#this fucking account guy is getting on my last goddamn nerve

[asmolbirb]

.

[fearcvlt]

❝call me, beep me❞

pairing. sam winchester x fem!reader note. first fic on this account whaaaat. also my first time writing for spn... you guys don't understand how normal i am about this man. hope you enjoy! rbs/feedback is highly appreciated!! tags. nsfw, mdni. season one!sam. no use of y/n. improper use of dean's car. masturbation. phone sex. dirty talk. soft dom!sam. praise kink. needy sam. established relationship. 1.5k words.

Sam is losing his goddamn mind.

He isn’t used to being away from you for this long. The two of you had been living together for months when Dean showed up to the apartment just off campus, and even before you moved in together Sam had spent most of his free time in your dorm room. Sam had no intentions of following after his brother — he was perfectly content here at Stanford. With you.

But then Dean had mentioned their dad, and he could hardly refuse. He thought it would be a quick job. He had every intention of making it back to college for his interview, but he missed it. This is exactly what he came to Stanford to get away from — the constant nights on the road. Moving city to city hunting monsters. The shitty motel rooms.

He’d found an escape with you. A refuge. Without it, he felt like he was going crazy. He’d give anything just to be able to be close to you again. To kiss you and feel your body against his. Sam misses you. Probably to an unhealthy extent. He spends most nights thinking about you, calling you or shooting a text whenever he has the spare time.

It isn’t enough. Being stuck rooming with Dean again is starting to grate on Sam’s nerves. He’s pent up and frustrated, and it’s starting to affect his concentration. If he ends up dying on a hunt because he hasn’t been able to jack off, he thinks the embarrassment will resurrect him just so he can die all over again.

Basically, what he’s trying to say is it isn’t exactly his proudest moment as he waits for Dean to fall asleep before stealing the keys to his Impala. His brother would absolutely kill him if he knew what he was about to do to his baby, but Sam can’t say he particularly cares at this moment.

The cold, late night air bites at his skin as he sneaks out of the motel room, unlocking the car before settling in the passenger seat. His eyes nervously examine the parking lot three times over to make sure no one’s around before he shuts the door, dialling your number. He bites anxiously at his fingernails as he listens to the phone ring out, a shaky exhale leaving him when you finally answer.

“Hey, baby. Sorry it’s late. I didn’t wake you, right?” Sam breathes down the receiver, letting his head fall back against the leather seat.

“Mhm, yeah. S’okay.” You respond sleepily, a soft yawn reaching his ears. He can’t help but smile at the sound. God, he misses you so bad it hurts.

“Sorry, honey, sorry. I just missed you, y’know. Needed to hear you.” He murmurs, his hand sliding down his torso slowly before he reaches the front of his jeans. He gives his half-hard cock a squeeze. God, he was already so needy just from thinking about you in the motel room. He supposes he should feel guilty for waking you just to get off, but with the way his blood is rushing from his head downwards, he can hardly think at all.

“Yeah, well. I miss you, too. You were meant to be back last week.” You huff. Fuck Sam can practically hear the pout in your voice. Imagining your lips is really not helping. His dick twitches uselessly against his pants, and he’s unable to suppress the soft whine that builds in his throat.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Gonna be coming back to you as soon as everything gets wrapped up here. I promise, baby.” He lets out a shaky sigh, lashes fluttering as he props his phone between his shoulder and his cheek. “Can you do something for me?”

“Yeah, ‘course. What’s up?”

“Been thinking about you non-stop, sweet girl. ‘M so hard for you,” Sam hears the sharp intake of breath you take in from his words, which is enough incentive for him to continue. He manages to fumble with his jeans enough to get them unzipped and halfway down his thighs along with his boxers, one hand palming his aching cock as his free hand comes up to hold his phone again. “Want you to touch yourself, baby. Gotta hear you.”

“Sammy,” you breathe, voice low and airy as it reaches his ears. Fuck, he usually hates it when people call him that, but he’s convinced its going to be replaying in his mind on a loop for the foreseeable future. There’s a shuffling of fabric down the line, and then a shaky moan as he assumes your hand slides between your thighs.

“That’s it, good girl.” Sam purrs, long fingers wrapping around his length as a soft groan spills past his lips. His hips twitch, rocking desperately into the tight grip as he starts to stroke himself slowly. “Come on, baby. Talk to me. How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you reply instantly, the slick sounds of your fingers delving into your cunt barely audible in the background. Fuck, he wishes he was there. He can imagine you laid out all pretty for him on the bed, legs spread with your pretty pussy bared for him. He’s going to ruin you when he sees you next. “Feels so good, baby.”

“Mhm, sounds like it.” He murmurs, his thumb swirling over his tip to spread the steadily leaking pre-cum, slicking him up with each shallow pump of his fist. “Bet it’d be even better with me there, huh? I’d make you feel so fucking good, honey. I’d lick you out until you were begging for me… fuuuck, you’d make the prettiest sounds.”

Sam moans, face scrunching up with pleasure as he fucks into his fist faster, tightening his grip around his cock. “Eat that sweet little cunt out until you creamed all over my tongue, get you nice ‘n ready for me. Would you like that, baby?”

“Yeah. Fuck, oh my God. Yeah, Sam.”

“Yeah? Fuck, baby. Gonna come back to you soon, promise.” He says with a shaky gasp, pumping his hand steadily until he’s dripping pre-cum like a faucet. He can’t remember the last time he was this needy. “Gonna press you into the mattress, fuck into you so deep you feel it for weeks. Won’t even let you forget how I feel when I’m halfway across the city; gonna mould that pretty pussy into the shape of my dick so all you can think about is me.”

Sam doesn’t even know where the words are coming from. He’s all but whimpering into the phone as his orgasm draws near, the muscles of his abdomen pulled taut as his hips rut desperately into his tight grip. The sounds of your soft whines and moans from the phone speaker are driving him crazy, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist filling the car. 

“Cum for me, baby. Please. Need to hear it.” He gasps out, thighs twitching and tensing uncontrollably as he attempts to hold on. He hears a sharp grasp from the other side of the phone, then a low, obscene moan of his name. The sound of you reaching your peak has him spilling over his hand, a ragged gasp escaping him as he continues to rock his hips through the aftershocks.

“Fuck.” He chokes out, slumping against the seat as his grip around his cock loosens. He lets his hand fall to his thigh, cringing briefly at the feeling of his cum staining his skin. He listens to your heavy breaths for a moment, swallowing as he tries to collect his thoughts.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Sam says softly, absentmindedly wiping the mess coating his hands on the fabric of his jeans. Cleaning that would be a problem for future Sam.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘m good.” You reply shakily, and he smiles at the confirmation.

“Good. That’s… good.” He hums softly, letting his eyes shut momentarily. “Meant it, baby. Gonna come see you soon, no matter how this… Dad thing goes.”

“You better.” Comes your soft reply, and Sam can;t help the breathless little laugh that escapes him.

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll be back soon.” He says gently, eyes flicking open again to glance out of the car window. “I should probably go back up to the room. Dean will probably kill me if he catches me like this in his car.”

It’s your turn to laugh, the sound sending a warm, pleasant flutter through Sam’s chest. “Alright. See you around, Sam. Love you.”

“Yeah, baby. Love you, too.” Sam disconnects the phone, quickly tucking himself back into his jeans. He sneaks back into the hotel room, collapsing on his bed with a soft groan. 

His eyes shut, and he finally gets a good night’s rest, thoughts of you lingering in his mind.

[haz3-daz3]

Here I'm then with a drifters request ^^. What about some fluffy Naoshi hc's? I need some fluff in my life right now haha (tell me if it's too vague!)

I did it. idk if this counts as fluff however :/

I hope it's enough though!

lots of swearing because hey it's not a Naoshi fic without the swearing

Naoshi Kanno x F!Reader Fluff Headcanons (SFW)

So being stuck in the woods where a bunch dogs and cats walking on two feet referring to you as some weird-ass “Sky God” or whatever the shit they decide to label you as definitely going to grate on a guy’s nerves. Especially if your name is Naoshi Kanno.

Why in the hell is he even here? The man remembers seeing the blue sea fuckin’ plummeting into it in high speed and suddenly he’s in somewhere else where dragons and shit are hogging the sky who then burn a bunch of people to a crisp. Which Naoshi took care of because fuck that shit messing up with his head.

And now he’s in said woods, or jungle, he can’t fucking tell all he knows is that it’s hot as summer dog shit. Which wouldn’t surprise there’s way too many dogs in this place. And not to mention a goddamn Italian who can’t speak Japanese. Asshole.

So when you appeared all stupid with that dumb airheaded smile and speaking in his tongue he had to take a double take because what in the fuck, why the fuck was there some chick here??? Also what translation charms?? This world is too damn confusing he sometimes thinks he’s drunk too much and is dreaming at some bar or in the barracks drooling on the floor.

But ever since then, you’ve, for some reason, decided that you found him fun and have been following him around because…well fuck if he knows. This entire follow-Naoshi thing has been going on for some weeks now and…it’s not unpleasant. Not that he’ll ever admit that to you. Tch.

It’s not that Naoshi doesn’t know how to interact with women, he’s certainly asked his friends and comrades in the 343rd Air Group to send gals his way on account of him wanting to settle down after the war but you’re quite different from those more demure dames that he’s used to, huh? He finds it weird that he’s just accepted that he was kind of being pursued instead of being the pursuer. Not the kind of things a man thinks about while speeding through the air trying not to get killed before taking down everyone else with you but then again, Naoshi rarely thought too deeply besides where he’ll get his next meal, lay or drink. Or all of it.

In other words, Naoshi’s dumbly staring at you all unsure because for some reason you thought it’d be great to cut up those apples and peel mangoes you keep asking the Italian to help you get and feeding it to him because he was apparently being “too cranky”? He was pissed off because damn bugs keep getting stuck to his scarf and what the fuck keeps biting him?!

“The fuck do you mean cranky?! This hellhole’s got mosquitoes everywhe—“

That was the sound of you shutting Naoshi up by shoving a bunny-carved apple into his wide, spitballing, ranty mouth.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You said, snickering like it was supposed to mean something but really it just made him chew on his fruit more, enraged. But just as he was about to speak, you shoved more fruits into his mouth.

The entire afternoon was spent with you being your weird 2024 self asking shit about him and his life and…being interested. Which he won’t lie was refreshing, but he hated the fact that it left him feeling unsure since his previous flings would ask him shit too but never with that look in your eye.

Naoshi still can’t believe you’re from a hundred and so years after he was born. “Are all the women in your time this forward?” He snorted, willingly snagging a bite of the mango you’ve peeled for the nth time, he doesn’t know nor care. It just feels oddly nice sitting down under a tree and not think about whether he’ll be sent to a mission that might mean his last, whether he’ll even have the chance to say goodbye to friends and family.

But your reply threw him off balance more than the first time his Kawanishi N1K failed on him and he thought he was gonna die.

“Only to the men we like.”

…Huh.

“The fuck?” Naoshi muttered, his voice not that loud, belligerence-laced tone that it usually was as he looked at you and oh shit, that blush is cute.

You only smiled to yourself all coy and bashful and he doesn’t know how the fuck you manage that but he stayed frozen on the ground, mango juices staining the corner of his lips while he watched you walk away.

And then his brain finally caught up with what happened and he scrambled to his feet, sprinting after you, catching your wrist.

Pulling you to him, your body pressed against his chest as he decided “fuck it” and smashed his lips against yours.

Was it uncoordinated as shit? It was but that didn’t matter.

Not when you tilted your head and your hands went up under his aviator’s cap to grasp at his trimmed black strands.

[i-am-mldy]

Let me just get straight to the point since yall are getting on my last nerve:

Fire and Blood is a BIASED IN UNIVERSE HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE DANCE OF THE DRAGONS. COMPARING IT TO THE TV SHOW IS STUPID. "Oh Alicent/Daemon/Rhaenyra/everyone else is supposed to be like this cus in the book—" SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU'RE FUCKING ANNOYING

Daemon is an asshole and a sociopath, and yall are shocked he choked Rhaenyra out of frustration? The guy who mercilessly killed his 1st wife? The guy who lured his young niece to a brothel to ruin her reputation then bailed halfway? I'm sorry but nobody told you to put this guy on any moral high ground. He can love his family AND still be a toxic piece of shit

Aemond is all bravado and pent up childhood rage. He has never known real fucking battle. Of course he loses control of his dragon and accidentally kills someone! That's what happens when you give a teenager a seasoned sentient weapon of mass destruction!!! The way yall paint him as this merciless killer aren't getting the nuance this show wants to present! These kids were not MADE FOR WAR

Rhaenyra is weak for not attacking first? EVEN AEGON DIDN'T WANT WAR. NOBODY WANTED THE WAR THAT IS THE BOTTOMLINE. WAR WOULD RUIN EVERYTHING AND THEY ALL KNEW THAT. Yall are playing into the same damn pattern of misogyny when Daemon and all the other men in the room were so eager to question and negate Rhaenyra's every command

The show has genuine flaws but these are just so annoying to hear over and fucking over. The whole goddamn point of the show is that the Dance was fucking avoidable. If only Rhaenys was crowned instead of Viserys. If only Viserys didn't marry a child. If only he actually loved and cared for his children w/ Alicent. If only he stood firm and faced the internal conflicts brewing in the family head on. If only both sides didn't sow the seeds of animosity between their children. If only Otto didn't poison Alicent's mind with paranoia and a false sense of moral righteousness.

The Dance was avoidable. That's why it's a tragedy. Both sides genuinely believe in the justification of their actions. Everyone's mistakes built on each other until they were too big to fix.

[justfangirlthingies]

Caught my eye (Corpse Husband x reader)

Soulmate AU: In which everyone has one eye in their own eye colour and one in the colour of their soulmate. However, when you are close to meeting each other, your vision will change to the soulmate's one, letting you know you are close. When your eyes meet they will change their colour to their original eye colour.

Word count: 4189 words

Warnings: cursing because that is automatically given when writing about Corpse

Another Soulmate AU from my Wattpad account let's go!

Staring into the camera were a pair of, colourwise mismatched, eyes, one iris a deep brown and the other one a shimmering (e/c).

It was not unusual for someone to have two different eye colours in one set of eyes, it simply meant one had yet to find their significant other.

Pressing record on your camera you let your eyes stay right in front of the lens for a second before rolling backwards on your chair, your torso now in frame as well "Hello all of you beautiful individuals! I'm (y/yt/n) and as always I welcome you here!" You waved at your camera, a warm and welcoming smile gracing your lips. "In case this is your first time stumbling over this channel" you paused a second and giggled "Hi, welcome to this chaos!" Slowly you neared the camera again "Leave while you still can" you whisper shouted into your microphone.

"No hold on don't leave please! I was just kidding" You joked at your camera.

A happy sigh escaped your mouth as you leaned back in your chair "Today is q & a time isn't it?" You wiggled your eyebrows at the blinking light in front of you "Well let's get to it then...hmm...lemme see. Youtubetrash asks 'how old are you (Y/n)?' Do you always have to ask that question guys?" You scold playfully "I'm 19, but I really don't get why this is so important to you that I have to answer it in every video, like do you want to know the exact amount of days and minutes? Will you stop asking it every goddamn time then?" You chuckled as you ran a hand through your (h/l), (h/c) hair. "Right, next question! SusanIsAFish wants to know which eye colour my own is. I can easily answer that with either 'both are' or 'hell if I know' I've always had two eye colours like how am I supposed to know." A grin spread on your face as you continued to interact with your community's questions...

"Alright alright these are the last two questions guys. Nightmaresscareme...honestly same" you laughed as you read the users name out aloud. When you calmed down again you cleared your throat and continued "Ahem, anyways they wanna know if I found my soulmate already and who it is....Do I look like I found my soulmate?" You asked smiling as you approached the recording device once again and pointed a finger at each eye. "I have no Idea who it is but maybe you find whoever it is because all of you people are little Sherlock's I swear, you find out everything." Laughter erupted from your throat once again as you pointed at your camera.

"Last but not least, (y/n)stan asks 'when will you collab with Jack again? The two of you promised to make a video or something together?' Woah calm down, honestly I don't even think he remembers that, it was years ago. How do you even remember that (y/n)stan? I swear to god that's exactly what I meant with ya'll being Sherlock's." You wiggled your eyebrows again "But if you do remember, Seán and you magically happen to see this video. What happened to our collab plans dude?" You giggled "Alrighty guys that's it for today's video. Stay awesome my dudes, dudettes and in betweens and I'll see ya in the next one!" You winked and waved before stopping your recording and going straight to editing your video.

Just as you were about to upload your piece of work, your phone rang, scaring you in the process and causing you to delete your video. You groan in frustration holding your head in your palms.

"This better be important..." you mumbled to yourself as you went to check your phone. Seriously?! It was a Twitter notification. You sighed and ignored it for now, saving your video was a priority right now.

After hours of retrieving and re-editing your footage you finally uploaded the video to the worldwide known platform and picked up your phone to see what Twitter wanted from you.

As you opened the app you saw that it was a private message from none other than Jacksepticeye. What a freaking coincidence you thought, a smile now appearing on your face as you read the message. All your frustration was gone and instead replaced with confusion and laughter.  "What kind of message is that?" You muttered as you shook your head laughing.

Jacksepticeye:

Hey (Y/n) what colours are your eyes again?

(Y/T/N):

What kinda question is that? Lmao

Jacksepticeye:

Just answer my question dum dum :)

■

■

■

■

A raven haired male was on a discord call with his online friend that he had just revealed his face to. "Jack what are you doing now?" The young man laughed at his friend.

"Hold on, I'm texting someone."

The dark haired man sighed and waited "that's not very polite you know" he smiled.

"Pschh I'm finding your soulmate, what's impolite about that?" The Irish man looked up from his phone and back at his Computer screen. Only to start laughing at the other's reaction.

"Corpse? You good?" He kept on laughing at the dumbfounded expression on Corpse's face.

Who as a reaction turned off his camera, suddenly feeling very insecure towards his friend again.

"What do you mean?" His deep voice asked cautious.

"Don't worry man I'm not leaking your face or any info to anyone" he smiled reassuringly. "Your eyes just reminded me of someone else with the same or very similar ones. At least I hope I remember their eye colours correctly" He rambled on.

"Oh..." came from the other line, which was now more quiet than usual.

Seán noticed the change in his friend's behaviour and immediately stopped what he was doing. "I'm sorry Corpse..." the Irishman scratched bis neck awkwardly "I should've asked you first"

"I-it's fine. I just can't imagine anyone wanting to be my soulmate" the male sighed.

His friend flashed an encouraging smile at the screen "Dude! Anyone would be happy to be your soulmate. I know I would be! You are great, I know you probably don't believe me but I mean it bud. Besides, your soulmate is your other half, it's like they were made for you"

One could hear a sigh coming from the black screen as Corpse turned his camera back on, his pink tinted cheeks now showing up on screen as well. He had put his eye-patch on, leaving only his brown eye visible. "And you're really sure?" He asked quietly.

"100% sure! Anyone with half a brain would know how lovable you are" the blue eyed male grinned. "Besides, the person I'm thinking of also has a YouTube channel, I think I still owe them a collab, sooo I could maybe invite them to play some kind of-"

He cut himself off. "They answered!"

■

■

■

(Y/T/N):

Well they're like brown and (e/c), it's such a weird mix though.

Jacksepticeye:

Interesting.

Hey (Y/n), how about we do that collab? You could fly out and we meet up

(Y/T/N):

You still remember that? XD

Yeah sure I'd love that, I just had someone ask me about that collab today.

But seriously dude why are my eyes interesting to you all of a sudden? You found my soulmate or smth 🧐😂

Jacksepticeye:

😏😌🤭🤫

Right....

So when are you coming?

(Y/T/N):

Dude!

You literally just asked me if I even wanna come! Like come on, you think I've booked a flight already? Just like 10 minutes after you asked me to travel there?

Jacksepticeye:

As a matter of fact I don't just think so, I know it ;)

So when do I have the honors of picking your jet-lagged ass up at the airport?

(Y/T/N):

:(

...

This weekend

Time skip

A happy sigh escaped your lips as you felt the plane reaching the ground of its destination. You swiftly grabbed your bag and left the plane to get the rest of your luggage.

A yawn escaped your mouth as you grabbed your stuff, staying awake during the whole flight probably wasn't your best idea, but you couldn't help it. To you it was simply impossible to fall asleep on a journey by plane.

Your eyes skimmed the airport as you were searching for your friend.

After a few minutes of looking around you decided to sit down and wait, he was probably still on his way to the airport.

Just as you decided to open up your phone you got smacked in the face... With a balloon? "What the hell?" You whispered as you were pulled up from your seat and embraced. "(Y/N)! Hey! I haven't seen you in forever"

You looked up a little confused as you reciprocated the hug. "Well hello to you too Seán"

He chuckled and grabbed one of your bags before dragging you with him. "How can you be so motivated and energetic?" You giggled and tried to keep up with your Irish friend. "That (Y/n), is simply because I'm not sleep deprived like you"

■

■

■

Setting up his stream was a curly haired nervous mess. He was always nervous when he had to stream. But today was somehow worse.

The half Mexican ran his fingers through his hair. It was just a game with friends right? However, he had never played this game before.

His nerves getting to him caused Corpse to cancel the idea of a stream. "I'll just be there and play along, that's fine too. I don't need to stream every time I'm playing a game with my friends..." he muttered to himself.

With a bottle of water beside him he started the game and went through the tutorial. "Man this game is fucking cute" he laughed before joining the discord call, just to be engulfed in a complete chaos of voices.

"Hey Corpse is here! Hi hi!" A Swedish voice boomed through his headphones along with the rest of the group greeting him. "Hey guys" he replied as he joined their server in the game. "So what are we doing? Why is no one starti-" the deep voice started but was cut of by someone else.

■

■

■

"HOLY FUCKING- Who the hell was that?! Hello by the way" The whole call erupted in laughter at the reaction of the (h/c) haired individual.

"Uhh hi, that was me" Corpse answered laughing as he scratched his head nervously "and you also just answered my question for me thank you, whoever you are" Everyone laughed once again.

"Okay but seriously who are you?" Dave asked.

"Jack! You said you told em that I'd join" you huffed as you glanced At your friend next to you, you were sharing one discord account for this call as you sat right next to each other and didn't want the quality of the call to go down because of an echo. Both of you streamed online on twitch.

"Whoops! I thought I did" he chuckled once more as he introduced you to the party. "Well then..." he coughed in an attempt to clear his throat "Drum-roll please! this is (Y/n), they came to visit me this weekend. (Y/n), that's Dave, Felix, Joel, PJ and Corpse."

"Hi" you said suddenly a little nervous because you thought everyone knew you'd join.

Luckily no one seemed to mind that you were here as they greeted you. In fact, they seemed ecstatic to meet you.

"So have any of you not played this before?" Pewds asked the group. "Uh yeah, me" Yours and the deep voice said simultaneously. "But I did the tutorial" Corpse added. "Well I didn't" you laughed. "Great then we're all set, shame on you though (Y/n)!" Seán shouted.

"Jeez man, you told me to skip it and I can hear you! I'm right next to you and not deaf in case you didn't know" you sassed back, causing laughter to bounce through your headset once more.

"(Y/n) and Corpse you two haven't played before that means you count as one person for the group things cause both of you are noobs and if you count as one we have even team numbers" The swede joked.

■

■

■

"We're the Meowfia" Jack laughed, starting off with his puns for this game.

(Y/n) snorted at that as everyone chose the animals of their teams. Corpse chose the cat with an eye-patch along with his team. "Maan this is peer pressure!" Your voice called out "lucky for me I like cats"

"That is the truth" the Irish voice boomed through the call once again, "I mean you should see, even their headphones have cat ears"

"I wanna see that!" Dave shouted.

"Can we see them in your cam Jack?" PJ asked.

"Not completely, they're streaming on Twitch though, its at (Y/YT/N) on Twitch and YouTube" Seán smiled as he pat your back.

"You can't just expose me like that!" The cute voice answered panicking.

"I gotta see that, hold on!" Felix shouted as he opened up your stream smirking as he followed you. "Corpse, they'll ruin your life" he continued as your cheeks flushed a bright red, suddenly feeling so exposed and put on the spot "why...why am I ruining his life?" You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Corpse had also opened up your account as he stared in awe at the enchanting individual now on his computer screen. Were you the one Jack had meant? No it couldn't be.

"Well you see, he wrote a song about cat girls ruining his life. Right Corpse?" This statement made him come back to reality and quite flustered at that "Huh? What-  ...ohhh uhm- uh- yeah" he responded in a stutter, the pale skin of his cheeks heating up and turning red.

"Corpse are you alright?" you asked, concern not only laced in your voice but also written all over your face, which he saw. This whole ordeal just made him blush more. There was a short pause "...Yeah.." the raven haired responded. But not even a second later a laugh erupted in the call "Did we just catch you right handed?" The voice belonged to Dave. "What do you mean?" Corpse asked confused. While he waited for a response from his friend, he started fiddling with his rings as he kept his eyes on (Y/N)'s stream which was still pulled up on his screen. "Well, did we catch you watching her stream?" Dave replied trying to hold in his laughter.

Your expression changed as your eyes went wide and you looked right at your camera "Is that true?" Your voice chimed in as a hint of pink spread across your cheeks, one of your eyebrows arched. "Well..." The man with the username 'CORPSE' cleared his throat "I had to see if Jack and Felix were speaking the truth..."

A smirk spread across your face "And? Were they honest?" you laughed as your Irish companion moved his face into the frame of your camera wiggling his eyebrows. The only answer you got to your question was silence before the deep voice continued "Alright let's start this game." Yet another laugh escaped your throat when you noticed the lack of a reply to your question. However, one could say that silence was an answer on its own.

■

■

■

The young guy sighed loudly after the game had ended, rolling back, away from his table, in his gaming chair he ran his hands through his curly hair. The game was fun, but it was exhausting for the man to concentrate on a game this long. Just as he was about to get up, turn all devices off and leave, he heard a familiar sound coming from his computer screen.

A discord call and video call at that was incoming from none other that Jacksepticeye. So, Corpse rolled forward in his chair again as he checked if his camera was turned off and covered. After reassuring himself that his face was hidden he accepted the call. "Hey whaddup?" He greeted his loud friend who immediately responded with a "Hey my man". His mismatched eyes widened as he looked at the screen, it was not only Jack on the call...they were there as well, a shy smile plastered on their face as they kept their eyes closed "Hey Corpse, tell me when your camera is off. Sean told me it might be on and I don't want you to accidentally expose yourself to me." "Oh yeah, it's off. You can open your eyes it's fine." Just as he finished his sentence their eyelids slowly fluttered open as they stared at the black screen and waved. There was no way to describe the feeling that went through him as he admired you in awe. He seemed starstruck and without thinking he blurted out "You have to visit San Diego sometime, but like soon"

Your eyes widened slightly not knowing how to respond to that "Umm...yeah I dunno, maybe someday?" Jack gasped dramatically "You never invited me over even though I'm the one you trusted enough to show your face to!"

Yet another time today, the male behind the black screen felt a blush grow on his face. "Well i-it's your fault for introducing me to your friend. And umm sorry if I was a bit too blunt there" He stuttered. "No it's fine. I'm a very spontaneous person ya know." You replied an embarrassed smile gracing your lips once more "But you could be a killer for all I know...sorry you probably hear that one a lot haha. Also, would you even be comfortable enough to meet up..." slowly you started drifting off with what you were saying. As soon as you realized you were trailing off of the topic at hand, you tried to get back to the conversation "ahem.. yeah, anyways as I was saying...someday sure. I mean...I am traveling around at the moment because I flew to Brighton. Maybe you know, we could get to know each other a bit better first" you smiled nervously as you replied.

"Ah yes...of course. Though I do have a question for you Seán. Is (Y/n) the one we spoke of a few days ago?" came back as a reply. He had a plan to gain their trust if they really were his suspected soulmate. The man next to (Y/n) nodded and gave a wink to the camera they used for the call. This action just confused you even more and it must have shown on your face because your loud friend started laughing at you. "Don't worry it was nothing bad" Jack reassured. "Hold on, is this about the random-" there was a lot of shuffling coming from the black screen. The noise had startled you a bit, causing you to stop mid sentence. "the random question about my eyes?" You continued your question, looking at that Irish friend of yours, but you didn't get a reply for there was another loud noise coming from Corpse's side of the screen. You shifted your attention back to the screen in front of you again just to be met with more shuffling and a sudden colour change of the screen. Your eyes widened as you saw a face only briefly for a split second before your vision suddenly changed. You looked around to see an unfamiliar room and as you saw the sight before your eyes you felt as though they were going to pop out of their sockets at any moment.

No...

No fucking way...

"Holy shit" you heard the words leave both your mouths. You just stared at the screen in front of you to see yourself, who apparently sat on the other side of the screen next to Seán. And you also saw the live view of a young man with black curly hair, dressed in black in a small window of the computer. You felt really dizzy all of a sudden and the light before your eyes went black briefly before returning to more used surroundings again.

Realisation dawned on you as you blinked a few times and spoke aloud "I-I just imagined that right? There's no way. C-Corpse you didn't happen to experience that right now, did-did you?"

"Holy fuck..." you heard a low mutter coming from the speakers.

Jack looked at you, eyebrows raised in confusion for a second before realization dawned on him and a knowing smirk appeared on his face as he shouted "CALLED IT!"

The two of you could not yet comprehend what was happening, let alone listen and realize what your mutual friend had to say.

After a few minutes of complete silence you tore your eyes away from the pen on Jack's desk, which had become the most interesting thing and perfect staring partner for the past minutes and shifted your gaze back to the young raven-haired individual before you, a small smile and a huge blush grazing your facial features as you spoke up, voice quiet and soft, but also full of nervousness "soo...umm...Corpse, are you gonna give me that address in San Diego?"

The question stood in the room for a few moments as silence engulfed you once again. Corpse's expression on his bright red face however, showed he was pondering."Y-yeah of course...sure...I-I'll text it to you if you give me that number of yours..." Then there was a pause. "Whe-When can I expect you then?"

This time it was your turn to think. "How about directly when you leave Brighton?" Jack chimed in. "But th-that's like in two days..." you stuttered in response. It was a nice idea and you did feel a pull to meet this handsome stranger as soon as possible. "Well yeah, that's the point is it not? I already checked for flights while you two where staring off somewhere....Sooo? Should I buy the ticket real quick? You can thank me later." Your mismatching eyes kept switching your gaze from your friend who had made this crazy suggestion and your apparent soulmate who now wore an eyepatch and was watching you expectantly while patiently awaiting your answer. A small sigh left your lips as you made your decision. When you tried to verbally answer though, your voice had left you, so you made eye-contact with the man also known as Corpse Husband, who had trusted you enough to reveal his face to you, and just gave him a small nod. He seemed to understand and gave you a reassuring smile.

"It's final then?" Seán, who had watched this whole ordeal unfold asked smiling happily as you just nodded once again "Y-yeah"

■

■

■

Two days later you found yourself on yet another plane ride, but this time it was not to England, nor was its destination your home. You sat on your seat in silence, music which you couldn't concentrate on, blasting through your headphones while you  twiddled with your fingers, bouncing your leg up and down quickly. What were you gonna say? He would pick you up outside of the airport in order to avoid bumping into things when the view-switching-thing would happen.

■

■

■

Meanwhile, the faceless YouTuber had finished tidying up his apartment and prepared everything for your arrival. He would be lying if he said he didn't look you up on the socials to learn more about you.

About half an hour before the plane would land he drove off to your designated meeting spot. He arrived there 10 minutes early so he could mentally prepare himself. About 5 minutes later he put on his black face mask and exited his car. At first he was gonna wait for you here, but his nerves and heart got the better of him, so he made his way closer inside the airport building to meet you halfway. What he didn't know was that your plane would land early. So, as he made his way through the people, which was way out of his comfort zone already, he started to see black dots clouding his view, but suddenly he came from the other side. Oh no. The body kept walking until he saw himself in the crowd.

Your eyes met as you tried to navigate through the crowd of people, it was hard as you had to control your own body somehow even though you could only see what your soulmate would usually see. Finally you had gotten somewhat closer to one another and as you came to a halt, your bodies mere inches apart as your eyesight returned to your own again. You looked up at the man in front of you in awe. Your eyes were fixated on his as you noticed the (e/c) in his one eye fade away, just to be replaced by this beautiful shade of brown that was in his other eye. The colour you knew so well because you had seen it in the mirror in one of your own eyes everyday. "Your eyes" you whispered. He smiled in return "yours too..it's nice to meet you (Y/n). My soulmate. You are even more dazzling in person" he complimented. "I can't say anything else besides the same applies to you" You smiled in return as your face went red. "Well then...Shall we?" he grinned as he took one of your backpacks and started walking. "Hey! Wait up!" You laughed as you ran to catch up to your soulmate...

[thiserichann]

cookies and cream - lee jeno

reader x jeno

genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough

word count: 4k-ish

warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?

This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.

Holy fuck.

That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.

You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.

But holy fuck.

You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.

"Miss Y/N?"

You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.

"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"

You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.

"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"

"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."

"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."

You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.

You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.

Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.

A good one, too.

It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment

It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.

Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.

Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.

And that's where you've met him.

The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.

He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"

As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.

It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.

Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.

You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.

Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.

You: Hey svlr. School stuff.

  He opened the chat and started typing right away.

  LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.

You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.

LJ: Just the socks?

You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)

You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.

LJ: If only I could :(

You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.

You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.

LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet

LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to

LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?

LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place

LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable

LJ: Hello?

LJ: I'm really sorry

You: Chill. I'm right here

You: I just went to the bathroom

LJ: Oh

You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well

You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea

You: But with the Covid

LJ: Thoughts?

You: I don't think it's a great idea

The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.

LJ: I understand

LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you

LJ: I’ll take care of the rest

LJ: Deal?

You: I'll sleep on it.

You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.

LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then

You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.

You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.

What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?

You sighed.

Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?

You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.

With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.

You: So, I thought about it

LJ: And?

You: I need to know I can trust you

LJ: Okay. How?

You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?

You: Is that fine with you?

Within a split second, he sent his reply.

He actually did it.

You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.

LJ: Consider it done.

He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.

He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.

Lee Jeno.

LJ.

Seems legit.

Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.

You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.

You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.

As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…

“Where’re are you off to?”

You raised your backpack to show to your mother.

“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”

She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.

She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.

“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”

… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.

As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.

It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.

You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.

Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.

Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).

You: I’m almost at the café.

He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.

This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.

On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.

From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.

It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.

You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.

He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.

“You’re actually here.”

“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

tap tap tap tap

The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.

Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.

Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.

Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,

Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.

tap tap tap tap

Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.

As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.

No biggie.

"Hey."

Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.

Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.

“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”

He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.

You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.

He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.

But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.

You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.

“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”

You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.

He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.

You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.

You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.

He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.

He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.

He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.

You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.

“Something wrong?”

“Hold tight.”

You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.

Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.

“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”

"God. You're beautiful."

He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.

He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.

He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.

 Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.

 "Gorgeous."

He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.

You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.

His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.

"Keep it."

He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.

"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."

You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.

"Good girl."

His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.

His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.

"Oh my god. That's it."

You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.

You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.

He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.

It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.

Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.

"Stop stop stop."

You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.

"Can I ride your face?"

At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.

"Shit. I'm coming..."

  You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.

You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You  sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.

“Yes mom?”

“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”

You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.

“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”

“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”

“Yeah mom. Bye.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.

“Where are you going?”

Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.

“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”

You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”

You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.

After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.

It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.

You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.

To be continued.

[sorcererinthestars]

You’ve Got a Fast Car...

I’m back, bitches~~ But seriously, felt great to write again for the @rtwritingcommunity​‘s secret sunshine event! I will tag my recipient if/when I get their a-ok!

Summary: (FAHC) Michael doesn't expect a man to throw himself in front of his car and beg him to stop. This is Los Santos. Picking up hitchhikers is generally frowned upon. But this man has a pretty face and hell - he's got a fast car. What's he got to lose?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32969470

-

Michael knew something was seriously wrong when a man throws himself out in front of his car.

Now, his car was nothing nice, but he still doesn't want to spend the next few hours getting some fucking asshole's blood off of his front bumper. So naturally he slams on the brakes as the man - a skinny, dirty thing with wild hair - does a legitimate fucking slide across the hood of his shit Honda Civic and nearly collapses on the other side. "Oi!"

"Get out of the damn road, idiot!" Michael yells out the window in a reply, flicking him off to boot. It was late, almost 2am at this point, and he really had anything better to do than scream at some (probably high) dickbag who decided to do calisthenics in the goddamn street. But the man doesn't run away ashamed, as Michael had expected. Instead, he frantically pokes at his phone - still in the middle of the street - and Michael sits there, a bit flabbergasted.

He doesn't move.

He still doesn't move when Michael lays his entire weight on the horn, sending a blast of sound into the Los Santos night. It's not as loud or annoying as he may have wanted - LS is always loud as fuck on a Saturday evening - but it does have the intended effect of nearly making the idiot in front of his car in the middle of the street jump half out of his skin.

"SHHH!" the man gasps, comically putting his finger over his lip like he was in a cartoon and making an over-exaggerated shushing motion. Michael has to blink. He's shushing him? While standing in front of his car? Before he can say anything or shake off the disbelief that this shit had to happen to him tonight - he had to get home and clean off before his next shift at the pizza place he had reluctantly taken a job at - the man (still crazy-eyed and wild-haired) runs up to his window. At this moment, Michael really wishes he had invested in a knife, or a Tazer, or something. People had warned him about LS, but he didn't listen. He should probably learn to do that, someday.

"Listen, man," the guy says (see?) and leans forward, a massive grin on his face. He has some pretty high cheekbones. Michael blinks. "Dude, can you please just move or I'm gonna run you the fuck down."

"No, no, no, listen," the man says again, waving his hands about. "Do me a favor, will ya? If you drive me to this address -" he holds his phone up and shows an address on the outskirts of the city - "I'll give you $1,000. Right here, right now, no questions." Michael blinks and then snorts. Yeah fucking right. "I'm not an Uber."

The man shifts on both his feet, looking agitated, and glances over his shoulder. There sounds like there's some sort of commotion coming down the street and he really has to move. So Michael leans on the horn again, blasting another honk into the LS skyline.

This has the unintended effect of making the man lean further over the hood of his car, as if he could hide. Remember. This was in the middle of the goddamn street.

"Dude!"

"I'm not kidding!" the wild-eyed man says frantically. "$1500. Deposited directly into your account. I'm serious, kill me and my crew if I lie."

That was no turn of phrase Michael had ever heard, but the money does make him pause. He's... short on funds right now. Well, he's always short on funds, but this time moreso than usual. $1,500 extra would be a huge boost to the amount he currently has in the bank. He'd pay rent. He wouldn't have to borrow any more from anyone else and avoid that loan shark fucker he found online.

Before he could really think about what he was saying, he finds himself tapping the passenger seat. "Fine. Get in. I swear to god, I better see that money."

And if he dies... well. Then he still wouldn't have to worry about rent, so win-win in his mind.

With a triumphant holler, the man leaps into the car and yanks up a GPS on his phone, pointing them to drive down the street. "Thanks man! I'm Gavin." -

They're not going more than five minutes when sirens start blaring behind them. The man tenses and looks backwards out the window with a frown. "Oh shit."

Michael immediately - immediately - realizes just how much he fucked up. "What do you mean, oh shit?"

"I - uh..." The unhinged man - Gavin - stutters. "Did... Did I mention that uh... the LSPD may want to arrest me?"

"May want to what?!" Michael's voice climbs so many octaves in that last word that it makes Gavin slump down in his seat, suitably chagrined. "I ... seriously, man, I - I needed a car, a way out, I promise I'll give you the money, just please for the love of god, drive the damn car."

"Pull Over," the cop car unhelpfully calls from behind them, making Michael's bowels turn to water. Gavin's even more frantically slamming keys on his phone as they approach a major intersection. Michael keeps looking behind him, unable to slow down as the cops continue to chase them. "Gavin, seriously..."

"You're with me now, man," he replies a bit frantically. "You're in it. So either we avoid them, or you're going to jail too. Sorry."

The words fall like bricks on Michael's shoulders as he realizes that what Gavin just said was true. No cop in their right mind would believe that he - a man with a few blotches on his permanent record already - would have just accepted to pick up a hitchhiker and drive him across town at 2am for $1,500 without assuming he was a criminal. No. Any sane cop would assume he was in on it.

Because the alternative was that he was a fucking lunatic, but here we are.

Gritting his teeth, a conscious shift happens somewhere in his gut. He's a survivor. He'd get the fuck out of this, one way or the other. So, without Gavin's input and in a split second decision, he takes a sharp left and rips around the corner, sending Gavin flying against the door with a shout of surprise. "HEY!"

"Gotta avoid the cops, don't we?" Michael says with a maniacal burst of laughter, the insanity that can only be best described as hysteria. "You're the navigator, idiot, get us to where we need to be!"

The nervousness - which had appeared on Gavin's face after Michael had blown up at him - evaporated as Gavin bursts into a big smile. "Hell yeah," he hums. "Let's do this."

-

After fifteen minutes, Michael had lost all his nerves. Instead, he felt like an overinflated balloon, filled with a giddy sort of lunacy that he had never felt before as they flew down abandoned Los Santos streets. He shrieked with laughter as they slipped down the runway illuminated by neon lights and flashing red and blues, which whipped around them like a rave of their own design.

The freedom was intoxicating. Michael had taken drugs before back in New Jersey, who hadn't(?), but this was a whole different sort of high. And as soon as Gavin realized that Michael was in it with him, he had turned into an erratic demon of death, urging Michael onward with the same fire that was reflected in Michael's soul.

They flew down the streets like hedonists, shrieking with laughter and happiness as Gavin shoves his head out the sunroof to flick off the cops and shout insults.

When the first gunshot cracks through the night, Michael is sobered only for a moment. In for a penny, in for a pound. He's already here, dodging the cops, so this shit may as well happen. It's like he's in a godforsaken video game but he's not. This is real life, this is his life, and maybe he's ruining it. Maybe. But what had he not ruined in his life already? For a few moments, he could feel like he was disconnected from reality, driving so fast he could swear he could fly, a - undeniably pretty - man urging him to new, foolish lengths from the seat next to them.

And so they flew. As they approached intersections and traffic lights, Michael could see - more like sense - Gavin's own particular talents. He admits he has no abilities behind the wheel, hence begging Michael to help him, but he's able to make every traffic light change from here to the safehouse, giggling like a school kid all the while, knowing he was being naughty but that just sends them into a more frenzied set of hysterics.

It tastes like the best drug, the most collective high, the freedom that comes from knowing you're one step away from death or worse but that dangle is intoxicating. Maybe ten minutes ago he hated what was happening, but all that was gone now.

It's just the car, him, and Gavin's frantic - musical - laugh.

-

Eventually - with Gavin's GPS and eventually warm hand over his - they lose the cops. Michael has no sense of time, no concept of how long they were on the roads causing havoc, fleeing and laughing and shrieking like demons.

All he knows is that he's out in the North now and the beginning shards of sun were peeking over the horizon. He's able to slow to a manageable speed and catch his breath.

Gavin's phone rings and the man answers it. Michael can't hear what he's saying past the ringing in his ears, the result of wind whipping past his face and hours of excitement. His face is red when he meets Gavin's eyes. He closes the phone and the excitement shines bright in his eyes.

For a moment, Michael's breath is taken away. Then Gavin just points. "Top of Chilliad. Get me there." His voice is hoarse from yelling, deeper than it was, and it stirs something that Michael can't explain.

"Yes, sir," he hums teasingly. In for a penny, in for a pound, like he had said before. They start the climb up the dirt road. Once or twice, Michael doesn't think his car can make it, but the tenacious Civic crawls forward as if it knows what it had done too and felt on top of the world.

They make it to the top as the sun finally breaks over the horizon completely, blanketing the world in orange and red. When Michael finally - finally- throws the car in park and looks over at him, Gavin's grinning the biggest grin Michael has ever seen.

Before he can do anything, fuelled by adrenaline and fire and the same pure joy on Gavin's face, Michael leans over and kisses him deeply, half dragging him over the stick shift.

They kiss feverishly for a few moments, the adrenaline fading, before breaking apart and chuckling sheepishly. "I - sorry, I ..."

Gavin just winks. It's knowing. "No problem, luv," he purrs. "Does it to you, doesn't it? The chase? Makes the fire in your blood run hot." He leans forward conspiratorially. "Men weren't made to walk on their knees," he hums. "Think about it." He digs in his pocket and drops a card on the passenger seat before climbing out of the door, even as Michael tries to grab his arm and yank him back. "Gav--"

"Later, beautiful," Gavin grins, seemingly more suave and sophisticated than the man he was when he first climbed into the car. Like he was grifting and Michael was his poor, unsuspecting mark. "I'll call you. You're a great driver. Check your account." He salutes and it's then when Michael can hear the thud-thud of roters. A helicopter?

Before he can say anything, climbing frantically out of the car to watch, Gavin grabs a rope ladder hanging off the bottom of a fucking cargobob and is lifted into the air, disappearing quickly out of sight like something out of a fairy tale.

And Michael is left in the remains of the sun-drenched LS morning, with a car almost empty of gas and mysteriously $1,500 richer.

Whatever had happened to him that night in Los Santos, he knows his life will never, ever be the same.

[psychedellic-phase]

Princess (smut)

A/N: I feel like this is definitely out of character but it literally would not leave my brain. also yes they are so toxic !!! I binge wrote this at 1 am so I hope you enjoyyy

tw: arguing, cursing SMUT! Oral (male receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, cheating & toxic relationships.

word count: 4.6 k 

masterlist

It was Thursday. I knew I’d find him where he usually is on Thursdays: that corner table at O’Malley’s, the one below the neon ‘Corona’ sign. 

I went most Thursdays, when I could, and sat at a table across the bar. It was the perfect place to watch him have two whiskeys, neat, and go home alone. 

He hadn’t noticed me yet. It’s not like I looked different, I still looked like me but he looked better and better every time I saw him. 

Was it weird to watch my ex-boyfriend that I swear I’m over from across a bar? Yes. Do I have a loving boyfriend at home waiting for me to come home every Thursday? Yes. Am I lying to this boyfriend? Yes. Am I completely over my ex like I say I am? Clearly not. Am I completely insane? Definitely. 

It’s not my fault though, Spencer Reid just had to be all consuming. Addicting. Intoxicating. A human black hole who I’d happily fall back into any given day, but he couldn’t know that. It would just feel his already overinflated ego. He could never know about how all my thoughts revolve around him. Maybe he isn’t a black hole, maybe he’s the sun, and I’m just a planet spinning around him. 

Every Thursday I tried to get up the nerve to go say Hi. And every Thursday I managed to get up the nerve the second he paid his tab and left. 

But today, that was going to change. I was going to do it, just say Hi. It shouldn’t have been scary, I did spend six months of my life with him. He knows me, much better than I’d like to admit, and I know him. But he always knew how to make me twitch. The man could make me nervous, and men never make me nervous. No one ever makes me nervous. 

I watched him as he sat, his hair longer than it had been when we were together. His suit looked the same, so did the gray cardigan and maroon tie. I vaguely remember having that exact tie around my wrists one night. He used his beautiful fingers to trace the rim of his cup, his brown hair covering his eyes lightly. His eyes, brown but hazel, like a golden green, with beautiful eyelashes I was always jealous of. They’re so long, he looks like he has mascara on.

Wait his eyes. 

Eyes?

Shit. 

I had made direct eye contact with him. 

He saw me. 

I saw him. 

Fuck. 

And now he’s walking. Towards me. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Here he is, right in front of me. God he’s so hot.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I just stared at him. He slid the chair across from me from out under the table without asking permission. He sat in it, whiskey in hand.

“So what exactly have you been doing here every Thursday for the last eight Thursdays, Y/N?”

I blushed lightly, but kept my composure. He knew how to make me nervous but I knew how to make him sweat. 

“O’Malley’s makes the best cosmos in DC.”

He shifted in his seat, fingers drumming on the table, “It’s a mediocre cosmo at best. You’re here for me. So here I am.”

I sat up in my seat, “Mediocre cosmo, and mediocre company.”

“Mediocre?” He chuckled darkly, “If I’m so mediocre then why have you been watching me?”

Of course he figured me out, he’s a goddamn FBI agent. God I was stupid sometimes, but only with him. It’s like every time he spoke, half of my brain flew out of my head. 

“Honestly, there isn’t much else to look at around here,” I gestured around the dingy bar, “And also, it’s been way longer than eight Thursdays. You should brush up on those observation skills, Dr. Profiler.”

His eyes darkened, “You never answered my question, Princess.”

I shuddered at the use of that nickname. I hadn’t heard it from him in a while, I just hoped he couldn’t see the effect it had on me. I evaded the question again, “The better question is why do you come here alone each week like clockwork?”

He shrugged, “Because you’re here every Thursday like clockwork.”

My mouth fell open slightly. He thought about me. I was weirdly proud of myself for that. He continued, “What? You think you were the only one watching? Please.”

I scoffed, “Then why wait so long to come over?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

I bit my lip, a dull flame forming in my belly, “I don’t come over because I have a boyfriend, and it would be inappropriate.”

He smiled, showing his beautiful white teeth, “Well that’s a lie.”

“It’s true!” I was offended. He acted as if another man would never want me, like the colossal pain the ass he always is.

“No, no, I believe the boyfriend. But the threshold of what is appropriate was passed when you lied to him for weeks just so you could get a good look at me.”

He was right. I did lie, about a lot of things and mostly to myself. God, why couldn’t I just love the nice guy? Why was it the infuriating, sexy, genius who I found myself in quicksand with?

“Stephan knows where I am.”

Another lie he’d see right through, but I didn’t care. I’d lie through my teeth if that meant that he would keep talking. God, how I missed his voice, his stupid, arrogant, beautiful voice. 

Spencer looked at me straight in the eyes then, “Does he princess? That’s sweet.”

The condescension in his voice was palpable.

“You’re still so passive aggressive,” I said, leaning back in my chair to create space between us. He leaned forward, eradicating the space I just created. 

“Yet you’re still here.”

I stood up then, feeling like the tension between us could suffocate me, “I’m getting another round. Neat?”

He nodded, “Make it a double, I think I’ll need it.”

I walked over to the bar, finally getting some air. I was already so hot, and it wasn’t from the packed bar. It was from the way his eyes looked through me, the way he said my name, the way he said ‘Princess’. I regained my composure and sauntered back over to him. Game on, Pretty Boy. 

“So how’s what’s his name? Steven?” He said, taking his new drink. 

I rolled my eyes, “It’s Stephan, but you knew that. You know everything.”

He chuckled cockily, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, “Well, how is Stephan?” He said the name with a fake posh accent, forcing me to hold back a laugh. 

“He’s wonderful,” I responded, twirling the mini umbrella from my drink between my fingers. Spencer’s dark eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, reading me like a book. The same way he always had. 

“No he isn’t,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Wh-,” I groaned, “Spencer, I swear he’s great!”

“You haven’t gotten any better at lying.”

“And you haven’t gotten less infuriating.”

“Infuriating? Me?” He was mocking me now, I crossed my arms in defense, hoping maybe he could read that body language, and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. 

God why did he have to be like that? How did he always know exactly which buttons to press? And why did I like it? Why was I on fire from the moment he walked over?

“You were infuriating for the six months we dated, three years ago, and you’re infuriating now.”

He shrugged, “But you still like it. Some things never change, Princess.”

I blushed, knowing he was right, but not wanting to admit it, “I don’t like it. I hate it.”

He moved his chair closer to me at the table, so close I could smell him. He smelled the same way he did those years ago, and I had the same reaction. Thank god I was sitting; he made me so weak in the knees.  

Snap out of it, Y/N. I ordered myself, Think of Stephan, yes. Stephan, beautiful, boring Stephan. 

“Stephan isn’t infuriating,” I said, trying to ignore the way he licked his lips when he looked at me. God, I wanted to feel them against me. 

“Oh really? What is Stephan like?” Spencer said, using air-quotes around his name, disgust dripping from each syllable. 

“He’s nice.”

I avoided making eye contact, knowing full well how Spencer could see every lie I was about to tell. It wasn’t that Stephan was bad, he was just so, painfully, boring. If cardboard was a human being, it would’ve been Stephan. 

“Nice? That’s all?” Spencer said it with an air of amusement. 

“Well, he’s an accountant and he’s thirty-one.”

Spencer leaned close to me now, his breath smelling like whiskey and tickling my cheeks as he spoke, “Those are facts Y/N, I want to know what he’s like. Is he good to you? Does he make you happy?”

I gulped. There were the nerves. I was starting to twitch; his specialty. 

“He’s wonderful. He’s charming. I couldn’t ask for a better man.”

Spencer leaned back, crossing his legs and drinking some more, waiting for me to continue. 

“My parents love him. He’s smart, and handsome too.”

Spencer scoffed, “Your parents loved me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Well, he actually calls when he says he will, unlike you. Also unlike you, he’ll open doors for me because he isn’t scared of germs. He also doesn’t correct me every time I misspeak, instead he tells me I’m beautiful, and smart, and funny.”

We fell silent, both looking angry and defensive. He always could get to me like this. My body was hot and angry and so was his. He looked so good, it actually hurt. Could his lips be any pinker? Could his jawline be any sharper? 

“I’m waiting for the ‘but,’” He said, taking me out of my head for a moment. 

“But?”

“Yeah, what’s his fatal flaw Y/N?”

“Flaw? He has none. He’s literally perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Yes!” I snapped. 

“No one’s perfect. What’s his flaw?” 

“None!”

Spencer kept badgering me, “What is it? Tell me, Princess. Tell me. Tell me what it is, you know you want to.”

It felt like a dam that was inside me had been broken, water and the truth pouring out at once, “He isn’t you!”

Spencer leaned back and smiled, “There it is.”

“Stephan is kind and gentle. We don’t scream, or fight. I don’t stay up crying and yelling and cursing! But he isn’t you, and I wish he was.” I gasped for air, not realizing I hadn’t been breathing, “There! Are you happy now?!”

Spencer was grinning, just like usual, “Very.”

I rolled my eyes, “Your turn.”

He raised his eyebrows and pointed to himself, “My turn?”

“Yeah, why have you been alone the last three years Reid? We both know you can have anyone in this place. Hell, Red over there has been eyeing you up for the last hour,” I gestured to the girl a few tables away who had been stealing glances at Spencer. An action that totally didn’t make my blood boil, at all, not even a little. 

He avoided my gaze now, “You know why.”

Now I had the power back. I got close to Spencer, so only he could hear me. All my reservations were gone, I was in the black hole. The fire in my body that I hadn’t felt for so long was finally back, “I want to hear you say it.”

He got even closer, lips barely a millimeter apart, “Just like he isn’t me, no woman alive will ever be you.”

I smiled, proud of the confession. I pulled back. As much as I wanted him right now, right here on this sticky bar table, I am no cheater, and though I forgive, I never forget. 

“Another difference between you and Stephan is that he won’t break my heart.”

Spencer smirked, “He can’t break your heart, because you feel nothing for him. There’s no love to lose.”

I sighed and ceded, “You’re right.”

“Always am.”

A comfortable silence followed, and my head was spinning. I don’t know if it was from the cosmos or from Spencer. He tended to do that to me. We both had softened. I was sad, because I knew it would never work. As much as I wanted it to, it wouldn’t. It didn’t three years ago. I just needed to live with it. You need more than passion to make it work. Hell, if all you needed was passion, Spencer and I would be growing old together right now. 

“This isn’t healthy, you know?”

Spencer nodded, all aggression faded away, “I know.”

“This will never work.”

“I know.”

“No I mean like never.”

Spencer gave me a half smile, “You don’t have to convince me. I know.”

I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand in the most platonic way possible. His skin was warm. I missed the way it felt under mine. 

“I just wish it would.”

He smiled sadly now, big brown eyes meeting mine and looking through me into my soul, “So do I, Princess.”

I laughed, “And stop calling me princess!”

“Or what, Princess?” He said it flirtatiously, his hand squeezing mine.

“Or I won’t be able to stop.”

“Stop what, Princess?”

“Stop myself from kissing you right now.”

He leaned in, lips barely an inch apart again, “Then don’t.”

And with that our lips touched softly, before we parted. The kiss was familiar but foreign. I’d felt it a million times before, but this one was different because the feelings were different. We stared at each other, before I stood, holding his hand. 

“Follow me,” I said, the fire in my belly mixing with the delightful throb in my core. All reservations were gone. I needed him. I needed him right now, or I felt like I might explode. 

He held my hand as we maneuvered between the crowd and ended up in front of the bathroom.

“Bathroom? Y/N there’s so many germs that’s-”

I had to cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him into me. Our lips found each other so easily, like second nature. His were soft but chapped, I missed the way they felt on the rest of my body. I pulled him into the stall, and he pressed me up against a wall. His rough hands roamed my figure, landing on my hips and squeezing there. I pressed my hips into him, relishing the feeling. My hands found his hair, tugging at the roots to beckon his mouth open. He obliged, tongue moving across my lower lip and tangling with mine. Every movement sent twinges of pleasure to my core. 

When we broke apart, he looked at me, his light brown eyes seeming impossibly dark with lust, the same darkness that they held just minutes before. 

“Please, bedroom, not here,” He begged, and I silently agreed, peeling myself off of him.

I dropped a fifty on the table before stumbling out into the street for a cab. His hands never left my body, and his lips found mine every chance they got. 

In the back of the cab he was on top of me, squeezing the flesh of my butt as I left butterfly kisses and sucked on his neck. 

We showed up to my apartment, and ran inside. He pressed me up against the elevator door.  “Princess, I need you,” he whined, making me moan into his lips.

“Soon, so so soon, fuck.”

I fumbled with my keys, but soon we were inside.

“Bedroom,” he ordered before crashing his lips against mine again, this time even more feverishly, if that was physically possible. I stumbled backwards in the general vicinity of my room, not wanting to break apart from him for even a moment. He pressed his large hand into my back, steadying me for a moment and took his lips off mine. 

I whimpered, immediately missing the warmth of him on me. 

“Lead the way, princess.”

I smiled wide at the use of that pet name. It always sent an extra jolt of pleasure to my center when Spencer whispered it. 

Grabbing his hand I found the bedroom door. Before we even crossed the threshold his hands were on my body again, this time under my dress looking for panties to peel off.  

“No panties? Were you waiting for this Princess?”

I nodded and groaned as I kissed him, moving my lips down and across his sharp jaw, flicking my tongue out every once in a while and sucking lightly on spots. Just enough for him to moan, but not enough for a mark. I felt my knees hit the mattress of my bed and I fell back onto it, Spencer towering over me. 

I pulled my dress off, throwing it and my bra far away. I needed him to touch me. Now. 

His hands were cold on my chest, making my hardened nipples even harder. He pinched the buds lightly, making me arch my back into his body. 

He snickered, “Patience is a virtue, Princess.”

I groaned and pulled at his shirt, telling him I wanted it gone. 

“Too many clothes,” I mumbled against his chest as I kissed whatever skin I could reach. He did as I wished, and I sat up on my elbows to watch. His muscles contracting as he pulled it off was enough to force me to rub my thighs together, desperate for any feeling. He undid his belt too, letting his pants fall to the floor and stepping out of them. His boxer briefs left little to the imagination, not that I was complaining. The light gray material was darkened in one spot from where his precum was dripping. 

“Come back, Sir,” I begged.

His hands were on my shoulders and pushed me back so he could be on top of me again. The feeling of his chest against mine was maddening. I could also feel his member on my thigh, so close to my dripping heat, but still so far away. He distracted me with another kiss, his teeth coming out to bite my bottom lip. I moaned at the slight pain, running my hands all over his bare back. He worked his way from my lips to my jaw, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake. It drove me wild. I was bucking up into him, nails digging into his skin, sure to leave pretty red marks in their wake. He then made his way to my ear, sucking on the lobe ever so slightly. 

“You know, the ears are an under-appreciated erogenous zone,” he said between nibbling and sucking on my ear and the skin around it. 

“S-Spence,” I let out a breathy moan. Everything he did sent me reeling, clawing into his back begging for more. He really did drive me insane. His hand was back on my breast now, one arm was holding him up while the other pinched and played with my nipples. 

As he kissed and sucked the soft skin of my neck I did the same to whatever skin I could reach. I sucked on his shoulder, right where it meets the collarbone, appreciating how his skin was a little salty. 

I took one hand from his back and slid it between us, reaching down and toying with the waistband of his boxers. 

“Princess,” he moaned right in my ear as I reached in and pumped his hard cock twice, flicking my thumb over the tip to smear around his precum. 

He sat up, kneeling on either side of my thighs and I took that as my chance to pull the boxers down just enough for the pink head to bob out. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair was covering his eyes, sticking to his forehead in some parts. He gave you a slight nod, and I sat up, immediately taking my tongue from base to tip. 

He took in a sharp breath as I took the tip of my tongue into the slit at the head of his cock, collecting what had formed there. It was salty, but I didn’t mind. The taste was familiar. I selfishly went down to lightly suck on his balls, squeezing the one not getting any attention with my free hand. He sighed, hands tangling through my hair, tugging at the root. 

I pushed on his stomach, “Lay down, I want to suck you right.”

I didn’t need to ask him twice. In a matter of moments I was straddling him, taking the head and sucking on it gently. 

“Fuuuck,” he whined, “You give the best head princess.”

I smiled around his cock as I took it inch by inch into my mouth. My hands took whatever I couldn’t fit and I started at an agonizingly slow pace. Speeding up as his grip on my hair got tighter. 

He moaned in approval, a slew of curse words and praises I could barely hear. I was just focused on swirling my tongue around his cock as he buried it in my throat. He bucked his hips in an attempt to face fuck me, and I allowed it. The head brushed against the farthest point in my throat, causing me to gag, saliva dripping down the sides of my face. 

“You look so pretty when you gag on me Princess.”

I hummed around him in pleasure, toying with his balls again, begging him to cum in my mouth.  Hearing him moan just made me more of a mess. 

He tugged on my hair slightly, “No way, I’m cumming on those pretty tits.”

I smiled up at him and wiped off my mouth. Spencer caught me in another kiss, this one much more loving and tender than the previous ones. He cupped my face and stroked my cheek. 

His free hand came between my bodies in the same move I had used on him, this time his lithe fingers rubbing my clit lightly, but only for a moment. 

The kiss deepened into a full on teenage make-out, our naked bodies grinding against each other. I had never been so desperate in my life, wetness dripping down my thighs. His hands were on my ass, pinching and squeezing. 

“Touch me,” I begged between kisses. 

“Lay down Princess.”

We swapped positions again and I moved up the bed to lean on some pillows. 

He kissed me, hand moving deftly to my aching core. He took the tip of his middle finger and swiped between my lips. 

I shuddered at the touch, but it was taken away so quickly. 

He leaned to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin as he placed that same finger in my mouth. I sucked on it greedily, “So wet for me already Princess.”

He nipped at my ear lobe again, causing me to buck my hips up at him. He put his face just over mine, looking deeply into my eyes as he took one finger and put it all the way in. 

I groaned happily at the contact, closing my eyes to savor it. 

“Eyes open. Watch me.”

I opened my eyes, just as he added a second finger, curling them to find my g spot. I opened my mouth to moan but no sound came out. The pleasure of him in me was rippling throughout my touch-starved  body. 

“More Spencer, please ah- fuck- more!” I yelped. His free hand came up to my breast, kneading it and my nipple again. I moaned louder, more guttural this time. His fingers never stopped even as I clawed at his skin. My nails dragged along his back and my eyes never left his. 

If my eyes looked anything like his, then they were clouded with lust and immense pleasure. 

“Spence—“ I gasped as he added his thumb to circle my clit. 

It felt intoxicating, like I was high on all the drugs at once. The vision of his perfect face went black at the edges, that feeling I missed so much forming in my stomach. He’s the only one who could give it to me.

“Use your words Princess,” he cooed, flicking his tongue between his lips. 

“D-Don’t stop I’m close.”

He took this as a signal to go faster, his hands moving in ways I  didn’t think possible. His thumb rubbed rough figure eights over my clit that was slick from my own wetness. When my breathing quickened and I tightened around him he knew I was close, leaning in to kiss me gently as I rode out my orgasm. 

I moaned loudly into his mouth as the rubber band snapped, tingling and pulsing around his fingers.  He coaxed me through it, milking me for everything I had. When he removed his hand and licked me off of his fingers, I whined. I needed something to fill me up; I  needed him to fill me up. I felt so empty without him there. 

“Want me to fuck you, princess?” He asked, his hands coming up to brush the hair out of my face. 

“More than anything,” I managed out, still feeling delirious from the first orgasm. 

“Your wish is my command,” and with that he placed his tip inside of me, moving slowly to allow me to adjust to him. 

“Ah fuck,” we both groaned simultaneously. 

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, finally filling me to the hilt and waiting for my signal to tell him to start. 

“Fuck me, Spencer Reid, fuck me like you mean it,” I burst, and he did. 

At first he started slowly, only moving a few inches in and out. I jerked my hips up, wanting to feel more. He thrusted in and out of me wildly, his hair bouncing with every motion and sweat dripping down his face. 

I relished every movement, using my hands to tangle through his hair and my lips to suck on his neck as he leaned over me. He withdrew almost completely, then pounded back into me, the pain causing me to hiss. 

The room was filled with primal, animal-like moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. I reached up and put two fingers in his mouth, which he licked with gusto knowing exactly what I was going to do with them. I mimicked his rough figure eights on my clit, wanting to cum with him. 

“I’m close princess,” he panted, “Can I cum on those pretty tits?”

I just nodded, unable to find words as we climbed the mountain to our orgasms together. After a few more strokes he pulled out and brought himself to his orgasm, cumming all over my chest with a sigh. He flopped down next to me, overexerted. I continued circling and my own orgasm came seconds later and much less intense than the one he had given me prior. 

Spencer stood up and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the fluid off my chest. When I was cleaned up I snuggled up against him, face to face. 

“Are we going to talk about this?” He panted, still regaining his breath. He gingerly moved some hair from my face.

I sighed, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you?”

He smiled, “You know I’m never going to stop loving you too, Princess?”

Saying those words again took the weight of the last three years off my shoulders, but deep down I still had doubts.

“We won’t work.”

My voice cracked and tears were threatening my eyes.

He kissed my cheek, and pulled me against him, “We don’t know unless we try and I promise to be less infuriating this time, Princess.”

I turned so our lips met, “So let’s try.”

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe​

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something.  “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.”  You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter? 

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

[katsuflossy]

Their S/o Doing the Sweeney Todd challenge with Them

Pairings: Bakugo x reader, Todoroki x reader, Kaminari Denki x reader, Sero Hanta x reader

A/N: So sorry for not dropping any content this week. College is super time consuming and as I said before I hardly have time to wipe my ass. But I hope you guys enjoy this lil thang 😁

Taglist: @sunset-novice-writer @goatsenpaiultimate

💥 Oh, brother,...may the element of surprise help you with this one.

💥 The last time you did a TikTok around him you had the nerve “accidentally” hit him with your bag. Mans almost skinned your ass if you didn’t pay him in a bunch of hugs and all the sorts.

💥 So you decide to do the kissing Sweney Todd challenge with him at the table. You propped your phone and mans was not having it knowing that you’re doing another Tiktok around him.

💥 “(Y/n) put that phone down, I ain’t fucking doing it.”

💥“Please Kastu, this one isn't as bad as the last one.” 

💥 “I don’t fucking care I don’t want to be in your Tiktok shitty woman-” Little did he know you already set the timer and the song began as he was yapping his mouth off. 

💥 The first kiss had the man looking like a freeze-frame. He said: 

💥 After every kiss, his tomato face percentage raised higher. And then the lyrics I- do you want his heart to go into cardiac arrest.

💥 Could’ve been a game fr: How red can the Katsuki turn.

💥 The goo-goo eyes you’re sending him ain’t helping either.

💥 After the Tiktok ran out, mans was still on the mannequin challenge (ugh 2016 come back 2020 is mad ghetto)

💥 He turns to you, blush subsided to only his cheeks and ears, and said:

💥 “Well, why’d ya stop? You missed a couple lyrics the first time.”

🧊 He’s an old man. Denki had to download Tiktok for him (he ain’t got no privacy settings in goddamn phone at all so Denki went straight to download it and some other stuff 👀)

🧊 His fyp lacks so much flavor like 😷 

🧊 You had to step in to manage the account.

🧊 “Shouto, where’s the flavor in this? i don’t taste anything! i don’t taste sugar, honey, cinnamon, nutmeg-”

🧊 So when you set up the phone and told him to get into the frame, he thought it was just one of those “put a finger down” vids he’s seen. 

🧊 Show this man some black tiktok creators please 😑

🧊 Three stages he goes through when you’re pecking his cheek, the one right under the scar

🧊 Stage 1: Freeze frame, stage 2: He actually freezes...like his other check had ice attached to it. And stage 3: He blushes and returns one peck back while you’re saying the last parts of the song. 

🧊 Shoto, stahp you make my heart be on x games mode.

🧊 You post it and the comments are either coping over the cuteness of the vid or simping over Shoto EVEN THOUGH you’re literally kissing the boy

🧊 Consider privating it.

🎆 He’s friends with Denki bro he knows Tiktok 

🎆 But all the training he’s doing he can hardly keep up with new trends unless its the super popular ones Denki rounds up everyone to do.

🎆 You said you want to do a Tiktok, he doesn’t care but he’ll do anything for you

🎆 The music start and the man already know this shit sounds familiar.

🎆 Started smirking like Sweeney Todd himself while staring at you pecking his cheek.

🎆 After all them pecks, he turns to you slowly, looking you straight in the eye before pulling you into a hot  makeout session.

🎆 While he pounced on you, boy knocked over the phone. The phone was still recording after and all the camera could see was Hitoshi’s purple hair.

🎆 Comments kept saying yall took that shit to the bedroom 👀 ...I’ll leave it up to your imagination.

⚡️ Man stop playing wit my boy. He on straight tiktok, alt tiktok, black tiktok and the rest.

⚡️ So he knew it was the Sweney Todd sound as soon as that first note hit.

⚡️ I hc he knows tiktok sounds by the first beat and has never been incorrect once. 

⚡️ You couldn’t even reach his cheek because he turned his head to meet you in a nice smooch.

⚡️ Girl you’re so  shocked, couldn’t even finish the whole challenge so he took over for you.

⚡️ Lip syncing the song perfectly, pecking your lips the exact moments when he should and giving you award-winning acting at the end of it. While you’re still in a state of shock.

⚡️ Hold up… ain’t this supposed to be your tiktok?

⚡️ Doesn’t matter because you posted it and now y’all are at the top of the sound 😊.

🩹 Mans versed in his TikTok. 

🩹 Like Denki, his fyp is just a jump from one section of tiktok to the next.

🩹 Sooo yeah he knows the Sweeney Todd sound

🩹 You had to catch him at the right time cause he’s one that doesn’t like to do tiktoks (Kaminari always ropes him in tho)

🩹 He’s lying on the couch, too distracted by his switch to see you setting up your phone before clicking the timer. 

🩹 The sound of the timer gives him PTSD because all the tiktoks Denki puts him in are either pranks or dances.

🩹 Pleasantly surprised when your head popped up over the arm of the couch.

🩹 “What are you doing?” You threw him a reassuring smile.

🩹 “Just trust me, love”

🩹 The song starts and Sero is calmed to not hear “I MAKE A MOTHERFUCKA SAY OH YEAH” or any of the “my way or da high way” shits.

🩹 He’s the embodiment of a fire truck the way his face is red cause you’re peppering his forehead with all these kisses (i’m so lonely man).

🩹 As soon as you’re singing the last part he brings down your lips to his, snatching your breath away the minute they came in contact with one another.

🩹 He lets you go to sing the very last part of the sound but staring into your eyes, forgetting that ya’ll are on camera.

🩹 Basically the all the comments under that post: 🛥🛥🛥🛥

[tobesobri]

Bust | Part Three: Carve (5.5k)

content warning: body image, fatphobia

She wasn’t sure what gave her the boost of confidence to trek up goddamned Justice Hill for the second time today, but she was here. And she was glancing through the windows to find Harry up at his front desk. His cup set aside while he focused on a mound of clay in front of him that roughly took the shape of some humanoid object.

Without giving herself time to second guess, she pushed through the front door and got his attention immediately.

He sat up a little straighter, opened his mouth and then closed it. Loosened the knot between his brows and then tightened it. All while she just stood at the back of the room catching her breath and just staring at him.

“Wh-” He started but it was too late.

She turned right back around and left again.

In which Y/N is an annoyance in Harry’s sculpting class.

story masterlist | my masterlist

She already regretted letting her doubts and her nerves get the best of her while she sat in front of Rose and wished it was Harry instead. Maybe he would have said yes. It was just coffee and she knew he drank it. Nothing had to happen from there. She even could have invited him to come with her and Rose, to make it a little less stressful on herself. But she just… did nothing.

“Hey I guess great minds think alike.” Rose commented, glancing over Y/N’s head. And when she turned to follow her gaze it was like the universe was giving her a second chance.

Harry stood in line behind an older couple, his white jumpsuit a thing of the past as he now wore a pair of joggers and a long-sleeve t-shirt with tour dates printed on the back of some band she’d never heard of. She wondered if he took a spare change of clothes with him to the studio. If sometimes he stayed late and had them just in case. If he stayed late, fixing her sculpture in his spare comfy clothes while playing his music throughout the empty studio.

“I’m going to ask him to join us.” Rose was gone before Y/N could protest, not that she really wanted to anyways. She wanted Harry to pull up a third chair at their little round table. She wanted to hear his voice again up close. Feel the heat radiating off of him. Compare her hands to his while he gripped his own cup of coffee. She just wanted him around in general.

And that was so very not typical of her. To care so much about someone.

So when Rose returned without Harry trailing her, she was a little disappointed at first.

“He said he’d come over for a bit once he orders.” She reassured then and it was all sunflowers and daisies in Y/N’s head again. She just hated that Rose had to be the one to ask him because she was too much of a coward to do it herself.

Rose made room and Y/N flipped her head around when he got close, pulling the chair out Rose had readied for him. He sat down with a smile and his cup in hand, placing a little bag on the table in front of him.

“Do you guys want some?” He asked, noticing both girl’s preoccupation with what was in the bag, “It’s a blueberry scone.”

In unison, they gave two completely different answers. Rose agreed eagerly while Y/N politely declined. And the second he pushed the bag towards Rose and watched her pull the delicious little pastry out of it, Y/N regretted a second thing that night.

“So do you like, stay late at the studio or something?” Rose started, making casual conversation with him in a way Y/N wished she was capable of.

He nodded, “Sometimes, if I’m working on something.”

“And are you?”

He stared at the table and blinked a couple times before shrugging, “Sort of, I guess.”

Rose looked up at him confused, “How do you sort of work on something?”

He laughed at himself and sat back against his chair after having been hunched over the table, “Well I don’t really know if it’s going to turn out. So I don’t like to get my hopes up.”

“What is it? If you don’t mind me asking.”

And maybe she just imagined it, but Y/N swore she saw him glance at her. It was brief, barely even a second that he looked her way.

What the fuck did that mean?

“Um,” he coughed into his hand and cleared his throat, “well I sculpt a lot of figures of women so… it’s that.”

“Anyone in particular or do you just make them up?”

“Depends. This one’s in particular.” He explained quietly and for some reason it made Y/N’s heart fucking burst through the roof. Like Harry would ever make a fucking piece of art after her likeness.

“Well, that’s cool! Will we ever get to see it?”

He shook his head abruptly, “They take me at least a month to complete, and we only have two and a half more weeks.”

“Oh… well do you have social media where you post them when you’re done?” Rose asked and Y/N hid her face instantly behind her coffee cup, pretending to genuinely be thirsty when she really just wanted to avoid the topic of her already being fully aware of Harry’s Instagram.

“Yeah, um, I have Instagram.”

“What is it?” Rose picked her phone up from the table, readying herself to search his username when he gave it to her. And Y/N could sense the bit of reluctance just before he did, like he either didn't give it out often or didn’t really want Rose to know about it.

“This one?” She asked, pointing at the top of a list of potential Harry accounts and he nodded.

They both watched as Rose scrolled through his photos in a way Y/N had already done. Harry was sitting in a pit of nerves because he never really enjoyed being in front of someone while they saw his work for the first time. He had no idea what she would think of it or why he even cared. But he did. He always cared. And Y/N, well, she just hoped Rose wouldn’t notice that Harry already followed her.

She wasn’t sure if there was a way to easily see that on Instagram, but if there was, she prayed Rose didn’t know about it either.

Instead, Rose tilted her head to the side, looking a little confused. “Oh… you do um…”

Both Y/N and Harry leaned in a little to see the photo Rose had clicked on. It was one of his sculptures. One of the female figures that was most definitely not skinny. Y/N bit the insides of her mouth and prepared for the worst.

“Plus sized women…”

Y/N didn’t move a single inch. Not even to blink. The connotation laced in Rose’s words said everything and she had no prior clue that Rose was so bothered by fat people before.

“Well, I do different body types, yeah.” Harry corrected. He did sculpt plus sized women, but not in the sort of light Rose was making it out to be.

“Sorry,” she glanced between the both of them, “I just didn’t realize.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Y/N finally spoke. Finally did something other than sit in her fear and anger.

“No. I mean… it kind of glorifies like… being overweight don’t you think?”

Y/N thought she was going insane. How did she manage to have a friend who thought that way? How did she go all this time not realizing Rose felt that kind of hatred towards Y/N’s own body? She couldn’t help but feel a wave of embarrassment and panic.

Harry scrunched his face and sat away from her again. “No.” He stated bluntly. “Too many times in art thin bodies are glorified as some sort of ideal.” He argued and Y/N fell madly and deeply in love with him right on the spot because he wasn’t just speaking out of his ass. He wasn’t just blindly following some trend. He poured all his love into his work and he meant every word. “That’s more damaging than the small selection of art focused on trying to correct the way we view beauty… don’t you think?”

Y/N wanted to bow down to him. To sing his fucking praises. To get down on her knees and kiss his fucking shoes.

Rose stared at him a bit stunned for a moment before she glanced at Y/N like her friend might help dig her out of the hole she was in with Harry. But Y/N did no such thing. So, Rose shrugged and put her phone down.

“Guess I never thought of it like that.”

“Right, um…” Harry started gathering himself and it was the first time within the past couple minutes he did something Y/N didn’t approve of. “Thanks for the chat. I’ll see you guys on Saturday.”

When he left, it was awkward between the two like some real truths had finally come out. Y/N didn’t blame Rose for what she said, she probably just genuinely didn’t understand it. She didn’t get what it was like. And frankly, neither did Harry. But at least he made an effort.

“Think he despises me now.” Rose downed the last bits of her coffee in one go.

“No. He doesn’t really seem the type to hate anyone.”

Rose rolled her eyes, “Well after I made a complete ass of myself, I’m sure he’s willing to learn.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, just a little. Because Rose did, in fact, make an ass of herself and Y/N was just glad she was painfully self-aware.

“You ready to go?” Rose asked, pulling her jacket from the back of her chair.

“Um, actually I’ll catch up with you later. I’m going to hang out here a little while longer.”

“You sure? It’s not safe walking home alone once it gets dark.”

Y/N nodded anyways even if Rose scared her a little with that harsh reality. “Yeah. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Okay well, be safe. I’ll be home trying not to murder myself.” Rose stood, looking genuinely disappointed in herself as she tugged her jacket on. Y/N didn’t really know what to say, so she just said goodbye and left it at that.

Although, within about five minutes of Y/N being alone in the cafe, she was leaving too. Tossing her nearly emptied cup into the bin on her way out of the cafe and then fast walking her ass up the hill again until she reached the studio.

She wasn’t sure what gave her the boost of confidence to trek up goddamned Justice Hill for the second time today, but she was here. And she was glancing through the windows to find Harry up at his front desk. His cup set aside while he focused on a mound of clay in front of him that roughly took the shape of some humanoid object.

Without giving herself time to second guess, she pushed through the front door and got his attention immediately.

He sat up a little straighter, opened his mouth and then closed it. Loosened the knot between his brows and then tightened it. All while she just stood at the back of the room catching her breath and just staring at him.

“Wh-” He started but it was too late.

She turned right back around and left again.

He pushed away from his chair and followed her this time, and went right back outside without a jacket and without his shoes on until he caught up to her before she fast-walked her cowardly ass back down the hill.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he grabbed her arm once he was close enough, luckily not having strayed too far off from the studio so that the lights on inside still illuminated her face when she turned around. “What was all that?”

She stared blankly at him. She had no clue what it was. She had a million things on her mind and the second she was alone with him it was like everything that wanted to come out just completely ditched her. Her head went empty and she panicked.

“I, um… thank you.”

He was even more confused. “For what?”

She blinked, shivering when the cold breeze got to her, “For what you said back there.”

He easily glanced right over her head, down the hill at the little coffee shop, wondering what had happened to Rose and why Y/N was alone now.

She took a deep breath and got his attention again, “I uh… to be honest,” she stared at her feet, trying not to distract her train of thought by his lack of shoes, “when I first saw your sculptures they made me feel… seen. If that makes any sense at all.”

“It does.”

She glanced up at him quickly, “Right well, um… I just wanted to say thank you.”

“I know… you told me that already.”

She nodded like she had more to say but never got around to it.

“What happened to your friend?”

Y/N twisted around slightly, glancing down the hill, “She went home. Which is what I’m going to do now… because I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night.” She cringed at her own rambling even though it made Harry smile.

He grabbed her hand when she turned to walk away from him however. “Actually um… would you mind if I walked you home? It’s not really safe, you know?”

She didn't even think twice before nodding. There was no way she could disagree to spending more time with him, especially not with the way he was smiling at her now.

“Okay, well, give me like two minutes to get ready… you can come in.” He walked backwards and grabbed the door of the studio, pulling it open for her. It was profound character development when he didn't cut in front of her like the last time he held the door open. Instead, they just shared loved-up smiles as she walked past him and into the warmth of the studio.

He walked up to the front of the room while she stayed in the back and quickly slid his feet back into his shoes. She watched him the entire time, too, while he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and pulled his fingers through his hair as he grabbed a set of keys from the top drawer of his desk.

When he returned to her end of the studio, it was with that same old smile, “Ready, then?”

After flipping the Open sign and turning off the lights, he locked the front door and they made their ways down Justice Hill together. It was just past eight-thirty now, and definitely a time of night she didn’t like walking alone in, no matter how much she tried to convince others she could handle it.

His knuckles brushed hers when they reached the bottom of the hill and when she glanced at him, he pulled his hands into the pockets of his jacket. She was reading way too much into things again. He’s your instructor, she reminded herself, he’s just being nice.

Even so, all the words they’d exchanged the day Rose had the flu flashed through her head again. Surely he didn’t talk to other students the way he had with her. He didn’t follow them on Instagram and slide into their DM’s, did he?

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself when they turned the corner onto Main Street, their backs facing the ocean as the temperature dropped.

She kept her eyes on the cement beneath her shoes and didn’t notice he was pulling himself out of his jacket until it was too late.

“Here,” he handed it to her, leaving him in just his long-sleeve.

“Oh… I’m alright. You’ll get cold.”

He shook his head and insisted, “I’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, she took it from him. It was a brown suede jacket that clashed horrendously with her outfit, but she wasn't too worried about that. Not as much as she was worried about it even fitting her. Swallowing and hoping for the best, she swung it around her shoulders while they walked and, by some miracle, fit her arms into it.

All the times she refused jackets from men because of her fears were a total waste.

He smiled and buried his hands into the pockets of his joggers, not exactly convincing her that he was, in fact, fine, but she wasn’t quite done obsessing over the scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses.

“So, um,” she started, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket as she desperately racked her brain for something to say after her mouth had opened without her being fully prepared to spark a conversation. When something finally came to mind, she praised jesus. “How long have you been sculpting?”

He chuckled and she swore she heard his teeth clattering. If she didn’t know he would refuse to take his jacket back, she would have already returned it. “Um… well professionally since I was nineteen.”

“And before that?”

“I apprenticed in a studio where we made pots and plates and stuff like that.”

“Isn’t that professional?”

He tilted his head, “Not really. I was still learning. I did traditional art before getting into sculpting when I was thirteen, and I was really bad at it for a long time.”

She was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, which he appreciated. He’d never really known her to think about what she was going to say first before she opened her mouth. “What made you want to make things?”

It was a good question, and one he never really thought about much. He hummed as they continued down Main Street, passing all the little shops that were just beginning to close for the night. “I don’t know really. Just liked making things I thought were beautiful, I suppose.”

That made her heart flutter. All the plus-sized women, according to Rose, he sculpted were things he considered beautiful. Maybe he didn’t actually plan on dating someone who wasn’t thin, but it was the thought that mattered.

“I guess um,” he continued when she was silent, “I got into sculpting people about three years ago. My first attempts were worse than yours so I gave up on it. But then…” he trailed off and right when she glanced at him to ask him to continue, he did, “I met this girl and I fell in love with her and she convinced me to try it again.” He smiled at the memory. “I made her model for me and taught myself by watching videos so I could get her face just right.”

“Are you still together?”

His smile faded, “She…” he huffed, his eyes dropping to the ground and Y/N prepared for the worst when he opened his mouth again, “she had cancer.”

There was a sharp pain in her chest, like someone dug their fingers in and slowly ripped her heart from its cage. She didn’t know what to say and ended up saying the most useless thing to say to someone in his situation.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “It’s alright. But I think what I make now… it’s because of her.”

Y/N nodded and then mumbled about them needing to cross the street at the next light.

Once they were on the other side of the road and headed into her neighborhood on Saltwater Avenue, he changed the subject. “So what do you do for a living?”

She sighed, “I work in marketing.”

“Sounds like you hate it.”

Shrugging, she became very much aware again that she was wearing his jacket and that they were only three houses away from her house and she didn't want Harry to leave yet. “Sometimes… I just really hate capitalism, you know?”

He laughed, the sound of it echoing through the quiet neighborhood and making her shiver, not because she was cold, though, but because it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard, even more so than the other times she’d made him laugh.

“I do know what you mean, yeah.” He agreed, pulling his hands from his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest, “Why stay, then?”

“Well… I kind of have a marketing degree…”

He nodded, “So? A degree just means you’re educated. You can do what you want with it.”

She wasn't sure he knew how degrees worked, but it didn’t matter when she saw her front door fast approaching, “This is me.”

He stopped just as she did in front of the little beach house with white paneling and a bright red door. It was cute and the second thing he noticed after the door, was the barking from the other side of it.

“Think Max was missing you.” He said, just seconds before he realized what knowing her dog’s name implied. He didn’t even know why he said it, either. But he’d gone through one too many photos of her mini Australian shepherd that the dog almost seemed like his now too.

“See someone’s been stalking my instagram.” She lifted an accusatory brow while slipping out of his jacket as they stood in front of her picket-gate.

“S’only fair.” He retorted, bringing up the ghosts of her past that made her internally cringe again.

Handing his jacket back, she rolled her eyes, “Touché.”

He took it, folding it over his arm as a quiet moment passed between them.  Then finally, he glanced up at her front door and then back to her, “Well, um, it was nice talking. I’ll see you Wednesday?”

He glanced at her lips while she nodded, while she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it. It would be the most cliche way to kiss her, if he even had the guts to do that. He had to repeatedly remind himself that… well… nothing. He had no reason not to kiss her, he supposed. Other than her not wanting him to. And he didn’t have the guts to ask her if she would want that.

“Yeah, Wednesday.” She confirmed, giving him a polite smile before reaching around to open her gate and step into her small front yard. She glanced at him before turning away to walk up the short path to her front door and then once more when she waved at him just before disappearing into her house. He waited until she locked her door before he left.

*                                              *                                 *

She fell into the trap of his Instagram again once she was in bed. It wasn’t to check if he’d posted anything new, though, it was to go back even further in his feed to see if he’d ever posted the sculpture he made of his ex-girlfriend. And it took quite a lot of digging, in fact, when she found herself at the very end of his posts. But it wasn’t in vain when she spotted the sculpted face amongst a bunch of old posts about vases and bowls.

Pulling the photo up, it was clear she’d found what she was looking for. Except, there was more than one photo. The first was of his completed sculpture, and according to his caption, his ex-girlfriend, Juliana, had already passed. She swiped left on the photo and was met with one of him and her. She had a beanie on, but it was still obvious Juliana had cancer. The thing that stuck out the most, however was that Juliana was not, in fact, thin. She was beautiful and had the same kind of body Y/N had and Harry loved her enough to sculpt her out of something he could keep forever.

Max jumped up on her bed then and pulled her out of her thoughts. Just the mere possibility of being Harry’s type filled her head with way too much hope. She clicked her phone off and set it on her bedside table. He had all the time in the world just now to make any sort of move and he didn’t. And there was a reason for it, she was sure. It crossed her mind a few times since he’d said what had happened that maybe… Harry was one of those guys that never moved on. She wouldn’t blame him, everyone grieved in their own way. She just felt horrible herself for hoping she had a chance with him when he’d been through something like that and probably wasn’t even emotionally available.

He hid it quite well if he wasn’t. Either way, as she pet Max while he curled up beside her, she completely convinced herself to give Harry some space.

*                                              *                                 *

Rose switched seats for the day to sit beside Julian, who she’d apparently been getting to know quite well the past week without Y/N’s knowledge. So that left Y/N on her own with the few others that sat in the very back of the studio. She leaned on her elbow and doodled on a scrap piece of paper while Harry gave another lesson. Most everyone was at the point of adding limbs to their bodies but Y/N had a really hard time focusing when all she could think about was Harry. And it didn’t help that the only voice she heard was his too.

Frankly, she’d feel like a complete bitch for telling him how she felt after learning about his previous relationship. Even if he had moved on and grieved, it still didn’t feel right. It felt like she’d be taking advantage of something. And with Harry in no hurry to tell her if he even liked her, she was stuck. And it hurt more than she’d like to admit.

She continued doodling while everyone listened, while she glanced at Harry, found him already looking at her, and then went right back to her piece of scrap paper again. She didn’t look up from it either, not when he dismissed everyone to get to work and not when he made a bee line, as nonchalantly as he could, to her table.

“So your friend has a boyfriend now?”

Y/N lifted her head just enough to glance Rose’s way and then retreated to her doodles without giving Harry any attention of his own, “Were you interested?”

His brows furrowed as he watched her, something so completely different about her than the last time they’d been together but he couldn’t figure out what. His eyes scanned down her arm and watched while she drew literal scribbles that he couldn’t make out into any solid thing. “No I was just… making an observation.”

She nodded absentmindedly and he grew frustrated.

He glanced to the people sitting beside her, making sure they were fully engrossed in their projects before he leaned in and whispered just for her to hear, “Are you mad at me?”

That finally pulled her eyes from the desk and onto him where she immediately shook her head, “No,” she said genuinely, hating that he’d gotten that impression. She didn’t want him to think she was mad. He hadn’t done anything. “Why would I be mad at you?”

He blinked a couple times and then opened his mouth but no words ever got the chance to come out.

“Harry! Can you help me please?” Another student shouted from the middle of the class and he turned around to assure that he’d be right there. And when he faced Y/N again, she was back to scribbling.

“If you’re not going to do anything here,” he began, “maybe you should go home.”

She stopped when he walked away. Her entire body immobile. He wanted her to leave. She wanted to leave. She hated that she was upset over what she was upset about and seeing Harry only made her hatred for herself that much worse.

While he preoccupied himself, she packed up her things and left. On her way down Justice Hill, she texted Rose that she wasn’t feeling well.

*                                              *                                 *

It was just past eight-thirty when there her doorbell rang and while she sat on the couch as Max jumped up to bark at the noise, she checked her phone to see if she’d missed a text from Rose saying she was coming over. With her phone empty of any notifications, however, she proceeded with caution.

She picked Max up, mid-bark, and opened her door after unlocking it to find Harry standing on her front porch looking at her with his brows furrowed as he ripped his fingers through his hair nervously.

“Harry what are you--?”

“I’m sorry,” he cut her off, “I’m not sure what I did to upset you, but I’m sorry that I did.”

She glanced down at his feet, finding his same old white vans that he’d recently cleaned all the scuff marks off of, before she faced him again, sighing. “You didn’t do anything, it’s just…” She paused, hesitating. When his eyebrow tilted curiously, she sighed and just came out with it. “I like you. And after what you said yesterday, I just felt stupid for thinking you were into me if you’re still dealing with that.”

He was stunned into silence for an entire five seconds until he cleared his head, “I’m not.” When he saw the way her face fell in disappointment, he clarified, “Still dealing with it, I mean. I’ve had another girlfriend since then. It was hard, but I did move on.”

“Oh.” She readjusted Max in her grip.

“And I am… into you.” He assured. “I was when I first saw you, but then… you opened your mouth.” He laughed optimistically and even though she pretended to be insulted, she couldn’t help but be embarrassed by her past self.

“God, I’m sorry for being so annoying. It was nothing personal, I just--”

He stepped forward and, to Max’s dismay, grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her. Without talking himself out of it this time, but he just didn’t want to listen to her be self-deprecating for one more second. She kissed him back once she was out of the initial shock, and brought her free hand up to the back of his neck to pull him in.

She took a couple backward steps until he was fully in her house and he closed the door shut behind him. Pulling apart for less than five seconds, they never took their eyes off each other as she put Max on the ground finally and then came crashing right back into Harry. The only sound apart from Harry’s moan around her lips as she pressed him into the door, was Max’s nails as he walked across the hardwoods to his spot on the couch again.

He broke away first, a few moments later, with his hands still on either side of her face, pushing her back and giggling when she pouted at him for doing so.

“Sorry, I just wanted you to stop talking,” he whispered while tucking her hair behind her ear softly, so much that just feeling the tip of his fingers on her skin like that gave her goosebumps.

“Well, you’re welcome to shut me up anytime you’d like if that’s how you go about it.” His forehead fell onto hers while he laughed and she did too, breathlessly like Harry had taken all of the air out of her lungs when he kissed her.

“I, um…” He mumbled once they were done laughing and then lifted his head again and began removing his hands from her, “I didn’t close up the studio so I have to go back.”

“Oh,” Y/N nodded, taking a step away from him, “Yeah, you should go do that. I have work in the morning anyway.”

“Can I see you sometime… before Saturday I mean?” He asked and her heart fluttered at just the mere prospect of seeing Harry outside of their regularly scheduled meetings. She’d gotten into the habit of looking forward to her Wednesdays and Saturdays because of him, and it was overwhelming to think of seeing him on a Thursday or a Friday.

“I get off for lunch tomorrow at eleven-thirty to twelve-thirty.” She offered, knowing she’d want to see him again before she was off of work at five. And then she rambled on about why that was her only free time. “I have meetings on Thursdays after work and then I’m too tired to do anyth—“

He cut her off again.

It was quick this time though, but when he pulled his lips from her it didn’t matter, because she stopped. “Eleven-thirty’s fine.”

“Okay.” Was all she said, even though in hindsight she probably should have kept rambling just to get him to kiss her again instead of what he did next.

Which was, reaching behind himself to grab the handle and ease her front door open.

“I’ll slide into your DMs later then…” he stepped aside and pulled the door open just enough to be able to fit himself out of and she stepped back to give him room to do so even if it made her heart ache to see him leaving. And when she seemed confused about why he’d be in her DMs, he clarified. “About where we’ll meet.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” She smiled at him finally and stepped closer again to grab the door from him while he stood in the space between it and her small front porch. They stared at each other for a brief moment, her looking up into his eyes while everything that just happened finally began sinking in and him, glancing at her lips before leaning down to kiss her one last time before he ran off.

[writingletterstothefire]

yin and yang

A/N: this is for @tintinwrites, she didn’t ask me for it but i was struck with ~inspiration. it’s really bad and i wrote it in two hours because i can’t pace myself to save my life. anyway, hi caitlin here’s your Din/Max poly relationship but no smut bc i don’t have the energy sorry love you bye

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mentions of sexual encounters, bad writing, Max Phillips existing

You didn’t know how you’d ended up in a relationship with the most serious man you’d ever met. Din Djarin was stoic, stern, and sexy as hell. He’d been a regular at your coffee shop for about a year before you’d worked up the nerve to leave your number on the cardboard cozy wrapped around his regular black coffee.

You didn’t know what he’d been doing coming to the shop you worked at when he suit cost more than a year’s rent in your shitty little apartment. Apparently, he was CEO to a very successful bounty company called The Mandalorians. His men were hired to seek out fugitives of the law, and they were paid a pretty penny to do it.

Needless to say, when you started seeing Din, he quickly became a sugar daddy of sorts. You didn’t ask him for anything, he was just...intuitive. He noticed when you needed money for groceries or rent, and he quietly slipped the money into your account. Six months into your relationship, he’d given you a platinum black card with no limit.

You had no idea how you’d gotten that lucky.

Now, what was even more confusing was how the two of you had become a thruple with the most frat boy of all frat boys. Max Phillips burst into your life when he hired Din’s company to track down his old college buddy Evan as a joke. The joke was that Evan didn’t know it was a joke. Neither did the bounty hunter assigned to catch him. You’d met Max when he was stopping by Din’s office with a payment, and it didn’t escape you how his eyes followed your form. You were in a cute little vintage dress with sunflowers all over it, and you knew you looked good in it. It drove Din crazy when you wore it, so you made sure to wear it as often as you could.

Even though you were in a committed relationship, you felt good knowing you could still catch a man’s eye. It was validating, in a way. So, you decided to be a little tease and give him a wink as you walked by.

What you certainly didn’t expect was for him to follow after you all the way to Din’s office. He’d started going off about how you were “such a pretty little thing”, and how you looked “way too model-esque to be working at a desk in a place like this”. That last one had gotten you to laugh.

“She doesn’t work here,” a gruff voice had interrupted. Din had appeared in the doorway of his office.

“Hi baby,” you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. His arms came around your waist.

“Is this guy bothering you?”

“No, it’s fine-”

“Listen, she winked at me-”

Din looked at Max briefly and then looked back at you. “You winked at him.”

It wasn’t a question. Din was aware that you liked to tease other men, and he didn’t have an issue with it. You’d discussed a threesome before, but the opportunity had never presented itself. Din raised an eyebrow at you, asking a silent question. Him?

You nodded sheepishly. He was cute. Very cute. And if he was down, he was the one you wanted.

Din looked up at Max, who was insanely confused by this whole exchange, and just said, “My office.”

The three of you shuffled in, Din sitting at his desk chair, you sitting at one of two chairs on the other side, and Max hovering by the door.

“Sit,” you and Din spoke at the same time. Din spoke gruffly, as if he was speaking to a frustrating employee, while you spoke sweetly, a smile on your face.

Max wasn’t sure if he should sit or not, but damn if your smile couldn’t get him to do anything you asked. So, he sat.

“Cyar'ika, would you like to explain or should I?” Din spoke, looking at you with his big brown eyes. Those eyes melted your heart every time he looked at you.

“You explain, please?” You blushed. You knew you couldn’t be embarrassed when you’d kickstarted this whole situation, but you couldn’t help but feel like a giggly schoolgirl at the prospect of what was to come, should Max agree. You watched as Din turned his attention to Max, silently sizing him up before speaking.

“She likes to flirt with men. She sets them up to flirt with her so that she can observe them and how they treat her. She’s been looking for a suitable candidate for sometime, and she’s decided on you.”

“A…suitable candidate? A candidate for what? To leave you?” Max had never been more confused. He’d stolen a lot of guys girlfriends, sure, but he’d never been interviewed to steal someone’s girl.

“Certainly not!” You exclaimed, as if you were horrified by the prospect.

“Then what-”

“Do you want to fuck me?” You said plainly, tired of dancing around the situation.

“Obviously,” Max looked at you like you were speaking another language. “You think I would’ve come into a room with you and Murder McGee over there if I didn’t?”

“Excellent! The only condition is that you share me with Murder McGee,” you grinned at Din. He rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“She’s asking if you’d like to have a threesome,” Din said, sounding as if he was exhausted. Honestly, he was more focused on you in that goddamn dress, and he just wanted to rip it off of you. The sooner he got you home, Max in tow or not, the sooner he could get you naked. He turned his impatient gaze onto Max, silently demanding an answer.

“Why the hell not,” Max smirked.

From that moment on, Max became a permanent fixture in your relationship with Din. He had the freedom to come and go as he pleased, and he was welcomed back with open arms.

Not that he often strayed. He talked a big talk, but you had him just as whipped as Din by the first night. The both of them were at your beck and call, each filling needs you hadn’t realized you had. Where Din was stoic, Max provided humor. Where Max was immature, Din was steady and strong, grounding you when you needed it.

That’s not to say you loved one more than the other, nor is it to say that either of them loved you more than the other. It was a surprisingly equal relationship, with each of you bringing out traits that helped to balance the other two.

Din and Max sometimes got on each other’s nerves, but it was never anything serious and it never lasted very long. It was more of a yin and yang. A push and a pull.

As in, Max wanted to push as many buttons as he possibly could, and Din had to pull him back.

For example, right now you were in the bathroom at the bar, and you had left your drink half full. Max was about to spit in it, knowing how gross you’d find it even though baby, we kiss every day and I’m literally inside of you every night why is this so gross to you—

But Din grabbed your drink before Max could do anything, and smacked him across the face for good measure.

“Did you just bitch slap Max?” You asked, sliding into the booth.

“He did, he’s so mean to me all the time. He abuses me when you’re not here,” Max gave you his best puppy eyes, sliding an arm around your waist.

You raised an eyebrow skeptically, then turned your attention to Din. “What was he doing?”

Max gasped indignantly, pulling back. “Why do you assume I was doing something-”

“He was going to spit in your drink again.”

This time your hand lightly smacked Max’s other cheek.

“Alright-” Max began.

“Nope, enough out of you. No blow job.” You crossed your arms.

“Baby-!”

“Nope.”

Max crossed his arms, pouting like a petulant child.

Din smirked, leaning over to kiss your cheek, and you smiled involuntarily, grabbing both of their hands.

You loved your boys, as much as they drove you up a wall sometimes. You’d never imagined feeling so loved before, but you were certainly glad you’d ended up here. They gave you everything you wanted, and you had more power over the two of them than you knew what to do with. It was intimidating, knowing these men would get on their knees for you in a heartbeat.

Now if only you could get Max to beg you for that blowjob.

[atinybitofau]

Y U N H O ↠ arranged marriage au

HOW FWB’S AND MARRIAGE CONTRACTS FIT TOGETHER.

warnings: cigarette smoking. implied mature content.

• he blows out a cloud of smoke.

• rarely thinking about his life decisions.

• today being one of those rare times.

• “Hey, you want some breakfast?”

• he turns to you while killing his cigarette.

• he thinks you look like a goddess.

• despite the dark bags under your eyes and crazy post sex bed hair.

• but he sighs and walks past you.

• not wanting to wonder about the beauty you hold for more than a couple seconds.

• “It would be nice if you answered once in a while, asshole!” he hears you call after him.

• he doesn’t hate you.

• hates the arrangement more than he hates you at least.

* “I thought we were having breakfast?” he asks while joining you at the table after an hour.

• you roll your eyes at him before saying, “From what I remember, you just shrugged. Meaning, you're a complete asshole with no feelings. So fuck off."

• he chuckles at that.

• loves your feistiness he has to admit.

• always found being home with you fun.

• that living with you was the bees knees.

• despite contradictions..

• “Feisty today. What’s the matter, daddy still doesn’t help out?”

• you sigh out of frustration, “I've been stuck on this stupid account for the past week and made absolutely no progress. He still thinks I can do this and I'm already giving up."

• “Want help?”

• “From you?” you scoff. “No thanks.”

• your relationship with Yunho was strict.

• strings attached and all.

• purely sex committed

• so you think.

• “Don’t you have a meeting with the Japan investors today?”

• Yunho shrugs drinking from his mug. “Eh.”

• “Do you ever get tired of slacking off, Yunho? For fucksake, we're getting married next week and you're still not being serious about even your work."

• "So you want me to be serious about us?"

• it’s rare.

• for the both of you to talk about your relationship.

• the future of it..

• that maybe you two really won’t last a minute in the marriage let alone in each other’s lives.

• always spited the other a little bit.

• but Yunho feels bad for you.

• feels bad to drag you into sex and fake smiles.

• fake pda.

• when he’s known your entire lives it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

• for a man to hold you and mean it.

• but..

• he can’t seem to find the honesty of it.

• of loving you that way.

• “No. Just do your job and keep our relationship the way it is.” you answer. “It’s tolerable enough.”

• he knows your lying.

• knows you too well.

• maybe he does love you.

• just doesn’t know it yet.

• (or in correct terms, in denial)

• now you’re drunk off your ass the minute you arrive home.

• so is Yunho.

• done celebrating two separate bachelor and bachelorette parties.

• with hearts on fire.

• brains buzzed to no end.

• next thing the both of you knew, you two were pinning each other to the couch,

• stripping like a bunch of college frat idiots on a saturday.

• wouldn’t able to do it if you two were sober.

• loved each other way too much to actually have sex when you two aren’t buzzed.

• thinking too much for it.

• he cares for you.

• loves you.

• you just want to be loved.

• but sometimes Yunho often falls short.

• “Breakfast?”

• same routine.

• it’s starting to take a toll on him.

• “No.”

• you blink this time stopped behind him.

• feeling fragile.

• and marrying him in a couple of days is starting to take a toll on you.

• “Yunho, do you want to marry me?”

• he stops in his steps,

• thinking that one cigarette wasn’t enough.

• your post sex hair making him crazy in two ways more than one this time around.

• “Why the fuck would you ask that this early in the morning?”

• “Why can’t I?”

• he rolls his eyes attempting to walk away when you call him again.

• “Don’t fucking walk away from me asshole. I’m marrying you against my will in the next couple of days and I’m not going to marry you under these circumstances.”

• “Then don’t!”

• you’re shocked.

• the way Yunho yells.

• answers you in full distress.

• fully red.

• fists clenched too.

• “Don’t marry me then. You don’t want to? I’m sure as hell not forcing you to.”

• “I’m asking you if you want to.” you mumble in response.

• he can’t answer that.

• afraid..

• he’s afraid it’d be too much.

• “I’ve got a meeting to get ready for.” he attempts to walk away like usual but somehow stuck in his place back facing you.

• you scoff and huff. “You’ve got a meeting. You? The one time I get the nerve to talk to you about this, you want to actually do your fucking job.”

• “Fuck off.” his voice snarls and he’s inches from you.

• hot headed and surely not ready for this conversation yet again.

• but you are.

• you’re ready to give it up.

• you and him.

• loving him not enough to get you to stay this far in.

• choking on the strings attached to him is what was happening to you.

• “Fuck— you don’t get to decide for me whether or not I’m doing my job.” he hisses back

• “When have you ever? As a man, as a chief executive officer, as my fucking fiancé, when. Have. You. Ever.”

• you two are like two fireworks that people think are dull.

• not going to go off even when lit.

• but something fires it the right way.

• and now you two are ready to burst.

• “I do my job as I think fit.”

• “As my fiancé, you fall short of that. I can vouch.”

• his chuckle’s fake. “As my fiancée, you don’t know me enough to vouch for anything.”

• you pull at his collar.

• in a less seductive way.

• more threatening than that of.

• “Yunho, you are the love of my life. The man I had always been tied to, you know that? How could I be dumb enough not to know you by now?”

• “Then what do you know? Hm? What the hell do you think you know about me?”

• his eyes have always been big.

• but boy is he goddamn blind.

• “That you love me. That you don’t work your ass off because you can’t stand my father as the president of your company. Can’t stand coming home to me after dealing with him. That you loved me since high school and never told me because you think I’d break.”

• well shit.

• maybe you did know more about him than he thought.

• “T-that’s not true.”

• “That you refused to marry me the first three months because you thought you weren’t good enough? Talked to your mom because you thought she chose me wrong. That she was wrong to think you loved me when she was really right. You’re trying to tell me that’s not true, Yunho?”

• he’s got a complex, Yunho.

• for being a bad guy in front of you.

• to keep you safe from love’s way.

• knowing well himself he can’t love properly.

• can’t live with himself if he steps out of line.

• if he hurts you while doing it.

• “Say you love me.”

• “No!” he pouts in dejection.

• “Jeong Yunho.”

• “No, I’m not gonna say I love you. That’s for bitches to say.”

• “Okay.” you press your lips together. “Then as a cold hearted bitch, I say I love you. Now you have to say it back.”

• you’ve always been a feisty thing, he thinks.

• too much sex appeal for your own good.

• too much appeal in general.

• but it’s a quality he also fell in love with.

• “I’m not saying it back.”

• “You will.”

• “No because I’m no bitch.”

• “Oh for heavensake—“

• you pull him down to your height and force a kiss.

• knowing well Yunho wouldn’t fight back.

• and he doesn’t.

• cause he’s got it all figured out.

• that you know him too well.

• he’s heavily breathing when he holds your cheeks in his hands. “Okay yes. I love you. God I love you. Hell, been dying to say that since I dicked you down the first time. Loving you since you started loving me.”

• you chuckle against his lips. “Well I can’t blame you. Loving me is as toxic as our relationship. As addicting as the cigarettes you put in your mouth every morning.”

• “Loving you,” he curves his nose against yours, buzzed alone by your morning scent and warmth, “is the best drug on the planet. Forbidden and detestable. And maybe enough for a cancer stick substitute.”

• you let him kiss you.

• hands wrapped around his neck.

• “Mrs. Jeong Yunho.” you mumble as he peppers you in sultry kisses. “Never thought I’d like the sound of that sober.”

• “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he whispers.

• “I’m already drunk.”

lmao unedited cause I worked ten hours today sorreh.

requested by anon

@atinybitofau

[forlornmelody]

Ionize

Rating: E (Smut with some plot, for flavor.)

Fandom(s): DC Comics, Supergirl (tv)

Ship: Supergirl/Livewire 

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   Kara Zor-El, under the influence of Red-Kryptonite, makes some surprising discoveries about herself, and her nemesis.

Note: Commission for @rookie009. Dude, thank you so much for commissioning me again, and again. My bank account and I are very grateful. 

----

“Whatever you’re up to, Girl Scout, I’m not interested.” Livewire takes one look at Supergirl and turns so her back faces her. One glance, and she thinks she knows everything there is to know about her. Just like everyone else. Because Kara Fucking Danvers is so predictable. She'd show her. 

“You sure about that, Leslie?”

Right on cue, Leslie whips her silvery mane, her eyes sparking with hate. “It’s Livewire, Blondie.” Who’s predictable now?

“Leslie, Leslie, Leslie.” The last one slides off Kara’s tongue like acid. “Getting bored in there, Leslie?”

Livewire’s fist slams into the glass, and it crackles with electricity. “Say that one more time.”

“And you’ll what, exactly?”

Her nemesis shakes with rage. “One day I’ll make you pay.”

Kara laughs darkly. “If you can get out of there, you mean?”

“Don’t you have a cat to rescue from a tree?” Livewire knocks her head back against the glass, and her eyes roll back like a snot-nosed teenager.

“Oh? That Cat? I threw her from a building.”

“Real funny.” 

Kara leans her arm against the glass, letting her breath fog against it. 

“You’re serious.” Livewire sits up and looks at her. Really looks at her. “Holy shitballs.”

“Supergirl?” One of “Hank’s” lackeys stops inside the doorway. 

Waving him off, Kara says, “Don’t worry about it. I got it covered.” God, how she hates the sound of her own voice. 

“Sure thing, Supergirl.”

Leslie’s still shaking her head, her mouth hanging open. “I must be dreaming.”

If she’s honest with herself, Kara’s heart is hammering against her ribcage. She traces her finger around the release button. “Are your dreams always this boring?”

Livewire rolls her eyes. “Ha. Ha. We both know they haven’t given you an access card.”

“You mean this access card?” Kara dangles it in front of Leslie’s face. If her eyes were wide before, now they’re ready to pop out of her skull. Before her mouth can even twist into a how? Kara fills in, “I punched out one of the guards.”

“You did not.”

Kara slides the card and pushes the button and the glass releases with a hiss. “Are you gonna keep arguing with me, or are you going to come with me?”

Livewire’s eyes narrow, and she drapes one arm over her legs. “Where’re we going, Girl Scout?”

Kara shrugs, turning her back and heading for the door. “It won’t be long before they realize you’re missing. Maybe the table in the interrogation room or the couch in the break room?”

Instead of walking, Leslie reverts to static, and she materializes in Kara’s path, inches from her face. “And we’re doing what in there, exactly?”

She could banter some more, but Kara’s bored and impatient. Stepping closer, she comes nose to nose with her, and the air crackles with charge. Funny, how she’s angrier than she’s ever been in her life but she’s still fucking terrified. But Kara isn’t going to let that fear decide anything for her ever again. “I know you want me.”

Leslie snorts. “Want you dead? Yeah. For a while now. What about it?”

Kara grins, circling her like a lioness and her prey. “All the jokes? Butch? Sapphic? You want up my skirt and you hate it.”

The air snaps and Leslie’s gaze pierces her like a laser. “Fuck you.”

Nodding slowly as if to a child, Kara replies, “Yeeeeah. So? Couch or table?

“I hate you.”

“Then why aren’t you running?”

Leslie’s mouth slams shut, and she rattles with rage. But it’s not a punch that slams into Kara’s face. It’s a kiss. 

Tasting Livewire’s mouth is like licking a socket. Kara’s lips tingle, and even more so her tongue. Her fingers twist into Leslie’s hair, the static making her fingertips twitch. “Damn, Girlscout. Didn’t think you had it in you.” She runs her hand down Kara’s front, the fabric of her uniform clinging to her fingertips and her palm. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Kara senses, knows, how dangerous this is, but she’s past caring. And honestly? Kara’s tired of being careful. Being safe. Fuck safety. Supergirl is the fucking Girl of Steel. She can handle it, can’t she? And that doubt lingering in her mind? Well, that’s what makes it fun. 

Kara doesn’t reply. Instead, she leaves Leslie’s mouth, kissing a trail down her neck, her lips buzzing at the contact. Leslie’s hands grip her shoulders, then the back of her neck and her head. Her fingernails graze Kara’s skin in a way she notices, but they don’t break the skin. Few things can. Maybe next time they can lace her fingers with kryptonite. If there’s a next time. Does she want a next time? 

“Y’know, mm. I pegged you for a virgin.”

Snorting, Kara runs her teeth across Leslie’s skin. “Yeah right.” Kara always has to be so careful with humans. But Leslie’s not merely human, is she? How much can she take? “You’d tell me if this hurt, right?”

Leslie pulls back, raising her nose in disgust. “You can’t hurt me.”

Kara gives her a look, then bites her neck. 

“Oh.” It’s harder than she’s done with her human partners, but still with barely any force applied. Licking her skin, Kara bites harder just a bit to the side of what will soon be a delightful little mark. The thought of leaving little marks all over her makes her thighs twitch. “Ah.” Mm. So not made of steel, but still pretty damn strong. Kara lets herself relax a little. 

Only to have Leslie drive her hand up her skirt. “How do you get this thing on and off, anyway?”

“Mm. A lot, ah. Of determinaaaaaa. Fuck.” Leslie’s probing between her legs, tracing her folds through her underwear and her goddamn tights, the static from her fingers making her jump. 

“Well, I’m determined to get them off, kay?” Leslie gets down on her knees, jerking one boot off and tossing it across the room. She looks up, scrutinizing Kara as if she’s an unanswered question, and then she takes her by the heel. Kara leans against the pedestal, quirking her head, only to watch as a tiny spark leaves Livewire’s fingertip and jumps across the bottom of her foot. 

The gasp leaves Kara’s mouth before she can stop it. Every nerve in her leg is on fire, in the best way possible, from her heel to her groin.

“You like that, Supergirl? Is that what you came here for?” Livewire chuckles. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

Wait. Leslie’s fucking the guards? “Who??” Livewire doesn’t answer, except to send another spark across her skin. Her other boot comes off, tossed to the opposite corner of the first. 

“Mm.” Leslie ducks under her skirt, peeling her tights off with her teeth. When they get past her knees, Leslie snags them with her nails, and tears them off. 

“Hey!”

Chuckling, Leslie replies. “Fair’s fair.” She tilts her neck to the side, showing off the twin hickies she left there earlier. 

The hammer of Kara’s heart has turned into a sharp thud, and she reminds herself to breathe. Sure, she’s had guys down there before. But this? Why does she feel so...naked with Livewire at her feet? 

Leslie licks up the inside of Kara’s thigh, hands splayed wide and grins just before the spark leaves her fingers. Kara’s skin twitches and jolts oh so very close to her clit. “Nng. God.” Her knees crumble, and Leslie holds her up. 

“God isn’t here, Girl Scout. Good thing, too.” Livewire whispers in her ear and her hair stands on end. “You wouldn’t want Her to see this.” Another spark hits her labia, all the better because of wetness pooling between her legs. Kara can’t even form words at how nice it feels. Being ravished by her is such sweet torture. Her nemesis bites and growls and nips at her ears and neck. Never has Kara felt so alive, and yet so close to dying from being so close but not yet. 

“Leslie…”

“Livewire,” she snaps, and does jolt between her thighs, bordering on pain. 

“Livewire,” Kara agrees. “Please.”

“Oh, so the good little girl wants it?”

“Nnn. Not so good anymore.”

“We’ll see about that.” One finger slips into her easily, and then another. “How much more can you take, huh?” And another, this one stretching her enough to make her gulp. “Do you want more?” Livewire twists and turns her, and fuck her, Kara’s humping her fingers, so close so close. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Getting there.” In goes Leslie’s pinky, and the stretch burns so good. Kara has no words, just her own drool dripping from her mouth. “Got room for one more?”

“Ah. Uh. Mm.” Kara shakes her head, then nods, and nods vigorously. “So... close.”

“Say it.”

“Fuck!”

“Close enough.” Livewire cackles, pulling her fingers out, pressing them together, and slipping them back in. “Fuck, you’re wet.” She pumps Kara with her fist, and Kara feels weak in her knees. If she holds onto Livewire, she’ll break her shoulder bones, so she grips the pedestal that holds Livewire’s cell. The concrete crumbles in her fingers as she screams in bliss. 

Kara catches her reflection, and sees her hair standing on end. Her lips swollen and bruised, still parted as they pant. Her cheeks flushed and glimmering with sweat in a way they never do, because Kara Zor El never has to exert herself on Earth. Her mascara and eye shadow smudged and streaked in such a way that won’t come off without a shower. Who is this girl in the glass, and what has she done with sweet little Kara Danvers? 

Two days ago, Kara would have laughed if someone asked if she liked girls. Oh please. Just look at me. What about this bubblegum pop girl next door makes you think I wanna get railed by a girl?? If Kara is honest with herself, which she fucking will be from now on--she’s wasted far too much time pleasing anyone but herself. 

Which is why when Leslie goes down on her, Kara doesn’t return the favor. It starts innocently enough at first. Oh, she’s just paying attention to what Leslie does so she can try the same on her later. Oh, she’ll just come one more time and then. 

Well. Kara’s been used by the DEO, by National City, by CATCO, even Cat Grant herself. Shouldn’t she get the chance to be the user? To use someone else for a change? She’s fucking earned it, hasn’t she? 

And God, Leslie is good with her tongue. She ravishes her, licks her clean, then goes down on her again, but this time with a charge. Kara can see the sparks jumping like static in the dryer, and she jumps with it, every time. 

“C’mon, Supes. At least let me catch my breath and drink some--.” Her hair flips and a water bottle appears in her hand-- “Water.”

“Hurry up. I’m almost coming again.”

“Yeah, again. Isn’t it my turn already?”

Kara’s lips twist, and she rubs her thighs together a bit needily. “Maybe I want to see you beg for it.”

Leslie smirks “Now that’s the Supergirl I know and l--” Her eyes widen, and she snaps her mouth shut. “--Loathe.” She says a little too quickly. 

“Uh huh. Forgetting something?” Kara spreads her legs, scooching to the edge of the pedestal, shivering at the hungry look in Leslie’s eyes. She’ll have to think on that revelation. Later. When she’s not having the night of her life. 

“Fine. But I get to come next time.” Kara nods, closing her eyes. Her legs squirm, nearing the edge of overstimulation, but she can’t stop--won’t stop now. “Ah. Ah.” She bites her lips, feeling the warmth of the sun without the light of it, the blissful nothing of space between stars. “Fuck,” she says, drawing blood from her own lip. 

“My turn.” Leslie stands, wobbling from having sat too long. She holds out a hand for Kara to take, and she takes it, only to hear the clatter of boots down the hall. 

“Time to go..” Kara whisks on her uniform,

“Seriously? What the actual fu--” The two of them stand in the sun of the Mojave, and Leslie has to shield her eyes.  

Kara shoots her a shit-eating grin. “Catch ya later, Livewire.” Maybe next time Kara will let her finish. Maybe she’ll let her do a lot of things.

[tangled23works]

No Time To Die

My @olicitytropes story continues. Hope you guys enjoy this update and if you’re fic writers yourselves, they have some wonderful Halloween prompts on their account that you can check out.

Read on Ao3

Or keep reading here

“Do you see them?” Sin whispered close to his ear.

 Oliver didn’t pay much attention to her question but he noticed her tone. Sin was afraid and trying to hide it.

 He was lying down on a filthy roof stalking the man rumored to have created the new drug that plagued the Glades. Sin had provided the information and insisted on accompanying him. Ever since her friend Max had died, she had been determined to bring down the man responsible for the whole operation.

 Count Vertigo was what they called him. A ridiculous name if Oliver had ever heard one.

 “Is there a way in?” Sin asked.

 “There’s always a way,” he replied, thinking once more of the island and his mentor’s teachings.

 There was only one problem. The ‘way’ was a narrow entrance on the right side. There was no cover and if the police entered, the armed men the Count had inside could take them out easily, one by one. Like the Battle of Thermopylae. Of course, since Oliver planned to crash this place alone the point was moot.

 Sin had tried to persuade him to call someone for help but he had refused with a grunt and a shake of his head. Another thing he had learned on the island; fighting alone meant no one could fail you. Relying on yourself, being the weapon was the best option.

 Even if you were facing a crazy drug lord and his minions.

 “I counted five guards while I was waiting for you,” Sin said.

 “Six,” he corrected. “There’s one on the roof.”

 Sin stared at him with admiration. The night was pitch black and the guard was barely visible. “What are you gonna do, Boss?”

 “Don’t call me that. And don’t interfere. Just stay out of my way.” His gruff order sounded harsh but the young girl must have realized that he was worried about her.

 “Head on a swivel,” Sin promised.

 Oliver gave her a short nod and started running in a low crouch across the roof. He had no intention of entering the warehouse through the front door. Ancient Greeks were masters of military tactics but they knew nothing about modern architecture. Reaching the end of the roof, he leaped across the gap and landed on the other building silently. 

 He approached the guard with stealth and precision. Snapping his neck was not difficult; making sure that the other man didn’t make any noise was the challenge. When he was certain that the guy was dead, he laid him down carefully and located the hidden skylight.

 Oliver knew that the moment he broke the glass he would bring a lot of unwanted attention to himself. And possibly Sin. That would not do.

 Thank God for ARGUS and their little tricks. Taking things from them was fun and his way of saying a big ‘Fuck you’ to Amanda Waller who had stolen a year of his life and put him back on goddamn purgatory. He pulled the round, unassuming device from his inside pocket and placed it on the glass. A strong laser beam cut through a circle just wide enough for a grown man to enter. Once it was finished, the glass didn’t fall down and make a ruckus but remained stuck on the device. You just had to hold it carefully and avoid dropping it yourself.

 Removing the glass and securing the device, he was now ready to enter. He paused only for a moment to make sure that no one was standing beneath him and then jumped into the hole.

 He landed softly and pulled his bow in one move. Someone came rushing at him in the dark but Oliver was ready. He used his shoulder to deflect and then his right fist to punch the man. His opponent fell but didn’t stay down. 

 Oliver nocked an arrow and growled, “Where’s the Count?”

 “I’m more afraid of him, than I am of you!”

 “Wrong answer.”

 Without further discussion, he shot him through the heart and sidestepped the dead body.

 Another guard heard the commotion and ran towards him, ready to shoot. This time he didn’t stop for questions. He took care of the problem quickly and reached the corridor.

 These men obviously knew who he was. And they weren’t afraid of him. Which only meant one thing. The Count was more dangerous than he had thought.

 No matter. The Hood had survived a lot worse.

 There! A door at the far wall. 

 Well, no point in trying to conceal his presence anymore. Oliver kicked it hard and calmly walked through.

 The sight he encountered was straight out of a nightmare. People were naked, dressed only in medical robes and chained together, working on a substance that he identified as the green drug both junkies and cops called Vertigo.

 “The Starling City vigilante? In my home?” The man that spoke had the gaunt look and crazy eyes he had once seen on patients in Arkham Asylum. “You humble me with your presence, you mighty avenger. Please allow me to welcome you. No need for arrows. We fight on the same side.”

 “Your side is money. We are nothing alike.” He knew better than to respond. But just the idea that he had something in common with that lunatic made bile rise in his throat.

 “You care for the Glades. You want the best for its people. You hate the rich as much as we do. We are not that different you and I.”

 “I don’t poison this city,” Oliver growled.

 The Count laughed. “Oh, Green One, the poison is just the symptom. You have no idea about the disease that is slowly killing Starling. But you’ll soon learn. When he’s ready.”

 “When who’s ready?”

 But the discussion was apparently over because the Count fired three times. Oliver shot an arrow towards the chain holding people, breaking it and jumped behind a leather couch. The men and women didn’t try to escape but moved all together like headless chickens getting in the middle of the bullets and arrows with no care in the world.

 It was horrible and as the sound of sirens signaled the police’s arrival, it only got worse. Oliver’s final coherent thought was of Sin waiting alone on that rooftop. He hoped she stayed out of trouble. And then there was no more thinking.

 Only fighting and surviving.

Felicity was pretending to sleep when her phone started ringing. Ever since she had discovered that her best friend’s brother was this city’s guardian angel, sleep had become a rarity. Needless to say, her job and nonexistent social life were suffering. She sighed and decided to ignore the call. It would probably be her mother who had no concept of the time difference between Starling and Vegas.

 The annoying ringing stopped. Promising herself to call her mother tomorrow night, Felicity punched her pillow into submission and wondered what Oliver was doing at that moment. Probably having fun kicking bad guys, jumping from buildings and shooting arrows left and right. Growling in frustration she kicked the sheets away. Would this torment never end?

 The phone rang again. Felicity gave a small scream and reached for her glasses. It was too late in the evening (or too early in the morning to be exact) to deal with her Mom’s stories about rich customers and semi-famous celebrities or - she shuddered - questions about her dating life.

 Great, now she was rambling in her head.

 She picked up without looking at the screen. “Mom I love you but 4 o’clock is not the time to discuss potential boyfriends or-”

 “Felicity Smoak?” a deep, male voice asked.

 “Who’s this? How did you get this number?” She knew she sounded angry but if there was one thing that Felicity was paranoid about, was her identity. Very few people had her phone number and even fewer would dare to call her at this hour.

 “We have a mutual friend.”

 “Are you calling from SCPD? Because I thought that Roy’s thieving days were over. Oh Google, don’t tell me you’re calling from the hospital? Who’s dying? Is it my Mom? Thea? O-” She stopped herself before uttering that last name.

 The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Sounds like our friend was right to ask me to contact you. You’re worried about him.”

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, even though her nerves were shot and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

 “Do you know the Queen Steel Factory in the Glades?”

 “If it’s on a map, I can find it.”

 “Good. Come as fast as you can. Try the back entrance. The code is 1141.”

 “That’s a lousy password. I could break that in my sleep,” she said and realized that the man had already hung up.

 It took her brain a few moments to freak out about everything. Possible scenario number 1: he was injured, dying on a table, hidden in an old steel factory. The agony that pierced her heart was short but hurt like the devil. Possibility number 2: the man that called was an ally and Oliver had made him call her for help. But what kind of help was she? She was not a doctor and she was definitely not a fan of pointy things. The only skills she had were her smarts and her computer knowledge. What good would that do if he was dying, dammit? 

 She didn’t know but she got dressed as fast as possible. 

 Felicity didn’t have any trouble locating the old Queen steel factory. It was deep in the Glades, on the other side of her home which was located in the gentrified part of the neighborhood. She turned right and parked as close to the back entrance as possible. Taking out her pepper spray, just in case, she pushed the buttons and the heavy metallic door opened easily.

 “Hello?” Her voice echoed in an empty stairwell.

 Pepper spray in hand, she got down the stairs carefully. Somewhere in the back there was water dripping and some kind of machine making a beeping noise. If he was actually hurt, a hospital would be a much better choice than this damp, unsafe environment.

 “You must be Felicity,” a voice said as soon as she reached the bottom. Jumping a mile high, she nearly got scared out of her skin but she was proud that she managed to swallow her instinctive scream.

 The man, staring at her with open curiosity, was built like a mountain.

 “I’m John Diggle. You can call me Dig.”

 She nodded even though she didn’t care much for introductions at the moment. 

 “Where is he?”

 Dig pointed towards the middle of the room where a long, metal table was located. A young girl, no more than 25 years old was lying on it.

 Felicity tilted her head. She had no idea who the girl was but she appeared to be seriously injured.

 “That’s Sin,” Dig explained. “She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

 Curiosity appeased for the moment, Felicity repeated her earlier question. “Where is he?” It was irrational but she wanted to see him with her own eyes. Only then she would be satisfied.

 Dig sighed and led her towards the back where a half-naked Oliver Queen was performing upside down crunches. His torso was glistening with sweat, his back muscles were straining but he didn’t stop. Not even for a second. 

 “She’s here,” Dig said but Felicity would bet her new TX processor that the warning was unnecessary. Oliver had a sixth sense where she was concerned. He had probably known she was there way before Dig did. He did a hundred more repetitions without pause before acknowledging her presence.

 “Why am I here, Oliver?” she asked, deliberately using his name.

 For the first time, since she had arrived at this lonely basement he turned and looked at her.

 “The police are on my tail. Constantly. I want to know why.”

 “Can you elaborate?”

 “Did you see any patrols when you drove here?”

 “Well yes, but Lance is obsessed with the Arrow and it’s not weird that-”

 “Arrow?” Dig asked, raising both eyebrows.

 “Not the time,” Oliver snarled and grabbed a towel. Rubbing his body, he focused on Felicity. “The night of the party…”

 A sudden roaring in her ears made her miss a little bit of his speech. That night was engraved onto her memory. It was both terrible and hauntingly beautiful.

 “...Lance always seems to know where I am. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to catch a break. If I lay low, he lays low. If I’m dressed in green, he’s always behind me, nipping at my heels.” He threw the towel on the ground, viciously. “Walter always said that you’re the best. That you could hack the FBI if you wanted to. I know I’m asking a lot but today they came this close to catching me and now, someone else is paying the price.”

 His voice had dropped several octaves as he looked at the sleeping girl. And Felicity saw clearly what he had been doing earlier, hanging from the ceiling like a bat. Not exercising or trying to calm down as she had originally thought but punishing himself.

 She put her bag down and turned towards the computers.

 “Hacking the SCPD is a serious waste of my talents, Oliver. I’m not thrilled. I don’t think Batman is asking Oracle to hack GCPD, is he? She’s probably looking into the freaking NSA while I’m here-”

 She stopped suddenly and whirled around to glare at him.

 “Oliver Queen what have you done to these poor babies? This system looks like it came from the 80’s! And not the good part of the 80’s like leg warmers and Madonna… No, it looks like-”

 Placing a hand on her shoulder, he cut her before she could continue. Felicity fixed her glasses. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Why did she have to go on a tangent? She had been doing so great so far! Being invited into his secret lair in the middle of the night, she had one zillion questions about him and the young girl and Dig and she had managed to keep her mouth shut and not ask anything. Then, just a look at this horrible abuse of technology and she couldn’t help herself.

 “I’ll get on it,” she whispered and focused on the task ahead.

Thirty minutes later and after the men indulged in a sparring session that provided the background music to her work, she jumped and yelled, “Yes!” so loudly that both of them came running.

 “What did you find?”

 Oliver’s voice reached her first.

 “Lance has a spy.”

 He shook his head.

 “Not possible. No one knows about this.”

 Felicity scoffed. “Your friends know. I know.”

 “I don’t have friends.”

 She threw her hands in the air. What a stubborn, stubborn man! She justified using two ‘stubborns’ because one wasn’t enough to describe him.

 Dig didn’t comment but made a motion with his hands to show that she should ignore him.

 “You said that Lance’s pursuit became worse after the mansion, right?”

 “Yeah,” he confirmed.

 “Did you happen to have any run ins with the law before the party?”

 He narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I had one just before I arrived at the mansion.”

 “Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oliver cocked his head, clearly confused.

 “You want answers? Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oh, she was enjoying this so much! It was so much better than de-spamming email addresses and pretending she was a blonde bimbo so that her stupid boss wouldn’t be offended by her intelligence.

 Oliver brought his green suit and gave it to her, albeit a bit gingerly. She patted it down and discovered several hidden pockets that held all kinds of things but not the thing she was looking for.

 “Is that all?” she asked. Frustration colored her voice but she was sure her instincts were right. She just had to prove it.

 “What about the quiver?” Dig chimed. “Didn’t you have it with you?”

 “Quiver?” Excitement returned with a vengeance.

 Oliver turned towards a glass case. Felicity rolled her eyes and whispered to Dig, “Is the glass case really practical or is it a necessary accessory to the vigilante lifestyle?”

 Oliver didn’t respond but the slight upturn of his lips indicated that he had heard her. He gave her the quiver but removed the arrows explaining that some of them were so dangerous that they could set off a minor explosion and seriously injure her.

 Felicity nodded but didn’t pay much attention. Her hands patted down the leather and admired the practical design. Whoever had built that was obviously a master of his craft.

 “His name was Yao Fei.”

 “Who?”

 “You were mumbling about the man who made this. The quiver was his. So was the bow.”

 She was staring at him in complete surprise when Dig’s forced cough pulled her out of her reverie. Yao Fei? It was the first time she had ever heard of him. Could Oliver have met him on the island or in a totally different place? And what possessed Oliver to actually tell her about him?

 Obviously, she was not the only one surprised. Dig was looking at his friend as if he had never seen him before.

 “Yes!” she shouted and pumped her fist in the air.

 While her brain had been focusing on the riddle that was Oliver Queen, her hands had found what she had been looking for.

 “You don’t happen to have a Faraday cage in this establishment, do you?”

 “A what?” Dig asked.

 “It’s a literal cage that can block electromagnetic fields,” Oliver answered before she could. “Which means that… You found a bug?”

 The last word was said so calmly that it scared her. Growly Oliver was a sight to behold but it didn’t faze her. Calm Oliver was terrifying.

 “They must have planted it on you during the fight.”

 Dig crossed his arms and looked skeptical. “If that thing is a bug then why hasn’t Lance swarmed this place?”

 Felicity examined the small device. It gleamed in her hand.

 “This is the Sniffer 2000. It’s an old version of a very dangerous tracker that the military uses often. This baby shows a general location but not exactly where you are so after a while it became obsolete. Of course, the Starling police department is so underfunded that there’s no way Lance could get something more expensive. Or reliable. That’s probably the only reason why you aren’t wearing cuffs now.”

 “Okay,” Dig said. “I’ve heard enough. Let me get the hammer and-”

 “No. Give it to me.”

 Felicity closed her hand. “Listen, Oliver. If you’re going to do something stupid then we should discuss it first, don’t you think? The three of us might come up with a better plan.”

 He took a step forward.

 “There’s no ‘three of us’. I work alone. And my plans are never stupid.”

 Dig fake-coughed to show his disagreement.

 “Fe-li-ci-ty. Give me the bug.” 

 He was still speaking in the same self-possessed tone that was freaking her out. They were standing too close, almost touching and she could feel him. A serene front but underneath there was anger. The Hood was fighting the city’s worst criminals while the police were chasing their tails. A young girl had gotten hurt because of a man’s personal vendetta. A girl under Oliver’s watch. No. Anger was too small a word. 

 Rage fit better.

 “Promise me,” she said before she could stop herself.

 He narrowed his eyes.

 “Promise me you’ll come back.”

 Before she could berate herself for the utter stupidity of trying to exact this type of promise from him, he nodded slightly and took her hand. His gloved fingers caressed her skin, pushing her fingers open, making the hair on her arms stand up. His movements were so gentle that she felt like crying. Again.

 Watching him take the bug, put on the suit, place the arrows back in the quiver and grab his bow without speaking was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

 He walked towards the metal staircase but turned back at the last minute.

 “Dig. Take care of her.”

 Dig didn’t argue and took a step towards Felicity.

 They watched him leave, both standing in an uncomfortable silence full of tension that Felicity would have normally tried to break with a thousand-word babble. 

 Turning towards Dig, she clutched his arm harder than she meant to.

 “He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?”

[inglourious-imagines]

The Meaning Of Vat '69 (Lewis Nixon)

Summary: Lewis Nixon gets really angry when he finds out someone drank his favourite whiskey. It turns out it was you and that changes the whole situation.

Author's Note: I had this written for some time already so I thought I'll share it with you guys 'cause I've been busy and don't have much time to write requests (they are on the way don't worry and you still can send me your ideas). Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines

.

.

.

"Holy mother, fuck!" she cursed under her breath probably for the millionth time. "What is it now?" Richard Winters laughed as he absently stared out of the window. 

"The paper work is really getting on my nerves, Dick. I just wanna go and have fun with the boys. I promised Babe that we're gonna have some kind of a darts competition." she confessed and sighed while running her hands in her hair. A pack of cigarettes landed on her desk and her eyes met with Dick's grin, "You need them more than me." She thankfully placed one between her lips and hid the box in her right pocket. Lighter. First drag. First delightful moan escaped her lips as she blew out the cigarette smoke.

"I can make you moan better than that." Lieutenant Lewis Nixon's voice could be heard from the door. She turned her head to him and rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Go fuck yourself, Nix." 

It wasn't like Y/N disliked him, definitely not. She found him rather good-looking and very fun to be around, damn he was attractive as hell and she knew it very well. That was probably what made her sound so upset. She hated the fact she didn't hate him. 

Lewis on the other hand wasn't sure about his feelings towards her. He always flirted with her no matter what, he sometimes complimented her but it was more of a distraction to him than a serious thing. But the more he did it, the more Nixon realized that it's actually true.

"You might wanna help me with that?" Lewis just couldn't help it and then burst into a heartful laughter. It was probably the most beautiful thing she'd heard today.

Or in a week, who knows.

"Will you ever shut up?" she laughed but managed to roll her eyes as usual.

Lewis placed a bottle of his favourite whiskey on her desk and ignored her question, "The nature's calling. Don't miss me too much."

As soon as he left the room, Y/N reached for the bottle. "What are you doing?" Dick asked with a small grin on his face. "Let's just say I'm settling accounts. And besides, I need a goddamn drink." With that, Y/N drank what was left in the bottle.

•••

Y/N was looking outside of the window when she heard a pretty angry voice, "Who the fuck drank all of my fucking whiskey?!" 

"I don't know. Maybe Dick?" she tried to play innocent. Richard wasn't even in the room anymore as he needed to take care of some matter. The tension rised up.

"So you're saying that the responsible nondrinker Winters drank the rest of my goddamn alcohol?" he looked at her with narrowed eyes. He slowly began to walk towards the girl.

"You're so smart, Lieutenant. It's almost hard to believe it." Y/N teased him once again and her Y/E/C met his deep brown. 

Lewis was now standing what seemed like centimetres away from her. She felt his breath on her face. 

"Let me drink what's left of the magical liquor." he almost pleaded and took one last step closer to her. His eyes landed on her still wet lips for a few seconds.

"You should finally give up this bad habit of yours."

Lew sighed and stepped back. He was tired of trying.

"But I won't tell anyone if you sin one more time." Y/N almost whispered.

And there she was - kissing the hell out of Lewis Nixon when just one week ago she'd only kiss the hell out of his Vat '69.