#if anyone feels like debating this with me i invite you to shove your head even further up your ass so i don't have to hear your bullshit

[vampirejuno]

Ok one more thing.

[sukirichi]

— just the two of us

request: I almost read all of your jujutsu kaisen writings and I love it. Your writing is really good! I do not know if a request about a fics🥞 about satoru gojo who is really in love and not very possessive with an oblivious reader. It will be fun to see Satoru try to flirt with her and she doesn't get it🤣

pairings: gojo x oblivious! reader

notes: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTEEE I absolutely loved every second of writing it! thank you for the request and I hope you like this! 🥞 breakfast has been served!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none, other than this is unedited and written humorously rather than seriously~

masterlist !

Gojo doesn’t know whether he’s lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you’ve got no idea he’s so in love with you.

It’s a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to school with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to “get that vitamin D.”

Satoru snickers at your statement, because you’d totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you’d notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if maybe you’d inherited the Six Eyes instead of him, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?

He doesn’t even know where it began. A year ago, Yaga introduced you as the newest staff member. You’d been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried if maybe the kids wouldn’t love. They did, of course, how could they not. Not only were you extremely fun to be with, you’re also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of the students got injured over a mission.

Shoko reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that they’re still only kids and should be out having fun.

Yeah, maybe that’s where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Satoru’s heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave for work, mock-saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don’t get a single thing.

“That café was really good,” you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Satoru sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. “We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the kids with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!”

Satoru masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time Megumi called you mom and dad by accident, to which you happily responded with before tackling the boy in hugs, while the strongest jujutsu sorcerer only flushed in embarrassment.

Him being him though, Satoru played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. “Huh, a dad?” he smirks, “The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N.”

The raven haired first year student immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. “Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don’t see you marrying my mom or anything,” Just as Megumi nearly howls in laughter – another evidence that you’re really something else to get the usually stoic boy to lose his composure like that – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. “Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays.”

Hopeless, Satoru wants to say, you’re absolutely, utterly hopeless.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn’t give up. “How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?”

Say yes, say yes – please say yes.

Really though, he’s waiting for that ‘no’ already. Satoru knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in the countryside, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn’t so easy to find in the city.

But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. “Really? You’d like to go to the movies with me?”

“Of course I would,” Satoru tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he’s completely taken aback. He’s the Gojo Satoru for heaven’s sake, he shouldn’t be this affected by anyone’s presence. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it’s actually happening – his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. “I thought there was a fly,” he lied with a chuckle, “But yeah, Saturday. I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Satoru wouldn’t stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Yuuji had face planted into the ground and Megumi sprained his ankle from training, he wasn’t able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He’s floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.

“Well, you look creepy,” Shoko commented in the faculty room the moment you excused yourself, “Did you land a date with her or something?”

“That I did,” he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.

“I can only hope Y/N makes it out alive,” Nanami announces from behind the newspaper he’s reading, legs crossed over another before he peeks above the paper, narrowed eyes dead set on the blindfolded man. “Don’t be too wild with her, Satoru. She’s a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I humbly suggest you don’t mess with her feelings.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!”

“Who’s cute?”

Shoko nearly spits out her coffee the moment you enter, glancing around the room and sitting down next to a shock-still Satoru. Nanami only huffs in his seat with a shake of his head. It doesn’t take long before Satoru regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he’s turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.

You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you’re so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Satoru chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.

“You’re cute.”

Shoko shudders at the same time Nanami just gives up on everything, folding his paper and lying that he’s got someplace to go with Ichiji. Satoru patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.

You’re silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Satoru ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?

Even Shoko ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Satoru watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of a wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. “Thank you!” you giggle at his compliment, “You and Shoko are very cute too! And the kids too, especially Toge! Not that I’m saying he’s my favourite—”

“He’s definitely your favourite student,” snorts Shoko who is ignoring the way Satoru turns completely gray beside you.

It turns out you still haven’t figured it out after all.

“The kids this – the kids that,” the tall, lanky man whines, his head falling back on the back of the leather couch. He looks so utterly defeated you can’t help but lean over him to check if he’s okay, but Satoru pouts and hides his face under his uniform instead. “Why can it never be just the two of us?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

This time, you’ve kneeled on the couch to hover him. You even pluck one side of his blindfold off to see how he’s doing, and suddenly thankful you can’t see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now. 

“Nothing,” he assures, his smile hidden behind his shirt. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn’t the right time, and Satoru just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. “It’s nothing.”

It’s absolutely not nothing.

Saturday couldn’t come faster.

Satoru finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.

He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It’s another reason why he can’t comprehend why you don’t like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He’s pretty funny too – and his strength and power is already a no-brainer. Satoru can’t wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn’t like him; it’s basically a life or death mission at this point.

With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Satoru sashays out his apartment. Even though it’s already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.

This time around, he’s more than confident. He’s going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, “Wow,” is the first thing he says, pulling his blindfold down just to look at you.

Satoru feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to the countryside and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you’re an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you’re real.

“Wow,” he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. “You look very handsome yourself.”

Satoru’s been called handsome a million times before that it’s gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits different. If he was excited before, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.

He knows it’s not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you’re with, and that he was the one you’re going to the movies with.

All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he’s so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.

His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you’re sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don’t pull away from his thigh flush against yours.

In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.

He doesn’t even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it’s just the two of you.

Satoru reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he’s on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you’re so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It’s clear you don’t like him, after all.

You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.

Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Satoru knows he’s messed up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. “I should’ve gotten my own bowl instead.”

Satoru stares at you through his blindfold. You’re close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he’s so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. “Cold,” he shows you his hand, “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” you nod and slip your fingers through his. Satoru nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Satoru feels like he’s floating in his own Infinite Void right now. “Feel warmer now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “Extremely.”

Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don’t mind touching him at all, Satoru can’t help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It’s just the two of you, and you’re the only one he ever cares about this much that he’d pretty much let you do anything at this point.

“You know,” Satoru begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It’s now or never. “Shoko and Nanami are annoyed that I talk about you all the time.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. “Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?”

“No,” he nearly groans in frustration, “You’re really pretty and cool. You’re amazing during missions, too, when you fight, it’s like I’m witnessing a warrior princess. So cool.”

This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Satoru with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. “Oh, no,” he closes his eyes even behind his blindfold, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t think I’ll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words.”

“Satoru!” you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you’ve both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character’s friend’s death. “What are you going on about?”

He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you’d be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it’s you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn’t something he can’t fix. He’ll get you on the train one way or another.

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror,” Satoru whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn’t even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around you has descended into grief and loneliness. “I also called Nanami on first date tips.”

“Nanami?” you echo with a gasp, “Why Nanami?”

“Because he’s married, that’s why. Mans know some tips for sure.”

“Wait, so,” you chuckle nervously, and Satoru waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He’s patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. “This is a date? Our first date?”

“Only if you want to be,” Satoru shrugs, grimacing afterwards at how sappy he sounds. “Well, I actually consider this our first date and I’ve been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn’t dress myself up today only to come back home crying.”

Satoru’s heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It’s crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn’t complain though; he never will.

“I’m glad,” you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.

Satoru stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He’s feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he’s fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he’s feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?

“You always make me feel so happy when you’re around that I still can’t believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn’t get my hints.”

Satoru groans, “What the hell? How long have you liked me?”

“I guess when you started bringing flowers to Megumi randomly just to piss him off.”

Satoru wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you’ve started working with him, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he’s been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?

“God, Y/N,” he mutters to himself, “You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?”

That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you’re oblivious of everything. Satoru is right; he still can’t decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.

It doesn’t take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life, but Satoru doesn’t rush anything.

With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it’s just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

hi, i just wanted to say i loved your charles oneshot :) i was wondering if you could do an enemies to lovers w/ daniel ricciardo? thanks!

DANIEL RICCIARDO ONESHOT

TEMPORARY STRANGERS

( WARNING: swearing, alcohol, blood/injury, little bit of fluff/angst? )

word count: 5.4k

< this is my attempted version lol >

You’d debated whether or not to go to Theo’s party. For one, it was on a Thursday night, which, in itself, was rather tragic for a party thrown for an adult because surely he had to have thought that most people would be working on a Thursday night? Secondly, you had an early shift at the hospital in the morning, so you weren't sure if staying at a party fit for Blair Waldorf for a couple of hours was entirely worth your presence.

But, after a persuasive conversation on the phone — in which Theo spent the majority of it begging you to make an appearance — you’d caved and now you found yourself standing in the middle of a kitchen sipping on a lemonade, expertly avoiding everyone’s eyes and wondering why you agreed to come in the first place.

The apartment was a large, luxurious one, decked from head to toe in pricey decorations and with an open-plan layout. You even had half the mind to compare it to what you imagined a Royal Palace looked like.

In other words, it was big and incredibly tasteful and fancy, in the most annoying way possible.

Then again, Theo did own a successful Estate Agency, which specialized heavily in selling buildings in the centre of London. The money pooled from that spoke for itself, and it also meant that since university he’d met people in all aspects of his work, all of which looked like they’d been invited to his party, which unfortunately meant you didn’t know anyone, and the couple that you did, you had absolutely zero intentions of actually talking to them.

The guests themselves were glamorous, dressed to the nines and decked with expensive watches and jewellery, and you felt out of place wearing your best dress with your favourite high-tops and a blazer.

On another note, the lemonade and food were delicious. It was almost as if he’d hired a private caterer and then shoved them out of the back door before people started arriving.

“You know, I didn’t think you meant it when you said you’d come.” A smooth voice knocked you out of your reverie, and you whirled around, hastily swallowing the lemonade when you noticed the familiar blonde that you’d befriended in uni.

“I didn’t think I did either if that makes a difference.” You replied, biting the inside of your cheek as Theo rolled his eyes, making his way around the kitchen island to place a couple of collected empty glasses near the sink.

“Well, are you having fun?” He asked, leaning back against the counter next to you, his shoulder judging yours teasingly.

You hummed, narrowing your eyes, “Not as much fun as when you crashed my Grandparents party and scared away the boy they tried to set me up with, let’s just leave it at that.” You breathed a laugh, swirling the lemonade in your cup as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing.

“Oh, I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” He said, his attention turning to the other partygoers in the near vicinity, his eyebrow raising as he spotted someone trying to sneak one of his clocks into their bags without being caught. It didn’t work; they saw his gaze and turned a suspicious shade of red and pretended as if they’d simply been admiring the thing before walking away.

Theo cleared his throat, adjusting his tie.

“I think I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, his finger pointing in the direction of the culprit, an apologetic look in his eyes. You nodded, breathing a short laugh in understanding.

“I think I’m going to head out anyway—”

“Oh, please stay.” He held out a hand, silently begging for you to stay.

You hadn’t seen each other in at least a couple of months because of clashes with schedules, and it was getting to the point where the odd texts and phone calls and video calls were starting to feel more like a chore than a privilege. You had been close friends for the best part of ten years now, and you were still close, but adult life was more difficult than you expected trying to balance relationships and work.

You breathed in deeply, eyes flashing around the guests, accidentally catching the eye of Daniel and flicking your attention back to Theo hastily.

“I’ll stay for now but I’m going home in an hour, I have an early shift in the morning.” You promised, offering a small smile as Theo nodded, returning the gesture before disappearing into the throwing of people.

It wasn’t long before you were approached by an unfamiliar face. She was — like all the other people in the room — dressed nicely, and she stumbled slightly in her heels, almost running into you.

“Oh, shit, sorry about that.” She muttered, and you could smell the faint, bitter scent of alcohol on her breath, indicating that she wasn’t completely sober.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You reassured, asking if she wanted something else to drink, seeing as though you were standing next to the drinks table and the fridge.

She shook her head, instead resuming Theo’s place against the counter next to you.

“Do you see that man over there?” She whispered, pointing her finger in the direction of the crowd out in the living area.

You furrowed your eyes, trying to lean slightly to make sure you could see who she was pointing at.

“I think you’re gonna have to be more specific because there’s about thirty people in that general direction.” You said, resisting the urge to laugh as the woman sighed, shuffling closer to the group and standing in her heeled tiptoes to see over the sea of heads.

“Okay, so he’s about 6 foot, brunette, curly hair…” she snuck a glance at you out of the corner of her eye to make sure you were trying to look out for the person she was talking about, “really fit and has an Italian nose.” She concluded.

You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling quite awkward in the presence of a stranger. You averted your eyes back to the pile of drinks on the kitchen island and halted your actions in searching for who could only be Daniel Ricciardo.

She noticed your reaction and gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth as if you just spilled the hottest gossip of the season.

“You know him.” She stated, stepping back slightly with an accusatory shine in her eyes.

“I don’t know him, I just know of him.” You lied, trying to brush the topic off as subtly as possible.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, taking your arm and ignoring the cry of protest from your lips as she dragged you away from the kitchen area and into the heart of the party, where the chatter was significantly louder, “I don’t believe that. You can introduce us.” She insisted.

You dug your heels into the floor as best as you could, trying to push away the wave of panic that surged through your veins.

“Lady,” you started, ripping your arm out of her iron grip, “I don’t know him.” You reiterated.

“If you don’t know him, how can you know of him?” She enquired snarkily, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow in your direction.

“How can you not know of him?” You returned, shrugging. Her face remained blank, and it occurred to you she really didn’t know who Daniel was. “That’s Daniel Ricciardo. Formula 1 driver for McLaren this year.” You told her, straightening out your blazer uncomfortably, unaware of the eyes on you from the other side of the room.

“Formula 1? So he’s, like…a millionaire?” She licked her lips,sultry eyes slipping over the crowd and fixating on who you assumed to be Daniel.

You cringed, resisting the urge to turn your nose up at her. You suddenly regretted telling her about his career because even a blind man could see that his money was the main thing on her mind at that moment in time.

You neglected from answering her question, instead trying to slink back to the kitchen, but you were interrupted by the scuffle of feet and the sound of something shattering before an obvious cry of pain was heard throughout the room, nearly drowned out in the volume of the music pumping from the speakers.

You swivelled back around, and several people had stepped away from the scene leaving an open gap in the crowd as more people gathered around to see what the kerfuffle was.

The girl had disappeared seemingly into thin air and you were about to take the moment of peace as an opportunity to leave, but Theo’s voice called your name over the crowd, laced with urgency.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, heart pounding with anxiety at the panic in his voice. You made your way to the crowd, apologising to people as you pushed your way through to get to the centre of all the attention.

As soon as you edged into Theo’s vision, he dragged you by the elbow into the centre, pointing to the person who’s cry of pain was heard over the music.

Blood was dripping from a deep gash in the palm of their hand, and the person in question looked a little pale, holding their hand up above their head, a permanent wince etched onto their face. Despite that, they looked rather uncomfortable with all the attention, and it was this that caused Theo to turn to the crowd and usher them away.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Theo informed you, and you wasted no time in helping the injured person raise their arm higher above their head, guiding them through the crowd with a secure arm around their waist.

“A cut on my hand doesn’t hinder my ability to walk, okay?” They tried, shifting out of your grip.

“No, but if you pass out, it hinders my ability to patch you up.” You retorted, hurriedly passing your glass of lemonade back to Theo.

The person let a weak, sarcastic huff pass their lips, but they let you guide them to the bathroom, keeping an eye on the blood dripping down their arm and creeping into the sleeve of their blazer.

“Toilet or tub?” You asked, kicking the door shut behind you and casting a weary glance back at their hand.

“Depends on the context.” They answered.

You rolled your eyes, settling them on the toilet and quickly rifling through the sink cupboards, locating the first aid kit with ease.

“I’m gonna need you to take off your blazer.” You said, never imagining that you’d say those words to Daniel Ricciardo of all people.

Your relationship with Daniel was weird to say the least. You first met at — surprise, surprise — Theo’s party a few years ago. You’d gotten along swimmingly, perhaps a little bit too well, and it was safe to say he was incredibly charming and cursed with good looks. You were quite good friends, actually.

Until one day he pulled a face at you when you approached him at an award’s evening of some sort. You’d got no idea what happened to elicit such a negative reaction, or any idea on what you could have done, but he’d sneered at you and turned around, making conversation with the person next to you. He’d never explained why, but ever since that day he’d ignored you as much as possible, and it wasn’t exactly hard not to enjoy his company when he was so obviously disgusted with your presence.

Maybe it was the fact that you only managed to snag one piece of cake that night.

“You want a striptease? At least take me out for a date, first.” He muttered, pressing his lips together in obvious discomfort as he peeled his blazer off, being cautious of the blood. “I don’t even know why you’re bothering with this anyway, I’m fine.” He insisted.

You perched yourself on the edge of the bath, placing your bag on the tiled flooring and zipping open the first aid kit.

“Dan, you’re dripping blood…you’re clearly not fine.” You muttered, carefully rolling his shirt sleeve up past his elbow, ignoring the fact that this was the first time in a long time you’d been this close to him. Ignoring the fact that he looked positively fine in a suit, minus the blood.

He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and shifting uncomfortably under your touch.

You turned his hand over, assessed the gash and winced, trying to ignore the tingling, uncomfortable sensation mirrored on your own palm as your eyes ran over the gash. It ran the width of his palm, and it didn’t take a genius to notice that it was quite deep in some places.

“Can we please be quick?” He sighed, his other hand smoothing out non-existent creases in his dress trousers.

You hated to admit it, but his words stung.

“Can you at least pretend like you don’t hate me, for fifteen minutes at least?” You said, an unintentional fierceness to your tone, one that you’d tried your best to dial down in his presence, but it seemed to no avail.

“Only if you do the same.” He muttered, and you took the liberty of ignoring his comment, reaching to fish an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit, gently dabbing at the edges to clean off some blood so you could see the extent of the damage. You flexed his hand, ignoring his hiss of pain as the cut stretched slightly.

“What was that for?” He asked, his free hand slapping your hand as he fought to take his cut up hand out of your grip.

You opened your mouth in surprise, the skin on your own hand stinging slightly with the sudden contact.

“Don’t slap me! I’m trying to make sure you don’t have glass in it, you twat.” You said, shaking your head, “Which it doesn’t, by the way, so you’re welcome for checking.”

“How did you even know to check for glass?”

“Because there was broken glass on the floor?” You answered, applying pressure to the wound and lifting his hand a little higher again.

He huffed, turning his face away from you, so he was facing the wall, his lip curling into a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “What did you mean when you said ‘only if you do the same’, anyway?” You murmured, keeping one hand on the wound and reaching to the floor to pick up your bag and unclip the front.

He narrowed his eyes, watching you root around in your bag for something, and he was about to say something, before he was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Everything ok in there? Everyone still alive?” Theo’s muffled voice echoed into the room.

“We’re fine.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel grimaced, brown eyes burning through the door as if he was trying to send a telepathic message to Theo through the door.

“Good.” Was all Theo said before the full sound of his shoes against the wooden veneers could be heard on the other side of the door.

You hummed in delight, producing the very thing you were originally looking for in your bag.

“Haribo?” Daniel asked, raising his brows expectantly.

“To get your blood sugar levels up, you’re still pale.” You answered, ripping open the packet, and just as you were about to pour the sweets into Daniel’s outstretched hand, you paused, recoiling.

“What?” He asked, noticeably frustrated that he wasn’t scoffing the sweets.

“Why don’t you like me?” You questioned, biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously as he stared straight at you, his face expressionless.

He was quiet for a while, and you almost told him to forget you even said anything because the simple question looked like it hit home, but he opened his mouth, quickly closing it again. He looked at you from behind furrowed brows, apparently confused by your question.

“Why don’t I like you?” He repeated the question. “Why don’t you like me?”

You gaped at him, your cheeks flushing with irritation at his words.

“I don’t—I never—” you sighed in frustration, the hand clutching the packet of Haribo clenching unconsciously as Daniel looked at you with mild concern, “Why the hell would you think I don’t like you?”

He blinked, casting his sights back to the wall, ignoring your eye contact.

“Theo told me you, and I quote, ‘hate me’,” he answered, swallowing roughly as you continued to stare at him.

His discomfort under your gaze brought a sick sense of satisfaction, but at the same time you were having difficulty wrapping your head around what he’d just admitted.

“Theo? My Theo?” You clarified, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded.

“When did he tell you that?” Your heart was starting to hammer in your rib cage, the power of which was almost painful to endure.

“When we went clubbing a while back,” he shrugged.

“Why would he—?” You muttered, before turning back to Daniel. “Are you sure he said that?”

“Positive.”

“So you’ve been so hostile towards me for months now, all because of something someone else said to you in a dark, loud club when you were — let’s face it — probably drunk?”

Daniel sucked in his cheeks, now realising how there would have been so many chances for misunderstanding in such an environment.

“Yes…” he replied, dragging the word out slowly, trying his best to take his mind off the way your grip on his wound was slowly increasing.

“I never said I hate—”

“So…you don’t not like me?” He interrupted, his eyes wide.

“No…Yes…I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that, but I never hated you.” You said, ducking your head down at his intense glare, instead turning your attention back to his bleeding hand, carefully peeling off the gauze to take a peak. You suddenly remembered the scrunched up packet of Haribo still clutched in your grasp, and you shoved it in Daniel’s direction, not bothering to even look at him when he took it, humming quietly in thanks.

He didn’t know how to respond to that, the revelation sending his mind spinning about a hundred different directions.

He was mad at Theo, even if what happened wasn’t entirely his fault, but he was mostly mad at himself for not even bothering to try to talk to you and hash it out. The months he spent trying to ignore you were completely miserable, and the worst part is, he put you through hell without even giving you any reason, and all of that ignorance was not even worth it…that is, if what you said was true.

“Oh.” Was all he said, taking to watching you strap up his hand after telling him he (thankfully) didn’t need stitches, but he did need to rest it for a while, which was probably for the best because the F1 Summer Break was currently in full swing.

Once you’d put the soaked gauze in the bin and tidied everything away to how you’d arrived before the bloodbath ensued, you stood up, brushing nonexistent dirt off your dress, and offered Daniel a rather confused smile.

He bit his lip in thought, your eyes unconsciously zipping to his mouth, before steering your gaze back up to his eyes when he caught you, raising his eyebrow slightly, a pale shade of pink tinting his cheeks as he fought back a smirk.

You turned away, looking at the door, which was very much tempting you at that moment in time.

He cleared his throat once he’d noticed your attention flicker away from him, and it was only then he registered he practically craved you to be looking at him. Whenever he was at functions with Theo, he would always unknowingly search for you, even when he thought you hated his guts, he’d still scan the crowd of unfamiliar faces in the hopes that he’d see you again.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously, feeling your eyes on him. It was as if he’d suddenly melted into a teenager again right beneath your eyes. He cleared his throat again, sinking back against the toilet in an attempt to make himself smaller at the revelation he’d just arrived at.

It was weird, seeing him so shy when he was naturally such an outgoing character.

You found a part of your brain secretly admiring his flustering, but you quickly shut that down, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be having those thoughts, especially since you’d just had to mop up a slice on his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go grab a drink and join the fray.” You said, hating the way your voice sounded so small against the echoing walls of the bathroom tiles.

Daniel snapped his eyes to yours, holding them intently, slightly alarmed at your words.

The last thing he wanted was for you to leave him; call it soppy, but he wanted to make up for lost time as soon as he possibly could, and he knew there would be very few opportunities considering both your careers were so demanding.

“Um…” he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I just want to say, thanks for all of this.” He gestured down to his hand, and you smiled.

“No problem. Just…stay away from broken glass for a bit and you should be fine.” You mumbled, words not registering in your brain as Daniel breathed a small laugh, looking utterly starstruck and sad at the same time.

“I’ll try my best.”

You offered one last smile, checking you still had your bag, and without another word you slipped out of the bathroom door, hearing the handle click behind you.

You could still hear the thumping remnants of the party in the next room, and without really caring who you bumped into along the way, you made a beeline for the kitchen, filling up a plastic wine glass with the nearest spirit and downing it as quickly as possible. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, immediately feeling guilty because of the early shift, and hurried to fill the glass back up with water, trying your best to dispel the effects of alcohol before they even had an impact.

It seemed to work.

Your head was spinning, unrelated to the liquids you’d just absorbed, but because of the bathroom fiasco that had just occurred only moments prior.

You were that caught up in your own thoughts, trying to separate fact from fiction and thought from feeling, that you completely missed the very brunette on your mind stride past the kitchen and into the living area, looking like a man on a mission as he tried to seek out Theo.

It didn’t take him long, he just had significantly more trouble trying to shake off a blonde that refused to let go of his arm, and he found Theo leant against a table, looking worn out, his mind absent from reality.

In the time it took for you to patch Daniel up, it looked as if Theo had faced a war and somehow escaped.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, hand clapping into Theo’s shoulder in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

He jumped, immediately relaxing when he registered just who was standing in front of him.

“I’m fine, but if that…person over there takes another step towards my Grandma, he’s not going to know what hit him.” He answered, finger pointing at a rather suspicious looking man.

“I don’t see a Grandma anywhere.” Daniel pointed out, slightly concerned.

Theo rolled his eyes, as if he’d had to answer the question a million times already, “She’s the purple one on the mantelpiece.” He muttered, taking a swig of whatever was in his glass.

Daniel nodded, feeling guilty for even bringing up the topic, but the completely detached behaviour from Theo was giving him a hard time in focusing on what he actually came over to do.

“Sorry about that, mate.” He apologised, breathing in deeply.

Theo shrugged.

“Anyway, does Y/N still have the same phone number or did she change it?” Daniel questioned, attempting to pretend like the question wasn’t that big of a deal by shrugging and avoiding making eye contact with Theo, but the raise of the eyebrow and curious, piercing blue stare proved that his attempt was futile.

“I knew you still liked her.” Theo chuckled.

“Am I that transparent?” Daniel quipped, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“Only for me.” Theo grinned, patting Daniel’s cheek.

Daniel pulled a face, swiping Theo’s hand away.

“But no, she’s still got the same number. Why’d you ask?”

Daniel shrugged, already backing away, attention flickering around the room, once again searching for something — the action of which didn’t go unnoticed by Theo, who positively cackled inside, “Just curious.”

“If curious means ‘I-fucked-up-with-a-really-good-person-big-time-and-I-need-to-make-it-up-somehow-before-I-ask-her-out-for-real-this-time-instead-of-practicing-it-in-the-mirror’, then, whatever you say.”

“That was ages ago!”

“People don’t forget!” Theo yelled, smirking in triumph as Dan disappeared around the corner, no doubt searching for you.

You were sitting on the cold, stone steps outside the apartment building, your phone in your hand and debating whether or not to call a taxi or walk home before it gets too dark.

Your thumb was hovering over the call button to your local taxi when the building doors slammed open, the sound of shoes slapping against the concrete as a tall figure leapt down the last three steps, running a hand through their curls in frustration as they looked left, then right, and sighed, reaching into their jacket pocket to produce their phone.

You couldn’t see their face, only the back of their head, but you’d recognise that figure anywhere.

You looked down, your heart stuttering at the sudden buzzing of the phone in your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to laugh at the hilarity of the situation, and answered the call, lifting the phone up to your ear, your eyes fixated on the pacing figure on the pavement, watching him from your spot at the top corner of the stairs.

“Hello?” The person asked, sounding a bit breathless through the phone.

“Hi.”

“It’s Daniel...Ricciardo.” He winced at his own awkwardness.

“I know. You’re still saved in my contacts.”

“I am?” He replied, tone laced with shock.

You were almost embarrassed to admit that you’d held onto a little shred of hope in thinking he’d eventually get over himself, “You had a paddy with me, remember?”

“About that, I’m really sorry. Like, really, really, really,really, really—”

“I get the idea.” You sighed.

“No, I don’t think you understand how sorry I am for it. It was so insanely stupid of me to stop talking to you because of something I thought I heard in a club — a fucking club of all places — without even thinking of talking to you—”

“Why didn't you talk to me?”

He was silent for a while, and you noticed he’d halted his pacing on the pavement. “I know it sounds like I’m making up excuses, but I really thought you hated my guts, and that...it hurt because I kind of had a bit of a crush on you and I pushed you away because I think a subconscious part of my mind thought that if I did that then it would be better in the long run because I wouldn’t be so attached to you if something went weird later on.” He explained, his voice lowering and quieting towards the end, as if he’d just understood what he didn’t understand.

“That’s...a lot to unpack.” You murmured, noticing the way his shoulders had slumped.

“Yeah...we don’t have to do it right now, though.”

“No, I agree, I think we’d need a nicer place to sort though our emotional struggles than outside Theo’s apartment building.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird — what?” He caught himself, spinning around on his heels.

You offered a shy wave once he’d tilted his head in your direction, realising you’d been watching him talk to you the entire time.

“I was looking for you.” He said once he’d hung up the phone, meeting you halfway on the steps.

“Why?”

“Can I walk you home?” He resorted to asking.

_____

The journey home took about twice as long as it usually would, and by the time you’d both made it onto your street, night was beginning to creep through, the sky changing to a darker blue, street lamps beginning to turn on.

The conversation flowed remarkably easily, albeit there was a noticeable hesitance in dancing around that subject, but you pretended not to notice it, and you had a feeling Daniel was trying to do the same.

He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, almost disbelieving of that fact that you were in front of him, even after what he’d put you through, and he had to keep catching himself to ensure you didn’t notice him looking.

You did.

“So, how are you feeling about going back after the Summer Break?”

He stifled a smile, “I don’t know why, but I have a really good feeling about going back. You know what? It has to be those Haribo’s.” He breathed a laugh.

“What? I hand out magic Haribo?” You smirked, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yep.”

“No.”

“You say that now, but you’ll take it back when I get a podium.”

“When you do win, just don’t go around telling everyone about my magic Haribo.”

“Oh, the Haribo are reserved for me and for me only. It won’t have the same effect if you give some to Lando.”

“I’ll just take your word for it, I guess.”

You breathed a laugh, coming to a halt on the pavement, the familiar house standing to your left.

Daniel looked up.

“I thought you had a Fiesta?” He asked, pointing to the blue Hyaundi parked on the driveway.

“I’m sorry, is my car not up to the standard you’re used to?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow teasingly in his direction.

“Oi, I’ll have you know that I learnt to drive in a — I can’t even remember what model it was, but I do remember having to really press down on the brake…and the air con was broken.” He defended, throwing his hands up as if to say he was surrendering.

You bit your lip, “I learnt to drive in a Mercedes.”

His reaction was priceless.

“A Mercedes? You learnt to drive in a—wow.”

“It was just the company car, I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Still…wow.” He paused, feet tapping the pavement agitatedly, “I have a proposal.”

You met his eyes, unable to help feeling slightly anxious by the prospect.

“Go on.” You encouraged, crossing your arms tightly.

“If I win a GP…wait—can we make a deal?” He asked, throwing his hand out.

You nodded.

“If I win a GP, I get to take you on a date.” He offered, raising one eyebrow but somehow maintaining eye contact.

“But…what’s in it for me?” You smirked.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “That’s so rude…but, okay…I take you to Monza, and if—when I win a GP, I get to take you out. For my own sake, I’m gonna pretend like I will win one because I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t.”

“You’ll win one.” You stated simply, shrugging.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re Daniel Ricciardo, when have you ever not been successful in a car?” You asked, pulling a face as if it was obvious from the get-go.

Daniel didn’t say anything after that. He just sort of looked at you, twisting his mouth up in thought. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind at that moment in time, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to believe your words.

“You really believe that?” He finally said, a hint of what sounded like insecurity laced in his tone.

“You don’t?” You shot back, your heart breaking slightly at his demeanour.

“I never left.” He mumbled under his breath, turning away from you slightly with furrowed brows, seemingly having a conversation with himself.

You knew those words would stick around in your mind for a long time.

But there was something so addictive about ‘Daniel Ricciardo wins the 2021 Italian Grand Prix’.

[theladyofdeath]

Elain’s Pie {Part 3//Conclusion}

Part 1: Elain’s pov 

Part 2: Azriel’s pov 

NSFW. 18+. 

Shout out to Shelby for writing this with me!

Azriel stood outside of Elain’s apartment.

He had been standing there for five minutes, at least, unsure of what to do.

Well, he knew what to do.

Knock.

He should knock.

And, usually, knocking would not be a difficult task, but it was the first time he was seeing Elain since…

The incident. 

She had invited him to come over for dinner. Coincidentally, pie was for dessert. 

Azriel closed his eyes and took a deep breath before knocking on her front door, three times, avoiding the giant floral wreath that hung in the top center.

“Coming!” she heard him call.

His entire body flooded with nerves. As her footsteps approached along the wooden floorboards, Azriel felt like he was going to puke.

He should turn around.

He should go home.

He couldn’t stop imagining her breasts.

Damn it, Azriel, you’re a grown ass man, not some horny teenager with only his hand to-.

Elain opened the door, looking absolutely stunning in a lavender sundress. 

“Hey!” she beamed. “Come in, dinner’s almost ready.”

He nodded, and smiled, and walked inside, running a nervous hand through his cropped hair. “Smells good.”

“Yeah?” Elain asked. “Just a simple dinner of roasted chicken and carrots. Nothing fancy.”

Azriel nodded, and realized just how long it had been since he’d been in her apartment. Her pink roses must’ve died. In the middle of her kitchen table, lilies took their place. 

Elain chuckled as she swept past him, back into the kitchen. “Take off your shoes, get comfortable. You act like you’re a stranger.”

Azriel cleared his throat and quickly slipped off his Vans. “Sorry, I- I didn’t sleep well last night.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Knowing he was going to Elain’s, he didn’t sleep worth shit. 

“How come?” she asked, opening the oven to remove the pan within. 

Azriel hesitated. “Not sure,” he lied. “Air conditioning went out. I think I was just hot.”

Elain hummed as she put the hot dishes on top of the stove. The table was already set to perfection, in true Elain fashion, just for the two of them. “There’s a bottle of wine chilling in the freezer. Mind taking it out?”

Azriel nodded and did as she asked. After taking out the bottle of moscato, he found the corkscrew and popped it open. After filling the two glasses on the table, he set it to the side. 

“Can I help with anything else?” he asked.

Elain shook her head as she carried a dish of roasted chicken surrounded by vegetables to the table. “Sit. Make yourself comfortable.”

He did as she asked.

Once he was seated at the table, he continued to watch her. 

“You’re acting strange,” she said, bustling about the kitchen, adding the finishing touches to their meal.

No, not at all, I’m just wondering if you’re wearing that same scrap of lace under your dress tonight. I just keep thinking about it.

“Just tired, is all,” he lied, but then he slipped in a kernel of truth. “A lot on my mind.”

“Well that’s what dinners with your best friend are for,” she replied, rounding the corner and taking the seat across from him. A soft smile that was so quintessentially Elain bloomed in her lips. “So you can relax and get whatever’s on your mind off of it.”

Looking at those lips, he knew there was no chance in hell he’d be able to get the image of her wearing nearly nothing out of his mind. Or the images his mind had come up with, based on pure creativity of his own.

Luckily for him, she hadn’t left much to the imagination. 

“Help yourself, please,” she said, motioning to the plate between them. She took her glass of wine and sipped from the rim. Azriel tracked the movement. 

When it was clear he wasn’t moving, Elain set down her glass. “This is awkward, isn’t it?”

“What?” Azriel asked. “No. No, it’s not-.”

“I was afraid this would be awkward, and it’s so awkward,” she said, her cheeks turning pink.

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Elain, it’s not awkward.”

“Then why are you acting so weird?” she asked, meeting his eyes. 

Azriel hesitated. “I’m not acting weird.”

“I know you better than anyone,” Elain said, pointedly. “You’re acting weird.” 

Azriel looked down at his empty plate, then back up at her. “Maybe we should talk about it.”

They hadn’t talked about it since that first night, since the night Azriel opened his phone to see a sight he never thought he’d have the honor of seeing, and then it was just him joking around to make her feel comfortable and less embarrassed.

Elain nodded, slowly. “Okay. We can talk about it.”

He had suggested they talk about it, yet he had no idea where to start. What exactly to say. He went with the question that had been eating him alive since she explained it wasn’t the picture she meant to send him.

It didn’t explain why the picture existed.

“Why did you even have that picture?” He asked, trying to keep his tone light. He even took a sip of the sweet wine to appear like he wasn’t about to tear out of his skin. “Was it for…someone else?”

They told each other everything. As far as he was aware, she hasn’t been seeing anyone else. Her breakup with Greyson four months ago had been catastrophic enough that she had decided she wanted to be single for a while. Granted, it had been a while, at this point, but he hadn’t heard her talk about a potential beau during any of their dinners, texts or phone calls.

“No!” She blushed, covering her own face. “No, of course not. I never take pictures like that.”

He refrained from telling her that he had seen proof that was a lie, at least once, but let her go on. “I just… I thought I looked good while I was getting dressed that morning. I was…feeling myself.”

Azriel bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Feeling yourself, huh?”

“Yes, feeling myself,” she repeated, and Azriel noted her cheeks had turned a darker shade of pink. “I’d never even taken a picture like that...and I wanted to know what I’d look like on camera.” She shook her head and breathed a laugh. “It was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Azriel said, a little too quickly. Elain raised a brow, and he cleared his throat. “The picture wasn’t stupid. You looked…amazing. Incredibly attractive.”

Elain nibbled on her bottom lip as she said, “Of course you’d think that. I was nude and you’re a man.”

It was a joke, Azriel knew that, but Elain’s voice was far too quiet and insecure for the punchline to really hit.

Azriel just shook his head. “You always look amazing, Elain. I was attracted to you long before I saw you naked.”

There it was.

The confession.

Elain’s lip fell from between her teeth.

Before she could say anything back, he began scooping chicken and vegetables on his plate. “Smells amazing. I’m starving.”

That quickly, he tried to shove what he’d said under the rug.

For a second, she debated pushing him, those words, words she’d never expected to hear from him… They filled her with far more of a thrill than she expected.

So she let him steer the conversation to safer topics, let him drain his own glass and then refill it.

They ate.

They made small talk, talked about their weeks and work and what was going on with their friends. The conversation grew lighter with each word, and that awkwardness they had found themselves in had slowly faded away.

As dinner wrapped up and their plates were cleared, the wine bottle found itself empty.

Elain stood and cleared their plates only to return to the table a moment later with another bottle of wine and dessert.

“I hope you saved room for pie,” she said, setting it down in front of him.

His cheeks heated and he cleared his throat. “Absolutely. Always room for pie.”

The second the words left his mouth he wanted to take them back. Gods, his head was swimming. That was the dumbest thing he could have said, considering.

He could see the smile trying to form as she cut into it and placed a slice on his plate. “Good. I’m proud of this one. It’s a new recipe I found.”

As she leaned over, the dress she wore gave him an unintentional view of her cleavage and he forgot how to breathe. “I’m sure it will be the breast— I mean, best! The best you’ve ever made.”

Mother’s tits, he was hopeless. He was no better than a thirteen-year-old discovering the Internet for the first time. He couldn’t drag his eyes from her cleavage and knew drinking anymore of that sweet wine would land him in so much shit, he would have no idea how to get out of it.

Elain was looking at him. With the smallest, sweetest of smiles, she asked, “Breast?”

“I said best.”

“You said breast.”

“I did not.”

“Are you going to think about my boobs every time I offer you pie?”

Azriel opened his mouth, then shut his mouth just as quickly. “I’m trying not to, but it’s a little hard.”

“It’s a little hard?” she repeated, brows shooting up as she looked down, as if she could see through the tabletop to his jeans.

“No- not- I’m not….it’s hard not to think about…” Azriel sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Nevermind.” 

Elain suppressed the smile on her lips, and when Azriel opened her eyes and met her gaze, the amused expression on her face had him laughing, quietly. She reached over and refilled his glass. 

“I’m not mad about it, you know,” she said, quietly.

“About what?” Azriel asked, indulging himself with more wine.

“That you can’t seem to get that picture out of your mind.” 

“Good, cause it’s not likely to go anywhere any time soon,” he admitted, thinking back to what else he’d admitted earlier in the night.

She took a drink of her own wine as she sat down next to him, in the spot closer, rather than the seat across the table. “So. Have you ever sent any accidental embarrassing photos of yourself?”

He nearly choked on the bite of pie he’d been taking, and he had to admit, it was pretty damn good. “Have I ever…accidentally sent a dick pic to someone?”

She laughed softly, the sound of it skittering across his bones, and said, “Well, a topless picture of you wouldn’t be nearly as scandalous. So yeah.”

“Never on accident,” Azriel replied, clearing his throat. “Almost did the other night though.”

As soon as the words were out, he wished he could take them back. Especially as he saw her eyes widen.

He was drunk. He must have been so damn drunk to be saying the dumb shit he was saying.

“To me?” she asked, as if she didn’t already know the answer and needed clarification. 

“That’s typically the response, isn’t it?” Azriel asked, unable to control the words coming out of his mouth. “You get a naked picture, you send one back. Until you texted saying it was an accident, I was…thinking about it, yeah.”

Elain nodded, slowly, pursing her lips. “And what would it have looked like?”

The words were quiet, hardly audible, but her deep brown eyes were lit up, waiting for his answer.

Azriel hesitated. “I’m not… I don’t know,” he laughed, and a giggle escaped Elain. “It looks like it looks, I guess.”

“That doesn’t give me a lot to create a mental picture,” Elain said.

“Are you trying to create a mental picture?” Azriel asked.

“It’s only fair, isn’t it?” she asked. 

Azriel simply lifted a brow.

She took another sip of her wine and shrugged, asking, “You said you thought I was attractive, right?”

He nodded, not trusting his mouth to not say something stupid anymore.

“What if I said I found you attractive, too?” She raised an eyebrow and waited.

Azriel waited, too, not saying a word.

Her grin grew. “What if I told you I’d thought about it before?”

He blinked and choked. “You’ve thought about�� Really?”

She laughed, the sound bright and amused. “I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

Azriel stared at her, eyes narrowed. “I feel like this is a trick.” 

“It’s not a trick.”

“Are we drunk?”

Elain took a moment to think about it. “I don’t think so.”

Azriel chuckled, knowing full well that she was full of shit. “Fine, you win.”

She raised a brow. “Show me.”

“Patience,” Azriel crooned. “I’m eating my pie.”

Elain leaned over to his plate, dug her finger into the filling and brought it to her lips, sucking it off her fingertip.

Azriel watched her, his heavy breaths going shallow. 

“It is delicious,” she said, giving him one of those bright, heart-stopping smiles.

That smile spurred him into motion. Reaching over, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards him, meeting her in the middle. The kiss was soft and sweet and it took everything in Azriel not to nibble on that full bottom lip. He felt her fingers grip his collar, pulling him closer to her and he kissed her until she was breathless.

Pulling away, she stood, smirking, and asked, “Are you all done with your pie?”

In answer, Azriel stood and scooped her up, his mouth instantly finding hers, hungrily. Her legs wrapped around his waist, the skirt of her dress sliding up her thighs. 

She clung to him, and it felt...right.

He had felt Elain’s arms around him a million times throughout the years, but those were only simple, friendly hugs.

This was something entirely different. This was desperation, heat, an awkward situation had turned into years of emotion tumbling out of them.

I showed you mine, you show me yours.

Oh, he would, he would show her everything, anything she wanted. He was in her grasp, and he didn’t want her to let go.

Azriel stumbled into Elain’s bedroom, his lips still on hers. She bit his bottom lip and tugged and the low growl that escaped Azriel had Elain’s fingers digging into his back. 

Azriel dropped Elain onto her bed and she landed, perfectly, her hair spilling into a crown around her head. She watched him, eyes bright.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want to-.”

“I showed you mine,” she interrupted. “Fair is fair.”

Azriel stepped forward and reached for the hem of his henley, quickly pulling it over his head.

Elain pushed herself up into a sitting position at the foot of her bed and reached out, her fingertips brushing along his inked abdomen. 

Azriel held his breath.

Moving her fingers up his abdomen, Elain studied him. When she reached his chest, she began to trace the lines of his tattoos. She would stop at every scar and brush her thumb along it, as if giving it extra recognition and appreciation. 

When her hands moved back down, she paused at the waistline of his jeans, riding low on his hips. She traced his happy trail until she ran into the button of his jeans, and slowly undid it, bringing his zipper down just after. 

She didn’t wait, didn’t want to waste any more time by teasing him, and tugged his jeans off. He kicked them off, left in just a pair of tight, black boxer briefs.

“You’re sure about this?” Azriel breathed. Not because he didn’t want it, gods, he’d never wanted anything more than he’d wanted Elain. He’d been falling for her for years. But he knew there was a line that was about to be crossed that there was no coming back from.

Smirking, she slid her finger inside the waistband of his underwear, slowly running it back and forth, hip to hip. “Something to hide in there? Is he shy?”

“Absolutely not,” he replied. He was straining against the fabric and he knew Elain could see that.

With a nibble on her bottom lip, she looked up at him beneath lowered lashes and said, “I want to see your cock, Az. I want this.”

The words were the most vulgar thing he’d ever heard from her, and he was so stunned and turned on by them that he could only nod.

She tugged his boxer-briefs down and he sprung free.

Elain stilled as her eyes widened, taking him in. She took a raggedy breath, and Azriel watched every single movement that radiated off of her. The way her eyes took in every inch, the way her lips parted, the way her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. 

She wrapped her hands around his cock before leaning forward and brushing her tongue over the head. Azriel cursed, hardly able to breathe. There were many ways he thought this would go, but her mouth around him?

It wasn’t one of them.

Not that he was complaining.

He sure as hell wasn’t complaining. 

His hands were fisted at his sides, terrified that if he moved, if he did anything to frighten her, she’d stop, and right now needed to know what her mouth felt like. He needed to feel the warm wetness and thought he might die if she stopped.

And thank the cauldron, she didn’t.

Elain let her tongue pass over the swollen head again, once, twice, before those full, pink lips wrapped around him.

Azriel was unable to stop the groan as his head fell back, but he forced himself to look down, not wanting to miss a second of her mouth on him.

Her eyes were shut and she kept a hand firm around the base of him as she worked him.

“Fuck, Elain,” he breathed, letting his hand slip into the mass of her golden-brown hair. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him.

Azriel had always loved getting lost in the deep caramel depths of her big, brown eyes. However, there was an entirely different feeling those big, brown eyes gave him as they eyed him through her long, dark lashes while her lips were wrapped around his cock.

And with her lips wrapped around his cock, and her eyes on his, Elain slid the straps of her dress down until it was a pool of lavender fabric around her knees. 

Her lips let him go with a soft pop. “Do you want to fuck me, Azriel?”

With every word, her breath was warm against his sensitive skin. She slowly stood, her hands trailing along his skin as she did so. Once she stood, Elain slipped off her bra, then slid down her panties.

The only part of Elain he had yet to see was now on full display.

Quietly, she laid back on her bed and spread her legs open wide before motioning Azriel to come toward her. The breath was knocked out of him as he cursed, and his knees hit the bed as he studied Elain’s perfectly shaved, pretty pink pussy. 

With a growl he’d never heard come out of himself, Azriel lined himself up at her entrance.

She gripped the sheets beneath her, and Azriel gripped her hips.

“Ready?” he asked, quietly.

Her cheeks were rosy. “Yes, please-.”

There was a knock on the door.

Azriel’s head swung around. “The fuck was that?”

Elain blinked. “What was what? Azriel, fuck me-.”

That knock came, once again. 

“Azriel,” Elain pleaded. “Fuc-.”

That knock came again, and Azriel’s eyes shot open. 

Elain wasn’t spread out before him, begging him to fuck her. He wasn’t in her bedroom, he wasn’t even in her house.

No, as Azriel blinked, his surroundings became clearer and he sat up, looking around his own living room.

He’d fallen asleep on his couch after work, his quick, shitty dinner of frozen pizza and a Jack and Coke still sitting on the coffee table.

And his cock was incredibly, painfully hard.

He fell back against the cushioned arm rest, dragging a hand down his face.

It’s was dream. It had all just been a damn dream and—.

Another knock came from the door and he realized that that had been what pulled him from the most amazing dream he’d ever had, right before he’d been about to fuck Elain.

Before he’d been about to fuck his best friend.

“Az?” a familiar, high-pitched voice called. “Are you okay? I thought I saw your truck in the lot.”

Elain.

He looked down to the pitched tent just below the waistband of his sweatpants. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Hey! I, uh, I’m coming.”

No, he wasn’t.

And that was the real problem on so many different levels. He stood, and with his eyes closed, he took a couple of deep breaths. 

Dead puppies. The end of The Notebook. Bad whiskey.

As he walked toward the front door, Azriel continued to think of things that made him sad, hoping his dick would get its shit together before he opened the door.

“Az, it’s raining!” Elain yelled, and he could hear the laughter in her voice.

A sound that made all the sad things Azriel was trying to think about completely vanish.

When he decided that little Azriel was calm enough, he opened the door. Elain stood on his doormat, rain drops falling onto her hair, in jeans and a t-shirt. 

“Sorry,” he said, unable to control his grin. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I texted you about an hour ago,” she said, as he stepped aside to let her in.

“I accidentally fell asleep on the couch,” he said, tossing a thumb over his shoulder. In the process, he highlighted his piss poor meal.

She laughed. “It’s a good thing I brought this then,” she said, lifting the dish in her hands.

He somehow hadn’t even noticed it, but he froze and asked, “Brought what?”

Elain’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as she set the dish down on his kitchen table. “It, uh, is an apology pie.”

Azriel stopped on the other side of his table and chuckled. “I’m sorry, it’s a what?”

Elain sighed and covered her face with her hands. “This is an I’m sorry I sent you a picture of my breasts pie.”

Azriel couldn’t help his laughter. “Do people usually make pies for such occasions?”

“I do,” Elain replied, taking the lid off her dish. “And be happy about it, because it’s apple, and it’s going to be delicious.”

Azriel watched her for a moment before he nodded and went to retrieve two plates and forks. When he turned back around, Elain was watching him. 

“I…thought this would be awkward,” Elain confessed as Azriel sat across from her at the table.

“Why?” Azriel asked, cutting the pie. “Cause I’ve seen your tits?” 

Elain’s face turned as red as a tomato as she kicked his shin under the table. “I just… I don’t want this to change anything, you know? You’re my best friend, Az. You’re the one steady thing in my life and I don’t want that changing.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, plopping a massive piece of pie onto his plate. “It’s already forgotten about, alright? I haven’t even thought about that picture once.”

Elain lifted a brow. “Are you lying?”

“I would never lie to you,” he said, lying through his teeth. He’d thought about that picture every day, both when he was awake and, apparently, while he slept, too. 

“Good,” Elain said, helping herself to the dessert. 

Without another word on the subject, Azriel helped himself to Elain’s pie. 

[the-iceni-bitch]

Search No More

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Words: Guessing cuz I’m on mobile again, 1.5k?

Summary: Andy has a new job and needs you to save him from forced camaraderie.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex), alcohol consumption by adults of appropriate age, Neal Logiudice (cuz fuck this guy), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: Another one from the WIP folder that is specifically for @imanuglywombat’s “Is that even a sex position?” challenge, week three. I figured a nice soft position would be perfect for our favorite floofy lawyer boi. Please check out the other great fics this challenge has given us and enjoy!

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!

It had been a slow night at the bar, so your staff practically insisted on sending you home early, Jesse shoving out the door as you protested feebly.

“Take a night off, boss.” He grumbled amicably as he ushered you towards your car, handing you your coat and bag as a light snow started to fall. “Maybe go snuggle with that boyfriend of yours that’s always hanging around. Where is he tonight anyway?”

“There was a new faculty mixer.” You said with an eye roll. “You’re sure you’ll be fine, Jess?”

“We’re always fine.” He said dismissively with a wave of his hand as you climbed into your vehicle.

You texted Andy as you started your car to see where he was and he practically begged you to come meet him at the party, whining about how sinfully boring law professors were. You got the address from him and headed out, arriving in the posh Newton neighborhood in a little under 30 minutes.

There were a few partygoers hanging around outside, and you cursed to yourself when you saw them wearing cocktail attire. Leave it to Andy to forget to mention a dress code. Thank god your dry cleaning was in the back.

You tried to find something relatively conservative and settled on a simple satin sheath that was probably a little shorter than was appropriate but it’s not like you had a lot of options. You started to awkwardly disrobe in your front seat, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling your sweater over your head. A surprising knock on the window made you yelp while you were bent over the console with the back of your dress unzipped to grab your emergency heels.

“Ma’am, we’ve gotten some reports of an extremely attractive woman getting naked in a 2003 Acura, any chance that’s you.” A gravelly voice said behind a blinding flashlight.

You growled and opened your driver’s side door into Andy, almost making him drop his phone in the street. He let out a chuckle at your scowl as you stepped out of the car and straightened up, starting to pull the zipper of your dress up your back.

“I would’ve changed at the bar if you let me know this was a cocktail party asshole.” You snarled at him, turning to let him help you draw the zipper up the last few inches.

“Or, you would’ve gone back to your apartment to try to find something else to wear, and I would’ve been stuck listening to professor McDrones-A-lot talk about torts for god knows how long.”

“Aww, are your new coworkers boring, babe?” You teased him as he wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you inside.

“God, they’re so fucking boring.” He murmured into your hair before turning to introduce you to some ancient man with elbow patches. “Professor Donaldson, this is Y/N.” He said, throwing you a wink. “She was just telling me how interested she is in tort reform.”

“Splendid! Are you a lawyer my dear?”

You shook your head and did your best to listen politely as you glared at Andy over the old man’s shoulder. He gave you a stupid grin before heading to the bar to grab the two of you some drinks.

“What the fuck are you doing here, sweetheart?”

You cursed under your breath and turned to glare at Neal Logiudice, the absolute last person you wanted to see.

“Hello Neal.” You grumbled.

“Get out of here, Wally.” He said, dismissing the professor he had very rudely interrupted. “Go find some other asshole to bother.”

The old man just huffed and gave you a sympathetic pat on the arm as he hobbled away.

“That was rude.” You said, your eyes roaming the room in search of Andy. You didn’t feel like dealing with Neal’s bullshit tonight. “Why are you here Neal? I thought this was a faculty only event.”

“Alumni are invited too. And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.” He growled, stepping closer and invading your bubble. “Cuz you’re definitely not alumni or faculty. You work your way through all the lawyer dick at your bar and come looking for more?”

“Lovely.” You said dryly, frowning at the smell of whiskey that enveloped the man. “You’re drunk.”

You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and turned your head just enough to see Andy scowling behnd you. He slotted himself beside you and wrapped his arm around you in a protective embrace as he and Neal stared each other down.

“Logiudice.” He said menacingly, and you rolled your eyes as the levels of testosterone in the room shot up suddenly.

“Barber.” The giant said with a sneer. “I see you’ve moved on to the leftover dregs of the Newton law community. I hear that pussy’s had every defense attorney cock in town.”

Andy let out an absolutely feral growl and you just managed to hold him back as you glared at Neal.

“Jesus, Neal. Glad to see you’re not bitter.” You said with little humor as your arm strained against Andy’s chest.

“No bitterness here, sweetheart. Just waiting for you to work your way to me.” He leered at you, giving you a lascivious wink.

You let out a sigh as you started to shove Andy away from the idiot, grateful for all your experience manhandling drunks as he fought against you every step of the way.

“He’s not worth it, baby.” You murmured once you had achieved a good amount of distance, your hands smoothing his jacket over his chest in a soothing gesture as Neal let out a guffaw behind you.

“I dunno, I kinda feel like punching him in the face is definitely worth it, sweetheart.” Andy said as he took some deep breaths and turned his gaze back to you.

“Maybe not at your first event for your new job though.” You teased him, tugging softly on his beard and making him grin at you. “Where’s my fucking drink?”

“Shit, I got distracted. I’ll be right back.” He said apologetically, starting to turn away from you.

“Oh no, you are not leaving me by myself again. All I need is to get cornered by some crazy professor who wants to tell me all about bird law.” You said as you tagged after him, the two of you weaving your way through the partygoers as you made your way to the bar.

“What the fuck is ‘bird law’?” He beamed at you after ordering your drinks, leaning against the bar and cocking one eyebrow at you.

“Jesus, I think you might be too classy for me, Barber.” You teased. “We’ve gotta work on your pop culture references.”

The two of you managed to have a relatively pleasant evening, even though you had no idea what anyone was talking about most of the time. But you loved watching how relaxed Andy was around you, and how passionate he got whenever he started to debate with one of his new colleagues. He was in the middle of a particularly heated discussion about the evolution of laws regarding sovereign immunity when he noticed you gazing at him, and his face broke out in a grin.

“You’ll have to excuse me, guys, I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten and I worry I’ve been neglecting my date. Let’s continue this on Monday?”

He made his way through the party, saying some quick goodbyes as his hand rested on your lower back. You let out a soft moan when you reached the foyer and he pressed you into the wall, his lips brushing against yours before he broke away to find his coat.

He returned after a few minutes and wrapped his arms around your waist, his mouth moving against yours hungrily as he guided you out the door.

“Jesus, Andy!” You whined when he lifted you slightly as the two of you made your way to his Range Rover. You bent your knees so your toes wouldn’t drag along the pavement.

“I dunno what you expected when you were looking at me like that, sweetheart.” He teased as he wrapped one arm around you tightly and brought his other hand to fumble through his coat pockets in search of his keys.

“I couldn’t help it.” You murmured in his ear as he pressed you against the driver’s side door, working to open the door to the back seat. “All that law talk does things to me.”

“Yeah?” He muttered around a grin, finally getting the door open and setting you down across the back seat. “You didn’t find it boring?”

“Not when it was you, Professor Barber.” You said in a husky voice, winking at him as he climbed on top of you and pulled the door closed behind him.

“Fuck honey.” He growled as he tossed his coat in the front seat before burying his face in your neck. “You’re gonna need to call me professor more often.”

“Mmm, professor.” You hummed as he ran his teeth over your throat before sucking a bruise over your collarbone. “I had some questions about affidavits I was hoping you could help me with.”

He gave a dark chuckle against your chest as his mouth kept moving lower, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts as his hands moved under your back to unzip your dress. Once he had it open he yanked it off you and tossed it aside, bending over you again to nip at your skin as you dragged his suit jacket off over his shoulders.

“Why do I feel like you just want to hear me say affidavits?” He teased as you drew his tie off and started to work on his shirt buttons. He wrapped your thighs around his hips and ground himself into you, making you whimper as a fresh rush of arousal flooded your panties.

“Fuck, say more lawyer words, professor.” You whined as he drew the straps of your bra down your shoulders, drawing your breasts out of the soft lace and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.

“Amicus brief.” He teased as his tongue laved over your nipple and you felt your pussy clench around nothing.

He moved to give your other breast the same soft attention as you worked on undoing his belt, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he worked you over. You finally drew his belt off and he sat up to remove his slacks, his lust blown eyes never leaving yours as he dragged his pants and boxer briefs down over his legs, tossing them on top of the rest of his clothes in the front seat as his cock bounced up against his abs, making your mouth fill with saliva at the sight.

You didn’t give him a chance to dive on top of you again, instead climbing into his lap as he knelt there and sucking his lower lip into your mouth. He groaned against your lips as you brought a hand down to wrap around his dick. You dragged his length through the slick that had soaked your thighs before shoving your panties aside and guiding him to your entrance.

Andy let out a deep sigh as you sank onto him, taking his full length in one smooth motion until he was fully seated in you. His tongue pressed between your lips and curved against yours as you wrapped one hand around his neck and the other around his bicep.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, baby.” He muttered against your lips as he started moving his hips at a languorous pace. “So fucking warm and wet for me.”

“Mmm, Andy.” You moaned as you nipped at his lips softly. “I love having you inside me.”

“Yeah, pretty girl?” He murmured as he started to move a little faster. “You love feeling my big cock in that tight little pussy?”

“Fuck, I need this cock, baby.” You hissed, resting your forehead against his and staring into his eyes. “Nobody fucks me like you do.”

“Shit. You’re squeezing me so good, honey.” He muttered as he ground against you. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

“Fuck, I’m so close, Andy.” You whined as his hips thrust against you even harder. “God, right there. I’m gonna cum”

“Do it, I wanna see that cream all over my dick.” He buried his face in your neck and gave one last violent push of his hips.

You let out a cry as every muscle in your body went rigid, your fingers digging painfully into his neck and shoulders. Your pussy clenched around him for a beat before fluttering in your release as your torso rolled against his and a wave of intense pleasure washed over you.

“Jesus, baby.” He murmured as you came down, straightening his legs one at a time as he held you to him tightly.

You were still kneeling and the new angle had him hitting you even deeper than before, making stars burst behind your closed eyelids. Andy bent his knees slight behind you and leaned you back to rest against them as he moved his mouth to your breasts, making you whimper as his tongue brushed against your nipple.

“God, I could spend all night like this.” He murmured as he started pulling you down to him over and over, making you devolve into a mewling, whimpering mess. “My face buried in these perfect tits and my cock buried in that perfect pussy.”

You felt yourself clench around him at the praise and dug both hands in the hair at the base of his skull, pressing his mouth to your chest as you arched into him. His cock twitched inside you in response as he let out a deep groan, his hips meeting yours desperately.

“I’m gonna cum again, shit. You close, baby?” You felt him nodding between your breasts as his hips stuttered. “Fuck, I wanna feel it fill me up. I love when your cum inside me.”

“Goddamn it.” He hissed, and that was it for both of you.

Your knees squeezed his hips painfully as you tugged at his hair, a moan coming from deep in your chest as your orgasm ripped through you. Your cunt fluttered uncontrollably as your muscles spasmed around him, milking his cock for everything he could give you. He shouted your name against your chest and dug his fingers into your waist as his spend filled you up, painting your velvety walls in hot ropes that mixed with your own release and seeped over your thighs in a thick mess.

He collapsed back against the seat with a groan, taking you with him as he still held you tightly. You nuzzled into his neck as aftershocks still shook through you, your pussy clenching around his softening cock at random intervals.

“Well, fuck me Professor Barber.” You teased as he buried his face in your hair.

He let out a groan and grinned at you as he brought his face to meet yours, his tongue slipping between your lips as he kissed you deeply.

“God, I fucking love you.” He whispered without thought as his hands ran over your spine. His hands stopped suddenly as he realized what he’d said and his held his breath as he waited for your reply.

You just buried your face in his chest hair and sighed before whispering “Love you too, Andy.”

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[evienyx]

DSMP Citizens POV- Part 1

I've seen a lot of the memes going around, but I'm not funny enough to write that, so here's my addition to the trend :p

This is part one, because I had a lot of fun with this and want to do it more.

- - -

DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

- - -

Sometimes, it was odd for the residents of the Dream SMP to be reminded of the fact that the constant state of chaos that their server was in was not, in fact, reflective of every server.

"Why did we move here?" One woman in Snowchester whispers to another as the sirens go off for yet another nuke test and they duck down into their bunker.

The other shrugs. She doesn't have an answer. No one does.

Things started out all right, the people supposed. There weren't any wars, at least. Some of those who lived on the server before the Revolution could remember back far enough to tell you about the first true conflict, between Dream, the creator of their home, and TommyInnit, a sixteen-year-old who could yell shockingly loud, even for a teenager. Dream fought against Tommy and Tubbo (yet another teenager), and it seemed to all be in good fun.

Some will tell you now, though, that the signs of tension were already there, and when Wilbur Soot joined, those tensions only escalated.

One moment, things on the server were normal, the next, there was a Revolution.

"Did anyone else hear Dream shouting about 'white flags' this morning?" One person would ask their friends, and receive nods in return. "Anyone know what it's about?"

"A Revolution," one would respond. "Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are starting a new country."

"Oh," the first would hum. "How long until they get completely crushed?"

"Eh, I give 'em a week."

It was only a week, but it did not end the way anyone thought it would. Instead, L'Manburg gained its independence after TommyInnit gave up his discs once he lost a duel with Dream.

"Is the L'Manburg cabinet missing someone?"

"No, I don't think so. Anyway, did you hear that Dream just declared that Eret is to be crowned king?"

"...Can he do that?"

"He's Dream. He can do whatever he wants."

After the Revolution, when the server finally had more than one ruling faction, more than one place to live, things seemed to pick up a bit. President Soot, with Vice President Innit (VP Tommy, the people called him), ruled over L'Manburg, and called it a place of freedom. When word spread to other servers, people came to see for themselves.

And often, they stayed.

It was peaceful, for a while.

"President Soot announced he's holding an election," one man said to his wife one day.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Said it was for democracy." The man snorted. "He and Innit are the only party running, though. Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me."

"Darling, I know you're still salty about losing the war, but there's no reason to talk bad about a child," his wife said.

The man wrinkled his nose. "Still."

It was peaceful during the campaign.

For a while.

Then, though, Quackity announced that he was running for president, with GeorgeNotFound, best friend of Dream himself, as his running mate.

"This feels like a sitcom," one girl says as she watches the debate reruns with her friends.

"At least it's entertaining," her friend replies, shoving popcorn into his mouth.

And, for the people of the Dream SMP, from both L'Manburg and the Greater SMP, it was entertaining.

Until the election results came in, Schlatt was declared the winner, and President Soot and VP Tommy were banished.

"Dude, dude!" One teen says to their friends, running up to meet them on the Prime Path.

"What is it?"

"I just saw Technoblade join the server!"

The arrival of the Blood God shifted something in the people of the Dream SMP. When he joined Pogtopia, the rebellion being led by the two ex-leaders of the country, the people felt something settle within themselves.

All of a sudden, choosing sides wasn't as simple as where you live.

It was what you care about.

As the son of the ex-president burned down the old flag, the people of the Dream SMP, of (L')Manburg and of the Greater SMP, realized suddenly that they had to make a choice.

Without even wanting to, without doing anything to deserve it, they would have to fight.

Some people went to Pogtopia, some stayed in Manburg, some in the Greater SMP. Those in the latter two stayed where they were because they wanted to stay out of it.

It didn't change anything, in the end.

In Manburg, they watched their president (Emperor) fall further and further into alcohol, yelling at his cabinet and talking of expanding into territory that they had no right to.

In the Greater SMP, murmurs of King Eret's attempts to assist the Pogtopia rebels filled the alleyways.

In Pogtopia, people sat and watched the decline of the man that they had all once believed in. As Wilbur Soot slowly devolved until he was no longer recognizable as the man who had once led people to freedom, the residents of Pogtopia ate potatoes farmed by a man famous for his bloodlust and pretended that they were sleeping somewhere warm.

The day of the Manburg Festival, though, things felt better. Other than ex-president Soot and ex-VP Tommy (Wilbur and Tommy, the two insisted. No one listened), everyone, even the rebels in Pogtopia, were invited to attend. The people wandered through the stalls playing games, watching as Soot's son attempted (in vain) to drown Technoblade, buying food, and chatting with people from other factions, friends and family that they hadn't spoken to in weeks.

When the time came for the speeches, before the true festivities were set to begin, everyone was feeling good about the day. People congratulated Secretary Tubbo for a successful event, and offered him small words of encouragement for his speech coming up. The teenager would grin at all who spoke to him, and looked (rightfully) proud of how well he organized and decorated the festival.

Secretary Tubbo gave his speech, and people clapped, and then fell silent as President (Emperor) Schlatt laughed, asked for his Vice-President's assistance, and encased the teenager in a cage of concrete.

And then he called Technoblade to the stage.

And then, in front of the people of the Dream SMP, a teenager was executed in a spray of color that shot toward the sky.

Fireworks rained down on the people in the stands, then, and, regardless of where they were from, the people of the Dream SMP ran.

The Pogtopia ranks grew that day, and a nineteen-year-old who claimed to be a doctor without showing any credentials forced four other people to help her heal VP Tommy after he fought Technoblade in a pit, egged on by a man who once might have called himself his brother.

"How is this kid not dead yet?" One of the helpers asked, looking at the unconscious teenager's face.

"Pure spite?"

The first hummed. "Sounds about right."

One day, a bit after the festival, the people of Pogtopia woke to find Vice President Quackity walking through the ravine as if he owned the place.

One resident was noted to rub his eyes, blink three times, and then say, "It's too early for this shit," before heading back to bed.

A surprising number of people followed his lead.

Finally, the day of November 16th came, when Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit vowed to take their country back.

"I heard President Soot is planning to blow up L'Manburg," one Pogtopian woman mentioned to her friend as they suited up and prepared to fight, as they had signed up to be part of the forces.

"That's stupid," her friend replied.

"Bet you ten diamonds he blows something up."

"Fine."

As the country of L'Manburg blew sky-high, one woman was seen following another, screaming that she wanted her diamonds.

When Pogtopia won the war, the forces from both sides sat outside of the remains of the van as President Soot, VP Tommy, Secretary Tubbo, Dream, Technoblade, and many more, all piled inside to confront Emperor Schlatt.

They emerged fifteen minutes later, and Dream announced to the crowd that Schlatt was dead.

There was no time for the news to sink in, as they played hot potato with the presidency, going from VP Tommy to Wilbur Soot to Secretary Tubbo.

"President Soot is leaving, do you see that?"

"Probably going to the river to celebrate the win, if you know what I mean."

"Literally shut up. Never speak again. I hate you."

As the newly-inaugurated President Tubbo finished his speech, the people felt a wave of relief wash over them. Maybe the server could finally be peaceful once more.

Then, there was the tell-tale hiss of explosives under their feet, and the people ran as the ground beneath them fell away.

Stories of what happened next are conflicting, to say the least.

Words of President Soot dying in the explosion, of him turning the blade on himself, of another man killing him.

"He had wings," people who saw the man said. "Blonde hair, a green hat and robes. He stabbed Soot with the guy's own sword."

Technoblade apparently gave an incredible speech, and anyone who was there to witness it lamented that they hadn't recorded it.

Then, two Withers flew through the sky, and blood ran down the newly-exposed stones, and people who had never experienced death on the server before finally knew what it was like to die.

Afterward, though, when the anarchist had fled and the ex-President lay dead, President Tubbo, with VP Tommy by his side, stood and addressed the people, and made promises of a brighter future, and the hope and determination in his eyes was enough for the people to hope that maybe he was right.

("Whoa, cool wings, dude," a resident of L'Manburg said to their newest neighbor, a man in green with wings, burned across all the feathers, sprouting from his back. "Wait, what happened to them?"

"Oh, I was protecting my son from the explosion," the new resident replied.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Is your son all right at least?"

"No, he died just a few minutes afterward. His last life, too." The man sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it, he probably deserved it."

A beat. "What did he do?"

"Well, you may have heard of him. Wilbur Soot? He was the president here before Schlatt, I believe."

"...Holy shit, you're the bird man that killed President Soot!"

"Yeah, mate, that's me."

"...He was your son?"

"...Yeah."

"...What the fuck is wrong with your family?")

[p---ink]

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though. 

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems. 

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self) 

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it. 

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.” 

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.” 

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch. 

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.��� She declared. 

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.” 

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker,  after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath. 

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her. 

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present. 

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered. 

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been. 

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words. 

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep. 

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat. 

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him. 

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case. 

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her.  “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels,  and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since  Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious. 

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain. 

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car. 

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat. 

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable. 

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification. 

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl. 

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question. 

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted. 

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long. 

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt. 

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained. 

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips. 

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing. 

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all. 

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield. 

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her. 

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?” 

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him. 

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one. 

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.  

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous. 

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked. 

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment. 

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.” 

“Say please.” He teased. 

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied. 

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him. 

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin. 

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans. 

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties. 

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat. 

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member. 

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down. 

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her. 

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue. 

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there. 

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin. 

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him.  She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips. 

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her. 

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky. 

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her. 

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core. 

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.  

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried. 

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest,  becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better. 

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm. 

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her. 

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her. 

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny. 

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence. 

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue. 

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined. 

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window. 

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure. 

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning. 

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried. 

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button. 

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers. 

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say. 

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone. 

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip. 

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life. 

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair. 

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed. 

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake. 

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came. 

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. 

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat. 

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high. 

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly.  “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.” 

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them. 

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin. 

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare. 

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. 

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?”  She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop. 

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.” 

 A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error. 

[cvtqr]

we only have 15 minutes, sugar

pairings; eren jaeger x reader

content warning; mentions of past jean x reader, oral sex, masturbation, recording, manhandling?

february 19th

you always found eren jaeger attractive, especially tonight at this party. his long hair thrown up into a messy bun, his white shirt with water split on it - making it see through. god you were about to start counting his abs. but who you were really here for? jean. you guys weren’t in a relationship or anything, just friends who liked to help eachother. it started off when you guys would go to eachother for advice or he would find himself in your dorm room ranting to you. just helping eachother with little problems of course. that doesn’t mean sucking his dick was that much of a stretch from it, right?

anyways jean was in a frat house, along side eren. they were throwing a party, and somehow jean convinced you to stop by. you didn’t know if you were regretting it or not. jean was no where to be seen so you just sat yourself on the kitchen counter drinking some punch you found in a bowl. you were admiring eren from a far, remembering all the bad things jean had said about him. how he just annoys the living shit out of him. but god, how attractive he was. you could’ve sworn you looked down at your phone for not even a minute when you heard someone clear their voice right in front of you. you looked up to be met with eren.

“uh hi?”

“hey hey! erm- y/n. we had physics last semester together. eren, eren yeager.”

yeah, i already know your name

“oh hi!”

“my friend reiner over there says he knows ‘ya too. wanna come play truth or dare with us in the backyard hm?”

slipping your phone into the pocket of your shorts, you jumped off the counter, centimeters away from eren.

he let out a low chuckle, placing his hands on the counter, trapping you inbetween the granite and himself. he looked you right in the eye before reaching one of his hands back to grab a chip in the bowl behind where you were sitting. your breathing shakened a bit and you rolled your eyes at him, looking down.

he let out another chuckle before grabbing your chin and tilting it up, forcing you to look at him. “no need to roll your eyes sugar. if you were expectin-wanting something else, just say it. i’m not a mind reader baby.” he gave you a little wink before letting you go and backing up.

“i erm- i gotta pee i’ll meet you guys outside.”

he gave you a small head pat before running towards the back door.

right when you turned around to head to the bathroom you crashed right into jean, stumbling back a bit.

“oh hey jean!”

he sent you a blunt hey and started walking to the back door with an annoyed look on his face.

tch, what’s his problem.

your little bathroom excuse wasn’t actually an exuse, the amount of punch you were drinking finally caught up to you. right after you sat down your two best friends since birth, sasha and connie came bursting through the door, hysterically cracking up.

“YOO IM TRYING TO PISS.”

ignoring your comment they both collapsed onto the counter laughing their asses off.

you lightly smacked sasha on the back of her head, since she was the laughing the closest to you. “i swear if one of you idiots don’t tell me what the problem is-”

“YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE OUTSITE FIGHTING OVER YOU-” connie said between laughs practically screaming.

“my who?”

“JEAN AND EREN. I-I ASKED FLOCH WHY THEY WERE FIGHTING AND THEY SAID IT WAS BECAUSE OF YOU AND HOW JEAN IS ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT HOW YOU ARE SO GOOD AT SU-”

“GOD SASHA YOU DONT HAVE TO TELL HER THAT PART”

“CAN YOU GUYS STOP SCREAMING!”

“SORRY, sorry y/n. apparently jean saw you and eren in the kitchen and well, tried beating eren up.”

letting out a sigh you pulled up your pants and ran out of the bathroom.

running outside you found jean knocked out in the arms of marco and eren standing up, wiping some blood out of the corner of his mouth while winking at you. walking right up to him you slapped him right across the face.

he let out a deep, long chuckle.

“i need to talk to you.”

“lead the way sugar.”

you grabbed his arm and pulled him inside while feeling every single pair of eyes on you.

“where’s your room.”

“if you wanted to get me in bed you could’ve just asked baby.”

god can anyone be that full of themselves

“no - no. i don-”

“i’m just joking sugar. follow me.”

he grabbed your hand and led you up into his room, closing the door behind him.

“what the hell was that all about.”

“for the record he started it. he got jealous for no reason and i wasn’t going to let him use me and his rag doll. and you shouldn’t be with someone like jean anyway. you should hear the way he brags about you being his bitch whenever the house is hanging out.” eren plopped down onto his bed

with that you didn’t know who to be mad at this point. he patted his lap signaling you to come over and sit on it. ignoring him you rolled your eyes and sat down next to him, causing him to chuckle again.

“you should clean your wounds that looks pretty deep on your cheek. and take a shower you smell like dirt and grass.”

he got up and headed over to his bathroom door. leaning on the door frame he turned back around.

“only if you stay.”

“hmph, i’ll think about it.”

15 minutes later eren walked out of the bathroom. you were no where to be found. he did know that he’d get back to you one day, considering you left your phone number on a gum wrapper in place of where you were sitting.

february 26

friday strolled around as quick as ever. this week you talked to eren a few times. he texted you on sunday night to have a good week. sicne he was being nice you replied with a “you too:’)”

after that he texted you yesterday afternoon asking if you wanted to come to another party. you never responded, and now it’s friday, 2:05. you just finished all your classes, and you’d be lying if you said you had anything else to do. well except for the pile of homework you usually wait until sunday to do.

sighing you texted him back saying you already had plans and wouldn’t be able to make it. after that you decided to take a short nap. what you thought would be a short nap turned into you sleeping until 6:30. you figured you should get up and get some dinner. you decided to grub hub some taco bell and eat it in the dinning hall. after getting your food you sat down in the corner of the room. it was pretty empty since it was pretty late for dinner.

“ouch, i’m offended.”

you turned around at the familiar voice

“even jean could convince you to come out but i get some lame exuse.”

“it, it wasn’t an exuse. i do have plans.”

“yeah with yourself.” he pulled over a nearby chair and sat next to you.

“i ditched the party, it was pretty boring.”

“so you came to bother me?” you said while still stuffing your face with your food

“yeah pretty much, you wanna hangout?”

“i mean do i really have a choice?”

he leaned over and grabbed one of your nachos, shoving it in his face.

“no not really sugar.”

rolling your eyes you threw out your garbage and led him to your dorm room. since it wasn't that far of a walk, neither of you said anything on the way there. he just simply followed you. 

once you got into your room you shut the door behind you. 

“if you’re sitting on my bed then shoes off.”

“demanding” he said while slipping his shoes off and plopping onto your bed

“soo..” he said as you sat down next to him.

“wanna watch a movie or something? i see you have a tv in here.”

“sure, let me just fix my blankets so get up.”

he nodded and chuckled, getting up. you pulled down your comforter so there was room to get in, and threw all your blankets into the corner before grabbing your remote and slipping into your bed.

“is this an invitation to come lay with you under your blankets.”

“shut the light.” you said while pressing power on the remote. 

the last thing you remember from that night was cracking up with eren over some stupid movie the two of you put on. before you knew it you woke up with a tight grip around your waist. you look over to see eren, still sound asleep. he was so pretty. you figured the two of you just fell asleep while watching movies yesterday. moments like these you were grateful your roommate was on back at home for family issues.

you tried slipping out of his grip before he pulled you back in and groaned. he was still sleeping so you figured you weren't getting up anytime soon, so you closed your eyes and drifted off back to sleep. you woke up about two hours later to find no eren, but a note.

forgot i have to work on a project with floch. i had fun last night, lets do it again soon :)

you were in a good mood the rest of the day. 

may 15 

its almost been four months since you've met eren. you also cut off your contact with jean. he was a good fuck while it lasted. over the last four months you and eren got closer than ever. hanging out almost everyday, going to parties together, falling asleep cuddling every weekend, you name it. yet again, friday came around. instead of cuddling, you and eren decided to go to a party at some sorority house. 

three hours later you were sitting in a circle with a bunch of people you recognized / were friends with. you were all playing a game of truth or dare, cracking up at each other. everyone’s secrets were coming out and people were doing some crazy things. and the list of things we had to do on campus was piling up. for example, connie has to pull a prank on professor ackerman during class on monday. until it was sasha’s time to ask you.

“hmmm. OH Y?N! truth or dare babes!”

you really had to think this one over. sasha had the power of exposing every single one of your secrets if you picked truth, but she's also kind of crazy so who knows what she would dare you to do. after a small debate in your head you went with dare.

“i pick dare.”

“alright! hmmMMM. i dare you to go into an empty room with eren for 15 minutes.”

you felt the heat rush up to your cheeks when you stood up and stretched your arm out for eren to grab. 

you both left the living room and headed up to a room while hearing the small, faint giggles from your friends.

entering the room eren shut and locked the door behind the two of you.

“so.. what do you wanna do?”

“hmm. we only have 15 minutes, sugar.”

this is it. the moment you've been waiting for. you had eren right in front of you. just go up and kiss him already! 

as you slowly walked up closer to him. he flipped the both of you, pinning you up against the wall. 

“let me see if you taste as sweet as I've imagined, sugar. pleaseee you don't even want to know the amount of times I've fisted myself to the mere thought of it.”

you gave him a nod and that was all he needed to pull you off the wall and push you down onto the bed. pulling up your skirt and pulling down your panties, he grimly smirked. 

“don't you dare cum without my permission.” was all he said before going between your legs and flicking his tongue onto your clit. your breathing quickly became heavy and irregular before he shoved two fingers, palm deep into your cunt. 

“ahh~ f-fuck eren-” you blurted out while starting to move under his touch, slightly bucking your hips up. 

that was until you felt a strong pair of hands hold your hips down. 

“stop moving or i’ll stop.” he hissed out before going back down on you, eating you out more forcefully than before, brining you right to your climax.

“f-fuck eren i need to cum- please let me cum. pleaseee~”

“no.” he said while pulling his fingers out of you.

“the only place you’re cummin’ is on my cock. you hear me?”

you wiped away the slight tears forming in the corners of your eye while nodding.

“that's a good little girl.” eren said while smirking

he swiftly grabbed you and flipped you over onto all fours, while shoving your face into the mattress. your first reaction was to perk your ass up for him.

“well someones eager aren't they.” was all he said before pulling down his pants just enough for his fully hard cock to spring out. he could've came just to the feeling of eating you out. 

he leaned down into your ear while whispering, “as sweet as sugar.” he started jacking off while still leaning down, before quickly cumming all over your ass. 

did he just?

he pulled up his pants before getting up and heading up towards the door. 

“well sugar, looks like our time is almost up. we should get back to the ga-” he was cut off by you running up to him and clinging right onto his shirt. practically crying you were blurting out small no’s.

“f-fuck the game, er - eren please just fuck me.” you were so desperate to the point where you were choking on your words. 

“aw, i’m sorry baby i didn't mean to make you cry.” he said while stroking your hair and patting your head. “come suck me off in my car and maybe if you do a good job i'll take ya home and fuck you, yeah?

may 18

sitting in your first class of the morning you were bored out of your mind. getting some lecture from professor ackerman after connie drew all over his desk.

that was until you got a snapchat notification from eren. opening it you were oh so grateful you had your headphones in. it was a video of eren cumming all over his laptop with a video of him shoving his cock oh so deep into your pretty little cunt. 

with the caption of missin’ the taste, sugar :’(

you’d be sure to pay him a visit during your lunch break.

[my-ceiling-is-scuffed]

Art Fight Writing Challenge 2

Finally got my second piece done! The magnificent @blunky gifted me some kickass Zaida art, and I concocted a fun little introduction to the character by way of one of my favorite scenes she's involved in. Read on ;)

Having a potluck with a bunch of criminals was not on Zaida’s list of preferred ways to spend a Saturday night. Life, it seemed, had other plans.

She shoved a bowl of rice pudding into the flat’s crowded fridge, and slammed the door shut before anything could topple out. Behind her, Legacy dragged an office chair towards the dining room. Zaida had no clue how many people he was expecting to show up, but any more than three people in the cramped space was too many for her taste. And technically four lived here in total.

Rain, the sanest of Olliver’s roommates, was drifting around tidying up. Or, at least, that’s what Zaida first assumed. She watched the woman dump every remote, mouse, keyboard, phone, and handheld radio she could find into the bottom drawer of Ollie’s desk. Rain turned, and noticed Zaida’s confused gaze.

“Oh! You don’t happen to have your phone on you, do you? I can stick in it with everything else. Y’know,” Rain winced apologetically, “for safekeeping?”

“Why-”

“Not to say that anyone coming tonight is untrustworthy, but they certainly have sticky fingers. I usually lock up anything tempting when I’m given a heads up,” Rain explained.

“You’re inviting burglars to a house party?” Zaida knew deep down she shouldn’t be surprised at this point. She also fumbled her phone out of her pocket.

“Look at it this way,” Rain accepted the device, “They’re very, very good at some things we need done pretty frequently. Obviously their contributions have been weighed against the. . . collateral.” Rain dropped Zaida’s phone into the drawer, and snatched a combination lock off the desk. “Besides, it would be rude to not invite them.”

“I’d say larceny’s a fair bit ruder,” Zaida scoffed.

“Maybe so.” Rain gave her a beleaguered smile and snapped the lock closed.

“This whole party is ridiculous.”

“It’s not a party, just a dinner. Imagine how miserable it’d be if we only got together to talk business. Surely your fancy secret academy taught you the value of morale.”

“Yeah, and they also mentioned something about not fraternizing with violent criminals,” Zaida muttered. She leaned against the kitchen counter. Rain just shook her head and tucked a wild strand of blonde hair back behind her pointed ear.

“Y’know, talk like that is why I have to keep convincing Legacy to let you hang around.”

Zaida blinked. It hadn’t occurred to her that her continued presence at the apartment was up for so much debate. Nor that anyone other than Ollie would speak in her defense. Zaida let herself be a little reassured by the ally she evidently had in Rain.

“I- yeah. Sorry.” She cleared her throat. Rain smiled and clapped a hand to her shoulder.

“I know you’re having a tough time. Thanks for coming anyway. Legacy needs some time to adjust to new people, and Ollie will come around too. Tonight’s a great chance to prove you can get along. If you can’t relax and have fun, at least be tactical.”

“Mhm.” Rain couldn’t have been too much older than Zaida, but she spoke with an authority that made Zaida feel childish in comparison.

Legacy strode into the room and began rifling through the silverware drawer.

“Do we think we trust Kestral enough to use the good stuff, or should I just dig out the plastic?” he asked.

“As I recall it,” Rain grinned, “the last time they were here, they called our glassware ‘cute’ and ‘like a little playset, but for adults’ before rambling to Lyric about the market for illegal china for half an hour while they played catch with the dishes instead of washing them.”

“Okay, first, they absolutely were washing the dishes. And Lyric was drying. Second, point taken. Although maybe we should just use plastic anyway to escape a lesson on valuable fork metals.” Legacy squinted contemplatively into the drawer before grabbing a fistful of cutlery and ducking back into the dining room.

Zaida wondered if it was too late to revoke her RSVP.

The doorbell buzzed.

“Speak of the devil, probably,” Rain giggled. She stepped over to the front door, checked the door cam, and shifted the deadbolt.

The door swung open. The kid who tottered into the room was not at all what Zaida had been expecting. They were short and well-dressed, with a smile that set Zaida on edge and a huge casserole dish balanced precariously in the crook of one arm. She figured they weren’t much older than 20. This was someone who should be studying for a career, not following Legacy Byrnes’s example.

“Here, let me get that for you.” Rain took the dish and led the kid into the apartment. “Zaida, this is Kestral Torres. Kestral, Zaida Loch.”

“Hi,” Kestral extended a hand.

“Um, yes. Hello.” Zaida reluctantly engaged the handshake. She was resisting the urge to make for the hand sanitizer in her purse when she realized the right sleeve of Kestral’s blazer seemed largely empty. A twinge of concern pulled in Zaida’s chest. She quickly looked anywhere else.

“So. . . what’s your deal?” Kestral raised an eyebrow. Their gaze was intense and inquisitive. It made Zaida uneasy.

“Er-” she began.

“Sticking her nose in other people’s business,” Ollie remarked bitterly. He emerged from the dining room with Legacy in tow. Zaida scowled.

“I,” she huffed, “am a software developer. And responsible for making sure certain people stay out of trouble. Despite their best efforts.” She shot Olliver a pointed look. He rolled his eyes. She wished, not for the first time, that Ollie hadn’t been quite so quick to figure out backtalk. Or sarcasm. Or annoyance.

“Right.” Kestral clearly only bothered to ponder Zaida and Ollie’s relationship for a few seconds before shooting a grin at Legacy. “And how are things with you?”

“Oh, terrible,” Legacy mused. “But I’d feel bad complaining at you. Until you’re two-handed again, at least.”

Kestral cackled and grabbed a chip from the bowl Rain had begun filling. Zaida hung back while the room fell into playful banter. She wasn’t cut out for dinner parties. It didn’t help that half the people in the room would be happier without her around. Her wallowing was interrupted by the crawl of eyes on her.

Lyric was standing not two inches away, head cocked and eyes trained on her. Zaida nearly jumped out of her skin. She inhaled deeply, trying to settled her nerves. If Kestral’s wild-eyed stare was disconcerting, Lyric’s was a thousand times worse. Zaida gave him a half-hearted smile, hoping silently that he’d move on and leave her alone.

Instead, the doorbell buzzed again.

Lyric returned her smile with a genuine leer. Zaida could never tell if he was messing with her or not, but Lyric had a way of ensuring she always felt like the butt of some cosmically intricate joke. She watched him scurry to get the door, and took to polishing her spectacles nervously.

“Evening, folks!” A loud, deep voice reverberated in the small apartment. Zaida’s blood turned to ice.

The man in the doorway was short and burly, wrapped in a large, dark overcoat, and carrying an enormous duffel bag on his back. He had a grin like a mad man, missing a tooth. His jewelry, assorted rings and a chain around his neck, was wildly mismatched. His hair stood on end. He was clearly exactly the sort of company Legacy Byrnes would keep.

He was also clearly Giles Winsett.

Zaida was barely listening when Rain made an attempt at introductions. It was all she could do to stay on her feet.

“Um, Zaida?” Rain asked. When no answer came, she let her concerned eyes drift back to Giles. “Sorry, she’s not usually like this.”

“Ah, no big deal, lady,” The knowing look Winsett shot Zaida brought the panic in her chest to a boil. “Can’t be easy trying to keep up with us, hey?” His jovial grin returned.

“Is it food time or what?” Legacy slid his arm off Giles's shoulder.

“I could eat,” Kestral declared.

“You lot get settled, I need a sec to get these boots off.” Giles shrugged off his bag. The others filtered into the dining room.

When Zaida moved to join them, a large hand planted itself firmly onto her shoulder.

“Plus, I think perhaps you and I should have a little chat. One on one, y’know?” His voice was quieter, more gravelly. For the first time in a while, Zaida genuinely feared for her life.

True to his word, Giles took a knee to begin fighting with the knots in his bootlaces.

“I swear, I won’t say anything,” Zaida stammered. “P-please.”

“Relax,” Winsett grumbled. “I’m just making sure we’re on the same page.”

“You’re still alive. Even after-”

“Don’t.” His interruption was hoarse. Zaida was convinced she’d uttered her last words. He stood slowly, but sighed and ran a hand over his face when he noticed her obvious terror. “Good fucking grief.” Winsett sighed. The sorrow in his voice surprised Zaida. “You’ve been reading too many tabloids.”

“I- What?”

“Listen,” Winsett pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just. Leave that whole fiasco in the past where it belongs, alright?” His voice broke. Zaida struggled to reconcile her fear with a rush of sympathy. For Giles Winsett. What was even real anymore?

“So, I’m just supposed to pretend-”

“Yes. Please. Pretend, ignore, lie, whatever you want.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Giles kicked his boots off.

“I’m serious. I’ve read your research. It’s genius. You could’ve been-”

“A pawn. In a game of chess no one should be playing in the first place. The shit she was planning was untenable. Had to be done.”

“Who’s ‘she’?”

“End.” Winsett met her eyes with a cold look. “Of. Discussion.”

“So none of them know?” Zaida scrambled out of the way as he brushed past her toward the dining room.

“Some do, some don’t, and I’m not leaving that up to your discretion. What’s done is done. No sense in unpacking a closet full of skeletons at the dinner table.”

“I. . .” Zaida trailed off. She didn’t know what to think. Already, the fact that there was more to Giles Winsett than she expected had made room for her curiosity to creep in. Standing in front of her was the primary source of a life time, the chance to finally talk to someone who could keep up with her without protocols or superstition getting in the way. Zaida could never live with herself if she didn’t at least try to get along. To get answers. “I’m sorry,” she said. “My lips are sealed. I promise.”

“G-good.” Winsett seemed taken aback.

“I’m Zaida Loch, by the way. Big fan of your work. The, uh, earlier work, that is.”

“Right.” Giles turned to leave. She followed.

Maybe Ollie was onto something with these people after all.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here!

A/N: If I had to give this part a title, I would title it “(Y/N) and their human friends” Also I lied. This part was too long so it might be another part (or two) before we get to the Bella Arc.

* “You know you would be pretty good looking without the glasses.” Lauren says twirling a strand of hair and ignoring the algebra worksheet in front of her.

* Yeah that’s kind of the whole point

* “Contacts kind of freak me out.”

* You’re expecting a snarky response but instead she nods.

* “It’s the whole sticking your finger in your eye thing right, I totally get that.” She’s watching you with such inquisitive eyes, it almost you uncomfortable.

* It’s been a few months since you started school, you’re almost at thanksgiving break. So far you feel like you’ve assimilated well, and you have a good balance between school and caring for your animals, but it’s situations like this that totally throw you off.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what did you get for number 5?” Jessica asks, you’re thankful for the distraction.

* “I got X = 8” Jessica confirms she got that too, and moves onto the next one

* You three are in the worlds most unlikely group. You didn’t even know Lauren was in this class you usually just pair up with Jessica.

* “Hey, me and a some people from the volleyball team are going to Port Angeles, you should come with, we could give you a makeover.”

*You wonder what the other angle here is

* It didn’t take long for you to realise that somehow, even with the ugly-duckling routine, the Cullen’s were at the top of the social hierarchy.

* Part of their popularity was probably because they didn’t really seem to interact with anyone outside of their own social circle. Which just made them all the more desirable.

* “I don’t know Lauren, I would have to ask Esme if it’s okay.” Though you can already bet Rosalie isn’t going to like this.

* “Oh cool, just let me know!” Lauren smiles, it turns out the act of considering her invitation was enough to placate her.

* For once you’re actually glad Edward’s waiting for you outside of your class when the bell rings.

* “Edward read that girls mind.”

* “It’s always straight to business isn’t it. No, ‘hi Edward how’s it going?’ Or ‘How was your class, how has your morning been treating you?’ It wouldn’t hurt you to make some small talk” You give him a look, and he returns it with an expectant expression. You sigh.

* “Hi, Edward how was your class?” You plaster on a smile, and he returns with a smile of his own.

* “It was fine. A little repetitive, we’re reading “to kill a mocking bird” in English.” You nod, offering a consoling pat on the shoulder

* “That sounds super boring,” the books great and all, but you’re guessing he’s already read it like 30 times by now. “Hey Edward,”

* “Yes (Y/N),” He nods, hiding his grin behind his hand.

* “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

* “Of course, anything for you.” He grins openly now.

* “Would you mind telling me what that girl Lauren Mallory is thinking so I can know why she invited me,” and not Jessica her good friend. “to hang out?”

* Edward loses his smile.

* “The varsity members on the volleyball team suggested it, they think it’s a shame they couldn’t have got you on the team since you just moved here.”

* Unexpected but not the worst. You’ve really been half assing it in PE so you’re surprised they even want you.

* “Lauren-she thinks you could be-“ a lopsided smirk twitches onto his face. “in her words- ‘two super good looking best friends’ “

*oh. So she just wants a pretty b*tch squad?

* “Maybe I’ll go with them then” you were scared they were going to force you to show them the Cullen’s house and introduce you to everyone, or leave you stranded in port A as some kind of prank or something.

* Edward stops you

*“you can’t be serious” he has his eyebrows scrunched together

* “Why not?” Nothing more natural to fitting in then hanging out with your classmates. Unless- “if you’re worried about any accidents don’t, I know they all look healthy but they eat a lot of carbs. Way too starchy for my palette.”

* “It’s not that-“ he gets that brooding-existence is suffering look. “You shouldn’t trust humans too much, they’ll let you down.”

* Well what’s that supposed to mean, but before you can ask he’s already walking to his class.

* Well whatever, at least Emmett will tell you a good joke to take your mind off of Mr. Eternal Damnations ominous words.

* Too bad when you get inside he’s not here, instead Mike Newton perks up when you walk into the room.

* “Hey Eleazar, how’s it going?” You still have a hard time adjusting to use Eleazar’s name as your own. Apparently they came from a time when last names were only for nobles, so he offered you his first name instead.

* “Hey Newton, any plans for this weekend?” You take Edward’s advice and start with small talk. Mike Newton smiles, you guess he’s kinda cute, all soft cheeks and baby blue eyes

* “No I’m completely free!” Weird how he’s so enthusiastic about being alone, he must be one of those “relish time alone” types. Good for him.

* “Everyone needs some time alone sometimes.” He deflates, oh man you guess that’s the wrong thing to say.

* He looks like he wants to say something to you, but then Emmett sits beside you.

* “Can I have a swig from your water bottle?” You hand it over

* “Making out with Rosalie make you thirsty?” Emmett cracks a grin

* “It’s that whole bookworm-soccer mom get up, it gets to me yknow?” That’s actually pretty funny

* “So what she’s the Velma to your Freddy?” When the reference doesn’t sink in you rephrase “the nerd to your jock.” He grins again.

* “I think I might join the swim team just so I can see her wear my letterman” that’s actually pretty cute

* “You should do that, I’ll cheer you on at your swim meets” Emmett grins.

*”I’ll hold you to that”

* School life goes on like it always has.

* Weeks pass, marked by tests, homework assignments and projects.

* You actually kind of become friends with Angela, Lauren, Jessica, Connor and Mike.

* “So like, are you and Cullen close?” Mike asks. You and the group are over at Tyler’s house using his fire pit to roast marshmallows. The others are invested in another conversation but you can tell by Lauren’s subtle head tilt that she’s eavesdropping.

* “Which one?” Mike gets flustered at that

* “The one in our grade.”

* “Hmm, well I’d say Alice and I are kinda close, but-“

* “N-no not her,” he clears his throat. “The other one-Edward”

* “Oh, Edward’s my best friend.” The answer slips out automatically.

* “I-Is that why you’re staying with the Cullen’s?” Jessica asks. Everyone’s blatantly listening now, the only one who seems uncomfortable is Angela.

* You sigh. You know everyone at school is probably wondering about the weird relationship. Jessica’s just the only one brave enough to ask you.

* “I mean, it might be.” You’re sure, Edward’s friendship with you is the reason everyone was so quick to accept the living arrangement. “But I actually met Car-I mean Dr. Cullen before I met the others.”

* “How does that work?” It’s Connor who pipes in this time.

* “Well-“ you sigh you really don’t want to do this but at least your sob story will make you seem less suspicious. “So Eleazer and Carmen, they’re my parents, but they’re not my birth parents.”

* You tell them how your parents passed away in an accident many years ago, and how Carlisle had been your Doctor at the time while you recovered. He worked with you for a long time, and you’re pretty sure he wanted to adopt you, but the agency liked Carmen and Eleazer better, probably because Carlisle already had so many adopted kids.

* “Still, Carlisle stayed in my life as my doctor and a family friend. Then I met Edward and the rest of the Cullen’s and... the rest is history...I guess.” You’ve found it’s best to mix a little bit of truth into the lie, though really all of that was mostly what happened.

* Everyone looks testy eyed, Angela is holding back tears, and Lauren hastily wipes her away so no one can see. You wonder if maybe your powers leaked out a bit while you were telling your story.

* “Dude... you’re so strong.” Tyler claps a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a hug.

* “Ah, it all happened a long time ago, I’m mostly over it now” You tell them all about your Coven in Denali, and how you have two families now, how you don’t regret anything. Well, the only thing you regret, is not staying human, but you can’t mention that so you fake a smile instead.

* Connor breaks out a bottle of vodka he stole from his mom, and pours a shot for everyone

* “To (Y/N)” everyone raises their glass, and not for the first time you feel the urge to cry but no tears escape you.

* You’re a lot closer to everyone after that. You even start sitting at their lunch table every so often.

* In fact the others follow your lead and assimilate with their classmates with ease. Rosalie joins the school book club, and very loudly debates Jane Austen’s to whoever will listen.

* Emmett follows through and joins the swim team. Jasper starts hanging out with some wood shop kids, you’ve caught him arguing about the superior wood in between classes with his new friends. Even Alice joins the art club.

* You try out for the dance/cheer team, it’s the only thing you don’t have to hold back in. Also you’re a great base, you could hold everyone on the team up single handedly during stunts. But you won’t know if you made it until summer vacation

* Everyone seems to be assimilating well, everyone except for Edward

* “You can’t expect me to trust these people (Y/N), not when I know everything they’re really thinking.” You roll your eyes

* “I’m not saying you have to be their best friend Eddie, I’m just saying it looks super suspicious that all the Cullen’s only hang out with each other and refuse to get to know anyone else.” You shove a text book into his chest, and he scoffs

* “It wouldn’t hurt to make some small talk.”

* And so Edward joins your group of human friends, much to the joy of your female companions and dismay of your male ones.

* Life is still strange. But it’s good.

* When you’re surrounded by your new friends, it makes you feel - almost like you’re human again

* And then everything falls apart.

* It’s almost summer vacation. You’re excited, maybe you can go to the beach again soon, and you wonder if it will be alright to take a trip to Denali to see your Coven. You’re pretty confident you made the spirit squad so you’ll have to pencil in camp somewhere. You held back, but just enough by your own parameters to make the bottom end of Varsity.

* You’re at your locker, when Rosalie, and Edward show up. Quickly followed by Emmett, Jasper and Alice.

* “Oh hey guys, you wanna go on a hike tomorrow it’s supposed-“

* “You have to leave.” You’re surprised when it’s Emmett that says this. Kind, jovial Emmett holds a grave expression.

* “What, why-“ for a second you wonder if the Volturi has finally come to get you. It’s been at least seven years since your transformation, it’s about time they started thinking about you.

* But then you notice everyone staring, the quiet buzz of phones vibrating only detected by your super hearing. People are always staring, especially when you’re all together. but this time you notice they’re not staring at the six super models gathered in front of the lockers.

* They’re staring at you.

* “There’s a video of you going around,” Jasper says, and Rosalie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

* He hands you his blackberry, and the grainy image of you come into focus.

* It’s a YouTube video

* You’re in the locker room, your (Your Color Skin) in full view under the fluorescent lights. You’re wearing your underwear, and your abs are on full display. You’re Grey PE uniform shirt is limp in your hands, you remember this, you got extra laps as a penalty and as a result, you were running late for class, you were alone in the locker room

*well you thought you were alone.

* Your body is literally perfect, the way you’ve always dreamed, but you feel white hot shame rise in your throat like acid.

* Your hands shake as you scroll down to see the comments

* ‘Damn who knew they had a body like that under those dorky sweaters’

* ‘(Y/N) Eleazar: Best body Forks HS 10/10 would f*ck’

* ‘Hot body, if only they ditched the glasses, and started wearing some tighter shirts’

* And the comments go on, there’s at least a hundred. You hold your cardigan a little closer to your body. You don’t have the courage to turn around. You can already imagine them staring at you, picturing what they saw in the video transposed onto your body

* “I’m sorry, I didn’t see this coming until it was already happening-“ Alice touches your shoulder and continues her apology but you don’t hear anything.

* You want to cry, you want to be angry. But all you feel is shame. And the worst part is, you didn’t even do anything wrong. So why do you feel so ashamed?

* “Hey, look at me.” Edward grabs your face in his hands, your amber eyes meet his.

*”Snap out of it.”

* Oh, your powers are leaking through.

*Your gaze turns to your foster family, all of whom sport equally uncomfortable expressions.

* You take a deep breath, and imagine reeling in your emotions, imagining them receding back into a locked box, just like Eleazer taught you.

* You need a calm mind right now.

* “Are you fine now?” Edward asks, his hands still on your face. You nod, resting your hand on top of his

* “I’m good.”

* “Good, because we have to get you out of here.” He’s moved his hand to your arm, about to tug you back home when you pull back and shake your head.

* “We can’t do that.”

* “What do you mean?” Rosalie hisses, her hand curls around your wrist “we have to leave NOW.”

* “No think about it, they’re right.” Jasper says, his eyes meeting yours. At least someone’s on the same oage

* “Think about it Rose, if I leave now with all of you it’s going to look weird.” Normal 15-17 year olds wouldn’t think to handle the situation on their own, especially not entitled rich kids like the Cullen’s.

*She seems to have gotten it because her hand retreats to her side.

* “Well what should we do then, I’m not letting you walk around here with everyone-“ she cuts herself off, a deep frown creasing onto her face as her teeth dig into her bottoms lip.

* “We need to call Carlisle or Esme, they’ll pretend they saw the video from someone else and file a complaint with the school.” You take a deep breath, and imagine the locked box in your mind. Your emotions held carefully within.

* “Until then we all need to pretend like it’s not a big deal.”

* “No way in hell am I doing that!” Emmett growls. “I’m going to rip that fucking peeping Tom piece by piece.”

* “Not all of us need to pretend,” Alice says, her gaze somewhere far away, flicking between futures. “Only Edward, Rosalie and I do.” Her gaze lands on you.

* “You need to go to your class like normal,” a hint of a smile curls onto her mouth. “Everything’s going to work out fine.” Edward’s focusing on Alice, reliving her vision.

* “Do you think you can manage being alone?” Edward asks, you don’t have the next class with any of the Cullen’s. You’ll be on your own.

* You catch Jasper and Alice whispering to each other, but pay it no mind. Flirting even in the middle of your entire world crumbling down.

* You take a deep breath, picturing the locked box over and over, making it a visual mantra.

* “I can get through a period.” Everyone disperses, and Jasper walks you to your next class. Edward wanted to, but Jasper insisted.

*”You’re always hogging them, give someone else a few minutes Edward.”

* You’re almost near your class when Jasper talks to you.

* “Hey, I don’t know if I should tell you this”

*You wonder if he’s going to offer to beat up the person who took the video, or if he’s going to offer you a comforting word.

* “Alice told me you’re going to raise some hell on a misogynist in there” he gives you a wicked grin, his incisors sparkling.

* How is it that every vampire seems to say what you least expect to hear and yet, it’s exactly what you need in the moment.

* He holds out his fist, and you bump it with your own. A grin curling onto your face.

* “Hell yeah I am.”

* You take your usual seat in Spanish like normal. You sit in the front row in this class, diagonally from Jessica. Mike and Angela sit somewhere in the back.

* You just need to focus and keep your emotions in check for 45 minutes. You visualize the box, calming yourself separating the mind and body.

* How did the saying go... a calm soul resides in a calm body?

* “-Zar, Miss. Eleazar!” Your eyes pop up to the teacher, the locked box falling out of grasp.

* “Yes, sorry?” The teacher sighs, you look to the white board to see you’re going over the answers to the worksheet. You’re about to provide the answer for the number you’re on when the teacher cuts you off.

* “I know you might be focused on body building, but in my class you need to focus on the material.” There’s a scattered laugh that fills the room, but your blood runs cold

* “Excuse me?”

* And that’s when your teacher knew he fucked up. He stutters over himself, the sentences overlapping

* “-really you should take it as a compliment-“

* “Oh you think I should take it as a compliment that someone recorded me without my consent while I was changing?”

* The rooms pin drop silent. Your teacher is sweating.

* “Hold on now- I think you’re being a little dramatic don’t you think” A smirk curls onto his lips. “You were in your underwear, it was really no different than wearing a swimsuit” he’s got this smug smile, like he’s right.

*Honestly you were ready to put everything behind you and move on if he just apologized. It’s gross that a teacher is watching videos of a student changing, but what would you have done in his situation if a co-worker showed you.

* “It’s all about perspective, a positive per-“

* But not anymore, you’re not in a forgiving mood, especially not for an idiot like this.

* “No it’s all about consent.” All the anger and despair you’ve been holding back comes flooding out. “When someone wears a swimsuit they’re consenting to show skin and be seen, but I wasn’t contesting to being seen when I was changing in the privacy of the locker room.” You don’t stop for air, your voice trembling

* “And another thing, I wonder how the school administration will feel knowing the same faculty that’s supposed to make students feel safe and enrich their lives is watching creepy videos-“ you stop when you meet your teachers eyes, tears streaming down his face.

* Oh f*ck

* You look to your right, finding your classmates in a similar state, holding back tears.

*So this is what happens to humans when they come in contact with your power.

* You try to visualize the box, but it’s too far now. And all the crying people around you don’t help.

*You need to get out of here.

* “Pathetic, not even an apology for your gas lighting.” She shake your head as confidently as you can, grabbing your bag with trembling hands.

* You walk quickly, maybe there’s a mountain you can climb and wait it out on. You’ll text Carlisle and let him now what happened. It shouldn’t be too-

*” Hey wait!”

* You’re already in the hallway when someone call out to you. You turn, expecting it to be Angela or Mike. Never in a million years would you expect her to be standing there in the middle of the hall, her hand hastily wiping away a stray tear.

* “Mr. Peterson’s a f*cking jerk.” Jessica sniffles, walking quickly to catch up with you. You don’t miss the fact that her bags not slung across her back.

* She must have left a minute after you did. You haven’t thought about her as a friend. Not a real one at least. She’s kind of like hot sauce, it’s fun when it’s around, but if it’s not then that’s not a big deal.

* So to see her here, the first to follow you out, rambling about wether you want to get frozen yogurt or pizza, it warms your unbeating heart.

* “Hey Jessica?” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes swinging up to you.

* You haven’t been fair to her. But you’re going to change that.

* “Thanks for being my friend.” And she smiles at you, her arms wrapped around her tight. It’s not the fake ones you see often the ones she throws to Lauren when she’s asking for Jessica’s opinion on an outfit, or when Connor tries to copy her homework’s. it’s a genuine smile.

* Before she can open her mouth, you hear two more shouts from the hallway.

*Angela and Mike are jogging down the hallway to catch up with you. The latter carrying a bright pink backpack in his hand.

* “Geez Jess, the least you could do is take your bag before you go bolting out of there” Mike’s panting as he holds out her bag. You don’t miss the blush ghosting her face.

*Looks like she still has a crush on him.

* “Hey, are you okay?” Angela asks, and you wish you could cry as you nod.

* “Is it weird that I’m kind of happy right now?” And the three of them smile, before wrapping you into a group hug.

*They all smell terrible. Jessica smells like boiled broccoli, Mike is like the overwhelming stench of fat mixed with sugar, and Angela.. Angela’s probably the worst. She’s sickeningly sweet mixed with a healthy dose of starch.

*it’s disgusting. You have a hard time believing any of the Cullen’s would lose their minds when they’re this close to any of them.

*still, even with the repulsive stench, it’s nice. You haven’t felt the body gets of another human in a long time, or heard the quiet thump of their beating heart. Even the odor is nice, it reminds you that they’re human.

*And for a second it’s easier to pretend you’re human too, just like them.

* “Dude why are you so cold?” Jessica groans, breaking the moment. She taps your arm but doesn’t pull away.

* “While we’re asking questions, Mike how much axe do you use?” Angela’s eyes are watering as you both laugh.

* “Like you’re one to talk, I can smell your strawberry shampoo two hallways over!”

* You watch the three of them untangle and start walking to the back exit from the gym.

* “So where do we go now? We can’t stay here.” Angela says

* “I was thinking maybe a coffee shop, if we take out books we might pass for having a free period” Jessica pipes in

* “Oh, how about the Arcade? A buddy of mine works there since he’s already on break from college, I don’t think he’ll minds us hanging out there.”

* So this is what Alice meant when she said everything was going to be okay.

*Your Human Friends were going to save you

*You haven’t forgotten Edward’s warning, someone did break your trust and let you down.

* But that’s what it means to build friendships, you open yourself to being hurt, and so do they.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what do you think?” Mike asks, and they all turn around to notice you’re not walking with them.

*You try not to smile to wide. You don’t want to scare them off now.

* “I think there’s something fun about an arcade during the day, no lines.” You say, walking a little bit faster to catch up with your friends.

Tag list: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show

[remember-to-be-gentle]

This one may be long...

Subject: BNHA, Dabi aka Touya Todoroki + Enji Todorki, Fuyumi Todoroki, Natuso Todoroki, and a little Shouto if you squint

Title: House Party Bully 3 (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, pregnancy, bisexual, lactation, obsession, possessive behavior, bullying, stalking, blackmail, crying

Still shaking from Enji's "inspection," Touya whisked you out of the house and pushed you into his car. You could barely process what was happening when he tore off away from the house. The overpowering smell of weed grounded you, forcing you into reality. The very same reality where you'd just been split open by your bully's father's cock because you were pregnant. You glanced over at Touya who was staring straight ahead at the road, the car going a little too fast and his his knuckles white from their grip on the steering wheel.

Just what had Enji said to force Touya into inviting you over? Granted a man like Enji must have kept his family on a tight leash, a leash tight enough to keep a record of how much weed Touya smoked and when.

The silence in the car was broken when Touya said, "Do you think he hurt the baby?" His voice was tight as his grip on the steering wheel.

Of all the things to focus on with what just happened in his house and his priority wasn't even you. You snorted and turned away from him. Of course he only cared about the unborn fetus inside you. To him and his family you were simply a liability for their reputation and a walking womb that needed to be fed. "Fuck off. I want to go home."

He grunted.

With a new wave of fear slowly coiling in your stomach, you realized Touya was in fact taking you home. He knew where you lived. He'd known where you lived all along. How many opportunities had he had to make your life hell outside of school? How many times had he driven here and parked where he could watch you as he struggled with the desire to burst your tiny bubble of peace?

He parked in front of your house and waited for you to exit the car before he made for your front door. He let himself inside with a snide, "You really gotta learn to lock the door."

Slowly, you followed, legs still shaking as you made your way inside. "How long have you known where I live?"

Touya was in your kitchen, helping himself to the Chex Mix you kept on the counter. "It wasn't hard. Just did some reverse image searching and compared them to Google Maps. Plus you didn't hide your location on SnapChat. By the way, don't accept friend requests from strangers or people who're friends with people who hate you."

Hot anger sizzled on your skin. "I didn't ask how," you said from the door way, "I asked when."

That got him stop. "Does it matter? You've always been mine." He shoved a handful of pretzels into his mouth. "You're mine to fuck with when I please." He swallowed. "Or fuck when I please."

"I don't belong to you," you snarled. How dare he. He'd done enough damage to your life: destroying your reputation at school, invading the only peace you had, raping you at his party and then knocking you up before he let his dad have a turn. Fuck him. You didn't belong to anyone and especially not him.

Touya laughed. A genuine, deep, terrible laugh. He made his way across the room, heavy shoes creating a steady beat of thunder as he towered over you. A slender finger poked into your stomach, right where Enji had pointed before, the nail sharp as it pressed into your skin. "We may not have had anything physical keeping us together before," he spat, "but now we do. With my kid growing in your belly, no one can deny you're mine. Not when he's growing. Not when he's teething on your tits. And especially when he introduces himself with my name."

You pushed him away. "Get away from me. Get out of my apartment."

Touya stared at you for a moment, then walked back into the kitchen and scribbled his number on your calendar. "Call me when you want your car back. Or when you miss me. Whichever comes first." And with that, he bumped his shoulder into you and got back into his car. That sinking feeling of fear returned as you realized your car was still at his house and you'd have to deal with his family alone.

*******************************************************

The next morning you dressed for school. It had been a long, tiring debate the night before if you should even go back. So much had happened in just a few weeks and you'd done your best to keep your head down and listen to the lectures, but now you were pregnant and without your car. You could always call Touya and have him bring it, but then you'd give in to what he wanted: you forced to rely on him, tying yourself further to his whims - marking you as his.

Instead you'd opted to summon an Uber, go to your classes and get home with no time in between to so much as look at the library. You steeled yourself and stepped outside only to see the car that almost hit you outside the Todoroki mansion sitting idly with the engine running.

Enji sat behind the wheel, cartoonishly large in comparison to the vehicle. When he saw you, he leaned over and opened the door. "Get in, I'm driving you to school."

And just how would that look with you showing up to school with your bully's father and the most feared professor on campus? Rumors would already be spreading about your absence and odd behavior. The moment someone guessed you were pregnant, and you started to show, any hope for a normal college life would be over with no hope of recovery. "No. Thanks."

You turned and pulled your phone out for the Uber, but then Enji said, "Your scholarship relies on you being a model student, doesn't it?"

You froze.

"An academic advisor isn't going to be too keen on letting you keep that money when you've been knocked up by a campus lowlife, even if his father is a respected member of the faculty." He patted the passenger seat. "And while I can't fix the fact that you're losing that scholarship, I can pay your tuition and medical bills. Delivering and raising a baby isn't cheap. So get in the car before you walk away with nothing."

He was right. Of course he was fucking right. This was Enji Todoroki, the man who has his entire family turning a blind eye to his debaucherous acts. He wasn't going to let you go even if you died, not when his grandkid was growing inside you. With as much of your dignity you could gather, you climbed into the car and let Enji drive you to campus.

"After your last class," he said, "come to my office. You have an appointment." When you didn't respond he added, "For the baby." He had said he'd be footing the medical bills. Did that mean Enji was going to be there for everything? The pap smear, birth, and recovery? You shivered. Touya knew his father was going to be overprotective and manipulative. He knew his overbearing nature would have you crawling back to him, back to an overbearing man you were at least familiar with.

When Enji parked at the school, you hopped out and started walking toward your first class. “Thanks for the ride.” You tried to put as much distance between you and him as possible, but Enji was large and fast. He caught up to you easily, keeping silent stride and never leaving your side. That remained true for the rest of the day. Between classes you caught his eye, and when he didn’t have a class to teach, he followed you or worked on his computer outside your classroom, just within eyesight.

Rumors were already beginning to start, you could feel it, people glancing at you and Enji. They probably thought you were either sleeping with him or you’d grievenced him in some way. Hopefully they’d assume the latter. You'd rather people think you'd gotten caught for cheating than you tried to sleep your way to better grades.

This behavior continued for days. A week almost passed before you realized you hadn’t seen Touya. No bullying, only stares from your classmates and teachers, which was almost worse. You knew what to expect from Touya, you could blow him off and tell him to fuck off, and if he got too into it, sometimes your classmates would tell him to fuck off, too. But now you didn’t know what they were thinking, how they were judging you. You were alone except for Enji’s heavy gaze and now really did consider that you may be missing him.

After your last class, you knew better than to fight Enji on him taking you home, your car was still at his house after all, and he was stronger and faster. You climbed into his car and stared at the window, waiting to see the neighboring apartments and familiar street signs. They never came. Instead you recognized another set of houses, the same ones you’d parked in front of the night of the party. “Wait,” you said, “this isn’t the way to my apartment.”

“No, its not.” Enji agreed. “Its not proper for the future mother of my son’s child to be living alone in a run down apartment. You’ll be living, or at least spending most of your time, with us from now on.” Before you could protest, he tapped a heavy finger on a piece of paper that sat on the dashboard. You picked it up and nearly cried. It was a copy of your lease with an approved early termination of contract. “Don’t worry about moving your things,” he said, “The boys and I will handle it.”

A tear slid down your cheek. They’d taken your life from you.

You jumped when you felt a finger run across your cheek, wiping away the tear. “If you don’t want to share a room with Touya, that’s fine. There’s plenty of rooms in the house.”

*******************************************************

As your stomach grew, so did Enji's overprotectiveness and Touya's absence. He hadn't even updated his insta since the party. You almost admitted you missed him. You could brush off Touya's rude remarks about how fat you were getting. You couldn't brush off Enji's furnace of a hand as it felt up your swelling stomach. With your insta DMs taunting you with that swollen blue send button. All it would take for help was to press it. But pressing it would mean admitting that you needed him. It was almost tempting. Almost.

Enji did make you move into the mansion, which you thought meant spending every waking moment with Touya, but he was rarely there. Even when he was, he would only play Mario-kart with his friends or ignore you completely. Despite his possessive behavior, he was sticking to his guns about making you call him first.

Your room was thankfully away from Touya's, sandwiched between his younger siblings, Fuyumi and Natsuo. They were all incredibly kind, volunteering to bring you food and anything else you need. They even helped you start to put your things away as it was becoming harder to move with your growing stomach. Although you couldn't help noticing they seemed to eye you up when your back was turned.

And then Rei and Enji announced they'd be going out of town for the weekend. You thought this would be a relief, not having to deal with Enji's overprotectiveness for three days and Touya still being mostly MIA, but you quickly understood that no one in this house could be trusted.

"Is there anything we can get you?" Fuyumi asked, seated at your desk with Natsuo leaning beside her.

At this point, you were about four months into your pregnancy. Your stomach wasn't enormous, but it was getting hard to move around. Fuyumi volunteered to buy you maternity clothing and Natsuo often brought you food, which was usually fast food, but still appreciated. You'd grown comfortable with asking these two for things you needed. "I'm okay," you said, "I just need to get some pads. Hopefully I can get them from the store tomorrow." Your car was still here, after all, and despite being in the mansion, you hadn't managed to find your keys. Touya or Enji had to have them.

Natsuo twitched. "Pads?" Having not know him for that long, you weren't sure what that meant quite yet. You'd seen it only s few times when your pregnancy was mentioned.

Regardless, you blushed. Speaking about the changes your body was going through with your future, unwanted, in-laws wasn't a comfortable topic of conversation. "I don't have a proper bra to absorb all the milk," you confessed.

Fuyumi seemed like she was trying not to look at you. "You're lactating?" Or rather, you realized, she was trying not to look at your chest.

Hesitantly you answered, "Yeah."

Silence in the room settled heavy as a boulder. Natsuo's adam's apple bobbed. "H-how much?" His voice was tight.

You did not like this line of questioning. "Does it matter?"

Fuyumi glanced at Natsuo who nodded. Together, they moved at once, flanking your sides with the efficacy of lions. "Don't scream," Fuyumi said and then she yanked your shirt up. Just as you'd said, the front of your bra was dark with milk.

Natsuo was fast to pull a tit free, groaning at the sight of your puffy and swollen areolas. He ran the cold pad of his thumb over your nipple, making you squirm. "Fuck," he groaned, "I've waited too long for this."

Fuyumi did the same, her fingers just as cold. "You think you have? I'm older than you, remember?"

"What are you doing?!" You demanded. You tried to get away but they easily pinned you against your new bed, your back to the mattress and tits up for their viewing pleasure. The swollen part of your stomach didn't help either.

Slowly, Fuyumi explained, "Mom always let us have some of her milk when she was lactating but had to stop awhile ago because of some medication." She pinched you nipple and watched you bite down the moan that threatened to escape. Your breasts felt swollen all the time now that you were making milk. It both hurt and felt far too good to massage them yourself, milk often squirting out if you pressed too hard. With both of them hanging over you like, you knew the milk would flow easily and that would only encourage them more.

Natsuo picked up where his sister left off, "So we've been waiting for someone to give us a new supply. And you're it." He gave a tentative lick to your nipple, watching the skin stretch and swell until it stood erect and ready to suck. "I'll have to thank Touya for bringing you to us."

With that, both Fuyumi and Natsuo latched onto your nipples. Their hot mouths were voracious, starved. Fuyumi lapped and suckled while Natsuo used his teeth and pulled.

Your body reacted naturally as if they were the child still growing inside you. You could feel your teats leaking, all too happy to give up what they'd produced for hungry mouths. Gasps left your throat between the begging for them to stop and pleasure. Your core was becoming hot, liquid, as if it were melting.

You tried to push them off, but the siblings held firm, suckling back and forth until you were dizzy.

Natsuo suddenly pulled off, gasping for air as clear fluid dripped down his chin. "Fuck, I can't take this anymore." He got off the bed and spread your legs, roughly shoving your skirt up and pulling your panties aside to feel the slick that had gathered. He whistled, low and impressed. “Dad said you’d be easy, but I didn’t think you’d get so wet from us just sucking on your tits.”

“Don’t,” you begged, trying to push him and Fuyumi off you, but Natsuo was just like his big brother: stronger than you and bigger than you. He pulled his cock free and slid it inside you. He wasn’t as big as Touya or his father, but he was long and pushed in and in and in until you thought your swollen womb had been pushed into your lungs. “Shit,” he groaned, “you’re fucking tight. How did either of them even fit in here?” 

Fuyumi didn’t speculate, continuing to suckle on your breast, occasionally using her hand to stimulate the milk glands. 

Natsuo didn’t wait for you to adjust, sliding himself in and out at a steady pace that had you whimpering. In this sad, pathetic moment, you could admit it. You could admit that you missed Touya and wished he was here to protect you from his feral siblings as they had their way with you. Your phone was just on the nightstand, too, if you could roll over, you’d be able to call him. You needed him. The thought tasted like bile and booze.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but Natuso didn’t seem to notice or care, groaning at the sloppy sounds your cunt made as he fucked you. Fuyumi did notice and pulled off your teat. “Hey,” she said, “you’re okay.” She kissed your cheek, but kept one hand on your breast. “There’s no need to cry, we’re just trying to get to know you before the baby comes.” A kiss along your jaw, another one lower, where she sucked and bit at the skin. All you could think was Touya wouldn’t be happy if that bruised. 

And then the door opened. 

Hope exploded in your gut like an unwanted orgasm, every muscle in your body tensing, ready to explode off the bed and into your savior’s arms. For the first time in your life you hoped it was Touya coming, hoped it would be the shaggy mess of dyed-black hair and those cruel cerulean eyes that would demand to know what’s happening before he pulled you away to his room. You could handle his mocking but not his siblings. You wanted it to be Touya so much it hurt. 

And it wasn’t. 

The youngest Todoroki poked his head in, heterochromic eyes blinking slowly at the sight in front of him. His pale skin turned red, anger coloring his features as his eyebrows narrowed. For a moment you thought he’d defend you, but you knew better, you knew these siblings were fucked up and selfish. With Natuso buried deep inside you and Fuyumi still trying to get milk from your breast, you weren’t surprised at all when Shouto said, “You guys got started without me?”

Fuyumi and Natsuo scrambled to come up with an excuse, both their movements stopping as their attention shifted to focus on their little brother. The shot you needed. You ignored Natuso’s cock inside you and made for your phone, swiping it off the nightstand and quickly hitting the contact for A MAN WHO SHOULD NOT BE CALLED. 

“Shit.” Both Fuyumi and Natuso swore. 

They both tried to wrestle your phone away, but it was too late. Less than two rings and Touya’s voice flooded the room, “What’s going on?”

You were so relieved you almost started sobbing. “Help me!” 

Fuyumi managed to grab your phone. Her face broke into an uneasy smile, fear making her pale into a sickly green “Everything’s fine, Touya-nii! We’re just playing a game and she’s a sore loser, right Natsu?”

“Right,” Natuso’s voice was shaking, “right, Fuyu.” 

Heavy silence filled the room. They’d been exposed for their actual intentions. “I’m on my way. And I better not see any of you near her again.” Touya’s voice was a growl, deep, barely holding back his rage. 

Shouto blinked, his color returning to normal. “You guys drank all the milk, didn’t you?” 

Both Natsuo and Fuyumi looked horrified. Their little brother's own selfishness played against them.

Fuyumi and Natsuo scrambled out of the room, dragging Shouto with them.

You laid on the bed, a soreness washing over your body. Your violated cunt, your swollen breasts, your skin where Fuyumi kissed, and goosebumps from the cold. You didn’t have the energy to fix your clothes or even look at Touya when he entered the room. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his heat and his anger. He didn’t say anything, though. He just fixed your clothes and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you to your feet before he brought you to his room. 

The familiar smells of body odor, weed, and Touya enveloped you and you understood that no matter how much you didn’t want this, this was your safe space now.  

[sky-berrie]

Goodnight - Damian

Summary: Damian pays you a visit at night ft. the one bed trope.

It was a typical eerie night in Gotham and as usual, you spent it alone in your room. You were completely engrossed in the murder documentary streaming on your laptop, the game of Tetris on your cell phone, and the barbeque potato chips you were shoving into your mouth. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you jumped right out of your seat and yelped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” said Damian, casually. “It is only me.” He was dressed in his Robin uniform. It was clean which meant that he was probably unharmed.

You scowled at him as your felt your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyes traveled to the open window. You were certain that you had secured the latch, added the anti-lift bar and activated the alarm not twenty minutes ago. Your newfound interest in murder mysteries kept you awake a night, so you amped up your security to give yourself some peace of mind. It should have been impossible for anyone to break in, but here Damian was, standing inside your apartment bedroom.

“Stop abusing your power like that,” you scolded.

“Stop leaving yourself vulnerable,” he countered, without missing a beat.

“I didn’t! Did you not see the steel bar and alarm?” you said with indignation. You had to wonder how he managed to slip in. In another life, he could be a magician, you thought.

“Indeed, I did notice,” he said. “It is quite the cute little system you have.” His smirk was as condescending as ever.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a big reaction out of you.

Damian’s expression softened. “I am glad that you installed that, though. Now I do not have to worry so much about you when I am away.”

You had no idea how to formulate a response to a comment that was not an insult or sarcasm. You awkwardly changed the subject instead, “So… you need something or…?”

Damian looked at you expectantly as if he was waiting for you to continue. “Do not end your sentence with a conjunction,” he chastised you. “Proper grammar is imperative for effective communication.” You rolled your eyes again. Sometimes he was insufferable.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. And sometimes he was almost sweet.

His gloved finger gently tipped your face upwards so he could inspect it thoroughly. You found his concern rather considerate until he opened his mouth again. Damian’s face contorted into an expression of disgust before he said, “You are beginning to look like Drake.” Although Tim was very attractive, you knew how Damian felt about his adoptive brother. His statement was not to be mistaken as a compliment.

You pulled away and rolled your eyes again. “Got it. You came here to annoy me. Mission accomplished. You ready to leave now?” You pointed to the window.

“I am being serious, Y/N, you look unwell…” He looked around your desk space with a horrified expression. “And I can see why. When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh,” you blew a raspberry as you thought about it. “Yester…today?” you said, but it came out as a question. Damian looked unimpressed. “No, today. Definitely today,” you stated with more confidence.

You could tell Damian didn’t buy it. “What day is it today?” he challenged.

Your eyes roamed around the room in search of clues. The date and time weren’t visible on your electronics. You took a stab in the dark. “Saturday.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “It is Sunday night.”

“Oh…” you pursed your lips sheepishly. Sometimes the days blurred together.

“That is it,” he said with finality. He closed your laptop. “You are banned from watching murder mysteries videos at night.” He went for your phone next. He raised it up for you to see your game of Tetris disappearing as he powered it off. “I am confiscating your phone every evening from now on.”

“What?” you whined, lunging out for your phone. Damian tucked it away and out of reach in the inner pocket of his uniform.

“You are getting time limits. Blue light disrupts your circadian rhythm - no laptop or phone after 10 pm.” He grabbed the crinkly chip bag. “And these, well, you really should not eat these ever. Do you know how much sodium is in this bag? Your arteries will know.” He tossed the half-empty bag into the trash can beside your desk.

“No!” You protested. He had no right to order you around.

“Yes,” he asserted. You watched him fluff up your pillows, tuck the sheets firmly under the mattress, and smooth out the bed spread. “You are going to bed now. Get in.” He lifted the covers for you.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled humourlessly. You just wanted to finish watching the unsolved mystery of the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902 and be so terrified that you can’t sleep for the next three days.

“Y/N,” he said sternly, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.

“Fine,” you grumbled. You knew Damian was stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You figured that you would get in bed to appease him and get rid of him, then you could resume watching your video.

You stomped extra loudly across your room to make a point. You huffed loudly as you crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in as if you were a little kid.

“Good night,” said Damian.

“Yeah, bye,” you replied impatiently.

Your eyes following Damian as he flicked off your lamp. Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that Damian was taking off his Robin uniform. He stripped down to his undershirt and hung the tunic over the back of your chair before sitting down. “What are you doing?” you asked, raising yourself up on your forearms.

“I am going to stay,” he said, like it was the most normal sentence in the entire world.

“Um, come again?”

“I know you are afraid to go to sleep, so I will stay and make sure you feel safe… even though it is self inflicted fear and I ought to leave you so you learn your lesson. I do not know why you insist on watching murder mysteries knowing that you are going to be frightened.”

“While that’s a very nice offer, it’s also super unnecessary. I’m okay,” you lied. You couldn’t let him stay overnight in your chair just because you had an overactive imagination.

Damian raised a hand to silence your argument. “It is not up for debate. I will stay right here and you will get some sleep.”

“But you need to sleep, too,” you reasoned.

Damian shrugged. “I will make do here.”

Your throat was suddenly dry as you prepared to make a compromise. “You could… sleep… here… in my bed?” You prayed that he wasn’t repulsed by your invitation to share your bed. You and Damian were just friends but somewhere along the way your feelings changed. You caught yourself noticing things about him that you found attractive… like the way his eyes were so expressive and always told you what he was thinking… or how he carried himself with strength and confidence, even if it could be annoying sometimes.

You held your breath in anticipation. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. “Okay,” he casually accepted. While you were relieved that he wasn’t mortified by the thought of sharing your bed, you were a nervous wreck now.

You shuffled over to the very edge of your twin sized bed to make room for Damian. As he lay down, the side of his warm arm brushed against yours. You skittishly scooted away but tumbled out of bed.

Damian peered over the edge of the bed and his brows knit together in confusion. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly to sound normal. You tittered nervously as you climbed back under the covers. This time you lay on your side and faced away from him to put some distance between you two and to hide your embarrassment.

“Come closer, Y/N. I do not want you to fall off again.”

You shifted infinitesimally closer.

“Closer,” instructed Damian.

You inched towards him but left a good distance separating you two.

“There’s plenty of space here,” he encouraged.

You quickly came up with an excuse. “I toss and turn in my sleep. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Damian let out a hearty laugh.

“What?” you asked with indignance. You rolled over onto your back so you could see him.

“Nothing,” he denied, stifling his mirth.

“Tell me,” you demanded.

“The thought of you, in your footie pajamas, thinking that you could injure a highly skilled assassin, is quite comical. Don’t flatter yourself. Now, come here and go to sleep.” Damian patted the empty space beside him.

This time you listened and moved towards the centre of the bed. You were so close to Damian that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The warmth was drawing you even closer to him but you reprimanded yourself and forced yourself to remain eerily still to avoid another accidental contact. Damian turned his head and you felt his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you squeaked. You bit you lip anxiously. Your hand played with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” you said, this time more confidently although you weren’t fooling him.

“You need not be afraid of the dark, Y/N, especially when I am here.”

You knew that already. You always felt safe when you were with Damian, even before you knew he was Robin. There was something comforting about his self-assurance that made situations less scary. But that’s not what was making you jittery.

“Why do you bother watching murder mysteries? They always overlook clues and never investigate thoroughly. Besides, you have a real detective right here,” Damian said, with a tone of umbrage.

You shrugged and tilted your head. “They’re fun,” was your simple answer.

Damian cocked an eyebrow. “Being so petrified that you cannot sleep alone is fun?”

“I don’t know. I guess I admire you for being Robin.” You don’t know why you said that. You really shouldn’t be feeding his ego. It’s big enough as it is. You kept talking, against your better judgement. “Watching you solve mysteries and fight for justice got me interested in true crime.”

Damian only hummed in response. He was quiet for a while and you thought that maybe he had drifted to off to sleep. Finally, he said, “Would you like to know who committed the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902?”

You gasped and turned on your side to face him. You were only a few inches away from him now, but you didn’t even register his proximity. Your anxiety was long forgotten and replaced by curiosity. “You know who did it?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“How?” you breathed with skepticism. The case had been undertaken by several of the most high-profile detectives and private investigators over the decades and none were able to solve it. In fact, no new leads had been uncovered in the last eighty years.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Batman and Robin are, without a doubt, the best detective duo in history. Not to mention, that case was child’s play.”

You scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Show me some proof,” you said, calling his bluff.

“Very well, then. I will show you the file the next time you visit the manor.”

“If you’ve solved it, why don’t you tell the authorities then?”

“We have. It is connected to several active cases so the GCPD is not able to release any information to the public yet.”

You scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of a fib. He didn’t waver under your intense stare, but then again, he was accustomed to the batglare so your measly glare was probably ineffective. You decided to trust him. “Who did it?”

Damian turned on his side as well and propped up his head with his arm so that he could look down at you. He pretended to think about it, building up the suspense. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll tell you tomorrow morning,” he said, almost playfully.

“What?” you exclaimed.

“Better get to sleep right away,” he warned.

You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep knowing that the answer to the city’s most enigmatic mystery was lying right beside you. You huffed angrily and flopped back down onto your mattress.

Damian let out a deep laugh in response. You grabbed a spare pillow and tried to whack him, but he anticipated your attack and caught it. “Damian Wayne, you are the absolute worst.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth. 

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense. 

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him. 

“Yeah.” 

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective. 

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?” 

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused. 

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.” 

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended. 

Youngjae snorted. 

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most. 

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice. 

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.” 

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next. 

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?” 

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months. 

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.” 

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction. 

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face. 

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.” 

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?” 

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.” 

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?” 

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled. 

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could. 

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal. 

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours. 

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud. 

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do. 

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance. 

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse. 

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun. 

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.” 

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-” 

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?” 

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for. 

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.” 

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up. 

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…” 

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up. 

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed. 

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.” 

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom. 

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-” 

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not. 

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat. 

“Same for me,” Mark agreed. 

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!” 

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back. 

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks. 

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down. 

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.” 

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them. 

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds. 

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more. 

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.” 

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.” 

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line. 

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed. 

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world. 

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was. 

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes. 

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family. 

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first. 

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?” 

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.” 

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone. 

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.” 

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again. 

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch. 

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.” 

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked. 

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents. 

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him. 

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure. 

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?” 

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it. 

“Both of us. Just trust me.” 

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him. 

“I’ll even go first,” you told him. 

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion… 

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask. 

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask. 

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…” 

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought. 

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?” 

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…” 

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding. 

“Okay.” 

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby!” 

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times. 

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!” 

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists. 

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist. 

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek. 

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing. 

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder. 

“Mark! Stop it!” 

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away. 

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs. 

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you. 

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest. 

“Y/N,” Mark whispered. 

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled. 

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch. 

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat. 

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could… 

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing. 

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this. 

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise. 

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before. 

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.  

Maybe he had a sixth sense. 

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet. 

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice. 

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left. 

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him. 

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard. 

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night. 

[hermannsthumb]

Maria. *Grabs your face* MARIA. I would LOVE to see 15 bobbing for apples from the autumn fic meme written by you. Nothing would delight me more!

Anonymous asked: Halloween prompt #15 please!!... "Bobbing for apples but we meet accidentally underwater lady and the tramp style." OR "I thought we'd have fun bobbing for apples but you actually hate it and are really mad now"

15. Bobbing For Apples

from autumn fic prompts here

KATE ❤️__ ❤️for you id write anything... and anon the lady and the tramp scenario is so fucking funny/good

---------------------------

It’s a really good thing that Hermann has Newt, because if Newt’s being honest, he has no damn clue what the poor dude would do without him. Work himself to death, probably. Or spend every Saturday night alone in his bunk. So depressing. Newt considers it his big charitable act of—well, of all time—to force Hermann into social functions, whether it's fun nights out at the bar (with Newt!), or down the hall a few feet for awesome movie marathons in Newt’s quarters (with Newt!), or something like tonight, which is a super awesome and fun Halloween party that, like, everyone on the base was invited to (including Newt!).

Hermann was all set to spend another night alone (probably changing the batteries in all his calculators or rearranging the hangers in his closet) when Newt dragged him out, more or less by the collar of his argyle sweater, with multiple threats to make his life a living hell the following week in the lab if he didn't comply immediately. "Seriously, dude," Newt had said, ominously, while Hermann looked at him like a furious cat ready to take a swipe, "you're gonna put in those vampire fangs and get drunk with me, or you're gonna regret it. I mean it." Newt was not opposed to blasting the shittiest depths of his Spotify account over his bluetooth speakers or using Hermann's favorite coffee mug to hold his dissection tools. Luckily for both of them, Hermann decided the risk wasn't worth it.

Newt knows Hermann is bound to recognize how selfless Newt is being and thank him for it eventually. Probably. Maybe a few years from now. For now, Newt is enjoying the warm and fuzzy feeling of having done a good deed, and also of drinking a considerable amount of spiked punch.

Hermann is not enjoying either.

"I did, in fact, have plans for tonight," he tells Newt, sipping his ginger ale and observing Newt with a fierce scowl. He flat-out refused the booze Newt tried to push on him. It's fine, whatever—it's enough for Newt, right now anyway, that he actually came. They'll work up to bigger stuff like that later.

"Like what?" Newt says. "Doing a crossword puzzle and watching the second half of that boring-ass documentary you put on last weekend?"

Newt considers it an affront to the very concept of movie nights that Hermann used his pick on a documentary, and one about the jaeger program that didn't even bother interviewing him, no less. Newt loves a good documentary, don't get him wrong, but movie nights are for escapist shit. You don't see him switching on Godzilla. Plus, having to watch stock footage of Dr. Gottlieb Sr. blabbing his mouth about how smart he was while you were debating making a move on his son (who was currently in you bed, looking super cute in your sweatpants, because he'd forgotten to pack pj's) was kind of a mood-killer. "It wasn't boring," Hermann sniffs, which tells Newt that his guess was dead-on. "It was...interesting. And anyway, just because they aren't your idea of plans..."

"Okay, whatever," Newt says. "Let's just have fun. That's the point of a party."

He throws an arm around Hermann's shoulder and drags him closer, until their heads knock together painfully. He hears Hermann growl low in his throat. Newt doesn't say, soon, we won't have the time to do stupid shit like this anymore, so we should enjoy it while we can, even though he wants to. It's better to not make fun stuff depressing. Plus, Hermann might decide to take that as an invitation to bail and put on his documentary. Instead he reaches up across Hermann and flicks his chin. Hermann's whole body stiffens. "I can't believe I got you into this super awesome party and you're not even pretending to be thankful," Newt says.

With no great deal of difficulty, Hermann pushes Newt off of him. Newt lands heavily back in his chair, making the whole thing wobble, and he laughs as he just manages to catch himself from falling off the other side. "You got me in?" Hermann says. "Newton, I was invited three weeks ago."

Newt stops laughing. "You were?"

"Yes," Hermann says. The corner of his lip twitches up, with a smugness so powerful Newt can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Bastard. "I took it upon myself to ask if you might be permitted to come, too." He adds, sarcastically, "Out of the kindness of my heart. I know how terribly put out you get when you aren't included in these sorts of things."

Newt considers this new information, and then discards it, because it really doesn't fit the image of himself he's been cultivating as the cool, hip friend to Hermann's uncool, unhip nerd. Like, come on, between the two of them, Newt is obviously the one you'd want at your party. Hermann's gotta be kidding. Probably. Maybe. "It's a lame party anyway," Newt mumbles.

He tries to put his arm around Hermann's shoulder again, remembers that Hermann really didn't like that the first time, and then drops it back down at his side instead. "Totally lame," he continues. Newt recalls the Halloween parties of his youth with a warm, fond glow: elaborate costumes, tacky decorations, passing around bowls of peeled grapes in the dark, carving jack-o-lanterns while his dad hovered protectively over him to make sure he didn't take a finger off with the knife. This is none of that. Barely anyone even dressed up! The lack of Halloween spirit is tragic. "There aren't even any party games."

"Yes there are," Hermann says, mildly.

He points across the room at a large metal tub that Newt somehow missed before. It looks like it's filled with water, and...

"Dude," Newt says.

He doesn't wait to ask before he's hopping to his feet and dragging Hermann along after him by his blazer cuff. Hermann swats at his heels a few times with his cane, but eventually—like he does with most of Newt's ideas—gives in. "I'm a fuckin' champ at bobbing for apples," Newt boasts. "I used to—oops, excuse me," (he runs into two guys who are, like, twice his height, upsetting their drinks, and he hears Hermann groan as something purple spills on his sweater), "I used to always win it at the fall fest when my dad would take me." And then when he went back as an adult by himself, but it was less impressive a win when you were up against a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"You do have an exceptionally large mouth," Hermann says, rubbing at his stained shoulder. "I suppose that helps." As Newt bends to investigate the iron tub, he says, "Oh, Newton, don't, it's been out all night. Who knows what sorts of germs are in there?"

Newt gets to his knees and rolls up the sleeves of his PPDC-issued labcoat. He's a mad scientist to Hermann's vampire (vampire librarian?) tonight. Yeah, it's kind of a lazy costume, but it was free—he already had everything he needed in the lab. "I can get it in five seconds, max," he declares. His record is one second, but he's the first to admit he's a little rusty, and he'd rather impress Hermann by beating his estimate. "Will you hold my headlamp?"

Grumbling, Hermann takes it. Newt sets his glasses on the ground. "You're going to get yourself bloody soaking," Hermann says, and then he complains about something else, too, but Newt is screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head into the tub, which makes it difficult to hear him. One second—two seconds—two and a half—Newt emerges victorious from the tub, teeth clenched down firmly on an apple, and accidentally splatters a large amount of water on Hermann's shoes. He pulls the apple out of his mouth with a grin and waves it at Hermann. "See. I'm a fucking pro."

He tucks his glasses back on his face to discover that Hermann is staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. Newt can't decide if it's the blacklight bulbs overhead that are washing him out and making him look so flushed, or something else entirely. Then, in a second, he's grumpy and scowling and tsking over his wet shoes. "A pro," he echoes. "Hardly. It can't be that complicated."

Newt gestures grandly at the tub and takes a bite out of his apple. Hermann can always be relied upon to never turn down a challenge, especially when it means making Newt look—potentially—stupid. Newt uses it to his advantage often. Whatever it takes to help the guy have a good time. "It's all yours, dude."

Hermann grumbles something again about Newt being too arrogant for his own good, and something else about showing Newt how to do it without making a mess of everything, then gets down to his knees with a quiet hiss of discomfort. He shoves his cane, and Newt's headlamp, at Newt, though bewilderingly leaves his blazer on. "I'll be just a moment," he says, and dunks his head into the tub.

He splashes back up no more than five seconds later. Apple-less. "Bugger," he coughs, and then coughs some more. The entire front of his sweater is soaked. "I didn't—I didn't start out right. Let me—"

Newt watches Hermann try to drown himself a few more times in mild interest before he finally intercedes. "Need a hand?" he says, getting to his knees next to Hermann.

"No," Hermann splutters.

Newt takes his glasses off again. "Yeah, you do. Okay, now watch me—"

He emerges with another apple in seconds.

Hermann grits his teeth. "Newton—"

"One more?" Newt says, his grin widening.

Back under. Another apple. He winks at Hermann when he goes in for a fourth time, and this time, he feels the water of the tank being upset as Hermann (refusing to be outdone once again) splashes in alongside him. God, Newt loves riling Hermann up like this—he gets so funny, and kinda cute, when he's mad about something. Red in the face, and scowling, and sometimes (when he's real mad) speaking in a dangerously low and rough sort of voice with his r's rolling that makes Newt shiver, just a little. Like, Newton, you worthless, pathetic little man, cease this immediately, or else I'll... He actually said that to Newt once. It made Newt feel a little warm under his collar. Hermann's probably going to say something similar to him this time, and Newt can't wait.

Ten seconds in. Newt has been cutting Hermann a little slack at first, just to see if he can catch up, but finally decides to just go for the apple that's been bobbing steadily against his mouth this whole time. (He loves beating Hermann at stuff.)

And, well, apparently Hermann goes for it too.

They both miss the apple. Newt's mouth is up against Hermann's for another five seconds before he realizes what's happening (that that is definitely not an apple, that that is definitely a mouth, that that mouth is wide and weird another to belong to only one person Newt knows, that that mouth is parting in surprise, oh my God) and then he pulls away so quickly that he breathes in what feels like half the tub of water. He falls back on his ass, coughing furiously, and it's not until he shoves his glasses back on with a shaking hand that he realizes that Hermann has done the same. "I," Hermann says. His eyes are wide. "I'm sor—"

"It's fine," Newt squeaks.

"It was—"

"I know!"

Newt and Hermann's mouths were touching for five whole seconds. Underwater, while apples bobbed against their foreheads, but their mouths still touched. Oh my God. In elementary school, Newt thinks dizzily, that would be enough to catch cooties. This was so not how he wanted his awesome eventual seduction of Hermann to go down. For one thing, it wasn't even a seduction.

"I'm gonna get a towel," Newt says.

Hermann nods. He looks strangely adorable with water droplets on his nose and his hair plastered to his head like that. Newt has to get out of here before he does something stupid, like take Hermann's pointy cheeks between his hands and put their mouths together on purpose. He doesn't think Hermann would respond to that very well right now.

"I'll get you one too," Newt says, and it takes a lot of effort to force himself to his feet.

Hermann nods again.

"Okay," Newt says, and stumbles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he just catches Hermann raising a hand to his mouth.

[kimnjss]

capital h | pjm + jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader x jimin ⇢ genre: smut. ⇢ word count: 7.6K ⇢ theme: established relationship | threesome.  ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, slight nipple play, oral (f/m receiving), threesome, semi-public fingering, humiliation kink(?), slight dom!jimin, slight switch!jungkook, slight sub!reader, voyeurism, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, unsafe sex (wrap it up, loves!). a hint of jikook at the end. ⇢ summary: after learning of the activities your boyfriend and his best friend use to partake in, you can’t help but what to be apart of them. everyone always says, two is better than one, right? ⇢ A/N: this has been in my drafts for about three months, lmao. finally, i finished it and posted it! im lowkey excited because this was a lot of fun to write, and i’ve never written anything like it so! alright, yeah... let me know what you think x.

Your damp locks laid sprawled against your boyfriend's muscular thigh. Warm fingers twisting the wet curls between his fingers. Movements slowed due to the toe-curling, orgasm-inducing, mind-blowing tub sex you just shared. The last thing you had wanted was to get out and brave the cold air, but laying here, wrapped in his sheet with nothing underneath, you didn't want to be anywhere else.

 Being in Jimin's arms was a rare occurrence these days, moments like this becoming cherished treasures that you looked forward to. Excitement was the easy way to describe how you felt when he and his six best friends were pulling up in front of your house, inviting you to spend their day off with them.

 Of course, it was all Jimin's doing, you wouldn't have met any of those guys if it wasn't for your chance meeting with the handsome dancer. They liked you enough, though. Each showed you that they accept your relationship in their own way.

 Seokjin, the oldest, had become something of a big brother to you; oftentimes taking your side on the rare occasion that you and Jimin argued. Never failed to give you insightful advice after the fact. Yoongi didn't really pay you any mind, but he thought you were cute and often times found himself cooing at you. You were closest to Hobi and Joon, becoming fast friends due to your like personalities and sense of humor. They thought you were hilarious, Jimin didn't see it.

 As for the two youngest... despite you dating his best friend, Taehyung didn't really show much interest in you, neither did Jungkook. Yet, Taehyung did put in the effort to make conversation and make you feel included, unlike the youngest male. You had been convinced that he didn't like you, until a few weeks ago when his blatant staring began.

 He'd be quick to look away whenever he knew he was caught, but he wasn't that sneaky. You never missed the cocky grin he'd try to hide or the knowing look he'd shoot in Taehyung's direction. There was definitely something up and it definitely involved you.

 “What do you think of Jungkook?” The question was falling from your lips and you had your never-ending thoughts and overthinking to blame. 

 Jimin let out a snort of a laugh. “Jungkook? My best friend, and teammate? The guy that's been like a brother to me for the past 7 years? I guess he's alright,” Sarcasm dripped from his words and you rolled your eyes, lifting your head from his lap.

 Your hand met his shoulder, gently pushing him back against the headboard. “I'm being serious. What do you think?”

 “So am I. He's like a brother to me, why?” He found this sudden interest in the maknae odd...? Especially for you. It was obvious that the two of you didn't really socialize, so why were you asking about him all of a sudden? “What do you think of him?” Jimin prompted when your answer didn't come fast enough.

 Taking a moment, you debated whether or not you should even bring this up. As he said, Jungkook was like a brother to him... what if calling out his weird behavior ended up rubbing Jimin in the wrong way and now you were without a boyfriend.

 Jimin wasn't the type for dramatics, though. Everything was comfortable with him, not many things reaching his 'serious business' radar, so this should be fine, right? Right. “He's fine...” You buffered, teeth chewing at your lower lip.

 Jimin pinned you with an expectant look, hated whenever you, or anyone, beat around the bush when there was obviously something on their mind. Taking this, you urged yourself to go on. “...I've just noticed like lately he's been... checking me out?” Mentally, you flinched, hoping the news wouldn't upset your boyfriend.

 His chest rumbled as he barked out a laugh, head cocked back as the sweet sounds left his plump lips. Pillow soft punches met his stomach as you tried to get him to focus. “I'm being serious, Jimin! He's always staring at me with that stupid face,”

 You imitated Jungkook's seemingly signature facial expression, eyebrows raised and tongue pushed into the inside of your cheek, eyes tracing over your boyfriend's body hungrily like Jungkook had done to you many times before. Another laugh left his lips at the sight of your face and you were scoffing, pushing him back again.

 “I don't know why this is funny to you. I just told you one of your friends has been mentally undressing me, you should be livid!” You were quick to silence the insecure thoughts that his lack of reaction had floating around your mind.

 It was no secret that Jimin was a jealous guy. What's his, is his... you were his! He should be enraged that some guy was looking at you like a piece of meat, he was the only one that was supposed to look at you like that. So why was he laughing?

 Seeing that you were obviously upset, Jimin was reaching for your arms, uncrossing them from your bare chest. His hands held loosely on your wrist as he pulled you toward him, landing a soft kiss to your lips. “I think it's funny because it's not a big deal. Me and Jungkook are boys, he's not gonna try anything with you.” He assured you, another kiss landing on your lips.

 “Okay, but, I heard him and Taehyung talking and-” You weren't even able to finish your sentence because he was sitting up, squinted eyes finding yours. “Taehyung was talking about you?”

 Oh, now he wanted to be jealous? Scoffing, you pushed him back against the headboard. “Yes.” You couldn't help the roll of your eyes. “I was trying to tell you. Not only is Jungkook always checking me out, but I heard them talking about you and us... and something about an H?”

 Jimin's expression softened, eyebrows relaxing as his cheeks tinted a few shades light of red. “Oh.” Crooked teeth worried his lower lip as he reached a hand up to push his hair back on his forehead.

 “Oh? What does H stand for, Jimin?” Obviously, he knew exactly what they were talking about and it was making him... blush? “It's nothing.” He answered a bit too quickly. “It's something.” Your words chased his, a slight bite in your tone.

 His eyes widened. “What are you gonna get mad if I don't tell you?” Laughter laced his words, but it wasn't the 'Ha-ha so funny' type of laugh, it was a type of nervous laugh he let out when he felt like he dug himself in a hole.

 You were nodding your head simply, shoving the blanket from your waist. “Yup!” Hopping from the bed, you began searching the room for the jeans you had ditched the second you were entering his bedroom. Jimin was sitting up quickly, voice stopping your movements just as you got your jeans over your thighs. “Alright, alright! I'll tell you. Come sit back down,”

 A triumphant smirk spread across your lips, as you crossed the room back to his bed. You sunk back down onto the comfortable mattress, crossing your legs underneath your bum as you awaited his explanation.

 “First of all, this was before I met you so you can't hold this against me,” He prepped and you nodded your head, gesturing with your hand for him to go on. “A while ago... with my exes, or just like girls that hung around us... Jungkook and I would, you know...”

 You had pretty a good idea what he was alluding to, but you weren't the type to graciously take a hint. “No, I don't know... you would, what?” He was rolling his eyes at the smirk on your lips, hands pushing his hair back out of habit.

 “Share them, our girlfriends, the groupies... It was fun, you know? Capitol H doesn't stand for anything, it's literally what our bodies do,” He let out a short laugh and you picture the way an H looked. “...So I'd be the middle part?” You clarified, your words making Jimin's eyes snap up to you.

 “Who said...” His words trailed off, brows furrowing as he visibly went through the thoughts bubbling in his mind. You didn't blame him. Despite the occasional interesting position or location, you liked to keep it pretty vanilla.

 Well aware that Jimin was more experienced than you, you didn't want to disappoint. You always thought vanilla didn't technically mean boring... at least it didn't to you. But after hearing that he use to partake in regular threesomes you couldn't help but wonder what else the other girls he's been with let him do.

 Just the pure fact that you were considering this, putting yourself in the situation was enough to baffle your boyfriend, confuse him enough to convince him that you were just fucking with him. A laugh slipped past his lips as he shook his head. “Come on, Yn. You wouldn't be into that.”

 “How do you even know?”

 “Well, because I know you. It was a long time ago, Yn. They were just talking shit, you don't have to-” Annoyed, you were cutting him off.

 “I might want to. I could be into it, you don't know. Jungkook is cute and...”

 His face was twisting, and you were afraid you had said the wrong thing. Sure of it when the words left his lips. “Are you saying you want to fuck, Jungkook?” Thankfully, he didn't exactly look angry... just a little bit put off?

 A hand reached out for his, easily lacing your fingers together. “Listen, I know I'm not that... adventurous, when it comes to sex... but if it's something that you enjoyed doing or if you just want to, I'm just saying... I wouldn't be against it.” Your thumb soothes over the back of his hand and enjoys the smile that pushes onto his lips.

 His eyes soften again, staring up at you lovingly. The confusion of whether or not you had just admitted you were into his bandmate gone and forgotten. “I promise, I like the sex we have just fine, don't worry.” He was leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull your body into his.

 Four days passed since your conversation with Jimin. More and more time was spent around their dorm, soaking up as much time with him as you could before he was jetting off to his next schedule. Being around him all day, though, meant that you were around his friends all day too.

 It wasn't a big deal, these guys were cool. At least, most of them were. In the past days, Jungkook had become bold, to say the least. Not looking away when he's caught staring, instead of waiting for you to be the one to break. On top of that, it was like the kid never knew when to shut up, always coming up with a snarky comment or undermining you but at the same time calling you 'Noona' with that boyish grin of his.

 Jimin no doubt told him all about the talk that you two had if those boys were sharing girls... there was no way they weren't sharing secrets. You don't know what you knowing about their sexcapades did for him, but it clearly had gone to his head. It'd be best to just ignore him, you decided. No matter how undeniably attractive he was, there was nothing there for you. You didn't want him. Didn't need him, no matter the dampness that ensued whenever he smirked. And of course, you didn't ever notice the size of the bulge that constantly pushed against his pants. Was that boy always hard, or something!?

 Like right now, just walking across the lawn in search of the ball he had been playing with, but right there fighting against his swim trunks... a huge boner! You cursed the moment Jin suggested a pool party would be a fun way to spend the afternoon.

 It had sounded fun at the moment. Yoongi said he was going to barbecue and you were even more convinced when your boyfriend was making his way down the stairs shirtless in his swim shorts. The sexy one-word tattoo on full display, ripples of his abs seemed to glisten, the single trail of hair below his belly button disappearing underneath his waistband.

 Yeah, you'd definitely enjoy this afternoon. So sure of it, until you were catching sight of the man that followed him down the stairs. Jungkook, of course, who else could irk you just with their presence?

 A lot taller and more muscular than your lean boyfriend, black shorts hanging loosely on his hips, giving you a perfect view of the well-worked on V-line that acted a huge fucking arrow to his dick. Gentle lips found the top of your head, a strong arm wrapping around your waist. “You look pretty,” Jimin mumbled into your ear, and you grinned, leaning into his chest.

 Jimin was always very vocal when it came to the things that he liked to see. You showing some skin? Definitely at the top of his list. Took that into account when you picked out your swimsuit for this gathering; a red triangle string bikini, lacy black flowers decorating your breasts, and hips.

 It was obvious that Jimin thought you looked good, could tell with the lingering glances in your direction as you laid on your back trying to soak up some sun. What you didn't account for was the slight chance that his friends might think the same. And by friends, you meant Jungkook, of course.

 Poor kid couldn't take his eyes off of you, not even for a second. Which explains his constant need to get out of the pool and retrieve the ball that he kept failing to catch. The situation almost funny, if the sexy flex in his arms as he pulled his body out of the water didn't always catch your attention. If your eyes weren't automatically trailing over every ridge and bump of his muscles.

 He'd smirk when catching you, toss his long wet hair before slipping back into the water. Wouldn't even wait to see the annoyed roll of your eyes, not as it mattered – he had already caught you staring, more than once. Acting as if he didn't affect you was a waste. And to make matters worse, Jimin was always right there observing each and every one of your interactions with the kid, face giving nothing away.

 Not angry, or annoyed. Just watching, as if he was curious to see what you'd do. How you'd react. As if he had put this whole entire thing in motion earlier and was observing the aftermath. 

 By the time Yoongi was announcing dinner, your body was buzzing with annoyance. Or was it desire? Either way, you were about two seconds from ripping your hair at the roots. Jimin sat beside you, the first time he was within arms reach the entire evening. He grinned, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you close engulfing you with his sweet scent. 

 Stupidly, you found yourself relaxing in his arms. Head falling on his shoulder while a hand lifted to press against his stomach. He was warm but still a little wet from the pool. You felt the movement of his head but didn't bother with lifting your head to see who he was speaking too. Stupid, because seconds later the spot next to you was being taken up.

 Guess who.

 Of course, Jeon Jungkook was slipping into the space beside you, a cocky grin playing on his most likely soft lips. His eyes flickered over to Jimin's before he was dropping his focus back onto you.

 “We've got burgers and hot dogs, and Jin is coming out with the chicken,” Yoongi called out, stepping toward the table with a tray of meat in hand. The second the food was in reach, the boys were hurrying to load their plates.

 Like the ever so dotting boyfriend, Jimin loaded up your plate as he did his. Comfortable conversation surrounded the table, voices overlapping and thick strings of laughter falling from their lips. You weighed in where you could, beaming when you were able to make a few of them laugh along with you.

 It was fun. Talking to them, getting along. Despite the fact you had been dating Jimin for a while, conversations with most of his friends were surface level at most. It didn't really bother you, but it was a good feeling knowing that if needed, you could get along with these guys.

 “No, yeah... if you're into old-time movies, you should definitely check out...” Taehyung's words were fading into the background, your attention slipping from what he was saying and to the warm hand on your thigh. Jimin's. An unsuspecting smile on his lips when you looked up to catch his gaze. 

 Just barely catching the title of the movie Taehyung was referring to, you turned your attention back to him. “It's good? I should check it out.” He nodded, all at once losing interest in the conversation, Jin's story catching his ear.

 There was a mischievous glint in Jimin's eye as he spread your legs apart, tips of his fingers trailing up your bare thigh. His head tilting until his lips were able to reach the skin of your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses down the length.

 You felt your body melting into him. Ready to succumb to whatever he had in store for you, the tingle of anticipation rushing through your veins. A familiar heat spreading throughout your body, lips curling into your mouth as you waited. The press against your left side had your eyes snapping open, darting to the cool tattooed hand making it's way up to your thigh. Jungkook.

 His fingers inching up your thigh, closer and closer to your core while Jimin held your legs apart, fingers tight against your flesh. “If you don't like it, tell him to stop.” His words are hushed against your ear, and you're nodding quickly, hearing the sincerity in his voice. 

 Jungkook wastes no time, callused fingers finding your clit through the fabric of your bikini bottoms. He presses down, fingers moving in circles as your body jolts at the sudden friction. “She's sensitive,” He speaks as if he's taking notes rather than trying to hold a conversation. You hold your breath, legs spreading slightly. Jimin's lips fall from your skin, cheek resting against your shoulder so he can see.

 Never did you think you'd be the one to have such a penchant for something as risky as public foreplay, but here you were growing wetter by the second, the thought that either one of his friends could catch you with a simple turn of their heads. It had you unbelievably turned on, mixed with the fact that your boyfriend was watching you rather than doing it definitely added to it.

 Jungkook laughs beside you, but not at you. Delved in a conversation with Namjoon across the table as if his fingers weren't pushing your bottoms out of the way underneath the table. A long finger lazily traces over your wet folds. Jimin's chuckle covers the gasp that leaves your lips when Jungkook's fingers graze over your bare clit.

 Jin is smiling appreciatively in his direction at the support of his joke. You were going to get caught. The thought and the consequences weighing heavily on your mind, causing you to shift attempting to close your legs. “It's fine,” Jimin assures you with a whisper, strong hand holding your leg in place.

 The moment you're relaxing, Jungkook's hand is reaching down to grasp your other thigh. Easily lifting it to hook over his own, giving him total access to your throbbing pussy. It's not lost on you how hot it feels to be exposed like this, but you're not given any time to analyze what it means as soon as Jungkook traces his fingers over your entrance.

 The tips of his fingers take their time with gathering the wet arousal that had accumulated between your legs before they're moving back up to tease your tight hole. Teeth digging into your plump lip as the tips of his fingers slowly begin slipping into your core.

 Trying your damnedest to keep your face from giving away what was going on underneath the table. You force yourself to concentrate on the words coming from Namjoon's mind, although they're just words... not coherent enough to follow the actual story.

 Slowly, Jimin is reaching his thick fingers down between your legs, using his middle and index fingers to spread your lips further apart, giving him a better view. You gasp, Jungkook's fingers pumping shallowly in and out of you. 

 For a moment, your body stills, afraid you had been too loud just then. Calming when you realize none of them were looking in your direction, not even Jungkook who was the cause of all of this. No, he was seemingly wrapped in conversation with Taehyung, a teasing smirk on his lips that you guessed was meant for you.

 Jimin was the only one look at you, watching Jungkook's long fingers bury themselves deep inside of you. He's flexing them, curling and uncurling as the pad of his thumb fingers your needy clit. He's basically drooling at the sight, wet lazy kisses landing on your shoulder. His hand resting over his covered crotch, palming himself through the fabric. 

 A louder, desperate whimper is falling from your lips. This time catching the attention of Taehyung. Words coming to a halt as his eyes dart between the three of you, a wide smirk slipping onto his features. “Are you alright, Yn?” There's a teasing glint in his eye, letting you know he's not at all asking if you're alright. No, he knew exactly what was happening underneath the table and he was making it all of his business to tease you about it.

 Plastering a tight-lipped smile onto your lips, you muster all the strength you can to nod your head. “I'm fine,” There's a strain in your voice, giving him enough reason to pull a look of concern, his head tilting to the side.

 “Are you sure? You look a little flushed,” His brows furrow, topping off his fake worry and you're suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. The encounter is catching Namjoon's attention beside him, his gaze lifting to study your face. “Oh, yeah. You don't look so good.” He weighs in, actually looking worried about you.

 Jungkook takes this growing attention as an invitation to speed up the movement of his fingers. Hand tightening on your thigh, keeping you from snapping your legs shut. Two fingers plunging deep inside of you, tips brushing against the spongy spot inside of you. Jimin's domineering gaze watches your face, waiting for your response.

 However, it doesn't come. The thrusts of Jungkook's fingers, mixed with the relentless strokes of his thumb on your clit has a moan falling from your lips. It's loud and breathy, and definitely recognizable even if all attention wasn't on you. You see Jungkook's eyes widen from the corner of your eye, but he's being really careful about not looking directly at you.

 You do, actually, see him steal a glance in Jimin's direction... almost as if he's asking for guidance, but he's being ignored, Jimin's lust-filled eyes never leaving your face. “Take that kinky shit upstairs,” Yoongi speaks flatly, bored expression on his face as he stares at you.

 Jimin's hand is quick to reach between your legs, adjusting your bottoms as Jungkook withdraws his fingers from inside of you, pushing your thigh from his. You ignore the way your walls flutter at the sudden emptiness, snapping your legs shut as embarrassment reddens your cheeks and dampens your pussy.

 “Let's go.” There's no room for protest with the way he speaks, excusing himself from the table as he looks expectantly between you and Jungkook. The younger male is quick to stand, watching you as he pushes his glistening fingers into his mouth. Your heart pounds as he slowly sucks your juices from the digits.

 The other boys have turned their attention from you three, still, your body felt hot. Cheeks flushed and pussy pulsing with want. Need. You needed them, both of them. Need to have both of them on you, around you, inside you. With a breath, you're standing, following them into the house and up into Jimin's room.

 Jungkook shuts the bedroom door, flicking the lock as Jimin turns to look down at you. “You still not against this?” Eyes much softer now, gentle hands finding your hips in order to pull your body toward his. You're nodding without a second thought, want buzzing in your veins. No way were you backing out now.

 Despite the grin rapidly growing on his plush lips, Jimin was still asking: “Are you sure?” Your words chased his, hands reaching up to land on his jawline. “I'm sure,” Your lips found him, instantly being parted by their thickness. His tongue twists and tangles with yours, a single hand reaching to grasp your jaw, holding your head in place as he licks into your mouth.

 Suddenly, he's pulling back, soft eyes tinted with a dark desire. He's turning your head with the grip of his strong hand, your eyes finding Jungkook who had moved to stand directly behind you.

 Jungkook is quick to capture your lips with his. Soft lips tasting heavily of cherry, you kiss him back, body turning, melting into his as the erection between his legs brushes against your lower belly. He bites into your lower lip, tugging it slightly and pulling a whimper from his lips.

 You feel his smirk as his tongue slips past your parted lips, mapping out every inch of your mouth while his hands drop to your scarcely covered ass. Hips pushing back, involuntarily surrendering more of your ass to his. Jungkook's lips are falling from yours, hands sliding underneath the fabric of your bottoms to cup your bare ass.

 “Jungkook,” You gasp out when his hands squeeze down hard on your ass, grip pulling your body tight against his. With little to no effort, Jungkook is lifting your body off of the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He walks the two of you to the bed, laying your body onto the soft mattress.

 When he had moved was lost on you, Jimin now sitting comfortably on the chair adjacent to the bed. Hard cock straining against the fabric of his swim trunks, his hand resting over it as he watched you with his best friend.

 With your legs hanging loosely from his hips, Jungkook leans down to bury his head in the crook of your neck. Sucking wet hickeys into the skin while his large hands trail down the gentle curves of your body, fingers finding the tight bows on either side of your hips. Your breaths come out labored, rapidly losing yourself in the way he's tonguing at your skin, teeth grazing its sensitivity.

 “Fuck,” He groans, hips pushing into yours. The sound of his voice nearly startling you, with how quiet he has been since the start of all this. “I never thought I'd have a chance to have you like this,” He sighs softly against your skin. Only a second was spared for you to wonder just how often he thought about having you like this. If Jimin knew.

 Jungkook's hands were quickly traveling up your back, a single tug on the string of your bikini had it loosening around your chest. He wastes no time with discarding it, tossing it somewhere behind him before leaning down. Hot tongue connecting with your hardened bud, rolling it around in his mouth. A soft moan slips past your lips, head falling back just enough to catch sight of Jimin.

 Teeth worrying his plush lips, a hand-dipped into the front of his shorts as he watches you. Hooded eyes find yours and you swear you see his cock twitch in his hand. Your fingers tangled in Jungkook's hair, holding his head against your chest as he grinds his covered cock against the flimsy material of your bathing suit.

 Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his closer as you lift your hips. Jimin's groan mixes with the sound of yours, Jungkook's head lifting only for a moment to catch sight of his older friend, only to drop back down mouth latching onto your neglected nipple.

 “Make her cum, Kook,” Jimin speaks hastily growing impatient with how slow Jungkook was being. How he seemed to be taking his time, reveling in each moment he had with you. Allowing himself to memorize every inch of your body while he had the chance.

 The sight demand has Jungkook's body jumping to action, teeth grazing over your nipple as his hand travels down the front of your body dipping into your bottoms and covering your pussy without pause.

 Your legs squirm while his fingers toy with your bundle of nerves a wet trail of kisses, creating a line from your breasts down the middle of your body. You're sprawled out beneath him, legs wide as you wait for what you know is coming. It's not long before his head is between your legs, looking up at you with the sexiest pout and you feel as though you could cum at the sight.

 “You're soaked,” His head is tilting slightly, licking along your slit in one click motion and you're moaning out. “I've always wondered the sounds you'd make having your cute little pussy eaten.” His thumb is covering your clit, stroking it gently as your core flutters, from the growing smirk on his face, it's safe to say he noticed.

 Strong hands holding your legs apart, Jungkook lunges forward to press his soft lips against your folds. He sucks kisses against your damp lips, tongue stroking against them slowly. You're whimpering, can feel your pussy dripping as you reach down to tangle your fingers in his soft locks.

 He's quick with the up-down movement of his tongue against your slick pussy lips, tracing over each ridge and cure but avoiding that one spot he's sue would have you falling apart instantly. Instead, kept his thumb pressed against it still, motionless.

 Your hips lift, rocking into his face while his tongue lowers to tease your wanting entrance. Large hands curling around your hips to grasp the cure of your ass, pulling your body tighter against his mouth. “Fuck, Jungkook!” The shout falling from your lips as he ups his speed, the tip of his nose nudging against your clit.

 Jimin's breathy groan sounds from behind you, the familiar fap of his hand working against his hardened cock filling your ears and egging you on. His thumb slowly plays with the head, spreading the precum leaking from it. Having him watch you, turned on by the sight of you moaning his friend's name, turned on enough that he was jerking himself off at the sight. It made you feel hot, an unexplainable rush of desire coursing through your veins.

 Jungkook is pulling his tongue from inside of you it quickly being replaced with two long fingers. He pushes all the way to the knuckle, curling them to press deep inside of you. You feel the coil in your stomach slowly tighten as he continues his movements, your orgasm approaching.

 A silent scream leaves your lips the moment his lips are wrapping around your neglected clit, sucking softly as his tongue teases it. Hips lifting and rolling, body convulsing as your orgasm begins to wash over you. Jungkook's grip tightens around your shaking thighs, holding your legs in place as he pushes another finger inside of you.

 His lips suck down harder, head tilting to the side to twist your clit along with it. That paired with the new stretch of his added finger have you cumming hard all at once. His name leaves your lips in a desperate mewl, grip tightening in his hair as your back arches off the bed.

 Jungkook's pulling his fingers from your body, letting up on the suction around your clit relaxing into gentle licks of his tongue. His strong hands cover your ass, holding your body against his mouth as you ride out your orgasm. He laps up every bit of your wet cum, ignoring the sensitive twitch of your legs until he's finished. Until he's satisfied and sitting upon his knees, licking your arousal from his lips.

 He's staring at you with so much want, lust, lips slightly swollen and very red. His hair sticks up messily around his head from the grip of your fingers, chest heaving with heavy breath as he watches you.

 Jimin stands from his position behind you, hands tugging his shorts the rest of the way down his legs before he's taking slow strides in your direction. With much effort, you're lifting your body until you're seated. He grins down at you, a hand wrapped around his length while the other reaches for the nape of your neck.

 “I want you to suck me off while Jungkookie fucks you open, how's that sound?” He's wearing such a sweet smile on his face, a direct contradiction to the words that fall from his lips and the vulgar things they convey. You're nodding your head quickly, either way, leaning into his touch as his hand travels to rest against your jaw.

 Jungkook has stood from the bed, discarding his shorts in the process. He's rummaging on the other side of the room, but your focus is not on him. No, your attention is stuck on the man in front of you. His soft thumb brushing against your lower lip, your mouth falling open. He grins.

 “You made me so hard baby. Loved seeing you cum on Kookie's tongue, did it feel good?” You're nodding your head, eyes snapping up to find his. He chews on his lower lip, tracing the curves of your lips with the tip of his cock. You try to move your head to coax his cock into your mouth, but he's having too much fun teasing you to let that happen.

 Pushing your tongue out, you manage to slide it over the underside of his cock. He groans, head lolling to the side as he gives in, slowly guiding his cock past your lips and into your mouth. Your lips latch onto his dick and quickly begin licking and suckling at his length. His teeth dig into his lip as he watches you, hand reaching to grasp your hair.

 “Your mouth feels so good, baby.” He pants, rocking his hips forward slightly. Your body warms at the praise, sucking harder and speeding the bob of your head. His lower belly tightens, both hands tangled in your hair and tightening to hold your head still. Mouth widening, you allow him to push his hips forward, taking more of his cock down your throat. 

 You let him gag you, spit gathering around your lips as tears brim in your eyes. Hands braced on his hips as if that'd be enough to slow his movements. With the fucked out look on his face, the grip in your hair; it was obvious he didn't plan on letting up any time soon. Not like you even wanted him too, anyway.

 Jungkook was coming to crouch behind you, large hands finding your hips. The palm of his hand is slapping against one of your cheeks, forcing your body to jolt forward a muffled moan leaving your lips. The movement pushing you down further onto Jimin's cock, the head hitting against the back of your throat causing a cough to fall from your lips.

 Reluctantly, you pull back, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to his length as heavy coughs shook your body. Jungkook let out a loud laugh, hands on your hips positioning your body onto your knees. Jimin's unmistakably gentle hand rubbed at your back, attempting to soothe your coughs as he lined his cock with your lips once more.

 You were taking him into your mouth once more, sucking with much more fervor this time. He chuckles above you, eyes flickering up to Jungkook who's fingers caressing your wet pussy lips. “She's so wet, Hyung. Think she liked choking on your cock.” He comments, fingers lazily stroking your pussy.

 Warmth spreads through your body at his words. Jungkook was much different from Jimin, sexually as well as everything else. Where Jimin never mentioned how much he knew you liked to suck him off, Jungkook was more than willing to voice his revelation that you were particularly dripping. As if he got off on the thought of embarrassing you, and it should annoy you, but it only made you want him more.

 Wanted to prove to him that you didn't so easily wither, that it would take a lot more to make you shy away. No matter the blush the took over his cheeks every time he was crude.

 His hand reached for your hair, tangling in the soft strands and slowly pulling you off of his friend's cock. Your back was soon pressed flush against his chest, a strong arm wrapping around your waist. You can see Jimin clearly now, muscles glistening with a thin layer of sweat as his palm stroked his wet cock.

 Jungkook's dick is pressed firmly against your ass cheek and your hips slowly rock back, rubbing against it. He bites back a groan, hand dropping to hold your hips in place. “You want me to fuck you, Yn?” His mouth is right by your ear, but he's speaking loud enough for both you and Jimin to hear. “Want me to make you cum, again? But this time on my cock... make you fall apart while your boyfriend watches, you'd like that, huh?” Rough fingers find your clit, flicking and tugging at it. And you nod frantically, spreading your legs wide from him and avoiding the lust-filled gaze of your boyfriend.

 He reaches for your chin, lifting your head so you're looking directly at Jimin. Jungkook moved behind you, shifting his hips until the tip of his cock nudges your awaiting entrance. “Say it,” He hisses into your ear. “Tell him,” His lower lip drags over the shell of your ear, fingers dipping lower to spread your lips for him.

 “I want-,” You feel heat growing in your chest, Jimin's expectant gaze making you feel small. He's stroking his cock much slower now, waiting on labored breaths. Jungkook's fingers pinch your clit and pleasure shoots through your veins, body twitching. “Don't be shy, princess. He can take it...” His fingers rub figure eights into the bundle of nerves.

 There was no telling how you looked right now, fucked out and panting. Desperately trying to wiggle your hips in hope to steal away more than he was letting you have. Lips are swollen and cheeks tear-stained from having Jimin's cock down your throat moments before. Your back arches against his chest as he drags the length of his cock over your slit, teasing you.

 “I want!” You shout, an electric shock of pleasure fueling you, “Jimin, fuck... watch me. I want you to watch me when Jungkook fucks me,” You plead, crazed eyes staying trained on your boyfriend. “Want you to see him make me cum.”

 “Fuck,” Jimin groans, at the same time Jungkook is pushing inside of you. His thick cock spreading your folds and breaking through your walls. You let out a loud whine, pushing back against him welcoming each inch of his length. He's groaning only when he's bottoming out, hands falling to your hips, body dropping onto your knees again.

 “She's so tight,” Jungkook sighs, pulling his hips back until the tip of his cock is catching on your pursed entrance. He pushes forward quickly, pulling a wail from your lips. Repeating the action until he feels your walls loosening around him.

 He's soon falling into a steady pace, hips snapping against yours as his fingers bruise your hips. Your legs spread wide as you fist at the bedsheets below you, whiny moans leaving your lips as you move back against him. Jimin steps back, no doubt taking in the sight in before him. The way your eyes continue to roll, flushed cheeks and mouth open wide. How your back curves into the globes of your ass the ripple with each strong thrust of Jungkook's hips. “Fuck, baby. You're taking his cock so well,” Jimin praises with a proud look on his face. 

 His soft hand brushes your hair out of your face, holding it back in a makeshift ponytail. “How does it feel, baby?” Weakly, you lift your gaze to look up at him. “S-so good,” Voice hoarse and breathy. Jungkook grins behind you, angling his hips to slide deeper inside of you.

 “Such a good girl,” Jimin's free hand wraps around his cock. And your mouth is opening before your mind can register what he wants, warm cock filling your mouth, your lips wrapping tightly around the base.

 He's sliding down your throat easily, your head bobbing in time with the slow thrusts of his hips. You reach your hands forward to grasp his balls, hands massaging against the velvety skin and his pants. Incoherent mumbles of praise fall from Jimin's lips as his head falls back.

 He looks so hot, even from this angle. The veins of his neck prominent with the clench of his teeth. Collarbones thick and on full display, housing his well worked on pecks and the tight ripples of his abs. His hand lifts to grasp your hair, holding your head in place to thrust shallowly down your throat.

 “S-shit, I'm cumming.” Jungkook whines from behind you, hips pressed flush against your ass while his legs tighten. You feel the familiar expansion of the condom around his cock as the sounds of his whiny moans fill the room. Jimin lifts his head, a chuckle leaving his lips as his eyes find the pink-cheeked man in front of him.

 “That was quick,” Jimin teases, pulling his hips back until his cock is falling from your lips. Jungkook does the same. Your body shocked instantly with emptiness, you whine in protest, hips wiggling in search of your release.

 “It's been a while,” Jungkook defends, slumping against the mattress, arms lifting to cover his eyes. Desperately trying to slow his breathing, not paying any mind to the cum that leaks the condom in thick globs painting the sheets underneath him. “Did Kookie even make you cum?” Jimin's words are directed to you and you're quick to shake your head.

 He tsks, hand reaching for your thigh and flipping your body onto its back. Your legs spread as he lowers himself between them, cock easily pushing its way deep into your pussy. A moan falls from your lips, hips lifting to meet his thrust. “Let me show you how to do it.”

 Jungkook is removing his arm from his eyes, turning his attention to yours and Jimin's bodies. He watches as Jimin's firm ass lifts and drops into you, each powerful thrust pushing your body up. Watches as your nails mark up his smooth back. Listens to the way his groans mix with your whimpers.

 Your eyes catch his for a moment, and you're soon realizing that he's not watching you. Mouth parted and eyes dazed as he stares. But not at you. Jimin's reaching his hand down, fingers finding your clit as he pushes you toward your nearing orgasm. Eyes screwing shut, you let yourself feel it.

 Toes curling and back arching as your release washes over you. Jimin hisses from the way your walls clench around his cock, his thrusts becoming sloppy, untimed. Jungkook watches as he cums, filling you up. Your name falling from his lips in a breathy moan. Your legs tighten around his waist, holding his body tight against yours.

 Minutes pass before Jimin is pulling out, rolling onto his back with a huff. He grins wide down at you, lips catching yours in a loving kiss as his hand moves between your legs, pushing his escaped cum back into your pussy. You can't help the giggle that leaves your lips from the feeling.

 “You did so well, baby.” He's complimenting you after his lips are releasing yours. You smile wide, eyes shifting between him and Jungkook. “It was amazing, thank you.” Jungkook nods his acknowledgment while Jimin presses another kiss to your lips, before standing from the bed.

 “I'm gonna go run you a bath,” Jimin grins, kissing the top of your head gently before disappearing into the bathroom. The second he's gone, Jungkook is standing from the bed. His cheeks are flushed, hair messy, and he looks out of breath; but nevertheless he's moving as if he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

 You let him. Don't bother to ask him why. You know why. And now that you knew, all the little things surrounding were starting to make sense. As if a neon sign had been flashing the warning from the beginning, but you had chosen to ignore it. Explained it away as Jungkook being a protective best friend, but you were wrong. You were so wrong. Realization was hitting you all at once and you wondering how many of their conquests found out the exact same thing.

 Jungkook was in love with Jimin.

requests are open

[spidersfanfics]

Soft

Josuke x Okuyasu | Fluff & Light Angst | Sharing Clothes | Sentient Stands

Okuyasu takes shelter from the rain at Josuke's house. He's just now noticing how soft everything about Josuke is.

"Come on Oku, run!" Josuke called out, fighting to keep his balance on the wet ground. "My house is closer, we'll hide out there." The two were being pursued, not by an enemy stand user for once, but by the oncoming rainstorm that had been threatening to break all day. They'd had the misfortune of getting caught out in it on their way home from school and were now in the process of getting thoroughly soaked. They both raised their schoolbags over their heads, hoping to shield themselves from the rain even a little bit as they ducked their heads and ran. Josuke had a brief thought about the homework that was surely getting soaked but decided ultimately that keeping the water out of his eyes was more important.

By the time they'd reached Josuke's doorstep, the rain was coming down in buckets. "Come on in," Josuke said, grabbing Okuyasu's wrist with one hand and fumbling for his keys with the other.

Okuyasu gave him a hesitant look and debated resisting but didn't even try hard enough to break free of Josuke's grip. "My house isn't that far from here," he said half-heartedly, "I should just go home."

"And get more soaked?" Josuke asked as the door swung open. "You're going to catch a cold or something in that creaky old house of yours. Just stay here for a bit until it clears." He moved to tug Okuyasu inside and this time he did not resist.

The two breathed twin sighs of relief as the door shut behind them. Effectively locking out the weather brewing on the other side. The howling of the wind and the drumming of the rain quieted dramatically in an instant. Josuke shook his head, flinging off droplets of rainwater before calling into the house. "Mom! I'm home! Okuyasu's here too, he's going to stay for a while until the rain stops." Without waiting for a reply, he slipped his shoes off, peeled off his wet socks and began to head upstairs to his room.

Okuyasu followed, feeling somewhat self conscious as Josuke's mom yelled back in response. "As long as you still get your homework done," she called from the kitchen. "Don't take this as an excuse to just play video games all afternoon." There was a pause as she seemed to consider her work at hand. "Will he be staying for dinner?"

Josuke looked at Okuyasu who seemed torn between politely declining and enthusiastically accepting the implied offer of food. So Josuke took it upon himself to answer for him. "Yeah, if you don't mind making some extra for him tonight. That would be great, thanks mom."

"Thank you Mrs. Higashikata," Okuyasu said as well before following Josuke upstairs.

Once the two had reached his room, Josuke opened his bag and started tossing things onto the ground so that they would dry easier. He cringed at the sorry state of his papers and frowned. "Man, this sucks. Do you think Koichi got home okay? He wanted to go somewhere with Yukako today but maybe his stuff isn't as ruined and we can copy off some stuff tomorrow."

"I sure hope so," Okuyasu said, digging around in his bag and revealing that this things were no better off. He looked up to see Josuke shrugging off the jacket of his school uniform and followed suite.

"Just hang that on the back of a chair or something to dry," Josuke told him, barely paying him any mind as he moved over to the full length mirror in his room and pouted at the state of his hair. "Well, that's ruined for the rest of the day," he grumbled. Josuke then turned to Okuyasu still sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging uncomfortably at his wet shirt. "I'm going to go take a shower," he said with a soft smile, "You can too if you'd like."

Okuyasu let his gaze dip down for just a moment at that before flashing a cheeky smile, "Better not."

Josuke let that process for a moment before his eyes widened and he spluttered slightly with a prominent blush on his face. "I didn't mean like that," he stammered, "You can just, I mean, if you want to after I'm done."

Okuyasu laughed, pleased at himself for being able to get his boyfriend so flustered. "I know, I know. It's just fun to tease you. But seriously, I'm fine. If I really need to I can shower when I get home." Josuke nodded and turned to leave but before he could exit the room, Okuyasu called out again. "But I would like to change into something dry. I don't have any clothes here though. Obviously."

"Oh for sure dude," Josuke stifled a laugh at the awkward way Okuyasu had worded that and slid open his closet door on his way out. "Just borrow my clothes for now," he said as he grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom. "I'll try to be quick. Wear whatever you want." He closed the door behind him and Okuyasu stood at last to move towards the closet.

With some difficulty, he peeled his wet clothes off until he was stripped down to his boxers and surveyed his options. He looked for a moment at the chest of drawers but quickly decided that actually rummaging through Josuke's clothes felt too intimate, even if they were dating now. He'd just take something off the hangers. His eyes landed on a plain blue hoodie shoved to the back that he'd never seen Josuke wear before. With only a moment's hesitation he grabbed it and pulled it over his head. Okuyasu sighed quietly at the warmth of the hoodie as well as its scent. A small part of his mind wondered if that was a weird thing to notice. Though it did smelled nice, mostly like laundry detergent but also like Josuke. He subconsciously wrapped his arms around himself, hugging the soft fabric closer to his body. So soft...

Now for pants. But yet again, the closed drawers sent him into a spiral of overthinking until he decided it was easier if he just skipped on that part for now. He decided to retreat to Josuke's bed and stay there until Josuke returned. With little thought to the matter, he snuggled down under the blankets to warm up further. He tried his best not to think of what Josuke was doing just one room over. Tried to let the sound of the shower just blend into the rain outside and avoid picturing Josuke naked and so close to him yet still so far. It wasn't easy.

At last, the door clicked open once more and Josuke came back into the room. A towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hand as he dried his hair off.

Okuyasu sat up eagerly at Josuke's return. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Josuke with his hair down, nor was it the first time seeing Josuke shirtless. After all, they'd had plenty of sleepovers in the past. But still, it was such a rare occurrence that the sight punched the air from his lungs every time. "Welcome back," he said a little breathlessly.

Josuke looked up and grinned at him though his smile wavered just a little seeing the hoodie that Okuyasu had chosen. "Oh it's that hoodie," he said lightly as he approached the bed

"Yeah, I'd never seen you wear it before so I figured you'd mind less if I wore it?" Okuyasu said, questioning his own logic even as he spoke. "Is there something wrong with this hoodie?"

"Oh no," Josuke shook his head, "Not really. It's just that, it was a birthday gift from my grandpa one year. I haven't worn it since..." he trailed off, "Well, you know. And that was before we met."

Okuyasu gave Josuke a look full of naked concern, "I'm sorry Josuke, I had no idea. If you want I can wear something else."

Josuke cracked a smile and tossed the towel he'd been using to dry his hair at Okuyasu playfully. "Nah, it's fine. It's been long enough anyway and I'm sure he wouldn't want me to be wasting clothing over something like that anyway. Besides, you look nice in it."

"It's just a plain hoodie," Okuyasu blushed.

"Yeah," Josuke agreed, "But it's my hoodie." He leaned in to give Okuyasu a quick kiss before backing off to the closet. "Now let me put on some clothes and I'll join you." He grabbed some pajama pants before letting his remaining towel drop to the floor. Instinctively, Okuyasu looked away, not daring to turn his head back until he felt Josuke's weight dip the bed. "Move over," said Josuke as he climbed up next to Okuyasu. "It's cold out here." Josuke had opted not to put on a shirt and Okuyasu's eyes trailed appreciatively over his boyfriend's well toned abs before throwing the blanket aside to invite Josuke closer to himself. Josuke raised an eyebrow, "No pants?"

Okuyasu blushed, having momentarily forgotten that decision he'd made. "Oh yeah," he stammered, "I felt weird digging through your drawers but you didn't have any pants outside," he tried to explain.

"So you thought not wearing pants at all was better?" Josuke asked, a teasing tone in his voice.

"I may not have thought it through very well," Okuyasu admitted.

Josuke laughed and shifted the two of them on the bed until the blanket was curled around them both in a way that still allowed him to rest his head in Okuyasu's lap. The blanket keeping his still damp hair from making direct contact with Okuyau's bare thighs. "It's fine," he sighed as he relaxed into Okuyasu's warmth and his eyes began to flutter shut. "This is just fine."

Okuyasu looked down at his boyfriend and felt something warm inside his chest. A feeling of happiness and peace. Things he couldn't quite remember feeling until he'd met Josuke, as well as his other friends now like Koichi and Yukako. His hands absentmindedly drifted to rest first by his side and on Josuke's chest. Then drifting closer to Josuke's face, one hand trailing fingers over Josuke's cheek. Okuyasu hesitated for a moment as he stared at Josuke's expression of content. "Hey Josuke..."

"You can play with my hair if you want," Josuke said without opening his eyes.

Okuyasu flinched, his fist clenching on empty air, "Really? You never let anyone touch your hair."

Josuke smiled and looked up at Okuyasu at that. His eyes full of such love that Okuyasu momentarily forgot how to breathe. "It's not styled right now anyway," he said by way of explanation. "Besides, you're my boyfriend. I trust you."

Slowly, like approaching a cat who could unsheathe claws at any moment, Okuyasu let his fingers tangle through Josuke's hair. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt how soft Josuke's hair was after it had just been washed. Soft like his hoodie, soft like his blanket, soft like his smile. "Woah," he breathed.

"Having fun?" Josuke chuckled.

"Don't laugh at me," Okuyasu whined, somewhat embarrassed. "Your hair is just really nice. You should wear it down more." When Josuke only grimaced and didn't answer, Okuyasu hummed and allowed himself to put more pressure into the touch, massaging Josuke's scalp as he did so. "Hey, is it true that you wear your hair like that because of the man who helped you when you were sick? Because you think he's a hero or whatever?"

There was a long moment of silence, the only sound their gentle breathing, before Josuke responded. "More or less yeah," he said, his eyes falling shut once more. "But I don't do it because I think I'm a hero too, or that I want to be a hero. I don't do it to honor him or anything like that. But rather, he was willing to help us out during one of the worst snowstorms I can remember even though he was a complete stranger. I don't know what his motive was exactly but he wanted to help other people for one reason or another. And that's all I really want to do too. Help people in need."

He let out an appreciative hum as Okuyasu continued to play with his hair and paused before continuing his story. "Even when my fever was at its worst. I never thought about the fact that I could have died. All I could think was that I was worrying my mom so much by being sick. Having to raise me on her own couldn't have been easy for her and so I wanted so badly to get better, if only just to make her happy again. I never wanted the people I cared about to be hurting if I could help it."

Okuyasu looked up as Crazy Diamond materialized in front of him. He sat up in bed next to Okuyasu, his ghostly legs intersecting with Okuyasu's to rest under Josuke's head as well. And though his boyfriend's eyes were still closed, Okuyasu could guess that the tears shining in Crazy Diamond's eyes were mirrored in Josuke's. Wordlessly, he allowed The Hand to take form as well, reaching over and patting Crazy Diamond comfortingly on the back. The two stands shared a look, silent but saying more than either of their users could ever guess.

"I think that's why Crazy Diamond manifested the way he did," Josuke spoke up again and Okuyasu wasn't sure if he was even aware that his stand had been summoned. "All my life I'd only ever wanted to protect and heal other people," Josuke admitted. "Looking up to my grandpa, seeing how hard my mom worked. My own needs have always been secondary. So along came Crazy Diamond. Able to fix anything other than his own user." He grunted slightly in discomfort and Okuyasu loosened his grip on Josuke's hair with a bit of a jolt.

He hadn't even noticed how much his fists were clenching. "What do you think my stand represents then?" He asked.

Josuke rolled over to lay on his side so that his face was mere inches away from Okuyasu's stomach and he curled up closer to his boyfriend. "I dunno," he said, his voice slightly muffled- No, just softer. "That's up to you to decide I guess."

Okuyasu thought about it for a long time, "I think at the time, when I was manifesting The Hand, my biggest wish was that I could make all my problems disappear. Get rid of everything bad in my life and just not think about it again. So that's probably what my stand means. The ability to erase anything I wanted, and even I don't know where it goes after that."

"What about now?" Josuke asked, "Do you still want to run away?"

Okuyasu smiled, "Not with you by my side. Now I want to bring everything good in my life closer to me and fight off whatever tries to hurt them."

"You tried that trick with me when we first met," Josuke pointed out, "Bringing me closer. But that was more to punch me than to protect me I guess."

"Maybe The Hand just already knew what was in store for us, better than I knew myself," Okuyasu joked and Josuke laughed. A bright, happy sound that sent butterflies fluttering in Okuyasu's stomach.

"Yeah, maybe," Josuke agreed. For a moment he seemed tempted to say more but before he could, he was interrupted by Tomoko's voice shouting up from downstairs.

"Dinner's ready!" She yelled. "Come help set the table, Josuke."

Josuke sat up with a sigh and Okuyasu untangled his hand from Josuke's hair. Josuke in turn slid off the bed while Crazy Diamond went into the closet to retrieve a shirt for Josuke and a pair of pants for Okuyasu. "Come on," said Josuke, "Let's go eat." He looked out his bedroom window, "The rain's stopped too. So you can go home after dinner." Though the statement wasn't a question, the tone of Josuke's voice made it almost sound like one. As if he was silently asking Okuyasu to stay instead.

As tempting as it was, Okuyasu shook his head and recalled The Hand who disappeared but only after giving its user a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "Sounds good, Josuke," Okuyasu said as he put on the pants that he'd been handed. "Let's go."