#all of these i either only ever played a few hours of and never finished or its been too many years since i last played

[margonite-seer]

This might be one of the most heartbreaking Astarion moments in the entire game.

If you play Dark Urge, eventually, in late Act 3, Tav gets to try to get rid of the urges for good, or, embrace them further. There is a possible outcome where neither of these happen: instead, Tav becomes an outcast cursed to be a murder beast forever, never to be able to get rid of the hunger.

Non-Ascended Astarion's reaction to it is... well... My heart broke in a million pieces, let's say. Because of Neil's amazing acting, as usual, I felt like listening to the conversation is a must. That's why I had to attach the video, too.

But these specific small moments are breaking me more than others.

The subtle but visible drop of his shoulders. He feels so sad and defeated for Tav.

...And this line? Definitely the most tragically poetic/romantic I've ever heard him.

He is so sure he will never love again after Tav, let alone find someone like them.

This has all but confirmed my personal headcanon that unless something tragic happens, Tav and Astarion will stay together for hundreds of years. EDIT:

It's actually so much worse in the ending of the game...

I finished the game on this save path (I'll never consider it canon for my lovely boys and I deleted it after I finished recording all dialogue paths) and the Urges overwhelm Tav the minute the tadpole is gone, but only after Astarion runs to hide from the sun.

Tav has to either stab themselves to death immediately (right in front of other companions) to not become a mindless murderer. If they take merely a moment to plan their future, whatever it is, they get possessed by Bhaal right at the docks. Red glowy eyes, "Orin's" dagger spawning in their hand out of nowhere, all sanity and will gone. And them walking into the city with the dagger in hand is how the game ends.

Tav and Astarion never get their last day together. Astarion running away from the sun is the last time they see each other. No last goodbye, no last celebration, not even an hour of victory bliss and peace.

In the video above, Astarion sounds like he hopes to have at least a few months with Tav, maybe. At least a few days of enjoying the complete freedom together.

In the end, he never got any time with them.

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfam at a gala with the reader being dubbed the "hearttrob", the reader is really handsome and nearly everybody wants to get into his pants. However, the reader is actually a really innocent and the family is always on a mission to stop anyone from talking to the reader who just wants to get him into their bed. They're like "nuh uh he only deserves the best"

Oh God, chaos is about to ensue lol. Just everyone being, nope.

Summary: The fam protects their handsome brother.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, people trying to get into (Y/N)'s pants, protective family...

Out of the 5 sons that Bruce has, both adopted and biological, all of them were handsome in their own way. But (Y/N) was the most handsome one, even more handsome than Damian, who was a second contender to the title. Bruce has never ever made any of them feel bad about it.

Besides, none of them really cared about that title anyway. It was bullshit according to them, but... They had agreed that (Y/N) was the most handsome one. That was something that they couldn't deny in the slightest. They all have agreed that if they weren't brothers, they would try and date him.

Of course, that's what a lot of people tried to do and (Y/N) was called a heartthrob for it. He was often in magazines, gossip ones whilst wearing something nice or casual and the internet would simply explode. It has happened a few times before and it was amusing and Jason nearly died from laughing every single time it happened.

God forbid he gets an Instagram or anything like that.

Internet would not survive in any way, shape or form.

Galas were more often that not insane to deal with. (Y/N) was always a genuine person who would really want to love someone, someone who wouldn't use him for like bragging rights or anything similar. When (Y/N) loves, he loves.

That's something that his brothers knew, alongside Bruce of course. So, being a protective they are, they made a pact to protect (Y/N) from people who would only want to sleep with him. There were many douchebags like that, who only want to get in (Y/N)'s pants.

It was nuts.

The same thing was happening tonight, at a gala for some charity. It was for the homeless people of Gotham city. (Y/N) was dressed sharply, in a classic black suit with a white shirt. Of course, he finished his look with a black tie. He moved around the room to talk to people, avoiding the knows reporters. He wasn't interested in them.

He was more interested in something else and that was his bed. Just two more hours.

However, the others noticed people looking at him, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat for them. A prize. Prey. A trophy. It didn't sit well with any of the family members. (Y/N) deserves nothing more than the best partner he could get.

Only the best.

Jason was eyeing a man who was looking at his brother and has made a move. He started walking towards his brother, but Jason was one step ahead. They were all wearing earpieces, just like on patrol. Jason lifted his glass of wine. " A man is on the move. Tim, he is in your line of sight. " Jason murmured, hiding his mouth with his glass of wine.

Tim turned his head from a man he was talking to and excused himself, quickly making his way to his brother before the douchebag could even reach him.

" Hey (Y/N), Jason wanted to talk to you. " Tim said as he patted his shoulder and (Y/N) nodded, leaving to find Jason, who heard it all and was now trying to figure out a reason to talk to (Y/N).

Tim turned his head to look at the man, who was glaring at Tim. Tim was thoroughly unimpressed.

" I know exactly what you want with my brother. I have seen it time and time before. It won't happen. " Tim said coldly and turned around, leaving the angry man behind.

Damian and Dick smirked from their spots. It was amazing to see it. Truly amazing.

And (Y/N) always turned a blind eye to it. It was either for the reason that he didn't want to deal with people or he simply didn't know. He always played dumb for it, but they all suspected that he knew.

Either way, it soothed the protective urge in them. Bruce knew what they were doing and he was doing absolutely nothing to stop his boys. Only if it was physical. Only then he would step in.

And Alfred? Alfred was the silent watcher, listening and waiting. He listened because most men like that brag about things and are bound to uncover something about themselves. And Alfred is never wrong. He always saw right through them.

As Jason and (Y/N) were talking, the others remained vigilant. It was far more interesting this way. More fun at this gala. Not just this one, but the others too. Far more interesting.

(Y/N) got himself some whiskey and just sipped it slowly. It was a nice evening. Damian moved around, seeing a man walking in the general direction of (Y/N). Damian moved through the crowd of people, watching the man like a hawk.

There was something way off about him. Something was way off. Damian couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that he couldn't ignore the feeling. If there is one thing that Damian was taught, it was to never ignore his gut feeling about people.

He kept following the man, seeing a lustful gaze in his eyes. That bastard. Damian's eyes narrowed at the man, especially when (Y/N) left to go to the bathroom. Damian's mind went into overdrive, knowing that (Y/N) would be vulnerable there.

" I'm moving to the bathroom. " Damian murmured as he approached the bathroom, making sure to keep some distance. He smudged his shirt a bit to have an excuse to go to the bathroom. He entered it, seeing someone chatting up (Y/N).

Damian cleared his throat as he approached the sinks. " (Y/N), father wants to talk to you. Says it's important. " Damian said and Bruce chuckled through the earpiece.

" Thanks Dames. " (Y/N) said with a smile and excused himself from the conversation he was having with a polite smile. The man kept up a polite smile until (Y/N) left and turned to Damian with a scowl. Damian had to control an urge to not laugh in his face.

" Listen kid, don't ruin this for me. " The man said and Damian kept his cool.

" I know who you are. Your father is a business partner of WE. And Bruce Wayne is protective of his sons so don't make me tell him what you said. " Damian said coldly, but Bruce already heard it. But of course, will keep it quiet as long as the man is somewhat respectful.

Now, the last sentence alone made the man scared. It was a well known fact that Bruce Wayne doesn't take any disrespect about his sons. Of any kind. Damian smirked as he saw that the man has paled.

Damian left without a word and saw Dick who smirked too. " Good job Damian. " Dick said as he high fived Damian in passing, composing himself quickly as the man hurried out of the bathroom, clearly distressed.

The two smirked, making Tim snort from where he watched them with Connor. Bruce subtly rolled his eyes at that, but was happy that Damian took control.

And (Y/N)? He simply remained unbothered, chatting away with Alfred, who was happy to stop for a good chat with his grandson.

[lipringlrh]

give you a show | LN4

summary: when your roommates that good looking it's hard not to stare

pairings: roommate!lando norris x fem!reader

an: not posted in a little (sorry) but i actually have a lot in my drafts but i’m grouping them together so i need to finish them all off before i post them :)

word count: 800

warnings: none i don’t think

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

…

You hadn't been roommates with Lando very long, only a few weeks, and each day you couldn't tell whether you were regretting it or enjoying it more each day. Today included both.

You opened the door to your apartment only an hour later than you left after picking up a few things you needed. You quickly took your shoes off by the door and headed further inside, announcing a quick, "I'm home," as you led your jacket down on the top of a chair, a bad habit both you and Lando formed, but it was just easier.

"Kitchen," a reply came from your left.

You headed towards the kitchen door, briefly pausing as you stepped inside before recomposing yourself and carrying on. You sat on a bar stool seat in the corner of the room, Lando in perfect view, before unconsciously taking your phone out.

You weren't focused on it at all, not when Lando was standing there, looking like that. His body was faced sideways away from you and his hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, but he still pulled it off well. Grey sweatpants hung off his hips very lowly and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all. He was either chopping some food or mixing something - you weren't sure, you weren't focused on what he was doing anyway.

A few minutes pass, he's moved around a bit but always returning to the same place no matter what he's doing. You weren't really sure what he was doing but you weren't complaining. The more he seemed to stand there, the more his arms seemed to flex too. You were loving it, completely unaware of how obvious you were, or what you were meant be to doing, you couldn't think straight anyway.

You were too concentrated on him and his arms that you didn't hear him call your name the first time - or the second. It was only the third time he said it that it knocked you out of your daze. Your eyes met his face again, tracing over every detail. Luckily he wasn't looking at you, you thought, he was still focused on whatever he was doing.

"You've been watching that for an awful long time," he spoke, a smirk taking over his features. He was right, you realised. Looking at the phone, you noticed you'd opened tiktok and had just been letting the same video play on loop since you sat down.

You stutter for a moment, thinking of an excuse. "I was reading the comments." You said, lying through your teeth way too obviously.

His smirk never faltered, instead just grew, "took you a while to tell me that. Don't worry, I don't mind when you stare."

You didn't really know how to answer that so you just stayed quiet, your eyes still trained on his face as he turned around and stepped much closer to you.

He was right in front of you now, the only thing separating you was the marble of the kitchen bar worktop.

"What? You think I didn't notice? I cut up way more salad than I'd need in a week, waiting for you to notice." He grinned, putting his arms on the counter and moving his face down to the same height as yours and ever so slightly closer.

"So you were giving me a show?" You reply before you have any time to think about it. You watch as he falters at your response, giving yourself a little ego boost. You cock your head to the side, almost as if you're challenging him for a reply.

He quickly gains his compose back, brushing off the slight embarrassment of you getting him flustered - it isn't the first time but it's the most obvious.

"Well, when there's a pretty girl in front of you, always." He whispers as though it's obvious, in an attempt to again fluster you more than how you flustered him.

"So you think I'm pretty?" You try to hide your grin but fail miserably. Lando also fails to hide his when he sees yours.

"Very much so," he smiles back, moving a hand up to brush some hair off of your face. "Now," he says, slapping his hands down on the counter and flexing slightly, "what kind of roommate would I be if I didn't give you a full show? Anything else you'd like to watch me do?" he says, almost playful, almost serious, liking the idea of being ogled at by you quite nice.

"Well there's a watermelon in the fridge," you tease, tracing your hand down the prominent veins in his arm.

He smirks, watching your hand in motion, "perfect." He doesn't move though, he stays there, absorbed in the way your hand touches his arm.

"Get to it!" you joke, watching as he moves instantly towards the fridge.

In his rush, he doesn't forget to turn back and give you a cheeky wink, followed by a "yes, ma'am."

…

feedback + reblogs appreciated and requests are open :)

[thevoidstaredback]

Adventures In Gotham

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant Side Story

The first time Danny had ever been to Gotham, he swore it would be his last. He was twenty-two at the time.

In an effort to relax after finals had ended, he, Tucker, Sam, Val, Wes, and Dani had been playing a round of Truth or Dare after finishing a few movies. Sam had dared Danny to wander around Gotham without attracting attention to himself. The catch was that he wasn't allowed to use his powers except to fly there and back. His time limit was Sunday night.

They'd all been planning to stay the night at Sam's anyway, so no one would even notice he was gone. Though, the dare had seemed easy at the time, Danny should've realized his luck was not that good.

Regardless, he flew to the outskirts of Gotham City, dropped his transformation, and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that there was some kind of bubble around Gotham preventing the Shades and overall feel of death from leaving. It was overwhelming at first, but he got used to it pretty quickly. The next thing he noticed was that he had walked into somebody's haunt.

Shit.

He made himself presentable and spoke to the night, "I apologise for trespassing," His voice echoed through the open area as though he was shouting in an empty room. Ghost Speak tended to do that. "I mean no hostile intentions. I simply wish to play a game with your protectors." With any luck, whoever this was would be playful or friendly, at the very least. He didn't hold his breath, though.

A lie. He was holding his breath, but that's only because he was nervous!

The night air stilled as though considering his words. Then, a breeze from behind pushed him further into the city. Flapping wings of bats and owls seemed to hide the whispers of "You may come in." and "Be careful." and "You will lose." and "Good luck.".

A vote of confidence from the City Spirit. "Thank you." He was going to be as quick as he could, but he couldn't draw attention to himself. Easier said than done. Batman seemed to know whenever anyone ever stepped foot into his city, especially if they've never been there before. So, he had to play hide and seek with Batman and Robin.

Again, easier said than done.

Danny knows very little about about Gotham and her heroes and villains. What he does know is that Robin is fairly knew to the scene, but also very serious in what he does. He's still a child, though, and he likes to play around a bit. Batman, on the other hand, has already become something of a cryptid, despite only showing himself a year or so ago. Either way, the two balance each other nicely and work well as a team.

Batman and Robin obviously know the entire city inside out, so Danny has to somehow keep an eye on where they are at all times while not drawing attention to himself. Which would be easy, except for the fact that Danny can only sense where non-living beings are. Batman and Robin are very much alive. He's pretty sure. Unless either of them have a shit ton of Shades attached to them, which is unlikely but not impossible, then he'll have to rely on finding them first and keeping them within his sight as he tours around their city.

Why the hell did he agree to this? He so deserves a reward if he succeeds.

'When', not 'if'. 'If' is pessimistic and implies that Batman might just drop him off a building and watch him fall. 'When' at least lets him continue with the illusion that he may get out of this no deader than when he arrived in Gotham.

All he had to do was basically tour the city, then he'll be done. It went well for the first hour, but then he spotted the shadows moving around him. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but one of those shadows was made out of bright colours. Seeing as his Ghost Sense didn't go off, Danny figured the he'd just run straight into Batman and Robin.

Shit. Fuck. Okay, play it cool, Danny.

He ran. He ran as fast as he could without using his powers. When he was sure he'd lost the two vigilanties, he allowed himself to stop in an alley somewhere in the Narrows. (The map he looked at was coming in very handy all of a sudden)

"Could be worse," he said to himself, backing into a corner.

The sound of shattering glass and the scurrying of mice and rats gave the impression of laughter and taunting. Which, rude, but fair.

"Your Knights, my lady," he spoke into the darkness, "are terrifying."

"Who you talking to?"

Danny did not jump. He didn't! Liar.

The kid, about twelve years old, was in bright green, red, and yellow. His hair windswept and he didn't seem even the slightest bit out of breath, let alone tired. Shouldn't he be in bed? Did he have a bedtime? He should have a bedtime, in Danny's expert opinion.

"Did you know that humans are endurance hunters?" Robin had been smiling since he dropped down in front of Danny. And if that wasn't a scary ass line to hear from a twelve year old up way past his bedtime-

No, he's not intimidated. "It's, um, a good thing I'm not completely human then, huh?" Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shut up, Danny! Stop talking! Right now!

This made Robin frown and the shadows started to move again, Batman taking his place just behind the boy. "What do you mean?"

Damn, he's scary! Danny's a sucker for a deep voice with a growl, damn.

"I, um," Intelligent response, Danny. King of the Realm Between Realms of Infinity. Keeper of Balance, Timeless Protector of the Dead and Living, and he can't even form a proper sentence.

Batman and Robin's stares were uncomfortably similar, even as Robin tilted his head ever so slightly to the right.

For all his wisdom, Danny couldn't see how he could manage to get out of this without using his powers. So, "Gottagobye!" he let intangibility and invisibility wash over him and he slipped through the wall behind him. From there, he let the rings of light cover him and he flew away.

He'll take the L. That was scary as hell!

The night wind brushed against him, the sound of breaking bones and cackling telling him to come by to play again some time. Had Gotham's City Spirit lead her Knight and his child to Danny? Probably. She seemed like the type. At least she seems to like him? Silver linings.

"I'm never going there again," he muttered halfway to Illinois.

Storyboard

Tag List:

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[im-poe-dameron]

THE HEART OF A SHIP

a/n: this fic is a result of wine and rewatching the force awakens. honestly my brain always short circuits whenever oscar isaac comes on screen. so i had to do something. it was meant to be small, but i literally couldn't stop writing so it became this. it's an idea that has been lingering in my head for awhile, i just had to let it simmer for a bit. and now it's fully cooked.

summary: you and poe were inevitable. two asteroids set on a course to crash into one another. a celestial event that would happen whether you wanted it or not. you just never expected it to happen so soon.

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, alcohol consumption, love confessions sort of??, poe being romantic as fuck, p in v sex, guided masturbation, biting, sex in an x-wing, sex in a public place, unedited but we live and die by the fucking pen.

Intoxicating.

That was the only way you’d describe him. The only word that ever did him justice. He was the human embodiment of an Antakarian Fire Dancer. You got hammered on it one year after two glasses of the amber liquid, proceeding to forget half the night yet eager for more. Nothing could describe the man before you better. It simply wouldn’t do him justice. He was the itch beneath your skin that you could never satisfy, the reason you stood there now.

A glass of that amber liquid in both hands.

He’d disappeared from the celebration. An hour in from congratulations and happy faces, you watched him leave when no one was looking. And you did nothing to stop it. You knew he wasn’t one to relish in the joys of battle well done. Always intent on focusing towards the next thing—the next fight. It’s how you knew Leia would make him General, why he was so good at leading, at keeping the people he loved safe.

“Leaving without saying goodbye is rude, you know.”

He jumped slightly where he stood, his back to you, a holopad in one hand and a tool in the other. Of course he’d be here, fixing his X-Wing in silence. His own little ritual. You couldn’t count how many times you found him here after a fight, finalizing the last few checks before he caught some sleep. If he slept at all. Poe always seemed to be on the move no matter the time of day—a constant in the Resistance even when everyone else seemed to have lost faith.

“I said goodbye,” he joked, head turning slightly to see you come around, the holopad getting traded for a glass. “Just couldn’t see you in the crowd.”

You smiled. “You’re a shit liar Dameron.”

“I know.” He took a sip, winced, and laughed—the sound practically lighting you up inside. Igniting you like a fucking lightsaber.

“What’s the damage report?” 

“Nothing I can’t fix.” He glanced back at the scraped up hunk of metal he loved more than anything. The amount of care he put into keeping her going was admirable—if a little insane at times.

But he was right. The damage was nothing he couldn’t fix.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” The smile still played on your lips, eyes alight and aiming to start something you wanted him to finish.

Poe caught onto it quicker than you expected. He could see it before you followed him out of the celebration. A promise that lingered in the air from months of longing looks and timid words. Something inevitable and real. So much so that you were willing to bet everything that he felt exactly the same way you did.

You wanted each other. That was clear from day one. But doing something about it became difficult when war was a constant and lives were put in peril on the daily. Poe didn’t want to leave you broken beyond repair if he never made it back. Just as you didn’t want to do the same to him.

The fucked up thing about it though was Poe would mourn you either way. He’d live his life half a man if you never graced him with your presence again. If you weren’t around to smile at him from across rooms and laugh at his shitty jokes. He was pretty sure he’d already started. Being away from you was like a poison he constantly had to take, a pain he didn’t want to endure. And if it were up to him…he’d choose you every time.

No matter the consequences.

“You ever been in an X-Wing before?” he asked, trying to see past the bits and pieces of the ache that hurt you both.

You rolled your eyes and Poe felt his chest tighten. “You know I haven’t. I’m not pilot material.”

“Sounds like bantha shit to me starlight.”

The name you’d heard so many times before echoed differently to you now. You wanted to break through its meaning and find the promise within. The antidote to this fucking ache that stuck to your chest. You wanted to rip it out and grind it up. You wanted to finally take what you desired, relish in the feel of calling him yours without the pain of knowing what came next. The both of you were trying to save your emotions—protect yourselves—but there was no use.

Poe had found a home in your heart and he was there to stay.

“Come with me.”

When it came to him you had no choice but to listen, following dutifully behind in a haze of want. He climbed up the ladder on the side of his ship, plopping down into the seat with the grace of a pilot who’d done it a million times before. The movement now muscle memory at this point. Whereas you clambered up—buzzed on one drink—nearly falling into the cockpit. He grabbed your arm at the last minute, helping you slowly maneuver your way in, until you were perched on this lap.

The seat was barely big enough to fit him let alone you as well. And yet…you’d never felt more comfortable. He pulled you back slightly, hands pressed to your hips, chest snugly placed against your back. With every intake and exhale of breath, you felt him move. Felt his body shift. If you focused, you knew you would be able to feel his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump you’d grown accustomed to.

“Now—“ He precariously balanced his glass on the dash. “Your hands go here.” Covering your hands with his, he showed you how he’d position himself if he were flying. The cold touch of the buttons and knobs beneath your fingers sent electricity up your spine. “These are to shoot.” Another shift. “And this is to aim.”

You sucked in a breath. “Seems complicated.”

“Not at all.” His fingers slid up your arm, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You tried to remember how to take a single breath. “You just have to understand how the ship works. How she moves, what she likes.”

Your breath hitched, body leaning into him more, and finally you felt it. The wall holding both of you back crumbled to the ground. All that remained now was the will to finally do something about it. So you let his hands guide you, watching in anticipation as they moved to your own body, pressing your palms into your stomach.

“There’s always a heart of a ship,” he murmured, moving your hand down. “A pilot guiding the way.”

“Poe…”

"After all, we've got to guide the ship back home." A soft whimper left your lips, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs to contain yourself. If the cockpit of his ship wasn't so fucking small, you had no doubt you'd be spread on his lap, lips connected to his already.

He grinned, his lips brushing across the back of your neck. “For me…” He stopped right above the hem of your pants, your fingers aching to finally delve down further. “That’s always been you.”

The alcohol had all but burned out of your system from how warm you were. His touch guiding yours seemed to have lit something in the base of your stomach, causing it to spread outwards. And you needed more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed your hand beneath the coarse fabric of your pants. The feeling of him cupping your mound—using you all the while—sent a jolt across your body; a soft moan falling free past your lips.

“Maker starlight,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He wasn't wrong. You could feel yourself dripping the longer he spoke, his words affecting you more than you anticipated. Ever since you first met, Poe always held a power over you. A reminder that no matter how many times you tried to rid yourself of him, no matter what you did...he would remain burned into your soul. He'd be part of you until you drew your final breath in this galaxy.

"It's cause of you," you gasped, your fingers and his sliding through your slick. Running along the lips of your cunt, skimming past your clit entirely. "Oh—"

The scrape of his teeth along your neck nearly did you in entirely, the plea hanging off the tip of your tongue in anticipation. He was toying with you. Playing you like a fucking instrument and listening to your melody. Drowning in the sounds you made—the ones he dreamed of. If there was a life after this, a fated place he could go to rest, he'd want it to be here. Crammed into this cockpit with you on his lap, the feel of you sliding through his fingers and the echo of your voice breathing his name sweeter than the alcohol you had handed him earlier.

Poe would do whatever he could to make this moment last just a minute longer.

"Need you."

He kissed the junction where your neck and shoulder met, fingers still guiding yours through your own heat. "I know you do starlight. But you're gonna cum for me like this first." Your sweet little gasp ripped him a part. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off nearly coming in his pants. "Let me guide you."

You nodded and spread your legs as wide as they could go in the cramped space. It wasn't very far, nor did it give him space to do what he really wanted to do to you, but it would have to do for now. The noise of the celebration in the distance only grew louder as people consumed more alcohol, the joy bleeding into the air. But you couldn't give a shit at that moment about why they were happy, or even what occurred before today.

You were lost to the depths that Poe pulled you into.

Heat spilled between your fingertips, a sticky mess starting between the two of you, but that seemed to only drive him forward. He pressed down, sliding your fingers into you with ease, his delving in right beside you—stretching you in a way that had your back arching. Wrapped his arm around your waist, he kept you still, his chin set on your shoulder and chest heaving with controlled breaths. A way for him to keep the last bits of his sanity as he felt your walls clamp around his fingers.

"Fuck baby," he grit between clenched teeth. "You really did need me huh?"

Nodding, you felt him press even further, fingers searching for something.

"You're gonna make a mess on me." Pumping his hand, he felt your body shudder—your mouth falling open as a ragged moan echoed in the ship. "Gonna take me so easily. I'll slip right in."

You burned from the inside out. A searing heat pulling tight across your body until you could nothing but fall into it. There was no fighting against that aching bliss, no running from what you wanted, what you dreamed of. Poe was intent on breaking you apart right there on his lap, and he'd watch with a smile on his face as you spilled yourself between the rough pads of his fingers. As you made a fucking mess on his lap.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, curling his fingers forward and nudging against something blinding. You cried out, hand grasping at his wrist to either pull him away or keep him right there. You couldn't tell at this point. And he smiled. "Is that it?" Rubbing against the spongy patch along your walls, he felt your entire body lock up, a whimpered sob breaking from your chest. "Yeah. That's fucking it."

You tried to warn him, his name a garbled echo of nonsensical letters on your tongue. But he already knew. His hand sped up, practically pushing your fingers out of the way as he gave you everything you wanted. Poe was certain that he wanted this more than you, that deep down he needed to know that you came because of him. That he was capable of turning you into a sobbing mess.

The echo of his pained grunt was loud in your ears, his hips pressing up into you to relieve the pressure of need he felt, and that's what did it. The knowledge that he was as gone as you were. That he had always wanted you.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, a splintered moan falling past your parted lips as the pleasure spilled over. And he buried his face into your neck, a broken sound of his own muffled by your warm skin. He fought against finishing, biting into your shoulder as he worked you through your release. Adamant to make this last for you—to drag you to the Maker and back with a sated smile on your face.

Eventually you couldn't take it anymore, pleasure bleeding into pain, and you dragged his hand away. A breathless sigh of his name shooting right to his cock.

Without knowing it you had broken him for anyone else. Obliterated his ability to ever see someone the way he saw you.

You and your beauty. Your ability to render him speechless, breathless, and at your fucking mercy. For so long he was the ship lost in space with no sense of direction to lead him back to something real, a purpose. But then you settled into his heart. You became his pilot, guiding him through the never-ending void of space. You kept him afloat even as the weight of the galaxy threatened to drag him down, happy to watch him crash and burn in as so many others had done before.

"That was new," you giggled, hand reaching back to run through his hair.

He smiled, his heart twisting in his chest and fingers still covered in your slick coming to grip at your hips. "To think..." Pressing your ass down against his hard cock, he felt the breath hitch in your chest. "We could have been doing this the whole time."

"W-What a loss," you breathed, that now familiar all encompassing need filling your veins once more.

As if he knew your body so well already, he began to pull at your pants, helping you strip yourself to the best of your ability. The soft clinking of his belt echoed loudly in the cockpit and for a moment you were sure that people in the distance could hear it. But that thought quickly left your mind the second you felt the hot skin of his cock pressing against your lower back—his precum wet and sticky now smeared against your skin. Saliva filled your mouth, the ache pulling at your chest, clawing its way to the surface.

You didn't simply want him. That was too small of a word to explain the feeling in your body. You breathed for him. You lived for him. Poe was the blood that streamed in your veins, the reason your heart beat the way it did. Because it beat for him.

"Say you want this," he grunted, grinding against your skin, his fingers digging in harder than before. Until blood nearly pricked at the surface.

"Yes." The word was out of your mouth before he could even finish speaking. "Maker, I've wanted this for so long."

A growl hit your ears, his nose pressed into your back as he lifted you slightly, and you felt like you would rip to shreds if he didn't hurry. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, sliding into you with slippery ease. And you pressed back against him, desperate to feel him sink into you fully. To be stretched out around his cock. Poe choked on his breath when your warm heat encompassed his throbbing length so suddenly, nearly throwing him off the edge entirely.

"Fuck starlight. You're gonna have to give me a second."

Your lips curled up into a grin. "Yes, General."

For a moment Poe could only process the breaths he took, the word entering his already blank mind. It wasn't until a searing heat shot up his spine at the sound of his title leaving your lips, did he fully understand. His hips pushed up into you, forcing him to sink just a bit deeper. You clutched at the side of the ship, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. The position had him pressing right along your walls, the underside of his cock grinding blissfully against you.

"I used to think you had no idea." He pushed you up slightly until his cock was halfway out and he glanced down, moaning at the sight of him covered in your slick. Only to pull you back down hard. Your choked cry was like music to his ears. "Didn't know what you do to me. How my whole fucking body belonged to you."

"Poe—"

He repeated the movement, smiling at the noises that came free. "But I was wrong."

A pressure quickly built in the base of your stomach, threatening to destroy you. And you chased it. Meeting his thrusts, you fucked yourself on his cock, hands pressed to the dash in front of you and back arched to find the perfect angle that made your toes curl in your boots. Ragged breaths filled the space, accompanied by broken moans and stunted grunts. Each one louder than the last as you both took and took and took, until the very edge of bliss mounted in your bodies.

He gripped the back of your neck, hand fisting at your hair as he pulled you back roughly against his chest. And you fell into it. Whining his name when he grinded up slowly, your walls clamped down around his cock. You could barely see straight through the burn of tears that glazed your eyes, a fucked out expression painted perfectly on your face. And Poe wished he could see you from where he was, catch a glimpse of the way your eyes rolled back, neck on display for him to bite.

"You know exactly what you do to me, starlight." His mouth fell open in a silent moan when his balls drew up painfully, cock throbbing along your walls. He quickly shoved his hand into your slick, fingers locating your clit with ease.

"Maker—" You heard him bite out your name like a prayer he couldn't get out fast enough. A plea for you to give him everything you had, everything that made you who you were. "I'm— Fuck I-I'm—"

"Yes," he groaned, using his other hand to cup your chin and pull your lips to his. Finally kissing you after years of dreaming it would happen. "Fucking give it to me baby."

His tongue licked into your mouth, swallowing every sound you made with ease. The feel of his lips against yours shoved you towards your release. A muffled cry of his name echoing in his mouth as your body went taut, thighs quaking as you gushed on his cock. He choked, mouth open and panting against yours, following you instantly and spilling into your cunt—filling you until you were sure it was dripping out of you and gathering at the base of him.

"Yours," he sighed against your lips, thumb running along the top of your cheek. "'M yours."

The twist of your heart brought you down from your high, your eyes fluttering open as he stared at your kiss swollen lips, the way his spit smeared along your bottom one. You expected him to take it back once he slipped out of you. Surely this was nothing but a dream, a moment in time that may never happen again. But in his eyes you saw devotion. You saw the inevitable future that was always bound to happen.

"Me too."

He smiled, nose brushing against yours. "Guess we're stuck with each other starlight."

"That doesn't sound too bad to me, General."

He tsked under his breath, fingers coming to grip your chin—brown eyes flashing up to meet your gaze. "You're causing trouble."

You grinned, grinding on his softened cock that was still buried deep in you. "And if I am?"

The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, slowly growing hard with interest. "Hands on the controls baby." He nipped at your bottom lip. "You know what to do."

A soft flutter filled your stomach as you followed his direction. Taking the lead in a dance that you were now familiar with. With Poe everything came with ease, as if you'd gone through it with him hundreds of times over. And guiding him home was just the beginning.

[psylocke142]

I'll wait for you.

Sana x fem!reader

synopsis: You and Sana have an on/off relationship. You broke up again two weeks ago. Then you begin to talk at a school event again.

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: angst; hopeless romantic; no happy endings here; on/off relationship; more angst; complicated relationship; even more complicated feelings; smoking

a/n: i am trying something new here. i have never written or posted anything before, so bare with me if you decide to check this out. i just felt like trying something here. btw i love sana and i apologize if she seems like the "bad guy" in this fic. :) DMs and asks open to suggestions and feedback.

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You're currently back home, sitting on the roof of this shitty old house. It's been over an hour and the sun is starting to set. However, you can't seem to find the motivation to go back inside. You've been looking back at these past months. Lighting up a cigarette and inhaling a lung full of smoke as you try to figure out where it all went wrong. You're afraid you already know the answer, but one can fake obliviousness.

-- Flashback --

It's been weeks since you were last on good terms. If only you can explain or express how deeply that crushes your heart.

Thursday was open mic night for school. You had finished classes early that day and rushed out of your part-time at the restaurant.

Sana was there along with your friends. You rushed into the cafe, where the open mic was being held. It was crowded.

Anxiety began to rise and take over your body, heart hammering against your chest.

Whether it was from the thought of performing in front of everyone or the thought of seeing Sana, you had no clue.

You had entered through the side entrance. Automatically you searched for her face, wondering if she really did decide to come see you perform.

Sana: of course I'm gonna go!

Y/N: really? you don't have to

Sana: yes i do!

Y/N: ...ok then

Sana: will you be happy if i go?  i mean... do you want me to?

Y/N: ...yea i want you there

Sana: ...

Y/N: ...

Sana: i'm sorry y/n...it's ok if you don't want me to go

Sana: i know things have been weir-

Y/N: please come sana

Y/N: really, i mean it

Sana: oh...ok!

Y/N: ok

As you moved through the crowd you saw the face you've longed for. The person you had been missing. Sana.

She wasn't alone. She was walking next to Momo. The both of them had classes all day so they still had their book bags on them. Their backs were facing you as you approached them. You had an idea.

You walked up to the two girls, making sure to go unnoticed. Then you suddenly yanked on their backpacks lightly while yelling, "I can't do this." Blabbering whatever came to mind first.

Both girls turned around with a scare, Momo screaming loudly of course.

After the initial shock wore off. Sana replied, "What happened?" meanwhile Momo was hitting your shoulder cursing at you.

"I can't do this. I don't think I can go up there."

Despite the punches you were receiving from Momo you were solely focused on Sana. Your gazes met and locked. Sana reached out for your hand to calm your anxiety. Old habits. But you weren't opposed and you didn't feel like pulling back either.

It had been a few days since you both last spoke. Two weeks since you broke up. You would pass each other at school, sharing some of the same classes. But things were a bit different. Post breakup. You texted every once in a while trying to remain friends. Trying to remain in each other's lives. It wasn't the same.

Even though you had broken up, your presence wasn't unwelcomed by Sana. The two of you remained close during the beginning. Sitting down next to each other as you watched the first events. Momo tagged along but stayed a bit behind. You tried playing it cool at first, keeping a slight distance. There's never been any awkwardness between the two of you, so conversation came easily. Almost like nothing ever happened. Almost.

There was a shift in Sana. She went quiet and appeared to be focused on the current musical act, but her face showed she was debating something inside her head. You could tell it was something serious by the way she was chewing on her bottom lip.

You can't recall Sana's exact words. She had leaned close into your side. Her front touching your shoulder. Breath tickling your ear as she whispered, "I miss you y/n/n."

"Take me back y/n..."

"Please."

You turned around to meet her face. The sudden shift in Sana caught you off guard. Not expecting this sudden topic. You regained focus quickly, shifting to Sana's features that were just an inch away. She had a soft, sad smile. Her eyes pleading. Sana was your weakness. Your everything. You couldn't ever say no to her. So you met her eyes and gave her a slight nod while softly smiling at her. Sana's smile grew and she gave you a small peck on the cheek.

The rest of that night was great. Until Sana disappeared.

She had gone off somewhere with Nayeon and Jihyo. The anxiety had returned. This time you were sure that it was about performing later that night. You wanted to run away. Your hands began to sweat and you searched for Sana.

Professor Park came up to you, asked you when you wanted to go up. Currently it was the second open mic participant on stage. He said you could go third or last for the open mic. "I'll go third. I don't want to end it weak." Professor Park laughed at your comment, thinking you were joking. You were joking. Partially.

Sana came up to you as your conversation with the professor ended. When he left you started complaining and pretended you were going to leave. You knew Sana would beg you to stay. She held onto your hands trying to calm you down.

You were up next and had begun to really get nervous. Performances and public speaking just aren't your thing.

The host called up your name. Your hands started to shake. Heart pounded in your ears. You parted from Sana, she slowly let your hands go. You hesitated letting go. You wanted to take her with you.

As you walked up to the stage you heard cheering and applause. You turned to look at the crowd. There you recognized Momo, Mina, Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu cheering loudly. You took the mic and mumbled that you weren't prepared. Though you don't know if you said it loud enough for everyone to have heard. Hopefully no one had caught that.

You recited your poem's title and said it incorrectly. You mentally slapped yourself, but you rectified yourself and restated the title. You continued with your poem. Your voice, hands, and legs weren't as shaky as the previous performances in class. You heard this one guy in the crowd blurt, "Shiiiiiiiitt" as you read through the final lines of your poem.

At the end there was a small hesitation for the applause because of the sudden twist in your work. That was your intention. The applause and cheers came soon. Especially from your friends. You turned to glance at them and saw Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo pretending to wipe tears from their eyes as they "cried" on each other's shoulders. Competing with each other on who could seem the most realistic.

You got down the stage. Hurriedly walked down the middle towards the back of the cafe. To Sana. As soon as you reached her she opened her arms. You wrapped your arms around her. Sana gently rubbed your back as you held tightly onto her. "I'm so proud of you baby" she cooed.

Sana let go and slightly pushed you off to grab a hold of your hand. She led you to a secluded area of the cafe. Then she palmed your face and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

You had missed the feeling of her soft lips.

But like all good things, it came to an end.

Nighttime came quicker than you wanted it to. You were now back in your dorm. All you wanted was to lay in bed and relax. The rollercoaster of emotions draining your energy. But the ride still wasn't over. You were sat up in bed, on the phone with Sana.

She wanted to break up again. She had just asked to get back together a couple hours ago but here you were. Sana asked for space once again. Explaining that she had been dealing with insecurities, didn't know who she was, and had other personal issues. She needed time to find herself and figure things out for herself. As hard as you tried to reassure her, tell her she was perfect, give her nothing but love she insisted she needed space. You respected her decision.

That Friday night felt like it would never end. Felt like you couldn't catch a break. You felt nothing and everything at the same time.

Word was out that you and Sana broke up. Again. How everyone found out, you don't know. You were sitting in the common room before class with Momo and Jeongyeon. They were bickering about some nonsense. You didn't have it in you to join them. So you pretended to read your English textbook. Sana entered the common room. She headed straight towards Miyeon, who was across the room, to ask her about upcoming finals. You couldn't stop yourself from looking at her. That was when Nayeon and Jihyo joined your table.

Nayeon shoved your shoulder, "Why aren't you with your girl?"

"She's not my girl," you whispered.

Somehow Momo and Jeongyeon who were bickering the entire time with Jihyo included, who joined in as soon as she sat down, managed to hear and quieted down. They all looked at you, their eyes a mix of pity and sadness. This wasn't anything new to them but it still saddened them to hear the news.

Nayeon had always been supportive of you and Sana. She was the one who introduced you to one another. So she couldn't help but to gently ask, "Why?"

As you remembered all of yesterday's events, Sana whispering to take her back. Holding her hands again. Being wrapped in her arms. Her soft warm lips. Her warm smile and gentle eyes. Being comforted by her. Having her close. The long conversation you had over the phone. The break up. The space she wanted. You felt your chest contort and rip in two.

"I don't know."

"Well, I do know but I just don't want to say."

It was clear what Sana wanted. She made sure of that. You just couldn't explain that to Nayeon and the others without breaking. Thankfully, they seemed to have understood that.

"Hey, we get it. It'll be alright y/n/n." Jeongyeon calmly said as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

"C'mon now let's head to class."

All of you got up and started to head for class.

Throughout the day you dragged yourself from class to class. Trying to forget about Sana. You were failing miserably. You decided to head to the restroom to splash some water on your face. See if that would help.

As you were about to push the restroom door it was suddenly pulled open from the other side. You looked up to find Sana, surprised to see you. Your eyes met and you felt your heart clench. You weren't thinking. Your brain stopped working and your heart started going into overdrive, so you jokingly muttered, "Excuse me...I'm just going in for a quick cry" as you squeezed beside Sana to enter.

Sana quickly turned around and headed towards you. Shutting the door in the process.

You felt a hand take a hold of your wrist pulling you back. You didn't expect Sana to follow you in. You really did feel like crying now.

Sana studied you. You couldn't meet her gaze.

She apologized and you couldn't conjure up a response. You just stood there staring at the floor. Brain still not functioning. Heart still in overdrive, wanting nothing but Sana. Your heart fought with itself inside your ribcage. The hammering and ache screaming to run and stay.

Then she pulled you into her arms. As much as you wanted to cry mere seconds ago you couldn't. Your heart was rushing with a mix of emotions, but the fight inside from earlier had subsided. You just let yourself sink into Sana for the moment. You wanted to kiss her. So you pulled back a little and leaned in. Halfway through you felt Sana's arms begin to come up your shoulders. Getting ready to push you back. It was then you realized you shouldn't, so instead you swiftly glided your head to lean on Sana's shoulder. You couldn't help but let out a defeated sigh. Your heart sunk so low.

A pair of hands lifted to caress the back of your neck. Sana guided your head up and leaned in. The kiss was soft, it was more than a peck but still it felt too short. You had gotten what you wanted, but you didn't know how to feel about that.

Sana pulled back and softly palmed the side of your face caressing you with a sad smile. You tried reciprocating as best as you could, but your smile was much smaller and weaker than Sana's. Then she exited the restroom. Leaving you there. You stood there for a while. You couldn't stop replaying what just happened. You felt so stupid. Lost.

-- End of Flashback --

The sun has fully set. Your thoughts are still filled with Sana. Will she ever come back? It's been at least half a year since then. You still see her around campus but she's always glued to Miyeon's hip. Any and all attempts to get her to talk to you are intercepted by her best friend. Sana also makes an effort in ignoring you. If you pass each other in the hall she practically sprints away with her head down. Or she feigns to be doing something on her phone. Face immensely close to her phone trying to block her face from your sight. If you catch her staring at you she turns away instantly. If she's hanging out with Momo, Nayeon, or any of your other friends she makes an excuse to leave. Never acknowledging your presence. She practically runs from you. It left you dumbfounded the first couple of times. Leaving the others to apologize on Sana's behalf. You couldn't handle the pain all of Sana's actions caused you. So you stopped trying to reach out or get close. You accepted the distance she wanted to create.

Now you just feel a hollow cavern that continues to grow inside your chest as more time passes. At this point your ribcage feels sore from the constant fight and ache your heart has been through. All you could do is sigh as you put out the remaining bud of the cigarette you had lit up. Lazily you brush yourself off to head back inside.

"I'll wait until you're ready."

[kiss-me-cill-me]

hello! 🤍 i love your writing, you’re very talented <3 if you are up to the idea, i’d like to request a professor!jonathan crane x student!reader fic 🫶🏻 maybe fluff that leads to smut? thank u ily

Hello, anon! You're my very first request ever; this is so exciting! First of all, thank you for being so nice ❤️ And second, I will certainly give it my best shot! I will say that I struggle to write a fluffy Crane, so this might not be exactly what you pictured but I did try to make him a little less... diabolical than I usually would haha. But either way, I hope you enjoy!

Stimulus Response Theory

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Your professor's lesson on classical conditioning leaves you feeling flustered and frustrated, and Crane knows there's only one way to relieve the tension.

Warnings: Smut, slight exhibitionism, power play dynamics, teasing, tickling, manipulation, semi-public sex, established student/teacher relationship

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

“Stimulus. Response. Theory.”

Dr. Crane’s words echoed through the lecture hall, and dozens of students bent to scribble in their notebooks or tap at their keyboards. You, on the other hand, sat in a chair at the front of the room, harsh light blaring into your eyes from the projector as you faced the rows of crowded seats. Crane stood beside you, and brandished something from his breast pocket.

“A very basic concept,” your professor continued. “Wherein there is a stimulus-”

He held up his hand, and you took note of the fluffy, red feather that was firmly pinched between his fingers.

“That, when presented to the subject-”

Crane brought his hand and the feather close to your face, tickling you just at the tip of your nose. You jumped and pulled away, letting out a small, strangled noise. Dr. Crane smiled, but made sure his expression was neutral before turning back to the rest of the class.

“Results in a response,” Crane finished.

He stepped behind you, and you felt your stomach drop, just a fraction of an inch. Not being able to see him made you nervous, but in a pleasant way that had you crossing your legs more than anything else. You shifted a little in the hard plastic seat.

“Stimulus response can explain many basic behaviors,” Crane lectured. “But it is also the basis for what Ivan Pavlov termed ‘classical conditioning’ - through which, a subject can be trained to elicit a response that is normally associated with one stimulus, in response to a second, unrelated trigger.”

A few of the students in the front rows nodded their heads. Everyone had heard of Pavlov, of course; he and his dogs were covered in every Intro to Psych class at every college everywhere. Gotham University was no different, and so most people in Dr. Crane’s class were familiar with the concept. Still, it never hurt to go over the fundamentals before diving into the deeper lesson. At least, that was the excuse Crane had used when he called you up to the front of the room, asking you to help demonstrate something to the class.

Crane stepped back into your field of view, and you looked obediently up at him. Just the sight of him was enough to make your heart pump a little bit faster. Unbeknownst to the rest of the students in the lecture, you had been sleeping with your professor since almost the beginning of the semester. Things had started out innocently enough; you had visited his office hours a few times, asking for help with a lesson at first. Then, quickly, you fell into the habit of stopping by even if you didn’t have a question. And finally, of course, you’d ended up with your lips pressed desperately against his and your shirt thrown carelessly into the corner of the room. Things had only continued from there.

“Classical conditioning is most effective when the response being elicited is one of natural reflex,” Crane explained to the class. “For Pavlov, this was dogs salivating at the sight and smell of their food. For our subject here-” he motioned to you, “brushing this feather against her skin causes her to reflexively flinch.”

He demonstrated again by trailing the red feather along your wrist, which did indeed cause you to jerk back your arm. A few snickers leaked out of the faceless crowd of students.

“Now, when the naturally evocative stimulus is repeatedly paired with a second stimulus, such as the sound of a bell, Pavlov discovered that the response could be ‘transferred’ to that secondary stimulus. So that, eventually, the sound of the bell alone will elicit the same response - even in the absence of the original stimulus. For example…”

Crane tapped the small metal desk bell sitting on the table beside you. The bell rang, and Crane swiftly raked the feather over your arm, making you jump again.

“Now we’ve paired our two stimuli, and as we continue to solidify the link between them in the mind of the subject-”

He rang the bell and tickled you again, this time brushing the feather over your bare leg. You deeply regretted wearing cut-offs. The touch of the feather made you flinch, but, at the same time, you also started to feel a sharp jolt coursing through your core.

“Eventually, the sound of the bell alone will make her react.”

Crane continued lecturing, telling the class about Pavlov’s dogs and other famous examples of conditioning. At somewhat random intervals, he would stop whatever he was doing to ring the bell and brush the feather over various parts of your body. It seemed like he drifted over every inch of your exposed skin; anywhere he could reach. When he dragged it across your jaw, you nearly had to bite your tongue to stop from letting out a gasp. You were starting to enjoy this a bit too much, and realized to your shock that you were getting wet. You shifted in your seat again, hoping that no one else noticed what was happening to you.

“Using these concepts,” Crane said. “Virtually any stimulus can be paired with any other to create a learned response.”

The little bell rang again, and your whole body tensed, jerking in anticipation of the feather even as arousal pooled between your legs. Your face turned hot as the class laughed. Crane hadn’t even touched you.

“As you can see, if the initial relationship between stimulus and reaction is ingrained deeply enough, it doesn’t take very long at all to transfer to the second stimulus.” Crane smiled. 

He was looking down at you, his expression mild. The red feather was tucked away, safely, in his pocket.

“Thank you,” Dr. Crane said, nodding. “You can go back to your seat.”

You got up, feeling a bit shaky on your legs, and made your way back to your desk in the front row. Almost as soon as you’d taken your seat, Crane rang the bell again, making you flinch even though you were now halfway across the room. Even worse, you felt yourself clench desperately at the sound. A few snickers came from the students around you, who sat close enough to see you jump. You watched as Crane’s eyes flicked briefly to your knees, which you were pressing together in a feeble attempt to try and control your reaction. He quickly composed himself, straightening up a little as he changed slides on the projector.

“Now,” he said, returning to his usual place behind the podium that stood next to the table. “Let’s talk about John Watson and his contributions to the theory.”

You tried to focus on taking notes, but couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted again and again to the silver bell, still perched just on the edge of Crane’s reach.

After class, as the other students went about packing up and heading to their next lecture, you shoved your books in your bag and hurried to catch Dr. Crane before he left the room.

“Professor?” you said, timidly. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Crane glanced briefly at his watch, then looked up at you with a smile. He stood just in front of the table, the torturous silver bell to his left.

“Of course,” he answered. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, waiting for the last few people in the room to hurry on their way. There was a lump in your throat, and you swallowed against it, trying to press it down. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. Crane had seen you in much more intimate positions than this. But, something about him taunting you in front of a lecture hall full of other people had you feeling bothered, and in more ways than one. He had probably meant it to be harmless. Of course he liked you; it only made sense for him to pick you as his “volunteer” for a simple demonstration like this. He couldn’t have known the effect it would have on you, surely.

“I… um,” you tried to start. 

The two of you were alone now, and you should have been able to spit it out. Still, for some reason your tongue was like dry cotton in your mouth. Your eyes drifted again to the bell, sitting within arm’s reach.

“I’m sorry, but… could you not ask me to volunteer for any more… things like that?” you muttered.

Crane seemed to consider your body language. He noticed the way you refused to look him in the eye, instead focusing on the shiny desk bell. You wrung your hands together, and shifted your weight from hip to hip.

“Is something the matter?” Dr. Crane asked.

“It’s just… it makes me a little uncomfortable,” you explained.

Crane stood close beside you, and reached out to touch the side of your wrist. His fingers were gentle; feather-light. But that only served to make things worse, and you felt yourself start to come dangerously close to unraveling again. If Crane noticed the way you subtly clenched your legs together, he didn’t say anything about it. 

“I’m sorry,” he told you instead. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay!” you blurted out. Suddenly, you were worried you had offended him. “It’s my fault, really. I just…”

His fingers took hold of your wrist a bit more tightly, and he brought your hand up to circle his waist. You leaned into the hug, feeling at once both secure and yet unrestrained with desire as his arms wrapped around your shoulders. You caught a whiff of his cologne, slightly spicy with a hint of smoke. The smell only pulled you that much deeper into your internal battle.

“Just what?” Crane prompted.

“I just… don’t want to get turned on like that in class,” you whispered, embarrassment flooding your cheeks. “It’s bad enough having to listen to you; trying to pay attention when all I can think about is-”

Crane hooked a finger under your chin, pulling back from the hug a bit to make you look up at him. There was a sheen in his eyes that made you nervous, but also caused the heat in your stomach to grow.

“Turned on?” Crane echoed. “Why would you be turned on by what I did?”

The smile at the corners of his mouth told you that Crane knew the answer to his own question. Maybe he wasn’t as innocent in this as you had wanted to think.

“I think it’s just, um… you touching me like that…”

“Oh. Like this?”

Crane pulled the devious red feather back out of his breast pocket. Holding it up to the column of your neck, he dragged it slowly down toward your collarbone.

“Ah!” This time, you couldn’t stifle your gasp. Even though the lecture hall was empty, you still felt a rush of shame and embarrassment. You and Crane had had sex a few times in his office, but always with the door safely locked. Here, everything felt too public. Too exposed. Crane let the feather fall, red plume drifting to the floor.

“Professor…” 

“Hm. I wonder…” Crane mused. 

He reached behind himself to press down on the little bell, still sitting innocently on his desk. At the sound of the ring, you faltered and sank a little closer to him. The mumbled cry that fell from your lips was very unconvincingly muffled.

“Mm.” Crane smiled down at you. “You know, that’s the problem with classical conditioning. It’s just so hard to control all the variables. Sometimes the response is transferred to a secondary stimulus that was never intended, like the sight of the lab assistant who brings the dog’s food instead of the sound of the bell. And sometimes…” He rang the bell again, and you clenched, walls fluttering pathetically around nothing.

“Additional implicit reactions are accidentally transferred,” he finished.

You were feeling dizzy. Barely paying any attention to Crane’s impromptu lesson, all you could focus on was the buzzing heat between your legs. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Crane smirked. He brought his face close to yours, nose trailing over the curve of your jaw as he whispered to you. “I didn’t know a little teasing would turn you into such a mess.” 

His voice was sweet, even as his words dug into you. He kissed along your jaw, and you felt yourself slump against him. Crane supported your weight effortlessly, shifting his body to lean back against the table so that he could feel you press into him fully. You let out a whimper as he kissed you again, this time pressing his lips to the very corner of your mouth.

“Poor thing,” Crane mused. “Here - let me help you.”

His hands moved down to the backs of your thighs, and before you could say a word he had spun you around and lifted you up on top of the desk. He kissed you, fully on the lips this time, and started to trail his soft fingers up and down your legs. His faint touch against your bare skin was driving you crazy. Usually, he was much more direct - taking what he wanted and not wasting time on too much foreplay. This was different, and all of it was making your head spin. When one of his hands reached the hem at the leg of your shorts, you took in a sharp breath of air.

“W-what are you-?”

“What do you think I'm doing?” he teased. “You said you were turned on, darling. I'm just taking care of that little problem for you.”

His fingers pushed under the hem of your shorts, resting on the top of your thigh. The tight fabric forced him to press into your flesh; pads of his fingers making you squirm under the more intense pressure. You hummed, clenching the edge of the desk.

“Look at you - falling apart when I've barely even touched you,” rasped Crane. “At least, not anywhere that usually makes you this desperate.”

His other hand snaked up to roam under your shirt, drifting over the side of your waist. Your breath hitched.

“I do seem to remember you liked it one time when I touched you here,” he laughed, dark voice sinking into your skin.

His mouth was at your neck, and the hum of his words felt like butterflies. Your whole body shivered, and Crane pressed a burning kiss to your collarbone.

“Mmm, I know you asked me not to volunteer you for any more demonstrations,” Crane said. “But I think if doing it makes you this needy, I might not be able to resist.”

He kissed your neck again, this time biting down softly. You let out a moan as you felt his teeth press into your skin.

“Besides, you wouldn't say no to your professor, right? If he asked you to do something?”

“O-of course not,” you replied. Dr. Crane liked when you were obedient.

“Good. Then I need you to do something for me right now.”

Crane pulled back to look into your eyes. His soft smile made your heart flip in your chest. His lips were red from kissing you, and as he opened them to speak, his deep voice sounded like honey.

“Take off your shorts, and bend over.”

The lump that had been in your throat earlier sank down into your stomach, and then even lower. Crane was still looking back at you, teasing eyes clear and bright behind his glasses. 

“I don't know…” you hesitated. “Here?”

Crane reached over to tap the little silver bell, and the ring sent a pulse straight into your core. It was humiliating how fast he had wrapped you around his finger, without even trying to.

“Don't worry; it'll wear off eventually,” Crane said. “Probably. Permanent conditioning takes much more reinforcement. But for now…”

He rang the bell again, and you jumped. The ache was becoming unbearable, and you knew you couldn't hold out for much longer.

“For now, I'm going to have some fun,” Crane taunted. “Now take off your shorts, darling.”

This time, you hurried to do as he said. You shuffled out of the denim shorts, standing up to let them fall to the floor. As he had ordered earlier, you turned away from him, and bent over the table.

Crane's hands drifted over your hips, coming down to grab at your panties.

“I'm sorry; I should have been more clear.”

Suddenly, he yanked them down, quickly exposing you to the chill of the air.

“I wanted these off, too,” he clarified.

Naked from the waist down, you had a brief moment to consider the situation you now found yourself in. You were facing away from the door, fully on display for him and anyone else who might happen to walk into the classroom. Your professor didn't seem to be too bothered by the idea, as his hand grabbed your ass and pushed your legs open just a bit wider, getting a better view. But then again, maybe he wasn't thinking too clearly right now either. He pushed up your shirt, bunching the fabric so that your back was exposed. You considered asking him to stop so that you could move things to his office, where at least you could lock the door for a little privacy. But any objections you had were forgotten at the rough sound of Crane’s pants zipper. 

You felt him press up against your entrance, gently parting your folds as he dragged the head of his hard cock up and down.

“You really are turned on,” Crane marveled. “And all over a little feather…”

As he spoke, you felt the soft plumes of the feather moving gently over your spine. You tensed again. Crane must have picked it back up when your back was turned, and now he was teasing you, slowly, swirling the feather over the swell of your ass.

“S-stop!” you begged, jerking away from the sensation.

“Do you really want me to?” Crane whispered. “Or are you just embarrassed at how wet I'm making you?”

He lazily trailed the feather over your leg, teasing you with the very tip of the soft red bristles. His cock was still on the verge of penetrating you, and you felt him twitch as your body reacted, bucking against the touch of the feather.

“N-no,” you stammered. “Don't stop.”

“That's what I thought,” Crane smirked. 

He started pressing into you, and the feeling was exactly what you needed. All of his teasing had driven you almost to the edge, and as soon as he was inside of you, you felt yourself inching dangerously closer.

“I should tease you like this more often.” Crane was pulling out of you again, only to slam his hips back into you, making your whole body bounce on the table. “If I'd known I could make you this wet, and this desperate, I would have moved the conditioning lesson up a few weeks.”

He laughed, and you felt yourself melting around him. The drag of his cock was so good as he pulled out, and the snap of his hips made you see stars as he pushed in. When Crane brought the puff of the feather up to trail over the back of your arm, you clenched violently, and he moaned.

The sound seemed to echo in the huge, empty room. Crane stayed still for a moment, buried so deep inside of you that it hurt. Then, he started moving again, this time at a faster pace.

“S-slow down,” you begged.

“Why? So you can beg me to stop teasing you again?” Crane taunted. “You can't have it both ways, sweetheart - try to make up your mind.”

You couldn't, of course. With the way he was pounding into you, the only available space in your brain was completely devoted to him - his perfect, veiny cock, and how it was stretching you out, mercilessly. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the desk, clawing at the smooth faux-wood finish.

“Ah!”

You yelped as Crane rang the bell again, not taking even a small break from thrusting, and for what must have been the dozenth time, you clenched around him.

Between the bell and the feather, your head was spinning. Dimly, you felt certain that Crane had abandoned all actual application of Stimulus Response Theory long ago. He was recklessly using whatever tools there were at his disposal; working you up and making sure that all the wires in your brain were thoroughly and completely crossed. You didn't care though. Whatever made you fall apart for him was fine with you.

“M’so close,” you slurred, fingers curling into the desk.

Crane brought the feather down to the curve of your waist, tracing over the spot that drove you crazy. Just like he had recalled earlier, it made you go nearly feral with lust. That was all you needed to tip over the edge that had been taunting you for so long. As you fluttered all around him, Crane followed right after you.

“Oh my god!” you cried, not caring anymore that you were still in the classroom.

Crane's shallow moans and grunts behind you were enough to make you squeeze him again, milking his cock as it emptied into you.

“Oh my god,” you repeated, a little quieter now as the reality of what you had just done sank in.

“I’ll say. That was… intense,” Crane laughed.

He pulled out of you, and you felt his seed drip down the inside of your thigh. You saw him scrambling for something to help you clean up with as you turned around, still needing to lean against the table for support.

“Here.”

He offered you a clump of napkins, scavenged from somewhere deep inside the speaker’s podium. You stuffed them quickly between your legs, trying to wipe up the sticky trails of cum that had already started to snake down. After you'd cleaned up a bit, Dr. Crane leaned forward to kiss you.

His lips still had a hint of the hunger that had passed between you. The feel of them pressed against yours, faint trace of saliva reminding you of the barely-faded passion, made you woozy all over again. He had to hold you to stop you from sinking down onto the table.

“I'd say that was rather stimulating, wouldn't you?” Crane joked.

You felt your face heat up, and he brought his thumb softly to trail across the edge of your jaw. Inside, you could still feel the proof of his lust leaking slowly out of you, and the tickling sensation made you flinch.

“I think… I liked that a little too much,” you admitted.

Your professor smiled down at you, taking in your shy face before bringing his lips close to yours for another, sinful kiss. You felt him smile against you as he whispered.

“I think you did, too.”

Deviously, Crane reached behind you to ring the little silver bell.

This fic now has a Part 2 HERE!

[memento-rory]

If possible may you please do more Schlatt x Ted’s partner!reader?

i would be delighted to :) find the first part here.

schlatt tries to be normal with you. he tries so fuckin’ hard, because he never wants you to look at him the way you did when you asked if he hated you ever again. he had never realized how his actions would impact you, only worried about how he’d be impacted.

so, he tries. he’s not very good at it — he’s either too quiet, just barely acknowledging the things you say to him, or too chatty, overcompensating for how not normal he’s being. it’s a fuckin’ nightmare, honestly, but he does it.

it’s a few more agonizing months before ted’s talk of you dies down. he’s mentioning you less and less, and you’re not joining him for events or meetups or parties as often. when asked, ted just says you’re busy, but schlatt can tell he’s lying. he’s always been good at reading ted.

you find yourself talking to schlatt a lot more often now that your relationship with ted circles the drain. (the two of you are trying to make it work, but you’re kidding yourselves.) schlatt’s much more receptive than a few months ago. he sends you messages out of the blue, completely unprompted, and it’s rare that you’re texting him first anymore. saw this and thought of you. hey, have you ever seen this movie? i’m bored, wanna hop on minecraft or somethin’?

about two weeks later, you and ted call it quits. it was inevitable, really. there’s no bad blood, the two of you splitting pretty amicably, promising to remain friends through tears. of course it hurts — you loved ted, truly. he was a good boyfriend (until he wasn’t, you suppose) and it’s a big change. you have to find somewhere else to live, and while ted says you’re free to stay at his place until you find something, it feels a little weird while the breakup is still fresh, and you have no idea how long it will take before you find another place.

that night, schlatt hits you up to play something with him, but you politely decline, saying you’re just not feeling up for it tonight. your phone rings just moments later.

“you okay?” schlatt’s voice comes through your phone speaker.

“yeah, i’m good,” you tell him, though the crack in your voice betrays you. realizing there’s no use pretending, you just let it all come out, trying to stay quiet so ted doesn’t hear you from the other room. you tell schlatt about the breakup and how you need to find somewhere else to be asap.

“you can come stay with me.” schlatt suggests, before he can stop it. in truth, he knows it’s so fucking selfish and more for his own benefit than yours, and it makes him feel a little sick. here you are hurting, and all he can think is, here’s my chance.

“really?” you ask, biting your lip in contemplation. sure, he lives in new york, but you work from home anyway, so it’s not like it would matter if you just up and left LA. it could be a good change of scenery.

schlatt should say no. he should say, “no, (y/n), i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have offered.” but he knows he can’t. it was shitty to offer in the first place, but it would be even shittier to go back on his offer.

“yeah,” schlatt responds instead, silently cursing himself, “could be fun. and we could find ya somethin’ up here, some cute lil apartment or somethin’.”

“okay.” you nod slowly, still weighing the option. it’s so spontaneous, something you’d usually give a little more thought, but as you hear ted padding around the place you used to call home, you decide to take schlatt up on his offer. “okay, yeah. when do you want me?”

now. forever. schlatt finds himself thinking. “how fast can you get packed?”

“i’m already halfway done.” you tell him. you’ve been slowly getting your stuff together for the last few hours.

“how long d’ya think it’ll take you to finish?”

“maybe a day, maybe less.”

“i’ll hire some movers to come get your stuff in two days and book ya a flight.”

“schlatt, no. i can move my own stuff. i’ll just rent a u-haul.”

“just lemme do somethin’ nice for ya, would ya, angel?” the pet name falls from his lips so fast that he doesn’t even register he’s said it. you feel your face heat up.

you’re already letting me live with you, you want to say, but you know there’s no arguing with him.

“fine,” you concede, “i’ll see you in a few days.”

“great.”

“…thanks, schlatt. this really means a lot to me, you know.”

“just trynna help out a friend.” schlatt responds.

helping out a friend is the farthest thing from what he’s doing, but maybe if he says it enough, he’ll believe it.

[muxshwriting]

who we are

Max Verstappen x reader

summary: both of them dreaming, both hoping. But the second one tries to make it reality, it all crumbles down || warning: miscommunications, angst, fluff || word count: 1494 || masterlist

Everyone knew Max and Y/N loved each other. The only people who didn't know that were Max and Y/N. You'd been friends since childhood, growing up a few doors down from Max. You'd followed him to every karting race you could, cheering him on from the sidelines no matter where he finished. When Jos was unhappy, he would spend a weekend at your house, spending all his spare time either karting or with you.

He was your first kiss, when you were both barely teenagers but wanted to know what it felt like. Max had offered, ever so kindly, to show you and you had agreed.

As you grew, many people expected you to grow apart, as you studied at university and Max travelled the world but you never did. You would stay in touch with Max all year round, visiting races when you could. And during the off season, Max would come back to the Netherlands, joining your family for the holidays and taking you abroad. You had gelled with his friends immediately, fitting into the group as if you had always been there. Despite fitting in so well, you and Max could always be found apart from the group of an evening.

You would be tangled up with each other, your legs slung over him and his am resting lazily around your shoulders. If anyone asked, it didn't mean anything. You were friends, best friends. You just found comfort in each others company and liked the warmth the other provided. There was no other reason for your behaviour at all...

“Y/N?” Daniel is tapping you on the back, getting your attention. You were at the home grand prix, waiting for Max to finish up in his driver's room after the race.

“What’s up?”

“Max is asking for you.” He pauses. “It's Jos and it's… it’s pretty bad.”

Before he had even finished speaking, you were rushing out of hospitality and heading towards Max's motorhome. His father was never happy unless Max was winning everything all of the time. Max had placed second, a very good result, especially considering the wet conditions. But second is the first loser to Jos and therefore, Max was a disgrace to the Verstappen name.

You slowly open the door to see a teary-eyes Max looking up at you. You open your arms just in time for Max to fling himself into them and cling on tightly. "Don't listen to Jos, Max. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"He's my dad."

You wrap your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. "You're an adult Max. You don't have to listen to him anymore."

"But-"

"He doesn't understand." You press. "He was never as good as you, alright? He'll never know the feeling of crossing that line first, of winning the championship. You do, you know the feeling ten times over."

"Okay."

"Okay." You smile at him, relishing the feeling of him in your arms. "A bunch of the drivers are going out tonight, you feeling up to it?"

Max nods, slowly pulling away. "I'll pick you up from your room?"

"I'd like that."

Later that night, you smoothed down you dress, fiddling with your hair as you waited. The soft knock on the door sent your heart racing, knowing that it was Max. As you opened the door, Max was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. He tenderly offered you his arm, his shirt falling open just a little more.

The club was packed, full of drivers, their friends and plenty of girls. A small hint of jealousy stirred in your stomach but you pushed it down. Max wasn't yours. You didn't have the right to be jealous when you couldn't even admit it. Danny found you an hour later, moping in a booth you watched Max dance with another girl.

"What are you moping about?"

You motioned your head to Max and the girl. Danny chuckled at your apparent jealousy and slid in next to you.

"I wouldn't worry about some random girl, he's only got real eyes for you."

"Yeah right."

Danny huffed. "You guys fit so well together, you're perfect!"

"You know we don’t work Danny. It would never work out."

"Of course you could be together!" Danny slurred. "Max loved you since you were kids. He’s just scared of his feelings. He doesn’t want to ruin anything."

"What?"

Danny looked confused. "What did I say?"

"You said Max loves me."

Danny grinned, sleepily. "Yeah. He does, he really does but don’t tell him I told you. You’re not supposed to know."

"…Yeah."

You leave Danny to figure out where his limbs are and search the crowd for Max. In your conversation, he'd abandoned the girl, now laughing with a couple other drivers and nursing drinks. You lock eyes across the dance floor, weaving through other people to reach one another.

Underneath the fluorescent glow of the club, two hearts beat in rhythm. You and Max stood facing each other, your eyes locked in a silent conversation that spoke volumes. It was a moment suspended in time, the world around them fading into the background as you leaned closer, drawn together by an irresistible magnetic pull. Your breaths mingled, warm and hesitant.

And then, with a trembling hand and a surge of courage, you close the distance between them, your lips brushing softly against Max's in a delicate dance of anticipation. Max surged forward himself, pressing his lips back into yours, melding perfectly together. Time seemed to stand still as their hearts collided, the world falling away as they lost themselves in the sweet ecstasy of that kiss.

It was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent proclamation of the feelings that had blossomed between them, unspoken but understood. In that fleeting moment, everything changed, their bond deepening with each beat of their hearts. As they finally pulled away, their lips still tingled with the ghost of their embrace.

But Max said nothing. He stared.

Someone bumped into you, pushing you slightly further away. Max didn't move. He just stared at the spot you had been in as you were tussled away by the crowd. You waited by the bar, trying to spot Max amongst the chaos, trying to find him again, to say something, anything. But he had disappeared.

Max hadn't spoken to you since the kiss. It had been a whole week and you had heard nothing. He was answering other people but ignoring all your messages. You had sent him one that night asking if you had overstepped. He had read you message, he had read all of them but he had replied to none.

You had come to the next race anyway, wanting to support him regardless. Danny stuck by your side, welcoming you to his side of the garage so you could avoid Max. You hadn't told Danny exactly what happened, just that you and Max weren't talking.

Your peace was disrupted when Max wandered over to ask Danny for something. He spotted you and paled, his eyebrows creasing together and his eyes softening. Without a word, he turned on his heel and fled, passing a very confused Daniel in the doorway.

Danny bounded over, glancing at a retreating Max. "What's going on with you and Max? He looks like a sad cat."

You sigh. "I kissed him."

"You kissed-" The outburst was immediate. "When?"

"At the party last weekend."

"Why is he so miserable then?"

"I don't know! He hasn't talked to me since. He's not answering any of my texts."

"He’s an idiot." Danny suggested. "Maybe he’s hit his head and forgotten who you are? I’ll go talk to him, alright?"

Danny's pep talk must have worked wonders because it took less than ten minutes for Max to come and find you again, silently sitting down next to you. "I want to talk to you."

"About what?" You’re secretly hoping he wants to tell you that he fucked up, that the kiss meant a lot and that’s why he stayed away, but your brain tells you to think realistically.

Max frowned. "I don’t really know…"

You stay silent, simply looking at Max and waiting.

"I was an idiot." He confesses. "You deserve a whole lot better than what I can offer you… I’m sorry I can’t give you what you deserve."

"Max…"

"No! I fucked up and walked away and then I was too afraid to text you back because I thought I’d ruined it. Then I actually ruined it by ignoring you. When you kissed me, I panicked mainly because I didn’t think it was actually happening and then I realised it was actually happening but you had pulled away." Max said hurriedly. "I just really want to kiss you."

The smile that covers your face is contagious. "Then kiss me."

You and I burned out our steam, chasing someone else's dream.

fallen down my f1 rabbithole... i'm definitely mentally stable xx

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[604to647]

Paperwork

2.8K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: You keep Detective Tim Rockford company while he finishes up his paperwork.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), established relationship, petnames (Shutterbug, baby), semi public sex, unprotected PiV, cockwarming but make it fluffy.

A/N: Another one-shot for The Rockford Portfolio series; as always, all the one-shots can be read as standalones. Is this another procrastination fic? 🤷🏻‍♀️(Sorree.)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always 😘

The background noise of Tim's police precinct can be simultaneously soothing and jarring. The hum of phones ringing, multiple simultaneous conversations, the clicking of keyboards keys, even papers rustling -  when played together it's almost melodic. All these moving parts of routine police work, each emitting their own hypnotic notes, harmonizing together in a lively tune.

Periodically, without warning, something loud and chaotic will cut through the symphonic cacophony and jolt everyone out of their complacency.

Sometimes it’s a perp objecting to being brought in, denying all charges and spitting accusations of injustice.  Other times, it’s the clatter of synchronized movements from multiple officers, roused by an order from command. Since you’ve been here, you’ve witnessed the first one twice and the second one once. And there was also that loud fight between two perps that had been calm when brought in separately, but upon seeing each other in the bullpen had reignited a years old feud with fists and teeth. It had taken seven officers to pull them apart (you had counted).

This time, the interruption comes from the very man whose office you’ve been waiting in for the better part of the last hour.  Tim comes storming into the bullpen, face hard set in a half grimace, half snarl.  He’s breathing heavily; broad shoulders straining against his leather holster straps, rising and falling with each laboured breath.  You knew that he was interrogating a suspect tonight, but when dinner time came and went without him coming home, you knew it was either going very well or very badly.  Making the assessment that he should at least have food waiting for him when he was done, you packed up his dinner and went to the precinct, settling into Tim’s office to wait with a good book.

“Fuck!” Tim angrily kicks a garbage can and it skids towards another officer’s desk before tipping over and spilling its contents.  Tim mutters as he crouches and picks up the mess he made.

His fellow detective who came in with him, tries to lay a reassuring hand on Tim’s shoulder which he shrugs off, “I know it’s not the information we wanted, but it’s still information.”

You know Tim still hasn’t seen you; heart breaking, you see the way your strong, gruff boyfriend’s face falls as he leans on the hands he’s placed atop the nearest desk, closing his eyes and sighing, “That’s not information I ever want to hear.”

“No one does, Rockford.  Why don’t you go take a breather.”

Tim nods, defeated, and you watch him stalk off to the locker room, shoulders hunched - scowl so fearsome several beat cops jump out of his way.

You hate it when the stress of Tim’s job gets to him; usually you only see the tail end of it when he come home, weary and beaten, ready to be comforted.  Tonight is the first time you’ve seen the frustration brimming fresh at its source.  Your poor Tim.

Without a second thought, you seek him out in the locker room.  Entering, you hear water running from one of the sinks and you round a bank of lockers to see Tim splashing water on his face.  Not wanting to startle him, you call his name softly and hold out a few paper towels for him to dry his face.

After a brief flash of surprise at your unexpected presence in the precinct (never mind the officers’ locker room), Tim’s countenance softens when he sees your pretty face laced with concern, “Shutterbug?  What are you doing here?”

You go to him immediately, arms thrown around those shoulders so strong and steady, and press gentle but passionate kisses over and over into his neck, by his ear, down his jaw, as you explain what brought you to him tonight.  Tim’s hands splay across you back to pull you flush against his chest before one arm encircles your waist, the other traveling up your spine and finding its home at the nape of your neck.  He breathes in your soft perfume and melts into your tender embrace.  It’s hard for Tim to believe you’re not a figment of his imagination sometimes.  Your sweetness at having thought enough about him to come tonight is nearly enough to wash away the farce of the last four hours in the interrogation room.

As it always does, your gentle touch and sweet melodic whisper of ‘Baby’ in his ear are enough to remind Tim that whatever gives him grief at work is but temporary, you’re forever.  Any unwanted agitation that had clawed its way into his being tonight simply walks out of his body as you hold him and rub his back – police work induced tension and strain no match for your loving touch and considerate nature. 

Pulling away only a little, as much as Tim’s strong hold will allow, you search his exhaustion laden eyes, “Are you done now? Can you come home?”

Tim sags his head into the crook of your neck and mumbles, “Paperwork.”

Determined to right what you can of tonight’s wrongs, you run your fingers through Tim’s hair, tracing a circular pattern that has his shoulders relaxing and a soft groan escaping his throat, “Let me keep you company, Detective Rockford.”

Tim lets you guide him back to his office, trying not let his decidedly improved mood appear too evident lest he wants a ribbing from his fellow officers.  He’s not sure he succeeds, but finds that he doesn’t care too much – let them make fun, he thinks, they should all be so lucky to their own personal sunlight.

After Tim settles in at his desk, you lay out his dinner and close the door - folding yourself onto the couch opposite him and opening your book.  Admittedly, without the hum of the bullpen, Tim’s staccato rhythmed typing causes you to look up from your reading quite often, and you can’t help but admire the way his handsome face furrows in a look of concentration.  Goodness, he’s handsome, you muse, especially when he’s deeply embroiled in his police work.

But you start to frown when you notice that in his focus, Tim has barely touched his dinner.  And that’s how you find yourself sliding into his lap and sitting on one of Tim’s solid thighs; one arm resting over his shoulder with your book held up behind his head so you can read, the other arm hovering over Tim’s desk - fork in hand, periodically spearing food to feed your boyfriend.  Tim never objects, just opens up obediently when you hold forkful after forkful up to his mouth.  He wonders what his colleagues would think if they walked in to find big, bad Detective Rockford with a pretty thing in his lap, spoon feeding him his meal.  Again, he smiles to himself, he can’t find it in himself to worry what they may think or what damage it might do to his rough and tumble reputation – he has the attention and care of the most perfect woman all to himself.  He really couldn’t ask for anything more.

After dinner is done, you make to get up and clear the empty containers, but Tim wordlessly commands you to stay put with a firm squeeze of your waist and so you stay, continuing to read over his shoulder as Tim plugs away at his reports.

Eventually, your upper thighs burn from your position and when you shift your weight a little, you brush your knee against Tim’s crotch and find him already semi-hard.  Giggling, you decide since you’re staying for a while, you might as well make yourself comfortable.  Swinging your legs over Tim’s so that you straddle him, you wrap yourself around Tim like a koala and carry on reading your book with your chin hooked over the detective’s steady shoulder.

Tim continues to type, filling out his administrative forms – willfully ignoring the way your entire body shifts lightly every time you turn a page and ever so imperceptibly brushes your core over his growing bulge.  Except it’s not quite as imperceptible as it should be and soon Tim is rock hard from your movements.  That is very much perceptible to you.

“How’s the paperwork coming, Detective?” you tease.

“It’s coming,” Tim grits, “How’s the book going?”

“It’s going,” you grin.  In truth, you want him to finish his work sooner rather than later so you can go home; you’re starting to get tired.

“Tim, do you think I could take a little nap?” you ask, voice small.

Immediately, Tim’s attention turns to you, “Of course, baby.  You know, you don’t have to stay.  It’s already late and I don’t know when I’ll be done.”

“It’s okay, I want to stay and keep you company,” you sigh as you do a big stretch, arching your back so that you lift your chest towards Tim’s face, causing him to groan when presented with your luscious breasts so close to his mouth.  Continuing to stretch out your tired limbs, you place your closed book on Tim’s desk and move like you’re about to climb off his lap, making sure to grind down on his hard cock before shimmying back towards Tim’s knees.

Then, to Tim’s surprise, instead of standing, you hold his eye with a mischievous glint in yours and undo his belt buckle and the front of his pants, “Shutterbug, what are you doing?”

Taking out Tim’s impressive length, you swirl the already seeping precum around the swollen head with your thumb before giving him a few ginger strokes with your delicate hands.  Tim closes his eyes and hums, thinking that your actions are meant to answer his question.

They’re not.

Never breaking eye contact, you climb back up Tim’s thighs and hover over his cock; reaching beneath your skirt to pull aside the gusset of your panties, you line him up with your entrance and silently sink down slowly on Tim’s dick.  All this you do without so much as looking down, so familiar with every inch of this man’s body and how it fits with yours.  Your pussy flutters as she stretches to accommodate him, thankfully already wet due to Tim’s mere presence for the last hour or so.  Much of it was from being pressed up against his hard muscles and breathing in his manly musk, but what never fails to turn you on is watching your brilliant detective boyfriend diligently and competently completing his work, executing his tasks with precision and care.  You take your time, partially because you’re relishing in this look of wonder on Tim’s face, but also, your tight walls burn slightly from accommodating him without much notice – though you’ve taken Tim’s cock more times than you can count, his size always manages to overwhelm you.

When you’re finally seated, you rewrap yourself around the detective, positioning yourself the way you were before but this time with his hard cock in your slick cunt, “I’m providing you with some motivation while I nap, Detective Rockford.” 

You kiss him slow and passionate but closed lipped, not wanting to rile him up too much, “Wake me when you’re done, Detective.”

Tim chuckles as you rest you head against his shoulder, and with the feel of your breath soft against his neck, he goes back to his paperwork.

You do manage to slip in and out of consciousness; never fully sleeping but lightly dozing. You can’t help it - you’re just so full and sated with Tim inside you. Here you feel so warm, small, and safe - so satisfied just being filled by this man whose goodness and devotion you can feel radiating under your skin. His dedication to his work and his oath to protect makes you cling to him even more, wanting to give yourself to him for his service.

Every so often, even through his consistent typing, Tim will twitch inside you, unleashing a fresh wave of arousal that drowns his cock.  Occasionally, you will shift a little as you snooze, causing his length to jump and your needy cunt will instinctively clench.  You moan softly in your semi-conscious state, wanting more but knowing at the same time that what you have is more than enough. You’re stretched and content, the solid wall of muscle that props you up and cradles you so delicately is filling you with so much awe and love that the coil beneath your belly starts to slowly tighten all on its own.

Very gradually, progress immeasurable, it bands around itself, twisting and spooling so insistently that you can no longer slip back in to sleep mode.  Softly you call to him, “Tim?”

“Mmhhmmm?”

“I’m going to come. May I come, baby?”

Tim smiles at you indulgently when he looks down to see your soft, pleading look, “As if I could ever deny you anything, Shutterbug. Go ahead now.”

He presses his lips to yours to muffle your mewling cry as you come at his permission; a low rumble of an orgasm that radiates to your fingertips and recoils back through your veins to its source in your core - over and over, wave after wave.  Mouth never leaving yours, Detective Tim Rockford greedily consumes your involuntary whimpers and swallows every moan that escapes your throat.  He strokes the back of your neck as you come down, entire body now limp and weak - pulling you closer still, Tim resumes his work.

Tim’s never enjoyed doing paperwork more.  And although there is a part of him, big and hard, that finds this arrangement to be untenable, there is another part of him that loves the closeness of holding you like this, tucked against him, safe; nothing outside of his office doors can touch you, cocooned here with the most mundane part of his unpredictable job.

And so, he happily types away, completing his reports and admin obligations at record breaking speed – you’re right, the warmth of you and the trickling mess where the two of you are connected make a great motivator. 

When he presses his final ‘Submit’ on his computer, Tim presses a soft kiss to your ear and you hum in contentment, “I’m done, Shutterbug.”

He feels your smile against his neck, “Good work, Detective.”

“Can I fuck you now, baby?”

Your smile widens against his skin and you nod.

Tim would have thought that having been buried deep in your cunt for the last hour, he would be bursting to fuck up into you, hard and fast – a release after this long stretch of stasis and even longer day of work.  But instead, he discovers that he only wants to extend this intimacy.  He rocks slowly against your wet pussy, hearing the squelch of your release as he moves.  You pull away from Tim’s neck to face him, rewarding him for a job well done with your soft smile and eyes filled with adoration; the sight nearly skyrockets Tim to the moon. 

His hands on your waist guide you where he needs you and you match his intention and pace; your small, downward bounces rhythmically meet every one of Tim’s thrusts with a well deserved pussy clench - slap, slap, slap.  Tim’s low growls vibrate his entire chest, and you feel it where your hands are splayed, absorbing them through your fingertips and muting them – these are your sounds, you assert possessively, no one can have them but you.

Though the pace doesn’t change, the intensity of your lovemaking does – every new drive into your cunt a little deeper, a little more hungry.  Tim’s mouth captures yours in a heady, passionate kiss – all tongue and suction; whining when Tim’s teeth bite down lovingly on your swollen bottom lip, you feel that burning heat that’s been simmering since you last came rise to a sudden boil.

“Tim, I’m going to come again,” you purr, your words and dreamy tone sending Tim right to the edge.

“Come with me, Shutterbug.”

Mouths clashing together a final time, you each drink from other as you fall over the cliff together: you, Tim’s deep basstone groans. Tim, your soprano aria of ecstasy. 

“I love you, baby,” he murmurs against your lips as his breathing starts to even.

“I love you more, Detective,” you grin as you push back Tim’s soft curls from his forehead with your still tingling fingers.

Packing up to head home, you giggle when you see the wet spot on the front of Tim’s pants, evidence of the pleasure you gave each other.  Pointing out that the two of you still have to cross the bullpen, you tease, “What you are going to say we were doing if someone notices?”

Again, Tim realizes he doesn’t much care if his colleagues are privy to just how in deep he is for you; pulling you close by the waist and fitting you against his side as you walk out of his office, he chuckles into your hair and answers honestly, “Paperwork.”

[g1rld1ary]

do i make you nervous? - elle greenaway x fem!reader

cw: she/her pronouns, typical cm violence, petnames

wc: 1115

being stuck in a police station for six hours was not on your bingo card for the day. to be fair, it wasn't really on the bingo card for your year either. you were a good girl, you never broke the rules, you certainly didn't break the law. so, you'd never pictured yourself needing to be trapped under fluorescent lights waiting to talk to police officers, except for your bad luck in being caught in an almost violent bank hold-up.

not only that, of the many witnesses you were probably last in line, having to wait through hours of people going in and out of the tiny interview room. most of them left in tears, which really wasn't helping your nerves.

you'd resigned to your daydreams to pass the time; you'd finished the book from your purse hours ago and you could only play snake for so long. that was why you jumped violently when a hand lay on your shoulder, ripping you from your daydream. above you, the prettiest woman you'd ever seen was trying to hold back a laugh.

"i didn't mean to scare you," she said, and you found yourself smiling back at her. "just wanted to check if you wanted some water, pretty girl." sure enough she had offered a plastic cup toward you. you stared at it for a second before remembering your manners.

"oh! thanks, that's really nice of you." the woman shook her head.

"least we could do after keeping you here for so long. you come get me if you need anything else." you managed to nod and produce what you hoped was a smile despite your daze at the gorgeous woman.

you only waited for twenty more minutes after that before a man came out to get you.

"i'm derek morgan, special agent in the FBI. we just want to ask you some questions. i know the interrogation room looks scary, but we promise you're not in trouble. we just have to take what we can get in a precinct this small."

"i don't think anyone anticipated having this many witnesses in at once," you added, finding it much easier to talk to derek than the woman before. you didn't want to think about why that was.

it was straight to business once in the interrogation room. it was cold, like all the life had been sucked out of it. if you weren't already scared of the law you would have gone straight to avoid needing to return.

inside the room was the woman from before. you sucked in a nervous breath as you sat across from her, trying to split your looks evenly between her and morgan.

the woman finally introduced herself as ssa elle greenaway, and shook your hand in a way that had you weak in the knees. after the basic formalities, the two started asking you questions.

"alright, we'll start easy and warm you up to it. why were you at the bank this morning?"

"i'm moving into my first apartment in a few weeks. i lived on campus all of college and then stayed with my parents for a year or two as i was getting my career started. because i have no history of renting i had to sort out some papers and records with the bank and lucky me i chose today." both the agents made noises of sympathy.

"congratulations on moving out," elle said warmly, "too bad it's delayed by some maniac. do you remember seeing him walk in?"

you recounted the day in as much detail as you could remember, staring at your hands as you spoke. you were so anxious. all you could feel were eyes; morgan, elle, and you didn't know how many people could be observing you from behind the mirror. that, plus the trauma of being threatened with a gun hours before caught up to you all at once and you couldn't help the hot tears sitting on your waterline. both agents stopped at that, giving you a breather.

"morgan, think you can give us a minute?" elle said, not taking her eyes off of you. derek raised an eyebrow but agreed nonetheless, leaving the two of you alone.

elle grabbed your hands, holding them in hers over the table between you.

"let's slow down, just breathe, pretty girl." she forced you into silence for a few moments and you let your breathing fall into sync with hers.

"sorry," you said when you were mostly calm, "i'm really nervous."

"you've got nothing to be nervous about, baby, you haven't done anything wrong." god, you wanted to combust. this stunning woman was being so nice, holding your hands and calling you pet names, you couldn't handle it. she must have noticed your eyes trained on where you hands met -- unsurprising, you weren't being subtle -- and her soft expression turned into something of a smirk. "do i make you nervous?"

you nodded, almost imperceptibly, but elle's eyes were only on you. she couldn't contain her amusement, and you couldn't tell if you were offended that she was teasing you.

the rest of the interview was easier after elle knew the effect she had on you, eventually leaving derek as the sole agent when it got down to the facts you really needed to think about. although you knew it was necessary for the sake of the case, you were upset it meant you couldn't admire her more.

"we'll call you if we need anything else." derek walked you to the door, all smiles. you thanked him and assured him you'd be willing to give whatever the FBI needed.

just as you were descending the outdoor steps to the car park, you heard a heavy set of footsteps behind you. turning quickly, you were relieved to see elle following you. you gripped the strap of your purse nervously as you waited for her to speak.

"if you think of anything else, anything else you wanted to tell me, just reach out," she said, handing you a card. just as you opened your mouth to thank her she spoke again, "maybe you can start with where you got your jeans, your ass is irresistible." you could feel your flush hot on your cheeks as you mumbled some sort of goodbye, all but running to your car to scream.

safely at home, you could think more clearly, not hesitating to start composing a text message, including the brand of your jeans with a cheeky smiley face.

[last-herondale]

Almost

Bucky Barnes x FemReader!

Angst, heartbreak, longing, unrequited love

Hello! It’s been a while, but here is my Bucky fic that I promised from my poll!

The night air was cool and crisp against your skin. The wind was blowing slightly, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to cause stray pieces of your hair to swirl into the night as you leaned on the balcony of the Avenger’s tower. You could hear the music from the party inside, its rhythmic beat softly booming from within. It was Steve’s birthday party and it was a lively event that you, Nat, Sam, Bucky, and surprisingly Tony, had spent weeks planning. The guardians had flown in for the occasion, as well as Carol and Thor, who had Loki in tow with him. The night started off simple enough with a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant. It was just Steve, Bucky, Nat, Sam, and yourself at dinner while Tony was busy finishing the party preparations with Bruce.

You had wondered if dinner would be awkward at all. It had been 10 months since Bucky and Nat had broken up, and it had been a strenuous ordeal for the whole team. Nat had broken it off with Bucky, for personal reasons she had told you in confidence. You knew they had had problems during their relationship, problems mostly stemming from their mutual inability to be there for each other emotionally. It was a tough reality to face, for both of them. You often felt like the bridge between the two of them, being the one that both parties were able to confide in. It was hard to be impartial to either side.

On one hand, Natasha was your best friend. She had been ever since you joined the team. She had been dating Bucky when you first joined the team, and your friendship only seemed to strengthen once they broke up. You loved Nat, and treasured her friendship more than anything in the world. You were very surprised when she told you that she started seeing Bruce Banner a few months ago. Even though Bruce seemed like the opposite of Bucky, in all accounts she seemed very happy with him. And you were happy that she was happy…

But on the other hand, there was Bucky. He had been devastated by the breakup. He had wanted nothing more than to drown away his sorrows in booze and fill his nights with endless distractions. You had been very surprised when he had called you one night, asking if you wanted to hang out with him and Steve. Nat had been out with Banner that night, and the tower felt lonelier than usual, so you agreed.

The three of you had spent the night drinking and playing darts. It had been a fun night of laughter and jokes. You were almost glad to see Bucky as he once was, happy and carefree, but as the night wore on, and Steve tapped out around 4 am, it was just the two of you left at the bar. The two of you just sat at the bar, sipping the last of your drinks when you asked him how he was doing.

His facade had slipped away, the smile he had forced all night was gone, and instead he put his head down and let out violent sobs of anguish. “I miss her, god, she was…everything.”

It broke your heart to see him so miserable. You never knew he was in such a poor state. It had been 7 months since they had broken up at that point, and as far as you or Nat knew, he hadn’t seemed like he was upset about it. Why he decided to be so open in front of you… you couldn’t understand. But you comforted him, as best as you could. You stayed with him all night, agreed to take a walk with him and let him vent to you until the sun came up. When he finally passed out on your couch at the avengers tower, he woke up hours later and left without a word.

You thought that was the end of it. That it was just one drunk night that had him so emotional, but then he called again. And again. And again. Hanging out with Bucky started to become a normal part of your routine. Half of the time it was always with Steve, the three of you hanging out. But then Bucky would want to hang out with just you. Mostly you both would talk, sometimes drink, sometimes watch a movie or even sing some karaoke once the liquor started to hit. It was…nice.

You had made sure it was okay with Nat, of course. Asking her if she was bothered by you hanging out with her ex, but Nat seemed undisturbed.

“It seems like he needs a friend, and I know I haven’t been around for you a lot lately either. I’m okay with this, really. Whatever it is— and whatever it becomes.”

Despite your many assurances that nothing was going to happen between you and Bucky, Nat just brushed it off and teased you further about it. She was in a really good place with Banner and she seemed genuinely thrilled with the idea of you and Bucky becoming an item.

The idea had crossed your mind a time or two. Mostly when you were very intoxicated and alone with Bucky. It was hard not to be drawn in by the beauty of him. You’ve caught yourself staring at his arms when he was throwing darts more times than you’d care to admit, and whenever he would throw his arm around you in a fit of laughter, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach flutter.

Getting to know him on a deeper level made the idea of not wanting him even harder to deny. He was still very much hung up on Nat, that was clear, but whenever he let himself be vulnerable and he talked about his past and the things that haunted him, you couldn’t help but feel connected to him in a way that you hadn’t felt with others. Everything about him seemed to be drawing you in. It was a maddening cycle trying to stop yourself from catching feelings, but it was one you fought for the longest time.

Until tonight. The party had been the biggest eye opener to you since you started being friends with Bucky. Dinner was not an awkward affair, much to your surprise. Nat and Bucky were cordial with each other at the dinner table, even sharing a few laughs as you sat between them.

“How have you been James?” Nat asked. Bucky gave her a small smile. “I’ve been alright. I heard about you and Banner, congrats by the way.” Banner had proposed to Nat a few weeks ago. To your surprise Bucky had taken it rather well.

“Thank you, we are very happy,” Nat beamed. She gave you a quick glance and smiled. “Have you seen anyone Buck?” You opened your mouth to protest to Nat, but Bucky just laughed.

“I have been talking to someone for a little while now.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. This was the first you had heard of this. You kept a steady grin on your face as he continued talking. You thought you saw Nat flash you a Quick Look, but it was so fast you could have thought you had imagined it.

“Well, that’s awesome. I’m happy for you Buck,” Natasha smiled.

“Yeah, we’ve only been on a few dates but so far it’s been going well.”

The rest of the dinner felt like a strange blur. You remember sitting there, you remember eating, and you remember getting into the car to head back to the tower where the surprise party was, but any other detail of the night faded away into nothing.

Why did it bother you so much? You had no right to lay claim to all of Bucky’s attention. The two of you were friends, and nothing more. You had set that boundary yourself, for yourself to stop yourself from getting hurt. But then again, you had never gotten as close to anyone as you had with Bucky. There had been people in the past, those you thought had the potential to hold your heart, but nothing ever worked out with them.

When the party returned to the tower, an uneasiness settled deep into your stomach as people began to arrive. You tried your best to distract yourself with trivial tasks such as handing out drinks, messing with decorations, or just following Sam around and letting him talk your ear off. But as the party grew, so did the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

Who was this girl? Would she be here tonight? Would you be able to handle it if she was?

As these thoughts were swirling around your head, you decided that maybe it was time to talk to Nat about your feelings. You searched around wildly for any sign of her or Banner but came up empty. You saw Bucky momentarily, he was talking with Steve and your eyes met for a single moment but you quickly looked away. You needed air.

So, that’s when you stepped out of the party and had been hiding ever since. You sent a text to Nat to meet you outside whenever she could. You stood there a bit, swirling the drink in your hand and enjoying the breeze on your flushed cheeks. You heard the sliding door open and you turned expecting to see Nat.

“I need to talk to— oh, hey,” you caught yourself and pitched your voice higher as Bucky closed the door behind him.

“Hey, doll,” He said, his usual playful tone was a bit strained, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, a bit too quickly, “I, uh, just needed some air.”

You moved a bit from your spot as he came to stand beside you. The smell of his cologne hit your nose as he sidled up next to you on the balcony, the leather of his jacket brushing against your arm momentarily. Your chest felt like it was contracting, being so close to him. As if the proximity alone was enough to unravel your whole being.

“How are you enjoying the party?” You choke out, refusing to look him in the eye, focusing instead on the city skyline below.

“It’s fine,” he began cautiously. It seemed, “It would be better if you would talk to me though.”

Your back stiffened at his words. You said nothing and yet he continued. “You’ve hardly said a word since dinner and we both know that isn’t normal. You didn’t even laugh when Sam made fun of Banner’s bowtie in the car.”

“Yes I did,” you said weakly.

“If you’re gonna lie to me, can you at least look me in the eyes?”

It was the brokenness in Bucky’s voice that made you turn to face him finally. His eyes were searching yours, trying to read every detail from your face. You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

“Please, just tell me what’s wrong,” he begged quietly.

You opened your mouth, wanting to answer him, wanting to take away his discomfort at this moment, but the aching of your heart prevented words from coming out.

A choked out noise came from your lips just as the sliding door opened.

“—and I told him, I said—- oh hey!” Scott Lang said in a slur of words, having some unfamiliar guy in tow behind him.

“This are my buddies! Barnes and—“

“Leave Lang. Now.” Bucky said with icy venom.

You didn’t have to look to know that Bucky’s cold tone was enough to do the job as the door slammed shut again.

You wished you could follow Scott out of the situation, but you couldn’t. You took a deep breath, summoned your courage, and downed your drink in one fell swoop.

You shut your eyes right and clenched your jaw a moment as the liquor burned down your throat.

“I’m in love with you.”

The silence that followed there after was deafening. You opened your eyes and looked at Bucky. His expression was soft, his eyes a bit wide with the information, but there wasn’t any hint of anger or disgust.

“I…” he began, “I don’t deserve that.”

His eyes finally looked away from you, as if it was his turn to be embarrassed. His turn to feel ashamed.

“Look, you’ve been everything to me lately. You’ve put up with me when other people wouldn’t— when other people haven’t. You’ve cared for me, truly cared… and it’s lit a fire in my soul again. A fire I thought would forever be extinguished when Nat—- when we broke up.”

His eyes flickered towards you for a moment here and there. You held a steady gaze out towards the balcony, letting his words sink in as you felt your heart shudder at each word.

“I owe you more than I could ever pay back, and that’s why I know— I know I don’t deserve you.”

Suddenly your felt his bare fingers under your chin, his hand gently tilting you gaze to him. Tears fell down silently and touched his hand.

“Listen to me, okay, please,” he begged, his voice catching slightly, “I love you. Okay? I love you, I do. But you deserve more than me. You deserve someone whole, someone who has all the love you give them in turn equally back to you, and then some. I want what’s best for you, and I know deep down that I am not that.”

You did everything in your power to not turn into a whimpering mess, you held his gaze, ignoring the tears. You took a ragged breath and moved your chin enough for him to drop his hand.

“Tell me about her.”

Bucky sighed and put his hands in his pocket.

“She’s nice. Has her own issues, but she’s more like me. Broken like me.”

You nodded, wiping at your face in vain. The tears kept coming, even if you didn’t feel sad. Even though you were pissed.

“I’m happy for you,” you said as happily as possible. You took a step towards the door but he moved in front of you, gently placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Wait, please.”

You didn’t fight him. You met his gaze in defiance and you swore you could have seen a smile creep on his lips.

“There she is,” he murmured.

You couldn’t help but smile a bit at him. Even though a million emotions were running through your mind at the moment, the idea staying mad with him never stuck for long. Even now.

“I need you to know how much I care about you. I need you to understand that. If you hate me for it afterward then I can live with it,” you opened your mouth to tell him you could never hate him but he kept going as if to purposefully stop you.

“I would still be in a very dark place if it wasn’t for you. I value your life significantly more than mine. I would die for you, I would kill for you. You are everything to me and more and I am so honored to be loved by you. I treasure you, I adore you, but I am no good for you. Please understand that. You deserve so much more than I have to offer. And I would hate myself if I broke your heart. And I would. I already have. And I hate myself.”

Suprisingling the tears stopped. You looked at Bucky and studied his face. He was sincere. He was broken, that you already knew. He had more ghosts than anyone else could ever imagine, and past that haunted him daily. But he was Bucky. And he was kind and he was gentle, and he was fierce and loyal.

And you loved him.

That feeling would not easily go away, no matter how much Bucky might wish for it to. But you decided then that you would hold onto that feeling for now. Even though he warned you, had told you he did not want anything further. It would be harsh. It would be devastating. It would be soul crushing.

But it would be yours.

“I think I need some time.”

That was all you said further. His hands dropped from your shoulders and you walked back into the fray of the party. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked through the lobby. People were dancing and drinking and laughing and having a blast. You walked past them all, not paying them any mind. Nat found you, tried to talk to you but you just brushed her off as you found the elevator.

You held yourself straight. Composed. Even when the door to the elevator closed and you were alone. Even when you walked down your corridor and found your way into your dark apartment. It wasn’t until you changed from your party clothes into your sleepwear, curled up in your bed, alone in the dark, that you began to cry.

[auroreliis]

Batfam would have to do research on my special interests if they want to win me over fast but also the thought of super serious Bruce and Damian watching/reading jojos bizarre adventure is really funny to me

Absolutely they would. For you, they would binge every show, play every game and read every paragraph of a book just to have something in common with you. They would all do it for different reasons, but in the end, you would have to listen to them outnerd you.

Bruce's regard for your interests is wholesome. He genuinely wants to know what makes you happy, what you do in your free time, what you could talk about for hours. In order to be able to listen to you talk for hours, he surrounds himself with your interests. You like this artist? He buys a few of their most popular albums. This game is entertaining to you? He either tries it out or watches you play it. There's this film you're excited about? He watches it with you.

Although most of your interests are different, he does actually find himself enjoying anything you enjoy. Perhaps it reminds him of you.

Dick has this one fear. He believes that no matter how persistent he is, if you aren't reciprocating his clinginess, the two of you will grow apart eventually, so he never leaves you alone, even when you beg him to. It isn't really a secret, as he makes it quite obvious, but he hopes you will one day embrace him as he embraces you. You probably get sick of him and tell him how boring he is, which shatters his heart completely.

Now he has to figure out a way to spend time with you, but he needs to make sure you are also enjoying his company, lest you hurt him with your cruelty once more, so he researches every last fact about your interests, be it an activity, a game, a book, a person, he knows everything about it. Dick doesn't want to make it obvious that he only found out this information the night prior, so he cautiously needs to start a conversation.

He most likely waits until you are occupied with your interest before walking up to you, "Hey, is that _____? Wow, I used to be obsessed with it as a kid, I'm suprised you even know it, it isn't that popular and it's quite old." He pats your head and sits down next to you, grinning as you start rambling about it to him. You are actually talking to him. It worked.

Jason is careful when sharing his interests with you. He needs to preserve his reputation as your cool older brother and usually people don't share his interests, so when he finds you reading a classic book, he seats himself nearby, waiting for you to finish reading. Once you're done, he makes sure you enjoyed the book before fanboying about it. You immediately notice how much of a nerd he is. He also recommends similar books or ones he thinks you would enjoy as well. In the end he pulls you into so many fandoms that you stop listening when he recommends books. You've already got like 40 more to read.

Tim does not have this problem. The moment he knew you existed, he educated himself and has kept up with your interests ever since. "Just in case", or ,"Just because", he said, typing a summary of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. "I might as well", he takes notes while binging One Piece. This guy is clinically insane. Fortunately for him, he can now start conversations with you very easily, since he knows everything about your interests (and everything else about you).

Side note: If you refuse to spend time with him even after he did all that for you, the following outcomes are possible:

Either you pity him and spend time with him or Dick tries and fails to guilt trip you, only to end up forcing you to spend time with poor Tim who was awake for a whole week just to impress you (Tim frantically nods along with anything Dick says).

Damian takes great pride in having things in common with you, so as soon as he notices you being fond of something, he surrounds himself with it. You have a favourite colour? He creates a few painting with specifically that colour. You like a certain animal? He will try to adopt one. Damian would, of course, never admit it to you, but he desperately wants you to notice that you two have similar interests (As in, you have an interest and he pretends to also like it just so you maybe talk to him).

If you don't talk to him, he will become more aggressive with his attempts of having you notice him, perhaps randomly coming into your room to paint, claiming that the lighting there is better. Or he asks Bruce to adopt a certain animal during dinner. His attempts are obvious to you, but he doesn't know that.

Cassandra wouldn't really need to share interests with you. She's always close to you anyway. While she does speak to you every now and then, she is perfectly comfortable with sitting in your proximity in silence. However, if you ever asked her to, she would research anything you need her to in order to rant or ramble to her. As long as she has her eyes on you, anything is fine.

Stephanie immediately goes to Tim for help, knowing that he went insane and made a bunch of summaries and notes. First, she makes fun of him, then she apologises, because he threatened to take the notes away, she then complains about how much there is to read before finishing the essays Tim wrote, giving herself about a week. Steph then talks to you as if she didn't go through all that trouble just to have a topic to talk to you about.

Dick told Barbara all about his shenanigans. She even helped him figure out what you're interested in, even researching about it herself. She isn't as intrusive as the others, instead waiting until the moment is right, not wanting to scare you away or overwhelm you. Perhaps if you're alone, she'll come up to you and start with small talk, only really mentioning your special interest if it's involved somehow. Overall, she is the least feral of the bunch (in this situation, at least).

[grippingbeskar]

strip poker

matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content 18+ minors dni (mxf, dirty talk, honestly kind of tame if i’m honest) swearing, gambling?? idk it’s literally the title

a/n: i have been getting a few messages to write more matt so HERE IS ME FULFILLING THAT REQUEST! i’m so glad you guys liked the first one! hope you enjoy! also this gif is how i imagine him looking for the whole first part. fuxk he’s so hot anyways.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. How is that even possible?” You shout, nearly spilling your beer on the already sticky table at Josie’s. You’d been playing poker in the shitty little set up at the back, a bunch of screwed up twenty dollar bills half heartedly thrown in as Matthew Murdock won yet another round.

“It’s unfair, really. Gets the looks and the brains. He either folds right away, or wins the whole game.” Foggy shakes his head, shoving Matt on the shoulder. “I lost a lotta money to this guy in college.”

“Yet you still play him.” Karen chucks her cards in the centre, watching Foggy re-shuffle the deck while Matt takes his winnings, shrugging.

“I didn’t say I learnt from it.”

“But how does that even…work? Because, you’re—well, you know…” You lean back, trying not to think about Matt’s attention, and how it had been on you the whole night. Especially now, as his fingers card through the new wad of cash in his hands, almost like he’s doing it just for you.

“Blind?” He smiles, and you make a noise of agreement while finishing off your beer. “I’m just very good at reading people.”

“Oh, I get it. You cheat, don’t you? Feel the fibres in the cards or whatever.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

“Feel the fibres?”

“Okay— well, it’s something like that, though. Isn’t it?” Even Foggy was interested now, snatching the deck that was now in the centre of the table. Matt shrugs again, hanging one arm around the empty chair next to him.

“I don’t cheat. Most people give away their hand as soon as they open their mouth. You just have to know the tell. Poker is just a waiting game.” He says it casually like winning every single poker game he’s ever played is the simplest thing in the world. “Plus, like you said. It’s not like I can look over your shoulder, can I? How would I cheat?”

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it fails, because I need to start paying off this tab if Josie’s gonna serve us anymore.” Foggy deals out the cards, and you watch Matt intently. He never even picks up his cards, just sits there with one hand wrapped around his beer, head turned in your direction. “Alright, Karen?”

“I’m out. I’m running out of money.” Foggy boo’s, and she laughs, sliding off her chair. “Maybe if my boss’ paid me more, I’d be in.”

“Okay, ouch.” Foggy pouts, but deals your cards, skipping over Karen’s empty seat. “Matthew, you start.”

“I’m in.” He smirks, his free hand lightly tracing around the edges of his face-down cards. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

“In.” You look at Foggy, and he sighs, pushing in his money as well.

“Last round. I’m all in.” All in doesn’t mean a lot to Foggy considering he’d only had about two chips and a one dollar bill left, but you and Matt still had a fair amount. Both of you match his bet, and he flips over another card. “Well, fuck.”

“See? Everyone’s got a tell.” Matt laughs and you roll your eyes. Foggy chucks his cards in the centre.

“Anyone could tell Foggy was gonna lose.”

“Hey! I had a fair chance about an hour ago.” Leaving both you and Matt laughing, he turns to go find Karen. “You two kids get home safe, okay?”

“I’ll look after her.” He says, his head still angled towards you. Your grip on the cards in your hand gets a little tighter, and he taps his finger on the table, asking you to flip another card. “Come on. You aren’t giving up yet, are you?”

“Definitely not.” You flip the last card, and it’s a King. The one you were looking for— you had a full house. A strong hand, but you didn’t want to give yourself away. You say nothing, remembering what Matt said earlier, and he smiles after a beat of silence.

“You aren’t talking to me now?” He teases, leaning over the table on his forearms to get a little closer to you. He smells like beer and cedar— a strange combination, but somehow intoxicating on him. “You know I’m gonna beat you anyways. No point in getting all quiet on me.”

“Shut up and make your bet, Murdock.” He’s still got that smirk on his face, the one that says he’s going to beat you before you’ve even put your cards down, and he matches your bet, sliding a few bills into the centre. “Showoff.”

“Just trying to impress you.” He was making it increasingly hard to keep a poker face, and you know he couldn’t see you but somehow it felt like he could see straight through you, like he knew how every one of his sweet words ate away at that feeble resistance you’d built up to try and keep him out. “You can fold if you need to. I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“Does this whole act usually work for you? The girls eat this shit up, don’t they?” He shrugs, leaning back and leaving his still turned down cards on the table.

“Most of the time.” You push in double the amount of money he bet, and somehow he knows exactly how many, because before you’d even sat back he was matching the bet, smiling sweetly at you.

“How?!”

“How what?”

“How do you know you’ll win?” You lean forward and he moves too, mirroring you and nearly meeting your hands in the centre of the small table.

“I can’t give away all my secrets.” You roll your eyes and lay your cards face up on the table. He doesn’t so much as flinch, both your bodies still leaning towards each other.

This part of the bar was quiet and secluded, and you swear if you angled yourself just right no one would even be able to see you from here. The thought drove your brain to a whole lot of dirty thoughts you had been trying your best not to have about your literal boss, and you physically shook them away. When he spoke again, you had to squint to focus.

“Wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“Oh, piss off. Let’s see what you have.” You deflect, holding out hope you could still make something of this game. Still smirking, he keeps his head angled towards you, reaching over and sliding his cards to you. You’re hesitant to take them, and he knows it.

“Help a guy out?” He reaches out to the wrong spot on the table, a clear ploy to get you to flip them for him. He was delaying this— dragging it out because it was fun to him, and as much as it sucked you were losing money, you’d probably empty your wallet if it kept him this close to you.

“I’m not falling for your helpless act. I’ve seen you in a court room.”

“Indulge me.” Deciding not to delay the process any longer, you flip them all over in one go.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” A royal-fucking-flush.

“What is it?” He says smiling, keeping as close to you as possible.

“A— you know what? I’m not even going to tell you.” He breathes out a laugh, leaning back finally, and it’s only when he’s sitting in his chair again that you manage to get your head screwed back on straight. “Now I’m really out of money.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Happens to the best of them.” You scoff. That’s the second time he’s called you that, and it seems to make you fidget in your seat more every time.

“Just means you have to cover the tab.”

“Don’t pout.” Instantly you steeled your face, and just as you were about to ask him exactly how he knew, he spoke again. “I tell you what— you want your money back, we can play a new game. All or nothing.”

“I feel like this is a trap.” He laughed, the sound drawing you in like some kind of siren song. You leaned forward again, reaching out for your money on the table, but he was faster, his own enveloping yours. His hands were rough and large, and you couldn’t peel your eyes away from how you practically disappeared underneath him.

“It’s not a game we can play here, though.” You swallow hard. You’d always flirted with Matt— it was easy, and honestly the best part of your day was seeing that playful smile, or even when his ears got a little pink when you got particularly close to whisper something about a case.

But this? He’s talking about leave a bar with him. On a Saturday night. To play a game. You chugged the rest of your beer, needing the liquid courage.

“Alright, Matthew. I’ll indulge you. What kind of game are you talking about?”

“Poker.” Laughing, you watch as he gets up from his chair and grabs his jacket, already resigned to the idea you were both leaving. Now.

“We are playing poker.”

“It’s not that kind of poker.” He’s right next to you now, edged between you and the chair cemented to the floor next to you. He was so close you had no choice but to lean into him, not that you could think of anything else you’d rather be doing.

“Not that kind of poker?” You say softly, and he hums. The sound vibrates through his chest, and you resist the urge to flutter your eyes close and just listen to him talk. Something about his voice has you floating on air, and it’s part of the reason he’s so hard to resist. He just never stops talking.

You jump slightly when you feel his hand brush against your shoulder. You were wearing a silk dress that hung off your shoulder, so he took his time, grazing along your soft skin. His fingers carded through your hair lightly, and to top it off, he brushed the hair back, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck, tilting your face upwards gently.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were suggesting something unprofessional, Mr. Murdock.” His face splits into another smile, but his hand drops from your skin. Instantly you feel colder without his touch.

“You tell me to go to Hell right now and I will. No hard feelings. You’re a good lawyer, and I won’t mess this up for you.” Now you understand why he stopped touching you. Matthew Murdock— self professed people reader, was unsure if he’d read this situation right. The thought occurred to you once to fuck with him a little, but when you looked up at him and saw how tight his jaw was, you melted a little. That tiny wall of resistance you’d built up was crumpled from the inside.

“And if I say I’m interested in this little game?”

“Then I’d say I’ll meet you outside. Balls in your court, princess.” He presses a light kiss to your cheek, and you nearly get dizzy from the gesture if you hadn’t seen him grab your money as well as his off the table before he disappears into the crowd.

You call after him, but all you get is a shrug and a laugh that is unmistakably his as he disappears into the crowd. You don’t move for a second— your heart screaming at you to get on your feet and follow him, but a small, stupid part of your brain tells you to not. He was your boss, after all, and you needed this job, but it was also Matt.

You knew he was a little bit of a lady killer— Karen and Foggy making a thousand jokes at his expense which he managed to laugh off. Even with clients he always managed to win the girls over with his charm, but as much as people talk about it, ever since you came around you haven’t seen him so much as flirt for more than a few minutes with anyone but you. Sure, you weren’t with him every second of every day, but between the late nights and weekends spent in his office to getting lunch and sometimes dinner on your days off, even Foggy had made a few passing comments about how he’d staved off women.

You didn’t have a leg to stand on to get jealous even if he did— but it made your heart stutter in his chest to think you had something to do with it. He was always showing up with an extra coffee for you, walking you home if you had to stay late, paying you endless compliments… and the way he spoke to you, teasing but never cruel, always making you laugh even when you hadn’t slept for 24 hours.

Really— your decision on whether to follow him out was made months ago when you first met him. The moment you saw that stupid smile and the first time he said your name; you nearly took the chair with you with how quick you jumped up to find him outside the bar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’ve never been to your place before.” You listen to the sound of Matt pouring you a glass of wine as you hang your head off the back of his couch. You have to squint to block out the streaming colour of light that shines through the giant windows; hues of pink and blue billboard warped from the rain that was coming down outside.

“It’s an acquired taste.” He taps your leg and you shift to sit up, him sitting close next to you handing you a glass. “You like red, right?”

“I drink anything as long as it’s free.”

“This one’s on me.” You laugh into your glass, taking a long sip and enjoying the burn that comes with it. It tastes expensive, and you expect nothing less from him. He’s facing you, one arm lazily hanging behind you on the couch, and your heart is racing even without the wine.

“So, did you really invite me up here for a game of poker, or was that just a ploy to get in my pants?” His laugh fills the quiet apartment, and he leans forward to pull out a drawer, his hand reappearing with a deck of cards.

“I never say no to a pretty girl in my apartment, but if you want your money back, you’re going to have to play me for it.” You snatch the cards from him, shuffling them dramatically.

“And tell me why, exactly, we couldn’t play this all important game in the bar?” You watch him carefully, how you always do when your alone, and you see his tell tale sign. The slightest hint of red on his cheeks, just at your question. “Matthew?”

“You’re out of money, but we’re still playing poker. What do you think we’re betting?” Now you were the one blushing.

“So this really was a ploy to get in my pants.” You try to sound nonchalant, confident like he always manages to come across as, but your voice shakes a little at the end of your sentence, and you were still shuffling the cards even though they were way past ready. You quickly put them on the table and down the rest of your wine.

“Can you blame me?” He asks lowly, and you cross your legs, ignoring the heat that grows in your stomach. “Listen, you know I love these games we play, but I don’t want you to—“

“If you’re bitching out now, I can take the money in credit or cheque, too.” He stops talking, mouth open a little, and scoffs out a laugh. The last thing you wanted him to do was think you weren’t a hundred and ten percent here for whatever he wanted to do with you. To you. Shit— that wine was going straight to your head.

“Alright, you asked for it. I was gonna go easy on you, but…”He sighs and shakes his head, and you roll your eyes, dealing the cards.

“Sure you were. Pick up the cards this time.” You all but shove them in his hands, and he takes his time pulling away from you, smiling like he could feel your pulse through the small touch and knew how much he affected you.

Looking at your cards, you tried to see a way to win with what was on the table. You had nothing, really, but he didn’t know that, and you still had a chance. Besides, if he wanted to play that kind of poker, you were positive you wouldn’t have to rely on the cards to distract him. If you could keep your thoughts under control.

“It’s a real shame you aren’t going to win, you know.” You bait him, and his head tilts up from where he was pretending to be looking at his cards.

“And why is that?” You shift in your seat at his voice. Again.

“Well, I dressed up all pretty for tonight.” You flip over the next card on the table, and suck in a breath. “And it’s just a shame you won’t get to experience that.”

“You know the point of this game isn’t to keep your clothes on. No matter how pretty you are in that dress.” He flips over the final card, and you bite down on your lower lip. You have nothing. Nada.

“Exactly, but the best part of my outfit isn’t the dress. It’s what I’m wearing underneath.” His eyes close, and you watch as he sighs and lets his head fall back.

“Can’t believe I was going to take it easy on you, sweet thing.” You can’t stop the grin on your face as he looks up at you like he’s in legitimate pain. “Play your cards.”

“Ohh, so serious now!” He manages a small ‘hm’ and although you were joking, he doesn’t seem so playful anymore. The look on his face was more akin to what he was like in court— focused and ready to win at all costs. “Don’t pout.”

“You’re bluffing, aren’t you?” He says, and you feel his hand on your opposite shoulder, the arm laying around the back of your couch sneaking closer while you were distracted. You shuffle slightly closer, allowing him the space.

“I thought you knew everyone’s tells.”

“You’re a little harder to read than most, I’ll admit it.” You make a noise in surprise, but he just shakes his head. “That doesn’t mean I won’t take you apart just as easily.”

“Guess you’ll have to play your cards to find out. Unless you want to fold?” He laughs, breaking up the tension just a little, and while you two were inches away from each other, he tosses his cards half heartedly onto the table, face up.

“How’d I do?” He leans closer, taking the extra space when you turn your head. You feel every word he speaks on your skin, lips not even an inch away from being on you. You could hardly keep your eyes open, let alone focus on the cards.

“I think you win this round.” You manage, shakily exhaling as you practically feel his smile on your neck. The hand that was around the back of the couch leaves you completely, while the other slowly creeps up the bare skin of your arm, making you shiver. “Th-three sixes against a four of a kind.”

“Hmm. Unlucky.” Shallow breaths were the only ones you could take with him this close. Gentle fingers find the soft material of the strap of your dress, hooking under it loosely. You told yourself you didn’t wear this dress for him— but you knew how it would feel. Silky and smooth against your skin, if he couldn’t see how good you looked in this dress, he would damn well feel it.

He slowly drops the strap down your shoulder, then the other hand encourages the other side down. You use your arms to keep the dress up, making him work for it a little, but as soon as he tugs lightly at the hem you let the dress fall over your breasts.

Matt’s hands feel the lace of your bra, lingering a little longer than he had to. Then he flattens his palms on either side of your rib cage, pulling the dress lower. He feels every curve and ridge on your body, and you can’t take your eyes off his face. He was enamoured— completely lost in the feeling, so much so that his eyes were shut tightly, even the light was taking too much away from the sensation.

“Matt, hurry u—“

“Shh. Let me enjoy my prize.” He finally leans closer, a soft kiss to your collarbone nearly melting you into the couch.

His hands reach your hip, and then get a little more aggressive, fisting the soft material and pulling rather than guiding. You shimmy your hips and let him drag it down your thighs. He seems reluctant to move past the faint excuse for underwear you were wearing, but eventually the dress falls to the floor, and he sighs.

“You were right.”

“About what?” His hand catches your chin, thumb pressing on your bottom lip lightly.

“You are even prettier like this.” Your knuckles were going white with how hard they were trying to stay at your sides, but now you were half naked, and he hadn’t so much as taken his jacket off.

“You think so?”

“I fucking know so. And these—“ The hand on holding your face to his is still on your hip, and one finger hooks under the lace. “—these for me?”

“You haven’t won that yet.” He presses his forehead to yours and groans, and then leans back, but doesn’t go too far. “Your turn to deal.”

“Fine.” He frowns like a little kid who just got told he can’t have ice cream, and quickly swipes up the cards. It’s only then that you notice these ones— his personal set, have braille on them.

“You can read these ones.” You say, and he nods.

“This game is much more important.” Biting your lip so hard it’s probably bleeding, you watch his talented hands quickly sort and deal the cards. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m cheating.”

“You’re so funny.” You squint, and he smiles.

This round is much faster. He’s clearly in no mood to fuck around anymore, and makes every opportunity to touch you now you’re sitting in front of him in nothing but a few strands of lace. In front of anyone else, you think you’d feel insecure, or at the very least cold, but with the way he’s acting like he’s starving for you— it has enough heat in that look to warm you for an entire winter.

You actually have a good hand this time, and to your surprise, you win. Your Aces beat his fours, and he takes off his jacket.

“That is hardly fair.”

“Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off? Because that is entirely unprofessional.” You want to laugh, but what you want more is to tear off the buttons on his shirt and— “Your cards, sweetheart.”

“So, are you going to tell me how you know you’ll win?” You take them quickly, trying to ignore how you missed him reshuffling the deck completely because you were too lost in your thoughts of fucking him right here, right now. What else was going to happen here, though? It was the anticipation that was driving you wild— the inevitable burn of what was months in the making.

“You really want to know?”

“Please.” He smiles again, flicking through his cards.

“I can hear your heartbeat.” You laugh, and he faces you again.

“You’re kidding.”

“It gets faster when you’re winning.” You look down at your cards— another solid hand, and you think he might of had something to do with that.

“I don’t think th—“

“It’s getting faster.” He leans closer again, tilting his head like he could actually hear you internally losing your shit. He was right— it was getting faster, but it had nothing to do with the cards. “You have a good hand, don’t you?”

“Maybe?” He laughs, and his hand touches yours. You watch as his hands— the hands you’ve spent way too many hours looking at, and they read your cards.

“Shit. I’m starting to think you might be cheating.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt, but your hands reach out, stopping him.

“My turn.” Keeping your hands on top of his, you relish in his surprised expression as you swing your leg over him. He all but gasps when you sit your weight down fully, the underwear hiding nothing from him or you as you press yourself against him.

Your fingers are as soft as his were, moving his tie to the side while you slowly undo each little button. When a new one opens, more of him is revealed, and every inch of unexplored skin has you nearly panting. Not to mention the way he’s holding you, his hands roaming the bare skin of your back and hips to pull you closer.

When you finally reach the bottom of his shirt, you nearly rip at it trying to remove it, but Matt takes it from you and slips out of it within a second, throwing it away somewhere behind you. Your hands are gentle as they slide up his chest, trying your best to avoid the scars that might still be painful. You had no idea he had so many scars— the image of him shirtless is even more alluring now.

“I don’t want to play games anymore.” You whisper, and his hand is already tangled in your hair when you finish, hauling your lips to his in a hungry kiss. Its fiery and hot, everything burning at once. You wrap your arms around his head and in one motion he stands, a small squeak of surprise coming from you as your legs wrap around his torso.

You couldn’t stop obsessing over the feeling of his skin on yours, the way he felt so warm against you; how his hands were rough and gentle at the same time, grabbing and pulling at any part of you they could find purchase. Eventually he stopped moving and your world fell backwards, landing on soft sheets and being encased by Matthew Murdock.

“Matty…” You whine into his mouth and he hums against you, his tongue opening you up, taking control of every single breath you take. Your eyes flutter open when he moves lower, kissing your jaw, and you inhale sharply when his teeth bite lightly at the sensitive spot on your neck. It felt electric, almost, the way he followed the harsher touch with gentle kisses and soothing hands.

“Fuck, you liked that? My sweet little fucking thing. Thought about this every day.” He groaned the confessions against your skin, leaving you helpless to do anything but moan and squirm underneath him. You were at his mercy, and you were pretty sure if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d implode. “You’re beautiful. Beautiful.”

His hand slips from your side down between your bodies, quickly finding the spot between your legs that has you nearly screaming his name in the first ten seconds.

“Oh God, more—please.” You beg shamelessly, rolling your hips into his hand as he takes his time drawing slow, firm circles on your clit. His other hand holds your hips down, making you whine in protest.

“I know, baby. Feels good?” You nod quickly, eyes squeezed shut.

“I need you—“

“You’re so fucking pretty like this. You want me to take these off? Have I won these yet?” He whispers, that casual confidence thick in his low tone.

“Anything you want. You w-win.” He tugs at the now ruined fabric, and you practically beg him to get rid of them, a mixture of ‘pleases’ and ‘yes’ in high pitched tones must convince him. He quickly slides them over your knees before his hand returns to your clit, making your legs shake with how close you are. He had you on the edge with just one of his talented fucking hands— but then he drops down, shoulders forcing your legs apart and buries his face in you. You hardly have time to realise what’s happening before your hands are threaded through his hair and your hips are fighting in his hold to stay still.

“Fuck, Matt!” You scream, and he only wraps himself further to you, hooking his arms under your thighs and holding you on him. When he takes your clit in his mouth you lose all sense of reality, and are shoved towards the edge of consciousness, white hot pleasure stripping you bare. “God—“

“You taste so fucking sweet— cum for me. I want to hear you say my name like that again” He murmurs into you before going back to driving you into the hardest release you’ve ever felt build before.

“Matt. Matt—“He holds you so tight you couldn’t squirm away if you tried, and when your orgasm washes over you, you all but drown in it. Electricity shoots up your spine and your back arches, hands gripping Matt’s hair hard enough that you feel him groan into you at the feeling.

“Harder.” He moans into you, and you were still so lost in your own pleasure that you couldn’t do anything but obey— nearly yanking him upwards, but he just moans again and takes everything you give him.

He only drags himself away when you jolt at his touch, kissing his way up your stomach, chest, and this time when he gets to the fabric of your bra he lingers longer, taking his time to enjoy the feel of the lace under his fingers. When he starts kissing your neck, leaving a multitude of hickeys you’ll never be able to hide in the morning, you notice at some point he’d taken the rest of his clothes off.

His hips slot between yours and he’s fucking hard— the feeling of him pressed against you makes you gasp. He was bigger than you’d expected, and every so often his hips would move slowly, running the length of him through your wet folds making you whimper into his mouth again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was gravelly and layered with restraint— hands gliding up and down your side, grounding you.

“Perfect, Matty. Please…” He kisses you again, gentle and sweet, nodding as he slides himself into you. You gasp into each others mouths at the feeling, and he pulls back, watching your expression melt from a little bit of pain as he waits and kisses you, to pleasure, taking the hint of your nails in his shoulders to start moving slowly.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck— so fucking good. Jesus Christ.” He moans in your ear and you shiver. It was always his voice that drove you crazy, but hearing it now, so broken and not put together like he always is. The words hit you in the chest, pleasure blooming in every single one of your veins, overtaking every part of your body. “So tight.”

“Right there. Harder, please Matt. Please…” He holds you tighter as he does what you ask, and your whimpers turn into screams as he fucks you into the mattress without another thought. Your eyes must roll back or close because you lose the sight of his face, but all you need is to hear him.

“Good girl. Good..fucking…girl.” Hearing the way he says your name, all drawn out and heavy— how he whispered how he wanted to fuck you for days, how he thought about ducking you at your desk for just as long as you secretly did. Everything about him, mixed with the brutal pace he fucked you with hurtled you into another wave of pleasure, screaming his name so loud there’s no way the rest of Hell’s kitchen didn’t know exactly who was making you feel this good.

“There you go, baby. Gonna…fuck— gonna cum. Sweet fucking thing.” His hips stuttered and you were still cumming, every word spurring you further out of your mind.

“Give it to me, please please please—“ He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his release on your stomach and thighs. He was still breathing praises into your skin even after he pulled out, wrapping you into his body, not caring about the mess you had both made. He couldn’t find the care to let you go.

When you had both finally caught your breath, he dropped beside you, curling your body to fit perfectly against the front of his. His hand tangled in your hair, lips pressing to your forehead and cheek as he used his own shirt to clean you both off gently. You were both far too lost in each others mouths to do it properly, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck. You’d gladly spend the rest of your days losing hours in Matt Murdocks mouth.

“Stay tonight.” He whispers, voice cracking.

“Only if you admit I won.” You can feel him smiling against your skin, the sensation sending a different kind of warmth all the way down your spine.

“Yeah. You win.”

[chuusheartattck]

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 32- Flashback mary ☕️

*This is a flashback chapter to Y/n and Scara’s high school days*

It was homecoming day, not any homecoming, but the last one you were ever going to experience in high school. It was your senior year and you wanted to make the most out of your last year of high school.

Your morning started out normal. The group chat was buzzing with excitement. They were also happy that Scaramouche was going to be hanging out with the group after being away for a while. He was always with his other group of friends, the ones you tried keeping away from.

You knew that Scaramouche was nothing like his friends. It was just upsetting that he wouldn’t publicly stick up for you. Despite all that, you and Scaramouche still called every night and shared things about each other’s day. He was good company to have.

The weeks leading up to the dance you both didn’t have a date. The two of you teased each other and called each other bitchless for not going with anyone but friends. However, without either one asking, it was pretty much unspoken that you two were going together. Only nobody knew, maybe besides Hu Tao and Childe. You two were also going in a group of friends. Nevertheless, as long as you hung out with him throughout the night, you didn’t really care.

You got ready at Hu Tao’s house. You both were running a bit behind schedule, mostly Hu Tao making both of you late. The two of you were supposed to meet up with the group to take photos but that didn’t happen.

When the two of you finished getting ready it was already 7:15, homecoming started at 7:00.

“Hu Tao we are so late.”

“It’s fine! The others are barely on the way there now. Even if the line is long to get in, we can just cut with people we know.”

Hu Tao’s time blindness made you concern but you shrugged it off. Her parents were driving you there. There weren’t any official plans on what to do after but someone is most likely throwing a party. Nobody knew who yet.

Hu Tao was wearing a short but simple burgundy dress. Her hair was styled into her iconic pigtails and you thought she looked very pretty. However, she got some new black high heels and can tell she was struggling to walk.

“Are you ok?” You asked as the two of you descended down the stairs.

“Yeah I just need to break into these shoes more,” Hu Tao held onto your hand and the staircase railing to prevent herself from falling.

“By the end of the night you’re going to take those things off.”

“I hope not. These were expensive and I want to make them last.”

You playfully shook your head and got to the bottom of the stairs. Her parents were already waiting for you both.

“Hu Tao you look so gorgeous! Y/n you look amazing as well!” Her mother complimented you both.

You thank her and noticed Hu Tao’s dad taking out his phone for pictures.

Hu Tao tried protesting against it saying how late you guys were but eventually gave in. After a few photos, her mom was driving you both to the school. Teyvat High School only booked venues for winter formal and prom. Homecoming was always at the school. Luckily, it was an outdoor school.

“Is anyone there already?” You turned to ask Hu Tao.

She was texting the group chat so you didn’t bother to look at your phone yourself, “Lumine said they’re all in line already. They’re at the back and the line is long apparently,” She replied back.

“I hope they play good songs this year. Last year was kinda boring.”

“That’s because last year you went with some complete weirdo.”

Hu Tao wasn’t wrong. The year prior, you were talking with someone and you two went to homecoming together. You both left an hour in because his friends wanted to go somewhere else. You wished you had stayed longer but you didn’t want to complain. You two never dated because you soon found out he only wanted you because you were a trainee. Instantly broke it off.

You two finally arrived and it already 7:50. It was dark out but you could still see the number of students in line. There was security watching the line as well to make sure that nobody was cutting.

When you two got out of the car you heard some people gasp and point at Hu Tao. Sometimes you forget she’s a rapper under a big company. You quickly spotted your friends and waved to them. Only Lumine noticed and grabbed the other’s attention. They motioned for the two of you to come into line with them but a guard was watching. Fortunately, he spotted some other people trying to cut into the line and started to walk towards them.

You and Hu Tao wasted no time merging into line where your friends were and acted like you were there the entire time.

The group was all there, Cyno, Kazuha, Aether, Thoma, Lumine, and last but not least, Scaramouche.

You and him made eye contact and he looked really good. Granted, he was wearing a normal suit that looks like every other guy there but he was wearing the dark purple tie you said he should get.

“The fuck are you staring at?” Scaramouche glared at you with a dirty look.

“Not your ugly ass,” You move away rolling your eyes, “I was looking at how pretty Lumine is.”

Lumine was wearing a blue dress that complimented her figure. She reminded you of Cinderella with her blonde hair.

“You barely got into line and you two are already fighting,” Kazuha sighed.

“You two need to settle this feud in bed,” Cyno laughed.

“I would rather listen to Hu Tao’s shitty song on repeat than ever get into bed with Y/n.”

“Who are you calling a shitty song?” Hu Tao yelled back.

“Ok! Time for shots!” Aether interrupts. He swung his arms around you and Hu Tao’s shoulders, handing you guys a small shot bottle of Tito’s.

“There was more but we pre gamed in the car and could only save you one bottle each,” Aether explained.

“Maybe if you weren’t so late you could’ve gotten more,” Scaramouche chimed in.

“You sound obsessed,” You grumbled cracking open the bottle. You made sure to turn away from the security guards so you don’t get caught.

As you were chugging you felt the burning sensation of the vodka pour down your throat. Alcohol never tasted good, you just wanted to loosen up more.

Cyno thought it would be funny to slightly tilt the bottle as you were drinking, causing the remaining alcohol to spill all over your mouth and onto your outfit.

You began to choke and cough.

“What the fuck!” You yelled in between coughs. Your throat was stinging and becoming increasingly dry. You were hoping to get inside soon so you can grab a water bottle.

Only Cyno and Aether bursted out laughing, everyone else tried holding back their laugh. You wiped your mouth and tried wiping down the wet spots on your clothes. Not even inside and your clothes were already ruined.

You guys were about to head inside, quickly you and Hu Tao threw the tiny bottles into a bush. The school would probably just find it later.

After getting checked in, you immediately went over to a table to grab some water to soothe your throat. This time, you drank away from your friends.

“Where should we go first?” Thoma pipes up. The school had a big budget and the student council spent all of it on a DJ, food trucks, gaming trucks and photo booths.

“Let’s go in the mosh pit!” Hu Tao suggested, pointing to the crowd of people in the distance.

This was high school and their version of a mosh pit is just jumping up and down while also shoving people when their favorite song plays. It’s fun for a little but you feel like you’ll get trampled after a while.

“I’ll sit this one out. I want to take photos first before sweating off my makeup,” Lumine says, sitting down at a nearby lunch table.

“Yeah I’ll wait till after we take photos, my mom will get pissed if I look terrible in them,” Thoma replies, sitting down next to Lumine.

Kazuha sits down on the opposite side of the table, “Mosh pits aren’t really my thing. We’ll wait here until you guys are done, then we can go to the photo booths. Is that ok with you guys?”

“Boo you’re no fun! But ok we’ll only be in there for a little bit,” Hu Tao replies as she sets downs her purse onto the table, “Watch my bag.”

The rest of you make your way over to the crowd.

Fein by Travis Scott began to blast through the speakers. You saw people rushing in and took it as a sign to do the same. Luckily, Hu Tao didn’t mind shoving people out of the way. She grabbed your hand and all of you guys made your way in.

Despite holding onto her hand, it still felt like you were going to fall. You were jumping up and down to the song but there were more people coming in and bumping into you. The mixed smell of sweat and Dior Sauvage made the air feel hot and heavy.

You were going to need a break soon. However, the next song being Family Ties by Kendrick and Baby Keem didn’t want to make you stop. More and more people were coming in and you were getting pushed around.

Your grip from Hu Tao was slipping and it really did feel like you were going to fall. You quickly grabbed onto the arm of the nearest person, which happens to be Scaramouche.

He looked at you and noticed your predicament, “Dumbass,” He muttered, rolling his eyes as he interlocks his fingers with yours.

You couldn’t help but smile and continue jumping. His grip was a lot stronger than Hu Tao’s which made you feel more safer. You weren’t worried about anyone noticing since everyone was occupied with not getting trampled.

After a few more songs played, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Your breath hitched thinking you had been caught. You slowly turned around and felt relief when you realized it was only Cyno. Granted, he didn’t know anything about you two but it would’ve been worst if it was a stranger.

“Hey, let’s take a break Aether doesn’t feel well and I don’t want him throwing up.”

You nodded and whispered to Scaramouche who also nodded and stopped jumping. You held Cyno’s hand as he led you two out of the mosh pit, like the buddy system.

As the three of you got out, you felt the cold night air against your skin. It felt nice after being in that stuffy environment. You didn’t realize how much you were sweating and panting. You looked down and noticed you were still holding Scaramouche’s hand.

He scoffed and quickly pulled his hand back.

Whatever.

You made your way back to the table and saw Aether with his head down and groaning.

“Holy shit are you ok?” You asked concerned for your friend.

Aether simply put his thumbs up in the air. He wasn’t too good with tight spaces. You sat down next to him and Lumine. She was the more famous twin but you were never really close with her. She was always away filming and doing photoshoots. You sometimes wonder how he can be related to her.

“Can you get up already? You’re so dramatic.” Lumine sighed, pinching her nose bridge, “The photo booth line is going to get longer the more we wait.”

“Is that anyway to treat your brother?” Aether mumbled, he looked up to glare at his sister before putting his head down again.

“I should’ve eaten you in the womb,” Lumine shot back.

After a few minutes, Aether was feeling less nauseous and was ready to take photos.

Fortunately, there was no line and all eight of you squished your way into the photo booth. It was quite spacious but it did feel tight being all there together. There were props and signs laid out inside and everyone took something.

The booth only took four photos. In the first photo, you and Thoma had your arms around the other person’s shoulders and pointing at each other. In the second photo, you did a simple peace sign. In the third photo, you were hugging Hu Tao.

In the last photo, Kazuha accidentally elbowed Scaramouche which prompted him to almost fall. Due to everyone cramped up next to each other, you all came down with him. The photo captured everyone trying not to fall and nobody looked their best, except Thoma. He was the only one who looked at the camera and posed.

Everyone got out and waited for the photos to be printed.

“I apologize to the person’s ass who I grabbed while trying to keep balance,” Aether says, scratching the back of his head.

“I think that was mine dude,” Cyno replied laughing.

You rolled your eyes, “Scara is so weak that he stumbled when Kazuha barely tapped him.”

“See how weak I am when I punch you in the face,” Scaramouche grumbled as he took the photos from the machine, handing them to each person.

You looked down at the photo collage as you all began walking back to your table. You smile fondly at what would only be a distant memory in the future. Your senior year had only started but it will quickly end before you could even blink.

You didn’t want to miss out on the good memories like this one.

.

.

.

Everyone had split up after a while to do different activities. You all agreed to meet up when the night ended but for now, you lost everyone and didn’t know what to do. You had just came out from the mosh pit and your feet were hurting too much to continue. You decided to take a small breather somewhere far away from everyone.

You went up the stairs that leads to one of the buildings that had a balcony where you can see the football field. You would come up here when you were bored with class and wanted to walk around.

Only this time, it appears you weren’t alone. You noticed a familiar figure already looking out. One of which you were hoping to get alone time this night.

He heard your footsteps and turned around to look at you.

“Can’t you see I was here first?”

“Can’t you see that I don’t give a fuck?” You scoffed and stood next to him. He didn’t move from his position.

Scaramouche sighed and took out a pack of cigarettes.

“How did you get those pass the security?”

“I have my ways,” He said while putting one in his mouth and casually lighting one.

He took a long drag and exhaled, making sure to clear out the smoke with his hand. He silently passed it onto you.

You took it from his hand, “If we get caught we’re getting suspended.”

“Maybe they’ll suspend you but definitely not me. I’ll just have my agency contact the school.”

“You and your fame.”

“Something you wouldn’t know about.”

You scoffed, “In case you forgot, I was on that idol survival show. People still know me.”

“Yeah but who didn’t debut.”

You stood silent. It was pointless ever getting into a petty argument. He knew how to silence you every time.

You only took out your phone in response.

“Let’s take a photo together!”

“Hell no. Don’t you have the one we took with the others?”

“Yeah but I want one with just us. Let’s take a 0.5 photo.”

“No.”

“Too bad we’re taking one anyways.”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes and got closer next to you. He looked straight at the camera as you took the photo. When you were done you looked at the photo.

“See how cute we look!”

He side eyed you, “I’m the one that looks good. Not so sure about you though.”

“Fuck you.”

Scaramouche tried to hold in his laughter as he looked away from you.

“Kidding. You look better than normal,” Scaramouche says, putting out the shared cigarette and throwing it off the ledge.

You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult.

“Thank you? Uh, you too I guess,” You huffed, leaning forward against the railing.

There was a moment of silence shared between the two of you as you both stared at the football field in front of you. The distant sound of music only filled the air. It was a comfortable silence and you wished it would last forever, staying by his side like this.

It was cold up on the balcony and the night breeze caused you to shiver a bit. Scaramouche of course noticed.

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

“No,” Scaramouche mimicked your voice, “Yet you’re starting to shake more than a tweaker waiting for his next fix.” He said in his regular voice as he took off his suit jacket and put it over your shoulders.

“I didn’t ask for your jacket,” You tried protesting. You secretly enjoyed it though, that’s why you held it closer to you.

“Do you want it or do you want to continue being cold?”

You didn’t respond.

“Exactly,” Scaramouche huffed in annoyance.

You enjoyed moments like these. Ones where it was the two of you alone and you can talk freely like this. It made you upset whenever it ended, because you knew he would go back to ignoring you in the hallways.

You were getting lost in your thoughts and his words from earlier kept coming back.

“Who didn’t debut.”

It was silly to get stuck on that. You knew the votings were rigged, everyone did, but it still hurt. You gave it your all and worked hard to debut but it wasn’t enough.

You had gotten back to school and it was all anyone could talk about. You’ve gained sympathy and comfort from others, but it didn’t make the failure any less painful.

It made you realize how things can come and go so quickly. That’s why you had a bittersweet feeling about being in your last year of high school. It has been a rough four years and you were glad to not be able to see some of your peers, but what about your friends?

The friends that have been supporting you through everything. They’re going to be studying in different universities. It’s going to be hard to keep in contact and you’ll be trying to train your ass off to debut.

“Do you think after the school year ends, we’ll still be in contact with each other?” You piped up, breaking the silence to look over at him.

He hesitated for a moment before replying, “I don’t see why we wouldn’t.” Not sparing a glance at your direction.

“It’s just your popularity is rising and if I don’t end up debuting then it’ll be hard to keep in contact with you. It’s easier to continue seeing each other if we’re both in the entertainment industry,” You managed to say, looking away from him this time.

“You’re worried I’ll forget about you?”

“You’re making me sound desperate,” You mumbled, hint of annoyance in your tone.

“The company would be stupid if they only keep you as a trainee forever. You’re not untalented and you put in the effort. Some look helpless on stage, but not you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. Despite Scaramouche being an asshole half the time, he knows when to be sorta nice.

You two often shared things that were troublesome. It was almost like the other one knew what the other one was feeling at the moment. It was something special you two had. Even when one of you was being emotionally constipated, you both still tried your best to give advice to the other person.

“Though, you can work on your dancing skills,” He quickly said.

Never mind. Moment ruined.

You smacked him on the back of his head. He always humbles a person after giving a rare compliment. Most of the time it’s backhanded.

Scaramouche was about to say something but the two of you heard footsteps coming from behind you guys. You both froze not wanting to turn around, afraid it was someone that would freak out if they saw the two of you together.

A familiar voice rang through both of your guy’s ears, “Y/n? Scara?”

You both turn around to see Thoma standing there. You sigh a wave of relief when you see your friend. Though, he’s definitely confused on the close proximity you and Scaramouche are sharing, but doesn’t say anything.

Instead he says, “It’s almost over. Let’s head back to the car. Do you guys need a ride?”

You both nod in unison and begin to follow Thoma back. You silent give Scaramouche his jacket back. It’d be a scandal if people caught you with him like this.

The three of you silently make your way to the parking lot where the others were. You didn’t realize how many of you there were until you thought about the car situation.

“Ok there’s no way I’m fitting all of us into my car,” Thoma sighed pointing at his suv.

“Too bad, make it happen. You have a big enough car. Two people can sit in the trunk, three people in the backseat but someone has to sit on someone’s lap, and the other person sits in the front,” Cyno suggested.

Everyone agreed right away, however, Thoma hesitated before agreeing begrudgingly. That’s how you ended up sitting in the trunk with Scaramouche. Lumine, Hu Tao, Aether and Cyno were all in the backseat. Aether sitting on Cyno’s lap and Kazuha in the front seat.

Before you even left the parking lot, you guys were discussing on where to go.

“I heard Keqing is throwing an after party,” Cyno mumbled, barely heard from Aether sitting on him.

“Dude I swear if I feel something hard underneath me,” Aether grumbled, clearly him sitting on Cyno’s lap was not his first choice.

“I can say the same for you,” Cyno argued back.

You didn’t know how you and Scaramouche ended in the trunk. It was pretty spacious given the car model so it wasn’t too uncomfortable and you both had leg room. You just sat on opposite sides from each other.

“Can we get food? I’m lowkey hungry as fuck right now,” Kazuha mentioned. While everyone was arguing on who sits where, he silently hopped in the passenger seat.

Everyone agreed and that’s how you ended up at In-N-Out at midnight. It wasn’t packed but you guys stood out due to your attire. It’s not like you guys gave a fuck though.

After you all finished with your food, you guys decided to go to the park since you didn’t want the night to end. It was around two in the morning and you were sitting on a bench watching your friends mess around at the playground.

It was nice to see everyone goof around. However, it brought you back to that bittersweet feeling you noticed before. Seeing their smiles and hearing their laughter. There's this warmth in your heart, knowing how much joy you all bring to each other. At the same time, there's a tinge of sadness because you realize this might be one of the last times you’re all together like this. It's your last year before you all go your separate ways, and you can't help but cherish every moment, knowing that soon, things will change.

After a while, everyone got tired and Thoma dropped everyone home. You put the photo booth photo on your dresser, next to the photos you had of your friends.

.

This is the memory you had just remembered as you stare at that photo. The photo of your friends at your last homecoming. Setting the photo down, you look back at your phone. You haven’t contacted your friends since school has ended, even though you promised. Things have gotten busy but you miss them dearly. One day, you’ll have a reunion and it’ll be like the old times.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Sorry this took a while I’ve been busy studying for tests 😓 Also as a little hint: this friend group is the same one in my next xiao smau (except for thoma he’s a replacement) so this is what would happen if xiao wasn’t in the picture at all :) Also i tried to write the mosh pit scene based on experience 😭 Do not go into one in heels my feet were so bruised and bleeding by the end.

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

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