And in our case, we aren’t trusting each other enough. We rushed into things, blissfully and naively. We thought love was enough. We forgot that a relationship needed work. We didn’t fight for it. Would we ever have? I don’t know. 

I wanted to fight for you but I needed you to fight for me too. You didn’t. You didn’t even try to hear me out, you didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. You rushed into the first assumption you made. And I don’t blame you, unlike what you might think. I think I would have reacted the same way. And part of me thinks that it is because we weren’t mature enough for what we had. Or not ready. Or scared to fully give this a try. 

I wish we would have met in different circumstances. Maybe it would have been different, then. If you had been just a guy and I would have been just a woman in a normal world. If I didn’t have so much emotional baggage with me. If your life was boring. If, if, if… Would you have even looked at me? I like to think so. I like to think there is something bigger than just you and I and that we would have found each other, somehow. 

No matter what, I’m grateful for you because you showed me that I shouldn’t be scared of myself. You showed me that I could achieve anything I had my eyes set on. You showed me that I could love. And this is more precious than anything. I will always carry you with me. You are bright, Charles, and I’m grateful to have gravitated in your orbit even if it was just for a while. 

I hope you will find that special someone I wish I could have been. Lord knows I wish I could have been that to you. Because goddamn you are it for me. 

Take care. Be happy.

With love, 

Y/N

Charles fumbled the letter and furiously threw it to the other side of the room. He wanted to scream. Tell you that he had been played, tell you that he was sorry, that he loved you, that if he could go back he would in a blink of an eye. But he knew you were right. He hated to admit it, almost ashamed even, but he had never allowed himself to fully trust you. Not because you had ever given him any reason to but because your job had always been in the back of his mind. Years of media training weren’t easy to forget when he was in the presence of a journalist, no matter how hard he was trying to convince himself he was feeling safe and at ease next to you. He had rushed into this relationship, relying on his feelings and thinking nothing could go wrong, pushing away all negative thoughts and all doubts. And as he could have expected it had come back when the first obstacle had kicked in. 

He replayed the fight in his mind. Your confused look and hurt painted all around your face. Your arms protectively wrapped around your body, how you stuttered, how you tried to calmly make him listen to you. He bitterly smiled thinking that he had never heard you raise your voice to be heard. He sat down, his podium and second place of the day prior seemed so far away, and picked up his phone, coming across your smile on his lockscreen. He wanted to call you and he was even about to when doubts poisoned his mind. What would he say? A sorry would never cut it. He closed his eyes, leaned his head against the wall and prayed to find a solution to win you back. 

“You need to eat, Y/N,” your best friend worryingly told you. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“It’s been three days…”

You huffed half annoyed, half surprised. It’s already been three days since you’d ended up here, on your best friend’s couch after a phone call made from the Vegas’ airport toilets, for privacy reasons. Three days of replaying what you could and should have said to Charles. Three days of sulking. Three days of crying yourself to sleep. Three days of mentally listing all the reasons you should get up and fight for him. Three days trying to come up with reasons why you were better off without him and him without you. Three days of avoiding your phone, scared to see his face on your lockscreen and scared of seeing a missed call from him. 

“Is it bad that I don’t resent him? I want to hate him for breaking up with me like that, for not giving me a chance to explain myself. But no matter how hard I try, all I can think about is that it is better this way.”

“It’s not bad or weird. You love him, that’s all,” you best friend shrugged, sitting next to you. 

“I wish I could unlove him. It would be easier. And I would feel less conflicted.”

“Why?”

“Because… a part of me, the rational one, thinks that we are too different, that we didn’t take the time to properly build our relationship, that we barely know each other when you think about it. That we jumped into this craziness without acknowledging the obstacles and without learning how to trust each other. We didn’t try to find the tool to make us work out. But the irrational part of me misses him. I miss the person I am when he is next to me. I feel seen when he looks at me. Really seen. Like I don’t need to hide, he sees right through me. And frankly, I don’t want to hide when I’m with him. I feel brave, I feel confident, I feel beautiful, I feel like I could conquer the world.”

“Your brain is fighting your heart. Isn’t that the usual dilemma?”

“I don’t know who I’m supposed to listen to. They all say follow your heart but I did that once and look at where I ended up.”

“You’ve been hurt, I know. But is it a good enough reason to stop trying?”

“Why can’t you give me the answer? It would be so much easier if someone was telling me what to do…” you sighed, burying your head in the pillow. 

“People have done that all your life, maybe it is time for you to take the matter into your own hands,” she smiled, leaving you sorting out your thoughts on your own. 

Her words kept on playing in your head for the main part of the night until you finally made them make some sense. Maybe you didn’t have to choose between your brain and your heart, maybe just maybe, you could have both. Maybe you could still follow your heart while learning from your mistakes. You knew there was no chance of repairing what had been broken between Charles and you, you could never go back to what it had once been. Not anymore. But it didn’t mean there was no path leading him to you. You had meant it, in your letter, deep down you knew you both would find each other in any other life. Because as crazy as it sounded, you were convinced you were made for each other. 

The next day, as soon as your best friend closed the door to go to work, you quickly set up your podcast’s microphone, played with the lights and put your camera on. A good podcast wouldn’t go anywhere if people weren’t attached to the host and for that, you needed to introduce yourself. 

“Hi all, welcome on Racing for Women, your monthly podcast about women in motorsports. For those who don’t know me, and I’m sure there are a lot of you, my name is Y/N and I’m your host. Motorsport is everything to me. It has always been for as long as I can remember. My grandfather was a Williams’ fan, number one supporter of Keke Rosberg and when I tell you he was his number one fan, I’m not even kidding. He used to have the Finnish flag at home even though he is definitely not Fins and his most prized possession, after my grandmother, was an autograph he once got during the Monaco GP, in 1987, the same year Keke won his world championship. My grandfather used to say he had been Keke’s lucky charm that year. 

Anyway, I grew up watching Formula 1 GP with him, cheering on Michael Schumacher’s wins and being enthralled by how he was dominating his sport. Then there was Sebastian Vettel whom I admired a lot, then Lewis Hamilton… but the man I look up to the most has always been my grandfather and the passion with which he was talking about F1, the tracks, the teams, the drivers… The respect he had for them, he passed it on me. Then came my little brother, Luc. Like any little sibling, he was looking up to me a lot. Always following me around and if I was finding that annoying when I was younger, I truly miss those days now. Especially since he is no longer part of this world. If I’m mentioning that, it’s not because I want to attract pity, it’s because it is crucial to understand why this podcast exists. Luc loved the drivers and we will get to that later, he loved following the races of course but what he loved the most was watching the mechanics change a tyre or engineers instructing drivers to change settings on their wheel. I think he would have studied engineering in hope to end up in F1 one day, if his leukemia hadn’t put an abrupt end to his short life. 

His favorite driver was Charles Leclerc, and when I tell you he was a fan I swear I’m not kidding. Think merchandising, posters, mini helmets, car replicas… everything he could find he was getting it. The only thing he never got was an autograph and to see his hero racing in front of his eyes. As for myself, while carefully watching over him and never missing a race that we were always watching on his hospital bed, I naturally found myself studying journalism, hoping one day I would be on a F1 paddock interviewing those helmeted heroes. 

A few years ago, I had the chance to be accepted in a program in New-York. Truth be told, I would have refused to go if Luc hadn’t been this persuasive. He didn’t want me to miss out on my dreams and on such a big opportunity. Shortly after I left, his health started to worsen. Weirdly, it matched with Charles Leclerc’s lack of performance in 2022. And then, I remember receiving a phone call from my mom as I was about to go to school on a rainy Wednesday. Luc had passed away. It was a very dark time for me from that day until the end of the year. I couldn’t make it to the funeral and I started to blame everything around me. But one person more than any other, I blamed Charles. It sounds stupid now that I mention it, but back then it only seemed logical to me. Luc’s death was a few days after the whole Silverstone situation and since Charles was his hero, I tried to find some sense by blaming him. If he had won Silverstone, maybe my brother would still be alive. I know now that it would have made no difference. I knew that back then too, but I wasn’t ready to face it. 

So, I buried myself in the remainder of my studies and got my degree. Shortly after I came back I had the opportunity to join the Formula One covering service of Canal + and then the rest is history. I’ve worked for them during the first part of the season, in the media pen, in the F2 paddock. I had the chance to interview Lewis Hamilton and I had the chance to meet Luc’s hero. If I’m honest, I wasn’t the nicest to him at first, for reasons you understand now. But my hatred for Charles changed into respect, a mutual one. I think despite the brutality of my questions, he liked that I wasn’t someone who would coddle him by only saying things he wanted to hear. 

 Then, some of you might know it and maybe some of you are here because of that, what was once a professional relationship turned into something more personal. I won’t dive deeper into that because this is not the point of this podcast and if you’re here for it, I will kindly ask you to leave now. What I will say, however, is that next to Charles, I had the chance to witness what it truly meant to work in F1. For a driver obviously, for his family and friends. I had the chance to see how dedicated he was, how passionate, how driven and demanding with his team. But also how selfless, how fun he was, how generous with those around him. There wasn’t a day where I wasn’t in awe of him. 

But I also saw first hand what it looked like to work in a team whether it is as a Team Principal, as a media person, a trainer, a mechanic or an engineer. And I also witnessed what being a woman in that world implied. That’s why I wanted to give them a voice, to give them a space where they could share their experience that I truly believe is essential and precious to all the girls out there who want to work in that field. This is what this podcast is about. And I hope you will love it as much as I do.”

In awe with him. 

Your words echoed in Charles’ head as his headphones were firmly glued on his ears as he was laying on his bed, in his hotel room in Abu Dhabi. He didn’t want to listen to your voice at first, but curiosity had taken the best of him and he hadn’t been able to resist. The episode launching your podcast had brought him to tears. He had never imagined you would be willing to bare your soul like that knowing so many people would listen. He didn’t like to admit it but he might have replayed the moment you were talking about him, a part of him searching for any signs you weren’t honest. But all he could hear was the pride and love in your voice. A punch in his gut. A reminder of how cruel and stupid he had been. 

He contemplated his phone, thinking about texting you to congratulate you before giving up on the idea. A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts. 

“Hey man,” Joris said, slowly coming in, a bag under his arm. “Andrea received this. It’s your helmet. I thought you would like to see it, in case there is a default or something you don’t like before actually putting it on your head.”

Charles nodded, taking the bag from his best friend and discovering his special helmet. With everything that had been going on, he had almost forgotten that he was supposed to wear a helmet with all the names of everyone in Ferrari that helped him during his season. It was a simple design but a meaningful one. He took his time to read each name until an idea popped in his mind. 

“Joris, do you have a sharpie with you?”

“Why?”

“I need to make some modifications on that helmet.”

“Oh cute… you don’t have to, you know. I mean, having my name on it would be pretty damn cool but you are already paying me way more than you need to for being your slave.”

“It’s not your name I want to add, dummy. It’s Y/N and Luc. Y/N because I hope that it will show her how sorry I am and that she matters to me. And Luc because… it’s been a while since I’m trying to find a way to pay him a tribute and I think the last race of the season is the perfect moment to do so.”

“Wow… I mean, that’s an amazing idea and I’m sure she will love it. If it doesn’t make her come back to you, I don’t know what else will.”

“I hope so, mate. I hope so.”

Author's note: Two chapters in two day?? Who am I?? Lmao. I know I said this was supposed to be the last one, but... will you be angry if I was saying there is still one left? 😇

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody @herondalism @roseamongthorns13 @aundercover @snowflakesfluff @fictional-l0v3r @queensassybitchsworld @jehun @reengard @valntynebaby @janeh22

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[whiskeynwriting]

heyyyy idk if you take requests but if you do, can i request something with Ghost and Soap and female reader? she’s never done anything with either of them and then one time they get shipped off all three of them over seas and something spicy happens?:::)))) rolling my chair into oblivion byeeeee

THIS IS SO SEXYYYYY. Ugh.

Simon Says

Simon “Ghost” Riley x John “Soap” McTavish x Female Reader

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Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Mentions of reader’s hair, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, hair pulling, choking, spitting, slapping (just one tiny face tap), bisexuality, polyamory, threesome activities, sub/dom dynamics, brief male masturbation, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, anal sex, m|m and f|m sex

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A/N: Omg, this is the first time I've EVER written m|m sex, and the first time I've EVER written a threesome. I can't handle it. Anon, thank you for this.

Alsssooooo, we have some Scottish Gaelic in here for Soap! AAHHH I’m loving it. The translations are in parenthesis after the words are used, of course &lt;3

◆

Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

To say you’re out of your element here would be an understatement. Oftentimes, traveling out of the country was a breeze for you. Things weren’t all that different, give or take. But going overseas was an entirely different thing. Comparing Brazil to London? There wasn’t anything you could lean on for comfort here; nothing reminded you of home. Except for them.

After joining the force, you found yourself gravitating toward the two of them. After all, Simon grew up in the same area as you. It’s not like the two of you ever met before finding each other here, but knowing he’s tied to your home somehow ties him to you. And Johnny, his parents live just down the road from your grandparent’s home. How the two of you never met before this is beyond you. Regardless, you’re thankful to know them now. It’s like one way or another, you were meant to find each other. 

But for some reason, you can’t find them right now. Simon and Johnny were always close, so much so that you were shocked they welcomed you into their friendship so quickly. Usually though, the three of you convened after a mission. Whether it was in the barracks at the base or a break room in the safe house, you always relaxed afterward together. So, where are they now? 

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

“Oh, sorry Cap.” Immediately, you straighten a bit, addressing Price as he appears off to your right. “Just um, checking out the new base… I guess.”

“New,” He chuckles, reminding you, “Won’t be new for much longer. We’ve got a week.” 

All you do is smile, giving him a curt nod. “Sir.” 

Price has always been easy to avoid. Just straighten your back and say what he wants to hear, and he’ll be out of your hair. Which is just what happens. Right after your response, he’s nodding, turning to walk out of sight. 

Relaxing your posture, you trudge on, stepping quietly down the long and empty halls. The makeshift barracks are empty, most of the team taking a break in the kitchen. Which is what originally led your search. But now, a sound seems to direct your steps. 

“Quiet, now.”

“Simon?” Whispering, you furrow your brows, taking a step toward a side door. 

Bewildered, you press your hand to the knob, inching the door open to peer inside. It seems to be a storage room of sorts, a small warehouse, almost. The lights are off, but you can still see the shelves stacked high with boxes and files. You wonder what they’re for. But all too quickly, they become the last thing on your mind. 

In the dim light of the room, just barely, you can make out the figures of the men you’d been searching for. Both tall, much taller than you, and bulky, too. But it’s clear that one is much bigger than the other, and wearing a mask. Simon. 

“Simon?” Walking in, you push the door open further, calling out for him “Oh.”

Stopping in your tracks, your jaw drops, not meeting Simon’s eyes but Johnny’s. Deep blue with his irises blown wide, half of his face covered by Ghost’s skull. But then, they’re fluttering shut, a heated breath shoving its way out of his chest. A moan. 

“S-Simon,”

“Yeah,” He groans, but he doesn’t let go. “I see her, Johnny.” 

He’s pushed Soap up against the wall, one hand on his throat to keep him steady. And you’ve never seen him handle Johnny like that but that’s not the shocking part. What’s shocking is the sight of Ghost’s free hand palming the captain’s crotch. And even though he’s acknowledged your appearance, he hasn’t stopped. 

Turning, Ghost glances over his shoulder at you, addressing you by name. “How’re you?” He asks, completely nonchalant. 

“I, um…” Releasing a flustered chuckle, you sigh, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Was… looking for you. Both of you.”

“Figured you would,” He returns in that gruff voice, unapologetically turning back to his companion. “Didn’t think you’d find us, though.” 

His mask is pulled up above his mouth, nothing you haven’t before seen. But now, his bare mouth is on Johnny’s, kissing him sloppily. Your face burns at the sight, a small gasp slipping from your lips. You expected him to stop, to move away and maybe say something. Not do… that. 

“Simon,” Soap moans again, shaky hand reaching for his hip. He’s overwhelmed, very clearly.

“You, you didn’t want me to? To find you?” The entire situation is making you feel antsy and embarrassed but above it all, you’re hurt by Simon’s words. You always find each other after a mission. 

By now, Soap’s hands are on Simon’s neck and waist, pulling him further in. They’re both in plain jeans, Soap in a short black sleeve and Ghost in that sexy ass light-gray fleece. And if you were being honest, you’ve always thought about them this way. Just because they were your friends didn’t mean they weren’t hot. But never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined them like this. 

Now, Ghost does stop, laughing at your words. “Sure we did.” Smacking his lips, he lowers his head, finding Johnny’s neck. “We love your company.” 

“Well, I don’t know if it’s much help right now…” Backing away, your body finally catches up with your brain. 

“You never know.” Comes his immediate response, rutting his hips into Johnny’s. Jesus, he’s so brazen. Every little movement is catching you offgaurd, making you stumble and stutter. “What d’you think, Johnny? Huh?”

“Oh,” And you’ve never seen Soap so submissive. 

“Think she’d wanna join in?” 

At that, your eyes widen. Everything in your body is on fire from seeing them like this. You never expected it, in general, and you definitely never expected to like it. Nibbling on your lower lip, you shift your stance, rubbing your thighs against each other a bit. 

“C-Close the door,” Soap suddenly begs, motioning towards it. “No one,” He gulps, feeling Ghost’s lips suction to his neck. “No one needs to see. Other than you.”

“Johnny?” You question, not understanding his wording. 

“He wants you here.” Ghost answers for him, squeezing his throat a little harder. And then, Simon’s eyes are flashing toward you. “And so do I.” 

“Would you?” Johnny then asks, whimpering helplessly when Ghost shifts his hips over his again. 

Glancing down, your eyes follow Soap’s gesture, his now outstretched arm. He’s reaching for you. It’s only then that the moment begins to feel… soft. Inviting, even. 

“Really?” You’re already stepping toward them, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. He’s calling out to you, he wants you. 

“Yes.” 

Before you can even register what’s happening, the hand intertwined with yours leaves, lifting to cup your face and bring you in. 

“Johnny…” He brings you close to his face, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. “I, I never knew…”

“That we did this?” Ghost finishes for you, huffing out a short laugh. “No one does.”

“No one should.” That Scottish accent adds, returning your eyes to him. “Kiss me.”

“What?” Even though you’re less than a hair’s breadth away from his lips, you’re surprised he asked. He’s never asked. Nothing sexual has ever happened between you and them.

“We’ve thought about this, love.” Simon chimes in, still marking Soap’s neck while he groans. “Thought about you.” 

You’re not sure what to do, not at all, but you know one thing for certain - you’re glad Simon is taking the lead. 

“You wanna be here with us, hm?” Now, he’s removed himself from Soap’s neck, addressing you directly. “You want us like I want him? Like he wants me?”

His words force your heart to lurch into your throat, the pound of your pulse deafening in your ears. Has he noticed? Have they both? Have they seen the way you stare? The way your irises widen, the way you swallow when you see them shirtless? The way your body eases into them when you’re given a hug, the way you react to their touch? 

“A simple yes or no.” Ghost reminds you, pulling you back to the present. “It won’t affect us, love, the three of us. We’ll always be mates, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Johnny nods, looking from Ghost and then to you. His hand is still on your face, thumb swiping gently over the apple of your cheek. He finds you so breathtakingly beautiful. They both do. 

The fact that they’re reassuring you of this shows you just how much they care, just how deeply they trust you. They’ve been your best friends for months now, you’ve been able to count on them for anything. Emotionally and physically, they’ve always been there, always had your back. And you’ve had theirs, but… not to this extent. Maybe now is the time to change that. 

“I, I do.” Nodding, you lick your lips nervously before swallowing. “I…” 

Gently, Johnny’s hand guides you back toward his face, angling himself downward slightly so he can connect with you. And Ghost stays perfectly still while he does it, wanting to watch your first embrace. 

Leaning into his hold, you meet him halfway, just barely lifting yourself onto your tippy toes. Your hands feel awkward at your sides, so you reach out toward your captain. Immediately, though, Simon is catching your right hand and holding it tightly as he watches your lips connect. 

As soon as your lips meet, Johnny’s moaning against you, hand curling around to hold the back of your head. And you all but melt into him, the hand not being held by Ghost securing to Johnny’s hip. 

“Oh…” Simon sighs, leaning back in to mouth at Soap’s neck. “That’s it, pet.” 

Just like that, the gradual roll of Ghost’s hips picks up again, each of your mouths paying attention to Johnny. With his hand on your neck, he guides the kiss, leaning in as he mouths at your lips. 

“S-Shit,” He’s stuttering, feeling Simon’s full erection weighing heavy against the fabric of his jeans. You take this opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth, grinning at the noise it drags out of him. 

“I need more, Johnny.” Simon begs, that gruff voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

A small, metallic noise draws your attention away from him, glancing down and witnessing the quick movements of Ghost’s hand. He’s undoing Soap’s belt, and in record time, might you add. Before you can even blink, he’s reaching in and freeing Johnny from the confines of his pants. 

“That’s better.” He sighs, fisting Soap’s length and giving long, slow pumps, all the way down to the base. 

“Fuck me.” Johnny’s head drops back, eyes shutting as he relishes in the feeling. 

At first, you don’t know what to say, what to even think. Thoughts jumble through your mind, feeling both shocked and flustered and excited. He’s so much bigger than you expected; he’s cut and slightly curved, and neatly trimmed, too. 

“Johnny…” It comes out as an airy breath, your own hand now reaching for him. 

Timidly, your fingertips dance along his scrotum, and Ghost smiles at this.  

“Why don’t you take over, love?” Glancing up, you lock eyes with him as he says, “Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s a good pet…” Simon responds, almost immediately. And it mesmerizes you. 

Releasing Soap of his hold, Ghost’s hand finds the back of your head, hurriedly bringing you into him. Smashing his lips to yours, you accept it wholeheartedly, your soft moan echoing in the back of Ghost’s throat. 

“Fuck,” Lifting his head, Soap stares at the sight in front of him. He chokes slightly when he feels your hand replace Simon’s, gripping him firmly while giving him the same languid strokes. 

“I am loving this,” He expresses, licking his lower lip. “Kiss him like you did me… that’s right…” 

While you’re shoving your tongue into Ghost’s mouth, feeling his thick fingers curl into your hair, Johnny leans in to kiss your face. It’s like he can’t help himself. It’s hurried and frenzied, his lips moving across your cheek and jaw. 

“Johnny,” He suddenly barks, ripping himself away from you. “Get on your knees for me.” 

Staring into Soap’s eyes, the captain does what he’s told, the two of you watching as Ghost leans back to undo his belt. 

Internally, you’re screaming. This is all moving so quickly, but you have absolutely no reservations when it comes to this. None, none at all. 

With Johnny’s movement, you’re forced to let go of him, watching as he shuffles back against the wall. Without either one of them saying another word, Ghost is guiding his cock into Soap’s waiting mouth. Instantly, his lips form a breathless smile, feeling the wetness of Johnny’s tongue slide over his tip. 

“Take it.” He mumbles, their eyes locked as Soap does just that. 

Shifting his hips forward, Simon releases a breathy chuckle, giving his companion’s mouth an array of shallow thrusts. And then he’s glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye, jerking his head to the side. 

“Get over here, princess.”

Jesus, you thought he’d never ask. 

It’s astonishing just how easy it is for this to happen, for you to follow his instructions. Because you do. Obeying his word, you kneel beside the captain, knees feeling like jelly as you move. Your entire body is nearly numb from excitement, and they’ve barely even touched you. 

Eyes widened, you stay on your knees beside your comrade, swallowing your nerves. “How… how many times have you…”

“More times than I can count.” Simon grunts, fingers curling into the stripe of hair at the top of Soap’s head. “You feel like givin’ it a go?” He then asks, smirking when your pretty eyes flicker up to his. 

“Yes.” It’s small and quiet, the word as it comes out. And Simon is happy with it. 

Pulling away from Soap’s mouth, they each release a harsh grunt. When Simon reaches for you, he’s much kinder. He doesn’t tangle his fingers into your hair just yet, he doesn’t know how much you can take.

“Come here, sweetheart.” Simon coos, his voice so soft and loving. Johnny remembers when he was first like that, before they got comfortable with each other. Comfortable enough to be rough. 

“That’s it…” That sweet voice is in your ear the entire time his attention is on you, his hand guiding you closer to him. 

With doe-like eyes, Soap watches you take in Simon’s cock just an inch away from his face. Your lips open just enough to envelope his uncut tip, tongue sliding beneath the girth of him. He’s bigger than Johnny, much bigger, and not so well-trimmed. In fact, he has a bush at his base. 

“Yeah, just like that.” Nodding slowly, both of Ghost’s hands find your face, pulling you gently onto him. 

Leaning with his movements, you soon find your mouth stuffed of him, his low moans echoing throughout the quiet space. Again, Johnny can’t help himself. Moving forward, he presses his cheek to yours, leaning down to run his tongue over Simon’s balls. And collectively, you moan, your sound vibrating through the lieutenant's cock.

“Fuckin’ hell Johnny,” Simon grunts, briefly baring his teeth at the feeling. “Oh, love…” Naturally, and without instruction, you move your mouth along the length of him, sucking slowly, tenderly. “That’s so good, princess…” 

He doesn’t even have to move his hips, not when both of your mouths are on him like this. Right now, all of his focus is going into keeping his legs sturdy, keeping himself standing. 

“And you know what you are, Johnny?” 

With his own mouth full, all he can mumble is, “Hm?” And you don’t know it yet, but he’s asking for Simon’s attention, begging for his praise. 

With those blue eyes lifting, searching for Simon’s dark gaze, he whines when his partner says, “You’re a good boy.” 

Even though the praise isn’t directed at you, you whine all the same. And Soap does, too, sucking more of Simon’s tender flesh between his lips while he sighs.

“I quite like the idea of this,” Simon chuckles breathily, unable to tear his gaze away from sight beneath him. “Havin’ myself two pets.”

And you have to admit, you like the sound of that, too.

Reaching up, your hands find the thick meat of Simon’s thighs, massaging and clawing them as you continue to take him. Willingly, you urge him down your throat, your quick and airy breaths making you feel all fuzzy. Limply, you lean on Johnny, his sturdy body offering you a hint of support. 

“Look at you, takin’ me all the way.” It actually impresses Simon. It took Soap a while to work up to that. “You’re just full of surprises.” 

With one hand, he strokes Johnny’s head, the fingers of his other combing through your hair. His pretty pets. 

Swiping his tongue hungrily across Simon’s scrotum, Soap’s tongue occasionally dances across your lips, and he savors it. He even dedicates a moment to running his tongue along the edges of your mouth while it’s still full of Simon’s dick. 

“Ugh,” Simon suddenly expresses, a thick groan escaping him. “Jesus, Johnny.” 

“Sir?” Johnny returns, his voice timid and light. And more than ever before, it sets your body alight. You’ve never heard him speak this way. 

“Up here,” Simon demands, chest rising and falling quickly. “On your feet with me.” 

Whimpering quietly, you watch him stand. You liked having his company. 

With firm movements, Simon spins his partner around. “Put your hands on the wall.” And even though he just gave him a command, he helps him do it. With his hands on Johnny’s wrists, he places them on the sturdy concrete in front of him, sighing happily once he’s done it. “Yeah… that’s right.”

And while he’s talking to Johnny, you’re still on your knees, mouth endlessly pleasuring him. Before either of you can even take a moment to think, Ghost’s hand is on Johnny’s jaw, forcing him to look down at you. 

“What d’you think about fuckin’ her mouth, Johnny?” Now, he starts to move his hips, thrusting himself down your throat at a much harsher pace. 

Unexpectedly, you whine, nodding beneath the two men. And Soap’s eyes go wide when he sees this. Removing yourself from Simon, you sigh, trying to regain some semblance of your composure. While watching you shuffle before him, placing yourself perfectly between his legs, Soap nods. It’s like he can’t bring himself to look away, like he can’t comprehend the acts you’re all performing. 

“Beautiful…” Soap murmurs, reaching down to cup your jaw gently. Sliding his thumb over your bottom lip, he watches them part so he can slide it in. “That’s beautiful, lass.” 

 Slowly, Simon retracts his hips, pulling himself out of your mouth. The sound produced from the act is wet, almost sticky. 

“She’s lubed it up quite nicely for you.” Ghost whispers into his ear, kissing the lobe. Shifting his feet, he positions himself behind Johnny, hands holding firm on his hips. 

Lowering one hand, he slides it down to Soap’s ass, fingers prying at the muscular flesh. With one finger, he teases Johnny’s hole, rubbing and just barely poking it. And the whimper that comes from Johnny is euphoric, feeling your mouth wrap around him while Simon plays with his ass. 

Leaning back, you ask, “Is this alright?”

Your question prompts his attention to return to you, all while feeling Simon slide a finger into him from behind. Nodding, Soap swallows thickly, entranced by the sight of his cock resting on your soft lips.

“That’s more than alright.” He answers, one hand falling to the back of your head. “That’s just… that’s so good.” And then he’s giving you one, firm nod. “Do it again.” 

While holding his gaze, you slide the length of him over your tongue until he’s entirely in your mouth. Sitting still for a moment, you hollow your cheeks, sucking on him. 

“Oh…”

“You ready for me?” Ghost then asks, one hand coming up to hold his throat, just like before. 

“Fuck…”

Pumping his finger in a handful of times, Simon adds another, stretching the tight ring of muscles he’s become far too familiar with. The hand not on the back of your head lays palm-flat against the wall, Johnny leaning in to press his forehead to the cool concrete. 

He’s taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “Yeah.” 

Moving in sync with Simon, you slide Johnny into your throat in the same motion as the lieutenant slides between his partner’s cheeks. And it makes him fucking choke. Already, Soap’s legs are shaking, and the gentle scratch of your nails down his thighs isn’t helping.

“How’s she feel, Johnny?” Ghost is kissing Soap’s neck, his small whimpers and moans making Simon throb. 

Pulling himself back, Simon returns to the warm confines of his friend, building a gradual pace. And you do the same, attempting to match it. Only a few thrusts in, and Soap is an absolute mess, moaning freely with his lips parted, eyes furrowed shut as he takes it. From the sensation of it all, he’s barely even able to thrust into your mouth. But that’s alright, Simon’s thrusts are so heady that they do most of the work, repeatedly sliding Soap down your throat. 

Angrily, Simon snaps his hips against Johnny’s ass, grinding in deep. And it forces an almost painful cry from the captain. “I asked you a question, love.”

Simon was always a dominant man; with his size and demeanor, how could he not be? But seeing him in this situation has that notion growing tenfold. He’s clearly the one in charge, the one who calls the shots between the two of them. And you wish so badly to be beneath him. 

The grip Ghost has on Johnny’s throat tightens, his hips picking up their pace. His pelvis slaps against the meat of Soap’s backside, forcing him deeper into your mouth every time. Reaching out, your hands slide over Johnny’s thighs. Curling around, they find the flexing muscles of Simon’s backside, scratching into the surface before you squeeze. 

“S-So,” He’s trembling, stuttering, eyes opening to stare down at you. Your lips are gliding so smoothly along his shaft, your throat sucking him down with every thrust. “So good.”

“Yeah?” Ghost grins, hearing his lover’s shaky voice. “She felt pretty good around me, too.” 

Ghost’s indirect praise makes you moan, the vibrations shivering through Soap’s cock and hips. 

“F-Fuck me, I’m gonna - Simon.” Soap is whining and groaning, reaching around to hold the back of Ghost’s head while he sucks on the side of his neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

“No you’re not.” He replies nonchalantly, pulling out of his comrade with a groan. And it successfully cuts off Johnny’s high. 

He whimpers quietly, almost pathetically, from the loss, dropping his head down. But Ghost presses his back to Soap, leaning down to place his chin on Johnny’s shoulder. 

“Look at me,” But Soap almost can’t, because you’ve hollowed your cheeks and are drooling down his shaft. “I said look at me.” With the force of his hand, Simon makes Johnny turn to look him in the eyes. 

“You can cum after I fuck our new play thing.” Without looking down, Simon drops a hand, running his fingers through your hair as he says it. An affectionate, possessive, gesture. 

“Alright?” Reaching down, he uses his dominant hand to gently cup Soap’s balls. It makes his body jolt, a helpless mewl slipping from his mouth. 

And then Simon’s looking down at you, giving you a nod. “Hey, gorgeous.” He calls, the hand on Soap’s balls reaching out to give your cheek a soft little smack. “Your turn. Eyes up here.” 

Immediately, your eyes are on him, your mouth still stuffed full. 

“You want me to fuck you? Huh? Wanna know what it feels like?” 

“Mhm,” Nodding rapidly, you slide your tongue along the underside of Johnny’s cock, listening to his airy moan. 

“Then,” Ghost says, deep voice rumbling as his fingers tighten in your air. “Get off.”

Pulling your head in the opposite direction while pulling Johnny back forces you to let him go, both of them watching as you pant and gasp. 

“You liked that?” Tilting his head, Simon grins.

Huffing out an array of heavy breaths, you nod. “Yes.” 

“Ah,” Simon tuts happily, reaching down to your pretty face. “That’s a good girl.” 

“Oh,” 

“You like that too, huh?”

“Yes, Simon.” 

“Why don’t you lay down for me then? And show me how good you can be.” 

He’s never spoken to you like this before, and why would he? But after tonight, you’re hoping he does again. And again, and again.

Leaning back, you find yourself scrambling onto your backside and palms, shifting down to the ground. You don’t even care that it’s dusty and who knows what could have trudged through here. It’s worth it when Simon says, “I love how well you listen to me.” 

“Baby,” It comes out before you can stop it, before you can even realize it. And it’s said as Simon is crouching down, moving to cover your body with his own. 

You’re reaching for him, and it’s so easy to see just how captivated you are by him. “You’ve thought of me.” He states, grinning. 

Situating himself over your body, you can hear Johnny’s pants beside you. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bend down, but right now, all you’re focusing on is him. Ghost. 

“Yes.” Hands finding either side of his face, you bring him in, and he doesn’t reject it. 

Passionately, his mouth meets your own, lips just barely colliding before your tongues do. He licks into you, one hand wiggling beneath the back of your head so he can hold you. 

 “I want you.” Simon growls against your lips, both his breath and pulse quickening. “I want you, pet.”

“I want you.” Your body curls upwards toward him, feeling an undeniable pull. Diving in, you slide your tongue across his, listening to his harsh and heated moan. 

“Johnny,” Ghost mumbles against your lips. “Get over here.” And just like that, he’s at Simon’s side. 

“You always do what he says?” You tease, grinning. And Soap fucking blushes.

“Whatever Simon says.” He responds, looking deeply into his partner’s eyes. And that fills Ghost’s heart with pride. 

“Whatever Simon says…” You repeat, staring up at him, too.

Lifting your hands, your fingers find the edge of his fleece, pulling impatiently on him. Chuckling, he glances down at you, licking his lower lip before speaking to Johnny. 

“Want you on top of her.” He says, eyes now entirely on you. “Come fuck that pretty face.” 

“Oh, fuck yes.” 

Instantly, he’s climbing over you, positioning his pelvis directly above your face. Indirectly, he shoves his ass into Simon’s, but it’s not like he minds. Bending forward, he sinks his teeth into the thick muscle of Soap’s upper thigh, sucking a mark onto his skin. 

“There you go, Johnny.” Reaching forward, Ghost lays a hand over Soap’s back, guiding him further down. “Bend over… just like that.” 

Still hanging heavy between his legs, you take Soap back into your mouth, tongue reaching for his tip. Once it’s past your lips, you suck gently on it, prompting a flurry of small hip movements from the captain. His palms are flat on the ground on either side of your head, and while you’re entirely caught up in Johnny’s attention, Ghost is tearing it away all too soon. 

Broad hands find your calves, sliding up to find the waistband of your pants. He takes his time in undressing you, and finds himself wishing the three of you were elsewhere, somewhere you could be naked completely. Somewhere you could give all of yourself to him. 

“Fucking - ngh, you suck it so good.” Johnny’s sweating and babbling nonsense, thrusting into your mouth at a much different pace than before. It’s quicker, shallower, and you know he has to be close. “Keep doin’ that. Oh, Christ, keep sliding your tongue around.” 

You’re so distracted by Johnny that you barely even register when Ghost slides your pants off. In one swipe, your panties are gone, too, leaving you exposed to him. Instinctually, you spread your legs wider, welcoming him in.

Glancing up, Ghost finds himself throbbing at the sight of Soap’s flexing ass as he continually ruts into your mouth. With one hand, he’s pawing at his cheek, giving it a firm smack that makes Johnny’s hips stutter. 

“How about I fuck your ass, sweetheart?” Ghost asks, voice low and seductive. “I don’t have a condom with me right now…” Broad hands find your outer thighs, caressing you. “Maybe next time I can feel your sweet little pussy…” 

It comes as a shock, a jolt to your system, when he slides a finger down the seam of your sex. You want so desperately to moan, but with the way Johnny’s filling your throat right now, you can’t. But Johnny sees your reaction, he sees how your eyes roll back.

“Oh, she likes that, L’t.” 

“Does she?” Simon counters, giving your inner thigh a small smack. The motion sends a tingle through your body, your lungs attempting to fill with staggering gulps of air. 

Leaning back on his heels, Ghost’s hands spread your cheeks, eyes closely inspecting you. “Has anyone else ever been here, love? Anyone else ever fucked your ass?” 

When all he’s met with are sloppy gurgles, he gives Soap’s backside a light slap. “Back up, Johnny. Lemme hear her talk.”

“No,” It comes out as a gasped groan, the only word you can get out before Soap is diving back in. 

“Oh…” Simon sighs, eyes returning to your fluttering holes. “I like firsts.” 

Listening closely, you can just barely make out the sound of suction, the sound of Simon’s finger in his own mouth.   

“I’ll be gentle, pet.” He promises, damp finger now prodding at your tight ring. “I’ll make it good…” Releasing a low, muted sigh, he then promises in a whisper, “I’ll make it so good you can’t even breathe.”

You have no doubt that he’ll fulfill that promise, but if you’re being honest, you’re already feeling that way. Taking Soap down your throat is no easy task, and coupling that with Simon’s hands on your body is making you see fucking stars. 

Using his left hand, he makes sure to keep his dominant one clean. Once you’ve taken his entire pointer finger, his right hand finds its way to your sex, rubbing you tenderly. And the passionate moan you release gives him all the consent he needs.

Leaning in, he spits forcefully onto your fluttering lips, sliding his first two fingers through it. He uses the wetness of it to rub your clit, circling it slowly, gently, the stimulation allowing you to take in another one of his digits. 

“Look at that… opening up so nicely, aren’t we?”

Your hands have been sliding around Johnny’s thighs, fingers curling as you hold onto him. Nodding, you’re able to manage a moan before he’s plunging back in. 

“Think she can take three?”

“I know she can.” Johnny responds instantly.

Spitting again, Simon watches his saliva drip down your sex, sliding over the two fingers he’s stuffed into your ass. Retracting them halfway, he allows the wentess to coat his digits before returning them to your warmth, pumping them into you at a slightly quicker rate. 

“Simon,” Gasping, you push Johnny’s hips away from your face. “Please.”

“Please, what?” He’s furrowing his brows, but he doesn’t stop what he’s doing.

“I just, I want to feel you.” Swallowing heavily, you beg, “Please just fuck me. Please.”

While he’s out of your mouth, Johnny uses a spare hand to jerk himself off, keeping his eyes on you. “Fuck,” Lifting the other, he uses it to palm at your covered chest. “Wish we could see your tits right now, babe.”

“Maybe we’ll get to.” Simon suggests, removing his fingers from your ass. Leaning forward, he holds his palm out to Johnny, nonverbally asking for his spit. Which he gives. 

“Oh my god,” Groaning, you do your best to catch your breath while the boys interact. “I love this.”

“You and me both.” Johnny returns, moving a hand to your head to hold you steady. Slowly, he glides over your tongue, bottoming out in your mouth once again. “She takes it so well…”

“I know she does.” 

Situating himself between your legs, Simon holds the thickness of his shaft in one hand, rubbing the tip over your tightest entrance. His dominant hand hasn’t left your clit, his fingers rubbing sensual and sloppy circles over it.

“This might hurt a pinch, love.” 

All you do is lift your hips toward him, running your tongue along Soap’s tip. But he’s right, it does hurt. The slight sting of his bulbous tip entering you is… different, entirely new. The continuous stimulation on the peak of your sex helps, though. That along with Johnny as a distraction. 

When Ghost is halfway in, he prompts Johnny to take a break, allowing you a breath. Rubbing your thighs, that breathy voice asks you, “How’s that, princess?”

“A lot.”

Now, Soap is answering. “I know.” His hands find your face, cupping and stroking you softly. “It’s so much, isn’t it, lass?”

“Yes.” While he’s speaking to you, Simon continues sliding in. 

Sighing, Soap swipes his thumb gently over your cheek. “Sweet cailin…” (Girl)

“Mm,” You whine sharply at the feeling of Simon bottoming out inside you, his thighs resting flush against your cheeks. His free hand is on your hip, holding you steady with his thumbs swiping over your skin.

“There we go,” Shuffling closer, he grinds into you, holding you tightly against him. “Oh, Christ…”

Pulsing his fingers upward, he finds your g-spot, caressing it firmly. And the moan it tears from your chest sounds ungodly, Soap quick to cut it short with his cock. 

Steadily, they pump themselves into you, Simon’s fingers working just as hard, too. His thumb just barely flicks the nub of your clit while his hips shift right up against you. And even though he’s going relatively slow, the groans coming from him are guttural and deep, heavy grunts alongside every push and shove of his fingers and length. With every passing second, he’s growing more ravenous, more insatiable. The slick of your cunt drips down onto his length as it repeatedly dives into the space between your cheeks, aiding in his smooth slides. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight back here…” Already sweating, he feels his muscles shake, wanting to have more of you and Johnny but not knowing how to do it. “Would love to warm you up. Stretch you out. Oh…” Leaning forward, Ghost presses his forehead to his lover’s back, giving his skin a sweet kiss. “Would you let me do that, sweetheart? Would you let me do this again?”

Again, a muffled noise is all you can muster around Soap’s length. But he knows you want it, they both know you’ll want this again. 

Johnny’s motions directly contradict that of his bigger, stronger lover’s. He’s giving your mouth tender and sensual thrusts, sliding all the way in until the head is prodding at the back of your throat. He’s rolling his hips against your face, staring down at the striking image of you.

“Simon, please.” That thick, Scottish accent begs. He’s so close, he can feel himself throbbing. “Please…”

Leaning forward, Simon whispers into his ear, “Give her face a proper fuck, and I’ll let you cum.” 

Immediately, Soap’s fingers find your hair, using the strands as leverage to hold your head down. His hips slap down against your face, choking you with his cock. He’ll always do what Simon says. 

And that’s when Simon releases a breathy laugh, shaking his head with a mix of proud disbelief. “Cum in her mouth, Johnny.” He then says, “Go ahead.”

Simon watches and feels Soap’s body as it shakes, his cum and your spit pooling out of the corners of your mouth as you do your best to take it. It’s instantaneous, his high coming on as soon as Simon allowed it. And it makes you wonder once again how long they’ve been doing this. 

Soap’s body shivers above you, doing his best to hold himself up. His palms are pressing into the floor, the muscles in his stomach and chest tightening. Erratically, his hips jerk against your face, the melody of moans floating from his mouth absolute heaven to both yours and Simon’s ears. 

You’re gurgling on it, choking slightly from the amount. They’re both watching you, watching the white remnants slide down your cheeks. 

“Look at that…”

“Swallow it.” Soap’s first real demand of the night. 

There’s a strange order to this, to the interactions between the three of you. It’s unspoken, very clearly, but it’s there, hanging so heavily in the air you can practically feel it. Simon is above Johnny, and definitely above you. It’s in his nature to be like this, to be dominant. It’s obvious. And when Johnny’s with Ghost, he’s very clearly submissive. And now, with you in the mix, you find yourself falling into place quite nicely. Because what’s even more obvious than Simon’s dominance, is your submissiveness. 

You’re unable to gather the stickiness dripping down the corners of your mouth, but what you can swallow, you do. Your compliance earns you a proud grin from your captain, his hand returning to stroke your face lovingly. He’s so goddamn sweet. 

“Go rest, Johnny.” Kissing his shoulder, Simon speaks gently, urging him to relax. But before he does that, he’s letting his softening erection rest on your lips, watching you smile kindly as you stick your tongue out to lick him. 

“Caileag ghrinn…” (Lovely girl) 

Ghost had stopped his movements, wanting to witness his partner’s high. But as soon as Johnny’s gone, he’s focusing on you. The way he sees it, the way he hopes for it to be, is that you’re his new partner. You’re making their duo and trio. And he wants to welcome you fully, wants you to know how you’ll be treated when you’re with them. Simon could be rough but he could also be sweet. Above all, he just wants to take care of you, to make you happy. 

“C’mere, love.” Enthralled by you entirely, Simon moves over you. And he can’t get to you quick enough. 

In the blink of an eye, his mouth returns, one hand lifting to hold the hinge of your jaw. Now, he goes back to his previous movements, thrusting himself into your ass while his fingers continue to slide in and out of your sex. 

“Simon,” Your hands are holding his head, keeping him close to you. 

“I know,” He breathes, voice thick and gruff. “I’m here.” And his words do wonders to reassure you. 

Kissing him vigorously, you release a wanton moan at the sensation of his tongue dragging across your own. The force and pitch of Simon’s groan surprises you; he already loves the taste of Soap on your tongue. 

Watching from the side, Johnny catches his breath, witnessing the intimate act between you and Ghost. And the wonderful thing about it is he doesn’t feel jealousy; he’s happy, happy to see you collide and mesh with them. They’ve waited for this. 

“I’m, I…” You’re shaking, trembling in his hold. 

The thick bulge of Simon’s bicep curls beside your head as his hand lowers to hold the back of it. He knows you’re close, he knows that’s what you’re trying to tell him. 

“I’ve got you, love.” Leaning in, he kisses your cheek, his heated breaths washing over your skin. “Gorgeous thing…”

By now, you’re rocking your hips into him, into his hand and hips. “I, I need, mmh…” Fuck, you can’t get your words out. “I need you.”

“I know, and I’m here.” Simon grunts out in response, hips hammering into you. “I’ve got you. You’re mine, understand? You’re mine and Johnny’s now.” 

“Yes!” Your quiet wail makes him groan, shoving his face into the crook of your neck.

Unexpectedly, he bites down, feeling himself spill inside your tightest channel. And the foreign feeling urges you to crumble beneath him, to give in to the euphoria begging to burst from inside. 

Suddenly demanding your attention is the soft persistence of Johnny’s lips, his hand forcing your face to the side so you can kiss him. And Simon allows it, welcomes it, resting his forehead on the back of Soap’s head. You can barely kiss him back as your body convulses beneath the weight of them, your new partners. It shivers through your limbs, shooting into your nerves and washing waves of pleasure through your hips and sex. And Simon’s is just as powerful, the muscles he’s built over the course of years flexing to their limit. 

Staying inside for a beat, Ghost sighs, trying to gather himself. When Simon pulls out, he’s gentle and slow with it, mirroring the motions of his digits. He knew he’d lick them as soon as he could, and that’s exactly what he does. 

“Oh… I want a better taste.”

“Let her rest.” Soap coos, brushing hair away from your forehead. 

With kind efforts, Johnny pulls you into him, settling his back against the wall and urging you to straddle him. It’s easy, leaning on his body and accepting his soft kisses. He’s petting your hair, kissing you tenderly while Simon watches. 

“You know…” Ghost grumbles, shuffling to sit behind you. Pressing his chest to your back, he lowers his head with a contented sigh, lips trailing over the skin of your shoulder and neck. “I could get used to this.” 

[kissingkiszka]

Loved You Since Forever - Sam Kiszka x Reader

High school AU

Words: 2.1k+

Summary: A slumber party with your long time best friends, the Kiszka brothers.

CW: fluff, childhood crushes, talks of bullying, lots of acapella singing, pining, baking, mentions of fire, idk, I think that’s it?

This oneshot was very much inspired by the picture of him above!

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The Kiszka's invited you over to their house for a sleepover. You had been best friends with the three brothers since elementary school, especially close with the youngest, Sam. They also invited one of their other relatively newer friends, Danny Wagner.

You arrived to their house, your overnight bag in hand.

The eldest brother, Josh, greeted you at the door with a hug.

"Get over here you guys! Y/N is here!" He shouted, waving his brothers over.

"Y/N!" Sam waved you inside and Jake took your bag from you. They walked you into the living room, Jake placing your bag next to the couch.

"I'm so glad you could make it, it's been so long since we had a sleepover." Sam patted your shoulder.

"Sam...I slept over here last weekend." You laughed into his arm.

A few moments after you had gotten settled and Danny arrived, you changed into your pajamas. You had brought light pink silk shorts and matching tank top.

You all gathered around the couch, just catching each other up on all you've missed within the few days you hadn't seen each other in. You noticed you kept catching glances with Sam. He particularly liked the pajamas you had changed into as his eyes kept gravitating towards them.

"Alright, who wants to set up the sleeping arrangements for tonight?" Josh clapped his hands together, standing up. "Danny can take the couch." He suggested, knowing that none of them knew him as well yet, and they all wanted him to be as comfortable as possible as a new guest.

"Mom said we can order a pizza so...I'll call?" Jake asked, picking up his phone from the side table.

"Pizza sounds great!" Danny chimed in.

You followed Sam over to the basket full of blankets.

Sam began to pile out the blankets one by one, making sure to take enough for everyone. "Are there enough blankets to go around?"

"Don't worry about me. I brought my own." Danny told him, pulling a blanket out of his duffel bag.

"I don't mind sharing one with you, Sam." You spoke up, and not realizing what you had said until you saw Sam's cheeks turn pink.

Jake and Josh both shot him a discreet smile, holding in their giggles. 

Josh sprawled out on the chaise lounge next to the couch and Jake left the room to order the pizza.

Sam rolled out a blanket across the carpet, crawling onto it. You crouched down next to him and set your pillow next to his.

"Y/N, braid my hair?" He asked, turning his back to you and shimmying his long brown hair out for you to style.

You took the three strands in your fingers and began to braid it. The way his soft and silky hair felt in between his fingers felt like heaven. You were honestly jealous of his shiny luscious locks.

Jake comes sauntering back into the room, plopping himself down on the rocking chair in the corner. "Pizza will be here in 20."

"Shall we put on a movie?" Josh drummed against his thigh before jumping up and running over to their DVD shelf. He scanned his finger over the various titles before coming across the perfect one. "Aha! Pitch Perfect!"

"Josh-" Jake tried to protest but trailed off, knowing his argument was basically useless. Josh would always have the first say and was putting the movie in before anyone else could interject.

Everyone got settled in their assigned sleeping arrangements. That was until the movie somehow eventually turned into a sing along, causing everyone to get up and attempting to recreate the performances in the living room.

It was of course mainly Josh who was carrying the performances.

Jake made sure to tell everyone that his singing along to Pitch Perfect that took place in the living room, had to stay in the living room.

"Josh, I think you could be one of the Treblemakers!" You nudged him as he began to sing the riff-off.

"You really think so?" He asked, clapping his hands along to the music.

…

Everyone sat around the floor in a circle, gossiping and joking around with each other. The night was going great and you didn't want it to end.

"Let's tell scary stories!" You suggested, hugging your pillow closer to your chest.

"Alright, alright. I got one." Sam put his arm out to gather everyone's attention. "One time there was a guy named Sam Kiszka-"

"Spooky." Jake interrupted.

"Dude, shut up." Sam whacked him with his pillow as you all erupted into laughter. "And he lived with a monster. His asshole brother named Jake Kiszka."

Everyone began cracking up and you noted that Sam had looked to you, probably to make sure that you had laughed at his tale.

"Sounds scary." Josh chimed in as he took a bite of his pizza.

"You got me." Jake said through a chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

"Let's do kiss, marry, kill!" Danny broke the laughter with a new suggestion.

"Hit me." Sam spoke up.

"Hmm..." Danny tapped his finger against his chin in deep thought. "Well, there's Y/N, Mia from math class...and uh...." He pauses and shrugs. "And Audrey?"

Sam takes out the Braid you had done for him, you knew he would always play with his hair when he was nervous. He runs a hand through his hair, his face reddening. "Let's see. I'd marry Y/N, obviously." He looks right into your eyes, a certain sparkle in his. "Kiss Mia, she's nice and gave me answers that one time. And kill Audrey. She was rude to Y/N in middle school. Plus, I'm not into the whole 'prom queen' type." He finishes confidently, receiving nods from the group.

You blush as your lips creep up into an uncontrollable smile. "Thanks, Sam." You comfortingly rubbed his knee. His eyes kept looking into yours and something transpired in that moment.

"Y/N's turn!" Danny pulls you out of the daydream as he turns to you.

You took a deep breath and readied yourself.

"Jake, Josh, Sam." He lists off.

"For starters I'd marry Sam." You looked into his eyes once more as a giggle escaped your lips. He was glad to see you reciprocate the gesture. "Kiss...Jake and...Kill Josh. Sorry Josh."

"No worries, I don't swing that way anyways." He jokes.

"Ooh! Let's play spin the bottle!" Danny suggests, which quickly gets shot down.

"Dude, no fucking way. Like, half of us are brothers." Jake reminds him.

"Oh." Danny quickly shakes off his suggestion, laughing when he realizes.

After a few more rounds of kiss, marry, kill everyone had grown quite tired but nobody wanted to go to bed just yet. It was becoming that part of the night where anything anyone said was hysterically funny when Jake suggested you all try your hand at making cookies.

Josh popped open a tube of cookie dough. "If we burn the house down moms gonna kill us!"

"We're not gonna burn the house down. Give it-" Jake pulled the dough out of Josh's hands which received an uproar of cackles from everyone else. "The peanut gallery over 'ere thinks the house is gonna burn down, do you hear him?" He looks to you, Sam, and Danny while pointing to his twin brother.

Sam swipes some cookie dough on his pointer finger, and approaches you. He pretends to boop your nose and then ultimately lets you lick the dough off his finger. It was a quick and goofy moment in passing, but you knew this would be a moment you would keep coming back to.

Everyone was almost on the floor in a fit of laughter by the time the sheet of cookies were finally put into the oven.

…

Everyone had retreated back into the living room, all getting settled back into their appointed spots for the night. Sam had put on another movie, but this time it was used mostly as background noise.

Within the next five minutes, the sounds of Josh's snores began to fill the air.

Jake groaned out of frustration. "Dude, wake up!" He waved a hand in front of his face, in hopes he would somehow wake up.

"It doesn't work that way, Jackass." Sam told him, standing up and marching over to the chaise lounge where Josh laid in.

He pushed his brother out of the way and began to shove Josh.

"Wake the fuck up Josh." Jake joined in on shoving his twin.

Josh snapped awake with a gasp. He looked around the room when he realized he had fallen asleep. "Fuck you guys." He mumbled before trailing off again.

"I think he's out." Danny told them, trying to keep the peace. "Leave him be. We can fend for ourselves without him."

Jake groaned and plopped himself down onto the chair.

The cookies ended up being burnt, you were only able to salvage bits and pieces.

"And Josh said we'd burn the house down. Yeah right." Jake chuckled. "And he's the one who's asleep. Hell, if it were up to him the house would be charred by now." He laughed, making everyone else join in.

Shortly after everyone had some of whatever pieces of cookie that weren't burnt, you all laid down for the night.

...

You were awoken in the middle of the night by Josh's snores once more. Sam's leg was tangled in yours. You adjusted your position to get more comfortable in an attempt to fall back asleep, but your stirring just causes Sam to wake up.

"Y/N? You awake?" He says in a light whisper.

"No." You whispered back.

"Really? Then who am I talking to?" He asks, jokingly.

"Not Y/N." You respond, looking over at him. The reflection of the moon in the window illuminating his face. He looked so gorgeous with the way his eyes glistening at you, the way his hair was sprawled out against his pillow. He looked like a perfect painting.

He sighs for a moment, a comfortable silence coming over the two of you. The only noise that can be heard being Josh's snores.

"Hey, if his snores are too distracting...what do you say we escape to my room?"

You nodded.

He didn't even need to hear you say the word before he was helping you up and padding up the stairs into his bedroom.

He plopped himself down on the bed, patting a spot across from him for you.

"Mom says we're not allowed to be in here alone, but I think this should be an exception." He smiles. "Anything to get away from Josh and his loud snores."

"Yeah, I think you're mom would rather have well rested kids than cranky, sleepy ones." You agreed with a nod.

His fingers danced over the back of your hand and he looked at you with stars in his eyes. Even thought you couldn't see the moon shining down into him  anymore, his eyes still shined like it.

"Sam..." you finally spoke with a bold amount of courage. "Did you really mean that? You would marry me? I know your options were limited in that round but, I just can't stop thinking that-"

"Yes. I would marry you every single time." He says, flipping your hand over so he can intertwine his fingers with yours. "My options don't have to be limited, because the only option I want is you. I meant it all."

"Oh, I'm so happy Sammy." You gleamed, bringing him into an embrace.

"Me too." He hugged you back, even going as far to kiss your forehead. "Can I tell you something?"

"Shoot."

"I was actually ecstatic when you offered to share a blanket with me." He beams. "I know it's silly but, it made me feel all warm inside, like butterflies and shit. I can't believe I'm saying this but...I like you, and I have since the day we met. It's cliché and all but, it's true."

"It's not silly, Sam. I don't know what came over me when I offered, but I'm glad I did."

"I'm glad you did too." He looks down in his lap then back up to you. "I remember the day at lunch in middle school, when Audrey..." he trails off, not wanting to bring back that a bad memory of yours and ruin the moment. "Yeah, well, I remember being so infuriated. I remember thinking 'this girl is one of a kind and this bitch is just going to say this terrible stuff about her?' and I was ready to fight for you. I think that was the day I realized I loved you. And that was only when I realized it. I've loved you since forever."

"I've loved you since forever, too."

You get settled into his bed, him kissing your cheek before you both drift off to sleep once more. This time wrapped around each other and completely encompassed in each others warmth and love.

[4jax4jax]

Co-Star Chemistry

Dom Ajax Petropolus x Sub reader

Summary: You and Ajax are co-stars in a movie, but can’t seem to get your chemistry right.

Warnings: M x F, Hard Dom Ajax, choking, making out, doggy style, rough sex, crying, male orgasm, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, degrading language, hair pulling.

Word Count: 2.2K

“Cut.”

As the cameras stopped rolling and workers scrambled to wrap things up for the day, both you and Ajax let out a sigh of frustration. Despite your best efforts, your on-screen chemistry with him just wasn't cutting it.

You two had been working on this scene for the past few hours now, and just couldn’t seem to nail down the tension between your characters. The two of you had struggled to make your performances convincing, but the pressure was mounting as the director had been expressing her concerns more frequently. 

“I don’t care how you two do it, but figure out a way to make it look like you don’t hate each other, please.” 

You gave a polite nod with wide eyes and Ajax just shot her a pursed smile and nodded. As you angrily retreated to your trailer, you felt a hand grab your arm. 

“What’s your problem?” 

You turned around and saw none other than your lackluster co-star. You rolled your eyes and continued walking as his irritating voice rang through your ears. 

“You heard her back there, we need to figure something out.” 

Before you could close the door on him, Ajax reached out and pushed through instead. You slam the door behind him, making him jump. 

“Listen, Ajax. You’re a great actor, I’m a great actress, but I just don’t think we’re compatible, alright? It’s just not working between us.” 

You walked over to a counter and poured yourself a glass of water, avoiding his gaze at all costs. You couldn’t bring yourself to have any tension between him on screen, because the tension you two had off screen was more than enough. 

“Then, we can make it work. You have a copy of the script in here, right?” 

You set the glass down and crossed your arms over your chest, using your chin to point to a table behind him, where the script sat. 

He quickly picked it up, flipping through the pages until he came to a stop, his eyes scanning over the page in a frenzy to find a scene to practice with you. 

“Here. We can.. We can go over the scene we just can’t seem to get past.”

A sarcastic tone dripped from his words as he slid the script towards you. You rolled your eyes and closed the pages as you looked back at him with a distasteful look on your face. 

"Fine. But can we just get through this quickly? I have things to do." 

"Sure, but let's try to make this believable, okay?" He walked closer to you and flipped open the script again, almost making you scoff. 

"I know how to act, Ajax. Don't tell me what to do."

He grumbled something under his breath before sighing and letting you speak. You took a deep breath and fixed your hair before getting into character, slightly raising your voice at him. 

“Maybe if you fixed your attitude and weren’t such a bother to everyone around you, then I’d like to be around you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ajax took a small step towards you, and somehow you couldn't help but gravitate towards him as well. With the cameras off and without an audience of 3 dozen, everything suddenly became easier.  

“You’re insufferable to work with, you walk around like you own the place, and you think you’re some kind of genius when you’re no smarter than everyone here combined. That’s what that’s supposed to mean.” 

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back before throwing his arms up in anger. He looked beautiful, but of course you couldn’t tell him that. 

“Why do you always act like that? Like you always have something better to do than be around me, like you’d rather be anywhere else but here?”

“You know exactly why, Ajax. It’s because I’m in love with you.” 

A thick silence hung over the two of your heads as you realized your mistake. His character's name wasn't Ajax. His mouth opened for a quick moment, as if to recite his next line, but it settled on closing. You watched his Adam's apple bob against his throat. 

“Your next line is-” You had attempted to mutter out, but you didn’t stand a chance against the way Ajax suddenly leaned in to press a firm against your lips. He pushed you back against the counter, both of his arms caging your body as he towered over you. 

You softly sighed into his mouth before swiftly hopping onto the surface of the counter, pulling him impossibly closer when you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. 

Ajax sneaks a hand up to the back of your head, and softly grasps at your hair, making your mouth fall open in a choked moan.

“A-Ajax..” 

He was quick to pull at your roots harder, effectively shutting you up. In strong contrast to the assertive personality you sported just a few minutes prior. 

“Not now.” 

Your lips smashed back together in a passionate kiss, fueled by pure spite and lust towards one another. Moans poured from your mouth into his, as he greedily swallowed whatever noises you would give him. 

“Do you want this as much as I need it?” Ajax mumbled against your mouth as his hand reached down towards the button of your shorts. He didn’t bother to take them off, but instead he softly grabbed at your clothed cunt, as if it were his.

You nod and your thighs squeeze his hand tighter. He lifts you from the counter, and in a flash he throws you down onto your bed, face down ass up with your head against your pillows. 

You look back at him and watch as he pulls off his own pants, you knew the costume crew would give you both hell for not changing out of your outfits, but both of you were too clouded by pure lust for each other to care. 

Ajax caught your lust filled gaze and made quick work discarding his clothing before leaning down against your body and speaking lowly into your ear. You whimpered into the pillow at the feeling of his strong chest pressing into your back. 

“I’ll take care of you, alright? You don’t need anything else right now, got it?”

As if you were under a spell, you immediately nodded against the pillows. The warmth his body provided was short lived, and you almost complained until your shorts were practically torn down your hips, your underwear with them. 

A short gasp forced its way from your lips when you felt his finger running gently up your pussy, smearing your arousal against the pad of it. Pushing your hips back, he finally slipped the digit inside of you. He couldn’t help but groan at your warmth and wetness. 

“Hurry up.. I told you I have things to do.” 

You teasingly remark, swaying your hips as to get his attention. 

“Fine.” 

Ajax quickly removed his finger from inside of you and used your slick and sticky arousal as lube. You were almost entranced by the way the blunt head of his cock would get caught on the makeshift hole he made with his fist, it made you all too eager to have him inside of you. 

As you impatiently waited for him to get on with it already, you suddenly felt a large intrusion poking at your folds. You gasped in shock and gripped the pillow underneath you. And true to his word, he was hasty with his movement. 

In one fast movement, his dripping cock was fully sheathed inside your wetness. You could feel the mix of your own sticky slick and his thick pre dripping down your cunt, and stringing down to your plushy thighs. 

You let out a low moan at the sensation, subconsciously clenching around him as you adjusted. Ajax let a quiet whimper-like noise at the feeling, and began to shallowly trust. Your ass slapped back against his pelvis, and your soaked pussy was absolutely coating his dick in creamy white arousal. 

Grabbing onto your waist, he began to use your body as a personal fucktoy, maneuvering your body like you were nothing but an object. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, using your hips as handles to fuck into you fast and hard. 

You pushed back against his body and watched the way he threw his head back in ecstasy at the way your body moved against his. The sounds that were produced every time he withdrew himself and plowed into you were driving both of you crazy. 

“You’re amazing.. We should fight more often..” 

You rolled your eyes and clenched around him, almost making him double over in pleasure and shock. But as soon as he regained his position, he changed it just as quickly.

Ajax draped his body over yours and reached forward to grab at your jaw. Using his long fingers he forced your mouth open and dipped his index and middle into your panting mouth. Two fingers in your mouth, and three holding your jaw as he relentlessly pounded into your from behind, you were really just a cocksleeve to him. You adored it. 

“Try that shit again, see what fucking happens..” 

Whimpering, you tried to drop your head back onto the pillow, but his forceful grip on your head forbade you to even attempt it. 

“M’sorry.. W-Won’t happen again..”

He craned your neck back to face him, and despite being covered in sweat and running makeup, you looked stunning. He leaned down and pulled you towards him in a sloppy kiss. 

Ajax tongue licked everywhere possible inside your mouth, slithering over the backs of your teeth, sliding against your own tongue, everything that was once yours was now his. Your teeth clashed into his, unable to stop your body from being absolutely destroyed by his cock ripping through you. 

“You have shit to do? Finish then, right now.” 

He let go of your jaw and pushed you harshly back into the pillow, making you whine at how rough he was treating you. He planted one hand on your skull and gripped your hip with the other, using them as leverage to tear you open and permanently claim you as his. 

You reached a hand down to rub at your clit, pushing tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves as you felt your arousal drip down your fingers, and your body lurched forward with every rough thrust. 

“Fucking shit- you’re so fucking wet.. Could fuck you all day..” 

Ajax reached down to grab the hand rubbing at your clit and you whined from the loss of contact, and brought your free hand to take its place. He quickly shoved your fingers in his mouth, and his eyes almost immediately flipped to the back of his skull. He groaned from around your fingers, and sucked them clean.  

“Tomorrow, same time..”—He couldn’t stop himself from panting, like some kind of animal.—“I need to taste you.” 

You wordless agreed through a choked out whimper, you could feel the rubber band inside of you getting pulled farther and farther. With each abusive thrust from the man you hated just moments before, and with each rough swirl of your fingers against your over-sensitive bud, you were due for an explosive climax.

Despite what you had told him earlier, you never wanted this to end. His offer, ‘could fuck you all day’ sounded all too good to you. 

But it was far too late, you screamed into your pillow as you positively and utterly soaked everything around you in cum. He gritted out a loud moan through his teeth at the feeling of you fluttering and gushing around him. And despite the tightness threatening to push him out of you, he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, the one that caused you to squirt all over him, the one that he had caused. 

It was simply too much for the both of you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your body practically collapsed against the bed. But Ajax was unrelenting. As soon as your own legs and arms gave out under you, he reached under you to grip at your hips. You were pliant, nothing but a sex doll at this point, and he loved it. 

“Fuck.. Fucking love this pussy, all mine, isn’t it?” 

You couldn’t help but moan out a faint “mhm” as he used you and abused your plenty stretched hole. 

Ajax collapsed against your limp body and you felt his thrusts becoming messier, less calculated, weaker. 

“God, you feel so fucking good.. I can’t.. I can’t any more..” 

It took virtually no time at all until he exploded into you, completely painting your slick walls in his own release. As he pumped loads of warm cum into you, he groaned out breathy noises into your ear, and you couldn’t help but get worked up again just by hearing him. 

Ajax didn’t stop humping at you, and you could feel his cum spurt out of you at how much there was, and how he somehow was still fucking you. 

“A-Alright.. Down boy, you’ve had enough for today.” 

You weakly murmured as he finally slipped out of you. You flipped over so you were facing the ceiling, which you could barely see through the tears and makeup that brimmed your eyes. Ajax, still panting, collapsed against your chest, pulling your drenched body against his. 

Looking down at him, you spoke softly. 

“Think we’re good with our chemistry now, right?” 

“Yeah.. But it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.” 

[thisisallthehattersfault]

We need more Jin-sib fics

“Jin-gongzi,” he says, bending neatly into a bow, and Jin Zixuan is stepping in to grab his wrist and stop him before he’s really decided that that’s a thing he’s going to do. It’s awkward -- he’s seen Zewu-Jun do the same thing half a dozen times with such poise and grace that watching it happen felt like peeking on some kind of... private, intimate moment. Jin Zixuan very much does not want that some energy for this conversation, but he also doesn’t -- he doesn’t want this man to bow to him. It’s a strange thought, a strange feeling, but something about Meng Yao’s lowered eyes and deferential posture... it scrapes. Irritates.

“Please don’t,” Zixuan says, when Meng Yao’s startled eyes flick up to meet his. “We’re brothers.”

He doesn’t know what kind of response he expected from that. He doesn’t know -- he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he doesn’t know what he’s here to say or how he’s going to say it, he just knows he needs to do this, somehow. Still, it’s disheartening when Meng Yao takes a neat step back, face fixing into a polite, placid smile, completely goddamn meaningless.

“Of course, Xiongzhang,” he says, tone also polite and placid and meaningless. “What can this Meng Yao do for you?”

Jin Zixuan wishes, sudden and sharp, that they had grown together. He’s not... good, at people. He knows he’s. Clumsy. He always says the wrong thing and he misinterprets peoples words and actions and he steps all over everyone’s toes and it’s awful, and this man, this stranger who should not be a stranger, is harder to read than anybody Zixuan has ever met before. The only person he’s even close to good at communicating with is Mianmian, because he’s known her his entire life, and she knows him. When he’s rude on accident, she forgives him. When he’s confused about something she says, he can just ask, and she’ll explain herself without getting offended.

He could do that, he thinks, if Meng Yao had been raised beside him. Even with that perfect, porcelain mask of a smile. If they knew each other, really knew each other as brothers should, then Jin Zixuan could see through the mask, or maybe Meng Yao wouldn’t bother to wear the mask around him. Maybe he would be like Mianmian, spelling out his thoughts and emotions clearly so Zixuan could understand what was going on in his head, and do his best to try and help.

... Oh, Zixuan thinks. Oh, that’s what he wants. That’s what he’s doing here. The silent, steady synchronicity between the Lan’s Twin Jades, how they gravitate around each other like celestial bodies. The fond indulgence with which Chifeng-Zun regards Nie Huiasang, while Nie Huiasang so loudly and openly admires his older brother. Jiang Yanli’s effortless soothing of her brother’s temper, and Jiang Wanyin’s lightning-quick fury in his sister’s defense. Jin Zixuan doesn’t know how to do that. (But, oh, he needs to try.) “Can we talk?” He asks, tongue feeling thick and clumsy in his mouth. “I mean, if you’re not busy. We have -- there’s wine? Unless you don’t drink, then there’s tea. Unless you don’t like tea. Water? I could have --” “Xiongzhang.” Jin Zixuan’s jaw closes with a click. Meng Yao’s perfect mask twitches, just once, before smoothing out again, maybe just a little bit softer. Just a little bit warmer. “I would be happy with tea, thank you,” says Meng Yao. “Please, lead the way.” Jin Zixuan turns immediately on his heel and, single-minded, guides his brother past the crowded clumps of people dotting the camp and into his tent.

[koizumiyuu]

Social Outcasts

Part 12

warnings: none.

The next few days pass in a similar fashion then. (name) avoids Niragi and the rest of the more easily aggravated people, instead hanging out with Kuina and sometimes Chishiya. Her arm heals enough to no longer throb with every move she makes, and Kuina even convinces her to go swim in the pool together, when it’s earlier in the day and most of the Beach members are still asleep or recovering from the previous night of never-ending party or attending games.

When Chishiya explained the plan a few days earlier, (name) was under the impression that he has every detail worked out already. Apparently, that was not the case, and as he further explained, he still needs to scout out a person who will be completing the riskiest part of the plan. Though she has a feeling he’s leaving out some details.

This morning the Beach buzzes with a new rumor. Apparently, last night the militants recruited two new players. Everyone knows it likely wasn’t by their volition, but nobody says anything, of course. That’s just how things are here. They’ll have no choice but to adapt to the life and rules at the Beach. And if they don’t, then maybe they’re not fit to survive in this world.

The new faces show up down at the pool around midday, both already forced into swimwear and looking as out of place as ever. (name) is hanging back by herself this time, lounging in one of the chairs further back in the shade as she half-heartedly sips some cocktail of juice the clearly overly-friendly bartender mixed up for her. It’s hard to not notice the newcomers, as they automatically gravitate to awkwardly stand next to each other among the chaos of people dancing and having a good time. The stiffness is not what draws (name)’s attention though. It’s the somewhat familiar sky-blue shirt. These two were the ones who completed the Tag game she and Chishiya were in. The boy with the shaggy haircut and the athletic girl. ‘So they got roped into this too, huh? Shame, the guy looked pretty smart too… just maybe a little soft.’

Evening rolls around and the party only intensifies, before eventually, the fun part begins like every night. With fanfares and loud bass thumping, most of the drunk, half-naked, and laughing Beach members make their way to the main hall in preparation for the games where Hatter soon appears in his balcony to deliver the expected motivational spiel. (name) still has days on her visa, and her unbothered attitude has somehow made it fairly easy to slide under the militants’ radar, so she’s not attending any games herself. But she still moves with the crowd, not wanting to stand out.

Her eyes find the two newcomers in the crowd fairly easily, sticking out like sore thumbs with obviously less enthusiasm and more anxiety than the rest. Then she scans the room some more, and sees who she was looking for hanging back further away with an unbothered expression like always.

She makes her way over to him just as Kuina walks up from somewhere behind too. She smiles at (name) before following Chishiya’s gaze focusing somewhere into the crowd, giving him a questioning look.

Chishiya doesn’t avert his gaze from the two as he answers her, “We were in the same game as them.”

Kuina then looks to (name) for clarification and she just nods, equally tracking them with her gaze just like Chishiya is, “Mhm. Seemed smart enough.”

Chishiya nods slowly to her statement, adding, “They might be useful. To our plan, that is.”

Kuina just raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t comment further before walking off to find her group for joining a game. (name) silently wishes her good luck before she can catch up to that stray thought.

When the crowd starts dispersing to their respective cars, or returning to the party, (name) and Chishiya both make their way out of the main hall. Over the past week or so, (name) has gotten secretly more used to handling interactions with him, so now they even hang out by themselves sometimes. Even when Kuina isn’t around.

He’s intriguing, she thinks. For most of her life, (name) has tried time and again to limit her interactions with people. She found most of them repulsive. Selfish and careless, hiding behind a false façade of politeness and respectful words, drilled into their culture from the day they’re born. And yet they can never fully hide it, the selfishness or perverseness rearing its ugly head sooner or later anyway.

But despite (name)’s original opinion of Chishiya, he isn’t like that. He has shitty humanly flaws like all of them, but he doesn’t try pretending to be perfect, hiding behind the fake politeness. He’s selfish, and manipulative, and emotionally distant, and sure, he uses deception to make people believe otherwise when it suits him for survival. But he puts little effort into trying to appear what he’s not for most of the time. Their alliance is transactional, and both of them understand it. There’s no blown-out expectations, knowing that the other party is cooperating purely out of own self-interest.

At the start, (name) compared him to a psychopath, but after interacting with him further, she’s starting to get a feeling he’s just as done with life as she is, making him like that. It’s been a long time since she’s last been intrigued by a breathing human being, usually more fascinated by a computer screen and lines of code displayed in it. Much like many things concerning Chishiya, it’s unsettling. Though understandable, in a way.

They climb the stairs slowly, and (name) pauses at her own floor. Glancing back at Chishiya, she catches his gaze looking back in a silent conversation to follow him instead. She doesn’t question it too much, sparing one glance down the hallway before catching up to him.

He doesn’t stop at his own floor either though, instead continuing on to the very top floor and starting down the hall. Realization hits that there’s only one place they could be headed from here, and she briefly wonders how she didn’t think of coming here herself.

Chishiya pushes the roof access door open, walking through first, then holding it for her before he speaks up, “It’s less irritating to watch things from up here.”

Makes sense, she thinks. He’s one for always observing what people are doing, but staying down by the pool for long enough certainly gets overwhelming. With crowds of drunk people tripping over themselves and stumbling about.

He walks to the edge of the roof, sitting down cross-legged, and (name) follows his lead, taking a seat next to him. Sure enough, the whole pool area is clearly visible from up here, and if you lean a little, the gates to the parking lot are partially visible as well.

They sit in quiet observation for a moment, the music still clear up here but not as loud, before (name) breaks the silence, “So he’s the last part? For the plan.”

Chishiya hums in thought as if he expected her to bring it up, “I think he’d do well. Kuina’s in the same game as him right now, so we’ll see what she observes, but he seems like just the right person, you saw.”

‘Just the right person…’ (name) has some idea of what in Chishiya’s eyes is ‘just right’. The boy is fairly intelligent, but he’s soft-hearted and trusting. She briefly wonders how he even made it out alive so far. (name) nods slowly, eyes absentmindedly tracking the people dancing below, “You’ll use him and then drop him, won’t you?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees one corner of Chishiya’s lips tilt up, “Observant.”

(name) hums in response, unruffled, “Yeah, I had a feeling there was more to it.”

He doesn’t offer up anything else for now, so she speaks up again, “So why him? Why not use me or Kuina?” the answer to that is fairly obvious, but she wants to hear it from him anyway.

Chishiya doesn’t miss a beat in his answer, “Because Kuina is more useful as an ally, and you would have figured me out.”

Expected answer, yet again, and she just nods in response, not really concerned even now that she knows the full details.

A couple of hours later, Kuina is back from her game, and (name) and Chishiya meet her down by the pool again, briefly discussing what happened in the game and whether or not it was difficult. Then Chishiya encourages her to go talk to the newcomers some more, smirking in his usual way as he reasons with her to ‘make friends with them, it won’t be hard for you.’ Kuina rolls her eyes, but complies, making her way over to where the two now sit on the lounge chairs by the pool.

Their interaction doesn’t last long as soon Aguni comes strolling in, followed by his gaggle of goons and Niragi loudly ordering to cut the shitty music. At least that’s one thing out of that scumbag’s mouth (name) can agree with.

She feels Chishiya tugging on her sleeve and glances back to see him shuffling further away to not be in the spotlight. Sound idea, she thinks, following.

Aguni engages the newcomer boy, prompting him about his blond friend who seemingly hasn’t been around since the Tag game, and a brief conversation follows before he orders Niragi to bring the girl over. Niragi of course complies, always eager to act on any perverse fantasy he gets a whiff of, but to everyone’s surprise, the boy stands up in her defense, despite Kuina’s loud warning to stay out of it. (name) hears Chishiya hum in interest next to her, and her thought process is about the same. ‘Ballsy…’

Thankfully, the bullying doesn’t have a chance to escalate, as drawn by the sudden lack of music, Hatter comes to the scene, breaking up the fight, sending the militants off, and calling an executive meeting. But not before inviting the new boy along as well, whose name she now learns is Arisu. Chishiya clicks his tongue in what could be taken as displeasure at being interrupted and (name) gives him a glance.

He just shakes his head faintly, “I’ll find you later.” Before walking off after the Hatter.

Next.