#oh and i also wonder if you can get the black eyes in the game from some potion..ive not tried much alchemy yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellecdc · 3 months

Note

Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds

this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.

“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.

Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.

“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.

“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”

“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.

“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap.

James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby.

“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.

“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.

Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”

You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow.

You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.

Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?

So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.

He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.

But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.

So, you were outside.

It was nice outside.

Well, it was nice enough outside.

You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.

You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore.

As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.

“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly.

He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.

You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.

You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.

“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.

“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes.

“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.

You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”

The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.

Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.

“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.

“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.

“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.

James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.

James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”

“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining.

“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.

“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.

“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.”

James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.

Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies.

Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.

“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”

But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something.

Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.

With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.

“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched.

“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.

“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”

“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.

Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked.

“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.

You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”

Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.

You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response.

Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?

Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.

You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.

Except one.

“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response.

“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled.

“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.

But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.

“Are you going to flirt with me?”

One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.

“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.

Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.

You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!

“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”

You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.

“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.”

These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.

“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.

“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.

“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”

James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”

“James!” Remus scolded.

“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”

Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.

“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded.

“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.

“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.

“Patience.” He spat spitefully.

“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.

“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.

If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.

You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.

A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.

Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.

You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late.

“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.

You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.

“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.

Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.

The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”

You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.

You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.

Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.

“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.

“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless.

“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.

“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.

Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.

“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.

You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”

You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.

“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.

And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.

And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all.

It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.

“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”

He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.

“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.

“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”

The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.

Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.

“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were).

You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.

“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.

Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”

“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.

“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”

“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips.

“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.

“It’s not an act.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.

Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”

Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...

“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.

“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.

Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.

Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.

“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.

“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.

“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.

But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.

Yeah...he was hot.

“Easy.” Remus warned.

“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.

“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.

Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.

“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.

“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.

“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.

“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”

“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.

“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.

“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”

“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose.

You wanted to break his finger.

But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead.

“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.

“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”

“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself.

“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.

“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly.

Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”

“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.

Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.

“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”

And you aren’t sure what did it.

You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.

But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.

You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.

You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.

Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”

You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully.

“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial.

“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.

Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”

“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.

You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.

“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.

“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.

You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”

No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.

“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.

You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.

“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”

“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.

“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.

He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.

“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes.

“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”

“It could be.” Remus input.

“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.

“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.

“Me neither.” Remus added.

“I’m n-” James started.

“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”

You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.

“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”

You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.

“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”

Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.

Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶

2K notes · View notes

enhafilthandfiction · 3 months

Note

ok hear me out (yall have a bet) imagine mutual masturbation with jake, but the one that cums first has to give the other a head.. regardless of the winner j@ke ends up eating you out

Dumb Games - Jake Sim

A/N : Hello everybodyy I. am. back. (after being dead for like 345 months). Anyways, just wanted to say that I missed you all sm! <3 I hope you are all doing well and ready to enjoy reading this fic! Anon tysm this is such a good idea oml esp with bff!Jake 🤭

Pairing : Bff!Roomie!Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Kinda pervy and desperate Jake, mutual masturbation, oral (f.rec), dirty talk (bc cmon it's Jake), panty smelling (sry), some fingering and I think that's it :))

Word Count : 1,268 Words

Masterlist

It was a normal day for you, laying in bed, reading, scrolling through Pinterest, studying, until-

"Y/n? What is thisss?" your roommate's tone which echoed through the corridor told you he was up to some mischief. You lift your head up curiously as he stumbles into your room, your expression quickly changing when you notice what he's holding. "Jake!" you yelp, rolling out of bed to chase after him.

"I didn't know you owned a pink dildo" he lets out amazed, looking back at your tired figure which was still running after him. He giggles and escapes to the living room, settling on the couch as you follow.

"Oh and it vibrates too!" he exclaims in awe.

"Yeah, now give it back" you breathe, trying to catch your breath.

"Nah, come get it" he lifts his arms up and you scurry to get your personal object back, climbing on his sitting figure as you reach for it, but his arms were too damn long.

"Jake, please, just give it back" you sigh, giving up. You don't even realise you're pretty much straddling him in the position you're at until you feel his other hand on your arm.

"How about we make a deal?" he asks, a playful smirk on his face. "last person to make themselves cum wins"

You deadpan at him "Are you kidding?" you ask in a simple tone.

"Nope, and the loser has to finish the other off" he adds, looking at you hopefully. "Plus I'll give you this back so you can use it in the meantime" he shakes the pink object in his hands, flicking his brows up and down.

You've always kinda liked Jake, he was funny and unserious and just your type. But he was also the person you pretty much grew up with. You were scared to lose such a friendship so you never actually made a move. This was your chance.

You roll your eyes in faux annoyance "Fine. You're gonna be the one cumming too quick anyways. We'll see how good you can give head." you shrug, giving him a pretty smile "Now give me my damn dildo back"

He laughs and places the plastic dick in your waiting hand, before looking up at you, smoothing his hands down your sides. You looked so pretty like this on him, he couldn't wait to see you pleasuring yourself.

You get off him too soon, finding your place at the other end of the big couch, spreading your legs as you snake a hands between them. "Fuck" he curses under his breath, his already-hardened cock twitching in his uncomfortable pants.

He also leans back on the opposite end of the couch, quickly untying the stings of his sweats and sliding them down impatiently along with his briefs. His cock springs out, the angry red tip already leaking precum.

You bite your lips at the sight of him, wondering how he'd feel inside you. One thing's for sure; that pink plastic dick wasn't half as good.

You get comfortable, rubbing your clit through you shorts. "Show me that pussy" he instructs, slowly stroking his shaft. You blush red, smiling at his impatience. Nevertheless, you lift your hips up and slide the shorts down along with your panties which you knew were soaked.

Jake didn't hesitate to grab the black material, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. You roll your eyes and sigh at his pervy behaviour. "Jakeee" you whine "That's dirty"

He doesn't seem to care, groaning at your smell and at the sight of you. "Fuck you're glistening" he points out, licking his lips as he speeds up his pace a little. #

You spread your juice around, circling your hole, closing your eyes at the tingling sensation. His lips almost start to draw blood at the way he's biting them, his hand going up and down his cock quicker.

He can't help the way his eyes are fixated on you, watching your expressions and your fingers touching yourself. He knows he's gonna lose the second you put a finger inside yourself, squeezing his base to calm himself down.

You open your eyes to stare at his, as if in a challenging manner, the sounds of your gushing juices fills the room, his curious eyes looking at where you finger yourself.

"Close Jakey?" you ask in a breathy voice which goes straight to his dick.

He breathes in "N-no" he lets out, his shaky voice betraying him. He can't help himself though. You want him to lose, adding another finger to your tight hole and moaning out loud.

He's done for when you purposely moan out his name, sending him into a frenzy, his eyes roll to the back of his head and before he knows it, his hands are drenched in cum.

You sigh at him "I didn't even get to use my dildo" you faux pout when he slowly opens his eyes, recovering from his orgasm.

"You won't need it" he mutters, getting off the couch and making his way to you. He grabs your thighs and positions you so that you're sitting comfortably on the couch. He doesn't waste a second to sink down on his knees, spreading your legs as he takes you in.

"So fucking hot" he whispers under his breath. He's been waiting to taste you for so long. Smelling your panties just made him more impatient. You nod at him when he looks up at you from between your legs and he dives in.

He flattens his tongue and licks up your folds in one go, immediately humming at your taste. He laps up your juices, swirling his tongue around your hole before slightly prodding it in just to tease you. His licks his way up you clit, kitten-licking the little nub sending tingles up your spine.

"Fuck Jake" you breathe out, subconsciously grasping his hair between your fingers. You push his head deeper into you, encouraging him to suck at your clit. He hums at the little tugs on his hair, the pleasurable sting going to his dick.

He licks back to you hole, his nose bumping against your clit, making you whine out. You can't help but close your thighs around his head, engulfing him into you. He brings his hands up to your thighs, keeping them open before he brings one hand to your hole.

You feel like you're going to explode with his finger prodding at your hole and his tongue on your clit, the stimulation becoming too much. "Fuck, fuck r-right there" you moan out, pulling at his hair to ground yourself.

The way he hums against your folds doesn't help, your hips twitching at the feeling. He starts finger fucking you at a quicker pace, his mouth still working on your clit. All it takes is one last suck on your sensitive clit before your squeezing around his finger and tipping your head back in pleasure.

He eagerly licks up your essence before you push his head away due to overstimulation. You catch your breath as he sits up and settles on the couch next to you.

"Hate to admit it but that was one of your best ideas, Sim" you chuckle out, still in a haze.

"I never come up with bad ideas dumbass" he replies, also chilling back into the couch, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.

"We should play this dumb game again sometime" you suggest, trying to place a hint.

"Damn you liked it that much didn't you?" he asked giggling

"It's always nice seeing you lose your own game"

Hi again, thankyou for reading to the end :D I hope you enjoyed it !! Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

Text

DC x DP: Game of Deadly Love

Danny is minding his business, flying through the ghost zone, mapping out areas, when he stumbles across a door that seems like it's between two giant cave walls.

He's never seen anything like it, so he gets curious. When he touches the handle, it is yanked open by a woman dressed in a classy Victorian-era dress made of what looks like grey smoke, pale moon skin and sharp icey black eyes.

He blushes as she smiles at- she's the prettiest ghost he's ever encountered, even though he feels a strange sense of danger from her.

"Hello, dear Prince." She says in a voice that has shivers running down his spine. He's never met anyone so obviously dangerous but hard to resist "I am Gotham, Ghost of misfortune, and my city is in need of a new player"

What?

Gotham flips open a fan, not bothering to hide her amused smile. "My Knights need more kind-hearted mischief. Misfortune of the heart is just what my City needs. Oh, and do me a favor. Get rid of that clown for me."

She taps her fan on his head and- Danny is suddenly falling, forcibly change into his human form.

He can't go Ghost!

He's going to die-er AGAIN!"

"Heeeeellllppppp!" He screams, and just as he is about to give, a body flings itself from the nearest building on a grabbing hook. He is caught in the arms of a man wearing a red helmet who effortlessly flips them in the air and lands on a roof.

He blinks up at the man who is holding him in his arms. "Ugh, hello?"

"Whatever the reason for jumping is, let me help you. " The man growls, and Danny frowns.

"Jump? I didn't jump! Gotham was the one that dragged me here!" He hisses as he struggles to get down. The man makes it hard to get out of his hold.

"Who the hell are you?" Danny snaps when he can't budge the other. Has he also lost his super strength?

"Im Red hood"

"That's the stupidest name I've ever heard."

Red Hood tilts his head "I can shoot you"

"So can unattended toddler; you ain't special."

Danny finally feels his ghost side and witha burst of light he's sinking through the roof away from the startled Red Hood.

He finds himself running through mout Gotham, his powers limited by the city limits and realizes with a horrible start that the only way home is to play Gotham's game.

The only thing is.....he has no idea what game she wants him to win. He'll just have to run around until the objective is found.

Red Hood watches the meta man run from the rooftop, watching his glow disappear around the corner. He sighs, pressing on his communicator to the various voices of his siblings.

"Hey, we may have a suicidal meta-lose in the city. I caught him trying to leap Wayne Tower." He says silencing the others.

Gotham watches her Knight inform his family with a chuckle. His affection rate for the boy is 5% already which means The prince manage to peak his interest with looks alone.

She wonders who will be next to fall for The Prince's Pretty Face and Deadly Might.

Oh what fun this will be to watch. She did enjoy giving her people a hard time.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Gotham threw Danny into a dating App #Danny has to romance the Batboys #Not Damian hes too young #and Gotham sees people as toys

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kingtomura · 2 months

Text

Arcade

Summary: There's nothing worse than getting ditched by your so-called friends on a Friday night. Well, maybe the asshole complaining about your skills at the arcade has that beat. Tomura Shigaraki knows how to make one hell of a first impression. word count: 8.5k Part three to Good Girl and Bloodline Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, fluff, angst, virginity loss, virginity kink, corruption kink, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), praise, strict parents, toxic parents, smut with plot, protected sex, piv, overstim, tomura talks you through it, if you know what i mean, reader is kinda bad at games sry, mdni crossposted to ao3

You meet him on a Friday.

The mall is crowded and filled to the brim with groups of friends, chattering, laughing – wondering what to get into for the night. You’re just trying to find your group. They said that they would meet you here almost an hour ago, but no one has shown up.

Bitterly you kick the small rock in front of you, officially accepting the fact that you had been ditched and decide it’s too early to go home. It’s a Friday night for pete’s sake. You walk aimlessly through the mall, only pausing when the noises of video game lasers and hyper dance music flood your ears.

The arcade. Of course you could kill some time there, people go there alone all the time. No one would think you were out of place and effectively ditched.

You make your choice, beelining for the upgraded rendition of Pac Man and slipping in a coin to start it.

The excitement was short lived as you remembered that the game isn’t as easy as you remembered. Whatever, you take your leave and try for a game you hadn’t played before. Something simple with muted colors. It’s fun, but a little difficult. You find yourself getting lost in it, the sounds drowning out the bustling of the arcade.

You huff as you lose another round and reach down, ready to drop a coin and start up again when you hear an annoyed groan coming from behind.

“Can I help you?” You ask, giving the guy a once over. He wore all black with ashen hair and ruby red eyes that shone with annoyance.

“Yeah, you could find another game to suck at.” He scoffs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Irritating.

You take the challenge. “Oh yeah? Well let's see you try it then, since it’s so easy.”

He shrugs, brushing by you and inserting his own coin into the machine, the beeps of the game starting up and filling tension between you.

This guy… was good at the game — as much as you hated to admit it. He blew through the enemies with little to no trouble and easily passed your place in the game. Ending it all with one final blow to the boss and snagging the new high score right before your eyes.

To say you were embarrassed was a little less than an understatement, but you wouldn’t let him know that. So, you double down, brows furrowed and standing proud.

The mystery man turns back to you, carmine eyes gleaming in triumph over his easy win. “See? You suck.”

You bristle at his blunt insult and bite back. “Yeah, well I only tried this game today! You think you're so good, why don’t you try to beat me at a game I'm good at.”

He looks you over, eyes dragging from your head to the converse on your feet, before turning back around towards the game and dropping another coin into it.

“No thanks.”

This asshole… you don’t know why you're fighting this battle, you don't even know this man! But it would be a lie if you didn’t think it was entertaining —- in an annoying way, of course.

But you take your loss and give up, moving on to the next game. It is something silly and bright, but also difficult. It's easy to get lost in and you find yourself aggressively tapping the buttons, inevitably losing the game and huffing off to find the next one.

You choose a first person shooter this time. Originally a two player game, but you play on your own — taking down zombie after zombie as you try (and fail) to progress to the next stage.

You groan as the game over screen mocks you for what feels like the thousandth time that night and fight to keep from banging your head against the screen in frustration.

“You’re doing it wrong,” a low voice speaks from behind you and you can already feel your anger flaring. “It’s all in the aim.”

“Yeah, well, what do you know?” You ask bitterly, watching as the same asshole from before puts a coin in and starts the game up again.

He makes it look so easy, getting headshot after headshot as he easily advances to the next rounds. There was a moment you swore he would lose as a mob of zombies crowded him, but he hit a flammable container in the background, causing an explosion and killing all of the zombies.

The winning screen lit up his pale cheeks in a red hue, giving him a faux flush of color making the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

You can’t bite back your sigh of defeat this time, the losing streak getting to you. “Did you come over here just to show off? I can do without that, thank you.”

He only shakes his head, putting in another coin and starting the game up again. You stare blankly as he hits the two player button and hands you a gun.

“No, let me show you why you’re not winning.” It's spoken like you asked him for advice and you know damn well you didn’t, but you take the gun anyway because you had no reason not to.

Muttering a taut fine and gearing yourself up for more humiliation, you stand tall and hold the plastic gun up to the screen, ready to shoot incoming enemies.

You jolt when you feel the guy come up behind you, placing his hands over yours and moving them so that you have a better grip on the weapon.

It was so quick and so natural your cheeks began heating for a reason completely different from your earlier embarrassment.

He was so warm, his hands were warm and calloused and you could feel the heat of his body radiating onto your back as he invaded your personal space to show you how to hold the plastic gun.

Your heart hammered against your chest but you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward and face neutral.

It was much easier said than done, you realize as he leans in, his soft hair tickling your ear as he spoke, guiding you through the mini tutorial of how to shoot the zombies.

Everything he said went in one ear and out the other as you could only focus on the low vibrato of his voice, explaining as his fingers ghosted over yours, casually helping you shoot.

The smell of fresh linen and what you could assume was citrus shampoo flooding your nose, making you dizzy as you struggled to listen. You wanted nothing more than to lean back into this stranger, fully feel the warmth of his chest against your back and run your fingers through his soft locks. But you didn’t.

You will yourself to focus on the sounds of the game and his technique, knowing that you will probably be playing the game soon and didn’t want to look silly if your skill remained the same.

Unfortunately, he pulled away sooner rather than later, taking all of his extra warmth and citrus scent with him.

“Do you get it now?” He asks, rasp in his voice having genuine curiosity and you nod, ready to try your luck at the game now.

It seems like his tutoring wasn’t in vain and you both pull out a win, scoring high enough to place your names on the screen.

You can’t hide your excitement from your first win of the night, turning to your new companion as he looked over the other high scores on the board.

“So, what’s your name?” You ask, riding the high of the win and letting the confidence of it guide you. “Because I don't think it would be DustKing like your high score says.”

He gives a small laugh, something tiny and barely there – a mere blow of air through his nose — and looks at you. Those carmine eyes send heat rushing to your cheeks again and spreading to the tips of your ears.

“Tomura.” Is all he gives and you nod, giving him your name and turning back to the arcade game again.

“Wanna give it another try?” You offer, and he gives you a small smile back, dropping a coin into the machine and starting up another round.

“Sure.”

And suddenly, being ditched on a Friday night by your so-called friends isn’t so bad.

—---------------------

The next time you meet Tomura, it is on a saturday afternoon.

The arcade is already bustling with people and the noise almost makes you turn on your heels and walk away. But you don't, instead white hair and dark clothes catch your eye and your feet move before your mind can catch up with the actions.

“Hey!” You greet, a little too chipper and a little too close.

Tomura looks down at you, eyes dropping to your shirt and then back up again. You weren't sure if he had been checking you out or trying to size you up. It makes you falter a bit as he goes back to his game, effectively ignoring you.

The behavior is odd, but you try not to let it bother you. The last time you met the both of you played the silly zombie game until the arcade closed — there was no way he didn’t remember who you were.

You feel a little out of place and the tiniest bit hurt as you take a step back, ready to find any other distraction in the arcade to erase this from your brain.

“Um, okay, bye then—” You start, but you’re cut off by Tomura’s groan. He lost the game and it's difficult to hold back the laughter.

“God, you’re such a distraction. You made me lose!” He barks, riling you up.

Your brows furrow in frustration, you’ve barely said two words to the guy. “How did I make you lose? I just got here!”

“Yeah, and you're being all distracting, with your little shirt and your jeans. What do you want?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The statement is lost on you as your anger takes the forefront. “Don’t blame me because you’re off your game today.”

“I will blame you, because it’s your fault.”

“Whatever, Tomura. Since you’re done losing at this game, why don't you try one you;ll need real skill to play?” you challenge and hope he takes the bait, the irritated narrowing of his eyes shows that he will and you bury your giddiness inside.

“Fine, I'll try it.”

Tomura loses. Bad. And you can't stop the tears from crowding your eyes as you laugh at his misfortune.

“No, why did you rush out so fast?” You hear Tomura’s low growl of annoyance and continue, “This is not that kind of game! Slow and steady wins the race, you know.”

Wiping the tear from your eye, you try again, dropping a coin and gearing up for the next round while Tomura sits beside you, seething. The game starts up again and it's bright and inviting. You strategically tap at the buttons, ensuring that your duck character can make it across the street safely.

It's only when you hear the splash of the fallen duck next to yours that you break out into laughter once more, accidently tapping the button and sending your duck into the open road, ending the game for you both.

“This game is rigged!” Tomura protests, frustration palpable and scowl deep on his face.

You only shrug, knowing it's not an easy game, “Well, I'm sure you’d say that about any game you aren't good at.”

“That's a lie.” He states. Blunt and firm. This guy… He’s so rude, but so cute. You want to bite him.

“It's not,” You keep your voice light as you tease, not wanting to push him too far. “You don’t have patience so of course you would lose.”

“I could beat you at other games.”

This piques your interest, brows flying up. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He shrugs, irritation all but dissipated. “Mario Kart. 200cc. It takes patience and it’s not rigged.”

You take the bait, fingers twitching in anticipation, “Sure, but look where we are. There is no Mario Kart here.”

The look tomura gives you makes you wonder if you’d asked if the sky were blue. “I have Mario Kart at my house. Stop by and I'll kick your ass at it.”

You are stubborn, and decide fine. If he wants to be cocky, then you could bring him down a notch. “Alright, let's go and we'll see.”

He nods and you both take off, leaving the noise and excitement of the arcade behind.

Tomura was not lying when he said Mario Kart required patience.

You were currently in his room, on his bed as you try and fail to correct your character's position on the race track. You were stuck against a wall and slowly turning the opposite way, meanwhile, the other karts whip past your character — mocking while you firmly sat in dead last.

The small laugh Tomura gives is enough to send you into a rage. Standing up, you grip the controller with force, twisting and turning with it as if it would give you more control over your character. It did not.

“Oh, come on!” You shout.

“You have to use your brakes at this speed.” Tomura supplies, his character crossing the finish line and cheering at its win.

Your frustration is blinding because once again, those large, warm hands were covering yours, Tomura’s low voice filled with amusement as he guided your character to the finish line.

Embarrassment wasn’t enough for what you were feeling. Not only did you talk shit and lose, but you needed help from him again.

He pulls away and you fleetingly think it’s too soon, watching as Tomura grabs his own controller and flips through the options. “We could try a slower cc. 200cc is brutal to newer players.”

“You knew that and you still let me play it?” He clearly set you up, you bitterly realize as you sit next to him on the bed, watching the screen.

“Yeah, for all I know you could have been a prodigy. You weren't though, so it’s nothing I have to worry about.”

“Hey!” You scold, smacking his arm and grabbing the controller. “Fine. Let's do 50cc and see how good you are.”

Tomura shrugs, plucking the item from your hand and getting more comfortable. “Sure, but don’t think slower races will mean you’re better.”

The next race goes about the same as the first one, but at least this time your character sticks to the road and you’ve even placed higher this time. Eighth place! Take that.

“Impressive,” Tomura drags, voice stripped of malice and insults. It was a small feat, but still better than twelfth place.

It's hard to keep your excitement down, a stark contrast to Tomura’s reserved demeanor. You’ve only met him recently but he's already perfected the way to get your feathers ruffled and rile you up.

“Yeah, well I'm going to buy the game and practice on my own. Just wait, you’ll be in last place soon.” You had the gaming console, but never this game. It wouldn’t be too steep of an investment.

Tomura hums, pondering a moment before responding, “You could always just come over and practice. No need to waste the money when I have it.”

His words make you pause, slowly realizing where you are and who you're with. Some guy you met at the arcade — in his home, in his room, playing video games. How did that happen so fast? Your parents would kill you.

“I guess.” You look around, suddenly wanting to find anything else to focus on that isn’t the man beside you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never really been alone with another guy before. Especially not in his room. Sure, you had all kinds of male friends, but never any this close. It made you… nervous. And warm.

Very warm. Something that spread from the pits of your abdomen and crawled its way back up into your cheeks.

You hoped Tomura wouldn't notice your blush and searched your brain for any way to get out of this situation.

But then he was speaking again and god, was his voice always this low?

“Do you want to go another round?”

“Huh?” You stammer, looking over and it was a mistake because you were forced to notice how close you two were sitting, on his bed of all places. You shake the thoughts from your head, “y-yeah, we should play another round.”

You reach for the controller and Tomura stops you, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Hey, what's your problem?” Blunt. Rude. Fucking cute.

It's settled. You hate this man.

His brows furrowed as he moved closer, examining your face as if he could peer into your mind with his eyes alone. It made you want to shrink away, but that would only make his observation worse.

“Are you... getting nervous?” Your eyes widen at the words and you pull away completely, shaking your head,

“No! Of course not.” You cross your arms in a huff and absently wonder if you could take your leave now.

“You are,” he decides, a slow grin creeping across his face, “Why?”

You're sure the ground will open up and swallow you whole if you just wish hard enough for it. Maybe then Tomura would back up out of your personal space and shut up.

“I'm not nervous.” You bluff, praying he won’t see through you.

“I know why.”

You brace yourself for mortification.

“It’s because you know you’re going to lose.”

He has that smug smile on his face and it hits you.

He has no idea. Tomura doesn’t get it — he thinks you’re upset about the game and not the fact that you can smell the citrus of his shampoo and see the flecks of black in his red eyes.

God, maybe he’s an idiot.

You want to kiss him.

“Don’t be nervous,” he assures, giving you a little smile and grabbing the controller again, “I’ll walk you through it.”

There was something about Tomura’s choice of words that made you think maybe, just maybe, he had a little more of an idea about your mood than he let on. You press your thighs together, praying it was subtle, and mentally push away the arousal you began to feel at his low tone of voice.

“Sure.”

The next round you both play goes the same as the others. Tomura winning and you barely breaking the top ten. Your frustration was becoming palpable as it no longer was fun to see your character cry at the end of the match.

“We don't have to play anymore.” You look over at Tomura’s words and he’s stretching, eyes closing at the movement. You can't help but notice the sliver of his exposed abdomen as he reaches up.

You get a glimpse of his lithe figure and feel your mind begin to wonder what the rest looks like, but cut your thoughts short as he adjusts and meets your eyes again.

You should get out of here before you embarrass yourself.

“Where are you going?” Tomura questioned, the minute you stood to leave.

“Um, home? It’s getting late.”

“Not that late. C’mon, it’s a Saturday. You have somewhere to be or something?” He’s getting up and you can only assume it's to get another game. You are correct because he turns to show you the case and it’s of a white goose. “This game is more fun.”

You look at the time on your phone and shrug. He's right, it's not that late — there should be no harm in staying a little longer.

So you do.

And it’s worth it as you both watch two geese in the game with excellent teamwork terrorize a farmer.

“Okay, you distract him and I’ll take his hat.” You were on a mission and Tomura indulged you, making his goose honk while yours swooped in, effectively stealing the hat and allowing you both to progress to the next level.

“Hah! I knew that would work.” You feel elated as you watch the geese move on, waddling across the screen and into the next area, “And you’re not so bad yourself, for a goose.”

Tomura huffs a laugh, shallow and light before turning to you, “I carried you that round, but okay.”

You haven't known each other long, but he already knows his way around getting you riled up.

The comment makes you turn so that you are better positioned on his bed, one leg still hanging off the end of it while trying not to puff your cheeks. You would be fighting a losing battle if he saw how riled up you were.

“Hey, I’m the one who told you where the picnic blanket was!”

“Okay? And who brought everything to the blanket?” he leaned forward, invading your space and challenging.

You didn’t back down, both of you so close, almost nose to nose. “You. but only after I found everything.”

The distance between the two of you was slim, and the air was heated, his crimson eyes looked down at you with that smug smirk on his lips and you wanted to bite him.

Or kiss him.

Whichever came first.

Tomura followed your line of sight and it only made his smug expression worse, if that were even possible — yet neither of you backed away. His lips parted like he was on the edge of saying something, but was cut off by the peppy chime of your phone’s ringtone.

That seemed to dissipate some of the tension between you two as it caused you to back away and scramble to find your phone on his bed.

Once you’ve gotten it and answered, there’s the familiar voice of your mother on the other end, worrying about where you are and questioning when you would be home, standard practice for her. After many reassuring yeses and “i’ll be there soon”’s you are finally free of the call, now knowing that you have to wrap this up and head out.

“Who was that?” Tomura questioned and his voice seems loud in the quiet of the room.

You turn back to him and his eyes are waiting, expecting. He’s not doing anything but looking at you and it still feels like he can see all of you, as if you’re naked and bare, exposed completely.

“My mom.” You can’t help the small shrug of your shoulders, feeling a little embarrassed at how uncool it could look to have your parents keep tabs on you all the time.

“Aww,” Tomura coos, and it's said more like an afterthought, something to fill the air as he leaned forward — finally, finally closing the distance between you both and kissing your lips.

It shocks you as you feel the soft cotton his duvet hit your back, Tomura’s lips still pressed to yours as he pushed you down. They were rough but so warm, just like the rest of him, and your hand seeks his hair, finally indulging in the urge you’ve had to touch it since you’ve met him.

He groans when you give it a tug and you whimper when he bites your lip a little too hard. It drives you crazy and Tomura wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping over yours as his hands slide up your shirt. You let out a gasp when he cups your breast, taking a sensitive nub between his forefinger and thumb. The feeling has you mewling into his mouth and arousal soaking your panties.

It doesn’t take much to get you riled up, especially since the furthest you’ve ever gone with a guy is a kiss here and there.

Tomura crowds your senses as he hovers over you, caging you below him as he sits between your spread legs. Your heart races as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, you don’t know how far you’re going to go, but you definitely did not think you would be losing your virginity today.

He pulls away, lifting his shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor of the room. You waste no time taking in the new sight of his exposed chest, desperate to reach your hands out to touch.

But Tomura was back down again before you had a chance to, his mouth making its way down your jaw and neck leaving kisses and licks in its wake. It’s sensitive, especially when Tomura sucks right on a particular spot on your neck, making you cry out.

“D-don’t leave a mark.” You stutter, words nearly lost to the pleasure.

“Why not?” The warmth of his tongue licking the area he’d just sucked on was making you shiver.

Your hands were gripping his shoulder, desperate for any kind of grounding. “Because my parents. They would k-kill me.”

Tomura hums, seeming to take your concern into consideration before pulling away. You’re worried you’ve blown it and ruined the mood, but he just tugs at your shirt.

“Get this off.”

You can feel the heat on your face, from the kissing, but now you feel it burn more as you gaze at the man above you. The words make you stall, process what's going on — what you should do.

No one’s seen you without a shirt, especially not in this situation, but honestly? Who cares. You’re an adult, you can and will make your own choices.

There’s no one else in this room but you and Tomura, so when you sit up to remove your shirt and bra, catching Tomura’s eyes scan your newly exposed body, you can’t help but smile at the chill of excitement that dances down your spine.

It makes your heart flutter so you pull him back into a kiss and back down onto the bed, fisting your hands in his ashen locks again and savoring the groans he made.

Tomura makes his way down again, taking your right breast into his mouth and tweaking the nipple of your other with his free hand. The sensations are overwhelming and you moan, arching your back and trying with all you had to pull Tomura closer.

He obliged by lowering his hips and grinding down against you, the press of his erection against your clothed cunt drives you wild. Tomura comes back up, claiming your mouth again and he is demanding as he deepens the kiss, giving you everything you wanted and more.

You wanted to take it further, needed to take it further, but you weren’t sure how to progress from making out. Telling Tomura you were a virgin would probably make things awkward and you were going to lose it if everything ended here.

Tomura pulls away to look at you, flushed and red while you ponder what to do with your hand placement. You decide to wrap them around Tomura’s neck, pulling him close enough that he rests his forehead on yours.

Your breaths intertwine as you both stare at each other in a daze.

“What?” He asks first, breathless and curious.

You cut your eyes to the side, hoping your scoff came off as unconcerned instead of wildly nervous, “Nothing! Nothing..”

Your tone is not lost on Tomura as he narrows his eyes, gears turning in his head and piercing gaze seemingly looking through you and into your deepest thoughts. “Why are you being shy like a virgin?”

The way you purse your lips gives you away and you do everything to avoid his gaze, which is hard when you’re both so close to each other.

“Oh my god, you are.” There’s a whimsy excitement in his voice and suddenly, embarrassment is creeping its way back into your mind, “why didn’t you say so?”

You look up as Tomura pulls back, his smile open wide on his face, ill hidden elation buzzing in his words.

There’s your innate need to defend yourself and your honor rising up again and you can’t stop yourself. So what if you’re a blushing virgin. “Yeah, so? Aren’t you?”

His shoulders give a small shrug, “Maybe.”

Then he’s down again, lips next to your ear as his hands trailed down your waist, leaning goosebumps in their wake.

“Have you ever made yourself cum before?” He asks and you can feel his smile against your ear.

Embarrassment has officially taken the forefront of your mind as you weakly shake your head no, “I’ve tried, but when I get close the feeling goes away.” Might as well be honest since it can’t get more vulnerable than this.

Tomura hums, one hand reaching to take your hand in his, “I could show you how, if you want.”

You feel his hand drag yours lower, down your body and to the hem of your pants and stop, waiting for a response. It feels like your nerves are in overdrive and you writhe below him in anticipation, nodding your head, “P-please.”

Tomura pulls away, taking his warmth with him as he reaches down to unbutton your pants, removing them and leaving your panties.

“You’re soaked.” He muses, causing you to whine in anticipation. “Show me how you do it.”

And you do, slipping your hand under your panties and biting back a moan as your middle finger rubbed circles on your clit. You were dripping wet so your fingers glide easily and the feeling makes your eyes close.

It's a song and dance you are familiar with in the heated nights of your bedroom. Trying and failing to make yourself cum because you’ve read about it, it’s supposed to feel good, but you just can't get there.

Tomura watches on, absently palming his erection and watching you touch yourself. As much as he wanted to reach down and help you out, there was something about seeing you whine and writhe in his bed that made his brain wild.

You were getting close and you knew because there was that familiar sensation of heat pooling in your lower belly, it was a pressure that got more and more intense as you chased after it, but every time, your hands would get tired and you would lose it. And with the momentum gone, you lose the orgasm.

Your furrowed brows went from aroused to frustrated within the span of a second as, once again you’ve unintentionally denied yourself release.

“Fuck,” Tomura breaths, hand now fully in his sweat pants as his breathing picks up, “you were close.”

“I know!” You whine, unsure what to do now, but Tomura has a few things in mind. He pulls his hand from his pants, not wanting to ruin his own orgasm and hooks his fingers on both sides of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them to the side.

You were fully exposed and the only thing keeping you from pressing your thighs together and holding your dignity close was Tomura between them.

You wish he wouldn’t look so much, but he does, drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt and licking his lips. You’re about to call him out of it before he dips back down, capturing your lips in his and it distracts you.

It distracts you so well that the press of his thumb over your slick nub makes you cry out, the pleasure sudden and better than you imagined. Tomura devours your moans, rubbing slow circles onto your clit and easily picking up where you left off. Your hands find purchase on his back and your toes curl at the sensation.

He had just started, but it was just right and you couldn’t stop yourself from arching your back, desperate for more and overwhelmed by the stimulation.

“T-tomu..” You moan as you feel the horizon of warmth again and bury your face into his neck.

“Yeah,” his lips are by your ear again and you close your eyes, fully focusing on the feeling of his thumb working your clit and his low voice in your ear, “Just let go for me.”

And it all hits you, pussy pulsing in pleasure as you come undone, your cries muffled by your face in his shoulder. It feels like the end of a long marathon as the bliss spreads through your body like a warm blanket.

You could only lie there as Tomura pulled away, kissing your sternum and all the way down until he was at eye level with your cunt. The action confuses you because he had just made you cum so why was he..?

“What are you doing?” You ask, confusion muting the buzz in your head.

His eyes meet yours, mischievous glint in them sending the butterflies in your stomach wild. “We’re not done yet.”

And before you could question the man further he dips down, warm and wet tongue meeting your slit and diving into your slick entrance. The action makes you jolt, keening at the sensation and thighs reflexively closing against Tomura’s head. This action only spurred him on further as he lapped and dipped his deceptively long tongue in and out of your wet entrance, sticky slick walls clamping down on him as he sloppily ate you out.

He was relentless as he drove your pleasure up the wall — blowing your previous orgasm out of the water with this new sensation.

“Fuck, tomu — fuck its..!” You can’t form a coherent sentence because the pleasure was only building and building, giving your brain no time to catch up with your words. Your hands immediately found purchase in his hair, the soft ashen locks grounding you as he continued his actions, unbothered by your tight grip.

Tomura decided to move up, licking his way from your hole to your clit, the overstimulated bud was next on tomura’s list as he lapped and kissed your bundle of nerves.

The actions make you cry out, mind muddled as your body tries to figure out if you want to be closer or further away from the sensations. You don't have much time to reach a conclusion either as Tomura sucks your clit and your second orgasm of the night quickly builds up and spills over, making your back arch from the bed and your legs shake in pleasure.

It feels like your mind is completely blank as tomura gives your cunt a final lap and your clit one last kiss before returning to meet your eyes again.

You were face to face now and watching him grin down at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had made a deal with the devil himself as your mind swam in the pleasure radiating throughout your body. It all felt surreal, and your eyes naturally closed, enjoying the feeling of your second climax.

“Aw, don’t tap out on me now, I haven’t even given you the final boss yet,” you hear Tomura coo, finally moving to remove his sweatpants and boxers and oh—

You watch his cock bob between his legs and panic internally as you wonder how the hell that would fit inside of you.

It’s like Tomura could read your mind, because his laugh brings you back to the present, “don't worry about it, promise it’ll fit.”

You don't know if you should trust him on that, but you do — mentally preparing yourself as Tomura leans over you and into the drawer of his bedside nightstand. He pulls out a square foiled packet and it’s in that moment you realize – no, he was not a virgin and only humoring you.

You don't have much time to dwell on it though because in no time he has the condom on and is lining himself up with your entrance.

The nerves are making themselves known as the reality of your situation starts to set in. The thoughts don’t flood your mind for long because Tomura takes your chin in his hand, demanding your undivided attention as he slowly pressed into your cunt.

The pressure of the stretch makes you whimper and your eyes reflexively close, but he was only getting started. It was the somewhat soothing feeling of Tomura’s thumb stroking your cheek that kept you grounded and able to withstand more of the stretch.

Little by little, Tomura pushed on, guiding you with his words and reassuring you that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He was right up against your ear, the familiar smell of his shampoo bringing you comfort as your bodies intertwined.

“That it,” he guided, voice low and hips still as he bottomed out. You felt so full. It was a sensation you’ve never imagined and could only whine as tomura started to pull back. “I’m gonna move now.”

Even though the pain was there in the initial thrusts, there was also the feeling of dull pleasure, slowly growing and growing until the previous pain had all but gone away and now you were floating in ecstasy as Tomura’s thrusts began to speed up.

You gripped at his forearms as he gained momentum, hips rocking into yours and making you moan.

“You like that?” he husked, lips brushing your throat as his hips snapped forward and hit a particularly sensitive spot inside.

“F-fuck, again, do that again,” you cry and Tomura focuses his attention right where you want him to. The feeling is euphoric as you feel a different kind of coil tightening in your lower abdomen. A feeling that makes your toes curl and your thighs tense and it's hit again and again.

Tomura lets out a low groan, his own pace becoming unsteady as time went on. “You’re so tight..” he murmured, reveling in the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on him, “‘s like you’re sucking me in.”

You’re nearing the end again, you can feel it, but you don't want to be. This all felt so good. “Tomu, I-I’m—”

Tomura cuts you off, pulling away to look you in the eyes, his ruby red gaze was hypnotizing. “Just let go, I’ve got you.”

And you do, that’s all it takes for you to tip over — mind rushing in bliss as your heart fluttered at his words.

You felt this orgasm deep in your bones, the overwhelming feeling of clarity and contentment settling within you as you were now along for the ride, enjoying Tomura’s increasing erratic pace while he chased his own orgasm.

“Oh, fuck—” he pants, following behind you with his own climax. His eyes were squeezed shut as he rode it out, slowing to a stop and dropping his head onto your shoulder.

The heavy breaths between you were the only sounds in the room as you stare at his ceiling — noticing the faded out green stars above. So faint you were sure they had been placed there years and years ago. It brings a warmth to your chest, something new among your many new feelings you’ve felt today.

“Next weekend,” Tomura starts, still sounding a bit winded as he pulls out — and you wince at the soreness, the pain not really something you were prepared for — and lays next to you, “Next weekend we’ll rematch in Mario kart. I’ll help you get better.”

You smile, the buzzing excitement making you flush, “Okay, let’s do it.”

The next morning is one that leaves you with a forming pit in your belly. It is a Sunday morning, and Sundays are the day’s your family loves to enjoy a homemade breakfast and sit together at the table like a loving family.

And they were loving! Loving and observant.

You felt as if your parents knew. Like they knew where you had been yesterday — somehow seeing through your foolproof lie of hanging out with an old school friend, but things were quiet.

Everything on this Sunday morning had been proceeding as normal. Your parents were sitting across from you, none the wiser and laughing about a show they watched last night while you were out.

It did not feel real. It felt like there was something you were missing, as if they were omnipotent and knew your every move. Knew that you were no longer their shining star child, that you had been up to things that were everything but innocent.

You feel the same, physically. Maybe a little sore from how rough Tomura had gotten, but other than that, normal.

“Sweetheart,” your father’s voice calls you, cutting through your paranoia, “could you pass me the syrup, please.”

And you do, maybe with too much haste, but he does not comment on it. Instead he just pours the sugary liquid onto his pancakes and continues. “So your mother and I were thinking,”

Oh, god. They knew.

“We know you’re taking a semester off, but if you aren't happy with that college, we could look into other’s for you.”

Your shoulders relax. It’s just college talk, again. That was talk you could handle.

“Um, yeah. That’s okay with me. I could always use more options.”

Your father smiles, “That’s our girl. Always so flexible with her options. We know it takes a lot of strength to take a break, but you did. We’re so proud of you.”

The smile that graces your face is pitiful and filled with guilt that you prayed was not obvious. They really saw the best in you, no matter how suffocating they were. so it’s only right you follow the path that they lay out for you.

“Our girl could never do any wrong,” your mother chimes in, chipper and full of admiration, “you’re just so smart.”

You only nod, now trying to tune them out as they go back and forth, discussing possible college they believed would be best for you.

It really makes you wonder just how far that love and pride stretched when their angel of a daughter strays against what they expect of you.

—-------------------------

And not even six months later that same love and adoration is tested, put on the line and shown bare as your enraged parents look down at you.

The same parents who doted on you about how much you made them smile. You who had made them so proud and apparently brought them so much joy.

It’s suffocating as you sit right back on the very same couch where it all started, listening to a lecture from your mother about the woes and pains of having such a disobedient unruly child.

Even though you’re an adult.

Even though you can make your own decisions about your life.

It’s maddening having to listen to your once so meek and complacent mother go on and on about how she would have never snuck around with some boy she’s only known for a few months. How she would never lie to her parents about her whereabouts and how it’s just unheard of that you would turn your location off.

You shake your head, they wouldn’t understand. Your father wouldn’t even look at you. “Mom, please..” you start, wanting to offer anything to break up the nonstop lecture.

“I just don’t understand!” Her voice is so high it’s nearly a yell, and your mother makes it a point to never yell. “He’s just a man! Why would you put yourself and your future at risk for some guy?”

“He’s not just some guy.” You mumble and curse yourself for trying, they would never see it your way.

There is a buzz from the phone in your pocket and you habitually grab for it, pulling it from its place and you are not given a chance to check the notification before your mother snatches the device from your hand.

“And no phone! This damn phone is the root of all your problems in the first place.”

Disbelief mars your features as the constant drilling catches up with you. “You can’t do that!”

She only folds her arms across her chest, head tilted in challenge, “I can’t? Watch me. You’re lucky we haven’t put you on the street yet with how irresponsible you’ve been.”

It’s hard to understand what’s so irresponsible about taking birth control and practicing being safe. But you knew it was deeper than that. It was deeper than the boy and it was more than sex.

They hated the lack of control they had over you and how it waned with every passing day.

“So, what, was this guy supposed to be the love of your life? Someone you would just run away with and expect to support you?”

Your mother’s voice grates on your ears and you just wish for this conversation to be over, you want this entire thing to be over and done with. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The defeat is evident in your voice and you shrug. “Can I go now?”

They are beating a dead horse at this point and you’re over it.

To your surprise, no one stops you as you rise, allowing you to take your leave before the tears clouding your vision could fall.

The defeat you feel is deep and you can’t even muster the energy to slam your door shut, opting for a quieter close. The fragile click of your door was so soft and it felt as if you were made of glass. To slam the door would only make you shatter into a million pieces onto your bedroom floor.

How foolish of you to think there could ever be a world where you had autonomy in a house filled with hawks.

Your bed greets you with its cozy warmth and you allow yourself to fall apart there, letting out all of your despair and frustration into your pillow and leaving the pieces of your soul to be picked up in the morning.

It’s been a week.

A long, boring, drawn-out week.

You are without your phone, without wifi and without your parents car — so you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried.

It’s been a long week of nothing, not even from Tomura. You assume he can put two and two together and figure out something has gone wrong. The thought brings you a little peace, but not for long.

You barely leave your room and barely say two words to your parents. The isolation is… lonely.

Even if you went out to the living room to watch television, you run the risk of running into one of your parents — and you can really do without another lecture. The only thing on your mind this past week has been Tomura. What was he doing? Did he pick up on your silence? Last time he showed up at your house, but that’s not happening this time around.

You sit up from your bed, realizing that sitting around rotting away would drive you mad, and look to your window. The sun was setting and dusting the rest of the world in pretty orange and pink hues. It would be nightfall soon, and you don't think you could spend another night in this room, alone.

So, against all better judgment, you open your window, look back to listen for any suspicious footsteps — the lack thereof giving you the greenlight — and climb out of your window, stumbling on to the ground as you try to regain your footing from the drop.

You weren't sure where your feet were taking you, but you didn't care, the feeling of fresh air against your cheeks was all you really needed for a clear head.

Your feet lead you to the mall, the start of all your problems and the beginning of your independence.

It felt strange, seeing all kinds of happy faces throughout the mall. Blissfully unaware of their freedoms and enjoying their night. The jarring feeling pushes your feet to the familiar route, flashing colors and blaring music of the arcade greeting you.

It’s comforting, in a way. But you didn’t bring any money. You didn't bring anything but what you were wearing so you could only look around, watching friends and couples alike laugh together.

There's an area near the back of the arcade with tall barstools and empty tables. You decide to take a seat there and sulk on your own. At least you were no longer trapped in your room, forced to watch your four walls while the days passed you by.

You were in a daze, tracing the brown lines on the wooden table with your eyes, until someone interrupted you by sitting right next to you. You turn to face the culprit, less than friendly words on your tongue and ready to let whoever have a piece of your mind.

But you stop in your tracks as ruby red eyes look down at you.

Tomura.

He was here, next to you and your heart fluttered at the realization.

“What’s your problem?” He joked, rasp in his voice comforting to your ears.

You don’t stop yourself from pulling him into a hug, his black hoodie soft and familiar. “How did you know I was here?” You mumble into the fabric and miraculously Tomura understands you.

“I didn’t.” The admission causes you to pull back, looking up at him through your long lashes. “None of my calls or texts went through, and I tried to stop by but your dad was suspiciously outside.” He brings a hand to your head, brushing your hair back and giving you a small smile. “I still like coming here, so I did. Something to pass the time. Ironically, I saw you walk by.

You hum, fighting the pout that wanted to make its way onto your face. “They took my phone. They took everything, even the birth control pills. I can’t keep living like this, Tomura.”

“I know.” He responds, soothing your nerves even with his presence. “I can get you another phone.”

The suggestion only makes you shake your head, it doesn’t tackle the real underlying issue.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time before they find that too. We’ve seen that they aren’t above going through my things. It’s hell. I can’t do it anymore.”

This seems to make Tomura ponder, taking your words in and running them through his mind for a solution. His expression is fixed when he looks back at you.

“Then don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t go back home.” He elaborates, “Come stay with me. My place is big enough, it shouldn’t matter.”

You are shaking your head before you realize, pulling away from him with a stern look. “No, no I can't do that. I can’t impose on you like that.”

Tomura gives you a halfhearted glare. “It’s not imposing if I'm offering. They’re assholes, and I'm usually home alone anyway. Well, besides Kurogiri.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, “C’mon, just go home tonight, pack a bag and then meet me here tomorrow. Can you do that?”

There was no other option you would want more so you nod, giving a short okay as Tomura presses his lips to yours.

It's set — by this time tomorrow you will be free.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #mha x reader #my works #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki smut

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tonyspank · 11 months

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS

Summary: Months after admiring the girl from afar, you finally begin your relationship together.

Warnings: smut and idk…

Words: 9.3k

A/N: Longest imagine ive ever wrote. So please bare with me i did not edit or revise this

Vada Cavell x Footballer!GP! Reader

You walk through the crowded hallways, a black bookbag hanging off your shoulder. You look around and see the people you know, and those you don't. You make your way to your classroom, immediately recognized by your best friend. "There she is!" He shouts from his seat, raising his hands in the air.

"Ethan... it's like eight in the morning. Why are you shouting?" He laughs and pats the seat next to him. You take your seat and start to unpack your bag. "Coach cancelled practice for today. Something about giving us time to mentally prepare for the game."

You raise an eyebrow in surprise. "That's so unlike him." Ethan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but I'm not complaining. It's nice to have a day off."

"Wanna hang out after school?" You ask, placing your notebook on your desk. The brown-haired boy leans into his chair, a smug smile on his face. "No, can do."

A smile makes its way on your face. "What's that look for?"

He shrugs, "Oh, nothing. It's just that Mia Reed and I are going to this Taylor Lift concert together."

You snort at the mess up of the Singer's name. "You mean Swift?" He rolls his eyes. "Yes, that's what I said, Taylor Swift." You shake your head, amused. "Just don't make that mistake in front of Mia."

Ethan has had a crush on Mia since middle school. But he's always been too scared to talk to her, so he'd always comment and support her dance videos on Instagram. He would often try to find ways to run into her, but he could never find the courage to talk to her.

"Wait," You furrow your eyebrows, turning to Ethan completely. "How did you even finesse a date with Mia Reed?" Ethan smiles and shrugs. "What do they say again? Drunk words are sober thoughts?"

You shake your head and laugh. "I was drunk out of my mind during Max's spring break party, and then I saw Mia... and I just went for it." You had seen Mia around school but had never actually talked to her.

You were surprised that she even agreed to go out with him. Ethan could be surprisingly daring when he wanted to be. "You're a brave guy," he holds up a finger. "A brave drunk guy!"

"Also you'd never believe who else I seen at Max's party." "Who?" you asked, curious. He grinned, "Fucking baby Adam Sandler, Vada!"

You stared in disbelief. "You're such a liar." He shakes his head, sitting up in his seat. "Bro! I swear to god! She was there! In her oversized clothes and everything."

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. He laughs at your facial expression, "Maybe if you had gone then you could've seen yourself." He says in a sing-song tone.

You shake your head and turn away, still unconvinced. He laughs again, "Well, believe me, or not, I'm telling the truth." He shrugs.

Your teacher then walks into the classroom. You glance back at him, trying to figure out if he's telling the truth. He winks at you and turns away, leaving you unsure. As your teacher brings the lesson your mind wanders off.

Vada Cavell, whose last name you only found out due to her Instagram page. Kind of like Ethan, you've been liking Vada for a while but never built up the courage to talk to her or ask her out.

It's been months of admiring her from afar. She was beautiful in person and you found yourself totally mesmerized by her. You liked the way she dressed, unbothered by how anyone else thought of it, you liked the way her smile lit up the room.

You just had to talk to her, but you hesitated. You felt like you could never measure up to her. You wondered if she could ever like you, too.

You only seen Vada talk to her friends from the beginning of the year. It was Nick, Mia, and Quinton. You felt like an outsider, not part of their group.

You were too shy to approach her, and you were afraid of getting rejected. You also felt like you were the total opposite of Vada's type, so you decided to stay on the sidelines and admire her from a distance. You wanted to get to know her but you weren't sure how to start a conversation.

The rest of the day went by fast. Before you knew it you were back home, greeted by your cat and your mom. "Hey, honey. You're home early."

Your mom speaks up from the kitchen, while your cat rubs itself against your leg. Taking off your jacket and bookbag, you smile and reply. "Yeah, coach cancelled practice." You give your cat a few scratches before heading off to the kitchen to join your mom.

"Really? That's surprising." You laugh, peeking into the pot your mom was stirring. "Yeah, that's what I said."

"What are you making?" you ask, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Spaghetti." She smiles, adding stuff to the pot. You feel a wave of warmth wash over you as the familiar smell of your mom's cooking fills the kitchen.

You watch as she expertly moves around the kitchen, adding ingredients to the pot. "I have to work late tonight, so I figured I'll start dinner early." She stirs the contents and you can smell the delicious aromas wafting from the pot. She gives you a smile, and you are grateful that she is willing to take the time to make dinner for the both of you.

"Ma, you should be resting. I can cook dinner." She waves her hand at you dismissively. "I want to do this. After all, it's my job to take care of you."

She pours some more ingredients into the pot, and the smell of the food intensifies. "What if I got a job? So you don't have to work late shifts anymore?" You suggest, a frown on your face.

She pauses for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, you need to focus on your studies and football. You worked hard for your starting spot, honey." She smiles sadly at you, before stirring the pot and humming a song.

She stops, "Now, go take a shower. It's almost finished." You nod and walk away, feeling a bit defeated. You know she only wants the best for you, but it's still hard to hear. You take a deep breath and head for the bathroom.

You take a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the disappointment. You remind yourself that you are doing your best and that will have to be enough.

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the shower and head back into the kitchen. After eating dinner with your mom, you begin scrolling through Instagram and TikTok. You soon find yourself laughing at memes and videos, allowing yourself to forget the stresses of the day for a few moments.

Hours pass and you soon realize it's time for bed. You turn off your phone and crawl into bed, just as you're about to drift off to sleep, your phone dings. It was a message from Ethan.

ethan - best fucking concert ever

ethan - im officially a swiftie

ethan - taylor's songs are anthems for my life. everything she does is iconic. she's my queen.

you - i'm guessing it went well with mia?

ethan - well? it went amazing bro

ethan - she wanted to hang out tmr but she has plans w adam sandler

you - oh thats a shame

ethan - omg i jus got the best idea evr

you - which is

ethan - A DOUBLE DATE

you - ethan no.

You place down your phone, and it vibrates from the amount of messages you're receiving. You lay back down, but of course, your phone starts ringing. And it's Ethan, obviously.

You sigh, but you pick up the call anyway. "Listen to me! It's a great idea!" He shouts through the speakers of your phone, You groan and roll your eyes, but you can't help but be amused. You reply, "Okay, I'm listening."

Ethan begins to explain his idea in more detail, "Okay look! If I text Mia, right now saying what if me and you both go to the arcade with them, she'll be like sure! Then that means I get to hang out with Mia and you finally get to meet Vada."

Ethan smiled, knowing he had found the perfect plan. You chew the inside of your cheeks, debating if you should agree to Ethan's plan. You take a deep breath and finally give in, deciding that this could be the start of something good.

He quickly texts Mia, and after a few moments, she replies agreeing. "Looks like we got ourselves a double date." Ethan and Mia started to chat excitedly about the date, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement as well. You hadn't been on a date in a while and it felt like a new adventure. But was this actually a date, or just a way to hang out with friends? You weren't sure.

You woke up to a shout of your name. You quickly scrambled out of bed and rushed to the living room. There was your mom standing in the doorway with a wide grin on her face and Ethan right beside her.

"Ethan's here." You send a tired smile to your mom, "How was work?" She shrugs, "It was alright. Come here and give Ethan a hug." You side-eye Ethan, who opens his arms wide, a goofy smile on his face.

"C'mon Y/N/N! Hug me!" You reluctantly walk over and give Ethan a hug. He squeezes you tightly and laughs. Your mom smiles, watching the two of you before turning to head upstairs. Ethan lets you go and gives you a pat on the back.

You take a few steps back and he grins at you. You smile back, "Why are you here so early?" Ethan shrugs, "Your mom said it was okay. Plus it's 3 o'clock in the afternoon." You nod, and Ethan takes a seat on the couch.

He looks around and then turns back to you, "So, what have you been up to today?" You shrug, "Not much. Sleeping."

"I can tell," he motions his hands above his head, basically telling you your hair was a mess. You laugh and run your hand through your hair, trying to tame it. You look back at Ethan and smile, "What about you? What have you been up to?" He grins, "Talking to Mia."

"Oh, really?" You raise your eyebrows. "And what did she have to say?" He shrugs. "She said that they'll be at the arcade at around six."

You nod, sitting down on the couch as well. "Wanna watch The Walking Dead?" He nods and smiles. "Sure, let's watch it!" You grab the remote and search for the show getting comfortable on the couch. The episode starts with a bang, and you both settle in to watch.

Two hours later, you two are still glued to the screen, eagerly awaiting the next plot twist. Once the episode ends, you turn to your friend and say, "Shit! What time is it?"

Ethan, eyes wide, checks his watch and gasps. "We have to go, now!" He exclaims. You both jump up but you pause, "Wait! I gotta shower, do my hair-"

"Less talking and more doing!" Ethan pushes you to the stairs, and you begin sprinting up them, almost running into your mom. She steps aside to let you pass, a mix of surprise and amusement on her face as she watches you go.

Quickly you take a shower and change into a clean set of clothes. Not before fixing your hair and spraying on cologne, you head downstairs, ready and excited. Ethan is waiting for you, a satisfied smirk on his face, and together you leave.

When you arrive at the arcade you see Mia and Vada. Mia's smiling and waving excitedly at you both while Vada kicks a nearby rock. You both walk over and Mia gives Ethan a big hug.

Vada stands off to the side, her arms crossed but a small smile on her face. You look around and see the arcade bustling with activity, and you know you're in for a night of fun. "Hey, guys!" Ethan says, smiling. You look at Vada, and your heart beats like crazy.

"Hey, Vada." She smiles. "Ready for a night of fun?" she asks, her eyes twinkling. You can only nod as you follow the couple into the arcade. Almost immediately, Ethan and Mia go off and do their own thing leaving you and Vada alone.

Vada points to a game ahead of you. "Let's see who can get the highest score," she says with a mischievous smile. You nod and the two of you start to play. After a few minutes of intense competition, Vada ends up with the highest score.

She laughs and celebrates her victory, and you can't help but smile widely. "If I knew you were such a sore winner I would've tried harder." Vada gives you a playful shove and giggles. "You'll have to try harder next time!" she says. The two of you soon move on to the next game.

In watching you press the start button, Vada admits, "I'm bad at basketball." You pick up a ball, looking at her smiling. "That's ok, I'm pretty bad at it too," you reply. She furrows her eyebrows, "I thought you played basketball?" You shoot the ball, and it doesn't even hit the rim.

"Actually-" She starts, and you let out a loud laugh. She joins in your laughter. "I play football," you say continuing the shoot the remaining balls in front of you.

"But like aren't you supposed to at least have good accuracy? A blind person could shoot better than you." You chuckle, "I'm more of a receiver, not a quarterback." You shoot the last ball which ends up bouncing out of the cage from hitting the rim.

You catch the ball easily, placing it down. She shakes her head and grins. "I stand by my statement. You're terrible." She presses the button, picking up the basketball in front of her. "Watch and learn."

The first one she shoots goes in, "Lucky shot." You mumble, and she smiles in response. The second one also goes in, and the third and fourth too. "You lied to me. You said you sucked." She laughs, and sets up the next shot. "I never said I was suck, I just said I was bad." She takes the shot and it swishes through the net. "What the fuck?"

She turns to you and grins. "You see? I told you I was bad, not suck." You can only stare in amazement as she lines up the next shot and scores again. She laughs and walks away, leaving you in awe. "You lied!" You yell out as you follow her. She laughs again. "I'll let you in on a secret."

She stops and turns around, her face serious. "In order to score all the shots, you have to aim for the back of the rim. And then once you do that, calculate how much power you're putting into your shot. That way you'll be able to get a better idea of the trajectory the ball will take. And you'll have a better chance of making the shot." You squint your eyes at the girl, tilting your head a bit.

She bites her lip in response. Adorable, she thinks. "How do you know all of that? Or like, how'd you even figure that out?" She shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. "I came here before with Quinton." Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really? You two are...close?"

"We're friends." Is all she says. She looks away and takes a deep breath. "But yeah, he's a good friend." She smiles and looks back up at you, her eyes twinkling. "Wanna get something to drink?"

You nod and smile, and the two of you head to grab a drink. "Look, I'm gonna show you how to make the best slushie you'll ever fucking taste in your life." You grab a cup, joining Vada in front of the slushie machine.

Vada begins to explain the steps, and you find yourself getting more and more invested in the process. You join in, and together you prepare the perfect slushie. You take a sip and it's everything Vada promised. "Wow."

"Right!" Vada grins with satisfaction. Your eyes look around the arcade and you notice Ethan and Mia shooting water blasters at the target together. "You know, they're kind of cute together." Vada looks at the two, nodding in agreement. "It was bound to happen eventually. She's been crushing on the guy since sixth grade."

You furrow your eyebrows, your head snapping at the shorter girl next to you. "Really? Ethan too!" Vada laughs, a smile on her face. "That's crazy. It's been obvious to everyone but them." She turns back to the two, watching them laugh and shoot water blasters in sync. "They just need to tell each other how they feel."

"I mean...It's not that simple." You say, taking another sip of your slushie. Vada shrugs. "It's worth a try. I mean, what have they got to lose?" You shake your head. "I don't know. It's a risk they might not want to take."

You're beginning to wonder if you're talking about Ethan or yourself. Vada looks at you with a knowing look. "You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do." You take a deep breath, considering her words. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I'm glad you agreed to come, I would've been third-wheeling the entire night." You laugh, "I'm glad I came too." You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do. Vada's words basically repeat in your head, "I uh, I've actually been wanting to talk to you for a while." You admit.

She looks surprised but pleased. "Really? I had no idea!" You nod and smile, feeling relieved that you finally said it. "Yeah! I just didn't know how to approach you." She smiles, her dimples appearing on her cheeks. "Dude, it's not like I would've bit you if you tried to make a conversation with me."

You both laugh and the tension between you dissipates. She looks at you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, what do you want to talk about?" You shrug, using your straw to stir around your drink. "Favorite color?"

"Easy. All of them." She smiles and takes a sip of her drink. "I guess I can't argue with that. Favourite movie?" She pauses for a moment, thinking. "It's hard to pick just one, but I think it's The Staircase. I watched it a thousand times." You hum, "I've never watched it before."

"Wait, what?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "You have to watch it. It's a classic!" You shrug. "I'll watch it. What's it about?" She grins. "It's about this white guy who murders his second wife, and probably his first wife, and gets away with both."

You look at her, surprised. "That sounds intense. Is it a true story?" She laughs. "No, it's a movie. You'll love it. What's yours?"

You open your mouth to speak but she cuts you off. "Lemme guess. Tom Brady Documentary: True Stories." You start to laugh. "Yeah, that's it. It's a classic." She laughs. "See, I knew it!"

"But actually, it has to be How To Build a Better Boy." You say, watching her face to see her reaction. She looks shocked, "Wait that one sappy Disney movie?"

"It's not sappy." She laughs, "Yeah, right. I'm sure it's full of life lessons and cheesy dialogues." You smirk, "Maybe, but it's still worth watching."

She shakes her head, "I don't believe you. There's no way it can be that good." You shrug, "Trust me. I promise you won't regret it." Vada takes another sip of her drink, only to realize she's finished it. She looks up at you with a questioning gaze.

You smile and offer her some of your drink. "Trust me how I trusted you to make this drink." Vada hesitates, then takes the drink from you. "Okay. I'll watch it tonight, and then first thing in the morning I'll tell you if it was good or bad."

You nod and watch her take a sip. "You'd need my number for that." She smiles, takes out her phone and hands it to you. You add your number, then hand it back. "I'll be waiting for your call then." You wink and she laughs, taking another sip of the drink.

Ethan and Mia make their way toward you two, smiles on their faces. "You guys ready to go?" You both nod, and you all make your way out of the arcade. You all walk out, the cool night air bringing a sense of peace. You and the girl share a glance, and she smiles. You both head to your respective cars and drive off in different directions.

"How was it with Vada?" You reply, "It was great. She's a really cool girl." Ethan smiles and you ask him how it went with Mia. "We had our first kiss." Ethan's face lit up with excitement. "WHEN?"

He shyly looks away and replies, "Just a few minutes ago. You missed it being too oo la la with Vada." You roll your eyes smiling and give him a high five. Ethan grins and says, "It was amazing." He then pulls out of the parking lot, turning on his blinker and making a left towards your place.

Meanwhile, in Mia's car, she and Vada are talking about you. Mia teases Vada about her crush on you. Vada blushes and laughs, still a little embarrassed. "I mean she's cute and I can tell she really likes you."

Vada looked away, still blushing. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, laughing. Mia just smiled and shook her head. As soon as Vada got home she was questioned by her mom.

Vada quickly changed the subject, not wanting her mom to know what had happened. Vada's mother gave her a knowing look but didn't press the issue. Instead, she just said, "Well, I'm glad you had a good time." Vada smiled and nodded, grateful that her mom hadn't pushed the matter any further.

She fell against the couch, hesitating before turning on How To Build a Better Boy, your favourite movie. The movie started and Vada felt a sense of relief as her mom left the room. She curled up in her blanket and let herself get lost in the movie.

"Perfect boy but his name is Albert! And how'd he get a car...plus why'd he just throw his keys to a random guy?" Vada mumbles to herself, confused at the logic of the movie.

She giggled at the absurdity of it all, hoping the movie would eventually make sense. Despite the silliness, she couldn't help but be drawn in by the characters and their stories. Vada watched with anticipation as the movie unfolded, eager to find out what would happen next.

Until Amelia comes down, standing in front of the TV. Vada groans at her little sister, "Dude. I'm trying to watch something." Amelia turns to her with a small frown, "I wanna watch too." Vada reluctantly scoots over to make room for her, rolling her eyes in an attempt to hide her growing smile. They cuddle up on the couch, ready for whatever the movie had in store.

The sisters watched the movie, laughing and pointing out silly things until it was time for bed. Vada tucked Amelia in, giving her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before heading off to dreamland herself.

When you woke up in the morning the first thing you did was grab your phone, checking for any recent messages. You felt a wave of disappointment as you saw that no one had messaged you. You decided to go downstairs to make breakfast.

Your mom had already left for work, so it was just you and your cat, Goose. You started making a simple omelet. It was one of your go-to recipes. But gosh, was it delicious.

As you ate the omelet, you had a moment of peace, just you and your cat, and the warm and comforting taste of the omelet. Goose jumps onto the table, meowing in your face. "Goose down."

Goose meows in protest, but eventually jumps off the table. You take a deep breath, savouring the last bite of the omelet. You look down at Goose and smile, "I'll make sure to give you a treat later." Goose purrs in response, contentedly rubbing against your leg. You get up to clean the kitchen, and your phone goes off in the middle of the dishes.

xxx-xxx-xxxx - ok. i'd admit it's a very good movie

You smile, she had finally texted you.

you - see it's not sappy, but a work of art

vada - i wouldnt take it that far

you - lol, i still have to watch the stairless

Three dots appear on the screen, then disappear. You frown, continuing to wash the dishes. You pause and turn off the water, drying your hands. You pick up your phone again, Vada had texted back.

vada - we could watch it at my place

you - when?

vada - today if u want

you - ok sure

you - send me ur address

You ring the doorbell, shifting your weight from one leg to the other anxiously. "Mom! Do not open the-" The muffled voice stops once the door is swung open. You stand there, frozen, unable to move. The blonde woman smiles at you, "Hi! You must be Vada's friend. Mia is it?" You shake your head, hearing a groan come from inside the house. "Mom, this is Y/N."

You smile awkwardly, feeling embarrassed. Mom chuckled and stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. You nervously step inside, smiling at the woman who let you in.

Vada sends you a wave which you return, placing your hands in your pocket. You take a deep breath as you take in your surroundings. The home was warm and inviting, with decorations all around the place.

You follow Vada, who leads you to the living room. She offers you a seat and you sit down, feeling somewhat more at ease. "Sorry about that." You wave it off, "It's fine. She seems sweet."

"If sweet means extremely noisy and out of touch with this generation, then yes. She's very sweet." Vada sighs and sits down on the couch next to you. You can't help but laugh at her comment. She shakes her head and smiles. "She means well, I suppose." She says with a shrug.

You lean further back into the red couch, as Vada picks up the remote turning on The Stairless. Vada and you sit back and watch the movie, exchanging comments and laughs. Time passes quickly, and soon enough you both find yourselves lost in the story. "Off the bat, I knew he killed his first wife." You laugh, slightly turning your head to Vada. "I'm telling you, he did it!" Vada exclaimed.

You both chuckle and then continued watching the movie. As the movie plays, the closer you two get. Now leaning into each other, you can feel the warmth of Vada's body as your hands occasionally brush against each other.

Your conversations become more meaningful, and the laughs become genuine. The movie fades away, and all that's left is the two of you, living in the moment.

As the credits rolled, you both looked at each other in amazement. "That was one hell of a movie," you say. "I told you. That movie is the shit." You sit up a bit, your shoulder brushing against Vadas. "Okay, rate How to Build a Better Boy and then I'll rate this."

Vada takes a moment to think, then finally responds. "It was an 8/10 for me," she says. "I really enjoyed it. How about mine?" You pause to consider the movie before finally saying, "Hmm, I'd give it a 9/10. Definitely worth watching again."

Vada grins. "I knew you'd like it." She leans back against the couch and stretches her arms out. "I'm glad we got to watch it together." You give her a smile and nod in agreement.

You give her a smile and nod in agreement. You both take a few minutes to relax in the comfortable silence. Then, you break it.

"I'm really craving one of your slushies." Vada laughs. "Wanna get one?" You nod and she jumps up, pulling you up from the couch. "Let's get Albert!" Furrowing your eyebrows, you both head out the door. "Albert?"

Vada laughs again. "I was thinking about it and you literally are the fully human version of him, except you don't really look alike." You roll your eyes, but you can't help but laugh. "Albert's a douche, I'm not a douche."

Vada snorts as you unlock your chair door, getting inside together. "Albert is not a douche. He's a sweet young boy who cares about his girlfriend, and he's really good at football."

You can't help but smile, shaking your head. "Yeah, okay, maybe he's not a douche." Vada grins as you start the engine. "Exactly. So therefore you're Albert." You chuckle and put the car in gear. "Are you trying to say that I'm perfect and really good at football?"

She laughs."No, I'm saying you're not a douche. Now let's go! The slurpies are calling my name." You roll your eyes and drive away, the two of you laughing as you go.

Since that day you've been texting Vada non-stop. She doesn't seem to mind it either. You feel like you can talk to her about anything. And to add to that, you've also been talking during school. Vada had even come over to meet your cat, when your mom was at work. You two have become really close over the past few weeks. Every day you look forward to talking to her and spending time with her. You can't help but feel like you are falling for her.

"Are you coming to my game tonight?" Vada smiled at you and nodded. You felt your heart flutter. You knew for sure, you were starting to fall in love. "Yeah, of course. Even though I barely understand football." You laugh at her response, leaning into the lockers. She smiles back, her eyes twinkling. "I'll explain the rules to you," you say, your voice soft as it can be. Vada can feel her heart skip a beat, and you smile at her.

She looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. "But if you don't carry four people on your shoulders and score like Albert, then I'm leaving mid-game." She jokes causing you to smile. You tried to think of a witty reply, but all you could do was laugh. "I'll try my best."

She smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. "That's all I ask." She patted your shoulder and walked away. You watched her leave, feeling content with your exchange. Ethan, who you didn't notice was behind you places a hand on your shoulder.

You jump in surprise. "Jesus!" He laughs. "You should relax, man. I didn't mean to scare you." He removed his hand and stepped back. You take a deep breath and let it out, relieved.

"What were you guys talking about?" You shrug, "Nothing important. She's coming to our game tonight." Ethan's eyes widen in shock, "Are you serious?" "Yeah, why?" You reply, slightly confused. He shakes his head, "Nothing, just... Mia asked herself and Vada said no."

"Hm..." You hum, unsure of what to take from the situation. "I don't know maybe she changed her mind last second." A goofy smile makes its way onto Ethan's face, "Or maybeeeeee... she likes you."

You look away, blushing. "No way," you say, shaking your head. "She's definitely not interested in me that way." Ethan gives you a knowing look. "You've been talking for weeks. I've seen the way she looks at you," he says. "You should ask her out dude." You hesitate, not sure if you should take his advice.

The bell rings, and you look at Ethan with a smirk. "Saved by the bell." Ethan rolls his eyes and laughs. "Just ask her," he says, and you cover your ears humming as you walk through the hallway.

"Check, check! Elvis, Elvis!" Ethan yells. You look at the cornerback in front of you, and give Ethan a thumbs up. You take a deep breath and get into your stance. You know that if you can get past the cornerback, and potentially win your team some yards. You focus on the cornerback and wait for the snap.

The snap comes and you explode off the line. You easily beat the cornerback and break into the open field. You know you have a chance to make a big play and you sprint as fast as you can. Ethan throws the ball to you, and you catch it successfully.

Only making it to the 45-yard line before you're tackled. The crowd erupts in cheers as you get up from the tackle, smiling. You know you've made a huge play and energized your team. As you jog back to the huddle, you can feel the momentum shifting in your favour.

The team regroups and prepares for the next play. Everyone is pumped up and ready to take it to the end zone. Ethan calls the next play and the team breaks the huddle, ready for action. Ethan snaps the ball, handing it off to the running back who earns just about 8 yards from the play. It's third down, and you need 10 more yards to get to first.

Ethan calls out the next play and the team runs it perfectly. The running back manages to break free and run for 20 yards, giving the team a first down. The team cheers in excitement as they get a fresh set of downs and move closer to the end zone. "Y/N," you perk up at the sound of your name, "Be ready." You nod as Ethan pats your helmet.

You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for the next play. You watch as Ethan signals the play and the team begins running it. You run up to the line of scrimmage, ready to make your move.

You see a gap in the defence and make your move, sprinting forward. You catch the football with both hands and take off, running for the endzone. You feel the wind in your face as you cross the goal line and score the touchdown.

The crowd erupts in cheers as you spike the ball in celebration. You jog back to the sidelines, feeling a sense of accomplishment and pride. You know you just made a game-winning play.

Meanwhile, Vada is in the stands beside Mia yelling, "GOAALLLLLLLLL!" Mia and Vada jump up and down excitedly, hugging each other in joy. The crowd continues to cheer as you take off your helmet and raise your arm in triumph. You feel a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that your hard work has paid off.

You wave to your mom who waves back, a huge smile on her face. "That's what I'm talking about!" Your coach saying patting your back. You take off your helmet, rubbing the sweat off your forehead with your towel. "Just one more touchdown and we've made it to the playoffs, baby."

You take a moment to take in the sound of the cheering crowd and the feel of the cool night air. The team gathers together in a huddle, the defensive team heading onto the field.

As the players take their positions on the field, the energy in the stadium is palpable. The coaches call out the plays and the team readies for the snap. The opposite team's quarterback takes the ball and the game resumes.

Thankfully your defensive side was able to stop the other team, and you're back on the field. Your team huddles up and the coach gives the next play. You take your position and get ready for the snap. As the ball is snapped, you make your move and the play is underway.

You make a break for the end zone, dodging and weaving past the other team's defence. Catching the ball with ease, you can feel the cheers of the crowd getting louder as you get closer. You feel someone hop on your back, but you continue running.

You keep going until you cross the goal line and score the winning touchdown. The crowd erupts as you raise your arms in victory. You look back to see your opponent still on your back, frustrated and disappointed.

The referee quickly signals for a touchdown and you can see the joy on your teammates' faces. You look back at your opponent and offer a friendly handshake to congratulate them on a good game. The team celebrates your victory as the crowd continues to roar.

You run to the sidelines, ecstatic about the win. The coaches congratulate you on your performance and the team gathers for a group hug. You look into the stands and see Vada staring back at you, her mouth open in shock. You take off your helmet, dropping it on the ground before holding up a heart.

Vada smiles and laughs, she mimes a heart back to you, and you smile widely. Ethan brings you into a tight hug, patting your back, "HELL YEAH!" You finally feel the euphoria of a victory. You had worked so hard and it had all paid off.

You look back at the field one last time, taking in the feeling of success before you turn to join your team in their celebration. You have made it, and nothing can take this moment away from you.

Moments pass and the entire team makes its way into the locker room. Everyone is in high spirits, laughing, hugging and even dancing to the sound of the music playing in the background. You can't help but smile, happy about the win.

As the team disperses, the coach takes you aside. He looks you in the eye and says "I'm proud of you. Great job today." You feel a thank him before leaving the locker room, walking outside to the front of the school building.

Ethan, Mia, and Vada are already there waiting. Once Vada sees you she runs to you, basically jumping into your arms. You hug her tightly, feeling a warmth inside. "You did it!" She shouts, her eyes bright with excitement.

"You like actually carried that guy onto your back? I told you you're Albert!" You laugh and hug her again. "Thanks, Vada." You are interrupted by a throat being cleared, and it's your mom.

"Hey, Ma." Your mom smiles at you, holding out her arms and you step into them, contentment washing over you. She pulls away slightly, with a proud smile and says, "You should be proud of yourself, Y/N. You did something remarkable today."

You smile, feeling a warmth in my chest. "I'm glad you think so," She hugs you again and says, "I always have, sweetheart. Now go hang out with your friends." You smile wider, feeling a warmth in your chest and your eyes start to mist.

You hug her tightly and thank her, before turning to go. You pause for a moment and look back, feeling so thankful for the unconditional love you have been given.

"TIME TO PARTYYYYY!" Ethan shouts from beside Mia, who joins him. You shake your head at the two, turning to Vada who raises her head, joining in as well. You can't help but laugh at their enthusiasm and join in, feeling the energy of the night.

The four of you make your way towards Max's house. He's known for throwing the best parties at your school, but you've never gone to any of them. You've never really had a reason to, but now you kind of do.

You knock on the door and Max welcomes you all in. The house is filled with people, and loud music and the air is thick with laughter and energy. You can feel a sense of anticipation and excitement as you all take in the scene.

You look around and take it all in, feeling a bit overwhelmed but excited. You make your way through the crowd, looking for a place to sit down and relax. You finally find a spot and settle in, ready to enjoy the party. "No way you're sitting down at a party," Vada says from beside you. You swallow your drink before sending a small smile at her.

She grins and grabs your hand, leading you to the dining room. "We're gonna play beer pong. I hope you have better accuracy."

"Any challengers?" A dark-haired boy says from the other side of the table, his friend close by. "Yeah." You speak up, wrapping an arm around Vada's shoulders. "Me and her," Vada smiles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready to go?" you ask, and she nods.

The boy nods, "Okay. But just know beer pong is my calling." You and Vada exchange a knowing look, and you set up the table. The game begins and you soon find yourself in a heated battle with the dark-haired boy.

It's drink after drink, throw after throw, and soon the game is over. The boy is declared the winner with a triumphant grin on his face. Vada and you exchange an impressed look and congratulate him on his victory.

"I can't believe he won that." You mutter, a bit tipsy. Vada shakes her head, "I can. You still suck at aiming balls into stuff." You laugh and throw your hands up in defeat. "You're right, I do. But maybe I'll get better one day." You continue following Vada around the party until she suggests something.

"Wanna get high?" You look around the party and then back at Vada, "Let's do it." She smiles and grabs your hand, leading you away from the party. You quickly found a secluded corner outside, and she produced a joint from her pocket. Taking a lighter from her other pocket, "You always have a lighter and a joint in your pocket?"

She laughed, "No but... I knew I'd be going to this party. I wanted to prepare myself." You hum with a nod, Vada's eyes leave the joint before meeting yours. "Have you done this before?" You shake your head, "No. I haven't.."

She smiles, takes the joint and takes a deep breath. "It's ok, I'll show you how."Vada inhaled, and slowly exhaled. She passed the joint back to you and said, "Just take a tiny puff. Don't hold it in, just let it out." You took the joint and followed her advice. You felt a tingle in your chest as the smoke lingered in the air. You coughed a bit, but it was a good feeling. You exhaled and smiled. "See? Not so bad."

You handed the joint back to Vada, feeling a bit more at ease. You sit down on the grass, and Vada joins you laughing. "Just wait till it hits." You close your eyes and lean your head back, savouring the moment.

You feel the warm sun on your skin and the cool grass beneath you. You can feel the effects of the marijuana start to take hold, and a peaceful calm overtakes you. "I wonder what kind of high you'll be."

"There kinds?" You smile and nod, feeling content. "There's the body high, the mental high, and the spiritual high. Each one has its own unique experience." You take a deep breath and sigh, feeling the effects of the marijuana wash over you.

You close your eyes and relax, feeling the tension in your body slowly dissipate. You smile, feeling a sense of peace and clarity that you hadn't felt in a long time. You open your eyes and take another deep breath, feeling a deep sense of connection to the world around you.

"I wonder who wrote the script for How to Build a Better Boy," Vada's eyes widen. She can't believe that's what you're talking about mid-smoke. You laugh and shrug. "It's just something I thought of. I was just trying to relax." She smiles, understanding. "Well, it seems like it worked. You look much calmer now."

You take a deep breath and smile. "Yeah, I guess it did. I'm glad I was able to take my mind off things for a bit." Vada nods in agreement, then takes a deep drag from the joint. You both take a moment to enjoy the silence and the feeling of companionship.

You turn to the shorter girl, smiling. "I wanna kiss you. Badly, I've been wanting to kiss you, but now I just really really really-" You're cut off by a pair of lips onto yours. You close your eyes and kiss her back, savouring the moment. When you pull away, you can't help but smile.

You look into her eyes and feel a warmth inside you that you never thought was possible. "I've been wanting to kiss you too." You smile wider, bringing her back into an intense kiss.

Bringing the girl into your lap, gripping her waist tightly. You can feel her heart pounding against your own. You can feel her body relax into your embrace as you kiss her more passionately. You don't know if this is just Vada or the cannabis you've inhaled, but this is definitely one of the best kisses you've had.

She pulls away and smiles at you, her eyes twinkling. You can feel the electricity between you, like something that will never be broken. You know this moment will stay with you forever.

She leans in and whispers in your ear, "I love you." You can feel your heart swell at the words. You hold her close and whisper back, "I love you too." Everything around you fades away and all that is left is the two of you in this moment. You kiss her tenderly as your hearts beat in unison.

"You've gotta be quiet!" Vada whisper yells at you, trying her best to support your weight. You nod and press your lips together, trying your best to muffle the sound of your breathing.

You feel Vada's arms tremble as she carries you through the darkness. You can sense her fear. "Ma is probably..." You start snoring and begin laughing at your own joke.

Hopefully, your mother is sleeping because of the way you're acting right now, she'd definitely tell if you're not sober. Vada stops walking and scolds you.

She tells you to keep quiet and you quickly apologize. You try to remain quiet for the remainder of the journey, but you can't help but feel a bit of excitement as you approach your bedroom.

On the second to last step, there's a creaking noise. You both tense up at the sound, waiting there a few moments before resuming your movements.

"Are we gonna make out, V?" Vada blushes, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Shh, we're almost to your room." You make it to the room, closing the door behind you. Vada then pushes you onto the bed, plopping down beside you with a heavy sigh.

You begin giggling, turning to the girl beside you. She smiles, leaning in closer. You close your eyes, feeling her warm breath on your face. You both press your lips together, eagerly exploring each other.

Your heart races as you feel her hands on your back. You break away, looking into her eyes. You both share a knowing smile, "Are you sober enough to consent?" You nod, "Yes. Now hurry... sober thoughts and drunk thoughts."

Vada laughs at your mess-up, fuck it. She was high as hell as well. She was just handling it way better than you.

You both kissed again, feeling the warmth as your bodies pressed against each other. You felt the alcohol between you, but you both knew that you were sober enough to make a conscious decision. Your hearts were pounding as you embraced each other, both of you eager for more.

You pull away, climbing onto of Vada. Vada smiles up at you as you look deep into her eyes. You lean in and kiss them passionately, your hands exploring her body. You two stay like this for what feels like an eternity, until finally you pull away, and you begin undressing.

You throw your hoodie away, and try to rip apart your white tank top but fail. Vada notices your frustration and giggles, then helps you take off your tank top, revealing your toned abs. She smiles, before reaching up and kissing you again.

She then fumbles with the buttons of your pants, and pulls them down, before pushing you onto the bed. She climbs on top of you, and begins to passionately kiss your neck and chest. You can feel her hands trailing up and down your body as she continues to kiss you.

She moves her hands to your back and pulls you closer. You can feel her breath on your skin as she whispers into your ear. She then moves her lips to yours and you become lost in the moment.

You pull away slightly, "Vada take off your damn clothes." You say fiddling with her shirt. She complies taking off her bra as well. Your mouth moves to her chest, kissing, licking and suckling as your hands wander to her shorts. You slip them off her hips, leaving her in just her panties.

She moans in pleasure as you continue your ministrations.

You move your hands further down, gently stroking her inner thighs. You pause, taking in her beauty before slowly slipping off her panties.

She smiles at you, her desire and anticipation palpable in the air. "My heart is racing so much," she admits, smiling. "Mine too," you reply, leaning in to kiss her.

Her lips are soft and inviting, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating around you. You both lose yourself in the moment, the anticipation of what's to come envelops you both.

You flip her over, laying her on her back. You begin to explore her body with your hands. Her skin is soft and smooth beneath your fingertips. She moans softly, her eyes closed in pleasure. "Y/N..."

You move your hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of her. She gasps softly as you reach her most sensitive areas. You press your lips against her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

She grabs hold of your hair, her moans getting louder as you keep going. You feel her body quiver beneath you as you continue to pleasure her, her breathing becoming rapid and her body shaking with pleasure.

You can feel her nearing her climax and you increase the intensity of your motions, pushing her over the edge. Her body convulses with pleasure as she reaches her orgasm. "Ohmygod."

You kiss her body as she recovers from her orgasm, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looks up at you with a satisfied smile, her eyes still filled with pleasure. You return her smile, happy to have been able to bring her pleasure.

You feel yourself hard against your underwear, and you know that you're ready for your own pleasure. You pull her closer to you and whisper in her ear, letting her know that you're ready. She responds with a mischievous grin, her hand moving to pleasure you.

You moan as her hand slides up and down, the pleasure building inside you. She moves her lips to yours, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hand continues to work its magic.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and you grab her hand to slow her down. She smiles in understanding and pulls away, the pleasure ebbing away. You look into each other's eyes, and you both know that this is only the beginning. "I'm gonna grab a condom." You mumble, rushing off the bed and into your drawer.

She nods in agreement, and you can sense the anticipation in the air. You come back to the bed, and she eagerly takes the condom from you. Opening the gold wrapper, you take out the condom and unroll it onto yourself, before moving to lie on top of her.

She wraps her arms around you as you take a deep breath as you slowly slide inside her, and you both gasp in pleasure.

You both moan in pleasure as you start to move, and she wraps her legs around you. You start to build up momentum, faster and faster, as you move together. The friction of the condom creates a warm, smooth sensation that sends pleasure through both of you with each thrust.

With each movement, you feel your connection with her deepen and you can feel the sensations in both your bodies become more intense.

"Vada," you sigh out, resting your head in the nape of her shoulder. She looks up at you and smiles, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. You kiss her softly and she wraps her arms around you tightly.

You can feel the warmth radiating from her body and you feel the love you have for her in that moment. You want to stay like this forever and the thought of having to part from her is too much to bear. You tightly embrace her and whisper that you love her. You feel her body trembling as she returns the embrace.

"I'm about to cum." She moans into your ear as she cums. You feel her body quivering and it sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. You hold her tight as you release as well. You collapse onto the bed, panting heavily. You lay there in each other's arms for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You kiss each other tenderly and drift off to sleep.

"Was I your first time?" She replies with a soft whisper, "No, Mia was." Your head snaps to her and she laughs, sighing out shortly after.

You take a moment to process what she said. "Really?" She nods, "It happened... multiple times... the fifth week of school." You take a deep breath and look away for a moment, trying to contain your confusion.

"Was I yours?" You shake your head smiling, "No, Ethan was." She lets out a loud laugh at your joke, laying her head on your chest. You take a deep breath and hold her close.

You feel a wave of emotions wash over you, grateful for the moment of comfort. You are filled with a sense of peace, knowing that you have someone to talk to and share your feelings with.

"I need to shower." You say. Vada nods rolling over. "You can join me, but you gotta be quiet." You smile, "Oh, you're telling me to be quiet now?"

You chuckle and lead her into the bathroom. You both take your time showering, enjoying the warmth of the water and each other's company. After, you dry off and return to your bedroom, both content and peaceful.

You wake up to a shout of your name. Looking to your left you notice Vada is still sound asleep. "Fuck," you rush up out of bed putting on your clothes before nearly darting downstairs to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast.

Your mother is standing over the stove. Three plates of eggs and bacon already waiting for you on the table. She gives you a stern look before turning back to the stove. "There are three..." You mutter to her confused.

She points to the plates. "One for you, one for your girlfriend, and one for me. Now wake her up and come and eat."

You sheepishly smile turning on your heels to go wake up Vada.

#reader insert #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #vada x reader #vada cavell #vada x you #vada x y/n #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x you #vada cavell x y/n #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader

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theminecraftbee · 8 months

Text

There are several things Martyn realizes, all at once, when he opens his eyes:

He is dreaming.

It's one of those in-between dreams, the ones that aren't quite dreams.

He is sitting at a green felted table. It is sitting on a stage. The lighting is dim, and no one is watching, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the stagehands dressed in black, waiting.

He is not the only one sitting at the table. There is a Watcher, draped in purple. There is a Listener, draped in yellow. There is someone he recognizes in a red sweater. There is someone he thinks he should recognize, but can't quite, shuffling a deck of cards.

"Right. What's all this, then," he mutters.

We are playing blackjack, the Listener says.

We are deciding the rules, the Watcher says.

"It's not like we have anything better to do. Honestly, I'm glad you're here. Do you know how boring these guys are?" Grian says, and Martyn decides to quietly file Grian away as a dream-Grian, as opposed to real-life-Grian, so he doesn't go insane and/or stab him when he wakes up. He waits for the almost-familiar dealer to say something. He does not. After another few moments of awkward nonsense dream-silence, Martyn sighs and leans forward on the table.

"Sure, this might as well be happening," Martyn says. "Deal me in. How's the betting work, again?"

"You put your bet on the table. If you beat the dealer, you get to add it to the game," Grian explains. "If you don't beat the dealer, it takes it."

"Yeah, but like, that's abstract, isn't it? What does that mean, exactly, me losing what I bet if I don't beat the dealer," Martyn says.

Grian shrugs. "Don't ask me. To be honest, I'm hardly the storyteller you are."

"Me? Why are you acting like I have any control over these things when you're--"

Are you ready to play?

Martyn shuts up, looks at the Listener, and sighs. "Yeah, sure, I'm ready to play. Why not."

The dealer looks to its left. Grian sighs. "Why are you making me bet first. Again. We should rotate where we're sitting--fine, fine, I know it's an advantage because I'm the worst at this. Uh. Hm. No trading or giving away lives again. Not even as time or something. It makes the dynamics all weird, and I think we could use a nice straightforward death game next time."

(Martyn wants to roll his eyes. Nice and straightforward. Sure.)

The Watcher goes next. I would like there to be deep and wonderful bonds between the players. I would like those bonds to seem unbreakable.

"Coming from you, that's ominous," Martyn says.

Can I not just miss the alliances of the early days? the Watcher says.

"Never left the desert," Grian says, rolls his eyes, and looks at Martyn in commiseration. Martyn just stares back. So sue him, he's a bit more worried about this whole concept than an eye roll and a pithy phrase. Things Watchers want are rarely good.

When the bonds are enforced, they're less interesting, complains the Listener.

Martyn looks over sharply. Hey, wait, he thought--

I didn't say they had to be enforced by rule. I said they had to be deep. Encouraged, as opposed to discouraged.

Just saying. You'll never recapture Third Life.

Martyn swallows. His throat is dry. Weren't the Listeners supposed to be the good guys, here?

Besides, what I want is for each death to be meaningful again. They've felt too meaningless, lately, the Listener continues.

Martyn thinks the dealer raises an eyebrow, but it strikes him he's not exactly sure. Grian snorts. "Meaningful deaths. That's rich for you to say. I mean, I guess they're meaningful sometimes? I don't know, Martyn's the one who understands dramatic sacrifices, I just like killing things."

"Why do you keep on looking at me when you say those things," Martyn says.

"Look, you wouldn't be here if you weren't helping write," Grian says.

"What?" Martyn says.

We're here to play our cards for the story, the Watcher says. Aren't you also one of the authors?

"Me? What? No, I'm--what are you talking about," Martyn says.

Oh, well. I also hope your meaningful deaths make it in, the Watcher says the Listener.

Thanks, even if I disagree on the bonds, the Listener says.

"They hardly ever talk about real, concrete rules they want," complains Grian. "It's easier to understand the consequence if they bring up actual rules. Like boogeyman or no boogeyman."

"We're all just betting on cards!" Martyn says, throwing his hands up. "You're giving me a headache!"

It's your bet.

"Fine!" Martyn says. "Fine! You know what? Screw all of you. I hope this is the last one. I hope we never have to go back to that stupid death game. I hope it's miserable to watch or to listen to or to play and everyone just gives up. How's that for a bet?"

You're no fun.

Is that what you really want?

"Suit yourself," Grian says. "Honestly, if I still had that to bet, I guess I probably would."

"What do you mean, if you still had that to bet?"

"Well, I mean, that's not how blackjack works, is it? I don't just get back my in when I play it."

The dealer nods, and then silently, with a long bony hand, deals the cards.

Grian is dealt the four of diamonds. The Watcher is dealt the nine of spades. The Listener is dealt the five of clubs. Martyn is dealt a jack of spades. The dealer deals itself a seven of hearts. The dealer deals Grian a six of clubs--

"Hey, isn't that supposed to be face-down?" Martyn asks.

"Not here," Grian explains. "They're all face up so we can't touch the cards. So we don't have to. So we can't cheat."

"Who said anything about cheating?" Martyn says.

"Please," Grian says.

The dealer makes a hand motion. Martyn, grumpily, falls silent. He supposes they're playing by casino rules, then. He hasn't been in a casino since--he wouldn't know. Hard to remember anything that isn't this, isn't it? Isn't killing and dying and things out of his control and things very much in his control and, apparently, bizarre dream sequences designed to make him want to strangle Grian.

Anyway. Grian is dealt a six of clubs, giving him ten. The Watcher is given an eight of spades, giving it seventeen. The Listener is dealt a king of hearts, giving it fifteen. Martyn is given a six of clubs, giving him sixteen. The dealer deals its own second card face-down. Martyn stops to try to speak, and then shuts his mouth. Right. Dealer's advantage.

He stares at the numbers.

Grian sighs. "Well, I've got to double down, don't I? Fine. I want the whole 'red lives can kill' thing to be enforced somehow. I don't care how. There's my double down."

The dealer nods.

"Why would you want that," Martyn says blankly.

If we all win, that will be interesting with the bonds, the Watcher says mildly.

Grian shrugs. "I mean, we've enforced red names not befriending green names, but not the murder thing before. Figure we should switch up the game, right?"

"Why?" Martyn says again.

Well, it wouldn't do for it to be boring.

"No, not that. Just... isn't it easier to handle when the rules are laid out properly?"

Martyn throws his hands up, but stops arguing. The dealer gives Grian a face-down card. The dealer moves to the next party at the table.

The Watcher looks over at the dealer and makes a cutting-off motion. I stand.

The dealer moves on. Hit me, the Listener says, and is dealt the queen of diamonds. The Listener gestures to Martyn. It seems I bust. Pity. I suppose there will be no guarantee of meaning, then. Not what I'd prefer.

The dealer looks at Martyn. Martyn looks at the other hands. Martyn pauses.

"Wait, this is like, casino blackjack, yeah? I'm only playing against you, not the whole table?"

"Why would you be playing against us?" Grian says. "Writing's a collaborative process."

Martyn looks entreatingly at the Listener, but the Listener is a little too caught up in the bad hand it has been dealt. Martyn looks entreatingly at the Watcher, but the Watcher just looks somehow confused.

"I was under the impression that, I don't know, you all were adversarial."

Why? All we want is the same thing as you: the story to be told a certain way.

Martyn's not sure if he's furious or just numb.

"Fine. Got a sixteen, don't I? Hit me."

Two of spades.

He's furious. He wants to win against the dealer. He wants to win against everyone. He wants his idea to make it through. He has an eighteen, though. There are only two numbers in the deck that will not bust him, and he's no fool. Hitting on sixteen is a risk enough; if he wants his stupid bet of everything finally ending to make it through, he's got to hold here.

"I hold," he says through gritted teeth.

The dealer silently deals itself another card. A three of hearts. Distantly, Martyn's ears rush. He could have taken that. He could have taken the hit. He could have won. He could have had blackjack, and he doesn't know what the extra payout for blackjack even means in a game like this one, but he could have had it, and he held back, he didn't take the risk, he didn't--

The dealer flips up its cards. Seven, eight, three. Eighteen.

Martyn's heart pounds. A stand-off.

Grian flips up his own card and groans. It's a five of diamonds. "There goes that bet," he mutters.

The dealer makes a sweeping motion around the table. The Watcher smiles, a terrible, terrible thing. Martyn, all at once, realizes that he can't ask again. He can't say 'this is guaranteed to be the last one' again. He backs out of his chair. To the sides, he sees the stagehands change the lighting. A spotlight, on him and the dealer--

"That isn't fair," he says. "It's a tie. I should get my bet back, right? It's a tie!"

THAT IS WHERE WE DIFFER FROM THE HOUSES IN VEGAS, the dealer says, and Martyn's heart stops.

(The voice is familiar. Familiar, but he cannot place it.)

YOU SEE, IN THIS GAME, THERE IS ALWAYS ONE THING THAT HAS AN ADVANTAGE. ONE THING THE STORY IS ALWAYS PLAYING AGAINST. ONE THING, THAT INEVITABLY, AFTER LONG ENOUGH PLAYING, WILL WIN.

There, the dealer looks Martyn in the eyes, and Martyn, all at once, knows exactly what the dealer must be.

AND THAT IS ME.

Martyn stares Death in the eyes.

Then, in a cold sweat, Martyn wakes up.

He does not sleep again for a long time.

#trafficblr #martyn inthelittlewood #grian #the watchers #the listeners #a bee fic #this is me getting ALL OF MY MOST PRETENTIOUS URGES OUT before i go write more giftfic #literally all my most favoritest pretentious tropes. death personified. weird audience/writer avatar watchers and listeners. cards.#the series abstracted as a stage show. martyn being tired and confused.#really really ominous portents of the next game that hasn't actually happened yet #this is what self-indulgence looks like. if you're me.#there could not be. a more me fic.#anyway. ANYWAY. martyn doesn't understand why he's here. but why WOULDN'T he be here?#out of everyone in the series he's one of the ones who shapes the narrative the most after all

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darqx · 8 months

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Hi I understand if you don't reply, but I was wondering if you have any advice to beginners who want to start making their ocs a reality? (Like in the sense of having Charecters that have been in your thoughts for a while, but it's hard to encapsulate them into physical form?) As I have some that id like to make either into a game or comic but I'm a little stuck..

Also I'm curious if there will be any other content with the best boy himself rire?? : 0

Hullo! Ah, (physically) designing characters, how fun ❤️ - there is part of a reason why I only have a handful of them lol XD; ANYWAY here are three things that help me, so hopefully they can help you as well :)

(I'll use Demon!Rire as an example as unless you are an old guard of mine, he will probably be the most recognisable of my characs.)

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

❓What do you know about them?

First of all since you already have your character in mind, congratulations you are most of the way there already! It's helpful to know the general vibe of them. And I don't mean the super detailed things that may arise from like..."Get to know your OC" quizzes - we are more looking for the core feeling of a character here. If you dumped this character into different AUs what things are going to stay the same/similar? Some things you should consider are:

What is their personality like? Why do they do the things they do?

Do I already have any physical traits for them in mind? Hair/eye/skin colour? Body type? Age? Name??

📝 Write a simple paragraph or some dot points about your character with these things in mind.

---EXAMPLE---

Sophisticated and charming, Rire outputs an aura of power and elegance. His pleasing physical appearance and gentlemanly demeanour usually enchants or commands people. Realistically, he is extremely manipulative and sadistic, and finds entertainment in the reactions of others.

---/EXAMPLE---

🤔 Make informed choices

Ok cool, you know something about your charac! Now build upon what you know to make them real - it is important here to try and match your design choices with the characterisation and "why"s of the character, and less with what you personally think will be cool/cute/whatever. What I mean by this is just pretend they are a person you are describing to a forensic sketch artist - you are giving "facts" as to what you think they look like not making stuff up (eg you would NOT be like "oh yeh she was totally a punk rocker however i'm going to say she wore a long flowing gown cos I think she'd look prettier in it?"*)

*Note that designing a character with opposites in mind can work out if you can at least answer the cursory "why" of it being a part of the character design. For eg maybe the punk rocker is secretly the alter ego of a socialite - flowing gowns and high fashion by day, grunge by night. Like Batman.

📝 Feel free to use dress up doll games and image searches for particular types of clothes/hairstyles/etc if you need inspiration. Thumbnail a bunch of different designs and see what works.

---EXAMPLE---

In my prev example paragraph I highlighted a few things in red. Here I'll break down how they can help craft a physical appearance:

Sophisticated and charming / elegance - to me, these combined make me think of ballrooms and black tie functions and nice suits. A well tailored outfit and someone who knows how to wear them.

Gentlemanly demeanour (well to some degree lol) - since I already know he's hundreds of years old (973 to be exact) I decided that an aristocratic Victorian-esque aesthetic would suit him. Somewhere in between a modern look and something with a bit more fantasy steampunk flair. He smiles quite genially until he's doing it with all his teeth.

Aura of power - he's got to be a bit of an imposing character so he's quite tall (or at least taller than all of my other characs) and carries himself confidently. Hooray for the ability to loom. Dark colours for this character, to cut an impressive figure.

Pleasing physical appearance - kinda stereotypical type of good looks that aesthetically most people would be like "yeh he's pretty". Athletic build - muscular but not bulky, broad shoulders, tapered waist etc etc.

Extremely manipulative - first of all, he looks rather human, for a demon - his entire species is designed very particularly like that. Then there's the sunglasses. The "why" [does he wear them] is they function to hide his eyes (one of the main parts of him that give away his demon-ness), but also as a bit of a red flag to the audience that something isn't quite right with him. I mean, look past his charm and he wears them all the time. The black and yellow colour scheme also ties in as warning colours ⚠️

Put them all together and this was one of my first sketches of Demon!Rire.

*Note that I already more or less knew how he looked other than his outfit; you will probably have a lot more sketch duds as you figure out what your character looks like.

---/EXAMPLE---

🔐 Don't lock yourself in

Despite the fact I've just said "pretend your character is a person", remember you're still their creator so obviously you have final say over them. Sometimes you'll find that they grow and change from what you initially thought of them (or you just evolve in how you draw them). Don't be afraid to make the tweaks and changes that enhance these - whether they be physical or core characteristics - and you'll get closer to the true character you always had in mind.

---EXAMPLE--

I now draw Rire with a more pronounced V-shape, longer, wavier hair, and somehow he ended up with way more pronounced eyelashes than I usually draw on my male characs. Which works out quite well considering how I tend to draw his eyes. Anyway the point of this is that these things developed over time as I kept drawing him.

---/EXAMPLE---

🍀 Try it out with your own characs! Have fun and don't force yourself to try and get it "right" on the first go.

#prettyboysmakegravezz #character design #ref #character design tips #hope this is kinda helpful!#also honestly have fun aye #long post #also as for other content with rire there kinda is but he's not really the main charac lol #also who knows when that will come out im a bit pedantic planning a webcomic #sz

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kingkatsuki · 1 year

Note

Imagining Mitsuki trying to play matchmaker

And maybe she’s done that before, thrown girls at her son hoping he’ll hit it off with one of them and give her grandchildren. But it just royally pisses him off and he wants nothing to do with any of them. Then maybe she gives up for a while

But booooyyyyy oh boy, if you’ve caught his eye and she notices? She may not have introduced you, but she’ll make it happen. Just trying to help him out ya know?

She’d have to be as subtle about it as possible though. I could see him pushing you away just to spite her, even if he was head over heels for you.

I got a little carried away talking about this, but I just love the idea of Mitsuki meaning well, but never quite getting it right.

Warnings: Mitsuki tries to play matchmaker.

Word Count: 1.6k.

It isn’t that Mitsuki wants to force him into a relationship, she means well. She doesn’t like the thought of him coming home to an empty apartment each night, especially because she’s one of the few people who know about his night terrors. She’s been on the receiving end of many a call at four in the morning where he’s calling to make sure everything’s okay, or hearing him as a young man screaming in the night when he wakes up from another one of those nightmares. And although she’s taught him well, never needing to learn to cook, clean or use a washing machine— some companionship can’t hurt.

There was a time that Mitsuki thought that Bakugou wasn’t searching for love— that he’d already found it. His cheeks turning a violent red when she’d suggested that he was dating Kirishima, immediately reassuring him that she wouldn’t love him any less and that she’s happy he’s found someone as Bakugou tried to set her straight.

It isn’t that she ignores Bakugou when he says he’s not looking. She’s just worried, and maybe she’s right. Maybe he is lonely, and could use someone to help fill that void between work and sleep.

A mother can always tell, after all.

But Mitsuki’s methods can be a little unorthodox. Masaru tries to tell her not to meddle, that their son will find love when he wants to. On his terms, when he’s good and ready. But now he’s pushing thirty, not even a tabloid based rumour about a girlfriend and she starts to get antsy.

The window for grandchildren is slowly closing, and the hope is diminishing so of course she has to take matters into her own hands. It’s for Bakugou’s benefit, it’s like she’s doing him a favour.

At first Mitsuki is trying to set him up with someone based on attributes, wealth, success, career goals. Even though it’s difficult trying to find someone as motivated and strong as her son, she knows there are thousands upon thousands of women out there that would love to date him.

And poor Bakugou would prefer to be doing anything else with his time, sitting in his boxers playing video games and sipping a beer sounds far better than a twelve course dinner with portions so small he’s got to cook at home after. Especially with women he could care less about, listening to them drone on at him about their meaningless lives while he picks at his hors d'oeuvre two courses in.

No matter how perfect these women seem on paper, how compatible they are based on personality tests and star signs the dates never work out.

When this tactic doesn’t work, Mitsuki still won’t give up. Working in the fashion industry for as long as she has means she’s got a phone book full of gorgeous women. Personalities may not match up, but however bias it may sound she knows her son is an attractive man. So it’s easy to scroll through her contacts to find an array of women who would jump at the chance of a date with the Number Two Hero (also another benefit she slips in to conversation).

Bakugou tugs at the black tie around his neck as he stands awkwardly in the corner of another one of his mothers networking parties. Wondering how at 29 he’s still subjected to this kind of misery, thinking this would have stopped well into his teenage years. Groaning internally when he can see her out of the corner of his eye dragging a pretty young woman towards him. He knows the drill, knows exactly what that old hag is up to as she gives him a warning glare that only he can see. Turning to the poor girl with a faux sincere smile as she introduces her to him, her hand tightening around his forearm in warning as he offers his hand out to the poor girl.

But as quickly as Mitsuki arrived she’s gone, pretending to wave at someone in the crowd as she excuses herself and leaves Bakugou standing alone with this woman. Listening to her begin to rattle off ad campaigns or endorsements she’s been involved in like he gives a fuck, and talking about how many offers she’s received for her next one. It’s all he can do not to tell her that he doesn’t care and walk off as he notices that old hag watching from across the room as he throws back his whiskey and excuses himself to the bar. At least there’s enough alcohol to drown out the pain and suffering his mother is currently inflicting on him.

Mitsuki’s quick to join him, wine glass in hand, as she asks what he thinks and gushes about how pretty and perfect she is.

“Yeah? So why don’t you date ‘er then?” Bakugou scoffs as his mother rolls her eyes and he can tell if there were fewer people in the room she would’ve hit him upside the head by now.

It’s exhausting.

Groaning as he collapses into bed to find one new text message from the girl he’d been introduced to hours earlier. Knowing that his interfering mother had clearly given his phone number out— again.

But when perfect matches, and pretty faces don’t work Mitsuki changes tactic. After that, it’s just anyone.

Bakugou could be saying thank you to a girl in a coffee shop whilst he’s out running errands and Mitsuki is asking if she wants to go on a date with her son— she already had a boyfriend. Or the kind waitress at lunch who gave him a little extra spice in his ramen— she wasn’t interested in men. And even one time where Bakugou stopped to let a lady onto the train before him— she ended up posting about it all over social media before he’d even arranged the first date.

Deep down, there’s never anyone Bakugou truly wants. Dates are done out of obligation, and spending a few hours taking someone out for food or drinks means his mother is off his back for a few weeks or a few months depending on how well he can hide the immediate break up.

It’s a few months later when Bakugou realises the true lengths of how far his mother is willing to go to get him married off. He’s given a short, curt answer about his last break up. A “relationship” that Mitsuki thinks lasted for six months, but really there wasn’t even a third date. He’s out for drinks with the guys after work when Mina shoves her phone in his face, drunkenly squealing about how she didn’t realise he was trying to date people right now. And Bakugou didn’t realise himself— grabbing the phone from her as he assessed the profile. Thinking it was just another scam account trying to con lonely, desperate women out of their money, but he notices it. Pictures uploaded to the profile that only his mother has access to, key words that she’s used on many occasions to describe him.

That old hag. He groans, passing the phone back to Mina as he steps out of the bar to call his mother. Hearing the disappointment in her tone when he says he’s not interested. She doesn’t even try to hide the fact she made the profile, telling him there’s hundreds of women replying to his page. That he can have his pick of any of them if he wants to— but it just doesn’t feel right?

Until there’s you.

And there’s almost something about you that makes Mitsuki not try, because however much she loves and adores her son you’re almost too good for him? You exude happiness, positivity and love. And Bakugou is well, Bakugou.

And somehow you get together and you just work? Like there’s some sort of gravitational pull navigating you into each others orbit. And everything is just easy.

It’s not like expensive dinners, formalities and pretense. It’s comfortable, safe, warm. When Bakugou finds his place with you, he wonders how he ever spent so many years alone. Now he can’t ever imagine life without you, and Mitsuki is shocked when he appears at the door with you for the first time. Because for the first time, her son looks genuinely happy.

The most positive thing about it is now she no longer has to try and play matchmaker for Bakugou, the hard work is finally over. And now she has far more things she can annoy him with instead— like grandchildren and marriage.

And although she may hate to admit it, she’s happy that her son could pick a better match for himself than she ever could. No matter how much she insists that if she’d met you first she would’ve immediately set you two up on a date.

Bakugou finally found his own happiness in you.

But just because she no longer has to play matchmaker, doesn’t mean she won’t try to organise your wedding, your first home, your first child. And you better be prepared for her slightly unorthodox methods for that too— as she buys you pretty lingerie for birthdays, Christmas, Valentines—

“You can’t buy my wife lingerie for valentines, you old hag!”

“Maybe if you’d marry her she’d actually be your wife, you little brat. You should be grateful I’m trying to help.”

And oysters being the main course when she invites you over for dinner—

“They’re a natural aphrodisiac, you know”

“You can’t talk about sex so openly when we’re eating, you old hag. Jesus—”

Most family dinners include Masaru offering you a large glass of wine in the kitchen as you watch your spouses argue together.

But deep down Bakugou is just grateful that you stick around even though Mitsuki is almost a third wheel in your relationship. But you make the perfect team, and together you can handle anything— even his mother.

#soft bakugou

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glitterycvm · 3 months

Text

Herbalist!Reader X Sukuna

WARNINGS: SMUT, p in v, degrading, rough sex, sukuna being mean

a/n: this took so long to write 😭😭

synopsis: sukuna gives u a reward for healing him

divider creds: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

it was about 11pm at night, and you needed to grab a couple more herbs to complete a medicine order. the thing was, the order was due tomorrow morning, and you had procrastinated the whole day. so here you are, roaming around the forest scrummaging around bushes, and trees, basket in hand which a flashlight in the other.

you were peacefully looking through a patch of echinacea, when you suddenly heard someone grunting with pain. you were a little worried, nobody ever came into this area, especially at 11PM at night... you were also curious about the noise, wanting to find out the cause of it. what's the worst that could happen?

flashlight in your hand you try to find the source of the noise, which soon turned into heavy pants and footsteps. as you searched you heard footsteps approaching you, you hide behind a bush,you place a hand over your mouth to muffle your breathing. then you see a tall pink haired man who was clearly very beat up, cuts spotted all around his chest area. he also had very distinct black tattoos. even though you could barely see him under the moonlight, you couldn't deny that he was very attractive.

you felt an urge to get to know him, to be near him, to just be in his presence so you take a deep breath and approach the tall man. as you walk towards him, "excuse me!" you belt as you walk closer to the man. he turns around and looks down at you. gosh he was so tall. and the way he looked at you, his piercing dangerous gaze. "what?" he hisses, hand over his chest. there was blood all over his hand. you looked back up at him sympathetically "I noticed that you're injured, like really badly..." you pointed out "and I was wondering if you wanted to come back with me to my cottage so I could take care of your wounds?" you offer. oh the innocence in your eyes, the way you looked up at him, the kindness of your heart. sukuna was invested. he wanted to ruin all that kindness and Innocence in you. he found it so cute that you had no idea what you were about to drag yourself into.

sukuna smirks, he bends down to your level, he scoffs loudly "you think I would need your help? please.I think I can take care of myself." he mocks. his words make your heart ache, why was he so mean about it? but you weren't gonna give up now. he was going to be yours. "are you sure? you know you have a lot to say for a guy who's nearly bleeding out" you remark, crossing your arms in the process. "c'mon let me fix you up, unless it hurts your precious little ego-" you tease. sukuna glared at you dangerously "you better watch your mouth." he grunts, you smirk, "aw? did that hurt your feelings?" you mock him. "you know what? if it makes you shut up, fine then!" he snaps. sukuna was loving the little game you were playing with him. if anything it made him even more attracted to you.

"so your name's sukuna?" you repeat, as you begin to clean his wounds. "didn't I just say that?" he snaps back. "woah chill out" you mutter as you begin to open a jar of aloe vera gel. sukuna rolls his eyes and stares up at the wooden roof of your humble cottage. "this might sting so be prepared" you warn before spreading a thin layer on his wounds. sukuna hisses at the sharp burning sensation. he looked so hot when he felt pain. the way his eyebrows furrowed, and the sounds he made... you wanted him so badly. you close the jar tightly, "that should be it" you comment. sukuna sits up on the couch, as you stay sitting on the floor. now you could get what you really wanted this whole time. "you know I think I did a really good job" you praise yourself. sukuna smirks sharply "I guess you did..." he admits "don't you think I should get a little reward?..." you ask slyly, as you rise up from your knees. sukuna chuckles "oh and what would that reward be?"

SCHLAP. SCHLAP .SCHLAP."s-slow down sukuna!" you mewl, placing a hand near his hips to try to slow him down. sukuna chuckles and grabs both of your hands and pin them to your back. "what happened to wanting that reward huh? too much f' you to handle slut?" he whispers in your ear, his voice raspy and endearing. he slaps your ass as he mercilessly thrusts into you. your sweet moans echo throughout your small cottage, the sound of skin slapping harmonizes with your moans. "if you keep going like this, you'll get hurt again..." you warn him. he rolls his eyes "oh well, you'll just have to fix me up again, and we both know you would love that." he says coldly. he thrusts into you like he's running out of time. his second cock rubbing up against your clit giving you endless amounts of ecstasy.

"i-im so close" you whined, sukuna smirks and flips you around making you lay on your back this time. you whine at your denied orgasm, sukuna just laughs devilishly. "didn't think I would let you come so quickly did you? you thought I would forget about that attitude you gave me earlier? now come and take this cock like the filthy slut you are." he demands as he aligns his cock with your entrance. the way he degrades you just turns you one even more, your pussy getting wetter by the second. without warning he slams into your hole, his second cock now grinding on your puffy clit rapidly. sukuna pushes your legs all the way to your chest, so he could abuse the shit out of your cervix. the amount of pleasure you were receiving was both heavenly and painful. your eyes were filling with tears from all the sensations.

you once again attempt to slow him down by placing a hand on his chest. sukuna grabs both your hands and pins them above your head, he leans in to whisper in your ear "don't run away now, where was the filthy whore I met a while ago? I thought you wanted this as a reward? that's what I thought. now shut up and take this dick." he commands. oh the way he degraded you was so hot. he talked to you like you meant nothing to him. the pleasure you were getting made you shed tears. sukuna scoffs at the sight, despite absolutely loving seeing you with wet glossy eyes. "such a crybaby... be grateful I haven't put both my cocks in you, ungrateful whore" he comments as his thrusts get sloppier but the second, his pants getting raspier. your moans grow in volume, you were so fucked out.

"f-fuck m' so close sukuna!!" you exclaim, as you feel your orgasm approaching, sukuna grunts as he chases his own orgasm along with you. he leans in, whispering in your ear "you like it when I pound into you hm? you're so cock thirsty for me aren't you?" he grunts, "y-yes! sukuna!" you mewl, the sound of slapping skin quickens as you both reach your orgasms. you both let out deep groans, sukuna fills you up with his cum, a string connecting his dick to your cunt as he pulls out. as you try to sit back up, a hand pushes you back down.

"who said I was done?"

#jjk x reader #smut #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #j #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen x reader

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daikiswife · 1 year

Text

Headcanon: Dating a black Bimbo

notes: Hey hey! English isn't my first language so sorry if it's not perfect!

synopsis: Just, what if Dabi and Shigaraki had a Black Bimbo girlfriend~

warning: fluff, nsfw, cursing, semi-public, degrading, dry humping, cock drunk, pussy drunk, breeding kink, reader is part of the lov.

Tomura Shigaraki

First of all, your relationship is a true definition of "opposites attract". Shigaraki is the quiet type and he's outstanding only when he has to. When you're bubbly, extravagant and kind of loud sometimes.

but somehow you both get together

he likes the way you dress, and even if he doesn't say it out loud, he still wonders why a girl like you would date him

"so how do I look ?"

he stares at you for so long without saying anything, you are way too hot for his poor brain "Take a picture it'll last longer~" you say with a smirk on your lips. "stfu. That skirt is way too short, you hoe." you stick your tongue out to him "yeah yeah, you like it though~"

when you started dating, due to his quirk. he was very uncomfortable with touching you.

but you're touch starved and you need his hands ALL. OVER. YOU.

so he bought some digital artist gloves, spending his time squeezing your waist, thighs and ass no matter if people are watching or not

he'll slides his hand between your thighs, lightly strocking your covered pussy.

he also likes to kiss your neck slowly going down reaching your deep-cut biting your perky nipples through your shirt

he LOVES when you get your nails done make it long af he loves it "next time you should do them in baby blue... it would suit you"

he will definitely pay for your nails.

if you take him shopping he will complain all day about how much he wants to go home to play video games

but if you want something, he'll pay for it.

"Baby, what do you think of this one ?" he lazily raises his head to look at you "You look like a whore" "okay I'll take this one then~"

once again Shigaraki loves your style so he doesn't mind if what you're wearing "too short" or "too revealing", he likes it

but if someone dare look at you in some disgusting ways, he'll decay them without thinking twice

Don't look at his girl like if she was a piece of meat.

Shigaraki is very possessive

he likes to have you close when there's a lot of people around

so you're often on his lap, even during meetings

but you're such a tease, always trying to get him hard when you're supposed to sit still

pretending to find a more comfortable way to sit as you just press his covered cock with your ass

but your actions have consequences

and Shigaraki is not the patient type.

at the second that the two of you will be alone, he'll bent you over any surfaces and shoves his hard penis inside of you

"Aw look at you" he cooed "you're moaning like a dumb slut on my cock~"

he'll go rough on you, making you moaning and screaming. letting everyone around earing you "that's it baby, scream my name let them know who you're belonging to~"

Dabi

From fuck buddies to lovers in blink of an eye

You get under this man skin ngl

He loves your style, that what's peak his interest in you, but now that you both are dating he can't stop noticing the looks of others on you.

Dabi takes any occasions he has to smack your ass and boobs

"Okay I'm leaving see you later baby" you say and he looks at you "not with that skirt. go change yourself" "wtf no! I love this skirt!" he sighs "babe, I can see your bright pink thong from where I am. it's not even covering you ass properly."

like this man will do it in public with a proud smile when you'll turn to look at him

"look baby I got some new nails~!" "you really do like scratching my back, ain't you~" "wha- ITS NOT ABOUT SEX !"

Dabi is not really fond of nails, like he doesn't like it when it's too long and he will never pay for it

but he will definitely pay for nipples piercings

"oh no... I've break one of my nails..." he smirks "oh no you'll not going to require my help to masturbate anymore~"

Dabi is possessive and oddly jealous

if he sees you speaking with an other guy he'll come calmly, grabbing you by the hips, backhugging you while sending death glares to the poor guy.

when the guy is gone, you'll look at him with a disapproval look "What ? At least he's alive."

he loves making sexual jokes obviously but there's those moments when he's looking at you for a short time and his only thought is "damn I love this girl..."

"You're really pretty you know that ?" he says, dragging you on his lap "where did that come from?" "shut up, just take the compliment"

He's really weak for your touch and when I say weak, it's an HEAVY "weak".

And sometimes no matter where you are, you'll be ending with him between your thighs, your legs wraps around him while he fucks you deep and hard against a wall

his lips busy biting your neck and giving you hickeys, holding back his moans

shhh... I know princess~" he whiper next to ears, biting you lobe lightly "But you have to keep it down, people will ear you~"

he'll keep fucking you, filling you with cum before letting you go "You're such a good girl~"

Then you'll both join the meeting like nothing happens

and he'll smirks like an ass seeing his seed slowly running down your thighs

note: I'm sorry if the NSF isn't good I'm not to write those in english :(

#anime x black!reader #black!fem!reader #black coded reader #dabi x reader #dabi x black!reader #bimbo reader #black bimbo #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x black!reader #mha x reader #mha x black reader #mha headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha lov #league of villians x reader #bnha headcannons

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roosterforme · 7 months

Text

How You Play the Game Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley takes the day off from work to spend it with you instead. He has no right to feel as jealous as he does when someone else asks you out, and it leaves him wondering exactly what it would be like to date you. It's obvious you need a break from another night in a hotel room, so Bradley takes you somewhere more comfortable.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, angst, oral and smut (18+)

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You wiggled around in Bradley's arms as he kissed your shoulder late the following morning. He loosened his grip on you but didn't let go completely, and once you were facing him, he pulled you close so your body was pressed to his from head to toe.

When you kissed him, images of mini golf and a late night dinner filled your mind, and you snuggled in. This was so much more than fucking. This was a full blown love affair. And maybe it was starting to feel too intense and scary because you'd never experienced anything like this before, but this was something you'd never forget. You'd have to fight to get over Bradley, but you would never forget him. And now you were determined to enjoy the rest of your time here.

"Do you want to go eat the mediocre continental breakfast with me before they close everything up at ten o'clock?"

He chuckled, and the sound of it made you smile. He didn't really belong in your world, and you didn't belong in his, but this overlap was something special.

"Yeah, Ace," he rasped, running his fingers inside his Padres jersey which you were still wearing and wrapping his hand around your hip. He lifted his head up and checked the time on the alarm clock. "It's 9:30, Baby. Let's go eat, and you can tell me what we're doing today."

You simply buttoned up his jersey, skipping a bra, and pulled your jeans back on while he also got dressed in yesterday's clothing. On the walk to the elevator, he was looking down at his shirt while he held your hand. "Great. I got maple syrup on myself at the diner."

"That's why you smell so good."

Bradley laughed and backed you up against the wall inside the elevator. "Well, I didn't bring anything else to wear, and you look mighty cozy in my jersey, so I guess you'll have to smell maple syrup on me all day. You look so cute in that thing, I think it's yours now."

You let him tip your head back and kiss you while he ran one sure hand along your butt and gave you a squeeze. Your heart pounded a little faster at the prospect of always having his shirt with you so you could wear it any time. You briefly wondered if you could get away with still wearing it if you ever had a boyfriend, but it was almost amusing that you could only picture yourself with Bradley now.

"Oh, I have an idea," you said, giggling softly as you exited the elevator and led him toward the crowded breakfast area.

"What's that?" he asked, piling a plate full of waffles and drenching them in syrup. Then he muttered, "Fuck it. The shirt's already a mess."

You had to stifle your laughter as you got your own plate of food ready, and then Bradley found a small table with only one chair and quickly claimed it. You set your plate down and he patted his thigh indicating that you could sit on his lap. You'd already had sex with him, multiple times. You shouldn't feel butterflies in your tummy over the idea of the intimacy of sitting on his lap in front of strangers.

"How do you take your coffee?" you asked, bending to kiss his forehead.

"Black," he replied, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. "No sugar."

"Boring," you whispered with a grin that he immediately matched. Then you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked to the coffee station and made one paper cup of coffee just the way you liked it before dispensing his as well. When you turned to face him, his eyes were already on yours, and he was patting his leg like he couldn't stand being without you for another minute.

"Ace," he grunted, raising one eyebrow, and when you set the coffees down, he pulled you onto his lap. "That's better. Now what's on the agenda for the day?"

You kissed his cheek as he took a bite of waffle. "Well, my agenda consists of another exclusive interview and article submission before the game tonight. So I guess it's our agenda now."

"Sounds fun," he said, and you watched him drip more syrup onto his shirt. "Fuck," he growled while you hooted with laughter.

"It's okay. I have a solution," you promised him. And when you were done eating, you took him by the hand and went to refill the coffees. "Let's visit the gift shop."

"Good idea," he muttered. "I need a toothbrush and deodorant."

"And I'm buying you a new shirt," you added once you were inside the small shop. You handed a pink toothbrush and some men's deodorant to the girl who was working, and then you pushed Bradley toward all of the Angels tee shirts, but he was just shaking his head.

"I can't wear one of these. The Padres will know, Ace." But he was smiling as you reached for a red one with an 'A' on the front.

"Which size?" you asked, and when he responded saying he needed an extra large, you looked through all the racks. "The biggest is a large." When you asked the girl who was working if there were more shirts, she shook her head.

Bradley held a size large up to his body and said, "I guess I can make it work. I don't know if red's my color though."

But you took it from his hands and said, "Only one way to find out." Then you charged everything to your room, and Bradley leaned down to kiss your neck and whisper thank you. "It's the least I can do after mini golf and the diner and the baseball tickets and how many miles you've driven to see me."

He followed you to the elevator as he said, "I did all of that because I wanted to."

"And I bought you a shirt, because I wanted to." Maybe you hoped he'd continue to wear it past the weekend. After you were gone. You didn't want to think about it as a frown creased your forehead. But it was like he knew what you were thinking, because he kissed you softly as you rode the elevator back up to your floor.

Once the door closed and you were both alone in the hotel room, Bradley pulled his stained Padres shirt off, and you marvelled at his body once again. Snug jeans buttoned just below his belly button. Tan skin everywhere. Abs that you couldn't help but close the distance to him and trace with your fingers.

Bradley cleared his throat as you dropped the bag from the shop to the floor, and he watched your fingers glide up his abs toward his solid chest. "What time is your exclusive interview?" he asked, his voice rough with need. "And where?"

"At 12:30. Across the street at the ballpark," you whispered, and then he had you in his arms.

"I have an idea," he said, practically carrying you into the bathroom. "Let's take a shower together." You almost wanted to say no. You just knew that having his body all warm and slick and pressed up against yours would be almost too much. But then you were unbuttoning his pants, and he was stripping off the jersey and your jeans.

The two of you made out as he cranked the water to hot, and the room was filled with steam by the time you wrapped your hand around his cock, and he followed you into the shower. Bradley stood behind you, blocking most of the hot spray as he ran his palms covered in body wash up and down the front of you. "Feel good?" he asked, smiling against your skin. Because of course it felt good to have his big hands on your nipples and rubbing your clit just right.

This man barely had to do anything to get you off. Just his deep voice coaxing you along while he touched you. "Love those little noises, Ace. I love it when you say my name."

Your legs were shaking as you whined for him, and his sturdy body was the only thing keeping you upright as you saw stars. You came around two of his fingers shoved in your pussy while you rocked against his thumb on your clit. And before he could agree or disagree with your plan, you were on your knees for him with his cock in your mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned as you took him deep without any warning. You were blinking against the water droplets that hit you in the face as Bradley guided you a little slower with one hand at the back of your head and the other stroking your cheek. "You're the best, Ace," he crooned, the scars on his neck prominent against his Adam's apple and his voice strained. "So fucking good, Baby."

You let him guide you at the pace he wanted it, and you were rewarded with Bradley's voice practically growling your proper name as he filled your throat with his cum. You swallowed him down as you sucked until he had to pull you away from him and haul you to your feet. The shower wall was cold against your back and butt as Bradley devoured your mouth. You knew he must have tasted himself there as he sucked on your lip and licked your tongue.

As the minutes passed, the tempo slowed, and the two of you eventually broke apart with matching smiles. You managed to finish showering as Bradley's rosy cheeks grew a deeper shade of pink. "You're really something else, Ace."

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

"I can't wear this," Bradley murmured as he pulled on the Angels shirt you'd purchased for him after breakfast. You and he really needed to get over to the ballpark so you could interview one of the players, and you looked like a million bucks in your jeans and casual blouse. But Bradley was in his jeans and a shirt that left nothing to the imagination. You could probably count his abs through this thing. But you were gaping at him and mumbling something.

"You look hot," you gasped, eyes growing wider. "Like ridiculously hot, Bradley."

He turned to look in the mirror, and there was a reason he bought extra large shirts. This one actually was a nice color on him, but the sleeves were tight on his biceps, and the whole thing was too snug across his chest. But he supposed it wasn't too terrible. It would get him through the day until he could get back home.

And then what? Would he see you at that same hotel in San Diego again? Would you want him to stay over with you? He was already itching to invite you to his house after the game tonight, but that seemed presumptuous. And having your body tucked against his all night long in a hotel room had some different implications than having your body next to his in his own bed. But he wanted it. He wanted to know what that would feel like. The specific way his own sheets would feel against his bare legs as you whispered good night with his arm wrapped around you.

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "If you think I look okay, then let's get going." His voice sounded strange to his own ears, but you didn't seem to notice as you grabbed your bag with everything you would need and kissed his cheek.

"Seriously, it's almost too hot," you said, rubbing your hand along his belly and biting your lip. "And if anyone asks, you really are my assistant."

Bradley rolled his eyes to make you laugh, but upon arrival at the ballpark, he watched as you were searched for only the approved recording devices, and then he was searched as well. When someone asked him for his credentials, you pulled a pass from the plastic pouch on your lanyard. As soon as the guards examined the card with NEW YORK TIMES MEDIA EXCLUSIVE printed all over it, they seemed to be content to allow you both into the players only corridor.

"Come on, intern Bradshaw. Don't dawdle," you scolded playfully. But when he reached for your hand, you just shook your head. "Not here," you whispered, and then Bradley followed you into a room filled with cameras and players and reporters. Filming was taking place all over the enormous room, and he supposed it would look bad for you if he was holding your hand in the background of a photo printed by the Chicago Tribune.

"Who are you interviewing anyway?" he asked as you walked directly through the room and down another hallway that emptied out next to the Angels dugout.

"Sheldon Darvish."

"Shit," Bradley murmured, because when he looked up, the pitcher who had been carrying the Angels through the postseason was right in front of him. He watched as you greeted the other man like you and he were old friends with a lingering handshake and some laughter.

"Before we go on the record, I hope it's okay that I have a guest with me today?" you asked. "He doesn't have any recording devices on him."

Darvish barely spared a glance at Bradley where he leaned against the wall, nodding at him briefly before turning back toward you and saying, "It's fine with me. I've known you so long, I trust you."

"Okay, perfect," you replied, digging your recording device out of your bag as Sheldon Darvish sat down on the bench and patted the spot next to him. Then you sat awfully close to him and informed him that he was now on the record with you.

And Bradley was starting to have an issue with the way this guy was looking at you. While you kept your posture steady and set the recorder on the bench, Bradley watched Sheldon's eyes dip down to your blouse as you got your notebook and pen ready. And was his smile supposed to look charming when you asked him questions? Because he looked annoying to Bradley. This asshole probably thought he was hot shit, "accidentally" bumping your leg with his a few times.

But this guy actually was hot shit. Bradley listened to you rattle off some of his statistics while Darvish shrugged like his killer pitching was nothing. He would probably be the Angels' ace starter next year. He was most definitely going to get a massive contract extension. His pitching had been phenomenal. He was actually handsome. And he was familiar with you. And now Bradley was wondering if you ever slept with this guy.

The fact that he didn't have the right to feel jealous did not escape him, and Bradley even managed to evade the alarm bells going off in his mind when he told himself to pump the brakes. But then he had to watch as you finally ended the interview and turned off the recording device as you stood, and the pitcher's gaze followed your delicious body as you packed your bag again.

"We're off the record," you told Darvish with a smile. "You didn't hear it from me, but good luck tonight. I know you're on short rest after your last start."

"Thanks," he replied easily, and when he stood, he was every bit as tall as Bradley. Maybe even taller. And now Bradley felt like an idiot standing here in a snug Angels shirt like he was some sort of fan of this guy who was currently asking you out. "Hey, if you're free right now, I'd love to take you to lunch. Anywhere you want. I have an hour or two before I need to start icing my shoulder."

You smiled and shook your head as you backed away. "That's never a good idea, and you know it. But I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

Before you could even turn all the way toward Bradley, Sheldon replied with, "Any time I see your name, I agree to an exclusive. Just in case you've changed your mind."

"Bye, Sheldon," you said with a little wave. Then you walked over to Bradley like he hadn't just witnessed something unsavory and asked, "You ready to go? I need some time to write this up and submit it."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted. And he glared at the major league baseball player who was currently looking at your ass. Apparently you were so far out of Bradley's league, it was some sort of a joke. But he was jealous and annoyed, and on the walk back through the room with all the cameras, he asked, "Did you ever sleep with that guy?"

You glanced briefly up at him over your shoulder, but you didn't respond until you were alone in the hallway. And even then, you kept walking along instead of looking at Bradley as you said, "Are you seriously asking me if I ever had sex with Sheldon Darvish? Have I not made it clear to you that I value my career?"

Your voice was calm, but Bradley could tell right away that you were pissed off. And he didn't think it was because he struck the truth with his statement. He had just offended you and your professionalism. "Ace, I-"

"Did you not hear what he said about agreeing to exclusives?" you snapped as you picked up your pace. "I'm not oblivious to the fact that I am young and a woman. If I slam the door in Darvish's face and start yelling about how unprofessional it would be to sleep with him, then guess what... no more interviews. And that goes for a handful of other players and coaches, too. I can't play the game the same way as the boys, Bradley. It doesn't work that way."

"Shit," he muttered, lengthening his strides to keep up with you as you exited the hallway near the ballpark entrance. "Ace. I'm sorry. I was out of line for so many reasons."

You came to a stop in the deserted concourse and looked up at him with tears in your eyes. "No, I never slept with Sheldon Darvish. No, I don't sleep around when I'm on the job. You're an anomaly, Bradley Bradshaw. And you're free to get in your cool car and go back to San Diego any time you want."

"Ace!" he practically shouted as you turned away, reaching for your hand even though you would probably pull it away. But you didn't. So he kissed you like he'd been dying to for the past hour. Just a short, soft press of his lips to yours, but it was enough to convey what he wanted it to. "I got jealous. I'm sorry. I know you're a pro. I'm just an idiot."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you coming back with me while I write this thing?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

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

You sat perched on Bradley's lap while you proofread your newest piece on Darvish, and Bradley rubbed your back softly. As soon as you got back to the hotel room, you changed back into his Padres jersey instead of your stuffy blouse even though you knew you'd have to change back before the game tonight.

"This is really good," Bradley murmured, reading over your shoulder. "I'm still surprised how quickly you can put an article together that makes me want to read it five times to catch all of the details."

Every time he said something so complimentary about your writing, you wanted to tell Greg Pfeffer to fuck off and then stay in California with Bradley. Your phone started ringing on the table next to your computer, and it was Greg himself. You pressed your index finger to your lips, warning Bradley not to talk, and then you answered the call and put it on speaker phone while you submitted your piece.

"Hi, Greg. Perfect timing, I'm about to send in my Darvish exclusive."

"I've been waiting for it," he barked in response. "Thursdays are slow as shit until the Thursday night football stats come in. You know this. I want to get this one online immediately."

You had to stifle a sigh as Bradley tightened his grip on you. "It's not even three in the afternoon here, Greg. But it's nearly finished, so I'll send it over now."

"Don't forget the hard cutoff tonight after the game."

And then Greg ended the call, and you were left with silence. Bradley kissed your neck and whispered, "He's such a fucking idiot. Doesn't appreciate what he's got."

You could count on one hand the number of times you were a couple minutes late submitting an article in the past eight years. And maybe Bradley was right, but there was a price to be paid when you were at the top of your game. And that price was a lot higher for women. You submitted your article and waited for the receipt to arrive in your email inbox along with the daily recruitment emails. There was a pretty good chance Bradley caught a glimpse of the screen before you closed your computer and melted into his arms, but you didn't care.

He held you silently on his lap just like that for a long time with his big hands keeping you warm and the steady rise and fall of his chest calming you. And then you must have fallen asleep. Because you jolted in his arms, and he chuckled, and the light coming in through the window looked different.

"What time is it?" you asked softly.

"Four."

The game was at six, and you didn't want to move at all, so you let yourself indulge in Bradley for a little bit longer. You snuggled in closer and listened to his deep voice make suggestions that you knew you shouldn't consider. "I was thinking... you and I should go back to my place after the game tonight. I really should get to work tomorrow, and you could have a day off to rest before game six on Saturday. You know, somewhere other than a hotel room?"

"Yes." The word was out of your mouth so quickly, and he kissed the top of your head. It had been almost two months since you'd been in your own bed, and now you were curious to see what Bradley's place was like. You were convinced it would be as cozy as he was. "After the game tonight."

When you looked up at him, he was smiling. And that gorgeous smile was still there when you and he arrived at the crowded gate for the game. "Oh, shit. I wasn't even thinking you'd need a ticket," you said as you pulled out your pass. "I doubt there are any for sale, but I can ask-"

"I bought one online while you were napping."

You gaped at him. "How much did you spend?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied, holding up his phone to get the ticket scanned. "Worth every cent."

The warmth you were feeling carried over to the press box where Bradley smiled and waved at Quincy when he turned and glared in your direction. "You okay, man?" he asked him. "Game's happening in that direction." Bradley pointed down to the field until Quincy turned back around. "These assholes really are obsessed with everything you do," Bradley mumbled. "It's like they've never seen a woman outdoing them before."

You had to stifle your laughter during which was becoming a very boring game. After Darvish only pitched four innings, both teams started blowing through their backup pitchers to try to keep the score at 0-0 for as long as possible. Even your stats sheet was boring, and you weren't sure how you were going to make your article interesting.

"I need to find a way to spice this up a little bit," you said before taking a sip from the water bottle Bradley fetched for you. "Because this game is not very interesting."

"I think it's fascinating, but that may just be because I'm sitting next to you," he replied from his folding chair with his leg pressed to yours. "Could be biased. And I can think of a way to spice things up."

You pressed your lips together before saying, "Tell me."

Bradley's eyes landed on the single room restroom as he said, "You're very good at baseball dirty talk. Write that shit into your article, and nobody will know what hit them."

"You really did like that, huh?"

He groaned softly in response, and you had to squeeze your thighs together. "Pitching stats and batting averages in your voice... Baby, it's too damn hot."

You grinned as he was still wearing that snug Angles shirt which would have looked a little silly on most men. When you let your hand come to rest on his thigh at the top of the sixth inning, you whispered, "The Padres have a combined batting average that's almost five percent higher than the rest of the league."

"Tell me more," he whispered, his cheeks already growing rosy.

After you made sure nobody was looking, you wrote down the pitch count and said, "I think it's because they change their batting order so frequently. Keeps the other teams guessing what's coming next."

You cupped his cock and felt him getting harder for you. "Give me a little more, Baby," he rasped.

You giggled as you said, "Did you know the Padres' left handed batters are better even than the 1979 Pirates?"

"Shit," Bradley gasped. "Let's go fuck in the bathroom." His cheeks were bright pink and he was rock hard. You nodded, because you were turned on too. And you knew this was more than just fucking; this was some deeply indulgent reaction you had to each other that needed to be explored. You took Bradley by the hand during the break in the inning, and reached into your tote bag.

"How fast can you be?" you asked as you discreetly held up a condom.

"For you?" he asked as he followed you into the bathroom and started undoing his pants. "Fast."

Your hands were braced on the sink vanity, and your pants and underwear were down around your knees. "Oh my god," you whined as you watched your reflection in the mirror as Bradley sucked on your neck and fucked you from behind. He was going fast, his left hand next to yours while he stroked your clit with his right.

"Usually I like taking my time with you," he grunted. "But a quickie in the press box? I'll be thinking about this for the rest of my life, Ace." Then he met your eyes in the mirror, and you were shocked to find yourself cumming for him as he railed you with sharp snaps of his hips. "Shit, Baby!"

You tried your best to be quiet, and as soon as Bradley came, you spun around while he was catching his breath. "I'm going to sneak back out first," you whispered, kissing him hard on the lips and then fixing your pants. "See you out there."

You still had quite a few condoms left in your suitcase which made you smile. And you would be heading to Bradley's house in a few hours which made your smile grow. When he returned from the bathroom a minute later with his cheeks still pink and a little grin on his face, you had to cover your lips to keep from laughing.

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

You were back on Bradley's lap in your hotel room as you finished your article. But this time your bags were all packed, and you were ready to return your rental car and hit the road with him. He was taking you back to his house, and he couldn't be happier. Granted, he was working very hard to keep himself from thinking about what was coming later this weekend.

"Why are my notes blank right here?" you asked him, raising an accusatory eyebrow in his direction as you tapped your notebook.

"Oops," Bradley replied, reaching around you to playfully add some text to your paragraph. He spoke out loud as he typed, "And this is the part of the sixth inning that I missed because I was in the bathroom with Bradley."

You laughed and backspaced the sentence as you said, "I mean, that would definitely spice up the article!"

"It was kind of a boring game five. I mean, the Padres only won by one run."

"I know," you said as you typed up some flowery nonsense about how the quiet crowd at Angels Stadium was an asset to the Padres. "Let's get out of here," you said, submitting your article.

"Wait, you don't have to rush," Bradley replied, stilling your hands. "We can return your rental car and get on the road anytime."

"It's okay," you whispered. "This is as good as it's going to get. And my article will still be better than Quincy's."

"I don't doubt that," he said with a yawn. "Damn it, Ace. You're wearing me out."

After Bradley followed you to the rental car drop off, he hopped out of the still running Bronco and added your bags to the back. When you returned the keys and headed back toward him in the beams of his headlights, you reached for him. "Want me to drive so you can get a nap in? You have to work early tomorrow, and it's almost 11:30."

He didn't really want to miss a waking minute with you, but he was exhausted. And a ninety minute drive now would probably leave him in a zombie-like state at work tomorrow. "You don't mind?"

"No," you replied, and he walked you to the driver's side door and got the seat adjusted to where you needed it.

"Thanks," he whispered, kissing you in the dark parking lot as he cupped your cheek. He helped you up and closed the door, and as soon as he entered his address into your phone GPS and handed it back to you, he was falling asleep.

The soft music you selected on the radio sent him into some sweet dreams where you were still his at Thanksgiving and for Christmas and even on New Year's Eve. He dreamed about spending his birthday with you and his friends at the beach. And when he woke up to your soft voice and your hand on his leg, it just made sense.

"We're here, Bradley," you were saying with a smile in your voice. "Wake up." And when he opened his eyes, he'd never seen anything prettier. Being near you just seemed right.

"Thanks for driving," he rasped as he sat up in his Angels shirt that he kind of couldn't wait to take off. "Let's get all your stuff inside." Really, you only had one piece of luggage and your tote bag. He could hardly understand how you stayed away from home for so long with so little. It made him feel sad as he carried your things inside.

He knew his house was small, but it was comfortable and clean and everything he needed. But you gasped when you entered the cottage as Bradley turned on some lights.

"Your place is huge!" you sighed, walking around and looking at his large TV and some of the photos of his parents that were hanging up. "And really tidy for a bachelor pad."

You were grinning at him as he led you to his bedroom. "Not sure if I left unfolded laundry on my bed. I was in a rush to get up to Anaheim to see you." But luckily his room was tidy, too. And you kicked off your shoes and started to undress like you belonged there as he set your bags down.

"I need to charge my computer," you mumbled, walking around his room completely naked. "Can I borrow a shirt for bed? And where's your bathroom?"

Bradley pulled a TOP GUN shirt out of his drawer and handed it to you with a kiss. "Across the hallway." He watched you retrieve your toiletry bag and walk out of the room. He almost never had anyone else spend the night here with him. Occasionally Nat would pass out in the other room, and very rarely he'd let a girl stay overnight. But the last time that happened had been quite a while ago.

But the way you waltzed back into his room with your face clean of makeup and hugged him around the middle left him breathless. "Thanks for bringing me here. I can't even tell you how draining it is to always be in a hotel room. I just did the math when I was brushing my teeth: I haven't been in my own apartment in forty-nine nights."

Bradley was flabbergasted. "Forty-nine?! Ace, that's... way too many!"

"I know," you replied with a laugh. "And it'll probably be ninety before I get back there."

Bradley shook his head. "Come here." He tugged you toward his bed and pulled back the covers for you. "Get comfy. I'll be right back."

While he brushed his teeth and rinsed his face, Bradley thought about how you probably needed someone to take care of you occasionally. He wanted to do it. When he returned to his bedroom in his underwear, you looked so tiny wrapped up in his bedding with your head on his pillow, but you were smiling.

"You do whatever you want tomorrow, okay? But I think you should rest," he whispered as he climbed in bed and pulled you close. "Help yourself to whatever is in my refrigerator. Use my washer and dryer. Look at the baseball cards in my garage. Whatever you want. But try to relax while I'm at work."

"Yes, sir," you mumbled against his shoulder. "Thanks for reminding me I need a break."

Bradley grunted in response and turned off his lamp, but the darkness just made his senses more alert. When he kissed the top of your head, he could tell you weren't asleep yet. He ran his hand down your arm until he was holding your hand, and he couldn't hold back the words that he spoke. "Tell me what it would be like to be in a relationship with you."

When you didn't respond right away, he felt embarrassed. He'd made a jealous fool of himself earlier over Sheldon Darvish when he had no right to you whatsoever. And now he was trying to push things too far. He was about to apologize as you kissed his shoulder again.

"Nobody actually wants to date me," you said softly. "Guys just think they do. They love the idea of me, I guess. And maybe they could even grow to love me. But it's too much for them. It always is. I'm never around, and it's impossible to get in contact with me when I can't take my phone into a four hour exclusive. And I'll miss your birthday and our anniversary," you said as you laughed a little bitterly. "I stopped celebrating my own birthday when I turned twenty three and couldn't figure out which day it was as I flew to Europe for the Olympics coverage."

Bradley squeezed you and whispered, "I didn't ask what other guys thought, Ace. I asked what it would actually be like."

Once again, he was met with silence, and he realized it was because you were trying not to cry. He whispered an apology against your forehead as you said, "Parts of it would be fun, Bradley. But the other parts would be too hard, and I wouldn't want you to feel bad about losing interest in someone who you never saw."

He tipped your head up and kissed your lips. "I wouldn't lose interest. And I just really want to watch the Blue Jays with you."

You returned his kiss before you whispered, "I know." And then he let you turn so your back was to him. A minute later, you reached tentatively with your hand until you found his. Bradley let you wrap yourself up in his arms, and eventually you both fell asleep while he kissed your neck and tried not to tell you how he was really feeling.

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

He just wants to watch the Blue Jays with her. That's all he wants. This story is making me a lot more emo than I anticipated. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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cinnamontoastcrunch-15 · 3 months

Text

Today's @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is smitten!

(521 words.)

"Evans?" Sirius' voice pulls Lily from her revision. She lifts her head, ready to shoot Sirius a glare, only to find him looking hesitant. It takes her by surprise. "Could I, uh... talk to you?" Never once has Sirius come to her for advice. If he needs to talk, he goes to James, sometimes Remus. Not Lily.

Part of her wants to say no and send him to one of his close friends, but she falters. Sirius isn't stupid. He would be going to James or Remus if he could, and he isn't.

"Five minutes," she answers calmly, closing her book. Sirius doesn't hesitate in pulling out the chair opposite Lily.

"Okay, right, uh... it's about Remus," He starts. "I just figured you were the right person to ask, because he spends a lot of time with you, and he... well, uh... do you know if he's- if he... fancies anyone?"

Lily narrows her eyes suspiciously. She needs to be careful here.

"Why? You trying to play matchmaker, or something?" She asks.

"Yeah! Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing!" Sirius says triumphantly, face brightening. "He doesn't really talk about that stuff with us, so I was just curious!" He seems a lot less nervous now, even offering Lily a smile.

The issue is, Lily knows exactly where Remus stands on romance, and she's made a promise never to tell Sirius. Namely, because Remus is absolutely, 100% gone for the man, and he's also entirely convinced that Sirius doesn't feel the same way. If he's really trying to get Remus a date, then she needs to shut it down.

"...no, he doesn't," she answers simply, moving to reopen her book.

"Oh. Okay." If Lily didn't just Remus' judgement, she would say Sirius sounds pretty dejected. Ah, well. It's probably about his matchmaking game being put to a stop. Before he can say anything else, Remus' voice rings out from beside the two of them.

"Hey, Lils, I was wondering if we could- Sirius! Hi!" Sirius' head whips around, and the shift in him is obvious. His cheeks have turned a hearty shade of pink at the sight of Remus, and the expression on his face is one that Lily can only describe as smitten.

Oh, wow.

Maybe Remus' judgement is a little... clouded in this department.

Sirius offers Remus a wave, and Lily watches the two of them, trying to figure out who's going to get their head back together first.

Remus wins, blinking harshly and turning back to Lily.

"Uh... the transfiguration homework, would you want to come to the library and work on it together?" He asks, and Lily nods.

"Yeah, sure. Two seconds." She starts to collect her stuff, shoving it into her bag. Right as she gets up, she turns to Sirius one more time. "My advice, Black? Ask him." Sirius' eyes widen, a realisation hitting him.

"How did you figure it out?"

She rolls her eyes with a smile, standing and starting to walk with Remus.

"It's written all over your face!" She calls behind her shoulder with a grin, before promptly stepping out of the portrait hole with Remus.

#platonic lilypad>>>#i missed lily so have some lily perspective #wolfstar #sirius black #wolfstar oneshot #marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot

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drewsbuzzcut · 4 months

Text

So Lovely, It Feels So Right

Mat barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: SMUT, alcohol consumption, and mentions of tattoos (let me know if I missed anything)

Tonight’s the Isles wags’ annual galentine’s get together. It’s nothing fancy, just an intimate gathering at the Martin’s house. There are drinks, snacks, and a small gift exchange.

After laughing so hard your stomachs hurt and drinking various bottles of wine, it’s finally your turn to open your gift. You gently pull out the tissue paper and uncover a black thong with “i ❤️ barzal” printed on the front. You let out an infectious giggle, your cheeks growing red hot.

“Syd! Oh my god. I cannot believe you got me this,” you shriek, hands covering your eyes in faux shyness. You actually liked your little gift- that’d also be a gift for Mat.

“I wanted to get you something on brand for your relationship. We all know you love taking your man to bed. Anyways, soon you’ll be a Barzal,” she points out and you grow flustered thinking about your upcoming nuptials.

Once everyone opens their gifts and finishes their last glass of wine, someone suggests going to a tattoo shop and who are you to not go through with it? Maybe it isn’t the best idea for a bunch of inebriated women to go get tattoos, but you’ll never be one to deny a good time. Mat’s in for a treat later.

Walking up to your front door serves as a challenge, your heel keeps getting caught in the cobblestone of your driveway. It doesn’t help that your buzz is still lingering in your limbs. Finally pushing the door open, you sashay into your house. The sting of your fresh tattoo is very well present as you think about what Mat’s reaction will be like.

You walk in looking disheveled but content. Your cheeks are rosy and your eyes are glossy. Your hair is in its signature messy bun, tank top hiked up your chest to hide your newest addition to your ink collection. You don’t get far before you find Mat in the game room, playing around at the pool table.

“Baby,” you announce your presence, slowly making your way towards him.

As you round a corner of the pool table, your fingers trace the “Barzal” engraved in the wood. Your engagement ring catches every angle of the lighting, making it shine and making Mat’s heart race. He cannot wait to marry you.

“Hey, have a good night?” He asks, pulling you into his arms and swaying with you.

“A wonderful night. We laughed a lot. We also had a lot of wine,” you answer with your eyes closed in delight.

“I can tell,” that piqued your interest. You pop a single eye open.

“What do you mean?” You hop onto the edge of the pool table, arms looped over your fiancés shoulders.

“You’re all giggly and touchy. Major signs that you’re drunk,” he explains, kissing your neck.

You stay silent, too focused on his lips on your skin.

“Did Nolan go down easy?” You finally clear your head from thoughts of the man in front of you.

“Of course. He’s the most perfect baby. He had his bottle and I rocked him in the chair for a couple of hours before putting him in his crib. He’s all bundled up, too. He looks so precious,” Mat says and you coo just thinking about your baby boy.

“I’m glad he didn’t give you any trouble with his bottle. He’s been giving me hell just because I try to feed him with the bottle,” you sigh, body leaning into his.

“He’s a little momma’s boy. I can’t blame him.” You definitely agree with that.

Minutes pass by, Mat and you just looking into each other’s eyes. Every now and then he’ll play with your ring. It’s become a habit of his.

“I’m not drunk you know you,” you tut and tilt your head to the side, your eyes playfully glare him.

“Tipsy but not drunk,” you add, your heel clad feet reaching out to rub against his muscly thighs. He immediately catches your hint. You are feeling needy which is a usual occurrence when you drink wine.

“What do you need, pretty girl?” His voice gets raspy and he picks up your legs one by one and takes off your heels.

“You, baby. I need you,” you pull him down into a kiss, head starting to spin when he invades your mouth with his tongue.

His hands caress your thighs over your jeans, steadily rising to the button and zipper. The heat in the room rises and the moisture starts to collect in your underwear when he starts to undo your pants.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs when he sees your specially made panties.

You giggle and pull him into another kiss, this time you’re the one shoving your tongue down his throat. You grip and pull at his soft locks, just the way his touch grips your every nerve ending and sets them alight. Plus, the moans that vibrate through his chest are enough of a reason to not let go.

He guides you back to lay down, your body erupting in chills from his touch on your bare skin and the cold of the table. He softly squeezes at your legs in a subtle tease before pulling down your thong with his teeth, eyes zeroed in on your reaction. Just by the way your chest heaves and your legs subconsciously widen is proof enough that you’re enjoying what he’s doing.

Your core glistens for him and he wants so badly to dive into your wet folds, but he always wants to tease you. If it’s for a minute or more depends on his mood. He’s feeling giving and generous, so he won’t tease you too much but just work you up until you’re antsy. He kneels down, eyesight perfectly level with one of his favorite sights: you, wet and begging. He lays kisses up your legs, nipping tenderly at the stretch marks on your inner thighs. You reach down and intertwine your fingers with his, your ring biting at his skin, a reminder of your future. Continuing on his path upward, he purses his lips and blows a cool stream of air on your wetness, eyes darkening at your whimpers. He lets a small laugh pass through his lips and presses a sweet kiss just below your belly button.

“Do something, please,” you beg, squeezing his hand.

“Do what?” He acts innocent, but you know he’s just trying to get you to voice your needs.

“Eat me out or fuck me. Just do something,” you whine, a low scream falling from your lips as he leans up to mouth at your neck. His clothed cock rubs against your pussy, sending tingles throughout your entire body.

“You’re sexy when you’re bossy,” he whispers in your ear, sending you into a frenzy of sexual tension that’s dying to be resolved.

“If you don’t do anything, I’ll just get myself off,” you sass, closing your legs just a bit.

Mat stops you before you can close them all the way, his fingers opening you up so he can spit on your clit. The feral urge you have for him increases just by the action alone. You lift up your hips, but he quickly pins them down. Your annoyed huff turns into an airy moan when his thick fingers spreading your wetness around your fluttering hole. He delicately kisses around your mound, pressing a loving kiss to your clit.

The few deep breaths you take don’t prepare you for the way pleasure engulfs your body when Mat wraps his lips around your clit. His tongue nudges it while his lips continuously suction around the bud. You tug at your own hair, feeling your mind grow fuzzy when you hear his obscene moans. The vibration feels even better.

“You like that, baby?” He speaks his words into the apex of your thighs.

You numbly nod your head, already high on the overwhelming bliss that comes from his mouth alone.

“Words, baby,” he trades his lips for his finger tip, softly massaging slow circles into your bundle of nerves.

“I love it so much. It feels so good,” you comply albeit being breathless.

Every rational thought flees your head when he starts tracing his name with the tip of his tongue, sending you on a hazy spiral towards your orgasm.

“Fuck, baby. I’m yours,” you chant, knowing he was staking his claim even though he doesn’t need to.

You don’t even realize him pulling away until he’s pushing your tank top further up your chest, unveiling your boobs. He loves when you’re braless. He licks his lips, leaving sucking kisses all up your torso. For a quick moment you snap out of your daze, remembering your new tattoo that your fiancé still doesn’t know about. Luckily, he doesn’t pull your top off all the way.

“Is my pretty girl still sensitive?” He knows damn well your boobs are still sensitive from breastfeeding for 7 months.

You whisper a yes, but it’s quickly replaced with a cry as he softly sucks them into his mouth. It doesn’t last long because you’re still producing milk, so he decides to suck on the flesh surrounding your nipples. No low cut tops are in your future unless you want people to witness the craving Mat’s mouth had. You will definitely be looking like a cheetah after he’s done with you.

You lift your hips up into him, begging for friction, but also distracting him from eventually making his way to your tattoo. You didn’t want him to see it just yet.

He spreads your folds open again, not holding back and he immediately starts lapping up your arousal. The slurping noises fill your ears and his ravenous moans make you even wetter.

“You taste so good, pretty girl. I can eat your pretty pussy all day,” he praises, voice sweet and thick like honey.

“I love you,” you reply.

“I love you.” His words are followed by his tongue entering your weeping hole.

Your body arches off the pool table, screams and moan ripping from your throat as he fucks you with his tongue. Again, your hips lift up, but this time Mat doesn’t press them down. He holds up your lower body, burying his face in your pussy.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby. Please don’t stop.”

The vibrations from his moans and grunts make your brain short circuit, the mind numbing sensation has you in its palm.

You reach down, a hand back in his hair and the other planted on his upper back. The cold metal of your ring feels nice against his warm skin.

“I’m going to cum,” you whine, your cunt clenching down on his tongue.

“Not yet.”

“Please,” it comes out in a gasp, Mat’s thick fingers sinking into your pussy.

His fingers move slowly in a come hither motion, dragging out your pleasure and making you wait until you can let that knot in your stomach snap. His tongue flattens against your clit, his face moving side to side to continuously apply friction.

“Maty, please. I can’t do it. I need to cum, please,” you beg, legs closing around Mat’s head.

“I need you to hold it baby,” he whispers against your soaking cunt.

“I can’t. I can’t,” your body is trembling and you’re trying to steady yourself, but it feels too good. Your orgasm is on the brink of destruction.

He sets you down, one hand pressing into your lower abdomen while his fingers fuck up into you. Throwing your head back, both your arms reach out to grip onto something. Tears stream down your face, but you’ve never felt more alive.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess,” he finally gives you the green light.

Everything goes blurry, the pressure in your stomach releases and you feel liquid squirt out of you, and the state of euphoria your body is in is unexplainable. Mat’s fingers work you through your orgasm with slow strokes but still enough to make you twitch.

“You’re so beautiful, my love. I didn’t know you could squirt like that,” he muses, pecking your thighs.

You whimper when he pulls his fingers out. It’s erotic the way your release drips down his hand. For a moment, you think he’ll lick it up, but you’re proven wrong when he gets you to sit up. He guides his fingers to your mouth and you willingly suck on them, moaning at the taste of yourself. Your eyes peer into his eyes, hooded and dark, they reel him in. Out are his fingers, and his lips press to yours. Salacious moans pass between your mouths when he sucks on your tongue. He’ll never get tired of your taste.

“I love you,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, nipping and pulling at your bottom one.

You smile dazedly at him, feeling sleepy and cuddly in his arms.

“Come on, baby. Let me take you upstairs and get you in a bath,” he coos, rubbing at your back.

“In one minute. I want to stay here in your arms for a little while. I missed you today,” you kiss his chin and the side of his jaw.

“Nols and I did, too,” he says.

“Tomorrow we cuddle in bed all day,” you state.

“Whatever you want. Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. I love you,” he tells you.

You look over at the clock hanging on the wall and realize it’s well past midnight.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby daddy. I love you so much,” you kiss him once more.

“I actually have a small surprise for you,” you whisper into his mouth.

“What’s that, pretty girl?” He looks at you expectantly.

You pull your tank top over your head with one hand, so the other can still cover up your tattoo. Slowly, you move your hand away to finally show off the ‘13.’

“Holy shit. No way, babe. That’s hot,” Mat gasps, reaching out to touch it.

“Just for you, baby,” you softly whimper, your skin still sore from the incessant needle.

He looks at you with such tender love and feral, sexual desire. You can feel the tension fill the room again, your cunt begging for him and his cock straining against his basketball shorts. You’re both in for a long night.

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day my lovelies! I hope you know you’re loved so much🫶 I hope you all enjoy!

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