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1800jjbarnes · 7 months

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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇

Prove It

【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?

『W.C』 : 3.10k

-> Genre: College Au. Smut. Poly.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Stark!Reader

[Warnings] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

You couldn’t recall the time, but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person, and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it, and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room, and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;

“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Bucky's whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Bucky sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Steve…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”

“We could always just, ask.” Steve sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Bucky throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.

“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Bucky tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.

“Ask who?” You responded, making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Bucky suddenly sat up straight while Steve reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird, or was it just your imagination?

“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Steve was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time, out of all your brother's friends, Steve and Bucky were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘Tony's Little Sister’.

“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that, they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.

“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Bucky diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well, ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him. Oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Buck or Steve. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand, and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react, but now you wished you never took that advice from her.

“Ex. He, uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself, feeling blush, scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Steve raised his eyebrow while Bucky clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours, and it made you squirm.

“And?” Steve had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.

“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”

It stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Steve's laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay. We all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Steve tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better, but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Bucky and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned, pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“No, he was pathetic, if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing, and they both couldn’t help but groan at you, basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Steve and Bucky both seem to become tense, stealing glances at one another.

“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Bucky chuckled lewdly making Steve laugh in response but you snapped instead;

“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.

“I can prove it.” Bucky's words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?

“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.

“Yeah I’ll prove it. Come here.” He smirked, patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life, but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

His voice was stern, and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up, you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap, spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot, and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong, Darling?”

You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Steve had taken a seat next to you and Bucky. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Bucky placed his fingers against your chin, making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine, and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Dollface?”

You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly, but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Bucky and him touching you. So without another moment, Buck brought his fingers to your inner thigh, hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was, but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “James.”

“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.

“Hey, I wanna try.” Steve's deep voice tickled your ear, making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”

Steve's fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Buck's dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Steve take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “S-Stevie pleasee.”

“Oh, Sugar, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled, making Bucky lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Steve slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Bucky got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them, but Steve's strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Bucky having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Steve wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.

Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.

“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Steve grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Bucky took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Buckkyy. S-Stev―” Steve suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Bucky slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Steve's fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Bucky's tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.

“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now, do we.” Steve's deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, and you needed more. You tried to speak, but your mouth was covered tightly. Bucky continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Steve had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.

“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Bucky's fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate, made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Steve and Bucky were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Bucky's face. Your tears stained Steve's hand while your nose began to drool. Once Buck helped you lessen your high, he sat up, taking a look at the mess you made.

“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Steve's lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Steve finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once, and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.

“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.

“Fuck Sugar. You okay?” Ste e tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”

You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain, so instead, you kissed him. Steve's eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face, he deepened the kiss, making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Bucky who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he placed his fingers on your chin.

The kiss was desperate and rough. Bucky's fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it, making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Steve. Now, saying Steev was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Bucky, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Steve kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.

“Hey, punk if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Steve said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Bucky pulled away making you chase his lips.

“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Steve rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Steve cupped your breasts, squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Bucky's form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Steve's hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Steve’s assault.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”

You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly, they were right. You had no clue how long you’d been at this, and if your brother were to wake up, there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Bucky, putting them back on while Steve helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy, and your legs were on godly wobbly, but Steve's hard, strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Bucky, seeing a sweeter, less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Steve stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Bucky gave you a long, drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Steve, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Steve pulled away, you looked back at Bucky, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;

“Don’t worry Doll. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”

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ja3honey · 7 months

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐇𝐰𝐚 ♡

Prove It

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 3.10k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: College Au. Smut

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Mingi x Seonghwa x Choi!Reader [FWB?]

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.

Thank you, @sisterofsomeone, for requesting Mingi and Seonghwa for this day. ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

You couldn’t recall the time but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;

“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Seonghwa’s whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Hwa sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Mingi…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”

“We could always just, ask.” Mingi sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Seonghwa throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.

“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Hwa tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.

“Ask who?” You responded making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Seonghwa suddenly sat up straight while Mingi reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird or was it just your imagination?

“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Mingi was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time out of all your brother's friends, Mingi and Hwa were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘San’s Little Sister’.

“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.

“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Seonghwa diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him, oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Hwa or Mingi. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react but now you wished you never took that advice from her.

“Ex. He uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself feeling blush scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Mingi raised his eyebrow, while Hwa clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours and it made you squirm.

“And?” Mingi had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.

It stayed silent for a moment making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Mingi’s laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay we all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Mingi tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Seonghwa and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“No, he was pathetic if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing and they both couldn’t help but groan at you basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Mingi and Hwa both seemed to become tense, stealing glances at one another.

“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Seonghwa chuckled lewdly making Mingi laugh in response but you snapped instead;

“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.

“I can prove it.” Seong’s words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?

“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.

“Yeah I’ll prove it, come here.” He smirked patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to asked you again.”

His voice was stern and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong Darling?”

You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Mingi had taken a seat next to you and Hwa. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Seonghwa placed his fingers against your chin making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Darling?”

You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Seonghwa, and him touching you. So without another moment, Hwa brought his fingers to your inner thigh hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “Hwa.”

“Hey, I wanna try.” Mingi’s deep voice tickled your ear making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”

Mingi’s fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Hwa’s dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Mingi take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “M-mingi pleasee.”

“Oh, doll I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled making Seonghwa lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Mingi slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Seonghwa got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them but Mingi’s strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Seonghwa having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Mingi wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.

Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.

“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Mingi grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Seonghwa took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hwaaa. M-Ming―” Mingi suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Seonghwa slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Mingi��s fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Seonghwa’s tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.

“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now do we.” Mingi’s deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore and you needed more. You tried to speak but your mouth was covered tightly. Seonghwa continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Mingi had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.

“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Seonghwa’s fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Mingi and Seonghwa were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Seonghwa’s face. Your tears stained Mingi’s hand while your nose began to drool. Once Hwa helped you lessen your high, he sat up taking a look at the mess you made.

“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Mingi’s lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Mingi finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.

“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.

“Fuck doll. You okay?” Mingi tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”

You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain so instead you kissed him. Mingi’s eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face he deepened the kiss making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Seonghwa who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he place his fingers on your chin.

The kiss was desperate and rough. Seonghwa’s fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Mingi. Now, saying Mingi was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Seonghwa, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Mingi kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.

“Hey, Hwa if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Mingi said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Seonghwa pulled away making you chase his lips.

“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Hwa chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Mingi rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Mingi cupped your breasts squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Seonghwa’s form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Mingi’s hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Mingi’s assault.

“Fuck,” Hwa groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”

You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly they were right, you had no clue how long you’d been at this and if your brother were to wake up there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Hwa putting them back on while Mingi helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy and your legs were on godly wobbly but Mingi’s hard strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Hwa seeing a sweeter less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Mingi stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Seonghwa gave you a long drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Mingi, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Mingi pulled away you looked back at Seonghwa, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;

“Don’t worry Bunny. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”

- ♥︎

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junkdrawerfics · 3 months

Note

hello!! i had a request for jasper, if that’s ok? i was thinking about him with an entirely oblivious reader. alice knows they’re meant to be together, and just cannot fathom how reader is this clueless to jasper’s flirting? LMAO esp with that southern charm and the fact that he’s actually talking to someone outside of his family 😭 just know id be blissfully unaware that man’s even interested even if he was breathing down my neck and his family is practically tearing their hair out atp 😭

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: You're oblivious. That's it. And it drives the Cullens (+ Bella) crazy. Jasper has to take a far more direct approach to get through to you.

Word Count: 1846

Note: I hope this works for what you were requesting! It was a fun write, I always like playing with different perspectives and even writing scenes without the reader directly in it.

---

“Anyone would think they’re dating,” Alice sighs in exasperation.

Bella follows the vampire’s gaze, noticing you and Jasper standing close together at your car. You’re gesturing wildly, eyes wide, excitement pouring off of you like usual. And Jasper’s just listening, a soft smile on his lips, one she’s only ever seen when the blond’s with you.

“Most of the school does,” she corrects, shoving her hands in her pockets, “Jessica brings it up all the time and Angela says she had to fight Eric to keep it out of the paper.”

Alice snorts softly, the sound somehow delicate. The humans love gossiping about their family, a fact that is unchanging wherever they go. She’s heard more than a few rumors about the two of you, and Jasper probably has too. You, however, remain blissfully unaware.

In her entire century of life, she had never met someone so completely oblivious.

“Does she know he’s flirting with her?” Bella asks, her brow furrowing as Jasper tucks a strand of hair behind your ear while you just keep talking a mile a minute, totally unphased. You, the girl who gets flustered at the drop of a hat with everything else.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Alice chirps matter-of-factly, “She has no clue that he likes her. It’s kind of sweet. But also maddening.”

“You’ve seen something about them?”

“Of course I have.” She sighs again, shaking her head. “It’s not even that, though! I don’t need a vision to know they’re perfect for each other. They’re both absolutely smitten with each other, but she’s even more oblivious than you.”

“Hey-!”

Jasper chuckles under his breath. You pause, head tilting as you follow his flickering gaze to the two girls standing at the other side of the lot. Alice has her hands propped on her hip, a smirk adorning her features as Bella turns impossibly red.

Curiosity washes over you. Eagerly, you whip back to Jasper. “What are they talking about?”

“Bout you and me it seems, and they’re arguin’ about how…observant Bella is,” he murmurs, amusement clear in his tone.

You blink, pursing your lips a little, “They were talking about us?”

“They were just wonderin’ if we are goin’ to the fall festival,” he lies smoothly. Jasper has no desire to expose you to the ugly rumor mill of this town. “What do you say, darlin? Want to go with me?”

“Yes! Yes, I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about that all week!” You squeak, confusion disappearing just like that.

The smile you give him is so bright, so genuine, it could cripple a weaker man. The blond has to bite his tongue, though, the desire to lean down and kiss you pulling at his chest viciously. He wants to see if your smile tastes as sweet as it looks…

“We could see if they want to join us!” You continue, clapping your hands like a little kid. “Maybe that’s why they were talking about us. Oh, it’d be so fun to go as a group!”

The groan from across the parking lot is audible even to you.

---

“Gaaaahhh-”

Your groan gets cut off when you flop onto your bed and land face first in your fluffy comforter. It practically swallows you whole, you almost wish it would.

Bella watches, lips curling in amusement as she gently drops her backpack down and perches herself at your desk, “Jasper again?”

“-e’s su niiithee,” you whine, voice muffled.

“Try again.”

You turn over on your back, pouting at the ceiling, “He’s so nice.”

“He is.” Bella draws her knees up to prop her chin on and waits. The rant is inevitable.

“No, like, he’s so nice. You don’t understand, Bells.” You throw your arms in the air, letting them fall to the bed dramatically. “I’ve never met someone who’s just so nice. And he’s so pretty and charming and sometimes I just wish I could jump on him and hold on like a koala.”

“You could,” she points out, not missing a beat.

Propping up on your elbows, you can’t help but gasp at her, cheeks going positively red, “No I can’t! That would totally freak him out!”

“I think he’d like it more than you think.”

“Oh my gosh.” Your hands fly to your face, as if covering it will stop the blush from spreading down your neck. “You’re so mean to me, Bells. So crude.”

Bella snorts, “That’s not crude. And you’re oblivious.”

“Hello!” You yelp, sitting up. “Kettle calling the pot black!”

“It’s the other way around, actually.”

“Oh whatever,” you sigh, flopping back down. Your thoughts are always a mess when it comes to Jasper, and everyone teasing you like this doesn’t help. It’s easy when you’re with him, you kind of just forget about it all. He’s your best friend, afterall. A frown pulls at your lips. “And I’m not oblivious. We’re just really close friends. I think I’d know if he liked me or something…”

Bella has never been so close to strangling someone.

---

Eventually, a Cullen family meeting has to be held about the issue, despite Jasper’s reluctance.

“She’s clueless,” Bella groans, dropping onto the couch next to Edward.

Emmett snickers from his seat with Rosalie, “I thought we already knew that?”

“We did.” Alice sighs as if she’s mourning the thought. “But we’re afraid it’s worse than we originally thought. The girl is hopeless.”

“She is not,” Jasper chides, lingering on the edge of the group. A part of him doesn’t like having his family in the middle of this. It’s his relationship, or lack thereof. He hates feeling infantilized.

“Hush, Jasper.” Alice waves him off, earning a scowl from the blond. “You’re hopeless in your own ways. This is about (Y/n).”

“So what should we do?”

Jasper forces himself to take a long, calming breath. They mean well, he knows that. They always do. But their methods are usually far too…exaggerated. He might have considered asking for Esme’s advice, perhaps even Carlisle, but not Emmett, and most certainly not Alice. This is his decision to make, and he needs to go about it in his own way.

“Oh! Maybe we can hire someone-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupts, cutting off whatever wild plan Emmett has concocted, drawing the family’s attention to himself. Jasper straightens up, giving them all a pointed look, “This is my business, and I will be taking care of it as I see fit. Thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary.”

“What are you going to do, honey?” Esme speaks her first words of the evening, voice gentle and unassuming as always.

The blond softens, giving her a faint smile, “I’ll be straight with her.”

“But-”

“Stay out of it, Alice.” The little ravenette pouts, though her eyes dance with excitement. A little push was all he needed, it seems. “It won’t do me any good if she learns of my feelings from one of you. It needs to be me. Even if I have to lay myself out plain for her to see.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want, son,” Carlisle hums, relieved to take a step back. He wasn’t a fan of this plan from the start.

“It is.”

And it’s true. At one point, it didn’t feel like he had much control of his life, but now he does. And now he has you. It may just be a ‘matter of time’ thing, according to Alice’s vision, but he wants to do this right, at his own pace.

Now, it’s just a question of how.

---

“Darlin…can we talk?”

“We are talking,” you giggle, writing down another formula.

“I mean a more serious talk.”

You blink, looking up from your chem textbook to meet a pair of nervous, gold eyes. Nervous? Jasper is nervous? Your brows furrow, concern immediately sparking in your chest.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, notes forgotten and thrown to the side. You can always study later. “What’s up, Jasper?”

“Everythin’s alright, just-” Jasper settles on the bed in front of you. He keeps a respectable distance, but reaches across to take your hand in his. You freeze. Eyes wide, you can’t stop yourself from staring at it. Your hands. Together. He’s holding your hand. Why is he holding your hand?

“Darlin?”

“Huh?” Oh right. You drag your gaze back up to him, catching a flicker of an amused smile on his lips. A blush creeps up your neck and you smile apologetically. “Sorry, sorry, um, what’s up?”

“I have something important to tell you,” he explains, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that is far too distracting.

It helps calm your racing heart, though, because a part of you is terrified. You have no clue what he could possibly want to talk about that would warrant such seriousness. Unconscious, you end up holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“I like you, darlin.”

What?

You pause. Process. Confusion swirls through your concern.

“I like you too, Jazz, you’re my best friend,” you chime, tone completely lost and befuddled.

An incredulous laugh breaks past Jasper’s wall of nerves. The tension drips from his shoulders. It’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that he feels like he can finally say everything he’s ever wanted to say.

“I’m ‘fraid you don’t understand, darlin,” he hums, giving you one of those gorgeous, slanted grins that make your heart melt. And the way you cock your head at him, eyes doe-ish and soft, does the exact same thing to him. “I want to take you on a date. I want to open doors for you and walk you to your porch afterwards. Maybe give you a goodnight kiss and watch you go inside. You drive me mad, darlin. I like you so much, it’s taking everythin’ in me not to kiss you right now.”

What?

Your head spins. It’s difficult to even process what he’s saying, everything swimming through your head at a dizzying pace. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“You-” You falter, “You want to- to what?”

Finally.

Jasper smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip erratically, “I want to kiss you sugar. And trust me, it is mighty hard to control myself.”

“Okay um…” You scream silently in your head. Jasper wants to kiss you. Jasper likes you. He likes you. And you like him. “So, you- okay, I have no clue what to do now. I like you too, a lot. Which you probably knew. Wow. I can’t believe I didn’t…”

“Everyone tried tellin’ you,” Jasper chuckles, leaning back.

“I know! I just, I thought they were all teasing me, you know? Cause I like you,” you explain lamely, pouting a bit in disbelief. All this time, you could have just told him! “I just can’t believe how oblivious I was.”

“Trust me, darlin, none of us can. I have one more question for you, though.”

“What?”

“Will you give me the great pleasure of takin’ you on a date?”

You bite your lip, but it does nothing to stop the smile from spreading across them.

“Of course!”

---

I hope you guys liked this one! It was a fun one, though it took me a while!

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight saga #twilight #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper x reader #you're so oblivious it hurts #oblivious reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Note

It's Valentine day, and some fan service when Crewel daughter lost a bet and wearing a bunny outfit that hugs her curvs bit too well ( think of Jessica Rabbit level of sexy ) and all confident of her body as she sings on stage for them

All the boys reaction seeing both display and the show

I'm not doing all of them

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Valentines Performance | Yandere TWST x Crewel Daughter Reader

First and foremost Crewel’s daughter never loses a bet

But charity does look good on her record so she’d do it

Heck you might even suggest it

“What? I know from my head to my toes that I’m practically irresistible. Of course you’d want me to be the main performance.”

You wouldn’t do it for just some boys wishing to ogle you for their own desires

That would be of no benefit to you

In fact, you’d force Crowley to pay

Who in turn forces your admirers to cough up a significant amount

But if you’re going to go through the trouble of dressing up and performing it will be for a good cause and for a good paycheck

So many lonely, sad people on such a day is something a princess shouldn’t ignore

If you have curves than great but even without you’re just as alluring

But like everything you do it has the boys drooling:

Azul Ashengrotto

He was proud to be apart of the latest cashgrab charity that the school was fundraising

And he was even happier to call upon you under that pretense

Its been years since he’s heard you sing

He can only imagine what its like now

And with the excuse of being practice he’ll hear the chords you so casually ring out as the charity dinner is mapped out

But only when you’re fully made up and singing does he feel like his investment was truly worth it

“A-a-ah (Y/n) that was–”

“Amazing, I know. I can tell you’re excited but don’t go inking all over the floor before the finale.”

“Y-yeah.”

He really does have to stop himself

He’s just so enamored

One day he’ll have to ask trick you into singing a serenade to him

“A mate’s song needs to be, at the very least, decent enough to attract. Naturally, (Y/n) would exceed that, she truly is a prime mate and the only one I’d ever bother chasing after.”

Kalim Al Asim

He loves that you’re scheduled to perform

Money isn’t an object anyway so he’s happy to pad your paycheck and donation

He just loves loves loves anything you do

You could go outside in a chicken wunzie and sing horribly he’d still fling his money in your direction

But as he watches you appear on stage make up done, dress hugging tight something burns

His cheeks get warm and suddenly his clothes feel too hot to wear

A yearning that Kalim barely acknowledges to dangerous takes over and he’s in a daze for the entirety of the night

Don’t interrupt the performance

Don’t bother him while he’s watching you sing in that sultry tone

Or you can see what its like when Jamil’s happy to follow Kalim’s orders+

“(Y/n) you should sing more often! Your voice is so beautiful!”

“Thank you, Kalim.”

“Will you be doing another set? I’d love to play along side you!”

He’ll be replaying your performance in his head for years to come

Always letting a smile come to his face

“Wow I can’t get her voice out of my head! Maybe I should ask her to sing to me everynight!”

Vil Schoenheit

If he isn’t hired himself to join you he’ll donate his talent with a small fee

But to be seen by millions as the most beautiful dream couple

Neige could never

But ego aside he loves nothing more than performing with you side by side

Brought back to the days you two would make little plays and shows for your fathers to watch

Now this was just fate in work, wasn’t it

That you two would be preparing a duet that’d have the world talking for weeks

“Are you ready to delivery our harmony of ecstasy?”

“You know I am. I like your trim by the way.”

“And I yours. Though we both know anything you wear is better than couture.”

For this moment and this moment only will he encourage the hunter to share his recordings

He won’t be able to hear your voice out in the crowd

But it couldn’t compare to the sound of being beside you

As it was always meant to be

“Becoming a duo? Who’s to say? We both have big plans for the future but naturally we’ll be together asitsalwaysbeen.”

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cosmal · 1 year

Note

AYO CONGRATS ON 3K!! love ur blog and ur writing and u immensely.

(tbh i have this irrational fear of making requests even if people are like "make a request pls" but i saw ur post and literally u don't have to tell me twice. for future reference blink twice if u want to hear every single thought of mine ever.)

spacey jane: james potter + you're here, that's the thing by beabadoobee

"i've got you wrapped around my finger like a piece of ribbon, you just won't admit it that you're smitten"

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 — 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

thank you thank you!!!! please omg request whatever yo whenever you want. i love all requests i get and appreciate them so so much. omg.

summary — james let’s you take him home when he’s drunk. james’s friends think he’s whipped.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, drunk!james

You can hear him before you see him. It’s not out of the ordinary for him to be loud, you know that too well. You follow the noise from the front door all the way to the sitting room.

You’re not sure what you and James are. He’s not your boyfriend. But, he calls you sweetheart and he kisses your cheek sometimes when you want him to. He invites you places with his friends but spends the entire time with you. He gets you flowers, not ones from the florist on his street, ones he finds when he walks to your house that he says remind him of you. He visits you with lunch during your breaks when you’re studying. He gets two of the same, but no meat in yours because he knows you don’t eat it. And sits and eats with you, listening to everything you have to say about how school is going.

But despite those things, he’s not your boyfriend.

But when he sees you for the first time tonight, and his face lights up more than you’d hoped it would because you’re really trying not to get ahead of yourself, you sort of wish he was your boyfriend.

“Y/N!” he cheers, still loud. Still very hearty.

“Hey,” you smile. You try to direct it around the room. You really like his friends and you don’t want to play favourite. Even though you’re definitely softer on him than the others. You’ve never kissed Remus on the cheek because you fancy him.

You sit on the arm of the sofa he’s at and try not to act too affected when he sets his hand on your thigh. His palm flush with the hem of your shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. It’s more of a slur. Words sticky with intoxication. His face is flushed and you fight the urge to press your fingers into his warm skin.

“I’m your lift,” you remind him. Like you hadn’t spoke on the phone no less than an hour ago.

“Y/N!” he’d yelled down the line. “Y/N, could you pick me up tonight?”

“Yeah, of course, James.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I owe you one.”

You didn’t have the guts to say it, but you’d do anything for him if he asked.

“Oh, right,” he laughs, attention turned back to the plastic cup in his hands. He swigs whatever’s in it. “We’re playing strip poker.”

Everyone’s still clothed. You think maybe they haven’t started yet.

“Wanna play?” Sirius asks, shuffling a deck of cards. He looks almost as drunk as James. Remus and Emmeline look like they’re on their way to join them.

“Shut the fuck up, Pads,” James groans. He might be blushing. You might also be imagining it.

“What?” he snorts.

“She doesn’t want to play.” James sits up in his chair, sniffing, he adds, “neither do I, really.”

“It was your idea!”

“Whatever.”

You don’t want to play. If James Potter were to ever see you naked, you don’t want it to be with his friends as well.

James sips from his drink again to occupy his mouth. If you weren’t here, he might’ve said what he really wanted to say to Sirius. Something he usually does when it’s just the two of them.

He spills the majority of his drink down the front of his lovely red shirt. You take it from his hands, wiping the mess from his cheeks. James sits and lets you do it with no problems.

“Can we do shots?” Sirius asks. You glare at James’s friend. A look that reads your friend is off his face and you want to do shots?

“Yes!” James cheers through a hiccup. You stable a hand on his back.

While Sirius gets up to go find shot glasses, you lean down to whisper into James’s ear. “Do you want to go home?”

James stops splashing around his drink in his cup to look at you. “Maybe,” he says, blinking slowly. You think it’s quite adorable. “Do you?”

“Only if you do.”

“I am feeling a bit sick.”

And he wanted to do shots. “Yeah?” you ask, squeezing his shoulder. “You can stay at mine if you want.” You only suggest it because you live close by.

James grins. “Can I do a shot first?”

“I don’t think so, baby.” You run a knuckle over his flushed cheek. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.”

You don’t mean to be that girl that steals the boy they’re talking to away from a party. But you think if he drinks anything else he might be sick. He needs water and a bed.

When Sirius gets back you’re helping James from the sofa, hand held through his. He wobbles and you stable him with a hand behind his back.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Sirius asks.

“Home,” James tells him. “Well, not really. I’m going to Y/N’s house.”

“As if. It’s 9pm on a Friday.”

“Sirius, fuck up,” James argues. “I’m going to a girls house and you’re gonna get over it.”

“You’re drunk, Y/N won’t touch you.”

You balk. “I’m gonna clean him up and put him to bed.”

James grins boyishly. “She’s gonna put me to bed.”

“God, you’re fucking whipped, mate.” Sirius finds it hard to act incensed over his friends happiness. It’s still fun.

“Shut up. Go finish reading that book Moony told you about.”

Sirius blushes. Grumbling all the way back to his seat. “Moons, my best friend sucks.”

James forgets about the idea of shots as soon as he gets into your car and you keep your hand held in his when you can the entire drive to yours. He won’t let anyone know how much he loves getting doted on by you at your house. He might get drunk a little more often, he thinks, if there’s a chance you’ll wash his face and help him into your bed.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x female!reader #james potter x female reader #james potter drabble #james potter one shot #james potter headcanon #james potter drabbles #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fan fic #marauder x reader #the marauders #the marauders fanfic #the marauders fanfiction

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sturniololoco · 3 months

Text

Can’t Hate You pt 1

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) X Nathan Doe

Warnings: Cussing, hitting, mentions of SA later in the series(and no, it was not Nate), etc.

ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .° ᡣ𐭩

SLS/N’s POV

Today was the day that I was not looking forward to. All week I’ve been dreading this specific Saturday to come, and it’s unfortunately arrived.

Nathan Doe is coming to LA.

He’s my brother’s best friend, so they invited him to come stay a week over the summer.

But, me and Nate have never really gotten along all that well. I know this will sound petty, but something that happened in high school, that you just can’t forgive people for.

“Who’s excited?!?” Chris yells in the car on our way to the airport, putting his hands up in the air. Matt and Nick cheer in delight, having been waiting for this week for a long time.

“Why so his big ass head can get in my way all weekend?” I say sarcastically, sighing then looking out my window.

Nick covers his mouth as he laughs at my snarky remark. Matt shakes his head while looking at the road.

But Chris turns to me and says.

“SLS/N, I know you two don’t get a long very well, but at least try this week.” He says, giving me a pleading look.

I glance at him for a brief second before looking out the window again, not responding. He sighs before saying,

“please sis? For me?”

I look back to see him giving puppy eyes. I roll my own before muttering a soft fine before we pulled up at the airport.

Nick and I stayed behind, filming Matt and Chris practically skipping through the airport corridors when they saw Nate.

“His head is still just as big as I remember,” I say to Nick and the camera he held for Wednesday's vlog.

Nick laughs out loud, shuts the camera off, then walks over to greet Nate. He gives him a side hug once he manages to pry off my other two brothers.

Instead of giving him a hug, instead of saying hello, instead of making eye contact with him at all, I stand behind Nick, looking at the ground, wishing this would hurry up so I could go home.

"SLS/N," he says sternly, nodding in my direction.

I gave him a tight-lipped smile, making eye contact for about half a second, then went back to looking at the ground.

"Wow. awkward!" Matt says, Nate just rolls his eyes and plays it off. I however began walking to the car.

I sit in the way back of the van, both headphones in, drowning out the boy's conversation. Nick and Nate were in the back while Matt and Chris were in their usual seats.

Around 15 minutes later, I felt a sharp tap on the side of my leg. I look up to see Nate reaching back behind the seats to get my attention. I pull one headphone out.

"We're stopping at McDonalds, what do you want to eat?" He asks, looking annoyed.

"Don't fucking touch me," I say, hating the fact that he feels like he could touch me.

Not after what he did.

"Don't be a child, SLS/N. Just use your words and tell your brother what you want." He says, using a sarcastic baby voice near the end.

I roll my eyes and mumble a quiet,

"I'm not hungry."

Nick rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, then rolls his window down to order.

The boys were filming the rest of their vlog while they ate, but I decided not to. I stayed in my room, scrolling through my Instagram.

There was a soft knock on my door.

After saying come in, I'm met with the eyes of Nate. He tosses a 6 piece chicken nugget box into my lap, then sets a small tea on my night stand.

My favorite.

"I said I wasn't hungry." I lie, turning my nose up at the food. I secretly wanted to crush 10 boxes of them, but he didn't need to know.

"You need to eat." He says walking back towards the door.

He goes to close the door but opens it a crack, saying,

"I better not see any of those in the trash can."

He then walks out leaving me alone with a box of chicken nuggets, a sweet tea, and a blushing face.

Why am I blushing? Why did he care if I ate or not? How did he know my order?

All of these thoughts only make my face redder, causing me to get frustrated.

He doesn't care about you. Not anymore.

I lay back into my pillows, taking a sip of sweet tea, trying not to think about the boy who just walked out of the room.

Guys, it gets juicy I swear! The intro is always the most boring part. But I think y'all r gonna love this one.

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo sister x reader #sturniolo sister #nathan doe x reader #nathan doe #nathan doe smut

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mvltisstuff · 6 months

Note

hi!! omg so would you ever mind doing a one-shot where buck is like capital W Wasted and is flirting with reader (but reader has always had a crush on him) so when he complements them they’re all like “buck, you’re being mean.” and he’s all offended and confesses everything but the reader isn’t too sure how real it is?

you can 100% control the ending, your vision is so *chefs kiss*

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH !

i wish you were sober - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif

a/n: i’m so sorry this is like weeks late, but i hope it’s enjoyed regardless. 🫶

as if she were a high school freshman seeing the QB of varsity football that she never, ever had a chance with, y/n’s heart would dangerously speed up whenever buck walked into the room. let alone when he did anything. if he brushed past her, or if he placed a hand on her shoulder, it left y/n begging to not be left crumbling on the floor. she could tell buck knew, too, but both their egos stood in the way. y/n was just too embarrassed to let the words come out of his mouth, and buck figured he would ruin anything between them. so, he left it where it was. he didn’t touch her or try to turn a new light on.

he did, however, know how to drink, and he knew it all too well.

he’s not an alcoholic, but he knows how to have a good time with the right amount of shots and continuously ordering more drinks for everyone. everyone watched his intake get bigger and more, but they didn’t both to stop him. if buck wants to have a good time and let loose by drinking, they just have to let him or even join him.

usually, y/n has no problem ordering her cocktail and sitting at the bar with her coworkers. but recently, it’s all be off like a glitch in the system. nothing has been the same since she noticed the pounding in her chest and the screaming in her mind whenever buck walked into the room. seriously, it was becoming a problem. she needed to cool it down, and she was scared of what might happen if she let her courage be defined by liquor.

“can someone tell y/n to drink, please? i can’t stand to see her wallowing in the corner.” chimney asks, dipping his chip into the salsa before shoving it into his mouth.

“don’t act like you wouldn’t be prying the glass out of my hands. besides, i barely got the drinking memo, i just wanted to go home!”

“what’s got you all moody?” eddie teases.

“i’m not moody,” y/n grumbles, taking a sip of the drink she surely doesn’t want, but the tipsy buck had ordered it for her. eddie turns around, shaking his head and getting up to grab another beer from the counter. “where is buck, anyway?”

“he kinda ran off somewhere, we think he’s trying to get his friend who works here a discount because he knows him.” chimney tells y/n, nodding off to whichever direction buck might have went in.

y/n’s always happier when bucks around, whether she wants to admit it or not. he’s like a bug, clinging to you but in the best was possible, a way that makes you want him to never go away. the buzz in your ear is never obnoxious, and he somehow manages to make you feel so much lighter in the world.

but, tonight, y/n’s not sure if she wants him around. she doesn’t want to watch his relentless charm go over everyone in the bar, knowing that he’ll never want her the same way. it’s getting exhausting, watching girls hang off of him knowing that buck will never be y/n’s.

still, buck manages to find his firefly, his closest friend (he won’t admit that it’s more).

he swoops into her conversation and tries to bring his usual brightness back, but she just seems frustrated with him. the air between them feels tense and as if y/n fears him, or resents him. she can’t let herself go around him anymore.

“y/nnnn!” buck drags out, leaning on his hand which rests on the shiny bar.

“what, buck?” she turns her head, only the corner of her mouth lifting up to play along with his antics.

“come on, i think i deserve a whole smile, huh? we both know how pretty it is.”

“what?” she stumbles over her words, unable to figure out why he’s suddenly doing this.

“i love making you laugh, y/n, because i just get to see your cute face light up.”

“buck, what are you talking about-“ y/n laughs, but she’s silently letting her heart crack more at every word he says. she can’t handle him saying this and then leaving it to be false reality. he keeps going. he doesn’t stop. the compliments are consistent, and normally they’d be appreciated.

tonight is different.

tonight, y/n doesn’t feel like listening to buck make up fake things to say about her. she doesn’t feel like listening to things that he’ll forget about in the morning. things that mean the world to her, but nothing to him.

she finds herself sneakily lurking outside the bar, her coat on and the light wind biting at her nose. LA doesn’t normally get too cold, but the chilliness in the air is making her rub her hands together anxiously for warmth. she dials through her phone, searching for her uber app in any way to get home.

“you think you’re sneaky? why you leaving?” buck hiccups, his thick soles crunching the pebbles beneath his feet.

“i’m going home, buck. i’m not playing this game tonight.”

“what game? we can play games, we can play pool!”

“you barely have enough coordination to stand here, i doubt you can play pool.”

“alright, well, goodnight to you, too. what did they put in your drink?”

“have you ever thought that you’re the problem?”

“oh, way too often, pretty girl,”

“stop,” she whispers.

“why?”

“don’t say that. that’s just mean, buck.”

“what’s mean? the fact that i love you or the fact that we’re standing out here in the cold when we could be having fun inside?”

“buck, enough.”

“i’ll say it again, i love you! i don’t know who else has to hear it for you to listen to me!”

“stop saying that! you’re the one playing a fucking game with me. you’re saying all this to flatter me and then tomorrow, you’re gonna wake up as if nothing happened. you’re gonna remember the shots you took, not the words you threw at me.”

his drunken eyes start to fall, looking deadly as he stares y/n in the eye. “but what if i mean it?” he says, his voice having a tinge of sadness to it.

“i don’t believe you.”

“you should.”

“well, that doesn’t fix everything, buck. if you really love me, tell me when you’re sober.”

she turns on her heel with her freezing hands in her pockets, and the image of her genuinely angelic face fades out of sight. the only thing that buck is left with is the sounds of car tires crunch against the cold concrete and a decision to make.

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sugawarassoulmate · 2 years

Text

and i can be needy, way too damn needy

“oh, didn’t like what i had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “both of them feel that way, you know. they only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. you think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

atsumu too? no, that couldn’t be true. he’s always been your best friend. yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. surely all of that had been genuine?

“that’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. this doesn’t feel the same as when osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. this is uncharted territory. never has anyone else been so callous towards you. usually because one of the boys was there to step in—atsumu to offer a kind word and osamu to throw a punch or two.

but maybe that was the problem. maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

this really wasn't meant to turn into anything! i've had this doc sitting on my computer for months thinking nothing was gonna come from it, but you guys really liked the snippet i shared so here it is.

if you were expecting a big confrontation between osamu's girlfriend and reader, sorry! my crybaby doesn't play that way but she does get her comeuppance 👀

also there wasn't going to be any smut in this fic but.......osamu's hot LOL

words: 3.8k

cw: fem!reader, insecurity, name-calling, fingering, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity mention, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/ just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

You walked into the kitchen expecting to see Osamu with his head in the fridge as usual. Instead, you found something worse, his girlfriend leaning on the counter. A scowl on her face as soon as she locks eyes with you. It’s the first time you’ve ever been alone with her, without Osamu there to make a mean comment at your expense that makes her laugh sweetly, “Baby, you’re being so rude!” she’d say in her shrill voice.

But there’s none of that in her face at the moment. She crosses her arms, eyebrows furrowed as she gets a good look at you. “Of course, you’re here too,” she says, attempting to grumble under her breath but it’s definitely loud enough for you to hear.

You don’t really want to know what she meant, mumbling an apology in her direction before trying to shuffle past her to the stairs. She’s quicker than you, though, blocking your path and almost tripping you in the process. “What the hell are you doing here?” She gets in your face, demanding an answer. It’s only when she’s so close that you take in how pretty she actually is: full, pouty lips, a high arch in her eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, a straight nose.

She didn’t look like the kind of girl Osamu dated, but you figured that wasn’t a fair assumption for you to make. You didn’t really know what kind of girls Osamu liked. Whenever his brother brought the topic up, it usually ended with a punch to the gut.

“Atsumu and I have plans,” you said, hoping she’d leave you alone. She purses her lips, seemingly not satisfied with your response. “Could you—”

“Do you not have friends of your own? You’re always tagging along with the twins, aren’t you embarrassed?” her features twist into a smile, one of ridicule. You’re not sure how to respond, mouth clamping up as you hope for someone to come downstairs and save you. But you’re not that lucky and your silence only pisses her off even more. “Not even going to defend yourself? Samu’s right, you’re hopeless!”

Hopeless? Had Osamu said that about you? He’s said worse things to your face, sure, but never once did you think he spoke about you behind your back. Did he talk about you to her? Complain about you? Of course, you weren’t his favorite person in the world but did he actually feel that way?

You could feel your stomach churning, a bitter taste bubbling in the back of your throat. You had to get out of there, but your legs wouldn’t move. “Oh, didn’t like what I had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “Both of them feel that way, you know. They only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”

Atsumu too? No, that couldn’t be true. He’s always been your best friend. Yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but Atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. Surely all of that had been genuine?

“That’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. This doesn’t feel the same as when Osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. This is uncharted territory. Never has anyone else been so callous towards you. Usually because one of the boys was there to step in—Atsumu to offer a kind word and Osamu to throw a punch or two.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.

“Please, do you think they’d say it to your face? To the crybaby that lives next door? They don’t want to hurt your feelings but someone needs to give you a reality check.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap back, feeling the tightness in your chest. Even when Osamu was giving you his worst, he never made you feel so small.

She laughs humorlessly, taking a step forward into your personal space and leaning down. It feels so humiliating. “I know enough,” she claims. “Every time I’m with my boyfriend, he never shuts up about you. What makes you so damn special? Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own.”

You wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. That you knew more about the twins than she did, but all the energy you had left disappeared. And, in turn, her words started playing in your head over and over. Maybe it was true. Maybe your friendship with the twins had run its course—or rather your friendship with one of them did. Osamu had never been your friend before, had he?

Right on cue, the tears started running down your face. You could imagine how red and distorted your face had become, your nose becoming runny and mouth growing dry. You’re rushing out of the room before she could say anything else, running towards your house and slamming the door behind you.

It’s only when you’re finally alone that you allow your sobs to get loud, to feel all your insecurities pouring out into the open. And it’s just so pitiful that your first reaction is to run to Atsumu and point out the person who made you feel this way. What’s most surprising is that, for once, it wasn’t his brother who was at fault. Not even Osamu could make you cry this much.

Your phone starts buzzing every few seconds and through tears, you read out the notifications on the screen.

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: did ya get here yet?

From: ☀️tsumu☀️: thought i heard the front door..

You want to reach out to him, to both of them. But you can’t even bother with a reply. Instead, you turn your phone off, and let your tears flow some more.

You’ve never avoided both of the twins before, but you couldn’t face them after that conversation. It was hard at first, having both of the boys blow up your phone for most of the day was pretty normal. The three of you were always together, whether at each other’s houses, going out, or running errands together. If that wasn’t the case, you’d be on the phone with one of them, usually Atsumu, for hours.

But for the first time, you haven’t been giving either of them your attention—you turned off notifications on your phone, started waking up an hour earlier so you wouldn’t have to walk with them, and you told your parents not to answer their calls.

“Did you get into a fight?” your mother had said. “What did Osamu do this time?” But you didn’t really have an explanation, the real story being far more embarrassing than anything else.

At school, it was harder to steer clear of them. You didn’t share many classes but you ended up moving your seat in the few you did, ducking out of the room as soon as the bell rang to avoid having to talk to them. Thankfully, volleyball kept them busy and limited your interactions.

There was one incident in the cafeteria where you nearly broke your-self isolation.

It was easy for Atsumu to find you in a crowded room, locking eyes with you across the cafeteria. The boys were there with Suna and Ginjima talking amongst themselves and being rowdy as usual. Atsumu waved in your direction, beckoning for you to sit with them and you nearly did. Until you saw her cuddled up to Osamu’s side, a disapproving look on her face.

Osamu’s face didn’t look that pleasant either. “Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own…”

Suddenly feeling nauseous, you turned your back on the table. Grabbing your food, you make your way towards the roof and eat there. You could usually be alone up there, without being a bother to anyone else.

“Did Osamu do something to you?” Suna asked one day when you were in the library. It was safe to study there—the boys had been banned in their first year after one too many fights. Suna sat across from you, an unreadable look on his face as he watched you take notes. “You haven’t come to practice in a week.”

You figured there was no use in avoiding him and continued to keep doing work. “Why does everyone think he did something?”

“Something had to have happened. Tweedledee and Tweedledum said you haven’t spoken to them in a while,” he leans back in his chair with his feet up on the table. Even during the worst moments with Osamu, you’d still end up getting dragged to practice somehow. “They’ve been fighting a lot more than usual. Kinda annoying, honestly…”

That didn’t do much to quell your anxiety. It was always nasty when the boys fought but the idea of sitting in the bleachers with her after what she said made you queasy. Maybe it had nothing to do with you. The twins fighting wasn’t out of the ordinary, what made you so special?

“I’m really busy with school, okay?” you motion towards the mess of papers on the table you’re working at. But Suna looks unconvinced, probably thinking back to all the times you’ve either done homework or studied while watching the team practice. “Just don’t tell them that you spoke to me, please?”

One thing you love about Suna is that he doesn’t pry. If you’re not ready to talk about something, he’ll hold off on asking questions. “Fine,” he sighs, getting up. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ve got it figured out. But do something quick, ‘cause I don’t know how much patience Kita has left.”

You can’t explain the uneasiness in your gut while watching Suna leave the room. He was wrong, you didn’t have it figured out. There wasn’t a plan or an end goal in mind. But you couldn’t face the boys just yet. And, honestly, whatever was going on would figure itself out with or without you.

“No, no, no, no…” you groan to yourself fishing through your backpack for the tenth time, hoping your keys would somehow magically appear. There was a torrential downpour outside and your parents weren’t home or answering their phones. Like an idiot, you forgot your keys and certainly didn’t have an umbrella, your soaked uniform sticking to you, your body freezing and shivering.

The only people who had spare keys were the twins and their mother. “For emergencies,” said your own mother so long ago but they were never actually used for emergencies. All too often, the boys would barge into your home for snacks or drinks, but mostly for you. They’d pluck you from your bedroom—it didn’t matter if you were studying or sleeping, really—and drag you back to their house to watch a movie or settle an argument.

You asked your mother to tell them you weren't home or hid out in the library until it was too late for them to show up at your front door. But now, you were royally fucked and were running out of options. “Please be here…” you cried, wishing for your keys to end up in your hand.

“Are ya stupid? Yer gonna catch yer fuckin’ death out here!” It wasn’t hard to figure out who the voice belonged to. Osamu stormed to the front of your house, pissed off as he shoved you under his umbrella. “The fuck ya standin’ here for? Yer practically blue!”

You didn’t have the energy to argue or come up with some excuse to distance yourself from him. Not when your crybaby tears were threatening to come back again. “I don’t have my keys,” you sobbed, feeling cold and pathetic.

Osamu grabs you by the sleeve and hauled you next door to his house, cursing with every wet stomp of his feet. You’re pushed through the front entrance, already forming a puddle on the floor. The shoes by the door let you know their mother isn’t home either.

“Dude! Ya were right behind me, what took ya so long—” Atsumu stops dead in his tracks when he spots you, an unreadable emotion on his face but he’s quick to go into protective mode, running towards you and his brother. “What—”

“She forgot her fuckin’ keys,” Osamu grouches, sticking the umbrella in a stand near the door. He turns to you, looking as if he wants to bite your head off. “Go upstairs and take a hot shower. We’ll get ya clean clothes.”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” her words are in your head again. The twins need to take care of you yet again because you’re too stupid to remember to carry a fucking key. “I just need my—”

“I don’t remember askin’ ya,” Osamu says, pushing you in the direction of their bathroom. “Go.” Your eyes flick to Atsumu but he’s in agreement with his twin. Embarrassed, you start heading upstairs, wishing for all of this to be over.

The boys left clean clothes for you outside the bathroom door after your shower. As expected, the shirt and pajama bottoms were much bigger, completely drowning you. Your wet clothes were thrown in the laundry room to be washed and dried. You’re too nervous to go into the living room and face them, but hiding upstairs would only make the situation worse.

You decide to just rip the band-aid.

Wringing the rest of the water with your towel, you walk in to see the boys talking amongst themselves. They stop when you enter the room, Atsumu looking apologetic as he leaves room on the couch for you to sit. A cup of tea sits on the coffee table, likely made by Osamu and you’re certain his anger would only get worse if you refuse.

It doesn’t take very long for Osamu to start interrogating you as soon as you sit down. “Why the fuck didn’t ya come here sooner?” he stands in front of you and his brother, grey eyes shooting daggers at yours.

“I thought I had them,” you lied, letting the cup warm your still cold hands. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“But why would ya think yer a bother?” This time Atsumu spoke, his hand reaching out to rub your shoulder. You appreciated the extra warmth. “Better yet, where have ya been lately? Ya stopped talkin’ to us out of nowhere.” You don’t miss the way his eyes glance over at Osamu. He probably thinks it’s his fault too.

“You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?” You’re so fed up at this point that her name falls from your mouth before you could stop yourself. Osamu quirks his brow, probably wondering what she has to do with any of this.

So you tell them—You mention all the nasty things she said to you, the cruel looks she’d shoot your way at school, and how you felt too stupid to tell them because a part of you really wondered if it was true. By the time you’re done, there are a few stray tears running down your face that you didn’t notice at first. A frustrated crybaby to the very end, you’re nothing if not consistent.

They’re both angry now, eyes locked with one another. “Did ya know about this?” Atsumu’s tone was accusatory.

“Of course I fuckin’ didn’t, why didn’t ya tell me?” Osamu asked, looking at you, but his brother is quick to come to your defense.

“It doesn’t matter when she told us, what matters is that it was yer girlfriend that said that shit to her.” He snaps, pulling you closer to his frame to soothe you. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu, tongue poking his cheek. “What’re ya gonna do about it, Samu?”

The younger twin rolls his eyes takes a deep breath and walks out the room, choosing not to start a yelling match for once. Once you are alone, Atsumu wraps you in his arms for a hug. “Please don’t disappear like that on us again,” he says, refusing to let go. “I won’t be so nice next time.” You can hear the dumb grin on his face. You’ve missed him, both of them. Atsumu makes sure you finish the rest of your tea before walking off to set up the futon for you—he suggested you spend the night and didn’t take no for an answer.

You’re folding your uniform a few hours later after taking it out of the dryer. It should probably be ironed before you could wear it again but, thankfully, there’s no school tomorrow. While you’re there, you decide to fold the rest of the clean clothes there as well, knowing the boys’ mother would appreciate it.

The sweet silence was broken with Osamu’s heavy steps coming downstairs, screaming into his phone, unaware that you’re also in the room. “I don’t wanna hear it and don’t even think about comin’ here and gettin’ yer shit,” From all the years of knowing him, you’ve never heard his voice get like that. Even when he and Atsumu were fighting and he’s certainly never yelled at you like that.

“Get one of yer stupid friends to pick it up from Atsumu or Suna or I’m throwin’ it the fuck out. I’m blockin’ yer ass after that. Fuck off.” He hangs up without another word and that’s when he catches you kneeling in front of the dryer with piles of folded clothes. His face doesn’t soften as he gets down on your level, eyes scanning your form. “That’s Tsumu’s shirt…”

Staring down at the much too big shirt, you now realize that he’s right. You hadn’t really considered which of their shirts the boys gave since you were more concerned with having warm clothes than anything else. “I just grabbed whatever was there—” Osamu’s quick movements take you by surprise. Next thing you know, he has you pinned to the floor, hovering over you. It rattles you at first, but Osamu’s always been known to push you around whenever he felt like it. “Samu—”

“Don’t keep secrets from me. Ya should’ve told me as soon as she said that shit.” His knee is between your legs and you wonder if his intentions are pure. All of your clothes were soaked from the storm and all Osamu had to do to get to your more intimate parts was wander his hands just slightly underneath your shirt. It had been a while since he did anything like that. Osamu was loyal to the girls he dated. At least you think. So many times he’s trapped you for a quick kiss when nobody else was in the room, it’s possible that you had overlapped with his relationships a few times.

Maybe that’s why she hated you so much.

“If any of that bullshit was true,” Osamu continues, noticing the apprehension on your face. “I wouldn’t put up with yer sensitive ass.”

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled, fingers twisting between the fabric of your shirt. You felt stupid, letting your own insecurities and her words get to your head when you know none of them to be true. With all the years you’ve known them, you should have given the boys more credit. “I missed you.”

Finally, Osamu’s face relaxes. At this point, you wonder if he was actually upset with you this whole time, or with himself since it was his ex-girlfriend who had said caused all this. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s overwhelming, like all his kisses and it feels wrong to be so close just moments after he broke up with her, but it doesn’t stop you from deepening it.

“Such a pretty little crybaby, don’t know why I even bother with anyone else,” his voice is thick while his hands tug at your clothes. “Take this off. I’ll give ya my shirt in a bit, just lemme see ya.”

The sensation of your breasts being exposed to the cold laundry room to Osamu’s warm mouth wrapping itself around your nipple. A sharp whine leaves your lips but you stifle it, remembering that Atsumu is still upstairs. Osamu bites down on the sensitive bud, as one of his hands reaches past the sweats you had on, groaning when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear.

Two of Osamu’s fingers plunge into your cunt without warning. It gets harder and harder to muffle your noises, eyes welling up with tears. “Wanna hear yer pretty noises, dummy. Been hidin’ from me too fuckin’ long. I deserve ‘em,” he growls, biting down hard on your breast just to force a high-pitched cry from you.

You pray that Atsumu is in his room. The thought of anyone seeing you in such a compromising position—half-naked and humping against Osamu’s hand—would be so humiliating but it has you whining and moaning even more.

“Can feel yer pussy clenchin’ around my fingers. Gonna make ya cum on the fuckin’ floor like a slut,” You can hear how wet you are, juices flowing down Osamu’s hand and it’s becoming too much. His thumb circles your clit as his fingers speed up. You pull him in for a kiss, burying your cries into his mouth. “Cum fer me, stupid girl. Missed this pretty pussy, need ya to cum.”

By the time he adds a third finger, you’re already too far gone. With a final, exasperated sob, you cum around Osamu’s hand. He stares, mesmerized by how sensitive your cunt is when he pulls his fingers out, your essence catching the light.

Your brain is too fuzzy to notice Osamu wiping his hand with Atsumu’s shirt, too busy trying to stop your legs from twitching. “Samu…”

“Don’t start yer whinin’, I’ll clean ya up,” he warns, grabbing a clean t-shirt to put on you. It’s one of his, of course. “Much better.”

“Don’t mind her, y/n,” Suna says after following your line of vision. The two of you were sitting at your regular lunch table a few days later when you felt someone staring daggers at you. Sure enough, there was Osamu’s ex looking back. Her usually pretty face now red and puffy. As horrible as she was, you still feel bad.

“Don’t mind who?” Atsumu asks as he and his brother join you after getting their food. Osamu feels your body tense up and is swift to see the reason why. Watching his eyes meet with hers brings back that unpleasant sinking feeling in your stomach for some reason.

But Osamu is quick to look away, an arm wrapping around his waist as he offers you some of his food. You sneak a brief glance back at her, just in time to see her storm out of the cafeteria.

It shouldn’t make you smile, but it does.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #osamu smut #osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya smut #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya twins #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #✨#✨osamu #bully!osamu

3K notes · View notes

atsvmi · 1 year

Text

Isagi’s Interlude

“I wish I wasn’t famous/ I wish I was still in school/ So that I could have you in my dorm room/ I would put it on you crazy” - Cece’s Interlude, Drake

✿ tags: minors dni, 18+ content, pro!Isagi, fem!reader (called good girl, wears a skirt, has cleavage, etc.), established relationship, mention of an age difference (reader is older than Isagi, both are in their 20s), consensual audio recording, role play (university students), switch!Isagi, switch!reader, oral (male receiving), humping, unprotected sex, mentions of virginity but neither is a virgin, purity kink, corruption kink (?), one mention of a spoiler, tbh i think this is pwp but idk

✿ wc: 3.5k

✿ a/n: the time has come that i officially am no longer catfishing as a writing blog🥳 please clap. also, this is my first time writing smut so please be kind<3

“Do you think we’d still date if we knew each other when we were in school?”

Your question is a random but welcomed conversation as you both work to reset your shared kitchen after dinner, you wash as he dries. In the seconds between the next clean dish, he pauses to consider his answer, before choosing to reach for low-hanging fruit.

“Do you mean high school? If so then...I hope not,” he finally answers. He can’t help but laugh as you fling the excess water and soap from your fingers onto him in indignation.

“No, I didn’t mean fucking high school. And quit making me seem like a fucking cradle robber, asshole.” You’ve been together long enough that the four-year age difference between the two of you is little more than a fun fact and a harmless joke at times. He can sense your annoyance is mostly for show but he chooses not to push any further.

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry,” he manages to get out between chuckles, fending himself from the assault of suds. Again he pauses to really think about what could’ve been. What would he have studied? Would he manage to get into a university with a good team? How would you manage to cross paths? He realizes it’s hard to consider anything when he doesn’t know much about your own school experience outside of the anecdotal stories you’ve told him.

“Tell me what you were like in school first.”

You resume washing the dishes, multitasking as you answer him.

“Um…pretty lame honestly. I wrote for the school’s newspaper. I wasn’t super active on campus but that made me get out there more than I would’ve on my own. But I did go to some parties.”

He lets your answer sink in.

“Yeah, I think we would’ve still got along. You don’t sound like you were much different from now so I don’t see why not.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your lips turn slightly up, pleased with his answer. Cute.

“Do you ever think about your life if things turned out differently? Like if Blue Lock never happened?”

He can’t say he has. Blue Lock changed his life on its head completely, it’s hard to imagine things working out any differently. Tada and the others he went to school with were freshly graduated, at least according to their social media updates, so he supposes he would be too. Yet still, it’s hard to think about something so different than today.

“I dunno. I can’t really picture it. Actually, I don’t even want to. If I didn’t go to Blue Lock then who knows if I’d ever get the chance to play the soccer I want to. I’d probably never get to play professionally either.” He lets his train of thought wander, eventually realizing that without playing professionally, who knows if he’d ever cross paths with you. He buries the thought before it can even fully form and upset himself in the process.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” you conclude as you hand him the final dish. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Can you just finish up here by sweeping?”

He nods in the affirmative, which you thank with a kiss that just misses his lips before leaving in the direction of the bedroom. Left with only his thoughts he can’t help but think a bit more about what could’ve been.

Obviously, he’d continue playing soccer as long as possible. Sure his high school team wasn’t amazing, but maybe through tryouts he’d end up at a decent enough school. And he’s always liked art class. Maybe he would’ve tried to pursue a fine arts degree? Or physical therapy to help athletes just in case soccer really didn’t pan out. But what then? For someone who’s built an entire soccer career around the ability to visualize a scenario, he really can’t help but to draw a blank.

Distracted by being in his own head, finishing around the kitchen takes longer than usual. When he finally manages to make his way to your shared room, he just manages to hear the sink’s water turn off, a sign that you’re at the tail end of your nightly routine.

He turns down the bed, first removing the many throw pillows you insist are necessary (a mild point of contention in his opinion. After all, what good is a pillow you’re not even allowed to lay on?) and then making himself comfortable using the “sleeping pillows” to prop himself up against the headboard, occupying himself by scrolling on the phone while he waits for you to make your way to bed. Despite it being the off-season he’s scheduled to meet with a trainer to maintain his conditioning so an early night is in order.

The click of the bathroom door opening draws his eyes but more importantly, what you’ve decided to wear to bed has his full attention.

“Baby, you look-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Is this still a good time for the interview?”

“Interview?”

He’s never been so confused in his life. And even worse, he can’t even dedicate half of his mind to start to comprehend what you’re playing at when he’s busy eyeing you from head to toe. The only thing on his mind is the oversized replica of his Bastard München jersey you’ve tied at your waist and the shortest skirt he’s ever seen. If he were to turn you around he’s sure that it’d cover absolutely nothing he’s sure a skirt is meant to. But even more captivating is the pair of thigh highs that indent into your skin the same way his fingers do when he-

“Yes? The post-game interview. I was hoping to get a quote for the paper from the player that scored the winning goal.”

“Uhh…” Is the most intelligent answer he can muster as he watches you climb onto the bed with a pad of paper and pen in hand. The size of the jersey only frames your cleavage as it gapes open thanks to gravity. Eventually, you make yourself comfortable, legs tucked under you and pen poised to take notes of his response.

“Is it ok if I record this,” you ask, sliding your phone on the nightstand, voice recorder rolling once he manages a stiff nod of his head. You continue. “So what were you thinking in that last play? It was pretty amazing if I say so myself.”

“Winning goal?” He should feel embarrassed by the way he can’t pull his eyes from your legs but the slither of skin between where your skirt ends and the socks begin is calling his name. It’s like he’s in high school again the way he can feel the blood rush from his head. Only your groan of annoyance gives him the strength to meet your eyes again.

“Babe, it’s called role play,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe in some ways, it is.

“Right. Role play.” A beat passes. “What exactly are the roles we’re playing?”

The look you give him makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Obviously, you’re the star of our university’s soccer team and I am the reporter assigned to cover the season. You just scored the championship goal. Aaaand scene,” you drop your pen and paper to clap for extra effect and then grab both again, poised and ready for his answer.

Truthfully, he can hardly keep up with your antics but that’s never stopped him from trying. He’s had enough practice managing eccentric personalities from the cast of characters Blue Lock managed to put together so this is nothing but a cakewalk. The fact he’s in love with you only makes your idiosyncrasies endearing.

“Right.” He clears his throat, buying time. “I try to keep a cool head and focus on the field whenever I’m playing. A championship game doesn’t change that.”

You scratch something down on the notepad before continuing.

“And how do you feel now that you’ve won?”

“It’s a big achievement to win the championship for the school, and even more so to be the one to finish the game. I just hope to do even better next year.”

This time you jot away a bit longer, leaving his attention to wander back to your outfit. He reaches out a hand to appreciate the getup, running his hand up your knee to just under the hem of your skirt.

“Mr. Isagi you seem pretty distracted. Are you sure this is still a good time?”

“Call me Yoichi”. He doesn’t move his hand away when he answers.

Again you put down your props, seemingly for good as they rest next to your phone.

“I suppose this is probably too boring of a celebration for a star player like yourself. I should probably let you go back to the team for a proper congratulations. I’m sure you have quite the fan club waiting for you.”

“I doubt it. I’ve never been that popular.”

With that, you scoot closer, letting your legs fall open so that he can get the slightest glimpse between your legs if your skirt were to ride up even the slightest centimeter.

“That sounds doubtful. Who wouldn’t want a chance with Isagi Yoichi? Ace of the soccer team. Handsome and nice to boot.”

Despite complimenting his personality, your attention is focused on his physique, eyes roaming across his body appreciatively. He doesn’t fail to notice that you linger a second longer where the sheets have started to tent.

“Do you think it’d be ok if I properly congratulated you,” you ask, resting a hand on the sheet, ready to pull it away at a moment’s notice. You both have a healthy sex life, both well accustomed to initiating, but it’s rare for you to be so forward. He might pass out if you wait any longer to touch him.

“Congratulations? What did you have in mind?” Is all he can get out, forcing you to get straight to the point.

“Let me suck your cock. As a congratulations on a job well done.” Your hand cups his length through both the layers of the sheet, his joggers, and underwear, but he swears he could still cum with the slightest amount of friction he’s so wound up.

“Yeah. Yes. Please.” He’s near breathless, he wants you so badly.

Not a second is wasted before you have him bare from the waist down. He completes the look by pulling his shirt over his head, throwing the offending article wherever it chooses to land. All the while, you shimmy yourself down between his legs. Sure he’s the one fully naked but the eroticism of the sight before him already has him on the brink of cumming.

His name emblazoned between your shoulder blades is something he still has yet to learn to be normal about, but more than that, he finds that he was right about your skirt not covering an inch of your backside. However, what he wasn’t expecting was for it to perfectly frame the curve of your ass since you’ve apparently decided to forego underwear.

“Fuck me,” he gets out in only a puff of air.

“In due time, Mr. Yoichi,” is all you offer before kissing the mushroom tip, smearing the precum that’s collected on your lips, and then swallowing all that will comfortably fit in your mouth. It takes all the strength he can muster to not instinctively buck into you but he can’t hide the deep groan that comes out involuntarily as he meets the entrance of your throat.

“Fuck. You’re so good at this. Always so good,” he offers as he bundles your hair into his fist, slowly guiding you up and down his length. The praise leads you to moan around him, getting him even closer to the brink of cumming.

To get a better view he props himself up on one shaky arm, massaging all that he can reach, as you use your other hand to fondle his balls. Mere minutes pass before he starts to feel the familiar pit of pleasure begin to grow in his belly and it takes all his willpower to pull you off of him before he cums from the added stimulation. It’s next to a miracle that he manages to hold off even after he’s pulled you off once he sees the thick strings of saliva that still connect the two of you.

“I wasn’t done yet,” you have the audacity to pout.

“I didn’t want to cum yet,” he answers. Even to his own ears, he sounds debauched.

While still catching his breath he pulls you close, encouraging you to straddle him. You do and let out quiet moans as you rut your bare pussy against his length. Despite being so close to cumming before, he’s happy to let you do as you please. When your legs eventually tire, he switches to using both hands on your waist to manhandle you the way he knows you like.

“Tell me how you feel, sweetheart.” He can’t get enough of your sounds, no matter how small. To see how much of a mess you’re making he flips the front of your skirt, his tip coming in and out of view as he rocks you back and forth.

“So good, Yoichi. Your hands feel so good.”

He knows it’s not enough to get you off, that you need more. Eventually, he stops, pulling you down so that your chests meet. If you really want to role play, he figures he should get into the role he’s been assigned.

“Is there more to my award,” he asks, hands roaming under the jersey and under your skirt. There’s nowhere his hands don’t explore while he waits for your answer.

“W-what more do you want?”

He moves his right hand so that it’s between your bodies, spreading your pussy lips so that he can fully appreciate the wetness that’s accumulated. He uses his full palm to rub your clit while he answers.

“You said you’d fuck me in due time, yeah? Or were you all talk?”

“Um…about that.” Your eyes are fluttering, struggling to stay open and focus on his words. He feels like he’s on top of the world seeing how he can ruin you. “I have to t-tell you something.”

“I’m listening baby.” His voice is muffled as he leaves kisses across your neck and cheeks. Anywhere he can reach while you still use him to get off.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your eyes meet.

The proverbial record scratches and again he’s confused.

“What do you mean, you’ve never done this before?” Sure you both have busy schedules but there’s no way this is new to either of you. As a matter of fact, it couldn’t be more than a week since he had you in this exact position-

“I was a virgin when I got to college,” you whisper directly in his ear.

Again you have the upper hand as it feels like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice. The feeling only lasts a second though before it feels like every nerve lights up once he connects that this is still a part of the scene you’ve conjured. Oh.

The idea of you as a virgin has never crossed his mind once until this very moment. Given the age you were when you met, he had no reason to give it consideration. It’s not like he was even a virgin when you met. He makes a mental note to do some soul-searching later to find out why he’s rock hard and nearly brought back to the brink of cumming at the mere idea.

“Do…do you want to keep going?”

You laugh. A full out belly laugh.

“Yoichi, you're so cute. Only you would still be so considerate even in a fantasy.”

If all the blood in his body wasn’t occupied he’d probably blush at your teasing.

“I fucking love you,” you emphasize with a kiss. “Yes, I want to continue.”

Not another word is needed before he’s fully plunged back into the world you’ve created. No, he's never thought about you as a virgin but now that the seed has been planted he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

Within a breath, he’s switched your positions, now with you on your back and him pulling your legs onto his lap as he sits above you.

“Tell me if anything is too much, ok?” He preambles before he sucks both his ring and middle fingers, slowly pushing in one finger, then the other when he deems you ready.

Now that you’re fully on display for him he can’t help but stare. Again, the skirt hides absolutely nothing but he does push the jersey so that your tits are on display for him as well. Seeing you dressed but so exposed has his head swimming.

“You’re so pretty. Prettiest thing I’ve seen on campus.” If he’s going to play along, then he might as well go all out.

He bends at the waist to take in one tit, using his tongue to lick at and bite your nipple, before turning his attention to the other all the while he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers into you.

“Yoichi, please. I need you,” you whine.

He takes pity on you and moves from your chest and back up to your lips, kissing you deeply. God, he’s so in love with you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just wanted to make sure you were good and ready. I want to make sure I don’t hurt you.”

“I promise I’m ready.”

“Ok, ok. I hear you. But can you do me a favor and clean my fingers for me?”

As soon as his request hits his ears your mouth falls open in a way that can only be described as obedient. He lets you suck at both his fingers until he removes them himself, the way your tongue slips between them turning him on all the more.

“So good for me. I really am a lucky guy, huh?” He watches you preen under his praise as he reaches next to your head for an extra pillow, lifting your hips to situate it underneath you.

“Ok, if you need me to stop just tell me, ok? For any reason.” You nod your head yes.

“Need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Yoichi. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

He locks his hand in yours before he finally presses into you, both of you moaning as he works his hips into you. It’s a fantasy, sure, but he’s as mindful as he can be to be slow and let you get accustomed to him, even if it’s far from your first times, or even 48 hours since he last fucked you.

He’s captivated by the way your mouth falls open as he fucks into you. It’s familiar but entrances him every time. When you give the go ahead he increases his pace, working at that spot he knows gets you there the fastest.

“More, need more,” and he knows exactly what you need, licking his thumb before rubbing against your clit in tight circles. It’s only through time and experience that he knows exactly how to work your body, confirmed by the way you babble his name as if it’s the only word you know.

“You’re taking me so well. Feel so good, so tight. Can feel you squeezing me. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yeah. Gonna cum for you. So fucking close.” You’re wrecked.

“I know, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Kiss me.”

Your wish is his command, him meeting your waiting mouth. It’s barely a kiss as you can hardly meet his mouth between your moans but he swallows them all dutifully. It’s when your back arches and you fall near silent beside one final cry of his name does he know that you’re cumming. He pulls away to watch you fall apart.

“That’s my girl. So beautiful. Let it out for me.” The vice around his cock makes it difficult to fuck you through your orgasm but he powers through. Only once you relax does he rut into you a few more times before he loses himself, filling you as deeply as he can manage.

It’s silent once he collapses next to you, both catching your breath. When he catches his breath before you he departs with a peck to your lips before he leaves for the bathroom, returning with a damp rag.

“If that’s what I missed out on then I wouldn’t have minded going to school,” he breaks the reverie, cleaning between your legs before his cum has a chance to cool and become uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. Now I can have you all to myself,” you smile at him. He thinks his heart might burst.

“Yeah…that’s true too. Maybe everything worked out the way it did so that we could meet each other?”

“God, you're so sappy. Gross.” You both know you don’t mean it.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” He once again bends at the waist to meet your lips. Gross or not he’s glad things aligned to this very moment.

You meet him halfway, sitting up on one arm to brush away his damp bangs. When you pull away you meet his gaze.

“I really, really do fucking love you, Yoichi”.

Yeah, he’s sure he’d meet you in every universe.

#isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi smut #isagi yoichi smut #blue lock x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock smut #bluelock smut #i’m going to walk away from this site for 48 hours out of shame #(me lying)

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sssammich · 3 months

Text

collateral pt2

author's note: this is a continuation of the 'captive prompt' fic snippet. this story has now taken a life of its own but i'm not sure what the direction is until we get there. consider it a slow burn, angst with a happy ending, with an introduction of a rarepair. endgame supercorp...eventually.

thanks for reading. send me prompts

part 1

Kara heard the starting swell of the music from the live band, the notes from the trumpet flowing out onto where she found herself now: a restricted garden area of the estate, muted slightly with the now closed door behind her. She rushed to the metal railing overlooking the gardens and gripped the top of it, fruitlessly shaking it in her grasp if only to release some of the stifled restlessness inside of her.

As the music continued playing, Kara knew this as the moment that Lena danced with Jack for the first time as husband and wife. How they swayed together in the middle of the dance floor, her floor-length dress swishing from side to side. Her hand on his shoulder, his hand on her waist. The two of them looking into each other’s eyes and smiled. They were a perfect snapshot of a happy, perfect couple on their happy, perfect day.

It was a scene that she didn’t have the strength to witness for herself. She was sure the inevitable wedding photos and videos would remind her, but she’d rather not hurt herself any more than she absolutely had to.

She hastily wiped the tears from her face, shutting her eyes closed to stop the tears from descending down her face and dropping onto her bridesmaid’s dress. She took a deep breath through her nose before exhaling out of her mouth. God, how she wished she had another drink before escaping. Or a smoke. Lena smoked when she was nervous or stressed. She’d even taken a drag just before she walked down the aisle. Kara should have pocketed it or something for this very occasion.

She knew she would need to go back in there soon, but the allure of leaving entirely and starting fresh elsewhere just to give her heart a fighting chance felt more and more appealing by the second.

“If you glare at that poor rosebush any longer, it might just catch on fire.”

Startled by the sound, Kara jumped slightly back from where she stood, her hip hitting the railing as her teary vision found Andrea, one of Lena’s longtime friends from their boarding school days if she recalled correctly, standing there with an arm across her chest while the other rested on it as she held a lit cigarette between two long fingers.

“I wasn’t g-glaring.” She shut her mouth, mad at herself for stuttering. “What are you doing here?”

Andrea tilted her head and held out the hand holding her burning cigarette. What else, she gestured.

She watched the red embers from the tip of the cigarette. Then, “Do you have another one?”

That seemed to earn her a curious arched brow, but Kara only shrugged. Seemingly satisfied, or perhaps not simply not caring, Andrea opened her other hand to reveal the pack of cigarettes and her small gold lighter.

“Not what I would have expected from you, Pulitzer.”

“My name’s not Pulitzer,” she said, her tone defensive even as she took a cigarette and carefully rolled it between her fingers. “And you don’t know me.”

“No, can’t say that I do.”

Andrea deftly opened her lighter with a flick, the golden flame lit up between them as Kara, novice that she was, tried to light her cigarette. Kara placed the butt of the cigarette between her lips and puckered before she inhaled and let the smoke fill her lungs as best she could. Inevitably, unsurprisingly, that one pull was enough for her to cough and barely cover her mouth as she turned away to clear her airways of smoke.

“Did know that, though.”

She wanted to glare away the smirk on the woman’s face. Determined, she took another hit and let the warmth take over, if only to focus her mind. She turned her head and exhaled away the smoke from the corner of her mouth before quickly doing it again.

“You know you can’t get drunk smoking cigarettes.”

She huffed, the smoke coming out through her nostrils as she made a face at the other woman.

Andrea only smiled before she put her hand up, thumb over the pack of cigarettes and lighter to hold them in place, as a show of surrender. “Relax. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

Then, as if demonstrating, Andrea brought her own cigarette to her mouth, the light colored filter sat against the rouge of her lips and inhaled. She stared expectantly at Kara as the smoke settled momentarily in her lungs before eventually the smoke wisps came through the side of her mouth.

Kara watched her, fascinated, even as she let her own cigarette continue to burn unsmoked between her fingers. They stood there in silence with one another, Kara slowing herself down with each drag, the smoke a putrid smell to her senses but it was something to focus on. She looked at the wall straight ahead of her, every now and again glancing at her unexpected companion. Woven between the wisps of smoke between them was what she could only assume was Andrea’s perfume. Something surprisingly fresh, floral. Not something Kara would have guessed for the other woman. Kara might have considered something warmer, darker.

“So which one?” Andrea asked aloud, breaking the silence between them, just as she finished her cigarette, dropping it by her feet so she could squash it with her shoe.

Kara scrunched her face. “Which one what?”

“Which one are you in love with?”

“I—” Her brows jumped to her hairline in surprise before her jaw dropped as she tried to find her voice.

“Lena, right?”

“I’m not—”

Andrea shook her head even as she waved her hand dismissively. “I’m not judging. It doesn’t matter, either way. But it’s her, isn’t it?”

Kara’s face scrunched as she thought about her options. She could lie. She’d been doing it for years, after all. But she was tired. And, at this point, it might do her some good to be honest even if it was just with one other person.

She looked away before nodding her head, ashamed of herself. Yet the confession lifted something up inside of her; she felt lighter, even just for a moment.

Andrea hummed as she wrapped her arms around herself. “There are worse people to pick, if it’s any consolation.”

Kara scoffed. “It’s not. But thanks.”

Andrea then gripped the remainder of Kara’s cigarette and plucked it out of her hand.

“Hey!”

“I won’t be responsible for your nicotine addiction. Let’s go back inside. If you really want to nurse a broken heart, that’s what the open bar is for.”

Kara watched as Andrea snuffed out her cigarette with the same shoe she used earlier and clutched at Kara’s now free hand, dragging her back through the doors. She could protest—should, really—but instead, powerless and resigned, she let herself be pulled back into the fray unaware of how she gripped the other woman’s hand tightly in hers like a lifeline.

When Kara reentered the grand hall, she winced at the cacophony of sounds and smells and sights. She winced slightly, adjusting her glasses with her free hand when she realized that her other hand was still firmly held in Andrea’s. She should let go, and eventually, she did. But if she let her joined hands linger for just a beat longer, Andrea said nothing about it.

She stepped forward and turned her body slightly towards the other woman. “Thanks. For earlier. And if you could—”

“I won’t tell. Don’t worry.”

She nodded, but then paused. “Why not?”

“What do you mean? Did you want me to?”

“No! I mean—I just don’t understand why you’re being so nice to me right now.”

“Would you rather I kick a girl while she’s down?”

She pouted. “Is this just pity?”

“Ah, querida, you’ll know if it’s pity.”

“Then what is this? What are you doing?”

Andrea eyed her intently, then made a point to scan the room until she found what she was looking for. Curiously, Kara followed her gaze and it landed on the wedded couple talking to some random group of grandparents several tables away.

“Helping. I’m helping.”

She was just about to ask why when they heard the clink of the utensils against glass, urging for the newlywed to kiss.

Kara watched helplessly as Jack dipped Lena and kissed her, the grand hall filled with cheers and applause. When she turned to Andrea, the other woman had already been staring at her, as if to answer her unspoken question: that’s why.

“Come on. You need liquor.”

#samfic: collateral #that's the title #make of that what you will #will eventually string these snippets together and form a proper chapter for ao3 #in the meantime pls enjoy or not? or whatever make your choices #samfic #supercorp #superrojas

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sapphos-ode · 11 months

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Little Cat?

Part 4

Larissa Weems part 3 | part 5 | ao3

Principal Weems wanted to know everything about you, and the more she found out the more she hungered for more. Never satisfied.

During your little outing you had told her you’d attended a normie school, and you wished you had attended Nevermore or a similar place instead. Part of the reason you went into teaching was to be the teacher you had needed as a teenager. Larissa’s heart breaks for you, thoughts of you surviving highschool like every teenager does on top of being an outcast in a normie society flooding her mind. In turn Larissa had divulged that her own experience at Nevermore wasn’t the best either.

Larissa now knows how you love forest walks, how you play the violin - she pretends this is new information - how you’re teaching yourself the piano, and that you had a pet frog as a child. But it had ran away the first night. She feigned sympathy earning her an affronted gasp from you. She hoped you hadn’t caught on to her staring - you had, it wasn’t hard to not notice when Larissa hadn’t taken her eyes off of you once since you had sat down with your drinks.

Unbeknownst to Larissa - the way she looked at you, so intensely and hanging onto every word you had to say, as if you were god telling her the meaning of life - made your heart swell and your head rush. Your face flushed under her gaze. With how loud your heart was beating you wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear it.

“You look like the type of person to have really bad road rage,” you comment. Taking a drink from your coffee.

Larissa scoffs at this, shaking her head, “I’ll have you know I’m a very calm driver,”

You hold her gaze for a second, “Bet you cuss out other drivers in your head,”

The Principal offered you a playful smile. A twinkle in her eyes.

“Knew it! You can just tell when someone has road rage, my uncle-”

“Excuse me,” a man’s voice cuts you off. Stealing your attention from Larissa much to her dismay.

And to add insult to injury it’s the man from the queue.

“Hello again,” you greet him with a smile.

Larissa fixes the collar of her dress before casting her gaze out the window. Feeling like a spare part.

“I wanted to give you my number, I thought we got on well is all,”

Larissa’s heart sinks and she has to force herself to not snap her head in his direction. He is very attractive, and with a kind smile. She looks over to you, looking for any indication in your body language that would suggest discomfort. She finds none.

“Oh, right…” you take the piece of paper from him, “yeah,”

“Cool, well I’ll see you around? Text me,” he gives you a wink before taking his leave.

An awkwardness falls between you and Larissa. She waits until the man has disappeared down the street before speaking.

“He’s easy on the eye,” she musters up the strength to smile.

You look up from the paper, lips pressed in a thin line, “he is, yeah… but-” you stop abruptly. Eyes a little wide as they bore into Larissa’s. She can see the conflict in your head.

“But what Miss Karnstein?” Larissa’s face is muddled with concern, as far as she was aware everything was fine. For you at least, she just had to watch her crush get hit on.

“I don’t…” your voice is low and you speak slowly, a little unsure of yourself, your eyes flit between Larissa’s, “I don’t swing that way,” you hold your breath. It felt scary every time you told someone.

‘She’s gay!’

Principal Weems can’t help contain the massive grin on her face, “not your type then?” She jokes.

You relax, and let out a faint chuckle, “far from it, only thing he had going for him was his height,”

“Into taller women then?” Larissa did a good job hiding the hopeful hint in her voice.

“I am yes, I happen to have a soft spot for tall femmes,” you can’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.

“Cute,”

“Hush you,” you roll your eyes at her, “I should text him though, let him know. I don’t want to lead him on,”

“You aren’t leading him on, but telling him would be the merciful thing to do,” Larissa knows she should feel sorry for the guy, but she’s too giddy at this latest discovery.

You had dug out an old jumper to wear, and sat on your bed burrowed into your numerous pillows and throws. Your laptop open, playing some chick flick movie. It was background noise for you as you write out lesson plans in a notebook. The evening sun was fast disappearing as stars started to dapple the sky.

The noise of your window creaking open steals your attention as a certain feline slips into your room. You unceremoniously toss your notebook aside and pull yourself from the cocoon you had made.

“Hello little lady,” you waste no time in scooping up the cat into your arms, “back again so soon,”

You clamber onto your bed again, happy as Larry with your new company. Who is purring very loudly and butting its head against your bicep.

“Affectionate little thing, aren’t you,” you muse to yourself, “hope you like ‘White Chicks’ cause that’s what we’re gonna watch tonight,” you close the current show and type in the search bar.

Larissa was more of a soppy romcom kind of woman, she wasn’t particularly keen on chick flicks. She growled lowly.

“Unless you can speak and give me a film suggestion, it’s ‘White Chicks’ ,” you look down at the cat who most certainly doesn’t look pleased at all, funny how emotive this cat could be.

You press play and lean back, scratching behind the cat's ear. Larissa was in bliss. Loving every second of being back in your arms.

Maybe twenty minutes in you grow bored and start searching for another film to watch. Larissa was sat on your lap contently purring away, her chin resting on your knee. She watched the screen as you scrolled for a while until you decided on Carol (2015).

“I’d marry Cate Blanchett in a heartbeat,”

If Larissa wasn’t currently a cat she’d have raised a very questioning brow at your comment. Were you into older women? Or did you just really like Cate Blanchett? She’d ponder on that later. Right now she just wanted to enjoy your presence.

“Blonde women are just so pretty,” you murmur.

Larissa sits up at this with an abruptness and lets out a high pitched meow. You look from the screen to her before petting her cheek.

“Glad you agree,” you giggle before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

In that second, Larissa’s brain short circuited. Hard. She leapt off your lap and scampered out the window. She sprinted back to her office leaving you very confused. You extricate yourself from your blankets and head outside.

Larissa shot through the little side balcony door of her office and once she was through the threshold she shifted back into herself. Out of breath and red faced. This was ridiculous. Getting kissed on the head by you should not have flustered her so much that she was unable to hold her form. Larissa thanked the gods for cats agility - if she was any other animal she doubted she’d have managed to escape before proofing back into herself.

You were so tender and gentle with her as a cat, and the feeling of your lips on her forehead had her grinning and giggling like a school girl.

She recovers quickly and heads back out onto her balcony, her eyes immediately landing on your bedroom window. She spots you out on your own veranda looking around the roofs. Your eyes land on Larissa’s from afar and you give her a wave. She offers a shy one back before hastily retreating back inside.

Only once her mind had finally relaxed, and her heart had slowed did she recall the film you were about to watch (unknowingly) with her before she bailed. Larissa thanks the universe that she had left, because she most certainly wouldn’t have been able to keep her form as a cat when the sex scene played.

AN - I’m not too happy with this one but I had to get the coffee not date date over with. Anyways hope this was an okay read x also Carol (2015) is such a good movie. Highly recommend. Think I might do a Rave’N chapter :)

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader

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petersbaby · 2 years

Text

Stepbro!eddie x attention wh0re reader

Warnings: stepcest, slight spanking, smut.

It was an afternoon, past 4, where you were stuck at school after it let out. You had no other way home besides Eddie and so you had to sit while he does his nerdy game stuff before he could take you home.

It wasn’t an incredible amount of people in this group, but it’s more than you would’ve expected. It’s kinda just like all the weirdest kids at school united and decided to sit in a classroom after school willingly to play pretend.

They all sit at a table where Eddie is at the front end, he is the “master” when it comes to this game. He’s always the one in charge of the rest of the members and he takes his main role way too seriously.

You sit in a chair at the end of the table opposite from him and get started on your homework while they do their thing.

Once everyone was in, the game started, but the energy in the room was weird. Weirder than normal, anyway.

You soon realized that when you lift your gaze up, about half the boys are staring at you, including Eddie, who looks a little mad.

You didn’t quite understand, it’s not like you were sitting there naked. You had a skirt on, with a lower cut tank top with an oversized jacket covering your arms and shoulders.

“Uhh… what’s the problem..? I’m not gonna bother you guys, go ahead and do your thing.” You announce to the boys.

They quickly redirect their eyes and one of them blushes. This was really weird. Well, they all did except for Eddie. He was still staring, rather unapologetically.

You shift positions in a way that you could push your tits together a little more with your arms without being obvious. You even go the extra mile to discretely pull your top lower down.

To you, it was funny, and you liked the attention but only really from him. The others weren’t interesting to you, but you enjoyed the way they looked at you like they’d do anything in the world just to touch you.

“You’re distracting us, go sit over there.” He says, gesturing to a stray desk on the other side of the room.

You roll your eyes and get up, taking your backpack with you and feeling that your skirt had ridden up but intentionally not fixing it right away, giving Eddie a flash of the very bottom of your ass cheeks as he watched you walk away from their table.

When the last person files out of the room, he comes up to you.

“Why are you being such a whore? Why are you showing off to my friends?”

“I’m not. I was just doing my work.”

“Don’t act stupid. They were all passing notes around talking about how hot you are and how they wish they could fuck you.”

“I literally just showed my cleavage, it’s not my fault their virgin brains can’t stop staring at it.”

“So you admit it. And you’re so goddamn lucky that they didn’t see you flaunting your ass across the room.”

“I’m bored. Can we go now?” You huff, tired of hearing him already.

When you get home, there are no cars in the driveway. This instantly clicked in your mind that something was about to happen. You try to get out and run to your room, locking him out, but he grabs your wrist.

“No one’s here. So since you wanna act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one. Would you like that?”

You didn’t have an answer to give.

He releases your arm. “Go straight to my room.”

Once inside his dingy bedroom, you sit on the edge of his bed expectantly. He follows you in and locks the door behind him. “Get up.”

You stand, waiting for the next direction. He pushes you over from behind, so that you fall forwards and your arms catch you from face planting onto his dresser.

Bent over, you have to squirm and try to contain your excitement. You hear his belt unbuckle loudly, and you’re 100% expecting him to just fuck you from behind. Instead, a stinging sensation jolts your whole body, and the sound of the belt hitting your skin echoes in the air.

You gasp, and while you like it, it’s bordering on being a little too much.

“N-no, no more please, I’m sorry eds for getting on your nerves”

“Fine. I was gonna do five, but I’ll let you off with three. Only two more.”

You nod, appreciating the mercy he’s shown you. You take the next two like a champ, knowing he was doing this for a reason. Once done, he tosses his belt to the floor beside him.

Still bent over, he reaches beneath your torso to lift you up so that your back was against his chest so that you could see yourself well in the mirror on the wall.

“They’d never have a chance with you, would they, huh?”

You shake your head “no”.

“Say it. You’re only a whore for me, nobody else can have you like this. Look at me.” You look it him in the reflection and he’s serious about this.

“No, they don’t have a chance, I’m yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

He presses against your ass, hardening bulge rubbing your heat through black denim and black lace. He pulls off your sweater, then pushing your skirt up your hips he slides your underwear down.

He releases his hold on you, and you fall forward again, arching your back this time. He runs his fingers over the outer area of your pussy, not coming close enough to where you want them.

You wiggle a bit, trying to somehow get more. He withdraws his fingers and grips your hips with both hands to keep you still.

“Please, please, please daddy” you ask, desperately. “Just fuck me and I’ll be good, I promise. N-never gonna do it again. I’m sorry.”

“Mhm, I think you’re just so desperate that you’re saying whatever I wanna hear.”

“No, no I really am, please.” The way he was looking at you somehow hurt, there was no love in his eyes in that moment.

Tears started to sting and your vision becomes blurry. You stop begging, and just cry.

He takes in the sight for a minute before deciding he can’t upset you too much more. He unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down along with his underwear.

He spits in his palm, pumping himself a few times before teasingly lingering at your entrance. “Please.” You whisper.

He pushes into you, filthy wet sounds filling the room immediately mixing with your sounds of both frustration and satisfaction.

You bury your head in your arms on the wood surface in front of you, trying to be so good that he’ll be nice to you again.

“Need to hear you. You want me to stop? Just say the word and I will.”

I’m any situation, he was always sweet. He had a rough persona he liked to put on sometimes, like this time, but it was an act in the end and he didn’t want to hurt you.

“No, don’t want you to stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Okay then.” He leans forward to press a kiss onto the center of your back.

At some point, he was just using you like a toy. It was clear that this was not for your pleasure, just his, although it still felt really good for you regardless.

You can only just whine and grunt as he fucks you hard from behind, legs feeling like jelly.

He notices and holds onto your hips to keep you from falling to the floor, getting done with you soon after. He pulls out of you, immediately spurting hot seed all over the length of your back.

Somehow, a little even manages to get in the ends of your hair. He breathes heavily once the last drop is out and pulls up his underwear and pants, not bothering to zip or buckle them.

You’re left in a vulnerable position, ass in the air and slightly red and sore, cum all over you to the point you can’t move or it’ll start spilling off.

He grabs a random towel from his floor and wipes you down, and hands you the clothes you were wearing.

Once you put them back on, he grabs a shirt of his out of the closet and tossed it to you.

“Go take a shower, should probably wash your hair. Put that on after and give it back once it smells like you.”

#idk what this is but here you go #eddie munson smut #stepbro!eddie #tw stepcest

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satansapostle6 · 2 months

Text

fire and ice | james cook

Cook’s interest is piqued when an old childhood friend moves in across the street.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content.

part one. those girls.

Cook was in need of something to get his day going when he left the house that morning. He had just woken up and was completely sober, no alcohol, and no spliff. Yet. He was about to be on his way to school, before he saw her.

New neighbors had moved in across the street a few days before, but James Cook hadn’t really seen any of them, until this very moment. The new neighbors, it seemed, had a daughter. Most likely his age. Cook was stunned for a moment, forgetting where he was as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, just looking at her.

There was something so strongly familiar about this girl, as if he’d seen her before, as if he knew her. But he thought it couldn’t have been; she’d only just moved in. Cook studied her features eagerly as he took in her appearance.

Her white T-shirt sporting the logo of a popular beer, he was delighted to find, had no undergarments beneath it. Her jeans, he thought as he slowly scanned her tall form, were fitted, at least in the right place. She had long dark hair, with bangs that hid eyes that, even from a far, were quite alluring.

Already having made his decision, he ran straight across the street as he saw her walking in the same direction he was meant to head in. He had to shag this girl, he knew.

As he ran up behind the girl, he was frustrated by the fact that she wasn’t particularly alerted in any way by his presence. He’d assumed that since he’d ran up to her, she’d at least look to see who was just behind her, but she didn’t really seem to notice any as she kept walking.

“Got some sort of death wish, do you?” Cook asked her as she finally turned her head.

“No more than anybody else,” she responded.

He smiled, appreciating her devil-may-care sort of nonchalance.

“What’s your name, death wish?” he asked her.

“Why don’t you tell me yours?” she challenged softly.

Cook grinned, enjoying whatever game she was playing. “I asked you first,” he pointed out with a foolish expression on his face.

“I already answered your first question,” she pointed out patiently.

“Alright. Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’m Cook.”

He saw as the girl paused for a moment, thinking before she finally spoke.

“You wouldn’t happen to be… James Cook, would you?” she said finally.

“Why, have we shagged before?” he asked eagerly. “If so, that’s nothing to me, I’ll do it again.”

“Absolutely not,” the girl scoffed, crossing her arms. “We were ‘best mates’. In primary school. Remember?” she teased.

Cook froze, petrified as he traced his memory as far back as he could, trying to place this girl’s face.

“Wait, wait…” he trailed off in awe, slowly able to place her brown hair and green eyes, “Wheeler?! Bollocks, Tiffany Wheeler?!”

”That’s me,” she nodded, watching with satisfaction as he lost his mind over the fact.

“Fucking hell! No way that’s really you!” he cackled in disbelief. “I remember you used to let me copy off you in second year!”

“You said it made us best mates,” Tiffany nodded, watching him as he reminisced.

“I did. We were best mates,” Cook insisted. “You were the only one who didn’t laugh at me cuz I didn’t know my letters.”

“You still seem like you don’t,” she pointed out.

He just laughed, jumping up in excitement as he lazily threw an arm around her.

“We’re still best mates!” he jeered, playfully tousling her hair as she laughed.

Cook was just as she remembered from when they were small, loud, rambunctious, and excitable. He looked how she would’ve imagined even before, disheveled and reckless with his short, messy hair and collar half sticking up.

“Okay, Wheeler,” he beamed, still following her more so than walking alongside her. “We go to the same college?” he wondered.

“Probably,” she deduced.

“So… Since we’re, you know, best mates, and classmates, and neighbors, and such,” Cook trailed off, somehow sounding as if he were speaking with a mouthful, “Come to my place later? Like… you know. Come?” he grinned.

“Fuck no, Cookie,” Tiffany said firmly, much to his disappointment. “I’ve already heard enough about you.”

“Really?” he demanded. “From who?!”

“Friends.”

“You’ve got friends already?” he realized.

“Yeah,” she nodded, intentionally giving him nothing.

“Like who?” he questioned skeptically.

“Effy. And Katie. And Karen,” she said pointedly.

“You’re friends with them?” Cook asked skeptically.

“I mean… I don’t really have friends,” she said with disdain, not a particularly social person. “But if I did, they’d be Effy and Karen. And Katie, I guess. I met Effy and Katie at a pub. Then we saw Freddie, and he spotted Karen. She told me she liked my top.”

”Fucking hell,” he remarked. “You’re one of those girls, eh?”

“‘Those’ girls meaning?” she interjected.

“You know,” he responded playfully. “The kind you mostly just have to wank to… They show you enough, but they’re usually too good to give it up to you.”

“…If that’s how you want to see it,” she said indifferently.

“You know, Wheeler,” Cook thought as he lingered behind her, “You certainly grew up nice…” he smirked, only for her to nearly shove him into the street.

*****

Cook was seated in English beside Freddie and JJ, his closest friend since childhood. There was an empty seat next to Cook, and he knew exactly what he wanted with it once he saw Tiffany Wheeler come through the door. All eyes were on her when she walked in; most of the people in the room had never seen her before, and she was certainly worth looking at.

Cook watched as even some of the people he knew were taken with her. JJ was the first to spot her, giggling awkwardly and avoiding eye contact as he realized a pretty girl had entered the room. Freddie noticed her too, but went back to pining over Effy once he realized that she was pretty, but not Effy.

Naomi spotted her, but just rolled her eyes upon seeing all the boys in the room glancing in the same direction. Emily Fitch looked at her for just a moment, while her identical twin, Katie Fitch, excitedly waved her over, pointing to an empty seat next to her.

“Hey, Tiff!” Katie called.

Effy Stonem’s cold blue eyes were trained on Tiffany, as if finally recognizing an equal.

Effy watched with great interest as Tiffany saw Katie, and smiled politely, before spotting Cook, who was now grinning and looking to the empty chair next to him. Effy allowed herself a little smirk as Tiffany knowingly walked past and sat down next to Cook, who turned to greet her pleasantly.

“How you doing, Tiff?” he asked her.

“Alright,” she shrugged.

The two of them both faced forward, separate smiles plastered on their faces.

part two.

#james cook #skins uk #skins cook #jack oconnell #skins gen 2 #skins fic #cook x reader #james cook fanfic #jack o'connell #jack o’connell fanfic #cook fanfic

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cloudycleric · 9 months

Text

Will screamed as he toppled to the ground, tripping on a tree root.

“Barb!”

Barbra turned her head, still running to see Will trying to get himself back up. She winced, swiftly turning so she could try and help Will up. “Will!”

As she ran up to him, she saw the tears running down his face, his lip now busted from the fall. She quickly grabbed Will’s arms and yanked him up, taken over by adrenaline. And then she heard it.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the tall, faceless figure, running after them from the forest. Barb started to scream as she made sure Will was able to run.

Will’s vision was hazy. All he could taste was blood. But Barb’s screams brought him back to reality, as he ran towards an empty house at the end of the street. He didn’t dare look back. He just kept running.

But he still heard those pounding footsteps.

As they reached the house, Barb had seen they had gained some distance from the Demogorgon, but not by much. The door to the house was locked as she desperately tried to get it open. “God fucking damn it!”

“Is it locked?” Will looked at her nervously, keeping an eye on the Demogorgon. A tear ran down his face.

Barb stopped trying the door knob and turned around. “Will,” she said, trying to remain calm. “You need to run. We need to split up. Otherwise it’s just going to keep finding us.”

The monster got closer.

“But Barb,” Will was trembling with fear. “I don’t—”

“Will,” she said firmly, raising her voice to a yell. “You need to go.”

She saw the faceless creature run up the driveway.

“Run!”

Will, not needing to be told again, bolted. He wiped tears as he heard Barb run in the opposite direction, the rifle clattering against his back.

The Demogorgon had chosen Barb. Will watched in terror as it approached her slowly, knowing it had backed her into a corner. Will swung the rifle around, fiddling with it just as he had before, trying to aim for the monster, but he knew it was too late. There was no getting out for her.

And like that, she was gone. A lifeless body, being torn to shreds just like she was some meat. Will did his best to hold back a scream, watching the only other person he knew to rely on die in front of him. This wasn’t hide-and-go-seek. This wasn’t some awful dream. His one ally was dead, being eaten in front of him.

“You knew Nancy?” Barb asked, laughing slightly. Though she was scared shitless, she found comfort in the fact that she had found another, living human.

“Yeah I mean, she’s Mike’s big sister. Not like we ever, y’know, talked,” Will stared off.

“Mike? Mike Wheeler?”

“Yeah,” Will looked at Barb as she smiled at him. “Did you know him?”

“I knew he was a little shit,” said Barb. “But that he was sweet. But Nancy rarely talked about that part.”

Will smiled for the first time since he had been taken. “He’s my best friend, y’know. We play DND all the time, and have sleepovers, he always has my back. We met in kindergarten.”

Barb nodded. “I didn’t get to know Nancy very well until the beginning of high school,” she sighed. “But she is my favorite person in the world. Kind of like how you describe… is Mike, uhm… your favorite person in the world, too?”

“Like a crush?” Will asked, turning red. “Nancy is your crush?”

Barb stammered. “No, I mean, well, it’s complicated…”

“My dad used to tell me that was bad,” Will looked off. “For boys to like boys and girls to like girls. But I don’t think it’s bad.”

Barb smiled at his candor. “You have the right idea, little guy. I wish everyone was like you.”

Silence fell between them.

“I don’t know if he’s my crush,” Will said, almost at a whisper, “but he’s my favorite person in the world, too.”

Barb looked lovingly at Will, almost a motherly instinct coming over her. She hugged Will from the side. “And no matter what happens—we’re gonna get out of here, okay? And we’re gonna see our favorite people in the world. I promise you. Okay?”

Will dropped the rifle, letting it swing back onto his back, and ran.

#byler #will byers #barbra holland #justice for barb #fr #my writing #this has been in my head #i wrote this on my phone so it’s not the best but yk

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highly-important · 1 year

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youtube

I recently got into this 4 year old They Might Be Giants song, “The Communists Have the Music.” Music video directed by David Cowles and Jeremy Galante with art by David Plunkert.

Linnel:

On the one hand, Fran Lebowitz memorably said of Communism vs. Fascism that one was too dull and the other too exciting. However, our song takes its cue from somebody (I can’t remember who) in our high school, who once compared two bands (I wish I could remember which bands) by declaring that one had the power but the other had the tunes. This enduring metaphor seems to apply to any pair of things we can think of.

I see a lot of people who are interpreting this very literally: that it is about someone who is interested in communism not for rational reasons, but because they’re interested in the aesthetics. I don’t think this is supported by the song.

TMBG have been making music for 30 years. Music is really important to them, I don’t think they would use it to reference something they think is unsubstantive. Music is culture, music is creative and expressive, music uses literary devices frequently. Fascism is more concerned with top-down control and uses stifling techniques on its subjects. Communism is about bottom-up control where the people are allowed to be expressive. The song focuses on music because the singer is concerned with art, human spirit, and humanity in general. A literal approach to the song is that the singer is only interested in aesthetics but doesn’t understand the substance. Taking a creatively-minded approach opens up the song to embrace it as an anthem in favor of communism and left-leaning politics.

I think some of the major themes are art vs propaganda, humanity, dehumanization, paranoia, listening, watching, identity, and of course, politics. It is about finding meaning and connection in a landscape that is trying to divide us, make us scared or angry, and dehumanize ourselves.

I think the song itself is intentionally using symbolism and leaving its message up for interpretation because of this type of backlash to these types of messages.

The music video itself is a satire of American Red Scare politics.The scare is still going today- we still can’t listen to songs or study the period without a fear of it.

Right away they dragged me to the Committee To explain my un-American activity They're gonna see they made a mistake If they'd only let me play my mixtape

No matter the singer’s intent, the Committee refuses to listen to the music, refusing to hear the message.

But, the music video is packed with people listening, only they’re listening in secret. This is a direct spoof on cold-war espionage and paranoia that led to US intelligence listening to its own citizens.

The music video draws a metaphoric comparison between spying and recording/listening to music.

Some of the listening devices are references to real-world spying devices and animal experimentation done by the CIA. A 70s CIA operation code-named Tacana explored using pigeons with tiny cameras to take photos. The CIA also tried using migratory birds to place sensors to test for chemical weapons. There was also an incredibly cruel operation called Acoustic Kitty which involved putting listening devices inside cats.

Animals are meant to be connected to nature, but the bulldog, pigeon, and cat have been turned into Frankenstein cyborgs. These technological monsters come about from the misapplication of technical knowledge and an excess of power. It is dehumanizing.

Another major theme in the video is political propaganda and the idea of watching. “The Committee” are just angry watching eyes, swarming like predators. The politicians watched on TV are disingenuous puppeteers putting on a political show. The propaganda is an endless progression of war machines and calls for violence.

“The fascists have the outfits.” A reference to Hugo Boss, who contributed to the fashions of the Nazi regime. I think that the singer is suggesting these other movements have style but no substance. The various forms of propaganda may be more enticing, but they lack humanity.

We watch propaganda, but we experience art. The act of listening is a transformative experience that connects us with our humanity. While the propaganda being pushed promotes war, hatred, and paranoia, the two spies who have been listening to each other in secret find love and human connection. The politicians seek to divide everyone, but the wall between these two has come down.

“I hear a melody and just as suddenly I know who I’m supposed to be.”

The fascist system is heirarchal, and the red scare paranoia is ultimately self-destructive as the animal spies all turn on each other. Perhaps it happened because they are all listening to the communist music, which explains why they are also dragged away to the Committee.

At the end, the singer himself is trapped in a television, which I believe is symbolic of a type of political reprogramming. His identity is now lost, and he’s only able to regurgitate propaganda.

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youtube

The Internationale performed by Billy Bragg, which the singer calls his “backing track.” The international ideal unites the human race.

#They Might Be Giants #TMBG #the communists have the music #Youtube

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