#(it's just because my schedule sucks and I went from this section to that section)

[lianchuann]

working at microbio section is stressing me out just thinking about it. and my sched is straight up there for like two weeks??? haha ha *breaks down*

[enoughslices]

You mention in one of your tags (related to the Emily episode) that you read an interview regarding Gillian's pregnancy and that some cast/crew comments were well-meaning but insensitive. Do you remember the interview or what they said?

The 90s were a fun time for music, tv, and entertainment, but it must have sucked for the women who had to deal with such a Macho and sexist Hollywood. Feeling compelled to go back to work shortly after a C-section out of "guilt" or fear for one's job "hurts" just to think of it because I know the pain of a C-section and just wanting to stay still when it feels like a stitch is going to tear.

:cracks knuckles: Let's goooooo! First of all, I can only imagine the pain and recovery from a C-section is super intense, full stop. 💜 I know from seeing friends go through it that it can be rough and traumatic even with access to deep rest and real support. It's absolutely horrific to me to try to imagine filming ten-days after an emergency C-section. I was able to find one of the main articles that gave me this impression, and it was this one from TV Guide, March 1995. I've excerpted some of it below and bolded some of the things that felt slightly infantalizing/not great to me. I should say before we dive all of the way in that I think part of what reading this article for the first time left me with was a sense of what an absolutely wild, overwhelming, and isolating time it must have been for Gillian, with some added 90s workplace misogyny and paternalism as icing on the cake.

It's worth going into this bearing in mind that Gililan was 25 at the time of this interview and 24 when she started the show and found out she was pregnant. She lied about her age to get the job - she said she was 27. Both her husband-at-that-time and David are 8 years older so they were ~32 when all of this was happening. Chris Carter would have been 37. She and her first husband, who was on the art direction team for the show, had a whirlwind 6-month romance then spontaneously eloped to Hawaii and accidentally conceived on their wedding day (which the full article goes RIGHT into 😅 but I'll skip ahead to the relevant bit):

A pregnancy would mean limitations on her work schedule and missing episodes - no one could predict how many - in the second season. "I knew I needed to make my decision about the pregnancy first, before broaching the subject with the producers," says Anderson. "I couldn't be wavering. Having this baby was the right decision for my husband and me. But it was like, 'Oh, my God. They did all this for me and now look what I'm doing to them.' So many things go through your mind. So yes, I was worried." Apparently with good reason. According to several sources, executive producer Chris Carter was not pleased. "He went ballistic," says one source. "He wanted to get rid of her." Two other insiders back up that claim. "They were considering recasting," confirms Anderson. "I heard a lot of stuff through the grapevine, and it was not comforting." Not so, says Carter. "I never, ever considered replacing her. It's a lie. If anything, I was the loudest voice saying: We have to protect this show and this person. Scully and Mulder are two characters that the audience has invested in, they are the secret to the success of the show, and we have to find a way to make this work." How did all of this affect Anderson? "She's grown up," says wardrobe supervisor Kieft. "Getting married and having the baby has matured her, I think, and given her a bit of stability. When she was pregnant, we did have a bed standing by, and whenever we could, we would get her to lie down. But she is quite a strong little person." In fact, Anderson missed only one episode and was back to work - after an emergency C-section - in just 10 days. "I was getting restless," says Anderson. "I wanted to get back to work because it was really hard on David, and it's the two of us up there, you know?"

So just to break this down:

Reading between the lines a bit, it sounds like she felt pretty certain that if she didn't share the news with her mind firmly made up and her feet planted, the producers might try to coerce her into having an abortion. Sit with that for a minute. (I am fully and passionately pro-choice but the operative word is choice.)

If three anonymous sources and Gillian herself all say Chris Carter was absolutely incensed about her being pregnant, he was for sure Big Mad and is just trying to cover his ass for PR. There's evidence for this elsewhere as well.

I really do think this last passage was truly well-intended but it hits a lot of points that leave me feeling uneasy. The idea that pregnancy has helped her grow up or ground her, this sense that people were making sure she rested when she was forced back to work immediately after a harrowing emergency c-section, and everything about the phrase "strong little person."... to me it just sort of betrays an environment where GA was habitually treated/perceived sort of like a little girl and not an adult woman with full agency.

Just. Ten. DAYS!!!!! It's a crime.

This next one isn't as bad by any means, but here's a quote from her hairdresser earlier in this same article:

"In the beginning," says Marsden, "she had trouble with her lines, and I think it kind of upset David because he is so accomplished. He's worked in feature files. He's worked with Brad Pitt. And he can learn his lines"-Marsden snaps his fingers-"like. But I know he appreciates how hard she works."

Now obviously, there's nothing overtly wrong with what he's saying here, and it's explicitly laid out in the article how David was the first person she told and that he was supportive. But this quote (and the article taken as a whole) provides a sense of overall atmosphere to me: she's young, she's green, everyone's already a little impatient toward her, and then she was also pregnant.

There's also this article from USA Today in 1994:

The C-section put her "out of commission at least an extra four days than they were planning." She figures everyone is "a little sorry" for sending her back to the grind so soon. "But it seems to have worked out. I think. So far," she says, breathless and bemused.

Does this mean they were originally planning for her to return to set SIX DAYS (???) after giving birth? (??????!)

In the same article, casting a bit of doubt on the earlier narrative that she was just "a strong little person" that they had to coax into lying back down:

Surprise: It calls for her return as skeptical FBI agent Dana Scully--albeit lying in a coma for most of the episode, which aired last week. "That did help a bit, but I mean, with 60 people around you and all the lights, it's not an unstressful situation."

Also in the USA Today article:

When she learned of her pregnancy in February, it defined the phrase mixed blessing. "It was wonderful news, but it scared a lot of people. It scared me. The show was doing relatively well, but it was still very young and there was the possibility of it going one way or another. It could have crashed, and I would have been somewhat in the middle of that. It was a rough time letting people know I had made this decision and deciding how to work with it, and for them, whether to recast (the role)."

I interpret that as something like: if the show had stopped doing well and there was anyway it could be pinned on her pregnancy/absence, it would have been chalked up as her fault. I feel like I'm forgetting something major in terms of crew saying condescending/sort of shitty things (am writing this at midnight because of who i am as a person, so if I remember I'll reblog with it tomorrow) but if you poke around the gilliananderson.ws archives from that time, a lot of the articles focus on or mention her pregnancy or being a new mom, and she speaks pretty candidly about having feared for her job and being absolutely exhausted and fully in survival mode. When you consider that all of this coincided with her being thrust directly into major fame, it's A LOT! This recent Bustle article (Feb 2024) on where Gillian Anderson was at 28 is also somewhat illuminating.

Thanks so much for the ask! I'll share more if I can remember where I saw it! 😅

[1stgirlonpluto]

jealousy, jealousy

summary: ellie comforts jealous reader

cw: pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel) also the ready is kinda a crybaby in this but so am i sooo

a/n: i had to repost this because tumble kept deleting sections but this is my first work on here so i hope you like it! also my request are always open if you’d like to request something!

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

you know that you shouldn’t be feeling this way. realistically you know that ellie would never do anything to purposely make you feel uncomfortable, and that her conversation this morning with dina was just that, a conversation. but as you sat beside her, watching as she skimmed through a worn down textbook she’d found on her latest run, you couldn’t help but recall the way she brushed your hand off her arm and referred to you by your actual name instead of the usual ‘angel’ or ‘baby’.

the memory caused your eyes to sting and you sucked in a shallow breath to try and keep the tears at bay. you knew that you were a sensitive person, it was one of the things that had attracted ellie towards you in the first place, and while she constantly reassured you that she liked your ability to be vulnerable, you couldn’t help but feel like getting emotional over small things would make her see you as a weak or a burden. your sudden intake caused ellie to glance over at you, her face falling as she saw the tears that pooled in your eyes. she tossed the book to the side before turning her body towards you, hands reaching out to find yours as you turned your head away from her, now embarrassed by her full attention.

“what’s wrong baby?” ellie asked softly, one hand untangling from yours to gently pull your face towards her. “look at me, sweetheart, tell me what’s the matter.” you shook your head and pulling your hands up to your face to furiously wipe the tears that had escaped. “it’s nothing” you replied, face still hidden by your hands. ellie tutted at your answers, gently batting away your hands as one of hers went up to cup your face, rubbing her thumb across your cheek as she spoke again.

“it can’t be nothing if it’s gotten you this worked up. come on there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you can tell me.” her other hand found your waist as she spoke, pulling you into her lap. you adjusted your legs so you were straddling her as your head found its way into the crook of her neck.

“it’s just-“ you started, words mumbled slightly by your current position. you cut yourself self off with a small sob, fingers closing around the jacket ellie was wearing as you tried to hold yourself together. one of ellies hands found it’s way under your shirt, rubbing soft circles into your skin. “it’s okay, baby, calm down and start again.”

you took a few shaky breaths before you were confident you could finish your explanation. “at breakfast this morning, when you were talking to dina, i came up and tried to hold your hand but you brushed me off and then when you left with her, you called me by my real name and you never call me by my real name. i don’t know, i know it’s silly but i felt like you didn’t want to show that we were in a relationship, and dina is so pretty and i know y’all used to talk. i just-i don’t know, i’m sorry for crying about something so stupid,” you pushed your self farther into her as you felt the motion on your skin stop.

ellie’s hand came out of your shirt and up to the back of your neck, pulling you off of her enough so she could see you. her heart broke as she took in the tearmarks littering your cheeks and the way your lip quivered. “i’m so sorry i made you feel that way, angel, you didn’t do anything wrong. there was a mix up in the rounds schedule and no one knew who was supposed to be going when and i was pissed off, when you came up dina and i were just about it go find maria and sort it out, that’s why we were rushing to leave”she said, cupping your face and rubbing her thumb against your cheek as she spoke. “and i promise you are the only person i have eyes for and the only person i ever will, dina is just a friend and that’s all she will ever be.”

“promise?” you sniffled, giving her a soft smile as you rose your pinky finger up in the air. you could tell she was being genuine just by her face but still a little reassure never hurt. “promise.” ellie replied, pinky reaching up to wrap around yours as she pulled you in for a kiss. you giggled into it as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders pulled her close enough to entangle your fingers in her hair.

after a short while you pulled away, repositioning yourself so that you were once again laid in her neck. your eyes fluttered shut as you were hit with a sudden wave of drowsiness. ellie, who already knew how much crying tuckered you out, reached over and picked up the book she discarded earlier. “nap as long as you need, baby, i’ve got you” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before laying her cheek against it. the sound of her thumbing through the pages and her breathing quickly lulling you to sleep.

[anitalianfrie]

i'm curious about any commentary you have about this is a love story 👀

beside the like,literal hours i spent trying to code that fucking thing, i realized after the first article and maybe, three posts that i needed a plot. or at least, a resemblance of a plot. a sequence of events that would happen and that then had to be filtered through the social media lens and through the eyes of the characters. I had to build the reconciliation organically, i couldn't just write ten posts on them and call it a day because then it wouldn't have worked.

Luckily our community was of great aid in this, and a lot of the posts i put in it, like reblogs or quotes, were directly taken from my dash around the days i wrote that specific section of the story. Like, when we where having the collective leatherboys breakdown, i decided to put it in the story. or the motogpconfession one, i think i wrote it the day after adora unearthed those posts.

i had a piece of paper on which i wrote down all the events i wanted to happen and then i assigned a race/time period to it. I ended up sending vale to like, eight or nine races in the process but i think i was able to cut it down to seven in the fic. Also i refused to check any of the wec races because it could have ruined everything (and it would have, because i'm pretty sure he will race the same weekend as sepang). i was already going crazy reworking the instagram skin, the wec schedule was not going to be my problem.

one of the most difficult things to write was the rockstar au (that now i love very dearly) because. i didn't know what to write about. I knew i needed to put an au in the story, simply because our community is so profilic in writing them, but i had literally zero ideas. i swear to god, i went on an alternate universe generator site and cliked generate about a thousand times before i got this idea.

the non-text most difficult thing i did was enea's gifs because i used my phone and the app sucked majorly. 0/10 do not recommend that's the reason he's the only one i giffed and then simply reblogged repsol-ariel.

also, all the posts i took from tumblr, so reblogs and such, are actually from the blog with the username i wrote in the fic. in some cases their pfp is also the one of their blogs (this ended pretty soon tho because i was about to kill myself so i simply got random pictures on pinterest)

the easiest article to write was gogue's, even if it was the longest and more complex, because i'll be honest i'm really not made for dry sport journalism. I'm quite proud of it, actually. Describing him talking about Valentino was one of my favourite things, but also I loved the possibility to write glimps of his relationship with Alex.

also: i wrote vale's interview for skyITA after marc and bez's incident in italian and then translated it. i started writing it in english, but then i realized it wouldn't have worked, because i was thinking with the english sentence structure. So i thought: what could valentino say? and wrote it as if he was talking, pauses and not-ended sentences. then i took that and translated it the same way i do when i translate proper interviews or videos, changing the phrasing as little as possible. It was quite fun to do.

(also: cuntress-supreme's username was actually inspired by your username :)) )

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

fellow lawyer here but just graduated in may! any tips on not going absolutely insane during bar studying? we’re 3 weeks out and i feel like im going to puke constantly.

omg congrats!!! there’s nothing quite like your bar summer (i still have nightmares even though i’m a few years out lol)

i’m probably the worst person to ask for advice bc i drank 2-3 trenta black iced coffees a day and gave myself an ulcer, but i did pass on the first try so it was worth it

with just a couple of weeks left, my best advice is to trust yourself and trust your studying. you know more than you think you know!! but here’s a few more little bits of advice under the cut ☺️

stop studying about halfway through the day on the sunday before the test and just let your brain breathe, don’t study on monday either. the last few days before the test it’s going to feel like you know NOTHING, but i promise that’s not the case. random obscure little laws will pop into your brain while you’re taking the test and you’ll be surprised at what you recall. i have never felt stupider than when i went into the test on tuesday morning.

don’t let people around you stress you out with their method of studying. people will be rattling off statutes and ucc sections and you’ll feel like an idiot. or they’ll be taking time off from studying and making it look easy, but you can’t be concerned with what other people are doing (unless you surround yourself with friends who study in a similar manner, then embrace that and quiz each other with flash cards)

take little breaks during the day to walk around, outside or even a lap of the library. sitting still after a couple of hours drove me crazy

i put screen time limits on every app and allowed myself a few minutes to scroll socials at lunchtime and the end of the day just to wind down (i also watched a lot of yankee games when i was done studying for the night bc i didn’t need to use my brain and was distracted lol)

i did SO MANY practice essays and mpts, which i think is like the key to passing. towards the end of prep, i was just bullet pointing the issues, laws and analysis, not even writing a full essay because i wanted to make sure i could issue spot. and remember that even if you forget a law, you can make one up and apply your facts to your made up law and you’ll still get points!! better to write ANYTHING than NOTHING

it’s totally natural to feel like puking every day because it’s three months of psychological warfare, tbh. follow your bar prep schedule and don’t worry about falling behind a bit or skipping around. my professors told as that as long as you completed like 90-95% of the barbri schedule, we were in good shape

i cried every day of the last two weeks of bar prep, but not for longer than a few minutes. i just needed to get the emotion out

don’t eat anything too heavy or out of the norm the days leading up to the test. you don’t want to have gastro issues while sitting for the test! i didn’t drink that much while i was taking the test bc i didn’t want to have to run to the bathroom lol

you’ll feel totally numb afterwards and i couldn’t remember a single question by the time i got home, which is def the brain protecting itself from obsessing until results are out

it sucks so much, but the test goes faster than you think it will and you’re so much more prepared than you think you are, i promise!!!

GOOD LUCK and let me know how you feel after you take it!!! rooting for you so hard!!! 🤍🤍🤍

[olivereactsaboutgarbage]

Higurashi When They Cry - Watanagashi Chapter 11

New year, new schedule. I realized "posting daily until doing so is unsustainable and then taking very long breaks" isn't actually faster than the slow and steady approach. Turtles were right all along, though I'm not sure how many of them were. That's why from now on my new schedule is going to be Two Posts A Week. Yes. Yes yes.

Speaking of the weak, Keiichi and Rena. They're sleepy. Mion, meanwhile, isn't even present. Keiichi thinks Mion might not exist.

At school, everyone is taking the disappearance of some Toddlers very seriously. How strange. Unfortunately, for school to be normal, Mion would have to exist. It all sucks for everyone.

Keiichi and Rena try to have a Lunch Arc, but they flub it because of the writer's strike, so I'm not even going to dignify it with a detailed analysis.

Rena decides to shift gears and give Keiichi secondhand Women Exposition instead. Keiichi thinks the exposition sounds wrong and bad, and Rena agrees, so they decide to solidify the Watanagashi arc of Higurashi as one all about people using the wrong sinks out of an inflated sense of superiority.

the second half of this sentence is not what the first half of this sentence led me to expect

Rena reveals that the Toddlers had been in the middle of a culinary project which they left half-unfinished.

Dumb Fuck!

Seeing Rena activate Detective Mode is awesome though. She really IS like one of those young girls who can read the blue text. Now we just need Keiichi to kick his "guy whose text is often blue" quotient up a notch.

Rena says that Toddler 01 is so inferior to Toddler 02 that she even sucks more at garbage cans. Fascinating.

Wow! I'm learning so much from reading Higurashi!

Also wow, I just noticed, she is really killer at reading the blue text. Um, no pun intended I guess.

Rena reveals the final ace up her sleeve: The Toddlers didn't have any soy sauce.

i wish i lived in hinamizawa, i could get so much free soy sauce

and bread pudding, maybe

Rena does her Sherlock Holmesian monologue where she says it was all the malicious work of a soy sauce saboteur. "Who was the saboteur?" asks Keiichi. "lol idk anyways acab" says Rena, and leaves.

Keiichi also leaves, and he and Rena go to the same place, and it's a cop place. More specifically it's the location Ooishi happens to be in, which is Keiichi's house he sleeps at every day. Keiichi decides to plant some death flags and then make Rena leave.

what a fucking nightmare person

Ooishi reveals that the mayor had hemorrhoids. Wow, that reminds me of my favorite meme song!

Keiichi makes a deduction and then gets immediate amnesia. Classic Keiichi.

Keiichi is confused about where Shion's awesome mayor incident fits into the mayor's busy schedule. He's really confused and possibly about to explode.

Ooishi asks what the big deal was with the temple, and Keiichi is like "Um, literally nothing?" and then curses his own bad habit of revealing information. Yes, the bad habit which he has: revealing information.

Hmm I don't like that Ooishi keeps saying things like "Everyone who went in is being sacrificed, y'know?" and "I had no choice but to ask you, Keiichi, since you went in there, y'know?" Is there going to be a dramatic Shion death reveal?

Oh. The answer was yes, five seconds after I asked. By which I guess I just mean "Ah, Keiichi finally noticed."

Oh, the NEXT day? Like RIGHT after?

Ah, I guess all Keiichi's intimate phone conversations must not have happened then. That. Seems true. Yes.

Oh, that's an awesome trick. He could use that to acquire more piss.

Lol

Anyway I don't have the slightest inkling what's going on. THIS is the arc that's supposed to be easier to figure out than the Rena one? How messed up were the events of the Rena one, then?!

Keiichi screams so hard the scene transitions, and now he's waiting for the obligatory Shion section of this chapter.

Ah yes, the extremely real ladder incident.

Anyway, the obligatory Shion section of this chapter occurs.

Shion immediately learns that Keiichi is home alone.

Classic Keiichi.

Keiichi wants to ask Shion if the Toddlers are okay, but he gets scared that what she says will make him scared, so he asks Shion if the mayor is okay and she says "No," and he gets scared.

String music??? Is playing??? What is this, Umineko?

me when i'm listening to someone sobbing

You should probably have doubts my dude

These twerps really are two peas in a pod huh. That's scary.

Shion is scared of Keiichi again. Keiichi tells her to tell him a longer mayor story so he gets less confused and doesn't explode in the future.

Ah but Shion doesn't live in Hinamizawa. Are Shion and Mion Parent Trapping REALLY REALLY HARD with ultra commitment to the bit? That'd be extremely abnormal.

Unfortunately, Keiichi relatable moments. Um, minus the part where he's having a phone conversation with a crying person. That's categorically not a thing I do, for several reasons. Um, anyways.

Shion enters Comedy Mode and brings the obligatory Shion section of this chapter to a close.

Meanwhile, in Side Story Land...

Isn't that the backstory of that trans girl from that fighting game? I dunno, I don't play games from genres that SUCK.

Allegedly, Mion has a tattoo covering her entire back. Bah, modern media, always with the female characters whose backs are covered in tattoos. One day in the name of gender equality I'll do that to a male character. ...Actually, that might already exist and be called Yakuza. I dunno, I don't play games from series that SUCK.

It would be really fucked up if Ooishi was just completely lying his ass off about Shion having been gone for days, but actually she was just chillin' the entire time. I don't think that's what's happening but it would be fucked up. Ooishi's mahjong buddies seem to be his devout followers also, unless that's part of the rules. I dunno, I don't play games that SUCK.

[melbrewer367]

Reschedule Tasks In Windows

I kept experiencing a dip in FPS and I couldn't figure out why. I've followed all of isimp4sims tutorials, I use Process Lasso and ISLC, both of which did make improvements (even more noticeably on my older pc) but, occassionally, it'd sound like my computer was doing overtime and my FPS would drop to 16-20 fps when it should be 60 fps.

I finally realized it was because my computer was running scheduled tasks while I was playing and those tasks were set at high priority. I've since rescheduled all of these tasks to fall outside of my playing hours (and every now and then I find one still scheduled while I'm playing and notice the immediate difference when I fix it) and it's made a huge difference.

So, this is for people on Windows 10 (though it should be same/about the same for other versions of Windows). The first step is to open Task Scheduler. Just click your windows button, start typing the name, and it'll come right up.

This is what you should see and, down at the bottom, you can see all your upcoming tasks.

Do NOT completely disable any of these! Your computer needs to run these things to keep your computer up to date and protected and all that fun stuff. We're just going to change when it does that.

I play late in the evening, and then my computer stays awake for 2 hours before it puts itself to sleep so I have set all my tasks to occur after 1 am. One of the tasks that sucks up a huge amount of CPU usage is related to Windows Defender, we're going to change that one first.

On the left hand side, click the drop down arrow and navigate down to Windows Defender.

Here you can see, I already have mine for after 1am.

Double click on the first task in the list in the upper middle.

Here you can see down near the bottom that this task is set to "Run with highest privileges." Since I'm having this run outside of my hours, I went ahead and left it for this particular set of tasks but insignificant things like Google Chrome updates and iTunes updates, I removed that regardless of what time they run. Now go to the "Triggers" tab.

This is where you'll find the schedule for this task. If it's your first time doing this, there's probably going to be a lot of triggers. Things like, "at startup," "when user logs on," "daily at [time]," and things like that. In this case, Windows Defender is searching for viruses and malware, depending on whether or not you're using other software for this you may want to stick with daily. You can just highlight the triggers and click "Delete" to get rid of them. Then when you only have the one trigger left, just go ahead and click "Edit."

Here's where you can pick the actual schedule. When you're done with that, click "Ok" and this screen will close, then go to the "Conditions" tab.

This section is mostly important for people on a laptop. You can tell it to only start the task if the computer is on AC power, meaning only when it's plugged in, so you don't have to worry about it draining your battery. When you're done here, click "Ok" and then you can move on to the next task.

I would definitely suggest checking Windows Defender, it was a huge offender of having a ton of triggers that ran during my gameplay and you could look at Process Lasso or Task Manager and see that it was sucking up tons of my CPU power. Beyond that, I would just go back to that first screen and scroll through your upcoming tasks, and do your reschedules from there. Just keep checking it throughout the week and eventually you'll get all the pesky ones scheduled outside of your game time.

Again, don't fully disable any of these tasks. Some of them, it won't even allow you to edit, especially ones that say "custom trigger" because your computer depends on this stuff. You really just want to reschedule scans, whether it's scans for viruses or scanning for updates, to still happen on a regularly occurring basis and often, just outside of your peak hours.

Hope this helps some of you too!

[philsmeatylegss]

man how do you play so many instruments?? can you sight read can you score are you good. i must know please teach me your ways (or just give me tips would be forever in your debt)

I’ve played only clarinet/bass clarinet and ukulele. Bass clarinet is basically just a bigger clarinet. My elementary school provided lessons once or twice a week for instruments. And I learned enough to be in band in middle school. Because of schedule and I wanted to kms I stopped played in high school. I learned to read music in the beginning during those lessons. I also was in select choir from elementary all through high school where reading music makes things much easier so I stayed in practice.

On the other hand, I completely taught myself ukulele. So if you don’t have access to lessons, all hope isn’t lost. It took a while to become mediocre at best, but I still learned. For that specifically, youtube video tutorials were a gift. Also ukutabs. They give you the letter note above each section and basically went back and forth between looking at a diagram for each cord. It takes a while, but it’s fun. I was never great at it, I never learned to strum correctly, but I’m still glad I learned

I am such an advocate for learning to read music or play an instrument or sing even if you suck. Music is hard especially if you’re not naturally good at it (like me). But it really is a fun process and you feel incredible when you finally get something right. Also you sound smart when you say you can read music

[femmefaggot]

UMM com update incoming! idr how much of this I shared god bless + not a lot happened that isnt rly specific bc we had downtime

i was away from the group while they went to a food truck bc someone that worked there is missing

they got told the missing person (mia) was a bad cook but everyone loved her food anyway bc it made them feel good (rift confirmed there) and that she was contacted by an ex cop/current PI, luis navarro (sp?)

I ended up at rice assets, got told to make an appt and killed time for tink to explore by going in circles abt my schedule. then said I wanted to invest in the area (bc the person who is the Big Bad of this section was talking abt that) got laughed at and ultimately had to wait til work was done

(flash forward) texting Seth abt how I found who we r looking for and tink is scared of her + she makes me feel weird too (looking at her increased my clingy status effect by 1 number, or 2 pips)

got told I almost texted "I miss you" but erased it before (my choice) saying "please come here" (I very very rarely say please)

(flash forward, after food truck but before texting Seth)

rest of the group goes to where luis last was, run into his wife, find a gun w silver bullets + a silver knife. told abt "faerie ring park" as a lead

they found a drawing of [INSERT BAD RIFT HERE] and seth used prev gatekeeper knowledge re: what is weak to silver

they text info to calvin (as this is just meant to be reconnaissance) and he tells everyone to come back immediately

Seth argues in my favor, saying he's glad he didn't pledge anything to Calvin bc I Very Rarely directly ask for things/mention my feelinfs

i sic my shadow on eva rice (scary woman) and text Seth that I'll concede and go back to Calvin but will not be waiting long

DOWNTIME MOVES

the others r not my business. Seth goes to work and Calvin can tell it unsettles me, puts his hand on my shoulder and tells me he will be back soon. it is nothing but humiliating that everyone else can tell how weird I'm being

text Seth 2 meet me in neverland after he's done w work, in the meantime I try and get ppls shadows to tell me their secrets

Seth texts me that we need to talk about something (ooc I know what exactly he's referring to, IC it's a miscommunication)

i meet Seth at his island filled w giant sweets and such, start rambling like "I'm really sorry I've been acting so strangely that place is weird and you just. make me feel really really weird and I dont like it or understand it I oh sorry here's your jacket back"

Seth says that what he wanted to talk about was me "trying to stab" yan (didn't intend to stab him. he grabbed me and I flailed around w my knife til he let me go).

he said that I should apologize. "do you consider yan a friend? i think you do." (cue grimace) and I was like. i guess. if I have to.

Seth asks what I was talking about before "what?" (playing dumb) "what?" (knows I suck at being vulnerable) "I... forgot." (lying so bad) but he accepts it bc he is sweet and won't push

i make some colorful silver bullets + a silver laced chain

mc suggests me n Seth sleep in neverland

we all meet calvin next day give him info, roxie gives us various silver things he was able to make in one day, Roxie sees my bullets and pats me very hard on the back

i awkwardly apologize to yan, I'm more focused on the knife thing while to him the serious thing is that I put myself in danger. i tell him Ive never really had friends before and to me none of this seemed like a huge deal (the last part is not in those words. much less blatant re: not knowing what's normal. i did say that I've never had a friend that isn't tink tho)

I'm not sure he accepts my apology but he does give me a hug because he knows how hard it is for me.

we head 2 faerie ring park because eva rice is busy at work and we will not be able to confront her until later. the park is abandoned and "smells of decay" there was a man in a raincoat who disappeared? no. jumped into a hole. end session.

[girlfrandletters]

Rambling Thoughts While I Stay Awake to Make Sure You're Okay As You Sleep

I have developed such a strange dichotomy of feelings, where I am content and happy with my life, job, home, and love while simultaneously being ready to get side swiped by a Mac going 70mph in a two-to-one lane section of the highway with construction and morning traffic. The second part is much less prominent than it used to be though, so I guess that's a good sign.

Yesterday, the overwhelming, uncontrollable panic that set in when I thought you were hurt or dying really sent me down a rabbit hole of self-reflecting, though I did my best not to let it interfere too much with our night. You got absolutely wrecked last night and started talking about your emotions, saying you were scared you were going to die because you loved me. And because you loved me so much, you were scared of losing everything we had. I know you feel embarrassed by these thoughts and the feelings it brings up, but I want you to know that you're not alone in that. You're not in any way being silly or crazy for feeling scared about losing us. Because If you're crazy for having those thoughts, than so am I, and so we are still pretty much the most perfect person for each other. Being worried about you when I wasn't hearing back from you was this kind of wake up call to just how much I love you. I know I say it every day, and I never say it out of habit, never out of obligation. If I say I love you seventeen times in one hour, it's because I am thinking about the fact that I love you seventeen times in one hour.

It never really occurred to me before of what it meant to be this in love with somebody. To think about them not just as my partner and person that I care about, but the person that takes up a portion of my brain capacity and daily concentration requirements every single day, but isn't a chore. I've never thought of what it would be like to be so attached. Not in a co-dependency type of way. But I've gotten into these habits with you that I hope never change, or at least not in a bad way. Texting you every time I get to work and letting you know how it looks throughout the day. Complaining about the number of urgent visits that got scheduled, or sending you pictures of the puppies. You asking me if you should get the Wegman's chinese or not, as if you had lunch waiting for you that you didn't want to eat instead of an empty lunchbox that your girlfriend didn't fill because she sucks at cooking you actual food. The regular exchange of frog faces, whether in response to a story, a picture, or just a literal "Hello Fwog" face (you know which one that looks like).

Until Friday around 430-515pm, I didn't realize just how attached and in love with you I was. Which sounds so stupid. I've been in love with you for a long time. But somehow I didn't know... how much. I didn't know that the mere lack of regularity (not getting my "Girlfrand? Where's... girlfrand?" text 6 minutes after I was scheduled to be finished) was enough to send me into a spiral of wondering if you got shanked, or hurt. I didn't know how scary the thought of life without you was until I imagined it. And imagining a life without you was so terrifying that I started crying and calling you again and again and again. Because I never want to experience that life. I tried to convince myself that you were just studying, or napping (as was the case this time), but the longer the silence between us went on, the more freaked out I got.

Do you know what I imagined a life without you would be like?

Cold.

Humorless.

Dark.

Sad.

That life is one where I would wake up every morning and go to work because I am required, as a fully functional human, to dedicate a certain percentage of my life every day to a singular building, surrounded by a singular set of people, doing a singular set of tasks, to get a singular amount of money, which then just gets spent on food and other necessities, like toilet paper (such a necessity). I would come home every day, sit my ass on a cough or bed and either pass out with ZzzQuil, THC, or alcohol, or stay up until all hours wasting my brain space away on video games and shitty tv. The cats would be around to lie down with me but they would probably also be depressed because I wouldn't have the energy to play with them.

Simply put, life without you is a barren wasteland of obligations and stress. And it scares the shit out of me. I'm scared of what it would mean for you not to be here, and I'm scared of how much I need you, want you, and love you. I'm an emotional person, I get attached quickly, and I tried, for the longest time, to keep myself at least somewhat detached because I wanted to be ready to cut off my emotions if something happened between us and we were no longer compatible. I was always prepared for the day you decided you didn't want to be with me any more. And I when I finally got to the point where I didn't want to be detached from you, I moved on from fearing you leaving me, to fearing you being taken away from me.

Living together with you - those few weeks before our move, was an interesting transition. Coming home every day to see you. But with the option of going to my apartment if I needed to (not that I did). But now I'm coming home to you every day and there is no other place for me to go. No "other" apartment for me to run to when I'm feeling tired and cranky. No other place for us to keep our distance when one or the other is feeling overwhelmed by our feelings. Now it's just this place, our place, our little couch nest and TV, our cats, our kitchen, our study room. And I love everything about it. I love the pile of blankets on this couch which, at this moment, is weirdly uncomfortable. I'll shift soon. I love the sound of the cats' water fountain in the background. I love the feel of your leg over mine as you sleep, and the way your arm wraps around my waist and holds me close. I love hearing your steady breath, and seeing your eyes flicker as you dream.

You're so peaceful now and it makes my heart happy. Your morning started at 5am when you thought you were having a heart attack and you've been a ball of panic and stress all day. I'm happy to see you able to sleep and breath comfortably right now.

I am happy to see you comfortable period. I like your laugh, your smile. I like the way you come around me from behind and kiss my neck . I like when you kiss my forehead when you're comforting me, and how you record videos of things when I'm being particularly dumb.

Side note, there's a sound outside that is probably a truck's brakes or something, but it sounded like a OOooOOoooOooo type of noise and was like wrapping around the house which was weird.

I like you. A lot. And I don't particularly enjoy the concept of not having you. I feel like it sounds selfish, but I need you so much more than you realize. You are the person that keeps me grounded, the one who holds my hand when I'm about to go plunge into a dark cloud of unknown stress, and who drags me up when I've fallen off the edge, or are trying to. You make sure I'm mentally sound and capable all the time before you ever consider yourself. And I've never really had that kind of attention before. I wouldn't be nearly as stable as I am without you and I am forever grateful for that. I hope by saying this you don't feel burdened with keeping me okay. I don't ever want you to feel like you need to do things to keep me Okay. That's not your job. But I want you to know that I appreciate you for what you do. For your attention.

Love.

Affection.

Patience.

Kindness.

Understanding.

Humor.

Goofiness.

I will never find someone like you ever again and I never want to need to. I love you, panic-induced-self-diagnoses and all :)

~Girlfrand

[diedraechin]

Anybody want a sneak peek of the next chapter???

So we just got back from vacation, and I sat down and read through the next chapter, and I think that I'm just about ready to send it to Io to edit. I have two small sections that I have highlighted for reworking, but nothing major and I'm feeling pretty good about it! Which means I should probably let Io have at it before I change my mind...

And whenever I get to this point, is usually when I decide it's time to give you all a little taste of what's coming... :D This is a little longer than usual, but I think it's deserved for all your patience sticking with me!

Where did we leave off? Oh, right, Yuuri got called up as alternate for the GPF and is stuck in the Netherlands because his flight was delayed/cancelled/wtf????

Viktor turned back to Chris. “Going to call it a night?”

Chris nodded. “It’s been busy and that’s not even with all the drama caused by that delay in Amsterdam for our third musketeer.” He paused. “Never fly through Schiphol; it’s a horrible idea. I’ve always had bad luck with that airport. I don’t care how nice it is on the inside, it still sucks getting stuck there.”  He stood up. “I’m going for a walk around the block to get some air and then coming back and calling it a night.”

“Bonne nuit.”

Chris patted his shoulder and headed out the door.

Viktor returned to his staring contest with Yakov. Ultimately, he knew that Yakov was going to win, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for the coach. 

“Ok. So he’s definitely in the air. Someone needs to wait for him, though.” Celestino’s booming voice broke Viktor’s staring contest and he turned his head to look at Celestino who was talking with Kai and the Team Japan Leader -- the Japanese and French officials having left -- Phichit still dancing around the edge, neither included nor separate from the group. Never had Viktor been happier that Celestino didn't know how to speak at normal speaking volume.

It was the Team Japan Leader that spoke. “I will be here when he gets in. I have his paperwork and schedules.” He paused. “I don’t know Katsuki-san at all, though, he’s never competed at a competition I’ve been Leader at before.” He looked down at the watch on his wrist. "It's too late to call Japan." 

“I don’t have a problem with waiting, Celestino.” Kai said.

Celestino shook his head. “He’s my skater and it was a bad delay and we both know that he was panicking earlier when the flight showed as cancelled for five minutes before returning to being just delayed. I’ll stay. Go bring Phichit to his room.”

“But, Celestino!” Phichit interjected.

Celestino shook his head. “No. You’re going to bed. You have early practice and press and a lot of other things to get through. If Yuuri was already here he’d be telling you the same thing. You’ll see Yuuri tomorrow; we both know that he’ll make sure of that.  Besides, aren't you the one who hates dealing with him when he’s cranky? And he’s going to be.”

Phichit stopped moving and nodded. “Point. He gets very cranky.”

Viktor bit his lip to stop from laughing and glanced at Yakov who was just shaking his head. “He’s not wrong. Yura can be very grumpy at times.” 

Yakov stood up. “Bed soon, Vitya. I mean it.”

“I know. I will. I promise. Just thirty more minutes? By then Chris will have finished his walk and I’ll be out of people to entertain me.”

Yakov sighed and patted his shoulder. “He’ll be here and he’ll skate. On the positive side, he’ll likely be so tired from being anxious over his flights he’ll sleep.” Yakov went to the elevator.

Kai had started arguing with Phichit, but seemed to be winning and was aiming the Thai skater toward the elevators.

“Kai, just one second.” Viktor made to stand up but she just looked over at him and shook her head.

“I’ll text her. Don’t want to hear it. I need to get this one up to his room.” She pushed him into the elevator with Yakov and then all of them were gone.

So Viktor was left with the Japanese Team Leader and Celestino just sitting in the lobby in a tense, uncomfortable silence, none of them saying anything and neither of the other two even acknowledging Viktor.  While the minutes dragged on, Viktor idly looked through instagram trying to pass the time, but nothing caught his interest.

He really needed to figure out Yuuri's secret instagram. No doubt he'd been posting things while stranded in the Netherlands. That would have been entertaining. Oh! Maybe he even used that layoverinams hashtag! Viktor started typing the hashtag into the search bar, but stopped midway when Celestino coughed loudly. He dropped his phone from in front of his face to look at Yuuri’s coach and smiled.

“Shouldn’t you go to bed?” Celestino looked at him, his annoyance clear.  Seemingly their temporary truce for getting Yuuri to nap at Skate America had come to an end.

Viktor shrugged. “Probably. But I’m waiting for Chris to finish his walk. Can’t be more well rested than the competition. Have to give them a sporting chance.”

Celestino visibly bristled. “You’re full of yourself, Nikiforov, and one of these days a skater is going to come around and knock you down a peg or three.”

Grinning, Viktor wondered if Celestino even knew that he was a coach to such a skater because he was pretty sure that Yuuri’s coach was the king of underestimating Yuuri.

[noteguk]

be quiet | jjk | m | drabble

[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. It can be read as a stand-alone. 

— summary; in which jungkook is the best at picking the worst possible place for a quickie. 

— contents and warnings; smut, pwp, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits, public sex (library), doing the nasty in the theology section, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mid-sex arguments, jk is a mean lil shit (nothing new), kind of dom!jk, creampie, oral (female receiving), cum eating, cum play

— words; 3.1k

— author’s note; this was requested by anon and I thought it would be a nice thing to drop before the angsty parts begin 😌 also, for time context, this happens a bit after “bad behavior”

~

You were pretty sure that Jungkook had chosen that section on purpose. Because he hated you, that’s why. 

Never once in your life had you wondered so far into the university’s library, past the known biology and chemistry shelves, and into the dusty alleyways of the humanities courses. And that was the shameful reason why you didn’t even know that there was a religious section in the first place. 

The realization was obvious if you actually stopped to think about it: there were so many classes related to theology in your university that it would be ridiculous not to have books on that. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel like the old, hardcover bible was staring at you in endless disappointment as Jungkook turned you around and threw the hem of your dress over your hips. 

“Shhhh, baby, keep it quiet,” he shushed you after a small whimper had escaped your lips, his palms spreading over your ass cheeks. “Someone’s gonna hear you.” 

Because Jungkook hated you (as previously established), he instantly contradicted himself with a loud slap against your ass. 

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” you hissed, fumbling closer to him as he tugged your underwear to the side. The cold air hit your wet folds instantly, spreading goosebumps through your skin. Jungkook was an expert at noticing the most timid, basic ways that your body reacted to his touches, so the clear asymmetry between your rough speech and the shivers running through your body was enough to make him snicker. “Keep it down. This isn’t funny.” 

Jungkook chuckled behind you, the sharp noise of his zipper opening sounding like a gunshot inside that quiet building. “No. It’s hilarious, actually.” 

You sighed, praying to all the books around you that no one would stumble across that erotic spectacle. You had no idea if there was another living soul wandering around the library so late — in fact, the place was like thirty minutes away from closing and you were positive that the librarian was already dozing off on the front counter when you arrived, so she was probably balls deep in REM sleep by that point. There was no one cramming for midterms, no night owls to interrupt the two of you and, just to top it all off, it was a fucking Friday. The library was so empty that you didn’t even know why you went to that place. 

Okay, that was a lie. You went there because Jungkook had booty called you — yeah, yeah, boo-hoo, shame and disgrace — but, in your defense, you honestly thought he was just in desperate need for some extra help with his project (which was what he had initially told you). Turns out, “extra help” in Jungkook Dictionary didn’t mean the academic one. It meant that he was pathetically hard and he wanted somewhere to stick his dick in (instead of doing it like a normal person and using his hand). 

Regardless, your position was equally embarrassing. You could’ve just walked away when you realized his true intentions, and not followed him into the theology section of the library, for fuck’s sake. You really needed to start exercising some self love and put some limits in that chaotic situationship before you got yourself in serious trouble. 

Still, all those mental promises turned into silence when you felt his fingers playing with your folds, teasing their way between them. “So fucking wet,” Jungkook’s horniness dripped from his voice like honey, so soft and deep that got your knees buckling, back arching so he could reach your heat better. “Such a needy girl. Always begging for cock.” 

“I didn’t beg for anything,” you weren’t in the mood to deal with his bullshit; looking over your shoulder just so you could stare him down. Somewhere along your messy make-out session and the Bible-induced guilt, Jungkook had already moved his pants and underwear halfway down his thighs, his cock standing erect and proud. His timing was fantastic when he was actually interested in something. “You’re the one that can’t keep it in your pants.” 

He scoffed. “Don’t ruin the mood.” Jungkook punctuated his sentence with the plunging of two of his fingers inside your pussy, making a surprised whimper fall from your mouth — which you suppressed a second too late. “And of course I can’t, not when you’re dressed like this.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the pleasure that started to build up at the pumping of his fingers in and out of you. “My knee-level dress is neither sexy nor an open invitation, you troglodyte.” You had chosen to wear that dress because it was a deliciously warm afternoon, not because you wanted to get railed while staring at religious texts. Jungkook, however, seemed to stare at your choice of clothing like he was looking at an “all you can eat” bouffet. You groaned. “But if you’re gonna do it, can you rush? I don’t wanna get caught.” 

It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as his digits left your heat. You knew he’d tease you endlessly if you didn’t say that, and you two were on a tight schedule. “You never do,” he mumbled. 

“Duh,” you said, watching as his hand curled around his cock, pumping it a few times. You placed your own hands on the shelves and refused to look at the books any longer. “I have a future, you know. Don’t wanna get expelled halfway through the—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted you, holding onto your hips. Jungkook aligned himself with your entrance, coating his crown with your wetness and grunting at the sensation. “Fuck. Don’t wanna talk about your stupid high marks right now.” 

Jungkook made his point clear with a swift roll of his hips, his thick length gradually entering your pussy. You bit down on your lip, closing your eyes as you marveled at the aphrodisiac sensation of his cock opening you up. “Shit,” you moaned — a whispered, breathy moan that wiped all your fierceness away. “You’re so — fuck — so annoying.” 

“I said shut up,” Jungkook hissed, his cock hitting deep inside you with a strong hit of his hips against yours. You could feel him everywhere, mercilessly pushing his way inside your tight walls and stretching them wide for him. 

Your eyes instantly fell shut, eyebrows raising as he started to set a rhythm, moving in and out of your soaked heat. The sounds of your bodies meeting was dirty and, worst of all, it was super perceptible to any one passing by — however, in typical Jungkook magic, you quickly forgot about most of your worries. “Oh my… Jungkook,” you gasped, feeling his grasp on your skin grow tighter at the uttering of his name. “Someone’s… someone’s gonna hear us.” 

But you had successfully managed to piss Jungkook off, which was a terrible sign in that specific (public) situation. “Shit, you’re always like this,” he groaned, raising the force of his thrusts. A desperate moan died on your throat at the feeling of his cock drilling in and out of you, your breath shallow. That couldn’t be good. “Can’t stop fucking talking.” 

Thinking was starting to get difficult, and speaking was even worse. “That’s not what I—”

Another whimper broke your sentence, your trail of thought long forgotten, and he used that opening to his advantage. One of Jungkook’s hands slithered from your hip to the front of your body, moving between your breasts before, at last, settling on your neck. There was no strength on his actions when he pulled you backwards, making your back press against his chest. “Why can’t you understand when I tell you to be fucking quiet, uh?” His voice was a rough growl close to your ear, filled with so much hunger that you almost lost your balance. Before you did, however, the tap of two of his fingers on your lips made your focus shift. “Do both of us a fucking favor and put your mouth to good use.” 

For the first time that night, you were obedient. Without hesitation, you parted your lips so his fingers could move inside your mouth, a deep exhale leaving his chest once you started sucking on them; muffling your whimpers. 

“That’s it, fuck,” he praised, his momentaneous anger slipping away from his grasp. You could feel Jungkook throbbing inside you every time you swirled your tongue around his digits, his length splitting you open like no one else could. “You’re so fucking tight. The only reason why I don’t stuff your mouth full of my cock right now is because this pussy is too good.” 

You clenched around him, tried to say something that sounded like gibberish with his fingers still in your mouth. Amazingly so, Jungkook understood what it was. 

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He asked, breathless. You could only nod, your body bouncing up and down with the force of his precise thrusts. “Yeah?” He chuckled. “You know, I should just leave you like this, see if you learn to shut up for once.” 

“Pfflease, no,” you struggled to get out. 

“No? Now you listen to what I have to say?” Jungkook kept teasing you, watching as your initial petulant attitude was washed away. Doing that to you seemed to be a habit that he couldn’t let go, no matter how hard he tried. There was something about the way you fumbled and whimpered under his grasp that inflated his ego more than anything. “You only listen when I have you like this. Don’t you think that’s funny?” 

Jungkook pulled his fingers out of your mouth, using that hand to press your body closer to his; tattooed arm wrapped in an iron grip around your waist. “Sorry,” you didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point; you were just trying to grasp at anything that could bring you some sort of salvation. Maybe if you tried to appease his pestering spirit, he wouldn’t be so cruel when it came to your release. “Jungkook, please.” 

“Please what?” He asked, his breath ragged against your ear; sounding like he was almost getting lost in your pussy. 

“Please let me cum, please,” you begged. You didn’t know how he managed to do it: to make your entire personality crumble down into a desperate, needy mess with little to no effort. He knew just the right buttons to push; just the right way to fuck you. It was a dangerous game that you were playing and the score clearly wasn’t in your favor. 

“I’ll think about it.” He groaned, a particularly loud moan ripping itself from his throat at another hash buckle of his hips. He was fucking your so well that you couldn’t even remember where you were for a second, all inihibitions pushed aside as your mind turned into a hazed, disconnected mess. “First, be a good girl and let me fill you up.” 

You nodded desperately, not trusting yourself to say anything else. The heat in your stomach was building up at a worrisome speed, threatening to spill over at any given second, and yet you didn’t think it would happen quick enough. 

Just as you expected, Jungkook was cumming a few thrusts later, spilling himself inside your pussy as he groaned against your shoulder. “Fuck, baby,” he was fighting for air, trying to keep his moans as quiet as he could manage them. And yet, when his mouth right next to your ear, you could hear with divine clarity the beautiful, airy sighs he gifted you as he continued to fuck you through his high. “Take it, come on. Fuck.” 

You were almost pleading for your own body to hush and allow you to cum before Jungkook pulled away but, once again, you weren’t that lucky. You were left with shaky legs as he removed himself from your heat; feeling awfully empty as he swirled you around before crashing his mouth against yours in a messy kiss. 

Yes, Jungkook fucked you like no one else could, but kissing him managed to be even more heavenly sometimes. Time and time again, he would surprise you with kisses that left you seeking for air; the slow drag of his tongue against yours matching perfectly with the way his hand cupped your cheek, thumb delicately caressing the skin. It was the eye of a hurricane, the tranquil skies before the storm hit, and you could get lost in it with such ease that it scared you sometimes. 

But then he pulled away, and the magic left you just as quickly as it had arrived. “J-Jungkook, I didn’t—“ 

“Shh, baby, I know.” Another tender kiss against your lips, and his mouth moved to your jaw, nibbling on the skin. “Gonna clean you up, princess. Don’t worry.” 

Brain too overwhelmed to react, you were left speechless as Jungkook trailed a path of sloppy kisses down your neck, sending shivers down your spine before, at last, getting down on his knees before you. A question got trapped in your throat, rapidly forgotten, when he raised one of your thighs and placed it over his shoulder. “Hold this up for me.” He signed at the hem of your dress, and you did as he requested, pulling the fabric to the level of your breasts. “That’s my girl.” 

A shivering sigh danced on your tongue as you waited for him to move, his eyes eagerly taking in the way his release dripped between your folds, mingling with your own wetness. Jungkook loved to watch his work. “So pretty,” Jungkook mumbled, as he always did; sounding like he was trapped in a daydream. Like you weren’t actually supposed to hear that. “Always so pretty for me.” 

You got lost in his praise for exactly two seconds before he was leaning in and pressing his mouth against your heat. Your hips buckled forward, barely held in place by his strong arms around your thighs. “Jungkook,” you called his name, making his dark eyes snap towards yours. His tongue prodded against your opening once, twice, teasing your pussy a few times before he licked his path up your slit, lips wrapping around your clit. “God, so good.” 

Jungkook hummed against your heat, lapping between your folds like he was a starved animal, not caring about the fact that his own cum was mixed with your arousal. You were starting to consider that maybe he had a bit of an oral fixation, because you never saw him so focused as when he had his face buried between your thighs; his tongue playing with your sensitive spots so eagerly that you couldn’t help but whine out his name. 

“Oh— Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling  as that familiar pressure started to build on the base of your spine. Your hands were sweaty, clenching onto the fabric of your flowery dress as Jungkook continued to moan and lick his way around your pussy. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Jungkook was looking up at you through the thick curtain of his messy hair, his devilish eyes sparking up in a silent dare for you to make a mess on his tongue. At the same time that he told you to keep quiet, you knew that he got off when you were loud — especially in a place like that, where the two of you could get caught. He was a fucking demon when he wanted to be, and he seriously didn’t have any trouble dragging you to hell along with him. 

The worst part was that you liked it. You liked it since the very first time he had you, liked the way he took your precious control away from you. You liked when he had you like that: a shivering, desperate mess hanging by a thread; dwelling in the fantastic sensation of his wet muscle prodding your entrance, fucking it open as he stared up at you like he could eat you whole. 

It was always the sight of Jungkook like that — between your thighs, eating you out like you were his favorite sweet — that pushed you over the edge. You pressed the back of your hand against your mouth, muffling your needy cries as you finally reached your high, his tongue still playing with your clit as you came down. Jungkook groaned as a small wave of your arousal dripped on him, his mouth expertly cleaning it up, just like he had promised. 

“S-Stop,” you whimpered, a violent shiver overtaking your muscles as you started to feel the effects of your sensitivity. “Too much.” 

After a final stroke of his tongue against your slick, Jungkook tugged your panties back in place and removed your thigh from his shoulder before, finally, he moved back to his feet. Your hand, weak, let go of the fabric and allowed your dress to collapse back into place, covering the mess between your legs. 

He smirked at your overwhelmed, fucked-out state as he tugged himself back inside his pants. The sound of his zipper was once again a noisy interruption, which brought along a new wave of panic as you remembered your location. 

You grabbed Jungkook’s wrist, twisting it around so you could look at his watch. “We have five minutes until closing time.” You sighed heavily, looking up at him with your typical irritated stare. His magic didn’t last for long, after all. “Why are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Jungkook raised one eyebrow, unable to hide the entertainment in his voice as he watched your expression. He ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing it back. “Incredibly handsome? Charismatic? Good at everything? Including eati—”  

“I was going to ask why do you have the inherent need to defile religious places, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” you interrupted. “By the way, this,” you pointed between you two, “is not happening again. So I hope you had a good last time.” 

Jungkook chuckled, holding your chin with his fingers. “This is like the third time you’re saying that, baby.” He pulled you in for a quick kiss, barely a tender press of his lips against yours. “But whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

 ~

Check out the rest of the bad influence collection!

Taglist: @youurkryptonite @taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @0901-1230

[matwith1t]

A/N: We’ve got the works here… Thank you to the anon for the request! I can’t find it, otherwise I would link, but here we are!! If you’re not 18+, please head over to my masterlist and read something a bit more fluffy!! I’d love to hear all of your thoughts… words of affirmation is my love language 🔥 I hope wherever you find yourself in the world, that you’re having a good day/evening!!

Request: When you start to want more than your friends-with-benefits arrangement with Mat, he rejects your suggestion. But after a few months apart, and after you found someone else, Mat rethinks his feelings for you // Ex-FWB With a Fluff Ending 

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut  // WC: 10K // Angst & Smut & Fluff

The two of you are not in love. At least not really.

He soothingly stroked your arm when you laid in bed together after a shared intimate moment. You threaded your fingers through his hair whenever he leaned his head on your shoulder. He calls you every Tuesday night because he knows that’s your busiest day of the week, and hearing his voice relaxes you. And you wear his last name on a hockey jersey because you know how much it excites him.

You keep his favorite snacks at your place. He keeps your favorite candle on his coffee table. You watch every hockey game. He respects your schedule. His laugh is your favorite sound. And your eyes are his favorite color.

But the two of you are not in love. At least…not really.

Sitting up against the headboard of your bed, you clutched the white linen sheets––that smelled like him––to your chest as you watched Mat tug his jeans over his legs. He bent down to grab his shirt that was thrown on the floor and easily slipped it over his head; as you savored the last seconds of seeing his bare chest.

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the bedroom floor to make sure he had everything. But even if he forgot something, you knew––just as well as he did––that he would be back.

Mat’s chuckle brought you out of your thoughts, “Don’t give me that look.”

The light-hearted chuckle you let out was exactly the opposite of how you felt on the inside as you watched him get ready to leave you. A sharp pang of heartache ripped through your chest as you rolled your eyes, “I’m just waiting until I have the place to myself.”

Mat paused his movements of fixing the chains around his neck to fit under his shirt to look up at you. The corners of his lips curved up in a smirk, “Excited to be alone?”

“It’ll be quiet.”

He let out a quiet hmpf as he took two steps forward to the foot of your bed where his shoes were. He bent down, out of sight, as he tied the laces together before popping up in a matter of seconds. With the way he looked around your room again; it was easy to convince yourself that maybe he was purposefully stalling. Maybe he wanted to stay with you just as much you wanted him.

You watched his movements carefully as he rounded your bed; thinking he was heading toward the door, you felt the tug of your heart follow him. But he stopped to stand next to you, head tilted as he looked down at you.

You pressed yourself further back against the headboard and held your breath.

He bent down, palms pressed flat on either side of you––trapping you under him like he had done just moments ago––and he leaned his face close to yours, “Any plans for the rest of the day?”

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes locked in on his, “Staying in bed all day.”

Mat raised his eyebrows as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours, “Alone?”

You gulped, “Alone.”

He let out another hmpf as he continued to stare at you. In such close proximity, you were able to see everything about him. You saw the little blemishes that dotted along his chin, dark creases under his eyes, and how there was a section of hair on his left eyebrow that stuck up, going the opposite direction of the shape. They were little imperfections, but they made your heart tighten in your chest when you thought about how you were the only person who was able to see him this close up.

At your answer, he smirked, “Think of me.”

Before you had any time to process as to why he said those words to you, he closed the barely there space between your faces, and met your lips in a slow, deep kiss. Your eyes closed. The familiar zip of ecstasy pumped through your veins whenever he kissed you, but right when your hand dropped the sheet that was covering up your chest to cup his cheek; Mat pulled away.

In one swift motion, he spun around on his heel as he left you to walk through the door.

Stunned at his abruptness of ending the kiss, you continued to stare at the door with your mouth hung open. And even after you heard the front door of your apartment close, signaling his final departure, you continued to stare at your bedroom door.

He was everything you’ve ever wanted. He was everything and more. And you couldn’t comprehend how effortlessly he acted whenever he walked away from you. Because whenever you left him, it was a struggle. It always either felt like a battle in your head on whether you overstayed your time at his place or if he wanted you to lay next to him as he curled an arm tightly around your waist.

With each time you gave in to staying between the sheets longer with him, you felt a piece of your heart break even more. Because it only prolonged the eventual ending of moments you savored with him before one of you left.

Mat didn’t know that you did have plans for after he left. You needed to water the plants, grocery shop, meet a friend for lunch, and do a few loads of laundry to start the week off. But like him, most of those plans quickly went out the door.

Because with the way he left you––The way he always left you––you wanted more of him. So with your plans easily abandoned, you sunk down further under the sheets, head tilted back on the pillow with your eyes closed.

And as you laid in bed alone, just like he asked, you thought of him.

–––

You were woken up by a kiss on your neck.

The faint sound of a film on the television could be heard in the background, the smell of burnt bread––presumably from a failed attempt at Mat making toast––wafted through his apartment, and you felt a layer warmer than any blanket on top of you. You laid on your back, eyes peeking open to adjust to the light, and stared down at the person draped on top of you.

With a faint smile, you lifted a hand and fiddled with the ends of Mat’s hair on the back of his neck. You felt his chest expand against yours with an intake of air, and with eyes just like yours, barely open, he smiled up at you.

“We fell asleep.”

You let out a soft laugh and continued to play with the ends of his hair, “And then you woke me up.”

Mat rolled his eyes as he slightly lifted himself up from you, palms pressed down on the couch next to your head, “I woke up not even five minutes ago.”

Not believing him, you let out a hum, “Mhm,” and continued to let your fingertips softly touch his skin.

Because with the smell of burnt toast, you knew he had woken up more than five minutes ago, yet he still came back to wrap his arms around you on the couch.

You slowly moved your fingertips on the back of his neck in slow circles, and when you saw him close his eyes, you knew you were doing something right. And at a slow pace that was tortuous for you touching him, your fingers moved to the side of his throat, up his cheek as you traced the bridge of his nose, and then through his hair. You combed your fingers through the front of his hair, but like every time, his hair flopped back onto his forehead in place.

He opened his eyes and you smiled.

With your hand running slowly through his hair, your eyes admired his face as he loomed over you. And like your slow movements, he slowly lowered his head to press a soft kiss on the base of your throat. You barely felt his lips brush against your skin with how delicate the touch felt. He pulled his lips away, but kept his head tucked into the crook of your neck. You shuddered slightly as you took a deep breath; preparing yourself for disappointment to flood your body by the end of your stay.

But you pushed that familiar feeling aside.

Swallowing thickly, you let the hand that ran through his hair drop down to his shoulder as you pulled him closer to you. Chests pressed together, you felt as if you were to explode any moment. Hot hair fanned your neck as Mat breathed heavily against your skin, not pressing his lips onto you any further until he had your permission.

Unable to wait any longer, you tugged on the ends of his hair, turned your head to expose more of your neck, and shallowly breathed out your agreed upon word for consent.

“Please.”

That word was all Mat needed to hear before he pressed his lips back on the same spot of your neck. But this time you felt him; felt his lips nip at your skin repeatedly. And when he sucked on your skin just a little too hard, a whimper escaped your lips.

The sound was encouraging enough for him, but you still slid an arm around his neck to pull him closer. With legs intertwined on, you bent your knee against the back of the couch, resting your sole on the back of his calf.

Mat slowly worked his lips up your throat, “Are you cold?”

His whisper was louder than the uncleanly thoughts swirling in your head.

“No,” you gasped out with eyes closed.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, goosebumps forming everywhere on your body, as the places where he deposited open mouthed kisses on your skin scorched like a wildfire. And like how you previously touched his face ever so slowly, he trailed his hands along your sides at an even agonizingly slower pace.

His hands wandered, fingertips eliciting a slight shudder from you every single time they dug a little deeper into your skin.

“You’re shivering,” Mat mumbled before closing his lips just underneath your jaw.

One of his hands slipped under your shirt and he rested his palm flat on your hip. You thought best to leave his observation unanswered as the mixed feeling of his hands and lips on your skin produced another moan. Both of you were silent from then on; Mat kneading the skin on your hip as his light stubble scratched your neck as he continued his trail of kisses.

Mat had one hand trailing up and down your thigh, as his other creeped further up your shirt, massaging your breast over your bra. He pressed his lips to the spot where your jaw met under your ear, slowly working his way across your jawline.

“Mat,” you pleaded, voice hoarse.

He placed a feather of a kiss at the corner of your mouth. And when you slightly turned your head, eyes finally open, you saw him already staring at you. But you didn’t have enough time to admire his face as you’d like. Sooner than anticipated, you two met in a kiss, his lips instantly parting yours and his tongue begging for an entrance.

The eagerness of his kisses contrasted his slow and gentle touches on your skin. It threw you off for a moment, but Mat made a low, almost inaudible, sound in the back of his throat. His tongue met yours at the same time his hand squeezed your breast and you let your fingers dance across his back.

As your body heated up, so did the movements between the two of you.

The two of you parted for a moment to discard your shirts, Mat staring down at you intently. He looked troubled, eyebrows pulled together in concentration as his shoulders expanded in a deep breath. As you tried to catch your breath, you tilted your head to the side with a shy smile and tucked a section of his hair behind his ear.

Mat contradicted your gentle movement.

He brought a hand to his mouth, sliding his index finger and middle finger between his lips. Below him, you watched in fascination, both excited and terrified at the amount of disappointment already brewing in the pit of your stomach.

Mat brought his fingers out of his mouth, and in an act of arrogance, he raised his eyebrows and smirked. But before you could lean up and trap him in a kiss, his hand crept under the material of your underwear, wet fingers gliding over you, between your slit. On instinct, your eyes closed and your head fell back onto the pillow.

His fingers were languid at first, slow and steady as they became acquainted with the sensitive area. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and sucked in a deep breath. His movements were excruciatingly slow. Every time the pads of his fingers brushed your clit, your breath shortened, catching in your throat.

You gripped onto his shoulder for support, your hand moving to the back of his neck, urging him toward you. You held Mat close for a kiss and he instantly deepened it. He made the concentrated grunt in the back of his throat again as you felt his bulge against your thigh. The hand he had on your breast trailed down your chest, across your rib cage until he could hook an arm around your waist.

His arm tightened around you as he urged your thighs even further apart with his knee. His middle finger began to move in circles over your clit, gentle at first, then increasing in pressure. You sighed, grabbing onto his shoulder even tighter. When his speed increased, you couldn't fight the moan that escaped your lips, and you broke the kiss to bury your head in the crook of his neck.

His fingers worked harder. And you felt an euphoric sensation that sat low in your gut as it began to build and build until it overpowered disappointment. A feeling that enraptured you––A feeling you only wanted to share with Mat––spread to the tips of your toes.

You bucked your hips against Mat’s hand, letting out an uneven breath against his shoulder. He kept going, encouraging you to let it happen. And so you did. You allowed yourself to be consumed with the feeling of Mat.

Beneath him was the closest place you had found to a heaven on earth.

But when his movements slowed and his hand came out from your underwear, your high came crashing down. As if the previous experience of pleasure hadn’t just happened, you felt numb. The spark of euphoria you felt electorate your body was no more, and instead, you welcomed back disappointment.

This was your routine with him. The passive day spent at his place when neither of you had any other commitments started and ended the same way every time. Every time it started with excitement, curious as to what the day had in store. And then the excitement sparked into mutual desire for one another. And then, like every time, it ended with disillusionment.

“Stop,” you whispered.

Immediately, Mat removed his hands from you and sat up on the couch.  

He sat on the other cushion from you, chest slightly heaving as he stared down at you in concern, “Are you okay?”

Still reeling in how your emotions went from one hundred to zero in a matter of seconds, you shook your head.

“You need to talk to me,” he looked panicked, and it bruised your heart even more, “Please.”

The breath you took in was audible, cutting through the tension, as you leaned over and picked up your shirt. Hastily, you covered yourself up and tucked yourself into the corner of the couch. With your knees bent, and arms curled around your legs, you stared at Mat who hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

At the sound of your voice, he looked calmer, but that didn’t do away with the anxiety in his eyes, “Do what?”

“This…Do what we’re doing,” you pinched the bridge of your nose as you saw the puzzle pieces of your words connecting in his mind, “Being whatever we are.” You felt your bottom lip tremble as the exhaustion from all of your rendezvouses with Mat caught up to you, “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Why?”

You could see it in his eyes that he knew why you were cutting off the arrangement. He was more intune with other people’s emotions than he led on, which made this confrontation even more gut wrenching. Because with your admission would come his answer.

He had seen you at your most vulnerable moments, comforted you in times of need, been the reason for your earth shattering blisses for a little over a year, and the two of you shared intimate moments together without either of you stripping off your clothes. And like how he knew what you were about to confide in him, you knew what his answer would be.

You never thought he would be this cruel and have you say what you wanted aloud.

“I want more than this,” your words were direct with your desire, but the undertone in your voice was unsteady, “The––The feeling I have with you can’t be compared to anyone else. I feel so happy with you and it––You make me feel like a better person.” You bit the inside of your cheek as he stared through you, “Can’t we be more than this?”

He blinked once. Looked down into his lap. Blinked again. Ran a hand through his hair. Blinked for a third time. And when he looked up at you, his eyes were still lifeless and dull.

“You know I can’t give you that.”

You knew what disappointment felt like. You felt it every time he kicked the covers off and got dressed to leave you. You felt it every time one of his friends made a passing comment after they won a hockey game about how Mat could paint the town red as you sat next to him. You had even felt it fifteen minutes ago, when Mat had you trembling underneath him.

Disappointment was synonymous with Mat. But that didn’t make the let down any easier.

You let out a shaky breath, tears stinging behind your eyes that threatened to fall at any moment. But he had seen too much of you that afternoon for you to dispense any more emotion in front of him.

With your eyes downcast on your twiddling thumbs in your lap, you let out an almost inaudible half whisper, “Why?”

Mat released the breath he was holding, and scanned your face that felt like it would crumble any moment, “I…” He ran a head through his hair, letting out a shaky breath, as he racked his mind for an excuse, “You know I can’t. There’s––I’m not around that often, I wouldn’t be able to––”

“But we spend time together,” you croaked out, “We spend so much time together.”

With Mat’s failed excuse, he was silent.

And as the two of you stared at each other in silence; Mat’s eyes emotionless and your vision blurred with tears…There was no battle in your head wondering if you’d overstayed your visit or Mat wanted you next to him.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, but you wiped it away fast with the palm of your hand. You sniffled back the rest of your tears, lungs burning as they barely expanded with your deep breath. His eyes followed your figure as you stood up from the couch, and the more you stared at him, the more you felt your heart slowly fall apart because there was no convincing yourself of anything with him anymore.

The silence hung thick in the air like the regret on both of your faces as you made your way to his door. The further you walked away from him, the further you could feel the strings of your heart that connected to him stretch. They were exceeding their limit, and with one foot out the door, you felt the harsh snap that finally disconnected your heart from Mat when he spoke up.

“Are we done?”

His voice carried softly over the silence, but it was the sharpest pain you felt.

With a jagged breath, you gave him an answer without turning around, “I want someone. Someone who can give me more than this.” And with your back to him, you let your tears silently fall as they pleased, but kept your voice just as soft as his, “And I wish it was you.”

Without waiting for a response you knew he wasn’t going to give, you left him the way he always left you; alone.

–––

You missed him.

You missed the way he made you feel.

You missed the way his head felt on your shoulder when you rode the subway together. You missed the way his voice reassured you after a long Tuesday. You missed the way your heart fluttered whenever you heard him laugh. But most of all, you missed the way he always encouraged you to be the best version of yourself.

You missed him.

So you called him.

Your call came at one in the afternoon on Sunday, two months since the last time you had spoken to each other, and he picked up. You didn’t say a hello. And you didn’t ask how he was. You only said that you wanted him to come over.

“I thought you said you wanted someone?” Mat’s voice ached through the phone as if he replayed the last moment he saw you in the doorway, “I thought you wanted something more.”

“I just want you,” you breathed out in response to him, “Please.”

And before you had any chance to retract your request from him, he rushed out that he was on his way over and hung up.

Pacing around in the kitchen, you tried not to think of the consequences that would follow this meetup. It had been so long since you had seen Mat, but the only thing you wanted was familiarity. And your intentions over the phone were as clear as Mat’s rejection of you two months ago.

A few hurried knocks on your door interrupted the concern floating in your head. With a deep breath, and a little anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach, you walked over to the door and opened it. The first thing you did was push away the feeling of disappointment in your gut and admired his face.

Unlike the slight stubble he had the last time you saw him, his face was clean shaved. He looked more youthful, but his eyes were tired and filled with longing. They were missing their usual gleam, but the longer his eyes stayed on you, you began to see the familiarity in them. And he was dressed rather nicely––a button up shirt, dress pants, and a belt––as if he had just came from an important brunch.

Whenever either of you showed up at the other’s place, both of you knew what the purpose of the visit was. But before hands wandered and eyes closed…You would always talk through a film together, travel on the subway for take out and a bottle of wine, or run menial errands together because Mat was always too lazy to do them himself. But with how you left him two months ago––confessing to wanting something more and he only wanting something physical––Neither of you knew how to approach the situation.

With a deep breath, you stepped back to let him into your apartment and closed the door. You made the call, so you made the first move.

You kept your eyes on your feet as you slowly took a step toward him. When the tips of your toes touched his shoes, you finally looked up at him. The two of you were so close together, but you had never felt further away from him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He whispered like a secret as if the two of you weren’t the only ones in your apartment.

You nodded your head, “Yes,” you gulped when you felt the tips of his fingers graze your palm, “One last time.” And when you finally looked into his eyes, they were dark with lust and despair, “Please.”

And with that word, Mat didn’t waste any time before he grabbed your hips, bringing you toward him in one swift tug, and crashed his lips onto yours. There wasn’t anything gentle about it––he knew what he wanted. But perhaps there were some unresolved feelings he hadn’t uncovered from your last conversation as his fingers softened against your skin.

Not expecting for Mat to be so determined with the first kiss, you let out a squeak of surprise. But he deepened the kiss and you melted into him with ease, molding your body around his as your arms locked around his neck. His tongue clashed with yours, hands gliding up your back until he was able to cup the back of your neck.

“Are you sure,” he murmured against your lips as both of you paused for a breath. He walked you backwards until you pressed up against the opposite wall, not too far from your bedroom, “That this will be the last time?”

You nodded fervently, sticking with your head as your heart fought to overpower your logic. He kissed you again as a strangled sigh escaped your lips, “Last time,” you whispered. Your eyes lowered away from his skeptical stare as you fiddled with the ends of his shirt.

Mat tilted your chin up with his index finger, trapping your lips as if he was trying to convince you that he didn’t want this to be the last time. He wrapped his right arm around your back and squeezed your right hip. He kissed you hard, eager to prove how much he wanted you.

Like every time he kissed you, you were left out of breath. And when you felt well and truly breathless, Mat trailed his lips across your cheek to your jaw, down your neck, and up to your ear, where he whispered words that caused your eyes to fly open.

“If it’s the last time, then let’s make sure you remember it.”

His words paired with his lips nipping on your neck, made you unable to form a coherent sentence. And you were sure he was able to feel the gulp you swallowed as you tilted your head to the side to give him more access.

Once his lips trailed up your neck, he was quick to collide his lips with yours, his body pressing flush against you as his hands trailed up and down your sides. You whimpered into his mouth, submitting all control to him.

“Bedroom,” you breathed against his lips.

At your request, Mat pressed two more kisses to your lips before he connected his hand with your to pull you into your room. He slammed the door closed, as if he wanted to keep the whole world out from prying on the way he would inevitably make you feel.

In a flurry, Mat unclasped his watch from his wrist and kicked off his shoes while you took off your socks. Neither one of your clothes were fully removed before he grabbed onto you again. You didn’t want to think how this would be the last time you were pressed up against him, and it seemed like he was eager to keep you from doing the same.

Mat had you against the wall, his hands massaging your breasts through your dress as you messed up his hair even more with your fingers. You whimpered into his mouth, which spurred him on, and he ground his hips roughly into yours, sending the familiar electric jolt of electricity through your bones to the tips of your toes.

He repeated the process while grazing his hands down your sides and grabbing a handful of your dress, tugging it up. But if this was going to be your last time together, you wanted him to remember it too. You were busy popping the buttons on his collared shirt, and unlatching his belt. The way you successfully undid his pants without looking, while nibbling on his lower lip, was a testament that you were sticking true to your word.

Mat thought you were done, so he moved his hands back up to your breasts, but you knocked his hands out of the way, gliding one hand down his exposed chest before boldly plunging your hand into his pants. Mat moaned against your lips, forcing your head to tilt back so that he could kiss you even harder.

Gently squeezing him outside his boxer-briefs, you noted that he was already growing in your hand. But you knew him well enough to know that he wanted to move things faster. So you slid your hand past the elastic waistband of his underwear and grabbed hold of him.

Mat broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, “Fuck,” he swore under his breath.

You pulled your bottom lip between your lips in concentration, and focused your eyes on Mat’s face as you gently grabbed him at the base. Instantly, his breathing shallowed. You trailed your thumb along his length to gauge his reaction before slowly sliding your hand up and then back down.

After a few swipes, Mat placed one hand beside your head, palm flat against the wall to support himself. In his other hand, he held a gathered handful of your dress, fingers digging into you hip to hold you steady. Feeling him respond underneath to your touch, you increased your pace. Mat’s eyes closed instinctively, gulping through parted lips as his breathing came in sharp uneven puffs.

“That good?” You asked, brushing your lips against his earlobe.

Mat grunted before responding, “Yeah.” His voice was thick and guttural, and you loved the way it reverberated in your ear, as if it was only meant for you, “Yeah––That’s good. More.”

His head dropped to your shoulder as you continued to pump him at a steady pace, and you marveled at the fact that he was completely at your mercy. But Mat wasn’t at your mercy for much longer. He managed to find the strength to pause his breathy curses to whisper in your ear, “I don’t know how much longer I can wait before I take you.”

You turned your head to meet his lips for a prolonged kiss. As soon as your hand was out of his underwear, and his pants were pooled around his feet, Mat spun you around to face the wall, as you heard the sound of your dress unzip all the way down. His fingers were anything but unhurried, but you still felt as if Mat was taking his time unzipping your dress as you felt his knuckles graze against your the ridges of your spine.

When he was successful in unzipping the dress, he slipped it off you in one fluid motion. But before you could turn around, his chest was flat against your back as his hand snaked around your hips and dipped into your underwear, discovering that you were just as ready for him as he was for you.

“God,” Mat moaned, dragging his lips along your shoulder to your neck as he slid a finger inside of you.

You tilted your head to give him more access, and the combination of your skin between his teeth and his finger curled inside you while his thumb stimulated your clit was too overwhelming. And as you felt yourself slightly shudder from the familiar sense of pleasure Mat gave you, he slid your underwear off your hips. He removed himself from your back as you stepped out of your underwear and Mat picked his jeans up from the floor and dug around the pocket for his wallet.

Frantically, he opened it in, and when he found the condom he looked for, he let everything drop to the floor.

He pulled you forward, hungrily kissing you before gripping the backs of your thighs, “Bed.”

With your arms around his neck, all you did was nod in agreement as you felt his hardness between you. He let his hands trail up from your thighs to your hips as he guided you to the few feet of room that separated the two of you from your bed. Once you felt the mattress hit the back of your calves, you unhooked one arm from Mat’s neck to brace yourself for the fall.

But Mat was faster. He hooked one of his strong arms around your waist to pull you ever so close to his chest as he slowly let you down on the mattress. And as you inched your way backwards, his hurried kisses slowed down the tiniest bit as if he wanted to prolong you beneath him for as long as possible. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, you underneath him as Mat cupped your cheek, savoring every kiss like it was his last.

But both of you unable to hold off on the reason why you called him over in the first place, the hand that cupped your cheek dropped and you heard the sound of the condom packaging tearing. With a breath, you opened your eyes right as he finished rolling on the condom.

“Ready?” he said huskily with his forehead pressed against yours.

You nodded, breath ragged as you felt him against your thigh, “Yes.”

With that, he guided himself inside of you, crawling up your torso as he pushed in inch by inch. Like every time you found yourself in this position, your eyes instinctively closed, your jaw dropped at the sensation of feeling this close with him, and you released a satisfied sigh.

You felt Mat’s breath on your cheek as he grabbed your hip with one hand, steadying you before pulling out almost all the way. You gasped at the loss of contact, but your breath was stolen when he slammed back in.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, throwing your head back when he pulled out and then connected your hips again.

The third, fourth, and fifth time…you conceded to him and let him do what he pleased. Entirely out of breath, you simply let your mouth hang open as you waited for him to press into you again.

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Mat said with his eyebrows raised in amusement, as his next thrust penetrated you a bit more gentle, “And I’ll stop.”

Unable to speak as he continued to thrust into you, you shook your head. You tucked a piece of hair behind his ear as your hand dropped to his strong back, “This is––This is good,” you gasped out as you felt him deeper inside of you, “You’re doing amazing.”

At your praise, the amusement in his eyes vanished as he let out deep breath through his nostrils.

He adopted a steady rhythm, neither too fast or slow, but with the force he thrusted into you at, it had you quickly feeling like you were going over the edge. You dug your nails into his back, and when he spread your legs even wider, the sensation he made you feel became even more intense. You bit the inside of your cheek, but the moans came anyway, begging him for more.

“That’s it,” Mat said through broken breaths, not even flinching when your nails scraped his shoulder blades, “Are you close?”

Whimpering, you nodded enthusiastically.

Satisfied, Mat grasped your hips and practically lifted them off the bed for each thrust. Barely able to see straight, and feeling entirely out of control, there was a flame burning in your lower gut, shooting out tingles that zipped up every vein of your body. And there was absolutely nothing you could do to hold onto the feeling of how he felt buried inside of you.

Mat knew you reached your peak when you could no longer assist in the thrusting and was left disorientated with slow breaths. Mat sped up his pace, driving himself into a state of bliss shortly after and collapsed on top of you.

After a minute or two of Mat trying to catch his breath from on top of you, he raised his head, relieving some of the weight on top of you. He didn’t say anything, just looked down at you with gentle eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek.

You shut your eyes tight, revelling in the euphoria that lingered in your body for the last time with Mat.

With your eyes still shut tight, you felt Mat shift around. You could feel your throat close up as you expected the inevitable to happen, but when you felt the warmth of your duvet that had fallen off the bed cover you––and felt a strong arm wrap tight around your waist––you let out a sigh of relief.

Your back was pressed against his chest as you felt him also let out a sigh of relief, as if he expected you to ask him to leave.

He soothingly stroked your arm and pressed a featherlight kiss to your shoulder as the two of you laid in silence.

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open, fighting the drowsiness taking over your body for as long as you could. Because once your breathing evened out, and your eyes closed, you knew he would be gone. So, you savored the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms one last time. And you savored the silence that allowed yourself to slip into a dream of what it would really feel like if he reciprocated your feelings.

You found solace in the silence surrounding him.

–––

You met someone else.

In the four months it had been since you had last been with Mat, you had met someone else.

He was nice; someone who was prepared for commitment. But he didn’t like to ride the subway, and he didn’t like to lean his head on your shoulder. He never called you on a Tuesday night. His laugh caused you to smile, but it wasn’t an ear-to-ear smile. And he liked to watch movies in silence.

You met someone else.

But you still found yourself comparing him to Mat.

Whenever those thoughts creeped into your mind, you tried your best to push them out. The only way Mat was in your life anymore was if you tuned into an Islanders game. But the boy you met didn’t like to watch hockey that much, so it was rare you caught a game.

Not watching an Islanders game wasn’t the end of the world, after all, you did run in the same social circle, so you saw him occasionally. But your sentences were always kept short…That was if either of you approached the other, which was more rare than you watching him on the television. But you had never seen Mat when you were with Noah, the new boy you had started seeing after you ended your friends with benefits with Mat.

But there was a first time for everything.

You were at a friend’s house, a mutual friend between you and Mat, so you shouldn’t have frozen up when you saw him walk through the door. In the kitchen, you stood with Noah, who had an arm draped over your shoulder, and some friends. You tried your hardest to contribute to the conversation, but like always, Mat distracted you without trying.

From the way his hair was messily styled, but looked put together at the same time, to the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled…You couldn’t help but admire him. He was in the middle of laughing, and you felt the corners of your mouth tug upward, but then his eye caught yours and his laughter died down. Sad that you couldn’t hear your favorite sound anymore, you saw his eyes narrow in on the arm around your shoulder.

“Everything alright?” Noah whispered in your ear.

You broke eye contact with Mat just as you saw the faintest bit of pain in his eyes.

Tilting your head up toward Noah, you smiled tightly and lied, “Never better.”

He chuckled, pressed a kiss to your temple and went back to conversing with your friends. Immediately, your eyes went back to where you last saw Mat, but he wasn’t there. You scanned the crowd frantically, afraid you lost your chance to hear his laugh again, but when one of your friends called him over to join your circle, you lost your breath.

Mat stood across from you, jaw slightly clenched and his knuckles that held a beer bottle were a few shades lighter than his skin tone. He greeted everyone he knew, but when it came to you, he barely offered you a smile before turning his attention to Noah.

“I don’t think I know you.”

Your jaw dropped at Mat’s bluntness, and a few of your friends snickered. Being friends with benefits with Mat wasn’t a secret from your friends, but the two of you never really talked about it around them, and none of them knew why things ended.

“I’m Noah,” he introduced himself, an easy smile on his face because you had never breathed a word about Mat to him, “Nice to meet you. And you are?”

“Mat,” he said his own name with a sharp undertone, and his eyes glanced back down at Noah’s hand around softly tracing his nails up and down your shoulder. His eyes softened for a split second, before he heavily breathed through his nostrils, raising his eyebrows at Noah, “And the two of you are…”

“Mat,” you snapped at him with a glare before Noah could answer the question.

You had been seeing Noah for a little under two months, and your relationship didn’t have a title on it. Which you were fine with since the two of you agreed to take things slow, and Noah reassured you he was committed to you. Because at least with Noah, he expressed that he wanted a relationship with you. Mat never gave that to you.

Mat shrugged his shoulders, knowing full well what his intentions were. He smirked slightly before raising the glass bottle to his lips; and he dropped the question as he engaged in conversation with your friends.

Throughout the night, you kept catching Mat’s glare on Noah, but when he looked at you, there was a fondness that you’d never seen in the time you spent with him. He always had gentle eyes, always knew how to draw you in with one look, but there was a sense of regret swirling about whenever he looked at you.

You had moved into the dining room, standing in the corner of the room with Noah, as you felt like a schoolgirl with a crush as he held your hand and told you how pretty you looked. He squeezed your hand, and just as he tilted his head to lean forward in a kiss, he pulled back, straightened his posture, and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him as his eyes scrunched together in confusion as he looked down at the ground.

“I think a ping pong ball hit me?”

Your eyes dropped to the ground with his, and right behind his heel, you saw an orange ping pong ball. Immediately, you picked your head up and stared over his shoulder to see Mat with his vision locked on you in the corner. Your jaw clenched as tight as his, because you had been his beer pong partner more than enough times to know how competitive he became, and how he never wasted a shot.

You glared at him the same time he softened his gaze.

Bending down, Noah picked up the ping pong ball and returned it back to Mat’s team. He didn’t know that Mat had intentionally ruined a moment between the two of you. You stood in the corner with Noah for a few minutes longer until you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Once you finished up in the bathroom, you were fully prepared to go back out with Noah. But when you opened the bathroom door, and saw an anxious looking Mat, you knew he would sabotage your night once more. Before you could say anything, he made his way into the bathroom, and locked the door.

“Mat, what are you doing––”

“Just hear me out,” he rushed out as he ran a hand through his hair, “Please.”

If that last word didn’t hold so much meaning to your relationship with Mat, you would’ve pushed past him and left him alone after the stunts he pulled earlier. But with his eyebrows pulled together, tormented eyes wide with anxiety, the least you could do was honor his request.

So with a deep breath, you crossed your arms over your chest and nodded your head.

Mat cleared his throat and tucked a piece of his hair behind his right ear, and then tucked a piece of hair behind his left ear, “I––How was your Tuesday?”

His small talk threw you off, but you played along, “It was fine.” With a single breathy laugh, Mat raised his eyebrows at your answer, and waited in silence until he got a truthful answer. With a roll of your eyes, you huffed, “It sucked. Like always.”

“Do you talk to Noah about your Tuesday’s?”

“I don’t think we should talk about this,” you dropped eye contact with him and reached out for the door. But Mat blocked your exit. You tried stepping around him, but he mirrored your movement. With a sigh, you dropped your shoulders, “What do you want, Mat?”

With your question, his face grew serious and he took a step toward you.

“What do I want…” He hummed and took another step toward you. Ever so slowly, like the last time you met at your apartment, he reached the tips of his fingers out to touch the inside of your palms, “I want to eat my favorite snacks on your couch, lay in bed together, see you wear my jersey again…” He wiggled his eyebrows at his last desire, but before you could shove his shoulder at his show of arrogance, he quickly reached down to lace his fingers with yours.

“I want to hear about your Tuesday’s,” his voice shrank, but when he looked into your eyes, he offered you the smallest of relaxed smiles, “I miss the color of your eyes.”

At a time and place in the past, this was exactly what you wanted to hear. It was everything and more you wanted to hear, but it had come months too late.

The moment you dropped his hand was the same time the smile on his face dropped.

“I’m with Noah now,” you took a step back, “I––I’m with someone else now.”

Mat rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm and when he removed his hands, you saw a harsh pain in them that could only be classified as regret that he caused himself, “Please,” he pleaded with you and took a step forward to catch your hands again. But you stepped back, “Seeing you with him tonight it––Or even when we were together months ago, just imagining you with someone else––”

“That’s not fair,” you felt a painful sting behind your eyes, “I told you I wanted more, but you said no.” He was silent and you sniffled, “You can’t say this now.”

“I miss you,” he gulped, and again, he stepped forward and reached out for you, “I’ve never missed anyone as much as I miss you––”

You shook your head, clamping your lips together trying to block out all of the words you wanted him to say to you months ago, “Mat, stop––”

But like you didn’t want to hear his confession of feelings, he didn’t want to hear that he was too late, “It’s just…Fuck,” he swore under his breath, and shook his head as he looked down at the ground, having trouble stringing the right words together. But when he looked up at you, you could clearly see the inner-turmoil he had gone through over the past months, “I can’t even lose you because I don’t have you.”

The suffering behind his voice caused a single tear to roll down your cheek.

He stepped aside, removing himself from blocking the exit. With a sharp inhale, he sucked in a deep breath, holding it in––just like the tears behind his eyes––as he accepted defeat, “I never had you, did I?”

Unable to stand in his presence any longer without feeling like you were going to sob, you quickly brushed past him and through the door with clouded vision from holding in your tears.

As you left the party, not bothering to tell anyone you were making an early departure, the only thing you could think of was that he did have you. Even if he never thought he did…He had you months ago when you started your friends with benefits. He had you all the time during your arrangement. He even had you when you left him alone on his couch after ending things. And now more than ever, even though you were with someone else, he still had you.

He would always have you in some way.

–––

Your relationship with Noah didn’t progress.

Whether it was due to the fact he never picked up on how Tuesday’s were your worst days or how he picked up on you being distant ever since that party…A relationship never progressed with him.

A month and a half had passed since that party where Mat had you in the bathroom and confessed his feelings for you. Admittedly, you imagined the moment to be sweeter than the heartache both of you felt in that tiny room, but he had said all the words you dreamed about.

You also missed the way he slowly stroked up and down your arm after an intimate moment. You missed the way his hair tickled your neck when he leaned his head on your shoulder. You missed the way he always lit your favorite candle at his place, and always had a backup in case the candle burned out. And most of all, you missed the sound of his laugh.

The month and a half had been miserable. You didn’t have Mat. And you didn’t have anyone who could replace him. So when a particularly hard day came around, you were too exhausted to care that you might not have Mat anymore.

He picked up halfway through the second ring.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, airy, as he breathed in a few breaths, waiting for you to say something. But when all he heard was a shaky breath, he spoke with an even more gentle tone, “Not a good Tuesday?”

Sitting on your couch, wrapped up in a blanket pretending it was someone’s arms around you, you clenched your jaw and shook your head. You felt your throat close up as you sniffled, “No.”

“Is there…What can I do?”

“Come over,” you whispered. And with the way your quivering voice––especially on a Tuesday––Mat knew that all you wanted was a hug, and for someone to say everything would eventually be okay, “Please.”

“Sit tight,” you could faintly hear a smile toying on his face, “I’ll be there within the hour.”

As much as you wanted to stay on the line with him, because even hearing his breathing on the other end calmed you down, you knew he couldn’t be on the phone when he traveled to you. Reluctantly, you hung up after breathing out a nearly inaudible okay.

And like every promise Mat made, he arrived at your place––with a container of soup––within the hour.

You tightened the blanket around your shoulders when you saw him standing in your doorway. He wore sweatpants, a sweatshirt from a year the Islanders made it to the playoffs, and scuffed up sneakers with the laces barely tied together.

Stepping aside, you welcomed him into your apartment, and he wordlessly walked in and headed toward your kitchen. Blindly, you followed him. He set the container down on your small kitchen table and then bent down to open the cabinet where you kept your pots. He poured the soup in the pot, turned the burner on medium, took down two bowls from a cabinet above the stove, and then opened your silverware drawer for two spoons.

He moved around your home like he had never left.

Once everything was in place, Mat turned around the same time he released a deep breath. And with one look at you, his smile was dismal, and his eyes brimmed with sadness thinking about all of the Tuesday’s you had to deal with by yourself.

Neither of you had to say any words to express how lonely you both felt without each other.

You had barely taken two steps toward him when he instinctively opened his arms for you. Barreling into him, his arms felt better around you than the blanket you had wrapped tight around you for the last few hours. With a shaky breath, you breathed in his scent, and you noticed that he smelled like your favorite candle.

Even with your layers of clothes, and the blanket you had, you still felt the heat of his fingers and palms as they softly ran up and down your back, “You’ll be okay.”

With eyes squeezed tight, you gasped for another breath.

“We can talk about it over soup,” Mat whispered as one hand went from your back to soothingly stroke up and down your arm.

You nodded your head against his chest.

The two of you stood in the middle of your kitchen, leaning against each other, until the soup was finished heating up. He took a ladle, poured the soup into two bowls, and carried them to your living room. You followed him, skeptical as to why he didn’t sit at the table, but when you saw him carefully sit cross-legged on your couch––waiting for you to sit across from him––you faintly smiled.

You dropped the blanket from your shoulders, and mirrored Mat’s cross-legged position on the couch. With a bowl of steaming hot soup in each of your laps, you unloaded your treacherous Tuesday to him. And he listened. He listened intently; asking questions where appropriate and reassuring you that the best thing you can do right now is be the best possible version of yourself.

After the soup was finished, the two of you stayed on the couch; you twiddling your thumbs, and Mat tucking his hair nervously behind both of his ears, because neither of you knew where to go from here.

But like all of the times you had been with Mat, he braved through the uncertainty and went after what he desired.

He stretched his limbs out on the couch, feet brushing against your thighs as he lifted his arms over his head. His eyes shut tight as he let out a yawn, and then extended a hand out to you. A small smile made its way onto your lips as you reached out for his hand and he pulled you down into his chest. A laugh escaped your lips as he pulled you into him, both of his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you in place.

And as you settled between the back of the couch cushion and Mat, you listened to his rapid heartbeat as he played with the cotton fabric of the navy blue shirt you wore.

“Is this my shirt?”

You shook your head no against his chest, “It’s mine.”

Mat let out a soft chuckle as he pinched your hip, “I know it’s your shirt, but it…You’re wearing my last name.”

You lifted your head from its soft place on his chest and awkwardly turned your head over your shoulder to see for yourself. And just like he had said, you were able to make out a B-A-R and the number 13 in orange writing. When you got home from your long Tuesday, it was the first thing you saw when you changed into lounge wear. And lucky enough for Mat, it just so happened to be his last name and number.

“I didn’t intentionally wear it,” you mumbled into his chest as his fingertips lightly grazed your bicep. You inhaled an uneven breath, nervous that he might be thinking you called him over for the wrong reason, your voice dropped to a whisper, “I…I didn’t call you over that,” he squeezed your shoulder, reassuring you he knew, “You always make me feel better.”

“More than just on a Tuesday?”

“More than a Tuesday.”

You smiled against his chest and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Lifting your head up, you placed both palms flat on Mat’s chest, and leaned your chin on the tops of your hands and peered up at him, “I’m so tired now, but I want to talk in the morning.”

Mat nodded, “I want to talk too.”

“Do you have morning skate?” You readjusted your head so that it rested just on his collarbone, enough room for Mat to rest his cheek against your forehead.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “I do, but I’ll work around your schedule.” You nodded against his chest, ready for sleep, but Mat’s gentle whisper kept you awake for a few more moments, “I want this,” his voice was almost lost under the hum of the air conditioning starting up, “I want something more with you. I want to make it work.”

You pressed a soft kiss to the base of his neck and he tightened his hold around your shoulder, emphasizing his seriousness.

As the two of you laid on the couch, right as you almost fell into a deep sleep, Mat groggily mumbled about how you needed to sleep in your bed to feel better on Wednesday. Despite your unwillingness to move, you sleepily move off Mat with eyes barely open. And just like how he moved around your kitchen, he took hold of your limp hand in his and pulled you along to your room.

You did your night time routine, and when you slipped under the covers, you saw Mat stand by the doorway, prepared to make an exit. But as you clutched your white linen sheets to your chest in a fist, one hand lazily rubbed your drowsy eye.

“Stay,” you said through your yawn, “Please.”

“Okay.”

Mat rushed through his bedtime routine and quickly slid in under the sheets. Much like your position on the couch, he curled an arm around you and you laid the side of your face on his chest. As both of your breathing evened out, slow and unhurried, you knew you were on the same wavelength.

And as you felt yourself begin to lose consciousness of reality and slip into your dreams, you fell asleep with a smile. Because when you dreamed, you dreamed of Mat, and all of his dreams became yours.

[littlefreya]

The Kitten & the Bear - Part 1

Intro: This story is a collab and was written by both @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ and I. It was born out of a fun role play we have going on. We ended up having so much a fun with this particular idea that we thought we should post it as a 3 part story and share it with the rest!

| Read Part 2  | Read Part 3 |

Summary: After a night of drinking in town get Walter’s bratty wife ends up with pure chaos and the overprotective grumpy husband is having none of her shenanigans. 

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC (first person pov) 

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Bratty behaviour, vandalism, dominant overprotectiveness, BDE, husband stalking his wife, sexual innuendo, dirty inappropriate talks, mentions of sex and oral, weed and alcohol usage. Sex in the next parts :D Walter is a Boomer. 

A/N: We didn’t beta it and did transform it from 2nd to 1st person POV, really hoping you guys will enjoy it as we did. Feel free to share your thoughts. 

Title: The Kitten & the Bear

Nothing chilled my heart more than waking up in an empty bed. Walter was already gone, leaving his side of the mattress cold and abandoned. A heavy sigh broke from my lips, I stroked the ghost of the kiss that still tingled on my cheek, knowing he planted it there before heading to work. 

Sadness seeped into my heart as I realised I won't see him today. Our work scheduled conflicted and I have scheduled a "date night" with my girls in the evening. Picking up my phone, I texted him a pouty emoji and then headed to get my day started.

Walter left me on read, which just fuelled the brat in me. When he called during his lunch break, he was taciturn as usual, and most of the call was about his disapproval of us girls going out without at least one male friend or a boyfriend to chaperone.

"Oh my god, Walter, this is not the 50s! Women can leave their house without a husband tagging along!" I grunted and berated him, "stop acting like someone is going to kidnap me!!! I'm an adult woman!" I snapped at him while sitting at the cafe. People sitting around stared quietly as I hung up the phone, and stormed out.

~~~

Walter looked at his mobile phone, shocked. He couldn't even remember the last time someone hung up on him, let along his wife.

"Fucking brat," he muttered as he pocketed it. 

After lunch, he went into the precinct. Since it was flu season and they were having a shortage of uniformed officers, he volunteered to patrol tonight. Assuming he might even be able to check up on me wherever I get to town. Just to keep me safe. That's right. Not from jealousy. Not because I'll be all dolled up and tipsy and every man in the vicinity will ogle me.

~~~

As the evening loomed, I was in dire need of letting loose. Walter had left me incredibly frustrated, acting like a police officer from hell rather than my husband. Going through my closet, I stumbled upon the most outrageous piece of wardrobe: a black strappy thing with corset details at the front. The same one I've worn for our first date which of course ended up with Walter and I dry humping like two horny teenagers at the back of his truck and him eating me out until I came all over his beard 4 times. 

I slapped a dark red lipstick and put on a pair of red "fuck me" pumps before leaving to meet the gals in a new night club that had just opened. I might or might not have a rolled-up joint in my purse.

~~~

Walter was sitting in a patrol vehicle on the opposite side of the street from the new fancy club with translucent walls. We were all sitting beside the window at a small table full of cocktail glasses, but the girls were gesturing toward the dance floor. Walter chose a dark spot on the street to park the car and was wearing a beanie. 

But he didn't need it. He knew I was oblivious to him and also to the men staring at me from 3 different tables. He ground his teeth frustrated when he first noticed that I was wearing that dress. His blood boiled as I was slowly sipping a cocktail with a sexy little pout around the long straw.

"Let's dance!!! I wanna dance!!!" I whined at my friend Keylah, grabbing her wrist and dragging her with me. My posture was slightly unstable after two cocktails and probably not enough food to pad my belly. She followed me to the dance floor while Stephanie remained in her seat, talking to some guy just for the sake of trolling. He'd been hitting on each one of us unsuccessfully. 

After an hour of dancing with Keylah, swaying my ass in ways that didn't leave any imagination to the men lurking, I remembered the little treat I had in my purse and decided we should take a small break to breathe some fresh air. 

I grabbed the girls, and we walked outside.

"Okay, don't you dare mention this to Walter," I warned them as I took the joint out from my purse.

"Daddy Magnum gonna punish you?" Steph teased while I lit the weed. 

"Oh, you have no idea, he gave me shit about seeing you tonight without a male chaperone, like this is Mad Man or something." 

"Woah! Walter is a boomer!!!" Keylah teased, and we all laughed hysterically. 

~~~

Unbeknownst to me, Walter was watching us dance from his patrol car, getting more and more frustrated by the hour. He observed as I gathered both girls and came out on the street, walking a couple of meters away from the entrance. A frown fell on his face as he saw me taking a lighter out from my purse.

"She doesn't even smoke, what the hell?" he fumed. 

His eyes widened when he saw the telltale shape of a joint between my fingers. His mouth was agape as I lit it up and started smoking and passing it around. "What the fuck? Where did she get that?" he muttered incredulously.

'It's fucking illegal in Minnesota, what the fuck? A cop's wife at that!' He thought, rage simmering in his gut.  

The police radio suddenly began buzzing, the sergeant calling on the line. 

"Hey Marshall, Toby came in for the night shift after all. Do you want him to keep you company?" 

'And see Walter's wife going to town on a spliff? No fucking way.' 

"No, Sarge, thanks. It's uh... calm tonight." He frowned from afar. "Nothing but law-abiding citizens," he replied, hoping his sarcasm didn't go through while he was watching the wife of a respected detective drunk and smoking weed in the great outdoors.

"All right" the sarge concluded and cut the line, and Walter put back the radio.

‘Un-fucking-believable.'

~~~

The girls and I fell into a fit of wild giggles, thoroughly buzzed and high at the same time. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I didn't even bother fixing it as the combination of drugs and alcohol made me frivolous and careless. 

"Is Walter such a nerd in bed too? Is he one of those guys who won't even make a sound because they are ashamed of it?" Stephanie asked to which I immediately snorted.

"Walter fucks like a beast from hell," I answered and put off the remains of the joint against the heel of my shoe. 

"I had to go to the gyno at least four times in the past because he was too violent, and trust me, the noise he makes, luckily no one called the police yet…" 

"Jennifer, your husband is the police!" Keylah answered, and we burst into another fit of giggles which then gradually died down. 

The same man who bugged us from before followed us outside, giving us some stares and making a suckling voice with his lips. I snorted at him and told him to fuck off before putting my arms around my girls. 

"This place sucks, let's go grab something to eat from the store, if Walter sees me like this I will NEVER hear the end of it".

~~~

Walter was watching us walk away, still furious about my illicit behaviour. He promised himself that he'd have a serious conversation with me about this tomorrow. He gave us two blocks of a head start and then ignited the engine of the car and made a U-turn, slowly he rolled towards the store and saw us enter. He made another U-turn in front of the store to park across the street. He just hoped that we'll buy some nachos and a coke and then call it a night, and call a cab to go home.

~~~

It was close to 1am. We barged into the store, marching through as if we owned the place. Keylah stopped by the condoms section and threw a bottle of lube in my direction. "Here you go, Jennifer, you gonna need it".

I laughed and threw it back at her, grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of water. 

"Better fuck his brains before he starts asking where you've been tonight," Stephanie added. 

"Can you girls please behave?" The clerk-lady requested politely, giving us a prudent look. I rolled my eyes at her and then stopped short as I saw a large stuffed grizzly bear that reminded me of Walter. I grabbed it and hugged it tightly just as I got the sudden urge to misbehave.

"Girls…" I whispered, making them come closer, "bet you a 20 I can sneak this out without paying!"

~~~

Walter's shoulders slumped, and he let out an irritated groan when he saw one of the girls throwing things inside the store. Though, he sighed in relief when I paused this stupid game, and a small smile tugged the edge of his mouth when I hugged a huge stuffed bear that reached down to my thighs and was high above the top of my head as I squeezed it to my torso. 

The way I looked at the bear reminded him of the loving looks I always gave him. But a sense of foreboding assaulted him as we started whispering and pointed at the door.

~~~

"Okay, okay… shush!" I whispered way too obvious and held the stuffed animal behind my back.

"Hey Keylah, can you pay for my chips?" I asked and backed away toward the door, nearly stumbling on my heels and holding the laughter in my gut. 

Noticing my attempt, the old woman cleared her throat, giving me a glare, "You are going to have to pay for that or I will call the police…"

"Her husb…"

"Shut up, Stephanie!" Keylah shouted and threw a bottle of lube in her direction, accidently hitting my shoulder, which made me drop the bear on the floor. 

"Key, you fucking bitch!!!" I answered and picked up the bottle, throwing it back at her. 

"Hey stop that!!!!" The clerk demanded and walked back behind the counter, picking up her phone. 

We ignored her, laughing like schoolgirls and throwing the bottle back and forth between us. Boxes of tampons and condoms fell to the floor as we moved through the hygiene section shouting playfully. 

As Keylah threw the bottle at me for the 12th time, I lifted it and threw it so hard it hit the window and broke it, causing the store's alarm to go off immediately.

"Oh… fu……..ck" I uttered.

~~~

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," Walter panicked as he saw us vandalising the store. He was immediately ready to jump out of the car, but then it would be obvious he'd been keeping an eye on me. He had to wait for the call. 

He wasn't even hoping that the clerk would not involve the police in the matter. She has to. ‘Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.’ 

When he saw the lady picking up the phone, he buried his face in his palms and rubbed it tiredly.

"Stupid, fucking bitches" he sighed, not believing his wife being so reckless. 

He picked up the buzzing radio and said, "Marshall. I'm here. On it." 

Without delay, he took the beanie off and got out of the car with his badge and gun ready.

~~~

Fingers dug into my hair, I stared wide-eyed at the broken window, immediately regretting all my decisions in the last couple of hours. 

'Walter was going to fucking kill me'. 

"I am soooooooo……." I began to say, turning to the clerk slowly while Keylah and Steph held their hands over their mouths. "So sorry." I stretched out while the alarm continued ringing in my ears. 

Then just like out of a nightmare, stepping through shards of broken glass with his big black boots, I saw Walter walking in, his brows knit together, his badge and his gun held out but kept low. He was enormous and menacing, yet the sight of him comforted me.

"Oh thank god, it's you!" I call out relieved.

~~~

The glass cracked beneath his steps as he walked in. He looked around and checked the store for cameras. 'Fuck, there were CCTVs'. 

He hoped to snatch me away and take care of the situation without involving... well himself but now that there was evidence it wasn't possible anymore. I was looking at him like a frightened little girl, but he couldn't help me, and frankly, he didn't feel like it either.

He looked at the clerk, showed her his badge and said in a neutral tone "MPD. What seems to be the problem?" 

~~~

My breath hitched at his "cop voice" and the way he asked the clerk. 

Stepping back and standing in the middle of the group, the three of us gaped at him with utter dumbfoundedness. Both my heart and gut dropped to the messy floor out of fear, and the way he carried himself, looking so menacing and authoritative made my panties drenched with arousal. 

"Officer, thank god you arrived! These three tried to steal a stuffed animal and started wreaking havoc in the store, throwing stuff around like children and speaking offensively!" The old woman explained and stood in the middle of the mess, looking helpless. 

My eyes rounded with false innocence, and I nibbled my bottom lip, giving Walter a vulnerable look. 

Walter was patiently listening to the clerk. Not a muscle flinched on his face as if he'd known everything. He took his notebook and a report form out and took care of the paperwork. 

The old lady eyed the three of us nervously while Walter was scribbling, and she hesitantly asked, "I'm sorry, Officer, but shouldn't you handcuff them? They might run."

Walter's curly head lifted, and he flashed the lady a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry, ma'am. They won't run."

"Is he serious?" Steph whispered, and I elbowed her, giving Walter a rather pissed off smile as he pretended not to know us at all and treated me like any other criminal.

Was it that just for show? Probably. We were going to have a serious talk about boundaries once we'd get home.

Walter finished writing his report and made the lady sign it before turning to look at the three of us, clenching his jaw. 

After a long, stern silence, I finally spoke, "Can I still get the teddy bear?"

Walter's nostrils flared as he dug into his pocket, pulled out a 20-dollar bill, slammed it on the counter and said to the clerk "For the bear."

At first, the lady was dumbfounded, then she blurted out outraged "Why are you buying a gift for a criminal?"

Walter didn't even spare her a look. He picked up the bear and looked at me with unflinching, stern eyes that made all three of us take a step backwards.

"Because she's my fucking wife."

The tone of his voice made the three of us startle, and I released a small gasp, seeing the look on his face. Walter made a gesture with his hand singling us to walk out of the store in order, and we did as he commanded. At the same time, my eyes gave him a mischievous smirk, mistaking this behaviour for a show.

Walter left the store last and immediately commanded, "To the car".

When we got there on the opposite side of the street, he opened the car and shoved the teddy bear on the passenger seat, then turned back, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked at all three of us. 

"Here's how it's gonna happen. We go in the precinct, fill out the forms, you stay the night, and most likely will be charged with a misdemeanour. Although the weed might be more problematic." He glared at me pointedly. 

The girls and I collectively gasped. 

"Now get in the back seat, all of you."

With shuddering legs, Keylah and Steph obediently entered the patrol car. I stared at Walter as he stood there towering over me, his massive arms crossed around his broad chest.

Still intoxicated, I looked at him with disbelief, realising two things: he arrived at the scene in less than two minutes after the lady called the police, which is impossible. And two, he couldn't possibly know I had weed on me unless… 

"Were you stalking me?!" I called out, ignoring the police officer and speaking to my husband. My hands went to my hips, my face sulking. 

"Oh my god, Walter! You were! Weren't you?" I frowned and shook my head, grunting with disgust.

"You are in no position to reproach me for anything right now", Walter said, seemingly calm. "But if you wanna know, I was patrolling in the neighbourhood and decided to check up on you. I saw the way you were shaking your ass for strangers" he spat, but he let his eyes roam the tight dress, and the way he subtly licked his lips made me sure he remembered exactly which dress it was.

"Do as you're fucking told and get in the car or you're gonna find yourself in even bigger trouble." 

"Oh my god, Walter!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled at him and stepped back, throwing my hands in the air furiously.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!!! MY OWN HUSBAND STALKING ME?! What's next Walter? You gonna put an ankle bracelet thingy on me, so I don't get to leave the house without your fucking permission?!"

I got so angry, my hands pushed at his chest, to which he didn't even budge, and only his jaw tightened.

"I am NOT getting into that car, and you are going to let Keylah and Steph go before you are going to be in trouble!"

Keylah and Steph were both watching with utter fascination as they saw the growing tension in Walter's posture.

Once Keylah and Steph were inside the car, they felt like the immediate danger was over. Their drunkenness and high made them reckless again and they started cheering me in the verbal fight with my husband.

Walter was on the verge of bursting, it was evident from his face. He took a menacing step towards me and despite my anger, a pang of arousal shot in my core.

"Get. in the. fucking. car" he growled in a barely audible voice. He gave me one last chance to voluntarily obey him.

I moved closer toward him, my head tilting up to meet his menacing gaze, my breasts ghostly brushing against his hard torso.

"I am not going anywhere with you," I answered unflinchingly. "Keep this attitude up, and the whole town will get to enjoy me swaying this ass long before you do." I teasingly slapped my own ass and then smirked arrogantly as I heard the girls cheering at the backseat

"That's it."

Quick as lightning, Walter's hands uncrossed and shot out. He grabbed my arms, turned me around with dizzying speed and slammed my torso down on the hood of the police car.

"Jennifer Marshall, you are under arrest for destruction of property, public intoxication and obstruction of a law enforcement officer."

I gasped incredulously as I felt the metal handcuffs closing on my wrists while Walter was performing his duty automatically and methodically. I'd never seen him make an arrest, let alone manhandle me like this.

With my cheek pressed against the cold metal, I could see both Keylah and Steph gape at us, eyes and mouth wide with daze. 

Still intoxicated, I hissed as a shiver of fear and sexual arousal shot through my spine, creeping all the way down to my throbbing core. 

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I cried out in protest. "I am your wife!"

My attempt to stand up brought my ass to collide with his crotch, where I felt the unmistakable throb of his blood circulating down to his groin. 

"Are you also getting the feeling that they're gonna fuck?" Steph whispered to Keylah, loud enough for us to hear.

"Shush!" she answered and stared, licking her lips. 

"Let me go, you fucking pig!" I screamed and squirmed on the hood helplessly. 

"Anything you say will be held against you in the court of law" Walter continued in his deep cop voice as if I hadn't even spoken.

"Say his dick, girl!" Keylah shouted, and Steph wooed, but they quickly shut up and resorted to concealed giggling as Walter shot angry eyes at them. He stepped closer to secure his hold on the handcuffs, and I felt the warm coarse material of his jeans at the back of my thighs.

"If you don't want to add resisting arrest and possession of narcotics to your offences, shut the fuck up and stop squirming."

"Fuck” I hissed, which didn't go unnoticed by Walter. My ass naturally shifted against his hardening bulge, and I moaned gently, not loud enough for the girls to hear but definitely heard by Walter, who had his hand around my cuffed wrists.

"You're enjoying this, big guy?" I spit out sardonically, "controlling your wife like you always want to, hmm?"

With the alcohol flushing through my veins, mingled with the sheer exhilaration of anger, I became more daring than ever.

"I think you are just scared because we both know you are never going to tame me."

[boldlyanxious]

Pitch Woo

1. old-fashioned To court or seek the affection of someone through romantic gestures or overtures.

Jasonette July prompt 4: game on

Enemies to lovers if you squint

This was supposed to be a throw away prompt that I put no effort into but somehow I ended up putting a lot of energy into it. Please love it

Legal age drinking and questionable song choice

Jasonette July

My masterlist

"Okay and thank you for coming to our Karaoke face off. I'm DJ Carapace and I'll be running the show tonight."

He paused while the crowd cheered.

"For those who haven't been here before, long time patron Marinette has recently been butting heads with Jason who recently returned after a long absence."

Boos came from one section. He didn't recognize them as associated with either of the performers.

"None of that now. Here tonight we love all of our friends the same. The competition tonight is all about the performance. Also giving a performance is Dick back behind the bar. Show him some love and show him the money. Or your money maker. Shake your ass for him. He doesn't discriminate; he loves all asses."

Cheers went up as Dick did a few bottle tossing tricks before Carapace could continue on to explain the rules of the competition. Jason and Marinette start off with a duet chosen by Carapace. He mentioned that they would be singing multiple songs, some that they prepared for and others that would be a surprise before that started. At the end of the singing the voting would be opened up for everyone to choose the winner.

"Starting off with a little magic both singers will show us a Whole New World," Carapace said as he started the music.

"Are you ready for this, Princess? You aren't allowed to magically fall in love with me."

"That should be easy enough. I control all the magic here."

"Do you trust me?"

"Not at all, Street Rat." Marinette said into the mic before he started singing.

She would never admit to anyone how much she loved his voice. It was rich and smooth and he seemed to feel the music as he sang. She put everything she had into her part. This was one of the first songs she learned to sing in English so it was very nostalgic. They both had the same idea when the joined section came up. They turned to face each other and kept eye contact through the last note.

"Well they may be competing but they sound great together too. Next up Marinette chose the song Perfect."

It felt good to start off with a song she knew. Most of them tonight would be a surprise so it was good to start where she was confident. This song worked particularly well because it started soft and then got bolder as it went on. The words were very helpful too. Jason must feel the same way about singing his choice of It's My Life because he was nailing it. The crowd was cheering and Carapace played a Jagged song to give them a break and encourage people to get drinks.

"Alright, bringing us right back into the show Jason and Marinette are going to wow us with the song Senorita."

Both of them were sent shots and drinks during the break. Mostly Marinette wanted water but as the crowd ramped up she and Jason took a shot together for luck. Then Marinette saw the list of songs they were doing and drained her drink quickly. She needed the courage if they were going to put on a show. Putting on the best show is how she would get votes.

Jason didn't feel like he could keep up with her. Her song choices were stellar. He had always loved her range. He had wandered away to take a couple shots to loosen him up. Still when they met back at the stage they took one together before they looked at their set list. He felt a bit better watching her drain her drink after she saw the set list. Maybe it wouldn't be as easy for her as he thought. He allowed the energy of the crowd to flow into him. He could do this. As he watched her start the song, he suddenly remembered how he had actually been interested in Marinette when they first met, but she had gotten very frustrated over something to do with the song choice or order. He couldn’t remember now. It was the first in a long list of times they had butted heads here.

He moved to the beat of the song and started singing. He kept his voice low and sultry and his attention focused on his partner for the evening. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened but the room and the crowd disappeared. It was just him and her looking at each other and singing. She shimmied around to the song and he reached out for her hand, spinning her until she was against him. He leaned over her shoulder and sang the ooh- la-la-la into her mic. He could feel her tense and suck in a breath before she sang her next section. He swayed her back and for and then spun her around. She did her oohs and then he dipped her down and then back up at the last notes of the song.

She was happy that it was his turn next, singing Fields of Gold. She had to catch her breath. She needed to convince herself that it was from the singing and dancing and not from being so close to him. She sipped on her drink and sat on the provided stool as he moved between singing for the audience and serenading her. As the song was at the final repeating line he pulled her back up and sang directly to her. He bent low and kissed her hand as he passed her the mic.

Marinette started singing the song Only Exception and as she did she circled him before guiding him to the stool. His performance was stellar so she needed to start strong and continue through the whole song. As he had she made sure to sing to the audience and not just him. She wandered down from the stage and near the tables to get the most visibility during the instrumental interlude. She sang the part that picked up right to the crowd before turning to him and walking back to him with determination at the ending lines. At the final line she got very close to him to sing directly at him that she was “on her way to believing”

Next they were singing Landslide as a duet. Marinette loved this one. But it was slightly bitter for her. The first time she met Jason she had put the song in but the old DJ XY said he would save it for her for later in the evening. Jason had arrived after that and when her song came up it was him singing it instead of her. He had done really well but the DJ didn’t like to do repeats so she didn’t get her chance to sing. It hadn’t helped that he had come up and used a terrible line on her and laughed at her reaction.

Jason loved this song. He knew she did it really well too. He had heard her sing it once before. It worked great as a duet for them. They were both able to showcase the best of themselves. Carapace was right, they did sound good together. They took turns with the parts and joined in together at the chorus. They addressed the crowd for the beginning of it but part way through she walked slowly up to him as she was singing. He put his mic to the side and met her in the middle. Something about sharing the mic made it feel more intimate. They were no longer looking out. They were looking right at each other. Her eyes closed during one part and he didn’t seem to be able to stop himself from reaching up and touching her face. She looked up at him as they sang the last line together, drawing it out.

Carapace gave them another break and played a couple other songs before he would call them back up. Alya was ready with a couple waters and people were basically lined up to buy them drinks and shots. Alya told her she was recording the whole thing and would be posting it after, linking back to both of them so they would probably get a lot more traffic on their pages soon. The break went quickly but Marinette was ready to be done with it. The songs were a little more upbeat so it would feel like it was going faster even though it was more songs. She laughed when she saw the first song. She knew Alya picked that one because she had told her how much she liked it but was always too nervous to sing it.

Marinette took another shot while bantering with Jason to get the crowd invested again at the end of the break. She didn’t hold back. She stalked towards Jason channelling all her sexy energy as she started singing Do Not Disturb. She didn’t turn back to the crowd at all. She moved with the song and sang with everything she had and based on the look on his face, he was eating it up. She dared approach him and slid her hand up his chest before seizing his shirt and pulling him to his feet. He moved right along with her. That is what made him a great opponent. He didn’t want to trip her up and win by default. He wanted her at her best and she felt the same. An even playing field so they could get a good gauge of a winner.

Jason could feel her almost groan when she heard the opening of Give Me Everything start. He had played along with her song and she went all out. Now it was his turn. He was pretty tame. Just serenading her and moving to the beat. He could tell she was expecting more though, she moved easily with him when they got to the line “grab somebody sexy tell them hey”. She was ready for it and matched him move for move. He liked it better this way. They may be competing but he was having a blast. He had the sudden thought when he sang the last line "we might not get tomorrow". He put the microphone under her chin and used it to tilt her face up to his. She stared right up at him perfectly. The natural move would be to lean down and kiss her but he didn't think it would be right complete the move.

"Okay guys get ready to vote after this last number here. Their grand finale and then we can go back to your regularly scheduled karaoke until we announce a winner."

Marinette and Jason both took drinks and readied themselves to sing. Jason started out the song Shallow. He didn't bother with the audience. The song was designed as a romantic duet and he loved watching her eyes widen slightly as she looked up at him. He dropped his hand when he finished but during her verse she moved up to him and places her hands on his chest. At the end of that verse she patted his chest before turning to the crowd for the bridge. They came back together to sing the chorus. Without thinking, they moved closer at the end. They were right next to each other and sharing a mic again. He pulled her close to his as the song ended and the crowd cheered. He turned off the mic before asking his next question.

"Are we gonna make the ending a show stopper?"

"I'm already doing that. Try to keep up."

She smirked at him. He spun her around and dipped her low. His face was right in front of hers as he whispered. She could feel his breath by her chin.

"The audience would love a finale. If you think you can handle it."

"I can handle anything you can. Game on." She said.

He was pulling her back to her feet out of the dip. Their eyes never strayed from each other's. As her feet touched the floor, she grasped his collar. He met her halfway pulling her against him. Their lips met as the crowd cheered again. It was meant to be a momentary thing. For the audience. They had both done it for show. But the surge they felt as they kissed was not just because of the crowd. They pulled back but felt the loss even as they stood in each other's arms under the shining lights.

DJ Carapace was announcing how to complete the voting but Marinette couldn't hear anything over the heartbeat thumping in her ears. Maybe Jason felt the same because he guided her back behind the makeshift curtain of the stage. He planted his back against the wall and pulled her flush against him. She didn't expect to crash against him so suddenly but she used the momentum to pull herself to him and resume kissing.

They could find out who won later.

Tags

@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[bethansfandoms]

i keep seeing these and i just need more of it so Sirius is a youtuber au?

i literally read one of these the other day! how did you know?

sirius, or as he was known to the world,‘padfoot, was huge. he had a crazy amount of subscribers and his videos ranged from general chit chat to baking to gaming and, most famously, pranking fellow youtuber ‘prongs.’

people loved him. they loved his personality and his content and his appearance and his voice. everything. because he was so popular, sirius never could read every single comment, but he tried his best, and there was one that did catch his eye.

it was simply “day one of telling sirius that whoever edits his videos is awesome.” it had 50K likes.

part of the reason sirius’ posting schedule was so regular was because he didn’t edit his own stuff, he’d hired someoneto do it for him. his name was remus lupin, and this random commenter was correct, he was awesome.

the comments continued. sirius would look for it on every daily upload and there it was, always near the top. somebody commenting appreciation for sirius’ editor.

sirius and remus were friends. they weren’t super close, but they spent a lot of time together as sirius had an office for his ‘padfoot’ brand and he always filmed there, for privacy reasons more than anything. the computers in the office had all the equipment remus needed to edit and so they saw each other almost every day.

“have you seen this?” sirius asked casually, showing remus his phone. “day forty-two of telling sirius that who ever edits his videos is awesome.” 45K likes.

remus smiled, “ah, well, i do my best.”

“they’re right,” sirius responded, “i can’t really thank you enough for it. my videos would suck without you.”

remus rolled his eyes, “i am sure youtube’s heart-throb would do just fine in his own.”

sirius felt himself blush slightly. “yeah, well, glad the youtube comment section is appreciating what you’re doing as much as i am.”

it was next mentioned in a live stream. sirius read the comment and contemplated ignoring it but decided to read it out loud anyway. “sirius, expose your editing team.” he grinned. “not a team! just this one poor guy i’m afraid, i feel sorry for him.”

for some reason, it sent the comments off on a tangent. there were now numerous questions coming in and all of them about this editor. “can i get them on the live? ha, hold up.” remus was only in the room next door.

“remus!” he realised he’d just outed his name which the comments started freaking out about. “would you like to be on my live?”

remus walked away from his desk, laughing, and stayed just out of shot. “sorry, what?”

“the viewers want to meet my editor!”

remus sighed and awkwardly walked into frame. “how many people are watching?”

“only two million.”

“wish i’d known that or i probably wouldn’t have let two million people see me in this jumper my mum made me.”

sirius laughed, “it’s adorable.”

this is how a sub fandom was created. various twitter accounts dedicated to remus. people commenting on how cute he was or theorising the nature of sirius and remus’ relationship.

that embarrassed sirius slightly. he’d always had a mild crush on his editor and the fact that people were uploading the thirty seconds remus had ben on camera for and titling it “sirius having heart eyes for remus,” always made him slightly flustered.

remus’ appearing in sirius’ live shows started to become more frequent as people kept anting more remus content. this is how sirius came up with a new video idea. “Q and A with my editor.”

“i am just going to edit this and make sure nothing embarrassing i do is left in,” was the first thing remus said when he hit record.

“will you keep that in?” sirius asked, smiling.

“haven’t decided, depends how my hair looks.”

“it looks good.” that got edited out. “okay,” sirius said, “question one: what’s it like having to look at my face all day for a living.”

remus flushed. that got edited out. “it’s a weird way of describing my job, but i guess it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

sirius chuckled, “you flatter me.” sirius scrolled through his phone for more questions, “when will you start dating? let’s not include that one.”

remus scoffed, “when you ask me out i guess. yeah, that’s getting edited out.”

“christ, there’s a theme here,” sirius muttered, “remus are you single, remus rate sirius on appearance out of ten, remus would you rather kiss sirius or die.”

remus burst out laughing, “i’m starting to get a bit concerned about your viewers.”

“yeah, well, ever since my coming out video they’ve been desperate to know if i’m seeing anyone. there were all these proof videos about how me and james were dating before he married lily. oh here’s another one, remus what’s your sexuality?”

“bisexual,” he grinned, “should i leave that in or would that just drive people insane.”

“well, it depends. apparently there is already fanfiction about us.”

“how! i’ve been in like, four of your live shows.”

sirius shrugged, “people work fast.”

remus edited all of it out.

they spent hours laughing together on camera before finally wrapping the video up. it got 15 million views in a week.

“people like you, remus!”

“people just want somebody to ship you with.”

“no, for real, i keep seeing fan pages for you.”

remus laughed, “that’s insane! they know literally nothing about me.”

“they don’t have to. apparently being funny and good looking is enough for them to go on.” sirius regretted it almost instantly. luckily, remus didn’t seem to mind.

“you think i’m funny?”

sirius was so glad that he’d asked that instead of ‘you think i’m good looking’. “yeah, of course. i think you’re... yeah. we should hang out more. if you want of course.”

“ah, the amount of people on the who’d kill to hang out with the padfoot. yeah. that’d be nice. don’t tell the internet or they’ll think it’s a date.”

sirius shrugged, “is it?”

“oh, uh,” remus’ cheeks went bright pink. “i don’t know, is it?”

“if it doesn’t work, i still want to be friends. but we could always... try?”

a year later, sirius published his second most viewed video, after his coming out. it was titled “meet my boyfriend,” with the man in the thumbnail blurred out.

it was remus, of course. and the news actually broke twitter.

yo what the hell should i write an ao3 fic on this? i love this trope so much!!!