#yes it’s another edit to another song called tonight

[atomicradiogirl]

house & wilson, season 6 - tonight

[eiightysixbaby]

the boy is mine (leah’s edition)

my little slice of input for @carolmunson’s writing challenge 🩵

cw: best friend!eddie x fem!reader, kissing, a couple flirty comments, nothing else really just fluff! (1.9k)

prompt rules: the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer. props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" // "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." // “and you like that?" // "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."

Your heart is thrumming excitedly in your chest before you’ve even thrown your car into park. The sun is just starting to set, blanketing the trailer park in a cozy golden hue. The air is sweet when you step out of your vehicle, and you take a deep inhale to calm your giddy body.

You don’t need to be inside the trailer to hear Eddie’s guitar. The melodic sound of his acoustic’s strings dance in the summer evening’s breeze, carried right out of his window and into your waiting ears. You smile to yourself, looking down at where your sneakers flatten the grass with each step you take. Climbing the front steps and nearly knocking, then deciding you never need to knock at Eddie’s, you swing open the trailer’s door with a gentle pull. There’s a squeak of its rusting hinge, a sound you’ve grown entirely used to, and it protests once more as you close the door behind you just like you knew it would.

“Ed?” you call out, toeing off your shoes in the doorway.

He doesn’t hear you, which doesn’t surprise you. Knowing him, he’s completely lost in whatever song he’s trying to learn. If you’re lucky he’ll have actually remembered your plans tonight, and you won’t walk in on him butt-naked or something.

The trailer is bathed in warm lighting, the lingering scent of a cigarette hanging in the air. You trail down the hallway, fingers fidgeting with each other as you go. His door is already open a crack, but you give a gentle knock anyways.

The smile he gives you when you appear in his room is radiant, his eyes so fond and eager to see you. He sits cross-legged on his bed, hair pulled loosely off of his face. He looks beautiful, as he always does.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets you, a pet name you’ll never tire of hearing from his lips. “Sorry, I promise I didn’t forget you were coming, I just kind of got distracted playing—”

“It’s okay, Ed,” you cut him off, sitting on the floor at his feet. Your chin rests on his knee, looking up at him. “What’re you practicing?”

“Well, uh,” he starts, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s new. Something I wrote.”

“Oh?” you perk up, curiosity peaked.

“I haven’t perfected it yet, though. Honestly I’m not sure if it’s even any good,” he continues, his face reddening slightly. You notice him reach out to grab the notebook that sits beside him, holding it protectively. That’s his lyric book, you know it is, because he usually lets you flip through it whenever you like.

“Hey, don’t be like that. You’re good at songwriting, Eddie.”

“You just say that cause you’re my best friend, ‘n you have to,” he rolls his eyes, smiling fondly at you despite it.

“That’s not even true!” you defend. “I mean, yes I am your best friend, but no I’m not saying it because I have to.”

You look at him so earnestly, your voice so sincere, it nearly makes him crumble. You stare at each other for a moment, something hanging in the air between you, before he clears his throat.

“You, uh, you want anything to drink? It’s been hot as tits out there all day,” he says, standing up and laying his guitar flat on his mattress.

“Did Wayne make any more of that lemonade?” you ask, looking up at him hopefully.

He laughs, a bright little sound. “Yeah. Knew you’d want some, so I asked him to make another batch. C‘mon,” he says, holding his hand out for you to take.

He hoists you up from your spot on the carpet, not letting go of your hand on your journey to the kitchen. You can’t help but yearn for the warmth back when he eventually lets go, opening the fridge and pulling out the pitcher. Perching yourself on the countertop, you watch as he rummages around for glasses.

“I ran out of like, nice cups. Is this okay?” he asks, presenting you with a red plastic cup with a Care Bear on it. Somehow, after coming to this trailer weekly for over a year now, you’d never seen this.

You snort, accepting the now-filled plastic kid’s cup. You rotate it in your hands, marveling at it. “I didn’t take you for a Care Bears type-a guy,” you wiggle your eyebrows, taking a sip of the sweet and sour liquid.

“Oh, fuck off,” he says, though there isn’t a hint of anger in his tone. He smiles while he says it, pouring his own lemonade into a coffee mug.

“Listen, I’m just saying. They’re very like, sunshine and rainbows! Happiness and love!” you say, pitching your voice higher and waving your hands as you speak.

“Okay? And?”

“And you like that? Forgive me for being taken aback that you, Edward Munson, lord of all things dark and off-putting, are a Care Bears enjoyer.”

That glorious laugh leaves him once more as he moves to stand beside you, his back pressing against the counter and his side brushing against your thigh. You flush at the contact, trying to keep your composure.

“Okay, well, first of all,” he starts, looking at you with a tilt of his head. “It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. There’s literally a bear called Grumpy Bear. Y’know, he’s got the rain cloud? He’s always like, super pissed and mopey.”

“One angry bear doesn’t take away from the overall happiness of the show,” you inform him, earning a scoff from him. “And, the bear on this cup is literally Tenderheart Bear. You own a cup with the leader of the happy bears on it.”

“What’s wrong with Tenderheart Bear?” he asks, holding a hand over his heart as if he’d been mortally wounded. “He initiates all of the new bears, makes them feel welcome. Tenderheart Bear is to Care-A-Lot what I am to Hellfire.”

You laugh, nearly spitting your lemonade all over the kitchen floor. “I know you did not just use that analogy.”

“Oh, I so did,” he says, raising his eyebrows so they’re hidden behind his bangs. Setting his cup down, he moves to stand between your thighs, palms gripping the counter on either side of you; caging you in. “And if you don’t stop dissing the Care Bears, we’re gonna have a problem.”

You’re probably meant to laugh, to shove him away or keep mocking him or just anything that keeps the mood playful. But instead your focus goes entirely to the warmth of his body pressed right up against yours. Your lips part, attempting to get words out but failing, your gaze moving between his gorgeous brown eyes to his mouth and back again.

He scoots in a little bit closer, you feel it, and you watch the way his tongue wets his lips. His eyes don’t leave your face, neither of you saying a damn thing as that unspoken something once again hangs between you.

He speaks suddenly, then, his cheeks pink. “You know, uh. You know that song I was working on?”

You nod, still utterly unable to pull words from your brain.

“It’s about you.”

Your eyes soften, your heart pounding inside your chest. “What?” you ask gently, seeking out more.

“It’s about you. I wrote a song about you. Because I can’t stop fucking thinking about you, every second of every day. And not in the way friends think about each other, this is like, so totally breaching the lines of friendship—” he rambles, no longer making eye contact, gesturing with his hands as he goes on.

“Eddie,” you interrupt, yet he keeps talking. You giggle to yourself, speaking louder this time. “Eddie!”

He stops. He almost looks… scared? Like if he stops talking, if he leaves room for you to respond, you’ll make fun of him or get mad or leave. Or all three.

“I think about you, like, every second of every day.”

“Not in the way that… friends do…?” he asks, his eyes so full of hope it makes you want to scoop him up and never let him go.

“Not in the way that friends do. Definitely not in the way that friends do. I wore this top today hoping you’d think my tits look good in it, so,” you joke, admitting some of your own vulnerability to take the pressure off of him.

And he laughs, softly at first, then a booming, wonderful sound. “Your tits do look good in that top. I thought that the second you walked in,” he grins, covering his eyes with his fingers, peeking through two of them.

You start to laugh with him, until tears are coming out of your eyes, your foreheads pressed together. His hands reach up to cup your face, noses touching.

You smile, getting out the last of your giggles as your lips nearly brush so many times. Up close he’s prettier than ever, you can’t even count how many times you’d wished you could pull him this close and kiss him breathless.

He makes your dreams come true when his mouth meets yours, so tender and warm as your lips move together. It feels like your heart stops for a moment, only to immediately restart when his fingers card themselves through your hair, deepening the kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he takes the hint, scooping you off of the counter and walking you over to the couch. Your head rests on the plush throw pillow, the one you know to be embroidered by one of the neighbors who has a little thing for Wayne.

His weight presses on top of you, your body dipping into the cushions beneath you. It feels surreal, kissing your best friend. It also feels right, like maybe you should’ve been doing it all along. You can hear the crickets chirping in the grass outside, the ambient summer sounds waltzing in through the window. It all makes you feel so safe, being here with him on this cozy evening. There’s no doubt in your mind that this is where you should be. That this is how things should be.

His tongue parts your lips, slipping into your mouth as a content sigh escapes you. Your hands tug his hair out of its ponytail before your fingers tangle themselves in his curls, swirling your tongue around his. He tastes like vanilla frosting, a guilty pleasure food that he’ll eat by the spoonful when no one’s looking. You know he’s always got a tub in the pantry, and it makes you smile into the kiss to think about him indulging in his secret snack.

When he finally pulls back for air, his eyes hold so much adoration. You both just stare at each other for a moment before bursting into what feels like your millionth fit of giggles.

“Eddie?” you say finally, your voice soft.

“Yeah, sweets?”

“Can I hear that song? I don’t care if it’s not done yet. It’ll be perfect, no matter what.”

“Yeah. I’ll play it for you. Come on,” he says, pressing one last peck to your lips before he’s dragging you back to his room.

You grab your forgotten cup of lemonade on the way, smirking to yourself as you do. “I’m totally telling Dustin about your Care Bear Hellfire thing, by the way.”

“No you are not!”

[banquetwriter]

Can you do a Johnnie x reader like you go to one of Tara’s parties and it’s just you guys having fun and going home together and super cute

୨୧ Karaoke ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ reader is hungover a lil, cursing, drinking (nothing bad tho just a party) one kiss 🤭

summary: ʚ you share a first kiss with Johnnie at another one of Taras parties ɞ

Words: 2053

An: AHHH THIS WAS SO CUTE TO WRITE WE NEED MORE FLUFFY JOHNNIE STUFF!! i hope this is what you meant and i can def do one where it’s just y’all at home (👀)

SUPPORT ME

You could hear your phone ringing. You weren't sure where exactly. You felt the natural urgency to pick your it up. You opened your eyes, squinting at the sunlight that leaked into your room. You answered the phone with a creaky little “Hello?” you asked. Flopping on your back.

The tiredness of waking up suddenly filled your body. “Y/n? ARE YOU STILL ASLEEP?” Tara’s voice shrills through your phone. You wince holding the phone away from your ear in pain. “Yes Tara, I WAS still asleep until you called me. I am still hungover… I think.” you said rubbing your eyes, you felt something weird on your hands so you looked at them only to reveal dried crusty makeup… Perfect!

Falling asleep with your makeup on is super cute. “Y/n! It's 2 pm! You have my party later! You can be hungover tomorrow, ok?” she said. You hear rattling sounds, she is presumably setting stuff up while calling you. You take the phone from your face to reveal it is, infact, 2:13 pm. You put the phone back up to your face, sighing.

“Yeah I remember, don't worry,” you mumbled, turning over. “Ok good, and take care of yourself seriously, eat like a salad or some shit,” Tara says as you let out a little giggle at her words. “Will do Tara,” you say, finally standing up and stretching.

“Bye y/n.” you hear her say before the call ends. “Mmmmm fuck.” you mumble to yourself rubbing your face, with your hands. You check your phone to see a text from Carrington asking if you are still collabing today.

“Damnit,” you mumble, pulling up the text chain. You confirmed the collaboration and suggested a video idea of streaming you guys trying the deli food from Erewhon for the first time. He agreed to the idea, you took a shower, got half ready, and filmed the stream with your friend.

All the comments talking about just how rough you looked were not helping your confidence any. You knew that they were joking but still. It didn't make you feel very good or very motivated to dress cute for the party tonight.

A party where Johnnie WOULD be. And as stupid as it was to admit you wanted to impress him so much. So after the video was filmed of eating shitty and overpriced food you managed to pull yourself together to get ready. Hoping back in a shower to shave and go the full nine yards.

You put on a damn cute outfit that was sure to earn a few edits from your fans. You did your makeup and hair to your liking and the night was looking up. You frizzed and messed with the last strand of your hair before snapping a picture for your Instagram story.

You were feeling a little mischievous and decided to put a song in the background as one of Johnnie’s. You picked “Angel of Death” since you helped him direct that one. You posted the black-and-white selfie and audibly giggled at the thought of seeing him within the next hour or so.

You hopped into an Uber and eventually made it to Tara’s party. The bright lights and music created a lively and bright atmosphere. You set your bag in Tara’s room and made your way through the living room saying hi to all your friends.

Managing to get to the rooftop where Tara and the rest of the gang were. “Heyyyy,” you said creeping up behind your short friend. “Y/n!” she shouts, wrapping her arms around you.

You get pulled into a tight and warm hug, smelling the alcohol on her breath. “Y/n, what's up?” Sam asked, looking up from his seat on a couch. Fairy lights and another speaker were set up outside.

There were a bunch of people all packed into the smaller space. “I'm good, what about you?” you ask, taking a cup from the table. “Were good were good. We just heard about you being a little hungover this morning from Tara.” Sam said, squinting as he took a sip of his drink.

You faked a look of offense as you looked at Tara. She has a giant grin making her hand into a heart as an apology. “Tsk tsk. I was not hungover! I was just recovering from one the previous day, ok?” you say in defense of yourself as you sit next to Johnnie and Colby.

“Well, that's not what we heard,” Colby said next to you, holding his hands up. “I was hungover yesterday and these two dumbasses forced me to try 7/11 pizza so yeah this morning was a rough time ok?” you say pointing to Jake and Johnnie.

Jake’s mouth flew open in offense. “Woah ok the Pizza was NOT that bad.” he grabbed a bottle of alcohol pouring some into his cup. Johnnie let out a dry laugh beside you, you turned to him smiling. “Ok, y/n we believe you. And you didn't wake up next to that server we saw mmmm?” Tara said, moving her shoulder a little.

“Hell no I didn't wake up next to no fucking server. You're one to talk by the way,” you said, sipping whatever was in your cup. “Whatever,” Tara says as you settle into the couch.

The air was cold but there were heat lamps surrounding the terrace. The next warmest thing was Johnnie's body. He was so close to yours that you could practically feel his heat radiating onto your skin. “Was the pizza that bad?” Johnnie whispered into your ear.

“No not really but Jake woke me up at the ass crack of dawn to stream that so,” you whispered back. You could smell his cologne and the smell of cigarette smoke on him. You know that smoking wasn't a good habit but fuck he did look hot when he did.

“Hey, it was like 11 when we filmed that. It was not that early ok?” he said back his voice louder this time. Not that anyone noticed. Everyone else was absorbed in their conversations at this point. You giggle slightly at his words.

Your eyes look up to meet his. It's hard under all his hair and messy eye makeup to see his bright blue eyes, but you manage. You stare into them for almost too long. You close your eyes forcing yourself to look away. You’re scared you might have never been able to look away if it wasn't for the fact you were both at a party with other people.

Including all of your and his friends who would tease you both if you were gazing into each other's eyes. “Hey, I was hungover that day, ok? 11 is way too fucking early to be up hungover.” you say in defense of yourself for what feels like the millionth time this night alone, downing whatever was in your cup.

You inhaled sharply feeling the roaring effects of the alcohol as it burned its way down your throat. “Yeah, that's completely fair,” Johnnie says, moving his head slightly to move his hair. You purse your lips together moving your body to face the group again.

Johnnie stays looking at you, his shoulders now completely blocking your view of Jake. Not that you were complaining of course. The night moved on, and you didn't drink a lot, not trying to upset your stomach further of course.

By now you, Jake, and Johnnie were all doing some shitty karaoke downstairs. You of course had picked a PTV song and were attempting to nail the notes. After your throat was sore you handed the microphone off to Jake and sat next to Johnnie once again.

Jake had picked some Billy Joel song he and was failing miserably. You and Johnnie were both giggling away at his antics. You pulled out your phone to record him. “Oh god are you actually gonna post that?” Johnnie asks with a grin.

“Duh. Probably just put it on my Instagram story,” you said nudging him slightly. There is a beat of silence between you two before Johnnie speaks again. “Is there a reason you posted your picture to my song?” Johnnie asked.

Your hands, which were still holding your phone, dropped slightly. You felt a rush of heat flood your face as your brain short-circuited. Trying to come up with an excuse for your random amount of boldness.

“Oh- I just- I-” you stuttered out turning the video off. You felt like a fish out of water flapping around for any excuse you could think of. And thank whatever god may exist as your prayers were answered as Jake handed the microphone to Johnnie.

“What? Dude, I'm not singing.” Johnnie said, looking at Jake’s hand holding the microphone. “Duuuude!” Jake says dramatically slouching down, feeling the obvious effects of the liquor. “Dude you're literally a singer,” you say looking at him, your eyebrow cocked up.

“I-” he starts to speak before looking at his friend and then at you. You nod your head in encouragement, he closes his eyes with a sigh. “Fine,” he mutters, grabbing the microphone. He takes a few seconds to queue up a song.

You don't record this time. Just laugh with your friends as Johnnie attempts to sing a song. His eyes catch yours for a moment, and his voice breaks and slowly stops working. It seems like time slows down only your heartbeat can be heard

It feels like for a few seconds your worlds combined. The eyes that were watching Johnnie apparently caught up to him as he suddenly looked around the room. He tries to pick up the pace of this song and fails miserably. Completely missing half the words.

Your breath catches in your throat and you decide you need a break. You swallow deeply, stand up and almost run out of the room. You weren't sure what you were doing, just that you felt like your insides were suffocating.

You made it to the kitchen grabbing an empty solo cup and filling it up with water. You gulped down a few drinks of it before sitting up on a counter. You wipe a drop of water that fell from your mouth as footsteps alert you someone walked into the kitchen.

You turn to see that Johnnie is slowly creeping into the room. “Hey,” you said looking back down at your feet that rested against the cabinet. “Hey,” he said, walking around the kitchen island facing you. “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the opposite counter as you.

“Y-yeah I'm fine. Just got a little intense back there I guess,” you said gesturing to the living room where we both just were. “Did you really wake up with that server?” he asks, barely able to keep eye contact.

You laugh slightly “God no.” you mutter out once again looking down. “Tara And Kat were making a bunch of jokes about it but I was never into him don't worry.” you say trying to laugh it off.

He doesn't say anything, just slowly getting closer to you. You looked up at him. You feel your eyes lock again.

You don't shy away this time. You let Yourself hold eye contact. That familiar feeling in your face travels back in. Your breaths move at similar paces as he slowly shares your space.

You tried to speak but no words came out. You're glad they don't truthfully. Johnnie's hand slowly comes up and meets your face, holding your chin. He moves in between your legs and pulls your face in for a kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed as your lips meet. You swear you could hear fireworks exploding in your brain. He was so so so close, but you needed him closer. The cup was long abandoned as your hands reached up to pull his face closer.

It seems to work as his whole body moves next to you, touching you. His hand, the other one that wasn't holding your face steady moves to hold himself on the counter.

You're not sure how long it was before you moved away from him for a breath. You feel the heat in your cheeks move down to your neck and chest and you look down. “Wanna get out of here?”

[togrowoldinv]

Your Song

Rockstars!WandaNat x Female Reader

The best selling duo, The Scarlet Widow, goes on tour. You’re the manager who watches on and cheers for your women

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, fingering (W and N receiving) oral (W and N receiving), thigh riding, slight mommy and daddy kink, backstage sex

Note: The rockstars are backkk. The Scarlet Widow is another edition of these ladies. Enjoy this one!

WandaNat Masterlist, Main Masterlist

Tonight is opening night. The Scarlet Widow is finally touring again. The two women had taken a few months off to write new music and formulate the perfect set list.

And during that time, the three of you have become quite acquainted with each other. You spend a lot of your evenings with the women.

It’s suffice to say that the three of you are in love. You never imagined it could or would happen this way, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

Before the show, Wanda and Natasha took some time alone to mentally prepare for their set. They may fight a lot backstage, but they take their show seriously.

And it sells. The arena is sold out tonight.

The two women electrify the stage as you watch them from the side. When it comes time for the acoustic part of the show, you prepare yourself for the inevitable argument of whose song got to be sung tonight.

They still hadn’t decided as of this morning. Together or nothing, they had said, but no conclusion had been made.

Natasha sits on a stool, her guitar in hand, and smiles out at the crowd. Wanda makes her way to the seat next to her.

“So, this is part of the show where we wanted to slow things down a bit,” Natasha begins. The crowd cheers. “We had a really hard time deciding what to sing for you all tonight.”

“Yes,” Wanda agrees. “There were many fights and late nights.”

She throws you a wink from on stage and you feel yourself heat up.

“Exactly, baby. But we did end up making a decision,” Natasha says. “We wrote a new song.”

At her words, the crowd erupts. You knew they had new music written, but it wasn’t in the plan to sing it tonight. Or so you thought.

“This one is dedicated to a very special woman in our lives. Someone who came in and changed everything,” Wanda explains. “This is called Forever Loving You.”

Both women glance over at you as they begin to play the song. They had written it about you. Tears form in your eyes as you listen to the words.

By the end of the song, the crowd loves the new music and it’s trending on Twitter. The women sing their final three songs before saying goodbye to the crowd.

Wanda comes up to you first, smiling so wide.

“What did you think?” She asks. Not giving you time to answer, she pulls you in for a long kiss.

Nat appears when Wanda’s pulled away. She kisses you too.

“That was the sweetest song,” you tell them.

“Well, you are our sweet girl,” Nat says.

You hug them both at once. They grin at your affection as they pull you backstage with them.

Back in their dressing room, Wanda takes off her shirt. Her sweat is glistening over her braless chest.

“How did it feel?” You ask.

“Like we’re back,” Wanda answers. “We’re back, baby!”

“We are indeed back!” Natasha says, scooping her wife up into a hug.

“I missed this energy after a show,” Wanda says.

“Me too,” Nat agrees.

The two women kiss each other deeply. You watch on as they celebrate this accomplishment together.

Nat’s hands wander over Wanda’s body, landing on her exposed breasts. She moves her hands over the breasts as her fingers flick over her nipples.

Wanda gasps into the kiss. She puts one hand in Nat’s waistband and the other beckons you to join them.

“Great idea, Wands. Come here, sweetheart,” Natasha says.

You approach the tangle of limbs. Wanting to see more of her, you slip your hands under Natasha’s shirt and pull it over her head.

Her lacy bra is quick to join the shirt on the ground. Wanda takes one nipple in her mouth as you take the other. Natasha loves when the two of you do this.

“Fuck,” she groans. “My good girls.”

Wanda’s hand in Nat’s pants moves over her folds. You unbutton her pants and pull them down her legs. Already kneeling, you remain there and take off Wanda’s pants as well.

“Oh,” Wanda moans softly as she feels her wetness exposed in the cold air. “Fuck me.”

“You both did so well tonight I think I’ll fuck you both,” you say.

You’ve gotten more confident in taking charge around the women.

“I like that plan,” Natasha says. Wanda’s fingers continue to move over her.

You use your mouth to work in tandem with her. Natasha lets out the most wonderful sounds as you move your tongue over her.

Your hand goes in the opposite direction and rubs over Wanda. You find her already wet and ready for you.

“I can take it,” Wanda mumbles between kisses with Nat. “Natty here stretched me out before the show.”

Her words make your own core ache. Of course that’s their pre show ritual.

“It’s a fact you sing better when you’re relaxed and the best way for you to relax is to take my cock, isn’t it?” Natasha asks her wife. Her tone is a bit condescending, only turning you both on more.

“Yes daddy,” Wanda answers. You slip your fingers inside of her. “Fuck.”

“Good job, baby. You take her so well,” Natasha encourages her.

You pick up your pace of your mouth on Natasha. Wanda does the same with her fingers. Soon, the woman is having to lean against her wife to remain standing.

“Come for us, Nat,” Wanda instructs her.

The woman shakes before her movements halt and pure pleasure takes over. She breathes heavily into Wanda’s neck.

You clean her up and she watches as you go directly from her pussy to Wanda’s. The taste of both women at once drives you crazy.

It drives them both crazy too. Wanda’s knees buckle as she approaches her high. Nat keeps her upright with her hands around her waist.

“Come for her, Wanda. Show me how you can come for her,” Natasha says.

Wanda’s moans become even more breathy as she comes against you. You do your best to clean her up before you stand up.

The two women take turns kissing you until your head is spinning.

“I think we owe our manager a good time too. Don’t you think, Nat? Anything she wants?” Wanda asks.

“I- um,” you stumble.

“Yeah, of course. She’s the reason we got this far after all,” Natasha says. “What would you like, y/n?”

“Oh.” They’ve never asked you before. They always just do something and it feels so good.

“Do you need some options, baby?” Wanda asks. She rubs your cheek with her fingers. The same ones that were inside Natasha just minutes ago.

“No, I- um-”

“Don’t be shy now, pretty girl. Tell us what you want,” Natasha says. She moves a hand over your arm.

“Can I- is it okay if I ride your thigh?” You ask. You’re looking at Natasha, so she correctly assumes you mean her.

“Come here,” she says, a grin on her face. She pulls you by the hand to the couch. Nat sits down all spread out for you, but Wanda keeps you standing up.

“We have to get you out of all these clothes,” Wanda says. You let her undress you while Natasha watches on with wide eyes. She loves to see her wife do this to you.

“Now, come join me,” Natasha says once you’re properly naked. She pulls you by your hips onto her lap. Your wetness is already evident as she slots her thigh between your legs.

“Were you thinking about this during the show?” Wanda asks you. “About riding my wife’s thigh?”

“Yes,” you moan out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes mommy,” you correct yourself.

“Good girl,” Wanda appeases.

Natasha’s hands move your hips against her as your movements slow. She always wants you to come hard against her.

“So good, y/n. Wanda look how she moves against me,” Natasha says.

“I know. Such a perfect girl.”

Wanda grabs Natasha’s face and she kisses her lips fervently. Tongues mingle in front of you and you’re tipping over the edge in no time.

“Fuck Natasha,” you mumble.

“Yeah baby. Ride that high,” she says. Her hands don’t stop their movements, making you feel sensitive against her.

When she relents, you fall against her. The woman kisses your forehead and holds you close.

“What a night,” Wanda remarks, joining your snuggling with Natasha. She leans over and kisses your lips softly.

“We should probably write a song about it,” Natasha says, a smirk on her lips.

“I approve,” you say.

All of you share a smile as Natasha continues to hold you and Wanda close. Tonight was the first of many tour dates.

You can’t wait to see what’s next for The Scarlet Widow.

[normshortfornormal]

Steb x OC

"Firefish"

Steb x fem!OC (Vastaya) 

Summary: Steb and Eiden, childhood friends turned lovers, serendipitously run into each other in Piltover after many years of having not seen each other. They decide to commemorate their reunion with a night of pleasure. 

Word Count: 5594 

Tags and Warnings: Explicit, Smut, Oral Sex, Aftercare, Alcohol, slight animal biology, they are in love, steb is such a romantic during sex, established relationship, established relationship and OC lore that isn’t all revealed in this one piece, NOT EDITED, Steb was born in Ionia and is not native to Piltover or Zaun, Steb and OC travelled around Runeterra before Piltover (but not always travelling together)

This is my first time writing smut! Please be kind. This is meant to be the first chapter of a series, so there’s a lot of information and lore that has yet to be revealed. I plan to post this on Ao3 once I have more written for it and once it’s more revised! Please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading!

(yes this is a repost bc tumblr hates whimsy and love)

Read below the cut!

Eiden decided to go to a different bar today. One where the wine was cheap and the music was quieter. Here, in this modest bar where everyone seemed to be friends and knew each other on a first name basis, the bass wasn’t so heavy that it made her feathers feel like they were going to fall off. 

Sitting further in the bar was a stage hosting karaoke night. There was a pretty pair who were singing quite a horrible rendition of a popular love song. The girl was really carrying the whole song, she could actually sing and had a nice voice. The boy accompanied with harmonies that were somehow too sharp and too flat at the same time. Eiden watched from the bar that sat near the entrance, legs crossed and swirling a glass of red wine the same color as her dress. When the pair finished, everyone clapped and whistled, and the woman in charge of the music congratulated them for a sparkling performance. Eiden clapped along, too, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, but she could blame the wine for that. 

She downed her glass and beckoned for another one. 

“Must’ve been a pretty tough week, huh?” The bartender grinned as he poured her another one. 

“Quite the opposite, in fact. Thank you.” Eiden took the glass and sipped it. “Tonight calls for celebration.”

“Oh? And what’s the occasion?” 

“Celebration, of course. Celebrating for celebration’s sake—makes life a little livelier.” 

The bartender chuckled. “Here’s to life, then.” He went off to help another customer, leaving Eiden to bounce her foot to the beat and watch the flow of people. Standing on the stage now was a man doing mumble rap. Despite the poor choice of music, people were dancing anyway. Eiden was tempted to join them, but she was quite comfortable where she was. She had a perfect view of the bar and all its activities. 

There was a group of people who were playing foosball. There was only one woman amongst them. Every time someone scored a point, the loser had to take a shot and shuffle off for the next person. The reigning champion was a very pretty boy whom she’d been trying to catch the attention of since she laid eyes on him. Perhaps if he wasn’t so focused on the game, he would have spotted her by now, but alas, Eiden was left to sit at the bar, sipping wine and lamenting the lack of attention.

Others had noticed her—she was a new face in a bar that seemed intimately acquainted with their regulars—but they were not him, so she didn’t care. 

She was on her fifth glass when he finally noticed her. He had lost to the woman—a young girl with short orange hair—and was forced to take a shot. He wiped his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest, grinning as the woman decimated her opponent, when one of the drunker men elbowed him and pointed her out. His eyes flicked over the bar and did a double-take when he saw her.

Eiden couldn’t help it. Her lips curved into a coy smile. She winked at him before turning away and sipping her wine. From where she sat and where he stood, he had a perfect view of her back, generously revealed by the backless dress she wore. He could see her feathers peeking from just above her tailbone, she knew. 

She could hear his friends egging him on, encouraging to go say hello to her. She did not look in his direction, not even when his shadow graced the wooden countertop. 

“Eiden.” 

She loved the way he said her name. It made her wings ruffle and the tiny feathers on her cheeks twitch. More than that, it was refreshing to hear the familiar Vastayan dialect she had grown up with. She turned her head to face him. She did a very slow once-over of him, paying extra attention to his legs and chest and the blush on his face. 

“How do you know my name, stranger?” she asked with round eyes and fluttering lashes. 

“Just a feeling,” he said, looking equal parts exasperated and amused. “May I sit?”

“You may.”

He took his seat and Eiden eyed his friends in the back, all watching with unabashed eagerness. He leaned to the side, obstructing her view with his pretty face. 

“Don’t be jealous, Steb,” Eiden teased. She swiveled in her seat so her body was towards him. “No one catches my eye like you do.”

He smiled and rolled his eyes. His gaze lingered on her lips, colored deep red with lipstick, and her plunging neckline that teased her stomach. Then he looked at her fingers, and that was what made his frills flicker across his cheeks. 

“You’re adorable,” she said. Her fingers teased his knuckles, and he cleared his throat. 

“I wasn’t aware you were in Piltover.”

“What a coincidence then, hm? Guess we’re fated to meet again and again.” Eiden smiled when Steb intertwined his fingers with her own. “So? What brings you here? To this bar, I mean.”

“A celebration. I passed my Enforcer exam.”

“Oho, congratulations. And I suppose those are…?”

“Colleagues that passed with me.”

Eiden hummed. “Have you had anything to drink? Apart from the one shot you had. Shame your winning streak had to come to an end.” Steb’s friends were playing without him, but they were watching the interaction at the bar, so they weren’t very focused. 

“Not much.” Steb raised an eyebrow when Eiden pushed her half-full glass towards him with her finger. Clearly, he was not impressed by the cheap wine. 

“Don’t act so high and mighty,” Eiden said. “Don’t you remember Bilgewater?”

Steb may have shaken his head and sighed, but he was wearing a smile and his eyes were soft under the low light of the bar. He finished Eiden’s glass. 

Eiden called for two more drinks so they could celebrate Steb’s new place on the Enforcer team. She asked for gin, flashing Steb a knowing wink. They have known each other for too long for her to forget what his choice drink is. 

They clinked their glasses together and downed the drink in celebration. Then Steb asked the bartender for water and nudged the glass to Eiden. She humored him, only because it was Steb and it had been so long since they’d seen each other. 

They caught up on old times. Eiden traced his fingers and nudged his leg with her heels, while Steb admired her wine-red dress and the way it rode up her thigh. When the music turned soft and jazzy, Steb invited her for a dance, offering his hand and bowing because he’s a gentleman. 

Eiden obliged him. Together, they headed to the dance floor. Steb twirled and spun her slowly, let her step on his feet and rested his hand on the small of her back in a way that was all too comfortable and familiar. He smiled as she laughed, and went willingly when she pulled him towards her. She spun twice and ended with her back against his chest, his arms wrapped around her midsection. Eiden let her eyes drift shut as she lost herself in the music and the comfortable embrace. Like this, they swayed together. 

Eiden didn’t realize they had danced for three songs until Steb’s friends rudely interrupted them. Some were more sober than others, but they were all at least a little tipsy. They crowded Steb’s space, oblivious to how his shoulders grew rigid and he shuffled away.

“He’s a gentleman,” they said, “a real nice guy. A little quiet, but he’ll treat you right.”

The only one who was respectful was the woman, who smiled at Eiden. She did not crowd their space and actually asked for Eiden’s name. She complimented her dress, so Eiden complimented her foosball skills. 

The men were both human and men and didn’t notice how her wings and feathered ears kept twitching. Eiden suspected that even if they did notice, they wouldn’t care. It took both Steb wrapping an arm around Eiden’s waist and fixing them with a look, and the woman telling the men they should leave for everyone to finally clear off. They winked at them and flashed them knowing looks as they left the bar.

“Have a good time, you two!”

Eiden huffed, the feathers on her ears flaring a bit. “I see why you call them colleagues now,” she said. 

Steb smiled apologetically and rubbed her arm. “Maddie’s nice.”

“Is that her name? She was the most pleasant of all of them. Are you two actually friends?”

He nodded. Then he held out his hand with a small smile, inviting her for one more dance. 

“How can I say no to you?” she smiled.

The dance was too short for Eiden’s liking, but her heels were pinching her feet and her soles were sore. Steb offered to walk her home, so Eiden accepted his arm and they made the slow journey back to Eiden’s apartment. Part way through the walk, Eiden took off her heels so she could walk freely. Her feet were that of a bird’s. Had she been more sober, she would have perched on Steb’s shoulder or arm, just like they had in the past, but she liked holding onto his arm and leaning on his bicep. He offered to hold her shoes, and let them dangle from his fingers as they walked down the cobbled streets, dimly lit by the lanterns on the street. 

Steb walked Eiden all the way to the door of her apartment. They stopped in front of her door and turned to each other. The way he looked at her actually made her shy. Her feathered ears ruffled and came down over her cheeks. 

“Will you stay?” Eiden murmured, hiding behind her feathers. Steb shrugged. He lowered his head and moved her feathers out of her face. His touch was so tender as he traced her cheek, brushing just below the tiny feathers on her cheeks. He had the gentlest smile on his face. “I’m glad to see you again, too,” she said. 

He entered Eiden’s apartment with her. The door clicked shut behind them and Eiden flicked on the lights. Steb placed Eiden’s shoes in the mess of shoes by the door, shooting her a chastising look as he did. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Eiden said. She sighed and stretched her arms into the air. She grinned at the way his eyes lingered on her back and wings before quickly darting away. “It’s not messy, it’s just organized my way.”

It was a nice apartment. Not nearly as nice as the more expensive apartments in the upper crust of the city, but still nice nonetheless. She had a nice kitchen that still had dirty dishes in the sink and a living room with a couch so plush it welcomed her body with a sigh. The apartment had two bedrooms and two bathrooms. It was just her in the apartment, but she liked the extra space. 

Steb brought her a glass of water while Eiden laid on the couch. Then, to Eiden’s amusement and endearment, he headed to the sink and started washing her dishes. Eiden watched him as she sipped her water.

How many years had it been since they’d seen each other? Twenty? Fifty? The years all blurred together after a while, but seeing him filled a hole in her she hadn’t even realized was there. No matter how many times it happened, she was always surprised by the way he completed her. 

She finished her water and went to the bathroom. Then she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She sighed and toyed with the buttons of his shirt. 

“How long will you be in Piltover for?” Eiden asked.

Steb shrugged. “What about you?”

Eiden hummed. “However long feels right. If you’re here, I might stay a little longer.” She was untucking his shirt now, but Steb was focused on the dishes. Eiden pouted. “If I wanted you to do my dishes, I would’ve asked you over during the day.”

Steb put the dishes down, wiped his hands with a towel tossed haphazardly on the countertop, and turned around. His smile was amused and exasperated. 

“I have a morning shift tomorrow,” he murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.  

“We’ll make it quick, I promise.”

He shook his head and cupped her jaw. The tips of his fingers brushed the hair at the back of her head. He leaned in, his smile growing when Eiden stood on her tiptoes to catch his lips. He pulled away, smiling at Eiden’s pout. He ran his thumb across her cheek and rested his forehead against hers.

“Don’t lie.” 

Eiden smiled into the kiss. Still on her tiptoes, she draped her arms over his shoulders, carding her fingers through his hair while she traced the ridge on his neck. He shuddered at her touch, his breath hitching as she drew her finger up and down the ridge. Steb cradled her face as he kissed her slow and deep. His lips curved into a smile as Eiden tucked his shirt and popped the buttons. 

Eiden chased his lips when Steb pulled away again. He shushed and soothed her, pressing featherlight kisses to her cheeks. His hands trailed to her thighs.

“May I?” he murmured. 

“Please.”

His grip was firm on the back of her thighs. Eiden gasped when he hoisted her up with ease, and placed her on the island behind her. Whatever Eiden wanted to say was swallowed up by Steb when he kissed her again.

His kisses were always so deep and intense, like he was worshipping her mouth with his soft lips and tongue. He swallowed every whimper Eiden made and dug his fingers into her thigh when she sucked on his tongue. He slid her dress further up her thigh and groaned against her lips when she pulled at his hair. He hardly gave her a moment to breathe, kissing her until she was trembling and had to tilt her head away to catch her breath. 

Steb dragged his lips to her jaw and down her throat, mouthing at her shoulder and back up to her throat. Eiden slid his shirt off his body until it hit the floor. She pressed down on the ridge that trailed from his tailbone to the top of his neck, and Steb moaned into her skin. His hands roamed to her back, climbing up her skin until he traced the sensitive part of where her wings sprouted from her back. He rubbed underneath her wing and Eiden jolted, gasping and gripping his biceps. 

“Mean,” she breathed. She felt Steb smile against her throat. He kissed back up to her mouth, pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips before pulling back to stare at her.

His pupils were blown and his lips were wet and swollen. Her lipstick was smeared all over him, coloring his lips with a dark red tint. One of his teeth was stained too. Steb raised an eyebrow, ran his tongue across his teeth and cleaned the lipstick away. He dragged his thumb below his lip, slow and tantalizing as he stared at Eiden, and sucked away the lipstick he had smudged on his thumb.

“Open,” he whispered, and Eiden obeyed without a second thought. She opened her mouth and Steb slid his thumb in, watching with rapt attention as Eiden sucked on him, swirled her tongue around him while looking up at him through her long eyelashes. He pressed down on her tongue and his breath hitched when her eyes fluttered. He drew his thumb out and Eiden pressed a kiss to the tip, smiling when he smeared her own saliva across her bottom lip.

Eiden cradled his face, resting her forehead against his. He held her waist, and when they kissed again, he pulled her forward until she was sitting at the very edge of the counter, pressed flush against his torso. He nudged her fingers up to the frills below his eyes. She dragged her thumb across them, and delighted in the way he moaned into her mouth. His lips drifted to her jaw and down to her throat. He mouthed at her pulsepoint and teased under her wing until Eiden was trembling beneath him. She breathed his name and ran her fingers across the frills on his chest and sides, delighting in the way he hissed her name.

“Can I mark you?” Steb murmured against her throat, voice thick and wrought with arousal. He pressed light butterfly kisses to her skin, looking up at her with big eyes. 

“Please…” 

Eiden’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks as Steb sucked a pretty mark onto her neck. He ran his tongue over it and dragged his lips back to hers. His hand had trailed so far up her thigh that he was holding her ass now. He squeezed, digging his fingers into her flesh before touching her tail feathers. She jolted against him, the sensation heading straight to her core. It was difficult to breathe as he played with her. She buried her face into the crook of his neck as her body twisted and twitched, unsure if it wanted more or to get away from his touch. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” he whispered into her ear. 

“That one.” Eiden pointed to the door across the room. In a smooth motion, Steb swept her into his arms, holding her like a bride as he headed towards her room. Eiden laughed, her hands falling naturally onto his shoulders. “Such a prince.” 

Steb smiled and kissed her cheek. He placed her on her bed so gently, making sure her head rested comfortably on the pillows, like she really was his princess. 

The bed creaked with his weight as he crawled up her body. He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, then her cheek and to her jaw, down her neck and to her shoulder. 

“I like this dress,” he murmured, slipping the thin strap off her shoulder. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” His hands roamed her body, searching for the zipper. Eiden helped guide him to the back of her dress. 

“Then I’ll wear it more for you,” Eiden whispered, arching her back so Steb could unzip her dress. 

“Just for me?”

Eiden’s breathy laugh melted into a sigh once Steb started planting kisses all over her exposed skin. “Don’t want anyone else seeing me in that dress, huh?”

Steb shook his head and slid the fabric off her body. “Tonight was enough.” He kissed her shoulder and then trailed his lips down to her chest. They locked eyes as Steb took her nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the bud. Eiden’s sigh was blissful. Her eyes fluttered shut and she carded her fingers through his hair. 

He flicked her nipple with his tongue and pulled at the other one with his hand. Eiden’s breathing grew more ragged, her body hotter beneath him as she arched her back, pressing her chest further into his mouth. She whispered his name like it was a secret just for the two of them. 

Steb kissed down her body, taking his time to mark her skin while Eiden whined for him to hurry up. Steb looked up at her when she said his name, and smiled at the look on her face. He took her hand into his own and pressed gentle kisses all across her knuckles. Then he kissed her stomach, slow and sweet, and caressed her hip while staring at her with his pretty eyes. 

Eiden’s lip quivered. She turned her head to the side, burying her face into the pillow. “You make me feel like it’s the first time.”

Steb chuckled against her skin and held her hand in his own as he drifted down, down until she could feel his breath against her clothed cunt. Her legs were trembling as she spread them. He pressed a soft kiss to her panties and looked up at her. She nodded, gripping his hand like a lifeline even though this was far from their first time ever having sex, but the way he looked at her, the way he kissed her body so reverently, brought back old shyness. 

He kissed the inside of her thighs, licking and leaving his own private marks that only he would see. The way he kissed her, sucked marks into her skin while running his thumb across her fingers made her thighs tremble. 

When he finally started to kiss her panties, Eiden breathed out a blissful thank you. He made out with her cunt through her panties, ignoring her pleas to take them off because he liked to hear how needy she got. When she was all but choking please and Steb and I want more, he generously pulled her panties to the side. He held them to the side with his thumb. He blew a light puff of air against her clit and the sensation made her flinch. 

“Don’t tease,” Eiden whispered. 

Steb breathed a laugh against her core. He pulled his hand from hers, leaving Eiden to grip the sheets as he used his hand to spread Eiden’s lips apart and lick a fat stripe from her ass to her clit. Eiden gasped, hips rocking against his face. He held her open, his long tongue diving into her entrance and pressing against her walls. Her slick coated his tongue and when he moaned, mouth pressed flush against her, the vibrations went straight to her pussy. Her body twitched each time his lips brushed against her clit as his tongue squirmed inside of her. When the hand holding her open moved up to her clit, fingers circling around it, Eiden’s hips lifted off the bed. 

His thumb flicked her clit in quick motions. Eiden whined, high and needy as her head fell back onto the pillows, chest heaving as Steb ate her out like it was his last meal. He circled her clit, wringing out all sorts of noises from Eiden until all she could do was stammer his name and grip his hair, rocking her hips against his face. He moaned against her pussy, tongue deep inside of her as he circled her clit, and the combined pressure and pleasure had tears building at the edges of Eiden’s eyes. 

She rode his face, rolling her hips until she came with a gasp and a shudder, choking on Steb’s name as he continued to flick and roll her clit beneath his thumb. She gripped his hair, back arched and toes curled as he worked her through her orgasm. When it became too much, her thighs squeezed over his head and she tried to push him away. She whined when Steb finally slid his tongue out of her, leaving her pussy to pulse and squeeze on nothing. Her back was still arched when he pressed a soft, tender kiss to her clit and slid her panties back over her pussy. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, just starting to come down from her high when she felt Steb pull back her panties and release it with a loud snap. Eiden yelped, her clit stinging. She finally looked up at Steb, and he was looking at her with such ravenous lust that her stomach swooped. 

Steb removed her panties in a quick motion, tossing them onto the floor before lowering his head between her legs again. 

“Wh-what are you— oh!” Eiden’s head fell back, legs closing over Steb’s head as he licked her cunt again, swallowing up the slick and cum straight from her pussy. With one hand, he held a firm grip on her waist to keep her on the bed as his lips latched onto her clit. He sucked and flicked his tongue over her clit in rapid motions, drinking her shrieks and moans like he did the slick gushing from her pussy. With his other hand, he slipped two fingers easily into her entrance, giving her something to squeeze on while he sucked and licked at her clit. 

He fingered her as his lips stayed latched onto her clit. She barely felt it when he added another finger, all pressed in to the knuckle. Steb never let up even for a second, his tongue rapidly flicking her clit as he fucked her on his fingers. His grip on her hip was too firm for her to squirm away, even as she writhed in place. 

“S-Steb, Steb, it’s too much, please— please, I—!” Eiden gasped, keening between her teeth as Steb curled his fingers. The heat coiling in her gut was coming to a head. Tears were leaking out of her eyes now, overwhelmed as Steb continued to abuse her clit with his tongue and curl his long fingers inside her.

“C’mon, give me one more,” he muttered against her clit. “One more, you can do it.”

“I-I can’t, it–it’s too much, I can’t— I— Steb! Oh, fuck!” She squeezed her thighs tight over his head, words cutting off in a shriek as she came again. Her vision whited out, back arching as her legs and hips spasmed. Steb moaned against her cunt, drinking the cum straight from her pussy as she rode his face and tongue. From above the mound of her pussy, Eiden saw Steb’s eyes roll back into his head as she came all over his face.

He worked her through it until Eiden begged him to stop. He finally pushed himself up and crawled over Eiden’s body until his face was hovering above hers. His face was debauched. The lower half of his face was soaked, dripping with slick and cum. He had a pretty blue blush on his cheeks and he was panting, pupils blown and frills flaring.

He cupped her face, cradling her cheek with such tenderness that Eiden couldn’t help but melt into his hand. Steb leaned down and pressed a sweet, slow kiss to her lips. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, sliding it all the way to the back of her throat. Steb shuddered when Eiden choked and gagged on his tongue. 

Steb leaned back. He rolled her nipples between his fingers as he asked, “do you still want more?”

“Yes, please,” Eiden whispered. “I want all of you.”

Steb smiled and unbuckled his belt. “So greedy,” he whispered, and Eiden swallowed. “You’re insatiable.”

He tossed his pants aside. There was a dark spot on his boxers, where the tip had spilled precum and stained the fabric. He stripped off his boxers and dropped them on the floor. The gills on his pelvis, fluttering with arousal, had opened to reveal his pretty dick. It was a pretty blue color, the tip purple and leaking with arousal, with frills and ridges on it. 

Steb traced her legs, looking at her with a questioning look. Eiden nodded. It had been so long since they’d seen each other, since they basked in each other’s warmth and love, that Eiden didn’t want to do anything but missionary.

Steb grabbed her legs and spread them apart, resting her ankles on his shoulders. He stroked his dick a few times to spread the precum, and then he was lining up at her entrance. Her pussy throbbed when he brushed against her. He rubbed his dick up and down her dripping folds, and then he was pushing in.

Eiden was so wet and loose from her previous orgasms that Steb was able to push in with ease. He groaned, leaning over her body and burying his face into her neck. Instinctively, she threw one arm over his shoulder and tangled her other hand into his hair. They moaned in tandem when Steb bottomed out, her pussy throbbing and squeezing around him. He was panting heavy against her neck, mouthing at her skin and rolling his hips like he was trying to get even deeper. 

“So good,” Eiden whispered, pressing featherlight kisses to his ears. He shuddered and whimpered against her skin. “Always so good for me.”

“Eiden,” he whispered. Steb rolled his hips, eyes and frills fluttering as he savored the feeling of her pussy. He rested his forehead against hers, a pretty divot between his eyebrows, and kissed her as he made love to her. Every rock of his hips was slow and reverent, like the way he kissed her. He smoothed the feathers on her ears and peppered her feathered cheeks with butterfly kisses. 

They made out as they slowly fucked. Steb whimpered with each movement of his hips, his movements growing stronger and faster. It didn’t take long for Steb to lean his forehead against Eiden’s, moaning and whimpering as he snapped his hips hard and fast, hitting the deepest parts of Eiden’s pussy and carving it open with the ridges of his dick. Eiden felt like her pussy was on fire. Each snap of his hips left her clit throbbing and walls squeezing around him.

“So beautiful,” Steb whispered, his breathing heavy and thrusts growing erratic. “So gorgeous.”

He fucked her until her legs were trembling, toes curling as they slotted their lips together in a sloppy rendition of a kiss. Their kiss was more shared moans and sliding tongues than a real kiss, but it had Eiden clawing marks into Steb’s back anyway. He held her face with one hand, cradling her so tenderly, so gently, as his hand slid down to her swollen clit. Eiden shrieked when he started flicking and rolling it beneath his finger. She writhed in place, but Steb kept her body down with his shoulders pressed into her knees. 

“Feels so good,” he murmured against her lips, drinking in her moans and sobs. The combined pleasure of Steb fucking her while he circled her swollen clit had Eiden crying, gripping Steb like he was her last lifeline. “You’re perfect.”

Eiden’s orgasm rushed through her, sudden and electric, lighting her entire body on fire as her back arched, eyes rolling back in her head and mouth open in a silent scream. Her nails dug into Steb’s skin, her body trembling beneath his as he fucked her through her third orgasm. It was too much. Her entire body felt oversensitive, tingling with the sensation and pleasure of her third release. 

Steb moaned against her skin, whispering about how beautiful she was and how good she felt. He rolled his hips deep into her throbbing pussy, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own orgasm. When he finally came, it was so deep that Eiden swore she could feel it in her stomach. He moaned, frills fluttering euphorically against his cheek as he filled her with so much cum that she could feel it leak out of her and onto the sheets. 

Steb cooed at her, kissing her tears away as he worked himself through his orgasm. Then captured Eiden’s lips in a deep kiss that carried the high for just a little longer. Steb sighed blissfully against her lips. When they pulled away, Steb sprinkled light kisses all over her face; on her forehead, her temples, her cheeks and the corner of her mouth. His hands rubbed her body, soothing her skin. They both groaned when he finally pulled out, and all the cum he pumped into her came spilling out onto the sheets. 

Her body felt like jello. Tingling and weak, her nerves were spent. She didn’t have the energy to speak, so when Steb looked at her with a worried expression, she smiled and signed to him, don’t be sorry. I’m alright.

He stood up, and Eiden watched as he headed to the bathroom connected to the room. He returned with a towel, and he wiped up the pool of cum that had spilled out of Eiden. He set that towel aside, and then went back into the bathroom. This time, he returned with a cloth soaked with warm water. Gently, he ran the cloth across Eiden’s legs, cleaning the mess and warming her body. 

She giggled when he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. 

I’ll get you some water, he signed. Eiden nodded, and he disappeared into the main room. He was quick to return with two glasses of water. He placed them both on the nightstand, and helped Eiden sit up. He rearranged the pillows to make sure she was comfortable, and then sat beside her. He handed her the glass of water, and Eiden downed it. 

She sighed and leaned on his shoulder. Steb sipped at his water, entwining his fingers with hers. Eiden’s energy was slowly coming back to her. 

“I’ve missed you,” she murmured, her voice a little hoarse.

Steb smiled and brought her hand up to his mouth. He placed a soft kiss on her palm, his gaze so tender and adoring. He kissed down her arm and then back up to her palm, smiling at the way Eiden giggled. 

He finished his water and placed both their glasses back on the nightstand. 

Let me massage you, he signed. You’ll be sore in the morning. Eiden smiled, amused and endeared. 

“After cuddles.”

Steb’s smile was just as amused. You never change. Still, he obliged her and settled next to her, pulling Eiden close to his chest. He pressed kisses to her hair, trailing his fingers up and down her back and smoothing the feathers on her wings. Eiden sighed in his embrace, letting herself relax in his arms. 

How she had missed his warmth.

[builtbykittie]

Electrified

S.F.K x f!reader

Summary: Escaping an uncomfortable situation at a party, you frantically look for your best friend, just to find he was also searching for you.

Warnings: 18+ per usual, alcohol consumption, SMUT, semi public sex, unprotected sex (y'all know better), this is literally just porn... nothing too crazy.

Words: nearly 4.5k

A/N: Ugh another Sam friends to lovers? Yes. This is a Taylor Swift inspired fic🥰. Every time I hear this song, I think of Sammy (despite the fact he hates pop music) So I finally wrote about it, enjoy! (Disclaimer I literally didn't edit this much at all & I'm so sorry)

.

"Who are you trying to impress," Sam's eyes trace the shape of your body before looking back to the road. "Nobody," you fix the length of your dress in the passenger seat. "Why? You worried someone might try to take me home?" you smirk.

"Pfft, no," he rolls his eyes, thumbs drumming to the beat of the rock song piercing through your ears. "Then why do you care," you bicker with him as if you're siblings, trying to get each other as annoyed and worked up as possible.

The truth is, you couldn't care less if anyone else saw you. You only wanted Sam to see you, for some stupid reason. Sam is your best friend, and has been for years, so why would you even try to impress him? For the same reason everybody else tries to impress their person of choice, of course.

"Oh thank god. I'm saved!" Sam snickers as he pulls into his brother's crowded driveway. You giggle and roll your eyes "Sam you know I don't like parties, you're gonna have to deal with me eventually tonight."

"Yeah, well, I'm saved for now," he playfully grabs your knee and gives it a shake before pulling his seatbelt away from his body. "Oh shut up, you know you would gladly argue with me for hours," you unbuckle your own seatbelt, pushing the door open with your heel.

Sam helps you down from the passenger's seat, his large hand hovering over the small of your back, then gently grabbing your waist as you slip out of the seat until your heels touch the ground. "You got me," he grins. It's simple touches like these that keep you on your toes, a wave of electricity flowing through your body every. single. time.

You look around at the countless cars lined up in front of Josh's house, starting to grow anxious. "I'll be in there the whole time. If anything happens, just find me," Sam pats your back and gestures for you to follow him into his brother's house.

All you really want is to stay in and watch movies, but Sam wouldn't dare to miss his big brother's party, and you don't blame him.

Sam parts ways with you within just minutes of being in the house, instantly going to mingle with any person who catches his attention. You grow a little jealous, not just of the other people getting his attention but also of his social skills. You wish you could make conversation with people as effortlessly as he could, but instead, you hunt for any person you're relatively close with.

"Y/N!" You hear your name being called by a voice you could recognize from miles away. "Jake?" You locate him in just seconds, walking over and pulling him into a side hug. "You here with Sam?" Jake looks around for any sight of his younger brother.

"Yeah. He left me as soon as we got through the door," you smile, swinging your arm through the air as if to swat away a pesky fly. "Yeah.. Sam's an asshole," he laughs, but he can't seem to mask the look of concern playing on his features.

The unbearable sounds of Sam shouting with others only seem to make you more upset. You should be happy that your best friend can have fun and be himself, but it all just gets caught up in a fit of jealousy. "You don't need to worry about me. Do you know where Josh is?" You look around, having not seen Josh once at his own party.

"Hm, downstairs maybe. You know how Josh is, he's just trying to converse with everyone," you nod your head, giggling as you picture his adorable self going around to every single person here and making them feel welcome.

"Well, I'm gonna go look for him. I'll see you later," you wave, squeezing through and dodging everyone till you reach the stairs. There he is, his slim figure facing away from you as he talks to someone at the bottom of the stairs. You wait there only for a few seconds until Josh discovers you himself, swiftly making his way up the stairs "Y/N! When did you get here? Where's Sam?"

"There he is! We didn't show up too long ago. And Sam's gotta be around here somewhere." Josh pulls you into an embrace, stepping back and complimenting your dress. "Thanks, Sam didn't like it," you giggle "I gotta say, you always have the best parties. You truly are a man of many talents."

You and Josh are rudely interrupted by a woman's voice shouting your name, followed by a cold hand wrapping around your arm. Your brows furrow, giving Josh a puzzled look before turning around to meet eyes with a girl you knew, but not well enough.

She's obviously wasted, her eyes bloodshot, her skin a deep shade of crimson, not to mention the fact you can hardly understand her "I haven't seen you in forever!" You avoid any physical contact, lest she spills her drink on your brand new dress you'd spent all afternoon staring at yourself in. "Hey, Jen. Been a while, huh?" There's no doubt in your mind that this conversation would be 100% less painful if you had something in your system, but you were completely sober.

"Let me get you a drink," she pats your shoulder and gestures toward the counter that is littered with countless alcohol bottles, empty and full. It's as if she read your mind. You let out a sigh of relief, turning back to Josh but he's not there, and now you're surrounded by people you'd rather not be around.

Normally you wouldn't take a drink made by someone else, but these are Josh's friends, and Jen was 100% a girls girl. "Thank you," you take the drink from her hand, awkwardly sipping off the red solo cup filled with what tastes like a mix of vodka and cherry juice.

"We're playing games in the living room, you should come join," Jen grabs you, pulling you in the direction of the living room before you can even say anything.

"Oh no, I'm so bad at games, I'll just embarrass myself," you whine, but letting her drag you into the room of people nonetheless. "Not skill games, silly!" She points at everyone sitting in a circle, familiar faces looking up and insisting you to sit. It all feels so childish, like a bunch of high schoolers that got ahold of their parent's alcohol, playing games to get a rise out of each other.

You find Jake in the circle as well, a defeated smile on his face as he shrugs in your direction. "Fine," everyone cheers, scooting over to make room for you and the dark-haired girl next to you. Jake is sitting straight across from you, his sweet brown eyes calming you down and silently telling you to relax, to have fun.

You're not sure when, but at some point, the questions being asked have taken a sharp turn from being embarrassing yet harmless, to being strictly about the sex lives of everyone in the circle.

All color drains from your face as the bottle slows down, pointing straight at you. You already know the question is gonna be about you and Sam, it always is.

"Have you hooked up with Sammy yet? What's he like in bed?"

"I haven't... which is a surprise considering he'll take any girl home," you fail to hide the venom and jealousy that has laced your voice, everyone giggling and "ooh" ing like little children. "Just spin the damn bottle. I don't wanna hear about Sam's sex life anymore," Jake saves you from any more invasive questions, sending a wink in your direction.

You sit miserably through a couple more rounds and a few more drinks, the constant discussion of sex reminding you that you haven't gotten off in a while. You've been so busy for the past few days, you'd completely forgotten how long you've gone without a good orgasm.

Wetness in your panties becomes evident to you as you adjust your position. For every minute you sit there, the anticipation grows, your heart pounding and your hands trembling as you absent-mindedly search for Sam every other second. Your mind sifts through every possible affair, unsure of how to fix your problem. Do you relieve yourself in Josh's bathroom? Look for someone to go home with?

Finally, you stand up, your legs beginning to carry you away from the circle before your brain can even make a decision. "Excuse me," you ignore everyone's stares and questions, moving through the house as if you're on autopilot mode.

You still don't know where you're going, but when you find yourself subconsciously searching for Sam's face, it becomes apparent what you truly want. Now you're frantic, plowing through people and shamelessly calling his name. You're in a daze as you search every corner of Josh's house, not paying any care to how beside yourself you may look or how desperate you may sound to lingering guests.

Turning the corner to yet another crowded room, you run into someone's chest, exhilaration coursing through your veins and what's left of your inhibitions melting away as you realize it's Sam.

"Sam! I was looking everywhere for you!" you basically throw yourself onto him, smoothing your palms over his chest. "I was looking for you," his tone is sexy, hypnotizing sultry brown eyes stare into yours. You don't know if it's just the drinks, but there's a specific energy radiating off of Sam's warm body. If you stand there for long enough, breathing him in, you're sure that it will get you high.

An overwhelming feeling takes complete control over you, lifting yourself slightly to whisper in his ear "I need you, Sam." You shock yourself, unsure where your sudden bluntness came from.

You watch Sam's eyes widen and feel his chest rise and fall underneath your hands, his body growing unbelievably hot.

Sam's breath significantly picks up as you cup his face, rubbing your thumb across the warm surface. You back him into a dark part of the room, starting to press kisses against his neck.

He looks around in a panic, but luckily no one is looking "Y/N, we're leaving. Now." His lanky fingers wrap around your wrist, and he begins to pull you through the house, nearly running.

You both are far too turned on to say goodbye to anyone or pay attention to comments people make as you pass by. But to your misfortune, Josh stops you.

"Hey! Are you two leaving already?" Josh quirks an eyebrow as he notices something on Sam's neck, a smirk playing on his lips after connecting the dots. "Uh, yeah," Sam searches for an excuse "You know how she is with parties." Sam lifts your arm as you awkwardly smile beside him.

"Okay, well, it was really nice to see you. Enjoy yourselves," Josh doesn't pull you in for a hug like he normally would, instead just sending you on your way. His smug tone and grin would normally send you into a panic, but right now you couldn't care less about anything other than Sam.

You hope to make a beeline straight out the door, but you're stopped by yet another Kiszka brother and Daniel by his side.

"There you are. Leaving?" Jake's eyes flick down to the same spot Josh noticed, now you're curious. Sam nods "She's not feeling great and I'm her ride." Jake snickers and taps Danny with his elbow, a crooked smile growing on his face "I'm sure you are."

"Oh fuck off. Are you gonna let us leave?" Sam doesn't even try to act calm, the more you stand the more the anticipation builds. "You can't stay just a little longer?" Danny smirks, Jake bringing his hands up to rest on his hips.

"No," now you're incredibly impatient and unable to stand still as your arousal soaks your panties "I really don't feel good." "Awh... Well.. you heard the girl," Jake laughs through his words, sending a jab to Danny's side with his elbow. Danny slings his arm over Jake's shoulder as they begin to take steps backward "see ya!"

"Fuck. Finally," Sam breathes, and you look over to him, your lipstick painted all over his neck. "Sam," you whisper, but he's too distracted to hear it, or anything anyone is saying. Suddenly, the room erupts with hollers as Sam shoves you through the door.

"Sam, they all know," you whine, reaching a hand up to massage his scalp as he pulls you into his side. "Good," he pulls his keys from his pocket, unlocking the car and practically running to it. Sam walks around to the driver's side, and that's when you realize you can't wait any longer.

"Sam," you drop your head, fully aware of how desperate you've become. "What baby?" He opens the door, a smug grin pulling on his cheeks. "Sam I- I can't... I need you."

"I thought you'd say that," he snickers, slamming the door shut and pulling the door to the back seat open. You waste no time sending the door flying open and crawling in, locking the door behind you.

Your lips instantly find his, your teeth clashing into each other's as you smash your lips together. "What were you thinking?" Sam sucks in a breath as he backs you toward the door and hovers over you. Before you can respond he starts again "I mean seriously. Wearing this tiny fucking dress. Kissing me in front of those people. Getting me all worked up."

A whiney moan escapes your mouth as he lifts the hem of your dress, his cold fingertips grazing the skin of your upper thigh. "I knew you'd like it," you confess in a moan, lifting your hands and tangling them in his hair, pulling him into you.

Suddenly, he violently pulls the silk black fabric above your head. Your words obviously sparked a fire in him, a vicious one nobody could put out. Sam's fingers rake over your thighs then up to your unclothed breasts, groaning at the sight "You knew full well what you were doing dressed like this."

Sam takes your nipple in his mouth before releasing it with a pop and sucking a bruise to the swell of your breast. "So what if I did, Sammy?" You moan, arching your back into him. You reach down and cup his bulge, palming him as a devilish grin grows on your face.

"Then I'll just have to fuck you until you can't see straight." With that, he begins to trail kisses down your breasts to your navel, his finger drawing lines across your skin so close to where you desperately need his touch.

"Sam, please," you whine, back arching up into his touch as he kisses along the band of your panties. Your pleads are met with a sick laughter against your tummy "you're so needy, you know that?"

You couldn't roll your eyes back further in your head, trying your very hardest to not reach down and pull your panties off yourself. "You can't act like you don't need it just as bad, Sam. I know how bad you want to fuck me," you moan, knowing it'd set off something in him.

You were right, because without warning he swiftly pulls the tiny piece of lace fabric down your legs, leaving you completely naked. "Jesus, you're eager, huh?" Sam hums and brings his lips to your tummy, sucking the skin into his mouth before lapping at the raw skin with his tongue.

"You just can't admit it huh Sammy? You can't admit that I'm right?" You try to get him as worked up as you possibly can, your body rolling into his touch. "Wow. You're right, Y/N. I'm just dying to feel you," he rolls his eyes dramatically, but he's far from lying.

Slowly and painfully, Sam makes a line of kisses down from your navel to the very top of your heat. "Please.." is all you can muster up and your eyes clamp shut in anticipation, just waiting for him to do something, anything.

"Now you're being nice? What happened to the bratty girl who was here just a second ago?" Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his hot breath against your core. "Sam, stop. Plea-" you're unable to finish your sentence when he suddenly points his tongue, dragging it through your arousal drenched folds.

You suck in a choked gasp, involuntarily pushing yourself against Sam's face, earning a hum against your heat. The vibration sends a shock through your body, your hands mindlessly flying to his hair "oh Sam..."

His tongue quickly warmed up to you, it was as if he already knew your body. Without warning, Sam shoves a finger in you, hitting a sweet spot as he does so. "Sam.. I can- I'm almost-" you're interrupted by your own moan as he pushes another finger in, instantly curling up.

Sam lifts his head to look you in the eye, stopping his movement causing you to whine at the loss of contact "can you do one more?" You're a bit taken back by the question "I- I don't know... Nobody's ever..."

"I know you can," he presses a peck to your clit and slowly slides in a third, stretching you out in a way you've never experienced before. "Oh- oh my god.. Sam,"

"Good girl... You're so tight around my fingers, baby. Are you close?" All you can muster up is a weak nod and a hum, pushing yourself down onto his fingers further. You find yourself holding your breath, a moan ripping through your chest as he presses the flat of his tongue against your clit.

You take the opportunity to grind against his tongue, your hips beginning to shake and your thighs burn when you feel your orgasm approach. Your movements significantly quicken, relentlessly grinding and pushing yourself against Sam's tongue as he viciously rams his fingers into you.

Within a matter of seconds, the burning pleasure flows through your entire body, your eyes shut so tightly you might need to pry them open as you mutter his name over and over.

"Fuck, Y/N," Sam breathlessly snickers, slowly pulling his fingers from you and rubbing the slick all around your core. He returns to hover over you, bringing his face down to your ear "you know... A couple girls tried to take me home.. but I was looking for you, Y/N."

Your eyes widen in confusion and you nod your head, silently telling him to continue. "I couldn't stop thinking about you.. that dress.. your body. I needed you. Only you," he takes the shell of your ear in between his teeth, gently biting down.

The confession sends a shiver down your spine and your mouth falls open once he finds a sensitive spot behind your ear. You reach up and push his head against your neck, you can basically hear your heartbeat in your ears as he continues to nip at and place open mouth kisses to your neck.

"I thought you didn't like the dress," you smirk, your other arm reaches down, desperately trying to find what you need so bad. "So greedy... you're not satisfied with just these?" Sam teases, dragging his fingers through your heat.

"Sam, stop," you moan, your body jolting at the touch. Another wicked snicker leaves his lips as he presses his clothed bulge to your core "that attitude isn't gonna get you anywhere, doll. Ask nicely."

As much as you hate it, you're ready to accept defeat. "Please, Sam. I need you. Please... give it to me," you whine, grinding up against his bulge. An animalistic groan bubbles up from from his chest as he props himself up with one hand, the other fumbling with his button.

"Need help with that?" You giggle, watching as he fails to swiftly undo his jeans. You don't let him respond, his head dips down to rest in the crook of your neck as you reach to finish the task yourself.

Within just seconds you get his button undone and his zipper down, pushing them to his knees and instantly cupping his erection. Suddenly, you start to process just exactly what is happening.

He lifts his head and you look into his gorgeous brown eyes, yours widening as you take in every feature of his face lit by the moonlight. "What is it baby? You nervous?" He smiles at you, his hands running down your body, squeezing painfully at your thighs.

"Well I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, Sammy," you confess, and his face softens, the devious smile that played on his lips visually turning into a fond grin.

"Oh, Y/N. There's no need to be nervous, I promise," he brings his head back down to softly kiss your lips, but you had something else in mind. You take the opportunity to palm him through his boxers, eliciting a desperate groan from him. You can tell he's been holding back, and it's painful.

You bite his lip as he pulls back, every ounce of doubt or anxiety draining from your body. "Tell me, pretty," he pushes his boxers past his hips, his unbelievably hard cock springing free. "You knew I'd like that dress?"

If you're being honest, you completely forgot you had even said that, but it's obvious he'd been working himself into a frenzy over it. "Sammy.. I wore it for you," you drag your fingers over his body, his breath hitching in his throat as you draw a line down his length with your fingertip.

"I wore it because I thought.. I don't know.. it'd turn you on..." You trail off, looking away from him and suddenly hyper-aware of your naked body. "Well it worked, didn't it?" He giggles, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him "does this mean you've wanted to fuck me before tonight?"

"Well... I mean yeah," you reach down, grasping the base of his cock "are we just gonna lay here and have a conversation or do you want to fuck me, Sam?" A shocked look plays on his face which quickly morphs into a sinister smile "you're feisty."

You grasp the back of his neck, bringing him close to you and sucking on the skin behind his ear as you slowly stroke his cock. "God- damnit Y/N," Sam groans as he involuntarily fucks himself into your hand.

Just as he juts his hips to fuck himself into your hand, you move it, and push him down to be lined up with your dripping entrance. "Fuck me until I can't see straight, Sam," you whisper lowly into his ear, granting him permission to enter you.

"Oh fuck," he groans, your own noises mirroring his as he stretches you out so slow that the sting could become almost too much for you. You arm instinctively flies over his back, pushing him down closer to you "oh my god."

Within just a matter of seconds he begins to roll his hips, snapping them into the meat of your thigh and hitting a sweet spot just right. The moan that tumbles past your lips could disturb the entire first floor of the party still very alive and just feet away from you and Sam.

"Yeah you like that?" He punctuates his words with another sharp thrust, followed by a slow, languid thrust. "Mhm.." your eyebrows knit together, unable to form words as he keeps up this intoxicating pattern.

Your mind grows foggy, your only thoughts consisting strictly of Sam. "M- more," you whine and reach down to unbutton his shirt, desperate to feel his skin on yours.

"More? Are you sure you want that?" Sam struggles to form his own sentence as you clench and quiver around him. You nod your head frantically, pulling his chest down onto yours and arching your back up into him.

The slight change in position allowed Sam to go even deeper, the new leverage giving you everything you needed. "Oh Sam.. right there.. oh," you cry, clawing his back.

He feels too good

He hits an especially sensitive spot with a particularly rough thrust, a shocking wave of electricity flowing through your body. "Holy- holy shit..." you all but shriek, and you violently throw your head back, crashing into the door behind you.

"Woah- you okay?" Sam's movements never falter, keeping that same pattern. "Yes, Sam. Just keep- keep fucking me," you finally get the full sentence out after what feels like forever, and you know you're not going to last much longer.

You try to warn him, but your pathetic attempts to form words fail miserably. "Shit Y/N... you're so-" he interrupts himself with a guttural groan as his own orgasm to approaches.

Just as you requested and he promised, what was left of your vision completely fades away and you no longer fight to keep your eyes open.

Suddenly, fiery white pleasure viciously burns through your body and you're sure you've never felt anything like this before as you cry out his name over and over and over. "Shit. Shit shit shit," Sam's pleasure takes over his mind and you feel his hot release spurt inside you.

You're unsure just how much time has passed, but it's enough to bring you back down to earth. "Sam? You still with me?" You giggle, rubbing his back as you half expect him to be asleep.

"I'm here," he breathes, a wave of melancholy taking over your mind as you realize it's over. "I'm gonna pull out love, you ready?" All you can do is nod, clamping your eyes shut and preparing yourself. You bite back a whimper as he pulls from you, a mix of your juices dripping down your leg.

The last thing you'd expect is Sam going down and licking the mess up. A sharp, yet intoxicating feeling shocking your body as he licks through your folds and over you overstimulated clit.

"Think you could go another round?" You whisper, untangling his sweaty hair. His head shoots up to meet your eyes, a sinister grin playing over his features "go get in the front... We're going home."

.

.

.

[look-at-the-soul]

Hi! I'm new to the Peaky fandom and am in need of some Tommy fics because he's my favourite character! If your requests are open, (if not, there's no rush!) may I pretty please have a drabble or imagine -- whatever is easier -- with this gif?

*A little spice is okay, just nothing explicit. Also, my pronouns are she/her, but a gender neutral story is totally okay, too! :)

Thank you in advance!

Hello Jessyca! 🥰 Thank you so much for sending this gif!! I decided to make it part of Adele challenge using one of my favorite songs! (Lyrics in italics) 🔥🥰 edit and welcome to the fandom!! 🥰 I forgot to reply this sorry! I hope so far you’ve found incredible stories and lovely mutuals around (I’m always reblogging stories I really enjoy reading 💖)

🔥🔥🔥although the gif is extra hot, you’ll find nothing but fluffiness in this little story…

Women like me

By the corner of your eye, you found Mr. Shelby trying to catch his breath. Resting on his back against the pillows, he was looking at the ceiling completely lost in his own thoughts, his thumb rubbing absently between his brows.

You're driving me away, give me a reason to stay

I want to be lost in you, but not in this way

Don't think you quite understand who you have on your hands

How can you not see just how good for you I am?

In silence you started the same routine you knew by heart now; get up, get dressed and sneak out of his bedroom in silence, head down.

Ah, yes you were almost forgetting about his generous payment in between.

I know that you've been hurt before, that's why you feel so insecure

I begged you to let me in, 'cause I only want to be the cure

You could still feel his seed dripping down your legs, but tried to pick up your clothes scattered on the floor as gracefully as you could to get dress in the corner.

You’d been serving him for several months now, rumor has it Lizzie Stark wasn’t his mistress anymore because she got pregnant, so that was your job now; being Thomas Shelby’s whore.

Complacency is the worst trait to have, are you crazy?

You ain't never had, ain't never had a woman like me

But tonight there was something different, out of place. Mr. Shelby was still in the same position, his chest was now moving at a more normal pace. Looking at the floor, you felt embarrassed to ask for the money so you decided to pretend to fix your hair to see if he got the hint.

But he didn’t.

So after he longest seconds of your life, you decided to walk out without anything, feeling disappointed because you really needed to money to support your family. Perhaps he’d pay you double the next time, you thought to yourself but as you reached the door, his voice stopped you.

All you do is complain about decisions you make

“Y/N…” Your mouth hang open, surprised to hear him say your name.

“Is there a chance for you to stay all night?”

“I-I don’t know Mr. Shelby.” You stammered nervously, the instructions were clear; let him do whatever he wants, pick up your stuff and leave.

“You can call me Tommy… is there somewhere you need to go?”

Your eyes found his briefly, but you instantly dragged them down. “No, it’s just I’m not supposed to stay for the night.” You answered in a low voice.

“Why not?”

Feeling more embarrassed than ever, you didn’t want to point out the obvious, but as his intense blue eyes stared at you, you didn’t have another choice.

“Sir-Tommy,” you corrected yourself, “I’m just a whore.”

We come from the same place, but you will never give it up

It's where they make you feel powerful

That's why you think I make you feel small

But that's your projection, it's not my rejection

You knew that’s what you were, anyone could tell without even knowing you. But calling yourself that, hit you differently.

“Come here,” he extended his hand at you, and you didn’t have any other choice but take it and climb into bed again. “How long have you been coming here?”

“Six months.”

I put my heart on the line for the very first time

Because you asked me to, and now you've gone and changed your mind

But loving you was a breakthrough

You saw his head moving up and down slowly, but he was still oddly quiet.

He was still trying to organize the thoughts inside his mind as he saw you absently picking on your stockings. How could he put into words the way he felt about you?

“Y/N over the last couple of months, you’ve been the only one willing to spend some time with me, when everyone else finds an excuse to walk out the door, you’ve been the constant of my days, or nights for the matter.”

I saw what my heart can really do

Now some other man will get the love I have for you

'Cause you don't care, oh-oh-oh

Was he going to ask you to stop coming every night? You couldn’t speak, terrified of saying something that would piss him off. You had fallen for him secretly, blame it to the intimacy, the frequent late night calls, the way please took over him, but you did and deep down you knew it was all wrong.

“You’re not like the others, you don’t take and leave. You fill my glass with whiskey before you go or you pick up my clothes and fold them… you’ve listened to all my shit without judging me.”

Confused, you gave him a long look. “Tommy, what are you try-”

“I’ve feelings for you, Y/N.”

“That can’t be true, I’m a whore… men like you don’t fall in love with women like me.”

Consistency is the gift to give for free, and it is key

To ever keep, to ever keep a woman like me

“Women like you?” He was suddenly kneeling in bed in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks. “Who says that?”

“Everybody knows that.”

This was just a fantasy, a dream. You were worthless, the worst of the worst.

“Just so you to know, I’m not so different than you… we just sell different parts of ourselves, Y/N.”

His eyes fixed on you, his intense gaze penetrating every layer, tearing down every single wall. And as he realized your guard was coming down, he pulled you in for a kiss, breaking the only rule you set when you first walked into his bedroom; no kissing.

That first kiss felt totally different to anything you’ve experienced until now, because men usually take what they want and leave right away, but Tommy took his time to explore your lips, the way they molded to his, tentatively, switching his pace and tilting his head from time to time as if he didn’t want to leave a single spot unattended.

He broke apart allowing you to take a deep breath, your head was spinning.

“Beneath, there’s a good woman, I just know it.” His knuckles carefully caressed your chin. You wanted to believe him, but you had been used in the past you no longer knew who you were.

He saw the hesitation in your eyes, so he took your hand and placed it over his heart. “Y/N I’m not going to hurt you, I genuinely fell for you, for he woman you are, for the little things I know about you… for the way you allowed me to be myself when the door is closed.”

He had been fighting it for so long, but with you he was allowed to strip down not only from his clothes, but from the heartless cold bastard he had to be in front of everyone else.

“Will you give me the chance?”

Looking down you fought against the lump that formed in your throat. “But how will you deal with my past and all the burden I’ve?”

“I’m not going to erase it, just like you can’t delete mine,” his fingers sunk in your disheveled curls, “but we can look forward and take it from there, together.”

As a single tear slid through your cheek, his thumb came to wipe it away, right before he crashed his lips once more and you believed him with all your heart because deep down you knew he was right.

A woman like you wasn’t so different than a man like him.

***

Master list

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while now, guess it was time to post it, and I apologize because although I absolutely adore the concept I have been feeling a bit down and I’m not sure I was able to portray what I intended to…

Like always I’m so grateful if you decide to share your thoughts x

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @rangerelik @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989

[fanaticsnail]

Swing - Part 1

This is another chapter of the Dance Series. Masterlist here.

Word Count: 3,910

Song Accompaniment Suggestions: 1, 2, 3

Video Dance Reference: 1, 2

Edit: leg extension lift reference here at 1:50

The lights resonating from the large vanity mirror blared a vibrant yellow light, illuminating the green room to the side of the red and white tent you had called home for the past year. After running away from home to hone your skills as an acrobat, you found a new family within the Buggy Pirates; under their infamous blue haired clown-captain.

“Hey, partner?” a voice called to you after pulling back the tent sheet to reveal his enthusiastic face.

You turned in your chair to fully look at him, a warm smile falling to your features in welcome.

“Yes, partner?” you asked him, quirking your head to the side at the title he’d given you; whilst returning it to him.

His smile teetered off to a warm smirk before he fully entered the green room and took in your form. You had just begun meticulously removing your stage makeup, swiping at your face with a dampened rag and soap solution. He reached down and claimed the material from within your hands and sat against the benchtop of the vanity, reaching over to wipe your face with the dampened cloth.

“Captain has given us a night off,” he said, wiping at your cheeks lightly; prompting you to scrunch your nose at him as he continued: “some old friend has come to see him, apparently. Real intimidating-type if you ask me.”

You hummed in response, allowing your acrobatic partner to continue to swab at your cheeks and eyes with the material to rid yourself of your thickened face paint; revealing your bare skin to the air.

“So,” you asked, closing your lips in as your partner brushed over your nose with the towel, mumbling: “what are we doing tonight?”

He chuckled at you before laying down the towel with a nod to his handiwork; “we’re planning on a little party; a celebration, if you will.”

You downturned your lips and nodded with your eyes wide in happy surprise. You glanced past your partner’s form to look over your face for more of the paint, arching your neck up to look beneath your chin for any missed skin.

“Alright,” you nodded, turning your eyes back to him, “give me a couple minutes to get out of this leotard,” you gestured down at your body; a solid, dazzling unitard with darkened rhinestones reaching from your neck down to your ankles clutching to every crevasse of your skin for free movement. Your acrobatic partner’s eyes followed your gaze as he nodded in agreement, you adding: “I’ll be out there shortly.”

“Get into something light,” he nodded over to your duffel bag of your regular attire, “I still want to throw you a little, if you would be up for it.”

You giggled at him, scrunching your nose up to display your playful expression: “absolutely, Jac. You want to try that leg extension? Really show off for the boss?”

He nodded profusely, reaching to take your hands within his own: “I want nothing more than to demonstrate all of your hard work. You’ve trained for a long while to manage that trick and I really want the Boss to see it.”

A giggle once again released itself from your chest and melodically lifted the air at your partner’s praise, prompting you to rise to your feet and release your hands from his grip.

“Our hard work, Jac,” you reiterated to your acrobatic partner, “you do as much work as I do as the base. You deserve more recognition than I do.”

He reprimanded you by raising his index finger to your nose and tapped it lightly, prompting you to close your eyes and scrunch up your nose against his playful discipline.

“Whatever the case may be,” he continued on, you reopening your eyes to gaze at him fondly, “we’re all going to be dancing tonight. I think Cabaji even said he wanted to give you a little twirl.”

You laughed at his comment, turning to push against the back of the wooden stool to slot it in to neatly fold itself beneath the desk of the lit vanity. Turning to meet with Jac again, you asked: “what style is on the agenda tonight? We just doing jigs like the good ol’ days, or something a bit more,” you reached up and caressed his cheek with a small giggle; “sensual?”

At this comment, the two of you broke into a loud uproar of laughter. Neither of you had harboured any feelings of anything more than comradery between you; small flirtatious touches here and there, more out of boredom than anything leading to something other than friendship. You had been working as a team for almost eight months, him being the perfect masculine balance and strength to your feminine energy with flexibility and fluidity through acrobatic expression.

“We’re opting for a bit of a mash-up tonight, I think,” he suggested, “might even try trios, if a few of us are keen on it.”

Your interest immediately became peaked, noting that several of the trapeze and juggling crew had wanted to explore the possibility of engaging in dance-like skills; being eager to learn new skills at your hands. The excitement that grew within your partner’s chest began to rhythmically pump its way within your own ribs in anticipation.

It had been a while since you both had the possibility to explore a night away from your duties as an acrobatic duo and join in with the whole crew in recreation. You knew that Jac had his eye on a particular minstrel and wanted to show off his skills with you in front of them, hopefully leading to something more exciting to pull him away from the crowd.

“Okay, okay!” you laughed at him, tapping his chest and ushering him out of the green room, “let me get into some loose clothes and I’ll be there in a hot minute.”

He skipped to his feet and made to exit the canvas flap of the red and white tent, only halting as you added; “make sure you get the right music sorted! I have to really feel the beat to get moving!”

He nodded before shrouding his body from view in his release of the tent-wall door. You laughed again before moving the lycra material from your shoulders and releasing the material from your arms; ushering the tightness from your body to pool at your feet.

-

Bored were the ever-watching, haunted yellow eyes of the sword-master; observing the troop of unhinged Buggy-Pirates dance with one another. He swirled a short-stemmed goblet between his index and middle fingers to oxidise the crimson liquid within. He released a disinterested sigh as he raised the goblet to his lips, taking a long sip of the wine; rolling the flavour over his pallet as he did so.

He lay reclining in the bleachers of the large circus tent, his great sword; Yoru lay beside him on the wooden bench. Raking his eyes through the crowd, he witnessed the colourful captain he had decided to pay visit to linking arms with several members of his crew and chortling gleefully as he spun with them.

The attention of Dracule Mihawk was drawn to an approaching figure with a warm smile as they singled out a member of the troop and began to effortlessly maneuver their body to playfully dance with them. He leaned forward, brows knitting together with interest and subtle curiosity. He could barely feel the shift of weight next to him as the clown-captain plopped himself down next to him on his lefthand side to witness the glee falling onto his crew.

“Something catch your hawk-eyes?” Buggy teased him, following with a loud roar of laughter at his own joke. Mihawk chose to not acknowledge him, completely transfixed by the figure he spotted as they danced with their partner.

Buggy teetered off his laughter, furrowing his brows before following the unblinking path of Mihawk’s undivided fascination. His breath hitched in his throat as he witnessed his two prized acrobats dancing so playfully together; several thrown aerial tricks being utilised throughout the exchange while continuing to lazily dance with each other for the slower moments.

“Ohh-,” Buggy sighed out in a drawn out breath, a large grin falling upon his face as he brought his gaze back to the swashbuckler next to him, “-I see you’ve found my acrobat.”

Mihawk glanced in the corner of his eye, narrowing them slightly at the captain before flickering them back to the couple who were laughing while continuing to spin around in the large ring of the red and white tent. Buggy chuckled and clapped his right hand upon Mihawk’s shoulder, shaking him a little at the impact.

“Well,” Buggy shrugged, bringing his face closer to the finely maintained cheek of the sword wielder, “you can’t have her. She’s my favourite.”

Mihawk immediately turned his posture towards the clown beside him, prompting Buggy to scuttle slightly back in his seat with widened eyes at the intensity of the yellow, hawk-like gaze.

“Oh, can’t I?” the sword master smirked with narrowed gaze at the clown, relishing in his discomfort at the proximity. Buggy shifted against the wooden bleacher he was sitting against, leaning back onto his hands as the sword wielder continued to stoop over his retreat.

“N-no, you can’t,” Buggy stuttered over his words, frowning deeply at the implication. He trailed his gaze back to the acrobats as they continued their playfully flirtatious dance with each other, prompting Mihawk to follow the clown’s gaze. They both watched as the two acrobats fell their bodies back to back with large smiles falling over their faces.

The woman that held their current fascination extended her right leg to hold itself completely vertically in front of her face, her hands gripping the male acrobat’s hips behind her to steady herself against him. He reached up his hands and circled them around the foot above his head, supporting her ankle within his firm grip. In one swell movement, she swept her grip upwards atop his forearms as he bore down against her leg; whipping her upwards to be raised above him. She steadied herself against his grip, remaining on display and far above the ground in the arms of her partner. Her leg continued to be extended in its elevation, graceful in her movements while the male acrobat laughed before dropping her from his grasp to cradle her against his chest.

Both Buggy and Mihawk’s eyes widened at the swift motion: the male acrobat a perfect frame for the woman’s flawless painting. The acrobats continued to sweep throughout the room, interchanging partners but always finding each other amongst the crowd to perform difficult tricks within the dance.

“She’s excellent,” Mihawk commented, continuing his unblinking and undivided attention against the form of the acrobat.

Buggy huffed out a breath in resolve, straightening his torso while Mihawk shifted from his prowl to fall back into the seated position to continue to watch the graceful movements of the acrobats within the ring.

“Again,” Buggy’s voice broke through, drawing the swordsman’s attention back to him, “you can’t have her. She’s special.”

Mihawk hummed, raising his goblet back to his lips and taking a small sip of the liquid within. Buggy rose to his feet and made his way into the ring of his crew dancing together, the music teetering down as they all clapped at the musicians playing.

“We shall see,” Mihawk smirked against the rim of his glass, keeping his vision completely fixed on the acrobatic pair as the clown-captain approached them.

-

Twirling once more in Jac’s arms, you came to a halt and cheered in praise to the minstrels performing their music in absolute joy and adoration. Jac cheered with vigour at the singer of the troop, celebrating her mastery of vocal skills as she took a small curtsey; a warm blush rising to her cheeks. You flittered your knowing gaze between them, prompting you to place your hand atop your acrobatic partner’s shoulder to bring his attention back towards you.

Your eyes met, you shot him a wink and urged his pursuit of the musician with your chin before scrunching up your nose with a smile. He sprung immediately into action, fleeing from your grasp and running to circle his arms around the musician, her laughter springing melodically from her lips as he spun her in his arms.

A presence found itself beside you, a hand placed firmly against your hip; alerting you to their attention. You turned with the arm to face the individual, meeting with the finely painted face of your captain looking at you with joy and pride.

“Acrobat,” he cooed at you affectionately, bringing his other arm to rest on your hip.

“Captain,” you smiled in return, raising your hands up to lace around his neck fondly. His gaze softened, the teal-eyes baring down into your own eyes with warmth.

“Are you up for another round?” he asked you, tweaking his left eyebrow upwards in question; his tone playful.

“Of course, Captain,” you nodded eagerly while unlacing your arms from around his neck and finding his hands, “what are you thinking?”

He hummed in response, leading you away from the crowd and into the centre of the ring. The crowd of crew parted for your entrance, some taking seats to watch your exchange while others retrieved tankards of ale or cups of water to replenish themselves from their prior overexertion. He released your left hand from within his right and twirled you out towards the floor, still holding your right within his left as he did so.

“I’m feeling something light,” he quirked his head to the side, eyes half-lidded in affection. He pulled you in towards him, he in turn spinning to face away from you to queue the musicians to play. Removing his hat and large coat, throwing them to the side of the tent, landing in a heap on the floor; your gaze immediately found its way to waist-line of his brown leather pants. Without hesitation, you brought your right hand over to lightly tap his left ass-cheek, laughing as you spun yourself away form him; his own laughter following his initial shock at the action.

“Keeping it playful, are we?” Buggy purred at you, a small growl in his tone. His eyes widened before narrowing at you, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Don’t I always?” you returned his smirk before breaking into a wide grin.

He loosened his mustard-coloured cravat and circled his neck to release it of any tension as the minstrels began to play; up tempo and light melody to set the atmosphere between you. You rose your right hand out as an indication for him to take your hand within his own; an action which he readily participated in. He clasped your hand within his own, drawing your body into his while lacing your right hand around his neck in a swift motion.

Dancing with your captain was something you could never find yourself getting bored of. Although it had been a while since the last time the entire crew had an opportunity to express themselves away from their duties as members of his circus; when you did all have such an opportunity thrust upon you, your captain was almost the first to come to you for a dance. You had an uncanny ability to match-energies with your partners, being able to draw the best out of them while you moved with them. The captain would always find your improvisational movements comforting, knowing you would readily reciprocate any action he would bring to the dance free of any fear of rejection.

He held your waist with his right hand, pulling your body to lay flush against his own. You pressed your forehead against his and leant into him, falling to your toes as he pulled you around in a circular motion. As the music picked up, you swung your hips to the beat, prompting a similar reaction from your captain as you did so. You drug your hand over his shoulders and he released his hands from your waist as you circled around him, continuing to slide your fingertips over his chest and back as you did so; feeling the crevasses of his muscular and athletic physique beneath his waistcoat.

Buggy felt any prior uneasiness from speaking with his broad-hat wearing guest flitter away, your actions making him feel as he is the only man to have ever peaked your interest; even though you and the sword wielder were yet to have a single conversation. When you brought your body back in front of him, he took your right hand in his left and twirled you; walking away from you to continue to keep you at arms distance away. He admired your form as you continued to match his energy, swaying your hips with a large smile on your face.

As the clown-captain took an exceptionally large stride outwards, you dropped to your knees to the floor and extended your back outwards to slide gracefully beneath his legs and rise back to your feet as you re-emerged from the other side of his body. Buggy began to laugh whole heartedly, feeling you already circle his body to reclaim his hands within your own.

“You’re wonderful,” he praised you, clasping your right hand within his left and lacing his right hand behind the middle of your back to bring you against him.

“So are you, Captain,” you laughed at him, allowing him to rock your body from side to side, extending your hips and sliding on your toes to keep up with him.

He managed to pull you into two spins, spinning his own body to face away from you again and bringing your hands to his shoulders. You watched as your captain did a particularly overemphatic hip gyration, prompting you to raise your left leg upwards and mock a playful kick to his left ass-cheek; prompting him to laugh whole heartedly, spinning himself again to face you.

“This is why you’re my favourite,” he muttered in a voice only you could hear, prompting you to arch your eyebrow upward to lightly chastise him.

“You’re not meant to have favourites, sir,” you mocked a tone of playful discipline, bringing your right hand from within his and wrapping it around his neck and pressing your forehead against his once more. You swore you heard him moan when you referred to him as ‘sir’, but it could’ve been your imagination.

“And where was that written on the sign up sheet, hm?” he hummed in a jesting tone, reaching upwards to clasp your hand within his once more. He twirled you once, enjoying the way he had complete control over your actions as he lead you through the song.

You felt eyes watching you, prompting you to flitter your gaze from your captain and seek out its source. Yellow ever-watchful eyes met with yours, intensity baring onto your body; prompting a pink flush to reach your chest and upper ears. He was neatly manicured, his shirt laying open to reveal his bare chiselled torso to you. His broad, feathered hat and his aura of confidence the complete opposite of your current dance partner and captain.

Shaking your head, you brought your attention back to the blue-haired man in your arms, feeling him become slightly uneasy at your teetering attention.

Noticing his contentment and humour falling from his face, you instinctively raised your left hand to rest on his cheek instead of his shoulder; prompting his blue-green irises to meet with your own. You searched within his orbs, flittering between them indecisively. An almost sorrowful expression fell on his face at your search before a small smile once again found its way to his red-tinted lips.

“Saw the guest, did you?” he whispered against your palm while spinning with you, “what do you make of him?”

He pushed lightly on your torso, bringing your body away from its close proximity to him and twirling you with his left hand.

“He expressed an interest in you, you know,” he uttered when bringing you back against him, his right hand snaking around your back to once again sway with you. You creased your brows at the comment, noting the light atmosphere began to turn dark at his words.

“Captain,” you stated firmly, bringing his eyes back to you from their current position looking at his crew. Once his eyes met yours, you felt him melt against your gaze.

“Yes, Acrobat?” he asked you softly, indicating for you to continue your train of thought. You sighed deeply, the music teetering off to completion but neither of you breaking from your hold on one another.

“When I’m in your arms, I’m yours: your dance partner, your woman,” you reassured him, reaching your left hand up again to claim his right cheek, “you have my complete and undivided attention always, sir. I’m yours.”

He sighed against your caress, tilting his face into your hand and pressing a feather-light kiss against your palm; prompting your breath to hitch in your throat slightly.

“Only while we dance?” he smirked, releasing your palm from his lips and searching your eyes for any further indication of your affections.

“In all aspects of my servitude to you, Captain,” you nodded your head, releasing his cheek from your caress, “I’m yours-.”

He laced both arms around your waist and hoisted you into the air, prompting you to squeal against the sudden movement. Buggy laughed whole-heartedly at your ill-preparation of his movement, twirling you around in a circle while remaining hoisted into the air. Your gaze fell to the flex of his shoulders and forearms as he held you firmly, prompting the raw blush to reappear on your un-made-up features.

“Good!” he yelled before planting your feet back against the ground and lowering his voice, “because you’re my favourite.”

You shook your head and used your right hand to place a small tap against his chest, playfully reprimanding him again for his comment. He chuckled at your action, unlacing his arms from their place against your hips and trailing them up your sides to take your hands within his once more. You shuddered slightly at his touch before taking his hands within your own.

Throughout the whole interaction between you, the ever watching hawk-eyes continued to hold firm against your body; watching how effortlessly you moved with your captain and with your former acrobatic partner. The way you made the ridiculous clown-captain look as if he was the most important man in the world, your subtle touches of your hands brushing against his skin tenderly, your playful smile almost prompting one to fall upon his moustache-clad lip in response.

It was there Dracule Mihawk knew he had to have you in his arms. He didn’t even care if he had to share you with the ridiculous clown he had come to visit with; he wanted to experience the way you made the ‘flashy fool’ look and feel with the way you moved, your body flowing effortlessly against his. He initially ignored the heat rising steadily in his chest and the way his breath hitched in his throat at witnessing your skillful flexibility and dexterity in movements with your acrobatic partner. After watching the full dance between your blue-haired captain and your body, he knew he had to experience that intensity before he left. Again, he found himself willing to share you. He knew he wanted you, at least just once.

(Edit, Part 2 here)

[from-memphis-with-love]

Songbird - Chapter 2 - After Hours

Summary: Valerie meets Elvis again, again by chance. And this time, it's in a far more intimate setting.

Author's notes: Edit alert. I am constantly tooling and retooling my fics. To me, they never seem finished when I reread them. I've been taking the time to hone my craft and take online writing classes (yes, I am that loser who wants to become a better writer so I can regale you all with smutty Elvis fic), so I hope you will indulge. I am actively working on it and I believe I have it right this time. Enjoy!

You know that moment when everything's gone so spectacularly wrong that all you can do is laugh? Well, I wasn't laughing. I was slumped over the International Hotel's bar like a marionette with cut strings, wondering if it was possible to actually die of embarrassment. The doctors would probably call it something fancy, but the death certificate would tell the real story: Here lies Valerie, who bombed her Sinatra audition so bad they stopped her halfway through.

The bartender looked like he'd stepped straight out of a movie about Vegas in its golden age - crisp white jacket, perfectly groomed silver hair, the kind of face that had seen it all and wasn't impressed by any of it anymore. He glided over like smoke.

"What'll it be, miss?"

I'd never ordered a real drink in my life. Back home, the wildest I got was box wine and even that made me giggle. But tonight? Tonight felt like a good time to start.

"Gin and tonic. Make it a double."

The words felt foreign in my mouth, like trying on someone else's clothes. But isn't that what you're supposed to do after you crash and burn? Drown your sorrows in bottom-shelf liquor while the bartender pretends to care about your troubles?

My mind kept rewinding to that awful audition, like a broken record stuck on the worst song ever made. My voice had shook worse than Elvis's hips (and there was a comparison I didn't need in my head right then). The piano player had actually winced. And those other girls, the ones with their perfect hair and professional headshots, they'd smirked like they knew all along I didn't belong there.

The drink appeared in front of me like magic. I took a sip and immediately regretted it. Tasted like Christmas trees. But I kept drinking anyway, because that's what people do in situations like this, right? They sit in dark bars and drink gin and pretend they're in a film noir about beautiful losers.

That's when I saw him.

You ever have one of those moments that feels like fate just reached down and flicked you right between the eyes? There in the mirror behind the bar, I caught a flash of red hair that made my stomach drop like an express elevator. Red, Elvis's mountain of a bodyguard, was heading straight for me with the kind of determined look that meant trouble.

"Well I'll be damned," he boomed, voice carrying across the bar like thunder. "If it ain't that pretty little songbird from the elevator."

My drink tried to go down the wrong pipe. He remembered that? More importantly, he remembered that ridiculous nickname Elvis had given me? 

"Uh, hi there," I managed to squeak out. Real smooth, Valerie. Real smooth.

Red's grin could have lit up the Strip. "You clean up real nice. Mr. Burrows know you're here drowning those sorrows all by your lonesome?"

Mr. Burrows. That's what they called Elvis when they were trying to be discreet, though why they bothered was beyond me. As if anyone could mistake him for just another guy named Jon. The memory of our elevator encounter hit me like a shot of whiskey - all heat and dizzy promise. The way his voice had wrapped around my name like silk, how his presence had made the air feel electric...

"Oh, I'm sure he has more important things to worry about than little old me," I said, aiming for breezy and probably landing somewhere around desperate. "I was just about to call it a night."

"That so?" Red's grin turned sly as a cat in a creamery. "Well, it just so happens the boss is having a little private soirée up in his suite right about now. What do you say we head up there and turn that frown upside down?"

My mama always said I had more curiosity than common sense. Standing there in that bar with Red's invitation hanging in the air like cigarette smoke, I knew she was right. The smart play was to finish my drink, go up to my room, and catch the first flight back to Chicago tomorrow morning.

But when did I ever make the smart play?

"Lead the way, Red."

The trip up to Elvis's suite was like ascending to Mount Olympus, if Olympus had shag carpeting and gold-flecked wallpaper. Red kept up a steady stream of chatter, but I barely heard him over the thundering of my own heart. What was I doing? Walking straight into the lion's den like some lamb dressed for dinner.

When we reached the mahogany door - the kind of door that whispered "money" in twelve different languages - a man I'd later learn was Jerry Schilling answered our knock. The wall of sound that hit us was like walking into a beehive: dozens of conversations buzzing, ice cubes clinking against crystal, and somewhere, someone was playing "Great Balls of Fire" on what had to be the most expensive piano I'd ever seen.

The suite itself was pure Elvis - all crushed velvet and religious iconography, like a bordello had a baby with the Vatican. A small crowd milled about: men in sharp suits, women who looked like they'd stepped off magazine covers, all of them moving in invisible orbits around...

And then I saw him.

You know how sometimes a room just seems to shift, like reality hiccups and everything reorganizes itself around a single point? That's what happened when my eyes found Elvis. He was holding court in the center of the room, sprawled in what could only be described as a throne, his long legs stretched out in front of him like he owned not just the chair but the very concept of sitting. A tumbler of amber liquid dangled from those ring-laden fingers, and sweet Jesus, that shirt... black silk unbuttoned just enough to make a good girl think bad thoughts.

Two women flanked him like matching bookends - a blonde who looked like she'd been poured into her dress, and a brunette whose legs went on for days. The brunette was trailing her fingers down his chest, purring something about taking a ride in his Cadillac. The kind of thing that should have been ridiculous but somehow wasn't, not with the way Elvis's lips curled up at the corners, lazy and amused like a cat with a bowlful of cream.

I should have felt invisible. Should have felt like a sparrow in a room full of peacocks. Instead, somehow, impossibly, his gaze found mine across the crowd. Those eyes, blue as a Memphis summer sky, locked onto me like heat-seeking missiles.

And just like that, the air changed.

A man who introduced himself as Sonny West materialized at my elbow, drink in hand. His face was all dimples and good humor, the kind of guy who probably never met a stranger. "You look like you could use this more than me," he said, offering me something that smelled strong enough to strip paint.

I took it because, hell, what else was I going to do? Standing there watching Elvis with those two glamazons draped over him like living accessories was enough to drive anyone to drink. The brunette - who I'd mentally dubbed Colette because she looked like a Colette - was doing her best to crawl into his lap without actually moving.

But here's the thing about Elvis Presley that nobody tells you: even when he's looking at someone else, you can feel when he's watching you. It's like standing in the sun with your eyes closed - you just know. And brother, was he watching me.

The Memphis Mafia - that's what they called Elvis's entourage - adopted me like a stray kitten. Before I knew what was happening, I was deep in a heated debate with Lamar about breakfast foods, of all things. These guys were like a bunch of overgrown boys playing in a very expensive sandbox, and somehow they'd decided I belonged there.

"Biscuits," I insisted, probably louder than necessary. The drink Sonny had given me was doing its job. "Fluffy, buttery perfection. Pancakes are just... flat disappointment circles."

Lamar clutched his considerable belly like I'd personally insulted his mama. "Blasphemy! Pancakes are God's own breakfast food!"

"Y'all are both wrong," Jerry chimed in, grinning like he'd just won the lottery. "Waffles. Those little squares? Perfect syrup holders. That's just science."

I was laughing, actually laughing, when I heard it. That voice, smooth as aged whiskey, cutting through the noise like a hot knife through butter.

"Valerie."

Just my name. That's all it was. But the way Elvis said it made it sound like a song he'd been practicing his whole life. I turned, and there he was, standing close enough that I could smell his cologne - something expensive and spicy that probably cost more than my rent.

"Come here, pretty girl," he said, soft enough that only I could hear. "Let's you and me get better acquainted."

Colette the Brunette huffed like someone had punctured her, shooting me a look that could have curdled milk. But Elvis didn't even notice. His eyes were fixed on me like I was the only person in the room, and Lord help me, but I was moving before I realized my feet had gotten the message.

You ever touch an electric fence? That little shock that starts in your fingers and races up your arm? That's what it felt like when Elvis's hand brushed mine, guiding me toward the piano. Every nerve ending suddenly woke up and started singing hallelujah.

"You play?" he asked, those blue eyes twinkling with something that wasn't quite innocence.

I ran my fingers over the keys, smooth as silk under my touch. "A little. My daddy taught me before he passed."

Something shifted in Elvis's expression then - understanding, maybe, or recognition. "Music's in your blood," he said softly. "Like me."

He slid onto the piano bench like liquid grace, patting the space beside him. Now, there's a moment in every girl's life when she knows she's about to make either the best or worst decision of her existence. Sitting down next to Elvis Presley, close enough that our thighs touched through silk and cotton, that was mine.

"You know 'Heart and Soul'?"

I had to laugh. It was like asking if I knew how to breathe. "Who doesn't?"

His fingers found the keys first, and mine followed like they'd been doing it all their lives. The melody rose soft and sweet, barely audible under the party chatter. Then Elvis started to sing, and I swear to God, the air in the room changed. Became thicker, heavier, like honey dripping from a spoon.

"Heart and soul, I fell in love with you..."

He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised in challenge, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth that would have made a saint think sinful thoughts. Well, mama didn't raise no coward. I opened my mouth and let my voice join his.

"Heart and soul, the way a fool would do..."

You know how sometimes two voices just... fit? Like pieces of a puzzle you didn't even know was incomplete? That's what happened when Elvis and I sang together. Our voices twined around each other like lovers' hands, his deep velvet wrapping around my higher notes until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

The room had gone quiet - that special kind of quiet that feels like holding your breath. But I barely noticed. I was lost in the music, in the warmth of Elvis's thigh pressed against mine, in the way his eyes kept finding mine as we sang.

"Madly... Because you held me tight..."

His voice dropped lower, intimate, like he was telling me a secret.

"And stole a kiss in the night..."

Our fingers stilled on the keys. The last note hung in the air between us like a question nobody dared to ask. Elvis turned to face me, and sweet Jesus, the look in his eyes... It was like being caught in a spotlight and wrapped in velvet all at once.

"Valerie," he murmured, my name a prayer on those lips that had made him famous. His hand came up to brush my cheek, and I swear I felt that touch all the way down to my toes.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The world had narrowed down to just this: Elvis's eyes, dark with something that made my stomach flip, and the whisper of his fingers against my skin.

That's when Colette materialized like a bad penny, slamming her drink down on the piano hard enough to make the strings vibrate. "Elvis, baby," she purred, but there was steel under that sugar. "I'm simply parched. Won't you fix me a drink?"

Now, I expected Elvis to jump at the chance. After all, what was I compared to this goddess in a dress that probably cost more than my car? But Elvis just smiled - not the megawatt grin he was famous for, but something smaller, more polite, more dismissive.

"Not right now, darlin'," he said, never taking his eyes off me. "I'm a bit busy at the moment."

If looks could kill, Colette's glare would have reduced me to a small pile of ash on that piano bench. But Elvis's attention had already shifted back to me, like she was just another piece of furniture in his very expensive suite.

"I gotta say," he murmured, voice low enough that only I could hear, "you sure know how to captivate a man's attention. Ain't too many gals out there who can tear me away from a pretty face batting her lashes my way."

The thing about Elvis - and this is something all those magazines and fan clubs don't tell you - is that when he really looks at you, it's like being the only star in the sky. Like every light in Vegas has suddenly focused on you alone.

We fell back into playing, our hands dancing over the keys like they'd been doing this dance for years instead of minutes. Every now and then, our fingers would brush, and I swear it felt like touching a live wire. The kind of electricity that should come with a warning label.

That's when I spotted them - Red and Sonny, going at it in the corner like two roosters in a barnyard. I nudged Elvis with my elbow, nodding toward the brewing storm. "Looks like trouble in paradise. What's eating them?"

Elvis followed my gaze, and his grin was pure mischief. The kind of grin that probably got him in trouble in grade school. "Those two? Hell, could be anything. Whose turn it is to make the midnight burger run, who's got the better car, whether Kong could take Godzilla in a fair fight..."

"Godzilla," I said without hesitation. "Fire breath beats opposable thumbs any day."

"Now see, that's where you're wrong, darlin'," Elvis countered, eyes sparkling like sunlight on water. "Kong's got the reach advantage."

We watched the argument escalate, Elvis leaning close enough that I could feel his breath on my ear. "Five bucks says Sonny throws his drink in the next minute."

Maybe it was the gin, maybe it was the way his proximity made my skin hum like a tuning fork, but I heard myself say, "You're on. My money's on Red putting him in a headlock first."

The next few seconds played out like a scene from a Three Stooges routine. Sonny's wild gesticulation sent his drink flying straight into Red's face. There was a moment of perfect stillness, like the whole room was holding its breath. Then Red lunged, catching Sonny in a headlock that would have made a wrestling coach proud.

Elvis and I lost it. Complete, total hysteria. The kind of laughter that comes from your toes and takes your whole body with it. I ended up half-collapsed against him, his arm around my shoulders, both of us wheezing like we'd run a marathon.

"Guess... we both... win that bet," Elvis managed between gasps, and I could feel his laughter rumbling through his chest where I was pressed against him.

That's when someone cleared their throat behind us - the kind of throat-clearing that sounds like a period at the end of a sentence. We sprang apart like teenagers caught necking at a drive-in.

Lamar stood there looking like the cat who'd caught both the canary and the cream, fixing us with a knowing smirk that made my cheeks burn. "Hate to interrupt you two, but the natives are getting restless." He jerked his head toward the crowd. "Big Man's here, E."

Even I knew who "Big Man" meant - Kirk Kerkorian, owner of the International Hotel and the man who'd shelled out big money to bring Elvis back to live performing. The kind of man who could make or break careers with a nod.

Elvis dragged a hand down his face, and for just a second, I saw something flicker there - frustration, maybe, or resignation. The mask of the entertainer sliding back into place. But when his fingers found mine under the piano's cover, giving them a quick squeeze, that felt real. That felt like just us.

"Duty calls, I suppose." His eyes met mine, dark with promise. "Don't go anywhere, alright? I'm not done with you yet."

The way he said it made heat pool in my belly, like I'd swallowed a shot of pure sunshine. I could only nod, my voice lost somewhere between my brain and my mouth, as he stood and moved into the crowd.

I watched him work the room like he was born to it - which, let's face it, he was. Elvis Presley in his element was something to see. He had that rare gift of making everyone feel like the most important person in the world, if only for a moment. A group of older women were let in, clutching programs and photos, and he signed every single one with the same megawatt smile.

But every so often, his eyes would find mine across the room, hot enough to melt steel. A reminder that I was still on his mind, even as he played the gracious host.

That's when it hit me - what I was doing, where I was, who I was playing with. This wasn't some local boy at a church social. This was Elvis Presley, and he was married, and I was so far out of my depth I couldn't even see the shore anymore.

I slipped away like smoke, keeping to the edges of the room. Sometimes the smart choice and the right choice are the same thing, even if it feels like ripping off your own skin to do it.

I'd barely made it to my door when I heard footsteps behind me. Fast ones.

"Valerie, wait!"

It was Joe Esposito, Elvis's right-hand man, slightly out of breath like he'd been chasing me down the hallway. He pressed something into my palm - a ticket, but not just any ticket. Front row, VIP access to tomorrow night's show.

"Boss wants you in his private booth," Joe said, grinning like he knew exactly what kind of bomb he was dropping. "Wear something pretty. Elvis likes his girls dolled up nice."

He was gone before I could process what had happened, leaving me standing there with a piece of cardstock that felt heavy as gold in my hand.

I looked down at the ticket, running my thumb over the embossed lettering. Tomorrow night. Elvis wanted me there tomorrow night, in his private booth no less. The kind of invitation that would make those women in the lobby sell their souls.

Standing there in that quiet hallway, I knew I was in trouble. The kind of trouble that starts with a capital T and rhymes with double. But as I got ready for bed, I couldn't stop grinning like a fool.

Only one problem: I didn't have a damn thing pretty enough to wear to an Elvis Presley show.

Taglist: @whositmcwhatsit  @ellie-24  @arrolyn1114 @missmaywemeetagain  @be-my-ally  @vintageshanny  @prompted-wordsmith @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @austinbutlersgirl67@lala1267 @thatbanditqueen @dontcrydaddy @lovingdilfs @elvispresleygf @plasticfantasticl0ver @ab4eva @presleysweetheart @chasingwildflowers @elvispresleywife @uh-all-shook-up @xxquinnxx @edgeofrealitys-blog@velvetprvsley @woundmetender @avengen @richardslady121 @presleyhearted @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters@lookingforrainbows @elvisalltheway101 @sissylittlefeather @eliseinmemphis@tacozebra051 @thetaoofzoe @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @crash-and-cure @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @devilsflowerr@dirtyelvisfant4sy @elvislittleone @foreverdolly @getyourpresleyfix@gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @p0lksaladannie @doll-elvis @tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997 @myradiaz@livelaughelvis @deke-rivers-1957 @jhoneybees @atleastpleasetelephone @eapep @elvispresleywife @that-hotdog @landlockedmermaid77 @sissylittlefeather @kawaiiwitchy

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- Another Tour

Part 40

2014

23rd May

Tour started last month and while everything has gone well, mine and Liams relationship has started to crack again. I text him, but he won’t reply, or I’ll ring him and it will go to voice mail then he will reply days later with ‘sorry I was busy’

I’m sat in my dressing room texting Emma when I suddenly get a text off Liam.

The only thing I can think off is to go to the boys dressing room. Leaving my phone in mine, I walk to the door opposite mine and without knocking I enter

“I know your in your boxers and frankly I don’t give a shit. I just.. I don’t want to be in there on my own” my voice cracks which makes everyone look at me seriously. Harry pulls up his jogging trousers before cautiously walking towards me

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Louis asks

“Liam” the flood gates open and I can’t speak. Harry immediately wraps me up in his arms and strokes my hair

“Shhh your ok” he whispers

“What did I do?” I shake my head

“Not you. Liam broke up with me”

“He what!” Niall shouts “he rang you just before a show and broke up with you?”

“He text me” I sniffle into Harry’s shoulder

“What a dick” Niall scoff

“Ok, here’s what we will do. Well tell everyone you have food poisoning that way you don’t have to do the next….”

“No I’m doing the show tonight” I cut Louis off

“YN you can’t be serious” Harry says pulling away and looking at me with wide eyes

“Liam and I we’re together for 9 months. Yes it’s a long time but it’s not even a year. It’s not like we were married or anything”

“We’re here for you” Liam says and the rest of the boys all join in on a group hug

“I know thank you”

27th May- News Article

Liam Hemsworth Announces Break Up With YN YLN

27.05.2014

After 9 months of dating the couple have called it quits. The last time we saw Hemsworth and YLN together was when they appeared at the BRIT Awards at the beginning of the year. YN posted a Instagram photo celebrating the occasion

A close source to the couple state that the couple split up due to the long distance. While YN is on tour with her band One Direction, which started on the 25th April.

We are deviated to hear this news but we wish both YN and Liam the best and luck for the future.

* Second photo edit is by the Instagram account harianadimples

28th May

2 years ago yesterday I got the most worst phone all I had ever received. 2 years ago Alex grew his wings and became an angel. I’m still emotional today, constantly looking down at my A tattoo whenever I feel like I need strength.

The music to ‘Little Things’ starts and I look up to see the arena full of lights from phone

“Your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me” Zayn starts off singing and a tear escapes from my eyes. Louis grabs my hand and sways with me along the music

“I won’t let these little things slip out of my mouth, but if I do, it’s you, oh it’s you, they add up to. I’m in love with you and all these little things” I attempt to sing in tune but I know my voice is cracking

After the song Harry turns to me and asks

“You ok?”

“I will be” I give Harry a small smile.

13th July

We had just finished up our last day of tour for a little bit while we have a small break to go home and visit family.

I’m walking to my dressing room when Erin calls me over to her

“Hey YN there’s someone round backstage waiting for you”

“Who?”

“Liam as in your ex liam”

“What’s he doing here?” I ask frowning and following Charlotte to the backstage door

“Don’t know but he is holding tulips”

“What the…” I’m not able to say anything else as we approach the door

“If you need me to get the boys to get you away from him just text”

“Thanks Char” I give he a little hug before opening the door. There’s so many fans about

“Before you say anything I’m sorry. I love you YN and since I sent that text I’ve been kicking myself. I shouldn’t have sent it you I’m so sorry. Will you be mine again?”

“Why don’t you come in?” I nod towards the stadium so we’re out of the public view

“I want everyone here to see how much I love you YN so what do you say? Will you take me back” I feel trapped. Like if I say no I’ll be the bad guy, if I say I need time I’ll still be the bad guy. So many girls are screaming for me to say yes, so I do. Immediately Liam wraps me up in his arms and kisses my lips.

We can figure this out can’t we?

[cutegirlmayra]

Prompt Shadow and Amy spend the day together going shopping and hanging out. Shadow accidentally calls her Maria, fearing he's made things uncomfortable he tries to leave but Amy offers to talk it out and help Shadow. He still misses Maria and Amy's kindness reminds him of her and Amy takes it as the highest compliment he can give.

I went ahead and improvised another scenario since I've done 'Shopping with Shadow and Amy' in my Fanfiction Instincts (Can also be found on Archive, Wattpad, etc.). Please check it out! ;) It's still being edited lol

(This image is used as a 'Preview Image' for the story, art is not owned by me, please support the actual artist elsewhere!)

Prompts are on SHUTDOWN, just assume they are till an announcement post ^^

Prompt:

It wasn’t like Shadow wasn’t used to the accommodations Amy Rose would put on for her charitable sport.

Always cheery, looking willing to help… it somewhat made him annoyed, pitying her naive nature to see the world so full of kindness when it just wasn’t.

He looked around her home, keeping his arms folded and his eyes bent in distrust. Yes, she felt the need for him to stay out of the weather, but no, he didn’t actually need her assistance at all.

It was overbearing… her constant need to feel important and love something.

Selfish…

‘Why must I become her new toy?’ He thought to himself, deciding to ask indirectly about it as the corner of his eye suddenly filled with his gaze turning to her, not looking at her directly as she hummed and began to cook something for him.

“Why not offer the same to your precious Sonic?” He looked about the living room, “... Isn’t he caught in this storm as well?”

“I never know where he is! It’s so annoying.” she puffed up a cheek and then giggled, “But that’s part of his charm, I guess! I just have to hope he’s bunking with Tails, tonight. You, on the otherhand, act as though you haven’t a friend in the world~” She whimsily disregarded him? A wave of her hand… acting so… so nurturing for some reason.

“Do I seem so frail to you?” Shadow lowered his eyebrows. Sickening how some people needed to help others just to feel good about themselves.

He looked away, staring at really nothing, just…

He suddenly felt very guilty and bad at all this judging, and his eyes squinted in that pain of knowing he was in the wrong.

He sighed loudly, uncrossing his arms and walking into the kitchen, “How can I help?”

Maria turned with eyes full of wondrous blue yearning, “Shadow!” She had cried out, “You’re really willing to help me? Grandfather says I shouldn’t handle the stove on my own, will you give it a try?”

“You’re really willing to help me?”

His eyebrow twitched, stopping mid-stride as she repeated a phrase from a memory.

He had become so hardened… that it was physically painful to be reminded of a time he wasn’t so distrusting and jaded.

“... Yes.” He lowered his head, still looking intimidating… but Amy could just tell he was trying to be humble about her taking him in.

She giggled, “You’re funny when you want to be nice and helpful.” She teased, putting a hand up to her mouth. “Shall we?” She gestured to the counters.

He just rose his chin up and walked to where she was directing him, seeing some ingredients needing to be cut and her hands gently taking his own to hold the large carrot and position the cooking knife where it was meant to slice.

She gave him a charming closed-eye smile and then went back to stirring her pot he assumed was a warm stew to fight against the cold that had built up inside him…

Not just from this storm outside tonight…

With very little direction, he took all the ingredients on the counter and threw them up, swiping his expert, speedy skills through the air before they all landed in piles on the cutting board.

He put the knife down and walked back over to her, looking over her shoulder.

She was absentmindedly humming that same song again…

“... Will it be ready soon?”

“E-YAH!” She jumped in alarm, turning around and gripping her heart, “S-Shadow, you scared me!”

Although he found that somewhat amusing, he didn’t show it, and just closed his eyes and turned away from her, “You shouldn’t be so distracted… having an eye and ear on your surroundings could benefit you greatly… Ah?” He was tugged by her back to the cutting board, where she gasped again at his achievement.

“You… cut these that quickly?” Again, he was amused, but didn’t show it. He just looked at her and turned his head away, a slight glare with an awkward sweatdrop on the side of his face.

“Did you expect me not to perform the task adequately? I am the Ultimate Lifeform you know-”

He was swung again to the pot, “You. Stir. I’ll start the seasoning!” She seemed somewhat angry that he was better at this than her, and he couldn’t help but stare at her mannerisms, marching over and puffing up her cheek again…

He just watched… before stirring the pot… remembering once again…

Of days gone by…

“Ohh! Shadow, you did so well!” Maria put her hands gently together, praising him for the cake they had made.

“... What is it?” He had asked, looking at the strange cream-colored sponge.

“It’s a fluffy vanilla cake! O-oh… but the Ark ran out of Icing a while back.” She lightly put a hand to her cheek, as though apologizing by that gesture. “Don’t worry, it should still taste great!”

Sitting by a large window-plane that showed the expanse of space, Shadow and Maria sat down with the plate of a pieced-in-cake, nibbling on it together.

Shadow sat at Amy’s kitchen door which had two window-planes above and below it, watching the rain outside, eating his stew.

“Hmm… You sure you don’t want to eat at the table, Shadow?” Amy put a hand to her cheek, mouth to the side of her face, not sure what or where his mind was wandering off to with.

“... No, I’m fine right here.” He kept staring out the window… memories painfully twisting into his chest, tightening the searing emptiness that even the stew couldn’t warm up.

She sighed, picking up her stew and sitting beside him. “The rain is lovely,-”

“The stars are lovely, aren’t they, Shadow?”

“They are Maria.”

Amy blinked her eyes.

“Huh?”

Shadow’s eyes were so soft and tender… it made Amy’s own opened slightly more, realizing…

She knew now where his mind was.

He snapped out of it with a blink as though in disbelief he had stated that out loud.

He couldn’t even speak to her, his mouth hung and jumped a few times, but nothing except escaped air jutted out in sound from him.

Then… a beautiful sight.

Amy’s head tilted and she was lighted by the strikes of lightning. “I’m flattered… that I can… give you a place where you can feel safe from the cold… Shadow.”

Warmth.

A vulnerability he didn’t want to admit nor feel at this time… suddenly rose like a heat lamp inside him.

“... Forgive me.” He stated.

Maria stroked his head as he rested in her lap… softly breathing in a quiet dream…

Amy smiled, stroking his head, happy to see him so at peace… since arriving on Earth so long ago.

Suppose... he was the needy one... after all.

[ejzah]

A/N: Here we come to the end of yet another story. Thanks once again for for your support and love for this story.

***

The Other Shoe, Epilogue

One Year Later

Deeks moved around the kitchen, dicing some onions, stirring a pan of chicken, grabbing a couple of cloves of onion. He’d gotten home from work 45 minutes ago, and started in on dinner, knowing Kensi would be back later than him.

In the last year, a lot had changed. For one, he could walk down the beach, even run, without feeling like he’d collapse. He’d recovered from his transplant surgery better than could be expected. Although he had returned to most of his previous activities pre kidney failure, he had officially resigned as an investigator upon receiving his medical clearance.

Now, he supervised a team of NCIS lawyers and assisted with modifying agency procedures and guidelines as needed. Much like his job as liaison, he had a feeling that the position had been designed specifically for him. It was hardly what Deeks had expected for himself, but he found he enjoyed most of the work.

A timer on his phone beeped and he absentmindedly turned it off, grabbing the medication sorter off the counter, and popping the contents in his mouth along with a swallow of water. Humming a John Denver song under his breath, he continued cooking. He heard the front door open and close, and called out,

“I’m in the kitchen!”

Deeks looked over his shoulder as Kensi walked in, barefoot and in a tank top and jeans.

“Hey, welcome home, Lady Bird of my Heart.”

“Hey. Ooh, what’s for dinner?”

He grinned at her eagerness, nodding to the pan of peppers and onions. “Fajitas and semi-authentic rice. How was work today,?”

“Good. I taught a baby agent how to disassemble an incendiary device hidden inside a truck,” Kensi told him excitedly. Deeks turned around completely, his eyebrows high enough to touch his bangs.

“You what now?”

“It was a simulation,” she clarified quickly. Deeks visibly relaxed.

“Could have led with that, baby.” He left the stove to wrap his arms around her, and kissed her temple. Kensi tipped his chin down to kiss him more firmly on the mouth.

“Sorry. I just got excited,” she explained. “As much as I don’t miss the danger, I do miss the adrenaline rush that comes with fieldwork.”

That was another big change; shortly after Deeks settled into his new position, Kensi decided resign as well. Kilbride hadn’t been pleased to lose two of his team within months of each other, but ended up recommending Kensi for a supervisory position as well. She now trained incoming agents fresh out of FLETC to prepare them for their first real field experiences.

“I know you do,” Deeks said softly. He also knew his health crisis had played some part in her decision to step down. Thought Kensi insisted it was for many reasons.

“How about you? How was your day?” Kensi asked, reaching over his shoulder to sneak a piece of chicken.

“The new edits to the handbook were accepted. Finally got the definition and duties for an NCIS investigator clarifies more thoroughly.”

“That’s been bugging you for years! Congratulations.” Kensi kissed him again, as though he’d performed some impressive feat.

“I mean, it’s not nearly as exciting as yours,” he pointed out.

“Hey, don’t downplay your efforts. Because of you, future investigators won’t have to wonder about their scope of duty. Of course, it also means they won’t be able to use it to their benefit like you did.”

“True. It was fun to mess with you guys.”

“Yes, I know,” Kensi said dryly. She slid a hand up into his hair, leaning into him. He felt the gentle rounding of her stomach pressed against him, and he brushed his fingers over it.

“And how’s Baby Deeks-Blye today?” he asked.

“Happy and hungry.”

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” He grinned again, squeezing Kensi against him. “Does baby want salsa tonight?”

“Definitely,” Kensi responded immediately. She slid out of his arms, heading for the cabinets. “I’ll set the table.”

Deeks watched her for a few moments, overwhelmed by the simple delight of it all. Last year, he thought he might die, and here he was healthy, happier than ever, a baby on the way.

Yeah, a lot had changed. He’d always be on medication, he had to watch his diet to a degree, and his days chasing bad guys were gone forever, but he found it didn’t matter as much as he thought it would.

In the end, he was just happy for a second chance.

***

A/N: Sorry for the slightly cheesy ending. Hope you enjoyed this final bit of lightness after all the dark and angst.

[axel-skz]

I dream we will meet again </3

A/N: I HAVE BEEN SPELLING HYUNES NAME WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME OMG!! I’m like not even slightly aware of anything ever. I cannot for the life of me spell seungmin right… now I find out it’s actually hyunjun… not hyunJIN?! I would pass away. But unfortunately, it’s not in my cards.||| Lmao, turns out that could be wrong but you know what, I’m just gonna spell it hyunjin. Idc. NOW, song roulette time… we get Scars :)

Summary: You and Hyunjin broke up and this is aftermath.

Hyunjin x g/n reader

It was a terrible break up. Your heart felt like it had been juiced for all it’s life blood then ran over, with a monster trucks tough uncle.

For the past week, you spent your time living the hobo life in your apartment. You didn’t go to work all week and definitely didn’t get together with friends.

You spent your days in the same routine, it always happened when you felt like you were having a crisis.

Tonight though, you made a mistake. When your mind told you to check on him, see if he was doing better, you didn’t fight it. Usually, you could find it in you to distract yourself. Tonight was another story. You couldn’t resist.

It was a mistake. The most recent post on the official page for hyunjun was him going to some versace event.

It was infuriating for you, as your eyes filled with tears, his life didn’t stop when you left. Your entire world seemed to have ended but here was this man meeting dua lipa. AGAIN. The universe had some audacity.

You weren’t even the reason for the breakup. You gave him your all but he wasn’t giving you nearly the same back.

You gave into a second urge and went to his secret account. You hadn’t unfollowed it and he hadn’t removed you either… let’s not delve into that…

He had put up his photography from his trip. You scrolled through the pictures with tears in your eyes and a weight on your heart.

You couldn’t help yourself and you scrolled through more pictures. It made you miss him more and more.

You were stupid now because you went to your chat and looked at your old messages. The oldest ones were so cute. It slowly got… less cute…

Least cute of all was when you dropped your phone on your face and called him. It couldn’t get any worse. Except… he picked up.

Before you could hear anything at all, you dropped the call. You threw your phone across the room and sat there with your hand covering your mouth while you stared in its direction.

No. Way. Is this real life?

You got nothing else after. No texts checking why you did that, nothing to follow up in anyway.

The next three days went by… awkwardly… you were coming home with groceries dangling everywhere as you went up the stairs. As you looked up, there he was… at your door… you stood there. Stunned.

‘Really? I’m so paranoid I’m hallucinating now?’ You walked up to him. ‘Can’t you leave me alone? I can’t even have my own mind?’

Hyunjin looked concerned, ‘did you hit your head? Slip and fall somewhere?’ He reached and took the groceries form you and that’s when you realised, this is real.

You turned around and went back down the stairs.

‘I’m gonna be here no matter where you go!! You have to come back! You just gave me your food and I know you hate sharing!’

You stopped, he knew you too well. You turned around quietly and slowly climbed back up the stairs. Cautiously you tried to grab your groceries back, as if doing it slowly would make him hand over his only upper hand. He leaned away and you looked up at him angrily.

‘I’m just here to talk… please?’

A/N: I’m sick. Yeah, I blame my laziness on that. HAH. I mean, I’m not winning here so I dont know why I’m laughing. Anyway, I can’t edit this later so You’ll have to check back if you want to see part 2 :)

[casuallyawkardd]

hi! I had a request- would you maybe write a hobie brown x reader smut based on the song"Fuck away the pain" by Divide the Day? if it's not too much bother of course :') thank you!!

Yes, yes, yes gorgeous baby boy 🥰 thank you for your patience. I listened to this song as preparation and got an immediate idea of what I wanted to do, but for some reason my brain couldn't process the words I wanted to write. So I eventually word vomitted everything out and editted it into being something actually readable so I hope you enjoy 😁

Link to the song is here if y'all wanna listen while you read

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI! Sex, oral sex, rough sex, dubious consent cuz Y/N drunk but we gucci, angst, slight hurt and no comfort for anyone

"You two broke up again, didn'tcha?" Hobie always seems to know where he's wanted, at least when you needed him. However, the candid nature of his voice was less than appreciated.

"How do you reckon?" you ask back, bitterly as you take another swig of your vodka soda. The teasing smile he has plastered on his face only seems to widen, resting his elbow on the bar as he leans a little closer, flicking some of your hair out of your face.

"You only ever come back to this pub when he does," he speaks simply, matter of factly. "What was it this time? Parents didn't like yah? Needed some 'space'?"

"He cheated on me," you answer reluctantly, sounding almost woeful as your head goes to rest in your palm, looking anywhere but him.

"Again?" Hobie scoffs, the sound grinding against your psyche. He never said 'I told you so' whenever you got back with your now ex, only to be broken up with a few months later. It had grown to become an annoying habit of yours. While he never said the words outright, his responses were damn near close every time.

"If you're going to be a dick tonight, I'm not in the mood for it."

"Easy there," Hobie soothes, holding up a placating hand and chuckling at your little outburst. "I'm not the one you should be pissed at."

"You're close to it."

"Oh, I'm wounded," he laughs again, hand over his heart like you'd just wounded him. You roll your eyes at the sight, downing the rest of your drink and signaling to the bartender for another. Hobie watches you, you know he does, and yet you have gotten so good at ignoring his stares. "Come on, I'll order us a couple rounds," he asks the bartender for two shots when they drop off your new drink, already knowing your poison of choice.

"Are you helping me drink away my sorrows?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

You roll your eyes again, the one corner of your mouth turning upward being his hint that you were starting to get a sense of humor again. "You're a bad influence, Hobbs."

He matches your expression, picking up his shot once it arrives and holding it up in preparation of a toast. "When am I ever not?"

And so begins the routine, at least that's what Hobie called it. He hated routine, the mundaness of it all, routine becoming the norm and he hated normalcy more. But this routine was starting to grow on him, or maybe he despised it the most, that was something Hobie had yet to decide.

On one hand, he didn't like to see you so upset, and over an asshole like your ex no less. Hobie never liked the guy, some privileged git from the other side of town, he never knew what you saw in him. They say opposites attract and in your case it was true, but the two of you seemed to repel each other just as much. He liked blowing his parent's money on whatever caught his attention that week, while you understood the feeling of living paycheck to paycheck and tended to be very frugal because of it. He liked going out to upscale restaurants and boating with his friends, while you were content enough with cheap drinks and the occasional bonfire. He liked to chase girls in designer dresses, while you were the one left to pick up the pieces of yourself.

But that's where Hobie came in. He liked being the one to help you put yourself together again, whether it be over drinks or...otherwise. Hobie was always good at listening, good at maintaining the unbiased opinion as you drunkenly vented on your relationship and everything that went wrong this time around. He'd chime in where it was needed, maybe even plant a joke or two into the conversation and by the end you were at least smiling again.

"Thanks Hobbs, I don't deserve someone like you. You really are my best mate," you would say and Hobie would have to smile and brush it off.

"Nah, you deserve better," was what he would say back. And he meant it, every word. Not someone like your ex, who criticized the amount of black in your wardrobe and bought your love with jewelry you didn't even like. Someone who got you, accepted you as you were, every flaw and perfection included. Hobie could be that person, he knew he could, but he also knew he never would be. Not with the dynamic you insisted the two of you keep.

'You're my best friend, Hobie,' you'd say, 'the only guy I can always count on.' Hobie took every comment on the chin, accepting his fate. Seeing you with other men, specifically your ex, never made him jealous. Hobie didn't get jealous. Rather, he was...disappointed? Disheartened you'd rather let some prick like your ex know you at your most intimate when you could do better. Even if 'better' wasn't him.

But those feelings didn't matter right now, not when he was the one you were leaning against as the two of you walked back to his place. You had insisted on it, you always did. It was just another step to the routine you two had established.

"Why don't you wanna go back to your place? It's not far," Hobie always asked.

You'd shrug, "Cuz you're not gonna be there," would be your response.

The lock clicked open, Hobie having to use his shoulder to shove the old door to his apartment open; repeating the action again when he had to force it shut again. He made his way to the small kitchenette, getting you a glass of tap water. Meanwhile, you roamed the small flat, having been away for months and now refamiliarizing yourself with what used to be your second home.

"It hasn't changed a bit," he heard you say, a short chuckle escaping his throat. When he steps out of the kitchenette, you're already sitting on the couch, flipping through the bits of newspaper scattered on the coffee table. When you look up at him, a smile graces your features, the alcohol in your system making it slightly more crooked.

You accept your glass of water with a 'thank you' and take a few sips, Hobie sitting down beside you and lounging back against the leather cushions. He listens at your attempts to delay the inevitable, recounting the countless memories the two of you shared in this small space. The late nights listening to old records, lazy mornings eating leftover bar food. On and on you talk until you're leaning on the arm he has slung over the back of the couch, looking up at him with hazy eyes.

Then you're turning to face him, leaning in until your lips are pressing against his. Hesitant at first, before colliding again with more intention. Hobie returns the gesture, not moving to touch and rather savor the softness of you. "You're drunk," he gently reminds, peeking his eyes open to stare down at your flushed face.

It makes you pause, swallowing thickly before you respond. "So are you," is your groundbreaking rebuttal and it makes him snort. His fingers comb your hair back, kissing your forehead. Then each of your eyelids, nose, cheeks and finally your lips once more. Hobie lets you take the lead, letting you choose when you slide into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding your clothed sex into his. He swallows every small gasp and groan, a hand at the small of your back to keep you in place while he licks and nibbles along your jaw and neck.

The intimacy of it is cut short as you pull away slightly, sinking to the floor between his knees. Your hands seem to move of their own accord, unbuckling his belts and touching him through his pants. Hobie opens his mouth to object, remind you that you weren't thinking clearly, but the words die on his lips when you're freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

He loves your lips. Loves the words that come out of them, how soft they are against his skin and how perfectly they wrap around his cock. A low groan escapes him, leaning his head back on the leather as you set the pace. You're taunting him, slowly sucking him off and holding his hips in place when he tries to buck down your throat.

"Y/N," he groans, a warning that he's close. And yet you're unrelenting, cheeks hollowing as you suck harder and take him deeper. Hobie's teeth grit together, urging himself to pull you back up, a wet pop echoing in the small, studio apartment before he kisses you once again. "This is about you," he reminds, guiding you back to the couch and laying you across the cushions.

Hobie prided himself in not being just another one of your mediocre fucks. It was something you reminded him of during the late night pillow talk. He knows every gasp and moan escaping your lips is genuine, not the pity noises you'd confessed you gave your ex. The soft whimpers you try to muffle as his teeth pinch your nipples, the sharp moans as his fingers explore your insides, stretching and prodding until you writhing beneath him.

"Hobie, please..." you plead, making his dark eyes glance up to your flushed features. It only riles him up further, lips meeting yours firmly. His tongue finds yours, the two dancing together in a passionate kiss. Then he's pulling away just as quickly, lifting you and maneuvering your body until you're bent over the back of the couch.

The remainder of the clothes you both have on join the others on the floor, Hobie taking a moment to admire the view. "God, you're perfect," he groans, hands groping the globes of your ass and massaging the muscle in his large hands.

He resists the urge to cum right then, once his length finds its way back into your warmth. A long moan escapes you as he fills you inch by inch, your walls stretching around him like it's muscle memory. Before you can even think how much better he feels inside you compared to your ex, Hobie is thrusting his hips against your ass. It pushes you into the cushions, practically falling over the back of the couch if Hobie's hands didn't hold your hips so tightly.

The first thrust is meant as a reminder. That you're in his flat taking his cock. Afterward he's a little more gentle, thrusts steady and intentional. Hobie thrusts deep, branding your insides with the shape of his cock. Hoping this time you'll remember his touch, savor every bolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine. It's his way of saying this could be your life. That you could be with someone loyal who wants to fulfill your deepest desires and fuck you until morning.

"Fuck, Hobie," you cry out when his thrusts start to quicken. He's glad you can't see the smug smirk on his face, loving when you say his name in moments like these. How if he angles his hips just right that you'll start to scream it.

His name is a mantra spilling past your lips, over and over until you're coming undone around him. But Hobie isn't perturbed just yet. After he's done taking you on the couch, he has you on the floor, then the kitchen counter and on the bed as well. He gives you the chance to catch your breath between intimate encounters, offering you his shower after pounding you into the mattress. When you mutter something about not wanting to be alone, he follows you in, fucking you against the tile of the shower as well.

It's the early hours of the morning when the two of you have exhausted yourselves. Hobie insists on you drinking another glass of water before passing out in his bed, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence as you do. As you set the glass down on the floorboards, your phone buzzes and Hobie's heart sinks.

He knows who it is without you having to say, watching on as you read the text that just came in. It's the part of the routine where everything crumbles, the illusion of tonight starts to fade. Usually he had more time, your ex waiting until the next day to ask if you could meet up and 'talk'. Which usually meant listening to his newest bullshit excuse.

Hobie watches as you look at the message, contemplation etched into your features before you set the device down again. "I'm so done with that asshole," you mutter as you curl against his side, ready to drift off to sleep. For a moment he just stares, takes in the sight of you and the feeling of your bare skin touching his.

With a heavy sigh, Hobie settles in beside you, tucking your head under his chin. He decides to savor this moment a little longer. Because he knows that come morning you'll go back on your word. That you'll meet up with your ex, reconcile and reconvene with your 'best mate' a few months down the line. You always do.

Tags: @khaleesihavilliard @graysonshaven​ @qiaipia​ @3zae-zae3​ @thedevax @erissco​ @cheezit-luv3rr @leo-lvr @stqrlightrs

[orcaofmyheart99]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Repost with edits. Now on ao3.

It was May and the flowers were in bloom. The promise of long summer nights under a starry sky could be smelled in the alluring scented air. Katherine had told the Newsies that she and her band would be hosting a jazz dance. Jack wanted to do something special for his anniversary with Davey so he decided he would take him to the dance. Even though Jack would usually despise something like this, he knew Davey loved dancing and getting dressed up for a formal occasion. 

“So how should I ask him to the dance?” Jack pestered Katherine.

“I want it too be special and surprise him.” 

“Well, you can tell him that you are just going out and not tell him where?”

“Hmmm, I’ll try that.” 

When Davey got back to the lodging house, Jack met him in the dining room. The table was set with some bread and cheese and a few roses were in a small vase in the middle. 

“What’s the occasion?” Davey asked, an eyebrow raised.

Jack smiled trying his best not to give anything away. 

“No occasion just wanted to show you how much I love you” He said gesturing for Davey to sit down.

As they began to eat Jack spoke up.

“Well, there is actually an occasion. For our anniversary I want to do something special for you. I can’t tell you where we are going, but I will tell you where something you can dance in!”

Davey beamed. 

“Oh Jack, I am already so excited.” 

A few days later Jack and Davey got dressed for the dance 

Davey was wearing a classic black tux while Jack had on gray pants and a mustard yellow jacket. As Davey walked walked out the front door, he saw Jack on the front porch with a cigarette dangling from his right hand. His hair has been slicked back with a slight wave to it. David felt his breath catch a little bit. 

“Hey there” Jack said, smirking at David’s expression. 

“Hows about we get going?” Jack asked. All Davey could do was nod.

As they walked into the dance, Jack and David saw Katherine who was singing. David couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Oh my Jack, it is perfect!” 

The room had a cozy glow to it, with red, gold, and pink streamers. Lights were hung against the wall, casting dancing shadows. 

Jack took Daviey hand and they headed to the floor. The song The Way You Look Tonight was playing. Jack pulled Davey close against him. Katherine sang out 

“There is nothing for me but to love you

And the way you look tonight...” 

Jack and Davey sat down at a table to enjoy some cheese cake and tea before they got up for another dance. 

Katherine called out “Well, we have two more very special songs coming up now. To all the couples out there, come on up and dance!” 

David led Jack back to the floor.

“Stars shinin' bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

Say, "Nighty-night" and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me” 

The swayed to the music, letting the song carry them across the floor. 

“Last song of the night” Katherine announced now. 

“Thank you all so much for coming out. And let me say, I hope your night was unforgettable.”

With a smile she began to sing 

“Unforgettable, that's what you are

Unforgettable, though near or far” 

Jack pulled away from Davey who look concerned. 

“Like a song of love that clings to me

How the thought of you does things to me”

"Dave, I gotta ask you somethin.”

Davey nodded his head, nervously.

“Never before has someone been more

Unforgettable in every way

And forevermore (and forevermore)”

“Will you marry me?”

"That's how you'll stay (that's how you'll stay)"

David smiled slowly “Yes, of course my love”

“That's why, darling, it's incredible

That someone so unforgettable

Thinks that I am unforgettable too”

Jack smiled back, trying to wipe away the tears of happiness in his eyes. 

Jack and Davey walked back home, quietly, letting the sound of the city speak. Both looked up at the starry sky, as they paused under the streetlight right outside the lodging house. Jack pulled Davey into him, gently kissing him. This night would be unforgettable. 

[thedistortedfroggit]

Local Creatives Dumps Cringe Ideas Cuz He Got Inspo From Maru Togami

you've read that title right folks!

Tonight is no night for a crisis of- Well, technically tonight is a night of 'what if's considering this is a thing im going to do

But it isn't just about just ideas off somethin- well technically it is, considering I got this idea while watching an 'If I met MHA' gacha video by Maru Togami (I love their work go check em out)

BUT ANYWAY-

oh s- I just said the topic of this without the dramatics. Oh well.

Indeed! I am a gacha fan-ish, since I kinda fell out but came back just not as obsessed ig. though thats probably not a surprise if you've read any of my previous rants

'If I met MHA' by Maru Togami revolves around the gacha trend of MHA characters teleporting to the creator's house and staying for an unspecified amount of time while dealing with the crisis of not being real. and I personally LOVE that idea.

maybe I'll edit this and add onto it if I ever get more ideas for this kind of stuff. Maybe if I get enough ideas I'll actually get around to making one.

anyway— Lets start with what I like to call 'changing what makes things easy to be creative'

for this particular one, I'm going to focus on the 'house empty, all free time' aspect most of the videos on this trend have

-- ON ANOTHER NOTE; since im currently writing this while watching the 2nd part of their series

can I just say, I LOVE what they did with Shigiraki's lil existential crisis? just the weight of realizing that everything you've done was all just following a script and you have no actual control. also fallen down? mm, amazing song choice for that moment--and I swear I got whiplash from how the mood did a whole 180 after it was over

another another note; UGHFJCDJ maybe its just cuz manipulative protags are smth I just adore cuz it brings so much potential to the table-- but I love how shigiraki is basically just reduced to a moody dog on a leash after it (also love how deku is just crying in the bg and nobody comments on it xD)

can you tell im a sadist?

ooHHH--I actually like that its totally in Midoriya's character to not become like shigiraki cuz of his drive. I kinda like that since deku being kinda lifeless dog on leash is kinda common

Not to say I wouldn't squeal in joy the moment if it happens, again, sadist.

...oof wait- Is it bad that I actually forgot about Eri?

uHHH- Lets just say that im a chaos gremlin and I don't want to tamper with the child sooooo...child child be safe but I need sustenance <3

--

Back on topic! 'house empty, all free time' Wouldn't it be interesting to have this rule completely thrown out the window?

Like, the creator lives with their family that is almost always at home and school is still a thing. Ofc you'd actually need times where the house is empty so the MHA characters actually get spotlight. Maybe when the family is off on a mall trip? Maybe visiting other family for a few hours?

Its kinda funny to imagine a small group of MHA characters scrambling to hide while the family is around.

What else? What else?

'segregation/immediate trust' This goes for both the creator and between the characters themselves

Theres some of the trend where the MHA crew is chosen out of favorite characters by the creator (I'll be honest, if I were ever to make one of these, I'd use characters that would stir up the most drama--like kurogiri and aizawa for example)

Although probably annoying since If I ever saw it done incorrectly. it'd probably just make me go "get on with it you bafoon, hurry up"

But I'd still like to see what would happen if the MHA crew were a bit sceptical of each other and this random quirkless kid who appearently owns this house they're in and wont let them go outside

Speaking of going outside! 'most, if not all action, stays inside the house'

I vote on letting the MHA crew out the house! Do I know its a bad idea, since weebs were everywhere? Yes. Do I care? No. Because drama and trauma (ooh that rhymed) is my bread and butter

(for the record, I know there are some series of this trend actually has the MHA crew going out the house--but I'll still talk about this)

Since pretty much all MHA characters except Aizawa and Izuku would be ok with basically quirklessness (assuming that their quirks arent working in whatever pseudo-world the Creator decided to plop the real world in)

Actually! Forget the parentisisisisisis (im giving up on spelling) I got the idea of real-but-not-actually-real world from a line in Maru Togami's video that I.....

....tttttotally forgot what it was exactly, but what I remember was that it mentioned the creator's teleporting powers and something about this..uh- reality? series? idk something along that line

It just the idea of it really interests me What if the creator knew about the pseudo-world they're in? What if they didn't? Could the creator also be given an existential crisis with the MHA crew? Who would even present that idea to the creator? The editor?

ok following that line of thought, I had a lil vision where the creator talks to the editor, again, inspired by the little scene at the end of part 1 where the creator just stresses out over things and talked about having to edit the video

So, back to the vision: In it, the creator 'talked' with the editor. But they weren't really talking?

Think of the 4th wall as one sided glass, and the creator KNOWS it's one-sided glass..but they can't really do anything about it other than acknowledge it exists since they can't see behind it. But the editor is on the OTHER SIDE of the glass, so the editor could see everything and do what they want.

With that 'imagine this' outta the way, lets continue! The creator 'talks' and 'replies' but its more like how someone would reply to a conversation they're not really listening to yk, with 'yeah..' and 'totally' and 'I agree' and 'mmm.'

Well, thats basically what the creator is saying While the editor is just getting fed up with the Creator responding wrong--like, 'so who are you planning to traumatize today?' 'I agree'

mmrh, don't look at me- I said I had a vision, didn't say it was a good one.

anyway, where was I going with this? UhHHh. I think I already made my point...probably? I dont wanna go back and reread..so, MOVING ON!

Lets move onto another point well..

I'll be honest, its not really a point More a question, since im getting tired and its been like..idk a night or two?

Would the MHA crew be allowed to use their phones? I've seen alot(not really, but lets ignore that) of the trend make the catalyst of not causing havoc the idea of being able to gain insight about the future since its an anime and manga after all..

But, if ever they still had access to their phones and were told the name of their anime—actually no, even just the knowledge they're an anime

Once they get over the fact they aren't real over here, and a simple search of their name with a few clicked BOOM! there's their future and everything else they could find on a simple google page.

...

eeeeehh Im tired. Maybe I'll update this when I actually get more points Maybe I'll actually be serious about the tags

Maybe I'll get over the fact I put a time limit on my head since I asked the person-creator who gave me alot of inspo on this whole thing cuz guilt without reason is a hobby

who knows? all I know is that im going back to reading immortal no filter izuku crack fics sleeping. Going back to sleeping. yep.

:DD take a coffee if you're actually still here☕ Have fun on this night. or day. or morning. or--

yk what, have a good mutually-neutral-time-in-your-region!