#thankfully I've already written all about it

[reginrokkr]

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. Return to the surface from the Kingdom of Darkness —Black Cataclysm unbound—.

When the divine's wrath came to an end and all there was left is the hell they caused to spill open and crawl its way to the surface, a plethora of struggles were present in Twilight Sword's mind. Not only there were abyssal beasts of Rhinedottir's creation running to and from before none of them were left in Khaenri'ah territory, two new kind of monsters appeared: transcendent ones and hilichurls. The first more aggressive than the latter would not hesitate to command them to attack those who opposed the dark ways that were undercover until then. Not only that, even people who had yet to meet their end as a hilichurl, as a transcendent or by passing away with the tear and wear of countless years of life to come that found fascination in these creatures and added fuel to the flames of revenge against the Seven joined the madness.

Difficulty to discern innocent from foe was prevalent no matter how far Dáinsleif advanced. Oppose if he would against these, he would find himself under the risk of finding no other way to escape than to slay humans and monsters alike. This sense of being lost and confusion alongside his own grief and wounds sustained from fighting against the divine worsened his condition.

Irminsul was the first destination he encountered in his wayward path to go to the surface —to Teyvat—, where he would find a dying goddess he hasn't seen in the catastrophe tending the sacred tree. There, a vow was made between mortal and divine, so paradoxical in its manifestation as logic would dictate for them to be enemies instead. Understanding the dangers of Irminsul falling to the poisonous void to the entire world and perceiving its pain, Dáinsleif entrusted the last of his connection with the Axis Mundi to Rhukkadevata as a last resort assistance, key to give her the remaining power she needed to solve the crisis albeit momentarily. It wouldn't be until one day in a distant future that Dáinsleif would continue to exist, the issue would be permanently solved. One duty for another, was the deal. Having come to terms with her impending demise Rhukkadevata would give everything to restore Irminsul, while Dáinsleif would offer a vow in exchange for her absence in Sumeru: he would restore the nation's peace in her name, but also to appease his still lost self that no innocent people will suffer the wrath of the condemned.

Unbeknownst to Dáinsleif, Rhukkadevata's manifestation through the sacred bird Simurgh and her daughters.

The first daughter to be born found an unconscious Dáinsleif holding tightly a ring. Half-monster he was now, but not an ounce of demonic breath could be found in him, nevertheless. By some miracle, Zurvan's mercy or some spiritual reassurance from the now celestial plane that he is to be trusted by that which should've been forgotten but failed in the first Samsara, Dáinsleif was brought to the sea of flowers nonetheless to recover. For terribly flawed, curse and corrupted as he was, genuine innocence and purity could be found in him.

Black Cataclysm swayed everywhere left and right, with sunless and moonless black skies and a prophetic vision reflected in the shattered celestial dome. Where compatriots now turned into transcendent ones wanted to devour the last drop of purity and etheric essence of the land, Dáinsleif saw in them enemies that he reluctantly had to face at the detriment of psychological damage he would suffer in loneliness, wounds still too fresh to now slay people he once protected. But he had to. For the potential masses whose only sin was to be born under the Seven endangered by the now abyssal forces, for his Khaenri'ahn compatriots that were too weak or too afraid to come to Sumeru on their own— hard as the decision was, his heart was true and so were his intentions to dispel the Black Cataclysm from Sumerian lands.

The vast darkness was crossed by Dáinsleif, Zaruvan —the first Pari— and the one-armed sage in order to perform the Rites of Ab-Zohr and Chinvat to restore Harvisptokhm and with it, cleanse the land from the impurities of the dark hollow. Dev's demons disappeared slowly and etheric rainwater fell, giving birth to countless of Pari. In this moment, Dáinsleif returned to assist whatever Khaenri'ahn survivors were left, as there were no more dangers ahead other than the autochthonous creatures and they would have somewhere safe to reach after facing hell and back in their arduous road from Khaenri'ah to Teyvat. Though his deeds weren't recorded by humans, the Pari and the spiritual always remember his feats and regard him as nothing short of a hero for what his deeds brought to Sumeru.

But the journey is just about to begin, for there are other four nations each with their crises where the Black Cataclysm is involved and a destiny to find— a purpose to be in an unwanted and forceful existence he must bear for centuries to come.

[moonstruckme]

Heyyy! So I'm obsessed with your writing! Your EMT series might be my favourite thing I've ever read.

I was wondering if I could request an EMT Marauders x reader story where she gets really sick but thinks it's nothing and downplays it to them, only for it to end up being Pneumonia or something. And maybe they feel guilty for not realising it sooner?

I know you've probably already written something similar to this so no worries if you don't feel like writing it but I'd love to see your take it if you decide. Hurt/comfort is my favourite trope in the world. I just can't get enough of it!

I hope you're doing well!

Thanks gorgeous, hope you're doing well too <3

cw: pneumonia

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You make sure there’s plenty of honey in your tea when the boys get home. 

“Hi,” you greet them, pleased when your voice comes out semi-normal. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Sirius flops onto the sofa, nearly on top of your curled-up legs. “How was your day?” 

You try to keep your answer brief, your cough plied into submission with honey and warm tea but not for long. “Good. Got some things done.” 

You don’t mention that after every one of those things you’d had to have a thirty-minute lie down, or that many of them involved disinfecting surfaces you’d accidentally coughed near. 

“Being sick isn’t an opportunity to get things done.” Remus sinks into his chair, leveling you with a reprimanding look. “You’re supposed to be resting.” 

You shrug. “The only reason I haven’t been at work is because—” A couple of coughs fight their way out of you. James’ expression pinches as he sits on the arm of Remus’ chair, but thankfully the fit passes quickly. You take another sip of your tea. “Because I don’t want to pass it to anyone. I think I have to go back tomorrow, though.” 

Sirius makes a soft tsking sound. The boys are all still in uniform, his tattoos peeking out from the short sleeves as he traces looping circles on the side of your knee. “But you’re not better yet.” 

“Yeah, but I’m running out of sick days.” 

James frowns. “How long has it been?” 

You bring your tea to your lips, avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes. “I’ve been out for a week.” 

“But you were sick for a while before that,” he says. “What is that, ten days? Eleven?”

You shrug. 

Sirius is looking up at you with a puckered brow. “Do you feel like you’re getting better?” 

“I think so,” you say optimistically. It���s quickly undermined, however, when you’re caught up in another coughing fit. You have to set your tea down to keep from spilling it, holding a tissue over your mouth. 

James’ eyes widen, and Sirius sits up to rub your back. 

“That doesn’t sound very good,” James says. 

“No,” Sirius agrees. He reaches to feel your face, but you brush him away. 

“Don’t-—ack—don’t get too close. I don’t want to get you sick.” 

“I’m not gonna get sick, you baby.” He pushes past your hands. “Let me do my job.” 

“You just got off work.” 

“Yeah, well,” his voice softens, taking on a sympathetic hum as he lays his palm flat to your hairline, “maybe I maybe I was talking about my boyfriend job.” A pause. “I think your fever’s gotten worse, my love.” 

You whine. “Really?” 

“‘Fraid so. Have you noticed your symptoms getting worse at all?”

“I don’t” —you cough and reach for your tea again— “think so.” 

“Dove,” Remus says warningly. 

“It’s hard to tell,” you admit. “It’s moved around.” 

“Like where, honey?” James asks. 

“Like, in my…” You feel your throat contract, another fit brewing. You touch a hand to your sternum to avoid speaking. 

“In your chest?” Remus infers. 

You nod. 

He hums and moves to sit on the coffee table, his knees touching yours. You try to warn him away, but Remus shushes you gently. “Let me look at you.” 

He brings one hand to your face, feeling the way Sirius had, and touches the other to the pulse point on your neck. His touch is gentle and cool against your warm skin. You don’t know what exactly he’s looking for, but you find yourself fighting the urge to fall asleep in the basin of his palm when it slips down to hold your cheek. 

“You don’t need to talk,” says James, “but just nod yes or no, okay? Have you noticed yourself feeling more tired lately?” 

You nod tentatively. 

“Yeah? Less appetite?” 

You frown. “I don’t think—” You’re cut off by your own hacking. 

“One week off work, and she completely forgets how to follow instructions,” Sirius teases, rubbing your leg. 

“Terrible patient,” James agrees. 

“Alright,” Remus says once your fit ebbs. “I don’t have a stethoscope, but can you turn sideways for me?” 

You do, confused. Remus puts his ear to your back. You must make an odd face, because Sirius grins at you, reaching over to pinch your chin affectionately. 

“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 

You try, but it doesn’t get far. Your lungs expand maybe halfway before you’re coughing again, horrible, wracking coughs punctuated by stabbing pains in your chest. Remus sits up after a few moments, rubbing your back. 

“Sorry,” you manage. 

“Why are you sorry?” Sirius pulls you into him, cradling your head to his chest. “That sounded like it hurt, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Remus answers for you, brows bent with sympathy. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. At least now we can get you some medicine, though.” 

You cough weakly. “You can?” 

“Sounds like pneumonia?” James asks Remus. Your boyfriend nods. 

Sirius coos, petting your head. “I’m sorry, baby. I was thinking it was just a cold.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you croak. “I was, too.” 

“Feels like we ought to have known the difference, though,” James admits. When Sirius gets up, he’s quick to take his spot, tucking you underneath an arm. 

“Where are you going?” you ask Sirius. 

He’s putting his shoes back on. “To get someone to write you a prescription. The sooner we get you on antibiotics, the better. It’ll give you something to show your boss, too.” 

“I don’t need to come with you?” you ask hopefully. 

He winks, grabbing his keys. “Perks of knowing people at the hospital.” 

“Perks of flirting with the doctors, he means,” Remus mutters after he’s gone. 

“Hey,” James laughs, giving his boyfriend’s knee a playful squeeze, “it works out for us, doesn’t it?” 

“Sometimes,” Remus allows. He fixes his gaze on you. “Anything we can do to help you feel better, sweetheart? Do you want to try a hot bath? Steam would be good for you.” 

You look down into your now cool mug. “Could I have some more tea?” 

He takes it from you with a kiss to your head. “What a silly question.”

[mydarlingclaudia]

no shirt, no blouse

note : I've only ever written for Leon like, once in my life and no matter how many times I tried to fix it tumblr kept my blog and what I uploaded hidden, this is my third time trying this again so I'm not gonna be too surprised if the same thing happens. I'm sorry if Leon is ooc, this is just a Leon comfort fic

wc : 2k

desc : you taking care of Leon when he comes home from a mission. established relationship, fluff, comfort, Leon being kinda head over heels for you, mentions of injuries, re4r Leon (but not specifically his mission in Spain), pet names (baby), gn!reader, not proofread.

To you, Leon was always sweet.

In the quiet evenings when he'd come home from a mission, that's when his shell would break and he'd let himself rest. When he'd crawl under the covers with you and hold you close to his chest while he laid on his cold side of the bed that the two of you shared, that was when he knew he was officially home. Hearing you talk about how badly you had missed him and how happy you are to have him back as the tips of your fingers lightly run over any cuts on his face was like a dream to him.

His shirts would always smell a little bit like you whenever he came home, so would his pillow, he’d never admit to you that he loved it. By the time that you’d fall asleep, after the two of you ate and you washed his hair for him in the bath, he’d still be awake, despite the late hour. He’d sit and watch your chest rise and fall as you slept, his hands resting on your sides underneath the sweatshirt you slept in, the one you had stolen from him.

He had missed you, you knew that much. He knows that there’s always a possibility that he won’t be able to come home to you, or something that would keep him away from you for much longer than either of you hoped. But no matter how long it took for him to get back to you, or the amount of damage his body had taken while working, you’d always greet him with a smile. You push away all your questions and worries for the next day, content on just having him back in your arms, feeling his heart beat underneath your palm while he holds onto you tightly.

You would never be able to read Leon's mind, you thought it would be difficult to do even if you possessed that kind of power, but when his face softens as he looks at you while you help him wash away his aches and pains, you have a good idea of what's going through his head.

This time is no different.

You're sitting on the edge of your bathtub, combing your fingers through Leon's wet hair while he sits in the warm water. He hadn't said much since he walked through the door, just a simple, "Missed you, love you." You never pushed him to talk too much when he gets home, you just want him to tell you if he's hurt badly, which he hardly ever is.

There are bruises splattered across his body, all in different shades of purple and yellow. There were a few gashes that had been stitched up before he came home to you, thankfully no broken bones, just a few more cuts along his face and arms, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. You knew that the government would do a checkup on him after he finishes a mission, but you liked to look him over again in the odd chance that they missed anything or if he was trying to hide a wound from you.

He still hadn't eaten yet, but you wouldn't let it stay that way for long, you'd let him lay down in bed while you put some food together for the two of you. But he likes to sit in the tub for at least thirty minutes before he either decides he's hungry or the water's starting to cool down, you'd stay with him however long he wanted, though.

Leon shifted slightly in the tub, moving closer to you than he already was to rest his head against your thigh, the water from his hair seeping through your jeans while the soap clung to the fabric. He brought his arm up to rest over your knees, letting more water soak through your jeans while some of it ran down his fingers and onto the bathmat outside the tub. You smiled down at him, one of your hands leaving his hair to run down over the back of his neck and his shoulder blades.

You let your fingers trace over a bruise the size of your fist on the back of his shoulder, pressing against it gently. "How'd you get this one?" You whispered to him, watching as he rolled his shoulder slightly in response to your touch.

"I fell," He murmured against your thigh.

"You fell?" You giggled, letting your hand leave his shoulder and return to his hair while your gaze lingered on a few gashes on his back that had already been stitched up.

"It was raining and I slipped, sorry that I don't have a cool story to tell you." He huffed, nuzzling his face into the side of your thigh as he moved his arm back into the tub and instead let his hand rest on your knee, giving it a light squeeze.

"Do any of them have cool stories?"

"If you think me getting my ass kicked is cool, then yeah, I guess some of them do." You chuckled slightly in response, pulling your hands out of his hair to rinse the remaining shampoo off in the bath water.

"I'll ice your bruises for you later," You offered, bringing the cup you kept in the tub down to the water to fill it. "Tip your head back."

"Too cold," He mumbled softly, detaching himself from your leg and tipping his head back while you moved one hand to cover his eyes as you poured the water over his soapy hair.

"Yeah? You'd rather just let them heal for the next four days instead of three?"

"I can ice them whenever, it's no big deal."

"I get that, I'm just trying to take care of you." You say softly, removing your hand from his eyes and setting the cup of water back on the edge of the tub.

"I know, baby, I know." He quickly reassures you, laying his head back down on your thigh and pressing a kiss to your clothed leg. "It just doesn't need to get done tonight. Thank you, though."

"Yeah, of course." You nod, resting your hand on the back of his neck, letting your thumb trace over the skin that lays there.

"C'mon, let's go lay down." He pressed a few more kisses to the fabric of your wet jeans before he allowed you to stand, grabbing him a towel and holding it out to him as he got out of the tub. Leon dried himself off carefully, his body facing you as you leaned against the bathroom sink, watching him quietly.

Leon moves out of your way as you go to pull out the drain plug at the bottom of the tub, "What do you wanna eat?" You groan out softly as you stand back up, placing the bath plug down next to the cup on the edge of the tub. "If you want, I can make those little kraft mac'n'cheese microwave packages for us."

"Yes, please." He sighs softly as he wraps his towel around his waist, then grabbing you by the shoulders to place a soft kiss on your lips. "Don't take too long."

"I won't," You smile, leaning forward to kiss him gently. The kiss is only a second long, Leon chases after your lips as you pull away before he catches himself and freezes, you give his bicep a slight squeeze as you pull away and open the bathroom door.

You listen to the faint shuffling noises of Leon getting dressed in your bedroom down the hall as you microwave the small, plastic bowls of mac'n'cheese. Leon never asked you to put too much effort into cooking whenever he came home. Cereal, ramen, even just some slices of cheese and pepperoni would be fine for Leon as long as he'd be next to you in bed by the end of the night.

Leon was waiting for you underneath the covers of your shared bed as you entered your bedroom with your small dinner in each hand. He graciously accepts the food you hand to him, resting the hot bowl down on the blanket, watching you intently as you begin to change into your pajamas.

"I missed you," He mumbled to you, his eyes resting on your face as you adjusted your clothes.

"I know, you told me already." You smiled at him, sitting against the pillows on your side of the bed as Leon immediately moved to cuddle into your side.

"Thought you'd like to hear me say it again."

"I mean, I guess," You shrug jokingly, poking at your mac'n'cheese with your fork. Leon snorted slightly and rolled his eyes, leaning against you to press a kiss to your jaw before he began digging at his food.

Leon always watched you while the two of you ate in bed, focusing on the way your lips curled around your fork instead of focusing on the bowl in his hands. His eyes would trail from your lips to your eyes, patiently waiting for you to finish eating so you could pay attention to him again. There wasn’t a tv in your room, so you’d often fill the quiet void by telling him about your day or the things that you had done while he was away. He’d listen intently, even if what you were saying wasn’t all that interesting, he didn’t ask follow-up questions most of the time, instead focusing on the way your lips moved and the sound of your voice. Your days were mostly all the same; work was boring, you missed him, you went on a longer walk than usual and got a new treat from that bakery down the street, Leon loved hearing it all. He’d tell you a little a bit about his recent mission, leaving out most of the parts where he came too close to death, instead telling you about whatever scenery he saw that he deemed good enough for you to like and how well he fought.

Both yours and Leon’s bowls of mac’n’cheese are long finished by now, both of the bowls and forks left to rest on top of your bedside table until you threw them out the next day. You rested your head on his left bicep, tucked in close to his chest while you held his right hand in both your hands, your fingers running over his bruised knuckles. It was eleven, maybe eleven-thirty at night, you were well past tired, but Leon let you keep rambling on.

“I’m really happy you’re home.” You yawned, your grip on his hand and wrist tightening as you curled into him further.

“Me too,” He smiled, pulling your hands closer to his chest, he squeezed your hand back, shifting slightly to let you get more comfortable. “Go to sleep.”

“No,” Leon chuckled softly at the faint whine in your voice, watching as you let go of his hand and wrap them around his back, his hand that you were holding captive finding purchase on the skin of your waist underneath his old sweatshirt that you took as your own.

“I’m gonna be here in the morning,” He whispered as he kissed your forehead, running his hand up and down your side. “Just go to bed, baby. Don’t you need your beauty sleep?”

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

“I know that, I missed you, too. But you also look really tired right now and it’s late.” He squeezed your waist, moving his arm out from underneath your head to wrap around your shoulders. “I could listen to you talk on and on for hours, but right now I wanna fall asleep next to you. We can sleep in tomorrow, I’ll spend all day with you.”

“M’kay…” You yawned again, letting his quiet voice coax you further into your drowsiness. “You’re not hurt too bad?”

“No, you’re a great doctor.”

“Alright,” You nodded, lifting your head slightly to kiss him. “Goodnight.” You murmured against his lips, feeling him smile and run his hand along your spine.

“Sweet dreams, go to sleep now.” He whispered, tucking you back into his chest, feeling your heart beat against his chest as your breathing evened-out, signaling you falling asleep in his arms again.

[kimhargreeves]

A Flashy Act-Buggy x Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Summary: You and Luffy find yourself with new members for your small pirate crew, quickly after stealing the map to the grand line, you're all kidnapped by a crew of pirates.

(Based on the One Piece Live Action!! since no one has written about Buggy which has surprised me. Enjoy this one shot Buggy fans!! You guys can decide if you want part 2 to include smut or not😩 next part will be written depending on how well people like this🤡)

"You know I'm gonna be king of the pirates. It's the first time I've had a ship like this." Luffy excitedly told the ginger haired girl.

"I know you've told me that many times already. Can you please be silent for once?" She asked getting annoyed by Luffy's constant talking.

"You be quiet. The kid's just excited." The green man known as Zoro told Nami.

Nami was trying to open the lock which was protecting the map inside.

Both of them unexpectedly helped us, when Luffy and I broke inside to find the map to the grand line, with a bit of help from Koby who had been kidnapped by Alvida. Thankfully Luffy saved him, the young boy said he wanted to join the Marines.

Luffy and I had entered and quickly met Nami and Zoro. Zoro was tied up with Nami dressed as a Marine trying to also have the map Luffy and I were after.

I have been by Luffy's side since many years now. Since he was a small boy, I am only just a couple of years older but I was the second person who raised him. The first being my older brother,l Shanks.

Just earlier the four of us were fighting a couple of Marine soldiers with Axe Hand Morgan trying to stop us, and almost did. If it weren't for Zoro and Luffy's help then we might've already been executed.

"He's just being enthusiastic about all of this. There's no need to be so mean." I said glaring at Nami and she glared back as well.

I decided to not say anything else to her so I walked over to where Luffy was holding onto his straw hat.

He had a smile on his face when he turned to look back at me. "Can you believe this, (Y/N). We finally have have a crew. I can only imagine the look on his face if he were to see me."

"I know he'll be proud. You're slowly becoming a true pirate." I nudge his shoulder and saw him smiling as he stared at the dark skies.

"I think we all make a pretty good team."

"Why do you even protect that hat so much. It looks like to fished it out of the trash."

"One man's trash is another man's treasure." Luffy replied to Nami when she spotted him holding onto the hat.

We all looked back and saw Nami has successfully managed to open the lock. "You did it!" Nami picked the map and unrolled it. With the four of us standing close looking down at it.

Luffy didn't get it or understood where the Grand Line is, so Nami began drawing it for him so he could understand it better. Rogers treasure is hidden somewhere in there.

A loud sort of bomb was heard with the sky now turning red. We all ran out of the ship and saw something explode in the sky. Zoro was the first to fall to the floor and Nami began to cough before she collapsed.

Oh shit. I tried to cover my mouth and nose but to was too late and I also fell to the floor and collapsed.

"Shhh (Y/N)."

I jumped up a bit and opened my eyes to see Luffy a bit too close to me. I rubbed my eyes and tried to stand up but saw that the four of us were inside of a wooden box.

"What..how did we get here?"

"It wasn't the Marines work. Before we all collapsed, I saw a ship heading towards us." Luffy said with Zoro quickly replying to him.

"It'll be easy then. Marines have training. Pirates don't."

We all were quickly met with circus music when the top of the box was removed along with the rest of the box. What the hell?

Zoro, Nami and I looked at each other weirdly when we looked at our surroundings. We were inside of a huge circus tent.

Red and white colored stripes with lights decorating the place, weird looking people and a crowd that were seated but we're tied by their ankles.

The crowd continued to clap with Luffy doing the same but Nami and I stopped him.

"No no no. Stop clapping! It's all wrong"

The four of us looked over at where the voice was coming from and we all looked to our left, and saw a tall man come through dressed entirely as a clown.

Long coat, bright blue long hair with exaggerated makeup and a red clown nose.

"The spotlight was late, it missed my entrance. And where oh where is the lion?" He said standing close to a man with white bear ears?

"Heyy. I know you." Luffy said which made me look back at him wishing he hadn't spoken.The man with blue hair turned to look at us. Wait..Luffy is right, we've seen him before.

"I saw your Wanted poster at Shell's town. You're the clown guy..umm..uhh. Binky, right?" He asked.

I nudged Luffy's shoulder. "Shut up, Luffy. That's Buggy." I muttered seeing that the clown kept his eyes on us.

"Buggy." The pirate corrected and grinned. "Buggy the Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester." He said when no one spoke, seems like no one here knows about him.

"That one beside you seems to be the only one who's heard about me." I felt nervous when his blue eyes landed on me and he smiled.

I had only heard of him, and saw him on the Wanted poster. But I swear I must've at least since him once before…

He's creepy..but weirdly find him attractive. Maybe it's just my brain distracting myself from danger, who knows.

Luffy seemed impressed, "Wow. You have a lot of names."

I nodded my head and looked at Luffy, "He does. Everyone in the East Blue knows who he is."

"What did you just say?" His expression changed when I suddenly said that. Which made me confused.

"That everyone knows who you are?"

"Nose?!" I was paralyzed when Buggy came over and was now holding onto my face.

"Are you making fun of my nose?" He said a bit too close to me.

"I swear I wasn't! But..now that you mention it, is that thing real?" I asked genuinely wanting to know.

Buggy tilted his head as he stared at me, "You're kinda cute." He hummed and grinned

I saw Luffy's hand slowly started to try and tough the clowns nose until he smacked his hand away. The clown grinned looking down at me and stepped back letting go of me.

"You think you're so clever… What's real is I've been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe Hand Moron. Only to find out that I was upstaged by four little nobodies, who stole it from right under my no-…No!! It's in my head now."

"Hey! I'm not a nobody. I'm Monkey D. Luffy. And I will be king of the pirates." My best friend said making Buggy laugh.

"Oh! Now that's funny. My bounty poster graces the marquee of every Marine Outpost for miles. And my menagerie of outcasts and freaks is the most dreaded pirate crew the East blue has ever known. I am destined to find One Piece. And when I do. I will be King."

"No, you won't. 'Cause I'm gonna find it first." Luffy told him.

Zoro stepped between us and looked at the other clowns behind Buggy. "I am Roronoa Zoro. Drop your weapons now and I may let you live."

This made Buggy laugh while looking at the green haired stoic man.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a celebrity in our midst. Too bad I hate sharing the spotlight. Now, maybe we should skip right to the finale."

Buffy retrieve a set of blades and smiled at us.

"My freaks put quite a bit of a rehearsal time into this little abduction. And if I can reward them with that map.. I suppose I'll have to offer them a pound of flesh instead."

Nami stepped between Luffy and I now, now looking at Buggy. "Wait. What if I have something else to offer you? Something more valuable than the map? What if I give you a new freak for your crew?"

"A rare talent. The most spectacular act in all the East Blue. Besides you, of course."

Nami glanced back at me and I glared back. Nami has grabbed Luffy's straw hat and tossed it up, just when Luffy showed his devil fruit powers, Nami left running.

"That little bitch." I whispered glaring at where she left.

It wasn't long at all when they brought her back and she revealed that Buggy's crew had destroyed the entire town.

He shrugged his shoulders as he stared at her. "Not everything. I let 'em keep their hands."

The sign for "clap" was lifted again, making the poor towns people begin to clap.

All the lights were suddenly focused on Buggy again. "I know one of you has my map, and I'm going to get it back." He said in a serious voice now.

"What was it you said, Rubber boy? That ir was in a safe place. Don't look so surprised. I got eyes and ears everywhere."

"I know where it is." I spoke up making all eyes turn to look at me.

I began to laugh as I showed the clowns and Buffy my middle finger. "You can all suck it or shove it up your asses.

Buffy clapped and at the people surrounding him. "Okay! Let's make our guests uncomfortable in the green room." A few clowns came to grab Nami and Zoro.

While another pair came to grab Luffy, Buggy stood behind me grabbed my neck and grinned looking at Luffy and looking back down at me.

"And I am gonna have a chat with our new pals.."

[playerninth]

P.S I LIKE YOU (TOO) ⪧ DAY 13 OF PIWONTOBER

non idol!jiung x fem!reader (smut mdni)

彡 – everything transpired after a single drunken mistake—you and your best friend getting inspired after watching: ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ one friday night after midterm week had dragged on. except, you weren’t lara jean covey. and no one’s exactly a peter kavinsky in your life. all you’ve got is a last chance to retake your econ class for the second time, and an undeniably attractive guy as a project partner. a thought you wouldn’t express out loud. but what if he accidentally receives your drunk written love letter detailing just how much you thought of it so?

author's note: the way this thing had a billion revisions before reaching this stage... anyway, although i'm incredibly late TT i'm still very excited to share with you guys yet another jiung fic!! also, i can't forget to mention how amazing @kisseobie and @sxfterhearts are for hosting piwontober & bringing the p1ece community together♡ it's my first time joining these sort of events, and i had a lot of fun writing! + apologies for any typos! :(

word count: 7.9k

warnings: smut, blackmail, make up sex, face-sitting, seven minutes in heaven

comments are welcome♡ i'd love to hear your thoughts!

despite being drunk out of your mind to the point you've written that piece of tangible regret, you remember the same night all too well—the clock ticks past after hours as the mingling whiff of alcohol and a box of left over pizza hangs in the air. you were surprised you've managed to drag yourself all the way to the weekend, remnants of grueling exams left unspoken between you and your best friend whom you share a dorm room with. midterms weren't really worth mentioning when you could drown in gossip and delude about your hypothetical boyfriends.

from random guys in class, to boybands, and above all: celebrities in cheesy romcoms you've rewatched an abnormal amount. that certain night's choice was a classic between you and your best friend: 'to all the boys i've loved before.'

except, you weren't lara jean covey. and no one's exactly a peter kavinsky in your life. yet, hell breaks loose when you receive a text from choi jiung one fated morning that had you unleash a piercing shriek, and thankfully, had locked yourself in a stall at an empty bathroom in the middle of your university campus.

not like that makes things any better than they already are.

enclosed within the four cramped walls of the bathroom stall was a feeling you'd never forget—the continuous drip of the leaking faucet and silence amplified the thudding beat of your heart. the screen of your phone glowing faintly as you stare at the message you've left on read for the past five minutes: a photo jiung had sent of the letter you've written that certain night after getting wrongfully inspired from lara jean's dilemma. unfortunately detailing an exaggerated confession on your unfiltered thoughts of jiung being totally attractive. hot, even. a running commentary on everything you wouldn’t express out loud.

this fiasco would probably cost you a couple of months avoiding a bottle of soju, because how are you going to dodge yourself out of this one? especially when his follow up message adds further salt to the wound—the envelope clearly stating your full name and address in bold, inked letters.

the seconds stretch out as the cramped stall started feeling a bit stuffier, your shaky fingers hovering over the keyboard in contemplation. you’d normally block him and just fail the damn class if it were like any other instance, except… it was your last chance to retake this subject. you couldn’t afford another fuck up.

[9:07] jiung: this letter’s handwriting strangely matches the one on your notes

[9:09] jiung: before you try to deny anything

all you ever wanted at that moment was to strangle yourself... because a love letter so vulnerable like that has no place being in a pile of notes, and to be given to your partner for a class project. when you thought handing him the material would be the end of it (after being utterly sick of his self-centered work ethic), but the universe had plans otherwise.

[9:13] y/n: it wasn’t something you’re supposed to see

[9:14] jiung: but i did

[9:16] y/n: i was drunk, okay? can we please forget about it?

[9:18] jiung: and people say drunk words are sober thoughts

[9:20] y/n: do i look like i care about stupid bullshit like that rn

[9:22] jiung: oh

[9:22] jiung: so you don’t care if people other than me see this letter?

[9:23] y/n: what

[9:24] y/n: you can’t just use that against me??

[9:26] jiung: let’s see how well this thing means so much to you then

[9:27] y/n: ???

and when you thought you’d never see the pulsating, message bubble as he types as such a dreadful thing, your nerves suspended in the most excruciating minutes. 9:28, 9:29… 9:30...

[9:31] jiung: main library, 2pm, this friday. oct 13

that was, a distant week ago. you figured you should probably show up this time, all in the name of having the existence of the letter stay between the two of you. even if it meant having to deal with the growing habit of waking up in the middle of the night from the anxiety crawling upon your thoughts. until once and for all, the day came.

your feet felt rather heavier that day, dragging your mopey figure through the winding halls of the university. the halloween spirit on campus feeling far too suffocating, the orange and black streamers hanging from the ceilings a mere blur. other people were buzzing about the upcoming university halloween party at the end of the month, yet all you ever wished was that you were some random skull decor perched at a corner, undisturbed. and that you weren't nearing the doors to the main library, a sight that you loathed with your whole being.

and there he was, choi jiung. the guy wreaking havoc in your life. okay, well—maybe not that actively, but he's been a constant force you're trying to push toward the back of your mind ever since you made such a stupid mistake, to the point you don’t even know how you could redeem yourself.

“hey,”

“hey.” you're surprised you even managed to croak out a reply, finding yourself unable to maintain eye contact with him for more than two seconds–pathetically.

you were about to claim the seat in front of him before he raises a familiar envelope nestled within his fingers, and you wasted absolutely no time at the chance. snatching the thing with vigor just to rip it to smithereens, earning a few glares from other people in the library. you couldn't care less.

jiung lets out a laugh underneath his breath, adorably irritating so, as he watches fragments of the letter fall before him like confetti. you finally settled on a seat across him, and the further time dragged on, the more it seemed to prove your written letter right.

he was undeniably magnetic, from the way his clothes drape over his shoulders, his bangs framing his face with its stark black—the waft of his perfume despite the distance. your gaze can't help itself from shifting over to his fingers with every turn of a page, almost as if he was the perfect distraction.

and that tie sitting on his collar, really? what was his major again? you couldn't be bothered to muse over whether or not academia fashion was a staple for whatever program he was taking, especially when you couldn't blame him. 'cause he truly held a sort of charm that makes you wanna ravish him right then and there. that you had to remind yourself: time and place, his glasses beginning to lean crooked subtly to the side before his finger pushed it further up his nose bridge. ultimately turning back to you—who already had eyes on him, locked.

jiung speaks, faintly registered in your currently preoccupied head. honestly, the only qualm you carry against him is that he wants to get things done, his way. which is partly the reason why this partner project has gotten awry, his ego clashing a horrible amount with your stubbornness. guess not everyone can have it after all.

of course you had to have it figured out eventually. even if it had to cost you biting down your tongue from spewing possible scathing remarks with his every word. due to the fact that any moment you tried to challenge his ideas, he'd quote all the lines he could possibly remember from your embarrassing letter. and it was only the librarian's stare pinning you down from grabbing jiung by the hair out of annoyance, because the both of you were causing quite a bit of disturbance.

“you know, i can't deny that little love letter of yours was kinda cute.” he leans forward, loving the way your face morphs into irritation.

“cute? you think it's cute that i accidentally confessed about—” you caught yourself, clearing your throat before rolling your eyes at him. “i mean, whatever. just concentrate.”

“hey, hey. finish it. about what? your quote on quote, suppressed feelings for me?” god, you so badly wanted to slap that smirk out of his face.

you could only manage to groan, running a hand through your hair. “no! i mean my deep annoyance at your inability to take me seriously, to take this project seriously!”

“excuse me, could you keep it down? this is a library.” you immediately turn towards the librarian, clutching a hand over your mouth at the realization that you might've… raised your voice a little too loud.

“sorry,” you muttered, eyes fixated on your notes sprawled over the table. “we were just—”

“working very loudly?” the librarian cut you off, and the worst part is–jiung still had the audacity to look at you with much mischief in his eyes. and that stupid smirk. “if you can’t keep quiet, i'm kindly asking you to leave.”

and that was… the last of what you've heard once you began gathering your things out of embarrassment, jiung trailing behind you like a lost puppy as you pretend you don't even know who he is, walking towards the nearest exit.

maybe choi jiung really is a constant force in your life. despite the day at the library being the last time you’d spend with him until presentations came tomorrow, it felt as if he never really left your mind. constantly drifting like a cloud over your head, lingering. and you so desperately wanted to bury him as a distant memory. busying yourself with other major projects, going out with friends, and the main event that the everyone’s been buzzing about for weeks: the awaited university halloween party.

it worked to distract you for the most part, lost within the crowd sprawled over the expanse of the green field, now only a crackle of grass beneath your heels. lights flickered along with the thump of the music’s bass. you watched the collective silhouette of people dressed in costumes, either tipsy out of their mind or buzz undying. you’d probably be seen with a red cup full of alcohol in hand, if you hadn’t sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t be touching a bottle of soju until a few months time. remnants of your little disaster from not too long ago trying to haunt you.

and so you turned to the cold air nipping at your bare skin, which you have to thank your skimpy little black dress for. the racy outfit you’d put together in an excuse to dress up as a witch, seductively at that. you partly regret bringing your witch hat with you despite contemplating about it a while ago, having to deal with the thing repeatedly slipping over your eyes. making a simple task of opening your phone to a flood of text messages, a challenge. after a couple of foiled attempts, you managed to get the gist—and that your friends are waiting for you at some frat house to join an after party.

the main event endlessly unfolds despite midnight fastly approaching. dragging your feet towards the front part of the crowd where it pulsed with much more energy, hopefully making your way towards the right direction of the area near the frat house. the music echoed like it wanted you to stay for a while, lose yourself to the beat as you tried to keep your witch hat tilted upright. not until another drag of the hat back up had your eyes flickering towards the dj manning the booth. keeping the night alive as lights hung overhead, casting a glow behind his figure and perfectly accentuating his side profile. yet the more your gaze traced the curve of his nose, the tousle of his hair as he let himself move to the rhythm.

for a split second the lights confirmed your suspicion, except you didn’t want to say anything. say his name, his everything, crawling back to your mind. you’d even forgotten why you were trying to erase him from your thoughts. maybe, just maybe… it wouldn’t be too bad to keep your eyes rested on him this time around. and it wasn’t as if you could turn away if you tried regardless.

there was something about catching sight of this side of him you never knew he had. at that moment, it felt like it was only the both of you existing in a bubble of your own. there was quite a distance between his position at the makeshift stage and yours below; nevertheless, the sparkle within his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. and in that moment nothing else mattered, the difficulty of trying to tear your stare away from him weighing over you.

no, no, no. not again. not this time.

the after party at the frat house, right.

reality comes crashing in once more, blinking rapidly as you tried to bump your way through the crowd. glancing everywhere you could to seek refuge, any way out, somewhere. mind racing with a mantra, “forget him forget him forget about him,” suppressing everything you’ve ever thought of the moment you laid eyes on him. chalking it up to the fact that it was probably your unrequited feelings for him hitting you like a brick. but… it wasn’t like you were ever serious about him, weren’t you?

your feet felt heavy trying to keep him out of reach, away from the taunt of his presence. the further you tried to push through what seems to be the edge of the field had you jostled within the crowd, and it didn’t help the flashing lights began disorienting your vision. you hastily fish your phone out, scrolling for past messages to double check the location of the frat house. except you realized, you weren’t really sure where to go from here.

your chest tightens. trying to take in sharper breaths as the mass of people were closing in around you, trying to push more, yet was met with more resistance. the smell of alcohol and loud noise started swallowing you, panic rushing through your veins. this is bad. this is really really bad.

and all of a sudden you heard a faint call, your ears picking it up with its subtlety. it was a brief echo through the music, until you heard it once more.

“y/n! over here!”

you swiftly whip your head around to scan the blur of faces, pulse quickening—at last, your gaze landing on someone familiar.

“i’ve been looking for you for ages.” he pants, trying to catch his breath from approaching you through the tight crowd. yoon keeho, although clad in a rather comical vampire costume, brought you a sense of relief.

“you okay? you look…”

“yeah, i’m just…. i got a bit lost.” you admit, lacing your fingers through your hair after finally taking off your witch hat.

keeho lets out a laugh beneath his breath, earning a piercing glare from you before extending a hand out to point. “you’re better off at the after party with me, everyone else is here so… it isn’t too crowded there yet.”

you hum, clutching your purse before following as keeho steps towards the way out. “come on,”

and at that, the both of you slip away from the field with its chaos, music fading far beyond the distance.

within the frat house lingered the scent of alcohol from a previous round of beer pong. it was dimly lit, but you’ll know empty red cups are strewn around from its hollow crunch beneath accidental steps. the door trickled bit by bit with newcomers, the party outside eventually simmering down to a hum, occasionally cut with bursts of laughter and constant conversation. thank god keeho had found you.

yet that was a while ago. you couldn’t decipher the exact time but it seemed way past midnight. it was a stark contrast to the huddle of people buzzing in excitement, your figure amongst them in a circle on the floor. it was probably, what… like the third or fourth round of seven minutes in heaven? the poor closet door slams open to another couple exiting, far too all over each other than you’d like to witness.

it was like that for the past thirty minutes, having to sit through rounds of people shutting themselves within the closet as you were forced to hear thumps against the wall hear and there—and you’d rather not find out what had gone on. the soju bottle in the middle of your formed circle felt like a threat as it waits to be spun, yet you couldn’t manage to grasp out of the situation from keeho’s grip on your wrist.

“you’re not leaving until the bottle points to you.” his fingers tighten his hold, his other hand bringing a drink up to his lips.

"keeho, i don’t know these people!” you whisper-shouted, narrowing your brows at him.

and it wasn’t helping that it was proving especially difficult to take him seriously with the vampire get up he had on. "that’s the thrill about it? and when i thought you’ll live up to your words when you told me you’ll get out of your comfort zone right after high school.”

it was probably your over-ambitioned self talking back then. “we’re only juniors. we have plenty of time.”

"plenty of time? you only have a year, y/n”

you didn’t bother responding, yet he’s still trying his best to provoke a reaction out of you. “no one really stands out to me right now among these strangers if i’m going to be honest. but… maybe you’ll find someone that’s your type—”

"keeho, how many times do i have to tell you that i really don’t give a fuck about anyone else here right now.”

"yeah, that! fuck.” he drags the end of his sentence in such an overly teasing tone, flashing him a look like he just said something so outrageous, because indeed it was...

"mess around a little bit, you know. get frisky in that closet or something.”

"seven minutes isn’t enough for that.”

“yeah, you would know.”

you were on the verge of landing a smack over his shoulder when a chorus of gasps erupted, drawing your attention.

and just your luck, the bottle points to you.

all you could muster was a defeated sigh, waiting for the soju bottle to spin once more to select the stranger you’d be stuck with in that closet for an excruciating seven minutes. except it never came, and only a hand reaches out to snap you out of your thoughts.

“shall we?” oh. it was that same voice you wished you weren’t at all familiar with, looking above the shadow looming over you. akin to a moth towards a flame. and it’s just a matter of figuring out who’s who between the two of you.

choi jiung, wearing a smirk that tugged on his lips that you almost wanted to slap off him, like always. you did—well, slap his hand away from your face, rolling your eyes before rising and rushing towards the closet door as he follows.

you almost missed keeho’s words, “is that…” a comment faint in volume when he recalls the day you told him all about your ‘jiung fiasco’ during a phone call.

you drowned in silence inside the closet, not even bothering to turn the light on. figures slumped against the wooden walls across each other. you hugged your knees to your chest, hyper aware of how cramped the space was and your paralyzing fear of having your legs accidentally brush against his.

all you could hear was the frantic hammer of your heartbeat within your chest, sighing in relief that he couldn’t see the flush creeping over your expression. him, well… the most you could make out from the dimness was the stupid mask you hadn’t realized he put back on.

“take that damn ghostface mask off before i punch it out of your face.”

oh, and you regret saying that, 'cause he truly took the mask off, “as you wish.”

he looked so unbelievably hot. annoyingly disproportionate to his simple costume of black fabric draped over his figure, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders just right. along with his hair falling over his eyes and—no. not another monologue of being down bad. enough.

silence hung in the air once more, not like it ever left, but the noise from outside seemed to have drained away and all it was in the moment were you and jiung, paused.

"so, what’s up with… the situation lately?” he speaks up, breaking the silence.

"you know…” you find yourself trailing off, voice small.

"know what?"

“the letter,” you finished his sentence, fragility within your words. “i never meant for you to see it.”

"you’re mad because i found out about it? y/n it’s just a letter—”

"to you, jiung. for me it was my vulnerable thoughts out in the open. t-too personal.”

your voice began to break, the air feeling heavier by the minute. the absence of sound failed to muffle the thud within your pulse. further amplified when he rests his hand over yours perched atop your knee, his touch noticeably warm. you didn’t pull away.

"right, i’m sorry. i understand, i shouldn’t have said that.”

“it’s okay. it was a mistake of mine and—i kinda… made it feel weird between us because of that.” jiung’s lips part in search of words, though you couldn’t see. his fingers tried fiddling with yours, an attempt to ease your tentative tone.

"weird how?”

"you know, ‘cause…”

"hm?”

"shut up,” fuck. you weren’t supposed to let that slip out of your lips, far too affected from how effortlessly attractive he sounded from a single, minor hum. and he didn’t even mean for it to come across like that. “sorry i, just. i can’t face you right now.”

"take your time, y/n”

yet how can you think straight when he says your name like that? the softness his voice held, the gentle tone making your heart skip a beat without fail.

"i was just caught off guard when you… did the whole blackmail thing. i’d—i thought you would just laugh it off or whatever.” you scoff lightly.

"i wouldn’t ever mock you like that. i mean, i kinda did… joke around with you at the library but! i meant it, lightheartedly.”

"mhm.” his fingers remain fidgeting with yours, your eyes drifting downwards. “i just, wanted some space. it was humiliating for me, okay?”

and then it hit jiung with a click. he might’ve went too far with the whole blackmail thing. “i get that. i never meant for you to feel that way, i just… wanted a chance to talk to you further. and spend maybe... a bit more time together.” he clarified, eventually lacing his fingers with yours, closely.

"but deep down i kinda knew you wouldn’t like, rat me out to whoever. it’s part of why i came to like you—sorry i… i know you don’t like me back and i keep talking about my feelings for you and—”

"i never said i didn’t like you back.”

"huh?”

"tell me, when did i ever tell you i don’t like you?”

the question looped within your mind. except all that there ever was is a cloud of uncertainty, his intentions slipping through your grasp like sand. what does he even mean?

"jiung, you’re confusing me.”

then all of a sudden you watch as he bursts into laughter, and you hastily grab his ghostface mask from a corner to playfully smack it against his head.

"you’re so unbelievably dense.”

you click your tongue, shoulders slumping in defeat. "it’s always been a problem of mine, i just don’t know how to handle my feelings.”

the next few words came out almost in a whisper, despite feeling your most vulnerable. “it’s probably why i… don’t have much experience with… this kinda stuff, unlike my friends.”

his fingers ceased playing with yours, now taking both of your hands in his, enveloped around yours like it were meant to be like that. warm.

“you don’t have to deal with this alone, y/n”

the moment wound down once more at the silence that fell.

"okay, look. i’ll just say it once and for all.” his tone is firm, almost commanding you to lift your gaze up at him. “i really, really like you. and i want to be with you. can we start over? please?”

you didn’t know what to respond at that instance. held frozen in place, but the rush of emotion through your nerves acted otherwise. all at once, it came washing over you like a wave.

"jiung?” you call out to him, as there goes another one of his hums. “you mean it?”

"of course i do.” he’s kneeling before you now, so damn close, it felt like your heart’s going to jump out of your chest. your pulse picks up, racing, as his other hand remains interlocked with yours and the other sneaks to caress your cheek.

jiung’s inching closer with every passing second, the air thick with anticipation as if it wasn’t already so stuffy from the cramped space. your eyes flutter shut while the only thing you could sense is the warmth of his breath against your lips. tilting your head subtly to the side, was that how they did it in the romcoms? failing to realize that you’re beginning to clutch his hand in yours harder that—“seven minutes is up!”

the closet door swings open without warning, your hands flying to push jiung away as his back meets the wall with a slight thud, watching the light stream into the cramped space. all over too soon.

yet it was just the catalyst to your eager desire; unable to take your hands off each other the moment you stepped foot outside of the closet. more like it was jiung getting rather handsy, his palm warm over the small of your back. even unabashedly pulling you closer to his side once you sink back down with the rest of the huddled group playing seven minutes. you’ve no reason to stay here anymore.

it came fleeting rather quickly, one moment he had you by the hand out of the door to that damned frat house, traversing through the empty, wasted field and towards the direction of the university dormitories. from the slightest ounce of privacy that touched your fingertips, you started yearning for more. as you reached the floor to your room, jiung wastes no time trapping you against the corridor wall, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“can i?” he mumbles against your skin, rather sensitive. and you would think he’s incapable of holding back a little kiss during the heat of the moment. except he still asks, lips beginning to ghost over you, bare.

"you don’t look like you could wait for—hngh, anything else.” you struggle underneath his grip, his hands fastening your wrists against the wall as he pushes against you impossibly closer. “i wanna hear you say yes.”

he follows, trailing further up that his nose subtly bumps on your cheek. you feel like you’re turning insane, the more time dragged on and he keeps holding back.

“please jiung, want you all over me…” you whine, a bit more when he finally presses a soft kiss over your flushed cheeks. he looked irresistible, pulling away to stare down at you with his eyes; glossed with hunger.

“even better.” and this time he inches closer once more, his lips hovering over yours tentatively, waiting for you to bridge the gap. and so you did, kissing him back with as much fervor. completely forgetting about the fact that this was the first time you’ve properly made out with someone, and you weren’t even quite sure if you’re doing it right.

it were as if jiung had a sort of sixth-sense, holding you gently by your jaw as your lips weave into a searing kiss, wet by the second as his tongue peeks out. sliding over your bottom lip. “i got you, relax.” he utters, the rumble of his voice traveling straight to your core.

jiung pulls away for a brief moment of oxygen, crashing his lips back to yours. sliding his tongue into your mouth this time ‘round, and you melt against him—weak in the knees as he rolls his wet muscle sinfully against yours.

“can’t get enough of you already,” it was a mystery how he manages to slip a few words here and there, from your pathetic state struggling to keep up with his desperate pace. proving truth to his words when the swirl of his tongue was followed by suckling on your own, that all you could do was mewl, you poor little thing.

it was dangerously risqué, anyone could simply walk into the sight of your sorry state, falling apart fully if it weren’t for jiung holding you up. keeping you upright despite the evident wobble in your knees as he continued to ravage you wantonly, done with his assault on your tongue that he’s moved to subtly bite on your bottom lip, bruised.

"mhmm.” you shudder, swallowing in a moan when he turns to the shell of your ear instead, tracing it sensitive, his spit cold once the air hit. and so he sucks, like he obsessively does, feeling every gentle flick of his tongue rush straight to your core.

you’re already so embarrassingly wet despite still being fully clothed, and his hands had done nothing but to remain over your cheek all this time. his nails raked against the thin fabric of your skimpy dress, mind turned to mush as the only thought you could render was that he needed to touch you right now. futher, more… more than you could ever fathom to beg for him out in the open.

“jiung…” you whimper, right against his ear. feeling his pants get uncomfortably tight that he just has to redirect his energy into smothering you, littering wet, hot, open-mouthed kisses on the expanse of your sensitive neck.

“yes baby?” it took him quite a while to respond, the petname sending a flutter in your chest. he tries to hold himself back before he began to litter nibbles over your skin.

his fingertips are a prickle over your body, finding yourself struggling to respond. mind blank, and you couldn’t even remember why you called out to him in the first place.

“mhmm,”

"you’re already so, horny. aren’t you?”

he’s met yet another smack to the shoulder, probably the nth time from yours this evening.

"don’t say it like that!” you tried leaning impossibly closer, your tone much less than a whisper.

nonetheless, jiung’s brain was equally as foggy, the impact of your hit disregarded. from his point of view, it was unbeknownst that your mind was swirling with how to break the looming silence. the only thing that had his attention in a headlock was the intoxicating sight of you, looking up at him, eyes glossed over in feral desire

your lips adorably bruised, proud of his insatiable work from earlier. your cheeks flushed and brows frustratingly knitted together. it was as if you’re wordlessly begging for him to kneel before you. in fact he would, right at the first syllable of anything you’d utter. and right past that was a sight behold, the swell of your breast, cleavage peeking underneath your outfit.

fuck, he needs you, mind driven towards delirium from his longing to touch. within the warmth from the palm of his hand, undoubtedly even better if he had his mouth on them, loving it wet. he needed you. so. so. badly.

"did you drink?” your voice was delicate, snapping him out of his trance.

“no.” and he was saying the truth. no sip of alcohol carried the same effect of his drunken want over your everything.

this time you took initiative, interlocking fingers with his as you dragged him towards your dorm room. every step you took in the hall felt electric, finding yourself fumbling with the key through the door as jiung’s hand teasingly dips past your waist.

at last pulling him inside, closing the door with a slam as you resume ravishing each other’s lips. you’re too dizzy at this point, his forehead pressing against yours as tries to keep you close. and with every step backwards goes a wet peck, bodies trailing toward your bed until your legs hit the edge.

and so he pushes you, gently, attempting to hold yourself up with your elbows toward the headboard. not until jiung grabs you by your thighs, nails digging over the plush—from that he abruptly yanks you back toward him and earns a surprised mewl.

“don’t go anywhere.”

“jiung, ‘m not.” yet he doesn’t answer anymore, resting his arms on either side of your head. you’ll never catch him without his lips on you, searching, sucking less than harshly that he might as well leave a mark. every nibble and flick of his tongue had you writhing beneath, and you couldn’t help but spread your legs open. hoping he’d take the hint.

he’s turning you breathless, with every press of his lips over your skin igniting such flame in your tummy.

“touch me jiung, please,” you finally cry out, driven crazy when your cunt’s clenching around nothing, wet yet untouched.

“where baby?” jiung rises from busying himself with your neck, only realizing just how much effect he had on you now that he’s gotten a proper view.

you lay there, helpless beneath his figure with your hair disheveled. lips parted from panting, chest heaving up and down.

“here,” you replied, out of breath. turning your head to the side abashed, that you couldn’t even grasp the fact that you’d reach this point. jiung meets your hands, letting you guide his hold toward your clothed breasts.

he couldn’t help a subtle smile tug on his lips, “you’re so damn cute,” jiung teases, swiftly pressing a kiss on your exposed cheek. “i’ll make you feel good, alright?”

please, you’d probably whine out, if you weren’t wallowing so much in the shame of drawing his touch right over your breasts. even so, he’s eager to pry you apart, relishing in the fact that despite your inexperience, you still push through, for him—communicating what you truly wanted.

and it left him with the inclination to fulfill it.

jiung groped your sensitive mounds through the fabric, turning your breathing ragged by the minute. god, you’re already so sensitive, and with every fleeting touch of his hands against your breasts, went to travel straight down to your cunt. sopping wet as you pushed your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the sticky feeling of your panties. proving useless. he then slips his fingers beneath the edge of your dress, thankfully strapless. right atop your chest, pulling it down until he’s met with the sight of your lacey little bra. “pretty,”

and yet he doesn’t show a single trace of rush carried in his actions, feeling you up to build the thrill, groping. “jiung...” you beg, reaching out to his wrist.

“patience,” he sounded curt, but the way he gently fondles your clothed breasts said otherwise.

right when he’s dragged as much of your dress down as he can, jiung catches you off guard—promptly sliding his hands beneath your bra that had your breath hitching. the warmth of his palms flush against your nipples, already perky, yearning for his touch.

jiung just has you pliant beneath him as the vulgar scene unfolds, tenderly groping, fondling your tits along with occasional pinches to your sensitive buds and making you mewl without fail. turns him on so so much, seeing you exposed so adorably that you had let go of all sense left within your body.

it didn’t take too long for him to come to a point, he couldn’t help himself anymore. the erotic sight of your desperate state rutting your clothed cunny up against his torso, helplessly. jiung finally hikes your bra up, your breasts spilling out of a fabric in such a way he can’t resist salivating over your vulnerable image.

and so he wastes no time. if you weren’t so lost within such a sensual trance that had your eyes fixated on the ceiling, you might’ve gotten the chance to catch jiung’s expression, his eyes completely glazed over. hungrily, he encloses his lips around your nipple, the warm wetness of his tongue swirling and flicking against the bud with abandon.

you swore your cunt begins to clench around nothing as he continued his work on you, skin erupting in goosebumps as he relentlessly sucks on the bud; lewd sounds filling the expanse of your dorm room. he doesn’t let your other breast get neglected, fondling its plush with the sporadic flick of his thumb over the bud over and over. ultimately urging you to hump against him suffocated in lust that’s taken over your whole being.

“ahh… jiung—” all you could manage to sputter out were pathetic whimpers, head thrown back as you sink into the mattress. his actions were a medley of flicking his hot tongue on to the other bud, switching, towards rapid kitten licks with his lips fully enclosed around it. eventually withdrawing with a short pop from the messy slick of his drool. once more diving back in to continue his feral abuse on your sensitive nipple. “feeling good?”

and you couldn’t even manage to choke out a reply even if you wanted to, drowning in suffocating desire. jiung pulls away, the hunger in him still begging to get satiated, his cock hard in his pants. a string of spit between your bud and his lip, glistening as it snapped.

anticipation overtakes you once more as he gently pushes your breasts together, flushed before craning back in to tongue over your swollen nipples, moving his head side to side in a frenzy. and you’re just so far gone, the warmth of his tongue licking over your buds with each turn. your already helpless state reduced to a mess, only able to splutter out hoarse moans. and he hasn’t even touched your needy cunt yet.

you had to pry him away from you, it was enough—more than enough before jiung manages to drive you towards an orgasm from merely stimulating your tits, having enough of embarrassing yourself in front of him. you’re not about to cum this early on, clothes barely taken off. you entwine your fingers through his hair, and just when he lets you breathe does he really see what he’s made of you.

sure, he looked disheveled as well, spit by the side of his lip. except you’re far worse, legs trembling from the growing wetness from your center, eyes lidded in a struggle to keep them open. blissed out of your mind and still, all you’ve ever wanted to see was jiung ravaging you like an animal.

“wanna take this all off, jiung…” he’s watchful, hooked on your voice that’s starting to turn a pitch higher than before.

“want more,”

lust bubbles within his chest, listening as you wish despite your struggle finishing sentences out of daze. “want to feel good with you,” your fingers try to reach beyond jiung’s chest, not making it far down but hoping he’d take the hint. swearing that the further you went without relief from your uncomfortable, sticky panties, the more you’ll spiral insane.

you began pulling the rest of your dress down in a hurry when jiung stops you. meeting your eyes glossed over as if you’re on the verge of tearing up from the pleasure, quite so. flashing him a puzzled look.

“i don’t have a condom with me.” he finally brings it up, fingers slowly tracing the curve of your wrist.

“me too…” you replied, sullen. jiung feeling guilty from discreetly thinking you looked adorable from the pout on your face.

at that moment you saw the instantaneous spark of idea carried in his eyes. any other day, you’d probably shoot him a glare, but now you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. especially when he’s had you wrapped around his finger, vulnerable and exposed, feeling your nerves ignite from the tension.

“you can sit on my face baby.”

“what?”

“sit on my face.”

he repeats it so matter-of-factly that it left you completely speechless, in a struggle to find the right words in response.

“jiung, i– it’s my first time and—”

“i know” his tone is reassuring, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “and i want you to know that i got you.” you could only conjure a feeble whine. ‘cause what does he mean with the fact that the two of you were just bickering a few weeks ago, and now he wants you to smother his face with your cunt.

“think of it as payback.” he spoke, his voice holding a honeyed warmth.

“use me however you want, after all, i’ve caused you enough problems with that letter.”

well, it was the last you’ve coherently heard of him that night. especially when everything he tried to say came out muffled while he’s got quite literally a mouthful of your dripping pussy. the lewd scene unfolds within the privacy of your dorm room, relieved that your roommate hadn’t decided to return yet. and if you could still recall whether or not these walls were soundproof.

everything that unraveled was such a filthy sight. your black dress, bra, and panties with it’s notable patch of your arousal on the fabric—discarded in a pile somewhere on the floor. it was the least of your worries when you’re currently sitting snug over jiung’s face, cunny rubbing against his wet, warm tongue that had your knuckles clenched and holding onto the headboard for dear life.

making sense of how the hell you’d gotten yourself in this position, taking into account that it’s your first time delving into anything frisky. however, you were running on nothing else but raging horniness, maintaining your desperate rhythm as you ride his face. grinding your hips in haste, folds slick as you use his tongue to get off. just so damn erotic.

it was truly pushing you towards the edge faster than you’d like to admit. his tongue sliding in and out of your pulsing hole, lightning fast. slick kitten licking against your clit over and over, when it isn’t the tip of his nose bumping on your pleasured, swollen bud.

fuck, it was a far more tantalizing sight as you turned to look behind you. through your lashes, watching jiung’s obscene state—his pants dragged down, jerking himself off, fast. his hand gripping his cock just right, up and down, wishing it was your pulsing cunt squeezing his shaft right now.

he made it a point, the next time he gets to ravage you senseless, you’d be crying out having enough of his cock plowing into your hole.

now it was just you you you, using him like he insisted you did.

jiung begins to amp it up, eager to send you towards your high. his tongue simultaneously slipping in and out of your hole before dragging back up, flattened to flick at your clit—god, it felt insatiably good, the pace in which you roll your hips on his face grew faltered. thighs turning wobbly as you neared your climax.

“hahh—fuckkk… jiung, you… you make me feel so good,” you pant, breathlessly fucking yourself on his tongue.

the best he could do was to hum in reply, against your clit, the vibration feeling insanely good as it travels straight to your core. his other hand grips harshly on the plush of your thigh, nails raking over the skin. almost forming crescents, vulgar and indecent, yet it all felt too pleasurable.

“i’m close, ‘m so, so close~” you whine out, your tangled fingers in his hair tightening. earning another moan that vibrated over your swollen, needy clit. your other hand struggling to keep leverage on to the headboard.

at this point you’re far too deep in pleasure, desperate to cum as you chase your high. turning crazy from how it felt so so good to ride his face, tongue working you toward it, the squelch of your sticky arousal dripping down his chin. more, more, moreee—rolling your hips over his face like you’re in such a rut, and it seems to be the case.

suddenly—you trembled, writhing in convulse as it came crashing over you like a wave. a particular bump of the tip of his nose against your clit before his relentless suckling pushed you teetering toward the edge. and he so desperately wanted to cum with you at the same time, stroking his cock faster. collecting part of your slick dripping down his chin to wet his shaft. jiung feels your cunt begin to gush, his nails digging deeper crescents into the plush of your thigh because you visibly couldn't handle the shake of your knees from the pleasure. his tongue, never ceasing to flick and flatten as he drags it on to your clit. over and over, lapping up your sticky cum.

“ahh–mhmh, jiung~!” you tug on his hair, fingers laced as you tried to squirm away from his grip. “no more!” yet he's making it difficult for you to do so, both of his arms locking your thighs in place as he began his endless ordeal of licking up your release. s'too much, too much–yet felt too fucking good, rendering you overstimulated out of your mind, merciless.

and when you've finally freed yourself from his grip, you stumbled back on to your mattress, disoriented. it was a blur, feeling yourself momentarily lose balance, suddenly collapsing onto the sheets. jiung immediately rose to his elbows, reaching toward you despite his voice beginning to sound like a distant muffle. concern was greatly etched across his face, “y/n are you okay?” you hear him, and yet it resounded like a distant echo, seeing his concerned expression the last few seconds before your vision slips into darkness.

his composure falters at that instant. had he pushed you too hard? he gazed down on your figure, laying there seemingly peaceful despite your exhaustion. once again you're vulnerable beneath his eyes. to him, jiung takes it as another chance to take care of you, his eyes tracing every outline of your features. and the gentle heaving of your chest that reminded him that he has to prove you that you can trust him.

“tired... ung, i'm okay,” you manage to mumble, and he releases a sigh of relief. almost moving to touch you before he realizes that he's… made quite a mess of his own as well. making a quick trip to the bathroom to clean himself up, stumbling upon bits of your clothes strewn over the floor.

he found you alrewdy fast asleep when he came back. making it a point in his head to go easy on you next time–he wouldn't admit, but the way panic surged through his nerves once you collapsed got him shaken. but in a few minutes he's gotten you into your matching pajamas, tucked underneath a blanket as he slides beside you. he holds your body close to his chest, “night baby,” you couldn't hear him; nonetheless, he still wanted to whisper to you sweet, pressing chaste kisses atop your head.

jiung turns to your bedside table, almost reaching out to turn off your lampshade when he stops to see an abnormally neon yellow sticky note stuck on the wall above that read in bold ink: ‘presentation monday morning’

the presentation.

oh god, you both have to do the presentation tomorrow at 8am.

fuck.

[1:47] kyo: y/n where’d you go???

[1:49] kyo: jiung’s not here too?

[2:05] kyo: alright damn

[2:06] kyo: i get it

[thezombieprostitute]

Your small town has been invaded by a biker club. They want a peaceful takeover but they can twist your arm if needed.

Holy shnikes, I spent so much time working on this! I almost had to make it a two part story! I've barely been able to work on anything else because I needed to get this story written up instead. I honestly think I've never written anything like this before.

Word Count: ~3.6k

Warnings: Choking, Dub/non consent, Implied violence, Knife play (mild). Please let me know if I missed any!

Next Part

Sheriff Lee Bodecker and Mayor John Walker caved to the bikers pretty quickly. Part of you could understand why; only a handful of officers in the entire county compared to a full biker gang? They'd never stand a chance. Better to be allowed to live without having to worry about ending up in the hospital. The Mayor didn't care so long as he got to keep his job, which now meant making the bikers happy.

Which meant paying the bikers with money from the city budget. Your library's budget in particular.

When you'd tried to argue about it, Mayor Walker hit back with "well we can't take any more from the school! Besides, no one needs the library anymore. They've all got their home computers and Internet. You'll be fine with the new budget."

In the end you'd had to let go all but one very part-time employee, relying on two or three volunteers instead. You were already working long hours but now they felt endless. With the budget cut, you had to reduce the purchases of new books in favor of maintaining the Internet connection several of older patrons relied on. Almost half of your day was spent working on applying for grants for additional funding for after-school programs and free-lunch programs for during the summer breaks.

Looking over everything, you were certain you'd have to dip into your own meager savings if you were going to meet the needs of your community. Mayor Walker really didn't seem to understand what the people of his city actually needed, but he didn't seem to care so long as he was in charge.

During an after-school reading time with the Kindergartners you're surprised by the entrance of one of the bikers. You think he's the second-in-command, but you're not sure. He's definitely not the blond in charge; "Cap" you think they call their leader. Still, you have kids to take care of, and this newcomer is a grown man. He can take care of himself.

When the story is done it's time for a nap for the kids. This is very likely the longest they've ever been away from home, away from family, and the sleep helps keep them from getting overstimulated. It was another thing Mayor Walker just didn't understand. All of these kids had parents that worked full time and couldn't afford a babysitter. There were no daycare options, either. Decades ago the kids could be left with a grandparent or a cousin, but they're all working as well or moved out of town. That left the library as a haven for the kids who didn't have access to the limited after-school activities as an option.

If there's anything good about working in such a tiny library it's that you can keep an eye on the kids and the biker while going about your other duties. Thankfully you'd gotten some WD-40 for the book carts so they wouldn't squeak and wake anyone up while you re-shelve books.

You also get a better look at the biker. He's sitting in one of the chairs reading The Hobbit. You hate to admit it but he does look handsome. Longish dark hair, steely blue eyes. For some reason he's still wearing his gloves. If only his arrival hadn't heralded such troubles for you. Well, at least he wasn't causing trouble.

Shelving the books gets you a bit of stretching and some impromptu squat exercises. You spend so much of your time at a desk that this is the closest thing you get to a workout. Given how your body continually snaps, crackles and pops, you could probably use more.

Your exercise is cut short by Ruth's entry and you have to fight the urge to let out a groan. Ruth is one of the older ladies in town who refused to get a computer for her home. Unfortunately that means each time she visits, you have to walk her through even the most basic elements of using a computer so she can send an email to her granddaughter. The entire time she complains to you about how much she hates computers and how much she wishes her daughter would've raised her own daughter correctly and been happy to just accept a phone call, and on, and on, and on.

"Hello Ruth," you quietly say, customer service smile on. "Let me go ahead and log you in to one of our computers?"

"I'm not an invalid!" she loudly complains. You try to quiet her, pointing to the sleeping children but she isn't having it. "All you youngsters thinking an old lady can't do anything for herself! How dare you imply I can't log on to a computer? I'll do it my own self."

You take a breath to steady yourself before looking over at the little ones. They seem largely undisturbed but, knowing Ruth, they'll be awake sooner rather than later. Sighing you go ahead and get their after nap snacks ready. Just another hour or so until their parents start coming by to pick them up. It doesn't take long before Ruth is yelling at the computer, complaining to you that "it's clearly broken" and "why can't we just write letters" along with her forever complaint of "wouldn't have to do this if she'd just pick up the damn phone!"

The kids start waking up and you quickly have to balance keeping them from being upset by the angry lady while also knowing any attempts to placate the angry lady will be met with more anger. Thankfully the snacks are a good distraction for most.

"Would you like some help on a different computer, Ruth?" you ask through gritted teeth, knowing the answer.

"Oh stop treating me like one of those brats," she snaps back. "What kind of library is this where computers are more important than books? Shouldn't even have these monstrosities here!"

"Excuse me, Ruth, is it? I'm Bucky." You'd been so distracted going between Ruth and the kids you didn't notice the biker had put down his book and walked over.

"Oh don't get me started on you and yours!" Ruth retorts. "Town was so much better before you hooligans came along! Now I can't even call the police to help me out when then those teenagers are loitering in my yard!"

"Well Ruth, let me give you my number so the next time you can call me instead of the police," he offers. You're surprised at how calm he's sounding despite being yelled at.

Ruth huffs, "you no-good-beatniks! How dare you insult me! You should get out of our town and leave us good folk alone!"

The biker, Bucky, smiles, "seems to me 'good folk' don't go harassing people who are just trying to do their job." You have to bite back a laugh at that comment. It's no good riling her up even more.

Ruth storms out, letting you focus on the kids who are looking unsure if they should be upset or not. You give the biker a quick "thank you" before giving the little ones all of your attention. He nods and goes back to his reading.

Soon enough the parents start coming in and picking up their kids. Several of them stick around long enough to check out a book or movie and you have to balance taking care of the remaining children with getting the families out on their way. It's always such an ado that makes you really wish you could hire some extra help. A few parents complain about the snacks you gave their kids and you remind them, yet again, that they are free to donate snacks they consider appropriate. All the while you keep your customer service smile up, despite how much you're internally screaming and crying.

Things finally calm down and you're able to sit and take a breather. You desperately want to quit but this community needs a library, even if the Mayor doesn't think so. And goodness knows they'd never be able to hire anyone else to work these conditions. You look over to where the biker is sitting, still reading. If his gang hadn't shown up, you'd be in a much better position. Maybe even able to take a vacation.

Checking the time you decide to keep your professionalism and head over to the man. "Sir, excuse me?" He looks up at you, bright blue eyes momentarily startled. "Sir, we're going to be closing in about a half hour."

"Oh, yeah, sure thing," he nods as he closes the book. "Also, please call me Bucky."

"Sure thing, Bucky," you nod, too tired to argue.

"Gotta say, you do a lot of work for a librarian."

"What do you mean by that?" You don't hold back the bite in your tone and cross your arms.

He chuckles, "I didn't mean to offend. Just, I thought librarians were just supposed to check out the books, y'know? Maybe answer questions? Didn't expect you to also be a daycare, IT person and all that."

"And that's just the work that you saw," you snap at him.

"Don't you have anyone helping you out?"

"I did, before your gang came along!" You're unable to hold back any longer. "Because of you the Mayor cut my budget! I had to fire pretty much all my staff! I can't get the half the books the people of this community want! I have to beg the state government for funds to make sure kids have food when they don't school meals! Do you know how much cleaning I have to do because there's no room in the budget for professionals?! Do you have any idea how many of the things around here I have to pay for out of my own pocket?! You bikers demanded protection money and it came out of my budget!"

Bucky's gloved hand grabs neck, stopping you from talking. You try to fight but his arm is stronger than expected. Surprisingly he doesn't look angry so much as amused. "You know, I never thought I could go for the librarian type but this fire of yours does something to me." Your nostrils flare and he chuckles. "I've been yelled at twice today, Doll. A man can only take so much."

"I'm sorry," you grumble as best you can.

His hand loosens, "what was that, Doll?"

"I'm sorry," you repeat. "While you are the reason my budget was cut, you're not the one who made the decision. I'm sorry I took my anger and frustration out on you."

"That's more like it," he snickers. He pulls you uncomfortably close to himself. "And I'm more than happy to reward that better behavior." You look at him, confusion written all over your face, as the leather of his glove caresses your cheek. "Like I said, I never thought a librarian would rouse my interest, but you're something else." You roll your eyes and try to pull away, but he isn't having it. His grip tightens around your throat again, even as his smile widens, baring his teeth. "I can be very good to you, Doll, so long as you're good for me."

His implication is clear and you really don't have any options.

"I need to close the library," you grumble.

Bucky removes his hand from around your throat, "good idea. Don't want to get caught now, do we?"

Your body is shaking as you go about the routine for closing the library. Your brain is working overtime to try to figure out some kind of way out of this. Running isn't an option. Even if you made it to your car, where could you go? Calling for help definitely wouldn't do anything. You seriously doubt he would hesitate to make an example of you if you ran.

With the last of the doors locked and the blinds closed you return the biker and almost whimper, "my office?"

"Oh Doll," he cups your chin. "You don't need to be scared of me. I'll be good to you."

"Do...do you...do you have a condom?"

He chuckles, "don't worry, we're not going that far tonight. But I love that you're ready for it."

Without warning he grabs you and pulls you in for a suffocating, forceful kiss. His tongue quickly pushing its way past your lips. Mentally reminding yourself to do what he wants, you open your mouth to give him access and he moans. One of his hands moves down to your breast and you have to will yourself to not flinch away from the touch.

"Take off the cardigan. And the top," he orders.

You back up just a bit so you can oblige. "The bra as well?"

"Nah, that'll be for me to remove." His voice sounds rougher than before and his eyes are definitely darker. He seems amused by the fact that you maintain eye contact while removing your clothes. "You're so pretty when you're defiant," he teases. "But I'm sure I'll have you pleading for more in no time."

Willing your eyes not to roll you instead snipe back, "don't make promises you can't keep. Wouldn't be the first disappointment I've had."

He has the nerve to laugh at that. "I'll make a believer out of you, Doll."

Walking to your office, he sits in your chair, gesturing for you to get on his lap. "Make me think you want this," he commands.

Taking a deep breath, eyes never leaving his, you move to straddle him. He's surprised when you grab the back of his head and turn his face up before shoving your tongue down his throat. He moans in appreciation and his arms wrap around you as he returns your fervor. You bite his lower lip and start grinding against his crotch.

He removes his right glove before undoing your bra faster than you expected. You pull apart from him just long enough to remove the bra and he takes the opportunity to latch himself to your breast. His ungloved hand moves to fondle your other breast while his surprisingly strong left arm holds you up. His ministrations have you gasping as your body instinctively continues to grind against him. His slow, languid movements are in direct contrast to the speed your hips have set and the difference is affecting you.

Suddenly you're on your back on the desk. Bucky had managed to move his left hand to prevent your head from banging on the desk. Your eyes widened from more than just surprise at the realization of how fast and strong he was.

"Sorry, Doll, you were getting me too worked up already," he smirks at you. He moves his hands so they're on each side of your head, hovering over you. "It really is the quiet ones, huh?" You can't help roll your eyes and he chuckles. "Let's see how loud you can get."

He quickly unbuttons your pants and pulls them off of you before getting out a knife. Your breath hitches and he chuckles as he takes the blade to your panties, cutting them off of you. He puts the panties to his nose, "you smell so good. How long's it been, Doll? Months? Can't imagine you get a lotta action in this town."

"It's been a while," you confess, heat burning your cheeks at how turned on you are. You can't bring yourself to look at him.

He stuffs your panties into his pocket and taps your thighs with the knife so you spread them open. "You look so pretty like this," he snickers, clearly amused by your discomfort.

He slams the knife into the desk by your head, making you yelp in surprise. Using his left arm to hover over you, he whispers into your ear, "such a pretty scream," as his fingers start playing with your pussy. He groans at how wet you are, "fuck, Doll, I should'a known you'd be into the rough play."

You squeal as he mercilessly jams two of his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. As you involuntarily arch your back he alternates licking, sucking and nibbling your nipples. He adds a third finger and mercilessly drives his hand in and out of your soaked pussy. He pushes himself up and uses his now free arm to start choking you. You try to push his arm away, but it's impossibly strong. You're shocked to feel your orgasm building as your gasping for air.

He must sense it too because he grins and starts ordering you to "give me what I want, Doll. Cum around my fingers. I can feel how close you are." He gives your nipple a sharp bite that pushes you over the edge and cum with a hoarse scream, his fingers never slowing down, his grip never letting up.

It's only after you've stopped cumming that he eases up. "That was fucking gorgeous," he taunts before pulling his fingers out of you and licking them. He closes his eyes and moans at your flavor, making you burn with embarrassment. You start to get up but his left hand keeps you pressed to the desk. "I'm not done, Doll."

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "I shouldn't have assumed."

"God you're a good, smart girl. Keep those legs spread for me." You do as he says while trying to look anywhere but him. He pulls the knife out of your desk and flips it so that the hilt is pointed towards you. "Look at me, Doll. I want you to watch." You struggle to look and he rubs the hilt of the knife against your oversensitive clit, making you jump. "I said, look. At. Me. Doll." You're quick to follow his orders this time.

He puts the knife away before undoing his belt and pants. As much as you could feel when you were grinding against him, as much as you could see the his bulge, you weren't expecting his cock to be so big. Your eyes widen and he chuckles, "like I said, we're not going that far tonight. Now be good and don't move unless I tell you."

Grabbing your legs he pulls you so your ass is a little off the desk and runs his cock over your pussy, gathering up your slick and rubbing over your clit, making you whimper. He starts groaning in pleasure, "god you're so wet from just one orgasm. Can't wait to see how soaked you get after a full night with me." He positions your thighs so that you're squeezing his cock between them and he gives a few thrusts, spreading your own juices all your thighs.

"Gonna mark you up with my cum," he growls as he picks up his pace, squeezing your thighs even tighter. His hands are hurting you but his cock keeps rubbing against your clit and it's feeling so damn good you don't register his words. You moan and whine as you barrel towards your next orgasm. "That's it, Doll. You make the prettiest faces. Can't wait to see you covered in my cum. Gonna look so damn pretty with my seed all over you."

He squeezes your thighs impossibly tight and you cum so hard from the pain and pleasure combination you don't notice him ejaculating all over your stomach and chest.

When he finally catches his breath he reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone to take a photo. You try to protest but he gives you a warning look. You drop your face, trying to not cry from how dirty you feel. He puts the phone away and lifts your chin, "don't worry, Doll. That photo is just for me." He kisses the top of your head and you try not to wince. "And because you were so good to me, made me feel so good, I'll be good to you. Now get your clothes back on and I'll escort you home."

"Can I clean up?"

"Not until you get home," he growls. "You don't get rid of my marks until I give you permission."

"Yes, Bucky," you sniffle.

"Aw, don't be like that, Doll," he gently chides. "I take care of what's mine."

The next morning you wake up from a nightmare riddled sleep, feeling more tired than ever. After your morning routine you step outside to head to the library but stop short when you see Bucky on his motorcycle, waiting for you. Wordlessly he hands you a helmet and you don't even try to question or talk him out of whatever he has planned, you just put the helmet on and get on the bike behind him, holding him incredibly tight so you don't fall off.

He stops in front of City Hall and helps you off the bike before walking you in. He doesn't stop until he's led you to the Mayor's office. Your shocked to see Cap, the leader of the biker gang, sitting next to Mayor Walker, whose nose has recently been broken. You gasp and try to turn away but Bucky grabs you and keeps you facing the Mayor.

Cap pats Walker's shoulder, "now what did I tell you?"

Walker shudders a little before looking at you and shakily saying, "I'm so sorry for cutting your budget so much. I will amend that today, making sure to take the money out of my own salary."

Your shaking, unable to respond. Bucky whispers into your ear, "what do you say, Doll?"

"Th-thank you, Mayor Walker," you stutter. "I...I really appreciate that you've ch-changed your mind."

"That's my girl," Bucky whispers before guiding you out of the office.

Next Part

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[myfictionaldreams]

Steddie x reader where reader is like leader of cheer squad (so ages match up) they love her in her outfit and definitely use it against her during sex. “Come on baby yell for us.” “Give us a D give us a A ….. DADDY.” “We won’t be able to hear you with a shout like that.”

Totally keeps the cheer outfit on too. Sorry just a quick thought.

Give me a D! // Steddie x Fem!Reader

A/N: thank you so so much for requesting this!!! I've changed it up a little bit to go with my Steddie series but I hope you enjoy it! sorry it's a little filthy

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, threesome, dom/sub, pet names, restraints, teasing, fingering, degradation, spit kink, praise kink, namecalling, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, hand job, deepthroating, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie (x2), flexibility, safe word use (yellow), choking, daddy/sir kink, subspace, rough sex, aftercare!!

Words: 7.5k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“Are you actually organising your stuff or are you just reading that old porn magazine again?” you yelled over your shoulder, not even needing to look at Steve to know what he was doing, he had been too quiet for too long. Your boyfriend confirmed your suspicions by slamming the magazine shut and dropping it into a cardboard box that had his name written on the side.

Despite the chaos in the living area caused by the numerous cardboard boxes, not much work had been achieved. Rolling your shoulders to ease the ache that had settled in the muscles from sitting in the same position for so long, you riffled through your belongings, sitting crossed-legged and hunched over. Even with this, you couldn't help but smile when Steve began to crawl over to you, shuffling closer. The affection grew to a toothy grin as Steve knelt tall behind your body, his face nuzzling into the side of your neck as his arms wrapped around your body.

“I still don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for”, he grumbled, already bored even though all he’d been able to accomplish so far was opening up one box, finding the porn magazine and flicking through idly until he was semi-hard in his jeans.

You tried not to roll your eyes and sigh as you explained to him, “Pick out anything that you don’t want anymore, I’ve told you this a hundred times now, Steve”.

As you continued to explore through your stuff, you were momentarily stopped as a warm hand cupped under your chin, tilting your face back until you were looking up at an upside-down Steve. “So sassy today”, he commented under his breath, closing the gap slowly to kiss your lips as his fingers stroked down your neck in lazy circles. Just as you were beginning to relax fully into the touch, leaning your weight further back into his firm body, did Steve pull away from the kiss, “So what am I looking for? And If you could explain without the sass that would be great”.

You had a coy smile as you explained as calmly as possible, “I want us to donate to the charity event this weekend that's helping to support the Hawkins attack a year and a half ago”. 

Steve’s hair shadowed his face as he seemed to think about everything he owned before deciding, “But I don’t have anything I want to donate”.

“Steve, you have more stuff than Eddie and me combined. I’m sure there’s something you can get rid of now please, move away and stop distracting me. This is why I’ve asked you to help me and not Eddie because you know that boy can not do one task without being distracted by something else”.

Thankfully for once, he did as you asked with a last lingering kiss to your chin before crawling over to another box, opening the lid and pausing at what he saw. Fabric in the colours green, white and yellow were folded nicely into a pile at the top of the box. He frowned before glancing at the side of the box, not realising he’d opened one of yours and low and behold, the words scribbled on the side were your name and hobbies. It was now Steve’s turn to bite his bottom lip to hold back the gleeful laugh he wanted to burst out with as he gently pinched the thin material of the shirt, lifting it to fully inspect the treasure he’d found.

Turning his body towards yours, he coughed to gain your attention, “I can’t believe you’ve still got this”.

“Hmm? What’s that?”, you only briefly glanced over your shoulder, not thinking anything much of what he could have found, you didn’t have anything exciting hidden away. Or so you thought as your eyes widen and your body instinctively turned towards him. “Where did you find that?” Reaching over, you tried to snatch it off of him but Steve held it back and out of your reach.

“Hey! Finders keepers and all that”, he paused, looking at the material with a questioning, thoughtful gaze before a shit-eating grin bloomed across his handsome face. “So, you kept it.”

The apples of your cheeks warmed as you contemplated what to say to stop Steve from looking at you like he’d just won the jackpot. Your mind, however, was blank of any thought so eventually you gave up and released a deep sigh, shoulders dropping as you explained, “Yes I kept my cheerleading uniform, my life revolved around it for years and I wanted to keep it as a for the memories”.

Steve glanced down at the top he held in his hands and then into the box where your skirt was still neatly folded, “Ah, the matching skirt”, he teased. 

“Shut up”, you mumbled, embarrassed and tried to snatch the shirt out of his hands but he swiftly stood and held it above his head, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reach it. You still tried though as you stood up on your tip toes to get back your uniform. Steve smirked at your pathetic attempts to reach for the top. “Please could you stop looking at me like that please, I’m embarrassed enough as it is”.

“Why would you be embarrassed? You were great at cheerleading from what I remember, weren’t you the head cheerleader for a while as well?”

Now not only were your cheeks warm but your entire body as he revealed that he remembered you from high school. “Yes I was until I was dropped and hit my head, why do you think I hate heights so much?”

Thankfully Steve didn’t tease you on this and even offered you a sad smile but as he inspected the uniform again, the taunting smile returned as one of his sleek eyebrows raised, “I’ll only give you this back if you go and try it on for me”.

You hoped your expression showed how much his idea was absolutely not happening. “Steve, I’m not putting that on”.

Steve took a step forward, hope twinkling in his warm-honey eyes as he pleaded, “Please, just once”.

With one last trick up his sleeve, he smiled down at you, giving you the look that always has your heartbeat quickening and butterflies tumbling in your stomach. You gave a reluctant sigh and he knew you had finally given in to his request. As you looked at the skirt in the box, you doubted, “I don’t think it’ll even fit anymore”.

Steve holds the top but the shoulders and presses it against your front, “Looks like it’ll fit just fine to me but even if it’s not for me, please just try it on for Eddie, and if they don’t fit into them then we’ll put them away and never mention anything about it again.”

“I don’t think Eddie would enjoy me wearing this”, you mused, picking up the uniform and taking the top off of Steve.

Your boyfriend frowned at your statement, “Why not? I think he’d love it”.

“Because it’s a reminder of all the assholes who used to bully him at school”.

Steve leans close to you, his breath fanning across your lips, “Please Baby, we’ll both love it, I promise”.

“If I have to wear it, does that mean you’ll get to wear whatever I’d like to wear another time?”

Steve didn’t even need a second to contemplate before agreeing to your terms, “Deal”.

Deciding it was easier to get changed out of Steve’s grabby hands, you raced to the bathroom and began to try on your old uniform. Even though you were able to get the top and skirt on, it was still tighter than it used to be due to not having to be exercising as rigorously as you used to and the tightness meant that it was a little bit shorter. Revealing the bare skin of your waist and nearly all of your thighs. As well s this, because you didn't have the special undergarments like you used to that matched the same shade of green as the uniform, if you so much as bent over the slightest bit, your lacy blue underwear would be revealed.

You looked more like you’d bought a cheerleading outfit from a cheap dress-up store than this being the official high-school uniform you used to cherish on a daily basis. Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time, you looked yourself over one more time in the bathroom mirror and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Here she is, head cheerleader for Hawkins High School, ready to woo the boys”, Steve hollers at you before his voice trailed off as he fully took in your appearance from where he sat on the couch. One word to describe how he was exploring your body with his eyes was: hungry. It even made you a little self-conscious as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other and awkwardly crossed your arms to cover your chest. “The socks makes the outfit even more special Babe”.

Looking down at your body, you shuffled your feet that still had the pink fluffy socks that you’d had on all day. The tension eased slightly from your shoulders just as Steve begins to stand.

“Eddie’s going to lose his fucking mind when he sees you”, Steve mutters to himself, moving ever so slowly closer and then around you, taking in every inch of the outfit until he stops in front of you again.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask, “Happy now?”

Steve’s full lips part like he was going to answer but he snaps them shut and slowly smirks instead, lifting his hands to stroke his fingers across your exposed midriff, his eyes never left yours though. “I’m very happy right now, Princess”. The low, husky tone he speaks in as your thighs clench together as arousal pools in your core. Steve noticed the movement of your legs, his eyes darkening beneath the strand of hair that had fallen across his forehead.

Neither of you say anything, not when his fingers seemed to be doing all of the talking as he inched them over your top until resting against your nipple that was physically peaked beneath the thin material. You’d not bothered to put on a bra today seeing as you weren’t planning on leaving the trailer today and with the uniform being tight, it only accentuated the outline of your breasts and most importantly your hard nipples.

Steve looked like he was a second away from snapping and you wanted nothing more than for him to do such a thing, especially as he presses his thumb down on the peak, causing you to release the breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

The heavy screech of Eddie’s van tyres snapped you both away from the heated moment. You quickly turned on the spot, stepping back towards the bathroom with the intent of changing back into the clothes you were just wearing. Steve on the other hand had other ideas as he caught your wrist and tugged you back to his chest, your other wrist was then easily manouvered to join the other so now both of your wrists were pinned behind your back as you faced the front door to the trailer.

“Steve, please I need to go and get changed”, you chastised over your shoulder as you heard Eddie’s happy whistling as he clambered out of his van.

“Why? I told you he’s going to love it”.

“He won’t, I know he won’t, you don’t understand how badly they all treated him”.

“You’re being dramatic Babe, just wait and see”, he continues to be at ease over the situation and his eyes were almost gleaming when Eddie finally stepped through the door, the whistle tune stopping as he stared at you and Steve.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his eyes exploring your outfit just as hungrily as Steve's.

Before Steve could answer, you quickly blurted out, “Steve found my old uniform and made me try it on and I was trying to go and change it but he wouldn’t let me”.

Eddie steps closer, only stopping when he was close enough that you could smell the recent cigarette on his work clothes and breath, something you used to detest but now reminded you so much of him. His chocolate brown eyes devoured your body, moving slowly and not revealing whether he was happy or pissed off.

Gently, he pressed two of his fingers against the tip of your chin, tilting it up so that you were both face to face. “Why would you think I wouldn’t want to see you wearing this?” he asked with an eerie calm that had your nerves still on edge.

“I... I didn’t think you’d want to be reminded of high school or the people I used to cheer with”, you explained in a soft voice, trying to sound sympathetic.

Eddie’s eyes widen for a split second and then his gaze hardened, his fingers remaining against your chin to keep your face in place, “I don’t care about them, I only care about you. Even if you were playing basketball with that prick Jason, I’d still want to know everything about it, Angel”.

This right here was one of the reasons you had fallen so quickly in love with Eddie Munson. He was so selfless and caring with also the edge of being dominant and demanding with his stance, it always made you feel like you wanted to melt into the floor with how gooey your insides felt.

“Eddie”, you whispered lovingly, about to tell him just how much you cared for him but he cut off any words as he continued to talk, his voice low and rugged.

“I always watched you during practice, you know, from a distance”. This admission had you slightly taken aback, you knew of Steve and Eddie, everyone knew of them at school. Steve Harrington the heartthrob and Eddie the freak Munson, but you never dared to speak to either, just admiring from the back of classrooms or lingering glances at the end of the corridors for two opposing men you thought didn’t even know your name until you’d met them at work. Eddie noticed your shocked expression as he continued to explain, “Just because we didn’t talk at school, doesn’t mean I didn’t notice you, Sweetheart, always up in the air with this little skirt, but of course, I’d never look”, he teased, pulling a smile from the corner of your lips.

“You might not have, but I certainly did”, Steve whispered into your ear from behind you, where he was still holding your arms behind your back. You tried to turn and look at him, also shocked that he had been watching you whilst at school as well but Eddie firmly held your jaw so you were forced to continue to look into his pretty eyes.

“Such a perv”, Eddie taunts as he flicked his gaze towards Steve and finally releases your face so that he could reach for his boyfriend, hand cupping the back of his head and pulling him forward for a searing kiss. Steve groaned deep in his chest which vibrated against your back as he tried to also move closer to Eddie which forced your front against the other man's chest.

A high-pitched noise bubbled from the back of your throat as you were thoroughly squished between the two of them. Eddie pulled back first, releasing his grip on Steve to rest it against your hip as he took a tiny step back to look down at you once more, his lower lip sticking out condescendingly. “Aw, is our sweet little cheerleader feeling lonely?”

Shivering under his intense gaze, you tried to pull your arms out of Steve’s hold but to no avail as he continued to hold tightly, his thumb occasionally stroking against the soft skin of your inner wrist, giving you some comfort.

Eddie’s eyes roamed over your outfit, his fingers beginning to explore your body just as Steve’s had, His fingertips were rough and hard as he began at your hairline, stroking back a strand of hair that had blurred your vision. Slowly and with intent, he moved over your cheekbone, down your jaw and throat, caressing your collarbones as he finally grazed the tops of your breast, pressing down firmly over your still-perked nipples, causing more noises to come from you. The colours of his eyes seemed to darken further at your noise but he continued on his journey, teasing over the exposed skin at your waistline, down your hip and only pausing when he reached the bottom of your shortened skirt.

You were breathing hot, heavy breaths with the anticipation of his fingers delving beneath your skirt and against your ticklish inner thighs, reaching the edge of your panties, pushing them aside so that he could stroke a single finger between your folds.

“So wet for us already, our horny little cheerleader, aren’t you?” he mused, spreading your juices up to your clit. Your hips bucked against his movements, wanting to feel more of him, mewling pathetically as you raised onto your tip toes with the hope that he would see how much you wanted him.

Thankfully he was happy to oblige to your whimpers as he circled your clit, not applying much pressure but just feeling the roughness of his guitar-playing fingers was enough to satisfy. Your head lulls back against Steve’s chest, eyes closed as you allowed Eddie to play between your legs.

Eddie watched you intensely, his cock almost painful inside of his black jeans at watching how hot you looked succumbing to his touches. “Always wanted to do this”, he mused, “How scandalous would it be, the head cheerleader with the school freak”.

That word split through your pleasured bubble as your eyebrows furrowed, looking up at Eddie as you remarked, “Not a freak, Eddie”.

“Ah, but I am a freak when it comes to you”, his eyes twinkled in the late afternoon light, a smile forming on his face and deepening his dimples as he raised his other hand to grip your cheeks, squishing your lips together and forcing them to open. “Wider”, he demanded with a tilt of his head. You opened your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out, knowing exactly what he was going to do, it was degrading and dirty but when Eddie started to tip into this dominant head space, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

Eddie spat into your mouth, the saliva landing on your tongue where you immediately swallowed it, tasting him and cigarettes. You never used to like doing this but seeing the look on Eddie’s face, the blush that crawled up his neck as his arousal peaked and the praises you knew were sure to come, it only turned you on more to have such a degrading act done.

“So fucking good to me, aren’t you? Swallowing my spit like a pretty angel, such a good girl, our good girl”, every word went straight to your core, causing your pussy to throb and clench and hips to move faster, wanting him, needing him. Eddie observes you for a second, looking as if he was going to combust right then and there before he retracted his fingers from your clit and down to your hole and brought his attention to Steve. “Want to feel how wet she is?”

Steve didn’t say a single word as he continued to hold your wrists behind your back with one hand and whilst looking down your shoulder, he slipped his other hand under your skirt and down the front of your panties. The two of them moved at the same time, Steve circling your clit and Eddie pushing a single digit into your pussy, moving in and out in time with Steve’s circles.

“You are soaked Princess, is that just for us?” Steve asked in a low tone whilst rutting his hips into your palms so you could feel his erection in his jeans.

“Always for you two ”, you sound breathless as you continue to look up at Eddie and lean your upper body against Steve for support as your thighs were shaking with all the stimulation between your legs.

Steve chuckles in your ear, biting the lobe for a second before mocking, “Our slutty little cheerleader”. You mewl at the name, usually, your praise kink needed to be stroked just as much as your pussy but today, standing between them, the spitting and the names were welcomed to create a scenario of breaking the rules with the outfit you were wearing. 

Eddie noticed just how much you enjoyed this as well as your hole clenched around his middle finger. The curly-haired man chuckled down at you whilst licking his bottom lip, “Oh, you like it when he calls you that? What are you thinking about right now, Sweetheart?”

Your mind is buzzing, skin prickling with heat as the boxes and plan to organise had been long forgotten about. “I’m imagining us, in the janitor's store room, we’re hiding from everyone but, I could see you both as I’m performing and I’m so desperate for you both, so wet, so needy, I want you to touch me - ah, right there! Please don’t stop-”.

Your rambling becomes incoherent as Eddie added a second finger, curling them against your pleasurable nerves inside your pussy as Steve pressed harder against your clit, increasing in speed. Everything felt so good, you wish you could tell them how good your body felt, how much you needed them, wanted them but your tongue felt too heavy.

“So naughty”, Steve mumbled into the shell of your ear. You can smell his hair as it stroked your cheek, the lemon shampoo and the copious amounts of the hairspray that he’d used.

Eddie’s masterful fingers curled and pumped inside of you, the hand on your face squeezing once more forcing your mouth to open again so that your moans split out without any restraint as you felt the beautiful spark between your legs. “You gonna cum for us, pretty slut? I can feel you tightening around my fingers”.

“Ye-Yes, please can I cum? I can’t- I can’t hold it, I need…”, your words were blurring together and Eddie chuckled at how desperate you looked. However, his condescending laugh was the complete opposite of his sweet touch as he kissed your temple once, “You can cum for us, been so good for us so far, haven’t you, that’s it, around my fingers, cum for us”.

The two of them encouraged you through your orgasm, your insides burning with pleasure, knees trembling and struggling to keep you upright as your boyfriends coaxed your orgasm as far as it could go before you slumped fully against Steve.

Your eyes had clenched close in the process so you didn’t see Eddie sucking on his soaked fingers but you certainly heard his dirty moans before he again tilted your face so that he could kiss the tip of your nose in a second of comfort before his hard exterior returned.

“Do you wanna show me how much you missed me today?” Eddie asked whilst releasing your face.

Opening your eyes, you knew you probably looked a mess, eyes glazed, unsteady on your feet but his words were like more praises as your mouth began to water of its own accord as you moaned, “Yes, please”.

Eddie’s eyes latch onto Steve as the man behind you released his hold on your wrists and immediately you were dropping to your knees, the carpet comforting against your skin. Eddie stepped closer, his crotch now at eye level as your fingers fumbled to undo his chained belt, the metal clanging as you raced to try and get to the area you wanted most. You could feel his cock, throbbing in the confines of his jeans and boxers as his belt opened, the button was undone and the zipper was down. You push his clothes down over his hips until his cock was bobbing in front of you.

He was rock hard, the tip a darker shade of pink compared to the shaft and already leaking beads of precum. Without wasting a second to tease him like you usually did, your lips wrapped around his cock, tasting the salty goodness and lapping it up with a few licks before taking more of his length to the back of your throat and sucking. Eddie sucked in a quick breath, his thighs clenching under where your hands rested against them as he quickly grabbed the back of your head.

You’re still crowded around them both, kneeling between them and shaking slightly from your orgasm but the adrenaline of it all had your throat relaxing, desperate to please him just as much as he’d pleased you, taking more and more of his length until his curly hair at the base of his cock was nearly brushing against your nose.

Eddie was cursing and shaking nearly as much as you as his hands disappear from the back of your head. Glancing back up at him as you bob your head up and down on his cock, you could see Steve and Eddie making out.

Their lips and tongues clashed together, both their hands trying to undress one another, needing to feel each other’s naked bodies. Eddie was swifter and more skilled with removing clothes as he had Steve’s jeans pushed down his hips and his hand wrapped around his cock and pumping with long strokes. Steve gasps, his eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against Eddie’s mouth hanging open as he thrust into Eddie’s palm before his fingers delved into the soft curls and pulled him into another burning kiss.

The position you were in was hot, sweat dripping down your temple and spine beneath your uniform, especially as the two men removed the remaining of their clothes from above you continued to become more heated with their kisses and touches. Neither deem to dominate the other which always seemed to be the case when the three of you were intimate, they were both in charge but had different ways in which they displayed this.

Eddie’s fist increased his speed as he pulled back and looked down at you on your knees still. “You look so pretty on your knees for me”, you smiled around his cock and sucked him harder, causing his hips to jut forward. “Shit! Do that again, you can take more of me I know you can”.

You loved seeing the competition in his eyes as you raised slightly up, taking a deep breath through your nose and sucked him harder and tried to swallow his entire length, gagging but keeping him there wanting to pleasure him, even as your eyes filled with tears. Eddie always liked to push your limits but you try and relax to not overwhelm yourself as his bush again tickled your nose.

“Angel, I’m going to cum already if you do that again”, Eddie admits as he watches Steve hold back your hair that was damp with sweat. Hearing those words from Eddie, only drove you to make him cum, wanting to taste his seed so you moved faster, sucking his heavy cock with more power and need.

Eddie on the other hand did not appreciate this as he released Steve’s cock to grab his hand instead, pulling your hair back harshly so that you were moved off of his cock and you couldn’t help but grin up at him, a string of salviia conneting your lips and his cock. Eddie was flushed and breathing heavily as he stared down at you. “Didn’t say I wanted to cum did I?”, he retorted at you.

However, it was Steve who spoke next, breathing just as heavily as Eddie. “You know, I used to remember her being one of the loudest during cheer, why don’t we try it out?”

Frowning at his idea, embarrassed by the thought of having to shout whatever it is that they had in mind, you tried and pull against their hold on their head to return sucking of Eddie but they held onto you firmly. “I guess you’re right, can’t cheer with my cock in your mouth. Why don’t we try something else, stand up for us, Sweetheart”.

Eddie and Steve release your hair and firmly grip under your arms, helping you to stand and steady yourself with how wobbly your legs now felt after being on your knees for so long. “Come here, Honey”, Steve instructs, his strong hands still supporting you as he now smiled down at you. 

Then you’re completely hypnotised by Steve as he presses his lips to yours, slowly and deeply kissing and tasting you, moaning as hints of Eddie coated Steve’s tongue as he pushes it into your mouth. With his distraction, you were hardly aware of his wandering hands as they reached under your skirt and pushed the flimsy material of your panties down until they rested at your thighs.

It was only when his hand spanked your arse did you pull away from his mouth to gasp loudly at the sting that settled across the soft skin of your cheek. Steve spanked again, the noise sharp in your ears as he then massaged the area before turning you around so that you were facing Eddie, “I need to feel you, Princess”.

Steve rested a heavy hand against your shoulder, pushing your upper body against Eddi’es so your face rested against his warm chest and your skirt was lifted to expose your ass to him.  Steve curses taking in the sight of you slightly bent over, all pretty and cock drunk and waiting for him to fuck you. With his cock still wet from your lips, he reached down, sliding his hips closer to yours and slowly eased his cock into your soaked pussy.

“Ah- Steve!”, your moans were like sweet music to his ear as he slowly begins to rock his hips, his hands massaging your hips before one clenched into your hair, yanking your head back so pain flashes through your scalp. You love it however as you clench tighter around him, even at the odd angle that your neck is not bent, exposing the front of it to Eddie as you held on tightly to his shoulders so that you didn’t topple over.

“That’s better!”, Eddie encourages as he strokes the back of his finger against your cheek, wiping some salvia that had dribbled there. “Now, where were we? Oh yes! Come on Angel, yell for us”.

Your silence was enough that Steve stopped fucking you, his lips hovering over your ear as you whimpered at him to keep going. “You want me to carry on, then you’re going to listen to Eddie, understood?”

“Yes, I understand”, you whined whilst trying to rock yourself back on Steve’s cock.

“Good”, Steve began moving in and out of you once more, his hips snapping against yours as he spoke. “Give me a D, give me an A, give me a D D Y!”

Your body trembled with embarrassment but you did just as instructed, “D A D D Y”, you mumbled in a half-assed volume.

Eddie shook his head, “We won’t be able to hear you with a shout like that”, he chastised. “Again! And louder this time so that everyone in the trailer park can hear”.

With each snap of Steve’s hips, you shouted a letter until you were hollering the word DADDY loud enough that the neighbours were sure to hear. Eddie was loving it with how hard his cock was throbbing in front of you, especially looking over your shoulder and seeing how flushed Steve was as he continued to fuck you as you shouted the nickname that you liked to call him during intimate moments like this.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Now what about me?” Eddie mocked before he lifted your cheerleading top, exposing your breasts of which he promptly dropped his height to suck on each of your nipples in turn. Your nails dug into his shoulders as his teeth nipped harshly on the peak, then licked the pain away. 

You let out a quivering moan as you work up the courage to shout, S I R, with Steve’s thrusts. Eddie laughs around your breast at your pathetic attempts but knew you were teetering on the edge of going too far with his degradation so he sweetly kissed the side of your stomach. “Doing so well for us Angel, taking Steve’s cock like that, doing everything we tell you to. Jesus H. Christ, how did we get so lucky?”

You mewl at the praises, starting to feel overwhelmed at the harsh touches of your hair still being pulled on, your breasts being groped and played with by Eddie and the cock that was desperately fucking your cunt, causing loud squelches from how wet you were. But then there were his words, the little kisses from both of your boyfriends and despite all of the degrading and teasing, you still held so much affection and love for them both. You wanted to tell them just how much you adored them however the words that tumbled from your lips were an incoherent mess.

“I…I - Lov- Want you- Need you-”, there were almost tears forming in your eyes with how frustrated you were getting with yourself for not being able to tell them how much you loved them. Steve and Eddie didn’t need to hear though as they simultaneously kisses the closest body part, Steve your shoulder and Eddie your sternum.

“I know Honey, it’s a lot, isn’t it? You’re doing amazing Baby, wanna cum on my cock?”

“Yes…please”, you sob, clinging to Eddie as he began to move lower, your hands now holding onto his hair.

“Always so polite”, Eddie chuckles as he watches Steve slow his thrusts but only so he could fuck you deeply and each stroke caressed every single nerve in your pussy. This was then when the long-haired man spread your legs further apart which was limited by the panties still around your thighs but it gave him just enough room to dip his head down and lick your clit.

You weren’t able to ask for permission to cum as you saw stars, breath catching in your throat as your whole body shivered and throbbed with your orgasm. Once again they both had to hold you up as your cunt spasmed around Steve’s cock and he tipped his head back trying not to cum but it was no use. “Shit, sh-it, you’re so tight Baby, I’m cumming, that’s it, take it all!”. You could feel his cum spurting into your cunt, coating your walls and dripping out of the edge and down your thighs.

You all but slumped forward completely onto Eddie as he finally stood back up. Steve on the other hand had pulled out of you and was removing your panties completely from your body, using two fingers to push his cum back into your still fluttering hole. Eddie admired your dazed face for a second before stroking your hair away from your ear, “Shall we show Steve just how flexible you are?”

Giving him a simple nod, Eddie walks you over to the couch, lying you down on your back, your breasts still exposed and your skirt now bunched around your waist. Eddie gives you a proud smile, leaning down to kiss you softly and sweetly, a touch that had you craving more and groaning as he moved away. His rings were cool against your thighs as he began to push your legs back until your knees were by your shoulders.

In this position and basically being folded in half, you could see how soaked your pussy and the tops of your thighs were with your juices and feel Steve’s cum oozing out and down over your asshole. “Can’t let that go to waste now can we?” Eddie mumbles, dipping down and licking up the cum and swallowing it all. You and Steve groaned desperately at the sight before you’re being distracted as Eddie knelt properly over you and began to slide his cock into your cunt.

Eddie holds you down and fucks you fast and hard, the cushions of the couch springing your body up and down which only helped with his momentum. At one point Steve stood behind you and began to hold down your legs so that Eddie could stroke your clit in rough swipes.

Your orgasm hit you like a train, and as you were being held down, you couldn't wither and move to release the tension that was pulsing through you. It was so thoroughly intense that you couldn’t even form words anymore but Eddie kept going, fucking you through your orgasm that it formed into another. However, this time, as he fucked you hard and deep, his tip brushing against your cervix and g-spot with each thrust, it was too overwhelming for you and everywhere between your legs felt too sensitive.

As the next orgasm clenches through you, your moans stutter as you struggle to catch your breath and when your face clenches tightly and the noises coming from your mouth change, was when Eddie notice that you might have been too overwhelmed.

Eddie grabs your chin, forcing you to look towards him but your eyes are closed so he leans down to kiss your nose. “What’s your colour, Sweetheart?”

“Ye-yel-yello-”, you can’t even form the word properly but he understands enough. Steve releases your legs, easing them on either side of Eddi’es body as he crowds down around you, like an overheated cocoon, the small space helping to ground you. The two of you catch your breaths as Steve strokes your hair away from your face where it nuzzled into Eddie’s neck.

“Want me to pull out?” Eddie asks, kissing your cheek gently and pushing up on his hands so that he could look at your face again where it's a lot more relaxed than it had been.

“No, No I just need a second”, you explained, feeling too sensitive that you didn’t want him to move anything down there, knowing the sensation would pass in a moment, just needed to calm down enough that you wanted to continue. If you’d shouted red, he knew to pull out and find out what was hurting or scaring you but when you said yellow, it was mostly because you just needed a moment before it became too overwhelming.

Eddie and Steve continue to hold you for a couple of minutes and after taking a deep breath, you dared to open flutter open your eyes and look at both men. “I’m ok, it just felt like a lot but I’m green, I promise”.

Steve gives you an upside down kiss from where he stood over you both and then Eddie drops down kisses down your neck, moving his hips slowly, being careful like you were fragile and close to breaking but you appreciated the careful movements. However as your arousal quickly builds again, you’re wanting it harder and faster.

Reaching behind you for Steve’s hand, you placed it around your neck, wanting him to choke you which he did with a deep chuckle as your legs wrapped tightly around Eddie’s hips, encouraging him as well. Eddie didn’t need to be told twice and he was soon fucking you vigorously as Steve applied the slightest bit of pressure, not enough that you were struggling to breathe but enough to have you feeling light and dizzy.

“Look so pretty like this beneath me, taking my cock so well, I’m gonna cum now Angel, you gonna take it all like a good girl?”

“Yes Sir”, you gasp as he shifted his hips and began to fuck directly into your g-spot. Instantly your legs dropped open as you were once more overwhelmed with pleasure and cumming with Eddie who grunted just as loudly as you moaned through each of your orgasms.

As soon as he stopped spilling his seed, he pulled out and moved away but was swiftly replaced by Steve who sat back on the couch and pulled your trembling body into his arms. You’re still moaning, clenching and shivering as he holds you close, lips against your temple as he whispered sweet praises to you, “Did so well for both of us, so proud of you babe, we’re gonna look after you ok? Just take a few deep breaths for me, I need you to slow you breathing down, that’s it, well done”. 

You hadn’t even realised just how panicked your body was reacting to being overstimulated and thoroughly fucked, drifting into a submissive space of needing the comfort of their warm bodies. Each word that Steve spoke, you mentally clung onto, slowing your breathing down which in turn settled your disorientated mind.

You were still shaking as if you were cold, even though you were still half-dressed in the cheerleader uniform as you nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his smell. This was when another pair of hands rested against your thighs, easing them open slightly. “Careful Sweetheart, just going to clean you”. Even though Eddie was soft and tender with his touches, you still couldn’t help from flinching at the contact of the warm cloth stroking over your puffy, used pussy. “All done, now I need you to drink this for us”.

You turn your head towards the voice and then a glass is pressed against your lips, opening your mouth, Eddie helps you to drink the glass of water before you once more nuzzle into Steve. “Are you in pain?” the man holding you asks. You’re still feeling floaty so you try and shake your head, not wanting them to worry, only wanting to make them happy.

“I need to hear your words, Baby, you know that”, Steve continues, sitting up slightly so that you're forced to move away from his neck.

“N-No”, you whisper, giving the automatic answer but then you really thought about it, especially as the adrenaline began to wear off.

Eddie and Steve noted the stutter and shared a worried look. “You sure about that?” Eddie asked, his fingers interlocking with yours, another move to help ground you to the moment rather than getting lost between whether you were still in a dom/sub scene or the reality that it was over.

“N-no, I’m not sure”, you admit after a couple of minutes.

“Talk to us, what are you not sure about? Where does it hurt?” Steve encouraged.

“I have a tummy ache”, finally you admit, feeling a dull throb in your stomach, almost like a light period cramp.

“Sorry Sweetheart, did I go too hard?” Eddie asks guilty, his doe eyes wide with worry.

“No, you didn’t go too hard, I mean, I liked it”, you say, finally opening your eyes and smiling sweetly at him. Perking your lips Eddie got the hint and leaned forward for a gentle kiss before he stood and walked into the open kitchen area. A couple more minutes passed as the moisture that had formed on your skin began to cool, you shivered as a calm gust of air brushed over your body. Eddie returned then, with a hot water bottle which he pressed against your stomach, some pain relief that you took, a blanket and a bag of chips that Steve helped you to eat after taking a greedy handful for yourself.

“Was everything else ok?” Steve asked with a mouth full of snacks.

“Yeah, everything else was great”, you answer honestly and tiredly against his shoulder, still feeling limp in your body.

“What about needing a break? What happened there?” Eddie asked as he sat next to Steve, behind your back, crowding in close to you both once more.

“Just felt like a little too much, I knew I just needed a break, I wouldn’t have asked you to do anything differently”.

“What about you? Everything ok with you?” Steve asks Eddie as he feeds him a couple of chips.

“Yeah, everything was perfect with me, you?” Eddie asks, smiling genuinely at his boyfriend.

“Yeah, everything is perfect with me too”. The boys lean in and kiss each other slowly before Steve leans back with an idea, “Shall we go out for some food? I’ve heard there’s a new Italian a couple of blocks away from Nancy’s.”

You frown and open your eyes to look up to Steve who was now looking down at you with a shit-eating grin then you realise he was joking. “Funny Stevie, I don’t think I’m going to be on my feet any time soon but food does sound good and more than just chips”.

“How about I order in? Pretty sure I’ve got a couple of coupons in my car”, Steve manhandled and shuffled your body until you were in Eddie’s arms who was now dressed in so grey joggers and Steve rushed to the bedroom to find his own, then out of the front door to go to his car.

Snuggling in close to Eddie, feeling the heaviness of sleep starting to take over your body. That is until he whispers against your hair, “I bet you ten bucks you’re asleep before he comes back”.

Your eyes snap open as you look up at him, fighting sleep as you confidently responded, “You’re on Munson”.

[sundew199]

Times Two

a/n: good lord this is long and filthy. If you prefer to read it on AO3, it'll be linked. I've also never written a threesome before and tried my best, hopefully it isn't too horrible :)

words: 8,180

tags: Reiner x Jean x F!reader, rough sex, rough oral sex, Eiffel tower position, slight panty kink (Reiner), cum eating, Reiner and Jean are Bisexual, College AU, Reijean if you pay attention or care lol, pet names

What was it about Reiner and Jean that had you constantly glued to their hips? If you’re friends were to ask they’d say it was a double crush you were denying. If you asked your family their answers would vary from underlying crush, to enjoying being the center of attention or a close friendship. You personally didn’t think you were attached to their hips at first, but the more people started to whisper and theorize, you started to ask yourself the question. In reality, Reiner and Jean were your closest and longest friends, surviving multiple friend groups and growing up. You met Reiner in grade school, sat next to him on the first day of fourth grade and throughout the whole year due to the teacher’s assigned seating. The two of you might as well have been siblings, walking home together, eating dinner and playing at each other's house, even his mom and your parents were close after a while. Jean entered the scene later, seventh grade to be exact when he transferred mid year and as luck would have it the three of you shared almost all classes together. Reiner was the one who sought out Jean’s friendship and you became friends by proxy and from then on all the way to college the three of you were tight knit. 

Attending the same university is what you think further solidified the glue between the three of you, swearing to everyone it wasn’t intentional to attend the same university together. Some believed you and others didn’t, but you really didn’t care. Thankfully rumors spreading about you being in a three way relationship with them ended going to college, high school was rampant. You’d admit that it did bother you, because why couldn’t you be really good friends with two guys? Why did everyone have to make it seem the other way around? Reiner and Jean never hesitated to defend your honor against the rumors, landing themselves in suspension once or twice when defending you turned physical. Even when you tried to blame yourself, they never allowed it. 

Now when people questioned what the true nature of your friendship was with them, you’d play into the bit and come up with wildly different answers on how the dynamics of the relationship worked. Reiner and Jean both got a kick out of it as did you. 

Junior year of college is what changed things for the three of you. Since you couldn’t room with them in the dorms since they were guys, all three of you decided to rent a condo off campus. You’d spent almost all your life with both of them so there wasn’t any harm in living with them, besides all three of you were just friends. 

Towards the end of the first semester of junior year already and finals quickly approaching, you were buried in your books, studying like a madman to keep your GPA around or above a 3.5, needing the best possible grades to earn the degree you were working towards. Jean and Reiner had it easy in your mind, ashy haired man working towards a degree in Art History and the blonde meathead shooting towards that finance degree. In hindsight, they didn’t have it much easier than you, but they were also stupidly smart in their own respective studies. You envied them in a sense. 

It was chilly out, keeping two blankets wrapped around you sitting at your desk and scrolling through the notes you took the other day to refresh your mind for the practice test on Monday. As much as you wanted to deny it, you need a mental break from school but wouldn’t allow yourself to take it, not when so much was riding on the line. 

“Hey.” 

Jumping in your chair at the sound of a gruff voice at your bedroom door, blinking and rubbing your eyes from staring at the screen for too long. Swiveling to face whichever one of them it was, you wrapped the blanket around you tightly. 

“Yea.” 

“Are you still planning on watching the season premier of the show later?” Reiner asked, tapping his knuckles on your doorframe and leaning into it. Your eyes refused to focus on his face and instead on the bulging bicep through the fabric of the long sleeve shirt he wore. Since when were his arms that big? I mean fuck you knew he worked out but you’d never noticed how ripped his arms alone were. 

“Yeah if I finish going through my notes.” 

Reiner scoffed, rolling his eyes and approaching you, reaching over you to slam the laptop shut, deciding for you if you were going to look over the rest of your notes or not. 

“Reiner-” 

“You’ve been holed up in here for almost two days. I know finals are important but I’ll bet your brain is fried to a crisp.” Defiantly declaring, crossing those beefy ass arms over his chest and waiting for you to give in like he knew you would. 

Whatever. The premier of the new season of the show the three of you watched would only be an hour, and then you could return to forcing yourself to absorb as much information as possible. Sighing dramatically for effect and throwing the blankets off of yourself, you uncross your stupidly numb legs and ignore the sharp tingles running up from your foot as you stride over to the small closet to put on a sweatshirt. Reiner didn’t bother leaving as you tossed your t-shirt and bra from where you stood partially out of view to pull the sweatshirt over your head. 

“Jean is picking up food and drinks - is that my sweatshirt that I haven’t been able to find?” Sounding hurt and accusatory as you brushed past him out of your room, looking back to nod with a smile, because yes it was his and it was his fault for mixing it in with your laundry. He muttered down the small hallway to the main area of the condo all three of you shared, pinching your shoulder when he purposely knocked past you, hearing the muttering replaced with chuckles. 

One of them had taken the liberty to find all the blankets that were supposed to already be in the living room and tossed them all over the couch, setting up for the three of you to comfortably watch the premier. You could hear Reiner in the kitchen that flowed into the open concept living room, making a whole bunch of unnecessary noise in trying to find whatever it was. If you were being honest, living with your closest friends was turning into living with siblings, getting into pointless arguments and doing everything to get on each other's nerves. Would you change it to live with a regular roommate that could be a hit or miss in how well you got alone? Hell no. 

Finding a spot on the couch while waiting for Jean, you decided to look through all the notifications you missed while studying for hours. Some of your classmates were checking in, or asking questions about the notes, contemplating on whether you should respond. They could wait, Reiner was probably right when he said your brain was fried at this point. Checking social media quickly turned into envy seeing some of your other friends enjoying the holiday break, done with their finals and celebrating by jumping from parties to bars or wherever they sold cheap alcohol. If only you were done with finals so you could actually destress, but that just wasn’t in the cards. 

Jean came through the door after barreling through it, hands full with food and drinks. From the strong aroma, you knew he went to go get wings, always choosing the messiest option somehow. 

“Damn out of your room finally? Swore you died or something.” Commenting with a smirk as he passed by the couch to get to the kitchen where Reiner was snickering at his comment. Rolling your eyes instead of lashing back, you joined them in the kitchen to plate some of the food and momentarily forget about the weight of finals. 

“Please tell me you didn’t just get beer.” Approaching the center island of the kitchen, noticing the familiar white box in one of the bags that happened to be Jean and Reiner’s preferred drink of choice. If they wanted to give you a break, they would’ve at least gotten drinks that didn’t take four or five to actually start to feel the buzz. 

“No, I got you those lemonade drinks.” 

Ugh you could kiss him. As much as you loved Jean as a friend he had a tendency to forget to grab whatever you needed when he went out, always having to send you or Reiner back to the store to go grab it. Taking the glass bottle and popping the lid, the tingling fizzy drink left a slight burn as it went down your throat, just the right amount for you to down an entire six pack in a night and not regret your life choices in the morning. 

“Shows about to start.” Reiner announced after checking his phone, taking his plate with him to the couch. You and Jean did the same, grabbing the drinks as well to keep from having to get up and get another if you wanted. 

Sitting next to Reiner at a reasonable distance, Jean plopped down next to you and ended up sandwiching you between them. They were doing the absolute most to work every single one of your nerves, but you didn’t want to lash out again like you did earlier this week when one of them accidently ate your leftovers in the fridge. Tucking your feet under you as Reiner found the streaming service the show was premiering on, you actually didn’t mind being squished between them, their combined body heat doing more than the blanket over your lap would warm you up. 

The host for the show gave a quick recap of last season, breaking down the drama and how it might affect this season. This dating competition game that you had started watching out of boredom surprisingly took the guys interest, somehow watching it with you when it was on to turning into offense when you’d watch the latest episode without them. Despite the show being corny and scripted and at times unbearable to watch, it was nice to do something like this with them. 

“I swear to god if Jodi and that dick Preston aren’t broken up I might not watch the show anymore.” 

Jean hummed in agreement with Reiner, guzzling down the rest of his first beer and reaching for another. “I know, he’s so fucking annoying and Jodi is either dumb or desperate if she hasn’t left him yet.” 

Biting back a laugh as you took a bite of one of the wings, you looked at both of them to see they were being completely serious, so engrossed in this stupid show. The premise of this variant of a dating show was two people are paired up as a couple in the beginning and go through a series of challenges to see if they’re right for each other. Couples who continuously didn’t work together could get voted off or petition to break up with their partner. The downside was if there wasn’t another couple trying to split, you could be left without a partner and voted off, ya know all those stupid dating show rules that make you question why anyone would sign up to do it. 

Finally beginning to destress while nursing your vodka infused lemonade, it all went to shit when the couple you were rooting for petitioned to split. 

“Oh my god no! Why?! They were so good together!” Exclaiming and throwing your arms up, throwing your head back into the couch and pouting like a child. 

“Man that sucks, but he did fuck Serena last season so I’d leave him to.” Reiner commented, grabbing your attention even more, failing to recall that important detail. 

“Really?” 

“Oh yeah, they were getting each other off in that hallway, remember? Moaning so loud it's a shocker no one heard them.” Jean answered, laughing a little as he recalled the scene you’d clearly missed. 

“Yea! She was standing there going ‘oh josh faster! I'm going to cum, oh my god I’m so close!’” Reiner took it upon himself to imitate the moans one of the contestants were making, and you wouldn’t have felt as uncomfortable if it wasn't for that throaty laugh he let out there at the end, turning your cheeks flush with pink and throwing back the rest of your drink to hide it. Jean found Reiner’s imitation hilarious, laughing a bit harder than you’d imagine he would if he wasn’t finishing his second beer already, grabbing another and throwing his arm behind the couch and slouching, lifting his hips in the air trying to get comfortable. 

Suddenly the short commercial playing on screen was so interesting, taking small sips of the second bottle of lemonade and trying to drown out the sounds of their talking over you. Studying your ass off for the last couple of months left you little to no time to snag yourself a quick one night stand. You’d been able to ignore the urges and pour everything into your notes and reviews, but fuck it was harder than you expected. Espescially when you pick up on conversations between Reiner and Jean on their nights out, the girls they sometimes went home with and wishing you were getting fucked into the next semester. When all three of you moved in here, everyone agreed not to bring anyone home, unless clearing it with the other two that they’d be gone for the night. It hadn’t happen yet (that you were aware of) and you were glad, unsure how you’d feel knowing one of your best friends was getting their dick wet and having to listen to it. 

Regular programming returned and tried as you did to focus on what was unfolding, you just couldn’t. Replaying Reiner’s laugh in your head and Jean’s hip motion, turning you warm all over and settling something funny yet familiar in your abdomen. You wouldn’t lie and say you haven’t though about fucking one of them, mostly they were just passing thoughts and that was it, but now? Jesus fucking christ your head was a mess. This what you get for turning down outings with other friends to study, leaving you hornier than a motherfucker. It’d be fine, the show only had about thirty minutes left and then you could go back to studying and rub one out if you really needed to. 

“I wonder why there aren’t any same sex couples? I’d like to see how that plays out.” Jean’s words had a slight slur to them as he spoke, now reclined completely with his feet propped up on the coffee table. 

“Wasn’t there one last season?” Reiner asked, in a similar position as Jean, one arm behind his head and his half drank beer between his thighs. 

“Mm no, I think Zach and Marco made out on a dare but they weren’t a couple.” Giving them an answer after searching through your brain for that jaw dropping scene from last season that had everyone talking about on social media.

“Oh yea I remember that, that was hot.” Jean slurred, heat dripping in his words and causing you to raise an eyebrow. Maybe it was because he was drunk, that was what you told yourself instead of questioning how your friend really felt about that scene unfolding.  

Every little movement either of them did drew your attention, watching as Reiner drank the last of his beer, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, only to be pulled away by Jean’s groans as he adjusted on the couch. They weren’t doing it on purpose and you were tipsy so that explained the clenching of your thighs to ease the throb, not because you were getting turned on by them. 

A preview of next week's episode played at the end of the premier, taking the liberty to watch it before getting up and heading back to your room to get your mind out of the gutter. But as you walked away, Reiner grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards him lazily. 

“Leaving already?” 

“I said I’d watch the premier with you guys and then study before going to bed.” Ignoring how large his hand looked around your wrist and how warm it was on your skin, taking in a sharp breath. 

“It’s Friday though.” The blonde whined, the slight inebriation turning him a bit sappy. 

“Play a game of cards with us and then go, please.” Jean chimed in, fluttering those hazel eyes at you, begging to spend just a little more time together. 

Not giving it much thought, you let out a sigh and walked to the media console below where the T.V hung on the wall to grab the deck of cards. Surely there was a quick game the three of you could play that wouldn’t send your mind further into the gutter or put you in a compromising situation. Jean managed to get up and grab some water for everyone, tossing one to you and Reiner as he sat down on the floor behind the coffee table, leaning back into the couch for support. 

“One round of B.S, alright?” Shuffling the cards between your hands and the table, repeatedly doing so that way everyone played fairly. 

“Lame but alright.” Jean agreed, chugging some of the water and sharing a look with Reiner that you didn’t understand and didn’t care to acknowledge. 

Dividing the entire deck between the three of you, now waiting for one of them to put down the ace of spades to begin the game. Reiner ended up having it and motioned towards you to go next. This game used to be a staple for you guys, playing every chance you got and getting into heated arguments whenever someone suspected someone else of putting down the incorrect card. 

The game went quietly in the beginning, until you picked up on Jean and Reiner putting down cards that they ‘supposedly’ had, smiling behind your deck every time they called out cards that were in your deck, the only thing keeping you from calling them out was waiting until the deck got a little thicker. 

“Two eights.” Reiner called out, looking at you to go next. 

“Bullshit.” 

“Ha! You sure? Cause I promise you I just put down two eights.” Reiner laughed, encouraging you to rethink your decision but also egging you on to check in hopes of watching you take the entire deck. 

“Check it.” Jean motivated from beside you, pushing his shoulder with yours. Reiner still had that confident look on his face which did end up making you regret your call out a bit, second guessing if you were right to call his bluff. No matter what since you called B.S, you had to check and you were going to livid if it actually was two eights. 

Reaching forward and thumbing apart the top two cards from the rest of the deck, you snuck a peak and saw what you didn’t want to see; two eights. 

“Nevermind, I take it back.” Knowing that wasn’t how the game worked but hoping you could worm your way out of it. 

“Uh uh, check.” Reiner insisted while standing up, coming to lean over you from behind, taking your arm and trying to force you to check the first two cards so the entire deck would go to you. Doing everything to resist, laughing as the man behind you snarled and laughed in your ear, still trying to force you to check with his hand over yours. Jean was leaning over to help, slipping an arm under the one that held your deck in the other hand, sandwiching you between them for the second time that night. 

“Just check, it’s okay if you’re a loser this round.” The taller of the two sneered in your other ear, brushing his lips over the shell and letting out a breathy laugh. You instantly shivered and became much more aware of your position, Reiner pressed into you from behind and Jean from the side. Heat rose in your entire body, refusing to let yourself enjoy the firm muscular bodies rubbing against yours. 

Resistance faltered completely as you got caught up in the overwhelming thoughts and sensations coursing through you, Reiner succeeding in getting your hand to flip over the top three cards, chuckling directly into ear. 

“Now was that so hard?” So close to the side of your face, you couldn’t help but turn and meet him. His eyes were still a bit hazy from the alcohol but not enough for you to feel guilty for leaning in and pressing your lips to his. 

Reiner gasped softly, giving into the feel of your soft plush lips on his and parting them when he felt yours begin to. You had absolutely no explanation for what spurred you to lean in and kiss what you considered your best friend, but you did and fuck did it feel nice. Reiner’s lips were surprisingly soft and the lingering remnants of his beer on his tongue kept you latched to his mouth. 

Behind you, Jean watched intrigued, though not entirely shocked. He would feel left out if he weren’t enjoying his two best friends making out on the floor of the living room, noticing how his sweat pants turned a little tighter. He smirked when Reiner peeked an eye open, a silent invitation to join in while pulling away from you. Jean wasted no time grabbing you by the back of your neck and slotting his lips into yours, sighing delightfully and wasting no time moving them with his. 

There wasn’t enough time for you to process that it was Jean you were kissing now, your other best friend, letting out a small moan when his tongue dipped into your mouth. He was slightly more insistent than Reiner was, moving faster and with a purpose but still reeling you in as your mouths stayed locked together. 

Coming up for air, not even wanting to think about what had just happened, you stood quickly. 

“C’mon,” Nodding towards what you think was Reiner’s room, knowing that if you gave yourself a moment to consider what you were about to do, you’d back out and hole yourself away in your room and never speak of this again. 

Both of them were quick to follow, smiling victoriously behind you. The door shut and you sat on the edge of Reiner’s bed, looking at both of them and debating on how this should continue to carry out. Consequences could come later, right now you’d gotten a taste of what you’d been actively avoiding for the sake of a GPA and needing so much more. 

“However you want to do this, I’m down.” Voicing your consent and ultimately putting all of your trust in both of them. You would admit this could be smoother sailing since you’d known both of them since childhood basically, but just not like that. There wouldn’t be much need to worry about keeping them in check like you would if it were someone you went home from the bar with and part of that excited you. 

Out of the two of them, Jean approached first, standing between your legs and grabbing your face and kissing you again. Slowly as your mouths returned to motions from minutes ago, the taller man began to push you back into the bed, holding himself above you with his hands beside your head. The bed dipped in the sudden weight of another person, knowing it was Reiner. 

Slender hands slipped under your sweatshirt, roaming around your skin and littering it with goosebumps. You gasped when the lith fingers brushed the underside of your breast, remembering you weren’t wearing a bra. Jean chuckled into your lips, humming as he dared to cup the flesh, sighing pleasantly when brushing his thumb over your nipple. 

Abruptly his mouth left yours, leaving you dazed and sitting up to search for his lips, only to see hands that weren’t Jean’s pulling his shirt off. Reiner stood on his knees just behind your head, tossing the shirt to the other side of the room and giving a playful smack to Jean’s pectoral. 

“Sharing is caring by the way.” The blonde rumbled behind you, scolding Jean and pinching his nipple teasingly, hearing Jean hiss softly before Reiner slipped his arms under your armpits and hauling you to face him. He was in nothing but his boxer briefs, the faint imprint of his half hard cock catching your eyes and widening at how big it looked beneath the fabric. Fuck you hadn’t even thought about how big either of them were, both impressively fit and no doubt having a dick to match the rigid muscles rippling over their bodies. 

Falling with Reiner as he leaned back on the bed, you threw your legs over his torso and smashed your mouth to his, feeling another set of hands from behind you lift the hem of your sweatshirt until you were bare from the waist up. The man below you groaned when you sat up on his abdomen, running his hand across your stomach. Acquainted hands from earlier snakes around to your chest, Jean cupping both of your tits and softly kissing down your neck while circling his thumbs over your nipples. 

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed from below, raising his hips as he watched Jean tease and stimulate your nipples in to pert buds. Mindlessly, you began to scoot down until you came in contact with the bulge beneath Reiner’s boxers, grinding in time with Jean’s circling thumbs. The blonde groaned again, bringing his hands to your hips and encouraging you. 

“Eager huh?” A voice teased, pinching both nipples harshly and sucking the side of your neck. You couldn’t think of anything but the rising heat in your body, the teasing from Jean and the quieted groans from Reiner below. Maybe you were stupid for never giving this a shot before, both seemed eager and willing to please and show you what a good time looked like. 

“Are these my sweat pants?” Jean asked, pulling off of your neck and slipping one of his hands to the waistband of said sweats, snapping the band against your skin. 

“Mhm.” Unable to give any other answer as Reiner started rolling his hips up to yours, matching the roll of your own. Wasn’t intentional to wear either of their clothes but seeing how it looked now only made you more desperate for them and if that got you what you wanted, then where was the harm. Reiner began to tug at the waistband, sitting up on his elbows after hearing the short conversation between you and Jean, aiding him by lifting your hips and no longer straddling his waist. 

Enough teasing, you decided, pulling down Reiner’s boxer briefs after he tossed the sweats aside, gripping the base and watching his face contort at the contact. He was thick from the base up, intimidating you from the sight and size alone. Jean chuckled, moving to lay beside his friend, cupping the side of his face and hovering above his lips. Interesting to see there was no resistance from Reiner when their lips slipped together, craning to reach the ashy haired man like he was desperate for his taste. Smirking while the two of them made out, you flattened your tongue over the top of Reiner’s cockhead, fluttering your eyes at the delicious groan that Jean swallowed from Reiner. It’d take some working up to taking his dick all the way down, girthy enough to know your jaw would ache when it was all said and done. 

Sucking around the head and moaning when Reiner’s hand reached down to grip Jean’s dick still shielded by the fabric of his briefs, seeing his hand move up and down. Had they done this before? You couldn't help but wonder the more you took Reiner’s dick down seeing how they were both so comfortable with each other’s touch, and the slight jealousy of being left out. Jean’s hip rutted into Reiner’s hand, breaking their make out session to finally pull his briefs off and give you a look at what he was packing as well. It was slightly longer than Reiner’s, by an inch or two but not as thick, pausing your bobbing head to stare between his legs. 

“I think she likes it.” Reiner hissed, bringing a hand to your head, pushing you further down his dick and letting his head fall back when the tip brushed the back of your throat. 

“Haven’t met anyone who hasn’t.” Jean quipped back, moving off the bed and coming to stand behind you. You watched Reiner’s eyes follow him, a sly smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Warm hands massaged your ass cheeks, gasping around the cock still deep in your throat when two fingers swiped over your clothed pussy. 

“Fucking soaked.” He commented behind you, Reiner groaning approvingly as he still guided your head up and down on his dick. Jean then pulled your panties down, tossing them over to Reiner who shamelessly brought them to his nose, listening to him mutter a few words and pull you off of his dick to give you a break. Jean then took to spreading you apart, licking a strip from your clit to your entrance, squeaking out a moan and falling forward onto Reiner’s abdomen. The blonde pulled you forward until your tits dangled in his face, taking one into his mouth. 

“Holy shit-” Gasping at the double stimulation, forgetting all shame and grinding back into Jean’s face, who appreciated the gesture with a firm slap to one ass cheek, dipping his tongue inside you, slurping obnoxiously. You were shaking, struggling to hold yourself up, moaning like the whore you felt like. Reiner managed to keep you steady above him, holding you so he could bite and suck at your over sensitive nipples. You knew both of them were experienced but fuck, they were intent on making it impossible to make any future hookups impossible to enjoy, hoping this wouldn’t be a one time thing. 

Reiner suddenly bit down hard on your nipple, pulling off it with a tug and causing you to wince at the slight pain. Unsure of what would cause him to do that, you turned around to see one of Jean’s hands between your bodies, languidly stroking the blonde’s spit coated dick. This wasn’t exactly the right time to question the nature of your two friends' relationship, but the way Reiner was moaning and struggling to return to the task at hand, it continuously flashed in the back of your head. Jean was still buried in your pussy while simultaneously jacking Reiner off, pressing your forehead to Reiner’s and practically synchronizing your moans. 

“Fuck, have you two done this before?” asking the man below you, watching his slow nod come before his answer. 

“Yea - fuck - every once in a while.” panting as his hips grinded into Jean’s hand, and sitting up enough to where he could pry the man away, seconds away from cumming. 

Jean took the hint, also pulling away from your pussy and stroking it affectionately. You winced at the final slap he gave to your ass, coming back to lay beside Reiner, taking the side of his face and turning it towards him. 

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ devine.” 

“Oh yea?” Bolding swiping his tongue over Jean’s bottom lip, speaking as if you weren’t there listening to them talk. You watched as they kissed again, yearning for the combined taste and chastising yourself for not noticing the signs for whatever they had going on sooner. 

“Think I need a better taste for myself, lay down for me baby.” Reiner instructed, already moving to get out from under you. Jean chuckled deviously, pecking the side of your mouth and moving to the very back of the bed, reclining against the headboard, patting his inner thigh. Reiner immediately knew what he was wanting and waited until you were sitting between the other man’s legs to center him between yours. 

“Keep’em spread for me.” Glancing up to the other man, running his palms over your inner thighs. 

You were already so sensitive from Jean eating you out minutes ago, you were afraid you weren’t going to last much longer. Nevertheless, you let Jean hook your legs over his and watched on baited breath as the blonde examined your slick and puffy folds. 

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” His voice so airy, breathing over your cunt prior to latching onto your clit. Your back arched off of Jean’s chest, whining at the intentionally harsh sucks. The man behind you held you down with an arm around your chest, chuckling right beside your ear. Reiner looked up, smiled against your tingling flesh and flicked his tongue over your clit while he continued to suck. 

Jesus fucking christ, it was too much, you were already starting to feel yourself cum when Jean’s hand tipped your head back. “Don’t cum, not yet gorgeous.” 

“Jean, I can’t.” Mewling pathetically, feeling the beginnings of tears at your waterline from the overstimulation. 

“Sure you can.” Giving a slow grind of his dick on your lower back, the promise of a silent reward if you did what you were told. Keeping your head thrown back on his shoulder you shamelessly moaned and whimpered as Reiner alternated between sucks and swirls of his tongue, listening to his chuckles as you writhed against Jean. He finally pulled away only to shove his middle and ring finger inside, pulling you too look at him by your chin as he sat on his knees between your legs and furiously fingered you. 

“Fuck look at you, so pretty baby.” He cooed with a smirk, running along the spongy part deep inside of you and giving a small tilt of his head, knowing you would take it as your indicator to cum. 

You came on a broken cry, arched off Jean’s chest and pulsating around Reiner’s fingers. Both of them laughed endearingly at their combined success at getting you to come. Reiner pulled his fingers out, locked his eyes with yours and sucked the two digits clean. Jean was the one who moaned behind you at the act, dick still grinding into your lower back subtly. 

“Think you’re okay to take one of us?” One of them asked, still delirious from your orgasm to tell who was asking. You gave a nod and sat forward, not really caring how but still feeling the ache in your cunt for more. 

“Alright hands and knees then princess.” It was Jean instructing, hearing his voice vibrate in his chest that was still pressed to your back. 

On shaky legs you sat on your knees, watching them move around as you positioned yourself on all fours. Reiner was still behind you, massaging your ass cheeks and letting out huffs of appreciation at your puffy wet folds, his and Jean’s handy work. Jean sat on his knees in front of your face, running a loose fist over his angry cock, using the pre-cum leaking from the slit to lubricate his motions. 

“If it’s too much, pinch my thigh or kick the brute behind you.” Jean swooned, holding your head up to look at him as he spoke, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, watching the anticipation blaze in his irises. 

“We’ll take care of you angel,” Reiner pressed himself into your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. All you could do was nod, witness the shared glance between both of them and wait on pins and needles. 

The fat head of Reiner’s cock started to slide between your folds teasingly, wetting the tip and making it hard to focus on your gentle kisses you were giving to Jean’s. It was good they were both aware of their size and knew they couldn’t just shove themselves in disregarding you completely, but holy shit, if your weeping cunt wasn’t enough to entice Reiner to slip inside you already then you weren’t sure what will. 

A hand held your jaw when you enclosed your lips around the tip, sucking long and slow, tasting the salty pre that continuously leaked out. Jean’s head was thrown back, the defined muscles cascading over his body clenching the more you took in his cock more. You could hear Reiner chuckle on a low breath, pushing just the tip inside of you and giving a full body shutter. If their goal was to drive you insane with their pace, it was working, taking things into your own hands and pushing your hips back into Reiner until you were flush to his pelvis. 

He choked, dug his fingers into your hip and somewhat growled with the ragged breaths he was taking. It was Jean’s turn to laugh now, the sound so disgustingly seductive you could feel yourself grow wetter around the cock you shoved yourself on. 

“God you’re fucking tight, feels so good.” The blonde breathed out, pulling his hips back nearly all the way, returning the favor by thrusting forward and sending Jean’s cock deeper down your throat. The hand not holding your chin tangled harshly in your hair, looking down with parted lips and hooded eyes at the sight and little reaction you gave. They may have known you all your life but they didn’t know how well you could take dick, letting a small amount of pride surge through you at their astonishment.  

Their rhythm synchronized quickly, settling somewhere in the middle of not too soft and not too rough, letting you adjust to their respective sizes. You knew it wouldn’t last before they abandoned it all and used you to find their pleasure, just from radiating restraint coming off of them, eventually fucking your throat and pussy like you were nothing but a hole to be filled and that thought alone was exciting. 

“Shit, do that again.” Jean breathily exclaimed, enjoying the method of your tongue swirling around his shaft as he plunged in and out of your mouth, tipping your head back with the hand still in your hair. Giving him a hum, you repeated the action, felt your stomach flip in on itself as he moaned prettily. 

There was a slight hitch in breath from the man behind you, faltering in his thrusts and seemingly regaining his composure. Something about Reiner experiencing the same surge of arousal as your were at Jean’s expression and action thickened the lust hanging in the air around you. He didn’t resume his pace like you were expecting him to, but yanked back into focus on Jean tightening his grip in your hair and pistoning his hips forward, fucking your throat with vigor, something snapping inside him. 

“There you go, gorgeous.” Growling, inhaling sharply through his nose. Your eyes were welling up with tears, the ache in your jaw beginning but you didn’t want to stop, not until his cum was trickling down your throat, leaving you no choice but to swallow. Reiner palmed both of your ass cheeks, spreading them far apart and slamming into with the same force Jean was. This sudden switch up had your legs nearly buckling, tears rolling down your cheeks and pathetic whines and whimpers muffled. Your pussy fluttered around Reiner everytime Jean thrusted down your throat, the wet squelching noise turning obscene, your gummy walls sucking the blonde back in over and over, like your pussy craved to be stretched and fucked on his thick cock. 

“Fuck she feels so good, so wet,” Reiner groaned, talking to Jean, again like you weren’t there. 

“Mm, she sucks cock better than you.” Jean groaned back at the mental image his friend was painting, acknowledging your mouth felt just as good as your pussy probably did. 

“Not my fault, you barely give me a chance before trying to get me inside you.” 

Their banter of a conversation sending you into a new wave of arousal, images of their bulky bodies fighting over who would fuck who and never in your life did you think something like that would turn you on. Despite it being your two best friends fueling these fantasizing images, you couldn’t help but want to be in the middle of that from here on out. From the way both of them fucked you, there wasn’t any desire to look for anymore hook-ups, not when the two perfect candidates were right here. 

“Gonna cum princess, be a good girl and swallow it all for me.” A husky voice drawing you back to reality, doing your best to give him a nod and look up at him with doe-like eyes, a trick that worked on just about every guy. 

With a slow drawn out groan, Jean pushed the entirety of his cock into your mouth and down your throat, pressing your nose to the happy trail below his belly button. Hot ropes of cum shot down your throat, feeling him ease up and pull out of your mouth so he wouldn’t accidentally choke you with his cum. He gave you a lopsided smile, wiping away the milky liquid from your bottom lip and the corner of your mouth with his thumb, shuffling over to Reiner who was still fucking your pussy absolutely raw. You could only assume the blonde cleaned off the cum smeared thumb Jean presented him, based on the hiss and brief collision of mouths. 

A heavy palm landed on the center of your back, forcing you off of your elbows holding you up and forming a deep arch in your back. From this angle, Reiner was able to sink so much deeper inside you, splitting you in half on his thick cock, crying out with a moan. 

“Glad I held off, been dying to hear those pretty moans again baby.” He chuckled, putting more of his weight into the hand on your back, forcing you to keep the arch. 

“Fuck Reiner, don’t stop.” Gasping, twisting the bedsheets in a tight fist, the tears welling up in your eyes again. 

“Don’t plan to, sweetheart, I want to see you leaking by the time I’m done.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, unable to stop the constant moans and incoherent noises leaving your lips. Jean had come back into view, partially laying down beside you, keeping your hair out of your eyes and giving you a look of endearing smugness, like watching you getting fucked by Reiner was better than fucking you himself. 

Skin slapping on skin echoed in the bedroom, your body coated in a layer of sweat and your limbs so weak that if it weren’t for Reiner holding you by the hips now, you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself upright. Your spongy walls clenched repeatedly around him after another orgasm, unsure of how many at this point. 

“Doin’ so good, doll.” Jean cooed, pinching the nipple he had been messing with and muffling your broken squeak with a soft kiss, keeping you occupied. Reiner grunted, beginning to break his steady harsh rhythm and fucking into you furiously with abandon. His breathing turned into short gasps, letting out something of a whine, tipping his head back with two final slams of his hips before cumming inside of you. 

A familiar warmth filled your pussy, moaning weakly into Jean’s lips, giving up on holding your position. Reiner pulled out slowly, groaning as he watched a glob of his cum drip from your hole. You collapsed on the bed, forcing yourself to turn over and lay on your back, placing your hands over your eyes to ease the dizziness you were experiencing. 

Just when you thought all the nerve endings in your body were shot, you sprung forward when a flat tongue glided over your folds, seeing Reiner lap up the mess he made between your legs, smirking and moving out of the way so Jean could do the same thing. 

“Fucking filthy.” Muttering at the sight of them both taking turns cleaning you up, your legs twitching and tingling from sensitivity. They both looked at you guiltless, even though you were shaking with overstimulation that didn’t stop you from pressing Jean’s head into your folds, watching as he eagerly lapped at Reiner’s cum. They switched again, Reiner being gentler this time, only running his tongue across your messy slit twice before using his middle finger to shove some of it back in. 

Reiner moves out from between your legs to lay beside you, cradling the side of your face for the sole purpose of giving you a taste of his cum. You were just as shameless, moaning into the kiss and running your hand through his sweaty hair, feeling him smirk against your lips. He pulled away, grabbing Jean by the back of the neck and slotting his lips between his, kissing him rather tenderly. 

With zero strength to make it to the bathroom, let alone your room to grab a change of clothes, Reiner and Jean took the liberty of taking care of you. Both of them pulling on their sweats thrown around the room, Reiner cleaned your inner thighs while Jean went to your room to grab you some underwear after tossing you one of Reiner’s sweatshirts. All three of you situated yourself into Reiner’s king bed, you of course in the middle of them both. There was so point in going back to your room and studying, not when you had several unanswered questions. 

“So how long have you two been dating?” They both froze beside you, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

“We’re not dating, we just fuck occasionally.” Jean answered, Reiner nodding to further reaffirm the statement, but you weren’t buying it. Their chemistry in bed was enough to convince you they’d been hiding a relationship from you. 

“You just fuck? No feelings attached?” 

“There’s obviously feelings when we’ve been friends this long, but we’re not exclusive.” Reiner responded, propping himself up on his elbow and looking in the direction of you and Jean. “We didn’t tell you because there wasn’t anything serious between us.” 

Okay, that made more sense than you were expecting too. But experiencing what you just did created a longing inside of you, one that might’ve been there that you didn’t want to acknowledge before now. Jean and Reiner were your best friends without a doubt, but they were also so much more than that and in order to not ruin the friendship, you shoved that deep down inside of you. 

“But,” Jean’s hands from behind turned you to look towards him. “We’re also not opposed to the idea of you being a part of this situationship.” 

“You’ve talked about this?” Surprised to know this wasn’t a coincidence happening, sounding like they planned this in a way. 

“Of course we have, do you know how long both of us have had a crush on you?” Reiner laughed, sending your mind into a flurry of confusion. They liked you? Like holding affectionate feelings beyond friendship for you? 

“Huh?” 

“Since junior or senior year of high school. We didn’t know we both felt the same way about you until after we had sex for the first time six months ago, agreeing that if it ever came to the point where you chose one of us over the other we would be okay with it.” Jean was speaking now, softly and almost lovingly, sending a blush to your face. 

“And we’ll never ask you to choose, if you want only one of us that’s fine and if you end up wanting both of us, that’s fine too.” Reiner spoke with the same inflection Jean did, softly smiling and looking at you endearingly. 

“I want both of you.” Blurting out without even thinking twice, hearing them laugh. But you knew you would rather have both than just one, it's always been the three of you. 

“Don’t decide now idiot, we’re being serious.” Jean pinched your shoulder with a frustrated grunt, rolling his eyes while Reiner just laughed softly. 

“We can talk about it more tomorrow, it’s late.” Reaching over to turn the lamp off on his bedside table, pulling you down under the comforter into his arms and kissing the top of your head. Jean shuffled behind you, pressing his chest to your back and kissing your cheek. 

For a few moments you refused to close your eyes, trying to break down all the new feelings and emotions you were experiencing, from earlier when you were at their mercy, to the confession from them both. It was in a way exciting, and whatever ended up happening between the three of you, it would work out in the end.

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |4: One of the Good Ones|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.9k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series Installment List & Summary

a/n: Just a smidge of angst in this one! And I've already got a rough draft written for the next part, too! This story has been stuck in my head... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza

Your arm burned from the effort with which you were currently scrubbing your kitchen counter, working hard trying to remove a stubborn stain with the sponge in your hand. On the counter just behind you, your phone was playing music as you stress-cleaned. Truthfully you were too caught up in your thoughts as you'd been frantically jumping from one task to the next to have been paying much attention to what song was currently playing, though.

You'd already vigorously deep cleaned your bathroom, scrubbing your shower hard enough to make your fingers ache. Once you'd finished in there, you'd ended up in your bedroom, finally folding the laundry basket of clothes that had been sitting in the corner of your room all week. After that, you'd changed your bedsheets before bringing the dirty ones down to the laundry facility in your building to be washed. Upon returning to your apartment, you'd begun meticulously organizing your kitchen pantry before cleaning out the kitchen sink of dirty dishes. And then you'd landed on scrubbing your counters with every intention of cleaning off your stove top next.

You'd been cleaning like crazy after you'd come home from work tonight and finished dinner because you'd had a shitty day–though really it had been a shitty week. Everything had gone absolutely wrong at the office and you'd somehow managed to make a massive mistake on a big project the other day. Thankfully today you'd corrected the error, but your anxiety over the issue hadn't remotely disappeared. And of course, Eric, the most obnoxious and irritating co-worker at your workplace, had been at the top of his game of being an absolute asshole to you about the issue all week, too. You'd admittedly had far too many daydreams of throwing your coffee on him just to shut him up these past few days.

But as if that hadn't been enough, you'd found yourself becoming increasingly upset over the realization of your growing feelings for the Devil, who you hadn't actually seen since he'd appeared injured at your place just over a week ago. You were torn between believing his absence was either because he'd been recovering from his injury–which would also explain his absence in the news lately–or that he had zero interest in continuing whatever friendship you thought you'd both been developing. And because you'd gotten your period earlier today, you'd been hormonal all week. Which meant your brain had been telling you it was because of the latter reason.

But you didn't want to think about that. It was ridiculous to have a stupid crush on him. You didn't even know the man's name or what he looked like beneath the mask. You had no clue what he did for a living, if anything at all. And you'd only seen him three times now, it's not like you'd known him for months. It was quite likely he didn't feel the same despite the flirting he'd been doing. 

So that was what your brain continued to tell you this week whenever you got upset about his lack of appearances on your fire escape. That those visits hadn’t meant anything to him. You were just another person in the city he protected. His first visit had been accidental after all. And the second time was just to return the scarf he'd borrowed. The last time he had appeared had been because you'd been a convenient safe place for him to briefly stop and recover at when he'd been hurt, nothing more. 

Though trying to repeatedly rationalize that didn't make the ache in your chest disappear. It didn't stop you coming home every night from work hoping to have another surprise visit from the mysterious vigilante before you went to bed. And it certainly didn't stop you from shedding a few pathetic tears when he continued to remain absent each night. 

You'd begun to miss him. It was impossible to deny that now. And you'd worried about how he was doing with his injury, wondering if he really was alright. Which only had you wondering more about what he was capable of if he could meditate like that because–

“It's a bit early for spring cleaning, isn't it?”

Your hand abruptly paused mid-aggressive scrub of the stain that had long since been cleaned at the sound of the familiar and unexpected voice cutting through your thoughts. Eyes growing wide, you spun on your bare feet to find the Devil standing on the other side of your kitchen counter with a grin on his lips beneath that black mask.

“It's only February,” he teased. “Spring is still another few weeks away. Maybe show your counter a little mercy before you wear a hole in it.”

Hand gripping the soapy sponge tighter, you felt your heart nearly fly up into your throat in excitement. Because he'd come back . 

“You're here,” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he replied. He gestured a gloved hand back towards the window behind himself. “You left that unlocked, so I may have just invited myself inside since you didn't seem to respond to my knocking. I hope you don't mind.”

You shook your head quickly, still surprised to see he'd actually returned. It felt like someone had loosed a multitude of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of him standing there so casually in your apartment once again. It was something you'd missed all week.

“No, that's alright,” you told him, shaking your head. “I don't mind.”

“You should really keep it locked though,” he stated. “Literally anyone could just climb in here. That's not exactly safe.”

Still trying to shake off the surprise of his visit as you took a step forward, turning off your music, a nervous laugh slipped out of you. “I think you're the only one crazy enough to climb all the way up that rickety fire escape,” you replied.

You turned, heading over towards your kitchen sink in the hopes of busying yourself with washing your hands so he wouldn't see the embarrassing grin steadily growing on your face. 

“I think you might be surprised with what the criminals will do in this city,” he countered.

“Well that's…unsettling,” you muttered, turning off the faucet and drying your hands on the nearby kitchen towel. “With the way my week has been going though I suppose it would be my luck that someone probably would climb through my window. Someone other than you, I mean.”

You set the towel back on the hook near your sink, turning around only to find the Devil had stepped around the counter and into your kitchen. He was standing a few feet away, his head tilted curiously to the side. How the hell did he always manage to move so quietly?

“You're having a bad week?” he asked. “Is that why everything smells like lemon cleaner in here and why you were scrubbing your counter so hard you couldn’t hear me knocking on the window?”

Clasping your hands together in front of yourself, you fidgeted awkwardly with your fingers. Now that your hands weren't busy with an actual task you were feeling your anxious thoughts beginning to spiral again. Especially because it was only Thursday night and you still had to go into work tomorrow and deal with Eric and everyone else when all you desperately wanted to do was crawl into bed for the duration of the weekend and pretend this week never happened. 

“What's wrong, angel?” the Devil asked softly.

You glanced up at the sound of the name he’d called you just before he left your apartment last time, watching as he took another step towards you. You sniffled lightly, trying to ignore the confusing and conflicting feelings arising inside of you at the nickname. The smile disappeared from his lips, his mouth instead pulling a bit downwards at the corners. Swallowing hard, you waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Nothing, things are good,” you lied. “I'm fine.”

The frown visibly deepened on his face before he took another step closer. “Someone who's fine doesn't generally deep clean their place on a random Thursday evening,” he pointed out. “And it seems like you've been on the verge of tears for a bit now. What's going on?”

You swallowed hard, wondering how he could’ve possibly known that when he’d only just entered your apartment. Yet another one of his mysterious little powers, you figured.

“Nothing,” you answered. “Really, I’m good. I just got into a random cleaning frenzy. It happens.”

The Devil’s head canted further to the side, his lips thinning along his face. He shook his head slowly, taking another cautious step towards you.

“You’re not fine,” he replied. “And for the record, I know when someone is lying, angel.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted nervously at that name again. Surely it was meant to be more of a joke than a term of endearment considering you always called him Devil.

“Another useful skill of yours?” you asked curiously. “Like your ability to heal?”

Briefly a smirk slid over his mouth, one you caught just before it disappeared. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously back at him.

“Something like that,” he answered. “So believe me when I say that I’m not buying the line that you’re okay. What happened?”

Eyes darting down, your nails began to pick at your sweatshirt nervously. The memory of your boss chewing you out at work the other day resurfaced in your mind, quickly followed by one of Eric’s heartless comments to you afterwards. The continual disappointment of an empty fire escape night after night before you went to bed also reared its head, tears starting to sting at your eyes at the memory of those lonely nights. Blinking rapidly, you tried to stop the tears from coming.

You did not want to cry in front of the Devil.

“Nothing,” you muttered, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s all stupid in comparison to what you’re usually dealing with anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” he murmured, closing the remaining distance between you and gently grabbing your shoulders, lowering his masked face into your line of sight. “It’s not a competition.”

His light, reassuring touch only had the tears welling up faster in your eyes. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that. With comfort and care. A touch that made you feel both safe and seen. And here he was doing it with such ease, like you deserved that sort of attention–and from him no less. 

It suddenly became all too much. A single tear slipped out of the corner of your eye as you gazed up at his face half-obscured by that mask, unable to blink it back before it made its way down your cheek. The Devil’s hands carefully began pulling you in towards himself barely a second later. Surprised at his response, your arms remained wrapped around yourself as his arms slowly encircled your shoulders.

He was hugging you. Comforting you.

Somehow that managed to open the floodgates to your emotions, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks hot and wet in a continuous stream that you couldn't seem to control. Your hands gripped your sweatshirt tighter, unsure if you should hug him in return or not. Instead, you pressed your face into the thin fabric of his black shirt, attempting to hide how fast the tears were flowing from his sight.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were even crying at this point, either. Was it because of the shitty week you’d had? Because of the gentle touch and compassion coming from the masked vigilante, a touch that you hadn’t felt since you'd last been in a relationship? Was it because of the fact that him holding you like this only stirred up those confusing feelings further inside of you, making you wonder what this weird relationship with the Devil actually was? Or was it just because you were hormonal and on your period?

“I'm sorry,” you choked out.

“Don't apologize,” he replied instantly.

The smokey voice he always used had your fingers twisting tighter around your sweatshirt, your heart beating a little harder at the sound of it so soft beside your ear. You shifted, burying your face further against his chest. Though guilt quickly filled you as you cried. Because he shouldn't be comforting you, not for something so foolish. Not when there were people out there who actually needed him and all you'd had was a bad week, some out of control hormones, and a stupid crush.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “Is there something I can do to help?”

You shook your head, begging the tears to stop falling. This was embarrassing. You didn't want him to see you like this, let alone be comforting you.

“No,” you whispered. 

You have better things to be doing with your time , you thought bitterly. I don't deserve the comfort.

Clenching your jaw, you took an abrupt step back from him. You raised an arm up, using the sleeve of your sweatshirt to aggressively wipe the dampness from your cheeks. Before you, the Devil stood with his arms still hovering in the air as if he was still holding you, seemingly confused about you withdrawing from his embrace so suddenly. There was a large wet spot from your tears soaking the front of his black shirt already.

“I'm sorry, that was embarrassing,” you muttered, still wiping at your eyes as the tears gradually slowed. “I know you don't want to be dealing with an emotional mess tonight. That's not what the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen does.”

“Who says it's not what I do?” he countered, his arms lowering back to his sides. “I'm here to help people who need it–and for the record,” he added, “crying does not make you an emotional mess. Trust me on that.”

“Well,” you began, sniffling a little, “my problems aren’t the type you can punch. And you can't exactly punch away my feelings. Or my hormones. So I think this is a little out of your usual wheelhouse.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, “but you've helped me plenty of times now. Is it wrong for me to want to return the favor?”

So that's why he was comforting you. A sort of quid pro quo. Tit for tat. An exchange of favors, not because he'd genuinely cared about what had happened to you this week and would have offered to help anyway, but because he felt like he owed you something in return. That's what he was saying, wasn’t it? 

“I don't help you because I want anything in return,” you muttered, turning around and wiping the sleeve of your sweatshirt across your eyes once again. Afterwards, you reached up into a nearby cabinet and grabbed a clean glass from out of it. “I help you because I worry about you out there. And because I think you're one of the good ones.”

You closed the cabinet door before focusing on the faucet in front of you, filling the glass with cool water. Sniffling softly, you felt the tears beginning to slow to a stop as you tried to collect yourself. You’d cry about your misplaced feelings later when he wasn’t here. Right now you just wanted to enjoy his company and not scare him off with your tears. And maybe make sure he was doing alright himself tonight.

Once the glass was full, you turned off the faucet and inhaled a trembling breath, attempting to steel your resolve. You were not going to cry anymore tonight. 

“For what it's worth,” the Devil said from behind you, “I think you're one of the good ones.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at his comment, your back still facing him. Now that sounded like a line.

“I’m serious,” he continued. “How many people would help a vigilante instead of turning him over to the police? And how many would just ignore him entirely? And here you are inviting me into your home multiple times now without question. Always offering whatever form of assistance you can when you certainly don't need to.”

Eyes dropping down to the full glass in your hands, you felt your heart flutter in your chest at his kind words. Clearing your throat, you tried to swallow the lump that had begun to form. “I think you vastly underestimate what you mean to the people in this city, Devil,” you whispered.

Gradually you turned back around, the glass of water clutched between both of your hands. His lips were once again pulled in a straight line across his face, his head faintly tilted to the side. 

“You're a symbol of hope to many in Hell’s Kitchen,” you said softly, extending the glass out towards him. “A sign that there’s still good in the world. That there are still people who care about helping those in need.”

You could see the muscles working in his cheeks, the corner of his lips twitching faintly. You wondered what expression he was making beneath the mask right now. Was he not aware of what he meant to this city?

“Here,” you said, holding the glass out further towards him. “Drink it. I’m sure you’re dehydrated.”

The Devil’s right hand flexed open and shut at his side for a moment, your eyes drawn to the movement. After a minute's hesitation you saw it raise, reaching out to carefully accept the glass of water from your own hand. He murmured a soft ‘thanks’ as he drew it up towards his lips. In silence you watched the bob of his throat as he drank almost half the glass immediately, a satisfied smile eventually landing on your face. 

“You hungry?” you asked, stepping around him and heading over to your fridge. “I have spaghetti leftover from dinner tonight. Unfortunately no garlic bread,” you grumbled, opening the door of your fridge. “Because my week was apparently so bad that I even forgot to grab garlic bread at the store.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he assured you.

Half bent in front of your fridge, you glanced over your shoulder, shooting him a flat look. “Are you planning to go home and eat something before you go to sleep tonight?” you asked him. “From the fridge you have apparently only stocked with beer, eggs, and sometimes orange juice?”

He hung his head in defeat, his gaze behind the mask appearing to drop to the floor. It looked like he was fighting back a grin on his face.

“Well…no,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Right,” you said, focus returning to the contents of your fridge. “So do you eat spaghetti? Because I have plenty.”

“If you’re that determined to feed me, yes,” he answered. “I do.”

Reaching into your fridge, you pulled out the container of leftovers that you’d put away earlier this evening before you’d begun meticulously stress cleaning. You closed the door, bringing the container over to your counter and setting it down before searching for a clean bowl and a fork.

“So how’s your rib doing?” you asked as you worked. “Did your doctor friend tell you it was broken? Have you somehow meditated it back to normal already with that useful ‘skill’ of yours?”

The Devil chuckled good-naturedly behind you as you began scooping some pasta into a bowl for him. Internally you thought it strange that he found that somehow funny, though that warmth of pleasure filled you at once again still being able to make him laugh.

“She's a nurse, not a doctor, and that's hard to say,” he answered. “I’d need an x-ray to know if I had actually broken it, and I can’t exactly go to a hospital because they’d surely call the authorities on me. But either way, it’s feeling better than that night I was last here. Not completely healed with my ‘skill,’ but the pain is…tolerable.”

You stopped mid-scoop of some pasta, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Quirking a brow at him, you shot him a quizzical look. 

“The pain is ‘tolerable’?” you asked him. “So you mean to tell me you’re still going around tonight scaling buildings and jumping off fire escapes with an injury that’s not even fully healed?”

The Devil shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, shooting you a charming smile. “Yeah,” he answered. “Something is almost always injured or hurting. But it's not like crime ever takes a night off. So usually neither do I.”

Sighing, you focused back on scooping pasta into the bowl for him. “I'm starting to worry about your sanity,” you half-joked. “You know, I've always wondered why you do what you do. I don't suppose you'd answer that truthfully, would you?”

Picking up the bowl, you stepped over towards your microwave and set it inside. Setting the timer to heat it up, you turned around and leant your back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed him expectantly. 

The Devil shook his head, a faint smile on his mouth. “No, not right now,” he answered. “But maybe someday I could answer that for you.”

Hugging your arms tighter around yourself, you tried to hide the thrill that shot through you at his answer. The prospect of him continuing to visit you was clearly layered in his response and you couldn't even begin to explain how that made you suddenly feel.

“Always so mysterious,” you muttered nervously, glancing down at your feet.

“Don't suppose you'd ever give me your name, would you?” he countered.

You grinned, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as the microwave hummed behind you. “I'll tell you mine when you tell me yours, Devil,” you replied. 

“So mysterious ,” he teased back, grinning. 

You tried to bite back the smile growing on your face, laughing softly. The grin only grew wider on his face and your cheeks began to heat at the sight. You could feel your heart beating a little faster as you watched him from across the kitchen, taking in the handsome shape of his mouth and feeling the nervous churning of your stomach beginning to increase at the comfortable silence that fell over you both.

Thankfully your microwave beeped a moment later, pulling you from the moment that surely would have only resulted in you further ogling him, wondering what he looked like beneath the mask. Turning around, you opened the microwave and removed the bowl of spaghetti. You set it back onto the counter, mixing it around with a fork to make sure the entire bowl had been thoroughly heated. Satisfied that it was warm, you picked up the bowl and carried it over to the Devil. 

“You can have a seat at the table if you want,” you offered, holding the bowl out to him.

You gestured your other hand to the small circular table just outside of your kitchen. The Devil accepted the bowl of pasta from you, looking somewhat over his shoulder where you'd gestured. 

“Thank you,” he replied. 

You watched as he twirled a handful of noodles onto his fork immediately, bringing it up to his mouth before he'd even began to make his way towards your table. It was obvious he was hungry with the way he'd shoveled the bite into his mouth–just like when he'd devoured that burrito–and that satisfied smile returned to your face. Even if you'd messed up a lot of things this week, at least you'd managed to do something helpful for him. And that felt good.

You'd been about to turn around and put away the container of leftovers still sitting out on your counter when you saw him suddenly freeze, his entire body tensing. Your own body froze as you watched him chew the bite of food so slowly, your stomach sinking to the floor.

“What?” you asked cautiously, feeling self-conscious and on the verge of tears again. Had you actually somehow messed this up, too? “Is it…not good? I mean I know I'm not the best cook or anything, but I thought I was decent at making spaghetti sauce. It's not that complicated.”

The Devil swallowed the bite of spaghetti, his body still stiff as he stood there. His hand had tightened around the fork in the bowl as he remained silent, which only had your nerves growing. The feeling of being a failure once again this week was suddenly bearing down heavily on you. Was there nothing you could do right this week?

“Look, if it doesn't taste any good you don't need to eat it,” you told him, taking a step closer and reaching for the bowl. “Apparently I just can't manage anything this week. Just one of those weeks I gu–”

“This tastes exactly like the spaghetti my dad used to make,” the Devil whispered in disbelief.

Your hand hovered in the air reaching out for the bowl, your mouth hanging open at what he'd told you. That certainly hadn't been the reaction you'd expected. 

“Wh–what?” you stammered out.

The Devil pointed at the bowl of pasta with the fork in his hand, something like amazement creeping into his voice as he focused on you. When he spoke again, you'd noticed that raspy, deep voice he always used had disappeared.

“The sauce,” he told you, his words gradually picking up speed as he spoke. “It tastes exactly like the spaghetti sauce my dad used to make when I was a kid. I–I haven't tasted anything quite so similar since he passed when I was young. The likeness is incredible.”

You could feel the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest at yet another little piece of the real man beneath the mask being revealed to you. Mouth opening and closing a few times, you quickly realized you didn't know how to respond. Was he going to run away on you now that he'd let another little personal detail slip? Especially considering it looked like he was also realizing what he'd just told you and was beginning to regret it.

“I'm–I'm sorry to hear about your father,” you managed out.

The Devil continued to stare at you over the bowl of spaghetti in his hands, his lips pressing together as his mouth began to twitch. It was as if he didn't quite know what to say himself, but the longer he remained quiet, his jaw grinding back and forth, the more fearful you became that he was going to bolt back out of your window for accidentally revealing more personal information about himself to you. 

Slowly you held up your hands in front of yourself like one might do to a scared animal, hoping not to scare him further. The Devil didn't move, but his jaw visibly tensed at the gesture. 

“Look, I'm not about to tell anyone that you come here sometimes,” you told him. “And I don't go digging around on the internet trying to find out who you really are with the vague information I have, mostly because I don't have that level of motivation, if I'm being honest.” You saw the corner of his lips twitch upwards at your comment and you cautiously lowered your hands back to your sides. “I just want to help. That's all,” you continued. “And personally I worry that if I scare you off, you'll end up out there starving and with kidney damage from constantly not drinking enough water while you're out parkouring around the city.”

“You're worried about my kidneys now?” he asked, amusement in his tone. 

You shrugged lamely, shooting him a small smile. “If I say yes will you sit down and eat that spaghetti and drink some more water?” you questioned back. “Instead of jumping out of my window like a terrified cat?”

Something like an amused snort came from him as he turned, making his way towards your little kitchen table. You relaxed when you realized he wasn't going to disappear on you.

“For the record,” the Devil told you, voice muffled around a large bite of spaghetti that he'd shoveled into his mouth, “I am not a stray cat.”

“Of course not,” you agreed, picking up the glass of water he'd already finished and set onto the counter. You brought it over to your sink and began to refill it for him. “Because a cat would know better than to keep running around and making a broken rib worse. And I'm not sure how partial they are to spaghetti,” you joked. 

At the bright sound of his laughter over the sound of the running faucet, you found yourself smiling. You'd certainly missed having him here, even if you knew you were going to miss him the moment he finished that bowl of spaghetti and jumped back over your fire escape. All you could really do was enjoy the next few minutes you had with him and hope that he returned another time. 

Though deep down you sort of found yourself hoping he was more like a stray cat than he let on, because at the very least, maybe the prospect of food and water would tempt him to appear again at your window sooner rather than later. 

And that thought was steadily giving you an idea.

[oathkeeperoxas]

TOP GUN / Icemav fic recs part 8

There have been a LOT of good icemav fics posted this year - please check out some of the ones below which I've particularly enjoyed!

Rec list 1 here

Rec list 2 here

Rec list 3 here

Rec list 4 here

Rec list 5 here

Rec list 6 here

Rec list 7 here

Easy By Your Side by @wordsonamission

Written for Top Gun Ace Week! Day One - Micro labels (demisexuality) - "Promise me you'll wait for me" Maverick invites Iceman to spend their leave together in a cottage on the coast. Ice accepts, but isn't sure how to handle the fact that he's starting to develop romantic feelings about Maverick. He's never seen any indication that Maverick is interested in him beyond friendship. As they bond over seafood and grocery shopping, Ice finds his feelings growing.

Ice telling Mav about his boundaries, and Mav letting Ice come to him on his own terms is so very sweet and good. I love how the author portrays the care and understanding they have for each other!!

Apoptosis by @flyingfightingfishy

When aviators cause problems, they're designated apop, assigned missions designed to be deadly. Sometimes it's a strike mission, sometimes they're protecting other assets that the navy wants to be sure come home. Mav has been designated apop almost since the beginning. Ice is flying a mission that the navy deems worthy of protection.

Oh my GOD the worldbuilding and character dynamics in this slap so hard, I love the set up and how both Ice and Mav are written. The author places them in this sidestepped world so perfectly it feels like the fic is far longer than it really is. Such a treat!

give me mercy no more by @eighteaseven

They’re both twice as old now as they were when they started this, as both of their joints can certainly attest. But these aches make Ice’s willingness to kneel for him all the more humbling.

🫠 well what can I even say. The author GETS Ice, and writes Ice and Mav being so very in love with each other and giving each other what they need!!! The fact that they're older and experienced and still want each other and want to please each other makes the rest of this fic even better, which really is saying something considering how good it already is.

the further on the edge, the hotter the intensity by StoriesofmyLife

Maverick wonders if it's always going to be like this--this burning want under his skin, the total awareness his body seems to have of Ice. The surge of want that always seems to grip him, even at the most inappropriate of times. He wonders if he's ever going to be able to be around Ice and function like a human being. Thankfully, Ice seems to have the same problem as Maverick. Or--Five times Maverick and Ice have sex in places they totally weren't planning to.

I really enjoy the character dynamics in this, not only between Ice and Mav but the other people who they're interacting with as well. The last few chapters are especially good!

the well traveled road to you by @icemav86

“You said we’re dating?” Maverick asks, eventually, incredulous, with no indication of whether or not he’s willing to help Ice. After Ice’s divorce, he tells a harmless white lie to get his kids off his back. Turns out it’s not that simple.

Saturn has such as way of putting Ice and Mav in situations that I utterly love - the writing is very good, and nails their characterisations perfectly!

magic in your fingertips (love is a wild thing) by @whatiwouldnotgive

Maverick’s never been good at saying. At the talking about things. He always prefers action to words. Carole laughed about it when he offered to fix up her junker of a pick up truck with fondness in her eyes, and Goose never mentions it at all. Just smiles at him whenever Mav brings home his favorite dinner, or lets Mav pick out the movie they watch for the night. Ice is somehow worse.

I love the banter here, between Ice and Mav but also when Goose and Slider make their appearances. The summer romance vibes here are immaculate honestly, the get together is just soooo perfect. Melting the iceman's heart indeed!!

Don’t Read the Last Page (But I Stay) by @rabbit-factory

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell,” Ice drawled, disdain rich in his voice. “The day you become in charge of my promotions I’ll do whatever idiotic tasks you’d like me to do with a smile. But until then.” “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Maverick leered, and actually managed to startle a laugh out of Ice. It warmed him, with sense of nearly possessive joy, that he was the one who got to tease this man, pull the laughter out of him when he was most frustrated. That was his to do, his responsibility, and no one else’s. *** A look at Ice and Maverick’s relationship, over ten holidays.

So sweet and good!! I love the reunion here, and how Ice and Mav play off each other over the years as their relationship develops and grows <3

face on a lover with a fire in his heart by @enthyrea

Stepping up on his toes, Maverick throws the scarf around the back of Ice’s neck, wrapping it snugly around and making sure the ends are even on both sides of Ice’s chest. Mav’s hands briefly brush over Ice’s jawline, and they’re so warm it makes him dizzy. To make matters worse, Maverick then shucks off his bomber jacket, throwing it over Ice’s shoulders and bringing it close to his chest. The inside of the jacket is toasty, and it smells like Mav. “Are you sure?” Is all Ice can say. Mav smiles up at him, the snow decorating his dark hair like glitter. “Of course. It looks good on you anyways.” He says, with an indecipherable wink. AKA, Ice and Mav get caught in a blizzard on their way to Slider's for Christmas. Ice tries to deal with his feelings for Mav while trying not to freeze to death.

So cute and good and warm - the perfect winter tale. And there's even art!!

feel my body rock (every time you call my name) by @iceman-maverick

Maverick’s got that look on his face now. The one that sets off every alarm in Ice’s mind. But there’s no tower to buzz here, it’s just Ice and Maverick and everything between them. “It does feel better.” Mav smirks at him, “You know, the omega way,” “How could you possibly know that?” Ice snaps. He feels a familiar pressure building between his thighs and absolutely the fuck not. Ice abruptly turns to walk the other way back towards the mess. Fuck it, he’ll take the scenic route before he lets Maverick scent him like this. “Rave reviews,” Maverick laughs - not unkindly though, it’s always warmth coming from Maverick these days -  as Ice tries to escape with what little dignity he has left. Fucking alphas.

Biting and chewing this one!! Ice self exploration with omega Ice! Worldbuilding and omegaverse in the Navy! Mav standing up for Ice, but also Ice standing up for himself!! Plus the flirting at the end, hmm so good

Any Change in Time by @icezansky

After the Enterprise, they came home and took up their posts at Top Gun, this time as instructors, and didn’t speak of it again. They spent their days in the classroom or in the air, and their evenings side by side at the O Club or on one another’s couch. And then Viper introduced Tom to his daughter, Sarah, and she was kind and lovely with a spitfire attitude that reminded him of someone else. She took up his evenings, then – double dates with other officers and their girlfriends, and quiet nights in where she cooked him dinner and they talked for hours. He proposed to her after two months of dating, and she said yes. Now, six months later, she’s going to meet him at the end of the aisle.

The pining in this is so rich and layered, I love the way that Ice and Mav have to learn to circle around each other and decide what they really want in life before they reach out and take it.

Delicates by @topgunreacts

In which Maverick sneaks into Ice's room for some late-night ass, and discovers he doesn't mind getting overheard.

Such a set up!! Ice and Mav in this are just so very into each other, and very much uncaring of who knows it. I love that for them honestly. Yeah boys, get that ass!!

[pepperonijem]

II. the song's about to start (can you feel it?) || to.you

"... I'm about to fall for you."

summary: Creative constipation. That's what Levi calls the feeling he gets when he realizes he wants to write about how he feels about you. What does he feel about you? That's... inconclusive, he thinks. pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader content: alcohol consumption, levi is a bumbling mess of feelings, cursing songs mentioned: partners in crime - finneas, (only) about love -grentperez, buzz - niki || the title of this chapter comes from the song buzz

A/N: I've never written anything that made me blush and twirl my hair the way this chapter did. why am I the one catching feelings rn. should I post the playlist?

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter

Hange Zoe is the worst person to have in the car when all you want to do is think.

The thought popped into Levi’s mind as he swatted at a wandering hand reaching for the volume dial on his dashboard. A groan sounded from beside him and Levi rolled his eyes in return. Hange was a regular in the front seat of his car, and to his dismay, felt much too comfortable touching everything they could on the dashboard. Their chair was leaned back absurdly far and the vents on the air conditioning seemed pointed in every which direction. 

“Levi, I like this song,” they huffed as they reached forward to mess with the volume again. With a sigh Levi gave in and looked forward to the drive home in silence.

He tapped his fingers against the wheel as Hange sang along. Croaked, more like. Hange had a melodic singing voice, but that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone hearing them right now. But Levi was used to this, and although he pretended to be annoyed by it, he really didn’t mind. He liked this song too and he hummed along, quiet enough that Hange wouldn’t notice.

“You couldn’t look any more like a lover Or a partner in crime Or something of mine”

The song ended and Hange reached over to turn the volume down. Levi was thankful, but realized if the radio volume went down, Hange’s would have an inverse effect. They looked over at Levi whose eyes were trained on the dark and empty 3 a.m. freeway ahead of him.

“You know,” Hange began with a smirk in their voice and Levi tensed, steeling himself for whatever nonsense would escape his friend’s lips. “Miche said he saw you dragging Eren’s friend upstairs earlier.” Levi’s hands grew tighter on the wheel and Hange didn’t miss the flush of red that appeared on his cheeks as Levi remembered the brief feeling of your skin on his. Hange’s laugh is grating, Levi thought.

He chose not to say anything. A mistake, really, as now Hange had found an opportunity to fill in the blanks on their own.

“Mr. Ackerman, I never took you for the frat-party quickie type,” Hange continued, laughing to themselves. “Especially not with people you write songs about.”

“Shut up,” Levi huffed. “It wasn’t a quickie, I was–”

“Oh so you took your time,” Hange cut him off with a playful slap to his shoulder. Somehow he felt his face heat up some more. Thankfully, they weren’t too far from Hange’s home.

“We were looking for those two other brats that hang around Eren,” Levi tried to speak up over the sound of his friend’s guffaws.

“I’m just teasing, you grump,” Hange finally relented. They waited a beat before continuing. “But that new song of yours was definitely about them right?”

Levi thought for a second before answering, even though he knew Hange already knew what he’d say. He simply nodded in response.

“Knew it,” They spoke again. The teasing lilt in their voice was replaced by something softer. “It’s been a while since you’ve written anything new. It felt new.” 

“What do you mean?” Levi asked curiously. He’d always had a particular style when it came to writing songs, and Hange had known him long enough to see it become what it was. He didn’t particularly intend to write anything different, he just… wrote as he always did.

Hange leaned against the window, thinking to themself. “I’m not really sure myself,” they finally answered after a beat. “It just felt more like you, I guess.” 

The last time Levi wrote a new song was when Erwin was still part of their band. 

Last spring, right as the trees were beginning to turn into various shades of light pinks and pastels, Erwin asked them all to stay after practice to talk. It was an unusual rehearsal from the start, and Erwin seemed nervous much unlike his usual calm and collected self. His blonde hair was ever so slightly disheveled and he wore sweatpants instead of his nicer trousers that he usually wore to save time before heading to his office internship after practice.

Erwin clumsily missed notes that he had never missed before, and Levi was more shocked than anyone else to see the founder of their band fumble around like he’d never held a bass before. So when it came time for them to talk, Levi was intrigued and surprised again when he finally spoke.

“I’m getting married,” Erwin blurted out without his usual level of tact.

“You’re–”

“What–”

“Married–”

Hange, Miche, and Levi all spoke at once and Erwin let out a sigh of relief that melted into a soft laugh, as if a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

“Married?” Levi asked again.

Erwin nodded with a sheepish smile before explaining. “You’ve all met my girlfr— fiance before. We’re both graduating next semester. She got accepted to a music conservatory overseas and my internship offered me a position at their branch in the same city, it just feels like the stars were aligning. It all feels like a sign.” In the many years he’d made music with Erwin, learned his cues and learned his melodies, he saw that Erwin spoke with a twinkle in his eye that Levi had only ever seen when he spoke about his fiance.

“I’m sorry to announce I’m leaving the band like this,” Erwin continued. “But I’ll help you find a replacement before I leave. In fact, I already have someone in mind.”

That’s how they found Eren, a friend of Erwin’s fiance who played in the university orchestra with her. They watched his end of year recital and sat through his flawless performance of a cello concerto by Saint-Saëns.  It all happened rather quickly after that and without even auditioning, the passionate but impulsive brat had become their new bassist.

After going out for a round of drinks at the local pub to celebrate Erwin’s news, Levi found himself outside on the patio, resting his elbows against the railing and thinking about all of this until a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Levi,” Erwin called as he moved to stand beside him. “What’s on your mind?”

He turned around to glance over at his friend. Erwin looked happier now, like he was constantly basking in the glow of something bright, and Levi supposed that in a way, he was. “What does it feel like?” Levi asked vaguely, but Erwin knew, as he usually did.

“It’s… hard to explain,” Erwin replied. Levi looked at him and waited for him to continue. “At first, it felt like… well you know, right before a show when we first turn on the amps? There’s a buzz, but it feels electric. It’s a little bit like that, anticipation because you know something good is about to happen.” Levi nodded thoughtfully at Erwin’s response as he continued. “Now it feels so big… like exploring space, if space was safe and warm.” 

After a slight chuckle, a wave of silence washed over the two of them until Erwin spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?” Erwin glanced over at his friend.

“I will be,” Levi answered. “Will you?”

Erwin turned around to face the window and smiled to himself as he watched his fiance laugh at something Hange was saying. “I think so,” he said quietly. “But I’m happy to be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Levi agreed. “Me too.”

When Levi came home to his apartment that night, he reached for his guitar. He strummed quietly as he felt the familiar wash of inspiration take over him. A soft melody seemed to untangle itself into something that made sense in his head and soon, lyrics came along with it.

“Take my hand and come with me to another place We can walk around the universe tonight.”

He hoped he understood what Erwin had told him. Love as a concept was simple enough to put into an analogy, but difficult to really get, but for his friend, he’d try. He sent Erwin off later that spring with the lyrics and sheet music folded neatly in an envelope, a gift from Levi to the happy couple and felt satisfied leaving it at that between the two of them. And so it was, until Erwin asked him to play it at his wedding six months later. It was his first time singing a song without the rest of the band, but it didn’t feel as scary as he imagined it to be. It was like having a conversation, or writing a letter to his best friend. To Erwin.

He hadn’t written a song since then, not until he met you. Hange was right and the realization had heat seeping into his cheeks.

“Something something Halloween party,” Hange recalled the lyrics to his song. “That line about living in a VHS was pretty cute, what did you say to them to make you think of that one?”

“Nothing,” Levi replied and that was an answer enough on its own.

“Oh Levi,” Hange cooed as they pulled their glasses to sit on top of their hair to find a more comfortable way to drift off for the last few minutes of the ride, content to let Levi have a reprieve from the teasing.

After dropping off a drunk Hange and driving the hour back to his apartment, he couldn’t decide whether to grab his notebook and pen or his guitar. This was a rather frustrating dilemma to have. Usually, he’d feel something akin to lightning and either a simple line or a melody would come to him and he’d grab whatever vessel he needed to bring it alive. 

The song he wrote about you two weeks ago began as lyrics first. He had watched you walk down the sidewalk in your pumpkin costume and groaned to himself as he realized half of your entire conversation was him saying, “cool.” He walked back into the party and through a sea of stupid costumes to find his guitar case and fished out the worn brown leather notebook that he always kept with him and grabbed a pen.

“I want to erase the things I said, but I’ll probably say them again. Wish I could hit rewind and not be so in my head.”

With a few tweaks and a chorus, it had become a song, and Levi was proud of himself. It wasn’t until after he had finally set his pen down and saw he’d written the words “I wouldn’t have let you go leave me,” that he wondered if he really felt that way or if it was just a good line.

At the next party, when you told him you liked the song, the song he wrote about you, he felt something else, and he wondered what to call the flutter he felt in his chest. Attraction, maybe? He learned about the feeling of attraction in class, how the spike in your heart rate and cortisol levels can be read as attraction in the right circumstances… or stress in the wrong ones. With his adrenaline running high after his performance, he decided that the evidence presented was too inconclusive to be labeled one way or another.

Now, he decided to grab his notebook to look back at the page he’d scribbled on, to see if something could give that final push for lightning to strike. He scoured the margins, looking through the various doodles and squiggles and crossed out words. It was incredibly frustrating, Levi thought, to have the desperate urge to write, but not know what to write. It’s probably because he still couldn’t figure out how he felt about you. Anxiety? Attraction? It was something new, but not something he knew how to explain. All he knew was that he wanted to write about you.

Nothing came to him even after flipping through his book, so with a sigh, he gave up and flopped onto his bed. His eyes fluttered shut and hoped inspiration would find him in his dreams.

The next morning, Levi woke up feeling unrested and uninspired. He was expecting to wake up with that familiar whisper of a new melody or a new lyric in his ear, but instead he woke up to the sound of thunder outside. He ran a frustrated hand down his face. Creative constipation, he thought to himself.

Then as he settled into his seat for his psych class, he found himself so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you call his name until you reached out and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder. The contact snapped his attention towards you and he felt a haze begin to clear.

“Levi?” you said his name with concern.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking,” he explained. “Did you need something?”

“I was going to ask if I could sit next to you,” you began before leaning in towards him and lowering your voice conspiratorially. He could smell your shampoo and the perfume you sprayed on this morning. He felt that flutter again. “Some rando took my seat beside Jean. I think they heard we were picking our partners for the project today.” You subtly gestured over to the girl in your usual seat who was staring intently at Jean who was staring intently at a Fortnite stream on his laptop.

Levi let out an amused chuckle before sliding his backpack off from the seat next to him and pulling it out for you to take. He watched you curiously as you sat down, trying to figure you out. Trying to figure out why he wanted to figure you out so desperately. He resisted the urge to look away when you smiled at him. All he could muster up to do was nod back and hope you didn’t notice him staring.

“So what is it that had you thinking so deeply,” you asked as you pulled your laptop out of your bag. Levi paused for a beat, wondering how to reply. He wasn’t particularly fond of letting people into his writing process. It felt too intimate. Even Hange and Miche had only ever looked into his notebook once and then decided it wasn’t worth being on the receiving end of Levi’s death glare (not to be confused with his usual resting neutral glare). For some reason, he felt as though you wouldn’t be too much of a threat to his creative process.

“I have to write about a feeling,” he began tentatively. “But I can’t really figure out what it is.”

“Oh is this for, like, an essay?” You asked. You tapped on your chin as you thought about what to say.

“Yeah, something like that.” “What’s the feeling?” you continued to ask. Levi found himself intrigued at your willingness to help him, but remembered how quickly you relent to offering your notes to Jean and Eren when they miss something. He figured it’s probably second nature for you.

“Honestly, I’m not too sure myself,” Levi answered, nervous that you’d see through his flimsy details. But this was the closest thing he could tell you without divulging his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure how much of a help you’d actually be. Songwriting, Levi recognized, was not something that everyone could do, but it was something he did well. He had a knack for being able to step into someone else’s shoes and write about their feelings. Like some sort of twisted empath, he could write a damn good love song without ever having been in love. He figured whatever higher being created him thought it would be funny to have such a stoic man only be able to express himself through a melody, like he was in some goddamn musical. 

The other members of his band had a bit of experience writing as well, but their styles were different from Levi’s. They had a special knack for writing songs that sounded like them. Hange’s songs were always more upbeat and catchy, good for parties, and a little quirky. Miche’s songs were much more focused on the rhythm and had fewer lyrics. Eren, although only having written a couple of songs so far, definitely had a more angsty, grungy vibe. It was only from Erwin’s leadership that they all learned to blend their styles into something cohesive.

Most people outside of the band assumed that the majority of songs were written by Hange or Miche or even Eren now that he was part of it. But surprisingly, Levi was the real lyrical mastermind behind No Name, although he never opts to correct anyone who thinks otherwise.

“Just write it down,” you replied as if it was the most simple answer. “Even if the feeling doesn’t have a name, you’ll get the point across.” When you looked over to see Levi eyeing you skeptically, you continued.

“Not all feelings have a name,” you went on. “Like the feeling when you’re about to turn a door handle into a surprise party you knew about, or like when you get the first cup of hot coffee for the season because it’s finally cold enough outside for it. It’s like you know it’s the start of something new, something good.” 

Levi could see warmth flashing in your eyes as he watched you list these feelings. It reminded him of Erwin’s words that night. Something about anticipation…

There it was. Lightning. His head shot up as you spoke and you turned to him with wide eyes. You watched as he reached for his notebook and began scribbling into his notebook. Before you could ask him more about it, the sound of the professor’s voice filled the room. Levi, however, did not lift his head.

“It’s the feeling of the first coffee run in autumn – can you feel it?”

The last part was a question  for himself.

Sure enough, today was the day project partners were being assigned and although Levi spent the majority of the class writing madly into his journal, his ears perked up at the announcement.

“Since you’re all adults and there’s over 60 of you in this class, it’s easier for everyone to just partner up with their current desk partner.” Levi turned and met your eyes and you both let out a sigh of relief. He was glad it was you.

He managed to set his pen down as the professor continued to explain the assignment. “This project is about relationships,” he announced as he walked down the aisle to hand papers out to the class. “For the rest of the semester, you’re going to be getting to know your partner and hopefully yourself, quite well. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can leave the class with a new friend.”

The both of you turned your heads at the sound of Eren groaning as he looked over at Jean. Jean looked wistfully at the girl who stole your seat – unfortunately, she was in a separate desk cluster. Levi was thankful that things worked out the way they did.

Levi watched you stifle a chuckle and pass him the worksheet. He scanned over the paper. It was mostly blank, save for a few sentences of instructions and two sections of items to note. 

Under the first section were three items: First impressions of your partner? Who do you think you are? How do you think others see you?

The second section simply stated: At the end of this project, reflect on your earlier impressions and see how they’ve changed. What’s changed about how you see your partner? How they see you? How you see yourself? What social theories or effects do you believe may have affected this change?

“You get out of this project what you put into it,” the professor stated. “The more time you spend with your partner, the more change you’ll see in any or all of the criteria. However, if you decide not to spend any time with them after the initial meeting, you still have some theories to write about.” He chuckled to himself as he scanned the students’ faces.

He continued on. “There’s no criteria for how much or how you spend time with your partner outside of being safe and respectful. But I suggest you do things together that mean something to you. Be intentional with the time you spend together.”

Levi’s previous feelings of relief had suddenly dissipated as quickly as they came. This was a rather intimate project, and although the questions seemed simple enough, being in this class for the semester taught him nothing was ever psychologically simple. He snuck a quick glance over at you, busy writing your name on the top of your paper and writing down quick reminders to yourself in the margins of your notebook where you had neatly organized your notes from class. Your cheeks were pink, and so were the tips of your ears. He was sure his were too.

He looked down at his own notebook, filled with nothing that could help him on an exam. But he had half a song written down. 

It wasn’t until the professor had dismissed the class and Levi was setting his things back in his bag that you finally turned up to look at him with your phone out towards him. “Before you head out, can I get your number?” you asked.

“Sure thing,” Levi reached out for your phone, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours in the process. There was that flutter again, but Levi was ready to chalk this one up to stress. Until he caught a glimpse of your tinted cheeks and suddenly he was at a loss once again. He focused back on the phone long enough to put his number in before handing it back to you, letting his fingers brush yours once again. For research purposes, he had said to himself. Results still inconclusive.

That afternoon, Levi sat at his desk with the worksheet in front of him. The first question seemed easy enough to answer. He didn’t need to think too hard before writing a response.

First impressions of your partner: 

He thought back to his first time seeing you in class. Did that even count? All he ever saw was the back of your head and the way you would raise your hands to rub at your temples at the end of class as you slid your notebook for Jean to take pictures of. He picked up his pen anyway. Begrudgingly kind, he wrote.

The first time he really saw you was that night at Eren’s party. You were quick to laugh at his jokes, and quicker to add on. And later, he watched as you danced with Jean, who Levi watched get shot down by a blonde girl who was clearly more interested in the girl with her, even in your stupid pumpkin costume that stood out like a sore thumb. There was something about you that drew people in, he realized. Charming, good friend, obnoxious.

He thought about when you finally left that evening to go study. Hard-working, warm.

The next questions were a lot more difficult to answer.

Who do you think you are?

“Annoyed, mostly,” he muttered aloud as he forced himself to try to think. Although he had a knack for writing about other people, he wasn’t a huge fan of introspection. A musician, he wrote simply. I’m good at what I do, and I do what I’m good at. Simple. Blunt. Clean. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, he thought.

How do you think others see you?

This was such a dumb question, Levi thought to himself. He never really cared about how other people saw him. Hange always said it was one of his charms, especially on stage, and he agreed. His Twitter DMs seemed to agree as well. But a question was a question, and he wasn’t going to hurt his stellar grade over a dumb question. Charismatic, quiet, intense, cold. 

He finally set his pen down and picked up his phone to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey Levi, are you free this evening?

Before Levi could feel confused at who the hell would be so bold as to message him like this, you quickly sent a follow up text with your name and Levi scoffed. He was amused. He saved your number before replying to you.

Levi: Sure Levi: Did you want to do something?

He didn’t wait long for a response as you quickly texted him an address and a time. The campus cafe, which thankfully was near his apartment, at 7 p.m. so he still had a few hours before he had to meet you. He pulled out his lyrics notebook and looked back at what he’d written during class. It felt like it was coming together and Levi felt content as he grabbed his acoustic and began to strum absentmindedly, trying to figure out what his words sounded like in a melody. It was something simple, but he was happy with it. Hange was right, this song felt like him.

For the first time in a long time, he was writing about himself.

When Levi walked into the cafe promptly at 7 p.m., he let out a soft sigh. The smell of pastries, cinnamon, and coffee wrapped around him like a comforting embrace and he took a moment to appreciate the smells of autumn. He scanned around the cafe and found you sitting at a booth by the window, staring out at the street. Now that October had passed, the jack-o-lanterns and skeletons had been replaced with the warm glow of fairy lights and other various holiday decor. As he walked towards you, he found himself catching his breath at the warm glow the lights left on your skin. Pretty, he thought to himself. When you finally turned your head and caught his eye, you smiled at him with a wave. As pretty as he thought you were looking away from him, it had nothing on the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him. 

“Hey Levi,” you greeted as he finally made it to your table. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck and slipped out from his coat, setting them both neatly beside him on the leather seat of the booth. “I went ahead and ordered a little bit before you got here. Figured you’d look forward to something warm to fight the cold.” You gestured at the cream colored mugs that sat on the table and Levi cautiously inspected the one in front of him. The steam still rose from its contents and the smell of Earl Grey tea made his shoulders relax. He wasn’t a coffee person.

“Thanks,” Levi replied softly. “How’d you uh, how’d you know I prefer tea?”

You blushed as you looked away. “I was a little nervous,” you began, your attention once again on the sights outside. “I texted Eren on the way here and asked what kind of drink you preferred.” 

Levi felt himself blush and was thankful that you weren’t looking directly at him. He scoffed before taking a sip of his tea. Seems like Eren pays attention. “Nervous, huh?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as teasing as it did.

You finally turned your attention back to him. “Yeah,” you chewed your lip. “This is kind of an intimate project. Did you see the questions? It felt like some sort of first date survey.”

He nearly choked on his next sip. You were right, and now that you had pointed it out, Levi couldn’t help but fixate on the idea. A first date, he repeated to himself. He hoped the mug hid his blush.

“We don’t have to think of it that way,” you quickly added. Levi let out a soft chuckle at your panic. “I mean, not that it would be terrible, but this is for class so I think we can keep it professional and then be friends, which I guess would not really be prof-” 

“You’re rambling,” Levi cut you off. He felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about all of this, but he also took note of how you said it wouldn’t be terrible for this to be a date. He let out a sigh and set his mug down. “There’s no pressure at all. We can spend as much or as little time together as you’re comfortable with, and how we spend that time doesn’t have to be anything in particular. We could study, talk, or just sit here in silence too, if you wanted.” He hoped of course, that he’d see you more often, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He knew people saw him as somewhat unapproachable. Even people who scream his name at performances seem to tense up and freeze when they see him on campus. He didn’t want you to be one of them.

To his credit, his words did seem to have an effect on you and he watched your shoulders begin to relax as you reached for your own mug to take a sip. “Thanks,” you began. “Sometimes I get too in my own head. But you’re right. No pressure.”

Glad that you were finally more relaxed, he let a beat of silence sit comfortably between the two of you. When he first met you at that party, you seemed a lot more sure of yourself, not that you seemed unconfident now, but more that you handled interactions with new people in a charming, easy way that he couldn’t. It made him relax knowing he wasn’t the only one who tends to overthink things. He made a mental note to write that down for his assignment later.

It was much easier to just talk after that. Levi felt he had finally redeemed himself after that night where all he could say was “cool.” He was a man of few words… but not that few.

You told Levi about how you’d met Eren, Armin, and Mikasa. How Armin had come up to you at recess in elementary school after you had just moved to town and asked about the book you were reading. He was the first to speak to you, and Mikasa was the first to drag you along to their adventures. Eren, who was your next door neighbor, had declared himself your older brother when he found out you didn’t have one. “Everyone should have a big brother,” he had decided at 9 years old.

Levi told you about the band, why it was called No Name in the first place. He had started the band in high school with his best friends and kept it going since they somehow ended up at the same university. Hange wanted to call themselves The Titans “because it’s funny. Because you’re short.” And when Levi pounced across the table, Miche suggested The Walls which Levi hated even more. It wasn’t until Erwin dragged him back to his seat on the couch of Erwin’s apartment that Erwin decided, “If we can’t decide on a name, then we go with No Name.” And that was that.

Levi had found himself smiling at the memory, and chuckled at how long ago that was. Now, somehow, he had become the leader of the band, filling in Erwin’s role as a singer and at times, a mediator.

It was easy to be nostalgic with you, but maybe it was the tea, or the fairy lights that set him up. It wasn’t until both your mugs were halfway empty after a refill that Levi remembered to ask. “So why a cafe?” he asked curiously. 

Your eyes lit up as you began to speak. “Oh, right,” you began. “Remember how we were talking earlier about feelings that don’t have a name and I mentioned the first coffee run in autumn?” Levi nodded. “Well, I finally had some time today, and I thought I’d invite you to join me so you could feel it firsthand.”

Now that it was November, it was well past Levi’s first run to the cafe. In fact, he’d been here at least twice a week since September.

“I know that it’s really late into the season,” you spoke again as if you knew what he was thinking. “And I’ve had plenty of coffee since September. But I’d just been so busy that I hadn’t had a chance to actually sit down inside a cafe and enjoy a cup of coffee.” You smiled as you looked down into your mug.

This is nice, Levi thought to himself. “So what are you feeling?” Levi probed as he recalled your words from earlier. Something new, something good. This was definitely that.

“Like life is about to fall into place.”

Later that evening, Levi found himself itching for his phone to text you.

It had only been an hour since the two of you parted ways after he walked you to your car, but he already found himself thinking about when he would see you again. You were easy to talk to but you didn’t mind when he only had a few words to say either. It felt easy. He hadn’t been on many first dates but he knew that none of them had him feeling this way afterwards.

Levi: Hey Levi: Are you free tomorrow? We can meet again if you want.

Tomorrow? My place??  Levi had sent the message before he could think too hard about it. He shoved his phone under his pillow and walked out to the kitchen of his apartment. He grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the island, running a hand down his face. He took a sip and began to pace back and forth.

“Like a phone toss when it's risky and you hit send.”

He ran to his desk, momentarily forgetting about the phone, and wrote down the line. And another one. And another one. Until finally, he had a song. He took a deep breath before reaching under his pillow for his phone.

Coffee Addict (psych): I’m not busy :) where do you want to meet?

He thought for a second before an idea popped into his head.

Levi: You know the music studies building? Meet me on the basement floor.

And so the next day he found himself sitting on the floor across from you in a cramped practice room with his hands clasped on his lap. He’s not really sure what had come over him last night after asking you to meet him, but he can’t say he regretted inviting you either. In fact, he woke up bright and early, feeling that flutter again as he thought of seeing you.

“This is cozy,” you joked as you looked around. The room really was cramped, and with a standing piano against one wall of the room, it made it feel even smaller. He wasn’t used to sharing this space with other people, but he didn’t really mind sharing it with you.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry it’s cramped, I know,” he acknowledged. “I just… I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” you asked. “What is it?”

Levi looked up at the piano before standing up and offering his hand out to you. A buzz in his fingertips. A flutter in his stomach. He sat down on the piano bench and patted the space beside him to his right. The bench was wide enough to fit both of you, but Levi didn’t miss the feeling of your leg pressed against his. Before he could overthink himself into a panic, he stretched his fingers over the keys and began to play.

“It’s the anticipation when the amps turn on Just cables and crackle. It’s the first flicker of the neon sign It’s the words stuck in your Adam’s apple.”

He glanced over at you before continuing on to the next verse. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, but you watched as his fingers moved across the keys.

“It’s a bumblebee on a blossom The first coffee shop run in autumn.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide as you recognized your own words.

“The song’s about to start, can you hear it? The door’s about to open, can you feel it? The flower’s about to fruit, can you see it? I’m about to fall for you.”

A buzz. A flutter. He knew what this was.

“About to fall for you.”

a/n: some more fun facts! This chapter was so fun to write. 1) Eren, who'd never admit it out loud, actually knows all his friends' go-to drinks. He often brings his bandmates drinks as apology for being late to practice 2) Armin is the biggest social butterfly of the group. He's just really kind and disarming. 3) I gave myself butterflies writing the scene where Levi is playing on the piano with you beside him.

[silly-of-the-str1ng]

Dream come True?

A/N: this is the first fic i've written in little over a year so feel free to lmk what you think with a comment or two! also some word/spelling errors, i made this while sick at 11pm 😭🙏

warning: none :3

word count: 1.1k

summary: your dream of going to Billie's show suddenly becomes a reality

part 2

------------------------<3----------------------------

You had been listening to Billie’s new album ‘HIT ME HARD AND SOFT’ ever since it had been released, over and over and over, and well you get the point.

And when you heard Billie was going on tour?- you nearly cried, well no- you did cry, a lot at that.. but as usual the universe wasn't on your side.

“No- No, No, No, NO!-” you practically screamed as you scrolled down to the New York shows, desperately refreshing the page as if the big bold letters “SOLD OUT” would disappear. You had never even had a chance to try and even go to any of her shows even once, you were pretty tight on money due to New york’s crazy prices for just about everything and the moment you had saved up enough money to buy a show ticket? of course you wouldn't be quick enough to get one or even try.

You slammed your head down on your mattress, whining pretty pathetically as your best friend, Amber awkwardly sat next to you, looking up from her phone where she was texting her boyfriend. She sighed softly and shook her head as she tilted down to meet your sad eyes, “all sold out already?”

“yes…” you grumbled, shoving your face into your comforter. “You should at least expect it somewhat, I mean she's Billie Eilish for goodness sake….” Amber hummed as she went back to messaging Lucas.

You sat up slightly, resting your chin on your palm, “I know!” you groaned as you rubbed at your eyes clean of your stupid tears, it felt so stupid to cry over someone who didn't know you at all and you'd never have the chance of meeting, but here you were-

“I just!- She coming to New York three times, Amber! THREE!! and every single show is sold out in under the first day it seems like!” you wailed as you shoved your face back into your blanket.

Amber sighed softly, setting down her phone and gently placing her hand on your back, rubbing soft circles over it- “You know, maybe it's for the best… I mean you'd probably explode if you even had a chance to see Billie in person-” Amber offered, making you scoff harshly.

You wanted nothing more, you'd sell your soul if you had to- or your car…

—-

That was a few weeks ago now, you were still mourning the loss of course but you still had to go to work- so here you were clocking in to your mom's bakery for the oh so convenient shift of 4AM… like anyone was actually up at this time but you had to start making the pastries for the day.

You kneaded at the dough, softly grunting as you rolled it out and cut the dough, shaping it into croissants and setting it on the tray. Though the soft ringing of the front entry door opening and closing caught your attention.

“Seriously…?” you sourly muttered to yourself, who the hell is up at 4:28 in the morning getting breakfast?!- you walked out from the back, sighing excessively as you spoke in a pretty harsh tone-

“Sorry if your here for any pastries you'll have to wait another two hours or so-” though when you met the eyes of the woman who walked in you were shocked-

Billie

fucking

Eilish.

“Oh, no worries- I can wait, I don't have to be anywhere today thankfully,” she shrugged confidently as she met your eyes, those bright blue eyes staring back into yours. You felt your face naturally go red from embarrassment.

You stood there awkwardly before letting out a forced chuckle, “I-I don't want to having to wait in here all by yourself while I make stuff- that'd be kind of rude considering your, well-”

“Billie Eilish?” she finished with a soft smile.

“...yeah…” you mumbled in an almost embarrassed way, well no- it WAS in an embarrassed way, 100 percent.

Though she just simply sat down in one of the booths, crossing her legs, “I may be a singer but that doesn't mean i'm not human enough to not really care-” she chuckled softly, making your heart jump.

“Right- sorry-” You quickly replied.

“I, take it you're a fan?” she asked, not prying but just genuinely looking to see what she was to you in a way. “Uh yeah!-” you awkwardly smiled, “I tried to get a ticket to any of the shows your having here but you know-” you died off at the end, rubbing the back of your neck with the hand that was still completely covered in flour.

“Oh- for real? Do you want one or something? I can just get you set up.” she offered, making you do a double take.

“A-Are you serious?-”

“Yeah, it's easy, I can get you up front too, if you want, I know that some people are sensitive to the bass.” she hummed, pulling out her phone to do god knows what. Then she met your eyes again, tilting her head to the side slightly as if you were just as regular as a friend to her. “So?”

You were star struck, you didn't even know what to say. On the more obvious hand, this was Billie Eilish offering you a completely free ticket to one of her shows, you had to yes. But on the more annoying hand that wanted to have some sort of confidence for some version- you wanted to say no.

“uhhh… i don't think so- I mean it's asking a lot from you really-”

“Nah it's fine, i'll just get you a VIP pass, just tell someone in security to go get me, I know they probably won't listen but if I hear about someone being annoying i'll assume it's probably you-” Billie chuckled.

“...u-uh- okay…”

There was an awkward silence, your shoes squeaking against the floor before Billie spoke up again, “on second thought- i'll just have someone come pick it up… You've got a nice place here but I'd rather not sit down in silence by myself today…” and this time you let out a small genuine laugh, “I hear you.”

Billie stood up and walked over to the counter where you stood behind, “Nice meeting you by the way, most fans I meet are kinda crazy about seeing me,” She chuckled. “Oh believe me i'm going crazy inside.” You scoffed, making her smile. “Well, I'm gonna dip, maybe see you round…?” she shrugged. “Yeah, maybe…” you repeated as she walked over to the front door and opened it. though she looked back- “oh I didn't catch your name.”

“oh- it's Y/N.”

“Y/N… Nice name,” Billie hummed before she walked out, the bell ringing softly of her exit. you stood there in silence before quickly picking up your phone and speed dialing Amber's number.

“Amber-HOLY SHIT YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED-”

[its-avalon-08]

Amoreeee!

i love ur works and i have a very specific reuqest in mind. this is too detailed so please feel free to ditch a few details because im aware its too much. this is a mv1 x senna!daughter one.

max is hard racing some driver and he gets angry and flustered and he crashes because he act irresponsibly. y/n's heart stops because the way the car rotated and hit the barrier refletced her late father's passing.

her breath stops, max is ok but gp IS ANGRY at him because that could have been easily avoided. max is not hurt at all.

he is still angry when he comes back into the motor home. and then y/n gives him a cold shoulder and doesnt speak to him.

this makes max angrier leading to a passive aggressive arguement. max says something which leads y/n to say "fine then, fuck off and die see if i care" max is shcoked and so is everyonbe else in the motorhome

when she rushes out in tears she bumps into carlos/charles/lando and he comforts her and she says "i never shouldve said that"

they make up, hapoy ending make it extra emotional.

LOVE UR WORKS!

i have to confess, i love this one the most out of everything i've ever written. its extra extra long, and the anon messaged me and asked me to add a few more things, so i have done the same! anon ily ! (edit - i messed up the translation! its been fixed now!!) enjoy reading <3

coração valente (mv1) (brave heart)

find the headcannon here!

The roar of the engine was a dull thrum in Y/N's ears as she watched the battle unfold on the screen. Max was locked in a fierce fight for position with Esteban Ocon. Every aggressive lunge, every desperate attempt to overtake sent a tremor of unease through her. It was too reminiscent, too close to the edge.

Then, disaster struck. Ocon made a late move, and Max, fueled by frustration and a competitive fire, reacted impulsively. He swerved to block him, the car losing traction as it took the corner too tightly. The world slowed down as Y/N watched in horror. The Red Bull spun, a sickening ballet of red and blue against the asphalt, before slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch.

Her breath hitched, a choked sob escaping her lips. The way the car crumpled, the dust cloud mirroring the crash that stole her father… the memory flooded back, vivid and terrifying. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo threatening to burst through her chest.

Thankfully, the medical team rushed to the scene, and the relief was almost a physical blow. Max emerged from the wreckage, shaken but unharmed. But the reprimand from Horner was swift and brutal. "Unnecessary risk, Verstappen! You could have avoided that entirely!"

By the time Max stormed back into the motorhome, his anger was a palpable presence. He tossed his helmet onto the couch, the thud echoing in the tense silence. Y/N sat by the window, her back to him, a cold, hard wall where warmth and concern usually resided.

"Great job out there," Max spat, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Another brilliant strategy by Horner, putting all the pressure on me."

Y/N remained silent. Her silence was a punishment, far worse than any raised voice. Max, already on edge, bristled.

"You gonna say something, genius?" he snapped. "Or are you just gonna sit there like a statue?" Y/N turned a deaf ear to that.

The air in the motorhome felt thick enough to chew on. Y/N sat at the table, meticulously organizing spare race parts, a pointed silence radiating from her. Max hovered by the coffee machine, his usual swagger dampened by a heavy frown.

Christian Horner, ever the mediator, attempted to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he boomed, "what are we learning from this little spin?"

Max, bristling at the reminder, mumbled a vague response about tire strategy. Y/N, without looking up, chimed in, "Perhaps a lesson in spatial awareness wouldn't go amiss."

The air crackled. Max whipped his head towards her, his jaw clenched. "Oh, and who's the expert on spatial awareness, Miss Never-Been-On-The-Track?"

Y/N slammed a wrench down a little too hard, the metallic clang echoing in the tense silence. "There's a difference between calculated risk and reckless driving," she retorted, her voice laced with ice.

Max scoffed. "Spoken like someone who's never felt the pressure of a championship on their shoulders."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "Pressure doesn't excuse stupidity, Max," she said, her voice clipped.

Horner cleared his throat, his booming voice a desperate attempt to break the ice. "Look, let's all take a moment to cool down. We can dissect the crash later. Right now, Max needs a clear head for the next race."

With that, Horner steered Max towards a debriefing session, leaving Y/N alone in the charged atmosphere. She picked up a stray bolt, turning it over in her hand, her knuckles white with repressed anger. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the workshop around her.

Just then, Charles walked in, his perceptive eyes catching the glint of tears on her cheeks. "Rough day?" he asked softly.

Y/N choked back a sob. "It's just… I don't know if I can watch him race anymore," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion.

Charles pulled up a chair beside her, his presence a silent comfort. "You know Max," he said gently. "He makes mistakes, but he learns from them."

Y/N shook her head. "This wasn't just a mistake, Charles. It was reckless. And it brought back…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Charles squeezed her shoulder in understanding. "The fear," he finished for her. "It's always there, isn't it?"

Y/N nodded, a tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. "I can't lose him too," she whispered, her voice cracking.

Charles offered a sad smile. "You won't," he assured her. "Max is stubborn, but he cares about you. He'll learn from this."

His words offered a glimmer of hope. Y/N knew Charles was right. But the fear, the raw terror that had gripped her during the crash, still lingered.

Max, a whirlwind of frustration earlier, had retreated into a sullen silence. Y/N, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, refused to acknowledge him directly. The tension crackled between them, a storm waiting to erupt.

Daniel Ricciardo, ever the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood. "So, Max," he said, a touch too cheerfully, "what are we having for dinner? Surely Y/N has whipped up some magic in the kitchen?"

Y/N's lips twitched, but she remained focused on her phone, pretending not to hear. Max, still fuming, mumbled a curt, "I don't care."

The forced joviality died a quick death. Charles, sensing the undercurrents, offered, "Actually, I wouldn't mind ordering some takeout. How about some Indian?"

Y/N finally looked up, her voice clipped. "No, thank you, Charles. I'm not particularly hungry."

Max scoffed. "Suit yourself. More for the rest of us, then."

The passive-aggressive jabs continued throughout the evening, each veiled comment a fresh barb. Y/N praised Charles's recent qualifying performance, a clear dig at Max's reckless driving. Max, in turn, bragged about a new training program he was starting, a not-so-subtle jab at Y/N's perceived lack of understanding.

"Honestly that race was mine, Ocon fucked it up for everyone," Max proclaimed.

"Maybe," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "if you hadn't been so busy playing daredevil, you wouldn't have thrown away the race."

The words hung heavy in the air. Max felt a flicker of something cold and sharp twist in his gut. "Playing daredevil?" he scoffed. "I was out there fighting for the win!"

"At what cost?" Y/N's voice cracked, the dam of her emotions threatening to burst. "Do you even understand the fear you put me through?"

Max, for the first time, saw a glimpse of the terror that mirrored his own reckless driving. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the words wouldn't come.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, in a moment of horrifying clarity, Max blurted out, "Look, if you can't handle the pressure, maybe you should just—"

The sentence died on his lips as he saw the blood drain from Y/N's face. She stared at him, her eyes filled with a hurt so profound it took his breath away.

"Fine then," she said, her voice a choked whisper. "fuck off and die. see if i care."

The words echoed in the stunned silence. Everyone in the motorhome froze, their eyes wide with shock. Even Max, fueled by anger, felt a cold dread settle in his stomach.

Y/N didn't wait for a response. Tears streaming down her face, she bolted out of the motorhome, the slam of the door a punctuation mark to the shattered silence.

Max stared after her, a tapestry of emotions swirling within him – anger, regret, a terror that mirrored her own. He lunged after her, but Charles, who had witnessed the exchange, caught him by the arm.

"Let her go," Charles said gently, his voice laced with concern. "She needs some space."

Max sank back onto the couch, his head in his hands. "What did I do?" he rasped, the anger replaced by a crushing weight of remorse.

The atmosphere was suffocating. Everyone, even the usually jovial mechanics, seemed to walk on eggshells around the warring couple. Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she walked, the weight of the fight, the fear, and the unspoken hurt threatening to overwhelm her. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

The cool night air did little to soothe the burning in Y/N's eyes. She wandered away from the motorhome complex, her legs numb and directionless. The roar of the track faded behind her, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves. Tears streamed down her face, carving clean tracks through the grime of the day.

Then, she saw it. Half-hidden behind a cluster of trees, a towering mural emerged from the darkness. It was a familiar image – her father, mid-corner, a determined glint in his eyes, the car a blur of yellow and green. A wave of emotions washed over her – grief, pride, and now, a searing anger.

Sinking down onto a nearby bench, Y/N found herself talking to the painted image. "Why didn't you tell me, Dad?" she choked out, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Why didn't you tell me how terrifying it would be to watch someone you love race?"

"Doesn't he understand, Dad? Doesn't he see the risk he takes? It's like he doesn't care! Doesn't care about the fear he puts me through, the terror that I relive every single time I see a car spin out of control!"

She slammed her fist against the concrete wall, a raw scream escaping her lips. The sound echoed in the quiet night, a testament to the storm raging within her. Tears streamed down her face, hot and angry.

"And then," she continued, her voice trembling, "he has the audacity to get mad at me? To act like I'm the one overreacting? Doesn't he see what his actions do? Doesn't he see what he almost took away from me today?"

Silence, except for the rustle of leaves in the night breeze. But in her mind, she could almost hear his voice, warm and reassuring. "coração valente (brave heart)," it seemed to say, the nickname he always used for her. "Fear is a part of it, but it doesn't have to control you."

Y/N wiped her eyes, a flicker of understanding replacing the anger. Her father hadn't raced because it was easy. He raced because of the passion, the thrill, the dance with danger. He wouldn't have wanted her to live in fear, but to find her own strength, her own way to navigate the world he left behind.

The sting in his eyes wasn't just from the acrid smoke billowing from a nearby barbecue. Max's chest ached with a dull ache that had nothing to do with the crash. Y/N's words, "fine then, fuck off and die. See if I care," echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his monumental screw-up.

He couldn't just sit there, stewing in his self-pity. He needed to find her, needed to apologize and explain the terrifying realization that had dawned on him during their tense silence.

Following a hunch, he made his way to the secluded corner where the mural of Ayrton Senna stood. In the dim glow of a single overhead light, he saw Y/N curled up with her back against the wall, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. A red mark marred her hand where it had connected with the concrete.

His heart lurched. He knelt down beside her, his voice barely a whisper. "Y/N?"

She flinched at the sound, whipping her tear-streaked face towards him. Her eyes, red and puffy, held a storm of emotions – hurt, anger, and something akin to pleading.

Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "I… I shouldn't have said what I said," he began, his voice thick with remorse. "My anger… it clouded everything. I didn't…" He broke off, his own voice cracking.

Tears spilled down Y/N's cheeks. "And I..." she started, her voice trembling. "I never should have said what I did. It was awful, unforgivable of me." Her voice choked on a sob. "I don't… I don't want to lose you, Max. Not like that."

With a choked cry, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. Max held her tight, the dam breaking inside him. He pressed kisses to her hair, each one a silent apology, a promise.

"I get it now, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand the fear. I see it reflected in your eyes every time I step onto the track. And I promise, I'll never do anything like that again. Not if it means putting you through that kind of pain."

They clung to each other, a tangle of limbs and broken sobs. The night air vibrated with the raw emotions they were finally releasing. Slowly, the sobs subsided into sniffles, leaving behind a fragile calm.

Max pulled back, wiping away a stray tear from Y/N's cheek with his thumb. "Let's go back," he said gently, his voice hoarse. "We can talk properly, sort things out."

Y/N nodded, her eyes searching his. "Together," she added, a shaky smile playing on her lips.

Max grinned back, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "Always," he promised. "Together, no matter what the track throws at us."

As they walked back hand-in-hand, the mural of Ayrton Senna seemed to watch over them, a silent guardian of their love, a love forged in fire, tested by fear, and ultimately strengthened by understanding and forgiveness. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with each other, they knew they could face anything.

[ghostofskywalker]

Favorite Patient

Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

Fictober 2024 Day 17 of 31

Words: 1,189

Summary: You're used to seeing Bucky Barnes in your office with minor cuts and bruises, so when Steve brings him in and tells you he may have a concussion, you jump to action right away. He acts a little more familiar with you while he's still out of it.

Note: i know i've already written this trope for fictober this year, but i don't care because i just love it so much

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

If it were heroic deeds and dangerous missions that led to Bucky Barnes’ almost-constant presence in the compound’s medical wing, you would understand. The job he (and every other Avenger) did was never going to be without its risks, and you supposed that was the whole reason you were there in the first place. You’ve patched up bullet wounds, reset broken limbs, and been ready for almost every emergency that the team has needed your assistance in.  

Even if Bucky’s definition of an emergency was sometimes skewed. 

“Doc, I need a bandaid.” 

“Hey Doc, where are the ice packs?” 

“Doc, can you do anything for a stubbed toe?” 

To his credit, he never asked you to drop what you were doing and take care of him, and he never asked you to do any work treating him when the only thing wrong was a minor scrape. However, if you were working in the medical wing, you could pretty much bet to see him at least once or twice a shift, and you were honestly beginning to wonder how he helped to save the world at all, given that he seemed to be a little bit of a klutz. 

This time though, Bucky Barnes was being rolled into the room on a stretcher, and you immediately jumped into action. “What happened?” you asked Steve after he had picked his friend up and placed him gently on one of the beds (to your admonishment, because you weren’t sure if that would make things worse or not). There wasn’t even a mission today (as far as you were aware), so you were a little lost on how things could have gotten to this point.

“He got knocked in the head with a baseball,” Steve responded. “ I’ll be shocked if he doesn’t have a concussion.” 

You turned to Bucky as she shifted in the bed, eyes fluttering open and closed as a soft groan left his mouth. “I’ll take a look at him,” you said, the duty-bound medic in your soul taking over almost immediately. 

Steve smiled. “Thanks. If you need anything, or he’s being a difficult patient, just let me know.” 

You nodded, and Steve was gone from the room moments later. You neglected to inform the super soldier that you didn’t think Bucky could ever be a difficult patient, and you certainly didn’t hint at the fact that he might be your favorite person in the compound. It was embarrassing, the way you had fallen so easily for the man laying in front of you, but there was nothing you could do about that now. 

Thankfully, you only had to wait a few moments for him to wake. “Heyyyyyy Doc,” Bucky said, his voice lower than it usually was. “‘M sorry to have to bother you.” 

“It’s okay Bucky, you don’t have to be sorry.” Your voice was quiet as you responded, not wanting to make what was certainly a pounding pain in his head any worse than it already was. “This is what I’m here for.” 

“Do I have a goose egg on my head?” he asked as you stepped closer to him, and you gently ran your hands over his forehead, hairline, and scalp to check for any bleeding, bruises, or bumps. 

He shivered when your fingertips first made contact, and you quickly pulled back. “Did that hurt?” you asked worriedly. 

Bucky looked slightly sheepish as he shook his head. “No, sorry.”  

Brushing off the confusion in your mind, you returned to the task at hand. Thankfully, it seemed like no lasting mark had been left by the ball, and you smiled as you moved back from him. “It doesn’t look like there’s any bump,” you said. “That’s a lucky feat.” 

Bucky smiled. You had known from the moment he started talking that his words were a product of the slight disorientation he was experiencing, but his next words certainly cemented that hypothesis. “Good,” he said. “I’m still pretty, right?” 

You froze. The answer to that question was a resounding yes, but should you actually be telling him the truth? He might not remember any of this once he’s a little more healed, but that wasn’t a guarantee. He was enhanced after all.

But was it worse to lie to him? Especially if he did indeed remember the conversation in the future. You quite liked your friendship the way it stood (even if you wished it was something more), and you didn’t want to put that in jeopardy if he believed that he was bothering you. 

“Yes Bucky, you’re very pretty,” the words came out before you could truly stop them, and you just had to hope this exchange would be forgotten or written off when he was in better control of his faculties. 

Maybe it was worth it though, because the smile that crossed his face when he registered your words was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. 

The cognitive testing proved what you already believed, that Bucky indeed had a concussion. Thankfully it seemed as though he was recovering quickly, but you decided to keep him in the medbay for an extra day or so, just to monitor his progress. Coincidentally, that also meant you had spent a lot of time with Bucky while you were checking up on him, and your feelings had only grown. He was smart, kind, and funny, even if you still didn’t understand how he was so prone to injury.

On the day that he was set to leave, he seemed to be completely recovered. “Are you excited to finally get out of here?” you asked. 

“I’m excited to sleep in my own bed again.”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to get new beds in here for about a month now, because everyone complains about them.” 

Bucky nodded. “With all of Stark’s money, I think we should invest in some softer mattresses.” 

You laughed. “Even if people would never want to leave after they’re injured.” 

“That’s already a problem I have,” Bucky said, and you didn’t quite register the meaning of his words before he continued speaking. “Listen, I know I was a lot to deal with when I first got the concussion.” 

“No, Bucky, don’t worry about it. That’s my job, after all.” 

“I mean it,” he continued. “I really want to thank you for everything you’ve done.” 

“That’s not-” 

“Please,” he said. “What about dinner, tomorrow night?” 

You weren’t sure if he ever had a good poker face, but right now that was not the case. He looked so hopeful, and you thought he might cry if you turned him down (not that you ever would). 

“I will continually say that it’s not necessary, but I’d love to,” you responded, a small smile crossing your face. 

Bucky’s smile grew as well. “Can I pick you up at 7?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” 

“Perfect,” he said. He had almost made it out the door before he turned back for another moment. “And by the way, I think you’re pretty too.” 

Now you’re definitely glad you didn’t lie to him when he was all loopy, because it had let to a date.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[httpiastri]

good girl – op81

oscar is so slow that it's frustrating.

genre: fluff, suggestive (not rlly smut but leading up to it)

pairing: reader x oscar piastri

warnings: foul language i guess ahahah. almost smutty

requested: yes

author's note: thanks for all the love recently. i've been on vacation with my family for the last few days so i haven't really had time to write. hope you enjoy this!! i've never written anything this filthy lmao so yeah i'm new to the smutty side. also this is consensual and protected because that shit is sexy af.

f1 masterlist

18+ below the cut, minors dni!

you'd always seen it on tv, but you didn’t know how just embarrassing it would be to be caught making out with your boyfriend in the elevator – until it happened to you.

you and oscar manage to just part your lips when the elevator doors open, but you are still quite clearly clinging onto each other so it’s evident what you’d been doing. thankfully, you have no idea who the person entering the elevator is.

the rest of the elevator ride up to your apartment floor is awkward but thankfully short. it feels much longer, though, with oscar’s hand resting right above your butt, the teasing touches of his fingers making you wish you were in bed already.

once you finally close the door to your apartment, his lips crash onto yours again. your hands are all over each other, pulling the other as close as humanly possible. you don't usually feel this needy, but there's something special in your mood today. maybe it's the way oscar's been sending you those looks all evening. maybe it's the way his hand rose higher and higher on your thigh at dinner, stopping right below where you wanted him the most. maybe it's the way he kissed the side of your neck, not caring which of your friends saw.

and maybe that's why you feel extra annoyed once you actually make it into your bedroom.

he’s inexplicably slow undressing you both. at first, he's fidgeting with the seemingly stuck zipper of his own pants. and then he pretends he has problems taking off your bra – as if you don’t know he’s opened the clasp of this exact bra of yours about a million times already.

being with oscar was always the same way; so soft, so sweet.

so lustful.

he wasn’t often this teasing, though. intimacy between you two didn’t have to be rushed, it was quite often slow and sensual. but this time, it’s clear to you that his actions are purely meant to frustrate you and he's happy to see that it's working.

eventually, he’s crossed the line. it’s when he pretends to fiddle around in your bedside drawer for a condom that you break. “just fuck me already, oscar.”

he looks over at you and grins. this state is exactly where he wanted you to be. squirming, longing, begging. “good girls say please.”

“god, you’re so annoying.”

to his complete amusement, you sit up and reach into the drawer yourself, getting the condom up in just a millisecond. it was right there in plain sight, as you knew it would be.

you hold it up to your mouth, ripping apart the wrapper with your teeth before holding it up to your boyfriend. “can you put it on by yourself or do you need me to do that for you too?”

“you know the condom can break when you rip the packaging with your teeth.”

“i honestly couldn’t care less right now.”

he pauses, and then; “you’re wonderful.”

oscar’s grin is contagious, even though you’re so set on being irritated at him. your free hand reaches behind his neck, pulling him forward to lace his smile onto yours. the kiss is slow and sloppy but so so sensual, and you feel yourself getting even more turned on when his hand cups your cheek, pushing his lips even harder on yours.

oscar takes the condom from your hand, pulling away from you for just a moment to put it on himself. then he helps you lie down against your pillows again. his hands reach down to take your wrists in them and he pulls your arms above your head, holding your wrists together with his soft, delicate fingers.

"are you okay? is this okay?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any slightest hint of uncertainty.

he finds none and when you nod and smile, he leans down to kiss you once again.

"you're so good to me, baby. will you be a good girl and take me in? all of me?"

and you nod, because there's nothing you'd rather do than let him have his way with you.

[manicpixiefelix]

they stare at me (and i stare at you) {Felix Catton/Reader}

one. i saw you kept your gaze controlled

Summary: It's Orientation Week at Oxford and Felix is excited to experience everything university life has to offer him. Mostly socially. Almost all of his peers, thankfully, seem to be on the same wavelength as him, except you. Fine, if you wanted to take yourself too seriously, you could do it far away from him, he thinks. At least, that's what he thinks at first.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. Reader is the Acting CEO of their family's International Media and Telecommunications Empire. There will be smut in future chapters (see masterpost for more details/warnings). You & Felix are both 19.

This is technically an AU of my long running fic head, heart, hand. but can be read 100% on its own. No prior information from that fic is necessary going into this at all.

{ masterpost }

A/N: 1787 words. Hi! Excited to finally be publishing the first part of this!! Updates will be slow, but I've already got about 20k written from all around the timeline so I just need to piece everything together. This takes place in Felix's first year of Uni so this fic won't feature Oliver. If you like it, or have thoughts about it, I'd love to hear from you!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

There's a novel charm, Felix considers, about moving into the Oxford dormitories, even if the hallowed halls echo his own home more than most other students.

During orientation, he makes friends easily, all warm smiles and sincere laughter; people have always flocked to Felix. Part of it is his natural charm, but he's never been above exploiting his looks while putting his best foot forward in situations like these. His outfits are always on trend and on brand, and he spends longer in the mirror than he'd ever admit to another living soul.

It was a breeze to make friends of his peers, the people in his course - business, at his parents suggestion - the people in his dorm, anyone he really came across who felt like giving him the time of day. Everything always seemed to reinforce what he already knew; Felix Catton was a born people-person, there was nothing that could shake his confidence in that fact. Well there wasn't anything, until he met you.

In all honesty, Felix's first impression of you was that you were strangely familiar, but ultimately rather dull.

During that orientation week, he'd gotten himself to all of the introductory workshops to his course that the University had set up for students to meet their classmates and get an overview of their degrees. At every single one, you were there, hanging back, rather quiet, seeming preferring to observe the rest of your peers unless your input was specifically called for. Again, your name rang a bell to him, but you were a non-event otherwise as he focused on getting to know the people who seemed far more eager to engage. At best, you were simply a standoffish prick at the back of the room who always felt the need to wear fucking business casual to decidedly casual casual workshops.

Once, he overhears a guy he thinks is named Benji asking if he'd seen you at the club that night. Though your smile is barely a smile, more a suggestion of amusement rather than anything else, your tone is sharp and bright.

"Of course I'll be there."

"Looking forward to it," Benji grins, before heading off in the opposite direction. Felix realises he's been caught eavesdropping when your gaze meets his. He's not quite sure how to react, not to the conversation he'd overheard, nor to the curious look you're now giving him. Instead of calling him out, or even saying anything at all, you nod to him once, and take off in the direction of the dining hall.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Felix finds himself at the club that had been catering to the first years every night this week so far. He drinks, he has a good time, and he ends up going home with a pretty girl studying Chemistry, but he didn't recognise anyone there to be you.

More and more he starts seeing you around campus, or maybe it just feels like that now that you've caught his attention. Did you always have people around you or did he not notice you amongst some of the people he'd started to befriend. Our maybe he hasn't reconsidered you because he'd never seen you properly smile like that before. Everywhere Felix saw you, you were amongst friends, sometimes even one or two of his. It was never opportune moments, however, he always seemed to be on his way to or from something. He felt like he never got the opportunity to properly meet you.

Until it's eleven o'clock on a Friday night, and he hears your voice coming from around the side of one of the dorms as he was on his way to celebrate the last day of orientation week with the rest of the first years.

"- yeah, no, I know it was Decker," you sounded annoyed, and when Felix investigates, he sees you leaning against the wall by the entrance to a dorm building, phone to your ear, smoking a cigarette. Except if he hadn't just heard your voice, he'd barely be able to tell it was you; why the hell would you choose to live your life in business casual when you could look this damn good? "Because Decker's been a pain in my ass ever since -" whoever was on the other end of your call cut you off and you sighed deeply, pinching your brow out of frustration, "yeah, I just need this pulled before it can get to print for Monday," you sighed. Stubbing your cigarette out on the wall, you ducked down to pick up a dark bottle that had been hidden in the bushes by your feet.

Felix doesn't know exactly why he keeps watching, but he's fascinated. He can't look away.

"I emailed you a bunch of ads for charities we could run in its place, pick one, stick it in, it's on me, it's my good deed for the day- no, tonight!" You insisted, scowling, before you took a sip of your drink, rebuffing whoever is protesting on the other end of the line, "I'd rather the page be fucking blank- because we're not printing a homophobic hit piece on Portia De Rossi a week after she comes out!" You argued, before you sighed deeply, adding, "or ever, fucking obviously." Then, frustrated, "of course Decker fucking okayed it, you saw the shit he wrote about Rosie O'Donnell back before I -" but again, you were cut off, "I told him to cut that shit out the moment-" you took another drink, furious, "no, first thing Monday I'm having words with him." There's a terse goodbye, and your phone clicks shut, and Felix suddenly feels like he's snapping out of a trance.

"Can I help you with something?" You snapped suddenly, seemingly to no-one. Felix feels his heart rate pick up nervously. It only spikes hire when your head turns to look at him. Your gaze is ice fucking cold. You take another drink.

"Is everything okay?" Felix hears himself asking. Your lips twisted into a humourless smile, and you reached into your pocket to pull out a pocketbook of cigarettes.

"Peachy," you say bitterly, "do you have a light? I usually wouldn't ask but these pants are stupidly tight and it's going to be a hassle to get my own."

"Downside to looking that good I guess," Felix steps forward, rummaging around in his jacket pocket to find his lighter. What he's said doesn't hit him until you're leaning in to light your cigarette from his offered fire, but it seems you hadn't quite heard him, to preoccupied with your thoughts, "are you on your way out tonight?" Felix tries again, and you take a long draft, thanking him quietly as your expression scrunched up with a thoughtful kind of irritation.

"Is getting absolutely pissed tonight the smartest move? Absolutely not," you huffed, jaw set in a firm line, "am I going to do it anyways? You fucking bet." Then, you turn to him, eyebrows raised, "what about you, Catton?"

Felix kind of feels like you'd just smacked him. What?

"How did you know -?"

"Heard your name a dozen times over the week, we're in the same course," you offered easily. This Felix knew, however the alarm bells in Felix's mind just started ringing louder. There was something about you now, something almost too casual about how you choose to look away, take another sip of your drink.

"Pretty sure they only asked for our first names," he frowns. There's something rather dreadful the way you look at him out of the corner of your eye, smile curling at the edges of your lips like you're pleased.

"Perceptive one, aren't you?" The tone of your voice makes him feel like he's won the world's worst prize. Pushing off of the wall, you make a start towards him, and the path off of campus. You shove your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket as you pass, "walk with me, Felix Catton," you called out to him as he watches you pass.

He thinks you might be a trickster spirit, attempting to steal his soul. Or maybe you're just going to kill him.

For some stupid reason, he still chooses to walk with you.

He really tries not to dwell on how unsettling it was that you seemed to know more about him than you let on. He's pretty sure he recognises you from somewhere, perhaps you'd recognised him too, and you'd simply remembered.

"You're Y/N," your last name, however, does not come to mind. You confirmed easily, offering him a cigarette. He doesn't need to prompt for your last name, thankfully; you offer it. Somehow, it still doesn't feel like an equal exchange. There's several minutes of silence, broken only by the gentle sound of gravel crunching beneath both your feet, and the occasional sip you take of your drink. Finally, Felix asks who Decker is.

"Twenty stone worth of bigotry shoved into the most weasly looking cunt you've ever seen in your life," you muttered darkly, though the wording shocks a laugh from Felix, and your anger softens at the sound, wearing a pleased little grin when you look over to him, "he knows I check everything, especially his shit since I don't trust him, don't know how he thought he could pull a fast one on me like that."

"What kind of work do you do?"

"It's just the family business," you shrugged off the question with ease, "I've been helping dad out with it for years, so he's asked me to take care of a few things while he's on holiday."

"Local paper?"

"What?"

"You were talking about something going to print on Monday, does your family run a local paper back home?" When Felix's question is met with silence, he looks to you. He wasn't expecting to see you looking suddenly uncomfortable.

"Something like that," was all you offered, evasively. There's another beat of silence before you seem to shrug off your discomfort, giving him a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, "our parents are friends," direct and to the point, "I used to see you at," you paused for a moment, deliberating, adding carefully, "parties." Eyes bright, there's still something careful beneath that in the way you're watching him. Parties, you say when he knows you meant events. The formal kind he fucking hated. Huh.

"That's where you got my name from," his relief, however, is short-lived when he sees the strange look you give him. But in the next minute it's gone, and you're looking out to the road ahead.

"Exactly."

For reasons Felix can't put into words, there's not a single part of him that believes you.