#[ swing first as questions later yanno ?? ]

[cas-skz]

FIREWORKS

Your mom decides to throw a New Years Eve party, and eagerly introduces you to her friends son. You and Changbin pop off into a new year and a new friendship.

18+ MDNI!!! plz&thnx

WARNINGS/SUMMARY: *Michael Scott voice* SEX, unprotected sex (wrap ya dingaling) oral (m to f), big peen probs (momentarily), basically kinda cute fluff into the naughty yanno

yapyapyap sorry if the spacing is weird on this, I’m on my phone posting rn but will fix later. real question I have some real wild stuff in my drafts and if u dare me I’ll post it ok. Also Jac didn’t proof read so expect errrors in grammar and spelling ok thanku

cas xx

“Mooooom, why the help would you invite him?! You exclaimed dramatically as your fingers curled a slice of meat for the charcuterie board you were working on. “Hey, his mother is a good friend of mine and you said it yourself you find him attractive.” She laughed, moving around the kitchen area setting things up for your New Years Eve party. It was the first time you’d been home for the holidays in almost 3 years, and your mom had been raving on about her friends son for at least 1.5 of them. People started arriving around 9:30pm, but you were still hid out in your room touching up your makeup. Since it wasn’t a giant party, you decided to dress casually cute and do simple make up.

“Y/N!! Can you come down, please?” You heard your mom yell. A soft groan passed through your lips as you shoved your Ugg’s on, checking yourself once over in the mirror. Your sweater was far too baggy, but it was a vintage plaid and looked really cute with your black leggings. You skipped down the stairs, a small smile in your lips as your mom stood at the bottom, accompanied by a friend and her son. Giving a small wave, you stopped at the bottom of the stairs as your mom did introductions. “And Y/N, this is Changbin. Evelyn’s son I was telling you about.” You couldn’t help but laugh when your mom gave him a nudge, “You’re so embarrassing sometimes.” You smiled, rolling your eyes jokingly. She had always been like this, and you learned to accept it finally.

Around 10:30 the party was in full swing, mainly your parents friends mingling and chatting in the kitchen, while your little brother had a group of friends gaming in the basement. You had taken to the living room with your glass of wine, watching Dick Clark’s Rockin New Years Eve on tv. “Can I get you a refill?” You heard a male ask, turning slightly to see Changbin with a fresh bottle of wine and a glass in hand. “Please and thank you.” You smile, holding your glass up for him to pour into. He joined you in the couch, and your eyes gazed over him for a long moment. You’d only seen him in pictures but in person, he was way more attractive than you expected. Before he catch you looking, your eyes shot to the tv as Miley Cyrus came on. “She looks so different now.” You commented, taking a long sip of wine as you felt your face turn red.

After chatting for a bit and letting the wine settle in, you and Changbin joined the parents in the kitchen as New Years approached. Your dad had forced you into a game of flip cup, pinning you against Changbin, who you easily beat. He threw you a little smirk, “I’ll get you next time.”

The players had switched, and you stood in the kitchen looking out into the house as the group cheered each other on. Your hand gripped the wine glass, taking a sip as you noticed Changbin starting to walk towards you. “IT’S ALMOST MIDNIGHT.” You heard your brother scream as he and he friends came running up the stairs. “He- HEY, watch yourself dork!” You yelled at your brother as he knocked past you, pushing you directly into Changbin’s large and firm chest. His arms wrapped around you, as the rest of the teens ran by, before he looked down at you. “All good?” He chuckled. You nod, fixing your hair a bit and regaining yourself, laughing shyly as you patted Changbin on the chest. “Yes. Just remind me to trip him or something later.” You laughed.

“Oh, look who’s under the mistletoe.” Your mom said from the dining room, as a wave of giggling started between her and Changbin’s mom. Your eyes glanced up, confirming it was in fact above your heads. Changbin’s hands were rested on your hips, and he gave you a small squeeze before a shy chuckle escaped his lips. “Do- uh. Should we?” He stumbled over his words, which made you blush. “Yes we should.” You say, leaning up on your tippy toes as he leaned down for his lips to meet yours. The butterflies it gave you were unexpected, but the alcohol in your system had you craving for more.

You pulled away once the whole house burst into cheers, shyly hiding yourself in your hands. Thankfully, the count down to New Years took the attention away from the two of you. Turning your attention back to Changbin, his hands squeezed your sides once again, this time pulling you a little closer to him. You didn’t mind, and let your hand rest against his chest. “New years kiss?” He asked, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

The countdown from 10 has started in the background, and you slowly nodded as one of his hands moved up your body to cup your cheek. As the clock struck midnight, his lips met yours, kissing you deeply. Your stomach did flips as you kissed back, leaning into him slightly. The alcohol was definitely having an effect on you and you weren’t sure if Changbin was feeling the same or just had plans of his own. With everyone distracted, and your little make out session quickly heating up. His lips were addicting in a way. How they moved against yours, how perfectly soft they were.

You broke the kiss, but kept yourself close so he could hear you over the crowd. “Do you wanna get some air?” You question, biting your lip gently. Changbin nods, taking your hand and quickly heading towards the backdoor. You took one last glance inside, thanking god no one had spotted you slipping out. You pointed him towards the pool house, which your parents had turned into a tiny hang out for your brother to smoke in.

Fireworks has started in the front of the house while you and Changbin quickly entered the hangout, locking the door behind you. Changbin was quick to pin you against the door, his lips finding yours again, rougher and sloppier kisses being shared. His hand found its way under your sweater, resting on your ribs for a moment as his lips moved to your neck. He placed a few gentle kisses, nipping at your skin before speaking into your ear. “Do you want to do this? I just want to make sure we’re both consenting.”

You lifted his head to look into his eyes before placing another deep kiss on his lips. “You have no idea how hot it is when a guy asks first.” You smiled. “Gotta be a gentlemen, even when you’re drunk.” He laughed, returning his lips to yours as his hand worked to unclasp your bra. His hand moved back to your breast, cupping it as his fingers twisted and played with your nipple. You ran your hand over the bulge in his pants before tugging his belt off, working your fingers to undo the buttons and zipper.

Changbin’s arms quickly swooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You tossed your sweater and bra aside, which sent a small shiver up your spine. Changbin carried you over to the couch, laying you down as he hovered over you. “I feel like a teenager.” You giggled, finger tips running along his muscular chest, down along his abs. “Sneaking around behind our parents backs.” Your fingers worked backed to his pants, pulling his lower half closer to yours. “We’re never telling our moms about this, right?” He questioned. You couldn’t help but laugh, using a finger to motion for him to come closer. You softly pressed your lips to his, “never”

Your fingers tangled into Chanhbin’s curls are his tongue slid quickly along your clit, “You taste so fucking good.” He moaned against you, sliding a single finger into your entrance. A small gasp escaped your lips when his finger started to move slowly, “Fuck-feels so good.” You moaned, your head falling back. A second finger slipped inside you as his lips met your jaw line, working their way up your neck before finding your lips. Changbin’s kisses had softened, each one sending tingles down your spine. His fingers slowly slid out and be brought them up to your mouth, pressing them gently into your lips before you sucked them slowly.

The tip of his cock pushed slowly at your entrance, teasing away but also trying to fit his size. “Might be a little too big.” He half laughed, biting his lip gently as he tried to push in. “I can handle it.” You whisper, your fingers moving to rub slow circles onto your clit. Using his thumb to guide his cock, he slowly pushed inside you, barely able to use his full length. You both moaned in unison as he slowly thrusted, each one allowing him to push deeper inside. “I’m gonna cum” you moan, letting your fingers settled as your walls started to contract. Changbin’s hips started to rock faster as you climaxed, your thighs gripping onto him as your body twitched. You pulled him close, kissing his lips roughly as you felt your body relax slightly, allowing Changbin’s thrusts to bottom out. Your walls were clenched tight around his cock, every stoke hitting perfectly.

Changbin quickly pulled out, gently taking you by the wrists to pull you gently off the couch, where he took a seat. You bent down quickly, your hand moving slowly around his shaft as your lips found the lip, placing kisses upon the bright pink tip. You sucked softly, just taking the tip into your mouth as your hand moved slowly. You placed kisses along his length before making back up and straddling his waist, using your hand to guide his cock to your entrance. You slowly eased yourself onto him, letting your hand rest on his firm abs as you slowly rode his cock, quiet curses escaping his lips as his hand slapped gently against your ass. The second round of fireworks started to ring out as your hips moved faster, wetness dripping down as you hid your face in his neck, unable to control your moans.

Changbin’s lips sucked at your neck as your legs started to shake, another climax hitting. You let your body rest on his lap, moving your lips back to his as your walls continued to contracts against his cock. “You feel so good.” He moaned, “I don’t think I’ll last much longer.” He laughed, pecking his lips into yours. His hands moved to your hips, grinding your them down into his. It didn’t take long before you came again, your walls tightening around his cock.

Your lips moved to his neck, sucking hungrily at his skin, “please cum for me.” You moaned in his ear as your hips picked up speed a bit. You leaned back a bit, looking at Changbin as you rode, smiling drunkenly at him as his hands ran over your body. He cursed quietly as his head rested on the back of the couch.

Your hands rested on both sides of his neck, pulling his head back so you could see him. His cock started to twitch inside you as his hands grabbed your hips, slamming you down onto him as his load shot deeply into you. Changbin pulled your lips to his, kissing you deeply as his hips bucked into yours before settling. You let you head fall onto his shoulder, trying to calm your breathing. “What are the odds we can sneak back to my place?” Changbin questioned with a smirk.

[desidarling123]

FATWS Episode 4: A Definitive* Rank Ordering of Most Interesting Character Arcs, from Yours Truly

(*And by definitive I mean completely subjective, but yanno.)

IF YOU HAVEN'T FIGURED IT OUT BY NOW: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR FATWS. SCROLL AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT EM.

Now let's get into it:

1. John Walker

Let me start by saying -- the near-universal John Walker hate from fandom has always been largely undeserved, and that's a hill I'll die on. It comes out of, I think, a visceral sort of need to slot him into an easily understood black-or-white binary when, truthfully, he is neither, and I think this episode was the BEST example of that. The sheer range he exhibits in such a short time -- a handful of character moments and action sequences in the larger fifty minute episode -- serve to humanize him in a way that's messy and intense and very, very real.

Because MAN. Whether you were already sympathetic to John's plight or not, the death of his partner, Lemar Hoskins, is viscerally disturbing. There's no other way to put it. FATWS has not shied away from some pretty crazy onscreen kills, but this one was arguably the worst in how brutally mundane it was. Lemar was in the wrong place at the wrong time -- a man fighting amongst a whole room of super soldiers. He never stood a chance -- and yet, he still jumped in harm's way to save his best friend, a man in whom he saw indisputable goodness, even when the man could not see it himself. There's an obvious Steve/Bucky parallel here, but with a much darker and more realistic twist -- not all of us, after all, can be lucky enough to receive super strength that could save our lives. Lemar was always a regular mortal -- and for that transgression, he pays the ultimate price.

And then. What happens after. Oh. My. God. I felt Walker's rage and hopelessness through the screen. The death of that Flag Smasher -- at the hands of Captain America, no less, a man he'd admitted to admiring as a child not ten minutes earlier -- was brilliantly executed.

With the final shot of the townspeople recording the brutal murder it becomes overwhelmingly clear -- we are witnessing the tragic fall of a man who was, for all his previous missteps, trying to be a hero. But John's moral compass just died a meaningless, horrible death -- and without him by his side, Walker has become a man unhinged.

2. Bucky Barnes and Ayo

I debated putting this one at number two because I'd argue there were some weird elements to the writing choices made (more on that in a sec), but, nevertheless. Bucky and Ayo get slot #2.

That flashback to Wakanda got me excited, but I didn't expect my heart to get shattered almost right away. Oh. My. God. His interactions with Ayo BROKE ME. There's so much nuance in a scene that’s incredibly well-acted by both Sebastian and Florence — you see both of them in a moment that is incredibly pivotal for the former’s character, and we see the latter reacting with sympathy, strength, and enormous grace. I had expected a scene like this to be with Shuri (given that we last saw her with Bucky in the post credits of Black Panther) but, given the context of what was being performed (a final test of the trigger words) having Ayo there made a lot of sense. She could take him down if need be — but as the scene so wonderfully shows, thankfully, she doesn’t have to. Instead, she’s there to let him know that for the first time in almost a century, he’s free again.

Now, let’s get into some of the unevenness. I had hoped, at the end of the last episode, that Bucky had at least informed the Dora Milaje of his liaison with Zemo — that, perhaps, it had been Bucky’s intent to hand him over all along. Alas, that was not the case — Bucky, it seems, had broken Zemo out with little thought to — or perhaps simply silent acceptance of — the consequences that would come with it.

This is the part, again, where the writing felt a bit weak. We know from the opening shots of the episode that Bucky cares enormously for Ayo — they’re not simply soldiers in arms, but they’ve shared a moment of immense vulnerability together. We ALSO know that he cares enormously for T’Challa, for Shuri, and for Wakanda as a country (see Infinity War, where he says “I love this place” in reference to his new home).

So that begs the question — why? Why did he betray them in that way, besides sheer desperation for a lead? And it’s not one, I’d argue, that we are given a satisfying answer to. Bucky has been reckless to an alarming degree in the last few episodes, but not informing Wakanda of his intention to liaise with the man who killed their king feels like a MAJOR tactical oversight. Is he willing to burn everything down to win this battle against the Flag Smashers? Are these his self destructive tendencies kicking in? OR, is he just truly so blinded by his emotions surrounding his past that he’s willing to throw away what could very well be his future? Only time will tell. But I hope he’ll do right by Ayo and Wakanda, as he clearly has a LOT to make up for.

3. Baron Helmut Zemo

God. I love Zemo’s psychotic, problematic ass. Say what you want, but the man is the most efficient of them all and he isn't a super soldier or an Avenger. Over and over, he shows that he's truly smarter than them and always has been.

He doesn't get personal. He doesn’t get distracted. He knows exactly what his goal is, and he executes on it. Mans didn’t hesitate to unload several bullets into Karli, and as soon as he figured out what the vials were, he destroyed all except one. Like I said, the most efficient person on the team. Has arguably done more to forward the cause against the Flag Smashers/continued existence of super soldiers than anyone else and it’s only been a few days. Between that, his god-awful dancing skills and him shooting the eugenicist scientist without so much as a blink of an eye, I think he's a man after my own heart. I’m almost sad to see him get what’s coming for him come next episode. (Because y’all, he did still kill King T’Chaka, and there’s no way the Dora leave here without taking him out on a silver platter and an apple stuffed in his mouth). But again, let’s see how that pans out.

4. Sam Wilson

WHAT are the writers doing to Sam, I swear to God? We didn't get too much introspection into where his head's at during this episode, and when we did the treatment felt uneven at best. I think, in trying to have him create a rapport with Karli, the writers have created some areas of commonality that didn’t always translate as they’d like. It was also weird to see Sam swinging from the well-earned cynicism of the previous two episodes to the sort of wide-eyed optimism Steve used to portray. Perhaps that was simply to try and show Karli an alternative, but as the episode showed, she clearly wasn't buying (though, in Sam’s defense, he came pretty close).

Something about Sam’s characterization in this episode didn’t really do it for me — I would argue episode one and two were both stronger in that regard. Nevertheless, I’m hopeful that they’ll correct it in the next one.

5. Karli Morgenthau

Her treatment is arguably the worst of them all. She is young, yeah, but she oscillates at an alarming rate between spouting class discourse that, by this episode, feels largely derivative (like someone scrolled on Twitter and put a bunch of keywords together in hopes of evoking an emotional audience response) and homicidal tendencies that show a brutal yet fundamentally messy underpinning. Unlike Zemo, she is still too easily confounded, and that will come to bite her in the ass sooner rather than later. (See: The Power Broker)

Perhaps I'm meant to be rooting for her on some degree but I really can't -- she's cruel and sloppy, which I cannot forgive.

Oh, and she killed Lemar Hoskins and threatened Sarah Wilson. Yikes.

Overall Episode Takeaway: A lot of shocking moments and great acting beats for everyone involved (arguably some of the best of the series thus far), but the weakness of the writing does crop up in parts. Whether they'll be corrected for going forward is to be determined...

UP NEXT: Meta pieces for Sam, Bucky, John, and Zemo all in the works!

[dayglovv]

—𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

     Guido Mista x Reader

desc: you’ve been there for Mista for as long as he can remember. that’s just what best friends do. he wants more, but is it worth sacrificing the friendship for his feelings? 

wc: 5.5k

a/n: based on the songs Fuck Up The Friendship and  Lo Que Tú Me Das! I love the friends to lovers trope, and considering I’ve been wanting to write something super long, this was the perfect opportunity to capture both. likewise, I’ve been a lil sad lately so I hope this cheers you up as it did for me 💕 please enjoy, and if you can, spare a lil extra love!! this bad boy took three days to write.

tags: cunnilingus, fingering, hand job, dirty talk, stretching, premature ejaculation, creampie, minor dom!Reader

tw: not sfw, vomiting, mentions of death and alcohol

     HIS MOTHER ALWAYS used to say that burying someone was the living’s way of returning the dead to the Earth. “Back from where they came,” she murmured. “Two meters deep — enough to have the soil hug you.” 

    He first heard it when his nonno died 11 years ago, and again when Nonna died two years later. To be honest, Guido Mista never understood what his mother was talking about.

    Not until he met you.

    You were a storm in the simple life that Mista had so carefully crafted. So full of energy, so full of life. You forced him to feel alive. Your laugh sounded like a million bells chiming in his head. Your ideas, for as dumb as they were, always matched his pace.

    For as chaotic as you were, it felt as if you had always meant to be a part of his life. Which is why he’s in the midst of dragging you back to his apartment.

    “You didn’t have to come to pick me up, yanno,” you slur, the stinging smell of alcohol laced between your words.

    “Yeah, I know.” Fuck, when did you get so heavy? He once read that babies can make themselves heavier when they’re having a tantrum, and honestly, that fits at the moment. “But Trish can’t carry you herself, so. Just shut up.”

    Trish’s text came about an hour ago.

         Trish           hey           [Name] drank a little too much and I need help :(           can you pick us up? ill pay for gas

     Needless to say, Mista was out the door 55 minutes ago. He made it to the bar 30 minutes ago. 20 minutes ago did he drop off Trish. And finally, after force-feeding you water and dabbing the sweat from your forehead, he finally made it home with your arm around his shoulders.

    You’re wearing the perfume that he bought you for your birthday. Spicy yet warm, something he found so perfect for you the moment he found it. He can remember how wide your eyes opened the moment you saw it, how you threw your arms around him and thanked him over and over again for such a thoughtful gift. He’s happy that you’re wearing it now. But that doesn’t negate how fucking pissed he is at the moment.

    That smell permeates his nostrils as he frantically searches for the keys in his pockets. The loud jangling and your heels would surely wake his landlord on the floor below. Mista clicks his tongue at the thought of another scolding — and because of you, goddammit — but he tries to push the idea out of his head. The last thing he needs is another headache.

    His front door creaks open, but with a swift kick, he shuts it back close. It slams within its hinges, causing you both to flinch. Shit. Okay, yeah, he’s definitely going to get a scolding in the morning. Though that’s not his priority at the moment.

    Mista sits you at his kitchen table. You’re still swaying, even in the chair, but he’s glad that you’re at least conscious. He removes your shoes from your feet, and taking a napkin from the table, he dabs that last bit of sweat from your forehead.

    “You’re really stupid, you know that?” Thankfully, you’re functioning, too. That’s why he’s being so mean. Partly because yes, he’s pissed, but also to get it through your thick skull. “Do you even know what time it is?”

    “Midnight thirty,” you mumble. “It’s not even that late. You’re just old.”

    Mista doesn’t even grace you with a response. He simply heaves a long sigh, then fills a glass of water for you. The water finds itself in front of you, with the gunslinger taking the seat beside you.

    But before you can drink it, your hand flies to your mouth, your feet rushing you to Mista’s sink.

    He only sighs again.

    Nonetheless, he stands up from his seat, following you to the sink. His fingers comb through your hair, pulling strands away from your sweat-soaked face. Your hair bunches together into a ponytail held only by his fist, his other hand running along your back. The warm smell of your perfume is replaced by the foul smell of stomach acid and overpriced mixed drinks.

    Christ. Even when you’re vomiting in his sink, you’re beautiful.

      ...

    Wait.

    Ew, what the fuck, Mista? Don’t be weird. You’re his best friend! The gunslinger mentally slaps himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

    It is true to an extent, though. Even when you’re messy and being so stupidly difficult, he can’t help but be in love with you. He knew that loving you would be difficult. He’s always known. You’re a tempest in his neatly-organized, simple life. Accepting you would make that life so much more complicated. 

    He’s never been good with words, but with you, he feels as though he’s being buried. Even though it’s suffocating and it’s dark and it’s scary, it’s where he’s always meant to be. Returning to the Earth as his mom used to say. Right with you.

    You’ve always been there for him. 

    Like when Nonna died. He can remember feeling you entwine your fingers with his as they lowered her casket. It wasn’t raining, but it sure felt like it. His tears wouldn’t stop coming. His nose wouldn’t stop running. And for as pathetic as he looked, you refused to leave his side.

    And at the end of the day, you gave him the most bone-crushingly tight hug he had ever had in his life. When he asked what your deal was, you only smiled and cupped his cheeks between your soft, little hands.

    “To squeeze all the sad out, dummy!”

    The least he could do is be there for you, too.

    Your drawn-out exhale brings Mista out of his thoughts. You sit up from the sink, your hands gripping its steel rim. You’re okay now, mostly sober. He’s seen you drunk out of your mind enough times to know that you are.

    “Here,” he says, reaching back to the table for the glass he brought you. “Drink.”

    You do as told. He knows that the water is too cold for your liking, which is evident enough from your flinching at the cool taste. But you still drink it, forcing down the acidity back to your stomach.

    You finish the water with a long “Ahhh!” before leaving the glass in the sink. Mista knows that your headache will set in soon, and while it’s too soon to give you any painkillers, he places the medicine on the kitchen counter regardless. Just in case you want them sometime in the night.

    “Let’s go lay down,” he continues. He swings your arm around his shoulder once more (not before flushing your mess down the sink drain, of course), and leads you to the humble living room he’s assembled behind his kitchen.

    His couch feels plush against your stiff figure. Mista leans you against the armrest, just in case your stomach acts up and you need to vomit again. The last thing he needs tonight is for you to choke and die. After everything that he’s done? Think again.

    He stands back, satisfied with his work. “Here, I’m gonna grab you something else to wear. Hold on.” But before he can run off to his closet, he feels something tug on his shirt.

    “Wait.” Your voice is raspy and your grip is weak, but it’s enough to catch his attention. “Stay with me.”

    “It’ll just be a couple seconds.”

    “Please, Guido.”

    You never use his first name. Ever since he’s asked you to call him by his last name because that’s what all the cool football players do, you’ve happily obliged. It’s the first time you’ve used his first name since you were kids.

    Mista blinks. Nonetheless, he relents, taking his spot next to you.

    You return his gesture with a smile. “Here. Let me just…” And with the dip of your head, you’re laying on his chest, your arms wrapped around his figure.

    You’ve hugged Mista several times. More times than he can count. That just comes with the territory of being friends for over five years. You’ve hugged him after nights out and many celebrations, but never like this.

    He covers his hand with his mouth, his gaze turning to anything but you. “What is with you tonight?”

    “Why are you taking care of me?”

    Ah. Ignoring his question, he sees. Mista removes his hand from his mouth, placing it on your arm and giving it a squeeze. Keep it cool, Mista. Keep it cool.

    “Because we’re friends and that’s what friends do? C’mon, [Name]. You’re smarter than this.”

    “But this isn’t the first time.” Your grip tightens. “You’ve never left me hanging. Even for all the stupid things I do, you still find me and take me home. I don’t get it. I’m not worth any of this trouble.”

    Not worth any of this trouble? If only you could see his face. His features softened as you said that, his brows knitting and lips forming a tight line. You’re worth all of this, he thinks to himself. I want to do this for you. Because I love you.

    He just can’t get himself to tell you.

    “Not to me.” He moves his hand up and down your arm. It’s his way of comforting you. He’s never been the best at it, admittedly. But he does try.

    “But you called me stupid. Shouldn’t you be spending your time on someone else?”

    “Well, yeah, you’re stupid. But your stupid meshes with my stupid, you get me? I wanna help you because I can. I’m not gonna let some other dumbass try to take care of you. That’s my job.”

    “But why? No one is forcing you to take care of me.”

    That just comes along with my feelings for you.  “Like I said, I can and I will.”

    “You don’t have to.”

    Sure, but I love you. “But I want to.”

    “I just don’t get why.”

    Because I love you. “Because I love you.”

    Wait.

    Did he just say that out loud?

    “I mean! In a platonic way! The way friends are supposed to love each other!” Mista’s desperately trying to take back everything now. That’s what he gets for narrating everything in his head. Who’s the stupid one now?

    “Mista.”

    “Love is subjective anyway, right? There are so many ways to see it.”

    “Mista.”

    “Like, how I love you is definitely not like the romantic kind of love. It’s the 'take care of your friend when they’re stupidly drunk'-type, you know?”

    “Mista.”

    “What?”

    “I love you, too.”

    “...What?”

    You sit up from his chest so that you can face him. Your legs come up from their places, folding themselves in a cross-cross. Your eyes are watching him carefully, the way that always makes him nervous. He always thought your eye color was beautiful, but seeing them look at him the way he’s always wanted them to… He’s overwhelmed, to say the least.

    You try to break the tension by offering him another smile. Mista’s shoulders relax, and he returns your smile the best way he can. 

    “I love you, too,” you repeat. He watches as you take his hands in yours, just as you did all those years ago. “I’m sorry I got mopey… I just really like you. I have for a while now. I couldn’t comprehend someone like you being there for someone like me and. Um... I wasn’t expecting you to confess, but I’m glad that you did.”

     ....Is he dreaming? This can’t be real. He has to play back everything to make sure that he heard you right.

    So there you are. Sitting across from him. Voicing everything he’s thought about back to him. You love him. He loves you. And he’s wasted years pining over you, when he could’ve had you here, with him, this whole time.

    “Are… Are you for real?” A beat. Should he just come clean now? Ah, fuck it. “I've, uh… I’ve thought the same thing about you. But you’re so smart and gorgeous and I’m just… not. I don’t have a lot to offer.”

    You don't even hesitate. “You’ve already offered me more than enough. You don’t have to be smart or rich to impress me. You’ve done so much already.”

    “I could say the same about you. You really are amazing, [Name].”

    “Pfft, and so are you, Guido.”

    There you go again, using his first name. You follow this brief moment of intimacy with bringing the gunslinger’s knuckles to your lips, leaving a soft peck on both. He’s dreamed of this moment for so long, to admit to you how much he’s loved you for all these years, only for you to steal his thunder. How typical of you. But he’s not mad. Not any more. Not in the slightest.

    And while you might have taken the spotlight on sharing your true feelings, he can at least steal the show.

    Mista takes his hand, placing it on your cheek to bring your face to his. He feels you stiffen at his touch, but you return the gesture by cupping his face with your own hands. Within seconds you’re melting, and he can’t help but smile as he kisses you.

    Funny how you did the same thing all those years ago — press your palms against his cheeks to squeeze the sad out — only for you to be doing it again. Yet this time there is no sad to squeeze out. Maybe a little, but only because he’s kicking himself for not confessing sooner.

    And God, you are just so fucking warm. You make him feel warm. So many years of friendship, so many moments he’s thought about how much he loves you and yet you still manage to give him butterflies. He loves kissing you. And he knows you love it, too. Hearing you hum onto his lips as he slips his tongue in is more than enough of an invitation to press further. He wants more.

    “I love you,” he repeats. He moves his hand from your face to the back of your head, supporting your figure as he kisses you. “I love you so damn much.”

    His kisses migrate from your lips to your cheek, then to your jawbone and finally, your neck. You take this as your own invitation to press further, moving from your spot and onto his lap. Mista groans as you do this. Fuck, that’s hot. And there’s so much more he can offer you. He knows you’ll let him. You’ve both spent far too long waiting for this moment.

    His kisses are light and delicate, as small as the baby’s breath blossoms he’d pick for you as children. He loves feeling the rumble of your moan from your throat — so much so that he’ll do anything he can to get more of it.

    So he moves one hand to your ass, while the other gets to work unbuttoning your shirt. He hums as the last button unfurls with a tiny, little pop!, and within seconds, his hand finds itself under your bra.

    “Ah… Guido…” His name sounds so beautiful on your tongue. It’s been years since you’ve used it, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever get used to it. He needs more.

    “You like that, baby?” He takes your sensitive nipple and plays with it, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. Like everything about you, it’s soft. Warm. So fucking lovely. “Say my name again.”

    “That— a-ah. G-Guido!” you manage to force out.

    That’s all he needed. Mista takes your breast in his hand, bringing that sensitive nub to his mouth. One benefit of being your best friend is that you’ve told him everything. Including how you never felt spoiled by any of your previous exes. Christ, he’s so excited to change that.

    So he laps his tongue over your nipple, suckling it, squeezing your breast with his hand. He’s so desperate to make you feel good. There were so many instances where he knew he could treat you better than your exes. Your moans are indication enough that he’s off to a great start. Such a simple sound, yet something that travels to the pit of his stomach nonetheless.

    You taste faintly of salt, likely from dancing with Trish, but Mista keeps licking and sucking and licking and sucking until your nipple is nothing but hot saliva. You whimper as your bud grows sensitive, to which Mista flickers his eyes up to you. Ugh. He forgot how cute you are. He was so focused on making you feel good that he neglected to see your lips pouting — those perfect, full lips — and your eyes shining under his dim overhead light.

    He moves to your other nipple, gaze unmoving from your face. Yet when he sees you cry out in delight, how your eyes squeeze shut and your teeth bite at those perfect fucking lips, he has to kiss you again.

    You wrap your arms around Mista’s neck as he returns his lips to yours, pulling him close to you. He wastes no time slipping his tongue in once more. It’s messy and it’s clumsy, just as he is, but it’s not like you mind, anyway. He knows you don’t. Everything about Mista is improvised. Yet being around him is what coming home feels like. Welcoming. Right.

    He pulls away just for the faintest moment, his dark eyes staring into yours. He blinks. And the goofiest smile emerges on his face. “I love you so fucking much, [Name]. And I promise I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

    “Pfft, you’re shit at keeping promises.”

    “C’mon! Lemme have this moment.”

    And with that, Mista lifts you and places you back onto the couch, facing outward. He wastes no time unbuttoning your pants, and you feel as he drags the fabric from your legs and onto the floor. Oh. Getting hasty so soon?

    “What are you doing?” you ask with a small laugh. Mista’s taking off your panties now. “Wait—”

    “Keeping my promise. Now shut up.”

    Before you can say anything else, Mista runs his tongue over your slit. You respond with another moan, and he can feel that rumble in his stomach again. He’s cursing himself for not being more patient and teasing you more but. Whatever. He’s come this far.

    So he takes your legs and swings them over his shoulders. A way to help balance yourself, he reasons, but also to feel your thighs against him. He wraps one arm around your leg to reach the fold above your clit, forcing it upwards to help maximize your pleasure. You find the other hand over your tit, his fingers at work playing with your nipple once more.

    Within seconds, Mista’s tongue is over your clit. He starts slow, lapping his tongue in long strokes along the fleshy nub. He’s trying to make up for rushing things, to make you feel as spoiled as you really deserve. He’s surprised that you’re this wet already, though not disappointed. How long had you been in love with him? How long had you waited for this moment?

    Feeling you grind against his mouth makes him reason that you’ve been waiting a while. “So greedy,” he teases. He continues with that slow pace, his fingers still at work with your nipple. He wants to electrify you with his touch. If he can make you feel as hot as you do to him, then he knows he’s succeeded.

    “Please,” you start. Your fingers wrap around his chestnut curls in a weak attempt to hasten his pace. “I want more.”

    “Hm.” He removes his hand from your breast, resting his index and his middle finger on the pad of your bottom lip. “You’ll have to do more if you want more.”

    He soon eats his words as he feels you take his fingers into your mouth. Your mouth is so warm and so wet, your tongue swirling around each finger so eagerly and salaciously. Fuck. It’s making his pants tighter. Is that what your pussy feels like? Taking him in with everything you have, opening yourself to be fucked by your best friend?

    You look so lewd with his fingers. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you bob your head, running his fingers along your own tongue. Your eyes stare back at him so innocently, so cutely, that he needs to wipe that smug expression off your face.

    In one last effort to get him to listen, you release his fingers and say, “I want more, Guido.”

    That does it. Mista takes his fingers and forces them into your tight pussy, his tongue running over your clit once more. He curls his fingers against the walls of your opening so perfectly, hitting your spongy insides in a way that makes your stomach twist. More is exactly what he gives you, with his adding another digit to your already-tight opening. He curls and he presses, again and again and again until you feel your head become light.

    “Sh-Shit,” you breathe. “I don’t wanna b-be fucked by anyone other than you.”

    His breath hitches. You know exactly what he wants to hear. The least he can do is reward you. 

    “Why d-did I wait so long f-for this?” you continue. “F-Fuck! Just fuck me!”

    If you say so. 

    He curls and he presses his fingers, running them along the walls of your pussy. He feels you clench his fingers, your thighs shaking against his shoulders. It’s the perfect view to see the quick rising and falling of your chest, your head thrown back as he finger fucks you. So beautiful, he muses to himself. And your reactions are all because of him.

    Mista’s method is, like all else about him, unpolished but entirely eager. He gets so focused on licking your clit that the movements of his finger pulses become jumbled. It’ll be seconds before he realizes that he’s still inside you, yet when he returns to the motion, that lightheadedness returns. He knows that you’re cursing him for being such an idiot, but he’s your idiot and he’s going to make you finish, anyway.

    He tries not to quicken his pace on your clit. Tufts of his hair are held by your perfect hands, a sign he takes as this being the perfect speed. Your grinding against his face is only making him more eager, though. He wants to help you finish so bad. To know that he made you cum. You waited years and years for him to fuck you, and now that he’s here, he wants to give you everything you deserve.

    “[Name],” he breathes. His voice is low in a way that you’ve never heard before, his tone rumbling against your clit. “Cum for me.”

    And that does it. A sudden wetness pools on Mista’s hand, warm and clear, as he pulls away from you. He loves how your thighs shake around his head. Even more, he loves how your eyes are shut, your mouth breathing one last uneven breath. You look even more perfect than how he imagined. 

    But he’s not done.

    And neither are you.

    Your hands rush to the bottom of his shirt, sliding it over his head and tossing it onto his rug. He responds by shimmying your unbuttoned shirt off your shoulders, your bra along with it. His lips find themselves against yours again as you feverishly undo his belt. 

    “See how good you taste?” he murmurs. You don’t say anything; your only response is your pushing Mista’s pants down his toned thighs. “Goddammit... I’ve waited too long to finally have you.”

    You’re smirking as he kisses you. He can feel it. Amongst many other things, he loves knowing everything that you like. Years of whispered secrets and quiet giggles have built up to this. He’s not going to waste it now. 

    It’s a fact that you acknowledge, too. With his boxers off, you hastily wrap your hand around his shaft. You can’t see anything with his pushing into you, his kisses desperate and warm, but. Dear lord. He feels so full in your hand. Much thicker than any of the other men you’ve been with. 

    Even still, you can’t tell how big he is. 15 centimeters, at least. Average, but you know it’s going to hurt once he inserts himself into you. It’s a thought that makes you excited; excited enough to quicken your pace in the same way that he so generously did for you.

    “A-Ah… [Name]...” His joints are so weak under your touch. And even after all this, he still can’t get rid of the butterflies in his stomach. He’s kicking himself for sounding so needy, but with your eager strokes, he can tell that you don’t mind. There are plenty of other embarrassing things Guido Mista has done in front of you.

    “You like being touched by me?” You catch his soft tone immediately. “How many times have you thought of this? How many times did you think of fucking your best friend?”

    He swallows. His head is buried in the crook of your neck now. “Too many times,” he admits.

    You’re not the only one who knows how to use your friendship to your advantage.

    Although you reposition yourself to lay on Mista’s couch, your hand remains unmoving from his cock. Mista follows by placing one leg, bent, on one side of your figure, the other standing to keep himself balanced. Curse this stupidly short couch he found on the corner of the block…

    He moans again as your grip tights, twisting slightly around his dick. He places his head in the crook of your neck again, his hot breath against your collarbone. Do you realize what you do to him? He’s had this moment replayed in his mind for so many years, rehearsed everything he would do to you. Yet the moment he gives you control, he becomes a panting mess. How embarrassing.

    “Sh-Shit…!” You’re rubbing his tip against your wet entrance now. He’s losing more control. But he has to see what you look like, to know exactly how your features twist as he fucks you properly.

    Mista pulls himself from your neck, and. His breath hitches. Not in the same way as before, not pathetic and desperate. He’s in awe. Your pretty eyes stare back at him, begging him to put himself inside you. Your cheeks are still flush from before, and God, it makes you look so damn cute. He loves that your face is still dewy, not because of the alcohol, but because of him. You’re so spent. Yet it’s obvious you want more.

    Despite all that, you take the moment from him again. You place his dick at your entrance and pull him toward you, effectively pushing him inside you. Mista’s breath hitches (just the same as before), and while it takes him a moment to compose himself, he takes this as his cue.

    He knew that being inside you would be good, but he’d never imagined it’d be this good. You feel so tight around him, so much warmer than he anticipated. Every part of your cunt squeezes his dick in just the right way. It’s evident from his uneven breathing as he thrusts in and out of you.

    “I— ah! I-I love you!” you cry. You wrap your arms around his neck in a poor attempt to settle yourself, but let’s be honest, why should you even try? He’s as thick as you thought he was, and even though it stings as he pumps into you, fuck if it doesn’t feel good—

    “Goddammit, I love you too...!” He’s never going to get tired of that confession. He could hear it a million times and it would still make his heart race. And it just makes him even harder. You want him. To be fucked by no one other than him. Only him. And he’s going to make sure he’ll be your last.

    One hand remains on the couch to keep himself steady, while the other is on your cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheekbone. Everything he’s said is true. Even if he’s pumping into you wildly, there’s still that part of him that wants to take care of you. It’s evident in his movements. 

    Mista takes this opportunity to deepen his thrusts. Despite his pace, your pussy still clings to him. He can feel it. You’re so moist under him, covering his cock in that same wetness he forced from you as he ate you out. Your cunt makes such lovely sounds as he pushes into you. And while he can feel the coolness from his apartment as he pulls out, he’s not going to deny you those long, fast thrusts he knows you deserve. After all, he wants to take care of you.

    “You were made for me,” you breathe, your pretty eyes staring back at him. “S-See how perfectly— a-ah! Shit…!” You pull him closer to you. “See how perfectly we f-fit?”

    “Yes, fuck, yes!” He’s babbling at this point now. He hardly has any control over himself. Your wetness, the sounds your pussy’s making, the slap of your ass against his thighs — it’s all so much. His head is spinning. 

    He’s given everything to you now. He quickens his pace as much as he can, driving his dick into you with such reckless abandon that your eyes roll to the back of your head. That sight alone is enough to make him tremble with excitement, though he tries to quell it as much as he can.

    “Fuck me, Guido! Fuck me!”

    He can’t take it.

    Shit.

    Oh, shit.

    No no no no—!

    It happens so fast. He’s pumping into you, and suddenly, warmth surrounds his cock. He feels it. You feel it, too.

    You blink.

    Mista blinks.

    “Did�� did you—?” you start.

    “Yep,” he answers.

    Guido Mista did, in fact, just finish inside you without any warning.

    Well. That does it. He’s ending his friendship with you, effective immediately. Out of all the embarrassing things he could’ve done, did he have to fucking finish in such an embarrassing way!? There were so many things he wanted to do with you still, like make you cum two more times, or finally know how your lips feel around his dick, or—

    “Bahahaha! Are you serious?” 

    Your laughing snaps him out of his thoughts. Of course you’d laugh at his premature finish. 

    “What?”

    “This is just so… in character of you.”

    Hold on. Did you expect this to happen? “...What do you mean?”

    You don’t respond, only shooting him a look he recognizes as your ‘you know exactly what I mean, don’t play dumb’-look. Your cheeks are still flushed, but he can’t tell if it’s from laughing or from the heated moment before. 

    Likewise, his own face is beet-red. He’s not just embarrassed, he’s humiliated. He finally has you all to himself, knowing full well that you return his feelings, and this is how he starts it. Way to go, Mista. This must be a bad omen. ...Oh, Christ. What’s going to happen when he has sex with you for the fourth time?

    But just as he can so easily read your expressions, you can read his. And before Mista can embarrass himself much further, he feels your palms press against his cheeks. You’re squeezing his face, jutting his lips out in an awfully comical way. You stifle a laugh as you do so, to which Mista raises a brow.

    “What are you doing?” he asks.

    “Squeezing the sad out,” you respond.

    Ah, yes. Of course. How could he forget?

    “Don’t worry about it, dummy,” you continue. You bring his face to yours, placing a kiss on his puckered lips. “I love you, remember? That includes all of you. All your bad jokes, your stinky armpits—”

    “My armpits aren’t that stinky.”

    “Beside the point. This is one of those moments where I love you most. It’s where you’re the most you.”

    He thinks over this for a moment. And then, “You mean that?”

    “Obviously. Now help me clean up.”

    Where he’s the most him, huh? That… says a lot about his character. He won’t dwell on it, at least not for now. The fact is that he knows you’re telling the truth is enough for him. And the fact that, even after all these years, you’re still there for him even during his most demeaning moments? Well. That says a lot about you.

    This isn’t the first time he’ll have you to himself, he admits. Hell, this isn’t even the first time you’ve slept over. There will be many more moments like these, and many more opportunities for him to make it up to you.

    For now, he’ll start by helping you off the couch and into his arms. “I love you, too,” he whispers. To you. To himself. There will come a moment where he can tell the rest of the world that [Name] [Surname] is finally his. But for now, all that matters is that you’re here, with him, in his arms and in his heart.

    And you hug him back. If he didn’t know any better, it felt like the Earth was embracing him. Bringing him back to where he came, where he always belonged: with you.

[alchemic-elric]

Muse Relationships || Accepting 

@flameleads​ asked:   [ questions about relationships prompt ] "What do you think of the Lieutenant, Edward?"

“The Lieutenant?”  Not a question he was expecting his father to ask him as tonight’s round of dinner conversation but yet here they are. Really Mustang’s never really asked him much when it came to his opinions of people.  

“I mean, she’s really nice - she’s nicer than you.” He says it bluntly but it’s almost too blunt as he stops for a moment to answer his father’s question and then he’s back to working on his meal in a matter of a few moment’s later.  A swing of washing everything down with his tea and he’s back at it again to give more detail to his statement. Edward Elric of all people has never been one for one word or few word answers. 

“She made sure I didn’t starve when I came out fer the exam n’ she’s been lettin’ m’ cook at’er place fer years. Yanno, ‘coz someone didn’t have any’hin’ ta cook with at’is place. The Lieutenant was the first onna all’a you who got ta know m’ n’ Al. We usta go ov’r there all the time. Talk, cook, n’ she helped m’ git usta ev’ry’hin’.  Whadda I think’a’er? She’s onna the most capable officers in the whole damn military.   She’s always treated m’ like an equal despite m’age. God she’s been lookin’ out fer us the longest I think. .... Not that you weren’t but you were far more - hands off ‘bout things. I ain’t blamin’ ya, jus’ statin’ facts ‘ere. 

I mean I dunno...I like’er. I like’er a lot. She’s always been real kind ta us, n’ looked out fer us. Tried ta teach m’ ev’ry’hin’ I needed ta survive. She’s not lenient but she’s understandin’. She’s got’a good heart n’ honestly I trust’er with m’life.” 

“Why? You finally gunna man up n’ ask’er out? No worries yer sons approve.”  His lips stretch out in a grin as he looks to his elder for a moment to speak, returning to a meal as if he just asked him to pass the salt. 

[chillassimagines]

The Grinch - Derek Hale Smut

(REQUESTED)

“Put those lights above the door, please!” You shouted over the music at your boyfriend, Derek. He looked at the lights you pointed at and sighed.

“Those don’t even match the others, Y/N!” He spoke loudly over the noise. You rolled your eyes and reached over to the speaker and turned your Christmas playlist down.

“Derek, the door has its own decorations that will match.” You gestured to the box next to the lights which contained the door decor you purchased. Derek didn’t say another word, he just picked up the lights and went over to the door with some clear tape. You turned your stereo up, but not as loud as before, then turned your attention back to the little Christmas figurine village you were setting up on your tv’s entertainment stand. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that Lydia was calling you.

“Y/N, do you wanna make Christmas cookies with me tonight? We’ll probably eat them all at a future sleepover with cocoa and Christmas movies, but that’s besides the point-“

“I totally would Lyds, but I’m doing decorations the rest of the night with Derek,” All of a sudden your lover yelled a terrible roar. You damn near dropped your phone as you turned to see what happened. Half the lights were above the door and the other half was swinging, looking as if they had just come out of place. “...and that may have to stop, I’ll call you later, Lyds.” You hung up the phone and stared at Derek’s back for a second. “Babe-”

“What the hell am I doing all of this for anyway? We’re not five years old anymore, Y/N. We can move past all this childish waste of time and money!” Derek proceeded to rip the remaining lights off of the wall. You rushed to his side and picked up the lights.

“Derek, don’t be a Grinch-”

“If you call me the Grinch one more time, Y/N...” Derek closed his eyes as his nostrils flared in anger. You tossed the lights on the couch and reached out to touch Derek’s arm.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that, but Derek, you said you would help me put these up. I don’t want you feeling upset for the whole month of December. I thought you’d like that we were doing this together, yanno?” Derek’s eyes opened and you almost sighed in relief at not having to be faced with his alpha eyes.

“We could be doing millions of other things together that aren’t completely pointless.” He grumbled, staring at you with no compassion. You bit the inside of your cheek, but you couldn’t bite back your words.

“At my grandmas we would go and help her put up decorations every year. This year, the year I’ve decided to spend Christmas with you, I’m not doing that. I wanted to do it with you, maybe start a fucking life together or something?” You drew your hand away from his skin and picked up a little figurine. You looked at it for a millisecond before launching it into the wall, creating a hole. “Waste of time and money! Just fucking destroy it then, won’t matter.” You stormed over to the previously discarded lights and tossed them on the floor to stomp on them.

“Y/N, stop.” Derek’s hand grabbed your elbow and you turned to him, resisting to swing at him.

“So what? You get to be angry whenever and I just get to hold my shit together?” You asked with a raised eyebrow, challenging him. He paused before sighing and running his hand through his hair.

“No...I just, damn Y/N. You’re too much like me.” He mumbled the last part, but you heard him loud and clear. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his large hands in yours.

“I don’t wanna fight right now. This holiday is meant to be about sharing happy times together. I don’t wanna remember our first Christmas experience together as me fighting to give you the same joy I experience around this time. Please try and share good memories with me?” You looked into his eyes without using your puppy eyes, though you were tempted.

“Yes.” Derek eyes shifted quickly. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Yes? Okay, yeah, cool. Easier than I thought, but not complaining-” He interrupted your rambling by ravaging your lips with his. You nearly stumbled back, but his hands slipped around you to pull you to him. Your hands found his shoulders on instinct and let his kissing consume you.

“We’re gonna make a damn good memory, Y/N.” Derek broke from your lips to say and he lifted you up over his shoulder. “Ho ho fucking ho, baby.” You could barely register what was going on, but his last line made you giggle. He responded with a slap to your ass as he carried you upstairs to his bedroom.

“Derek!” You scolded his smacking habit and could picture the smirk on his face. He tossed you onto the bed like a rag doll and stripped himself of his shirt and sweats. You almost yelled again at being man handled, but the sight you received could have made it worth it. He literally ripped your Christmas pj’s off of you after though. “I’m going to kill you, Hale!” You shouted in shock. He grabbed your ankles and yanked you down the bed. He discarded your panties, thankfully actually knowing better, and immediately placed his tongue along your pussy.

“Memories.” He whispered while looking in your eyes before wrapping his warm lips around your clit. Your mouth fell open while watching his movements. His thumbs spread your lips apart so he could continue his torturous process by kitten licking your bundle of nerves.

“Oh god.” You whimpered and threw your head back. You hips began to buck up into his mouth which he wouldn’t accept.

“You wanna move, huh?” He parted his sweet lips from your heat and sat on the bed. He picked you up and placed your heat right on his muscular thigh. “Then fuckin move.” Your mind ran blank for a good 30 seconds, not comprehending the position shift and the pleasure that was stolen from you so quickly. He placed his hands on your waist and dug his fingers almost painfully into your skin. “I won’t say it again.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and began grinding your slick core against his thigh. You didn’t know you could love the friction it provided.

“Oh shit, this feels good, Derek.” You leaned your head down and Derek placed his lips against your forehead.

“I bet it does, princess. You gonna be able to cum on my leg?” He asked huskily and his voice alone made you more wet. You nodded vigorously.

“Oh yes. Just-just keep talking to me.” His hands moved under your shirt to grip your breasts.

“Now how did I not know you liked dirty talking? You like me asking how my hands feel?” Both if Derek’s hands began rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Mhmm. They feel so rough, so big. So-fuck!” He pinched the nipples harshly, making your hips stutter against his leg.

“Want me to fuck you like that?” You whimpered in response to his raw question. Your head fell down against his shoulder as you began grinding faster. “Answer me.” He pinched your nipples hard again, making you yelp and whimper in pleasure some more. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond as your orgasm was so close. Derek lifted his hips and pulled his rock hard length out of his boxers. You quickly sunk down on top of him before he stopped you.

“Cum, inside of me, please.” You begged between heavy pants as you began riding him. Derek’s jaw went slack as he watched your pussy take him raw.

“Don’t fucking worry, princess.” He fell back onto the bed from his sitting position and grasped your ass cheeks in his hands to move you faster than you ever could move onto his dick.

“Ugh, oh shit, I can’t! Slow, fuck fuck fuck!” You were fully aware of your screeching in his ear, but you couldn’t control it as your body uncontrollably convulsed on top of him.

“Say my name!” He growled and took one hand to your throat so you were forced to look into those big bright red eyes. Your eyes rolled back into your head at the overstimulation.

“Derek!” You cried in a broken voice. His hand released your throat and pressed your chest to his as he went rigid and came inside of you. You literally couldn’t move for a solid 5 minutes before he said anything.

“Good enough memory for you?” He whispered in your ear as his fingers ran through your hair.

“I’m not gonna be able to move off of you by myself, so yes.”

[one-spidey-boii]

BUMMER SUMMER || peter parker; ch nine

read ch eight here

masterlist

an; i’ve really struggled with juggling all my responsibilities lately so please forgive me. i just ate questionable fried rice and i’m feeling mediocre at best. have a great day you guys.

warnings; mentions of battle wounds (i.e. blood/scars/etc), smut, mature language, fluff, angst, both peter and oc are 18+!!

word count; 3.1k+

edie's pov

i take in a deep breath and click the call button on my phone after hovering over it with my thumb for a few long and painful seconds. i slowly bring it up to my ear. on the third ring, a small click sounds on the other end.

"ah! you're still alive. yippee!" tony's voice chirps jokingly at me from wherever he and the rest of the avengers were staying. i sit up in my bed and play with the end seam of my shorts.

"i am..." i trail off awkwardly, not entirely sure what to say to the man. he's making me call him everyday, and i don't know how long it's going to last, but i'm already running out of things to tell him at this point. i'm healing, my bruises are fading, the pain is subsiding.

"is peter treating you right?" he asks. i gulp at his question, remembering the moments peter and i shared only a day ago.

"u-uh yeah, wait- um what do you mean?" i stutter out, mentally kicking myself.

"i mean, is he taking care of you? yanno, making you chicken noodle soup or hot chocolate and giving you back massages- actually scratch that last one, i don't wanna think about that." he rambles on, my face flushes and i pull loose pieces of fabric off of my shorts completely in panic. no way can mr. stark find out about peter and i...whatever we are.

"hey! it's not like that." i mumble, doing my best to cover my nerves.

"yeah, sure it's not." tony retorts back with a snort, his voice just above a whisper. i'm at a loss for words, "uh, pfft, yeah, it's not."

"i don't care either way- well, that's a lie, i care a little bit. just keep healing and make sure peter stays sharp out there." i squirm in my spot and continue to update mr. stark on my condition, eager to get off of the phone.

with a final 'goodbye' and 'don't do anything stupid'- he ends the call and i flop back down on my bed. my side only slightly aches when i move now, becoming less of an annoyance and more of a numbing feeling.

i glance around my room at my fresh yellow walls. the color brightens the space and brings a warm feeling to the pit of my stomach. but my bed is still in the middle of the room, making me feel open and vulnerable on all sides. with one big huff i roll out of bed and plant my feet at the end of the frame. i give one push with both hands and the bed goes skidding back to the wall. in the process, my side cramps up and a burning sensation pushes its way through my body, making me wince.

"you okay there?" a soft, yet teasing voice speaks up from behind me. i dip my head down between my arms still placed on the bed and peek at the intruder through my legs from upside down. peter stands there, a lazy smirk spread across his lips. i roll my eyes and flip my head back up to turn around and face the boy.

"absolutely. i don't always need your help, parker." i reply and lean against the end of my bed. after the alarm went off last night, peter and i spent our time making food until he had to go out on patrol, more hesitant that ever to leave. none of us said a word about the disturbance, despite my suspicions. he returned late in the morning, later than his usual schedule. and when he did get back, he went straight to sleep, not even making it to his room. he stayed fast asleep on the couch until late afternoon. i guess he came straight to me after he woke up.

it's only been two days since i've been out, but my body is growing restless at the lack of adventure. jealousy poked at heart knowing that he would be the one seeing and protecting the city until mr. stark deemed me ready to get back out there.

i push the feeling away, not wanting to focus on things i have no control over.

peter takes a few steps closer to me, speaking playfully, "so, mr. stark gave me a call today. he wanted to know if i was taking care of you." once his body reaches mine, his fingertips immediately move to trail along my hips, "what do you think, wolfie? am i taking good care of you?" his voice lowers the closer he leans in.

i gulp audibly at his question, thinking back to my own conversation with mr. stark. my eyes meet his and i can’t t form any words under his gaze. so i just nod sheepishly at him, it seems to be the only thing i can do lately. peter's mouth curls into a satisfied smirk and it makes my stomach drop into my feet. an overwhelming surge of heat passes through my body and i have to lean back farther into the mattress for support.

peter and i didn't really talk about what had happened yesterday. at the time, it didn't seem weird or out of the ordinary. it felt natural, good. now that we've—i've—had time to think about it, well, i don't know what to think. i don't even know what to say to him. it's embarrassing how much control he seems to have over me, after so many years of being able to joke around as friends.

now his closeness makes my heart squeeze both in adoration and frustration. i'm angry at how fast he's able to make me melt into his hands. i used to tease and make him blush, now he somehow turned the tables. just add that to the list of things i can't control.

peter leans in, close enough to pepper a soft kiss to the corner of my lips, "i gotta head out, but i'll be around." he pulls away and points to his ear, where his comm rests.

"see you around." i say with a level voice, now too focused on gaining a hold of myself to be sweet with him. he drops his remaining hand from my hip, choosing to ignore my change in demeanor. with a small wave that reminds me of the nervous boy he used to be, he turns the corner and i'm alone again.

my skin is buzzing. the feeling is mostly concentrated on where peter's fingers had been, but it's spreading quick. needing a distraction from the feeling, i change out of my comfy clothes into something a little more suited for action. i rumble through my luggage and pull out a black sports bra with leggings to match. before i leave, i shove my own comm in my ear.

after making my way to the training room, i set up a few different targets. the first one is a simple circle with three red rings spaced around a red center, i place it firmly on the ground. the next one is the same, except this time i suspend it into the air, letting it sway back and forth. the last one is a little different. it's human shaped. as a fighter who refrains from hurting people as much as possible, i'm hesitant to set this one up. but after what i went through, i need the practice on a human target.

i flip through my phone and search for some music to get my energy up, i connect to the speakers that run throughout the house and crank up the volume. the bass of the music cancels out the continuous buzzing through my body, allowing me to shake the tension away. i stretch in front of the mirror before pulling a table to the far side of the room, opposite the targets.

on the table i set out an array of throwing knives, each one reflecting the fluorescent light from the high ceilings. i run my hand over the edge of one knife in particular before grabbing the handle and nailing the middle of the hanging target in one fluent motion. the knife sticks out from the center as the momentum violently swings the target in the air.

i take in a deep breath and pick up two more, one in each hand. i throw both at the same time, hitting the grounded target side by side with barely an inch between them. i continue to practice on the two targets, using up all the knives on the table in the process. i'm sweating and panting as i go to collect them and start again. i let my eyes pass over the human shaped target, but i quickly look away and focus on the other two once again.

after ignoring the last target for what seems like forever, i stop myself mid throw as i notice how shredded the others have become. i drop my arm to my side and use my other hand to turn off the music.

the silence of the room makes the pounding in my ears almost unbearable as i scope out my last challenge of the night. the lifeless figure has no face. it's only the silhouette of a head and torso, a simple shape. despite the fact, i can still see the features of one person in particular.

i raise my hand and ready myself to throw the potentially deadly weapon held in my grasp. i can feel my heart rate pick up and i stare down the figure before me.

a female, seemingly innocent.

my breathing grows heavier as i fall back on the memories of that night, only a few days ago.

she looked scared, all i wanted to do was help.

my stance falters at the thought. my eyes clouding over as i grit my teeth and shake my head to snap myself out of it.

"see what happens when you try and help people?"

with a grunt, i charge at the inanimate target before me. my legs cross the floor in three simple strides as i jump up to plunge the knife into the head of the target. i slide down and i hold the knife tighter in my grasp, letting it slice all the way down the figure, nearly severing it in two. i drop the weapon.

with heavy breaths, i turn to grab another human shaped target. i kick the other one out of the way, replacing it with the new one.

i try different attacks, needing to set up a new target every time i 'kill' the last one. i do it again, and again, and again- picturing the same face every time.

peter's pov

i can't just come out and tell edie i'm searching for the people that attacked her. but i can't come up with any explanation as to why i'm staying out so late—err, early? i don't know. i do know that every second i'm not out here looking, it's becoming more and more dangerous for her. it scares me.

the sun is peaking out from behind the tall buildings of the city. i spent the entire night staking out two people specifically, but no such luck. now i'm sat atop a building, hesitant to call it a day and go back to edie. but, oh boy, i want to see her. thinking about her makes my heart swell, and now that i'm finally able to show her how i feel, it seems like the whole world let out of sigh of relief for me.

i like the way she reacts to me. it being a huge contrast to the playful, witty banter that we used to share exclusively. now, when we get close- i'm the one who takes control. it's a weird change of pace between the both of us, but i don't mind it one bit. it’s almost like i crave it.

once making the decision to go back to the compound, i swing myself across the city, eager to see edie. i get to the door and press a suit covered thumb over the touch screen. the glass door slides open and i slip into the cold air of the compound, making sure the glass shuts and locks behind me before i go any further.

i pull the mask off my head and stumble into the living room, hoping edie is somewhere close. when i don't see her, my face drops and i turn to jog down the hall towards her bedroom. not finding her again, i raise my hand to the comm in my ear and speak.

"e, you there? where've you run off to?" i turn on my heel again to step into my room down the hall. as i do so, her voice floods through my head.

"training room." she utters, her usual soft voice sounding hardened and cold. i quirk an eyebrow up as i change into more comfortable clothes, confused by the girls tone. nevertheless, i finish up and trot over to her.

as i round the corner, my eyes settle on her standing in the middle of the room, rolling her shoulders back with a knife in her hand. i stand quietly and watch her movements, hesitant to step in and become an accidental target. edie raises her arm to throw and adjusts her feet into a low stance. so quickly, i almost miss it, the knife flies through the air towards a human shaped figure. to my surprise- it clatters against the target and falls to the floor.

she lets out a groan and pulls at her hair, muttering profanities under her breath as she turns to see me staring. her body stiffens under my gaze and slowly she lowers her arms to her side, a doe-eyed expression on her face.

"you're back." she mutters. i take a few steps into the room and gulp at what i see. targets similar to the one she just attacked are shredded and thrown across the room in piles. there must have been fifty of them, each one damaged in a different way.

looking back at her, i force a smile on my face, "you've been busy, yeah?"

her eyes follow the path mine took and she shrugs, indifferent, "mhm. training." i nod hesitantly.

"have you slept at all?" i pipe up, curious at how long she has been here.

"not really, no."

another nod, and i shuffle over to the table that holds her collection of weapons. i'm impressed with her skills, seeing as she has no 'super powers'. but damn, she could take anyone down in seconds. i admire the girl in front of me, hoping she knows just how much i do. not long after, a bug of curiosity wiggles around my stomach.

"do...you think you could teach me?" the words slip out of my mouth before i can think of the consequences. edie looks at me with a stoney expression that makes my heart jump. i regret my words immediately, afraid that i offended her or something.

i try to take it back, "i mean- only if you want! i know it's stupid so you don't..."

the devilish smile that creeps along her face shuts me up, "i'll teach you."

i let out a small breath, "o-okay. i should probably go change." i say as i look down at my baggy clothes and compare them to her tight fitted ones. edie shakes her head and waltzes up to me, the smug smile still gracing her lips. i grow nervous, realizing i'm in her territory now. this is her thing, so i force myself to hand over the reigns.

she gestures to the rows of knives on the table, "take you pick, parker." her cool and confident voice sends a small shiver down my spine. i look closer at the table and gingerly run my fingers along each sharp edge. i stop at a knife with a shiny black blade and red handle and i pick it up to feel the weight of it in my hand. the blade isn't metal or steel and it has small ridges on the surface. i bring it closer to examine it even further.

"that's obsidian, black volcanic glass. it was used a lot in the stone ages," edie takes the knife from my hands and twirls the point on the tip of her finger, "it's sharper than steel, and nowadays surgeons use it in their scalpels...good choice, peter." she smiles up at me. i can feel my cheeks flush. she places it back in my palm and struts to the center of the mat, "we'll start close, hopefully you can hit the target. how's your aim?"

i roll my eyes at her taunting words and walk over to her place on the mat. edie strolls around me in circles, observing my body language- which is less confident than i'd like to admit. she stands in front of me and plants her hands firmly on my hips, twisting them into a desired position. next, she does the same with my shoulders, all the while sticking her tongue out in concentration.

then she comes to the knife in my hand and pulls it away, only to place it back and wrap my fingers around it one by one. it immediately feels more comfortable in my hand. she circles me one more time and hums in satisfaction at her work.

"now, obsidian is brittle, so it's really important to make your shot count or else you risk breaking the blade," edie comes back around my front and leans in close, her finger resting under my chin, "don't break my blade." she threatens with a smug smile curling at the edge of her lips. i can't stop my eyes from dropping down to look at them, and she notices.

edie traces her finger along my jaw line, making me shiver once again. i groan at the lack of control over my body and my eyes widen at the sound. she just smiles and lets her hand fall down my chest to finally rest at her side before taking a step back. she points behind her to a circular target a few yards away.

"give it a go." her voice grows softer, encouraging me to make a move. i tighten my grip around the knife and raise my arm to chuck it at the target. i stop short.

"could you...maybe show me first?"

|| taglist; @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @whycantileaveyou @lovewolfspirit @kitykatnumber @franksholland @goddamnit5sos @thehugslut

[engineeringenigma]

Let’s Write an Acceptable Cover Letter!

I have a friend who’s looking at job searching, I am Way Too into job search advice, and I just took a bunch of caffeine to try to deal with this migraine, so let’s go over “I want to write a cover letter but AGH!”

First, I owe basically all my knowledge to Alison Green over at askamanager.org, and she has some great advice! But all her cover letter examples are basically “let me explain how I’m the perfect candidate for this job” which requires you to, yanno, be the perfect candidate for the job, and that doesn’t usually happen. (Alison would probably say that you should try to apply for jobs where you’re as close to a perfect candidate as possible, but that just doesn’t happen a lot of the time. Especially if you’re newer at this!)

If you wanna check out her advice, though:

https://www.thecut.com/article/how-to-write-a-cover-letter.html

https://www.askamanager.org/2014/02/heres-a-real-life-example-of-a-great-cover-letter-with-before-and-after-versions.html

https://www.askamanager.org/2019/04/heres-a-real-life-example-of-an-excellent-cover-letter.html

(She also tends to like one or two effusive statements that are what I’d call “sales-y”, but that might be an “I’m an engineer” issue.)

Now, for over in adequate-person land, you want your cover letter to tick four boxes:

- It should exist (more than three sentences for an extra credit point)

- It shouldn’t be full of typos/grammatical errors

- It should clearly be written with the job you’re applying to in mind (sorry, no mass-market cover letters, and especially don’t have fill-in-the-blank sections in a different font)

- It should say at least ONE thing not on your resume

We’re not trying to be Masters Of Job Applications here, we’re just trying to get past the “AGH COVER LETTER” step. If that sounds More Doable Than Expected, read on!

So our goal here is that a cover letter takes about 30 minutes to write (the first few might take a little longer while you come up with some examples!) and that 30 minutes is broken down into easy chunks. This is Many Steps BUT the intention is that you can do one step, and then stop, and then come back and do another step later.

STEP ONE:

So easy stuff first: read the job posting! Do they request a cover letter? Do they tell you to do anything specific in your cover letter? Make a note of that and make sure you do it!

STEP TWO:

Now, you want to answer at least THREE of the following questions:

Why are you applying to this job posting instead of a different job posting?

What do you like about the company you’re applying to?

What part of the job are you the most excited about?

What is one thing that you’ve done in your life that has prepared you for some part of this job? (bonus points if that thing happened at a previous job)

What is one thing you’re good at that this job needs someone to be good at? (bonus points if you have a one or two sentence example of you being good at that thing)

What is one particularly awesome thing you did at a previous job that is at least tangentially related to what needs to get done at this job?

What is something on your resume that doesn’t seem relevant at first glance, but you can explain how it is?

(The ‘one thing’ questions can also be answered more than once! That is also bonus points.)

Some tips that may or may not be helpful, depending on your personality!

- Think about each question for three minutes. If you can’t think of an answer in three minutes, move on to the next one. (Coming back later is optional.)

- Try to answer a given question for 3-5 different job postings. That gives you a range for ‘well at least in THIS job I’d be good at [X] and for THIS company I like [Y]. Remember your answers/examples don’t have to be perfect, they just have to exist!

- Think about stuff you’ve done that you’re proud of and make a list of that! See if any of that answers any of the questions. Trouble with that? List all the stuff you’ve done in a job. Any job, if you did it, it goes on the list.

- Reuse your answers from posting to posting! It’ll get easier after the first few.

- If you really can’t answer ANY of the questions, this job might not be a good fit for you. That’s ok! (But remember that your answers don’t have to be perfect!)

This is the hardest step! If you made it this far, good job!

STEP THREE:

Sort your answers into rough categories- “why I want this job” and “why I’d be good at this job” are the two that come to mind. “Why I want this job” could be one paragraph and “why I’d be good at it” could be two or three. Just kinda mush them all together for now but try to figure out what order you’d say them.

STEP FOUR:

Ok, now make your answers complete sentences and throw in some connecty stuff to make it flow a little better. “I also have experience with...” “In addition...” Keep in mind, you don’t have to be High Formal English Businesses Words! (not being Super Stilted Writing is better if you can swing it)

STEP FIVE:

Put it down for somewhere between 30 minutes and 24 hours and come back to it. (You can skip this step if you don’t think it’d be helpful, or if the posting is only gonna be up for so long, or you just want to GET THIS PROCESS OVER WITH.)

STEP SIX:

Re-read the thing. Do you sound like a Reasonably Human Person? (Check for rambling, abrupt transitions, or  awkward phrasing.)

If it’s more than one page, cut whatever you think is the least persuasive. If it’s nowhere near one page, don’t worry- remember, your goal is a letter that exists!

Try to avoid sounding (a) like an infomercial or (b) like you are not worthy of hiring. (If any part of your cover letter sounds like “I totally get it if you don’t want to interview me but”, skip everything before the ‘but’)

Typo check! Spell check is good.

STEP SEVEN:

Put “Dear Hiring Manager” at the top (or “Dear so-and-so” if the posting specifically says ‘address to X person’ or ‘X person is the hiring manager for this position’ and your name at the bottom. “Sincerely” is a good sign-off that implies nothing and doesn’t detract.

STEP EIGHT:

Take a deep breath and submit it!

STEP NINE:

PARTY YOU DID IT.

STEP TEN:

Keep trying! Amazing people get rejected all the time for lots of different reasons, and it can absolutely take multiple applications to get an interview, let alone a job!

[themyskira]

The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #3

Previously: Carol has spent the last nine months listening to early-2000s emo music while watching herself cry in the mirror, basically.

She let her brother get in a car accident, then made his brain injury all about her.

She found out something private about her parents’ relationship problems, and made that all about her as well.

She discovered an alien device among her father’s possessions, but she couldn't find a way to wring family drama out of that one, so she ignored it.

Now the alien device has enabled a Kree cyborg assassin to track her and her mother down, and it almost (but not quite) forces the two of them to have an actual conversation.

This is the issue where things really kick into high bullshit.

(No talk of family violence in this one, thankfully, but love interest Louis goes into some creepy, coercive Nice Guy territory.)

Dishwasher continues to be the shittiest stealth assassination unit ever.  Having already conspicuously crash-landed, murdered two people and caused a gigantic explosion on a major highway, it has stolen a boat (so probs another murder in there as well) and is drawing further attention to itself by speeding so erratically around Harspwell Sound that it almost capsizes a smaller vessel.

But who could possibly see past this cunning disguise?

Carol, meanwhile, is apparently psychic. She thinks to herself,

I can’t get away from the feeling that something is wrong. I woke up in a panic this morning, reeling. For a split second, I couldn’t remember… What had happened? What terrible thing? Why was I spinning?

Because you’re trying to wake up from this nightmare of a comic?

She decides to let off some steam by running, which is apparently something that has always helped her clear her head.

This leads into a flashback of a SUPERNATURALLY FAST YOUNG CAROL OUTRUNNING A GODDAMNED TRUCK.

fuckin WHAT.

We will later find out that Carol, being half-Kree, was always naturally faster and stronger than the average human (though it wasn’t until the Psyche-Magnitron ‘jumpstarted’ her Kree powers that she got the full superpowered package).

That’s what we’re told. Except Margaret Stohl and flashback artist Marguerite Sauvage go so hilariously over-the-top in their portrayal of Carol as a child, so what we end up seeing is a newborn infant with such an iron grip that she causes her father GENUINE PAIN, and a fourteen-year-old girl who can OUTRUN MOTOR VEHICLES.

And yet, supposedly neither she nor anybody else around her twirled that there was anything out-of-the-ordinary about her??

In the present, Carol is snapped out of her reverie to discover that she is jogging mid-air.

Louis: Whatcha up to? Get it? Up to? Carol: Um… Calm down. Get it? Down?

So, we’ve all seen some version of this trope, right? The stressed-out super-person goes to the gym to take out some of their tension on a punching bag, only to unintentionally lash out with their full power and send the bag flying clean across the room, something like that.

What weirds me out about this iteration is that— jogging does not logically bleed into flying. They’re different forms of movement, presumably requiring the exertion of different muscles and associated with different physical sensations. It’s not so much ‘super-person unthinkingly hits the punching bag so hard they pulverise it’ as it is ‘super-person unthinkingly turns their punch into a cartwheel mid-swing’.

Carol and Louis talk. He suggests that “Maybe it’s time ta drop the Mystery of the Old Lettahs, Nancy Drew”.

WHAT MYSTERY. THERE IS NO MYSTERY.

I mean, no, it turns out there is a mystery because the letters were really written to Carol’s mother, who is a secret alien, but CAROL has no reason to know any of this as yet. As far as she’s concerned, the extent of the mystery was ‘ohshit dad had an affair? does mom know?? how will I tell her?? should I tell her??’ And then her mum was like, ‘yep I knew, ‘scool’. MYSTERY SOLVED. THE END.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, this family has a bucketload of issues to work through, but those letters don’t particularly factor into any of them.

Carol wonders what else she didn’t notice about her family.

“Were we normal, Louis? Did I even seem normal? Or… yanno… was there something funky about me too?”

You mean aside from the fact that you could run faster than a speeding pickup truck?

But of course this is Louis’s cue to confess that he’s had a crush on her since he first laid eyes on her… which he does by faintly negging her, because Louis is a turd.

“All those brains and you never figured that one out? You were the only thing I noticed, most days. … You’d hafta be stupid dense to miss that.”

Louis takes Carol’s hand and moves in for the kiss, just as Carol begins to hear a small but insistent beeping that sounds like a distress beacon. Louis handles it SUPER WELL.

Bear in mind, this scene is presented as humorous and cute.

[Louis goes in for the kiss] Carol: Wait— do you hear that? Louis: Shh. I’ve been picturing this since I was 14…

So straight away, Louis is viewing and treating Carol like an object — not an equal partner in this scene but a vehicle for his sexual fantasies. Carol is not enthusiastically consenting. She’s asking him to wait. She’s visibly distracted and concerned. His response is ‘shut up, you’re spoiling my boner’.

Carol: [leaning back from the kiss] …is that a car alarm? Some kinda distress beacon? Am I just freaking out because my childhood friend is, like, millimetres from planting one on me?? Louis: …but with less talking…

We are just going to zoom on past this atrocious dialogue because we do not have the time.

The important thing is, Carol is visibly uncomfortable and Louis does not care. Carol is making it clear that (a) she’s distracted and not in the moment, (b) she’s concerned someone might be in trouble and she may need to get her superhero on and (c) she’s panicking a little at the prospect of kissing Louis. This is the point where any decent person would back off and ask if she’s okay, if she wants this, if she wants to slow down, if she needs to go do the superhero thing.

Louis, who let me remind you is supposed to be a likeable love interest, again tells her to shut up with an aside that she’s less talkative in his sex fantasies.

Carol: [pulling right back in concern as the beeping grows more urgent] Hold that thought. Definitely not a car alarm. Louis: [visibly irritated now] …way less talking.

AND LOUIS TELLS HER TO SHUT UP AGAIN.

Carol: [flying into action] Something’s happening…! Louis: [kicking a stone sullenly] I know, I’m the guy tryna make it happen…! [sighs loudly]

Louis is a classic fucking Nice Guy.

He thinks that because of their recently-rekindled childhood friendship, because he’s listened to her troubles and offered a shoulder to cry on, because he’s finally managed to engineer this romantic moment alone — he’s therefore entitled to Carol’s love. So when Carol keeps pulling away from his increasingly pushy advances, she’s the one being unfair — he’s trying so hard to “make it happen” and she’s not giving him anything in return!

The fact that he’s whining about Carol not reciprocating literally as she leaps into superhero mode and flies to investigate a potential threat makes this particularly laughable, but there are no circumstances in which this behaviour is okay.

In every panel, Carol is sending clear signals that she wants to stop or slow down, and Louis responds by trying to pressure her into doing what he wants — first by shushing her, then by belittling her for talking too much, and finally by sulking and blaming her.

AGAIN. THIS IS THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTEREST IN THIS BOOK. CAROL IS SUPPOSED TO LIKE HIM. WE ARE SUPPOSED TO LIKE HIM.

WHAT THE F U C K

Carol traces the sound to the family home and realises that it’s coming from the garage. When she gets there, Marie — apparently the only other person who can hear the beeping, is in a frantic state. She’s found the source — the obviously extraterrestrial device Carol found, inadvertently activated and promptly forgot about back in issue 1 — and she’s super worked up about it.

“It shouldn’t be here! […] It wasn’t his. I don’t even know why he kept it… this piece of junk…”

Okay so first of all, you do know why he kept it, that is a lie. Next issue we’ll find out that the device is a beacon through which the Kree military could track and communicate with operatives like Mari-Ell/Marie. When Marie decided to desert the Kree military and commit to raising a family with Joe on Earth, she gave him the beacon as a gesture and they switched it off together.

Obviously he was going to keep it. He wouldn’t have been capable of destroying it and it’s clearly not something you can throw in the bin. Marie could have destroyed it and ensured that it could never be inadvertently switched on — say, by her dumbass daughter — and used to track them both down, but I guess incompetence runs in the family.

Carol asks who the obvious alien technology belonged to if it didn’t belong to Joe, and Marie screeches that “IT BELONGED TO HER!”

Of course, she needs to say that — she has to keep up the pretence that this is all about an imaginary mistress and not about her and Carol being aliens — because Stohl doesn’t want to give away the game yet. But the question is, why would she at this point?

Marie is a deserter and a fugitive from the Kree military. She knows that, were the Kree ever to track her down, she would be summarily executed for treason. She has just discovered that her beacon — the one surefire way the Kree have of locating her — has been activated and is now beeping insistently. Knowing how the military operates, she should know that the Vacuum Kleaner is on its way to kill her and her family, and that it almost certainly has a bead on her location.

(Seems pretty incompetent on the Kree’s part to have an alarm installed in the beacon to let the deserter know an assassin is coming, but as we’ve seen The Mopman Prophecies is a pretty terrible assassin.)

Priority one should be deactivating and/or destroying the beacon.  Priority two should be getting her family secure and preparing Carol in particular for what’s about to go down. Because as deeply selfish as Marie has been to keep lying to her daughter for all these years, surely Marie is more invested in saving her children’s lives than she is in preserving this fiction she’s created.

Well… maybe not. Jury’s still out.

Because rather than doing any of those things, Marie seemingly doesn’t know what to do except freak out and continue to lie when questioned about the beacon.

Carol isn’t much better. She couldn’t see the beacon for the OBVIOUS ALIEN DEVICE that it is before, and even now as it’s beeping at a volume/frequency that is near-deafening to her and her mother and yet completely inaudible to everybody else in town, she still thinks it’s nothing more than a busted old TV remote.

No, the extent of Carol’s deductive reasoning is, ‘THING MAKE MOM SAD. THING BAD. THING GO AWAY NOW.’

Carol: [snatching the beacon] Here— Let’s just get rid of it! [hurls it into the bay several kilometres away]

So this is the point where Marie comes clean, right? She knows it’s only a matter of time before the Kree Khambermaid shows up at their door. She knows that even as they stand here, her children’s lives are in danger. She has to say something, if only to get them somewhere safe.

NOPE. SHE JUST FUCKS RIGHT OFF TO SULK AND TAKE HER FRUSTRATION OUT ON THE DISHES.

JJ asks what upset Marie, and Carol is a shitty liar.

“…nothing. Some broken remote I found in a box of old… um… just some stuff in your closet.”

Again, ZERO curiosity about this ultra-suspicious beeping that only she and her mother could hear.

JJ reveals that he knew about the letters, which kind of stands to reason — the box was in his wardrobe, and it was stored in a very visible, easily accessible spot. (Carol, of course, is taken completely by surprise.)

He adds that, after reading them, he recalled kind of a weird childhood memory.

It was during the summer; the three kids were spending the day on the boat with their uncle while their mother was out of town. They stopped briefly at shore to pick up some more bait, only to see their father canoodling with a mysterious blonde.

Steven: Hey— is that Pops?! What’s he doin’ all the way up there…? JJ: And who’s he doin’ it to?! Steven: Uh… I’ll tell ya when you’re my age. Beans, don’t look! Carol: Huh? [Joe and Marie start to levitate off the ground]

Things that are stupid about this:

Marie is a deserter from the Kree military. If the Kree Empire were alerted to her presence on Earth, they would send somebody to kill her and take her daughter away. Donning fancy alien clothes and flaunting her superpowers in full view of the harbour is idiotically reckless and endangers her entire family.

AN ALIEN HAS JUST LIFTED UP THEIR FATHER AND LEVITATED WITH HIM AND ALL THE KIDS CAN FOCUS ON IS THE FACT THAT THEY’RE KISSING AT THE SAME TIME.

AND LIKE. NOBODY EVER DISCUSSED THIS. JUST LIKE NOBODY EVER DISCUSSED THE FACT THAT THEIR SISTER COULD OUTRUN A FREIGHT TRAIN WITHOUT BREAKING A SWEAT. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS FAMILY.

oh and can we talk about the fact that Carol saw this. Carol, who dreams of visiting the stars. CAROL, whose childhood bedroom is wallpapered with NASA and Star Wars posters. C A R O L, who has craved flight since before she could walk.

CAROL SUSAN JANE DANVERS SAW A MYSTERIOUS ALIEN WOMAN FLYING WITH HER DAD AND THEN IMMEDIATELY FORGOT ABOUT IT ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.

Also, though it’s less important, the dialogue has gone askew here. Steven’s “I’ll tell ya when you’re my age” is clearly meant to brush off a question about the canoodling. But it was Steven who asked about the canoodling — the question from JJ that he’s responding to is ‘who’s the lady?’, which of course neither of the brothers knows.

So the exchange should either read,

JJ: Hey— is that Pops?! What’s he doin’ all the way up there…? And what’s she doin’ to him?! Steven: Uh… I’ll tell ya when you’re my age.

Or,

Steven: Hey— is that Pops?! Who’s the lady? JJ: And what’s she doin’ to him?! Steven: Uh… I’ll tell ya when you’re my age.

But also, it shouldn’t be either of those things, because what they really ought to be talking about is OMFG THOSE PEOPLE ARE FLYING.

“And I was right there? I— I really must have buried that memory.”

Really? We’re gonna do suppressed memories, now? That’s where you wanna go with this?

I mean, it’s possible it could have slipped her mind somewhere in between the two complete memory wipes she’s suffered over the course of her superhero career, but short of that, there is no earthly reason why Carol would not recall seeing an actual alien hovering in front of her face.

Carol goes to talk to Marie about the histrionics in the garage and they take a walk down to the pier together.

Carol: So… what was that device in Pops’ stuff? I tried to open it but couldn’t make heads or tails of the thing. Marie: Carol, it’s not just… that thing you found. It’s time I told you the truth… though I promised your father I never would.

Really, Carol? That’s the question you want to ask? Not ‘why was Dad canoodling with aliens?’ Not ‘why did Dad have an extraterrestrial device among his possessions?’ Not ‘how come you and I are the only ones who heard that thing?’

So, a few things happen at this point.

Having decided that with lives on the line, she can no longer avoid telling Carol the truth, Marie… continues to avoid telling the truth, procrastinating by talking vaguely around her relationship with Joe and her decision to keep the family together. Can’t take it too quickly, or she might actually reveal something of value before the Janitor arrives to kill them all.

But Room Service is taking its time, and Marie is running out of steam. If something doesn’t happen soon, she and her daughter might be forced to have a necessary and productive conversation!

It’s all on Carol now. Only she can save us from a devastating outbreak of basic competence!

Marie: Carol? Carol: [wheeze] I can’t— [wheeze] Marie: What is it? Are you okay? Carol: [swoons] Marie: Carol! Carol: [HYPERVENTILATES HER WAY FACE FIRST INTO A GODDAMN LAKE]

Okay, but who in the hell read this script and saw this artwork and didn’t think that everybody involved with this comic was about to make massive fools of themselves?

Wait, never mind, I just googled it, and the editor on this book is the same person who edited America. That... absolutely checks out.

There’s a page of Carol sinking dramatically through the water, unable to get her body to move, before Marie dives to her rescue. They both collapse on the dock, exhausted, just in time for the beeping to begin again.

In town, all hell is breaking loose. Turns out Carol’s ‘out of sight, out of mind’ approach to the Kree beacon? Not a great plan. After being flung into the bay, the device wound up being scooped up in a fishing net and brought right back into town, which is where Tide Pod’s drone has located it. The drones are now exploding everything in sight.

Louis tries to slow it down by hurling some sick burns: “Hey you! Sir Splodesalot! … Hey! Baby Death Star Head!”

Carol arrives on the scene and asks if anybody is hurt, and Louis immediately starts whining that she didn’t show up sooner.

Carol: Louis! Everyone okay?! Louis: What’s the use of this place being the “summer home to a super hero” if you’re not gonna come when we’re being [attacked?]

He’s skating very close to having an actual point, because this entire situation is Marie and Carol’s fault. However, this is also the dude who, mere hours ago, lost his shit when Carol prioritised saving lives over a make-out session. You don’t get to demand she ignore a distress call one minute and then complain that she didn’t respond fast enough the next.

Also, you’re the ones who slapped Captain Marvel’s brand on your town and your donuts, not her. You fuckers are lucky the Avengers haven’t come after you for trademark infringement.

A cloud of drones descends on Main Street. They immediately go for Carol, so she takes to the sky with the plan of luring them away and exploding them high above the town.

But first, a quick detour to needlessly endanger her family and tackle her mother to the ground.

After destroying the drones, Carol returns in time for Clorox to arrive and—

what the hell man, why did you decide to nude up for this?!

And finally, the reveal we’ve all been dreading.

Marie/Mari-Ell: …she’s here for me. Carol: Ma?!?!

(Small detail, but dudes, let your letterer do their job. They’re not just your friggin typist. You want to emphasise Carol’s shocked exclamation, the letterer can do that by playing with fonts, sizing, colour and speech bubbles. You don’t need to vomit out interrobangs like a seven-year-old who’s just discovered punctuation.)

anyway yes this book is a nightmare.

[yourjughead]

Make a move (requested oneshot)

Requested: " Could you do a jughead smut where the reader and jughead have been best friends since they were toddlers, Archie sees her as a younger sister so when jughead wants to make a move he tries to stop him but. Betty and Veronica (who are dating) convince her to make the first move and it leads to smut..."~ @thegoddessofbeautyandperfection Pairings: Jughead x reader, BettyxVeronica Warnings: Smut, yup definitely some sin in this one, fluff and swearing. A/N: Fun idea my lovely! Hope you like it! -------------------------------------------- Jughead POV. Okay Juggy breath. Breath. This is worse than ask a father for their daughters hand in marriage…I presume. I stood at the edge of the field waiting for the semi final to be over. I'm going to ask him now when he's on a high and already too tired to chase me. Breath. Breath. Breath. Final whistle blew and with it cheering came. A win. Good good this means he'll be on cloud 10, yup cloud 10, he'll just skip 9. After the immediate congratulations and cheering Archie ran over to meet me. “JUGGY! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT! WE'RE GOING TO CHAMPIONSHIP!” He was like a child on Christmas and I loved it, so nice to see your best friend happy. “Yeah congratulations man listen I need to ask you something?” “Whatever it is man yes! I'm so buzzed right now whatever you want!” “Okay I'll go ask y/n out right now then” I turned as fast as I could but not fast enough for the champion athlete. He caught me by the shoulder. “I'm sorry maybe it's all the crowds or something I don't think I heard you right could you repeat that” his grip on my shoulder tightened. Maybe asking him about this while he's pumped with testosterone was a bad idea. “Okay emm I'm going to ask y/n out” “Hah no you're not” he let go of my shoulder with a light shove. “But why not?” “Dude she's like my little sister, she's in my house more than I am. I don't want my brother dating my sister that's just yanno illegal”. I couldn't help but laugh at this comment. He's being ridiculous. “We're not actually siblings Arch like the sentiment is nice but I'm not her brother I want to be her boyfriend” this received a stronger shove. “Nope no dude,no, don't do it, I won't let, don't do it, you're not allowed do it, I forbid you” “I'm sorry YOU FORBID ME?!” this was about to turn into a serious fight, it did last time. I could see archie about to retaliate just as Y/N, Veronica  and Betty ran over  in their cheer gear. Wow y/n looks amazing. She ran directly into Archie's arms. “Congratulations!!!” She hugged him tightly and he shook his head slowly at me over her shoulder. I hate that he's scolding me like I'm a child. This was a divisive point in our friendship. He wanted to protect her as if I'm something she needs to be protected from...if only he knew Reggie wanted to get in her pants more than anything. Hah. That'd kill him...I'm going to tell him...later. Y/N let go of Archie and let the wonder couple give him hugs. “Come here Juggy, you're all left out" she cooed wrapping her arms around my neck and burying her head in my chest. I want her to stay like this forever. I could feel Archie's eyes on me, burning holes in my head. “Come on y/n we have to go get ready for Cheryls victory party, you're coming aren't you Jug?” Betty smiled. “Nah” not my thing. Y/N looked at me like I had just hit her puppy with a lawnmower. “Ummmm yes you are Juggy” she took my hand in hers lightly. Damn it I'm putty. “Ughhhhhhh fine.” Y/N POV. “Okay seriously love birds if ye don't stop I'm leaving” I laugh at B&V messing around in my room. “Yeah maybe you should” V purred into Bettys neck. I laughed knowing while that wasn't all a joke it for the majority was. We were getting ready for Cheryls in Veronicas. The two of them are sickly sweet and I was sickly jealous of their connection. “So when are you going to ask Jughead out” Betty pushed Veronica off the bed laughing. “Sorry what?!” “Oh please y/n/n you two are weak for each other.totally head over heels. If you asked him to bring you a goat he'd find a unicorn for you” Vernonica teased. I smiled at the two of them. Yeah Jug and I are like that. “Yeah I guess….but Archie won't let him near me in any other way besides friendly, he thinks I don't know but he's so obvious” It's not like I couldn't feel him trying to explode Jughead with his mind earlier. “Yeah Archie won't let Jughead make a move…..” her eyes lit up and Betty’s grin matched her girlfriends eyes. “YOU SHOULD MAKE THE MOVE” They say...scream in unison. “Oh no no no no no no” “YES! Betty Get me my makeup bag princess!, it just got serious”. Jughead POV Archie and I got there when the party was in full swing. He was whisked away instantly by Moose and Co. I stood in the doorway looking on at the madness before me. Suddenly an arm sneaked around my waist under my dark denim jacket. Y/n rested her head on my shoulder from behind. “Don't worry damsel I am here to rescue you” she smirked. I turned to face her “Wow” she chuckled at my response. Smooth Jughead smooth. “Um thank you?” She laughed. Archie came practically running over “Y/N! Where are mrs and mrs gone?” “Who knows there's a closet around here somewhere isn't there?” “Ugh yeah…” “Well they're in there I'd say” “Haha probably. Do you wanna dance y/n?” I shifted slightly on the spot at Archie's question. “Nah I'm going to get a drink, I'll be back in a second”. I watched her walk to the kitchen. “Jug please can you just not with her tonight” ughhhhhhh okay, time to use my secret weapon. “Oh sure Archie, I mean I'm not the one you have to worry about” I say as nonchalantly as I possibly can. “What do you mean by that Jug?” he furrowed his brow at me. “Oh nothing it's nothing” “No tell me” he stepped closer to me. Like shooting fish in a barrel. “Oh well I heard Moose say he was going to try it with Y/N tonight...he's probably trying it now" boom. Gone like a flash he took off. I laughed, too easy Andrews too easy. I might get a bit of peace now. The party got a little out of hand as y/n joined my side again. “WEDNESDAY ADDDDDDDAAAAMMMMMS” well goodbye peace, hello drunk Reggie. I felt y/ns hand slip into mine. “Hey baaaaaaaaabe why are you with this tool? Come here to Reggie baby, Juggles here probably wants to murder you and wear your skin” he was met with laugh from his goons behind him. Y/n stepped a little behind me. She was never good with confrontation of this nature, especially drunken confrontation. “Reggie just leave her alone” I tried, squeezing her hand gently in reassurance. “Oh yeah Wednesday? What are you going to do about it” he reached out and caught y/n from around the waist roughly as she screamed. I didn't even know what was happening till I did it. His jaw met my fist and he flew back into his goons. Y/N scurried back towards me as Archie ran to catch Reggie before he realised what had happened. A crowd gathered and I felt my face turn red as everyone was looking at me. Y/N caught my hand and swept me away up the stairs. Before long we were in an empty guest room. I began pacing “oh God he's going to kill me he's actually going to kill me” y/n stood silent watching me pace. I ramble on about how he was going to kill me before I realised y/n was yet to say something. I sat down on the edge of the bed and she still stared at me with soft beautiful eyes. She slowly moved towards me, our eyes locked. She caught my face in her hands and kissed my lips. I put my hands on her hips and pulled her into me. She pulled away from me and slowly pulled her dress over her head. I must be dreaming because this is not happening. She smiled and kissed me again. I wiggled out of my jacket and moved further up in the bed bringing her with me. 3rd Person Jugheads breath was practically knocked out of him as he was coming to terms with what was happening. A nearly naked y/n was on top of him and he was wide awake definitely not dreaming. Jughead bury his head into your neck and smirked as he begin biting your neck receiving soft moans. Your hands began to slip under his t-shirt. He made it easy for you, sat up and took off his shirt tossing it in the direction of your dress. You began grinding down on his clothed legs causing groans to rise from both of you. Jughead moved his hands from your back to your hips, gripping them and dragging them down to meet his. You pulled off his hat and let your hands roam his untamed hair as he began fondling your chest. You felt his member pressing against your thigh as he lightly nips your neck until you let a high pitch moan leave you, his new favorite spot. You unbuttoned his jeans and helped him to strip them off. He unclasped your bra and threw it in any direction. You slipped your hand into his boxers and slowly began to stroke his member. You picked up the pace as his breathing got heavier and uneven. “Okay okay y/n, my turn” he was just about able to breathe out. He flipped you onto your back. He kissed from your lips down your neck, bare torso and finally your thighs. He looked up, head hovering above you. Jughead pulled down your underwear and began to rub your clit. He slowly began to explore your entrance with his tongue spurred on by your moans. You tangle your hands in his locks again and guide him, your moans increasing in volume. He laid out the length of your body hovering above you and meet your lips again. You moved your hand and removed his boxers, jacking him with the other hand. Jughead moaned deeply driving you wild with lust. “Juggy. Now.” You whined and he slowly moved into you with the help of your hand for guidance. He propped himself up with one hand and the other groping your breasts. Jughead buried his head in the crook of your neck before slowly starting to move, Your head began to tilt back as your hips snapped together. Moans and groans leaving the both of you loudly. You wrapped your legs around his waist encouraging him to go faster. He, happily obliging, began to thrust into you deeper until he hit your g-spot perfect. Your moan to this was particularly loud and he soon moved faster to this exact spot receiving the same result. Jughead grunted at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. The band in your stomach was being stretched to the limits. “Jug I'm so close” “come for me y/n come for me” he groaned. The band snapped at his encouragement and his hands slipping to rub your clit again. Your nails digging into his back you screamed his name. The sound of his name on your lips drove him over the edge. His thrusts became sloppy sending you to overstimulation still moaning from your high. He grunted inside of you and stayed their for a moment riding out his high with you still around him. Completely breathless he collapsed next to you. You gathered the duvet to cover ye as both of your legs shook. Highs still being enjoyed. “Y/N” he huffed. “Yeah” you say rolling over to put your head on his chest. “I have been in love with you forever”. You sat up and looked down at him. He instantly regretted it. You cuddled back into him “I love you too Jug...the minute you squeezed my hand earlier it got rid of any ounce of doubt in my mind, I love you Jughead Jones”. Jughead smiled ear to ear. “This is great for 2 reasons, 1) you want to be with me and that's just... phenomenal 2) this is going to kill Archie" he laughs rolling on his side to deepen the cuddle. “Dibs not telling him” you say quickly “No fair y/n/n! He's going to kill me! The worse he'll do to you is yell” “Sorry Jones, better luck next time” you meet his lips. “You're worth a grumpy Archie” “Am I reaaaally though…” you laughed “Actually yeah you're right sorry we're done sorry” he teased pretending to get out of the bed. You pulled him back into cuddles and hit him into the chest laughing before kissing him again. ------------------------------------- Teehee Xx Tag: @sunshine51879 (I REMEMBERED!!!)

[adscititious-cacoethes]

Petrichor (6/12)

Pairing: Eventual Trevor C./Reader; other background relationships Chapter: 6 of 12 Warnings: Swearing, Geoff’s Still Extra, Poor Jeremy Continues to Know Nothing, (mostly) Shameless Pining, More Books, The Single Best Joke I’ve ever Written, Mica and Mariel and Tyler all make appearances, vampires and werewolves and things that go bump in the night (PG-13) Word Counts: Chapter: 4,509  Total: 22,587 A/N: Thanks again to those of you who replied with nice things to say! It made my heart feel warm and fuzzy. Don’t be afraid to contact me if you want to chit-chat about this! We’re halfway there, everyone! Woo!!! Reminder that this has a bunch of supernatural-y stuff, and also that this would not have seen the light of day (pun intended), if it weren’t for @chefgeofframsay. P.S. - Feedback would be cool P. P. S. - sorry if any chapters end kind of weird, this was written as one long thing and then I decided to break it up.  Previous|Next

Not long after your discovery, business picked up again, with people coming in on their way home from work. It was also starting to dip into the evening, so more of the Non-Normal clientele were starting to come in. Two of your regulars wandered in around six, on their way home from where they worked together. They were both on the shorter side, and you knew the moment they walked in by the way that Jeremy tensed and his head lifted a little bit, the smell of their magical blood probably flooding his senses.

“[Y/N], sup?” The woman, Mariel, said to you as soon as she could see you through the shelves, while you watched her companion, Tyler, do the handshake-chestbump-brohug thing with Blaine. You smiled and waved.

“Hey, Mariel, how’s it going?” You asked her, and she sighed, shaking her head.

“Idiot back there bet me I couldn’t stomach troll food. Got a cookbook for that?” She asked voice lowered a little bit even though there weren’t any Normal humans in earshot, and you watched Jeremy relax a little bit out of the corner of your eye once he registered the genuine friendliness of your conversation.

“Uh, maybe? Third floor in the back has cookbooks. I don’t know if I have any troll ones, though. You may have to settle for stone giant, although most of those recipes involve eating rocks.”

“I’ll eat a rock, I don’t give a fuck.” Mariel said with a smile, turning and heading towards the hall that housed the stairs.

“C’mon, asshole!” She shouted to a still-chatting-with-Blaine-by-the-door Tyler, who immediately started jogging her way.

You noticed a girl in the trashy romance novel section stop and stare at Tyler’s ass, and you focused to See if Tyler was attracting her. Sure enough, she was the dull, unassuming and barely-there gray of a human, so you turned to Tyler. His aura was a bright rosy color. Hmph. Must just actually think the asshole’s attractive. You thought to yourself, watching as Tyler’s red and Mariel’s bright, grass green got close enough to touch and become a yellowy color at the touching edges as they walked down the hall together.

“Who were they?” Jeremy whispered as soon as they were down the hall and out of sight. You crouched down next to his chair.

“Mariel and Tyler. Uh, forest nymph and incubus. No, they’re not dating, they’re friends and regular customers. Typically, when someone goes upstairs either Blaine or I go up with them, yanno, to prevent stealing and deviousness and stuff, but we don’t bother with regulars.” You explained quietly, very aware of the human woman nearby, who had resumed looking at the romance novels. Jeremy nodded and returned to his book.

A while later, after both human woman and Mariel and Tyler checked out (they wound up going with the stone giant cookbook, as well as one on raw meat dishes catering towards werewolves), Jack wandered back to the cash register.

“Hey, Jeremy? Ryan’s on his way, so get ready to go.” Jack said, and Jeremy nodded. You pulled a big canvas bag from a shelf behind the register and helped Jeremy load all of his books into it.

“[Y/N?]” Jeremy asked, and you hummed, carefully placing Ghosts and Undead: A Guide for Dummies into the bag, trying to Tetris everything in.

“Can I read this one, too? I know it was the one you were reading earlier.” He asked, and you looked up, seeing The Sight: The Ultimate Guide for the Seer in his hands. You furrowed your brow, realizing that you had put it with Jeremy’s books instead of back on the shelf where it belonged once you had realized that Lindsay was a valkyrie.

On one hand, you could See, and it was a thing that not many people could do, so it would be nice to talk to someone else about it. On the other hand, half of the things Ashley wrote about in that book you couldn’t do, like Predicting, Scrying, and Dream-Walking, so when Jeremy inevitably came to you, asking questions and wanting to talk about those things, you would have to admit that you couldn’t do them, and that might be awkward.

The look of sincere curiosity on Jeremy’s face is what swayed you, and you slowly nodded, reaching out for the book and tucking it into the bag.

“You might want to talk to Geoff a little bit about it, unlike the other ones I gave you, it assumes that you know some stuff right off the back. It’s more of a science book for scientists instead of a science book for students.” You warned him, and he nodded, picking up the heavy bag like it was nothing and swinging it onto his shoulder.

A few minutes later, at exactly eight PM, the bell on the door chimed and you could see the tall figure of Ryan walk in. He talked to Jack and Jeremy for a few minutes, before the other men left, and you skirted the counter and strode to meet him.

“Hi, Ryan.” You said, giving a little wave.

“Hello. Who’s that?” He asked, pointing to the corner where you saw a gently snoring Blaine star-fished in a chair.

“Oh, that’s Blaine. He’s my employee, who’s currently sleeping on the job, I guess.” You said, laughing and moving to wake Blaine up.

“Blaine, wake up, you have to meet Ryan.” You urged, shaking his shoulder. The blond woke up with a groggy groan, but stood up and offered his hand to Ryan nonetheless.

“’m Blaine.” He mumbled and blinked a few times as Ryan laughed and shook his hand.

“Ryan.”

“You’re the other one of the guys who helped my girl here out, right?” Blaine pulled you into his side with his arm around your shoulders, ruffling your hair with his other hand. You quickly swatted it away and smoothed down your hair.

“Uh, yes, that’d be me.” Ryan replied, still snickering at Blaine.

“Good.” Blaine yawned as he responded, leaning heavily enough on you that you had to use your wings to keep the two of you upright.

“Blaine, get off, you asshole.” You shoved at Blaine’s side, and he reluctantly complied, laughing.

“Why don’t you go home, dude? We’re going to be open late tomorrow and you came in early because of the Glitter Bomb Duo. I’ll close up and stuff.” You offered, and Blaine grinned at you.

“Well, if you insist…” He trailed off, looking innocent but he was already scooting past Ryan and heading toward the door.

“Fuck you, Blaine.”

“Love you too!” He called as the door slammed shut behind him.

Which left you with Ryan, who was staring at you with a strange expression on his face.

“Alright, well, let me go through and close up and stuff and then we can head home and whatever?” You offered, but Ryan continued to look at you like you hadn’t spoken at all.

You stood there a minute longer, before sighing inwardly and walking around Ryan to close the blinds on the windows and switch the sign to “closed” in the door. You were halfway to the stairs to make sure that the upper floors were void of customers when Ryan finally spoke.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I give up. How do you and him – Blaine – do it?” Ryan asked, and you turned to see him walking through the rows of shelves toward you. You rose an eyebrow, fixing him with your best what the fuck are you talking about face.

“Do what, Ryan?” You asked, once again starting to walk towards the back hallway after he got within a few feet of you.

“Well, he’s a centaur, right? That’s what Michael told me this morning.”

“Uh-huh. So?” You said, urging him on while popping your head in the women’s restroom to make sure no one was there. You knocked on the door to the men’s room and did the same.

“So, you’re fae. Body types are completely different. Makes it severely improbable. Unless! Unless he can still pop a boner while shifted to look like a human. Is that how you two do it?” Ryan’s voice had an edge of excitement and curiosity in it.

You spluttered, nearly tripping over your own feet, and then you started coughing. You could feel your face turning beet red.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t – shit, Ryan! Did you – did you really think we’re together? Blaine’s my best friend, sure, but he’s like an annoying brother more than anything. I don’t know how his centaur junk works and now you’ve put the mental image in my head! I���m scarred, scarred for life!” You half-shouted, slamming your hands onto your face and rubbing your eyes.

Ryan, for his part, managed to look sheepish.

“Well, from what Michael told me this morning, and your behavior, I thought…” He trailed off, and you ascended the first could stairs before turning around so that you were eye-to-eye.

“Blaine is my best friend. I explained that to Michael this morning, but I guess he didn’t believe me. He’s gross and not my type. I’m not in a relationship right now, at all, Ryan.” You weren’t quite sure why you added that last part (you absolutely knew why and his name started with T and ended with ‘revor’), but Ryan seemed to get your point, nodding and rubbing the back of his head.

“Alright, point taken, sorry. But in my defense, it’s Michael’s fault.” Ryan retorted, part-apologetic and part-accusatory, his hands up in a gesture of innocence.

“Okay, whatever, it’s fine. Just – please don’t tell Blaine, he’ll never let me live it down.” You sighed as Ryan nodded, and the two of you swept through both the second and the third floors, making sure no one was there before returning back to the ground floor. You grabbed your things, did a final sweep of the main floor, and then locked up. You started down the sidewalk towards your apartment, but Ryan grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Nuh-uh. None of this ‘walking’ shit. It’s getting late, we’re driving.” Ryan said, gesturing to the nice-looking but still nondescript black SUV before jingling some car keys in his hand. You sighed, a little disappointed that you didn’t get your full amount of “exercise” for the day (and, more importantly, didn’t get to stop at your favorite ice cream parlor, located exactly halfway between your store and your home), but followed Ryan into the car regardless. As you buckled in, you heard your phone chirp from your purse.

[From: Trevor 3:15:15 PM] If any of the boys give you trouble, let me know.

[From: Trevor 8:46:01 PM] Hey, Ryan says you guys are heading back to your apartment now. Geoff wants to know if you can give him some semblance of a schedule for when Books & More Books is open. I told him what you said, that you didn’t really have one, and his response was “well make one!”

You smiled to yourself, not noticing that Ryan had glanced at you, smiling a secret smile of his own.

[To: Trevor 8:47:10 PM] Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays we open earlier and close around 7 or 8-ish. Tuesdays, Fridays, Saturdays we open around 12 or 1 and stay later, usually until midnight. Sundays is a wild card.

[To: Trevor 8:47:57 PM] Also, apparently Michael told Ryan that Blaine and I were dating? Even though I made a point to call Blaine my best friend so that no one assumed we were dating? Cause that’s like, gross, Blaine’s like a brother? So that was awkward. If you could yell at Michael for spreading lies and slander, that’d be great :)

You tried your best to phrase it like you were joking and not really all that mad, but judging by Trevor’s immediate response of “I’m gonna fucking kill him”, you had missed your mark. You spent a couple minutes going back and forth, trying to reassure the man (read: dark-haired, tall, handsome, adorable, nice man) that it was okay, and you didn’t really mind all that much, and that it wasn’t the first time that you and Blaine had been mistaken for a couple (although it was the first time someone had asked how the two of you would have sex – that thought sent an unpleasant shudder down your spine just recalling the conversation), but Trevor wouldn’t budge on the matter.

Sure enough, when you and Ryan were safely back in your apartment and Ryan had checked to make sure no one was there and you were making spaghetti, your phone started playing “Highway to Hell”. Confused, you looked, only to find you had gotten a text from Michael:

[From: Cool Guy Jones 9:12:32 PM] Sorry for telling Ryan that you and Blaine were dating, even though I didn’t actually say the words “[Y/N] and Blaine are dating”. Ryan read into it the wrong way, I guess. See you tomorrow!

You sighed and changed Michael’s contact name (but kept the ringtone, because it was actually pretty funny) before sending a response.

[To: Michael 9:15:42 PM] It’s fine, just provided a really awkward conversation. Sorry if Trevor jumped down your throat about it, I’m not actually super upset as long as Blaine doesn’t find out.

As an afterthought, you took a picture of Gus, grumpy as ever, sleeping in the bright pink castle you had bought for him back when you thought he was a girl (then you did some research on the type of fish he was and came to discover that only boys are that color), and sent it to Michael without context.

Michael sent you back about seven middle finger emojis, accompanied by a “Fuck you.”

Unfortunately, after dinner you realized you had forgotten to ask Blaine for your air mattress, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind, just asked for a blanket and told you that he was “Used to sitting upright” with a creepy eyebrow wiggle.

Ryan’s fingers brushed against yours, and you couldn’t help but notice that while Trevor was cool to the touch, Ryan was positively frosty, which was slightly disconcerting and although you knew quite a bit about vampires, you weren’t sure which one was “correct.”

The next day was more of the same. You got up, showered, texted your mother good morning (her and your father were taking a day trip to Milan, which made you jealous, but she promised to bring back souvenirs), dragged Ryan to the grocery store with you (you remembered the coffee, secretly hoping that Trevor would be coming over again soon and resolutely ignoring the little voice in the back of your head that kept telling you that he was babysitting you and it was his job), and drove down to the store with him a little after lunchtime. Shortly after the two of you arrived, Michael and Lindsay came to relieve Ryan of his duties, Michael wearing normal clothes, but if you looked close enough you could see that not all of his makeup had come off fully, and when the light hit his hair right, you could still see specs of glitter. Blaine showed up around one-thirty, arms laden with the box that contained your air mattress, as well as the pump to fill it with. Michael went out with Blaine to go put it in his car, stating that he was going to be taking you home tonight, and as you watch the two of them chat as they walked out the door, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

Michael driving you home implied no Trevor. You turned to go back to the register to scan in more inventory that you decided not to do yesterday and nearly ran face-first into Lindsay.

“How’s it going?” She asked, bright smile on her face, and you could See her rainbow aura glowing brightly around her.

“Uh, alright. Do you know if y’all have found out anything?” You asked, running a hand through your hair. For all of the time you’ve spent with Ramsey’s crew (which you had found out this morning from eavesdropping on Ryan while he was on the phone that they called themselves “AH”, whatever that means), you hadn’t heard a single thing about what was going on.

“We’re going through all of your father’s recent cases, seeing if anything or anyone seems particularly suspicious and malicious. We also pulled records of every case your dad’s done that has involved fae, Seelie or Unseelie. From what you and Ryan and Trevor told us, the Unseelie who attacked you doesn’t seem to be the leader…”

“But an Unseelie’s right hand man is always and Unseelie, yeah.” You finished for her when she trailed off.

“We’ve got our whole support crew, plus anyone else we can spare, looking into things and following leads and shit. So far, we’ve got a couple of maybe’s, but nothing just yet. The good news is, our pile of no’s just keeps getting bigger and bigger!” She said brightly, which made you smile.

Around five o’clock, Lindsay was traded out for Jeremy, who said that it was supposed to be Gavin but Gavin had forgotten that he and his girlfriend were supposed to be going on a date tonight. Jeremy had a backpack on, so you assumed that meant that he was going to be staying over with you in your apartment tonight, but when he opened it up, it was filled with some of the books you had given him the day before.

“Michael,” He asked, when there was a lull in customers, the only two in the store being upstairs with Blaine, “Michael, the things you can do is terrifying to me. I had no idea you could literally just turn me to ash if you wanted to.” You managed to stifle your laughter, but Michael did not, nearly doubling over. Jeremy turned pink, immediately hiding his face behind the copy of Your Inner Demons, Explained: A Beginner’s Guide to Hell and its Occupants that he had been reading from.

“Jeremy, I’m not a strong enough demon for that.” Michael said, finally, after he had calmed his laughter.

“Yeah, but if you damned some more souls you could!” Jeremy insisted, staring up at Michael earnestly, which just caused Michael to dissolve into giggles again.

Around six-thirty, Blaine went down the street to the diner at the corner of your block (owned by a sweet elderly couple of nereids) and brought back dinner for all. Your phone chirped while the four of you were crowded around a coffee table near the front of the store, and you pulled it out of your pocket to take a look.

[From: Trevor 6:54:21 PM] Hey, hope your day’s going well! Sorry I can’t come visit, Geoff and I are working on some stuff.

[To: Trevor 6:54:58 PM] Yeah, it’s been great! Nothing particularly interesting to report. Hope “stuff” with Geoff goes well!

You tried to school your face to “mildly interested”, but you could tell you hadn’t quite succeeded, if the suggestive wiggling eyebrows that Blaine gave you when you looked up from your phone after locking it and shoving it back into your pocket.

A little while later, you were sitting next to Jeremy by the register, you flipping through The Care and Keeping of Yacumama: A (Mostly) Complete History of Sea Monsters while he had moved on to Wolves! Were?: A New Wolf’s Guide to His Inner Beast. Jeremy was telling you about how he just learned that once he’s more experienced with his wolf-side, he’ll be able to Change at will, no matter the time of the month, when the bell above the door chimed and a loud, “What’s up, you fucks?” was shouted into the room.

“Hey, Mica!” You called, registering but not paying attention to the way Jeremy stiffened. He’d been doing it, probably subconsciously, every time someone new had walked in that didn’t smell at least vaguely familiar, and you were fairly certain Jeremy would’ve never experienced someone like Mica before.

A woman that was browsing cookbooks gave Mica a glare as she waltzed past, but Mica paid her no mind, instead just pulling you up from your chair and sweeping you into a hug.

“Girl, I missed you!” She exclaimed, and you laughed into her shoulder as you returned the hug.

“Missed you too, how was Egypt?” You asked as you pulled away.

She laughed, and her sparkling golden aura glittered as she moved, “Oh, it was wonderful. Father sends his love, of course.”

“And of course, you told him I send mine?” It was more of a statement than a question, and when Mica nodded, you could almost see the outline of a lioness’s head in her aura around her face.

“Of course.” She agreed, before finally turning to look at Jeremy, who had abandoned his book in favor of staring up at the two of you.

“Oh, Mica, this is Jeremy. It’s a long story, Blaine or I will fill you in later, but I’m being babysat until further notice.” You explained as Jeremy rose and stuck out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mica.”

Mica gracefully took Jeremy’s hand within her own, “Pleasure’s mine.”

“Blaine’s upstairs if you want to go say hi. We’re staying open late tonight ‘cause it’s Tuesday, so if you want to just go up there and man a floor for a while, be my guest.” You informed Mica, and she nodded before heading off towards the stairs.

“Mica’s a friend of yours, right?” Jeremy asked once you sat back down.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “she’s one of my two friends. She was visiting family in Egypt for the past couple months, so I’m happy that she’s back. Blaine just doesn’t cut it when you want to talk about girly stuff.”

“So, uh…” Jeremy trailed off, looking around a bit before dipping his head towards you and dropping his voice to a whisper, “she’s not human, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Nope. Want to hazard a guess?”

“I don’t know…it’s hard to tell, especially since she’s been in Egypt for a while. She smells, old and like, sandy? I feel like that’s offensive to say, for some reason.”

“No, you’re right. How familiar are you with Egyptian mythology?” You asked, and Jeremy lifted his head to meet your eye.

“You’re fucking with me.” He said, deadpan, but there was wonder shining in his eyes.

“Nope. You, my man, just met Sekhmet, lion-headed warrior goddess, also a goddess of healing. She prefers Mica, though, and if you act like she’s royalty or whatever she’ll fucking destroy you.” You said, smiling at the way Jeremy’s eyes lit up and then darkened with fear.

“Holy shit. Is everything real?” He inquired.

“Nah, no such thing as unicorns. That’s bullshit.”

Once the sun went down and the number of non-human beings skyrocketed, things got a little bit busy, but they settled down near midnight, and you, Mica, and Blaine did a sweep of the building, making sure that everything was clean and no one was still there before you locked up for the night. Blaine and Mica broke off from your group, deciding to head down to a nearby bar for some drinks, and Jeremy also departed, tell you that he’d see you tomorrow, backpack still laden with books.

That left you and Michael, sitting silently in the car as the radio played softly in the background.

“So, how’re you doing?” Michael asked finally, about halfway to your destination.

“Alright.” You said, toying with your phone in your hands. You had been checking it periodically all day, and had not gotten a single text from Trevor since dinner. You tried to hide the disappointment that was threatening to pull up from somewhere deep in your gut.

Michael hummed, tone disbelieving, but didn’t say anything. You were thankful for that.

When you got back to your apartment, and the normal drill of whoever you were with checking to make sure your apartment was “clear” before you walked in occurred, you were dragging your feet. All you wanted to do was fall face-first onto your bed, but you helped Michael push your furniture around and blow up the air mattress first. You were halfway to your room when you remembered that you hadn’t fed Gus yet.

“Hello, Gus.” You said quietly, so that you didn’t disturb Michael playing games on your couch. You dropped flakes into the tank for your grumpy little fish, and nearly yelled out in shock when a second blue fish darted up to the food!

“Holy fuck, Michael, come here!” You said, and the taller man was at your side nearly instantaneously, looking around wildly.

“What, what?” He demanded.

“I have two fish!” You pointed at the tank, where, sure enough, grumpy little Gus was eating while a new fish swam around him in circles.

“Why does that matter?” Michael spit, but he was watching the fish just as intently as you were.

“Michael, I don’t have two fish, I only have one Gus.”

Michael’s eyes went wide. He looked to you, and then back to the fish, and then to you, and then he dunked his hand in the tank and pulled out both fish, dropping them on the floor. One of them, Gus, just flopped and spluttered, but the other one immediately started glowing and you and Michael watched as the second fish transformed into a sopping wet Gavin.

Michael immediately started howling with laughter, while you bent down and scooped up Gus, apologizing to the poor fish and setting him back inside his tank. Gus seemed to give you a side-eye, so you put in a few more food flakes as atonement (even though he was supposed to be on a diet).

“What the fuck, Gavin?” Michael yell-laughed, dragging Gavin up from the floor. You ran into your hall closet and grabbed some spare towels, bringing them back and giving them to Gavin, who thanked you and immediately started drying his hair and face with one, the other wrapped around his shoulders.

“I bloody get called back to the penthouse in the middle of my date with Turney, and so I came back, and it turned out that it was something Matt could’ve bloody well fixed, so I called Geoff an arsehole and he started giggling. Told me not to be such a ‘grumpy gills’, an’ the next thing I know, I’m in a bloody fish tank!”

Michael, who had calmed down enough to listen to Gavin, started laughing so hard you couldn’t really hear it any more, face beet red and head thrown back.

“It’s not funny!” Gavin shouted at him, but he was smiling, too, so you were pretty sure he didn’t mean it.

“It’s fucking hilarious, Gav. Come on, let me call Jack or someone to get you home.” Michael said, and you retreated to your room.