#just take turns having someone sit out to run props for the week guys!

[benisasoftboi]

ChrisTrev not because of their personalities, or dynamic, or implied backstories, or the actors that play them, or really anything to do with them specifically as people at all, but because I work at an amateur theatre and I can think of few recipes for ridiculous chaotic hilarious disaster that are more potent than a director dating his head technician

[pitviperofdoom]

Jongerry prompt: reunion after one thought the other was dead?

Tim wasn’t sure what to make of the guy. 

They met in an awkward almost-collision at the institute’s front door, Tim rearing back in surprise, the other flinching away from the sudden movement. He was lanky, and probably would’ve been tall without the permanent slouch to his spine. His hair was a dull shade of mousy brown, and looked like it had been hacked short with kitchen scissors. His clothes hung loose and ill-fitting on his body. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

Tim took a wild guess. “Here to make a statement?” he asked.

The man grimaced. “Maybe later.”

“I’d make it quick if I were you,” Tim chuckled, holding the door open for him. “Jon was in a good mood before lunch, and those don’t tend to last long.”

Halfway through the door, the man froze. “Who?”

“Jon Sims, the head archivist,” Tim said carefully. “He’s the one who takes statements, so…”

“Oh.” The man’s face was blank. “He’s… that’s… down in the archives, yeah?”

“I can show you how to get there?” Tim offered. Whatever statement this guy had, it must have been rough.

"Sure, thanks," the guy said distractedly.

In spite of the accepted offer, the guy quickly pulled ahead, and Tim found himself trailing behind as the scruffy stranger led the way to the basement stairs. Before long, he was jogging to keep up.

That was why, when the man suddenly stopped at the top of the steps, Tim crashed straight into his back.

"Hey, what did you—"

A hand closed tight around his arm, stopping him from shouldering past. The man had gone still, staring intently down the steps. There was nothing to see except the bottom of the stairs, and the mouth of the hallway that led to the archives.

"Smell that?"

Confused, Tim sniffed. At first all he could smell was dust and old paper, but then, beneath it, as if carried on a draft, came a familiar musty, wet stench.

"Damn worms," He muttered. "We've had a bit of an infestation—dunno if you saw them on your way in—"

"I'm gonna need you to shut up and go back outside," the man interrupted. "Maybe pull the fire alarm on your way out, get everyone out of the building."

"Excuse me?" Tim demanded. The man was already releasing him and moving on, so Tim grabbed him before he could make it two more steps. "Hey, what the hell are you—"

"Listen." The man turned, deftly winching his arm out of Tim’s grip. "I have had a very long day. I was hoping it would end with a long shower, a change of clothes, and a minimum twenty-minute hug from someone who means the world to me. Instead, there's something very nasty down there that I need to deal with. Kindly piss off."

Tim's blood ran cold. "You—you mean Prentiss is—" He stopped. He had a million questions, but maybe just this once they could wait. "My friends are down there."

The man spared a moment to look, if possible, even more exhausted than before. "Great. Fine. Stay close and don't fuck me."

***

Tim's head swam with the gas. His body felt strangely detached as he heaved the fire extinguisher against the wall, again and again until he felt the plasterboard give way. His strange companion drew back as if preparing to do a run-up, and Tim hurled himself into the space and finally broke through.

His first view into the dimly lit storage room was of three familiar faces with varying levels of shock, alarm, and growing relief.

"Hey, guys!" Tim gasped out.

Sasha was already struggling to her feet; Tim was about to go in for a hug when he was roughly shoved out of the way. A gas canister landed on the floor with a heavy thunk as the stranger lurched his way past Tim.

A strangled cry broke the shocked silence, and it took Tim a moment to realize it had come from Jon. His friend was sitting on the floor, propped up against a stack of boxes, one leg wrapped in bloodstained bandages. He stared at the man in blank, silent shock.

The stranger moved as if to lunge, but stopped when Jon held up a shaking hand.

"Wait." Jon's voice broke. He was fumbling something out of his pocket, wincing when the movement jarred his leg. "Wait, just—" 

"Mmhm," the man said in a strangled voice, fidgeting but staying where he was.

Jon finally wrestled his wallet out of his pocket, ripped it open, and pulled out a photo—a Polaroid? His eyes flickered between it and the man standing over him.

The wallet fell to the floor. With a sudden burst of energy, Jon heaved himself upright, and managed to stand for all of a second before his leg gave out and sent him pitching forward. The man caught him before he could fall and yanked him into a hug.

"What the fuck, Gerry," Jon choked out.

Sasha was eyeballing Tim frantically, but all Tim could do was shrug back.

"I'm sorry," the man—Gerry—mumbled, face buried in the side of Jon's neck.

"I thought—she told me that you—" Jon stared blankly over Gerry's shoulder, looking at the others without seeing them. "Where have you been?"

"Couple of hunters picked up our trail in the woods in Pennsylvania," Gerry answered. "We split up. They caught me. Didn't kill me, just… didn't let me leave either. Sorry I didn't contact you right when I escaped, I just—I was afraid I'd get your hopes up and get killed on the way home."

In the silence that followed, Martin let out a strangled "Um."

Jon jumped, and his teary eyes focused back on them. "Oh. Right. Er." He tried to pull back, without much success since Gerry was the only thing keeping him upright. "E-everyone, this is Gerry."

"You just finished telling us he was dead," said Sasha.

"Yes, well." Jon managed a watery smile. "I've been wrong before."

"We had a moment about it."

"Right." Without warning, Gerry reached down and swung Jon up into his arms in a bridal carry, ignoring Jon's squawk of protest. "Let's go. We can talk later—and we will be talking later—"

"Gerry!"

"Seriously, I turn around and you're fighting the Corruption with fire extinguishers, and you're the bloody Archivist."

"Put me down, you absolute—"

"No, you've got holes in your leg." Gerry shouldered past Tim and stepped back into the tunnel, carrying a disgruntled Jon with little apparent effort. "You three coming, or what?"

[imagineredwood]

Summoned

Summary: The guys all share you, their perfect girl, but when Bishop requests you first thing in the morning and finds out that someone has already gotten to you early, he's not exactly thrilled.

Pairing: Bishop Losa x female reader

Warnings: Free use implied, oral sex female receiving, overstimulation, quite literally flicking the bean 🫘

Word count: 1K

A/N: ........not requested, I’ve just had this in my brain and drafts for a long time and have been holding off, not sure if this was gonna land well but I finally said fuck it and found the courage to post it and now we’re here. Probably going to turn it into a series like the Crybaby one

The hand on your lower back was warm as it touched you gently. You paused pouring the coffee into the mug and turned, finding EZ standing there with a smile. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek near your eye, your lashes ticking him as your eye fluttered closed.

"Bish wants to see you."

You nodded, a small bashful smile coming to your lips. EZ used the hand on your back to usher you towards the Templo door and you went, knocking gently even though you were requested.  His voice was muffled when it told you to come in but you still heard it. You slid the door and walked in, Bishop's eyes on you as soon as you appeared. His eyes raked over you.

Taking in the sway of your hips as you walked.

The way your breasts looked so soft in your top, your nipples slightly visible. They weren't hard, but you had long since stopped wearing bras in the clubhouse when it was just the boys and you. He watched your thighs as they led out of your shorts, smooth and begging to be bit. Bishop was gentle with you, mostly. But he could also be harsh sometimes. Deep bites and sharp spanks. Especially when he felt undermined or disregarded.

And this week he had been made to feel both plenty.

You walked all the way up to him, hands folded neatly in front of you as you looked at him, waiting. He simply took a long drag from his cigar, eyes dark and lusting as they stared up at you.

"Shorts off. Sit in front of me."

His other hand tapped the table right in front of him and you nodded, shimmying out of your shorts and hopping up onto the table. You sat there still, legs slightly spread, hands resting on the table on either side of your knees. Bishop continued to smoke, eyes on you.

"Lean back a little."

You listened and moved your hands behind you, propping yourself up a bit as you leaned back.

"Good girl. You always do what you're told."

You smiled softly, the tiny breath you let out at the praise running straight to the President's cock.

"Because that's what you are. Right? You're a good girl for us? You take whatever we give you with a smile?"

You nodded again, your eyes bright and Bishop could tell all your thoughts were melting away.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes, Bishop."

He took a deep drag again before putting the cigar down to rest on the ashtray, leaning forward. His fingers were warm as they trailed over the front of your panties, running up and down along your slit. He watched your breathing quicken but he kept up with his teasing for a handful of minutes before he finally hooked his index finger in the corner of the fabric, pulling it to the side and exposing your pussy to him. It was puffy, more so than usual, and he chucked, knowing exactly what had taken place.

"Angel ate you out this morning, didn't he."

You giggled breathlessly and nodded.

"Uh, yeah. He woke me up."

Bishop nodded, knowing exactly how your sensitive skin looked when the bearded man eagerly ravaged you with his mouth. They all did. Angel would pin your hips down with his forearms and you had nowhere to escape from the scratch of the coarse hair nor his unrelenting tongue. Bishop chuckled and tapped his finger against your clit, getting the exact jolt from you that he was expecting.

"Poor little thing. Must be so sensitive."

You nodded and bit your lip as you looked down and watched him. You knew him well enough to know the sympathy was inauthentic. His hand reared back and delivered a slap, your thighs closing slightly of their own volition. It wasn't a hard slap, but the sensitivity heightened the feeling. He did it again, and again, then once more, chucking darkly at your soft whimpers. He cupped you with his hand and then rubbed along you, using the palm of his hand to dig into your lips and clit each time his hand reached your mound. He removed his hand then and you sighed, thinking that maybe he was done with the torture. Instead, he used his fingers to spread you open, your clit bare and fully exposed. You swallowed, eyes trained on him, wondering what he was going to do next. You expected maybe another slap. Perhaps a kiss if he was feeling generous.

You weren't expecting the sharp direct flick that had you squealing. Your thighs instinctively tried to close but Bishop wedged his shoulders forward, forcing them open.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you were playing favorites."

You shook your head feverishly, eyes trained on him.

"No, no. Of course not."

The President stared at you for a handful of seconds more, your eyes pleading. For what exactly, you weren't sure, but he nodded once and then placed his hands on your hips, dragging you closer to his mouth. He didn't say anything else after that, simply burying his face into you. He attacked your clit on purpose, knowing Angel had likely not taken it easy on you.

Neither would he.

He kissed and sucked and moaned and growled and laved his tongue against you, hands preventing you from getting away as your hips bucked and writhed. It didn't take long for you to reach the edge, hands gripping his forearms, your nails biting into his skin as you came. By the time your vision had returned, he was sitting back in his chair again, cigar between his lips once again. You sat back upright and he chuckled at the state of you.

Eyes glazed over. Mouth hung open ever so slightly. Cheeks warm. Chest heaving. He admired you, drinking in your beauty as you sat before him trying to gather yourself. You were wrecked and he hadn't even taken his cock out yet. 

Yet.

General taglist

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[bowieandqueen11]

Dylan Lenivy With A Protective S/O Would Include...

Request: Dylan from the quarry with an s/o who’s like really strong. Like wrestle bears strong (or in the quarry case wrestle werewolves strong) and is very protective. Like i mean picking Dylan up and running or taking hits for him.

I genuinely love Dylan so much time to work through my writer's block for him bby!! :)

Warning: Strong language, mentions of blood/ injury, mentions of guns and werewolf attacks!

(I do not own the Quarry or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @moafleco.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Dylan Lenivy: darling boy, absolute light of my life!! I full on expected to come into this game and have Max be my favourite because I loved Skyler Gisondo in Booksmart and Night at the Museum 3 but Dylan really side swept my ass here and stole my heart I've got to be honest.

You can bet your ass during the whole Werewolf Attack night at Hackett's Quarry, Dylan will use whatever battery is left on his phone sending you cheesy texts just to check in and make sure you're okay. Be ready for your phone to ding about a thousand times a minute, until Kaitlyn finally cracks and shoves it, still vibrating, into one of the cubbies in the nurse's office.

'Hey sweet... baby-heart! Wait that sounds weird let me start again. Hellooo there sweetheart!❤️🥰 just wanted to make sure ❓that you’re still alive! 💘😖 and not ripped apart! 🤞❌ anyway love you please don’t get eaten by a swarm of bears!! 🐻😘'

Ryan had the joy of reading that one over his shoulder in the radio shack, and the groan he emitted was so loud they both ended up having to pitch over each other and duck under the table because it drew Caleb back up onto the roof.

The poor guy keeps peering out between the slats of the radio shack window like a scared meerkat popping up from behind towering rocks, thinking he can see you float past in a mist of lucent white, weaving through the treeline. He keeps pacing back and forth, back and forth sweating buckets because he's so terrified, and so ashamed that he's cowering in here while you may be in danger out there. Even Ryan's awkward offer to let Dylan borrow his earphones for a while: to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest in the corner and just breathe for a minute while Ryan kept watch, was met with an uncharacteristic sharp intake of breath and manic shake of the head.

So when you come bursting through the rickety door: drenched from head to toe in Nick's metallic reeking blood and propping Chris Hackett's shotgun in your arms, neither of the two men know what to do. But when a crash of lightning makes the full moon glowing behind your head shudder, making the pulsating umbra shrouding your head seem all the more monstrous, Dylan suddenly does.

The man starts screaming in a key that only dogs had a chance of hearing.

When he finally realises that it's you and not - you know - the 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry', and he's spent enough time bent over with his hands resting on his knees trying to catch his breath, the nervous butterflies in the pit of his stomach suddenly turn into somersaults. You came back for him. You came to save him. You care for him that much: love him that much, that you were willing to risk your own life just to try and save his.

Even though he's known you since you were seven years old: even though the two of you had met all those years ago during your first week at this very same camp, catching each other's eyes and waving as he bundled up to Chris' office with a brand new tape player he had restored in his arms, and you helped one of the younger girls pull her luggage out from the back of her parent's van, the true extent of how much he could fucking love someone hits him like air freshener to the face.

Even though the two of you used to sneak out of your bunks and meet up at midnight in the Shady Glade, bumping down beside each other on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you. 

Even though his heart had flipped over there and then: greedily gorging and festering in his chest, even though he had spent years stifling the feeling until he learnt that he was lucky enough to have it returned, it still shocked him to realise you didn't see him as a waste of space. As a spent joke.

And then his hand gets bit, and everything changes. It must have looked at least a little bit funny when it happened, considering there was not a chance in hell you were about to let any mystical creature drag off your poor boyfriend. As soon as Dylan got swung up to the roof: screaming and begging for you and Ryan to get him down, you jumped onto the desk and latched yourself on Dylan's back like koala bear. Your legs are quick to wrap around his waist until your heels kick up onto the slats, your arms wrapping around his waist until you manage to reach past and grab onto thick handfuls of warm... oozing fur.

With a swift punch to the snout, the two of you fall unceremoniously to the floor in a resounding crash. You managed to cover most of Dylan's moans during your fall by cradling him into your stomach, taking most of the brunt of the force. The poor guy for a moment just curls up on top of you in a state of wide-eyed shock, the side of his cheek heavy as he smooshed it against the side of your jaw. It's almost domestic: almost sweet, as he tugs his legs up between your knees and hides his eyes by turning his head into the curve of your neck. It's the same manner in which he wakes up every morning, hiding himself by nestling himself into you every time the sunrise comes falling through the dusty cracks of the Quarry's alpine blinds and makes him jolt awake.

This time, though. This time is far worse. Because then he starts laughing: a hoarse, shaking, unnerving noise that seems to seep through your throat and make you choke on your tongue. You do your best to grab onto his biceps as he starts shaking, his hands beginning to ball into your shirt as the reality of what's just happened to him settles in.

This man has seen enough horror movies in his life. If he's going to die, he wants to do it lying here in your arms.

Before he knew what was happening, he's being lifted up into your arms bridle style and rushed out towards the pool house. The whole way there, despite the agonising pain he's in, he keeps pressing his lips into your collar bone and giggling like a school boy caught head over heels by his crush. Even when your hands finally slip off from underneath his knees and you gently perch him on the edge of a sink, he's still cradling the side of his head on his neck and looking down at you as if you hung every star in that unbridled sky. It doesn't matter if you're trying to use a cloth to clear some of the blood from underneath his eyebags, or using some bandage Abi found in one of the pool lockers, this man is too busy trying to spend every second he has left as him enraptured by you. That means you have to work with him biting his bottom lip and smiling wonkily as he dodges the cloth and instead grabs onto your fingers, pulling them to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles one by one languidly. He looks so soft - so goddamn soft as he nudges his cheek against your intertwined hands, letting them rest against the side of his face.

He gets really fidgety, and it's then that you suddenly understand he's asking for a reassurance kiss: for the knowledge that you're not going to leave him. He’ll never say it outright, because deep down he’s too embarrassed and touch starved to admit it, but you can always tell. He has so many give away signs: he starts looking down at the floor, taps his feet against the tiles and fidgets his hips back against the porcelain, plays with his fingers by threading them through each other until you lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, and then he just beams with pure, unbridled happiness.

'You're so beautiful, you know that?' Even with the tendrils beginning to twist up his forearm, even half delirious with the stress of what had been happening that night, even thinking he's about to die he's still thinking of you. Worried about you. Desperate for you to know, that it's always been you. That it's all you.

'Dylan... I love you too, but if you keep putting yourself in danger to save everyone else I'm going to kick you into Lake Septimus ass first, okay?'

'Look, I've never met the guy, and although I'm sure he's lovely you're the only person I want to fall ass first onto', he replies, trying his best to hide how his eyes were starting to burn: how his eyes were beginning to crinkle with the effort of stopping his face contorting in pain by cupping your cheeks with his large palms and pressing a lingering, needy kiss against the side of your mouth.

'Ew. Gross, guys.' You turn your head to raise an amused eyebrow at Kaitlyn, but she only shakes her head and turns her attention back to the knitting gash on Nick's leg.

He seems to spend half of the time hiding behind your back! Like, you can just feel the slight tremble as his slender fingers touch your shoulder, and then the growing shadow against the lodge chimney as he jolts behind you. He's trying his best, bless his heart, even though the way he tucks the jut of his chin into your shoulder blade and grabs onto your biceps restricts you from shooting off Caleb when he comes clambering up the stairs towards the two of you.

But also even though he knows you're super bad ass he is 100% ready to launch himself, full-body starfish jump, in harm's way at the first sign of danger. Such as when Emma comes jumping out of the minivan, and Dylan straight away launches you away from him and nearly bearhugs her to the stony ground. Thankfully, you manage to tear off a branch from one of the encircling pine trees and strike the werewolf off Dylan; a near home run hit had her scrambling off into the woodland again as fast as her four legs could carry her. For a moment, your boyfriend just lounges against the dirt, shaky breath only interrupted by the sound of his wincing as he begins to flick pebbles off the deep scratches lining his elbow. Then, before you can even blink, he comes scrambling on his hands and knees towards you like a prowling predator, before melting into you. His arms are quick to lock behind your hamstrings; Dylan doesn't even bother to get up off his knees, he just shoves his head into your bellybutton and refuses to move until he can feel your fingers card through his scalp.

'Oh my god!', he finally starts, once you begin to unlatch his rusted fingers from around his legs by pulling at them one by one. 'I can't believe you never told me!'

'Told you what?'

'That you're secretly the sports coach! I knew Jacob was too much of a butthead - I just knew he was too busy playing hookup to look after the kids. That's the real tea from this summer.'

For real though - it doesn't matter where you are: turn around and Dylan's on your heels like your own personal walking, talking, screeching shadow. You have a bet with Kaitlin on whether he's managed to build a teleporting machine during his free time in the radio shack, because you could be down scouting the kitchen and he could be up looking at the weird family pictures in the lodge's attic, but at the first sound of any kind of howl he's there. You barely have time to duck down behind the counter before your boyfriend has made you jump out of your skin; he's standing right by the freezer (how tf did he manage to get all the way there without you hearing him??), completely out of breath and holding a cast iron skillet in his hands like a baseball bat.

'What?', he shrugs down at you with a tired smirk, putting his free hand on his hip and wiggling them a little. 'My mom always told me that it's better to be prepared than to catch anything unexpected. And I'm not letting you get bit too.'

'I'm... not quite sure that's what she meant. But thanks, sweetie.'

The nickname has his face burning a deep-set roseate for the next thirty minutes.

And then the two of you meet Laura, and this man's world just turns upside down. You turn down her offer to join her in trying to find Chris Hackett and end all of this for good, but from where Dylan was sitting on the bench next to the rattling window, he missed out on your reasoning why. He missed out on how you'd admitted that your sole focus: your one care now was to make sure that Dylan was safe. That you cared about him more than anything, and Mr. H could go to hell as far as you're concerned. You had to make sure Dylan survived the night.

Dylan's eyebrows crumpled when you came, cross armed, to unsteadily take a seat next to him again. He was too nervous to ask what the two of you had agreed, so he just fiddled with his thumbs and let the idea that he was holding you back darken his thoughts.

That he was a hinderance. That he was an annoyance.

He doesn't know what else to do, so as the two of you head out to the Hackett scrapyard in search of a new rotor arm, he takes up every silent moment by cracking wise. It starts to worry you - the way he can barely touch you. How he holds his hands in near claws against the meat of his biceps: how he barely lets his leg brush against yours before he jolts away again as if electrified. He even seems anxious when you reach out and grip onto his hand, his hold limp and loose as he lets it sway uneasily in the growing gap between your bodies.

He's just so afraid that if he lets go now, you'll be letting go of him forever. So he doesn't want to hold on at all. He feels it will be easier this way: kinder to you, to feel as if he's just drifting off with the breeze, a fond memory of long summers spent at some strange, long forgotten Quarry.

But you know him far too well not to register the full-blown panic behind his eyes as he dares to take a glance over at you. So please, shove this guy up against the nearest trunk of a tree, hold him up by shoving your knee in-between the seams of his thighs, and kiss him silly until all he can do is saunter off with a dopey smile and a brain so far up in the clouds all he can do is laugh rather than string together a sentence!!!

Literally I feel like this would heal him. Give this poor bby the love he's so desperately craving.

Straight up hefting him over your shoulder and carrying him away from Caleb in the scrapyard. The confused look on Kaitlyn's face as her head slowly turns to follow the set of you sprinting past with a screaming Dylan folded over your back like a snapped ruler is mfcking hilarious I'm not going to lie.

You refuse to leave him in the crane. Not even when he's gouging into the balls of your shoulders, crying and yelling and begging you to leave. To run. To get the hell away from him while you still can. Between his tormented yelps, you do your best to grab onto his face despite how forcefully his body's contorting. Despite how his fingernails are starting to cut into your skin and send blood blooming out in wispy tendrils across your shirt. You just place your thumbs up against the darkness obscuring the sides of his eyes and try to keep Dylan looking at you. To try and make him understand, to try and make sure the last thing he saw before he turned was you not leaving him. Not Ever.

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [25]

chapter twenty-five, act three: so far (it's alright)

masterlist

March 3rd 2015

“No, no, no, no. No.”

Tommie groans rolling her eyes a she yawns loudly, “Rod-”

“No, please don’t lecture me right now, just- just let me rant.”

She doesn’t argue, just falls back onto the cushions behind her as he turns to Adam, “I need more… more emotion.”

“More emotion?” Adam asks, rubbing his hand from how long he’s been holding his guitar. This is the eighth time in the last three hours (yes, he has been sitting in the booth for three hours with no break) that Matty has interrupted his guitar solo in their new song they’re recording.

Adam runs his tongue across his teeth, “I have some emotion for you, Matty-”

“If you say anger-”

“It’s anger, that’s the emotion I have right now.”

Matty sighs, hands clasped in front of him, lips pursed as they rest on top of his fingertips like some sort of painter studying their muse.

His hair is tied up and his glasses are on his face, “Okay, yes, channel the anger, it’s a song about the patriarchy-”

“Pretty sure it's a song about your narcissism.” Tommie pipes up from the floor and he kicks at her foot as he passes, slapping an asleep George on the shoulder causing him to jump awake.

Tommie rolls over, head propped up on her hand to look over at Ross who's lounging on the only settee in their little makeshift studio in London.

“You relaxed over there?”

He grins, “Very, might just have a nap.”

“Yeah, have one for me.” She groans getting up and grabbing the guitar from Adam to take his place, “What if I do the solo?”

Everyone looks at her slowly and she shrugs, “What?”

“You never want to do solos.”

“I believe you said, ‘why would I solo when I don’t feel yolo?’.”

“That’s such nonsense, why would I say that?”

She did say it. Yesterday. After Adam begged her to do it since Matty had already been on his arse about it.

Matty sighs, pushing his glasses up on his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine, whatever, I don't care, just someone do it.”

She shoos him out of the studio and puts the headphones on, they push her hair up awkwardly and when she catches sight of her reflection in the window she pats down the little Elvis styled quiff. She listens to the drum beat they’ve been working on the past week through the headphones, her head bobbing along to the beat.

Her fingers make quick work, instead of playing what Adam had been doing she lets her mind wander, moving with the beat of the drum line instead of the bass where she thinks is maybe what Adam was struggling with.

Matty swings open the door running over to her, she barely has time to put the guitar down before they’re on the floor and he's peppering kisses all over her cheeks and forehead, “You are my favourite person in the studio right now. That’s exactly what I imagined.”

She pushes him off of her and lifts herself up, smiling at Adam who mimes, ‘thank you’ through the glass.

She checks her phone for the time, 3:33 am, sighing as she stretches until her back pops, Ross distantly yelling his annoyance at her habit, “Call it a night?”

“No, wait, we have to finish-”

“Matty,” She says, turning to him and taking his hands in her own, “Everyones exhausted, it’s only been three days and we’ve almost finished the first song on the list, we’re on track, we’re not going to fall behind. And if we don’t all have a good night's sleep, in an actual bed, then we’re not gonna go much further than that.”

He sighs, head falling to rest on her shoulder as she moves her hands up and down his arms, tracing over his tattoos, “Yeah?”

His voice is muffled into her top as he repeats the word back to her.

“You tired?” She asks softly.

“No-” His word is broken off by a yawn and he brings a hand up to cover his mouth as he watches the rest of the guys start packing up.

“Come on, I’ll drive us back.”

“I’m okay.”

“If you fall asleep at the wheel and we die, I’ll kill you.”

She snatches the keys from his hand, collecting only her phone and jacket, leaving her bag here for tomorrow as she collects the boys one by one.

She drops Adam off at his place, promising to pick him up later than scheduled so he can have a nice lie in, then she drops Ross off at the end of their street before parking in the car park.

She’s staying with George and Matty for the next couple weeks as they record, it saves for the journey up and down, and she's hoping they’ll finish earlier than planned so she can go home to her own place.

When she gets in, George goes straight to his room, placing a kiss on her head and thanking her for driving before disappearing.

Matty comes up behind her as she's kicking her shoes off to wrap his arms around her and lazily lean himself on her. She pushes him off for long enough to line her shoes up with the skirting boards that are lining their flat walls. As soon as she’s standing upright again, socked feet on the cold floor, Matty’s arms are around her again.

“Go to bed.”

“Okay,” He whispers quietly, letting her go to walk to this room, “Do you-”

“Bed.”

He nods and closes his door making sure not to close it completely like George had as she lies out on their settee.

It probably takes her five minutes after her head hits the pillow to fall asleep, she’s not sure how long it is when her name is whispered and she’s shaken awake from her dreamless slumber.

It's still dark, and she feels groggy. That's how she knows she hasn’t been there long.

“Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“Watch a film with me?”

“It’s like four in the morning.”

He shrugs, “It’s four thirty.”

“Go back to bed.”

“I can’t sleep.” He whispers, then when she looks up to see him, where he’s sat on the coffee table watching her, she sees the desperation in his eyes, “Please?”

He picks at the skin on his hand and when her eyes drift down to it he notices, pulling the sleeves of his crew neck over his hands to stop himself.

She nods and goes to pull herself up but he shakes his head, “Don’t, don’t get up, it’s okay. I’m sorry, shouldn’t have woken you up-”

He stands and she reaches for his hand, turning onto her side she pats the cushion and he sits there beside her. Her stomach is pressed into his side and she lifts one leg to slide under him.

“It’s fine. What movie?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know.”

She’s still holding his hand, thumb rubbing back and forth over the back of it. She looks up at him, his long curly hair falling over and covering his eyes.

“Okay, you pick one and I’ll-”

“Stay right here, it’s okay, you don't have to move.”

He moves to get the remote, putting the volume right down as George is sometimes a light sleeper.

Then he slides down to sit on the floor but she tugs at his collar, “Come up here.”

“I won’t fit.”

“You will, come on.” She pushes herself back into the cushions and he awkwardly lies in front of her. She wraps her arms around him pulling him back into her chest, her legs fitting in between his.

Button perks up from the armchair she’s been sleeping on and jumps up with them, curling herself up behind their slightly bent knees.

Matty lifts the remote, looking through the channels until he settles on some old American war movie on the history channel.

Tommie yawns, forehead resting against his neck as she plays with his long hair.

“Any reason you can’t-” She breaks herself off with another yawn, “Can’t sleep?”

He shrugs a little, his hands falling to where hers are on his stomach, “I don’t know. My head is going too fast.”

She unlaces one hand from his to lift it up to his forehead, rubbing slow circles into his skin until his eyes are fluttering shut.

“I feel like,” He shrugs a little, trying to find the right words, “Like we’re running out of time. Metaphorically, I mean we’ve completed three songs already last year, this new ones almost done, we have plenty of time. But I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“People. What they’ll think when this new one comes out, I mean they reacted-mostly- good to the first one. What if they’re disappointed. You know, what if their expectations are so high-”

“Are you happy with what we’ve done so far?”

So far they've completed UGH!, Paris, The Sound and are half way through Love Me. A few others songs are written, he also has some he won’t let any of them see yet.

“Very, it’s all gre-”

“So am I. And Ross, George, Adam, we all are. That's all that matters.”

He sighs before awkwardly twirling so they’re face to face, his nose brushes her, and when she yawns, bowing her head a little, his lips brush against her forehead, “Do you have any fears?” He asks, “About the album?”

She gives a playful scoff and nods, “Of course I do. I’m a right Anxious Annie, you know that.”

He lifts his hand, slowly tracing his fingers up her arm until they reach her face leaving goosebumps and a warm trail behind. Then he moves just his pinky finger across her cheek bone, dragging along until he pulls the stray strands of hair behind her ear.

She’s silent, holding her breath as her eyes stay on him, only him, and he whispers, “Show me yours, I'll show you mine.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

March 29th 2015

“Thanks for doing this.” Tommie says as they collect their luggage from the carousel.

Matty lifts his head in acknowledgement, “Yeah, I wanted to record out here anyway.”

She nods, “Still, thank you. It means a lot.”

“Tommie!”

She turns, smiling as they see Caleb through the crowd waiting for her. Matty watches the smile brighten just a little and he takes her suitcase nodding for her to go ahead.

She walks over to Caleb, letting his arms swallowing her into a hug as he sways them back and forth, “We finished it,” He tells her, “The EP, which means that for the next, however long , that you’re here, you and I-”

“Caleb, I’m here for work too, not just pleasure.”

“But, I’m done now, we can spend a little more time together.” He sighs taking her hands, “I know things between us have been… rough lately, but-”

“I know, and I’m happy for you guys, can’t wait to hear it, but I have recording to do too. We have to go straight there right now, you can come if you want.”

He steps back, “Uh,” He glances up at the rest of the band as they approach, eyes meeting Matty’s who's staring right at him, “I’m good, got plans with the guys, see you for dinner tonight?”

She nods, leaning up on her tiptoes, instead of letting her meet his lips he turns his head so she kisses his cheek.

She purses her lips, trying not to allow her annoyance to show and clears her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I get it, we’re in the same industry, remember. I understand.”

“Same industry, different levels.” Matty says as he walks on ahead, sunglasses on ready when he sees the distant flashes outside of the airport.

Tommie pauses for a few seconds as Adam comes up beside her, “Let him go out and distract them, we’ll sneak on past quickly then.”

She nods watching Matty lift his hand to wave at the fans and paparazzi waiting, she goes to turn and grip Caleb’s hand but sees he's walked ahead already, slipping out unnoticed with no attention on him.

She groans and turns to Adam who holds his hand out for her to take, Ross pulls her hood up and covers her face making her giggle as he tightens the strings. “See?”

“No.”

“Exactly,” He grins, “You can’t see them, they can’t see you. Logic.”

George shakes his head, sliding his glasses on, “That is awful logic.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Tommie winces as the door is a little too loud as she closes it, she glances around the dark apartment, her backpack still on her shoulders and aeroplane clothes still being worn.

She yawns, checking the time on her phone, 5:32.

She drops her bag by the table and creeps towards Caleb’s bedroom, only he’s not there, the bed is empty, it’s been made and his bag and phone aren’t in their usual spots.

She blinks, trying to get rid of the jet lag she still feels from their long flight, never mind the added fourteen hours in the studio.

Taking her phone out she sends him a text.

To: Caleb

Where are you? X

Delivered 5:36

She sighs and looks around his room, it’s plain. White walls, three photo frames, one for each of his family members on the wall, a little wardrobe and a bed with a total of two pillows.

A noise in the kitchen startles her and she gets up quickly to go out into the kitchen.

She creeps out quietly, peeking through the little window, suddenly a head pops up and she jumps with a frightened gasp.

“Jesus!”

“Nope, just me.” James grins.

She holds a hand over her heart and shakes her head, “Scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, OJ?”

“No thanks.”

She leans through the opening to look at him, “Uh, where’s Caleb?”

“Oh, he tried calling you, did you get his message?”

She shakes her head slowly, “Friend of ours from back home, well, his childhood best friend is out here visiting, so he’s gone to see them, said something about staying at their hotel with them.”

She nods with a sigh and purses her lips heading for her bag, “You can just stay here, sleep in his room.”

“Gonna go back to the studio, left early anyway.”

James nods, “See you later then.”

“Ta-ra.”

“Who’s Tara?”

She sighs, closing the door behind her and getting her phone out. The line rings three times before he picks up.

“Can you come pick me up? Please.”

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?”

“Caleb’s place, he’s not here.”

“On my way.”

She smiles to herself as she heads downstairs, “Thanks, Matt.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[the-hinky-panda]

The Medic Series: Part II

Title: The Medic Series

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Johnny Coco Cruz x OFC (Morgan "Stitches" Fox)

Summary: Morgan Fox is a nurse who is looking for a fresh start. She leaves La Jolla the night before her wedding for a fresh start in Santo Padre.

Author's Note: This series takes place in the same universe as @bullet-prooflove's Community Series.

“Oh damn.” Nan pulls her purse strap over her arm. “Looks like one for you..” 

Morgan looks up from where she was organizing cotton balls and tongue depressors for the next day. She had been at the clinic for a week now and already Nan has started to thaw towards her. A couple days ago, eight people walked through the door needing stitches and since Morgan was the new hire, she got all of them. Nan had made a comment before leaving that evening that the work had been neat and efficient so that was what she was going to call her: Stitches. 

A man with a motorcycle kutte opens the door for a scared teenage girl with facial abrasions, a black eye, laceration by her hairline, and she’s holding her arm. They both have the same large, round eyes and the same shade of earth brown. He looks nervously between Morgan and Nan. 

“You guys still open?” 

Nan looks at Morgan. “Are we, Stitches?” 

She nods at the trio in front of her. “Of course. I’ll clean up when we’re done, Nan.” 

Nan gives her nod and heads out, flipping the sign to “closed” before shutting the door and locking it behind her. 

“Alright,” Morgan starts towards the hallway that leads back to the exam rooms. “Just follow me and we’ll get you checked out.” 

“Look, uh,” the man pulls out his wallet and starts to pull out all his cash. “We don’t have no insurance, and-” 

“That’s okay,” Morgan interrupts. “It’s after hours and our billing department has already gone home.” She winks at him to make sure he understands her implication. He apparently does and puts his wallet away reluctantly. She continues her trek to the first exam room and turns the lights back on, motioning for the girl to sit on the table. “What’s your name?” 

“Letty.” 

“Letty, I’m Morgan. Nice to meet you.” Morgan starts pulling out bandages, butterfly stitches, and antiseptic wipes. “And who’s your friend?” 

A small smile quirks up on the corner of her mouth. “That’s my dad, Coco.” 

“Dad?” Morgan looks over her shoulder at where he’s standing in the doorway of the exam room. “When did you have her, when you were twelve?” 

“Oh, gross.” 

Morgan chuckles and pulls on her gloves. “Sorry. So, tell me what happened. This looks like a nasty gash on your head.” 

Letty’s eyes land on Coco with more caution than makes Morgan comfortable. Whatever the answer is, it’s not going to be a good one. Coco pulls out a pack of cigarettes. 

“If I want a smoke…” 

“You can go out the back of the building,” Morgan tells him. “There’s a small trash can by the door, use that to prop the door open or else you’ll get locked out.” 

He nods. “‘K.” He motions to Letty. “You tell her everything. Don’t lie to nurses.” 

Morgan waits until she hears the door creak open and the familiar metallic clang of the trash can taking the placeholder spot. “I have to agree with your dad. It’s never a good idea to lie to nurses.” 

“So saying I walked into a door isn’t gonna cut it?” 

Morgan assesses the cut that runs along Letty’s hairline. “I’m going to say someone bounced your head off a porcelain sink…twice.” 

“Damn. You are good.” 

“So if it wasn’t your dad, who was it? Boyfriend?” 

Letty scoffs. “No. It was a John. I think that’s what you would call him. My grandmother sold me to him so is it a John if it’s long term?” 

Thankfully years of hearing stories similar to this allows Morgan to easily school her features but the twist of disgust still turns her stomach. “It’s wrong no matter what we call him. Have you filed any reports with the police?” 

Letty shakes her head. “My dad’s in an MC. If anyone will handle it, they will. Unless you have to file a report?” 

“I’m new in town. If a MC handles the issue, I’m not about to get in the way of it. As long as it gets handled and you get the hell out of there.” 

Letty regards you thoughtful and then gives a resolute nod. “You’re not too bad.” 

Morgan starts to say that Letty isn’t too bad herself when a blinding pain erupts along the side of her head. Her knees hit the floor and she sees stars, bright spots blocking out her surroundings, a loud ringing in her ears. She hears Letty curse before a loud crash follows. She’s able to blink away the spots and sees a man, medium height and barrel-chested, trying to grab Letty by the arms. The young girl is putting up quite the fight, kicking, spitting, and scratching like a cornered cat. 

This must be the John. 

Morgan carries a gun with her but knows it’s illegal since Santo Padre is in a different county than La Jolla and she hasn’t had a chance to transfer her permit over to Imperial County. If she even manages to get to her purse to get the gun, it’ll raise a lot of questions. So she goes with plan B: while Letty is fighting with the man, Morgan crawls over to a specific drawer and unlocks it, pulling out a bottle with a liquid sedative. She grabs a syringe, fills it, and immediately swings her arm to jam the needle into the man’s thigh, pushing the plunger down at the same time. 

He screams and lets go of Letty. “The fuck did you do?!” 

Letty has managed to pick up the stainless steel tray the stitching materials were laid out on and brings it down on top of his head. Then she brings it down again. And again. His leg gives out and he slumps to the floor, blood running down the side of his face. Letty draws the tray back again, eyes wild, but Morgan stops her from bringing it down again.

“Hey, I can explain an unconscious man but not a dead one,” Morgan tells her calmly. “Come on, let’s lock him in here and call the police.” 

Her eyes go even wider at the mention of police. “But-” 

Morgan tugs her away from the barely conscious man and slams the door shut behind them. “As far as the police need to know, he broke in to rob us and we took him out. That’s it.” 

Morgan goes into another exam room and grabs a plastic chair, shoving it under the doorknob to ensure the man stays there until the police arrive. Releasing a deep breath, she looks over Letty and sees a couple scratches and abrasions from the recent encounter but nothing serious. She reaches up and touches the side of her own head where he blindsided her and her fingers come back bloodied. 

“Come on,” Morgan turns the lights on in another exam room. “I can finish your stitches in-” 

“How did he get in?” 

Morgan freezes. She didn’t even think about that. Nan locked the front door when she left and Morgan would have heard him breaking the glass to get into the clinic. That only leaves the back door that was propped open. Of course. 

“Fuck,” Letty starts for the back door. “Coco!” 

“Wait, wait,” Morgan reaches out to stop her from leaving. “I’m sure he’s fine.” 

Letty pulls loose from her grip. “No, you don’t understand. He wouldn’t let the fucker past him! He was out there fucking protecting us!” 

Morgan wipes the blood that’s running down the side of her face now and retrieves her gun just in case there’s something else waiting for them outside. She also vows to never let anyone in again past closing time. 

[nompunhere]

weird vore idea: A experienced prey helping a newbie prey, maybe there laying in the maw of a pred and extend a hand to the newbie and bring them in and comfort them when there being gulped down and in the belly themselves

[Ask originally sent on March 30]

There was no reason for me to say that, other than to maybe assure you guys that I still have all those asks I keep saying I'll get around to. ANYWAY. I suddenly thought up a full scenario for this, so I guess now's as good a time as any to write it. (Also happy late birthday, coincidentally started this like an hour before you sent in that latest ask earlier this week)

Why do these recent ones keep getting sO LONNNGGGG- ahem. Warnings for uh, anxiety? fear of digestion for like two seconds, and somewhat more elaborate descriptions of the nomming process than usual I guess.

---------------------------------------

I feel rather exposed, just standing on a table like this, but at least I'm not alone. Er, alone with the giant, I mean. Not that I don't trust your friend, it's just..

However you managed to convince me that this would be a good idea, I'll never understand. I know it's safe, at least. I've seen you go in on plenty of occasions, and you always come right back out, whole and happy, a few hours later. But I don't know them like you do.

Welp, I guess this is my chance to.

They lean forward over the table, propping themself on crossed arms and giving you an easy grin. You beam up at them, meanwhile all I can manage is a small, shaky smile as my eyes are drawn all-too-quickly to their glistening teeth. I close my eyes and take a breath to steady myself.

When I open them again, it's to see that you've already stepped forward, hopping right onto their offered hand with no hesitation to speak of. You quickly get situated and wave me over. I fidget, glancing around for a few moments. The giant is giving me a look they probably think is reassuring, but the playful edge to it keeps me wary. I sigh and walk forth to sit next to you before I can change my mind.

I tense as we’re lifted from the tabletop. You simply lean back, enjoying the air rushing past your face. It’s only a moment before you notice my fear, however, and your hand pressed firmly over mine helps ground me, driving away the stray thoughts of what might happen if your friend were to fumble.

As we reach the top of our ascent, you eagerly turn to your predator, scooting closer to their mouth. I simply watch, shuddering as their breath washes over us. This is fine. It’ll be fine. You wouldn’t be so excited for this if it wasn’t fine. I continue trying to convince myself of this while blankly watching the giant open their maw, giving you enough room to crawl in like it’s the most natural  thing in the world.

For a moment, you disappear into the shadows of that humid cavern. You’re quick to turn around and poke your head back out, asking if I want to go down with you or if we should go one at a time. I look at your larger friend. They shrug. Up to me, then. I suppose if we went separately, I would just be letting myself get swallowed by someone I don’t know all that well without you being there to provide the immediate positive feedback that is your own excitement. Anyway.

You reach out, offering a hand and tilting your head in question. I take one more deep breath--probably the last breath of fresh air I’ll have for the next few hours--and give the firmest nod I can before taking your arm, grabbing just below the elbow for stability while you do the same to me.

You draw yourself further back into the giant’s maw, inadvertently tugging me in after you. I stumble closer, my free hand landing on their tongue to catch myself. Eugh, damp. And- moving. I don’t know what I expected.

You can only get so far in before you run into the back of their throat. At this point, you’ve only gotten me about halfway in. For as big as this mouth seems, it really isn’t all that spacious. Not enough room for the both of us at once, at least. You take in our predicament for a few seconds, then call out for your friend to make the first swallow. Wait, no, not yet, shi-

I allow myself to be pulled the rest of the way into the maw as it closes behind me, not resisting so as not to put too much pressure on your arm. I loosen my death grip on you a little, now that I think of it. Hearing your slight huff of relief just in front of me, I look up. It may be quite dim in here, but I can just make out your eyes, squinted in a smile that actually manages to be reassuring, this time.

Now that I'm paying attention, it strikes me just how still everything is. Your torso is caught in the tight hold of our predator's throat, yet you breathe easily, if a little shallower than normal. At the same time, I'm impressed at the giant's level of control. Honestly, how can they even breathe like this, with such a- a blockage where you are?

You quietly ask if I'm ready. I pause, then give a small nod. With a nod back, you call for your friend to gulp us the rest of the way down. Instinct has me gasp in a breath to hold for the trip, but this is immediately rendered moot when the force of the swallow knocks the air from my chest.

The world narrows to a thin, pulsing tunnel, dragging me down, and down, and down. I focus on drawing in tiny breaths, getting as much oxygen as I can in the enclosed space. I feel you squeeze my arm a few times. I squeeze back once before making myself go lax. The rest of the journey goes a bit more easily after that.

I can tell when we reach the bottom of the esophagus by the way our arms bend as your descent slows before mine, bringing us a bit closer. You chuckle as you pass through into the space below. I can almost feel the low vibrations of it against my face from our proximity, past the pounding of your friend's massive heart.

The laughter is quickly interrupted by a yelp from both sides when you fall into that next chamber. A jolt of pain bursts through my shoulder as your weight pulls our connection taut. You surely experience the same thing. We let go of each other at the same time, relieving the weight and dulling the pain to a low throb.

As I'm squeezed into the stomach after you, I shake out my arm and blink my eyes open to look down. Not much to see, really. If I squint, I can detect a bit of movement down at the bottom--probably you making yourself comfortable. All thoughts clear from my mind as I fall to join you down there.

I land face-first in the dense fluids below with a barely a splash. Quickly, I push myself upright and start coughing. I come back to myself to find you beside me, slowly running a hand up and down my back in a soothing motion. I sit back with a huff and a whispered thanks, catching my breath and taking in my surroundings.

Dark, obviously. Slimy. Whole buncha noise coming from all directions. Very, very warm. Humid. Squishy. Squelchy.

The walls undulate around us, pressing into us and soaking my form with the goop that exists on every surface. I shudder. This is- this... I don't like this, it- it's weird. It's all too much, why did I agree to this? Oh gods, what if they lied about it being safe? What if you were just being used as bait to eventually lure me in here so they could get two snacks for the price of one?! Or what if they w-were just wrong, and you have some sort of acid resistance that I don’t, or- Or what if they forget we’re in here and-!

This line of thought is suddenly yanked away as I am yanked into a tight hug, pressed firmly against your side. You press your face into the top of my head, murmuring a soft ‘Hey,’ over and over. I don’t notice my shaking until it’s stilled, nor the tears streaking down my already-wet face until you brush them away.

Right, right. This is- it’s fine, right? You always seem happier after these... sessions. You assure me that we’re okay, that we aren’t going to be hurt. You point out that if we were, it’d sting by now, and I’m not in any pain, am I? No tingling or anything?

And no, I admit, I’m not. Just the shoulder. You smile and start giving the shoulder in question a little massage. I sink further into your side, staring blankly into the dark.

We’re safe here, you reiterate. Nothing to hurt us. The walls are churning because they always do, the liquids in here now are harmless, and your friend cares far too much about you to ever hurt either of us.

You call out to the giant to confirm. I flinch as their voice reverberates around us, to which you give me a light squeeze. They acknowledge us with a short greeting, the front wall of the space pressing in as they presumably pat their stomach, and then they ask if we’re alright.

You respond that we are, just that I’m a little worried, is all. I look up at you as you speak, while you continue rubbing my shoulder. You ask if it’s dangerous in here, just to be certain.

They stutter, blurting out no, before briefly admitting that it could be, in theory, but even as I tense back up, they continue to assure us that no, they’d never hurt us, they could never bring themself to do that, not if they can help it.

I sigh and bury my face in your shoulder. (You hiss, briefly. I apologize and lessen the pressure, remembering our matching sore spot.) Returning your full attention to me, you make sure I know that I can leave, if I want, at any time. The point of this is to have a good experience, and if I’m not comfortable here-

I, uh. You wait patiently for me to continue as I fidget. I don’t want to ruin your- your time here. I can deal, I’ll get over it-

No, you gently admonish, telling me that I don’t need to do that, not for your sake, not for the predator’s sake. For this, I should be prioritizing my own comfort over anyone else’s. You two won’t be hurt if I leave; you just want me to be happy. To feel secure.

You mean so well, you truly do. It’s easy to see that much, at least. It’s good to know that there’s an escape from this. An out for me to take whenever I need. But still, I can’t help but feel bad about taking it, after all we went through to get me here in the first place. I want to.. I want to give this a chance, and I say as much.

You consider this for a moment, then give me another little hug, accepting my choice. With you here, I think I can take a little more. Besides, maybe it isn’t so bad in here, once you get used to it.

****************************************

I swear, I come up with a scenario and the words between each “plot” point start going on for way too long. At least it’s ~ c o n t e n t ~

And maybe I’ve figured out how to balance my fluff and angst to sprinkle some of both into each post instead of just dumping in all of one or the other. I mean, whatever works.

Not much else to say, but thanks for reading!

—————

DNI NSFW blogs, blogs that post exclusively hard and/or fatal vore, weight gain blogs, mpreg blogs, proshippers, TERFs, ace exclusionists, etc.

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

heyyyyy! if you're still doing the dragon asks game, can I request fire and poison? 👉👈 thank youuuu ❤

Thanks! :D

Fire: share a snippet with some dialogue you’d like to show off. Here's an excerpt from Houses Full of Deceit:

With heavy sarcasm he asked, "What do I owe this pleasure to? Have you been hired to kill me or have you come to turn yourself in?"

Colman laughed. Just once, and with an odd rattle in his chest. "Neither. You'll never believe this but I've come to you for help."

"Really." Yo-han leant against the door-frame. "What sort of help? Did someone hire you to murder their enemy and now won't pay?"

"Not quite. Have you heard of the Hastings murders?"

"Not a word," Yo-han said. Now he regretted not buying international newspapers regularly.

Colman looked up at the ceiling. He didn't sit up, or prop himself up on his elbows, or move any part of his body except his head. "Horrible business. Husband, wife and three children all dead. Shot in the head. And guess who's got the blame?"

Yo-han frowned. "You didn't kill them?"

Colman gave him a downright offended look. "Have I ever killed children?"

To be honest Yo-han had no idea. He'd never been able to work out how many murders Colman had actually committed. Luckily Colman didn't wait for an answer.

"I was in Italy when the Hastings — Hastingses? — were murdered in London. First I heard of it was when I was recognised at the Italian customs. Had to run for my life. Got hold of a paper and discovered the whole thing's been pinned on me. My picture's in every paper in England and most of the ones in Europe too. So I decided to leave Europe. Got as far as Siam by pretending to be a missionary, then I met an attaché of the American embassy in a bar. He'd just been reassigned to Japan. So I got him drunk, stole his tickets, and got on the ship under his name. When we stopped at Seoul I went for a walk around the harbour and never came back. Then I wormed my way into the British embassy, found your address — you'd be amazed what people will say when they think you're Lord So-and-So — and came here."

"You seem to have had a very exciting time," Yo-han observed dryly. "And when did you get injured?"

Colman's casual façade cracked. As he looked at Yo-han, weeks of exhaustion and fear showed on his face. "How did you know?"

"You haven't moved once since I arrived. Either you're unbelievably lazy, or you're trying not to aggravate an injury."

Colman moved his left arm away from his side. "Remember when I said I ran for my life? I meant it. In Bangkok I was recognised again. That was why I resorted to something as stupid as identity theft. The guy went at me with a garden fork, believe it or not. It's shallow but hurts like hell."

Poison: share a snippet that’s all about relationships (good or bad). Here's an excerpt from Silver Glass:

This is not how David wanted to bring Alec into his bedroom. Alec is still shaking. He collapses onto the settee and stares into the fire. David pours him a glass of water and sits beside him. He wraps his arms around Alec's waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

"You'll have to marry her," he says. Alec makes a noise like a wounded animal. "Listen to me. She can destroy us both. You'll have to marry her, collect evidence against her — do you think she'll be faithful? — and divorce her the first chance you get. Ruin her reputation so well that no one will believe anything she says against you."

Alec cranes his neck to look at him. "But David…" He closes his eyes and visibly steels himself to continue. "No church will marry us, no law recognise us, but in my heart I'm married to you. I can't stand in front of God and man and swear to take that woman for better or worse, forsaking all other. It would be a monstrous lie."

David kisses him. He tries to pour all his unhappiness, all his rage at the situation, all his love for Alec into the kiss. Alec responds in kind.

When they break the kiss David presses his forehead against Alec's. Alec wraps his arms around David and pulls him closer. They watch the fire together.

"I couldn't continue this relationship with you," Alec says sadly. David knows him, knows his efforts to reconcile his sexuality with his religion, and was expecting this. "I'd be legally married to her, so I would be breaking a commandment."

"Aren't we already breaking commandments?" David asks. He doesn't want to be a married man's secret lover, but when the marriage is a sham built on blackmail it can hardly be considered binding.

Alec smiles ruefully. "Not one of the ten commandments, unless you count this as covetousness. I can list every reference condemning us, but only adultery is forbidden in the ten commandments."

They fall silent for a while. Alec has stopped shaking. David can guess what's going through his head, and knows his decision before he declares it.

"In the morning I'll tell her I agree to marry her," Alec says, and he says it as if he's reading his own death warrant.

David tightens his grip on him. The morning. It's afternoon and morning is getting rapidly closer. He calculates how long it will be before their absence is commented on. Not long enough. Especially if they miss dinner. But after dinner…

To hell with restraint. He can sneak out of Alec's room and back to his own before the servants start their rounds.

"You know, we haven't had our wedding night yet," he says.

Adding Deceit's and Glass's taglists: @lightgriffinsect​, @oh-no-another-idea​, @kittensartswriting, @writingpotato07, @sarahlizziewrites, @acertainmoshke, @author-a-holmes, @sam-glade (Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

[sweeterthanthis]

Tell me this isn't daddy watching you flirt with someone who isn't him 😏

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x 18+F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings:  SMUT, fingering, teasing, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity, stepdad trope/daddy kink, talk of cockwarming, dubcon if you squint but not really. 18+

All my works are 18+. If you click the read more tab, you are agreeing that you are 18 or over, have read the warnings and take responsibility for your own media consumption. I do not consent to having my work translated or posted anywhere else.

Bucky always arrives a little early to pick you up on a Friday afternoon. He likes to watch you interact with your friends, likes to observe you and watch your face light up when you spot him from across the parking lot.

He parks up, dark shades covering his curious eyes as he spies you walking around the corner of the building. His cock stirs in his trousers at the sight of your bare legs, watches you struggle with your overnight bag as you try to sling it over your shoulder.

He's about to exit the car - fingers lingering on the door handle - when he tightens his fist, the sight of you throwing doe eyed looks at the guy running toward you making him huff in annoyance.

Bucky watches, envious and unjustly enraged, as the guy holds his hand out - his fingernails biting into the palm of his hand as he watches you slip your cellphone into the little punk's grasp.

Bucky knows he's a hypocrite, but he doesn't care. As far as he's concerned, you belong to him. Your body, your mind - and dare he think it, your heart. He twists the car key in the mechanism, the engine rumbling to life loudly and your head instantly snapping up to find the source of the noise.

He watches as you snatch your phone out of your companion's hands, smirking at your attempts to make the encounter look as innocent as possible. He can't help but let out a chuckle when you pick up your pace; jogging across the parking lot, the hem of your skirt riding up with each bounce of your feet against the concrete.

Bucky grips the steering wheel tightly as you pull open the passenger side door, throwing your bag in the back seat and slipping into the plush, leather seat beside him.

He says nothing as he pulls out of the parking lot, a part of him revelling in your blatant discomfort. You already know he saw you, and you already know what kind of conclusions he's drawn from it. It doesn't matter what you say to try and convince him otherwise.

"Good week, princess?" He asks, taking a left turn and pulling up to a red light - shuffling in his seat to look over at you. "You got somethin' to tell me? Gonna start dating two guys now? I already felt sorry for Parker, but this guy, too?"

"No," you mutter, anger bubbling in your veins as you inwardly curse his vile hypocrisy, "but even if I did, you're one to talk." You had moments like this. Moments when you just can't bring yourself to sit pretty and apologise for the very thing he's doing so shamelessly.

"Careful," he warns, pulling away as the light turns green, accelerating harshly while you blow out a breath to continue.

"You gonna fuck her tonight?" You spit, kicking off your shoes and stretching your legs out in front of you, feet propped up on the dash purely because you know how much it pisses him off. "Are you? You gonna make me listen to it like I have to every fucking weekend?"

Bucky says nothing. He knows you're right. Knows he has absolutely zero standing to tell you what to do or who to date. That doesn't matter when his mind is screaming violence and his heart is hammering in his chest. He inhales a deep breath through his nose to try and steady himself, but you continue to poke at him.

"You're an asshole, you know that? I fucking hate you," you seethe, folding your arms across your chest and keeping your gaze fixed on the windscreen. "You come into my life, marry my Mom even though it's fucking obvious that you don't love her. If you loved her, you wouldn't be screwing her daughter every chance you get. You don't control me, you don't get to tell me how to behave."

You pretend not to panic when he pulls into a quiet side street, his demeanour calm and calculating as he shuts off the engine and puts the car in park.

Bucky looks to you, wrapping an arm around the passenger headrest and leaning in close enough that his warm breath fans your already burning cheek. "Someone's feelin' brave today, hmm?"

"I'm sick of being treated like a fucking whore," you tell him, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth before it has the chance to quiver and give you away. "I'm tired of being stuck in this shitty situation, tired of only getting the fucking scraps, and exhausted at having to watch you fake it with her."

"Who says I'm faking it?" He asks, his tone laced with that trademark arrogance that made you fall so hard in the first place. He regrets it as soon as it falls from his lips, but he can't let you know that. Has to keep up this ridiculous facade that you're just a hole for him to fuck when he needs a pretty young thing to entertain him. "Green's not a good look on you, princess. Oughta try being a little more grateful, coming all the way out here to pick you up. Could just leave you to take the bus."

"You only come out here to get your dick wet. Don't try to pretend that you're doing anyone a favour but yourself."

You're furious. You hate the way you let your emotions get the better of you, how you allow your jealousy to rip you apart inside, how you lack the strength to resist him and break off your affair. It's never going to end how you want it to.

"You think I have to drive all the way out here to get my dick wet?" He taunts you, his palm grazing the top of your bare thigh, snaking up below the hem of your skirt as you try to pull it down and cover yourself. "I don't even have to drive five minutes out of our fuckin' street to get some pussy if I want it."

His hand reaches further, fist nudging your thighs apart just enough for him to cup your cunt in the palm of his hand and squeeze it just a little, “could fuck any one’a those desperate, suburban housewives if I wanted. That why you get so jealous, princess? Thinkin’ I’m gonna get bored of this hot, little cunt and move onto the next one?” 

His words make your gut ache, because you know he’s right. You’re terrified that one day he’ll wake up and find a new toy to play with. You hate yourself for grinding yourself down against his hand, hate the slick that squelches against it as you seek that delicious friction you’ve been craving all week. 

“Please,” you whimper, reaching to grip his thick thigh, trying to steady yourself as you tremble beneath his touch. 

“S’that what’s got you so worked up? You just need to get fucked? Need daddy’s cock to make it better?” He coos, keeping up the charade that he could give two fucks about your feelings. Bucky can’t let you know that he could never get bored - will never find a sweeter pussy than yours. “C’mon, princess. Cat got your tongue now?” 

“Daddy, please,” you whisper, batting your lashes at him and doing your very best to entice him into giving you what you want. He smirks, tapping your cunt with his fingers and pulling them out from between your thighs. Your lips part as you start to speak, but his glistening digits slip between them before you get the chance to finish the first syllable. 

“You think I’m gonna give you what you want after that fuckin’ performance back there. Not to mention that mouth,” he tuts, shoving his fingers further down your throat and pulling a gagging sound from your mouth. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna suck those fingers clean, and then you’re gonna keep daddy’s cock warm with that mouth. All the way home.” 

“Mmmph,” you mumble, but with a mouth full of his fingers you can’t get a word out. He pulls them free of your mouth, leaning in to capture your lips in a heated kiss that sets your skin on fire. 

You’ll never get sick of those lips. The way he kisses you, so soft and so passionate. His kisses were the only clue you needed. The only reassurance you ever had to cling on to that you meant more to him than he cared to admit. 

His tongue slips between your lips, dancing with yours as you cling to the collar of his jacket - arching your body into his as his leans over the centre console, kissing you with fervor and desire. 

He pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. “You’re gonna keep it warm for me,” he rasps, “because I missed it alright? I missed that mouth. I missed those pretty tits, missed that little pussy.” 

You think he’s going to tell you that he missed you. It’s right there on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t, of course. But the intensity of his stare dizzies you slightly, knocking you off kilter completely when he brushes his thumb against your jawline. 

“Gonna wrap those soft lips around my dick and remind me how fuckin’ good it feels,” he purrs, nuzzling his nose against the soft spot behind your ear, “and then later, when it’s all quiet, m’gonna remind you why you belong to me.” 

A/N: I no longer have a tag list, but if you want to keep up to date with what I post follow my sideblog, @sweetersficlibrary, and turn on alerts to be notified whenever I post something new 💕

[moemoemammon]

Ok. I need to get this idea out to someone. Solomon and mc are messing with potions for class and he accidentally gives mc a “youth” potion that makes you look younger. It turns mc into like a 4 year old for like a couple of days. What do you think would be the demon brothers (any) reaction to babysitting their master? What would they do? Idk i think it would be a little funny.

You’ve Gotta Be KIDding me, MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

He'll be exchanging words with that sorcerer bastard later. You can bet on that.

Lucifer doesn't take kindly to the idea of MC having run ins with magic in general, but at least this seems to be on the tamer side of the magical spectrum. And he had to admit, it's sort of amusing.

He intentionally watches you try to handle things on your own. Be it reaching for things too high up, stubbornly carrying things too heavy for your tiny arms, or making messes when you try to tidy up, Lucifer waits patiently until you ask for help (or until he can't take it anymore).

Treats you like he always does, despite your size. He doesn't talk to you like a child, or try to force toys and nap times onto you, but may or may not tease you when it's only the two of you. After all, you may look like a child, but that doesn't mean you are one. It's still funny to harass you a little, though.

"As independent as you may be, please refrain from trying to climb up onto the counter. If you need something, ask one of my brothers, or myself. If that isn't obvious enough, perhaps a 'time-out' is in order?"

Mammon

When Mammon recovers from laughing for twenty minutes, (and also making threats on Solomon's life) he then decides to take a billion pictures of you. Now calls you 'munchkin' and variations of it.

And if you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he is now. You're ACTUALLY helpless and vulnerable. I mean, you'd hardly make an appetizer for a random demon! So Mammon's gotta keep an eye on you. Maybe even a toddler leash-

Unintentionally treats you like an actual child. His older brother mode kicks in, and he finds himself taking care of you as naturally as breathing. Mammon? Being responsible?? It's more likely than you think.

He hands you a cup of juice before you can say 'I'm thirsty'. He'll slide over some sliced up fruits before your stomach has a chance to growl. You're tired? No kidding. That's why he's got a blanket and pillow on the sofa for you.

"Where do ya think you're goin', short stack? Nowhere without ME, that's where! I already told ya, if there's somethin' ya need, just tell me!" "Huh? I'm spoilin' ya too much? S-so what if I am?!"

Levi

Solomon came in with a child in tow that looked a hell of a lot like MC, and this man nearly had a heart attack. There's no way... did those two have a secret love child?! Th-that's just-!! Oh, it's only MC.

WAIT A MINUTE...TH-THIS IS....! ISNT THIS JUST LIKE 'DETECTIVE C*NAN'? Uwaaah... Just look at you! You're still just as smart as before, but you've become super small! Talk about the ultimate gap moe!!!

Levi isn't a big fan of the idea of tiny, sticky hands touching his things, so he's glad you've still got your normal brainpower. That being said, he finds himself talking to you normally. Maybe even easier than before!

It kinda throws him off that you guys can't do the things you'd normally do together. Your fingers don't have their usual dexterity so playing games is a challenge, and your attention span is a little shorter so these TSL marathons are killing you. But have no fear, Levi knows a ton of other things you could do together! He won't let something like this spoil his time with his dear Henry!

"If you can't use the controller, let's try something that doesn't need one! I've got a new Ruri Hana VR game with REAL motion and voice tracking! If you say the spells out loud, you'll cast them in game! Ah, and it auto-adjusts to the player's height, so there's nothing to worry about!"

Satan

HES DOING HIS BEST NOT TO LAUGH. SATAN WILL HANDLE THIS WITH POISE AND GRACE, BUT MAN....

Watching you struggle to enter the House of Lamentation in your oversized RAD uniform nearly sent him to the stratosphere. He inhaled tea when you almost tripped over your blazer and had to get a couple of slaps on the back from Asmo.

Does his best to find a cure for your 'little' problem, but the most that can be done is waiting it out. In the meantime, would you like him to read you a story? Large books are probably difficult on your tiny hands.

Constantly catches himself treating you like a tot. He's not trying to, but he can't help himself when he sees your round eyes staring up at him, or when he watches you try to climb up onto an armchair.

"Up we go- There. It must be hard for you, having to climb up into the chairs like that. I've got a stool if you'd like to use it? Though, I don't mind if you sit on my lap, too." "Hm? I'm embarrassing you? I-I didn't realize how overzealous I was being. Ehem...."

Asmo

Oh that Solomon and his silly spells and potions, always making trouble! It's just one of his many charm points! And seeing as there are no permanent consequences from this harmless mishap, Asmo's enjoying it to the fullest.

Can you blame him? You're SOOOO cute~! So tiny and adorable! Why would've know that was possible?? Look this way, MC! He wants to take some pictures of you! Lowkey uses you as a photo op prop

He used to work part time at a daycare, you know? Asmo's great with kids! But that also means he's treating you like one. There's personalized snacks, cute little nicknames, and he's already gone and bought you a week's worth of clothes. Nobody tell him it'll only last a day-

He can be a little annoying with the baby talk and all the little activities he's planned for you, but you can tell he's enjoying himself.

"MC, look~! I've got plenty of ribbons to decorate your hair with! I'll let you choose your favorites, and then we can set out in town!" "Hm? Where are we going? To the playground, silly! You must be dying for a play date after being stuck in this dreary house all day, right?"

Beel

He was kinda teetering between whether or not he should throw Solomon across the yard like a football when he saw him carrying a teeny MC, but all was forgiven when he learned it was an accident.

Has now designated himself the permanent MC carrier. Your feet will never touch the ground so long as you're a child. And it's no problem for the likes of Beel, when you're as light as a feather! That makes him a little more conscious about being careful with you though-

Be it piggybacking or carrying you in his arms, he hasn't released you since he's spotted you. And don't think he's forgotten about feeding you. Beel's also taken your meal prep upon himself. You'll prefer things that've easy to eat, right? Though it kills gum to give you smaller portions than usual.... it feels cruel...

Somewhere between babying you and treating you as usual. He speaks normally to you as he always does, but prioritizes your needs over everything else. He wants to make sure you're well taken care of until this potion wears off.

"You're sure you've had enough to eat? I know I gave you a snack earlier, but... to think you really can't eat as much as before.. I'll talk to Solomon again. It must be torture to have such a tiny stomach, I'll do my best to get you back to normal."

Belphie

There's obvious opportunity here, and Belphegor won't let it go to waste. (No not for murder)

He's getting a kick about your new mini mode. How's the weather down there? Do you need him to pick you up so you can reach the high shelves? Don't worry, he'll get you a sippy cup.

When the teasing has settled down, he pays attention to a more pressing matter: you're now the perfect side for cuddling. You're a living hot water bottle, not too big, not too small, tiny and soft and adorable. Er, he won't mention that last part though.

Anyway, Belphie thinks a little kid like you should go on and take a nap now. It's exhausting having such short legs and wandering around the house all day, right? He gets it. You look tired and he knows the solution.

"Ah, you're just as cozy as I thought you'd be... Though, it feels kind of weird holding you like this. It's like holding a stuffed animal, but you're not nearly as cute." "Pfft, what's that face for? Sorry, sorry, I was only teasing."

[spidey-sophie]

Red Light || Tom Holland Smut

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Stripper!Reader (p.s. If mob!Tom isn’t your thing, you can still read this. It is never explicitly confirmed that he is a mob/criminal. Only implied once/speculated. He can be any kind of millionaire!Tom you want to imagine!)

Summary:  Every night there are a variety of customers. But this night is different. As you’re doing your usual dance routine, you notice the hottest guy you’ve seen in a while, and he is looking back at you, his eyes are burning your skin way more than the blaring stage lights. Who is this man and why do you feel this way? It’s almost like you’re doing this dance for him and his eyes only.

Word count: 12.2k

Warnings: drinking, smoking, smut, soft!dom!tom, guided female masturbation, edging/one little orgasm denial, oral (female + male receiving), fingering, spanking, ring kink (is there even such a thing?), multiple orgasms, squirting, slight choking, mirror sex, exhibitionism, cum play + swallowing. She also sucks on his fingers a lot, but it's me, so is that even a surprise? Explicit smut - minors dni.

Notes: This is the longest and dirtiest fic I ever wrote! After a loooong break it is finally here! I had so much fun writing this story and I hope you will enjoy reading it. I feel like I talked to so many people about this fic and I want to thank everyone for supporting me! First of all, thanks to everyone who liked and reached out to me after I sent that ask to @duskholland. I had no intention of writing it, but after all the feedback, I had to do it! Biggest thank you ever goes to miss impulsive gemini aka @sinisterspidey for editing this and beta reading it! You're a boss, chlo! Another big one goes to my bday girl @worldoftom who helped me with editing and HYPED me up to finally post this. Also, lovely @hypnotized-so-mesmerized and @nowayhomeparker for jumping in with a few ideas. I hope you'll enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, I am vvvv excited to read your comments! 

♡ Ily and happy reading ♡

“Are you nervous?” Your friend and coworker Natalie asks. You’re sitting in front of the large vanity mirror, LED lights showering you with brightness. This is probably your favorite part of the night - putting your makeup on in the right places, transforming into someone else for an evening. But, no matter how much you love doing this, going up on that stage makes your heartbeat rampant. You just smile at her, trying to hide the fact that indeed you are nervous.

“You’re going to be amazing.” She tightens her arms around you, leaving a trace of her glitter on your body. You watch her as she starts removing her wig, humming to the barely audible music from the stage. You’re the newest addition to the current setup, so everyone is being especially nice to you, always asking you if everything’s okay, offering help whenever you need it.

You don’t exactly hate your job.

Sure, it isn’t something that you ever thought you’d do, but here you are, trying to smear the right amount of highlighter over your chest and shoulders. Since backstage was a bit too crowded, you put on your headphones and play the song you’re about to dance to help you relax in the process. After six months, you still get a little nervous before going on that stage. Even though your coworkers often say there’s no reason for it, customers are either too drunk or too thrilled to see you and enjoy your talent. Still, you can’t control your nerves and you need music to stay calm. And sometimes you like to go through the dance routine again before going on stage.

Yes, your dream has always been to be a dancer. You've been showing talent since you were little. Some would say that you first started dancing, and then began walking. However, when you finally started dancing professionally, you never believed that you would do it without clothes. On the pole. In a strip club.

The salary is good. Customers are mostly decent. When, in rare cases, they aren’t, you can always count on the help of the security. You see this job as something temporary, until a better opportunity arises.

The club you work in is extremely popular. The owner made quite a reputation for himself and his club, so people from all parts of London often come to visit the famous “Cherry on Top”. All of the dancers have their own ‘thing’. You’re all shiny, oily, and sexy, and yet every one of you have your own flair. Ruby, who you’re the closest with, is on stage at the moment. She’s best known for her impressive pole skills. You witness her muscular arms holding her entire body on the pole, swinging and swaying. She was the first one who accepted you into the club and offered to give you some tips about pole dancing and flirting with customers.

Once she’s done with her routine, it’s up to you. You watch her collect the money from the floor, thanking the audience and running backstage.

As she passes by you, she whispers, “show them what they came for”, before running off with a wink.

Being the only professionally-trained dancer in the current setup, you made a name for yourself fairly quickly. Everyone already knows that they can expect a great show from you. You don’t only display your body, but also your talent. Or at least that's what you tell yourself. The owner of the club recognized your talent and enthusiasm and made you his main star.

You try to always put on a great show for your audience. Every Thursday night is your night - it’s the night when you do your routine for the first time. And then, you do the same the following Friday and Saturday nights. This time, you picked a rather unconventional outfit for a strip club.

You decide to start dancing wearing a suit. Under your loose-fitted black suit, you’re wearing the tiniest pair of lingerie, with jewels and matching pasties for your breasts. Getting naked in front of an audience was a bit odd at first, but you’re used to it by now. The owner of the club has strict rules and lots of security so you and the girls always feel safe. If someone is causing trouble or tries something that you aren’t comfortable with, all you need to do is to give a quick nod to the security and that guy will be out of the club in the next few seconds.

As you’re finally getting ready to get on the stage, you wink at Tuwaine, the security guy working today. He stands next to the stage, watching carefully over all of the customers, making sure everything is right and stays right throughout the night. You walk slowly up the few stairs until you’re finally on the stage. Just a few seconds ago, Tuwaine set up a chair in the middle of the stage. It’s not unusual for you to use props while dancing, but you’ve been excited for this routine for the entire week. You spot Ruby and Natalie at the bar, giving you thumbs up and cheering for you. They never miss your performances.

The lights are off and once you hear the first beat of the song, you take your place on stage and wait for the lights to come back. You stand in the center of the stage, keeping both hands raised above your head. The chair stands next to you with one of your legs on it, while you stand firmly on the floor with the other.

With the first ray of pink and purple lights you start moving, seductively swaying your hips, but only lightly at first. At the same time, you slowly move your right hand across your left one all the way down to your shoulders. 

As soon as the lights are completely on, your movements become more noticeable, stronger and more precise. You drag your right hand over the entire length of the leg that is on the chair. You finally move and strut provocatively behind the chair and caress the back of it with your hands while checking the crowd.

The first piece of clothing you throw away is your hat and you throw it at a table where several young men are, one of them obviously having a bachelor party. You wink at him and turn back to the center of the podium.

You get out of your suit jacket and since your eyes are now finally used to the bright lights you take a moment to look a bit through the crowd. You’re so used to doing this every week, so that you don’t even miss a beat now while exploring the faces of visitors.

Your dancing consists of lots of seductive movements--grinding on the pole, provocative thrusts with your hips, and lots of you touching your body. You want the audience to imagine their hands instead of your own. You love to be in touch with your body, to use your every little move to your advantage. While other dancers usually pick popular hip hop and trap songs, your taste is a bit different. You prefer dancing to softer, slower, more sensual tunes.

There is something about all that attention that you get when you are on stage--being the only thing that the sea of watching eyes is focusing on. Controlling them with your moves. Listening to gasps, moans, and applauses every time you peel off another layer of your clothes. The thought of being their fantasy, the center of their desire, excites you.

The room’s filled with guys, and sometimes girls, too. Every night there are a variety of customers. Businessmen, tech nerds, college boys, bachelorettes, middle-aged men who bring their sons, middle-aged men who want some fun, older guys, younger guys, politicians, celebrities, but also your neighbors. This night isn’t any different.

You recognize some familiar faces, the usual customers who are there almost every night. You nod to Gary, the nice guy who brings you flowers and offers to walk you home every night after you’re done with work. He never tried anything, and he never even paid for a private booth with you. He only brings you flowers and sometimes cards for your birthday or holidays.

Just as you are about to turn around and sit on the chair, you notice the hottest guy you’ve seen in a while. He’s sitting at the table behind Gary’s, while pink, purple, and blue lights illuminate him. And he’s looking at you. Once your eyes finally lock, he gives you the cutest smile. He’s wearing a black suit with a light blue shirt underneath, slightly unbuttoned to put his perfect chest on display. You quickly turn around, trying to hide the smile that he most certainly caused. It is not unusual for you to find someone cute in the audience, but this guy is truly something else. From the moment you saw him your heart started drumming and it’s no longer in sync with music. It’s beating faster, doing it’s own thing.

You slowly take off the lower part of the suit, and the cheering of the customers becomes so loud that it emphasizes the music. You sit on the chair and turn towards them and smile as soon as you make eye contact with any of the customers. But still, your smile is most sincere when it meets his honey-colored eyes. You can't describe exactly what attracts you to him so much and why you can't look away.

Is it because of his beautiful face, piercing eyes, or lips that are twisted into the most seductive smile? Is it because of the fact that he sits so casually, and again so masculine, strong, dominant? He is not sitting alone, and there are a couple of other young men at the table with him, two of them that look so much like him and another blonde sitting closest to him. But none of them radiate the same energy as him.

You have to remind yourself, again and again, that you have to dedicate your attention to other customers and take your eyes off of him. At that moment, you are only in a white shirt, and as you reveal one of your shoulders, you hear more and more sighs from the audience. The bottom of your shirt flares enough for all of them to see your shiny pink thong. The dance floor is already flooded with money, but they keep throwing you some more.

You slowly unbutton one shirt at a time and once again look at the mystery hot guy. As you do this, your hips move to the beat of the music and the speed at which you unbutton follows the rhythm. He can't take his eyes off you, as his eyes follow your hands like a magnet. And that's why you decide to tease him. You slowly move your hands from the already unbuttoned shirt and run them along the inside of your thighs. Spreading your legs apart and running your hands painfully slowly over your heat you can see him licking his lips, eyes glued on you. It’s almost like his eyes are burning your skin way more than the blaring stage lights. 

You play with the hem of your underwear, teasing the audience, but more so teasing him. He now has a fist in front of his mouth, squeezing it tight, so tight his knuckles are turning white. As much as this teasing is fun, it is that part of the song when you go up on the pole. You get off of the chair and finally take off your shirt.

As you throw away your shirt, you stand next to the pole taking your position and get ready to hop on it. The men howl at the sight of you clasping both of your legs around the pole and grinding upwards using the strength in your upper arms. Once you get high enough, you unclasp your legs from the pole and start slowly swinging back down, holding yourself with both of your hands. 

Quickly, you hook your right leg over the pole and hold it tight with your thigh muscle, releasing both of your hands from the pole, and using all of your strength to keep yourself on the pole with just your leg muscles. It took you some time to master the art of pole dancing. You still considered yourself a beginner, but it was fun. It brought more tips.

And now, it’s time for the big move--you’re supposed to turn upside down, hook your right arm over the pole and do a split. It’s a move you kept practicing with Ruby for the past few weeks and now you finally decide to try it. Turning upside down is easy; the harder part is doing a split from this position. In that moment your eyes wander to the mystery cutie and his eyes haven’t left your body, not even for a second. As your legs start spreading apart, his head is slowly moving forward, he’s totally lost in you, watching you in awe with his mouth slightly open.

Almost perfectly synchronized with your legs, his body leans forward. When you finally do the whole split, you notice an almost proud smile on his face. Who is this man and why do you feel this way? It’s almost like you’re doing this dance only for him and his eyes only.

When you're done with the pole portion of your routine, you slide down, grinding your ass on it. You smirk at all the bills the customers keep throwing at you. You lean your back against a cold, metal pole and start grinding your ass up and down. Almost everyone in the club is cheering for you, but he’s the only one you care about, the only one you’re looking at. 

And you’re also the center of his attention. The boys around him are talking but he’s not leaving you out of his sight. He brings one of his hands to his shirt, unbuttoning it a bit more and you notice the rings he has on his fingers. You run your hands up and down your body, while grinding, imagining your hands were his and the pole behind you was his lap.

Your song is almost over, so now it's time for the grand finale. You get up from kneeling next to the pole and strut your way a bit closer to the group of excited men in the front row. You turn around, bend over a bit, and slowly run your hands over your butt cheeks. You move your hands over your hips, waist, all the way to your shoulders. With an innocent expression you turn your head around to face them as you tug your bra strap. And with a faux surprised look on your face you do the same thing with the other strap.

Everyone in the room is howling now, and you finally unclasp your bra and throw it away in the crowd. You can’t help but smile at their reaction. No matter how many nights you do this, that feeling never goes away.

You turn around to face them now, and the first person you look for is the mystery guy. His eyes are now glued to your exposed breasts, only covered by two glitter pasties. He looks up to you and genuinely smiles, with an open mouth, his tongue slightly peeking from the edge of his lips. And then he does the hottest thing you’ve seen in a while--subtly, he tilts his head a bit, and burns through you with his eyes. The right corner of his mouth twitches and moves upwards, forming a devilish smirk. He nods at you, so fast and subtle that if you blinked you would’ve missed it.

You slowly get lower until you are on all fours, face down, ass up, twerking to the sound of beat. You smile to the guys around you, but you can’t help but feel a bit sad because you can no longer see the one you care about the most. Since the song will be over in a couple of seconds, you do another split, this time on the floor, close to your audience. You pick some money from the floor and throw it all over your head.

Slowly, the lights go off and you wait for the stage lights to completely shut down on you and rush backstage, trying not to drop any tips that you collected while dancing. You try to take one last look at the mystery hot guy, but the people around you are standing up, chatting, moving around, or dancing. The little wave of sadness rushes over you and you feel a slight embarrassment in hoping that he’d be waiting for you, cheering for you, or something else.

♡♡♡

After your performance, you quickly change into something more decent and hurry to get out to the bar for a few drinks. Or, to be completely honest, look for the curly haired guy. It’s not like you plan to do anything with him, you just want to look at him a bit more, admire his pretty face and his smile.

Unfortunately, you can’t find him. Your eyes travel from one part of the room to the other, but he is nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey, superstar!” You can hear Ruby waving at you and inviting you to join her and Natalie at the bar.

“That was so hot! I got turned on, can’t even imagine how these wankers were feeling,” you hear Natalie from behind and, judging by the way she is hanging around your neck, she’s a bit tipsy.

“Thanks, turning you on was my main intention.” You and Ruby smile at her and order your drink while listening to Natalie gushing about Tuwaine, speaking about how sexy and beautiful he is. She always does this, speaking more to herself, every night after she gets a bit drunk. They have some sort of friends with-benefits, complicated relationship, and you know way too many details about it --way more than you want.

You just roll your eyes at Natalie giving him heart eyes and whisper to Ruby, “Uhm, did you, by any case, notice a ver…”

“OMG, here he comes, I can’t talk to that arsehole right now!” Natalie practically screams near your ear and leaves the two of you confused. Once Tuwaine approaches you, her behavior suddenly becomes clear.

“What was that?” he asks, “Nevermind, Y/N, someone asked for a private booth with you. You have ten minutes to get ready. Don’t kill the messenger.”

“What? Fuck, I told the boss I want to stop doing that.” You aren’t very fond of private booths. It’s one thing to be on stage, distanced from everyone, enjoying yourself and flirting with them while dancing. You don’t even mind occasionally strolling through the audience and making small talk with the customers. But being face-to-face with a customer always makes you nervous. The rules are strict – no touching, no kissing, and absolutely, in no circumstances, any kind of sex. And you’re thankful for those rules. Every booth even has a camera installed, something else you like.

“Yeah, he knows, but this is a very important client and he asked specifically for you.” You’re left confused and drain your drink before you go get ready.

“Who is that client anyways?” You ask while coughing a bit since the shot you just drank was a bit too strong.

“Someone from the Holland family.”

“From what?” You ask, having no idea who they are talking about.

“Oh my God, THE Hollands?” Ruby almost spills her drink all over her once hears the name.

“Who are the Hollands?” You are still clueless, but from the look on Ruby’s eyes, you’re the only one in the room who doesn’t know who the Hollands are.

“I can’t believe you don’t know who they are; they own, like, all of London. No one knows how they got so rich--probably some illegal stuff involved. Dad and four sons. I had no idea they’re here. Oh my God, please be safe, they might be dangerous.”

“I’m a big girl, Ru, I can take care of myself. But thanks. If anything goes wrong, I can count on this guy anytime.” You throw your hand over Tuwaine’s shoulders. You really have a genuine friendship, and whenever it’s his shift, you feel more safe. 

“Yeah, yeah, but you better hurry up.”

“I am, I am, thanks T.” The last thing you want right now is to go and dance for some stranger, and especially not for some fishy millionaire. You’re tired and you want to spend some time with your friends and get a couple of drinks. As you walk backstage to change your clothing, you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed over the fact that just a few minutes ago you were looking for a cute guy who watched you dancing. What were you even thinking could happen? The owner of the club is always very clear - no sleeping with customers, not even after the show. He doesn’t want any allegations or anyone to think that his girls are up for anything other than dancing.

You put a pink wig on your head and pick a baby pink lace thong and a bra with rhinestones on it and rhinestone fringes falling from the bra cups all the way down to your thighs. You add a little lacy garter on your right thigh, and opt for a pair of five inch heels. After one last look in the mirror, you finally feel pleased with the way you look, and start walking towards the area with the private booths. Just as the name `private` says, the area is separate from the rest of the club. The club has six private booths, and almost all of them are always occupied. You nod to the security guy waiting in the hall, and get inside the booth where you’re supposed to be for the next fifteen minutes.

Every booth looks the same--round room with mirrors instead of walls, bordered with leather red furniture. A mini round white dance floor with a pole is located in the middle of the room, and it’s surrounded by the red couch. The lights are dimmed, and red, black and white colors dominate the room.

At first, you can’t see the face of the guy sitting in the center of the room. You can only trace the silhouette of his spread legs. The first thing you notice is his hands, holding the glass of whiskey. There are rings on his fingers and you’re sure you’ve seen them already. Once you’re close enough and you can clearly see his face, you recognize him right away. It takes you a lot to hide your smile, but you probably didn’t do a good job hiding since the first words he tells you are.

“Were you expecting someone else?” His voice sounds even hotter than you could ever imagine, mixed with soft R&B music that is pulsating lightly in the background.

“No one other than you, baby boy.” This is a line you used a lot before, but for the first time in a while you’re actually thinking it. He chuckles at your remark, still wearing that cocky smirk on his face.

You can’t believe that you’re face to face with him now. And that you’re about to dance for his eyes only. You get up on the dance floor and now you’re standing above him. Just looking down at him turns you on so much. You start swaying your hips to the beat, not breaking eye contact with him. He brings his cigar next to his mouth and your eyes are following his every move. The way his jawline tenses while he inhales the smoke drives you crazy.

“How long have you been working here?” he asks, smoke coming out of his mouth and his voice sounding a bit raspier thanks to it.

“Six months.” Usually, you don’t answer personal questions, but there's something about him that makes you open up to him. It’s not just his looks. It’s the way he is sitting, looking, and talking to you. It makes you a bit nervous, vulnerable, but also excited.

“I used to come here more often, can’t believe I never saw you before.” 

“Well, you’re seeing a lot of me now,” you wink and turn around. He can now watch your barely covered ass, but you can still see his face on the mirrors around you. And his eyes follow your every move like he’s hypnotized.

“What are the rules now? I haven’t been here in a while.” 

“No touching, no kissing, no fucking. Just watching.” You say, as you slowly sway around the pole. 

“You can undress, right?” He asks, his eyes lingering on you.

“Yes. Do you want me to?” You grab one of your bra straps, and pray he’ll say yes.

“Not yet. Can I ask you something while you dance?” 

“Yes.” 

“Will you be honest?” You start moving up and down the pole, now facing him and your back pressed to the pole.

“Anything for you, baby boy,” you wink at him and try to seem as calm and collected as possible. Everything inside you is burning now, palms sweating and legs shaking. You still cannot believe you’re one-on-one with the most beautiful guy you ever saw. And by the glint behind his honey eyes, he is just as infatuated with you. You can feel yourself getting turned on from dancing and from him.

He sits comfortably on the huge bed. His legs are spread, and between them his hand holds a glass of whiskey. You watch the way he brings it up to his mouth, the way his lips spread and the peek of his light pink, wet tongue. You can't help but imagine how much better his tongue would feel on your ass, instead of this cold metal. 

“What’s your name?” he finally asks, once he gulps one big sip of whiskey, not even a little twitch in his eyes after swallowing the bitter beverage.

“Oh straight for the hard questions. My name is Destiny,” you smile and he smiles back. It catches you a little bit off guard how much his face softens once he smiles.

“Okay, let’s try this again. Hi, my name is Tom, what’s your name?”

“Hi Tom, my name is Cherry,” you get on all of your fours now, crawling towards him. You stop once you get to the edge of the dance floor, waiting for his next move. Tom lifts up from his seat and leans closer to you, now only inches apart from your face. All of your senses immediately focus on his perfume. He smells sharp, warm and sexy, like vanilla mixed with cigarettes. Not breaking eye contact with you, he reaches for his back pocket, takes a bill and rolls it. 

“How about now?” he asks and brings the rolled bill next to your face. Since you’re still on your fours, the only way you can get your tip is if you take it with your mouth. Slowly, you open your mouth and take the bill from his hands. While you do that, you gaze into his eyes and notice the way they get darker, more lustful as you remove the money from his fingers with your teeth.

In a split second it almost seems like he starts leaning forward, like he wants to kiss you, but you quickly hop on your knees and stand up. 

“Harmony,” you say as you pull the bill out of your mouth and hook it under the thong, “or Doll, or Spice, or…”

“Fine, fine, I get it.” He says, now sitting back like he used to. “I’m sorry if I crossed any lines, I just can’t wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve never seen you before.” 

“Thank you, Tom. This might be your lucky night.” You try to tease him, but you’re still thinking about how sweet he seemed as he apologised. For a supposed extremely wealthy criminal millionaire, he is way too kind. And that turns you on even more.

You wrap your hands around the pole and start swinging, performing your usual routine. And for a few minutes he just sits there and watches you. For the entire time you’ve been in the booth with him, he always had his full attention on you. Tom watches your every curve, every move, every gesture. You reach to remove your bra, and with a slight nod, he gives you the approval to do so.

Once again you’re naked in front of him, his eyes leave yours and your nipples become the center of their attention. They’re so hard for him that it almost hurts. He can now clearly see how turned on he’s got you, and a smirk lingers on his face.

You tease him a bit more and run your hands over your breasts, fingers gently caressing your nipples and slightly pinching them. Tom shakes his head and whispers something to himself. The music is a bit too loud for you to decipher; the only word you can hear is “fuck”. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what you want him to do to you right now. He takes one big smoke of his cigar and runs his long fingers over his thighs, silver and gold rings shining under the low lights. The pants he wears are so tight that you can see the way every muscle on his leg flexes to the rhythm of your dancing.

Your hands travel down to your thigh and just as you grab the garter, you hear him say, “Leave that on.” And you do as he tells you.

“Do you like working here?” he asks and now you sit on the edge of the dancefloor. You spread your legs a bit, just to tease him. You’re still positioned slightly higher than him, so that his face is now on the same level as your core.

“Yes. Do you like doing whatever you do?” You decide to play his game. No matter how much your friends warned you about him, somehow you feel safe enough to ask him that.

“Actually, no. My turn now, have you ever desired a customer?” 

“Yes.” And you spread your legs a bit wider as you tell him that.

“Am I one of those customers?” Tom is once again too close to you, looking up at you with a devilish smile.

“You really want to know that?”

“I’m dying to know that,” and the smirk is now gone, he is playfully smiling at you, lighting the entire room as he does that.

“And why would you like to know that, huh? Does the thought of me getting wetter and wetter and touching myself while thinking about you turn you on?” 

“What if I tell you that it does?” He leans so close to you, you can almost feel his breath on your inner thighs. 

“In that case, my answer is maybe, but maybe not.” You enjoy playing this game with him way too much. And you are fully aware how dangerous everything is, but you just can’t stop flirting with him. The thought of him being turned on by you, the way he moves his hands over his legs, adjusting his shirt, the way his chain moves up and down as he is breathing, everything exhilarates you. You never behave like this with other customers. There was something about Tom, some magnetic force that keeps pulling you to him, from the moment you first saw him.

You can’t decide if it is his smile, his hands, his chest or the way his fingers kept holding and playing with the cigar, drawing all of your attention to them. Or maybe it’s about his innocent eyes and the fact that they are so contrary to his wicked smirk and sinful words coming out of those pretty pink lips.

You are in trouble, you can tell right away, but you love it.

“Can you do one thing for me?” he asks, finally breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Of course.”

“Can you do one of those splits like you did on the stage?” He asks so innocently, yet so demanding. 

“Yes,” you say and you spread your legs wide, sitting on the edge of the improvised dance floor waiting for his next move. He takes one big gulp of his whiskey, a little drop coming down on his chin and dripping on his bare chest. He doesn’t even bother to wipe it off, just licks the excess from his lips with his wide, pink, skilled tongue. You can't stop looking at that wet spot on his chest, traveling down to the unbuttoned area of his chest. At one point you even feel a bit jealous of that drop, since it can explore his body the way you never could.

“Show me.” Tom doesn’t have to tell you what he wants to see. It feels like you can read his body language perfectly. You do what you’re told. You grab your panties and pull them slightly to the side, exposing yourself completely in front of him. It’s surprising, even to you how wet you actually are. This never happens to you, so you can’t help but smile to yourself. As you move your panties to the side, you lightly brush your clit with your fingertips and your legs twitch. You let out a soft moan but quickly manage to keep your cool.

You are dying for him to touch you, to do anything to you, but you know damn well it’sagainst the rules. You can’t even bring him home after work, because that can put a bad reputation on the club and the last thing you want right now is to lose your job.

“You have no idea how much I want to taste you.” he mutters. The thought of him tasting you brings shivers to your spine.

“Unfortunately, if you do that I might call security.”

“And what if you don’t?” Tom answers almost mechanically, not even fully listening to you, his eyes completely lost in your pulsating cunt.

“See this little red dot on the ceiling,” you say and finally pull your panties back in their place, covering yourself. He looks up, “That’s a camera over there. So if you lay even one finger on me, the security will come bursting in here.”

“I think that is the last thing we both want, right pretty girl?” 

“So you better behave yourself, Mr. Holland.” Tom raises his eyebrow the moment he hears his last name coming out of your lips. In that moment you realize that he never actually told you his full name. You felt your heart drumming a little bit faster in your chest. You’re wondering if you crossed any lines with your last sentence. 

“Don’t you think that it’s quite unfair how you know my full name and yet I know nothing about you?” He teases, while adjusting and rolling up his sleeves a little bit. You feel an instant wave of relief mixed with joy. 

“I can’t give you my name, but I can give you a lap dance instead.” You offer, daring him with your eyes to say yes.

“Only if you want to,” and you do. You can’t even begin to explain how much you want to grind on him, feel him under you, tease him, play with him and drive him crazy. You don’t tell him anything, you just stand up and start walking towards him.

You turn around and steadily start winding your hips and getting lower, until you can feel his thighs on your heat. The only thing you’re wearing right now is a tiny pink thong, which is more than revealing. He can see everything and you decide to use that in your advantage. 

You keep switching your moves, swaying to the rhythm, leaning forward so that he could see your entire behind. Fortunately for you the room has mirrored walls so you can see his face for the entire time, even now, when you’re not facing him. He is leaning back on the bed, his eyes completely lost in your body, observing your every move. Whenever you lean forward and reveal more of your ass, you feel his thigh twitch and flex under you. And oh, does that feel good. You’re trying really hard to grind on his thigh and to do that subtly. You’re desperately trying to get some friction, some release and motion.

It’s undeniable that you’re turned on right now. You don’t even care that he can obviously tell that as well, since you can feel the wet traces you’re leaving on his thigh. The music is quietly murmuring through the speakers as you move your body perfectly in sync with the beat. Suddenly you feel something cold, a strange, sharp object running up and down your spine. At first you think it must be your nerves, but once you feel it again, you turn around to face him.

“You know I said no touching?” 

“I am not touching you, gorgeous,” Tom says and he brings his hands forward, right above your thighs. He brings the back of his hands so close to both of your thighs but his skin is not touching yours. There isn’t any skin to skin contact, the only thing touching you are his large rings. And he runs his hands like that all over your inner thighs, the cold metal making your skin melt. You feel goosebumps as you watch his hands in awe. His fingers are long, bony with a few tiny veins popping on them. As he moves you manage to notice his bruised knuckles and those make his hands looking even more captivating.

“Are those for me?” He asks and you twitch a little, you didn’t expect him to talk, you got so lost in your thoughts about his fingers on you. Inside of you.

“Sorry, what?” You ask and finally turn your whole body, straddling him completely with just a few inches between your faces.

“The wet traces you left all over my thighs? Are those for me?” 

“Yes,” you say as you watch a proud grim appearing on his face. It is too late to pull back now, even though you have no idea what he’ll do next.

He keeps his hands next to his body but you can see the way his biceps is tensing through his thin shirt. He wants to touch you just as much as you want him to do so. 

“Also, about that question you have been dying to know the answer…” you say and notice the way he furrows his eyebrows while waiting for what you have to say next, “the answer is yes.”

His eyes are now completely lost on your lips. He swipes his tongue over his pink, chapped lips and leans in. Instinctively you lean forward as well. You feel his nose brushing over yours and you close your eyes, completely forgetting where you are and that you are in a club and that he is just a customer. You pull back a little once you’re aware of that and hear him whisper on your lips. “Wait here one second for me, okay?”

You nod and stand up so that he can move. He furiously storms out of the booth, not even turning back, and you have a sinking feeling in your stomach. Did you do something wrong? Nervously waiting for him or for anyone to come back, you start walking from one corner of the room to the other. 

After what feels like forever, you grab your bra and start to untangle the little jewels and beads. Maybe you’re a fool for trusting him and revealing way too much, but you decide to get dressed and look for him. Just as you finally untangle the last bead, you can hear someone walking inside the booth.

“Hey, I was just about to…” and you can’t even finish your sentence, as he interrupts you with his lips. Crashing them into yours, finally. 

You never experienced a first kiss like this. He isn’t going slow or taking his time. He presses his lips hard on yours, not wasting any second now. Almost instantly he flicks his tongue over your lips and you part them, letting him in. The moment his tongue touches yours you can taste the alcohol mixed with mint. His tongue feels soft and warm as it eagerly glides over yours.

You’re so focused on his tongue and his lips that you haven’t even noticed that his hands are now all over your exposed back. His hands are cold, almost as cold as those rings felt on your skin. It’s such a sharp contrast between his warm tongue and his cold hands. As they trail down to your ass and squeeze it lightly you moan into his mouth. It’s almost like the sound of that moan was your call back to sanity and you pull away from him immediately.

“We can’t, I might lose my job, the owner will be so mad at me,” you blurt this all out while trying to catch your breath.

“I’m sure he won’t mind.” Tom says and you blink at him, still not fully understanding what he’s trying to tell you. You open your mouth, trying to come up with the next question and he gives you the answer before you can even ask him. “You work for me now, I just bought the club.” He doesn’t even flinch when he tells you that. You smile at first, thinking that he must be joking but the more you stare at his dead serious face the more you are convinced that he actually did buy the entire club because of you. Just for you.

“Fuck…” is the only thing you can say before you crash your lips onto his now. You can finally touch him and you do that carefully, dragging your palms over his jawline and delicately placing your fingers onto his soft hair. His hair feels so soft under your touch, almost as soft as his tongue. You still cannot believe that you’re kissing the hot guy who you were eye-fucking with just an hour ago, so you open your eyes just to make sure that this is all real. And it’s almost like he felt what you did, so he opens his eyes, too. You smile at this and break the kiss.

“What?” Tom asks, stealing a little peck while he waits for your answer.

“Nothing,” you smile, running your hands up and down his while he is holding you by your waist.

“You want this, right?”

“Yes,” you put your lips on his and moan into his mouth and bite his bottom lip. As you start kissing him again, your hands travel down to his shirt. Without breaking the kiss your fingers start working quickly to remove his shirt. Once he’s out of his shirt you can see the way his chiseled abs are moving up and down as he is breathing. You trace your finger over his chest all the way down to his abs and he leaves a small moan into your mouth.

As he breaks the kiss, he throws his shirt on the floor and starts sucking on your neck, leaving cold wet traces underneath your ear. He has no problems finding your sweet spot and sucking on it even harder. There will most definitely be a mark, but at this point, you don’t even care.

Your hands move to his zipper, but he stops you. 

“Turn around, take off your panties and bend over while you’re doing it.” He tells you sternly, and you just nod in response.

You turn around and grab the waistband of your panties and start pulling them down slowly, revealing more and more of you. They’re soaked with your wetness, and as cold air hits you down there you start clenching at nothing. You take one look at Tom and throw your panties at him. You want to catch him off guard, but he somehow manages to catch them. He doesn’t even look at them, just quickly puts them in his pocket. 

“I want you to touch yourself, just like you would later while thinking about me.” 

“And what makes you think I’d do that?” You turn around to face him and chuckle.

“I saw the way you were looking at me while you were dancing over there, princess. Also, I have this as proof,” and he points to his pocket, where he put your panties.

You spread your legs and lay on the dance floor. Taking your time, you move one of your hands slowly over your breasts. You try to maintain eye contact with him while running your fingers up and down your stomach. Almost involuntarily you start clenching and you can feel your belly tensing under your fingers. Tom looks so hot, sitting down, taking one more sip of whiskey, shirtless, the only thing he has on his upper body being his silver chain. You were naked in front of him for the majority of this evening and yet he is once again too lost in you. If you thought you had him wrapped around your fingers while you were dancing, you were wrong. Now it almost feels like you’re hypnotizing him with his movements. You can swear he even stopped breathing, waiting for you to finally start touching yourself down there.

You take a lot of time to finally get your fingertips where he wants them. You can’t help but look over at his chest, his glowy skin as you’re running your fingers over your own. Still, you’re not touching yourself, you’re just running fingers over your folds, slightly spreading them so he can have the better view of you entirely. You’re so turned on that even this slight movement gets your fingers moist.

“Rub your perfect clit for me, princess,” he says, now propped up on his elbows, eyes dark and focused.

Slowly, you start rubbing small circles over your swollen bud. From the moment you touch your over sensitive clit you start moaning. There is no way you can stand propped on your elbow now, so you lay back down and break eye contact with him for the first time that night. Yet, now you can focus more on his voice and his silent moans, mixed with your louder ones. 

You don’t want to go too fast, because then all of this will be over too soon. You tease your entrance with your index finger, just a little bit to collect your wetness and spread it over your clit, making your movements even easier. This feels so good and you don’t want to stop. You can’t slow down now, you’re too close to the edge.

“Slower, I don’t want you to cum like this.” You lift your head up to look at him. He is palming his cock through his tight pants, clearly very impatient and yet he decides to tease and torture both of you.

And you run your fingers over your clit gently and slowly. Yes, this feels good but you want his hands instead of yours. Those slim, lean and bony fingers, you want them on you, rubbing and fucking you. 

It is so hard to keep yourself calm and away from cuming. If you open your eyes you’ll see him, shirtless, with the exasperated look on his face and his chest flexing with every small breath he takes. If you close your eyes, you’ll imagine his fingers, those rings and bruised knuckles buried deep inside of you, rubbing you instead of your own.

“Put two fingers inside,” and you do as he tells you. Your fingers go inside with such ease. As you start moving them inside, the sound of wetness echoes the room. Almost instantly, your hips start bulking up, trying to squeeze your fingers even deeper. You’re hitting just the right spot and start shaking, your movements becoming sloppier and faster. 

“Are you close?” he asks.

“Fuck...yes.” You can barely answer, your words mixed with moans.

“Then stop.” It takes you a lot of willpower to stop, now that you’re so close to reaching that high. But you listen to him. You are so sensitive and close to your orgasm that it takes you a few seconds to calm down and stop shaking. Eventually, you get up on your elbows, with your legs still spread and hanging down from the edge of the dance floor.

After what seems like a century, he finally stands up and comes closer to you. Tom is smiling and bringing the glass with what’s left of his whiskey in his hand. You watch his every move and breathe fast, still trying to calm yourself down from that previous edge. He walks towards you and comes near the edge of the dance floor, between your legs.

“Open your mouth,” he asks, now standing above you. You look up at Tom and do what he tells you. You watch him as he brings his glass over your mouth and starts pouring some whiskey down on you. It tastes so bitter and warm since the ice already melted a long time ago. As much as you try to catch the most of the strong beverage with your tongue, a few drops start leaking down your chin all the way to your breasts. You gulp it down, wincing as it burns on your tongue and down your throat. He chuckles at your reaction and slowly pushes you down on your back again. 

Tom puts the glass next to you and starts kissing down your neck until he reaches your niple, covered with whiskey. He sucks on it, licking it clean. It feels so good, the way his warm tongue traces over your nipples. You’re squirming and moaning under his mouth and nothing but a few “oh my gods” and moans escapes your lips. Tom’s skilled fingers are playing with your other nipple while he is still licking your other one, making sure to lick all of the whiskey off of it. 

He takes his time on your nipples. As much as you enjoy him there, you’re burning with desire and want him to help you ease some of the tension that has been building ever since you first laid your eyes on him. Your blood pulsates in every direction, leaving you dizzy, heart beating, breathing heavy and melting under his tongue, teeth and lips on your nipples.

Finally, it feels like Tom decided to end this sweet torture and starts moving lower and lower on you. Without any intention you start buckling your hips when you feel his warm lips glading over your belly. 

“Someone’s impatient,” Tom smiles and lifts his head up. He leaves one peck on your pubic bone and completely ignores that area. That sweet place that is yearning for him so much. Instead of kissing, licking or doing anything to your swollen bud, he moves to your inner thighs. Tom leaves plenty of kisses on them, biting and marking your skin, making you his. He is breathing heavily, but his breathing can’t even match yours. Your fingers are now entangled in his curls, guiding him as he keeps sucking on your thighs. He starts moving lower and lower until your hands can’t no longer reach him.

Once you open your eyes, you prop yourself on your elbows. You watch him leaving open mouth kisses on your inner thighs and once he reaches your lacy garter he puts it between his teeth. Slowly, he begins pulling it all the way down your leg, his hot breath making your skin shiver. 

“Aren’t we supposed to be married first?” you ask him once he has you undressed completely. Tom chuckles and brings himself near to your face.

“Don’t you know that I always try to bend the rules?” you moan into his lips and he kisses you. “But, if a lady insists, I can give you one of this,” he lifts his hand up and puts it between the two of you. “I saw the way you were looking at them, you can have one.”

After giving him an ‘are you sure’ look you decide to take it. And since you’re propped on your elbows, the only way you can take the ring for yourself is if you do it with your mouth. Which is exactly what you do. You open your mouth and put his entire index finger inside while not breaking eye contact with him. You look up at Tom, with the most innocent look you could muster. He is not saying anything to you. The only thing he can do is mouth an inaudible ‘oh’ while shaking his head in disbelief. 

You wrap your lips around the base of his finger tight until you hook the cold metal ring between them. His fingers are so long, they almost make you gag. You close your eyes while you suck on his finger, pulling out the ring, sliding it over each of his knuckles. You can’t help but imagine that instead of his finger you’re sucking something else. Something bigger. You start moaning and sucking a bit harder. With a wet plop you pull the ring out and open your mouth. You put your tongue out, showing your conquest to him.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Tom says while he watches you hold the ring between both rows of your teeth and lift a hand towards your face. You study his ravenous face while you push each of your fingers through the loop, testing them out and looking for the one that perfectly fits

Finally, he kneels until his face is at the same level as your core. You spread your legs a bit more to give him easier access to your warm core. He licks one long strap, from your clit all the way down your entrance. You can feel him smirking once he feels how wet he got you and he hasn’t even touched you down there yet. 

“You taste even better than I imagined,” the vibrations as he talks that close to your clit make you shiver. Tom starts moving his tongue against your clit, flicking it so slowly and lightly, but you are already so worked up, you start jerking your hips almost immediately. He takes his time, licking long straps at first, not putting any pressure on your bud. 

Both of you moan as he starts lapping your clit with his tongue, slowly and steadily. Being too sensitive from the previous edge, you can barely hold yourself up on your elbows. He keeps licking your inner lips and occasionally slipping his tongue inside of you, fucking you with his mouth. He seems to know what he’s doing, teasing you even more like this. As soon as you start buckling your hips up, he moves his tongue from your pulsating clit to your entrance. Your moans keep getting louder every time he comes back and once again focuses on your clit.

“Will you please let me cum?” Your voice trembles with anticipation.

“Since you’re asking that nicely,” Tom smiles and kisses your lower back before going back to your heat. You’re still not used to how much his face softens when he smiles. But it’s the dark spark in his eyes that turns you on and makes your heart race even faster. It feels like he’s unravelling you with his tongue.

He flicks his tongue over your clit a few more times, before beginning to suck on it. As he does that, you roll your eyes and start breathing even harder. And it’s almost like he knows exactly what to do to you and where to pay more attention. He tries to hold you in place with one of his hands, while keeping your legs apart with others. 

You can feel your heat building in the base of your stomach, pulsating. Warmth moves all over your body, coursing through your bloodstream. Tom starts sucking harsher on your clit, pulling it between his lips. His face looks like a wet mess right now, spit and your wetness leaking down on his chin. 

“Please don’t stop doing that,” is the only thing you can say before you start falling apart under his mouth. Your hips ride the way his tongue flicks over your clit. You grab his hair with both of your hands and glide over his wet tongue, stimulating your oversensitive pussy, moaning and heavy breathing. It almost feels like a dream, this intensity of the pleasure that came over your body. Tom has to hold your stomach, just to keep you in place so you won’t ruin not even one second of this ecstasy. 

Tom helps you ride your orgasm to it’s last drop by keeping his strong, muscly tongue in place, letting you control the rhythm and ride it the way it works best for you. Curses and his name are the only things coming out of your mouth as you come down from your high. Finally, his lips leave your sweetest place and he starts kissing your stomach, nipples, all the way up to your neck. Once he reaches your lips he kisses you hard, teasing you and opening them with his tongue. Instead of kissing you back, he pulls away and whispers over your lips.

“Now get on all fours,” and you do as you're told, with your face down and ass up in the air, facing him. Even though you have your back turned on him, you can still see him if you look at any of the mirrors around you. 

 He runs his hands over your butt cheeks and playfully smacks your right cheek.

“Is this okay for you?” you nod.

“Can I go a bit harder?” Tom asks while looking at you through the mirror. You nod once again. “I need your words for this, love.”

“Yes.” And as soon as you say that you feel a slight tingling on your cheek as he has finally smacked you. Not too rough, but hard enough for you to quiver. Unexpectedly, this turns you on a lot more than you ever imagined.

“Should I stop, was this too hard?” he asks, with a genuine worry in his voice, soothing the skin where he slapped you.

“Please don’t,” you moan and feel his hand on your cheek again, slightly harder this time. It tingles, the warmth spreading from your cheek all over your lower back. He soothes your skin one more time with his fingertips. So delicately and gently. And it’s almost like those few slaps heightened your already sensitive skin and you can now feel his every movement. As he caresses your cheeks, his fingers tenderly nudge your wet entrance. 

You expect his next move, already prepared for the burning sensation but you don’t feel his hands on your ass anymore, “You sure about this?”, he asks and you look up at him in the mirror and see Tom holding a condom in his hands.

“Yes,” you moan and in that exact second you can hear him ripping the condom and positioning himself from behind. You instinctively spread your legs for him, waiting for him to enter you. Tom places one of his hands on your waist, digging his fingertips into your skin. He is moving his dick over your folds, getting him nice and wet before sliding it into you. With every little move that he makes you can feel your belly and thighs clenching.

Only a few more strokes after and Tom gently starts stretching you out with his member. It takes a few seconds for you to get used to his girth and with a loud gasp you let him know that he can start moving now. And once he starts moving it feels so good, so exciting and pleasurable. It feels so fulfilling to finally feel him inside. 

Tom takes no time before he is already balls deep inside of you. With every thrust he leaves a deep groan filled with pleasure. One of his hands is still on your hips and you can feel him slightly pushing you upwards, all the way up to his chest, still not pulling out of you. The first thing you feel once your back hits his perfectly toned chest is the way his cold chain is bouncing, caressing and sliding over your warm skin. It is almost embarrassing how turned on you are by him and everything he does. So much that even the way he wears his chain makes you so aroused.

“I want you to watch how beautiful you look while I’m so deep inside of you,” Tom whispers into your ear and as much as you enjoy having your eyes closed, you manage to open them up and see his hand wrapped around your breasts while the other one is trailing down your stomach, his lengthy fingers reaching for your clit.

Thanks to the way the mirrors are hung on every wall in the booth, you can see his movements from every angle. The way every single one of his muscles is flexing, his hips swaying once he is bottoming in and out of you. Once his fingers reach down your pulsating core and starts rubbing the pleasure becomes almost unbearable to you. You reach for his hands to get more stability and start trembling in front of him. The only thing you can see right now is the smug on his face as his merciless fingers and thrusts are making you cum so hard on him. With the loud moan you reach your high and ride it, his fingers finally slowing down but never completely stopping. 

“Fuck, gorgeous, you look like an angel,” Tom says and starts leaving warm and wet kisses on your neck and ear, still holding you tight. After a few long and slow thrusts he picks up his rhythm again, that ruthless and fast rhythm that gets you on the edge of another orgasm in no time. After a few thrusts he starts rubbing your clit once again, pressing that lovely spot of pleasure both from the inside and outside. 

The wave of pleasure comes even faster now, leaving you no time to adjust or open your eyes and focus on him. His hot breath is all over your shoulder and once you hear his voice, moaning into your ear you can’t help but let go, moaning and thrusting towards his arm this time even harder. 

“Tom, please don’t stop,” you moan a desperate cry for more, for another release, another round of pleasure. He picks up his pace and you can feel your legs trembling involuntarily next to his. The familiar surge of another orgasm makes your moans and breathing erratic. Once it finally hits you, you leave a high pitched cry and Tom pushes you down, stopping his movements, just holding you in place.

“Fuck baby, if I start moving now, I’ll cum as well,” he is not thrusting, the only movement you can now feel is his dickf throbbing while still deep inside of you. You open your eyes and look at him in the mirror. Your eyes instantly lock with his. You can see the way he smiles at you while there are a few drops of sweat traveling between his chest. 

“Cum in my mouth,” as much as you want to keep him inside of you, you also want to taste him. He pulls out of you and you immediately feel so empty while cool air brushes over your folds. Tom stands up and removes his condom while you turn around and starts licking his shaft up and down. You start sucking on it, taking it in as much as you can. Tom puts his hands on your head, but he is not forcing you towards him. He is removing the strands from your pink wig off of your face. 

You open your eyes and look up at his face, his eyes shut down and curse words coming out of his pretty pink lips. As you look in the mirror behind him, you can see the way his ass cheeks are tensing, gently fucking your mouth. That sight excites you so much. If you thought you were done after your third orgasm, you were wrong, cause you can feel the familiar pulsating feeling deep down inside of you. You reach down and start lightly pressing on your clit, not going too fast cause you don’t want to lose focus and mess with the way you’re pleasuring him.

“I’m cumming,” Tom says as warm, sharp and salty liquid fills your mouth. You keep moving your head up and down, guiding him through his pleasure. Not stopping until he backs away, trembling from pleasure. Your mouth suddenly feels so empty, even though there are still traces of him there. You tried to gulp it all down, but the thickness and saltines of his cum and the way he pulled out of your mouth so abruptly makes you spit a few drops on your chin and chest. 

"Sorry…" Tom breathes out as he tries to calm down from his orgasm. 

"No, no, it's okay…" your fingers travel down your chest to pick up a few drops of cum sliding down. Your other hand is still down there, pressing your clit and drawing out the heat you felt just a few moments while you were sucking him off.

"Wait, I'll help," Tom kneels down in front of you and picks up the traces of him from your chest. He looks around, "I need to find a tissue to wipe my fingers off," but you grab him by the hand and guide it towards your mouth. You start licking his fingers clean and his face quickly turns from surprised to turned on. He makes sure you lick them all, pushing them deeper and deeper into your mouth, until a few tears form in your eyes. It is only then that he finally notices that you've been teasing and dragging your fingers over your entrance the entire time.

"I fucked you so hard and you still want more, princess? You are insatiable." He quickly pulls his hand out of your mouth and you release a disappointed grunt. But it doesn't last long, because he slides two of his already wet fingers into your pussy. 

"Yes…" you moan as he starts picking up the pace. But Tom doesn't go fast this time. He keeps teasing you, pushing his fingers slowly, so deep inside of you and then pulling them in to rub your clit for a few glorious seconds. He repeats this motion way too many times for you to keep up. It’s almost like you’re floating. 

You are overstimulated, all of your senses focus on the pleasure he keeps giving you with his fingers. It isn't until he speeds up and starts fingering you that you finally start letting go and giving up to him completely. Tom tries to keep you in place, but your legs are trembling and you are not sure how much longer it'll be for your knees to give up.

"Is this okay?" Tom asks as you feel his long fingers gently wrapping around your neck. You nod and moan, not being able to produce any coherent word. Not quite sure is it his delightful movements on your g-spot, his voice or the way his other hand keeps pressing on the sweet spot on your neck, but in almost no time you can feel the oh-so-familiar feeling finally building up enough to explode. 

It’s like you’re in slow motion, the only thing you can feel are his fingers pressing the right spot at the right speed. A loud low growl escapes your lips as you ride the most joyous orgasm you ever felt. Wetness is dripping out of you, all over the floor and him. He kisses you breathlessly, like he never wants to let go of you. You're sure he can still taste himself on your lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. Tom looks so hungry for you, cupping your face with that same hand that was on your neck just a few moments ago. Once he stops, he mumbles a little "fuck", his forehead resting on yours.

"Let me help you clean up," you can barely speak, your voice still shaking.

"Of course not, darling, wait for me 'till I get you some towels," Tom hands you your panties from his pocket once he finally pulls his pants up. He doesn't even bother to properly button up his shirt, he just throws it over his shoulders, having his toned chest and that silver chain on display. You can't help but smile once you're on your own. You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, but you're more than excited to try it out.

Once he gets back, he immediately starts cleaning your wetness from your thighs, going thoroughly over your skin.

"It's Y/N by the way."

"It feels like we’re doing this backwards, but it’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N." Tom lifts his head up and gives you a disarming smile. 

"I figured, since you're my boss now, it's only fair that you'd know my name, y'know, to sign my paychecks and stuff like that…" you can feel the butterflies forming in your belly and there was no turning back now. 

"I know they say that the boss shouldn't have any favorites, but I think I already have one."

"I just hope you won't change your mind once you meet the others," you lift your head up and your bliss gets interrupted once you see one little dot blinking. The red light you completely forgot about. That's when you feel a sudden change in your heartbeat. "Tom, there is a camera up there!" 

"So..? I mean is that a problem?"

"Well, if there was anyone in the back office, they could've seen us!"

"I'm sure we gave them one hell of a show," you can't help but feel relieved. The way he handles things that could be a problem somehow makes you feel more attracted to him. You smirk and he starts leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs, "speaking of, wanna give them another one?"

"Right now?" You laugh and playfully mess with his curls, completely ruining his hair. Tom lifts himself up and comes near to your face. He leaves a few pecks on your lips. You part your lips and deepen the kiss. His kisses are different now. Less needy. Slower, deeper. Meaningful. 

Once he parts his lips from yours, he says "Right now."

"Well, look who is insatiable now," you say and grab his silver chain, pulling him back to you and kissing him once again. Seems like it’s going to be one long night.

♡♡♡

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!

Taglist: @thefallenbibliophilequote @beverlyparkerr @ladykxxx08 @devotion @dvhling @svturtles @mlmarint @lovelytholland @nehirsu @veryholland @hollandcrush

[heliads]

Patch Me Up

Thomas can’t help but set his heart on the prettiest Med-Jack in the Glade, Y/N L/N. The only problem is that Thomas is fairly sure that she’s way out of his league.

masterlist

The first time Thomas winds up in the med-jack clinic, he’s kind of embarrassed about it.

It wasn’t like he really meant to injure himself, anyway. It just so happened that he was really behind on clearing the weeds from whatever woebegotten section of the gardens the track hoes had allowed him to use, and Newt and Zart had stepped away for the time being, so Thomas got the bright idea to grab a longer blade from their casual resting place in the grass and try to lop all of the vines down before his friends saw. It was a great idea, of course, until his shins happened to be in the way.

Now Thomas is standing in the middle of his garden plot, blood leaking down into the soil, and all he can think about is the fact that he has no idea where to go from here. The vines have all been savagely cut away, which is perfect for him, but it’s too late to hide the bloodstain on the blade or the smear of red on his leg. He doesn’t really know what he expects Newt to say when he finds out, but he definitely doesn’t expect the blond boy to start laughing.

“Jeez, Greenie, you really are a klutz. First you trip while running to the Maze when you’re not even five minutes out of the Box, then you manage to stab yourself while gardening. How do you do it?” Thomas glares at his friend, who’s almost doubled over laughing now. “It’s not like it happened on purpose. Besides, I didn’t stab myself, it’s just a scratch.” Newt attempts to control himself. “Right, I’m sure about that. Not sure why you would go around slicing yourself, but I’m not about to question you. Come on, then, you’ll have to get the med-jacks to see to that.”

Thomas frowns, but follows Newt as the blond second in command starts to lead him away from the gardens and back towards the buildings of the Homestead and the center of the Glade. “The med-jacks?” Newt nods. “They’re what passes for doctors around here. They’ll fix you up with some bandages and antibiotics and you’ll be good to go, so long as you don’t stab yourself when trying to pick the tomatoes.” Newt was expecting Thomas’ attempt to hit him and dodges easily, which is unfortunate.

Eventually, Newt and Thomas enter a door into a structure that’s less a building and more just a hut. A roof is propped up on logs and twigs and whatever else the Builders could find, and Thomas can see rows of beds and tins of medical supplies lying around. It’s a mess, that’s for sure, but what isn’t in the Glade? Thomas has to hurry over to Newt, who’s already disappearing around a corner. 

When Thomas catches up with Newt again, he’s surprised to see the blond boy talking to someone, a bright smile on his face. Newt, upon seeing Thomas approach, beckons for him to come over. “This is Thomas, by the way. Thomas, this is Y/N. She’s the one who patches most of us up around here.” 

All of a sudden, Thomas feels like he’s been caught in the middle of a sunspot. There’s a girl in front of him now, a beautiful girl that makes Thomas wonder how on Earth he hasn’t seen her around before. He’s sure that he would remember her- even now, he’s doing his best to carefully memorize every detail of her face and hands and smile so he can cherish the memory for the days to come. She’s gorgeous, that much is certain, and she’s looking at him with so much happiness over just him that Thomas wants to grin stupidly.

However, he can’t just stand here gaping like an idiot, so he closes his mouth and manages a nod in greeting. Newt, watching with a raised eyebrow, seems to be enjoying this. “Don’t get too infatuated, Greenie. Y/N’s used to all of us and so she won’t ever go out with any of us. That’s just how it is.” Y/N laughs. “Maybe I’m just sick of the rest of you coming in here all the time to bother me.” Newt shrugs. “That too.”

They talk for a few moments, then Y/N claps her hands together, almost startling Thomas. “Right, Greenie, what’s your problem? I mean, what happened that would bring you to the med-jack hut?” Newt grins first at Thomas, then at Y/N. “I’m going to let you explain that one, greenbean. I’ll meet you back in the gardens.” With that, and a parting wave, Thomas is left alone with the closest thing to an angel he’s ever found in his life.

He doesn’t have time to sit and think about this, though. Y/N’s still regarding him expectantly, and Thomas can feel his cheeks start to heat up at the ridiculousness of his injury. Of course, the first time he meets a girl like Y/N he has to do it by the stupidest of means. Thomas gestures roughly towards his leg. “I, uh, accidentally cut myself.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “While in the gardens?” Thomas nods. “While in the gardens.” 

He half expects her to laugh at him like Newt had, but instead she shrugs and reaches for a roll of bandages and some ointment. “Not the worst injury I’ve seen, or the worst story. You should have seen the things Newt used to come in here for. I think he once twisted an ankle when he was walking too close to a tree and forgot to move out of the way.” Thomas almost snorts. “He what?” Y/N looks up at him, halfway through treating his cut. There’s a laugh dancing behind her eyes that makes Thomas’ smile widen in spite of itself.

“Yeah, he tripped over a tree. We all thought it was hilarious and wouldn’t stop teasing him about it for weeks. Ask him and he’ll deny it, of course, but it happened nonetheless.” Thomas’ cheeks almost hurt from smiling this much. “Is that why he limps all the time? He hurt himself doing something like that?” All of a sudden, Y/N’s smile slips away from her. There’s a look in her eyes that tells Thomas that something happens, something bad that she can’t seem to shake. “No, not that.”

She stands up now, pressing a roll of bandages into his hands. “Here, that should hold for a while. Change your bandages before you go to bed, you don’t need me for that. It’s a shallow cut, so you’ll be fine.” Thomas wants to curse himself. Why’d he have to bring that up and make her feel so bad? “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Y/N forces a smile, which is almost as bad to see as if she’d just started glaring at him. “No, it’s fine. You should probably go back to the gardens, though. I think Newt is waiting.”

Before he knows it, Thomas is standing outside the med-jack hut, staring at the door closed right in front of him. For a moment, all he can do is just stay there and think about what just happened. Thomas thought that whatever had happened to Newt was old, an injury that happened a while ago. Judging by Y/N’s reaction, though, it’s still fresh in her mind, and now he’s gone and reminded her of it. What does he do about that?

The second time Thomas finds himself in the med-jack hut, he does his best to avoid it.

It wasn’t like this injury was all that bad. Still embarrassing, still ended up with blood on his hands, but he didn’t need to go to the med-jacks, he’d be fine. That’s what Thomas tried to tell Minho, anyway, but his friend wouldn’t listen. “If you end up getting that cut infected, it’ll be a lot worse and Y/N will kill us all. Just go, you’ll be in and out in ten seconds and it’ll be fine.” Thomas tries his best to protest and come up with excuses to stay away from the flimsy hospital room, but in the end, Minho won’t take no for an answer, practically dragging him towards the hut anyway.

It’s not like Thomas has a particular aversion to getting medical treatment, it’s just that he’s afraid to see the girl there waiting for him. Ever since that day, when he’d mistakenly brought up Newt’s injury, Thomas can’t help but feel guilty. He can’t figure out quite what it was that would make Y/N’s seemingly ever-bright eyes darken like an approaching storm, but it was definitely something he’d said. He’s not sure that Y/N will really want to talk to him, as she’d more than given that impression by shooing him out of her workplace, so he’s done his best to avoid the med-jack hut.

However, he can’t exactly tell all this to Minho, so all Thomas can do is try his best to argue his friend out of a trip to the hut. Minho refuses, of course, and Thomas finds himself waiting in the med-jack hut a few minutes later, arms crossed over his chest in annoyance. He sends up a silent prayer to whoever is listening that he’ll get Clint or Jeff, but when he hears someone say his name in a surprised voice, he recognizes it as Y/N and Y/N alone.

She walks over to them, holding a thermometer from where she’d been organizing a box of supplies recently arrived from the Box. “What’s up, you guys?” Minho jerks his thumb towards Thomas with a grimace. “This shank went and cut himself on the walls of the Maze while we were out running. He tripped and caught himself, but his shoulder bit it. It was kind of funny, actually.” Y/N playfully swats Minho while she walks by. “No making fun of injuries, Minho. We’ve talked about this. I’m the only one who gets to do that.”

Now she’s standing in front of Thomas, grimacing in sympathy at the small bloodstain over his shoulder blade. “You’ll need to clean that up pretty soon. Minho, you go ahead to the Map Room. I’ll take care of Thomas.” Minho flashes her a thumbs up, already starting to jog out of the room. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” Y/N grins as she watches him go, then turns back to Thomas, who’s still standing there with apprehension rising in his chest. What is he supposed to say now? Sorry I brought up what might have been a traumatic incident in your past, I didn’t know and kind of felt loopy whenever you smiled at me? Yeah, that wouldn’t really work out too well.

As it turns out, he doesn’t have to think at all. She’s already conjuring up a fresh grin for him, an inquisitive expression on her face. “You know, usually whenever Greenies show up, they go through the same routine of showing up here with fake injuries just to see the one girl in the Glade, but seeing as Minho had to physically drag you here, I don’t think that’s the case. Bandages again?” Thomas manages to nod. “Sure, that sounds great.”

Y/N’s already spinning back across the room to grab the roll of bandages, but she holds up a finger in the air just in case. “That’s good, because I wasn’t asking. That’s a little check, just to make sure you aren’t out of your shucking mind.” Thomas snorts. “Who isn’t?” Y/N laughs as she starts to dress the wound. “Well, I was kind of wondering if you were. You’ve practically been avoiding me ever since we met.”

Thomas has to admit that this is true- in all of his fear to misspeak again, he’s been constantly passing up opportunities to talk to Y/N again. He doesn’t sit next to her at meals, he doesn’t cross the bonfire to say hello. Looking back at it now, it does look as if he’s been trying to distance himself, even if that couldn’t be further from how he felt. Thomas scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Maybe I’m still a dumb Greenie who doesn’t know how to talk to the one girl in the Glade.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “That’s a lie and you know it. Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?” There’s a hesitancy in her question, like she’s second-guessing herself. Thomas almost rushes over himself in his haste to convince her that this isn’t her fault. “No, it’s not like that. It’s just- I know I upset you the last time we talked, and I felt bad about that. I guess I just kind of figured that you wouldn’t want to see me for a while.”

Y/N looks up at him in surprise, bandages forgotten. “What are you talking about? Thomas, that was a one time thing, I swear. It was just a hard day and a hard memory, nothing more. Shuck, you’ve been guilting yourself over this the entire time?” Thomas shrugs, a slight smile on his lips. “Well, not the whole time.” When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, he clarifies. “Maybe a little bit more than most of the time. Okay, a lot.”

Y/N giggles, and Thomas almost wants to make a fool of himself a few more times just to hear it. “Consider this whole thing over and done. I officially forgive you for something that I forgot about an hour after the conversation.” She grins, and Thomas grins with her. “That sounds good to me.” Y/N nods, taking a step backward to consider her work. “You know what would sound good to me? If you stopped injuring yourself all the time. I mean, I go through a roll of bandages like every hour.”

Thomas scoffs. “That’s because there are more shanks in the Glade than just me, Y/N. I’m not the only one getting hurt.” Y/N points at him to further her point. “Yeah, you’d better not. In fact, simply stop being injured. Easy as that.” He can’t help but laugh, and Y/N’s eyes sparkle triumphantly at this. “You’ve got a nice laugh, Thomas.” As with anyone else, Thomas’ laugh dries up slightly when he hears this truth, like the second he’s complimented he has to hide that very thing.

He doesn’t know what to do now, where to go from here. All he can really do is stand here and watch her smiling at him. To be honest, Thomas is fairly sure that’s all he would ever want to do. He knows it’s time for him to leave and stop bothering her, but Y/N’s looking at him like she just might give him a chance, so he decides to offer her one. “I hear they’re having a bonfire later tonight. Want to go with me?” Y/N’s grin broadens. “Absolutely.”

Just like that, Thomas’ day is made.

maze runner tag list: the a-maze-ing (haha) @underc0vercryptid​, @ellobruv

[itsdanii]

Because I’m an angst-addicted ball of misery, is it okay if I request drabbles of Fuckboy!Atsumu and Fuckboy!Oikawa being the crush of the reader but she knows of how they treat other girls and doesn’t want to end up heart broken and since she’s shy and introverted, the boys barely know her aside from her being a classmate?

She tries to keep a simple distance away from them until said boys randomly show an interest in her and they start showing her attention, love, and treating her better than the girls they messed with until after a few weeks she overhears from them or their teammates that it’s out of pity/they were bored because Y/N seemed easy to mess with.

Y/N doesn’t let them know she overheard them, instead a switch is flipped and she’s emotionless around them and avoids them. When they ask why she’s like that, she simply says “I won’t let you hurt me like the others.” She basically treats them like they don’t exist (she’s friendly to everyone but them) and said f!boys regret it and bust their asses to fix everything between them (I read how you felt about full angst, so the reader just blocked their number, social media’s, and treat them like the plague until they prove that they truly love her or regret messing with her :) )

Hey, bub. Sorry for the slight delay! I hope you don't mind me making slight adjustments about the plot for my comfort 🥺 And uh... this drabble turned out to be a oneshot because I got carried away. I only did Atsumu's part which went over 3k+ works 👁️👄👁️ Anyway, I hope that you still like it. Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! ♥️

Karma's a b*tch

genre: angst to fluff

warning/s: rude behavior (resolved), cursing, self doubt and insecurity(?), do message me if I missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason

ft. fboy!atsumu miya, f!reader

never play with a girl's feelings. wanna know why? just read the title.

You stared at the back of Atsumu's head dreamily, your elbows propped on your desk as you basically ignored the world around you.

Contrary to the belief that noisy students always sat on the back, Atsumu and his twin were actually seated in front. Despite being in the middle of a class discussion, the two kept on chattering as if the teacher didn't exist. The teacher basically gave up already trying to shut them up since they never listened anyway.

You knew that she could've just sent them to detention but of course, who would do that to the miya twins? People almost worshipped them and your teacher wasn't excluded. Everytime she entered the room, you noticed how she would always cast a glance at the Miya twins and smile "politely."

The two, of course, took advantage of it. If it meant being able to get away with their noise by just simply smirking at the teacher in front of them, they'd do it. They already did anyways. They never did anything more than that though, and for some reason you were thankful that they never crossed that line.

You jolted up slightly when the bell suddenly rang, a loud yelp slipping past your lips out of shock. With your eyes widening like saucers, you felt your cheeks heating up when majority of your classmates turned their head towards your direction, some having a grin on their faces while the others having a look of displease.

However, their stare didn't matter as much as a specific person's did. A pair of brownish eyes stared at you intensely, his gaze so intense it was enough to make you almost squirm in your seat.

Feeling your heart rate picking up along with the shiver running down your spine, you looked down at your lap, successfully cutting your eye contact with Miya Atsumu - the guy you secretly liked despite being hailed as your school's certified f!ckboy.

"Make sure to finish all your requirements this upcoming weekend. You're all seniors so I have high expectations on your outputs, understood?"

With a series of "Yes, ma'am," the class was dismissed.

The room was filled with different noises - subgroups gossiping with each other, the footsteps of students hurrying their way out, the rustling of papers, clanking of chairs and the voices of the class representatives reminding the assigned people to clean properly.

It was lively, for them at least.

As for you, you preferred being alone. No, you weren't some weird nerd kid who acted as if they hated the world. Instead, you preferred categorizing yourself as one of those people who were naturally shy and introverted.

You don't really like crowds nor socializing. You've always opted on sitting by the corner, just enjoying the calmness silence brings you.

Grabbing your books from your desk, you stood up and made your way to the door, head casted a little downwards to avoid making eye contact with people, knowing that doing so will result to interactions, and who has time for interactions anyway? Certainly not you.

With the lack of paying attention, you failed to notice someone who was rushing their way out. Like a cliche movie, your body collided with them, the impact causing you to stumble backwards, loosening your grip on your books as they fell on the floor.

Luckily, the person behind you managed to catch you on time, their hand gripping the small of your back to keep your bum from meeting the floor.

"Whoa, there. Ya alright, princess?" spoke the familiar voice just behind your ear, his breath against your skin giving you small goosebumps.

Instantly, you jerked away. Turning around to face him, you bowed down while muttering continuous apologies. "Miya! I didn't mean to bump into you, I.. I swear. I was just walking out and then somebody j-"

Chuckling, Atsumu placed a hand on top of your head, giving your hair a small ruffle which eventually made you look up at him. "Calm down, I ain't mad at ya. No need to be so flustered."

With a stiff nod, you mumbled a small "Okay," before bending down to pick your books off the floor. You didn't fail to notice how your hands were trembling and you silently prayed to whoever diety was watching over you that Atsumu won't notice it.

"Yer y/n, right?" Atsumu asked as he bent down as well, one hand clutching your book as he let his finger trace over the name written on it. "A pretty name fer a pretty face like yers."

You wouldn't be surprised if he'd ask if you were doing okay because by now, you were a hundred percent sure that your face must be looking like a red tomato. "Thanks I guess," you said, giving him a shy smile before taking the book from his hand.

The small encounter was cut off by someone calling for Atsumu's name. Turning your head to the direction of the noise, you noticed Osamu walking towards you with a small frown on his face, one hand gripping the strap of his bag as he went on how they're going to have to run extra laps again if they ever got late for practice.

Atsumu only chuckled at Osamu before turning his focus back on you. With a cheeky smile, he booped the tip of your noise fondly. "Guess I'll see ya around, pretty thing. Careful not to stumble again, alright? Don't want another man catchin' ya."

With that, Atsumu went on his merry way, turning around one more time to send you a wink, chuckling as you gave him a slow wave before his figure disappeared from your vision as a mere dot.

"See ya later..." you whispered on thin air, lips unconsciously curling up as you stared at the direction he went off to. Once you snapped out of your daze, you bit your lip to stop yourself from squealing like a school girl in love.

Well, technically, you were a school girl in love, right?

That night, as you laid on your bed staring at your ceiling full of glow in the dark stars, you thought that maybe it wasn't so bad making conversations with people every once in a while.

-

The days went by pretty quickly.

At first, you thought that everything will be back to normal. After all, you never tried associating yourself with people. Your high school life was basically nothing but waking up early for school then going back home after class and then repeat.

However, something was strange. In fact, it was very strange. Not only were people trying to befriend you but the one and only Atsumu Miya was actually making an effort to talk to you, and to say that you were confused would be an understatement.

He basically didn't pay attention nor spared you a glance before, until that day you bumped into him.

You knew that it wasn't a good practice to judge someone based on what other people say but he wouldn't be called as your school's f!ckboy for nothing. He'd change his girlfriend almost every week as if he's only changing clothes, cruelly dump those who did not meet his certain standards and doesn't care even if a girl cries infront of him. Those are exactly why you tried not associating yourself with him nor his twin.

But there was something about Atsumu Miya that kept on drawing you in. You didn't know if it was his annoying piss colored hair, intense gaze, or the aura surrounding him. You couldn't help but wonder how someone like him, the exact type of person you swore you hated, managed to keep you attracted like a moth on to a flame.

It was weird.

And yet you loved it.

"Ya know y/n, ya kinda wound me," Atsumu said, plopping himself down beside you on the cafeteria.

With your hand clutching the chopsticks mid-air, you surveyed your area, noting how some heads, specifically the Inrizaki VBC's, turned to your direction. "Sorry, what do you mean?" you muttered as soon as your eyes met Atsumu's.

"I literally thought we're already friends when I saved yer ass from falling backwards," Atsumu answered before stuffing his mouth with an Onigiri, no doubt made by Osamu.

Placing your chopsticks down, you wiped your lips with some napkin before speaking up. "I'm sorry for asking this but... what's with the sudden interest, Miya?"

You were aware of how snappy you sounded, but in reality, it was your own defense mechanism acting up. Just how were you supposed to ignore him when it's he himself who kept on clinging to you?

"Hm, what do ya mean? Is it so hard to believe that I'm trying to befriend ya?" Atsumu tilted his head a bit to the side, his lips curling up into a smirk. "Why not try givin' me a chance, princess? That isn't so much to ask for."

You organized your now empty bento, placing it on the side before focusing your whole attention to the man in front of you. "I've seen how you treated girls before," you said with a low voice, averting your gaze from him to avoid melting into a puddle.

Damn stupid feelings.

"I see..." Atsumu said with a slow nod. "Then I guess that makes it more of a challenge."

Your eyebrows immediately furrowed upon hearing that, your curiosity spiking up at what his words meant. "Challenge? What do you mean?"

Instead of answering you, Atsumu just stood up, his bento in hand with the side of his lips curled up. "I'll see ya around, princess."

With that, you were left alone in your table, eyes still trained on Atsumu as he made his way back to the Inarizaki VBC's table. You watched as most of his friends chuckled while patting his back, some even sending a glance towards your direction.

Deciding that pondering over it would only be a waste of time, you stood up and made your way back to your classroom, failing to notice a grey haired Miya watching you.

-

You let out a small squeak as someone behind you reached for the same book you've been trying to get for almost 5 minutes now. Tilting your head back a little, you were met with an upside down vision of Miya Atsumu's face.

With your arms still raised in the air, you spun around to face him, your back flush against the bookshelf keeping you basically trapped. "Miya," you mumbled while looking up at him, one hand fisting the side of your skirt to release some pressure.

"Here," he simply said while handing you the book, obviously holding back from laughing at your flustered expression. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna try anythin' that would make ya uncomfortable. I was just passin' by and saw you strugglin'."

"And he even tucked my hair behind my ear!"

"He did that?" your cousin spoke from beside you.

Both of you were seated on top of your bed, legs crissed crossed as you gossiped about your interactions with Miya Atsumu.

For the past few weeks, you've been having encounters with Atsumu - in the cafeteria, in the library and even outside of school where he claimed that he was out to buy some ingredients for Osamu and only managed to bump into you "coincidentally". Name it and he'll be there.

With these constant encounters stirring up your feelings, you had to resort on calling your cousin for some girl time in order to save your sanity. Luckily, your parents had no objection. They were even happy that you were actually trying to open up to other people. It was only your cousin but according to your parents, "A small step is still a step."

Plopping your back on your bed, you grunted as you placed both of your hands on your cheeks. "Mhm. I just don't get it you know? He's basically this popular guy that plays volleyball, has a group of girls swarming over him and has the face and body that looks like it's been sculpted by God himself, and yet he's wasting his time on me."

You looked at your cousin with a small pout, one hand reaching out to poke her thigh. "Am I just overthinking things?"

With a breathy chuckle, your cousin laid down beside you. "Maybe? I can't really say for sure since I don't know this Miya guy except your description of him, but what I think is that you should give him a chance."

Hearing that, you laid on your side to face her, elbows propped up against the mattress as you rested your cheek on your palm. "Aila, have you been listening to me? He is a f! ckboy. Dangerous, treats girls like shit, and undeniably sexy. What if his sudden interest is only a one time thing? What if he's just messing with me?"

"And what if he isn't?" Upon hearing no reply, your cousin took your silence as her cue to continue. "What if people just labeled him as this so called 'f!ckboy' because that's what they perceive him to be? What if inside him is just someone who's vulnerable, trying to protect themselves from getting hurt by people so they end up hurting others first to save themselves from the pain? What if he's just waiting for someone who wanted to really know him, the real him? Would you really deprive him of that opportunity just because of what you hear from other people?"

"I... I don't know.."

"Miya isn't here to defend himself and I'm not trying to defend him, but don't you think you should at least give him the benefit of the doubt?" Aila smiled as she settled herself on a comfortable position. "Give him a chance, y/n. Everyone deserves to get one. It's up to him to prove whether he's worth the chance he was given."

You sighed deeply, letting her words sink in as you also shifted yourself on a comfortable position, raising your comforter up until it reaches just below your chin. "Then what happens if he isn't worth the chance he's given?"

With a hum, your cousin just shrugged. "Then you either forgive him and let it go or... give him the finger and tell him 'f!ck you' for messing with your feelings," she said with a short giggle.

"It's something only you in the future can decide. Goodnight, y/n."

With a thankful smile, you turned the lamp off as you whispered, "Mh, goodnight, Aila."

-

"Let's be friends," you said as you slammed a box of onigiri in front of Atsumu, a smacking sound resonating in the air making the rest of the boys look at your direction.

Even the sound of balls whooshing in the air stopped, replaced by the sound of them dropping suddenly on the gym's floor.

With his lips parted, Atsumu shifted his gaze from the onigiri, Osamu, Suna and you. "Ah..." he muttered as if he was just as shocked as you for having the guts to come inside the gym in the middle of their training.

Feeling your cheeks heating up out of embarrassment due to his lack of response, you looked down and started to fiddle with you fingers. "You said you wanted to be my friend and I kept on keeping my distance from you so I thought you might appreciate those onigiri as my peace offering." You scratched the back of your head before giving him an awkward smile. "A-anyway, that's all! I'll see you around, Miya!"

Atsumi could only watch you as you dashed out of the gym. Snapping out of his daze, he looked down at the box of Onigiri, smiling unconsciously as he noticed the sticky note posted on top with "Good luck on your practice, Miya! :))" written on it.

"Interestin'," Atsumu whispered before standing up, Kita's voice filling the air as he called the team back for practice.

-

It's safe to say that after that embarrassing moment, you became friends with Atsumu. You even became close with his twin because they were always with each other. It wasn't long then when the usual duo became three - Atsumu, Osamu, and you.

It was hard to adjust at first. Your female classmates would always glare at you and spout out some nasty remarks but the twins were always there to defend you. In fact, you even met the whole team and hanged out with them when you didn't have some academic tasks to finish.

It was fun, and you were thankful for your cousin who gave you the advise of giving Atsumu a chance.

But there was a downside on the situation.

Your feelings which you kept hidden for a long time was only growing day by day, and you were afraid that it was slowly showing signs.

How?

Everytime Atsumu was near, your heart would beat so fast that you felt like you just finished a 4 kilometer run. Your hands would become clammy, breath would hitch, and face would heat up whenever he teases you, and don't even forget to add that one time you literally froze when you spun around, only to come face to face with him - nose almost touching, lips ghosting against each other with only an inch keeping you apart.

You were playing a dangerous game and yet you had no intention of stopping, not knowing that it wasn't only you who had a secret.

Because Atsumu Miya was also playing a game - something much more dangerous than yours.

-

"Where's 'Tsumu?" you asked as you peeked your head inside the gym.

Kita, who was about to walk out, gave you a smile before opening the door wider for you to come in. "Atsumu's in the storage room. The twins made a mess again so I told them to go clean up before we start practice."

"Typical," you said with a short giggle. "Anyway, I'm just going to drop off Atsumu's hoodie that I borrowed last week. I'll watch over them while you do your business."

"That would be great. Thank you so much, y/n-san. Call me if something happens," Kita said, giving you a small nod before leaving.

As you entered the empty gym, you grimaced upon seeing something that looks like spilled milk on the floor. With a shake of your head, you made your way near the storage room sneakily in attempts of scaring Atsumu.

However, as you got closer, you heard two familiar voices. It was Atsumu's and Osamu's voice, and basing from the way they were speaking, it seemed as if they were in the middle of an argument.

"The fuck did ya say?" It was Osamu.

"I said I was only playin' with her. I mean, she's so easy, don't ya think? It basically only took me a couple of weeks and she came runnin' to me with that box of Onigiri, claimin' she wanted to be friends," Atsumu said, followed by a chuckle. "As if I didn't notice the way she acted around me. I'm telling ya, that girl is in love with me."

"And so, what if she is? That's not an excuse for ya to play with her feelings, dipshit."

Hearing Atsumu huff, you slightly backed away from the door, only to freeze when you heard his next words.

"Y/n is nothin' but a toy to me, somethin' I can dispose of when I got bored."

Biting your lower lip, you clenched the handle of the paperbag you were holding before running out with tears streaming down your face.

You ran as fast as you could, ignoring the worried looks you're getting from the people you were passing by. Even Kita was shocked to see you yet he didn't bother calling out, thinking that you might be needing some alone time for yourself.

You skipped class.

Throughout your whole Highschool life, this was the first time you skipped your class and it was a bummer that the reason was Atsumu Miya.

Stirring your strawberry milkshake from a nearby cafe, you thought about Atsumu's words, another batch of tears streaming down your face as you realized how pathetic you were for believing that he isn't what others say.

Maybe your cousin was wrong.

Atsumu Miya wasn't worth the chance he was given, because he only proved that once a f!ckboy, always a f!ckboy.

-

You blocked Atsumu's social media accounts.

In fact, you even blocked and deleted his number to stop getting in contact with him.

Even in person, you didn't bother paying him any attention unlike before. You stopped coming to their practices, stopped giving him food and stopped talking to him.

You basically acted as if he didn't exist.

It was hard because you knew that your heart belonged to him, but you had to endure it. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction for playing with you. You know your worth and there's no way you're going to let some f*ckboy ruin you.

"Y/n, would ya stop?!" Atsumu said as he grabbed your wrist, effectively stopping you from walking away from him any further.

"Get your hands off me, Miya. I don't wanna talk to you." You struggled against his hold, trying to take your hand back, only to fail when he tightened his grip.

"The hell's yer problem? What's with the sudden attitude? Yer basically ignorin' me and I don't have any idea what I did. Just tell me what I did wrong instead of actin' like a little brat." Letting go of your wrist, Atsumu groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair out of frustration. "I.. I don't like this."

You laughed, eyes squinting as you let out a fit of giggles before pointing at him. "You don't like this? Why not, Miya? I'm just a toy for you, right? So, I don't really get why you don't like this. Is it because you're not bored of me yet so you're not willing to dispose of me?" Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at him with a serious expression. "Well, I'm sorry to say this but I'm not going to let you hurt me like the others. I'm not a plaything nor am I desperate like those girls pining over you. Have fun looking for a new toy. You're not worth playing with anyway."

That being said, you turned your back on Atsumu, ignoring the whispers that suddenly filled the hallway as the students parted some space for you, leaving Atsumu with his lips parted and feet frozen on the ground.

Serves you right, Miya.

-

Atsumu felt hollow.

With every passing day that you're ignoring him, conversing with people whom you never bothered associating yourself with before, the more he regret taking advantage of your feelings.

It was only supposed to be a game, nothing but a pass time and yet why did it felt like something was missing?

"I wasn't supposed to care," Atsumu said desperately while clutching his head in his hands, elbows propped on the table as he opened up to his twin. "F!ck...I think I like her, 'Samu."

"No shit, idiot," Osamu answered without taking his eyes off the stove. "I told ya several times to stop messin' with people's feelings and did ya ever listen? No. That's what ya get for bein' stupid."

Groaning, Atsumu rested his cheek against the table, facing Osamu's back. "Help me."

Slowing down from stirring the pot, Osamu looked at Atsumu through his shoulder. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, I'm yer twin. Aren't ya supposed to help me? Plus... y/n acts fine around ya." Atsumu sighed before sitting up properly. "I won't bother ya fer a week if ya help me out. I already did everythin' I could. Flowers, chocolates, even payin' attention in class just to impress them! Nothin' worked."

Osamu chuckled at the desperation and frustration in Atsumu's voice. "Deal." He turned the stove off, covering the pot before making his way to Atsumu. Sitting down, he crossed his arms over his chest while staring at the brokenhearted Miya. "Y/n is actually kind. Well, not until that moment she found out about yer stupidity. Have ya tried showin' her that yer willin' to change?"

Atsumu nodded. "I did. I even gave her the usual things girls like."

"I asked if ya showed her that yer willin' to change, not tried winnin' over her through bribery." When Atsumu didn't respond, Osamu let out a 'tsk' before continuing, "Just stop botherin' her and prove that ya regret what ya did."

"Easier said than done," Atsumu grumbled which earned him a smack on the head.

"Will ya stop bein' a sad boy already? I have a plan."

-

Its been two weeks.

Two weeks of no Miya Atsumu trying to apologize. Two weeks of no Miya Atsumu following you like a lost puppy while holding either chocolates or flowers.

Instead, what you were getting were these random post it notes on your locker, your desk, everywhere. Wherever you go, there would be random post it notes with various messages. Some contained cheesy quotations, the others short apology letters.

And despite how mad you were at Atsumu, you wouldn't be able to deny how cute the act was. Not only did he gave you space but also exerted an effort of silently letting you know that he'd be willing to wait for you.

You noticed how he stopped acting like a boss in class, opting to jot down notes instead of chattering with Osamu like usual. You also noticed how he stopped having a random girl beside him during breaks. Everytime you would pass by, no longer would he try to block your way and flick your forehead, but instead give you a hopeful smile before proceeding on his way wordlessly.

But what made you realize that he indeed regret what he did was that one time.

You were walking back to your classroom after forgetting your umbrella. The sound of the heavy rain tapping on the ground resonated on the empty hallways, the cold wind making you shiver as it whooshed in the air.

Wrapping your arms tightly around you, you entered your classroom, eyes widening as you saw Atsumu trying to fit something on the space below your desk while mumbling something.

Clearing your throat, you noticed Atsumu jolting up slightly before turning around to face your direction.

He smiled sheepily before scratching his nape. "I know it's yer birthday tomorrow so I was tryin' to fit this here. I guess there's no point hidin' it already since ya caught me anyway." Sighing, Atsumu picked up the fox stuffie and handed it to you. "Happy Birthday, y/n. I know yer still mad at me and ya probably hate me but I still wanted to give ya a present."

You stared at the fox in your hand, your fingers poking the fluffiness of the material as you fought back the urge to smile. "Thanks," you answered with a dismissive tone.

For a split second, it was silent, and you were aware of the intensity of Atsumu's gaze burning on your forehead, yet you refused to look up, knowing that once you did, you won't be able to hold yourself back and might just forgive him there and then.

"I like ya, I really do. I know I messed up big time fer taking advantage of ya and I'm sorry fer that. It was stupid and childish of me to think that the people around me are nothing but mere toys fer me to play with. I regret hurtin' yer feelings and I'll be willin' to wait until ya forgive me. Just know that I won't stop until ya do."

Hearing something rustling, you looked up and noticed Atsumu taking off his jacket. Within a few steps, he was already infront of you, draping his jacket over your figure. "I'll see ya around, princess. Don't get sick, alright?" Smiling, Atsumu gave your cheek a small pinch before heading out.

You were left in the empty classroom with nothing but the fox stuffie serving as your company. Atsumu's scent was swirling around you from the jacket you were given and at that moment, you haven't notice the single tear sliding down your cheek.

Because of all people, you never expected for Atsumu Miya to be the first one to greet you without having to remind them.

He was the first person you knew outside of your household to ever remember your birthday.

You hugged the stuffie close to your chest, burrying your face on top of its head as you let the comfort it brings envelope you.

-

You stared at the empty space infront, your head swirling as you thought of the possible reasons why Atsumu haven't been in class for three days now.

It's currently your last subject and throughout the whole day, you've been doing nothing but wonder where he was. You haven't asked Osamu about it yet since he was excused from the class due to the preparations for the upcoming match.

And so, the moment your class was dismissed, you rushed your way out, making your trip to the gym. You were thankful that they were in the middle of a water break so you had the chance to call out Osamu's name without having to worry about Kita.

"Y/n?" Osamu's eyebrow shot up upon seeing you. Suddenly, a knowing smile made its way to his lips. Standing up, he walked over to you. "He's sick," he said without even waiting for you to say something.

"Oh.." you muttered, shifting from one foot to another nervously before tugging at the hem of Osamu's jersey. "Do you... uhm, do you think it would be alright if I visit him after your practice? I wanna see if he's doin' alright."

"Alright. I think 'Tsumu would appreciate that. Why don't ya sit on the bench and wait a little for us to finish practice then ya can visit our house after?"

Upon hearing that, your face instantly lit up. You smiled at Osamu as you nodded.

Osamu only chuckled at you and fondly ruffled your hair, a habit he and Atsumu shared.

You waited patiently, and it wasn't long then when their practice finally finished. After Osamu took a shower, you both went on your way to their residence.

As you entered their house, Atsumu's voice immediately met your ears.

"'Samu! Cook me somethin', I'm starvin!"

You looked at Osamu who only shrugged as if he was already used to it. You took your shoes off and wore the slippers you were given before placing your bag on the couch.

"Our room is on the right. Go ahead and talk to him." Osamu said as he pointed on the door at the end of the hallway.

With a nod, you slowly made your way to their room, knocking softly before sliding your way in.

The first thing that greeted you were the mess of opened junk foods on the floor. Roaming your eyes around, you grimaced at the sight of empty water bottles littered around along with the volleyball laying on the ground.

Averting your eyes away from the trash, you looked at Atsumu whose back was facing you, his shoulder raising up and down evenly, indicating that he must be asleep.

Carefully, you walked claser and sat on the edge of his bed, your hand immediately feeling his forehead. "You're burning up," you mumbled, brushing his hair away from his face.

Suddenly, Atsumu's hand gripped your wrist, his eyebrows furrowed as he squinted his eyes. "Am I dreamin' or are ya a ghost?" he asked with a raspy voice.

"I'm not a ghost, 'Tsumu. I'm really here."

You watched as Atsumu slowly nodded before letting go of your wrist. "What're ya doin' here? I thought ya were still mad at me." Sitting up, Atsumu held the comforter close to him as he shivered.

"I heard you were sick. I'm no longer mad at you. I guess I'm still upset but I just can't hold a grudge against you forever, can I? That's not something I can do," you said with a shake of your head. "I really like you, you know? Despite your title of being a f!ckboy, I still fell for you. You were the first person I tried opening up to aside from my cousin. It's just a bummer that you ended up taking advantage of that vulnerability."

You felt Atsumu reaching out for you, his hand enveloping yours as he gave it a small squeeze. "I know, and I'm sorry. I really am."

"And if I give you another chance, will you prove me that you deserve it?" you asked as you looked at him, "I'm still hurt about what happened so I hope that if I give you this chance, you won't waste it."

"Yes. God, yes," Atsumu answered breathlessly, "I promise it won't happen again and I'll try to be better."

Suddenly, Atsumu wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you on his lap as he settled his head on the side of your neck. "Thank you," he mumbled repeatedly against your skin, his arms tightening around you as if he was afraid of letting go.

And he never did.

Indeed, there was something about Miya Atsumu that kept drawing you in, and despite the bumps and dangers that came along your way, you didn't withraw.

Because as you closed the last page of your photo album eight years from then, you realized how right your cousin was alll along.

Atsumu Miya was worth the chance he was given, and he proved it to you every single day, sealing it with the diamond ring now resting on your left hand.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

[eremiie]

a change of heart;

❥ nsfw | 6.1k words | eren x reader

❥ an annoyingly arrogant childhood friend has never seen the light of day in your eyes... until he does. eren jaeger was an anomaly that you thought you had figured out.

❥ content: cum play, choking, slight size kink, rough sex, unprotected sex

saying you liked eren was an understatement. you weren't fond of the boy— like at all.

it was something about him that you couldn't pinpoint, maybe it was the way he always had something smart to say back to you when you made the littlest comments, the way his eyebrows were always furrowed together as if he was constantly upset with you, the way he was just so aggressive— a handful if you must. you never liked the way he acted towards you, or anybody else for that matter so you never tried your luck at getting close to him.

or... maybe you didn't like that slight way your eyes widened when you first met him, or that run of his eyes over you on your first meeting. or was it the way you somewhat hoped to get into an argument with him just so you could bicker? something about your arguments thrilled you and sent a feeling you couldn't pinpoint through your body.

nevertheless, the bigger issue at hand was the fact that you couldn't seem to escape eren jaeger.

you were so unlucky and were deemed even unluckier when your mom happened to be the sweetest person on earth. she was the kind to bake a welcoming gift for the neighbors on your street, the kind to knock next door and ask in a sickeningly sweet voice for extra sugar for a recipe she was whipping up.

she'd done both of these things to your next door neighbor, which happened to be carla, carla jaeger.

once again, unluckily carla also happened to be such a sweet mom and you almost felt bad that she was blessed (cursed) with eren jaeger as a son. she was the type to bake something in return and gladly give you a small container of sugar that you would promise to bring back.

she'd done both of these things for your mom.

there advances were so continuous, and over the course of a couple years they became the most best friends imaginable, indulging in every mom-ly activity you could imagine together. this only forced you and eren to spend every unwanted second together.

you knew eren for only a couple years, yes, and you could still remember when his hair was just draped above his shoulders, an awkward length that you never failed to make weak jokes at just to see him get mad. but what you didn't know— or failed to realize that he would get even more annoying then the first time you met him.

maybe you were getting annoyed with the fact that his hair was no longer that awkward length and you couldn't throw the same lame jokes at him, because the length that it was at now? where it touched his shoulders and he threw it back into this awfully messy bun. maybe you were getting annoyed with the fact that now he was older and more occupied with the summer before college, you weren't forced to spend as much time with him, so you didn't see him much.

over these couple years though, your mom (being the doll she is) never failed to throw an annual barbecue that of course, carla always came to, not only did she come but they practically planned it together and had you and eren help out, unwillingly. they claimed it was an opportunity for you and eren to "actually get a long." because trust me— they knew about the tension between the two of you that they tried to break for years.

one of those annual barbecues seemed to be today, at the very minute, actually. you were standing next to eren, both of you with a tray of food in your hands as you awaited instructions, an irritated expression crossing both of your faces.

"okay, take those over to the buffet table you two, and then before you guys go crawl away to god knows where, one of you grab some utensils, napkins and plates and lay them down at the end of the table, and one of you turn on the speaker, guests will be flooding in soon." you chuckled at carla's comment. that's one thing you and eren had in common— the two of you almost completely hating this event if it wasn't for the good food. you would always sneak away to your room and eren would sit in your chair and mind his business while you'd lay on your bed doing your own thing. "and tell your mom i need her, _____!"

it was never an uncomfortable silence— no, as a matter of fact it wasn't always silent, lots of aimless arguments would arise and sometimes, eren would get really angry, but he never dared to leave the safety of your room rather than be surrounded by adults who claimed they'd known him since he was little.

"what?" eren asked you as you reminisced on the thought while the two of you began walking.

you glanced up at him, snapped out of your own head, him already peering down at you with furrowed brows and a slight frown on his face. "none of your business." that's not even what you meant to say but a smart retort was almost instinctive when it came to eren.

albeit your smart response he didn't send one back as he usually would, he just rolled his eyes and sat the food down on the buffet table, you doing the same. "i'll grab utensils and shit." you murmured in slight embarrassment from your quick comment eliciting no reaction. eren didn't look your direction, so you took that as a hint that he heard you as his body headed towards the direction of the old speaker that you knew'd be blasting old "parent" tunes.

you head inside, the smell of food grilling leaving your senses and the something in the midst of being baked filling them instead. you turned the corner of the dining room to enter the kitchen, your mom closing the oven after checking on the brownies baking. "hey, sweetheart, how's it going?" she asked you, smiling when she caught sight of you, all dressed nicely too, which was rare from your usual style; the black slip dress you wore coming mid thigh and lightly hugging your body. you were only wearing socks though, you didn't see the point in walking around in shoes when you'd just be retreating to the hole of your room and lounging around for as long as possible until your mom called you to help some more or to greet someone familiar.

"fine, me and eren just put down the last of the food already cooked. i'm about to set up cutlery and sh— stuff." your mom raised her eyebrow before nodding her head and watching you open up the cabinet at your feet to grab the grocery bag full of a new box of paper plates and napkins." all for the "save the turtles!" magnet your mom had pinned on the refrigerator. "hey, where are the plastic cutlery?" you asked, questioning its lack of presence in the plastic bag.

your mom turned her head towards you, from where she was wiping at her hands. "hm? oh! sorry, honey— i placed them in that cabinet up there because we had extras from that one family get together we had a couple weeks back.”

 ah, yes. you remembered that family get together. despite it being family, somehow carla and eren found their way into the gathering, and not to mention that being one of the last times you saw eren, and one of the most embarrassing times.

you see, the argument you had gotten in with eren that time was over him accidentally walking into your room in the middle of you changing for the event. you had yelled at him even though it was an accident, and that was one of the first times eren didn't try his hardest to win that argument, his face too flushed red, and his apologies and excuses seeming to not calm down your anger that hid your embarrassment.

but geez, for days after you were reminiscing on the drag of his eyes going down your back and over your ass before flickering back up to your eyes and only then realizing the situation at hand. you were just happy the encounter didn't make the next time you were seeing him, being now, too awkward.

your eyes drifted towards the cabinet above your head, the one your mom was eyeing at, and you sighed. "okay, thanks, and by the way miss carla wants you." your mom's eyes widened before she placed down the rag in her hands and scurried out the kitchen. you heard her speak a few words to someone but you weren't paying much attention as your fingertips began to reach upwards to pull at the cabinet doors. when it swung open a groan left your lips when you almost immediately spotted the brightest blue box of plastic cutlery at the top shelf.

"okay, _____... you can't reach that." you opted for climbing on top of the counter, and you did despite you wearing a dress, the fabric stretching as you propped yourself up on the surface, knees together while you used your hand to try and reach for the box.

your hand barely grazed it, but that didn't matter as eren's hands reached it for you, his back pressed against yours as he used his tippy toes and the stretch of his fingertips to knock the box down and grab it in the air before it could drop to the ground. the warmth of him behind you disappeared as he backed up and looked you over from your position on the counter. "if you couldn't reach it you should've had me get the stuff."

it was your turn to roll your eyes, heat rising to your cheeks before you climbed off the counter slowly and adjusted your dress. "shut up."

eren's arm came out to hand you the box. "since when did you start wearing dresses?" he asked abruptly, once again, those thick brows coming together in curiosity as you grabbed the box from his hands, stepping forward slightly.

"i've been wearing dresses, you're just too dumb to notice." your own gaze gave eren a once-over. he never dressed formally for any of these events like your mom made you. carla could never seem to get him into anything nice. plain black jeans with an almost too tight white shirt, and you could never fail to mention the key necklace draped around his neck that he once told you his dad gave him when you had asked "why do you always have that stupid necklace on?" he had gotten really defensive and only today you realized how insensitive that comment may have been considering the fact that he rarely saw his dad— as did you. you could only recall seeing the man twice, and at one time was at one of the barbecues. "i wore one... last time."

eren's eyes went up to the ceiling as he recalled "last time" realization dawning on his face, but before you could wait for his reply you were walking past him with your head pointed towards the ground as you told him, "you can go ahead and go up to my room, i'm gonna go put these down." and he watched you walk away before scratching his chin and doing just that.

you did what you had to do, placing down the cutlery and slipping past both your mother and carla before they could get you to do anything else.

when you opened the door to your room you were surprised to see eren sitting on your bed, shoes kicked off at the edge. you narrowed your eyes at him as he looked up from his phone at you. "what? your chair's broken." your eyes glanced to the chair that sat idle near your desk before you remembered— it was broken— no it wasn't broken, one of the wheels had just been screwed off and you nor your mom had the patience to fix it.

you lowered your suspicions at eren and merely nodded your head. you really didn't mind actually, the chair was eren's self proclaimed spot, he continued to sit their his self after the first barbecue, you never actually told him to.

"wow, i'm surprised you're not throwing a tantrum." he scoffed as you climbed onto your bed stomach flopping down next to eren who was propped up against your wall. your dress had ridden up in the slightest but you made no efforts to fix it, and you didn't make an effort to grab your phone either which was sat on your desk.

your arms held up your head, elbows on the bed as you looked up at eren with a raise of your eyebrow much like your mom. "you can get out." you half joked, eren looking down at you with lagoon green eyes.

"so you can leave me down to suffer with all those people? hell no, i'd surprisingly rather be up here with you."

you tilted your head at eren. "oh? why the change of heart?"

his stare sent a prickly sensation up your bare arms, and you turned over to your side so that your one arm propped up your head, your other draped across your waist. this was basically the first time you had a simple conversation without the two of you bothering each other, the first time you were somewhat amused by the words coming out of his mouth.

where was the old eren jaeger? this new eren jaeger couldn't help but think you looked... good, not to say he's never thought this before; the subconscious thought always in the back of his head, but now it was prevalent to him. the straps of your black dress so thin, and the way it hugged your body in the slightest was almost tantalizing. you didn't seem to be wearing a bra either, he could tell by the lack of support and straps. "huh?" you added when he didn't respond right away, eren's eyes snapping back up to your face.

he whipped up a quick response; "there wasn't a change of heart. you know i'm always up here... and you're tolerable today." he placed down his phone, interested in the conversation at hand. something was laced between your words, almost taunting, almost aware, more aware than you were earlier when the two of you had that encounter in the kitchen, more aware than you were when he accidentally walked in on you a couple weeks prior.

you felt confident today, you weren't sure if it was the mere maturity between the two of you that seemed to just decide to pop up today, you weren't sure if it was eren's new attitude, or if it was your attire that gave you the confidence you possessed. you always enjoyed you and eren's arguments, you loved seeing him riled, but today the snark to his own comments instead of him getting completely heated sent an even better thrill, if you could call it, down your spine. "hm, then it's not surprising you'd rather be up here with me, jaeger... and what makes me more tolerable today?"

eren let his eyes roll to the back of his head for a split second before deciding that the best response to that question would be no answer, lying wasn't healthy anyways.

"what? is it the fact that i started wearing dresses?" you mocked his earlier words, your hand flying up to create quotations in the air.

that was one reason.

"trying to get your little dick wet eren? that little blondie wasn't doing it for you, yeah?" you joked, but the way his eyebrow twitched and his eyes darkened, lowering as a very small smirk formed on his face told you maybe your joke was more than that to him.

he let out another small scoff, face turning away from you so his jawline was visible, the tiny brown hairs that wouldn't fit in his ponytail skimming his neck and forehead before he side eyed you, then turning his head back to you and not even noticing how he scooted forward as he brought his knee up for his arm to rest on. "little?" was all he could manage to get out. he wasn't gonna lie— your comments felt quicker today, and they were catching him a little off guard.

you flipped back onto your stomach before sliding your upper body and shuffling forward to sit back on your knees diagonal from eren. you weren't gonna lie— eren's comments felt quicker today, and they were catching you a little off guard. "did i lie?"

"yeah."

"i beg to differ."

eren's hand went to his thigh. even though his dick was on the other leg, semi-hard, he wanted to tease you with the leg closer, rubbing up and down the fabric of his jeans. "wanna see then?"

your eyes glanced down to his lap and widened, jesus— this was not the eren you knew, nor the eren you expected tonight. you let yourself fall backwards onto your pillows, grabbing one throw pillow and placing it over your face as you hid your true expression. although your voice was muffled you let out an "jaeger, stop! i'm supposed to hate you."

the bed dipped underneath you as eren shuffled forward until he was peering down at you again, grabbing the pillow with one hand, your hand flying up to grab his wrist, then his coming up to pry your fingers off him. after a small tussle he pinned your hand to the bed, grabbing the pillow and chucking it off the bed to see your face.

your lips were shriveled in an embarrassing smile and you turned your head away from eren, only then realizing the presence of his cold gold pendant tickling your chest, and how close he actually was, his thigh pressed up against your side, and his untucked hairs gravitating towards you. those green-blue eyes seemed even more intimidating up close, and the dangerous slight upturn of the corner of his lips didn't seem to help in you feeling small under him.

eren jaeger, an anomaly. who knew people could change right before your eyes.

"jaeger," you brought your other hand to his chest, pushing at his sternum with as much force as possible which didn't budge him, eren only grabbing your other hand with a low chuckle and placing it above your head, bringing both of your hands together and keeping them there with one wrist. you let out a soft whine of the word "move," that made eren's lip twitch before you brought your foot up to kick him.

"kick me and i swear, ______—" and so you did— well at least you tried, eren grabbing your ankle and holding your flailing limb. you guys looked insanely stupid, and it made your little whines turn into small laughs that seemed to be contagious as eren began to laugh too. your body went limp as you soon realized that eren was pretty strong, which the old eren wasn't.

he let go of your leg, dropping it to the bed on the other side of him so he was sitting between them. "i'll let go if you admit that you don't actually hate me." a small goofy grin was on his face and it made you reciprocate.

"nope," you popped the p, eren quirking his brow at you before letting his eyes wander down. he had you in quite a position; your legs on either side of him, your hands pinned together, and your dress scrunched up just enough so he could see the black underwear you adorned. you watched his eyes trail back up, stopping at your lips, his tongue sliding over his own before coming back up to your eyes. "but it's obvious you don't hate me."

eren let out a small laugh and your stomach churned— so did his. 

"nope," he popped his p just like you. "that's just some weird shit we were on when we were younger... you're not that bad." he hummed, leaning down a bit so he was hovering over your face, and god did he look amazing.

maybe he was right— maybe it was just one of those weird things that leave with age, and you were fine with it leaving, especially if it gave you the eren jaeger in front of you right now. your lips parted in effort for you to speak but you choked on your own words, not sure what to say. but you didn't have to say much because just like eren, you let your realization hit you on how he had you, how he looked, and your gaze stopped at his lips too. he took that as his cue— his face inching way too close, but not like you minded.

"the way you're looking at me doesn't seem like it, ______."

you squeezed your legs on his sides as you felt the fabric of his jeans rub against you from the proximity. "well, i—" he didn't let you finish his lips connecting with yours and you almost forget how to kiss for a moment, eren's lips being the only ones moving until he let go of your hands and you cradled his jaw, kissing him back just as fervently.

eren hummed against your lips in content, them beginning to move together as if the two of you were made for each other. something felt like it was lifted off your chest, and you really relished in the moment at hand. one of eren's hand coming up to your hair and pushing your head more towards him, the kiss becoming rougher while his other hand settled at your side gripping roughly as if you could run away any second.

you felt desperate, practically swallowing eren's lips up, him biting at your lip before pulling away for air. he looked down at you with a lustful expression, his lips parted and flushed red while his eyelids hung low. "finally, you shut up."

you looked up to the ceiling with a smile gracing your face. you didn't know if you were in shock at the fact that he could still throw quick comebacks after such an event or if you were in shock at what just happened. "you shut the fuck up— and come here," 

you lifted your head up to connect your lips back to eren's, your tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and he quickly got the hint, pushing you back down to the bed as he parted his lips so that your tongues could collide gently. the kiss was wet, and passionate, you could practically taste the lust that both of you were so oblivious about for years. you could taste how long he craved your lips on his and you almost wanted to apologize for leaving him waiting for so long.

eren's tongue licked around your mouth, doing all the work while you laid back and guided your tongue to follow his almost like a recited dance. his hips moved with yours, beginning to grind against you to relieve some of the ache in his dick, and he was glad you were wearing a dress. his hand on your hip grasped the black fabric and aggressively yanked it up, your hips lifting to help him out a little bit until your lower half was completely unveiled to him.

his mouth disconnected from yours so he could peer down at you. "fuck..." he muttered. his hand slid under your dress, smoothing over your stomach before nearing your breasts, looking back up to you as if to ask if what he was doing was fine. you gave him that confirmation and let your eyes drift close as his warm palm relaxed itself over your tit. the contact that his fingers made with you nipple as he moved his hand down to toy at it caused them to harden and you to whimper.

eren ducked down to your neck so he could kiss it, nibbling at the sensitive flesh which elicit your hand to fly to his messy brown locks. "yeah..." you sighed, elated with the feeling of him sucking at your skin, his tongue occasionally licking at the spot and his teeth grazing over it as well before he completely pulled off, hoping a distinctive hickey you would have trouble hiding from your mom would begin to appear sooner or later.

his hand slid back down to your side until it went over the curve of your back and trailed down your ass until it met your supple thighs. he grasped at your skin, the fat underneath his fingertips leaving his imagination to wonder what it would be like in between your thighs. he brought his other thumb to your plain black panties, pressing it against your clothed entrance just to get a feel and your head flew back so you were no longer watching him— eyebrows turning upwards and mouth parting as uneven breaths left you mouth.

you were so hot and bothered, you needed him now— any way you could take him.

"need you... right now, eren." you mumbled, your hand retreating between your dress to cup at your own breast.

eren looked up at you another smile playing on his lips, and he would be the death of you. "first name basis now that you want to be fucked by me?"

"oh my gosh, just hurry."

you brought your legs closer to your body as eren's hand came to the hem of the fabric that was the only thing separating you and him. he pulled it over your legs and down your feet tossing it to the side. when you didn't part your legs for him immediately he brought his hand to both of your knees and with some resistance parted them for you, the sight of your glistening cunt going straight to his dick.

you were so pretty to him, yet he didn't want to boost your ego any more so he held his tongue and untucked his lip from his teeth before stepping off the bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling your body to the edge of the bed.

your pussy fluttered as you watched eren fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. he stopped for a brief moment, groaning in annoyance before looking back to you. "i don't have a condom."

your hand flew to your forehead and you felt yourself squeeze around nothing at the thought of eren sliding into you without one. "you're clean right?"

eren scoffed. "yeah."

"okay well then hurry!" you repeated, eren going back to pulling his pants down until they were pooled at his ankles, as well as his boxers. his dick was finally exposed to you, and you stifled a moan when you saw it— pretty, hard, big and flushed red in anticipation for you not anyone else. he took himself into his hands and smeared his pre cum over his length while his head tilted back and his jaw dropped at the slight relief.

"this is about to be the best dick you've ever had." he half joked as he grabbed your hips and pressed at your entrance, leaning overtop of you again.

"we'll see about that, ja—" you couldn't even get the rest of your sentence out as you felt his tip slide more into you, a gasp leaving your throat, your walls clenching his tip causing him to let out a slight moan.

he stopped for a moment, bringing his hand up to steady himself on the bed. "eren, not jaeger."

he pushed in a little more, your hand flying over to your mouth muffling your, "eren!" which caused him to smirk. "shit... you—" a little more, your eyebrows coming together like his as he tried filling you up even more.

"me what?" he breathed out, pushing in a little more.

your back arched and your fingers came to wrap around his wrist beside your head for support. "it kind of hurts." you mewled out. of course you wouldn't tell eren this, but it had been awhile since the last time you had sex, prone to getting yourself off instead, and eren's size wasn't helping either.

"well..." he started, sheathing himself more inside you as your grip on his wrist tightened, and small pathetic half-whines left your throat. "you gotta take it." your eyes screwed even more shut as his words rang through your head. you were practically throbbing for him and you wanted this just as bad. "don't start something you can't finish." and with that the brunette let his length fill you up completely, ignoring your slight displeasure until he bottomed out, shushing you and letting his hand come down to rub circles on your clit to soothe you.

a sigh left your lips and your hand relaxed from eren's wrist. "okay."

"okay?"

"you can move." and eren wasted no time doing just that, his hips moving backwards and sliding against your walls causing you and him to groan at the same time.

when you were fully adjusted, and any discomfort you felt had drifted away, eren moved faster, almost fucking you how he wanted to in the first place. he lifted himself from the bed and put his hands on your hips, dragging you onto him as he pushed in and out of you, basking in your moans of pleasure and the feeling of your tight walls trying to consume him.

"yes," you said with gritted teeth as the way eren thrusted into you with purpose felt amazing and left you wondering why you didn't confess to your attraction to him sooner. "fuck, eren..." his hips stuttered from the way you sounded moaning his name. he wanted to hear it again, and again, wanted to hear it so many times that he could hear it when he fucked his fist to your pretty face. "like that, just like that."

"again." he demanded, and the low octave of his voice ordering you to repeat his name sent your head into a spiral. you grind against him, your wetness smearing on his abdomen. eren brought his hand to your hair again, pulling your body up off the bed and you winced at his tight grip as he continued to fuck up into you nicely. "i said again."

"eren," you repeated more like a plea. he pulled your head forward more, smashing his lips to yours again briefly, just wanting to feel more of you, wanting to feel you crave him.

"what do you want me to do?" he asked. he wanted you to tell him how bad you wanted him, how bad you wanted him to fuck you— and with the way his cock stretched you out so well, fucking into you with ease, like it's what he was made for, you were willing to do just that. "hm?"

"fuck me good, make me cum, eren, please."

"if i do you're gonna stop acting like a little brat when we're together right?"

"yes, yes, yes," you babbled not even realizing what he said that had you nodding your head hastily.

eren chuckled at the lack of hesitance in your response, softening his grip on your hair and letting your head fall back to the bed. "good girl." he murmured while slowing down his pace causing you to roll your hips into his as a silent plea to go faster. eren pushed your dress up some more until it was bunched up right to your chest, then having you pull off the straps to free your tits. he stepped out of his jeans and boxers, pushing you higher on the bed to create space for himself, not leaving you once, leaving your cunt fluttering around him as he did all these motions.

the little sad cries that would leave your lips begging him to hurry up so that he could fuck you again made you sound so stupid for him, so impatient and so dirty. eren didn't mind at all though, when he shifted himself up on your bed and pressed your legs to either side of your body so he could hit deeper, he complied with your wishes. "open your mouth." and you complied to his, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out, eren coming down to let his spit drop into your mouth, and the second his saliva came in contact with the muscle you squeezed his member from inside of you, he could feel you tighten around him and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you swallowed. he watched your throat bob before wrapping his hand around your neck to create leverage for himself.

when you felt him drag himself out and back into you so forcefully, your body jolting as he continued the motion, fucking down into you. he was drilling that soft spot inside of you, and he didn't stop you when your hand trailed down below his arm to touch yourself, rubbing at your swollen clit while he drilled you. "you're gonna cum?"

you were too incoherent to form words, the nods of your head telling him enough. he was on the verge of coming too, but he wanted you to come first, he wanted to feel you pulse around his throbbing cock, spill your slick all over him. "shit, then cum all over me, _____. right on my dick, let me feel it." you let out a sultry moan, eren letting go of your neck going to grasp one of your bouncing breast the other grasping your thigh and pounding into you hard while you got yourself off with your middle finger.

small cries spilled out of your lips as your orgasm slowly approached until it finally did, your vision blanking out, pussy squeezing eren impossibly tight, and every nerve being pinched in your body. your hand unconsciously flew to your blanket, gripping the fabric tight as you moaned a drawled out sound resembling eren's name. you felt like you were the only person alive, like the guests downstairs didn't exist, like your parents weren't just outside your window along with them, not even like eren was there when your climax washed over your body, blurring your senses.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah—" eren was having trouble holding back, but as soon as he felt your juices coat him, and the sound of his name from you he let go of your thighs and chest, pulling out of your wet heat and jerking himself to completion, hot cum spilling all over your lower stomach as to avoid your dress. "shit.." he panted, watching his seed sit idle on your pretty skin.

he felt hazy, almost in disbelief that he just fucked your lights out, almost quite literally as you hadn't opened your eyes since your orgasm.

eren took it upon himself to gather some of his cum with a swipe of his finger then prod at your swollen lips, you lazily opening your mouth to taste the salty taste of his cum. "good?" and you hummed, letting your head fall back to the blankets and closing your eyes.

eren tucked himself in, leaving to head towards your bathroom, and soon enough coming back to help you clean up. when you felt the warmth of something slide over your lower abdomen, you too out of it to open your eyes, you relaxed against the bed. eren adjusted your dress and slipped your underwear on for you, shaking your arm to wake you up. "your mom was out there. she was about to check on you when i walked out the bathroom. that would've been embarrassing."

you were too tired to respond, blinking at eren before picking yourself up and sitting up in front of him, his height allowing him to still be looking down at you even though you were on a bed. "i'm gonna head down cause i'll probably be leaving soon... i'll tell her you're sleep."

you nodded your head at eren before crawling to your bed and under the blankets, turning away from him. eren eyed you for a moment before coming forward and deciding to press a kiss to your ear, then grabbing his phone and slipping on his shoes. he grabbed the damp paper towel and threw it in your trash, shutting your lights and shutting the door quietly.

eren jaeger, an anomaly you thought you had figured out who happened not to be that bad after all.

maybe you did like eren— just a little bit.

[narutogwriting]

Ruin the Friendship

⋇✦ Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

⋇✦ Genre: angst; fluff; oneshot

⋇✦ CW: none

⋇✦ Length: 2.5k+

⋇✦ @gaarasandpit just a angst/fluff naruto x reader request if you’re up for it 🥰 maybe where the reader and him are somewhat close friends and he notices she’s drifting from him because her feelings get in the way? he’s oblivious and hurt about it then confrontation happens ending up in a good old love confession

“Cmon! Open up!” Naruto called from outside your house, pounding on the door like he had been incessantly for the past five minutes. “I know you’re in there!”

He did not, in fact, know whether or not you were in there, but he couldn’t imagine where else you would be.

All week you’d been missing; Naruto couldn’t find you anywhere. Sometimes he would see the flick of your hair from the corner of his eye or his ears would pick up the sound of your laugh, but by the time he turned to find you, you’d be gone.

Your absence in Naruto’s life wasn’t something of a minor inconvenience; it was a constant pain, as if he was missing a part of his own body. Iruka had joked that Naruto missing you was akin to that of a phantom limb, like there was something of him that should be there and it wasn’t and he ached because of it.

“No, Naruto. We haven’t seen her,” Shikamaru shrugged. Ino nodded her agreement.

“Sorry. Maybe she’s on a mission or something.

Naruto frowned, sighing in frustration. “Alright, well, thanks.” He muttered before he sulked off. Shikamaru and Ino watched him go, waiting until he disappeared before Ino gave you a kick under the table.

“Ow!” you whined as you crawled out from underneath, rubbing your shoulder.

Ino rolled her eyes at you. “You’re lucky Naruto’s an idiot, or he definitely would have seen you.” She told you as you slid yourself down into the seat next to her. “Remind me: why are you avoiding him again?”

Propping your elbows on the table, you rested your head in your hands as you gave a forlorn sigh. That was a loaded question. You were avoiding Naruto because the absolute worse thing that could ever occur had happened.

You’d fallen in love with the idiot blond.

And how could you not? You’d been best friends with Naruto for the longest time. He was a constant in your life, always at your side. It was rare that one of you was seen without the other.

There was no one in the entire world that could make you smile or laugh the way that he could. Whenever you were sad or hurt, he always had the words to make it all better. Naruto had the type of smile that could save people, and you were no exception. There wasn’t a person in the world that could meet someone with a heart like Naruto’s and not walk away changed.

It had been a slow thing, a soft, unsure growing. It wasn’t a feeling you’d recognized at all once, because you always loved Naruto.

It wasn’t totally strange for you to get excited when you saw him or miss him when he was gone. It wasn’t unusual to think about him before you went to sleep.

But when you began to wake up and your first thought was, “my god he’s beautiful” when you looked at the picture of the two of you on your night stand, that was a little strange. You never used to spend extra time in the morning doing your makeup when you knew you were going to see him soon.

And you never used to blush when he smiled at you. Even you could tell you laughed a little too hard when he said something even remotely funny.

It was one day when the two of you were taking a walk that it happened. He was telling you a story, his motions large and exaggerated. Of course, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. As he turned to you, arms raised high over his head, his foot hit a rock. Naruto went sprawling to the floor, rolling across the ground and landing flat on his back.

You burst out laughing at the scene, hurrying to kneel at his side. “Are you okay!?” You asked him between giggles.

Naruto’s face was bright red with embarrassment as he laid on the floor. He looked up at you, smiling sheepishly. “Oops…”

It was such a simple thing, but you’d looked at Naruto and thought, “I love him so much.”

Nothing had ever startled you more.

Of course you loved Naruto; that was a given. It was never anything that needed to be thought or said. It was just a fact. But as soon as you had thought the words, you knew that it was different this time. You didn’t just love Naruto.

You were in love with him.

You’d hoped that the feelings would fade. Maybe it was just a fluke or a passing crush. Day in and day out, you waited for your feelings to go back to normal, but now that you’d acknowledged them, they only seemed to grow stronger. It got to the point where you couldn’t even look at naruto without turning into a blushing mess. It was pathetic.

So you’d decided there was only one reasonable solution: you would have to avoid him for as long as it took for the feelings to go away.

And of course you didn’t want to stay away from him. Being with him was as natural as breathing. But the way you saw it, if he found out about your feelings, your friendship could be ruined forever. This way, you could take some space, move on, and resume your friendship like nothing happened.

But Naruto wasn’t making that easy.

You hadn’t realized just how much time you and Naruto spent together until you were trying to distance yourself from him. He was everywhere. Every meal, every free moment, he was by your side or trying to be at least.

“Wanna go eat?” “Wanna go train with me?” “Let’s watch a movie!” “I heard there’s gonna be a festival in the next town over!”

You couldn’t get away from him. So this past week, you’d taken to hiding from him every time you saw him, deciding it was easiest to just avoid him completely. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe just how much time and effort Naruto was putting in to trying to find you.

But of course he was putting in effort. Because you were his best friend and he couldn’t understand it; where you’d gone or why you weren’t talking to him. Had he done something wrong? Were you mad at him or something? Your absence in Naruto’s life was drawing out every insecurity he hadn’t even realized he still had. He was worried, drowning in anxiety.

What if you’d decided you didn’t want to be his friend anymore? Maybe you were annoyed with him, found him to be too much. When you and Naruto had first become friends, he thought it was too good to be true. There was no way that someone as nice and pretty and cool as you would want to be friends with him. No one had ever wanted to be his friend before.

But there you were with your sweet smile and calming presence. You had accepted Naruto, every piece of him, without question or reservation. You meant everything to him, so the thought of losing you had sent Naruto into a panic.

You’d managed to avoid Naruto for a full week and a half. The past three days, as far as you knew, he hadn’t even made an effort to find you. It was a relief and heartbreaking all at once. You needed your space, but it hurt to think that maybe Naruto didn’t miss you at all anymore.

These were the thoughts racing through your head when you crawled into bed that night. You doubted you’d be getting much sleep; you’d barely gotten any since you had started avoiding Naruto.

Pulling the covers over yourself, you closed your eyes and tried to get comfortable. It seemed like hours you laid there awake before tiredness finally started to drift over you. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off to sleep when a sudden loud noise startled you awake. Sitting up quickly, your eyes darted to the window where the noise had come from.

Naruto had forcefully pried open the window, shoving himself not-so-gracefully through the opening and crashing onto the floor.

He quickly jumped to his feet, rubbing his head with a small wince before his eyes landed on you, widening slightly.

“Ah ha! I got you!” He shouted victoriously, pointing his finger in your direction. “You can’t hide from me anymore, believe it!”

God, he was too cute for words and that was exactly the problem. Your heart practically burst just looking at him as he appeared so accomplished and excited.

But the triumphant look on his face slowly vanished as he stared at you. When he spoke, his voice came out quietly, dripping with dejection. “Where have you been?”

Quietness settled over the room as the two of you stared at each other. Naruto made no move to get closer to you, and you likewise stayed strapped in your seat. “I’m sorry…” You offered weakly, unsure of what else to say.

“Don’t be sorry!” Naruto snapped, anger quickly replacing his despaired features. “Tell me why! What the hell? You think you can just avoid a guy? Cut me off like I’m nothing to you!?” He was trembling, his usual happy grin twisted into a broken grimace so despondent it took you off guard. You had caused that hurt that Naruto was feeling. The thought made you sick.

“If you don’t want to be my friend anymore, at least say something!” Naruto spat. “Don’t just run from me like a coward! If you have something to say, say it to my face!”

There was a harsh edge to Naruto’s voice that he never used with you before. Not in all of your years of friendship. You realized suddenly just how badly you’d hurt Naruto by avoiding him. It wasn’t something you’d considered; you’d only wanted some space so you could get back to normal with him.

But you saw it clearly now, the damage that you had done. Suddenly, in this moment, he was the lonely, isolated child that he had been before you met, feeling alone and abandoned in the world. And this time, it was because of you.

The regret was like bile on your tongue, and you wished fiercely that you could take back the past week and do it differently. You couldn’t stand the thought that it was you who had caused this damage to your best friend, the guy you loved so much.

You didn’t have any words to fix it. All you had was the truth.

“I love you.”

The words slipped from your mouth before you could pull them back in. And once they were out, they couldn’t be taken back.

Confusion quickly settled on Naruto’s face. It was as if you could see the anger dissipate from his body. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape, while he tried to process what you’d just said. “You… What?”

Turning bright red, you pulled the blanket back over your head in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you’d just said that! Now there would never be any going back to the way that things were, but you had to tell him. You couldn’t just let him think that you were cutting him off without reason.

“I said I love you…” You muttered from under the blanket. “I’m in love with you, Naruto. I have been for a while now, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. So I thought if I just took some space and didn’t see you for a while, then maybe I would get over it, and then we could just keep things the way they were…”

It was much easier to get the words out when you were under the blanket and couldn’t see him, but you were still nauseous with anxiety as you told him how you felt. Your heart was steeling itself for rejection as you waited for his response.

The only noise was shuffling as Naruto came to your bed. You could feel the indent as he sat down next to you. He grabbed your blanket, slowly peeling it off of you and despite your reluctance, you let him.

You didn’t look at him as you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position. You’d never been so embarrassed before.

“Did it work?” He asked you quietly.

Fidgeting with the hem of your night shirt, you mumbled, “Did what work?”

“Are you over me?”

The question took you off guard, lingering between the two of you, and you couldn’t help but flicker your eyes to his. He was staring earnestly at you with those wide blue eyes you loved so much. You wanted to lie to him but you just couldn’t.

“No.”

Naruto’s focused expression stretched into a wide grin as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to him. You were too startled to respond, so you just stared at him, confused, instead.

“You scared me!” Naruto laughed happily as he rested his cheek against your head. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore! You didn’t have to completely avoid me, ya know.”

There was a mix of relief and disappointment at his reaction. So, he wasn’t weirded out about your confession? Things didn’t have to change. The two of you could stay ‘just friends.’

“So, we’re okay?” You asked him nervously. “We’re still friends?”

Naruto gave a puzzled hum as he pulled away from the hug to stare at you. He raised his eyebrow as he studied you for a moment. You could almost see the light bulb go off above his head as he realized.

“Oh!” He laughed, grinning sheepishly and rubbing his neck. “I guess I forgot to tell you it back, huh? I thought it was obvious! I love you too, believe it!”

You blinked as he giggled embarrassedly, that signature smile of his on his lips. “Naruto!” You snapped at him, lunging and knocking you both off the bed. He landed on his back with you on top of him as you rubbed your fist into his head. “You dummy!”

“Hey! Cut it out!” Naruto whined, squirming under your touch. “Is that any way to treat your boyfriend!?”

The question was enough to make you stop, your mouth frozen in a surprised “o” shape, just like he hoped. He laughed, sitting up and holding you to him before he placed a happy kiss to your cheek, making your face flush over red.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, looking at him as it finally sunk in what he said. He loved you too. He called himself your boyfriend. “Is that your way of asking me?” You questioned.

Naruto nodded earnestly. “And my way to get you to stop giving me a noogie! It’s a win win! Well, if you say yes, that is…”

Shaking your head, you laughed as your whole body softened in relief. Your arms slipped around his neck as you hugged him tightly. “Yes, obviously!” You told him. “Yes! I love you.” Naruto hugged you back just as fiercely. When he finally pulled away, he didn’t hesitate. His hand reached up to cup your cheek as he leaned forward, pressing a sweet, soft kiss to your lips.

Well, you guessed your friendship was officially ruined. But suddenly, you didn’t mind so much.

[theoreticslut]

Mutually Curious // g.w.

george weasley x reader

requested: for @anxiousblanketqueen’s bday wc

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ themes, mutual masturbation, slight dom/sub roles 

A/N: hey loves! I’ve been wanting to post this one for like a week and I just never got around to it because finals are seriously kicking my ass. I am so stressed and so tired and I just want it all to be over with. But i also really wanted to get this out before Jill’s bday on wednesday (you should totally check out her blog and participate in her bday sleepover 💗) ! Ideally, I wanted to get all the fics out for her bday wc before her bday, but alas that is not happening. Oh well, she’ll just get some late presents 😂💗 Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!! Xx

You truly enjoyed days like this - where you had nowhere to go or nothing to do. You could simply lay around all day and do whatever you pleased without feeling guilty that you were avoiding something else.

What made days like this even better is when they were spent with your best friend, George. You two had been inseparable since second year, ever since you got seated next to each other in Charms class.

Throughout the decade you’ve known each other, your friendship has evolved in some rather beautiful ways. It started with pulling pranks and just having fun in each other’s company. Then you guys started sharing secrets and deep late-night thoughts. Eventually, nothing was off-limits for the two of you to talk about.

You both were just so comfortable with the other that it wasn’t odd to share intimate details that you’d hesitate to tell others. You knew each other inside and out, ranging from the basics of favourite colours and foods, to the more advanced knowledge of deepest fears and wishes, all the way to the ultimate comfort level of knowing each other’s preferences and stories from the bedroom. You just felt completely at ease talking to George no matter what the topic was, and he reciprocated that ease.

You two never run out of things to talk about, though, as you’re always finding out more about yourselves, whether that’s a new kink you want to explore or a new fact you learned.

Today was no different. Without even thinking about it, you’re voicing a rather interesting segway question.

“You know what I’ve kind of always wanted to try?”

“What’s that, darling?” George asks, looking up at you as he’s laid down by your feet.

“Masturbating with someone.”

You can just barely hear him let out a groan before he’s humming out an answer.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I just wonder what it’d be like, you know, being intimate and vulnerable like that without necessarily touching the other. Not that you couldn’t touch the other, though.”

You watch as he seems to think about your statement for a couple seconds, nodding lightly.

“Yeah, it’d definitely be interesting. I mean, it’s fun to tease your partner that way - you know, not letting them touch themselves while you get yourself off - but I’ve never really thought about both people masturbating.”

“I don’t know what I’d think about it.” You admit.

“I feel like it could be embarrassing, but at the same time it really does sound like fun.”

Frowning in thought, you lean back to look at the ceiling. You can only imagine what it’d be like to masturbate with someone present. All of that attention on you, basically putting you in a spotlight. You’re not so sure about that.

“Why do you think it’d be embarrassing?” George frowns as he props himself up to look at you. He’s known you long enough now to know that you don’t get embarrassed very easily. Why would you find mutual masturbation embarrassing? It’s not like you would be the only one doing it.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking I might feel too exposed?” You sigh.

“Being naked in front of a guy, touching myself, having him watch? Like with sex at least his hands are on me so his attention is a bit divided. I’m not under his full gaze, you know?”

He hums, thinking about your words. He could understand how it could be uncomfortable to have a person’s undivided attention, but at the same time he thinks it sounds pretty great - having your attention solely on him as he strokes himself. And just the idea of getting to watch you pleasure yourself has him excited, his cock twitching happily in his trousers.

“We could always try it?” He offers, not hesitating to share his thought.

“What?” You ask, a bit incredulously, sitting up to look at him, meeting his gaze almost immediately.

“I mean, if you want to. It’s not like we haven’t talked about doing things with each other before, and we’d just be getting ourselves off. We wouldn’t have to touch each other if you didn’t want to.” He explains as he rubs at the back of his neck, clearing his throat as his cock grows at the idea of watching you squirm as you come undone in front of him.

You can’t help the little needy whine that escapes your lips, cheeks growing warm at the idea. You’ve only thought of George in bed with you at least a thousand times by now. There’s no way of stopping the thoughts of his cock and what it’d look and feel like from running through your head.

“And we’re already comfortable with each other, yeah? That could help you not feel so embarrassed.” he offers, hoping you agree. He’s only dreamt of you a thousand times by now, picturing what your body looks like and what your moans and whines sound like. It’s not uncommon for him to pop a boner at the thought of you. 

You nod, understanding his thoughts. Honestly, there’s no one else you could imagine trying this with. While you’re embarrassed at the idea of your best friend seeing you naked and so vulnerable, the idea excites you to no end. You already felt safe with him, so why try this with anyone else?

“What do you say, y/n? You want to try it?”

You nod, a small whimper falling from your lips as you do. You never thought that you’d ever actually do anything with George, but Merlin have you wanted to. That’s one of the only downfalls of being so close with george - you can’t help but get turned on and want to see how true his stories are when he shares them with you.

“Y-yeah. Do you?”

“Godric, yes.” He moans, nearly panting already as he never turns his attention from you. If you thought you got turned on by his stories, you should try paying attention to him more when you tell yours. He’s constantly hiding an erection and trying to not pounce on you and make you his.

“O-okay.” You smile, already blushing as you gently chewing on your bottom lip as you figure out what to do first.

You figure that you should probably both undress first, so you cautiously grab the hem of your shirt, his eyes trained on you as he sits up.

Smiling and gently biting on your bottom lip, you slowly lift up the material to reveal your simple black bra to him, not able to stop the soft giggles from your lips as he groans.

“We’ve barely started and you’re already teasing me?”

“Not teasing you yet, Georgie. I’m just undressing.” You smirk, removing your shirt from your body.

He moans, eyes roaming over your exposed skin. Sure he’s seen your skin before while you wear shorter clothes in the summer, but watching you undress in this context for him is something he just can’t get over. He knows he’s not the first person to see your body, but that doesn’t matter when he’s the one who gets to see it right now.

“You’re so beautiful, darling. You know that, don’t you?”

You smile, a blush on your cheeks as you take in his words. You’ve been told by a number of people that you’re beautiful, but hearing it from George’s lips is otherworldly. It feels so much more sincere and intimate coming from him.

George smiles, watching as you melt at his words. He’s loving how absolutely adorable you currently look with a blush on your cheeks half undressed for him.

“Keep undressing, baby. I want to see you.” He urges, leaning back a little to spread his legs.

“Aren’t you going to?”

“Eventually, I promise. I want you to show me your beautiful body first. Can you do that for me, baby?” He asks, trying his best to contain a groan. Seeing you so vulnerable and pouty is more attractive than he would have thought.

You nod, smiling as you watch his eyelids droop in pleasure, a low moan passing through his lips.

You slowly untie the drawstrings on your sweatpants, smirking as his eyes follow every movement of your hands.

Carefully, you trail your hands over your body on top of your bottoms, enjoying the needy whimper that leaves George’s mouth. You grab at your inner thighs, purposefully avoiding your sex, loving the way that George is squirming in his spot.

Smirking, you slip your hands under the waistband of your pants, finally pulling them off your legs.

“Fuck, darling.” George groans, head lolling backwards.

He can’t help the grunt that leaves his lips at the soft giggles rising from your chest. He’s trying his best to behave, but all he wants is to take control of you.

“Georgie, you’re not watching.” You giggle, teasingly pulling the straps of your bra down off your shoulders.

“You’re being a tease, darling.”

“I would never, Georgie.” You smirk, loving the way his eyes darken at the sight of your bra straps hanging around your arms.

“No one likes a liar, y/n. Behave, angel, or maybe I’ll just leave you to get yourself off in front of me. Won’t let you see me.”

You whine, thighs clenching together at his threat as a pout forms on your puffy lips. George had mentioned he was pretty dominate, but you never expected it to be so hot, nor could you ever truly picture it. 

“No. George, please don’t. I’m being a good girl. I promise.”

Whining at his dark chuckle, you watch as he situates himself a bit on the bed.

“Show me then. Show me how good you’re being.”

You nod, unclipping your bra and tossing it across the room. You grope at your breasts, a moan falling from your lips at the pure pleasure of it.

You hate to admit it, but from the moment george offered to try this, you had gotten extraordinarily aroused. You needed relief and you were finally getting some from your touch against your breasts.

“Such pretty tits, baby.” He praises, eyes glued to your chest and the way you wriggle under your own ministrations.

“Why don’t you take one of your hands, angel, and touch yourself through your panties? I bet your wet already, yeah?”

You whine, trailing your right hand down your body to the waistband of your panties, teasing it gently. You slide your pointer finger just under the band, enough to lift it from your skin and send shivers throughout your body, before you let it softly snap against your body.

“You like teasing yourself, darling?” George asks, restraining from touching you himself.

He just wants to see how wet you are. The idea of a wet spot growing on your panties while you rub yourself has him nearly wild.

You smirk, chewing on your bottom lip as you start to touch yourself, your fingers against your heat feeling amazing.

“Oh, George. Feels so good.” You moan, eyes shutting and head falling back against the pillows.

“I bet it does, darling. I bet you want to finger yourself right now, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, George. I do.”

“Well wait a minute now, okay? You want to watch me undress, yeah?”

You nod lazily, trying your hardest to prop your head back up through your initial wave of pleasure.

He smiles, loving your blissed out face already as he lifts off his shirt. He smirks as he hears you hum in admiration.

Once off, he tosses it onto the floor and turns his attention back to you. He can’t help but chuckle as he watches your eyes trail over his torso. He knows he’s fit, having played quidditch for years, but having you admire his body has his ego rapidly inflating.

He carefully undoes the button on his jeans, slowly undoing the zipper and watching as you watch his every move.

He groans as he notices you slowly start rubbing your fingers over your pussy through your panties.

“So pretty for me, darling. Touching yourself while I undress. You’re so pretty, but you’re needy, yeah? Can’t even wait ‘til I’m out of my trousers.”

He smirks at the whine that leaves your lips, watching as your fingers slow down and you squeeze your legs together.

“M sorry, Georgie.”

“Don’t apologize, darling. I like how needy you are.” He smiles, watching you with pure adoration.

You blush at his words, unaware that he’s watching you intently as you watch his hands.

You whine as he slowly pulls off his pants, his boxers coming right along with them. You nearly drool as you watch his cock spring free from their constraints, and the groan that leaves George’s lips alongside it is pure heaven.

“Can you take off your panties, baby girl? Please?”

You nod, carefully hooking your fingers under the material on each of your hips, before swiftly sliding them down your legs, leaving you bare in front of your best friend.

“Godric you’re so pretty. Knew you would be, but bloody hell, darling.”

You blush, a whine slipping past your lips as he chuckles, grabbing the base of his cock.

“Fuck, baby. Show me how you make yourself feel good.”

You start at your chest again, softly groping each of your breasts and rolling your nipples between your fingers. You sigh gently at the feeling, registering George’s heavy panting across from you.

You carefully open your eyes to look at him, finding it difficult due to the pleasure coursing through your body.

You watch as he slowly strokes his cock, rubbing his thumb over the slit for a second or so whenever he reaches the top. Moaning softly at the sight, you slowly start trailing your hand down your body towards your sex.

Bucking against your hand as you reach your clit, you listen as George hisses, drawing your attention to him.

You watch as he grips his cock a bit tighter, his eyes closing gently in pleasure, falling backwards.

“You look so handsome, Georgie. Love when you throw your head back.” You giggle, loving the groan that leaves him and the small smile that forms on his face.

“You’ll be the death of me, y/n. The absolute death of me.” He smiles, watching as you blush and close your eyes gently while you play with your clit. This feels so much better than you could have imagined, your pussy already so wet and fluttering for george.

“Oh, George!” You gasp as you slip your middle finger past your folds, not thinking much about your actions anymore. whatever felt good is what you were doing.

“Ohhh, feels so good.” You mumble, starting to finger yourself as George watches intently, throat going dry. He wants nothing more than to take over for you, to finger you himself and to maybe get a taste. It’s taking everything in him to hold back, wanting to watch you pleasure yourself.

He watches as your fingers speed up, drawing you closer and closer to your release, moans and whimpers falling freely from your lips.

Before either of you truly realize it, you’re gasping as you come undone in front of him. You can feel your wetness seeping out of your cunt as the haze of pleasure slowly clears from your mind.

“That was so hot, baby.” George states, mouth softly closing as he watches you come to, his cock throbbing as he’s close to release himself just from watching you. 

“Oh, George. Y-you haven’t cum.” You pout, looking over his face as he scoffs.

“I don’t care, darling. Seeing you come undone was more than enough.”

“But-“

“C-can I touch you? I want to finger you, baby. Please?” He asks, cutting you off from whatever argument you were going to give.

“You want to finger me?” You ask, a little surprised at his bluntness.

George nods enthusiastically, practically drooling at the idea. He can just imagine how warm and soft you must feel.

“C-can I touch you?”

“Merlin, please. Yes, y/n. Please touch me.” He begs, finding it hard to wait for your answer.

“Okay then. Go ahead, Georgie.” You blush, biting on your bottom lip as he practically pounces on you, fingers quickly finding your folds and running through them.

You jolt at the sudden friction, your previous orgasm having left you more sensitive than you realized.

“Hold on, George.” You gasp, grabbing a hold of his wrist to stop his ministrations.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“Didn’t do anything wrong, baby boy, I’m just sensitive. Need you to give me a second.” You explain, trying to catch your breath.

He nods, breath catching in his throat at the pet name. He’s had women be more dominant with him, but none have ever called him that. He never realized just how nice it could sound, but he’s sure it only sounds so nice because you spoke it. Regardless, he wants to hear you say it again.

“Okay, Georgie. Start gentle, please.”

“Like this?” He asks, his fingers barely touching you as he circles your entrance, occasionally dancing up to play with your clit.

“Just like that. Feels so good, baby. You can add a little more pressure if you want.”

You gasp, nodding as he increases the pressure in which he touches you.

“So good, Georgie.” You sigh, slowly reaching out for his cock between the two of you.

“C-can you call me that again?” He asks a bit bashfully, shivering as you faintly circle his tip with your finger.

“Call you what?”

“B-aby boy.” He gasps, your hand grasping around him tighter.

“Oh? You like that name, do you? Like being called baby boy?” You giggle, stroking his cock slowly.

“Yes.” He groans, bucking into your hand.

“Alright, Georgie, baby. You’re doing so good, but you can speed up now if you’d like to baby boy.”

He nods, finally taking control of your pleasure now that he knows you’re okay. He sighs as he can smell, and practically taste you, wanting more than anything to do so.

You quicken your movements on his cock as you feel yourself clench around his fingers. You want, more than anything, to make sure he gets to cum this time around.

“So close, Georgie. I want you to cum with me, baby boy. You think you can do that?”

He nods, bucking once again into your hand as you swipe your thumb over his slit, spreading his pearly precum around.

You can feel him twitch as you smirk, moaning as he leans up to start kissing at your neck.

“George.” You whine, eyes closing at how amazing his lips feel on you.

“Yes, darling?” He smirks.

“Who’s the tease here, now?” You pant, squeezing at his cock as you stroke him, loving as he shivers in pleasure.

“I th-ink it’s still you, baby.” He smirks, nipping at your neck.

“If you’re going to kiss me, can it at least be my lips?” You pout, wanting to kiss him so bad. You’ve always wondered what his lips would feel like against yours.

He chuckles, leaning up a bit further to capture your lips with his, both of you moaning at the sensation.

You can feel him twitch against you as you clench around his fingers, both of you close, but you had a feeling George was closer.

Sighing into the kiss, you squeeze your hand around the base of his cock, gently tracing the outline of his balls as he jolts.

“Fuck!” He groans as he cums, spilling his warm seed onto your thigh as you clench around him again, so close to cumming a second time.

“I’m so close, Georgie. Don’t stop, baby, please.” You beg, still slowly stroking him to milk his release.

With his eyes shut tight, he curls the two fingers inside you, perfectly hitting where you needed him to to send you over the edge.

“Yes, George!” You gasp, coming undone on his fingers.

He groans, eye shooting open although they’re heavy with his own pleasure. There’s no way he’s going to miss watching you cum around his fingers.

“So...pretty. So pretty, angel.” He mumbles, completely blissed out from his own release and then watching yours.

He sighs as he gently removes his fingers from your sex, groaning as he stuffs them into his mouth.

You both lay there for a few minutes, him laying practically on top of you as you both regain your energy and catch your breaths.

He’s the first to look up at you, admiring the post-coital state you’re in - happily playing with his hair and thinking with a soft smile fixed on your lips.

“So? What did you think?” He murmurs, watching you for your reaction.

You smile as you look down at his face, taking in how tired he looks.

“It was amazing, George. Something I’d definitely be willing to do again.”

“Yeah? I’m glad. I’m thinking next time we go all the way? What do you think?”

“All the way?” You ask him, quirking a brow in amusement.

“After you taste me, we get to see how my dick feels inside you.”

“Oh, so you just want to fuck now, yeah?” You laugh, pausing your hand in his hair as he chuckles, burying his face into your neck in slight embarrassment.

“Well, I’d kind of like to take you out on a date and ask you out if that’d be okay?” he smiles, muffled by your neck as he presses hot kisses to the skin.

“Oh yeah?” You tease, smiling just as he nips at your neck, sending a shiver throughout your body.

“Definitely. Best friends is wonderful, but I think we both know we want more, yeah?” He smiles, watching as you chuckle, a small blush taking over your cheeks.

“Just took us messing around to actually admit it.” He adds.

“Admit what now, Georgie?”

“That I want to be with you, as your boyfriend and maybe more someday. That I love you and always have.” He smiles cheekily, leaning up to kiss you as you giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away.

“I love you.” You smile, absentmindedly picking up where you left off in playing with his hair.

You both lay in a comfortable silence for a minute or so, basking in each others love and body heat. You never expected your day to turn out like this, but you were glad it did. 

“Thank you for trying this with me, but I agree, next time we go all the way.” 

George chuckles at your words, a smile on his face as he presses a sweet kiss to your lips, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you in close to him for a short nap.

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