#I feel like people miss when I made him slutty and um | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meltwonu · 3 years

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| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | [Chapter 2]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, some soft ‘woo too, restraints, panties as a gag, dirty talk, degradation, name calling, oral(fem receiving), cum eating, sir!kink. My god it has been a week, a WEEK i tell you 🥲 Ldfkjdf I hope the lot of you are taking a big deep breath this weekend and doing something to relax or doing some self care cuz baby we all need it!💕 Treat yourself to something good! Take that nap! Buy that album! Get that coffee! I’ll try to bust out some thirst posts this weekend(i think we all deserve some, eh?🥴) should tumb1r not hate my blog and as usual, inbox round up tomorrow! 💕💕 For now, de-stress with ch 2 of UIMY, and have a great weekend! I love you!! 💕💕💕💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - x - x - x

You only get about 4 hours of sleep, if you’re being honest.

You won’t tell when asked because quite frankly, you’re a little embarrassed at how giddy you are to see Wonwoo today. You eagerly attend your morning class - panties already wet and mouth watering with the fantasies playing out in your head throughout the entire lecture.

“Hey, study buddy!”

Minghao slings an arm around your shoulder just as you turn to make a beeline towards the library, almost directing you into a different direction. “Where you headed off to? You wanna grab lunch?” Shit.

In the time that Wonwoo was gone, you’d spent a lot of time hanging out with other people trying to fill in the gap where, normally, you’d be spending underneath Wonwoo.

“I, um…” Going to get lunch with Minghao was one of the things that had become a normal thing after your morning classes and you hadn’t had the chance to tell him that your ‘usual’ schedule was back. “I--I’m gonna go study at the library for a bit! I’m really sorry! Can we go another day?” You pout at him which quickly melts off of your face when he shoots you a knowing smile.

“Gonna go ‘study’ Wonwoo-hyung, huh?”

Minghao lets you go - telling you to let him know when you weren’t busy.

You all but tear the front door open once you reach the familiar library; sheepish smile when it makes more noise than you anticipate.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you to pay the price of breaking the door.”

Wonwoo smirks at you from behind the receptionist table; familiar and warm when you step closer to the counter. “Maybe I do? What do you know?” You quip back, cheeks warm and head fuzzy at the sight of Wonwoo back in his usual sweater vest and slacks.

He leans in closer to you over the countertop, gesturing to you to lean in close as well. His lips ghost across the shell of your ear as goosebumps rise on your skin and shivers roll down your spine and the familiar thrum of arousal pours over your body.

“I know you were probably thinking about me all morning, sweetheart. Thinking of all the things I’d do to you.” Wonwoo chuckles under his breath, “Your panties are probably already soaked, hmm? Like my good little slut always ready to take my cock.”

His filthy, whispered words are enough for you to whimper quietly - eyes downcast as you only lean in closer. “Y-yes… Wonwoo, p-please, I--”

Wonwoo leans away from you and you find yourself letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“You’ll have to wait. I need to file these late slips and sort these books.”

There’s a teasing smile on his face as he watches your lips part in shock. “But you can do that, right? Be patient?”

No.

“I--y-yes...”

You pick a table far from the others as you watch Wonwoo roll the cart with books into another row of bookshelves.

It felt a little odd to you now that you thought about it - waiting so patiently for Wonwoo when you were used to him caging you in against a bookshelf with his fingers knuckle deep inside of your cunt or even just tugging you straight away into an empty study room on days when neither of you could wait to get your clothes off.

There was a certain softness that he seemed to show with you now; one that you appreciated and made you feel things that you’d never felt in any relationship before.

Wonwoo would admit he wasn’t always good with showing his emotions with other people.

“He only shows it sometimes,” Jeonghan had said, “Usually to his hyungs and usually when he wants something.”

Which was true.

He struggled with letting his guard down and a lot of the time felt shy about voicing his emotions.

But with you, he felt differently. He wanted to show you that he was capable of letting his guard down and capable of showing you the affection and care that you deserved - even if the relationship the two of you had started was only physical at first. The time away from you only proved to him that he definitely cared about you more than he had initially thought too.

While his semester abroad was entertaining and educational, he found himself thinking about you often in the midst of his excavations and lectures. Wondering about what you were doing and who you were with; if you really thought about him as often as you had messaged him so.

“Um, excuse me?”

“O-oh, huh?”

He’s pulled from his thoughts just as another student steps in front of him in the aisle of books. “Sorry, I don’t remember where this book is from. Is it okay if I just give it to you?”

“Sure.”

It takes twenty more minutes of you pretending to study before Wonwoo’s legs step into your periphery.

You open your mouth to speak but Wonwoo is quicker.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but I need to speak to you regarding some books you failed to return.”

You try to hide the wide smile on your face when Wonwoo leads you down the familiar, lonesome side of the library.

“I’ll have you step into this room, miss.”

“Wonwoo, there’s literally nobody here…” Chuckling, you step into the empty, cleaned room that Wonwoo had painstakingly made sure was dusted before you came. “Unless we’re roleplaying, ‘cause then, I’m sorry, sir…”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him before easily walking you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the desk.

“You should be sorry, sweetheart. First, slamming the doors earlier and now overdue books? Tsk, when will you learn.” He easily slips into character, fingertips already ghosting against the exposed skin of your thighs before playing with the hem of your short skirt.

“How are you going to pay back what you owe, hmm? The damages might be irreparable.” He drags his hand up and under the flimsy material; appreciating the way your legs part a little more for him. A quiet moan floats past your lips just as his fingertips press gently into the growing wet patch of your panties.

“Already wet, too? Why exactly is that, sweetheart?”

“A-ah, ‘c-cause I want--want you to fuck me, s-sir… Been thinking a-about it all day… Just--just like you said...” You clench around emptiness, already impatient now that he had his hands on you.

“You have, huh? I bet you played with yourself last night, didn’t you? Fingered your slutty ‘lil hole and filled it up with a toy just to prep yourself for me.”

“Y-yes, sir…” Your guilty eyes avoid Wonwoo’s stern gaze, “I’m s-sorry… I--I couldn’t, ah, wait... Just t-talking to you, yesterday, I....”

Wonwoo’s fingers press hard against you, immediately rubbing your clit through your soaked panties as you mewl and lean into his warm chest.

“P-please… punish m-me…”

You can only whine around the fabric stuffed in your mouth; hands tied behind your back with Wonwoo’s belt keeping them bound.

Your body jerks against the small desk as Wonwoo fucks you from behind in the small enclosed space you were used to and a certain warmth pours over you knowing that nothing really had changed since he’d left.

“Shit, I really missed cumming inside your tight lil’ pussy and making you walk home with my cum dripping down your legs.” There’s a soft chuckle under his breath; cock curving right into your g-spot as you whine and squirm underneath him.

“Bet you missed it too, huh? Getting home and fingering your filthy ‘lil cunt, fucking my cum deeper inside of you ‘cause you couldn’t get enough of me. Fuck, and when you’d send me pictures of your cute ‘lil fingers covered in my cum…”

Wonwoo smirks at your back, placing a hand on your bound arms as he uses it for leverage to fuck you deeper and harder.

“I’m back for good now though, sweetheart. Let’s see what else your cute cock starved body can take.”

You can only moan back in return - spit soaking into the wet fabric in your mouth as Wonwoo only fucks you harder. “God, your cunt is so fuckin’ perfect. Made to take my cock.” When you clamp down onto his cock tighter is when Wonwoo realizes he misses hearing your voice - chuckling softly as he leans over your trembling body.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson, huh, sweetheart?”

He reaches around, tugging the soaking material from between your lips and placing it next to your head before he straightens back up. “Ngh… I, ah, s-sir…” You turn your head to the side, watching the wall as your body jerks atop the desk. “P-please… I--I wanna see y-you, hah, when y-your fuh--fuck me…”

A soft blush coats Wonwoo’s cheeks as he halts his movements.

He clears his throat, pulling his cock out of you before stepping back and giving you space to readjust yourself. And with your arms still bound, you struggle slightly but manage.

This time, you sit atop the desk, spreading your legs wide for Wonwoo who licks his lips at the sight of your slightly mussed hair, blown out pupils and soaked cunt.

“That’s my good ‘lil slut.”

He positions himself between your legs, wrapping a hand around his cock and rubbing the head on your sensitive clit as you whimper. He circles the nub with the head of his cock, teasing you and himself as you squirm. “I take it you’ll be at the party tomorrow night, right?” His question catches you slightly off guard as you nod shakily.

“Good. ‘Cause I got you a present that I want to give to you tomorrow.”

“O-okay…”

Wonwoo sinks his cock back into you; cock curving into you perfectly as you cry out in return. “O-oh, god, s-sir--Wonwoo, I--fuck…” A choked sob bubbles up your throat at the feeling of him starting a harsh and quick pace, just how you liked it. “Mmh, my t-toys don’t feel as, hah, g-good as you… Fuck, you feel s-so good inside me…”

You wrap your legs around his waist, digging your heels into the small of his back to push him in closer to yourself. “Use m-me like I’m your little cumslut...” The desperation sets in; tears freely falling from your eyes as the urge to cum on his cock becomes unbearable from the hellish months without him.

“Please, p-please… Harder, fuck me harder! I n-need it!”

He grins, knowing just how you felt but keeping his composure as he doubles his pace. “So fuckin’ desperate for me, sweetheart. You sound so pretty begging for me. Is that what you sounded like when you were touching yourself too? Begging for me all night long?”

“Y-yes, fuck! Ngh, fucking my ‘lil holes with my t-toys all night j-just to be satisfied… Oh, god, Wonwoo!”

You can’t stop yourself from cumming - toes curling and thighs shaking as your walls flutter around his cock. Wonwoo only fucks you harder as soft growls fall from his own lips.

“Fuck, I missed this, missed you. Missed your tight ‘lil cunt cumming around my cock, sweetheart.” He mumbles soft praises to you, although you can barely hear it in the midst of your orgasm; ears ringing and head feeling hazy at the intensity.

Wonwoo fares no better - cock throbbing inside your warm walls as his orgasm hits him hard only after a few more quick snaps of his hips.

Your bound arms behind you do little to keep your tired body upright atop the table but you do your best as he rides out his high. “Mmh, I can feel y-you cumming inside me… Fuck, it feels soooo gooood.” Drool pools in your mouth at the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you for the first time in months and you mentally tell yourself to never let Wonwoo disappear for that long of time ever again.

“Ah, I feel so f-full…” Whining, you squirm as he continues to thrust into you, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy as you throw your head back at the fullness and wetness you feel. “Oh… Wonwoo…”

He lets out a deep breath before he slowly starts to pull out of you - cock covered in his cum and your wetness as he watches his cum drip from your spent hole. You slowly unhook your quivering thighs from around his waist as he steps back slightly.

“I--oh--”

You watch as he drops down to his knees, face right in front of your dripping cunt before he leans in.

“Oh, Wonwoo--” His tongue peeks out, lapping at your soaked folds before he drags it down and starts licking up the cum. “Fuck, oh, fuck…!”

Wonwoo dips his tongue into your hole, teasing you as your legs tremble and you try your hardest to not clamp your thighs around his head between your legs. You start to fight your restraints; fingertips wanting to thread through his hair as you grind against his skilled tongue.

He licks up more of the cum before dragging his tongue up to your overly sensitive clit; rubbing soft, slow circles on the nub until you’re a whining mess above him.

“A-ah, I--I can’t, mmh, ‘m too sen--sensitive, sir…”

He takes his as his cue to stand from his position, standing quietly before leaning over you. He threads a hand through your hair, tilting your head up and kissing you on the lips as you melt into his gentle touch.

Your eyes flutter shut at his soft kiss, lips parting slightly for him as he uses his tongue to push cum into your waiting mouth.

The kiss turns hot and heavy as he moves the salty, sticky substance from his mouth to yours - lips covered in a combination of your wetness and his cum when he pulls away.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart.”

When the two of you are somewhat cleaned up and ready to leave, Wonwoo stops you before you can get your hand on the doorknob.

“Hey, you okay?”

You shoot him a confused look, head tilted slightly at the bespectacled male that only looks mildly disheveled. “Um… y-yeah? Why?” His hand on your wrist makes your heart do backflips in your chest as he looks you over once more.

“I should’ve had some water for you and done proper aftercare since it’s been a while. I might've hurt you? Are your wrists okay? I can--”

“Whoa, hey, slow down! You’re, like, freaking out, ‘Woo.”

A pale blush coats his cheeks, “Sorry, I’m just trying to… be more… Expressive? I don’t know. It’s been a while. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He laughs lightly, somewhat embarrassed himself. “I don’t want to be weird but, y’know. I want to take care of you properly, sweetheart.”

“I--yeah, I understand! But I’m fine, I promise!” You beam up at him - happiness evident in your eyes and your smile. “Thank you… for making an effort, Wonwoo.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

#fratboy!wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #wonwoo #wonwoo fic #jeon wonwoo #uimy_meltwonu #svt fic

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moxfirefly · 3 years

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55. "Does it hurt? Tell me to stop if it hurts."

With, hmm, Mikey and a (top-)male-reader? Oops, guess you’ll have to shit some bricks then...😏

Also? If you could somehow include slutty mikey, then *chef’s kiss* perfecto. But if not, that’s fine. Do what you think is right 😊

My. Time. Has. Come.

Friend thank you! My first male-reader request! I’m so excited and I can so do this.

The second Michelangelo feels teeth bite down his neck he knows whatever nervous feelings he had just slip away.

Your tongue laps the bite, the flesh is a little harder so it’s not possible to do the damage you might want to do. Because the idea of marking up Mikey makes your cock stir. You’d have to get a little more creative then, so you kissed your way down his plastron, enjoying the way his fingers dug into your hair. At the hem of his underwear you smirked up at him, trying to hide your chuckle when Mikey vigorously nodded his consent.

How the two of you ended up like this was still beyond Mikey, well to a certain extent. You had come over, he had suggested video games, things did get competitive and around there was where the missing footage sign blinked. Mikey hadn’t really thought that kissing a guy would be this exciting. Sure he’d had his fare share of self discovery when it came to his sexuality, he knew he just liked pretty people.

And boy were you fucking pretty.

Needless to say, having sex with a close friend who also happened to be a guy wasn’t really on his list of To Do’s on this Wednesday afternoon. He sure as hell wasn’t complaining though.

Underwear casted aside, you chucked your own as well. Mikey’s eyes were glued to your body, taking in details he didn’t think would make him so, well horny. He liked you, he really liked what he saw and as your ego inflated just so, you felt yourself being pulled closer into another heated kiss.

Mikey found himself enjoying the scratch of your scruff, the softness of your body against his much harder one, the groan that left your throat and disappeared down his own. Much to his regret you ended this kiss with a soft tug of his bottom lip.

“Do you want me to bottom?” You asked by pressing your lower halves together.

Mikey wasn’t sure if he could make words, much less answer that question. Needless he had to and a little shameful part of him that overthought everything wasn’t sure how you’d take his request.

“Um... is it like cool if, well, you could maybe... be the top?” His eyes had to preoccupy themselves with something that wasn’t your face, regardless of it being a pretty face he could barely stop looking at.

You smirked, hand cupping his chin to make him look at you. “Ask me the right way” You whispered against his lips, enjoying how his bottom lip trembled ever so lightly.

Swallowing, Mikey gripped your sides and pressed his lips to yours. “Please, fuck me” Came his needy reply, it instantly made your skin break out in goosebumps. With another tongue twisting kiss you told him to give you a second to grab a small bottle of lube out of your bag. Mikey took the opportunity to breath, to look up at the ceiling of his bunk bed and somehow align his thoughts.

The liquid cool he felt at his hole startled him, apologizing you kissed that pretty heart shaped mark on his plastron. “It’ll heat up, I promise” Slowly and gently you worked a finger inside, enjoying even more how Mikey’s legs spread to give you more room. He’d actually done this to himself several times, the sensation was pleasant but something about having somebody else doing it just made it all the more exciting. Almost by muscle memory he snaked a hand towards his hard cock and gripped it, a tempting pump making him moan. The hand not stretching him gripped his wrist. “Don’t want the show over before it starts, yeah?” It was a tempting sight, one you’ve gladly let continue but your aching cock said other wise.

Mike was tight, mostly being the nerves he assumed. “Easy, relax a little bit” Your free hand drew circles on the back of his thigh. Mikey felt his mouth go dry but he nodded, hands resting on your shoulders as you guided yourself into him. That initial burn was something he would commit into memory, the image of your lust ridden face even more so. “Fuck Mikey...” You mouth hung open, angling yourself a little more to slowly continue to push more of your length into him. Lifting his hips a little more, leg swung over your thigh, Mikey helped to better accommodate you. By no means exactly experienced, he at least knew from personal investigating how exactly he liked to be situated for this.

Maybe if his shyness didn’t creep up on him he could show you just how flexible he was.

Right around that thought Mikey felt you bottom out inside of him, the feeling making him shut his eyes and dig his nails onto your back. This somehow felt different, a really good different and with the way Mikey’s cock steadily leaked precum you knew you wanted drive into him wildly.

The first few thrusts made your eyes flutter shut, the way his heat felt around you was enough to make you moan. Mikey’s hands slid to your rear, gripping flesh with a lengthy churr. The sound startled you, your hips reducing to a slow languid pace. “Does it hurt? Tell me to stop if it hurts” You asked, surprisingly feeling breathless by just a few thrusts. Mikey shook his head, nudging you forward by the grip he had on your rear. “No no don’t stop, fuck me please!”He whined, arching his hips to get more friction.

Oh, who were you to deny him such a request?

“Say it again for me baby” Your hips picked up again, thrusting into him in ascending speed. Each hit making Mikey moan, those baby blues of his none existent with how dilated his pupils were. “Fuck me, god just use me like some cock sleeve” In a more alert state he would’ve flushed crazy, those types of words were reserved more for his fantasies.

“Use you? Fill you up? That what you want baby boy?” You drove into him harder, skin slapping skin. Gripping the back of his knees you pushed his legs up to better angle your thrust and it only proved more to his desire. “Yes! Fill me-fuck-up!” At some point he was gonna remember this later but right now, right now as you drove into him with feverish slams, he was ready to spill his longing.

You leaned down, the friction of your moving bodies making Mikey’s cock twitch. You kissed him, sloppily enough to capture his moans. Muscles strained, sweat broke out over your body. “Ha- Harder” He groaned against your lips, teeth biting down gently. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you harder?” You grunted out your words, capturing his lips in one last feverish kiss. Leaning back you set your knees on the bed just how you needed to slam into him in quick short thrusts. Mikey felt his brain short circuit, something inside of him snapping and making him reach for his stiff leaking length. The sight alone had you grunted, each time you drove into him you knew you weren’t to last much longer.

It wasn’t long before he tensed up, pumping erratically and cumin with a long churr. Each spurt shooting onto his plastron, a few ropes managing to hit his chin. You felt your hips stutter, nails digging onto his thighs as your own release hit. Now that was a sensation Mikey didn’t expect to enjoy as much as he had fantasized about it, the way you filled him up with so much warmth. When the ability to form a thought managed to find its way back into your brain, you admired the mess Mikey was, all hard breathing and satisfied. You ran a thumb across his stained chin, cleaning it up by sticking it in your mouth. Still joined together you bent down and licked up the cum on his plastron and by the pleasant little clench Mikey gave, you knew he liked what you were doing.

“You alright?” You kissed the question against his chest, slowly pulling out with a bite to your lower lip. Settling next to him you couldn’t help but smirk, he was still swimming in all those nice little chemicals one releases. You let him have his moment, opting to just lazily make out with him.

#tmnt Michelangelo x male reader #tmnt bayverse #tmnt mikey x reader #michelangelo tmnt #tmnt michelangelo x reader #michelangelo x reader #mikey #Michelangelo #smut prompts #ask #eemoo1o #ns*w

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

christmas with the camerons

gif from @toesure (doesn’t really fit but baby blue suit rafe has my heart)

wordcount: 1.9k

Two nights before Christmas, the Cameron family held their infamous holiday party. It was extravagant and well-known throughout the Outer Banks, and Sophie’s mom was practically giddy with excitement when she found out Sophie was going. When she came down the stairs, all dressed up and filled with nervous energy, her mom scanned her over.

“That looks good. Just make sure you’re careful when you lean over so it’s not slutty.” She tugged at the strap of Sophie’s dress, pulling her up straight.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alice, she looks great.” Her dad chimed in, giving Sophie a reassuring smile.

Her mom just nodded, reaching out to fix a stray strand of Sophie’s hair and frowning when Sophie flinched away. “Be sure and behave, Sophie, you could make a lasting impression there. Surely you remember your etiquette classes you took at the academy?”

“I remember, Mom.” She twisted her bracelets, glancing at the time on her phone.

“Please don’t bring up the environment, at least, no one likes a woman that has far too much to say. And stand up straight.”

“Jesus, Mom, she’ll be fine. I’m the one that never paid attention in etiquette anyways.” Her brother Carter strolled down the stairs, swinging his keys around his finger. “Ready to go, Soph?”

Sophie nodded quickly and headed out the door with Carter, who was dropping her off. The car ride was fairly quiet, Sophie too anxious to keep up with small talk. She felt extra subconscious coming out of the old, slightly used car while the other cars parked along the drive were Audis and BMWs.

“Hey.” Carter caught her attention just before she shut the door. She paused and turned back. “Oh, sorry, thanks for the ride.”

“It’s nothing. Hey, you look good. Don’t think about what Mom said.” He held out his hand, handing her a mini shooter bottle of tequila. She laughed. “Carter, I cannot go into this drunk -”

“It’s one shot, Soph, if you’re drunk after this we have a bigger problem.” He grinned and pressed it into her hand. “Throw it into your purse for later. You’ll kill it.”

She grinned back, finally feeling a little at ease. “You promise you’ll pick me up if I need it?”

“At your beck and call, one night only.” He promised. “Go.”

She gave him another smile before tucking the shooter into her purse and walking in, head held high and forcing herself to look as confident as possible. (She had used the same technique before, Halloween night when she finally told Rafe how she felt about him, but she felt miles out of her league this time.)

Rafe had been waiting upstairs in his room, pacing back and forth until he got the text that she’d arrived. He came downstairs with the biggest grin once he saw her. “Soph, hey!” She grinned back, growing at ease. “Hey you. You look incredible.”

He greeted her with a kiss and ran his hands down her sides. “You look gorgeous. Seriously.” She blushed, trying to hold back her smile. “Quit.”

“Never. I’m gonna tell you that all night.” He wrapped her in a hug, frowning a little when she didn’t relax into his arms. “You feel alright? Excited?”

“Ah...just a little nervous.” She admitted.

“Just, uh...think of it as a frat party.”

“Rafe.”

He laughed. “Okay, okay, think of it as formal. You survived that just fine. I thought you liked parties though?”

She lowered her voice, eyes flitting around at the expensive-looking couples walking by. “Yeah, parties with beer pong and people downing White Claws, not parties with, like, waltzes and Veuve Clicquot champagne.”

“Ah. Dom Perignon, actually.” He corrected, and she let out a small groan and dropped her head to his chest. “Please say you’re kidding.”

“Only the best for the Cameron Christmas party.” He squeezed her hip gently and tilted her head up. “Seriously though, it’s nothing to stress about. Just dinner, drinks, some dancing and then we can ditch and go get wasted at Topper’s.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve done this your whole life.”

“Yeah, so I’m the perfect person to be with tonight.” He kissed her again. “Let’s go find our spot at the table, I have to introduce you to my dad.”

She froze. “I have to meet your dad?”

He put both hands on her shoulders, shaking her a little to get her to relax. “You thought you were coming to a party hosted by my dad and wouldn’t meet him?”

“I...no? Figured he’d be busy?”

“Well yeah, but later. C’mon, we should get this over with.” Rafe took Sophie’s hand and tugged her toward the head table, where a seat was reserved for her. She leaned back on her heels, stopping him. “Do we really have to? Can’t I sit with Kelce and Topper or something at their table?” He shook his head. “No, you’re my guest. I just need to introduce you real quick, we’ll do the whole thing and then we can get out of here. Deal?”

Sophie adjusted her dress and stood up straight, unsure. “Do I look fine?”

“You look perfect. Promise.” He reassured her with a quick kiss to her forehead, then led her over to his dad, seated and waiting. Ward rose when he saw them, offering a polite smile and extending his hand. “Is this your guest tonight, Rafe?”

“Yeah, Dad, this is my girlfriend Sophie.”

“Oh, the girl from your marketing class? Rhodes, right?”

Sophie paused mid-shaking Ward’s hand, her already-forced smile faltering. “No, sir, it’s Flint. Sophie Flint.”

“Of course!” Ward recovered quickly, but Sophie didn’t miss the glance he shot to Rafe. “Nice to meet you, Sophie. You met Rafe at school?”

“In high school, Dad, she grew up here. Went to Greenville with Sarah.” He paused, growing a little tense. “I’m pretty sure I told you that. Remember, her dad was my golf instructor at the course growing up? Jeff Flint?”

“Right, right.” Ward nodded. Rafe squeezed Sophie’s hand a little too tight, knowing damn well his dad had only dropped him off at five lessons total growing up and just bothered to pay the check instead.

“Thank you again for the invite, Mr. Cameron. This party is really nice.” Sophie tried ending the conversation, gesturing at the opulent atmosphere.

“I’m glad you could come. Make sure Rafe here doesn’t ruin it,” Ward joked, and Rafe was practically breaking her hand at that point from squeezing so tight. She just gave him a tight smile and pulled Rafe away, not speaking until they were hidden away on the wrap-around porch.

“Shit, Rafe.” She cursed, tugging her hand out of his grip. He frowned and instantly took it back, a lot gentler, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before rubbing his thumb over her hand. “Sorry, just - fuck, he pisses me off -”

“I know, I know. It’s okay.” Sophie paused, lowering her voice a little. “Who’s the girl from your marketing class?”

“Oh, her.” Rafe rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Lexie Rhodes, we were in some group project together for the semester and I guess my dad does business with her family or whatever. He tried to set us up.”

“Wait. Rhodes, like, Rhodes Tower in Columbus? The really tall one?”

“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded.

She hummed in recognition, trying her best not to grow nervous again at another reminder of how out of place she was. “Alright.”

“Hey, wait, I didn’t consider it or anything. Nothing happened.”

“No, no, I didn’t think that. S’okay.”

“Okay.” He nodded, wearing a small frown, and Sophie smoothed the pad of her thumb over the corner of his lips. “That wasn’t terrible, was it?”

“No, he’s just rude and can’t remember our entire conversation from last night at dinner. I told him everything about you.” He huffed and she raised her eyebrows. “Everything?”

“Yeah, where we met, our group project, how you hated me for years -”

“Rafe, I didn’t hate you -” She only cut herself off when she noticed his smirk. “Quit, I can’t handle that tonight!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He nudged her shoulder. “We have to go back, my dad’s gonna kill me if we’re not seated for the start of dinner.”

She nodded and followed along, shooting him a grateful smile when he pulled out the chair for her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. They made it through dinner without incident, both Sarah and Wheezie keeping her nerves down with jokes about the rest of the guests and stories of past Christmas parties. She eased up a little after a few glasses of champagne, the bubbles going straight to her head. Rafe didn’t bother to cut her off when he caught her stumbling a little in a twirl, just laughing and holding her close instead.

After being out for longer than planned on the dancing floor, Rafe brought Sophie back inside to his room. She wore his suit jacket over her dress, the sleeves going a good six inches past her fingertips. “You look adorable.” He grinned, letting her take a seat on the bed while he rolled up his shirt sleeves. She pouted, a little tipsy. “Thought you said I was gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous, and adorable, and beautiful, and fucking stunning.” He told her, smirking when she turned red. “Let me use the bathroom then we can head to Topp’s, alright?”

“Alright.” She nodded. After a second, curiosity got the best of her and she googled the brand of Rafe’s suit jacket she wore and winced at the pricetag, quickly exiting the tab and closing her phone. He came back out a few moments later, hair a little unkempt just how she liked it. “Ready, baby?”

“It’s okay that I’m here, right?”

He raised his eyebrows, confused. “In my room? Yeah, why?”

“No, at the party. I mean.” She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. “I was out of place all night.”

Rafe frowned and sat next to her, taking her hand in his. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Normally she’d keep this in, but loose lips got the best of her. “Your dad is trying to set you up with probably one of the richest girls at Ohio State and you’re just dating your golf instructor’s daughter. The only reason I ever saw you at the country club growing up was because my dad had a free membership from teaching.”

“Sophie...” He slid his hand to her thigh, squeezing her knee.

“Sorry, just, um. Is that what you want? I don’t want to hold you back.”

“What?! No, no, Soph, no.” Rafe tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear to get her to make eye contact. “Where is this coming from?”

She shrugged, growing a little embarrassed. “I just thought about it. Look, it doesn’t matter, we can just go to Topper’s party.”

“That’s not what I want, Sophie, I want you.” He frowned, unsure of how to convince her further. “That stuff doesn’t matter to me, not at all. Promise.”

The half-hearted reassurance didn’t do much to help her, but Sophie nodded and forced a smile, giving him a quick kiss before standing. “Alright. Just needed to hear that, I guess. I’m ready to go.”

He paused before standing too. “You’re sure? I like you, Sophie. You’re my girl.”

She pushed any uneasy thoughts to the back of her mind and smiled genuinely at his last sentiment. “Come on, handsome. Party awaits.”

He gave her a longer-than-normal hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead before escorting her back downstairs, mind racing with uncertainty.

#rafe x sophie #rafe cameron #mine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron fanfic #outer banks fanfic #college rafe #frat rafe

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remythologise · 3 years

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tom hardy improving ‘darling’ bc he’s insane vs. jensen ackles accidentally birthing destiel through his little crush on his costar: FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! (falling back into spn fic has consequently made me revisit some of my favorite fic for truly insane 2010s tumblr pairings. arthur/eames is obviously one of these. I must know if you ever read presque vu.)(also I once read a j2 fic where jared was a secret agent and jensen was his slutty handler and just. um. it was a choice.)

Hey anon come here I love you and I wanna kiss you and I thought about making a joke about Tom/Jensen here but I think it’s like two magnets with the same polarity they both have those Lips... and make those Jacting Joices. Wouldn’t work at all. I don’t believe in top/bottom discourse or The Dynamic or whatever reductionist bullshit but I DO believe in this new reductionist bullshit I’ve tapped into right here. Speaking of; cannot BELIEVE how much content Arthur/Eames got out of a few lines in that film like that is some HEAVY LIFTING by Mr. Hardy good for him. I’m pretty hit or miss on 2010s white men slash fandoms like I did read Arthur/Eames but only because everyone else was, I really don’t remember any that I loved or felt strong emotions about (and yeah I’ve read most of rageprufrock’s well known fics, she got in early with a lot of those fandoms!)... However the tumblr dash peer pressure* to vibe with Arthur/Eames was at least peer pressure with TASTE! I was also peer pressured into Teen Wolf** and Sherlock*** fandoms I feel. Although I resisted peer pressure on the Social Network and some others. On the other hand, WB Holmes, Merlin and 2009 Star Trek always have and always will absolutely fuck.

A Choice huh??? Tell me more. I’m not going to lie I would read RPF rn out of blatant curiosity but every time I’ve ever tried it, it made me a) uncomfortable and b) I don’t ship those people tbh and c) I just don’t feel RPF is generally well written EXCEPT the one**** RPF I remember reading/enjoying a decade ago, that Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto World War I AU LMAO I mean. Is it RPF if it’s such a blatant AU? Who knows.

* Peer pressure being a joke, obviously it’s just wanting to be in on the same fun everyone else is having. I’m sure everyone dragged in SPN feels this way but I genuinely believe it’s such a valid time that everyone is having genuine emotions about vs. like. pretending to as I feel with respect to... ** Prime example: tumblr psyop into liking Sherlock, objectively a bad show, and shipping Johnlock... when I say pretending to care about ships it’s like. I couldn’t bring myself to read fic for Johnlock I just shipped it through gifs, same with *** ACTUAL example of peer pressure since an... ex friend of mine irl bullied me into watching all of Teen Wolf when it was airing... emphasis on ex friend... **** Also the Leonard Nimoy/William Shatner name changed serial numbers filed off high school AU that was published but you read it and you’re like. I see

#nobody stopped me from putting these thoughts down in virtual ink and that was a mistake #just taking the opportunity to talk about my mixed feelings on 2010 tumblr fandoms and running with it #sorry anon #ask #anonymous #kira for ts #spn spoilers #supernatural spoilers #rpf for ts???????

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

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Chubby Arthur with a chubby female reader. Modern times. Can be smutty af. (Haha I’m kinda slutty for my Artie). He’s teaching her about riding horses and next thing you know.....

I’m sorry this took so long! This week has been weird. Anyways, here you go! BTW, this piece made me miss my own horseback riding lessons.

Warnings: smut

You sigh a little nervously. Are you really ready to do this? What if you make a complete fool of yourself? What if he laughs at you? You’ll probably look ridiculous the entire time. What if you enjoy it too much and you make some goofy face? God, this was a bad idea, you tell yourself.

“You ready?” Arthur asks, walking up to you.

You open your eyes, swallowing. Okay, deciding to take horseback riding lessons was a mistake, you’re sure of that now. But why in the hell did your instructor have to be so damn good looking?

You graduated college a year ago and now that you have a good paying job and are fairly stable in your living situation, you decided to go looking on the internet for some things to do with your free time. Some new hobby to develop. Something active. You looked at maybe doing archery or just plain old hiking, and while you liked doing them, they weren’t enough to really keep you going for a long time. Besides, your archery instructor kept pushing you to buy your own gear and that shit’s expensive, so you dropped it. Then you ran into an ad about horseback riding lessons and the fees weren’t out of your range like a lot of the others.

You pat the horse’s neck that you’ve just tied up to the post. She’s a dapple gray mare named Willow. Arthur explained when you first got here that she’s the best with beginners. He has five horses total, including a massive iron gray draft horse. He showed you how to interact with Willow, how to put a halter on and then how to tie her to the post outside his tack room. That’s where you are now after he left to grab some grooming tools.

“Ma’am, you ready?” he says again. You finally nod, feeling like a damn fool. He’s an attractive man, more on the plump side but you can tell he’s still very fit. You’re chubby yourself, a struggle you’ve had for most of your life. It’s also been one of your biggest insecurities. There’s no way in hell this man finds you attractive. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly polite and has a gruff voice, the kind that could turn you to butter.

He hands you a grooming brush and shows you how to brush Willow. Then he shows you how to clean Willow’s feet with a pick and then has you do it. She’s a patient and obedient horse, to which you’re grateful. When she’s all brushed and clean, Arthur comes out with a blanket and a big saddle. He shows you how to position the blanket and then throws the saddle over her back. Then he shows you how tight to put the girth around Willow’s belly and how to measure and adjust the stirrups. Then he shows you how to bridle her. He undoes everything and tells you to repeat it. He’s a firm believer in hands-on learning, which you appreciate.

After she’s saddled up, you lead Willow outside with Arthur. He’s glad you had the knowledge to buy yourself some gear before showing up, mostly the riding boots and a helmet. He admits he never wears one himself, but he grew up on horses so he’s pretty confident in his riding skills.

“Never go without a helmet until you know how to ride backwards, forwards and upside down,” he says.

In the round pen, he teaches you how to mount. When you’re finally on Willow’s back, he asks how it feels. It feels good, even if it is taller than you thought it’d be. Arthur just has you walk around the round pin for the next half hour so you can get used to the horse moving beneath you and get your balance. He’s surprised how well you’re able to balance yourself.

Over the lesson, you keep catching him looking at you, but you can’t tell if he’s just making sure you don’t fall off or get ahead of yourself. It’s probably just wishful thinking, but you swear he seems to always have a small smile when he’s looking at you. Like you said, there’s no way he finds you attractive.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you have a few more lessons and have graduated to trotting and doing simple work like pirouetting and other types of turns. Arthur says it’s all important so you can really learn how to feel your horse and build that unique bond of trust between horse and rider. It’s tough work that always leaves you sweating a little, not to mention sore. After your first lesson, you could barely walk normally because of how saddle sore you were.

You swear Arthur’s been flirting with you a little more and more each time you’ve come for a lesson. Banter between you comes easily and you learn a lot about each other. However, by your sixth lesson, you struggle to look him in the eye thanks to the fact you’d had a wet dream about him. It had been amazing too, the things he did to you were just wonderful. You’re determined to keep it a secret.

The tenth lesson, as you’re unsaddling Willow, Arthur strolls up to you, looking nervous. Oh no, he’s about to tell you he can’t continue teaching you for some reason. Is he about to sell his ranch? Is he selling Willow?! You love Willow, she’s a fantastic horse. Oh no, what is he about to announce? You’ve come so far with these lessons, they’ve been an incredible amount of fun.

He rubs his neck nervously. “Hey, uh, Y/N. I was wonderin’, well…” He stutters a bit. “I understand if you ain’t interested or if you got plans. And I certainly don’t wanna step on any toes if you already got someone, but…” He finally looks at you with those beautiful blue eyes. They were the first thing you noticed about him. “I’d love to take ya out to dinner. Tomorrow, if you’re free?”

You must be tired or hungry or dehydrated or something. No way in hell did Arthur Morgan, your horse riding instructor and certified hottie, just ask you out on a date. There’s no way in hell! You must take too long to process this because he begins to stammer again. “I didn’t mean…. If ya already got a boyfriend, or a girlfriend even, I certainly don’t wanna intrude. Sorry if I offended ya.”

He begins walking away, his face red. You come to your senses, realizing you didn’t make it up. “Arthur, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I thought… well, I thought I was just hallucinating or something. To be honest, I’ve wanted to ask you out forever but just… didn’t think you’d want to.” Great, now you’re the one rambling. “Arthur, I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

You’ve never seen him smile so wide. “Well, that’s great, Y/N.” The two of you set time and details and then you say goodbye. His eyes are sparkling when you leave and you feel like you’re floating the entire way home. You can’t believe it. A date with Arthur Morgan! He’s gotta have dozens of women drooling at his feet, you know he teaches other people to ride. You’ve seen a couple of them. So why in the hell did he ask you out? You’re just a normal girl, there’s nothing about you that you find interesting. Not in personality and definitely not in looks.

The next day, you try to find something nice to wear. Not anything too formal of course, but something nice. You end up just putting on a clean pair of jeans and a tank top with a plaid button down shirt, leaving it open. There. A safe, nice and casual look that still says you know how to have fun.

Arthur knocks on your door and when you open it, you can’t help but let your mouth fall slightly open. He was always good looking before but now he’s down right sexy. He’s in a pair of jeans, his signature cowboy boots, and a blue plaid button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His shirt’s only buttoned up to halfway up his chest, revealing some of the hair growing on his chest. You remember your sex dream involving him and resist the urge to just rip his shirt open. You doubt you’ll ever get to that point with him.

At dinner, the two of you get on famously. You chat at the table for well over two hours. But after having a few drinks, your resolve to not be overly sexual towards him is beginning to slip.

“I think I need more riding lessons,” you say, slurring slightly. “Maybe you can help me more?”

His eyes spark at you, a dark look in them and he wears an illegally sexy grin. “Oh, I can certainly do that, darlin’.”

Okay, you’re already hot for this guy. Jesus, you’re not even intimate with him and he’s already pushing your buttons. You think somewhat woefully about how you’ll probably end up feeling lonely while using your vibrator again later tonight.

However, when you walk out with Arthur to his truck, slightly tipsy, he stops you and then slowly bends down and kisses you. His lips are like fire. They awaken some kind of heat within you that has nothing to do with sex. It feels incredible and you find yourself wanting more when he pulls away. You reach up, tangling your hands in his hair, and kiss him back. Your hand wanders down from his head to his chest where you start rubbing his collarbone, your fingertip barely touching it. His response is undeniable and he groans. “Your house?” he says, his breath picking up. You just nod and kiss him again.

The next thing you know, you’re in his truck and he’s speeding down the road towards your house. Now is the time for you to start freaking out. Are you really going to sleep with him on the first date? Technically, you’ve spent a lot of alone time with him, but they were never dates. Was this his goal all along? Just getting you into bed and having fun and then, next thing you know, he’s just your instructor again or worse, he disappears? Should you be doing this?

He must be able to tell you’re freaking out because he reaches over and takes your hand. “Sweetheart, you feelin’ okay?” You look at him. “I, um, I don’t want you to think I do this on every first date, Arthur. Because I don’t. Hell, I’ve never fooled around with anyone until after our third date.” He chuckles and brings your hand up to kiss it. “I understand. And I don’t want ya to think I’m tryin’ to take advantage of you.”

He pulls up to your house and he stops, but doesn’t get out. “Listen, we don’t have to if you don’t feel ready.” Okay, you’re already hard core falling for him. First, he’s hot, he’s sweet and kind, and now he’s patient and he doesn’t wanna push you. You reach over and kiss him. “Thank you, Arthur. I think… if we did it tonight, we’d probably end up regretting it.”

He nods and then walks you to the door. There, he gives you another kiss. This one’s more passionate, yet not pushy. In it, he says he’s already crazy about you.

After the first date, the riding lessons have changed only slightly. There’s more touching and kissing, plus Arthur doesn’t hide his flirting anymore. You’ve gone on a few more dates but still haven’t done the nasty with him. He hasn’t pushed for it either, but you can tell you’re getting close to breaking that.

During one riding lesson, he shows you a slightly tricky maneuver and you try to copy it but end up just slipping off the horse and falling into the sand. He runs over, asking if you’re okay. You are, the only thing injured is your pride. He chuckles when you get up, clearly unhurt. “Now you’re a real cowgirl!” he says with a laugh. “Falling off is a right of passage, sweetheart.”

“I just lost my balance is all,” you say, brushing your jeans off. The sexual tension throughout the day has been stronger than ever. He touches your shoulder. “Maybe you need a little more practice,” he says.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing him, your arms wrapped around him. He groans against your lips and you reach down, squeezing his crotch. It immediately grows hard. Arthur pushes you away just slightly and he grabs your hand, running into the stable and into an empty stall where he stores hay and sawdust.

As soon as he gets there, you’re attacking him. The first thing you do is rip open his shirt. Fuck, he’s even hotter than you thought. You start kissing his chest and stroking his nipples. He tips his head back as one hand wanders down to his belt and undoes it. In your desperation to see him unsheathed, you fumble with his belt. Eventually you get it undone and his pants unbuttoned. You reach in and grab him, his length already hard. His hips buck a little.

“Hey,” he groans. “Let me give you another riding lesson.”

You shiver and nod. He lifts up your shirt and rips it off and then unclasps your bra. He stares at your naked breasts for a moment and then you reach down and strip off your pants. Now you’re completely naked in front of him. He smiles as he studies your body and then he strips his own clothes off.

Once you’re both exposed, he lays down on his back, his cock standing erect. He gestures down at it. “Come on, cowgirl. Time for your lesson.”

You almost giggle at how cheesy he is, but you comply. You kneel down, straddling his hips but keeping his length away from your slit. You kind of wish there was something in the terms of foreplay. He must sense your hesitation. His hands latch onto your hips and he starts rubbing up your sides and finds your breasts. You tilt your head back as he strokes your nipples, making the already stiff nubs perk out even more.

Eventually one hand leaves your breast and slides down between your legs. “Damn, you’re wet,” he says. You sigh in pleasure and then he slips a finger into your soaking slit, making you yelp. He tickles you, your breath picking up. You involuntarily twitch on him and then he pushes a finger into you. “Think you’re ready, cowgirl,” he says after a few moments of you fucking his hand.

You nod and sit up a little, grabbing his stiff cock. You pump it a few times and then angle your hips directly above it, settling down onto him. He feels good as he fills you up. He goes in deep and then, without warning, he begins pushing himself in and out of you. You can’t help but moan with every push and bounce along with him, creating even more friction between the two of you. You look down at him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are filled with lust. He’s left his old hat on. To be expected, you suppose. You’ve never seen him with it off.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he growls. You gasp again as he puts his hand back to your slit, tickling your clit. He’s the first man you’ve done this who has actually taken the time to make sure you get your pleasure.

“Keep going,” you squeak. “Oh God, Arthur, it feels good.” He stimulates you again and again, your hips wildly bucking as his cock pulses within you. He pushes himself up a little harder, brushing your spot as he slides his finger across your clit again. You clench your toes and groan loudly, turning into jelly on him. “Good girl,” he says in a deep voice. “You’re alright. Easy.”

Just as you’re coming down and about to put yourself back together, he flips you onto your back so he can really pound himself into you. He’s going so hard you’re sure it’ll hurt in the morning, but you don’t care. He feels amazing. You clutch his back, leaving behind small scratches as he thrusts again and again, chasing his own end. After a short time, he finally pulls out and releases onto your thighs and the hay beneath you. “Shit,” he says when he’s finished spilling out.

You cup his cheek and smile up at him. “Did I do good?” you ask. He smiles and kisses you. “I think we might need another lesson.”

#red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #modern arthur #awkward asks #rdr2 fanfic

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virginpornstar · 3 years

Text

What I Learned From All Of My Hookups In 2020

I knew 2020 would be less slutty than 2017-2019 due to the fact I wasn’t living in ATL. I still had plans to travel monthly, discover new cities and new men, and be a slut everywhere I go. Covid-19 ruined that. So 2020 was far less slutty than I had anticipated, but I still had a lot of fun this year. We have to roll with the punches, and readjust our plans when the plague strikes. I still learned a lot about myself and my sexual interests with each new penis that entered my body. Here’s what I learned from all of my hookups i n 2020!

1. GUYS THAT DELETE AND CONSTANTY REMAKE NEW DATING APP PROFILES HAVE MENTAL ISSUES

Hooking up with New Castle started off fun, but then he kept acting weird. I asked him why he’d always delete his Grindr profile then make a new one every other week, then he’d go off on me for asking why. I did realize he’d make profiles advertising himself as a top, then ones as vers, then others as a bottom. A clear sign the man didn’t even know what he wants. We had some good times until he started acting crazy, and then randomly blocking men when I couldn’t hookup.

2. GUYS TREAT ME DIFFERENTLY NOW THAT I’VE LIVED IN ATL

Left Tackle and I had been hooking up off and on since 2016. Yet suddenly in 2020 he wanted to start acting differently, like he’s too good for me. Um what? He also acted grossed out and disgusted after following all my ATL sexual adventures, and I think he started to think I was tainted after reading about me hooking up with a poz guy while on vacation. Oh well. Fuck buddies aren’t meant to last forever. I will not have a guy treating me like he’s too good for me, when in fact I’ve always been too good for him.

3. I NEED TO STOP HOOKING UP THE NIGHT BEFORE VACATION

I noticed a pattern of when I’m supposed to have a slutty vacation weekend I end up hooking up the night before I leave. Which either makes me dickmatized and not horny on the trip, or I get my hole ripped and then I can’t even fully enjoy hooking up while away. I’m still gonna fuck, just not as much or as enjoyably if I hadn’t gotten fucked the night before. I still enjoyed my encounter with Big D, even if he did rip me.

4. I CAN’T STAND VIRGOS

Philly Jawn and I had been following each other online and flirting here and there for years. Then when I was staying the weekend in Philly he and I finally made up. it started off well at first, and we even fucked, only for him to act distant and start ghosting me afterwards. Fuck that nigga. I can’t stand Virgo men since they always do this distant shit, and are terrible communicators. If you’re not interested then say so. Don’t waste my fucking time.

5. FORT LAUDERDALE WAS MORE FUN THAN MIAMI

Miami was my last vacation before Covid-19 plagued the earth. It’s also the last time I flew anywhere. I was so excited to hookup with all these hot Miami men, yet somehow Fort Lauderdale was way better than Miami. The bathhouse was definitely far superior in Fort Lauderdale than Miami at least, and I had way more fun hooking up with guys there than the bathhouse in Miami.

6. MIAMI IS TO LATINO GAYS WHAT ATL IS TO BLACK GAYS

I hooked up with so many latino men in Miami/Fort Lauderdale. They are the dominant population. It made me nostalgic for my younger years. I didn’t really get with many latinos in ATL, since black men rule that city. I had many latino lovers in the past, so it made me a little nostalgic. Sometimes a latin lover is all you need to give you great vacation sex.

7. I’M STILL NOT POZ FRIENDLY BUT MAKING PROGRESS

Miami has long been the biggest HiV hot spot in America. Their infection rates are far worse than Atlanta. So it did seem a bit fitting to hookup with a poz guy for the first time while in the HIV capital. When in Rome...granted I only hooked up with him because he was the only cute guy at the bathhouse at the time. If there was anyone more appealing, I wouldn’t have settled for a poz guy. I also wasn’t comfortable enough to do anal, but it’s still progress to have hooked up with a poz guy without penetration.

8. THE PHILLY BATHHOUSE WAS MORE FUN THAN I EXPECTED

I love checking out the bathhouses in every city I travel to. I didn’t have high expectations for the Philly bathhouse since I knew there wasn’t going to be a pool or hot tub, and those are my favorrite amenities at bathhouses. Yet surprisingly the Philly bathhouse was poppin, and I went on a Wednesday afternoon. It was very diverse, and although I didn’t fuck anyone, I still had a good time.

9. IT’S FUN TOPPING SOMEONE’S DAD

I always thought it was hot hooking up with a dick that’s created life. I hooked up with this DL divorced father of 2, he was young and around my age, but still hot knowing he had kids. I topped him, and then he became my plug. I do miss the weed provided more than I miss him.

10. I DON’T MISS THE BUMS IN THE SOUTH

My northern hookups have come bearing gifts. Weed, money, etc...I don’t miss the bums in Atlanta always begging for handouts. Asking for money, transportation, asking for shit. I’ve had so many guys give me shit without even asking like my DL Latino lover. Maybe I should remain in the north, although ATL keeps calling my name.

11. WHITE MEN LOVE BLOWJOBS

One thing I miss about Atlanta is the men there loved to fuck. Being in the suburbs with mostly old white men and DL guys I’ve realized most of them just want head. I used to be oral only, until I got on PrEP and lost a relationship to never wanting to fuck. So now I love to fuck, but keep encountering guys, like Mushroom Man, where all they want to do is get their dick sucked. Sorry, oral only isn’t enough for me to have a good time.

12. SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO CATFISH A GUY TO GET THE DICK THAT GHOSTED YOU

Chubby Chaster and I spent hours talking one night on Grindr, then he started ignoring me the next day. Oh hell no! I will not be ignored. I got into the whole anonymous profile thing briefly after my friend encouraged me, and weirdly so many guys are into that. I did end up getting Chubby Chaser to come over, and I kenw as soon as he saw me he must’ve been pissed to realize it was me. Oh well. I still made him cum.

13. WAY TOO MANY DL BOTTOMS IN THE SUBURBS

When I think of DL guys, at least the ones that turn me on, I think of guys with girlfriends/wives that are masc men you’d never be able to tell fuck guys on the DL. They’re also tops. Yet somehow all the DL guys with wives/girlfriends/baby mamas where I am now seem to all be bottoms. WTF! How can you fuck your girlfriend’s pussy, but somehow can’t use your dick to fuck a guy’s ass? Yet you want to let guys fuck you in the ass? That’s not fun for me. I top like once or twice a year, yet hooked up with so many DL bottoms this year.

14. I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR OTHER PEOPLE’S TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS

Gorilla and I have hooked up off and on for years. He’s a Scorpio too, and we never get along. Yet the sex is good. He’s been in an off/on relationshp for years, and seems to only hit me up whenever they’re off. Yet we fucked, then suddenly he started being distant afterwards, and then posting his man on social media. Ugh. I can’t stand that shit. I’ve been in that shit where I fuck new guys whenever my ex and I were off, and then when we’re on again ignore the new guys. I hate that cycle, and it’s not fair to the new people I got involved with. So I hate getting involved in that cycle in other people’s relationships since I wanted consistent dick.

15. NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU’LL MEET YOUR FUTURE SUGAR DADDY

I kinda only hooked up with Gasolina because i’d not had dick in months. I was a little desperate. I wasn’t that attracted to his pics, but he had a big dick, and I’m glad we did end up hooking up. Since he turned into my sugar daddy and I had many fun times this summer with him.

16. INVITING OVER A THIRD CAN SALVAGE A TERRIBLE HOOKUP

Panty Man got on my damn nerves. We rented a hotel together for the night, even though we barely knew each other and had only texted/talked on a dating app before. I knew as soon as we began talking, this wasn’t going to work, but I didn’t feel like leaving since I paid for half. I invited over New Castle, and then things turned into a threesome. They didn’t touch each other, but both fucked me. I had a good time, because I invited over another guy. I wouldn’t recommend inviting over a third to salvage terrible sex with your boyfriend, but it works for random hookups.

17. I LIKE CORRUPTING GOOD BOYS

I knew Rocky and I didn’t have any long term potential. He lived too far for me, and his health issues were something I don’t think I could deal with. But we still had some nice times together. He was such a good church boy so I had fun getting him to drink, try edibles, and even wanted him to try poppers. I love introducing men to new things.

18. I DON’T THINK I’LL EVER DATE A WHITE MAN AGAIN

It’s crazy to think I wasn’t even really attracted to black men until 4 years ago, and now I don’t see myself getting serious with any man that isn’t black. Farmer J was the last white boy I went out with/hooked up with, and he will hopefully be the last for the foreseeable future. I’ve had great encounters with white men before, but I never came close to an actual relationship with a white guy. Now after the ignorant comments Farmer J said, and it’s a lot of the ignorance that comes with dating a white man that is attracted to black people, but knows nothing about black people. His offensive comments that he never would’ve realized are offensive, and his voting history were a complete deal breaker for me. Completely reminded me why once you go black, you never go back.

19. GUYS ACT SKEPTICAL ABOUT FILMING YOUR SEXUAL ENCOUNTERS THEN GET SUPER INTO ONCE THE CAMERA IS ON

I saw The Reverend again for the first time in 4 years. I wanted to record more content for my OnlyFans. I knew he’d be skeptical due to the nature of his career, but I have masks and know what I’m doing. I’m surprised how into he got when the camera was on. I always turn my tops into the director since I’m too high on poppers to worry about angles, but it was a fun time. We got some really good footage for my channel.

20. A RANDOM HOOKUP CAN LEAD TO A RELATIONSHIP

Before BMore Bae entered my life I wasn’t looking for love. I had just launched my OnlyFans, wanted to record content, make money, enjoy life, save up before moving to ATL, and then boom. He comes over, he’s cuter than expected, and I caught feelings. I caught feelings fast. It’s been an roller coaster, but it’s so true. Love enters your life when you least expect it. I’m so glad it did. We’ve already made so many beautiful memories together, and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us.

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meltwonu · 4 years

Text

| caffeine | [chapter 5]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; oral(male receiving), face-fucking, hair pulling, some name calling, masturbation, minor panty sniffing. 😈🥴Much like SE this doesn’t follow any of the drabble game posts/blurbs that precede it otherwise it also wouldnt make sense jkfhksh there are some similar plot points as one of the posts i made but its not directly related! 💕💕A bit of a shorter chapter this week but thank you for your continued interest~💕💕💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - x - x - x - x - x

True to your word, you find yourself at a SVT House party a few days later.

You wonder how any of them can even deal with the amount of people currently crammed into every square foot of the big house because you can barely keep it together. Minghao is nowhere to be seen, obvious. And Mingyu currently towers over everyone else in the kitchen where you stand; pouring liquor straight into Jihoon’s mouth. You raise an eyebrow at the sight, taking a sip of your own cup before you turn to exit the bustling kitchen.

It wasn’t that you were a prude or hated parties; it was more-so the crowd that really turned you off. Also the fact that SVT parties usually only ended when the law enforcement swung by and you typically did not want to be around when and if that happened. You really had to know how Minghao dealt with this.

“Whoa there baby, not so fast!”

An arm wraps around your waist and tugs you into their warm chest and you immediately spin around in their hold to see who the culprit is. “Um, can I help you?” He was definitely taller than you, had a beaming smile, and cute mole on his cheek.

“Yeah! You almost left without introducing yourself to me, cutie~”

There’s a laugh on his lips after and if you weren’t already involved with someone from SVT House, this guy would’ve definitely been your pick. “Why should I go first? You’re the one with your hands on me.” To your surprise, he lets go of you, backing up slightly to give you some space.

“Oops, sorry, haha, you’re right! My name’s Seokmin.” He smiles at you, extending a hand towards you which you take as you introduce yourself. “That’s a cute name! Say, you wanna get out of here?” You try to refrain from laughing, of course that was his goal. “It depends, where are you tryin’ to take me?” His smile turns into a smirk, eyes smoldering as he peers down at you. “Hmm, guess it depends where you wanna go? There’s a lot of rooms in this house, cutie. And I can take you to any of them.”

It’s at this exact moment you realize that everyone that’s part of SVT House apparently takes a course in flirting. “What do you say, baby? I could show you somethin’ new, if you’d like.”

“Actually, I think I have to have a word with her.”

The familiar voice has you turning to your side, meeting Wonwoo’s inquisitive stare as he brings his own cup to his lips. “Oh… okay. Nevermind! It was nice meeting you though!” Seokmin shares a look with Wonwoo before leaving, a pout on his lips before he exits.

“Wow, didn’t think I’d actually run into you here Wonwoo.”

The said male smirks, placing his empty cup down on the cluttered countertop before he starts to push you out of the kitchen and into the hallway. There’s a few people scattered about in the tight space, but thankfully more empty than the kitchen had been.

“I live here. Why wouldn’t I be here, princess?”

“I mean, Minghao tells me he usually stays in his room when you guys have parties… I just assumed you were the same or something.”

Wonwoo leads you to a restroom in the hallway, gently pushing you in before he turns to lock the door. “Oh? Think I’m a goody two shoes even after everything I’ve done to you? You’re too kind, sweetheart.” He backs you into the countertop, arms caging you in as he stares down at you.

“No, I never said that. Trust me, I know you’re not.”

Wonwoo tells you that his room is off limits when you ask. That it’s a luxury you need to earn before he takes you there. You pout at him at first, but you accept it for what it is. For now.

Instead, he pushes you down onto your knees, hands immediately flying to the waistband of his jeans to undo the button. You watch him, hands already behind your back as you try to get as comfortable as you could with the rug digging into your kneecaps.

“Your little show the other day was real cute, princess. We should do that more often when you don’t show up to see me. I always miss your tight cunt, baby.”

You nod up at him, eyes focused on his half hard cock coming into view when he pushes his jeans and underwear down enough. “But for now, I want you to suck me off with that slutty ‘lil mouth of yours. And no hands.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wonwoo guides his cock to your mouth, tapping the head of it on your cheek before he drags it across to your lips. You part your lips, welcoming his cock into your mouth as you begin sucking on the head. Groans spill out of his mouth as he watches you; his left hand still guiding his cock into your mouth as his right hand goes straight for your hair. He threads his fingertips through your hair, pulling on it enough to get you moaning around him.

Little by little, you take more and more of Wonwoo’s cock into your mouth until he’s deep throating you. And you can feel him getting harder and harder in your mouth as you hollow out your cheeks around him.

“Fuck, your mouth is so fucking small… You’re so good at sucking my cock.”

By now, he already has both of his hands in your hair, holding you still as he thrusts into your mouth. You rub your thighs together, moaning around him when you feel how wet you are. “Mmh, I know how much you want me to take you upstairs and fuck your pretty cunt open. You only get that if you’re a good girl, y’know?” He lets out a heartless laugh, continuing to use your mouth to get off.

You whimper around him, eyes teary as you look up at him. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. We’ll get to that eventually.” He thrusts into your mouth particularly hard as you sputter around him. You know for sure you already look like a complete mess, eye makeup smeared and spit and precum dribbling down your chin. There’s a vague noise which sounds like knocking coming from the other side of the door and it reminds you that there’s an entire crowd of people just outside.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Be good and swallow it all for me, okay?” You nod slightly, relaxing your throat as he picks up the pace; the hands tangled in your hair tighter than before.

The knocking gets quicker and louder just as Wonwoo cums, a faint ringing in your ears as you swallow down all of the warm liquid. You can feel some of it dripping down your chin as he continues to shallowly thrust into your mouth, riding out his orgasm.

He lets go of your hair as he braces himself on the countertop above you, catching his breath as he stares down at you. You finally use your hands to brace yourself against his thighs, cleaning his cock with your mouth.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” Your throat feels impossibly sore; giving Wonwoo head after drinking earlier was probably not the best idea. “T-thank you, sir…”

“Hey! What the fuck is going on in there!?”

Right. The knocking.

Wonwoo gives you enough space to stand, legs shaky as you try to wipe off the cum drying on your chin while simultaneously trying to smooth down your messy hair. He tucks himself back into his underwear before he zips his jeans up, looking just as normal as ever. You check yourself in the mirror, only to find your lips swollen and eyes red from crying. There’s no way whoever is on the other side of the door won’t know; you just hope they’re too drunk to notice.

Despite the knocking, Wonwoo cages you against the sink again, tilting your head up to meet him in a searing kiss. It tastes like alcohol and cum, but he doesn't seem to mind. He drags a hand up your naked thigh, pushing the skirt you were wearing up until he can run his fingertips over your covered slit.

When he breaks away from the kiss, his lips ghost over yours, a smirk on the edge of them. “Take off your panties for me.”

“H-huh?”

“I can feel how wet they are and I want them.”

You decide to let him, letting him drag the wet material down your thighs until you step out of them. He brings the soaked material to his face before smelling them, moaning as he does. Wonwoo pockets them right after, just as the knocking becomes unbearable.

When Wonwoo thinks you’re decent, he sidesteps you to open the door, revealing Seokmin on the other side.

“Fuck, are you serious? Should’ve just said you had dibs, bro. Anyway, party’s over man, someone broke Soonyoung’s gundam in the living room and he’s raising hell and jumping onto the tabletops. I think they need you.” Wonwoo doesn’t reply, instead wrapping a hand around your wrist as he drags you out of the restroom and back into the hallway.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Guess we’ll have to continue this another time.” You watch as he turns and starts walking away, surely to take care of whatever is going on in the living room. The stickiness between your legs is unbearable now that there wasn’t anything keeping it inside your panties, but you just need to get home so you can take care of it. Leaving yourself a mental note to send pics of yourself to Wonwoo later. He’d surely punish you for touching yourself without his permission, but you’d deal with that later.

“Hey, you gonna be okay? It’s kinda late to walk back. But I can walk you back if you want?” Seokmin comes up behind you, arm braced against the wall.

“Huh? No, it’s okay. I’ll, um, get a taxi or something. It’s not that far.”

“Okay. Might wanna text your dick appointment when you get in, though. That guy may not seem like it but he worries.”

That night when you get in, it’s a quick race to get undressed before your legs are spread on your bed.

Your idea of letting Wonwoo know you’re fine is sending him pictures of your state of undress and videos of you thrusting your dildo into your wet pussy. You even take the time to send him some audio clips where he can hear your whimpers and your wetness while you play with your toy.

You imagine it’s Wonwoo’s hands all over your body and Wonwoo’s cock deep inside of you. You even take the time to edge yourself twice; imagining it’s him making you whine and wait. His deep laugh and filthy praise on your mind when you cum hard; back bowing off the sheets as you cry out.

There’s a satisfied sigh on your lips when you slide the toy from inside of you, tiredness settling in when you sit up to get cleaned off. Getting off alone was fine, but it definitely wasn’t the same as actually fucking Wonwoo.

You were definitely going to the library tomorrow.

#fratboy!wonwoo #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios

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rekutopia · 4 years

Text

In which for once, Shirayuki didn't regret going to the Wiesn

A part of the Flatmate AU (one, two, in accidental order)

The skies were grey, thick clouds hung low over the bustling area, threatening at any moment to send gallons of water pouring down the people milling around. Judging from their happy, smiling faces, they didn’t seem to care.

Shirayuki gazed around with disinterest. With the sun hiding, the usually garish colour of the stands and tents appeared dull, muted, sad. Even the merry bleeping and honking and ringing around her could not convince her that this was a place to have fun.

She sighed inwardly and pulled her thick woollen cardigan tighter around her body. When she went out of Yuzuri’s flat the sun was still shining. Now, merely twenty minutes later, the said sun was missing, the temperature had dropped and she was left shivering. Her mind drifted longingly to her Trachtenjacke. She wished she had worn it instead.

Regretting her poor clothing decision, Shirayuki hurried to keep up with her friend, who was making a beeline for ‘Schottenhamel’ – the liveliest tent within the Wiesn. Yuzuri had on a new Dirndl she had bought a couple of days ago. It was blood-red with black rose pattern – much too short for Shirayuki’s taste – which she combined with a black satin apron. Her chosen blouse was also black, short-sleeved and lacey, which she pulled down to show off her immaculate ivory shoulders.

No matter how often Shirayuki begged Yuzuri not to buy cheap, touristy – and not to mention slutty – Dirndl anymore, Yuzuri always waved off her protests with a laugh.

It may be fine for you to wear the same Dirndl every time, Yuki, but for me, it’s simply boring! And it’s not like I can afford to buy one so pretty like yours every year! So, let me have my fun, okay? Just pretend that I’m a tourist!

When they entered the tent Shirayuki wished she could just grab Yuzuri and drag her back outside, all the way to the subway station and back to her flat.

The tent was full to bursting. There was live music playing, and although people had not started jumping on the benches some drunken pairs were already dancing on every available free space. Even more people were standing about on the aisles, talking and drinking. The security was trying to shoo them, but mostly to no avail. Balancing giant trays of dishes and huge mugs of beverages, the waiters and waitresses manoeuvred carefully to and fro.

Shirayuki stood frozen at the entrance. Her head was starting to spin. “There’s no way we could find a seat here, Yuzuri! Let’s just go!” She had to shout so her friend could hear her over the blaring brass band.

“Don’t worry, Yuki! I have a plan! Just follow me!” Yuzuri shouted back. Then she grabbed Shirayuki’s wrist and the next thing she knew she was plunged into the madness. As she worked her way through the crowd, Shirayuki tried to make herself smaller and keep a safe distance from other visitors’ feet and elbows. She was focusing so hard not to get bruised that she almost ran into Yuzuri’s back when she stopped abruptly.

“Why, hello there, lads! I’m so sorry to bother you! But would you mind squeezing together for two small girls? We won’t take up much space!”

It’s amazing how Yuzuri could even shout flirtily.

Twirling the end of her braids and showing off her shoulder, she winked confidently at the three guys sitting at the edge of a table like she didn’t expect any answers other than yes. The guys were all wearing some sort of Lederhose (definitely not the real thing, Shirayuki noticed) paired with checked shirts.

At first, Shirayuki thought they were foreign tourists who didn’t understand them since they were all just staring at them with half-opened mouths, speechless. She was about to nudge Yuzuri and tell her to repeat her question in English when the dark-haired one shouted back with a large grin, “Sure ladies! I think we could arrange that!”

Turning to his company, the guy explained their request in English and the other two nodded and smiled at the girls. After a quick shuffle, all three guys managed to squeeze together on one side of the table and the girls could sit down opposite them.

It was only friendly to do some small talk with other people sharing your table at the Wiesn, even if they were complete strangers. Even if you don’t share the same language. Alcohol makes everything possible. And so they all chatted a little while Yuzuri and Shirayuki waited for their beverages.

Shirayuki played nervously with the hem of her apron. It’s been a while since she last had a conversation in English. The last time was probably at the university and that was like, five years ago. The guys were probably too drunk anyway to check on her grammar but Shirayuki didn’t want to risk saying something embarrassing, so she let Yuzuri do most of the talking.

Turned out their seat givers were all Americans. The dark-haired one now sitting in the middle has a Japanese mother, though. Figured. He had a typical handsome hafu face. As a matter of fact, all three guys were handsome in one way or another, but Shirayuki found herself helplessly drawn to the half-Japanese guy.

His eyes were astonishingly golden. Initially, Shirayuki thought the light was playing tricks on her but after glancing at him again and again and again she was pretty sure of their colour. She wondered whether it was caused by some kind of genetic mutation but she was smart enough not to let her curiosity out in the open.

Apparently, this guy was the local person and his friends were currently visiting him just for the beer festival. Shirayuki thought they must have loved beer that much. They said they each have had three Maß since lunchtime and they surely looked that way. Their local guide still seemed fairly sober, though. Unlike them, there was still no sign of redness on his face, no stuttering on his words. After 3 litres it’s quite impressive.

He was also rather quiet compared to his two friends, Shirayuki noticed. He simply listened attentively and nodded from time to time.

Maybe he’s The Silent Drunk type.

---

When their drinks arrived, at last Shirayuki had an excuse to rest her gaze somewhere other than on the golden eyes. She blushed when the guys teased her as they found out that it was not beer she was drinking but apple fizz. Yuzuri, the traitor, also sided with them.

“Oh, come on, Yuki! You’ve been miserable the whole day! The least you could do is drowning your sorrow in alcohol! Here, have a sip of mine!”

Shirayuki made a face at Yuzuri. She did not want to be reminded of her pitiful situation. “I don’t like beer! And it’s not like I could drink my problem away!” She took a sip out of her own giant mug. Then she sighed out loud and propped her chin on her palm.

The guy in the pink checked shirt seemed to notice the sudden change in Shirayuki’s mood and decided to butt in. “Hey, is everything alright with your friend?” he shouted at Yuzuri. She blinked a couple of times before realising that she and Shirayuki were no longer talking in English.

“Don’t worry, she’s fine,” she said, switching back to English. “It’s just that her landlord has kicked her out of her flat and now she’s homeless.”

Shirayuki glared daggers at Yuzuri. How embarrassing! She didn’t want them to think she had been spending her nights on the streets! She tried desperately to save her dignity. “No, no! I’m not homeless! I’m currently staying at her place!” she said, pointing at Yuzuri, who chortled.

“That is called homeless, girl! And don’t get me wrong, I love you and all your plants, but you’ll need to find a new place, soon.”

As usual, when they had this conversation, Shirayuki fell into her steaming discourse about how hard it was to find a flat in this city, how high the rental fees were and how although she had been trying, she didn’t think she could ever find another flat, let alone a decent one, which she could pay with her pathetic pharmacist’s salary, in the next ten years.

Unexpectedly, the guy in the pink shirt butted in again. “How about sharing a flat? Obi here has a room you could use,” he jerked his chin towards his friend.

“Yea,” the other guy in the blue shirt added, “you’ll have to wait until we’re gone but then our room could be yours, right, Obi?”

The mesmerising golden eyes fell on Shirayuki’s, accompanied by a lazy smile. “If that’s what the lady wishes.”

Shirayuki’s mouth fell open and she stared at him dumbly. This can’t be real. Beside her, she heard Yuzuri gasp loudly. Whether out of excitement or out of bafflement she couldn’t tell.

The guy – Obi? – seemed to notice her discomfort and added, “I apologise for my friends, Miss, they seem to take the matter rashly into their own hands. But actually, I do have a vacant room in my flat and I am currently looking for a flatmate. The room is also listed on the web, so if you’re searching for one, we would probably meet anyway, one way or another.”

Yuzuri turned to Shirayuki and grabbed her arm, shaking her. “This is even better, Yuki! We’ve been talking with him the whole time! So there’s no need to do the usual annoying flatmate interview, right?!” She turned and glared intimidatingly at Obi. “Right??”

Shirayuki mentally facepalmed. The emphasis was on “we”. Yuzuri had been talking with Obi the whole time. And to be more precise, it was less with him than with the other two guys. Obi and Shirayuki were more on the listening end here. “U-um, I-I–”

On the other side of the table, Obi chuckled and waved his hand appeasingly in front of his face. “If it would make you feel better we could still do the interview, Miss. But trust me, I don’t bite.” His lopsided smile was the complete opposite of his words. “And I’d very much like to get to know you better. We could also do a trial period if you want – if it doesn’t work between us, you could always go back to your friend’s place.”

Wording!

Yuzuri grinned and shook her head, “Oh, I’m sure you two will get along very well! You like plants, don’t you, Obi?”

Obi’s smile went wider. “I love them. I just somehow always end up killing them.”

“Perfect! I’ll help you pack as soon as we’re back, Yuki!”

Shirayuki wished the ground would open up and swallow her. This was not the progress of the day she had imagined. On the other hand, she had been living at Yuzuri’s place for two and a half weeks now and she was feeling guiltier every day. Maybe this guy’s offer was not so bad after all. She just wished he wouldn’t turn out to be a serial killer or a psychopath or both.

---

The tent was rather uncomfortably warm now. Shirayuki didn’t think even more people could fit in it, but somehow they did. Her cardigan was tucked in the joints under the table, abandoned, and she wished she had her short-sleeved blouse on. Today was a disastrous day when it comes to her fashion choice. Shirayuki tried to ignore the heat and drew her attention back to the conversation.

“By the way!” slurred Pink Shirt after gulping down the last drop of his fourth Maß. “You girls look like you could take great pictures!”

Blue Shirt slurred along with his friend. “Oh, yea! You-you must help us! Did you know that waitresses here took terrible, terrible pictures?! Here, look!” He shoved his iPhone into Yuzuri’s hand.

Shirayuki took a peek at the picture over Yuzuri’s shoulder. There were the guys cheering, bumping their 1-litre mugs together, their beer sloshing down to the table. You could see each of their grinning faces, still looking pretty much sober. Nothing was obscured, nothing abnormally cropped. She couldn’t see anything wrong with the picture.

“We don’t look sexy at all, right? Right?! Please, be honest with us!” shouted Blue Shirt. “And look at our Ooobi! Waaay too much at the back! The mug is bigger than his head! Not. Sexy. AT ALL!” he added, jabbing his forefinger with every word on the screen.

Yuzuri scrunched her nose. “Isn’t it just because of the perspective? I think you guys look perfectly–”

“NOOOO!!” Pink Shirt bumped his head on the table. “That picture is unacceptable! We need more SEXY!! Take another one for us, please?”

Blue Shirt clasped his hand together and batted his eyelashes at Yuzuri. “Pretty please?”

(Later that night at her place Yuzuri told Shirayuki that by then she was one hundred per cent sure their newfound friends were dead drunk and, to her utmost disappointment, gay. But she said it was good for Shirayuki because that means her future flatmate is gay. It’s a huge bummer – since he’s hot – but hey, at least it’s safe.)

For now, she just played along and told them to get ready for a shot.

“Sweet!” Pink Shirt clapped his hands gleefully. “Obi! Ooobi! Let’s do our usual pose!”

“Hmm?” Obi was distracted by his phone. When he looked up, Shirayuki took note of his slightly mussed hair and his sleepy, dazed look. His shirt was opened to the second button, revealing more of his tanned skin. Oh, my. When did that happen?

“Our usual pose, okay?” Blue Shirt slung an arm over Obi’s shoulder and gestured to Pink shirt to do the same. Obi was now trapped between his friends. To Yuzuri Blue Shirt said, “We do one-two-three, then snap, got it?”

Yuzuri nodded and readied the iPhone.

“One. Two. Three!”

With that, Blue Shirt and Pink Shirt kissed Obi’s cheeks. Obi himself pursed his lips and winked to the camera, hand raised in a peace sign.

It was the second time that Shirayuki’s jaw dropped open that evening. Yuzuri squealed and instantly took several shots of the pose.

“You guys are CRAZY!”

Pink Shirt grinned mischievously at her. “Wait! Wait! We need our Ultimate Pose! Ready guys?! One! Two!! Three!!!”

Instead of snapping Yuzuri almost dropped the phone and started to laugh hysterically. Shirayuki covered her mouth with both her hands.

Oh. My. God.

Blue Shirt was nuzzling his nose into Obi’s ear, his right hand underneath Obi’s chin. On the other side, Pink Shirt was taking Obi’s earlobe between his teeth, pulling it a little. And Obi. Obi was looking sensually at the camera, slowly licking his lips, a finger tugging on the V of his shirt, pulling it further down…

Shirayuki thought she might faint. She could feel all her blood rushing up to her face, now certainly as red as Yuzuri’s Dirndl.

Okay. Maybe he’s The Flirty Drunk type?!

When Yuzuri’s hysteria had at last ebbed away, she carefully wiped the tears from her eyes and announced that they were obligated to take a group picture next. The guys shouted their approval and struggled to get up, almost tumbling over each other. Shirayuki followed timidly, crossing her fingers that they wouldn’t ask her to do any of their famous poses.

---

[Obi, 00:34] back home safely miss? *grin emoji*

[Me, 00:34] Yeap, thank you for asking!

[Obi, 00:38] thank you for the lovely evening miss *smile emoji* [Obi, 00:38] also from my friends *beer emoji* [Obi, 00:39] they’d write to you personally but they’ve passed out *sleep emoji* [Obi, 00:39] give our best regards to yuzuri *wink emoji* [Obi, 00:39] sleep tight miss *kiss emoji*

[Me, 00:39] Good night, Obi!

[Obi, 01:52] note2self [Obi, 01:52] room [Obi, 01:52] interview [Obi, 01:52] trial

**********

Late September. It was that time of the year again. Shirayuki smiled fondly as she swiped on her phone, looking at the pictures from three years ago. They were hilarious.

There was one with all five of them together, in different states of drunkenness except for herself. Pink Shirt and Blue Shirt were leaning heavily on each other. Shirayuki felt sorry for them – she couldn’t remember their names even if she tried. Huddled together beside them were Obi, Yuzuri and herself. She remembered it was only when they managed to stand up did she realise how tall Obi actually was.

There was one with Obi and Yuzuri in their coincidentally matching red attire. Yuzuri wanted Obi to lift her in his arms but he politely declined, saying he was already too drunk and didn’t want to risk dropping her.

And then there was one with Obi and Shirayuki herself, standing side by side, his hand resting lightly on her hip. There were two shots of this, and in one of them for some reason, Obi was glancing down at her.

Shirayuki caressed the picture lovingly. In there, she was wearing the same outfit now hanging outside of her bedroom door, fresh from the dry cleaner’s. The moss-green Dirndl with its fuchsia apron had become her favourite, as well as her long-sleeved white blouse. Ever since that fateful day, she almost always wore that outfit when she went to the Wiesn and to other folk festivals, especially when she went together with Obi.

Obi, on the other hand, had finally owned an appropriate Tracht, thanks to Shirayuki. No more touristy red checked shirt. The Tracht was his birthday present last year. Though it had cost her a small fortune it was so worth it. Proper Lederhose, proper white shirt, proper velvet vest in moss-green. It’s not that Shirayuki wanted them to be matchy-matchy, but the colour just suited Obi best. Despite his exotic look, in Shirayuki’s opinion Obi could pull the outfit off very well. Even better than Zen, if she was completely honest.

Another swipe on her phone and her heart leapt into her throat. There was that picture again. The sexy picture. The Ultimate Pose. Blue Shirt was kind enough to share the pictures with the girls. Shirayuki couldn’t stop herself staring at Obi’s eyes, and lips, and tongue, and–

“Nee, nee, how do I look?”

Startled, Shirayuki hid her phone behind her back in reflex. “Oh, uh,” she looked up and down at her flatmate, who just burst into the room. “Is-is there anything different?”

Obi pouted. “Really? You don’t notice anything?” Shirayuki shook her head.

“Mina from the reception scolded me for my chapped lips and gave me her lip gloss.” Then Obi continued talking while pursing his lips. “Dun’t ui luk kissuble luik this? ”

Shirayuki gave him a flat look. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

Obviously, this was not the reaction Obi was hoping for. His act dropped. “Uh, why?”

“Would you want to kiss yourself like that? You look like you’ve just had greasy fried chicken for lunch! That kind of thing only makes your lips even drier!”

Shirayuki got up from where she was perched on the sofa and stormed to her room, leaving her flatmate dumbfounded in the middle of the living room. A few seconds later she came back and without warning attacked Obi’s lips rather aggressively with a tissue. Then she thrust a small thing into his hand.

“Use this if your lips are chapped,” she grumbled.

Obi stared at the alien thing in his hand. It said it was an organic calendula lip balm. He blinked once, twice, “O...kay?” and started applying it onto his lips. Shirayuki folded her hands in front of her chest, pointedly not looking at him.

“Is this better?”

Shirayuki wanted to keep frowning but couldn’t help the little smile blooming on the corner of her mouth. Obi’s lips now looked soft, moist, and most positively, heartbreakingly kissable.

“Much better.”

——————–

Notes:

Alcohol does make everything possible, especially huge hangovers.

It’s a pain in the ass to find a flat in Munich, and interviews as well as trial period for shared apartment are not so uncommon.

Shirayuki’s Dirndl (but in moos-green + fuchsia apron + long-sleeved lacey white blouse).

Obi’s Trachten.

Yuzuri’s Dirndl (more or less).

Lederhose with checked shirt (It’s also an official Tracht, but what Obi and the gang wore just looked touristy).

Just give me a nudge if there are any German words that need to be translated.

#myfanfic #akagami no shirayukihime #obiyuki #flatmate au #this is the longest I've written so far #hope it makes sense #now you know what country they live in

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trashinaglass-archive · 5 years

Text

Best Friends

Harrison and the twins protect you when Tom is out of town.

Warnings: Toxic past relationship mentioned, man hits woman, slut shaming/weight shaming, sexual/cheating mentioned

A/n: I couldn’t find a gif of all of them together so just using a picture. It’s one of my favs.

Staying home while Tom left for filming or press was the worst. Dating him for so long, you would think you’d be used to it by now, but you weren’t. You loved that he was living his dream, but you sometimes wished you could go to everything with him. Just like you were left behind, Harrison, Sam, and Harry were often left behind as well.

You had made great friendships with the boys. Whenever Tom was gone, they were quick to call you up to have a fun night out. That was their first instinct- party and have a fun time and don’t let y/n feel sad or miss Tom too much. You appreciated how thoughtful they were to you.

This night showed you a brand new level of your friendship. The four of you had gotten into a club and sat at one of the tables. You were sat there for a while, watching and laughing and just having a good time before you decided you needed a drink.

“I’m going to the bar, I’ll be right back,” you told Sam as you got up and left. He nodded and let the other boys know. You slid between the bodies of people before you made it to the bar in the back. You took a seat on the stool and waited for a bartender to look your direction.

“I want a painkiller, please,” you told the man and he nodded hurrying off to make your drink. As you were waiting, you felt a body come close to you.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” he said sneeringly. He put one arm on the back of your stool and the other on the table in front of you, staring at hole into your head.

“Leave me alone,” you told him softly refusing to look at him. He was your ex-boyfriend, the only boyfriend you’d had before Tom. He was a manipulative, abusive man, and you wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

“I don’t think you deserve to be left alone. Looking as fucking slutty as you do, someone deserves to tap that ass tonight.” He knew the words to say to get under your skin, and he refused to let you out of his sight feeling confident. He wanted to make you cry, that’s just who he is.

He chuckled as you sat there. You didn’t say anything to him and refused to acknowledge him at all. “How’s that new boyfriend of yours?” You tensed as he brought Tom up. You didn’t care what he said about you, but he has no right to say anything about Tom.

“He’s perfect. Everything you could never be,” you said looking straight. You saw his jaw clinch in your peripheral view.

“He hasn’t learned what a fat ass cunt you are? He could do so much better, you know? He’s practically the most popular movie star in the world now, and he’s settling with your ugly ass?” He continued to get under your skin. You thought of Tom and how much he loves you and try to block out your ex’s words.

“Isn’t he away filming some other movie right now? In a whole other country? I’m sure he’s finding some fine ass right about now. Think about it logically, why would he care to be loyal to a scumbag little whore like you when he can find some chick in the States that’s hotter and a better fuck than you could ever be.” The bar tender had placed your drink in front of you. You stared at it as you tried to calm your breathing. You didn’t know if you wanted to be angry or cry.

“I wonder if he’s found that chick yet, if he’s grabbing her tits like they’re the most amazing thing he’s ever seen- I mean it’s not like you have any. I wonder if he’s taking the time to eat her out or if he just skipped to ramming the fuck out of that pussy,” he continued and you’d had enough. He pushed him away from you as you jumped down from the stool and slapped him across the face. He looked away for a second before he smiled and started walking towards where you tried to walk away. He turned you around and punched you in the face causing you to fall to the ground crying in pain.

Just as you fell on the floor, you heard Harrison, Harry, and Sam come up behind you. They noticed you were gone for pretty long time and wanted to check up on you. They were not prepared for the scene they found.

“You prick,” Harrison said as he grabbed your ex’s shoulder making him face him and punched him in the face as well. He delivered multiple blows before bouncers were there to pick him up and carry him out of the club. Harry picked you up and you held your face as he carried you out of the club as well, Sam following behind quickly. They sat you on the ground and looked at your face as you tried to calm down your crying. You saw Harrison standing up talking to a bouncer trying to explain what happened. The cops were eventually called and your ex was arrested for assauting a woman.

“Who was that, what happened?” Sam asked you, his voice filled with concern and a hint a anger. None of you could believe what had just happened. You weren’t surprised, however, knowing how the guy was.

“It was my ex-boyfriend. He was literally the devil in disguise,” you said as Harrison and Harry both huffed.

“Yeah.” “I can believe that.”

“When I was waiting for my drink, he came up to me and started talking about how ugly and fat I am and how Tom must be somewhere fucking another girl right now because I’m not good enough for him,” you said as you began to cover your face and cry some more. Harrison and Harry joined Sam on the ground next to you.

“Y/n, you know that’s not true. Tom loves you, and he would never do anything to hurt you, especially go out and cheat,” Harrison reassured you, rubbing your back as you were slouched over.

“He’s so crazy in love with you, even when I try to talk to him about football, he still finds a way to make the conversation about you,” Harry tried to make you laugh. You appreciated having them there to help you. You had stopped crying but your nose still hurt. You touched it lightly as Sam watched you intently.

“You want to stop by the hospital and get that checked out?” He suggested. You thought about it. It hurt but when you touched it, it didn’t feel broken.

“No, I just want to head home and sleep,” you told them feeling exhausted. They all nodded their heads and Sam helped you up. He offered a piggy back ride which you gratefully accepted. Sam told you that the three of them were going to stay with you tonight in case you needed anything. You thought it was silly, but you understood it was because they love you and accepted the offer.

Once you made it home, you went straight to your room. You went into the bathroom connected to your room and gasped at the bruise on your face. Your entire nose was black and blue with green edges surounding it. You went to touch it again, feeling the sides of it. Besides the pain, it felt perfectly intact. You text Harrison asking if he could bring you an ice pack for your nose. A few seconds later, Harrison walked in with said ice pack wrapped in a small towel.

“Here you are, gorgeous,” Harrison said handing you the ice pack and sitting on the bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you said softly as you placed it on your nose.

“You know, the boys and I were talking about who was going to call Tom to tell him what happened,” Harrison let you know. “We know you probably would like to be the one, but since it just happened and emotions might be everywhere, we thought we would call and let him know tonight, and you can call him in the morning to talk it over.”

You took in the information from Harrison. You desperately wanted to talk to Tom, hear his voice, but deep down you know that as soon as your heard him, you would break down crying. You weren’t in a good place, and Haz was right. You needed a night to sleep it off and regain your composure before you talked to Tom again.

“Okay,” you told him. “Can you at least call him on speaker so I can hear him too?” You asked him. “If he asks where I am, tell him I’m sleeping.”

“Okay, do you want the twins in here as we call him?”

You nodded your head and Harrison went to get them. You thought it was strange, but you really just didn’t want to be alone. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done if they hadn’t decided to stay with you for the night.

The boys came in, Harrison reclaiming his spot on the bed while Harry and Sam sat next to him. You felt Sam put a comforting hand on your leg as they dialed Tom’s number. The phone rang a couple times before he answered.

“Hey, what’s up bro?” Tom said immediately.

“Hey, so something happened tonight. She’s okay! But we just wanted to let you know so you weren’t in the dark,” Harrison started. You could almost hear the eyes popping out of Tom’s head.

“What do you mean something happened? Is y/n okay?”

“She’s okay now. Um so we went to a club tonight to just party and have fun and y/n went to the bar to get a drink. She told us that while she was waiting for the bartender to make it for her, her ex-boyfriend came up to her and he was telling her lies about her looks and calling her names and then started telling her that you were probably off cheating on her and that you, the movie star, could do better than her,” Harrison began telling him.

“What the hell? Who the hell does he think he is?” Tom said thinking that was the worst of it. Sam and Harry both slightly looked at you as you had you face buried in your duvet, not wanting to know how he’d react to what Harrison was going to say next.

“Tom... that’s not even the half of it,” Harrison said with a humorless laugh. “You know y/n will stick up for herself and she had finally had enough so she slapped him in the face.”

“He bloody deserved it,” you heard Tom mutter.

“But then he turned around and punched her in the face,” Harrison finally told him. The line on the other end was quiet. You closed your eyes as you waited for a reply, Sam tightened his grip on your leg doing the same.

“I’m going to fucking kill that piece of shit,” Tom finally said darkly. There was no questioning the anger in his voice.

“Yeah, we’re right there with you,” Harry said joining the conversation. “Harrison got a few good licks in on him before they arrested the dick for hitting her.”

“Where is y/n, let me talk to her,” Tom insisted. He didn’t want to believe you were okay until he heard your voice.

“She went straight to her room when we got back. We checked on her before we called, she’s sound asleep. I didn’t wake her because she needs a good shut eye after the night she endured,” Harrison explained to him looking at you. You nodding, silently thanking him for that.

“That’s fine,” Tom said reluctantly. “How did she look? Did he do any damage?”

“Her entire nose is bruised up, but it’s not broken. So, she’s okay, no serious damage. Just some bruising.” You heard Tom sigh and reposition himself. You could almost picture him leant over with his hands on his knees and his free hand rubbing his eyes.

“Alright, have her call me tomorrow as soon as she wakes up. And don’t leave her alone, please. Make sure she’s okay until I can be with her,” Tom basically begged.

“Of course, we all already planned to stay with her. She’s in the best care right now,” Sam told him.

“Thanks guys, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you for doing this.”

“No, she’s basically a sister to us now. We’d protect her with our lives if we had too,” Harrison said. “Or at least I know I would.”

“I would absolutely protect her with Sam’s life if I had too,” Harry said hoping to make everyone laugh in the dark situation.

“I appreciate that. Let me know if anything happens and remember to make sure she’s calls me when she wakes up,” Tom repeated. “And I really appreciate you all telling me.”

“No problem, I know if it was my girlfriend and I was away, I’d want to know too,” Harrison told him. “You try to get a good night’s sleep tonight, I know you probably won’t. But try.”

“I will. Thanks again for the call.”

“Welcome, bro. Bye,” Harrison said as he ended the phone call.

“Bye,” Tom repeated as you heard the call end.

“Do you need anything else before we get out of your hair?” Sam asked you sweetly. You shook your head but looked at Harrison.

“Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be by myself,” you told him sheepishly.

“Yeah, of course. Just let me help the twins get set up in the living room, and I’ll be right back,” he told you. You nodded your head and got more comfortable in your bed. You found yourself wishing Tom was here and not away from you. Then you didn’t have to be so scared because he would be with you. You love and trust Harrison and the twins so much, but you just didn’t have the same bond and connection with them as you do with Tom.

You heard Harrison walk back in, “do you want the door opened or closed?” He asked you.

“Closed,” you told him before he closed it. You watched him as he walked to the other side of your bed. He took off his jacket and laid it on the floor. He asked you if you cared if he took his pants off to sleep. You shook your head; you know better than anyone how uncomfortable jeans are to sleep in. He crawled in your bed layed on his back opening his arms to you. You scooted closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder as he held you, rubbing your back. You fell asleep feeling comforted and safe.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed. You rubbed your eyes and flinched when you softly grazed the bridge of your nose. You grabbed your phone and looked at the time. 8:27a. You saw you had texts from Tom. The first one from last night after he got off the phone with Harrison.

Thomas❤️: Harrison called and told me what happened. I’m so sorry that happened to you, Princess. You deserve nothing but love and adoration and happiness. I don’t know who that kid was, but he is a scumbag that deserves none of your time nor attention. I love you, and I will see you soon to hold you and protect you. I promise😘 sent 11:47p

You felt little tears well up reading that. Tom was the best boyfriend in the world, and you were so lucky to have him.

Thomas❤️: Good morning, Princess. I hope you slept much better than I did. Please call me as soon as you wake up. I love you so much, darling. sent 6:57a

You held your phone as you stood up walking to the bathroom. You looked in the mirror. The bruise was at least 4 times darker and more painful than it was last night. You sighed and threw your head back. ‘No outside world for me anymore’ you thought bitterly. You were also suppose to get lunch with Nikki today, but you don’t know if you can walk out with this huge contusion on your face.

You looked at your phone and took a breath as you hit the call button for Tom’s number. You put it on speaker phone and set it on the counter as you sat on the floor of your bathroom.

“Hey, darlin, how are you feeling?” Tom asking as soon as he answered. You smiled thinking about how it barely rang before he answered.

“I’ve been better, not gonna lie,” you said looking at your walls in your bathroom.

“Is your nose hurting bad?”

“I mean yeah, it’s got a huge bruise but other than that it’s fine. I’m just glad it’s not broken.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” Tom asked hesitantly. “The boys told me last night, but I want to hear it from your point of view.” You sat there in quiet for a second thinking it all through. How it all happened last night. Tom took your quiet as not wanting to answer. “If you don’t feel comfortable talking about it that’s fine, you don’t have too.”

“No, I just was trying to recall it all,” you told him. “So I had a run in with my ex-boyfriend. He was the only guy I had ever dated before you. He’s extremely manipulative and.... just a bad person. And he saw me last night and I guess wanted to hurt me one more time? Make me cry one more time? I don’t know. But at first he was talking about me, calling me fat, ugly, slutty, and just about every other insult you could think up. I could take that, you know, I’d heard it from him so many times it wasn’t anything new, and I know myself, I’m secure enough with myself to know those words aren’t true,” you stopped taking a breath. You didn’t want to say the words he said, but you knew saying them would get them out of your mind faster than anything.

“He couldn’t stop at me though, he started talking about you. He said that you are one of the most sought after movie stars and you’re wasting you time settling for someone like me. He said it only made sense that you would go out and find the hottest American chick and fuck her, you’d be going down on her and ramming her into some hotel mattress,” you finished, tears welling in your eyes. You love Tom and you trusted Tom, but hearing those words and thinking of what they meant made your world crash down.

“Y/n, I can promise you that I have never and I will never do that to you. You are the most amazing, kind, smart, talented, beautiful woman I have ever met. I would be damned if I ever did something idiotic like that to lose you. Do you understand that?” Tom asked you assertively.

You nodded and calmed your tears. “I do,” you told him. “I trust you more than I trust myself. I don’t believe you would ever do something like that, but just the picture he put in my mind was so sickening, I could handle it.”

“So you slapped him?” Tom encouraged you to keep talking.

“Yeah,” You said quietly alerting Tom.

“And he hit you after that?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you know he was going to hit you if you hit him?” Tom asked you dreading the answer. You were quiet for a few more seconds before you answered.

“Yes.”

It was Tom’s turn to be quiet. He loved you with all his heart, and he couldn’t believe what had happened to you. You had found yourself caught up with a man that hurt you and broke you, and you still couldn’t escape his grasp. The fact that you were expecting to get hit by that guy made Tom’s blood boil.

“You know if I ever see that shit, I’m not going to stop myself from attacking him?”

“I don’t doubt you,” you told him. “But I’d rather you not get arrested or put on some news outlet because of that asshole.”

“I’d take it if it meant protecting you from a fucker like that,” Tom said more to himself than to you. “I got a plane that will get me to you late tomorrow night. I’m sorry I can’t be there sooner,” he explained.

You shook your head. “It’s fine, I might just stay in your room at Nikki’s house until you get here.”

“Are you scared to be alone?” Tom asked you concerned.

“I don’t know if it’s that I’m scared, but I know that I’m just super uncomfortable. I don’t want to be alone. Harrison stayed with me last night, and I don’t know if I would have slept if he weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry, Princess. You’re absolutely welcome to stay in my room. Mum and Dad will take good care of you and Tessa will give you all the cuddles until I get back.” You smiled at the thought of it.

“Yeah, that sounds great right now.”

“I’ll call Mum and let her know you’re gonna be staying,” Tom told you with a smile. He felt much more comfortable knowing you would be at his home surrounded by people that loved you rather than by yourself in your one bedroom apartment.

“Thanks, Tommy. I love you,” you told him.

“I love you too, baby girl. So much,” Tom said with a smile and waited for you to hang up. Once you finished your call you stood up and made your way to the living room where you saw Harrison, Harry, and Sam on the couch eating pancakes.

“Morning, y/n! There’s a plate of pancakes on the stove for you,” Harrison let you know.

“The Harrison special? You shouldn’t have,” You said as you made your way to the kitchen and picked up the plate of pancakes.

“I only make them for my favorite girl,” Harrison said smiling at you. “Just don’t be disappointed when I get a girlfriend and make them for her instead of you.” Everyone laughed at Harrison’s joke. You sat down on the couch between the twins.

“Have you called Tom?” Harry asked.

“I did, and it looks like I’ll be staying with the Holland’s for a while,” you told Sam and Harry looking at them.

“Perfect! I always wanted a sister to fuck with,” Harry said.

I actually loved this? I’m thinking about making a part 2 with Tom present. Let me know if I should or shouldn’t. I also forgot time zones were a thing and they wouldn’t be sleeping at the same time, but just roll with it.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader

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randomwordprompts · 5 years

Text

If It’s Magic Chapter 8

Daaaaaam, this took forever! Does anyone still care about this story? If so here’s 3k words of plot development(?) Anyways if you wanna be added to my taglist just let me know!

Warnings: Eh, people get punched and they curse. We grown outchea.

Taglist: @storibambino @soufcakmistress @bakarilennox @babygirlofwakanda @wakandas-vibranium @wakandan-flowerz @great-neckpectations @yaachtynoboat711 @oceanscorazon @reaperdeldrunk

“Daniel, either let me pass or get your ass beat like that big nigga about to get.”

Amira brought her gaze from Daniel to the towering male some feet behind him, keeping a safe distance. Xavier’s eyes widened before he spoke back to her.

“Beat my ass?! Didn’t you do that enough the other day when you busted my lip?”

She growled at Xavier and went to push past Daniel only to have him hold her back, though with no small amount of difficulty.

“What did you do to me, you piece of shit?!”

“I didn’t DO anything! I’ve been here or in class and actively avoiding your crazy ass for the past two days!!”

Amira stilled in Daniel’s grip and stared at Xavier for a moment before she replied, “Then why the fuck did I hear you calling out for me not 2 hours ago?”

Xavier’s face paled for a moment as he realized something but didn’t say what it was. Amira immediately noticed the change and ducked out of Daniel’s arms to walk towards him, craning her neck to meet his gaze before speaking again.

“What. Did. You. Do.”

“Well, um...I might’ve tried to manifest your aura while I was masturbating,” Xavier rushed out his explanation in one breath but that didn’t stop Amira from hearing exactly what he said.

“PORQUE?!”

Just when Xavier opened his mouth in an attempt to explain further, Daniel burst into laughter from the door that he’d closed during this time.

“Nigga, you did what now? How the hell did that even happen?”

Xavier sighed and tried to be as brief as possible about what was now an embarrassing topic.

Xavier paced his room stressed and hungry, though not for food. Truth be told, he missed Amira. He’d been missing her since she’d first broke things off and after what he’d said to her a few days ago he knew she’d probably never speak to him again. He thought about her lips and how she loved to kiss him, the plushness of her body and she felt like a living marshmallow every time he held her in his arms. How her smile was like the sunshine that chased away the darkness of his thoughts. Before long he began thinking of all the things that drove him crazy about the petite succubus when he remembered something her mother had told them about their bond.

“If one of you reaches out for the other hard enough, you can pull on or manifest the energy of your mate.”

Of course she was referring to if one couldn’t find the other or was missing them, but at this point Xavier was hungry and knew that her aura would be more than enough to satisfy his urges until he found a human to feed from that wasn’t clingy, crazy, or in search of commitment. So he decided to apply that same technique while pleasuring himself and found himself quite surprised with the results. It was like he could hear her in the throes of pleasure, feel her on top of him, and feel himself inside of her. Before he knew it he was moaning her name, urging her to say his. Just when he was about to reach his peak he heard her voice call back to him, his eyes rolling back as he spilled his release into his hand.

“Let me get this straight,” Daniel started. “Y’all can think of each other hard enough to feel and hear the other when you’re not nearby?! I’d like to sign up to be a sex demon today, please.”

Xavier snorted a bit and Amira shot them both a glare before turning to leave, tired of them both.

“Well that was riveting but don’t do again or so help me I will come back here and kill you both.”

“ Both?!” Daniel’s eyes grew wide.

“No witnesses. Nothing personal,” Amira said with a devilish smile.

…

Jason called Amira for the 4th time that night, sighing when he was sent to voicemail yet again. He kept replaying what he said to her in his head and the more he did, the worse he felt. It also took him back to when they first talked about the very thing he threw back in her face.

“So tell me, does being a succubus really mean you’re incapable of monogamy?”

Amira paused her writing and met Jason’s gaze with a raised brow, searching his face for the intention behind the question. Once she realized he was genuinely curious she sighed and pushed her laptop to the side.

“Succubi are just as capable of having monogamous relationships as anyone else. The thing is, our biology causes us to also need to feed off the sexual energy of others. It’s rare, but a succubus sometimes picks a partner that she feeds from exclusively for life. They normally marry but even if they don’t, they still stay together. What you just mentioned is a stereotype made by some white man hundreds of years ago in an attempt to paint us as nothing but sex crazed demons, unworthy of love. Is that how you see me?”

“No, of course not. I think you deserve all the love you can handle..”

They exchanged smiles before Amira leaned over and kissed him sweetly, each time feeling better than the first for him.

…

One Month Later, Halloween

“So is Jason coming tonight?” Lucy asked Amira as they got dressed in their dorm.

Amira smirked as she put on her suit jacket, adjusting her bra so that she didn’t have too much cleavage out or end up with a wardrobe malfunction. Buttoning her jacket she walked over to her dresser and grabbed her blood-red lipstick before she answered.

“Yes, and I have a bad feeling about it. You know Xavier’s going to be there and I don’t need a dick measuring contest at the fundraiser.”

The fundraiser in question was a haunted house and escape room hosted by the BSU to raise money and increase campus involvement. Mostly everyone was involved in some way, with Amira deciding to take on an administrative role and make sure they stayed within their budget while giving a fun night. So far they’d raised almost two-thousand dollars in advance tickets, expecting at least another 500 at the door.

As Amira got ready to tell her roommate what could go wrong her phone rang, signaling a video call from her siblings. After applying a quick coat of her lipstick she answered, grinning when she was met with the faces of her older siblings.

“Well hello, titties!” Francois said with a snicker.

Amira snorted a laugh before shooting back, “You mad you ain’t got these titties, I understand.”

Lucy cackled in the background before leaving the room to get her shoes, leaving the three to talk. Jonathan spoke next.

“You both look like religious spoopy thots, there’s no competition.”

Both Amira and Francois smiled at that before they were interrupted by the familiar stern voice of their father.

“If you three are done, tell your sister that we’re outside.”

Amira chuckled before propping her phone up and checking her hair, curly tresses currently under a straight jet black wig that stopped in the middle of her back. She grabbed her white choker and secured it to her throat, silver cross laying beautifully in the center of her clavicle as she yelled to let Lucy know her family was downstairs waiting. Grabbing her black open-toe stilettos and putting them on, Amira disconnected the call and grabbed her clutch before stepping out of her room.

The rest of the Lectors waited downstairs in the lobby, ready to see their youngest in person. Francois was clad in a slutty nun costume, which was comprised of a black latex bodysuit with a white cross on the chest and matching fake habit adorning their head along with white thigh-high boots while Jonathan was dressed as a possessed catholic bishop. He sported an all-black suit with a black shirt that was open at the top three buttons, revealing more of his pale skin while his hair was dyed black at the roots and red throughout. His belt was cinched around his jacket just enough to reveal his tapered waist, topping the costume off with a red patch on the cuff of his sleeve and a silver cross pendant that stopped just past the fourth button of his shirt. Their parents opted for a classic Dracula and his wives costume, looking as if they stepped out of Bram Stoker’s movie or even the modern version of Van Helsing. When the elevator opened Amira and Lucy stepped out, the former dressed as a priest and the latter as an undead maid since she was going to be in the haunted house.

Before she could sneak up on them Diana ran over and hugged her daughter with a happy squeal. What followed was more hugs from the rest of her family, a reintroduction to Lucy, and a quick catch-up before they left for the festivities.

…

Once they were at the fundraiser Lucy went into the house with the others so they could get into their designated places before everything opened. Amira was talking with her family when Xavier walked by, offering an awkward wave that was met with an eye roll and Francois flipping him off. He sighed as he made his way into the house, making a mental note to try and talk to Amira soon.

After their parents went to see what else was going on for the night, Amira turned to Francois to say something only to be met with a sight of a man approaching them followed by a loud string of Quebecois curses leaving her oldest brother’s mouth plus a push past her and Jonathan to meet him halfway. She looked at her other brother for a moment before realization dawned on her.

“That’s Felix, isn’t it…”

“Yup.”

“We should probably go over there before Fran strangles him.”

“Probably.”

With that, they followed Francois who was just about to scream at the towering male only stopped by Amira jumping in front of them.

“Oi, you stalking my brother?”

Felix looked down at her, blue eyes meeting brown ones as Francois was behind her stewing.

“Actually, I was invited. Imagine my surprise when a lovely woman told me you all would be here!”

“A woman?! Who-...did she have a Jamaican accent?”

Felix nodded and Amira burst into a fit of laughter as Francois now turned away to find their parents, specifically their mother given how they shrieked for her loud enough to be heard 2 blocks away. Jonathan was laughing with Amira, the two of them wheezing and coughing at this point at the realization that Pauline had tipped Felix off so he’d come. Once they caught their breath Amira took the 6’6 man by the arm and steered him in the direction of where Francois had stormed off to.

“Let’s go big man, I don’t wanna miss this,” she said as the sounds of Francois and Pauline’s voices grew louder, now arguing in full-blown Patois.

...

After finally calming things down between Francois and Pauline, Amira went back to help some of her fellow BSU members do last-minute touches to the vending stands. While she was talking to one of the workers at the popcorn stand she heard another one gasp before pointing towards a figure behind her with a look of pure shock.

“Is that Jason Momoa?!”

Amira chuckled and said goodbye to them before turning to walk towards the man in question with a smile, his werewolf costume obviously not taking much effort.

"How very original, Wolfman. You look good."

"I do, but not nearly as good as you. Are you supposed to be catholic?"

"I'm a priest! Just call me Padre," Amira remarked with a wiggle of her brows.

"Alright you two, keep your hormones in check, there are old people present," Jonathan said just as they were about to kiss, Jason giving a puzzled look to the young male that was flanked by the rest of the family.

At the sight of the six individuals plus Felix he was slightly confused for a moment until his eyes fell to Diana, immediately spotting the resemblance to Amira. Looking back to her he let out "This is your family?" with no small amount of shock.

“Yeah, everyone here is my family except for the tall Black dude. That’s Frankie’s future husband.” Amira remarked with a grin, prompting Felix’s brows to shoot up before he gave a rather sheepish smile. Francois, however, didn’t find the statement amusing.

Jason looked at Amira then her family and back to her, multiple questions swirling in his expression. Amira frowned a bit, sensing his energy shift though he quickly covered it with a nervous smile and a pleasant “nice to meet you all” towards the Lectors.

…

After some light conversation while they waited in line for the haunted house the group of nine were finally at the front getting ready to go in. The person at the door warned them of jumpscares and flashing lights, making sure to emphasize that all the participant’s costumes were well done and that if they can’t handle people jumping out and grabbing them they shouldn’t go in. Everyone agreed that they were fine and began the trek through the darkened hallways, faint screams being heard almost immediately.

While everyone went a bit ahead Jason gently pulled Amira’s arm to keep her behind with him, leaning down to quietly speak to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a blended family?”

“Because my family isn’t blended? And is this really the time to be asking me about this? I think it can wait till after we get out of here,” she replied as they slowly walked through, Amira not being phased when someone dressed as a zombie jumped out and reached for her with a snarl.

Jason looked at her with another question that she quickly answered before it left his lips.

“My father is married to all three of them currently, and each one gave birth to myself and my brothers. Unlike in America, that’s legal up north despite being frowned upon socially.”

“Wait, so...all three of those women agreed to marry your father and live together? You don’t find that a little odd at all?”

Amira stopped in her tracks and turned to face Jason completely, her eyes turned to slits as she squinted up at him.

“What are you getting at, Jason? Just say it.”

“Well, ya know...I’ve seen stories about this kind of stuff. Men that trick women into marrying them and make them dependent on him so that they don’t leave.”

She looked at him as if she wanted to grab him and rip his tongue out of his mouth for even insinuating that her father was holding his wives hostage, but for the sake of not making a scene, she simply turned around and began to walk away.

Jason internally kicked himself and sighed as he watched her walk ahead of him, deciding to give her some space as they continued to go through the house and try not to jump at the people that came out of corners and crevices of the place. As they walked on, he got a little closer to Amira and tried to apologize for what he’d said earlier only to have someone dressed as a zombie pop out and grab at them. Before he could stop himself he punched the person on reflex, making both Amira and her family stop in their tracks as they heard a familiar voice yell out in pain before the person lifted his face and Amira felt her heart sink to her stomach.

“Xavier?!”

“Mira what the hell?! I know I fucked up but could you keep your damn bodyguard away from me??”

Jason stepped in front of her with his chest poked out in a traditional display of male ego, ready to give a rebuttal immediately.

“As her boyfriend, I suggest you back up, kid!”

Xavier looked at him for a moment, a small stream of blood trickling from his nose. He regarded Jason for a moment before pulling his fist back and catching Jason in the jaw, the crack audible enough to elicit a quick “oh shit” from Amira’s siblings in the back. Before she could stop them, they started to swing at each other and fight until they were on the floor nearly wrestling. It wasn’t until Amira yelled loud enough to wake up the dead that they stopped in their tracks.

“Alright, that’s enough! You two are grown-ass men rolling around on the floor in a fucking HAUNTED HOUSE for what?! Me? My honor?? I didn’t ask either one of you to fight for me because I don’t need either one of you dumbasses to do it!!”

They both opened their mouths to speak but were cut off by a small hand held up between them.

“I’m not finished. Now Xavier, you wanna sit here and whine and moan like because you apologized that’s supposed to just get me back or change what the fuck you did. I love you but I don’t just forgive anyone at the drop of a hat and the fact that you thought that would happen is stupid as all hell!”

Jason snorted a bit until she turned to him fully to give her a piece of her mind.

“And as for you bigfoot, you think you’re off the hook?! First, you accuse me of fucking Xavier while we’ve been together when the thought never even crossed my mind. Then, you suggest that because I’m a fucking demon I have no got damn self-control. And after all of that, you suggest to me that my father is some kind of horrible man that has to hold his wives hostage in order to keep them around!”

“Excuse me?!” was the sound that followed Amira’s statement and she looked to her family to find all three of the women in question looking at Jason with no small amount of incredulity. Without another word she shook her head and stepped over the two, moving her family towards the exit, Felix holding Francois back as they yelled and went to lunge at Jason rather violently.

Xavier shook his head and stood up before reaching down and giving Jason a hand up, noting the look of surprise on his face. He wiped the blood from his nose on his sleeve and eyed Jason warily before finally speaking, the pain in his voice clear.

“Listen, Amira is a great person and an amazing partner. I can only hope that one day I’ll earn her trust back but until then make sure she’s happy, yeah?”

“I hear you, bro. Also, I’m sorry about your nose...I swear I was just reacting.”

“Honestly I had it coming so don’t even worry about it. Plus it’s already healed with me not being human and all,” Xavier said with a dry chuckle.

Jason extended his hand for a shake and Xavier accepted, the two coming to a bit of an understanding before Jason would leave to try and catch up to Amira and properly apologize to both her and her family.

#randomwordprompts #my work #Amira & Xavier #the lectors #if it's magic #original characters #my writing

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foreverbeingthunderbuddy · 6 years

Text

Just Say It [one-shot]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Prompt: “Not to be dramatic, but I am going to die if we don’t do something … like now.”

Summary: Tony throws a Halloween party – the first ever for the reader. What to wear when you want to impress your superhero crush, Steve, but also want to hold on to your dignity? light, fluff, and one or two cuss words ;)

A/N: This is my piece for @starksparker’s 10k Writing Challenge! I’m so so sorry this is coming so late :// Prompt is in bold. Also first time I wrote for Steve so please don’t kill me :) Word count around 5,5k. Gif by @drunkromanogers .

Masterlist

Until you moved to New York, Halloween was never really a big thing for you.

Your little group of friends in your hometown never bothered throwing an actual party or attending one, it was always more like a coming-together while wearing cat ears and eat chips in candlelight kind of thing. Of course a scary movie would play on TV and you’d spend your night screaming at too many badly done jumpscares while your friends would laugh and talk about how badly done these jumpscares were.

You like to think you never went to a party dressed like a slutty bunny because you are better than that, but behind that carefully built wall of denial you know it’s because you never got invited.

So? There are worse things in life.

For instance, being invited by your boss Tony fucking Stark to come to his probably way-over-the-top Halloween party with no Halloween party-experience on your side whatsoever. Do people still go slutty these days or are scary costumes actually in now? Should you come alone or bring someone? Besides, for a party of that scale, do people even put on costumes or is that just an excuse to have another sinful fête (how May, your supervisor, always calls it) and everyone wears the usual glamour and glitz-attire?

Google doesn’t seem to be able to give a clear answer.

Another question. Assuming people actually go scary nowadays, what could you wear that would both showcase your funny, spontaneous side by committing to a creative, spooky outfit, and your sexy, I’m-single-too-must-be-destiny side by, well, wearing something sexy?

Even though sexy isn’t usually the style you feel most comfortable in, a party is a party and a party whose guest will be Steve “strongest BDE” Rogers calls for special actions.

“Before I forget, have you finally figured out your costume for the party next week?” Roxie asks and takes a sip from the cup filled with hot chocolate in her hands. Her dark eyes roam over your face curiously, eager not to miss the smallest hint of emotion. Roxie knows about your crush on Steve.

“Nope. Last night I had a drink, or four, and I thought it’d be super funny if I showed up as Captain America. With a shield and angry eyes and everything. But then I thought, maybe that’s weird to dress up as … Steve basically to impress said Steve.” Your last words hang in the air like a question and you see Roxie raise her eyebrows.

“Odd mating call, I have to admit,” She says and breaks into a grin but collects herself when you threateningly lift your index finger. “But of course, I, too, think that’d be a great idea. Or you don’t dress up as an Avenger when going to a party hosted by the Avengers. Just a suggestion.”

You sigh and look down into your own cup on the table in front of you. You’re sitting in your little kitchen, both gulping down hot chocolate like it’s water and listening to old songs playing on the radio.

She came straight from the hair salon to show off her now super short hair à la Danai Jekesai Gurira and you spent the last fifteen minutes admiring every single inch of it. And then you spent another ten minutes praising the white eyeliner she’s wearing that builds the perfect contrast to her dark skin and got all the details about the collection that “Never gonna buy anywhere else, Y/N, I’m serious”-eyeliner comes from.

“What if- I mean, we know Steve lived in the 40s right, so what if you went all retro and dressed up as someone from the fourties or fifties? That’s trendy nowadays and you like old stuff, right?” Roxie asks and you don’t miss the teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“You like old stuff?” was the exact question she asked the moment you told her you fell for Steve Rogers. She didn’t intend to be mean, she just wanted to provoke you out of your Finally-we-have-world-peace, trance-like state that you were in during the first weeks of having a thing, a huge thing, for him.

“Isn’t he like a hundred years old?”

“Um, no, I mean, uh- no. He didn’t age, Roxie, not his fault he was frozen.”

“….. Imagine the diseases he could have. I’m sure a hundred years ago diseases were different. I don’t think our modern bodies are made for 40s’ STDs. You could die.”

“Um, I don’t think our bodies are made for any kind of STD but that’s not the point.”

She has admitted she finds him kinda hot, too, but she’s too proud to go any further than that. Sometimes you wish you could read her mind. Or more accurately, all the time.

“Yes, I like old stuff. Old music and clothes, everyone does. It’s called vintage,” You say and try to distract her before she gets the chance to start philosophizing about Steve’s STDs again.

Alleged STDs. She has no proof he actually has them and you’re definitely not going to tell her that he probably was a virgin until he woke up in the modern day. Again, no proof, but people talk and people speculate, especially people who work for Stark in the Tower or Upstate Facility and who regularly pick up a couple of words and sentences here and there, making six out of two and two.

You probably shouldn’t believe anything that gets exchanged in the daily Stark Industries gossip meetings in the hallways and kitchens but … believing Steve didn’t bang his way through the country in the 40s does help calm your jealousy a bit. A tiny bit.

You know he had girlfriends since starting to work for Tony but a girl can ignore that and wait ‘til she’s home and has a glass of wine in her hand before she turns to google to figure out what the “Ten Signs He Likes You” are. Preferably, there’s a phone in her other hand and her best friend (Roxie) on the line.

Cliché, you know, but … there’s a reason why these things are cliché, they’re just too fitting. And relatable. Roxie disagrees.

“But just imagine. You, in a 1940s vintage style tea dress, grey tartan, short sleeve. Black T-Strap Pumps, but sexy. I’m talking five inch heels. You’re going to a Halloween party, not church. Ooh! And one of those little hats that women wore on the side of their heads. And red lipstick, heavy eye make-up, some rouge. Did they have anything else? A highlighter?”

“You look remarkably excited about your vintage ideas for someone who doesn’t like old stuff,” You comment but can’t hide a smile. Your best friend is a stylist first and a lawyer second. Only the latter professionally, but the former at heart. If you let her, she would give you a complete make-over. Needless to say, the thought alone scares the shit out of you. She is just too unpredictable.

“Y/N, maybe try to contribute to this brainstorming, would you, I’m trying to get you somewhere.”

*****

You shouldn’t have made brownies. What made you think bringing brownies to a Tony Stark party was a good idea? You are going to make a fool out of yourself if you walk in there with two loads of self-made goods in your hands. What made you think this was “cool and spontaneous”?

Ah, yeah, right. Ally told you this year’s party wouldn’t be held in one of Tony’s mansions or the Tower. Due to some mild excesses last year, Tony – and the various authorities involved, yikes – has decided to keep it small and personal this year. His words, not yours. The party will be at someone’s apartment in New York where you live, but rumour has it that that someone is loaded as fuck, so apartment probably doesn’t apply entirely.

Read: a gigantic loft.

The fact that there aren’t going to be as many people here as you thought, makes you a little nervous because your anonymity and option of turning invisible, if everything gets too much, go downhill the minute you step through the front door. Hard to disappear without leaving if there’s hardly any space to disappear into.

Why the brownies?

How Ally put it, it sounded like this is a cozy, little get-together among friends and bringing something is usually what you do when you’re invited to something like that, right? Right?? Roxie talked you into it, to be honest.

“Men love those!” She screamed whilst wildly pointing at the freshly baked goods on the counter, “Everybody loves chocolate caramel layer scares, trust me. He won’t know what’s happening to him.”

Ha. You can guess what’s going to happen to him if he tries more than one of these: diabetes. Not that you told her that.

It’s fine, Y/N, it’s gonna be fine, just drop the brownies on the diamond counter and never get near the kitchen again, so no one will suspect any connection between you and these health risks.

You take a deep breath and one last look at the intimidating building in front of you before you start walking to the entrance. It’s been a while since you last wore heels, but thankfully Roxie doesn’t just understand style but also comfort and picked a pair that looks and feels good. You shouldn’t get too optimistic, though, the evening hasn’t even begun yet.

Before you reach the glass door, you see your own reflexion in the dim street lights.

Your outfit is exactly what she envisioned in your kitchen, grey, very 40s, very femme fatale and tight on the right places. She even got you one of those “little hats women wore on the side of their heads”. Her sister Florence took care of your make-up which means you have your face all done up, smokey eyes, lashes who aren’t exactly your own, dewy cheeks and serious red lipstick.

To add a tiny scary factor, Roxie and Florence put some fake blood on your stomach area to make it look like you got stabbed, some on the side of your head where the hat sits – “Someone crashed the hat needles into your skull, Y/N, and blood is dripping down your temple” – and on one corner of your mouth.

You wish you could have taken Roxie with you as your plus one, but Ally said no companion – small circle. Well, judging by the music already coming from a window on the, what, sixth floor (?) small circle means something entirely different to Tony. Who knows how many people he invited.

You step into the building and walk to the reception. Yes, you heard right. Reception. This is going to be fancy, you can tell. Doesn’t help your goddamn nervousness. The box in your hands gets heavier and heavier the longer you hold it and there’s one needle attaching the hat to your head that just pokes into your scalp like it’s holding on for dear life. You need to fix that as soon as you find a bathroom.

Nothing in this lobby hints at the ongoing party or its theme, everything looks as sterile as possible. Not Tony’s style, admittedly, but you guess he had trouble with the neighbours, so he refrained from decorating everything.

“Good evening, Miss, can I help you?” The man behind the desk asks and looks up to you over his round little glasses. Is that a smile or just a coincidental shadow illusion on his face?

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I was invited to Tony Stark’s Halloween party,” You answer (um look at my costume?) and try another smile that doesn’t get reciprocated, instead he nods and pulls up a piece of paper that looks like a list. Oh, there’s a smiling pumpkin candle on his desk, right next to the little box of paperclips. Mister Dead Inside rebelling against the stuck up neighbours, what a nice touch.

Within a few seconds he finds your name, puts a check mark behind it and meets your eyes again with a sober look on his face.

“The elevator is over there, the party is on the fifth floor, 1-0-3-1 is the code for tonight. I hope you’ll have a very nice evening, Miss Y/L/N.”

I hope so, too.

You thank him and walk to where he pointed, punch the numbers into the little keyboard on the wall and step into the opening elevator. The last thing you see before the doors close is him pulling out what looks like another pumpkin candle from one of his drawers and positioning it on his desk.

There’s no music coming from any speakers in the elevator during your ride up, but there’s definitely music coming from outside the elevator, growing louder and louder the higher you get. Hrrr, your pulse really has no business speeding up like that. It’s not like you’ve never been to a party.

You’ve just never been at a party smaller than Tony’s huge orgies (basically) and therefore never got the chance to talk to Steve with a champagne glass in your hand and no “I have to go save the world now, sorry, dear” between you two. All you know is Business Steve, stern eyes, determined eyebrows, important stuff to do. You have no clue what Private Steve is like. And that’s … kinda scary.

What if Private Steve is a douche? No. He isn’t. You don’t need to know him to know that. But what if Private Steve is boring and stiff (hmm) or … what if he likes to collect stamps or miniature trains? Is there a bigger mood killer in this world than collecting miniature trains and would you be able to stand above it?

Roxie would be of great help right now, it’s a shame you couldn’t bring her.

The doors open and reveal an open, dark hallway that is decorated with spider nets, candles, two skeletons, fake blood on the wall, a couple of pumpkins, a crooked mirror and various dusty boxes and murder equipment. This looks surprisingly awesome. After what you saw in the lobby, your expectations fell to a humble level but this is really cool.

At least a dozen voices can be heard from around the corner and the music is a notch too loud for your liking. You hesitate for another second before entering the apartment and slowly walk around the corner. What you see definitely has Tony Stark written all over it.

Take the decorations from the entrance and multiply it by a hundred. You have never seen this many different candles, and someone really had a blast with the fake spider nets. There is even a broken chandelier hanging from the ceiling, adding to the dim, mysterious atmosphere produced by the candles and blinking chains of lights.

It looks like a great party.

Oh and the people? As diverse as it gets. From vampires, werewolves and witches to pirates, various animals including a giraffe, to cartoon show characters, murdered people, injured people, angry people, to clowns, zombies, princesses, nuns, nurses, monks, angels and devils, the KFC guy and oh, is that one-armed Spongebob?

Looks like people go scary, sexy and funny. Questions answered. Time to drop off the brownies that are still in your hands and that feel like two hundred pounds at this point. No one seems to notice you as you walk past the Power Rangers and follow Ernie and Bert into a hallway that hopefully leads to the kitchen.

It doesn’t. It leads to another hallway with several closed doors which could be bedrooms. Ah. Ernie and Bert want to make out. Your bad. You turn around and walk back to the gigantic living room that in itself looks like a loft and try to make out the way to your admired location.

“Am I having hallucinations or did the 1950s just arrive at my party?” A voice suddenly asks and you jump, not expecting the noise next to you. The person who the voice belongs to turns out to be a black Aladdin, open vest showcasing abs and everything, completed by silver eyeliner and a fake wig to get the typical 1001 Nights Prince’s hair but doesn’t quite fit the rest of his appearance. But who are you to judge a dedicated man’s Halloween costume at his own party?

“Yeah, that actually might be a hallucination because I don’t represent the 50s, but the 40s,” You say and smile, just as Albert Einstein walks past you. Something to tell your grandkids about.

“Oh, I’m sorry M’lady, I got the decade wrong but the costume looks, um, fetching.”

Is this really how people talked in the 40s? Probably not. You laugh and feel a little of your nervousness go. Only a little, but still.

“So this is your party? Can you tell me where the kitchen is then?”

“Over there, next to the skeleton on the wall and the bloody unicorn. Thank you for bringing something, Miss 40s, I really hope this is dessert.”

“It is. Brownies,” You say and watch as Aladdin punches the air in joy.

“Nice! I’m glad Tony invited you, no one else brought Brownies yet. Speaking of, Tony should be here somewhere,” He informs you and roams the crowd.

Oh, please let him be Genie! Please let him be Genie, God, please!

Tony Stark topless in blue body paint and a little ponytail on the top of his head is something that would make the whole stress worth it.

You scan the room and look for Tony but you find someone else. Steve. Standing with a small group of people, a beer in his hand, he looks too beautiful to handle. So much about getting calmer.

“Okay, I’ll bring these to the kitchen, thank you!” You quickly announce and start to move.

“It was my pleasure, a lady in distress, how could I not help? The royal court has raised me to be a Prince, not a dizzard,” Aladdin proclaims and tips his fedora- you mean, his little hat. Didn’t Aladdin grow up on the street and only got access to the palace when he met Jasmine? This Aladdin here either forgot his own origin story or had more than a couple of drinks already.

While dodging guests, you walk over to the skeleton and the bloody unicorn (another guest) and enter the kitchen. Having a will of steel, you didn’t once look at Steve or check out his outfit. Like a powerful queen.

You walk around the kitchen island and put the box on the huge counter (not diamond by the way) and start unpacking. It looks like a lot of people brought some stuff, thankfully, and you place yours at the dessert side of the buffet. There are a couple of vampires with you in the room, but suddenly you hear more people walk in behind you.

“… like it’s the worst, Abe.”

“If anyone makes another theatre joke to my face, I think I’m actually gonna shoot someone,” A deep voice answers and you turn around.

Abraham Lincoln and a zombie nurse are deep in conversation while the nurse pours glasses of bowle on the kitchen island for them. You need a couple of seconds to recognize them as Mark and Jess from your department.

“You chose the outfit, Mark- um Abe, so you gotta live with that now. Just suck it up like a real man and get drunk with me. I never drank with a president before,” She says and hands him his glass. That’s when she notices you.

“Y/N, hi! Good to see you! Nice costume, are you … I don’t know who you are. Someone from the 60s? A celebrity? Meryl Streep?”

Did she just say 60s? Wait, did she just say Meryl Streep??

“Um, no. I-“

“Jess, why would she be Meryl Streep, she looks nothing like her, look at the hair. There were other actresses besides Meryl in the 60s, by the way. Also, I don’t think Y/N is going for the 60s, I think she is going for first World War,” Abraham Lincoln muses and takes a sip from his cherry bowle.

1910s definitely wasn’t what you envisioned.

“That’s why she is all bloody, because she served in the war and got killed by a grenade splinter in her chest,” He continues and seems very sure of his ability to identify vintage fashion.

“Women didn’t fight back then,” Jess retorts and pushes a strand of red hair out of her face. Even if women had served in the World War, they wouldn’t have worn a dress and heels. Time to solve the mystery.

“I’m a lady from the 40s and I got brutally murdered by my unfaithful husband who didn’t want to pay for a divorce.”

“Makes sense.”

“At least you got the decade right, Abe,” She says and pinches Mark’s side who squinches his eyes at her comment.

“The first World War wasn’t in the 40s, that was the second one. Did you leave your brain at home tonight?”

Geez.

“Y/N, by the way, Steve was asking about you.”

What.

WHAT.

Your eyes grow wide as you stare at Jess.

“He was?”

“Yup. Wanted to know if you’d be here, too, ‘cause he had overheard Ally telling you about Tony’s invitation. I said I didn’t know and that you’ve never been to Tony’s Halloween party before, so who knows if you’d be going.”

Yeah, because you’ve never been invited before but that’s the details. Steve asked about you!! Is this even real?

“I, um, okay? Cool. Well … I’m here. Um … do you know why he asked?” Okay, can your voice sound any more unstable? Try to keep your cool, for god’s sake!

“Nope,” She simply says and eyes you curiously. Poker face! Poker face!! You smile.

“Okay.”

Short silence.

“Wow, Y/N’s got a thing for Cap. That’s cute.”

“Mark!”

“Jess, I’m Abraham Lincoln, please respect your presid-“ A rather violent punch against his shoulder cuts off his sarcastic remark.

At that moment, a small group of people walks in and to the dismay of your previously relatively steady heartbeat you see Steve with them, now being nerve-wreckingly close. The kitchen seems quite crowded now.

Did he dress up as Han Solo? Heart be still!

Before he can catch you staring, you quickly turn back to face the counter and pretend to be occupied with inspecting the cover of the box you brought the brownies in. Oh, click-closure, interesting. But is it purple from both sides…?

From the corner of your eye, you see someone push in right next to you, and you don’t need to look up to know who it is. You’d recognize that cologne anywhere. You dare a glance to your left and realize that Steve has his back to you and is talking to a fantastic-looking blonde in a Super Woman costume.

It’s easy to see that every single woman in this room and a couple of dudes are subtly staring at Captain America and you can’t blame them.

He doesn’t notice you and you think you’d get away when, on the other side of the room, two of your co-workers in sexy Harry Potter costumes (Hufflepuff and Slytherin) come up to the kitchen island. Hufflepuff sees you, claps her hands and laughs, getting everyone’s attention.

“I didn’t think you would come!”

Slytherin whistles approvingly at your costume and excessive make-up just as Steve turns from having his back to you to looking at you. His expression is kind of friendly when he turns, surely because he’s having an inspiring discussion with Wonder Woman, though he also looks curious to see who Hufflepuff is yelling at, or at least that’s how it seems to you. The minute his eyes meet yours, he freezes and stares.

“Look at you!” Slytherin calls out and grabs an empty glass to fill it with bowle, “That dress is beautiful, so retro, I love it. 50s? You should come to work looking like that, no wait, we should all come to work looking like that. Every Wednesday. We’ll make it our Mean Girls-inspired theme day. Minus the fake blood of course.”

You want to run. You don’t want everyone looking at you.

“You have no idea how long I have waited to hear those words,” Hufflepuff comments and goes for her own glass, “I’m a sucker for everything vintage. It’s so cute.”

“I’m actually a lady from the 40s, whose, um, whose husband cheated on her and now doesn’t want to pay for a divorce, so he, uh, killed me,” You explain, now not so sure about your costume idea anymore. You also try to avoid Steve’s beautiful eyes which are so painfully close and they are looking at you! One might think you never had a boyfriend before, it’s pathetic.

“Ooh, drama! I like that,” A guy who you don’t know says, “Trouble in paradise?”

Trouble in paradise? Does he think you had beef with your *non-existent* boyfriend and now you went for Murdered Wife? That’s something Roxie would do, no doubt.

“No, just liked the idea.”

The general attention in the room moves away from you and the little groups get back to their own conversations.

You chance a look at Steve out of the corner of your eye and see he’s still staring at you, no longer frozen. There is activity behind his eyes, lots of it. Just nothing you can understand. You stop trying to look at Steve without looking like you are looking at Steve and take a step forward.

“Can you pour one for me, too?” You ask Hufflepuff and she does as you ask. Steve’s gaze burns into the backside of your head. Why isn’t he saying anything? He never seemed shy around you.

The music in the living room changes into a different song and a Pink Power Ranger shrieks and pushes against the pirate next to her.

“Let’s go dance! Please!”

“No, let’s just stay here for a while.”

She sighs and looks annoyed, as far as her body language tells you because the mask covers her face completely. All of a sudden, you feel a heat at your back, like someone came up behind you and you think you know who it is. For the sake of your reputation – ‘cause you’d definitely ruin that if you turned around now and stuttered like a horse – you keep your back to him and hold on to the surface in front of you.

“We’ve been standing around all night. I need to move!”

The pirate doesn’t answer and demonstratively takes a sip from his cup. You do the same and listen to the music blasting through the apartment (Steve has moved to stand next to you now), all while ignoring the tension between the two of you in the air.

The music goes into the chorus and the bass booms.

“Not to be dramatic, but I am going to die if we don’t do something … like now.”

“Sarah, if you want to go dance, go.”

Seriously. You start to grin at her childlike crossing of the arms.

“Y/N.”

The blood in your veins freezes at his voice, so close, so him, captivating you instantly although you try not to let it show. You turn your head, still smiling, and look at him. You barely smile around him, let alone at him, because you are usually too nervous but he took you off-guard this time. Then you realize where you are, only a few inches away from Steve fuckin’ Rogers, and your smile dies on your face.

He is still staring at you, but now he is staring at your mouth.

You feel your knees get a bit weak.

The tension gets unbearable, so all you have in mind is ESCAPE. You turn away and attempt to walk around the kitchen island when Steve grabs your wrist.

“Hang on, Y/N,” He says.

He pulls you back gently and you involuntarily get close again, head tilted up to meet his eyes but immediately regretting it because how are you going to get out of this situation now?

“Hm?”

“I like your outfit. Been a while since I saw someone dressed like that.”

Roxie would high-five you now if she was here.

“Thanks.”

“I was actually … hoping to see you here, I-“

“Oh my god, who made these brownies?!” Someone cries out next to you and both of you turn your heads to the side. Albert Einstein stands at the counter, eyes huge, one of your brownies in his hand and his mouth is chewing wildly.

“Me,” You inform him and hesitantly raise your hand.

“These are unbe-fucking-lievable. I’m in love. Everyone please leave me alone now, I need some me-time.”

You smile at him, what a nice thing to say, especially from a physicist that legendary.

You look back at Steve and realize he is watching you again, this time a small smile plays around his lips. Seeing a Private Steve Smile up-close creates a tingling flutter in your belly and kind of detaches you from reality for a second. Where are you again?

“Y/N, what did you put into th-“

“Okay, that’s it,” Steve declares, interrupting Hufflepuff, lays one arm around your waist and starts to move, so you have no other option than to follow him. “I can’t even have one solid conversation with you without anyone interrupting.”

You don’t say anything because you’re way too overwhelmed by the sudden physical contact. He has never really touched you before, aside from shaking your hand or platonically laying a hand on your shoulder, and now you don’t really know how to react. The wild beating of your heart doesn’t help the matter.

He guides you out of the kitchen and you find yourself standing in the loud living room. Pink Power Ranger is dancing like there’s no tomorrow and if this wasn’t such an important moment, you would laugh. Are you being dramatic or just needy?

“I mean, I’m sure the brownies are great, but … well,” He says, arm still around your waist, blue eyes looking down at you, his smell has long catapulted you into a Steve-induced trance, “What I was saying is, I’m glad you’re here because- actually I was trying to approach you at the Tower this week but you’ve been busy and I didn’t want to interrupt, and … well, I was wondering if you want to go out-“

“Han Solo and Lady 40s, arm in arm in my living room! Never thought I would see that happening,” Aladdin booms a few steps away from you. Is this night even for real? Since when have you been so popular??

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Steve bursts out, grabs your hand and drags you past Aladdin into a hallway. You shoot the host an apologetic look but don’t bother stopping the grin on your face. This is kinda funny, not gonna lie.

The hallway is empty and there seem to be no other horny guests so far. As soon as he knows the air is clear, he turns around to you and moves way into your Personal Space (like always, it seems), his beautiful blue eyes locking on yours.

“What I was trying to say is-“

“Hey, Steve my man-“

“You better piss off now, Carl, or I can’t guarantee for anything anymore!” Steve growls at Carl, who just appeared behind him, without even looking over his shoulder.

At this moment he sounds so threatening that you can’t help but wince a little, your eyes grow huge as you watch Carl do a 180 and walk into the direction he came from. Your gaze flickers back to the man in front of you and it’s obvious he is trying not to lose his temper – a trait you never thought he had in him, losing his temper, you mean.

A small muscle in his jaw twitches and his eyes look unusually dark while they stare at the corner of your mouth, so you try a smile. At that, his face changes and he looks up into yours.

“You wanted to ask me something?”

Phew, who would have thought you would be that fucking courageous. Roxie won’t believe this.

“Yes.”

He gets even closer, so you retreat until your back hits the wall, and he puts his big hands against the surface next to your shoulders. Caging you. It’s just that it doesn’t feel like it. He could show you a way out and you would still stand glued to this spot.

“Before anyone gets in the way again, I’m gonna make this short. Do you want to go out on a date with me?”

****

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peaches-of-1 · 5 years

Text

Training: Golden Dicks Award (pt 2)

And we’re back. My mstrlst is in my bio, so you can catch up there. Also I reblogged it before posting this, so you can just scroll down a bit. This is shorter than the first part.

All the usual warnings apply: Voyerism, orgy, lesbian sex, blood mention, chastity, hypnotism.

If you want something specific tagged, lemme know!

After eating what could be categorized as dinner, you put yourself together again. There’d be a rush at intermission, but you were ready as your hypnosis went deeper. Apparently, you had called out some of your owners’ names instead of the one given to you to say. So you were given more layers a sleep. A fog would permanently be in your mind.

“Alligator”

“Crocodile”

Intermission. First was half of one of the larger groups. Then the second half. No time for clean up. You weren’t sure if they had used your ass or not. They liked your lap dances more and parading you around than actual sex.

Third group during intermission wanted you clean, so a quick shower with lots of help. Then you were dried off. They wanted a fashion show first.

Blue see through pants with a bikini top. Then a slutty schoolgirl outfit featuring a micro skirt that showed off your ass. You felt the semen shifting inside. Nothing but pearls were your next outfit. They were cascading off of every body part.

“Sit on my lap, beautiful.”

“Yes, sir.” I was to call them sir.

This blonde haired one was all muscle, his thighs were strong and firm. He hugged you around the waist. The other gave lust filled grins.

“[Redacted] was right about you, cutie. You look good in everything, so fuckable.” The smaller one was to your left and he scratched your chin.

Their tall and pale member kissed up your legs as the one hugging your waist kissed your neck. The one on your right was also quite muscular, and his lips were very adorable. The three others were looking for your next outfit. The one they would fuck you in.

“They said you can take anything.” Baby lips said.

“I can, sir.” You replied. “I’ll do anything you want me to.”

Dimples came out with Smiley and Legs. Your brain had given them secondary names to make sure you could tell one from the other. Legs was the only rapper wearing shorts. IT seems they went for more of a school boy uniform this era.

It was Smiley who held up the pink latex dress up and said to get ready quickly. How much time had passed? Had they already performed? Was that why they were taking their time?

Either way, you changed into the tight and bright outfit, and went back out to see them.

“Fuck…” Dimples said and licked his lips. “Nice choice [redacted].”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

They all turned to the smaller one, saying he got to give the first orders. He wanted a tit job, so you got on your knees in front of him. Sir pulled out his cock, and you began rubbing it with your latex covered tits.

“Oh god, [redacted] was right!” His voice shot up to his higher octaves. “Holy shit.”

“Wow, hyung” said the lanky and pale member. “She’s that good, huh?”

He grinned, “Oh, yeah. It feels good.”

The other men started rubbing themselves. You focused on your breasts and the dick between them. You stuck your tongue out and touched the tip to it.

Legs asked, “Cutie, how many times has cum gone in your ass?”

“I...I don’t know.” It upset you a bit. “I was supposed to get 7, but so many, and I’m not sure. At least 5?”

He scratched your scalp, “It’s ok if you don’t remember. It sorta got messy, huh?”

You nodded and thought to yourself how much of an understatement that was.

“I think you should get this thing off. You’ve worked so hard. [Redacted] himself even tried to break you.”

“He’s got a harem, I’m pretty sure.” Smiley said.

You spoke, “I have to be sure, though.”

“Don’t worry.” The oldest said. “You will be.”

The muscly one from earlier added, “We’ll top you off.” His voice came from behind you.

You dress had rolled up to your waist and he unplugged you. It came out like a waterfall. It made your cheeks warm for such a thing to have occurred.

“Well…” He said. “More than 7.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

He shook his hand, “I guess we don’t need lube, then.”

Strong hands grabbed your waist and he lined his cock up to plunge inside you. You moaned and wanted to giggled because he rolled your dress back down. Why? It didn’t matter.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum~” the man in front said. “Open up.”

You parted your lips and stuck out you tongue even further. Sir slid inside and thrust his hips. You were being spit roasted by physical opposites, and it was quite entertaining. As he came in your mouth, two more replace it. The lanky one and Smiley’s.

How many cocks had been shoved down your throat tonight? Even more had been simply sucked on by your golden lips. Was it because it couldn’t reach your throat? Maybe. Maybe it’s just cuz they liked head better. You’d never tell mostly because they’d be nonexistent memories by this time tomorrow.

“Having fun, pup?” A familiar voice asked.

“O…oppa?” Command 16.3a.

“That’s right, pup.”

You heard his footsteps come closer, and you were made to stand up. His face was the only one you saw clearly. Yoongi. Your heart leapt, but you also felt embarrassed. You were so dirty.

He smiled, “Did you miss me?”

Your whole body reached out to hug him. He laughed a bit and kissed your lips. You were so hungry for his kiss, his touch, his everything.

Yoongi smiled, “Calm down, pup.” He looked into your eyes and then sunk to his knees. “Since you’ve been such a good little puppy, your belt is coming off.”

He unlocked it and chuckled at how wet you were, and then he placed it on the side. Your oppa kissed you again.

“I’m about to perform, so I gotta go. Have fun, darling.”

As he turned around, everything went foggy again.

Sir Legs grabbed you and threw you on the bed, “Sorry for being so rough, cutie, but I am gonna be the first to claim that pussy tonight.”

You spread your legs wide open, “Hurry~Sir~”

He growled and began fucking your dripping we pussy. You whole body shivered and you moaned so loudly. It was more like a scream to be honest.

“Fuck~yesssss~”

“And I’ll be the second.” Baby lips said as he slipped into you as well.

It felt like you would foam at the mouth with how good your body felt. A vibrating egg was shoved into your ass. Tears filled your eyes as cock was jammed down your throat as well. You couldn’t tell what was happening beyond the ballsack dangling in front of your face and hitting your nose with every thrust.

Bedsheet was balled up in your hands. You felt like you were gonna die like this. You clawed at the body on top of your own, begging Sir to go deeper. Probably drawing blood as fireworks went off behind your eyes. You clamped down on every cock inside of you as your back arched as much as it could.

Cock slid out of your mouth just to be pounded back in. You gagged as you climaxed, making it feel as though you were floating. They came as yours was just starting to end. You were slathered in their cum. Buckets was an understatement. The others had been rubbing themselves with their hands and quickly replaced all the cocks in your holes. They came so soon after.

The waves of pleasure was still being ridden. Heavy panting surrounded your spasming body. Their cum flowed out of all your holes. You couldn’t tell who hugged you and comforted you until you heard a sound like the crumpling of paper. Condom wrapper? Command 1.2 Soft Reset. All of your muscles began to relax and your consciousness began to slip.

“I’ll take care of her.” Jihye said. “You’re needed in the green room.”

You served a group of Gen 1 idols and then more girls. More outfits. Korean school girl uniform and riding the tip of a super expensive dress shoe. She was so pretty and so sexy dressed in a tight black skirt and white dress shirt with the top three unbuttoned to show off her lacy black bra.

“I changed out of my heels for this, so do better.”

“Yes, ma’am!” you moaned and started working harder.

She had said you weren’t allowed to cum until she gave you permission. Even though this was her show costume, she used it for immersion. You were going crazy trying to hold on since you hadn’t cum since eight people ago.

Your teacher sighed, “I just wanna make a cute girl squirt over my shoes. Is that too much to ask?” Then she held your face to look at her tanned and dark lipped face. “Beg for me.”

“Please, ma’am. Please let me cum! I can’t hold--ahhh. I’ll do anything. Just let me cum. Please. Please. Please. Please ma’am. Please.”

She smirked, “Cum for me.”

You gripped the chair and squirted hardcore. It became even more intense when she said a cue word. You were yourself with your eyes shut tight. It felt as though you were on fire even though you were soooo wet. You rested your head on her thigh. What just happened?

She made you look at her face and your eyes widened, “Hw--”

“See you later alligator!” the voice screamed from their booth.

You blanked on her name. When you came back to your consciousness, you were sitting where Ma’am had been. She was being escorted out by two guards.

She giggled, “I’ll bring the others next time.”

The voice explained, “Everything’s ok, (Y/N). Guests usually don’t know cue words. Even if they do, they’re not supposed to use them. I’m sure she meant no harm, but it’s a liability.”

“I understand. Am I in trouble?”

“No. No. Not you, darling. You were perfect. You’ve got a super special guest. Treat him well.” The voice made you go deeper.

A large man entered, “I’ve never done this before.”

I doubt that. You thought.

“That’s ok. What would you like me to call you? Any name other than your birth name or stage name will work.”

“Um, D-Daddy?” that tattooed man said.

You made sure to smile since he was nervous, “Ok, Daddy. What would you like to call me? I cannot give you my real name.”

He looked at you, “Will Kitten be ok?” his husky voice asked.

“Of course! I’m now your kitten, Daddy. Would you like me to change?” You looked at yourself now only in your white not so covering cover up. They must’ve...you looked at Daddy. “I have many outfits, Daddy. Oh. Please sit, Daddy.”

You were turned eager to please and were more chipper to fit your given role.

“Yes. Of course.” The large man sat on the bed after taking off his shoes.

You looked at him eagerly, “If you wanna pick an outfit for me--”

“No. Just...sit on my lap?” He pat his meaty thighs.

With a nod, you made yourself comfortable. He held you close to him and got you to lay with him. Daddy seemed tense.

“I just had a rough day, so we can just cuddle. Is that ok, or do I have to fuck you?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, Daddy.”

He sighed with relief, “Good. Cuddling it is.”

Daddy rubbed your back and talked about his difficult and high stress day. Although he was a large and rough looking man who was 1000% Daddy, it was like he was the kitten. He was pretty sure he hurt his ankle while dancing on stage.

“You need to be more careful, Daddy.” You pouted.

“Is that so, Kitten?” He chuckled.

You nodded.

“Then I’ll be more careful.” Daddy kissed your forehead.

You smiled, “Good. Are you feeling better, Daddy?”

He nodded, “I am actually.” Then something caught his eye as he smiled at you. “Lift your neck, Kitten?”

You did and he felt your collar.

“Those boys...your owners. They take good care of you?”

“They do.” You said to the man who wasn’t actually an idol but had gained lots of popularity through social media.

“Good.” He purred. “If they ever hurt you, come to me, and I’ll deal with ‘em.”

You spoke honestly, “They never would. They love me. I love them.”

He smiled suddenly. It seemed to surprise himself as well, “They better.” Then he sat up. “Ok. I should go before I mess around and fall in love.”

The man stood up and fixed his shirt.

“Did you have a good time, Daddy?”

“The best, Kitten.” He kissed your cheek. “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your night and remember what I said.”

You grinned, “I will!” unsure if you actually would or not.

He closed the door behind him. Well, that was a nice time before it was three groups of 8+ members back to back. The girl group loved to use their nails and knew how to use toys you have never seen before. They also really liked kissing. So softly leaving trails of pink and red all over your body.

An extremely famous couple was the last to come in and had you play with the man while his wife masturbated and watched. She shouted commands to him, and he was all too happy to follow them. He had been taken out of chastity today and this was his reward. The freckles on his face made his eyes stand out more. He was dressed up like a puppy, collar and all. It was ok since they were both initiating it with you, right? The man had a bone shaped gag and beautiful whines.

It was almost hilarious the amount of times she told you to look at him instead of her. She ended up collaring you to him to make sure you obeyed. Then she slid in between both of your faces as you ate out both of her ends. He seemed like the type that liked to eat ass. They kissed your lips and left you to the officials to clean up.

Then it was time to go home. You hadn’t even done much today, but your body was tired. Your eyes opened and Jin walked in.

“How’s our girl?” He asked.

You began to run to him, but your legs gave out. Right you had legs.

Jungkook and Jin rushed to help you back onto the bed. They said you had gon in really deep and it’d take you twenty more minutes for you to have control over your body again. Right. This was your body. It didn’t belong to anyone else but you.

“No matter how many times we lay claim to you, it’s still your body.” Taehyung said, reading your expressions easily.

Namjoon added, “No one can take that away from you.”

You cried despite how happy you were. Had it really been scary at all? No. Not really. Just overwhelming. There were so many people you had made love to, but you couldn’t recall their faces or names. Someone hugged you.

“It’s ok, (Y/N).” Jimin cooed. “You did so well. We’re so proud of you.”

They all gave you space along with comforting words. Then you put on your dress and kept the collar on. It felt like a security blanket right now. Yoongi held your hand as the eight of you were ushered into a room to wait for you carts to pull up.

Heechul approached the group and you all bowed.

“You did such a wonderful job tonight!” He met your eyes. “All of you. His gaze met Namjoon’s.

He whispered something to BTS’s leader as Yoongi couldn’t hide his scowl. Did he not like Heechul? How can you not like Heechul? He’s annoying but also endearing.

“I hope there are no hard feelings. I always like to check in with the own...lovers afterwards and make sure I didn’t cross any boundaries with my performance.” He was being very honest.

What did he do? Did he parody BTS on stage?

Yoongi softened and held out his hand, “No hard feelings.”

The two men shook hands.

You snuggled your oppa’s arm. Heechul bowed to all of you and went on his way. He “accidentally” dropped something and asked his manager to pick it up. She leaned over and her pussy was glistening. So that was his pet? He grabbed the butt of another and a third leaned in close to him, giggling. A harem?

~~~~~~~

Now all eight of you were in the living room falling asleep after eating a filling takeout meal. Your pajamas were super cozy.

“(Y/N)?” Hobi whispered. “We love you. More than anything.”

“I love you too.” You replied, slightly confused but glad he said so.

He smirked, “We know. Even if you never said it again, we’d know.”

Jimin pulled you closer in his kitty lingerie that he had been wearing under his clothing all night. He must’ve been done with his dom mood. Namjoon made sure to cuddle the both of you on his chest. Jungkook was letting his leader sleep on his stomach while his head was on Jin’s. Tae’s hand was holding yours even while he slept. Yoongi was curled up behind Jimin. All your boys were there. You felt like your heart would explode from pure bliss.

As you fell asleep, you wondered why Hwasa’s smiling face popped up in your mind.

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phoenixmakeswords · 5 years

Text

The AU Ch.2

Still needs a name :(

TW: Rape, alcohol reference, victim-blaming, CSA mention, anxiety attack, depression, mention of previous suicide attempt and past suicidal thoughts.

make my way carefully through the throng of gyrating drunk people in the living room of the lake house owned by Clare’s girlfriend. Summer’s parents are real estate moguls or something like that. Clare changes girlfriends the way most people change clothes, so I wasn’t paying close attention when she was gushing about Summer.

Clare hugs me the minute I walk into the spacious kitchen. She’s what I wish my sister was like, but Regan’s too busy being his princess.

“Hey, Clarebear,” I murmur, squeezing her carefully. She smells like bubble gum.

“So, what’s up? You were really vague in your text. Did Regan do something again?” She hops easily onto the counter so she’s slightly taller than I am now. It’s disconcerting; Clare’s one person I'm taller than and I got used to that.

“I need a drink. Or four.”

“That bad, huh?” She smiles sympathetically.

“You have no idea. I came out. And I’ve gotten nothing but absolute radio silence since then. Like, I don’t know I'm still considered family or what the fuck is going on. So, yeah.”

“I still think of you as family. See any guys out there you’re into?”

“Thanks. No, I was too busy tryin’ to find you.”

A short, blonde chick should be easy to find. Especially when said blonde chick looks like a mashup of Tinkerbell and Alice Cullen. Like, picture Alice Cullen only blonde, lesbian, and punk/emo. That’s Clare.

“I’ll be your wingwoman if you find anyone.” Her playful grin helps. She helps. Because, yeah, my life is really royally screwed-up right now, but I still have Clare. And booze. Both of those help. My head feels like a heavy metal band has made itself at home when I open my eyes in the morning. I feel like death. Warmed over. Or ran over.

I’ve dealt with hangovers before, but this is the worst. Everything hurts. Why does everything hurt?

I remember doing shots with Clare. And that’s it.

I'm naked. In a strange bed. But I'm alone, which is a huge relief.

Standing makes the world spin violently. Swearing, I grip the nightstand for support. I might’ve felt pretty good last night, but the morning after is a bitch.

My stomach drops when I see the rust stains on the sheets. And I'm thirteen all over again.

It feels like eternity before I can breathe. Before I'm able to convince my lungs I need them to do their job. I can’t move off the floor yet. I don’t remember getting on the floor. This can’t be happening again.

By the time I'm able to get dressed, I'm exhausted. I feel worse than I did yesterday.

The one good thing is the sun isn’t shining. That might be the only good thing, but I’ll take what I can get. It hits me all over again when I get home from getting a rape kit done. And it hurts. I need my family, and I don’t know if they still want me, which hurts more.

The icons on my phone screen are almost impossible to make out through the tears blurring them.

“What’s up?” Ransom asks on the third ring. He sounds so perky and cheerful. Lucky.

“C-ca-can you come over? Please? Not a booty call. I need you.” I hate how obvious it is I'm crying.

“On my way.”

He finds me in a shaking ball on the couch.

“Kris, what happened?” He reaches for me and I duck away from him.

“Don’t touch me. Please.”

“Okay. Okay. No problem. What’s going on?” His gravelly voice is soft. Concerned.

“I was raped.” Saying the word makes it real all over again. Just like when I was a kid. “Again. I don’t remember it. Th-the sheets were bloody.”

“Did he drug you?”

“No, I was wasted. I'm a slut anyway. I mean, I deserved it. I was probably flirtin’ with him and he got a little rough.”

“It’s not your fault. He knew you were drunk and did it anyway.”

“Because I'm easy. Everyone in the freakin’ city knows this. I should’ve killed myself.”

“Kris, that’s not how this works. I mean, yeah, you’re kinda slutty, but that doesn’t justify this. No. Don’t do that.”

“Then why? Why do guys do this shit? Why me? I mean, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone else. I wasn’t meaning you.” I hug myself tightly, trying to not shatter into pieces. It’s been years since I’ve been this ashamed. Felt this dirty.

“Because they’re monsters. Only monsters do this kind of thing to a human being. Do you want a blanket? I'm sorry this happened to you.”

“Blanket. Please. I'm sorry. You’re like the only person who probably cares this happened.”

“Don’t apologize. Which blanket do you want? Where are they?”

“Hall closet. The gray fluffy one. Thank you.” I manage a broken, mangles smile. I feel like a burden. A filthy, broken burden that should be thrown away.

He smiles gently as he gives me the blanket. He’s not looking at me like I'm broken.

“So, what were you meaning about nobody else caring?” he asks carefully as he sits down.

“I’ve gotten nothin’ but absofuckinglutely radio silence from my family since I came out. I don’t know if they still want me. I need my mama right now, and I can’t call her. I mean, I expected this from Regan. She hates me. But not Mama. I was at Clare’s girlfriend’s house. Clare was there. And she probably knows.”

“That’s not cool. They shouldn’t ignore you. Has Clare texted you or anything?”

“No. She’s probably really hungover. That’s definitely not helping. I feel really worthless right now.”

“You’re not. You just went through something horribly traumatic.”

I already have PTSD from him. I already have nightmares about it when I'm stressed. He already screwed me up. I don’t need or want anyone else making it worse. The feel of the dough in my hands helps steady me slightly. Kneading it provides a distraction from the fury coursing through my veins. I nearly threw my phone when I finally heard from Regan. I am not a violent person. If I react violently, that puts me a step closer to becoming a monster like him.

Breathing heavily, I set the dough to the side to rest before moving on to the next batch. My countertops, stove, and table are covered with bowls of bread dough waiting for me to work them. Baking is my passion but breadmaking is cheaper than a punching bag.

This isn’t like when I bake. When I bake, I'm happy. I'm doing something I genuinely love. When I make bread, I'm always on the verge of bursting from fury. And this is how I control it.

It’s too early for me to be so angry. It’s three in the morning. I should be sleeping. I'm exhausted. I slept for maybe an hour before the nightmares kicked in and I saw Regan’s text, which didn’t help.

So I bake bread until I'm too exhausted to be angry.

I collapse into my bed once the last loaf is baked and put on The Empire Strikes Back with the volume on low once I lock my bedroom door. Ransom’s staying the night because I really don’t need to be alone right now. Needing him to stay bothers me. Needing a guy when a guy threw my life into turmoil bothers me.

Why do I smell eggs? I wonder, sitting up carefully. I'm still sore from the Incident.

I wander into the kitchen to find Ransom, clad only in baggy gray pajama bottoms, frying eggs at my stove.

“Good morning. Um, why is your kitchen being taken over by bread?” he remarks when he sees me.

“Because my sister is a giant bitch. And she finally texted me back and it was mostly her telling me I'm not her brother anymore, I'm a liar, an attention whore, and she hates me. She told me I deserved the Incident at the party. Because I'm a slut and I probably wanted it.”

“I really hope they don’t hire both of you. You’ll probably end up stabbing each other to death with tattooing needles or something.” He grins playfully. “You, I like. So, you bake bread when you’re angry?”

“It’s cheaper than a punching bag. I didn’t wake you up, did I? Um, I'm really sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be. I slept through you making a bread castle. How’re you doing?” I don’t miss the way his green eyes and gravely voice soften at the question.

“I'm fabulous.” I roll my eyes. “Isn’t Saturday, like, your Sabbath? I mean, I'm not religious, but I don’t wanna screw you up.”

“Sarcasm aside, that’s really sweet of you. I don’t keep Shabbat. Or go to synagogue. Or keep kosher. Thank you for being considerate and thinking of that.” He looks delighted I took that into consideration. I'm a slut, not a dick. I mean, I can be, but that’s mostly when Regan’s talking to me.

“You’re welcome.” I lean gingerly against the black marble island.

“You’re hurting. Go sit. Do you want coffee?”

“Sitting will be worse. Just—Just let me deal with this.”

“Okay. Is there anything I need to not do? I know you already feel crappy.”

“I still really don’t want touched. I know I'm gonna need help changing the dressing. And I might freak out. Um, don’t come up behind me.”

“How can I make changing it easier?” He places the eggs carefully on paper plates. “Do you want any meat with this? I don’t eat meat, but I’ll fix sausage or bacon or whatever.”

“I don’t know if you can. Eggs are fine.”

The look on his face when I douse my eggs with ketchup is nothing short of comical.

“Why did you do that?” he asks, eyes wide in horror.

“It’s really good. Seriously. I'm sorry if I'm cranky. I didn’t get a lot of sleep on top of my mental health being in the sewer.” I pop the tab on my Mango-Pineapple Rockstar.

“You have a right to be cranky. If that hadn’t happened when it did, I was going to ask you out. I’d still like to, but I completely get if you need to wait.”

It’s my turn to stare. I have a beautiful, shirtless man in my kitchen who not only fixed my breakfast but wants to date me. I'm not sure why he wants to date me exactly, but I'm not complaining.

“Not—Ransom, I can’t. I mean, I'm fucked up enough as it is without the Incident. And we can’t do anything right now. I mean, I don’t even want platonic touchin’, never mind sexy stuff.” And that seems to be all I'm good for. So why are you even botherin’? I add silently.

“Kris. Kris, it’s okay. It’s okay. If you’d said yes to a date, I was gonna wait on sex until you were ready. Until you were okay enough.”

“You’re fuckin’ hilarious. Guys are assholes. And they see me, and they think ‘Oh, he’s gay and he’s easy, so he’ll do what I want’ and I do. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Say no.”

“You should be a comedian. I don’t say no. Ever. You could ask me right now and I’d give in. So what if I'm already torn up and can barely walk and I’d probably go into an anxiety attack? You’d be able to get off. You’d be happy. End of story. I’ve said no. And I’ve been slapped in the face and told to not be a whiny bitch and to just deal. So that’s what I do.” I hate the anger making my voice shake. I'm not angry with him. Not really. I'm angry with the men who taught me this is the way it’s supposed to be.

“Kris, I would never do that. Even if we were strangers.”

“Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

“Have you thought about therapy?”

I glare in response. Of course I’ve thought about therapy. Anyone who gets to know me can see I need it. I'm scared to go.

“And people wonder why I drink so much,” I mumble. I'm early for class, but I'm not the only one here. Clare and I are the only ones here. Great.

“Hey! I haven’t heard from you since the party,” Clare says, coming to hug me. I sidestep her quickly.

“Don’t hug me right now. Please.”

“So, what happened with that guy?”

“What guy?” My blood turns to ice and lead pools in my stomach. I'm not sure if I'm going to throw up or pass out.

“Some blond. James, I think. He was really into you. You didn’t seem that into him. He must’ve been really good, though. We could hear you over the music.”

I stare at her in shock and disbelief. It’s been years since I’ve felt this level of hurt. Of betrayal.

“He raped me, Clare. And you listened to it. The fact you listened to me having sex at all is kinda creepy. Why didn’t you help me?” I spit.

“I thought you’d quit being all mopey and depressed if you got laid.”

“There’s a slight freaking difference between ‘laid’ and ‘raped’. I don’t remember anything. I saw the blood stains on the sheets and went into an anxiety attack.”

“You went into the bedroom willingly.”

“I was blackout drunk, Clare. Willing or not doesn’t matter.”

“Well, if you weren’t such a slut—”

“Shut up. Don’t you dare put this on me, Clare. Don’t. Next you’re gonna say it was my clothes.”

“Everyone knows how easy you are. You practically have ‘Fuck Me’ stamped on your forehead.”

I thought Clare would understand. I thought a woman, of all people, would get it. I thought Clare was my friend. That my loyalty was worth something. That I was worth something to her.

I'm an idiot.

She’s still talking when I walk out of the classroom. I’ll catch up later. Unless I drop out. Why not? It’s not like my life’s anything great right now.

When things went to crap after him, I became severely depressed. I pretty much shut myself in my room and listened to Fall Out Boy songs on repeat. And I wrote a suicide note in my journal. I was thirteen and I was planning on hanging myself. All I did was cause the people I love pain. My parents broke up, my sister—who I had been so close with—became my enemy, and my nana despised me. So why stay? Mama found the note the day before I planned on ending my life. And she got me through it. That was the first time.

I was seventeen the first time it was a stranger. He was my gym coach. When word got out around school, Regan became known as ‘The Slut’s Little Sister’. She cornered me one day after school and screamed at me about how I ruined her reputation. She told me I was selfish and all I cared about was getting laid. She blamed me. The other students did too. I have a phoenix tattoo and a lightsaber tattoo covering the scars on my forearms from that attempt.

I know I'm spiraling now. So, I do the one thing I can think of: I drive to Mama’s house. Worst case scenario is she tells me I'm unwanted. That very well might kill me.

The large white Cape Cod house in the suburbs has never looked so threatening.

I rap anxiously on the red door with one hand and ring the doorbell with the other. I know I'm being annoying but I'm in the middle of a crisis.

Mama looks stunned to see me.

“Kristoff, what’re you doin’ here?” she asks.

#my writing #kris pov #alternate universe #original fiction #original fanfiction #writeblr #writers on tumblr

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dancingwithdylan21 · 6 years

Text

Thirsty - College AU

Summary: The reader tries to convince Stiles to go out drinking and they both get more than they bargained for.

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Word Count: 1,739

“Come on, Stilessss.” You whine dramatically, latching on to his firm bicep as if that will influence your life long best friend.

“Y/N, I can’t!” He huffs snatching his arm back.

“Dude...what kind of college kid are you?!”

“The kind that’s failing metaphysics class.” He groans. “If I don’t get at least a B on the test tomorrow then I’m screwed."

"Meta what?” You say confused.

“Exactly!” Stiles throws his hands up in the air. “Some stupid philosophy bullshit.”

“What…why? You’re a criminology major.”

“I forgot which day we had to sign up for classes. By the time I remembered, there was nothing good left. So I got stuck with a shitty three hour class every Friday.”

“Oh, Stiles. I don’t know how you get through life.” You tease him, only getting a dirty glare in response.

“You know I can’t sit still for that long, Y/N.” Stiles complains, dragging his hand through his dishelved brown hair.

“There’s this annoying girl who wears a ton of dark eye makeup. She looks like a fucking raccoon! And she legit follows me around. I sit in a different spot each class and she always fucking sits near me!”

“Well, it’s hard to resist all this charm.” You gesture towards him and move to settle down onto a futon, you know Stiles isn’t done rambling. Once he gets frustrated about something - forget it. He needs to rant.

“Hooking up with her would be a risky move.” Stiles spits out. “There’s no fucking way any sane guy would touch her without at least two condoms on."

"This is why we’re best friends, Stiles. Because you’re such a people person.” You snicker loudly.

“Oh, shut it.” He barely mumbles.

Talk about opposites attract. You’re the upbeat, easy going chick who’s always smiling. Stiles’ the grumpy, impatient dude with a heart of gold. But for some reason the dynamic works, you both definitely balance each other out.

“I have to start getting ready. I’ll be at The Emerald if you change your mind, ok?”

“What the hell is The Emerald?” Stiles scrunches up his handsome face.

“I already told you about it, man.” You roll your eyes. “It’s a new club. Everything is emerald green and silver. It’s a cool looking place!”

“Sounds…interesting.” Stiles raises an eyebrow.

“Whatever, buddy.” You laugh as you start walking out of his dorm room.

“Y/N, wait!” He jumps up in a panic. “How are you getting home because I know you’ll be too drunk to drive…”

“Lydia’s boyfriend is driving us. I’ll just find a ride with them or über if I have to.” You shrug in his direction.

“An uber?” Stiles feels almost offended. “No. If you need a ride, I’ll come get you.”

“No, Stiles! You need to study and rest up for tomorrow. Plus I’m going to my parents house and not coming back until Monday.”

“Um, were you gonna tell me that? Or just disappear for three days and see if I notice?” He snaps without thinking.

“You’re so needy, Stilinski.”

“Am not!”

“Are you sure you’re not hiding a vagina under those sweatpants?” You smirk while he plops back down at his desk.

“Oh honey, you couldn’t handle what’s under these sweatpants.”

“Really.” You deadpan taking a step closer.

“Really.” Stiles challenges leaning back in his computer chair with a smug smile.

“Oh well, I’ve gotta see this then. Drop em.”

“…What?”

“Show off your glorious cock, Stiles. Don’t be shy.” It makes your friend slightly blush and you can’t hold back a giggle.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense, Y/N. Stop distracting me with your dirty mind.” He pretends to be annoyed.

“Whatever you say, you big stud.” You crack up. Stiles rolls his eyes but he has a huge smile on his face. He crumbles up a piece of paper and throws it at you, hitting you right on the forehead.

“Score!” Stiles exclaims throwing up his arms.

“You’re twenty going on twelve, kiddo.” You shake your head at him.

“I’m freaking adorable.” Stiles sticks his tongue out at you. “What time should I pick you up?”

“Stiles..”

“No, Y/N. I’ve made up my mind.”

“But…”

“I know your parents live like 30 minutes away. It’s fine. My test isn’t until noon tomorrow. If your parents don’t mind, I can crash there and then leave early in the morning.”

Sigh. You know you’re not gonna win this.

“Fine. But if you fail the test, don’t you dare blame me! And my parents will be away this weekend so you can obviously stay over.”

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.” Stiles grabs a can of Pepsi from his mini fridge.

“Make sure you eat something too.”

“Yes, mom.” He says with a crooked smile.

“Shit.” You mutter at the clock. “I need to get ready. Have fun studying.”

“Yeah, I will.” Stiles pouts while he watches you leave his dorm room.

You’ve only been gone for thirty minutes and Stiles already feels left out. He wills himself to focus but he keeps wondering if you’ve left yet. Hearing a light knock, his head snaps up to see you peeking in through the half open door.

“Hey you.” Not waiting for him to answer, you stroll on in and it makes Stiles’ heart practically stop.

You look amazing. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t hear you talking to him. His mind wanders as he pictures you dancing at the club. You’ll be looking sexy as hell under those green lights and Stiles is pissed that he’s gonna miss it.

“Hello?” You snap your fingers in front of him. He shakes his thoughts away and gives you a sheepish smile.

“Here. Eat this, you weirdo.” You hand over a medium pepperoni pizza from his favorite pizza joint that’s near the campus. Thank god they deliver.

“Woah, Y/N.” Stiles grins wide pulling you in for a tight hug. “You’re the fucking best!"

Your phone starts vibrating and you see a text from Jeff flash on the screen. He’s one of those on again, off again guys who literally drives you fucking mad. It’s like he thrives on playing games and messing with your head.

"Who’s that?” Stiles asks even though he has an idea based on your reaction.

“Jeff. He said he’ll be stopping by tonight to say hi.”

Stiles’ jaw immediately tightens and he definitely wants to go with you now. He hates Jeff. The bastard is no good for you and he is always breaking your heart. Then Stiles’ the lucky one who has to pick up the pieces.

“How about you skip the club? We can eat pizza and watch a movie.” Your best friend suggests with his brown eyes boring into you.

“You have your test, dude! What’s wrong with you?”

“Me? Nothing’s wrong with me. Jeff’s just a piece of shit.” Stiles growls unable to control it. With a roll of your eyes, you ignore him and start reading a text from Lydia. You glance up and notice that he’s eyeing you with a weird look on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Stiles shrugs with an attitude as he continues watching you.

“What? Tell me!” You cast your eyes down. "Does my outfit look bad?“

”…Don’t you have a longer skirt that you can wear? And a top that isn’t so tight.“ Stiles wonders staring at you.

"Seriously?” You scoff as he continues looking you up and down with a puss on his face.

“I know it’s on the slutty side but whatever. Hopefully I’ll get hit on by a hot guy cause I’m horny.” You finally answer grabbing a piece of pizza.

“Uh…”

“And then you won’t have to waste your time picking me up.” You add completely oblivious that Stiles is internally freaking out. He mutters under his breathe but you’re unable to make it out.

“What’d you say?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He spits out at you, now shooting daggers at his laptop.

“Stop pmsing, Stilinski. It’s unbecoming.” You snort at him. Stiles spins around on his computer chair, studying you with his arms crossed.

“Stop being grumpy. I bought you pizza.” Instead of replying, your best friend races over to his closet and then begins searching for something on his iPhone.

“What’s happening here? Should I be concerned?” You ask sarcastically.

“I’m googling to see if the stupid emerald place has a dress code.” Stiles answers over his shoulder so he misses it when your mouth drops open.

“Mieczyslaw Stilinski! Sit your ass back down and fucking study!” You demand with your hands on your hips.

“Oh, yeah. You’re real intimidating, Y/N.” He laughs. “Your hot pink top makes you extra scary.”

Before you get a chance to respond, Stiles rips off his shirt and starts changing in front of you. Damn it. You become distracted by his hotness but snap yourself out of it and stalk over to him and shove him in the chest.

“You were fine until I mentioned Jeff. I already told you I’m done with him for good. So relax, ok?” You try to get through to the stubborn man but he just starts whistling.

“I’m almost ready.”

“Stick with the original plan. You’re not going.” You state firmly watching him fix his messy hair.

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.” Stiles lazily shrugs.

“Did you just quote The Notebook?!” You gasp. “Who the fuck are you?"

Stiles chuckles and walks back to his closet to get his boots,"I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He deadpans.

“That doesn’t even have anything to do with this.” You roll your eyes.

“Yes it does. It means if you’re going then I’m going.”

“No. It means…that he’ll do whatever she’s doing because it’s what she wants…or something.” You add now confused.

“You just proved that I’m right. Like always.” Stiles flashes a cocky smile.

“This isn’t what I want! I want you to go back to being Responsible Stiles. He was just here. Like friggin thirty minutes ago!”

“Responsible Stiles has left the building.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“You can’t take your test hungover, dear.”

“I’ll only have a couple of beers since I’ll be driving. Besides someone needs to be the voice of reason when Jeffrey fucking shows up.”

“Whatever.” You groan knowing that he won’t change his mind.

“Let’s get this shit show on the road!” Stiles announces, slapping your ass on the way out of his dorm.

Masterlist

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amaralanegra · 6 years

Text

Into the Abyss (and back into you)

ao3 link

Chapter 1: First Day

Pairings: A LOT

Warnings: none atm

Summary: After being rescued, child soldier survivor Bucky Barnes tries his hardest to have a normal, ordinary high school life despite the terrors that still haunt him. One day, he receives an email that he thought would never come -- the private investigator he had hired found his mother. He has to make a plan and act quick if he doesn't want to lose her again. Sam Wilson, aspiring therapist, loves his family and his friends. After his best friend Bucky cuts off communication from their friend group, his sister goes missing. A hashtag, a social media movement, a nationwide search. But there's no trace of her. After finishing high school, Bucky contacts him once more, telling him that he knows where to find his sister. With the help of his friends, they all travel throughout the United States to find Sam's sister and Bucky's mother. And perhaps love in the way, too.

A/N: DONT FORGET TO LIKE COMMENT AND SUBSCRIBE

Steve♢ is online

Erik ( ಠ ಠ) is online

Bucky ( ˘-___-) is online

Sammy is online

Steve ♢: first day of school o(*^▽^*)o

Steve ♢: you guys excited?

Erik ( ಠ ಠ): of course

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i cant wait to finally step into that hellhole we call school

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): and die.

Bucky ( ˘-__-): ^

Sammy: facts

Steve ♢: you guys…

Steve ♢: we only have this year together!

Steve ♢: we gotta enjoy it!

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): oh ill enjoy it alright

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): im always happy whenever i get home from school u know

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): its a good change from the crippling depression i feel whenever i step into those shitty gates of hell

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): did i also mention i get diabetes type fuck-school whenever i enter school

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): its life-threatening steve

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i could die

Sammy: tick tock then bitch

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): shut up sam

Steve ♢: come ooooon

Steve ♢: you'll be ok! You have me, Sam and Bucky!

Steve ♢: i honestly think this year will be great! Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): yeah

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i hope so too

Sammy: Alright Steve we'll see you at school

Sammy: I’m about to start driving now

Steve ♢: ok, see you guys! Bucky ( ˘-___-): Oh hey btw

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Don't forget to eat

Bucky ( ˘-___-): You always skip breakfast...

Bucky ( ˘-___-): At least drink orange juice

Bucky ( ˘-___-): That should help a bit

Steve ♢: yep!

Steve ♢: i won’t forget (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Good!

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): gay

Bucky ( ˘-___-): I meant that in the most heterosexual way possible

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): when do you ever

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): remember that time you pulled down Steve’s pants while we were at the pool high af

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): because i do

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): and his ass...

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): it haunts me

Steve ♢: i tend to have that effect on people.

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i haven’t been able to sleep since then Steve

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): you monster

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Erik hurry up we’re already waiting outside

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): dont you fucking try to change the subject

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): remember that time you pole danced and strip teased when you were drunk out of your mind

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): because i do

Steve ♢: but that happened last month

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): and yet it feels like an eternity

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Why can’t you guys forget the embarrassing shit I do for like once in your lives.

Sammy: cuz it was fucking hilarious thats why LMFAO I think I still have those polaroid pics somewhere

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): n cuz that’s what friends do

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): and apparently for you friendship is also traumatizing me with steves bare ass and your slutty pole dancing

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i’ve had night terrors ever since

Steve ♢: lol

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Erik. hurry up. before I go in there. and beat you. in the face and ass.

Bucky ( ˘-___-): We’re already late. Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): aw

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): come on you know that my hair takes long

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): shit i should be a model for l'oreal

Sammy: we’re leaving

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): okokokok im going out

Steve ♢: lol be careful

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): we will try

Bucky ( ˘-___-): See you Steve!

Steve ♢: byeee

Steve ♢ is offline

Bucky ( ˘-___-) is offline

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is offline

Sammy is offline

“About time,” Bucky says as he reclines in his seat and pulls down his beanie with a huff, almost fully covering his eyebrows. Sam looks at the backseat through the rearview mirror as Erik lazily opens the door and sits on the middle of the backseat with a groan, his black hoodie still pulled up and hiding half his face.

“Sorry.” Erik says, sounding annoyed and not sorry at all. Both boys can hear the loud trap music coming from one bud of his gold earphones while the other hangs low down his neck. He leans back and closes his eyes, already looking drained of energy before the day even starts. “There was a problem.”

Sam starts his car while keeping both of his hands on the steering wheel, “What happened?” he asks.

“Is Valentina okay?” Bucky also asks, peeking at him over his shoulder.

Erik rolls his eyes at him. “The goddamn cat is fine.” He sighs and sinks further into his seat. “Nah. Do y'all remember my cousin?” Erik taps Bucky’s shoulder to make him fully turn around, as though he wants him to see the pain in his eyes as he speaks. “The one in Wakanda? Annoying, quiet, and thinks he’s better than everybody else?”

Bucky wrinkles his nose in confusion and looks to the side as he tries to remember, but comes up empty. He shrugs.

“Ah,” Sam says, nodding. “Yes, I remember you fondly telling us about him.”

“Well,” Erik says, putting extra emphasis on the word by rolling his eyes once again. “He moved here. Has been at my house all summer. And I have to share my room with him.”

Bucky nods in silent understanding and Sam keeps driving in silence, expecting Erik to continue talking about how his life is full of struggles. But instead Erik sits there with his arms crossed, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips forming a pout like a child. Bucky would call him cute, but starting his morning with a black eye isn’t on his to-do list.

“And um,” Bucky starts, uncertainty in his voice. “That's it?”

“That is it.” Erik scoffs, sliding further into his seat. “I don't want to share my room with him. Shit, I don't want to share it with anyone! Both him and my little cousin, Shuri, are here. They are filthy fucking rich, I don’t get why they gotta live with us.”

Bucky frowns and nods, trying to understand his unique situation. Sam instead feels the need to nervously scratch the back of his neck, but he doesn't want to let go of the steering wheel thanks to his road anxiety preventing him from even looking away. They know that Erik’s mom has been in a… feud of sorts with Erik’s paternal uncle. Erik wasn’t too specific of course, but they remember it made him upset enough to cry. And while they know he’s a soft guy under all the tough facade he puts on – he can’t say he doesn’t cry when watching the pet adoption commercials (“they are all alone, and sad, and the music doesn’t help, you assholes! Stop laughing!”) or that he doesn’t sing his heart out to the opening of his favorite anime – they also know that Erik loves his father, and he loves his mother, but one of them is gone and he has been too overprotective over the only one left. Erik’s hatred for his uncle has not stopped growing since that fight with his mom.

Remembering this, both boys feel an ache in their chest for their friend, wanting nothing more but to make him smile again.

Bucky is not much of a touchy person, so when he stretches to place his hand on Erik’s knee and shakes it in silent comfort, it doesn’t go overlooked. Erik smiles at him, and when he looks to the side of Bucky he sees Sam looking at him intensely.

“What?” He spats out on impulse under the sharp scrutiny.

Sam blinks once, twice, and finally he speaks. “You’re a better person than that old man is, you know.” He slowly says in that therapeutic, soothing voice of his, causing Erik to pause. “You’re a better person than your cousin, who didn’t stand up for you or your dad. You're kind, and you care so much. You— you're not afraid to fight for what's right. You’re way better than them, Erik, don’t you forget that, okay?”

Looking at him with wide eyes, Erik then slowly smiles, thankful for his best friend’s words. It might not fix it all, but it helps, even if just a little bit. He will be caught dead before he ever admits that, though, so instead he says ‘that’s kinda gay’ and laughs when Sam tells him to get the hell out of his car.

“We're here anyways!” He yells out, laughter still present in his voice.

Sam frantically locks his car and rushes to catch up with Erik and Bucky as both argue excitedly about an anime episode that streamed the night before. “Can one of y’all speak English, please?” He pushes them apart to be in the middle of them. “Or Patwah? Me kno ou to speak dat at least.”

Erik playfully elbows him and answers him with that smugness his teachers hate. “Amabini anokudlala oko umdlalo, uyazi,” he answers back, which makes Sam smile brightly and whisper ‘alright, okay, alright’ while elbowing him back.

Bucky, though, smiles and just watches their friendly bickering, finally feeling at home. He missed this feeling. He missed them both so much.

Somehow, they're already in front of their lockers, all three of them stopping together in order starting from Bucky to Sam to Erik. In fact, that’s how they met in middle school. They happened to have been assigned lockers right next to each other when school first started; Erik arrived first and mistook his locker for Sam’s, and when Sam got there Erik wouldn’t let him get close to it. They almost got into a fistfight until they both saw Bucky trying to open the locker they were both fighting for.

Of course, after all three of them were sent to the principal's office, they’ve been best friends ever since.

Erik starts to fumble with his lock, reciting the combination under his breath like he always does with important things he has to remember, until he hears Bucky whisper to Sam to turn around and look.

“Okoye! Koko!” The voice of some girl catches their attention. They turn their eyes to the row of lockers in front of them to see Okoye ‘Koko’ Milaje turn to her girlfriend just in time to catch her as she throws herself at her. Her girlfriend, Nakia, excitedly throws her arms around her middle, burying her face in her girlfriend’s chest. She says something that only Okoye can hear because she laughs brightly, leans down, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

Sam smiles at Bucky, who smiles back at him and says “girls” as though that explains everything and turns to focus on opening his locker. From the corner of his eye he quickly realizes that only two people stop to stare at the couple, and only one looks like they’re disgusted… though they don’t do anything about it, instead opting to turn away from them. Good, Sam thinks. He doesn't have the time for that bullshit so early in the morning. He turns to mention it to Erik, and his friend’s expression is not the annoyed one he expected for witnessing the kiss since he says to hate ‘corny romantic bullshit’ (which is a lie, because he once caught him intensely watching a telenovela in the middle of history class) but instead his expression is just one of...pain.

Sam frowns, confused. Pain...?

“So that’s why he’s here…” Erik whispers, looking away from them.

Bucky peeks over his shoulder and turns to Erik while Sam orderly puts his belongings inside his locker, who is still looking at Erik from the corner of his eye. “Who?” Bucky asks.

“Huh?” Erik stops harshly throwing his books inside his locker to look at him askew. He comes back to himself soon enough though, and he quickly closes his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. “No, nothing. I was just talking to myself.”

Both Bucky and Sam look at each other, and suddenly, they feel the need to ask him about it again because the troubled look on their friend’s face bothers them, but the ring of the school bell interrupts before either of them can say anything.

“Well, gotta go.” Erik sighs irritably, slamming his locker door closed. “See y’all later – ah, wait. Both of you have art first period, right? With, uh, Ms. Minako?” He asks.

Sam nods. “Yeah, why?”

“Okay, so, my cousin.” Erik says, adding an eyeroll for extra measure. “He’s coming to our school.” Sam and Bucky both raise their eyebrows in surprise, and Erik nods. “Yeah, he’s gonna come to school here, sadly. For some fucking reason. Anyways, he’s probably going to be late since his dumb ass didn’t wake up on time ‘cuz he was busy moping around and I wasn't going to wait for him. He’s in the same class as y’all, I believe, so if y'all could, you know, show him around… or whatever… I’d be… uh,” he coughs into his fist. “I, uh, I’d appreciate it. Seriously.” His voice turns quieter and softer as he finishes, eyes cast away. He leans from one side to another on his heels like he always does when he’s impatient or nervous.

Bucky raises an eyebrow and decides to tease him. “Hold up,” he quickly leans over him, causing Erik to step back. “You’re asking us for a favor?”

“And does that mean you actually care about your cousin?” Sam asks, wrapping his arm around Erik’s shoulder to join in on teasing him too.

Of course, it’s a trick question. Both Bucky and Sam already know that Erik cares a lot about his family (except for his uncle) and that includes his so called ‘frigid ass cousin’, despite… current events. Erik is simply not an openly affectionate person and he would never admit that he’s not the ‘cold-hearted ass bitch’ he claims to be. He would rather dump all of his anime-inspired clothing than admit to having any sort of normal human feelings whatsoever.

“Fuck off!” He yells, pushing Sam off him as Sam laughs at his little tantrum, and Erik is suddenly thankful that his brown skin masks the heat rising to his cheeks. “Just – will you do it or not?!”

“Sure,” Bucky smiles. “He’s uh, quiet—”

“Full of himself—” Sam adds.

“Aaaand he’s annoying. Not hard to spot.” Erik scoffs.

Sam laughs and waves him goodbye. “Okay, you should go before you’re late.”

The smaller teen nods and turns around to head to his class, the sound of his boot heels echoing in the empty halls. While they walk towards their art class, Sam wonders what kind of person Erik’s cousin is and if he's as much of a jerk as Erik makes him out to be. Is he just as grumpy as Erik? Just as smart? Does he also say what’s on his mind without a filter? Does he smile? Is he just as direct? Does he care as deeply, but doesn’t show it? Is he just as soft when he wants to be?

… And is he straight?

“Good morning, Sam! Hello, James!” Ms. Minako welcomes them as they enter her room. “You guys are late.” She’s sitting on the same table as the rest of the students there, with a bunch of different colorful objects laid on it.

“Good morning, ma’am.” Sam greets her, Bucky greeting her too with a wave of his own as they make their way to the farthest seats at the other end of the table. Sam sets his backpack to his right with a pleased hum, while his best friend sits to his left and he takes comfort in the fact that nobody will sit by his right side. There’s plenty of other empty seats around so maybe he’ll have some peace of mind this year (last year he had the misfortune of being seated next to Tony fucking Stark). Besides, it’s not like anyone would decide to sit next to Bucky either, because last year the girl that did so ended up being his designated art partner… and let’s just say… not that many people can handle Bucky’s emotional outbursts. So, it’s a win-win that he gets to be with his best friend. Bucky can be a little weird, he won’t lie. But he knows his friend, he knows who he is, he knows his life and he knows what really happened during those years (news media be damned), so he's more than happy to deal with this so called 'trouble kid’ of the school. They don't know him like he does.

Ms. Minako checks them off the attendance list with a smile and counts the class again. It seems there’s students missing, judging from her confused face and her nervous pencil tapping. “Well, I guess most of you are here. Only two students are absent—”

As if on cue there’s a knock on the door, suddenly halting all talk.

“Oh! Must be the new student!” Ms. Minako declares cheerfully. Sam twists anxiously in his seat, leaning over to see who it is. Is it him…? “Open the door for him, please.”

One of the students next to her stands up and opens the door, returning to her seat quietly. From his spot, Sam can see him stride in.

The first thing he notices is his hair, his short fro perfectly shaped and adorning his face like a crown. His clothes look like they are from a quality brand -- elegant, but simple. Sam’s eyes go back up to his face and he finds warm brown eyes staring right back at him. He jumps slightly in his seat and feels his face warm up at getting caught staring, but Erik’s cousin doesn’t seem to mind because he smiles instead, winking at Sam with a tilt of his head.

Sam swiftly turns his eyes to his lap, repeating in his mind ‘STARE AT THE TABLE STARE AT THE TABLE STARE AT THE TABLE’ as he fidgets with a strand of his shirt. This definitely wasn’t on his to-do list either.

He winked at me?!

“Yo,” Bucky whispers to him. “Was it just me or did he wink at me?”

Sam blinks. “I thought he winked at me,” he whispers back.

“... Maybe at both of us? Probably you, though. I’m a mess.” He sighs, laying his head down on the table.

Sam snickers, playfully dragging Bucky’s long wavy hair to cover his face. “You wouldn’t look a mess if you used a damn brush, you lightskin 2-b Rapunzel.”

Bucky flips him off.

From across their seats he hears a couple of girls commenting on the new student’s appearance, one in particular making colorful comments in Spanish to her twin. Sam can recognize her voice without looking. Her name’s Chal, and her sister’s name is Ime. They all hang out together occasionally since their mom is good friends with his mom. They usually play video games when good ones come out and sometimes decide to have some impromptu language classes – the twins teach him Spanish, and Sam tries to teach them Patois, and they more or less manage to learn a couple of words since they use most of their learning time laughing hysterically at each other’s accents instead.

“El diablo,” Chal whispers to Ime. “Papasito… que guapo, no?”

Handsome. Sam hates that he understood that. Seems like those Spanish classes they gave him paid off.

Ime laughs and nods, saying something else to her sister’s ear. Chal giggles in response, patting Ime’s puffy hair bun until her sister pushes her hands away with a smile. Suddenly, Sam wishes he had a close relationship like that with his own sister, but he shakes the thought off as soon as the teacher speaks. Let’s not start the day with a gloomy thought.

“Hi!” Ms. Minako says. “You’re T.… challa... Uda… koh…?”

“T’Challa Udaku.” T'Challa smiles. “It’s okay. Just T’Challa is fine.”

“T’Challa?” Ms. Minako tries again, with a concentrated face.

T'Challa smiles again, and nods. “That’s right.”

Chal elbows her sister, whispering loud enough for Sam to hear. “Suena Africano, no? O quizás del caribe?”

“Africano, me parece.” Ime whispers back.

“Nah, es caribeño.” Chal shakes her head.

“Africano.”

“Caribeño, coño.”

“You have a slight accent.” Ms. Minako asks T'Challa, interested. “Where are you from?”

“I am from Wakanda.” He answers.

A tiny ‘fuck!’ is heard from Chal, but only Ime and Sam seem to notice. He tries not to laugh as Ime elbows her sister in the stomach. These girls.

“New to the country or the town?”

“Both.” T'Challa laughs. “It’s a lovely town.”

If only you knew, Sam thinks, you wouldn’t be saying that. But he shakes the thought off, again, trying not to be negative… again. It’s hard to not to be a pessimist. But enough is enough. He wants to be a therapist when he grows up, goddamn it, so he needs to get it together.

“Well, T'Challa, welcome to the country! Come on, choose a seat. Let’s start the class!” Ms. Minako gestures towards all the empty seats as she checks him off the attendance sheet. T'Challa turns over where a group of loud white boys are seated together, but his eyes pass right over them. He looks at the seat next to Ime and Chal (the latter batting her eyelashes dramatically, making T'Challa smile) and considers it, until he looks over at the end of the table where Sam is.

There’s one empty seat right next to his.

He looks decided then, walking past everyone and stopping right next to Sam with a click of his heels. Not quite believing what’s happening, Sam can only stare at his own hands and ask to whichever god is listening to make T'Challa sit somewhere else. Next to Bucky, even. He’ll do anything. Hell, he’ll stop eating his gran’s mac and cheese! But please, god, don’t let him sit next to him. T'Challa’s too… too…

“Is this seat taken?” T'Challa’s soft voice comes from his right, and Sam makes the mistake of turning his head towards him.

… Too pretty.

T'Challa’s eyes shine like the sun, his hand resting on the table. Sam’s breath hitches as dark brown eyes lock on his. His face is a little too close for his comfort, so Sam scoots back. T’Challa tilts his head to one side in confusion, waiting for him to answer but Sam can only focus on those lovely brown eyes of his, not even caring that the silence is getting a little bit too awkward, but he just doesn’t know what to say because T'Challa’s way too close and—

Bucky elbows him in the ribs, bringing him back to earth.

“Are you feeling alright?” T'Challa’s face turns to one of worry, somehow inching even closer to Sam. “You look—”

“I’m okay!” He blurts out, laughing nervously. He looks at Bucky from the corner of his eye and sees the bastard stifling a smile. Fucker.

T'Challa’s eyes widen in surprise, waiting for him to continue. “I’m—um, the seat isn’t taken, so…” Sam's eyes slide down to the empty chair while fake coughing and pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to play it cool. Oh my god this is too embarrassing why am I acting like this.

“Alright, thank you.” T'Challa’s face lights up and Sam can’t help but smile as well, despite how nervous he feels. T'Challa drops his bag to his side and sits down gracefully on the chair with a smile. “Nice to meet you,” he says with a radiant smile, while offering his hand to him like a proper gentleman.

Sam’s brain has the decency to remember to dry his anxiously-damp hand on his jeans before he shakes T’Challa’s with an equally anxious smile. It’s kind of odd, it almost feels like they’re finishing a business meeting. Why yes, sir, I’m glad we’ve come to the mutual agreement that I’m awkward as hell, let’s shake on it. But it could be a Wakandan thing, who knows. T'Challa has a strong grip on his hand as soon as they touch, and he shakes Sam’s hand with confidence, taking Sam by surprise as the strong shake dips him forward. He has no time to be embarrassed because T'Challa smiles at him and the guy giggles as though stumbling into someone else’s personal space is charming. He lets go of Sam and instead rests his face on his hand, two fingers up to support the crown of his head.

“What’s your name?” T'Challa asks, eyes filled with curiosity.

And it’s at this moment when there’s another knock on the door, catching everyone’s attention.

“Oh!” The teacher exclaims. “Must be the other missing student.” This time it’s her who stands up to open the door, blocking the view of Sam’s eyes to see who it is.

“You’re a bit late, mister.” She reprimands the student. “But it’s the first day, so I’ll let it slide this time, alright?”

“I appreciate it.” Says a deep, and… quite attractive masculine voice.

Ms. Minako stands to the side and shows him the way. “Come on in!”

As soon as the student enters the room he can see exactly who it is. M’Baku walks into the classroom with that confidence Sam is so jealous of, looking as handsome as ever. His dark brown skin glows despite the unflattering light of the classroom, as though M’Baku is the exception to little things like physics. His clothes, of course, always carry a Wakandan theme, showing off the beautiful African patterns and combination of colors.

Sam looks over to the twins and finds Chal fanning herself while looking at M’Baku, who suddenly has a distasteful look on his face when his eyes fall on the only acceptable empty seats in the room. The one next to Bucky, and the one next to the twins. His eyes soon fall on T’Challa, and he falters. He recovers quickly though and walks around the table to sit down right across from him – next to Bucky’s seat.

Sam’s eyes go back to T’Challa, who seems to be… frozen in place while looking at M’Baku. He gets it though. One time, he got to seat behind him in math class and every time the teacher called M’Baku’s name to mark him present, he would stand up and give Sam a great first row view of that—

“So, uh,” Bucky’s voice brings him back to earth. He turns his head towards him and sees him talking to M’Baku, who can’t look less interested. “Guess we’re art partners now, huh?”

M’Baku finally looks at him with a neutral look on his face and says, “I am lactose intolerant.”

Bucky freezes.

Sam completely loses it. He can’t help but laugh out loud, making a spectacle even though he tries his damn best to keep it in. Naturally, he attracts some of his classmates’ eyes, but he just can’t stop. He’s trying so hard, but Jesus. The look on Bucky’s face, he keeps remembering it and can’t help but laugh again.

“Mhm, keep on laughing, man. Just let it all out, you dick.” Bucky tell him as he claps Sam on the back, which only makes it worse.

Ms. Minako finally looks over at him, looking confused and quite annoyed at the noise. “Excuse me, Sam? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Sam, are you alright?” Bucky repeats, faking the worrying tone in his voice as he scoots closer to Sam to look him right in the eye.

“Y-Yes, miss, I’m— I’m fine,” Sam tries to tell her while desperately trying to ignore Bucky’s stupid face. “Thank you. Sorry about—” and he laughs again.

“Do you need to go to the nurse, Sam?” she asks, sounding annoyed.

“Yeah, Sam, do you need to go to the nurse?” Bucky repeats again with that dumb look on his face and it makes it harder for Sam to stop laughing.

“No! N-No, I’m alright. I’m so sorry, miss, please uh, please carry on.” He coughs and bites his lip, mustering all his energy into having a poker face. It doesn’t work, it just makes him look weird with his bulging eyes, tight lips and puffy cheeks… but the teacher is satisfied enough with it to let it go.

“So, uh,” Sam turns to Bucky, a smile threatening to slip past his lips but still desperately trying to look neutral. “Wanna change seats?”

Bucky licks his lips, also trying not to smile, and nods. “Yeah, that’s— yeah, let’s change seats, man.”

Once they’re at their new seats, Bucky turns to T’Challa. “Soooo, guess we’re—”

“I’m also lactose intolerant.” He tells him with a mastered poker face.

Sam lays his head down and covers his head with his arms to tone down his loud laughter, shaking and softly smacking the table with his first a couple times. Bucky can’t hold it in either, leaning forward on the table and shaking his head as he laughs with Sam. M’Baku joins in with a loud and deep ‘HAH!’ and nothing else. T’Challa smiles ever so slightly, and the sight almost makes Bucky stop, feeling charmed by his smile and the soft crinkles at the corner of his eyes. He couldn’t quite get a look at him at first, but now he understands why Sam froze when T’Challa talked to him.

Sam coughs, and looks towards T’Challa, trying to frown in order to cancel out the dumb smile on his face. “Hey man, um, do you— uh, do you… wanna change seats?” He fake coughs into his fist, and Bucky feel his lips twitch. “Or, uh, or something?” Sam bites his lip again, praying to any god that is listening to make him stop laughing.

“I don’t see why not.” T’Challa calmly answers, picking up his stuff and changing his seat with Sam.

Once they’re finally seated, Sam speaks. “Don’t worry, Buck, I got you man. I, uh, you know, I take them lactaid tablets—”

Bucky whizzes out a small laugh, and nods. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” Sam nods as well, patting him on the back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, you ain’t gotta worry about that.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky says, smiling at him. “I know I can always count on you.”

“Nuh-uh, uh!” Sam shakes his finger on his face. “Only as long as I got my lactaid tablets,” he adds, and after a second of dead silence they both laugh loud and hard, Sam leaning on Bucky and Bucky flinching for half a second but relaxing quickly enough against Sam’s warmth.

Sam looks up at him from his shoulder. “Stop making me laugh, man, fuck. My face hurts.”

Bucky shrugs, Sam’s head moving with it. “That’s karma, asshole.”

Sam shakes his head, and closes his eyes, smiling softly. “I hate you.”

Bucky snorts. “And I hate you too, sweetheart.” Sam smacks him for that, whispering ‘gross!’ to which Bucky replies ‘but you like it!’ to which the teacher replies ‘both of you boys better shut up unless you want to be sent to the principal’s office’.

Half way through the class, their phones both vibrate at the same time, and they instantly look at each other. After making sure the teacher isn’t looking at them, they look down to check who texted them from under the table.

Steve♢ is online

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is online

Bucky ( ˘-___-) is online

Sammy is online

Steve ♢: hey hey hey

Steve ♢: Erik told me about his cousin!

Steve ♢: is he cool?

Sammy: …….maybe

Steve ♢: ヽ(　･∀･)ﾉ i’ll get his number then!

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): steve

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): steve im begging you here

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): please dont fuck my cousin

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): p l e a s e

Steve ♢: you know, i wasn’t thinking about that

Steve ♢: but now that you mention it…

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): steve

Sammy: oh btw Erik your middle school crush is in our class

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): my middle school what now

Bucky ( ˘-___-): M’Baku. or did you forget about him already?

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): fuck off bucks

Steve ♢: wait what

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Erik had like… the biggest crush on him back in middle school

Sammy: it was kinda cute tbh he would like… talk to him about this anime he really liked. which he got m’baku to watch somehow someway

Bucky ( ˘-___-): And there was this couple in the show. Real romantic shit you know? Erik would say how M’Baku is so much like the romantic interest of the hero

Sammy: and also how Erik was so much like the hero himself

Bucky ( ˘-___-): M’Baku never got the hint though. But it was cute to watch. A bit pathetic, sure, but cute!

Sammy: and of course a funny story to tell every person he dates lmao

Steve ♢: aww Erik you sweet thing you!

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): this

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): is the worst day of my life

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): ever

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Hey do you remember that stupid song?

Sammy: which one Sammy: “M’baku and Erik sitting under a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G watching A-N-I-M-E”

Sammy: is it that one

Bucky ( ˘-___-): yeah! cute isn't he?

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): IM BLOCKING YOU

Steve ♢: lol erik that’s so cute

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): IM BLOCKING BOTH OF YOU

Steve ♢: cute cute cute

Sammy: cute lol

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is offline

Steve ♢: omg

Sammy: HE ACTUALLY LEFT LMFAOOOO

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is online

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): i forgot to say something :)

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ): FUCK YOU ALL

Bucky ( ˘-___-): Damn that’s hot

Steve ♢: i didn't know Erik was this adorable

Sammy: he aight i guess

Erik ( ಠ ಠ ) is offline

This year is going to be fun.

#stucky #winterfalcon #t'challa x m'baku #t'chucky #erik killmonger x m'baku #nakia x okoye #sam Wilson x t'challa #black panther #black panther fanfiction #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #captain america #my writing #my writings #my fics #yeah.

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