#<- ops tags speaking truth

[erenfox]

so true. idk why people absolutely love and kiss the feet of morally grey male characters but bash on female ones as if there's no tomorrow.

“We want more morally grey female characters” motherfucker you couldn’t even handle Teresa

[kingthunder]

lrt (i know this isn't twitter but bear with me) that man is a drama professor at community college whose students make a gc specifically to roast him behind his back

[mossy-rainfuck]

big fan of reading a smut scene so bafflingly written i feel genuinely shaken after. where am i. im scared

[yronnia]

The GOOD KNIFE

Why is it hard to find ONE

Cooking at a friend or relative’s house is very fun first you have to get out not that cabinet not that cabinet not that cabinet not that cabinet not that cabinet not that cabinet a bowl and second

[joyfulgalaxybird]

you know what will change me a person is to have my back cracked in a special kind way in the same area that been bugging me the moment I turned 20

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #6 444 205

Fish!

The fish like to have a little drink :) Sadly as they drink the water around them they also drink their own pee, and that is the curse that they will have to live with for the rest of their life

#fish #fishfact #fish facts #fishblr #biology #zoology

( 2 notes )

🪼 clovergonads follow

Tasseled wobbegong women >>>>>>>>>>>

🐸 i-eat-skin follow

bitch those are goosefish

( 27,196 notes )

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore follow

Say what you want about fishblr updates, but I think this format for reblubs is a wonderful improvement over the previous one. One of the only times staff did good.

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore

@featherstar53 If reblub chains got too long, new reblubs would start appearing as darker and darker until you couldnt see the text anymore. It mimicked how light disappears as you go deeper in the ocean but the sunken code this webbedsite runs on never set a cap for how dark it gets, so eventually you would have to copy ad paste the text on the reblubs onto somewhere to read them.

🐍 swamplamprey follow

It sounds fake but it's true! You can still find some older fishblr post screenshots with this effect:

This even went for full abyssal mode users! In their case, the text would slowly turn from white to dark blue, effectively making it impossible to read against the black background.

🦞 fastest-claw-in-the-west follow

I think it would be super funny if they brought this back but for individual posts. Like the reblubs stay the same colour but the posts themselves get gradually and gradually darker until you can't see them anymore lol. It would be disastrous but also funny and it might finally stop some of you frys from being so addicted to this webbedsite

#im all for a bit of chaos lol #treasure trove: talking tag

( 730 notes )

🌿 invertlike-behaviour follow

Okay for the record. My eyes are Red because I'm a COMMON ROACH! RUTILUS RUTILUS! It's not because I smoke seaweed!

🌿 invertlike-behaviour

Okay Yes I smoke seaweed all day. But the specific reason my eyes are red is Not That

( 104 notes )

🦈 spiritually-placoderm follow

🫧 surgeonsturgeon follow

OP you forgot brackish water and the option for inhabiting both

🦈 spiritually-placoderm

Shut your inferior ass mouth up

🫧 surgeonsturgeon

#(i couldnt find the actual gif i wanted to use but this weird tiger shark will have to do) #(not sure why his fins look like that)

( 1,020 notes )

☀️ slenderfish follow

"ocean sunfish have over 40 parasite species" factoid actualy just statistical error. average ocean sunfish is infected with only one or two parasites. Parasites Georg, the mola who suffers from every ailment known to fish and has over 1 000 000 000 parasite species infesting his flesh and organs, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

( 193,239 notes)

🪷 trout-about-you follow

Selfieeeee :3 (ignore the two sea lampreys attached to my flesh)

🪲 toebiter follow

how did you take the picture you aren't holding your phone

🪷 trout-about-you

The sea lamprey on the left took it for me

( 58 notes )

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

FISH USED TO MIGRATE THOUSANDS OF MILES TO BREED. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!!!!

IN MY DAY PUSSFISH LIKE THIS WOULD GET EATEN ALIVE BY REAL RIVER MONSTERS FOR BREAKFAST.

🐟 darting-action follow

these are Siamese fighting fish bruh.... They don't have migration as part of their life cycle lmao

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

OF COURSE THE YOUTH CAN'T PUNCTUATE THEIR SENTENCES PROPERLY. I SHOULDN'T EXPECT SO MUCH FROM THE SOFT FRY THEY ARE. ALWAYS GETTING RILED UP!

🔲 skip-hopper-deactivated

Ignore this guy, @darting-action. He's well known for saying offensive nonsense like this, I think he's bait and trying to get someone to bite.

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

YOU MUST BE ONE OF THOSE INBRED DOMESTIC SCUM OR HATCHED YESTERDAY SINCE YOU ENTIRELY LACK THICK SCALES. I SPEAK THE TRUTH AND ONLY THE TRUTH. IF YOU GET TRIGGERED THEN THAT'S NATURAL SELECTION, SON. YOU SHOULD FIGHT ME IN REAL LIFE.

🔲 walrus-tits-in-my-mouth-deactivated

You really dont know a thing about natural selection, do you? Bettas have flashy fins because they have to seem threatening to possible competitors. They don't migrate so they aren't built for that. They're built for living in ponds and marshes, low oxygen environments, and by cod, they are built for fighting territorial battles! You shouldn't underestimate a fish literally called fighting fish. They're very tough and hardy fish and can even send larger fish fleeing!

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

SIAMESE FLAILING PUSSFISH HAVE LADY FINS BECAUSE THEY'RE WEAK AND SOFT AND HAD HUMANS DECIDE WHO THEY BREED WITH FOR THEM. THEIR QUOTE UNQUOTE "FIGHTING PROWESS" SURE DIDN'T SAVE THEM FROM BEING PRISSY LITTLE PRINCESS FISHIES FOR LITTLE KIDS DID IT? THE INDUBIDABLE FACT IS THAT THEY'RE MUSKIE FOOD.

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

Wait a minute... I recongize that picture on the right! That's from @betta-than-this 's OnlyFins! How did you get that picutre hmmm? Salmonidae? How on Ocean did you gain access huh?

🐠 betta-than-this follow

"Indubidable" is a pretty specific word to use. This you @salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated?

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

LMAOOOOOO GOTTEMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

🔲 aquarium-life-deactivated

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

🐟 darting-action

woag i never saw this entire chain before until it hit me on my dashboard. Why does this have so many notes

Thanks fishblr user walrus tits in my mouth for biology info i didn't know

🫖 burgle-the-turts follow

Woah woah woah we're just gonna ignore this guy using p*ssfish as an insult!!???? THE CATFISH SLUR????????? No one is going to bring this up!!!!!???????

🔲 tilapia11128-deactivated

does anyone in this thread smoke seaweed

🌊 herringageposts follow

date of origin: 28th of august, 2017

( 392,229 notes )

🟧 sponsored

Suffering all alone, handsome?

No need to anymore.

👄 pollywannacracker follow

Reblub with your favorite snack in the tags! I’ll go first: coral polyps! :}

🚬 shark-noir follow

@ninjalantern-999

#as for me #my fave is definitely my lower set of teeth when they shed #crumchy :D

( 295 notes )

🩸 must-lunge follow

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STUPID HUMAN DROPPED ITS ELECTRONIC CAMERA IN THE LAKE!!!!!!!! NEVER GETTING THAT BACK BUB!!!!!! I'M TELLING ALL MY ISOPOD AND MUSSEL FRIENDS AND THEY'RE GONNA LIVE INSIDE IT!!!!!

🧑 official-human-posts follow

ofishal human post

#ofishal human post #this post contains humans

( 891 notes )

🦦 hellofromtheotterslide follow

Wait, how come this site is called fishblr and not something like oceanblr or aquablr? Wouldn't that be more inclusive?

👑 goldielocks follow

I believe the name "fishblr" pays homage to the meaning of the word where just about everything in the water was considered a fish. It's why we have words like "shellfish", "whalefish", "jellyfish", "starfish".

Personally aquablr would work really well, too. There's a sizeable amphibious userbase on here.

🦐 worldwideshrimp follow

You forgot whale shark! Those arent fish either but are called fish

👑 goldielocks

....Whale sharks are fish. They are sharks. It's in the name.

🦎 eye-of-newt follow

But I thought it was a whale named after sharks? WHALE shark! Why else would they put whale up first?

👑 goldielocks

A whale named after a shark would be called a shark whale. You can take one look at a whale shark and see that, with its gills and fish tail, it is a shark.

⚪️ number1-seacucumber-ass-enjoyer-77 follow

Wait, then what about baby whales? Are those whales named after babies?

👑 goldielocks

If you're talking about the actual whale babies, then yeah. If you mean the mormyrids, small aquatic animals that can sense electricity, then no, those are fish. Sometimes names are inaccurate to what the animal really is.

🌌 themanta1234 follow

If you think about it, fishblr is also inclusive to aquatic tetrapods since they are lobe-fins, and therefore fish :D It's a term that can include everyone on here, the perfect catchall!

��� abyssal-gigantism follow

Ewwww fuck that definition. If mammals hear about them being fish on some sort of """"technicality"""" then this webbedsite is gonna get flooded with those self-important idiots! "OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOO LoOk At MeEeEeEeEEE i'M a MaMmAL!!11!!! I TAKE CARE of mah BAAABIEEEES!1111 I'm SUCH a good MAMAAA!!! All those OTHER STUPID HEARTLESS ANIMALS could NEVER do as I DO!!! I LOVE sweating into my BAABIEEEES' MOUTH1!1!1!111!!! I'm FLUFFY and AWSUM and ERRYBODDY LUUUVSSSSS MEE!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!! You should all LUV me TOO!!!!"

Is THAT how you want every fishblr post to look!!!!??????

🦛 drippohippo follow

😨

🪄 magicmanatee45 follow

DD:

🎼 humpbacked-musician-offishal follow

:'''((((

🐋 blainvilles-bitch follow

🕶️ egg-laying-mammal-of-action follow

:///////////

🐢 greenXD follow

i think jellyfish shouldn't be classified as fish because they're clearly living spaghetti

🌜 foolish-idol follow

Great fucking post everyone. Hit the air bubblers

( 60,376 notes )

🟩 ultrahyva-heihoi follow

Guys what the fuck kind of sponsors does fishblr have I just saw an ad for having parasites housed in me who are they advertising to 😭💀💀

#i swear the quality of this site keeps going down and down #if you see ads for parasites then report the shit out of em #fuck em my friend got early onset cataracts due to parasites

( 4 notes )

😃 doweopenandcloseourmouthtoday follow

Yes! :) :O :) :O :) :O :) :O

[raeinyourdreams]

'call it what you want.' | l.h x reader

pairings: logan howlett x sway!reader

tags: fluff, no established relationship but.. there's something there, mutant!reader (they call her sway due to her mutation.. i love her i wanna talk ab her someone PLEASE ASK AB HER), AFAB reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, no specific petnames for reader (just bub and her hero name.. gets called kid like twice), no use of y/n, written with x1/x2 logan in mind... sigh... save me x2 logan.. anyway, he gives reader his dog tags before a mission in case he.. you know.. so maybe angst? but only til the very end.

wc: 2k!!

a/n: OKAY SO BOOM! this is my first actual work that's not a drabble and i'm so anxious to post AAHHH, i got the inspo from a post i saw a while ago while fried as fuck from someone requesting a fic ab logan giving reader his dog tags, pref fluffy and angsty so i hope i did ur vision justice OP!! tysm for inspo, my reqs are always open 🫶🏻 also i know this is a very burnt card but if something in the wording is off lmk PLEASEE english isn't my first language 😭 anyway enough yapping plz enjoy!! any type of interaction is appreciated

'just know these are yours now.'

you've never seen him without his dog tags, he never took them off, not ever since the first time he came into the mansion. you'd been there the first time, you were a teacher in the school, and you'd seen him occasionally roam the halls and stay by the door, listening in on your class, quietly. but very rarely interacted otherwise, just a simple nod or a 'good morning' that he'd return out of good manners, but he'd mostly keep to himself.

you're a teacher. you're the fun teacher. at least that's what your coworkers seemed to agree upon, seeing how your students appeared to leave your classroom more cheerful than they entered. you'd be lying if you said you didn't use your mutation as an advantage in this situation, being able to read your students' moods every day, how they were feeling and why came insanely handy, especially when it came to giving each student the type of care they needed. which is why you were also a student counselor.

on the days you didn't teach, you'd put that psych degree to work and counsel. in your classroom filled with drawings and fairy lights and stained glass that looked straight from a fairytale, and a door you'd lock for privacy as a student came to confide in you.

obviously despite your title, it wasn't only students who'd come to your office to let a feeling go, teachers too, needed a space to blow off some steam, cry a little sometimes, because they knew you'd soothe them in the end, touch your hand feel the pain dissipate, make it seem as if they'd never felt that way.

up until now, only teachers and students seemed to come to you for help. teachers. and students.

so it did surprise you when the wolverine started showing up in your office after coming back.

"must be tiring. to handle others' emotions like your own all day." he'd say, sitting down on a chair, to which you'd playfully roll your eyes and shake your head. "i don't treat them as my own, i just do what i have to do so they feel better." you'd reply, walking towards the door to lock it out of policy. figured that he was here for counseling as well.

"you treat everyone with so much care it seems like it." he said, which made you stop in your tracks, turning heel to face him, your hair cascading on your shoulders and moving ever so softly as you spun. before you could speak, stunned, he asked again.

"don't you get tired? i mean mentally. it must take a toll on you to be around so many emotions all the time." the way he seemed to read you stunned you, he seemed like a very gruff, cold person from the brief interactions you'd had with him before. truth be told, this was the closest you'd been to logan since he came back to the mansion. it's what other people thought of him, anyway.

but you weren't other people, you were different.

the feeling in your body when you perceive others emotions is strange. you could never put it into words. your mutation was mostly contact based, a small brush of the hand was enough to let you know that person's feelings, the reason behind them, what they needed to feel better and it made it easier to help everyone. you could, however, see and feel the emotions, sometimes even smell them if they were too strong, no need for contact necessary.

with logan, you almost didn't need to be in the same room as him to feel the amount of physical, mental, emotional strain he was constantly under, his superhuman body subconsciously tuning it out, making him oblivious to it. once, after a very dangerous mission, he isolated himself in his room for days, his expression cold and unfazed, but every time you'd walk past an area he was in, the emotions hit you like a truck. so strong you even cried over pain that wasn't yours, a life you hadn't lived.

you looked at him sympathetically, taking a deep breath to concentrate less on the seemingly invisible fog around you two as you sat on the chair, your expression calm and collected. "i'm okay, i promise. thank you, logan."

"like hell you are." "neither are you."

he stays quiet at your retaliation, a weak smile forming on his lips, letting you understand that you were right, not that you needed confirmation.

sometimes, when emotions overpower you, you feel compelled to speak, give words of reassurance, even if you didn't quite know if they'd help or not. "logan, you should let people into your heart, stop living in fear.." you blurted out, unsure of why you were telling him this, but you'd learned to not question it and just speak, because it helped to just hear the words sometimes. it certainly did get you a reaction from logan, as the overbearing feelings you were perceiving faded.. briefly, before they slowly crept back into vision.

it was the faintest of reactions, but a reaction at least.

he nodded, taking in the words silently, as if he were contemplating. you remained stoic, analyzing his demeanor out of pure habit. "did.. you come here for counseling?" you asked, suddenly aware that you were still working, and you weren't even sure if he was here for another reason, or if he did need your help. instead, he shook his head, looking at you as if he were conducting an analysis of his own.

"nah, just came to see you.. sway."

a knock on the door interrupted the brewing tension, a gloomy, childlike presence behind the door, to which you looked at logan apologetically. "i'm sorry logan, i have a student to attend.. but think about what i said." you spoke softly, your warm voice reverberating in his ears like a hug.. something he longed for but couldn't bring himself to ask.

you started seeing him around the classroom more, or rather, he started seeking you out more. in between breaks, before his training, during counseling. it got to a point where your children started greeting him hello and goodbye if he was in the classroom, interacting with him, playing with his hair, always styled like kitty ears. the way he just smiled and let them made something in you bloom, a feeling you couldn't recognize in yourself, but it was pink and warm and fuzzy all over. you couldn't help but wonder if he felt about you this way, too.

slowly, you noticed how, little by little, the gloomy cloud surrounding him would go away when he entered the classroom, how it would be replaced with a pink haze when he looked into your eyes, or made you laugh.. it would quickly fade away, but you'd notice, and noticed how much it resembled that feeling inside you: pink and warm and fuzzy all over.

as time went by, you got used to seeing him around, swinging by your classroom as if it was his haven, a small break from the world he knew, because you were in it. you'd be lying if you said he didn't make you day too, the gloomy atmosphere that once came along with him every time he entered your classroom slowly changing into a lilac haze.

one day, he showed up as the kids were leaving for the day, no colored cloud, but something seemed off. you invited him to sit down as he locked the door after getting in, his expression serene. before you could even speak his hands were on you, pulling you close to him in a hug, and you swore you could feel him shaking slightly. the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water and you just hold him tighter to you, since it feels like the only correct thing to do.

"you're scared."

"no one gets to see me like this, so feel special." said he, almost as if he was confiding a secret in you, which he was.

"oh, trust me, i feel quite special." you replied jokingly, which caused him to let out a chuckle, though it was dull and almost no feeling was tied to it.

you two let go and you asked him what was wrong, and he opened up like it was routine.

"i leave tomorrow. there's a mission out of state and they're asking me to go.. might be off the grid after that for a while." he explained, his voice remained calm but his eyes seemed to reveal to you more of how he was actually feeling.

"i dunno.. thought someone should've known in case.. things go south." your expression changed at that, and logan noticed. "ah, c'mon bub, change that frown, it's just reality. sure, i might be a piece of work to kill but it doesn't mean i can't die."

the silence that fell upon the classroom as you two finished speaking made the words fall with more weight into your heart, it did little to nothing to comfort you as you came to terms with what he said. it shouldn't have been hard - he was just stating a fact -, but it didn't mean that it didn't cut deep for you. you opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what you were even going to say, but he quickly cut you off.

"logan-" "listen, bub, you told me to start letting people into my heart.. i'm letting you in."

slowly, his hands went to unclasp the chain that always dangled on his neck, dog tags adorning his neck with his names, his identities. you looked in awe as he held them out to you. "gimme your hand, kid." and surprisingly, you did as you were told, holding your hand out as he placed the piece on your hand, feeling the cold metal clink softly as it fell and heat up under the temperature of your palm. you looked up at him, unsure of what it meant, of what this changed between you two, but it felt undeniable, even if unspoken.

“now, these.. they’re very special, bub. a reminder of everything that happened that led to here.. and it’s leading me to you right now.” he explained. “feels right for you to have them, i guess.. keep them safe, kid.”

the silence that fell between you two again was more comfortable, filled with a newfound tension that left much to question, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt with all that noise yet. the only sound filling the room was the breathing and a faint humming of the white noise machine you kept in your room, next by the door. you opened up your mouth again, your mind utterly blank and filled with thoughts and questions at the same time, unsure of which one was going to breach through your mind to materialize out in the cold, tense air.

“.. why me? trust me, i’m flattered, but i’m no one special, logan..” you questioned, and it made him frown.

“you are special. you're special to me.” your eyes widened at the confession and you watched as a soft smile settled on his face, one that made your heart flutter with the sheer tenderness he held in his gaze. “call it what you want.. just know these are yours now.” he said it so calmly, you wouldn't have tought he was handing you his heart, placing it in soft, tender hands and pleading you to not break it, not change it, and instead embrace it and accept it as it came, rough around the edges.

with that, he stood up from the chair, took your hand to squeeze it briefly, and walked out of the room, not before looking back at you one last time, the heaviness that he carried as he entered the room seemingly gone, all that you could perceive was a haze, all too familiar, one that left as quick as it came as his eyes met yours.

pink, warm, and fuzzy all over.

additional author's note: BOOM SHAKALAKA I POSTED FINALLY!! i think it's a little rushed BUT!! it's cause i have a (smutty) part 2 planned for this HEHEJEHE i don't like writing (or reading) series bcs i get sad when they end but i just might.... hehehe... anyway pls lmk what u think!! or i kill off logan 🥰🥰 your choice 🥰🥰

taglist: @allen-444

[inhayara]

This dramatic proclamation is actually very accurate. I’ve tried about a million different strategies to get stuff done, all with a (un)healthy dose of self hatred, and it’s always produced mixed to poor results. But actually taking a moment, buying myself a muffin, and being kind to myself when opening the laptop to venture forward into doom and deadlines has actually helped me far more than I ever could have expected.

Think of kindness to yourself as the umbrella you take when there’s a thunderstorm outside, or a scone you grab when you’re running late and don’t have time to sit for breakfast. Not taking the umbrella or scone and instead berating yourself while dealing with weather and hunger isn’t going to make you less hungry or wet. So take the umbrella and scone. And don’t listen to anyone who tries to tell you to “tough it out” and become hungry and drenched.

YOU CANNOT SELF-FLAGELLATE YOUR WAY INTO EXCELLENCE

[niallerspayno]

Bordersz

Masterlist

A round of Never Have I Ever turns revealing when you admit you’ve never had sex—and suddenly, Zayn Malik is looking at you like he’s found something he didn’t know he was missing. One slow, heated night later, it’s clear this isn’t just casual anymore.

Tags: Zayn x reader, smut (virgin reader, fem receiving oral, protected p in v)

...

It’s loud, but not overwhelming—the kind of bar that smells like lime and beer, where the lights are low enough to feel cozy, and the music hums just below the chatter. You’re tucked into a booth that barely fits six, pressed between Zayn and Liam, a mostly-melted mojito in your hand.

You’re not really sure how this happened. One minute you were doing final touch-ups backstage, brushing powder over Harry’s nose while Louis heckled from the couch, and the next you were being dragged along to their night out. No time to change, no time to overthink it.

Zayn had just said, “She’s coming,” like it was obvious. Like no one needed to ask you.

So now here you are, squeezed between two popstars in a booth sticky with spilled rum and laughter, trying to pretend this is normal.

You’re their junior stylist—junior being the keyword. Lou brought you on a few months ago, and you’re still learning the rhythm of tour life. You handle the minor jobs—foundation touch-ups, hair gel emergencies, panic-bought concealer when someone’s breakout threatens a photo op. Most days you feel invisible, floating around the boys while they joke and banter like brothers.

But tonight, they’ve pulled you in. Not just physically—though Zayn’s thigh is warm against yours, and Liam keeps refilling your drink without asking—but socially. Properly.

“We’re playing something,” Louis announces, tossing a coaster at Niall. “Before I get too drunk to speak words.”

Niall catches it with one hand, somehow already flushed. “Truth or dare?”

Harry shakes his head. “Too chaotic.”

“Spin the bottle?” Liam teases, raising a brow.

“Oh, please,” you mutter, “You’d all die before kissing each other.”

“I wouldn’t,” Zayn says casually beside you, and you nearly choke on your drink.

Louis grins like he’s just won something. “Never Have I Ever, then?”

A chorus of nods follows. Glasses clink. A fresh round is ordered.

“You ever played before?” Liam asks, leaning in just enough that you can hear him over the music.

You nod. “Once. Uni party. Someone puked on a bean bag halfway through.”

“Charming,” Zayn murmurs near your ear. You swear you feel the ghost of a smile on your neck.

Louis slams his hand down. “Right. I’ll start. Never have I ever… worn eyeliner.”

Everyone groans and drinks.

Even Liam.

You laugh into your straw, relaxing a little as the game rolls on. The questions start off easy—silly tour stuff, harmless confessions. Harry admits to stealing conditioner from hotels. Niall cops to crying during The Lion King. Zayn hasn’t said much, but you catch him watching you out of the corner of your eye more than once.

And then Louis leans forward, smirking like he’s about to drop a bomb.

“Never have I ever… had sex in a tour bus bathroom.”

Groans. Laughter. Drinks raised.

And just like that, the game shifts.

You feel your stomach flip, your fingers tightening around your glass.

They’re about to start sharing stories.

You laugh along with the others, cheeks warm, limbs loose from the cocktails and the late hour. The game has moved into dangerous territory—no longer silly little confessions, but real ones. Blurred lines. Edging into intimacy.

Zayn’s thigh is still pressed against yours, the leather of the booth creaking when either of you shifts. He hasn’t said much since Louis’ bathroom story, but you feel him there. Solid. Present.

“Alright,” Harry says, swirling the last of his drink, voice low and mischievous, “my turn.”

“Oh no,” Liam groans. “Here we go.”

Harry grins. “Never have I ever had a one-night stand.”

The table explodes.

Niall howls, immediately downing his drink.

Louis slaps his hand to his heart. “So many sins. So little time.”

Liam drinks with an awkward little cough. “University was… a time.”

Even Zayn lifts his glass and sips—no drama, no explanation.

And then they all look at you.

You hesitate.

Smile faintly.

And slowly shake your head.

You don’t drink.

At first, no one reacts.

Not really.

Louis is already halfway into another story—something about a girl who turned out to be a twin. But then he falters, eyes narrowing just slightly.

“Wait,” he says, pointing at you with a squint. “Not even once?”

You give a small shrug. “Nope.”

Niall frowns. “But you said you’ve been in relationships.”

“Not… really,” you say. “I’ve dated. But nothing serious.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Liam’s brows lift, something dawning in his expression. “So… wait—”

“I haven’t,” you say quickly, cheeks burning. “Had sex. Ever.”

The words feel loud, too loud.

You wish you could grab them and stuff them back in your mouth.

There’s another pause, longer this time.

Then—

“Oh.” Niall says, soft and surprised.

You brace yourself for awkwardness. For teasing. For the boys to make it weird, even if they don’t mean to.

But instead—

“That’s alright,” Liam says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Louis blinks, then grins. “Shit, I think that just means you’ve got standards.”

Harry laughs. “High ones, clearly, if none of us ever made the cut.”

You snort, tension starting to break. “Please. You lot couldn’t handle me.”

That earns a chorus of laughter, and the mood shifts again—gentle now, softer around the edges.

Niall leans across the table, eyes kind. “You don’t have to feel weird about it. Honestly. If anything, you’re the only one here who hasn’t had some tragic, messy story.”

“Oh yeah,” Louis nods seriously. “You’re the only one who’s still pure. You must be protected at all costs.”

You roll your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks is fading, replaced by something warmer. Something steadier.

But beside you, Zayn hasn’t said anything.

You risk a glance, and he’s still looking at you—jaw slightly tight, fingers tracing the condensation on his glass like he’s trying to work something out.

“Zayn?” you say quietly, half-joking. “You alright?”

He snaps out of it, blinking once. “Yeah. Sorry. Just—”

He pauses.

Then, softly, “Didn’t expect that.”

You smile nervously. “Surprise.”

But he doesn’t laugh.

He just keeps looking at you, like he’s seeing you differently now. Not in a bad way. Just… deeper.

“How’s someone like you never…” He trails off, brow furrowing. “I mean—you’re beautiful. And kind. And smart. And—”

You blink, caught off guard.

He shakes his head, like the words slipped out before he could stop them. “Sorry. That sounded—fuck. That sounded weird.”

“No,” you say quickly, voice smaller than before. “It didn’t.”

Louis whistles. “Alright, loverboy.”

Zayn shoots him a glare, but there’s no real bite in it.

You can feel your pulse racing again—but this time, not from embarrassment.

From something else entirely.

Something new.

And maybe a little electric.

You try to laugh off the moment, but Zayn’s words linger in the air like smoke—visible, heavy, and impossible to ignore.

He’s still watching you, jaw tight, one hand wrapped around his drink like he’s forgotten it’s there. The way he’s looking at you now is… different. Focused. Almost reverent, like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Which, apparently, is also not going unnoticed.

Harry is the first to clock it. His eyebrows lift slowly, mouth twitching like he’s about to say something but—shockingly—chooses not to.

Louis, however, is less restrained.

He leans across the table, nudging Niall. “Is it just me, or did Zayn’s soul just leave his body for a second there?”

Zayn snaps out of his trance with a slow blink. “Piss off.”

Niall grins, catching on immediately. “Mate, you alright? You’ve gone a bit… soft in the eyes.”

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands.

Zayn shifts beside you, clearly trying to play it cool. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Do what?” Louis says innocently, clearly delighted. “We’re just admiring how smitten you look.”

“Yeah,” Harry adds, voice smooth, “it’s kind of sweet. Like watching a Victorian man fall in love with a scandalous woman who just showed him her ankle.”

Liam lets out a loud laugh. “Ankle, wow.”

You finally lower your hands, aiming a glare at the whole table. “You’re all children.”

Louis grins. “And yet you’re the one being courted in public.”

“Oh my God,” you mutter.

Zayn tries to lean back, casual, but the blush rising in his cheeks gives him away. “You lot are insufferable.”

“Maybe,” Liam says with a shrug, “but we’re not wrong.”

Niall lifts his glass. “To sexual tension.”

You slap a hand over his mouth before he can say more, laughing despite yourself.

Zayn shoots you a sideways glance, something soft behind his eyes. “You okay?”

You nod, heart thudding. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” he says, and there’s something heavier in his voice. “I just… didn’t think you’d be full of surprises like that.”

You tilt your head, trying to keep things light. “You saying I seem like the type?”

He looks at you for a long beat, eyes warm. “Nah. I’m saying I don’t think I’ve figured you out yet.”

Your breath catches.

And across the table, four smug idiots exchange glances.

“Oh, they’re definitely gonna hook up before the tour ends,” Louis whispers loudly to Harry, who nods like he’s observing wildlife in its natural habitat.

You and Zayn say nothing.

But neither of you look away.

You try to shake it off—try to join back into the game, sip your drink, laugh at Harry’s impression of their old vocal coach—but it’s impossible to ignore Zayn’s presence beside you now. Like the heat of him has increased, the space between your bodies charged with something electric.

Every time you move, your thigh brushes his. Every time someone laughs too loud or leans too close, you feel his hand lightly graze your lower back as if instinctively grounding you.

The others keep stealing glances. Less subtle now.

“God, the vibes,” Louis mutters under his breath, dramatically fanning himself with a coaster.

“Should we leave them alone?” Niall asks, not even bothering to whisper.

“I’d be concerned if it wasn’t so hot,” Harry adds, sipping his drink with a smirk.

You shoot them all a look, but your heart is beating too fast for it to land properly.

Zayn, to his credit, doesn’t say anything. But you feel him tense beside you—like he’s fighting the same thing you are.

Liam glances at his watch and stretches. “Alright, I’m calling it. My liver’s begging for mercy.”

“Same,” Niall agrees, dragging his coat off the back of the booth. “And I want chips before bed.”

Everyone starts to shift, gathering phones and unfinished drinks. You follow suit, sliding out of the booth—Zayn moves too, standing beside you like it’s automatic. Protective.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Louis calls, clapping you both on the shoulder as he passes. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves a lot of questionable grey area,” you mutter, earning a chorus of snickers.

The group spills out onto the pavement, the night cool and crisp, city lights glinting off the sidewalk. They start debating whether to walk or call a car, scattering slightly in different directions.

You hang back a little.

So does Zayn.

You’re both quiet for a second, until he speaks—voice low, like it’s just for you.

“Wanna walk?”

You glance at him, heart thudding. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

The others are too busy arguing over the route to notice as you peel away, footsteps falling into rhythm as the buzz of the night folds around you both.

You don’t say anything right away.

Neither does he.

But his hand brushes yours, once.

Then again.

And then—slowly, deliberately—he laces his fingers through yours.

Just like that.

And you let him.

The walk back is quiet. Comfortable.

Zayn doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way, even when you reach the hotel entrance, even when the doorman gives you both a knowing look as he holds the door open.

The lobby is mostly empty—just soft lighting, a few murmured voices from the overnight staff, the faint hum of an elevator arriving. You glance toward the others, who are still bickering near the vending machines, loud and distracted.

No one’s looking.

Zayn doesn’t stop walking.

He gives your hand a gentle tug, and you follow him into the lift without a word.

You ride up in silence. His thumb is stroking along your knuckles, slow and steady, grounding you even as your heart thumps against your ribs.

You’re not sure what this is. Or what it’s about to be.

But you don’t want to let go, either.

The doors slide open on his floor, and he turns to you—voice soft, careful.

“You don’t have to,” he says, like he’s offering you an out. “But if you want to come up. Just to hang out. Or talk. Or… not talk.”

There’s no pressure in his tone. No expectation.

Just Zayn. Quiet. Open. Honest.

You nod once, heart catching in your throat. “Yeah. I want to.”

He leads you down the hall, your hand still in his. The corridor is dim and quiet, carpet muffling your footsteps. When he reaches his room, he swipes the keycard and pushes the door open with his shoulder.

It’s a typical hotel suite. Neat. A little impersonal. But it smells faintly like him—warm spice and something smoky.

He lets your hand go gently, just long enough to toss the card on the counter and flick on a lamp.

The room fills with a soft amber glow.

You’re suddenly hyperaware of the silence. The way the door clicks shut behind you. The way his eyes find yours in the quiet.

He steps a little closer. Not crowding you, just… nearer.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low.

You nod. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

You hesitate—then smile, small and a little breathless. “Are you?”

He laughs under his breath. “Not even a little.”

And for some reason, that calms you more than anything.

You let out a breathy laugh, the kind that feels more like a release than amusement. “You don’t seem that nervous.”

“I’m good at pretending,” he says, and for a moment, the smile slips from his lips. “I didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”

You nod, fingers toying with the hem of your sleeve. “Me neither.”

He watches you for a second, then speaks again—quieter now. “Is it bad that I wanted to be around you tonight? Even before the game. Even before I knew…”

You look up at him.

His eyes are serious. Warm.

“I think I’ve been trying not to think about you like that,” he says, like he’s confessing something heavy. “Because you work with us. And you’re Lou’s. And you’re… you.”

“Me?” you ask, brows lifting.

Zayn gives a small, almost helpless smile. “Yeah. You. You’re funny, and sharp, and you don’t take shit from any of us. You look after everyone, and you don’t even realise it.”

Your heart thuds against your ribs, something fluttering and fragile rising in your chest.

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” you say, the words slipping out before fear can catch them. “And not just tonight.”

He exhales like he’s been holding that breath for a while. Then he nods—just once—and steps closer again.

This time, when he lifts a hand to your cheek, you lean into it.

His thumb brushes your skin.

And then he kisses you.

It starts soft—tentative, exploratory, like he’s afraid to break something delicate. But when your hands find the hem of his shirt, and he sighs against your mouth, the kiss deepens. His other hand finds your waist, then your back, pulling you closer until there’s barely space between you at all.

You feel dizzy with it. The heat of him, the scent of his skin, the way he’s kissing you like he wants to know every part of you, every thought.

But then he pulls back suddenly, breath hitching. His hands still on your hips, but his face just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, eyes closed. “Wait.”

You pause, blinking up at him. “Zayn?”

He lets out a rough breath. “I didn’t bring you back here just to sleep with you.”

You smile softly. “Okay.”

“I mean—I wanted to be with you tonight, yeah,” he says, words tumbling out fast now. “But I didn’t have some plan. I didn’t think, oh, she’s a virgin, now’s my chance. I swear I didn’t. I just… wanted more time with you. Away from them. Just us.”

“Zayn,” you say gently, resting your hand against his chest. “Even if you had brought me back here to have sex with me… I would’ve been okay with it.”

He opens his eyes then. Searching yours like he’s making sure.

“Because I trust you,” you continue. “And because I wanted this too. I still do.”

His shoulders drop slightly, the tension in them bleeding out. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You smile, letting your fingers trace the edge of his shirt. “You keep saying that.”

He leans in again, this time slower, more certain. “Because I keep meaning it.”

And when he kisses you again, there's no more hesitation.

It’s still gentle—deliberate—but deeper now. Slower. The kind of kiss that makes your knees a little unsteady. He backs you toward the bed with soft touches and quiet breaths, never rushing, never letting his hands wander too far too fast. Just enough to let you feel him. To know he’s there.

You fall back onto the mattress with a breathless laugh, and he follows, crawling over you with a low, fond hum. His hands settle at your hips, grounding you, but his eyes search yours again.

“You good?”

You nod, breath hitching. “Yeah.”

“Tell me if you want to stop.”

“I won’t.”

He leans in again, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your throat. “Still gonna say it. As many times as you need.”

You reach for him, curling your fingers into the soft cotton of his shirt, tugging gently. “Take this off?”

Zayn sits up just enough to pull the shirt over his head in one smooth motion. You drink in the sight of him—bare skin, warm tattoos, the soft shadows that curve down his stomach. He doesn’t flex. Doesn’t show off. Just watches your face as you look at him.

You reach up and run your hand down his chest, slow. He shivers under your touch.

“Your turn,” he murmurs.

You nod, and he helps you—soft and careful, lifting your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra without fumbling or asking questions. Like he wants to make it easy. Like he’s been thinking about this longer than he’ll ever admit.

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes roaming your chest, your waist, the soft curve of your stomach. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

You flush, but he doesn’t give you time to hide. He kisses you again, slower now, and lets his hands explore—palms dragging over your skin like he’s trying to memorize it. His mouth finds your collarbone, then lower, sucking a soft mark just under your breast. You arch up into him, a shaky gasp escaping your lips.

“That feel good?” he murmurs against your skin.

You nod, voice barely there. “Yes.”

His hands work down your body, undoing the button of your jeans, slipping them down your legs with the same kind of reverence he’s shown all night. You’re bare beneath him now, just your underwear still on, and Zayn kisses your inner thigh before glancing up.

“Can I taste you?”

You feel your breath leave you.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

Zayn lowers himself between your legs like he’s worshiping, not rushing, just sinking onto his knees at the edge of the bed with maddening calm. His hands slide up the backs of your thighs, thumbs sweeping in slow circles as he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee—then higher. Another kiss, hotter now. Then higher still.

You’re already trembling.

No one’s ever done this before. Not even close.

He leans in and kisses you over the thin fabric of your underwear, warm breath ghosting across your skin, and the sound you make is barely human. A choked gasp, hips jolting slightly before his hands tighten to keep you grounded.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmurs, voice full of awe. “So responsive already.”

You manage a shaky breath. “I’ve never…”

Zayn glances up, eyes dark and soft. “No one’s ever gone down on you?”

You shake your head, suddenly shy again. “No.”

He lets out the quietest groan, his thumbs grazing along your hips. “That’s gonna change. Right now.”

And then he peels your underwear down.

Slow.

Torturous.

He watches as he does it, his eyes fixed on the way your body’s revealed to him inch by inch. When the fabric is finally gone and you’re bare before him, he exhales like he’s just seen something sacred.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You’re dripping.”

Your whole body lights up at the way he says it—rough, reverent, hungry.

Then his mouth is on you.

It starts with a slow lick, from bottom to top, just enough pressure to make your back arch. You gasp—your fingers shooting down to tangle in his hair—and he groans against you like your reaction alone is enough to wreck him.

He flattens his tongue and licks again, firmer this time. Then a flick—precise, teasing—over your clit that makes you moan, loud and raw.

“Oh my God—”

He hums, mouth closing around you, and the vibration nearly makes you come undone.

His tongue moves in perfect rhythm, unrelenting but still somehow patient, like he wants to savor every twitch of your body, every breathy moan. He circles your clit with slow, steady flicks, then sucks gently, just once—enough to have you clenching around nothing, toes curling, a whimper breaking from your lips.

Your thighs start to shake, and he slides his hands under them, spreading you wider, holding you open for him like he never plans to stop.

“Zayn—fuck—” You grip the sheets with one hand, the other still tangled in his hair. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” he murmurs, barely lifting his mouth. “You’re doing so fucking good. Just let go.”

You’ve never felt anything like it—like every nerve ending is alive, like the pleasure is building too fast to contain. It rushes up your spine, through your core, until it’s all you are—heat and tension and Zayn’s mouth and—

You shatter.

Your orgasm hits hard, your entire body shaking with it, a cry tearing from your throat as you grind against his tongue. Zayn groans again, deeper this time, holding you through it, licking you gently as your body pulses with aftershocks.

He doesn't pull away until your legs twitch and you whimper from overstimulation.

Then—finally—he lifts his head, lips shiny, pupils blown wide.

“You good?” he asks, voice low and wrecked.

You’re breathless. Boneless. Floating.

“I don’t even know my name right now.”

Zayn grins, crawling back up your body and pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your lips—slow and filthy and sweet all at once. You taste yourself on his mouth and moan softly into him.

“I’ve been dreaming about doing that,” he admits between kisses. “Didn’t think I’d ever get the chance.”

You cup his face, still flushed and dazed. “That was the best thing anyone’s ever done to me.”

His smile softens. “Then let me keep going. Let me make the rest just as good.”

And when he kisses you again, it’s the promise in his voice that makes your heart race all over again.

Zayn’s mouth is still warm against yours, his weight pressed carefully into your body, one hand stroking your side like he’s trying to calm you—but it’s your pulse that’s thundering now, a different kind of need building in your chest.

You trail your fingers down the line of his chest, over the tattoos you’ve only ever seen peeking from under his shirts, your touch featherlight. He shivers.

“You okay?” he murmurs, eyes fluttering open.

You nod. “Yeah. I just… I want to touch you.”

His breath catches.

“You can,” he says, voice rough. “You can do anything you want.”

You slide your hand lower, fingers tracing down the ridges of his stomach, then over the waistband of his jeans. There’s a sharp tension in his jaw now—like he’s trying to stay still for you, to be good, to give you time.

You palm him gently through his jeans, and he lets out a low, shaky exhale, head dropping to your shoulder for a moment.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You smile, gaining a bit of confidence, and undo his button. He lifts his hips slightly to help as you tug his jeans down, then his briefs, revealing him fully. And for a second, you just look.

He’s thick, flushed, hard already from everything you’ve been doing—and from the look of restraint on his face, he’s been aching for you this entire time.

You reach out, fingers curling around him, and he lets out a strangled sound.

“Jesus—okay, slow down—” His hand covers yours, not to stop you, but to guide. “Like this.”

He shows you, gently—how to stroke him, how to twist your wrist just enough at the top, how to run your thumb over the sensitive underside. You follow his lead, watching his face as his eyes fall shut and his lips part.

He groans again, deeper this time, hips rocking up into your fist.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You lean up and kiss his jaw. “I like seeing you like this.”

His eyes open—dark, wild, and reverent.

“I like you seeing me like this,” he whispers, and the honesty in it makes your stomach flutter.

You keep stroking him until his breath turns ragged, his hips twitching, his muscles trembling under your touch.

Then he catches your wrist gently, stilling you. “If you keep going, this’ll be over too fast.”

You smile, flushed and pleased. “You make it hard not to.”

He leans down and kisses you again, this time with heat behind it. “Come here.”

He reaches into the drawer again, his hand finding a condom—because now, there’s no more pausing. No more slowing down.

It’s time.

And he’s going to make it just as good for both of you.

Zayn kisses you again as he rolls the condom on—slow and deliberate, never taking his eyes off yours for long. His hand glides down your side, grounding you, while his body settles between your thighs, warm and solid and trembling with restraint.

“You still okay?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper, breath catching. “More than okay.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek, then your throat, then the center of your chest—like a silent thank you. Then he positions himself, the head of his cock nudging your entrance, and pauses.

“This might sting a little,” he says softly. “But I’ll go slow. You just tell me anything you need.”

You nod, and he watches your face as he starts to push in.

You feel the stretch first—thick, deliberate, burning in a way that steals your breath. Your fingers dig into his biceps as your back arches off the mattress, and Zayn stills instantly.

“Breathe,” he whispers, kissing your jaw. “You’re doing so fucking well.”

You exhale shakily, and he continues—inch by inch—until he’s buried to the hilt, his body trembling above yours with the effort of holding back.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight. You feel unreal.”

You feel full, completely overwhelmed in the best way—your body stretched and aching and lit up all at once. But with Zayn’s body wrapped around yours, the pressure starts to ease. The burn fades into heat, into want.

He doesn’t move until you shift beneath him, pressing your hips up gently in silent invitation.

“You sure?” he breathes, voice strained.

“Yes,” you whisper, eyes shining. “Please.”

Zayn kisses you again—slow and deep—before drawing his hips back and pushing in again, slow and measured. The first few thrusts are tentative, shallow, but they still make you gasp, your nails biting into his arms.

He’s careful, watching every reaction you give him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more. “Zayn…”

That’s all it takes.

He groans your name and moves deeper, hips rolling with just enough force to drag a moan out of you. You grip him tighter, the friction growing with every stroke, pleasure curling low in your belly as your body starts to adjust, to crave it.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Just like that, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

His voice wrecks you—deep and reverent, like he’s in awe of you. Like he can’t believe he’s the one making you feel like this.

He starts to move faster now, his thrusts harder but still controlled, like he’s desperate but still focused on you. You cling to him, breathing hard, the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

“You’re doing so good,” he pants. “So fucking good for me.”

Your hips roll up to meet his, desperate for more, chasing that spark again. “Zayn—don’t stop—”

“I won’t,” he groans, his pace quickening. “Wanna make you come again. Want you to fall apart on me.”

You cry out when he hits that spot deep inside you again, over and over, and it’s like everything coils tight—your body clenching around him, your thighs shaking, heat blooming hot and fast.

“Zayn—fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I’ve got you,” he rasps, his hand slipping between your bodies to stroke your clit. “Come for me. Let go.”

And you do.

Your second orgasm crashes into you, harder this time, ripping through your body like a wave. You cry out, shaking under him, your muscles fluttering around his cock as he fucks you through it.

He curses under his breath, hips stuttering as your body squeezes him tight, and then he’s groaning your name as he comes—deep inside you, buried to the hilt, every muscle in his body trembling.

Zayn collapses onto his elbows, forehead pressed to yours, both of you gasping for breath.

For a long moment, there’s just silence.

Heavy breathing. Heartbeats pounding.

Then he kisses you again—soft, slow, almost dazed.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You nod, still clinging to him. “That was… incredible.”

Zayn exhales like he’s been holding that breath the entire time. He leans in and kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your lips against his. His hand moves gently over your side, fingertips dragging lightly down your skin, grounding you.

“You sure you’re okay?” he murmurs again, brushing his nose against yours. “Not too sore?”

“I’m good,” you whisper, still breathless. “Sensitive, but… yeah. I feel good.”

He smiles softly, kissing your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “You were so perfect, you know that?”

You laugh, flushed and floating. “I don’t think I did anything.”

“You let me see you,” he says, voice quiet, reverent. “That’s everything.”

You blink, your throat tightening a little at the way he says it—like you gave him a gift. Like it meant something.

Zayn starts to shift, carefully pulling out of you. You whimper softly at the sensation, and his hand strokes your thigh instantly, soothing.

“Sorry, I know,” he murmurs. “Hang on, I’ll take care of you.”

He slips out of bed and disappears into the bathroom. You hear the water run, the rustle of something soft, and a moment later he’s back, warm towel in hand. He moves gently, kneeling between your legs again, cleaning you up with slow, careful strokes. You’re already squirming, body overstimulated, and he presses a kiss to your knee.

“Almost done, sweetheart.”

Your heart stutters at the nickname.

Once you’re cleaned up, he tosses the towel aside and crawls back into bed, pulling the sheets over you both. His arms slide around you instantly, tugging you into his chest like he can’t stand the thought of space between you now.

You bury your face in his neck, breathing him in—sweat and skin and something warm and smoky that’s just him. His fingers trail lightly up and down your spine, lazy and soft.

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs after a beat. “You sure you’re alright?”

You tilt your head just enough to look at him. “I’m just… kind of in shock. In the best way.”

Zayn watches you, eyes soft in the low light.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his fingers never stopping their gentle glide along your back. “What kind of shock?”

You smile faintly, cheeks warm. “Like… I didn’t know it could be like that. I thought it would be awkward, or painful, or…” You trail off, tucking your head under his jaw again. “But it wasn’t. It felt… safe. And really, really good.”

He exhales a slow breath, his arms tightening around you. “Good,” he whispers. “I wanted it to feel like that for you. I wanted to take care of you.”

“You did,” you murmur. “You do.”

He’s quiet for a second, then tilts his head to rest his cheek against your temple. “I know it was your first time,” he says slowly, “and I don’t ever want you to think I—fuck, I don’t want this to feel like it was some kind of heat-of-the-moment thing for me. Or like it didn’t mean anything.”

Your breath catches.

“I didn’t just bring you back here to fuck you,” he adds, voice quiet but firm. “I brought you back because I wanted you close. Because I’ve been wanting you for a while now, even if I’ve been too much of a coward to say it.”

You lift your head, eyes searching his.

“Zayn…”

He brushes your hair gently behind your ear, his gaze steady. “I care about you. More than I realized, maybe. And I know we’ve been tiptoeing around it, but tonight just—” He swallows. “It made me sure. I don’t want this to be a one-night thing. I want you. For real.”

Your heart thuds hard, and you blink, surprised by how fast the emotion wells in your chest. “I want you too,” you whisper. “I thought maybe I was making more of this in my head, but… I didn’t want it to be just tonight either.”

A slow, crooked smile spreads across his face, like he’s been waiting to hear that. “Good,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Because I’m not letting you go now.”

You laugh softly and curl into him again, one leg hooking over his, your arms sliding around his middle like you never want to be anywhere else.

His hand comes to rest at the small of your back, thumb sweeping in slow, comforting strokes.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur against his chest.

“Anything.”

“Was I okay? Like… did I do okay?”

Zayn freezes for half a second, then lifts your chin gently so you’re looking at him.

“You were incredible,” he says, eyes dark with sincerity. “You were so responsive, so open. You let me see you, and feel you, and… I’ve never been with someone who made me feel like that. Don’t ever doubt it.”

You bite your lip, flustered, but his words settle deep in your chest like something solid. Something warm.

“I meant it,” he adds, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

You blink back sudden tears, overwhelmed and aching in the best way.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Then I’m yours.”

He pulls you in closer, burying his face in your neck, and holds you like he never wants to let go.

“Mine,” he murmurs. “Fuck, I like the sound of that.”

And the way he holds you after that—tight and tender and secure—tells you he means every word.

...

You wake to the feeling of warm fingers tracing lazy circles along your back and the low rasp of Zayn’s voice in your ear.

“Mm. Stay.”

You shift slightly, face still pressed against his chest. “What time is it?”

“Too early,” he mumbles, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist.

You smile against his skin. “We’re supposed to be at hair and makeup in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “But we’re here.”

You laugh, eyes still shut. “That’s not how time works.”

Zayn hums and pulls you even closer, one of his legs slipping between yours, like he’s physically anchoring you in bed. “Five more minutes.”

You give in. Of course you do.

The five minutes turn into ten. Then fifteen. You only finally drag yourself up when your phone buzzes with a message from Lou: “WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU. GET YOUR ASS HERE BEFORE I LET LOUIS DO HIS OWN FOUNDATION AGAIN.”

“Shit,” you mumble, fumbling to get out of bed. “We’re so late.”

Zayn groans, rolling onto his back with one arm draped over his eyes. “I’d rather die than go to glam right now.”

You toss one of his hoodies over your head—it smells like him, and it’s soft and worn in the best way. He watches you from the bed, eyes hooded and slow-blinking like a cat in the sun.

“You look good in that,” he murmurs, voice still sleepy. “You should keep it.”

You pause at the mirror, cheeks warming. “You saying that because you want to see me in it again, or because you’re too lazy to wash it?”

“Both.”

You huff a laugh and toss him a clean shirt from his suitcase. “Get dressed, Malik.”

...

You both slip into the makeup trailer twenty-five minutes late, trying to be casual about it—but the second you open the door, the entire room freezes.

Harry’s halfway through a pastry, Niall’s drinking coffee, Liam’s looking over his shoulder at something on Lou’s phone, and Louis is—of course—the first to break the silence.

He points dramatically. “You two had sex!"

You freeze mid-step. Zayn stops beside you, one hand still in his hoodie pocket like this is all very normal.

Harry chokes on his pastry.

Liam sighs, rubbing his forehead like he’s already tired.

Niall mutters, “Took them long enough,” and goes back to his coffee.

You stare at Louis, wide-eyed. “How do you know that?”

Louis stands from the makeup chair like he’s about to deliver a TED Talk. “Let’s examine the evidence, shall we? You’re late. You’re glowing. You’re wearing his hoodie. And Zayn hasn’t looked away from you once since walking in. I rest my case.”

You blink. “You just described coincidence.”

“Oh, please.” Louis turns to the others. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Harry just smirks and says nothing.

Liam coughs behind his hand. “She does look a bit… soft.”

“And he’s smiling,” Niall adds, like that alone is suspicious. “Zayn never smiles this early.”

Zayn finally speaks, calm and cool as ever. “You’re all deeply annoying.”

“And deeply right,” Louis fires back, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You roll your eyes and move around the boys toward the makeup counter, trying to pretend you’re not wearing Zayn’s hoodie, trying to pretend you’re not still a little wrecked from last night. “Can we focus on the actual job now, maybe?”

“Sure,” Harry says, leaning casually against the wall. “Just as soon as Zayn stops looking at you like he wants to write poetry about your mouth.”

You freeze for half a second, brush case halfway unzipped.

Behind you, Zayn hums. “Not a bad idea, actually.”

You toss a makeup sponge at him without turning around. It hits his chest and bounces off.

Lou finally speaks, tapping her fingers impatiently on her palette. “Unless someone here wants to explain to management why I was forced to airbrush Liam using my elbow, I suggest we get back to work.”

“Thank you,” you mutter, stepping beside her and grabbing one of the brushes from your kit. “Finally, someone with sense.”

“Mm,” Lou hums as she inspects a compact. “You’re glowing, by the way.”

Your head snaps toward her. “Seriously?”

She shrugs, entirely unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying. That’s not your usual concealer routine. That’s the kind of glow that comes from… well.” She glances at Zayn. “Clearly a good night.”

Louis absolutely howls with laughter. “Lou!”

Even Liam lets out a surprised chuckle. “She’s not wrong, though.”

You groan, pressing your fingers to your forehead. “You’re all children.”

Louis gasps, clutching his chest. “She confirms it with sass! Look at her—feisty, radiant, tangled in Zayn’s hoodie like a love-drunk woodland creature.”

“I will stab you with this eyebrow pencil,” you mutter, pulling a brush from your kit.

Zayn, still seated in the chair with an air of practiced patience, lifts a brow. “Will you all leave my girlfriend alone, please?”

The room goes very still.

You blink.

Louis gasps again, somehow louder this time. “Girlfriend?” He turns to the others like he’s just witnessed a royal announcement. “Did you hear that? Girlfriend!”

“Confirmed by the man himself,” Niall says with a grin.

Harry gives Zayn a slow clap. “I honestly didn’t think you’d admit it first.”

Liam raises both hands. “I didn’t have that on my bingo card, but I’m not mad.”

Lou doesn’t even look up from her brushes. “Finally. Now maybe we can stop pretending none of us saw this coming two months ago.”

You glance at Zayn, stunned but smiling, and he just shrugs like it’s no big deal—like he hasn’t just casually dropped a title that makes your stomach flip.

“Was that okay?” he murmurs, soft enough only you can hear.

You nod, heart racing. “Yeah. More than okay.”

Louis, meanwhile, is pacing the trailer like he’s narrating a documentary. “First she was just the junior stylist. Quiet. Unassuming. Then—bam!—Zayn Malik’s girlfriend. What a plot twist. What a hero’s journey.”

“Someone sedate him,” Lou mutters.

“I’ve got a setting spray I could use like pepper spray,” you offer.

Zayn smirks. “Use it.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to work, trying not to grin too hard as you catch your reflection in the mirror.

Zayn watches you from his chair, one leg bouncing, one hand curled loosely around the edge of the counter—completely relaxed now.

And when your eyes meet again in the mirror, he winks.

[solar4seekstron]

Chapter 4: Especially when he was unconscious!

Transformers One x reader: Awakening Chapter Four

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Five, Chapter Six

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader

Introduction Movie Masterlist

Tw/Tags: non?? D trust reader a bit more, it was hard to add Elita and B scenes I’m trying. That should be all

(Chapter 4 is here! I had a little more fun for this episode I knew what I wanted to have happen between D and Y/N and yes he’s my favorite (Besides OP and B shut up) and i wanted to show the bit of change we witness in D before his fight with Starscream,. Figured it’ll be right to add it where I did.. I will go back to writing more for Elita but it’s hard to write without it taking out of the story much since honestly Elita feels a little too less developed then the other three. I’m trying guys. I did add that small moment with Shockwave and Soundwave with thee reader just to add something there with the two. Hopefully in the second movie that I’m sure we’ll get eventually will follow the]m and starscream a bit more so fingers crossed. Anyway that should be all I hope you all enjoy this long chapter.)

“They found us!”

The five looked around scared.

“Oh yes, time to fight back!”

”D wait we must-

“No! You must return to Iacon City and alert everyone! Embedded in this are the records I have shown you. Use it to reveal the truth.”

“We will.”

“This tunnel leads to the mountains. Cybertrons future is in your hands.”

“We’re out of time. We gotta move!”

The three of them start running. Orion would follow but then stop to look back at Trion

“Wait! Wait! We can’t just leave you here!”

”Come with us!”

“Your fight will come my friends. Primus has a purpose for us all. But this fight. This fight is mine. Now go!”

The five would then continue their run as Trion stands and waits for the fight. His back to them. Soon parts of the cave collapses and soldiers of sentinel appear with guns. Soon causing smoke then pointing their guns at Trion

“Stand down. Old timer.”

“Ah. Old you say?”

Trion would then use his powers. Transforming and attacking th the guards giving Orion and the others time to escape

“Not too old for you.”

But when he looks up he is then attacked by Airachnid who pins him down

“We need to hurry!”

“I still think we have better odds fighting than out running them.”

“Wait! We have cogs! We can transform now.”

“That’s right! Everyone ready?”

“I was born ready!”

“On three! One-“

From there they fall. The gang then struggling with parts of their bodies transforming. As the others struggled Y/Ns blades started spinning which caused them to trip and spin side ways because of the blades down the hill. Going up and down in short and hard bumps. Their body spinning along.

“Hey I got- woah! Help HELP!!!!”

“How do we use these things?!”

“I don't know! Just try!”

“It’s working haha! It’s work- My head. My head! Help! Help!”

“This is not faster!”

“Come On!”

“Aaaand- Transform!! Wheels! I need Wheels!”

Once in the forest deeper three guards would stop in front of them shooting. The five then keep running then once in mid air they all transform hitting the guards. Bee would then hit a rock breaking his stop being in vehicle mode still

“Oh yeah we’re alive!”

The four would then talk to each other super excited. Not noticing the guard behind Orion pointing their blaster until the guard is then shot and flown back. D coming in and landing on the guard as he laughs

“Yes!”

“Hey woah buddy. You ok?”

“I’m great! Are you kidding me? We can transform! We. Trans. Form!”

“Wait I-I- I know. I know.”

“We’re wasting time. We have to get back to Iacon.”

“Looks like the fastest way back to Iacon i-“

“Here I got it!”

“Woah hey what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah but our proof is inside and you’re spilling it everywhere.”

D would then turn to face Orion and in a low voice speaks as he stares Orion down and stares closer. Elita and B watching in shock as well.

“I. Got. It.”

“Ok.”

D would look at Orion for a moment more. Looking at the map and then the others. D and Y/N making eye contact. Y/N was unsure as they then look down and a bit of fear in their eyes. Then looking back at Orion. Satisfied with Orions answer before heading forth

“Follow me.”

Orion and the others would start follwoing him after a second

———————————————————————————

As they continue to walk as the sun starts to set. Orions face shows that he’s worried about his friend. Elita and B can tell as well. Y/N then gets the idea walking past Orion and stood next to D who was a lot further ahead then the others.

”Hey D look when we get back we will take down sentinel.”

”I don’t want to kill sentinel i want to-“

”I know what you want to do. I know how you’re feeling because I am feeling it too!” This catches D off guard bit as the two keep walking. Y/N would then sigh

“I want sentinel to suffer just as much as you do. But we must also think smart. If he has been in power for this long then surely we’re just walking into a trap. A web.” The two wold stand and face eachother. D grumbling and sighing as he looked to the side. The three stoppping and just watching staying at the same distance.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to stay stronger. With th help of the people I know I can only trust.” D would put his hand on their arm as he stepped a bit closer with a smile that isn’t as in concept as it use to be. Y/N looked at him still unsure and looked down for a moment

”D strength isn’t always-“

”I can trust you to be there….right?” His hand squeezing their arm a bit and pulling them a bit closer

”….Always.” They say finally looking at him. His smile still there and he pats their back and starts walking forward again. Leaving them there as the others start walking to them

”You tried…Thank you.” Orion stand next to them. They would pt their hand on his shoulder and just nods. Orion, Elita and B start walking as Y/N Stoof there for a second. Their expression changing from sort of sad to angry then to unsure

*Back at Sentinels Tower———————

“Alpha trion! You are still alive? Won’t you look at that! You look horrible.”

“Traitor. You are a disgrace. Primus will surely-“

“Uh-huh yes shut up. I seized an opportunity to take control of my future. Anything to get out of working for you and that boring council of elders. Seriously I would watch you primes spend half the day losing a war and the other half sitting around waxing poetic loyalty and honor. But now look at you.”

“Hear my words! You will fall and a new prime will rise-“

“There you go again. I don't want to listen to any more speeches. There was others in the cave with you. Who are they?”

“They are to be your undoing you’ve lost Sentinel. Nothing can-“

From Trion would kill Trion

“Ugh didn’t I just say no speeches. You heard me right? This is what I’m talking about. Unbelievable. All of them were like that. So disrespectful. Given that friend of the miners Y/N didn’t visit. My money is it has something to do with them and whomever else with them. A real shame really.” He would then sigh then look over at Airachnid

“Ok hunt down the others.”

“With pleasure.”

———————————————————————————

*Back to the others-

The group are walking after transforming. Y/N having sitting on the end of Orions truck. Their helicopter would make too much noise. Once they transform Y/N made sure to get off to let Orion to transform as well.

“Hey buddy!”

“Yo.”

“Hey…You've been a little quiet. Are you alright?”

Orion walks next to D as the other two stay behind

“All I can think about is Sentinels' smirking face. He must pay for what he’s done. Someone has to do something.”

“We are! With Alpha Trions proof inside that device we will show everyone the truth.”

“You honestly believe it’ll be that easy? Iacon doesn’t want to hear the truth. They worship sentinel. There’s got to be a better way to bring him down.”

“We just have to trust that everyone will believe what we show them-“

The two would stop for a moment

“I trusted sentinel! With everything! I will never trust a so-called leader ever again. There’s only one bot I know I can-“

The five are then attacked and knocked out cold by a device

“All right. Wake them up!”

Orion and the others would then wake up. Orion closer in the front as D was beind him on the right. And D and Elita on his left a bit further. Y/N was in front of the two but a bit further from Orions left

“Now. Are you spys? Or just incompetent lackeys?!”

“We’re not spys.”

“But he is incompetent.”

”Elita.”

“Scanning electrical impulses. He’s telling the truth.”

“That just means he believes himself! Like any spy would.”

B would try to speak

“Uh why is he gagged?”

“He wouldn’t stop talking!”

“Even when he was unconscious?”

“Especially when he was unconscious!”

“Enough! Two options for you! One. We slowly dismantle each of you one bolt and screw at a time. And really make sure you feel it. Or two. An exchange for a quick death you give us and tell on the energon trains. Access to mines. Or anything else that could hurt your boss' sentinel prime!”

“Who exactly are you guys?”

“The Cybertronian high guard!”

“I told you it wasn’t tight enough!”

“Prestigious defenders of Iacon!”

“Prestigious?”

“Wait, he's right. I read all about you in the archives! You were the most legendary warriors of all of Cybertron.”

“Look! Look! Look! There’s Starscream and you’re Shockwave and Soundwave! Guys raise your hand if there’s a wave is in your name there’s a lot of waves.”

“Silence! The yellow annoying one is correct.”

“WOAH!”

“We were once the high guard. We witnessed sentinels betrayed. Saw the primes fall. Since that day we’ve been fighting from the shadows. Doing whatever we can to sabotage sentinel.”

“That’s great! We’re-Oh ok ok! We’re good! Everyone relax. I’m just saying we’re allies. We were on our way back to Iacon and now with your help. We can unify Cybertron against sentinel prime.”

“The idea of a unified Cybertron is a myth. All that counts is the strength of one bot over another!”

“Ok so these- these guys are a little intense.”

“Yeah. Just a little.”

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“I'll tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not cowering inside some busted ship playing king of the throne. I’m not pretending like I’m making a difference by throwing in one punch and then running away to hide! I found out that sentinel is rotten today and I’m going to make him pay for it. Today!”

“You think you can insult me and just walk away? No one leaves here unless I say so.”

“Is that right? Well how can you say so. With my head in your teeth?”

“D!”

“D would hit Starscream with his head. Causing Starscream to get irritated and fly in the air to kick D. Only for him to block it. Starscream would then fly and grab D. Flying him to the ceiling and punching him only for D to transform his leg and kick him. Starscream would fall back D landing on his feet over him and starts throwing punches at Starscream face

“Hit me! Do it! Come on! Hit more!”

Shockwave would then be seen taking a step to walk to them but Soundwave would stop him. The two looked at each other before looking back at the two. D would then notice the other bots cheers causing D to look around surprised, confused, but now given with pride

“You want to see the strength of one bot over another?!”

“Is that all you got, tough guy? Lets go! Come on! “

D would then gain a canon. He stops to look at it for a moment before looking back at startscream. Orion and Y/Ns face shocked

“Please! I beg you!”

“Stop! D! He’s not the enemy!”

“Bare witness! This is the last time I show mercy. Decide right now! You can stay here in hiding. Bowing before your pathetic leader or follow me as we march on Iacon and I take down sentinel once and for all!!!”

From there D shoots up as the other bots cheer and walk to D. Shockwave and Soundwave doing the same as the bots walk around Elita, B, and Orion as D is soon surrounded. Orion would then look at D as everything seems to slow down. D would look back but his eyes only passing Orion as he looked at the other bots around him having an angry look. D would then make eye contact with Y/N you looked at him with worry and sad eyes. The stare going only for a second as Y/N grows scared but more so worried. From there, there’s a huge explosion causing many to fly back. The hidden base now attacked my sentinels guards

“B! Come on!”

B and Orion fight together shooting at the soldiers. Y/N and Elita join together and start fighting showing off their fighting skills.

“Engage all hostiles. I got the bridge.”

The fight would commence and after a minute the fight was over. B and D were taken as Elita and Orion are left behind. During the fight, Y/N would be cornered. They would then look at the blades of their alt mode and sigh.

”Well better then nothing.” Choosing to use them as swords until they realize most of the blade was a cover up for their swords. They then start fighting at their swords were like sabers and they start slicing up the guards. The fighting continueing

”Elita get down!”

Y/N was thrown by an explosion to the side behind the ship. From there they would grab a gun and wait to ambush one of the soilders. Only to hear one of them com Airachnid that Orion and Elita were gone. With everything Y/N starts to panick saying quiet. Then hearing they got B and D-16. They would then wait until the soilders to leave then once they’re far enough. They are successfully able to get away transforming into their helicopter not noticing the remaining guard. Y/N was so fueled with anger and sadness. That all they can think about is to just save their remaining friends being D-16 and B-127.

———————————————————————————

*Later that morning-

“I feel like someone dropped a cliff on me. Where are the others?”

“Sentinel troops took as many prisoners as they could carry. They got D-16 and B….there’s a chance they could’ve taken Y/N but when asking one of the captured guards he said they didn’t tale Y/N and their body. Isn’t anywhere….”

“Oh no.”

“And half of those high guard nut jobs.”

“Our proof. It’s gone.”

“So what do we do now?”

“D was right.”

“About what?”

“Everything! Look at it. Look around. This is a disaster. It’s all my fault I should’ve stayed on protocol.”

“Listen to me, I really want you to hear this. Are you listening? I’m better than you.”

“Yeah ok. I’m hearing you.”

“I’m better than you in every way except you have hope. You always have. You went into the mine to rescue Jazz. You snuck up into the surface to find the Matrix of Leadership.”

“Yeah, and how did that work out?”

”My point is that your instincts tell you to break protocol for a reason. This blind optimism that you have is why you make such bold and courageous choices. That are extremely stupid.”

“First time giving a pep talk?”

“You’re inspiring. You can envision a better future that no one else can see. And if we ever wanna see B and D-16 and possibly Y/N again. That. That is the Orion Pax that we need right now. Listen to me, we can do this.”

“Those energon trains will be heading back to Iacon. If we intercepted one-“

“Hell yes. I can reroute it. What else do we need?”

“Well my bold instincts tells me we have to recruit some nut jobs.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Uhh Shockwave, Soundwave. You in the back. In order to save our captured friends we have to act now.”

“How about I blast you back to Iacon- Ugggh she punched me in my eye!”

“Everyone shut up! All of you! Listen to him!”

“Most likely our friends are being held captive at the top of sentinels tower. A surprise attack will give us a chance to rescue them.”

“Impossible. We do not have enough soldiers or a way inside.”

“Elita will get us in. And I will get more troops.”

‘Why should we follow you?”

Elita threatens him again with the show of her fists

“We will follow you.”

“Attention High Guard. Prepare for battle. What is our first move?”

“We roll out.”

“What?”

“Louder.”

“Transform and Roll Out!”

I couldn’t really find a right place to add anything for the high guard with the reader. But that’s what my other series Before and So Forth is for lol. Hope y’all enjoyed this chapter

[valscodblog]

𝓑𝓐𝓛𝓛𝓡𝓞𝓞𝓜𝓢-John Price x OC

Warnings: GOOGLE TRANSLATE WAS USED. Im sorry, Tags: @thebunnednun, @2econd-of-1sts, @rainyrambles-overcod, @writing-with-moss <3333

A/N: I DONT KNOW FRENCH AND IDK IF ANY OF MY MOOTS KNOW FRENCH SO IF ANYONE NATIVE TO THE TONGUE READS THIS AND CANT UNDERSTAND IT, IM SORRY, OKAY?? Google Translate was my best friend during this *sob* ALSO I HAD TO WATCH THE FUCKING WALTZ VIDEO LIKE FOUR TIMES BC I GOT MOVMENTS WRONG SO IF ITS STILL MAKING NO SENSE IM SORRY

She groaned and threw on her best red dress-"Why red, Kate?" "Because you need to stand out tonight, Val. You need to make sure John can see you and notice you, since you wont be arriving with him!" "I hate red, Kate." "He loves you in red." "...Like that motivates me."-and looked at herself. She almost wished her captain had said no to this co-op with 141. She slid on some heels and walked out, snagging a black purse and a fuax-fur boa to hang around her shoulders. She stepped out into the dining room, where her father was with her mother. Her mother grinned and jumped up to embrace her daughter. "¡Por fin! ¡Has decidido convertirte en mujer, querida!" Valentina grimiced, "Only for tonight-It's Father's opening! Such a grand event calls for a dress, no?" "Claro!" Valentina murmured, "Father...do you-" "It's from a brand that is not mine. I do not approve, however...It's so hard getting you into a dress to begin with that I really don't want to fight it. So, I'll let it slide." No wonder why his mother named you Valentino, She thought bitterly. She turned away and walked out into the open foyer. She took a deep breath before she heard a car horn honk four times. She ran outside as fast as she could in her heels and met Kate outside, like they planned. "Hey, lookin' Good, Val! How do you feel?" "Shitty, like dying, and....Amazingly pretty." Kate smiled. "Good, now remember, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and I are caiters with a secret coms channel with you and John-he'll give you the ear peice- if you spot the enemy before you see John, or one of us, run out. Ghost has eyes everywhere, he'll see you even if you can't see him."

Valentina nodded. "Yes, Ma'am." Kate nodded. "I have to get going. Be safe...and try to get along with your mom and dad?" "No." "Thought not. You'll be back on 141's base soon. Don't worry." Out of France. Thank god. She nodded and walked back into her house, only to be shoved back out by her mother, "¡El valet! ¡Está aquí! ¡Vamos, vamos, muévete!" Valentina ran out to the slick black limousine and sighed as she slid into the red leathered seats. She grabbed a wine glass and poured herself half a glass-but her father stole it. "Thank you, M'dear."

She narrowed her eyes but grumbled, "Welcome..." god, she hated that man. Valentina couldn't wait until they got there.

She heard her father announce the start of the Gala and she ran down the stairs and out onto the dance floor. She not only spotted John-She'd spotted the fucking enemy With him. She got caught by the wrist so she looked behind her and gasped. "Bonjour, ma chère... Envie de danser avec moi?" Valentina shook her head. "Non-" "We both know you Will dance with me if you want Price to live," 'Chase' muttered under his breath. Valentina glared at him but nodded and let him lead her out to the dance floor.

John watched. He grabbed a glass of wine from Soap's serving tray, muttering, "Keep close to her...I don't know that man but she seems to not like him." Truth was, he didn't know who 'Chase' was, or that the enemy wasn't just one man, but two. John watched as she bowed to the blonde man and took her leave to the minibar. He walked over to her as waltzing music started to play. Perfect. He could Waltz. No problem. He cleared his throat.

"Pardon a moi, Madamo-" "I speak English," Valentina cut him off with. He quirked a brow up. She knew how to keep the guys away, thats for sure. "Well, thank god. I was wondering...would you care to dance with me?" She smiled softly at John, and he took her hand and le her back out to the floor. Valentina lifted her arm up and straight away from herself and John held her free hand, pulled her slightly towards him, they bowed to each other and John smirked and they started to dance together. He spun her and she giggled, "Well-You waltz rather good...For and English man." and she was spun yet again, they held hands again, pushed each other away but were still connected by said hands and came together again, repeated this, then mirrored each other by waving their left arms out and then back to the default stance, then out then back, and so on.

John was having a good time. Then he spun her again and dipped her to the side. Valentina came back to him and whispered, "There's two, Johnathan. Two of them." John hummed. "As much as I'd rather not think of it, what do we do?" "...Plan B?" "Agreed." John's back was to her and he scanned the room before having to turn back around to face her again. "What do they look like?" "The one i was dancing with, his callsign's Chase, and the one you were all buddy-buddy with. That's Zap." John snorted. "Zap?" "All his weapons are either electric or he's the hacker of their little missions. Thus, Zap."

John grimaced but then he dipped her again as the song ended and he panted as he gripped onto her for dear life-they hadn't even realized that they had been moving on auto-pilot as they talked. Valentina stared at John for a few seconds too long and he stared back. "...John." "Val." She shook her head and pushed him away. She walked off, forcing the blonde man she had danced with to follow her. John narrowed his eyes as he saw the other one she had described quickly follow too.

"Soap-Ghost-Farah. Get in position. Kate...get the police on the line." He walked away after muttering this into the coms, following Valentina outside, acting like he was going to light a cigar. Valentina caught sight of him and walked over. "Ah...the Englishman with a good waltz..." John chuckled. "Careful, Love. Don't want you inhaling this stuff. Very bad on the virgin lungs." Valentina laughed softly. "Oh please. Like i want any of that," she said in disgust, waving her hand in front of her face. John watched the two other men walked over, one had a gun the other, a walkie talkie. "Found 'em, Boss," Zap said, smiling. Valentina froze. "Where's Farah?" "...Three...Two...One."

A gunshot went off, no one heard it. No one except Farah, John, and Valentina. The music inside was far too loud. Kate came outside and a security guard, who was tipped off by Kate what was going to happen that night, showed up with a few other cops. Kate spoke quietly and quickly to them. All the cops nodded and picked up the bodies, dragging them away. One stayed behind however and said, "I'm officer De Pont. I have to explain to your father what has gone down, and tell him to keep it all hush hush until the clean up crew gets here, Madam Hernandez. Im very sorry."

Valentina nodded, "If it's for the best." "It is." "My father may not be the greatest man...but he'll keep this under the carpet if he wants his stores to keep growing." John put a shoulder on her shoulder as the cop walked away. "You grew up." "...Your welcome." Valentina walked back inside and sat down at the minibar again, ordering a small virgin martini. she sighed heavily. "Least the damn drink's never been touched too." "What?" John asked, sliding into a seat next to her.

"Nothing," She murmured softly shaking her head, John smiled and ordered a whiskey. "Too bad they dont have scotch here." "John. It's France...we're mainly a wine country." "Sigh...how sad." Valentina rolled her eyes bit smiled at him. She started up and random conversation about when she was an underaged rookie. John sighed heavily. "And you were one of the best rookies around, Girlie." She smiled at him and asked, "Oh really? Because a certain L.T. told me I would never get anywhere in life." John groaned as he downed the rest of his drink. He ordered another then replied. "I was a huge asshole because you had just joined, you were so small and yet...one of our best rooks. I Hated that."

Valentina sighed. "I hated the fact i forced myself to grow up so quick...i dont why I tried to be just like my cousins...I thought that they were the fuckin' Best...Guess I was wrong. War isn't all fun with guns." John put a hand on her back and ordered a glass of wine. He handed it to Valentina-she quirked a brow up. "John?" "Just drink." Valentina would take advantage of this-if it wasn't John. She set the glass down and whispered, "John...Im only-"

"I know your age. If your scared to get drunk again-" She chugged the fucking glass. John blinked before smirking. "There's m'girl." Ah...he was drunk. French alcohol wasn't a plaything after all. Poor Englishman. Valentina giggled and John ordered her another, then another...and pretty soon, she felt nice and couldn't remember where she was. Kate walked over and groaned. "John. She's underaged! You'll get arrested-" "It's legal. She's nineteen." Kate quirked a brow up, realizing that this was France. Kate sighed. "I'd better call the uber before you two get so drunk you wake up right where you two sit."

John nodded. "Good idea." So he let Kate drag him up and then he grabbed Valentina's hand, kissed the knuckles and let her wrap her arm around his and giggled out his name. And So sweetly at that. John walked her out of there, his own head barely holding up on his stiff shoulders. The valet that had driven Valentina there pulled up and asked, "Où aller ?" "Grand Hotel du Palais Royal." The driver nodded and as soon as they were buckled in started the drive. Valentina leaned over to John and murmured, "Your hot." John smiled, putting a a hand on her thigh.

Valentina tossed the leg with his hand on it over his lap and bit her lower lip. "Frisky, ain't we?" John asked, softly rubbing the thigh. Valentina made a bold move. She moved to fully sit in his lap. She hummed and murmured, "Maybe." John let her kiss him and he kissed back. Softly and slowly, his hands rubbing her thighs and he groaned after. "Val, wait...We're fuckin'-" "I know. Makes it more fun, don't it?"

John hummed softly.

The car rolls to a stop and John gathers her up in his arms, carrying her out of the vehicle and into the hotel. The concierge eyed him suspiciously, but John flashed him a smile and a wad of cash, and he hurries to open the door to the elevator. "She's just had a bit too much to drink," he murmured, patting Valentina's back as she nuzzles into his chest, arms around his torso. Hugging him like a teddy bear. "She'll be right as rain in the morning." The concierge nods, clearly not wanting to get involved, and John stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for Val's floor and leaned back against the wall, holding Valentina close. She mumbled something in French, her breath warm against his chest. He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. They reached the floor of his hotel room and he carried her down the hall to his room, fishing the key card out of his pocket with one hand. He managed to get the door open and stumble inside, kicking it shut behind him, the sound making Valentina jolt in his arms. He laid Valentina down on the bed, taking a moment to admire her beauty in the moonlight streaming through the window. 'Your damn gone, aintcha John?' he thought to himself.

Not to mention she's still wearing that bloody red dress, the fabric clinging to her curves. He trailed his fingers down her arm, feeling the softness of her skin-where it wasn't scarred anyways. She sighed softly, her eyes fluttering open. "John? whatter you doin', John-" she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and alcohol. "Shh, love," he  murmured, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "I've got you." She smiled up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I don't want to be alone tonight," she whispered. "You're not alone," he rumbled from deep in his chest, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'm here." She reached up to cup his face, her hands warm due to the blood rushing into them as she used them drunkenly. John pressed a gentle kiss to her palm before pulling away to stand up. He took off his jacket and shirt, tossed them aside before starting on his boots. Valentina watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, her gaze roaming over his chest and shoulders.

"Like what you see, love?" he teased, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. She bite her lip, nodding slowly. "Very much," she murmured. John grinned and took off his pants, standing before her in just his boxers. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her "Never noticed how big ya were..."

He climbed onto the bed, crawling over her slowly, giving her a chance to change her mind. But she doesn't. Instead, she reaches up to run her hands over his chest, her hands gently playing with the patch of hair there. He hissed in a breath, his cock twitching in response-why did that even turn him on? The act was innocent enough..."Fuck, Valentina," he groaned, capturing her lips in a kiss that tasted like both whiskey and wine. She kissed back happily, her tongue tangling with his own. He ground his hips against hers,  watching as she blushed and hooked her arms around his neck. John broke the kiss to trail his lips down her neck, nipping at her pulse point.

"I want you," he whispered against her skin. "I wanna make y'scream f'me, Love." She arched into him, whining, her dress riding up to reveal the lacy edges of her panties. He slid his hand up her thigh, cupping her through the fabric. She's already wet, her arousal soaking through the thin material. "Please, John," she whimpered. She bucked her hips toward his and John shook his head. “You ever taken a dick before?” He noticed how inexperienced her movements were. How unsure of her hand placement was. She shook her head but still murmured, “I still wanna fuck you though...I like the idea of losing my virginity to you.” John sighed heavily. “If your sure..” “I’m sure, John…now will you fuck me?” “No…” he shook his head. And opted for something a little different.

 He slipped his fingers under the edge of her panties, stroking her slick folds. She bucks against his hand, her hips writhing. He circles her clit with his thumb, feeling it swell under his touch. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her, "Feel good, Love?" "Yeah-Yeah keep going." her eyes shut. and she let out a soft moan, grabbing his wrist.

-----

The sun forced her to open her eyes and then shut them again. She rolled over, dragging the blankets over her head. She felt like she had gotten fucked up last night-both ways. But she was...Right? She opened her eyes, took the blanket off her-and Price who was snoring as loud as a lawn mower next to her. He was covered his bite marks, scratches, hickeys...She felt herself stop breathing for a full half a minuet before roughly shaking John awake. "What did we do last night, Johnathan?"

[andastartosteerherby]

SVSSS Fic Rec

I'm updating it everyday, because time crunch.

(Mostly Bingqiu/Bingyuan, Unless Tagged)

*Different Endless Abyss

Guess I'll Die - Shen Qingqiu goes to the Endless Abyss.

Speak No Evil - SQQ gives up his voice to stop Endless Abyss. It happens anyway.

*Amnesia

Night of Yearning - Luo Binghe forgets Shen Qingqiu.

*Jinlan City Goes Differently/Different Reunion/Different Rebirth

High Mountains, How I long

Dew Over - Shen Qingqiu is reborn in the mushroom body and tries to live as Peerless Cucumber.

Honesty is Such a Lonely Word - Shen Qinqiu faces the trial, and Old Palace Master uses a truth-finding artefact.

*Time Loop/Time Travel

Just Like A Monkey (I've Been Dancing My Whole Life) - Instead of being reborn after self-destructing, Shen Qingqiu keeps coming back on the Stairs of the Brothel in Jinlan City.

Master of Dual Cultivation Series - Shen Yuan reboots his time in PIDW. He is traumatised and less happy-go-lucky. This one is multi, with Liu Qingge and Yue Qingyuan getting more focus uptill now (in the first two stories) but Luo Binghe is important too.

*Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan

Deluxe System 2.0: Co-op Mode!

Found Brother Shen brothers.

A-Yuan Has at Least Three Friends - Shen Qingqiu turns into a kid with both Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu's memory. They are the same person.

Replacement Head Disciple Shen Yuan - Set after the Abyss, before Binghe's return. Shen Brothers.

*Epic (These fics are longer and plot-heavy, and won a special place in my heart)

You Reap What You Sow - Luo Binghe is the transmigrator. I thought it would be so-so, but turned out to be one of the best ones I've ever read. Also has Shen brothers.

Xiangyang - When you are born as the daughter of your murderer, what do you do? A question for the ages. No active pairing, original LBH and his harem is present.

Uprooted - Shen Yuan transmigrates as a minor villain in PIDW. Except he's not.

To Stem the Coming Tide - Shen Qingqiu learns about Shang Qinghua a bit earlier, and they plot to avoid their fate. No Endless Abyss.

*IWYWMH & Its AUs

I Wish You Were My Husband - The epickest of epics. It produced a number of spin-offs of it's own. Maybe I should put them under separate sub-headings when I have time. Bingqiu main pair, but has past yuejiu and hints of one-sided liushen.

A Wish to Change Fate - A great fanfic to IWYWMH. Shen Yuan is actually Shen Jiu's reincarnation. This fic touched my heart in all the right ways, gave me things I didn't even know I craved. Someday I should write about it in details. Hings of Bingjiu/Bingyuan (since both are the same).

No Wish for the Wicked - Shen Yuan wasn't around to take the place of Shen Jiu. Sad.

*Bingge

to love another (and to learn yourself) - Bingge tries to get his own Shizun and brings a Shen Yuan. Even without his cultivation power, Shen Yuan is not a pushover. Binggeyuan.

How to Train Your Shen Qingqiu - Another piece I ignored for a long time, but turned out to be very good. I need to reread it.

*WIP

I usually avoid wips, but here are some of the best ones I read:

I Was Transmigrated as a Sword (Gen up till now)

Lotus Seeds - Shen Yuan runs away to save himself from the horrible fate of the Scum Villain - to the realm of the Lotus Eaters.

Scum Villain's Book of Prophecy - Shen jiu reads PIDW and learns the future. Original Luo Binghe/Original Shen Qingqiu. Almost finished, epic length.

[whiskrs]

Despite this being a VERY long post, I’m not really gonna add much of value to the conversation regarding Imane Khelif that hasn’t already been said. This is more…a case study on intersectionality based on tumblr posts and news articles.

If you have trouble conceptualizing or accepting the concept of intersectionality and why it’s incredibly important, just read through the “imane khelif” tag here while paying attention to what exactly the op is defending/arguing. You’ll see mostly 3 things:

First, Imane Khelif is a WOC. In addition to the white western world seeing non-white features as masculine, she is forced to endure an increased level of scrutiny before the starting bell even rings (exacerbated by the fact her opponent was white and cried.) This is the power of white woman tears. This is an issue of racism.

Second, Imane Khelif is collateral in an ongoing war against trans people. All the usual suspects have come out of the woodwork to galvanize an increasingly violent reactionary right wing group into escalating restrictions and hatred against trans people under the guise of protecting women. This is an issue of transphobia.

Third. Imane Khelif is assigned female at birth, but maybe* has higher levels of testosterone and is rumored* to have xy chromosomes. Whether or not this is true, she is being discriminated against for her perceived DSD. This is an intersex issue.

*based on the findings of an unsubstantiated corrupt test that honestly shouldn’t have been given in the first place

The thing is all three of these are true. Fully and completely true. However any truth here taken by itself will miss some of the picture. You need to put it all together for the full story. I’m a white trans woman in the US, so I’ll look at it through that lens, but you can honestly fit these pieces together in another order, that’s just my life experience so I can speak on it.

This would make the whole story:

Imane Khelif is a woman who won an Olympic boxing match. She is from Algeria, which means that; as far as the US white republican is concerned, she’s black. And due to centuries of institutional racism, black is seen as inherently masculine and violent. But they aren’t self reflective enough to realize that they’re being racist or even that that’s a racist belief. “Racism is bad and I’m not bad!” Why does everything have to be about race??” They’ll say. (Note: this is VERY SPECIFICALLY about the subconscious perception of black bodies as violent that like. My dad holds. Your aunt. White people who don’t understand their racism and don’t ACTIVELY and CONSCIOUSLY act on it)

Unsurprisingly, the same kind of person who has ingrained racist body standards are also violently anti-trans, and for now it’s still “ok” to hate transgender people. There is no “transphobia is bad and I’m not bad” here. In the states, republicans (and too many centrists and liberals) are in full on “these things are degenerate and need to be gone” mode. It’s in vogue, it’s what they’re reading about on twitter, it’s what their fave influencer is rage baiting about.

So they see a black woman, perceive her to be violent and masculine, THEN they hear that she may be intersex or she has high testosterone. Which means nothing to my dad or your aunt, but it sounds like what they’ve been mad about! My dad is more likely to think intersex is a new gender than know what Swyres Syndrome is. So this, in their racist perception, violent and masculine person is pretending to be a woman! Trans ideology woke mind virus save the women etc.

They’re using racism as an underlying force, aimed with intersex allegations, to attack trans people.

Or just as easily from a perspective I can’t speak on:

They’re using trans hatred as an underlying force, supported by intersex allegations, to attack WOC.

And:

Intersex identities are being used as a tool for hatred while being whole sale ignored in a discussion that directly affects them.

So where does that leave us? Well personally I think the intersection between these groups/identities/people is easy to see when scrolling through her tag. When one person is talking about race and the next post doesn’t even mention where she’s from, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

If we can’t take all of these points into consideration, and instead (like I’ve see in more than a few posts) claim one groups oppression to be “what’s actually happening” then you miss the whole picture of what’s happening to YOU. Without intersectional thinking, I missed the component of racism that is fueling this fire, and the intersex component that was the starter. How am I meant to put out a fire if I can’t even figure out if it’s grease or electrical? Im too busy burning to wonder how it’s gotten this far

[arcielee]

Ah, yes. Team Green. Featuring a repressed lesbian still reeling from the fallout of her complicated situationship. An evil grandfather who eventually will become jobless. A guard who doubles as a stepfather and a hit man. An alcoholic. A doomed prophetess. An overpowered anime villain and his geriatric nuclear warhead. And a fourth child who may or may not exist.

[blukiar]

For the sake of others

(I notice my rb answer doesn't show up on the og post, neither in the tags so I'm gonna make it a separate post for the sake of Anon and any other persons curious to know about the situation)

Now first and foremost - this post is NOT to address the situation itself as I HATE drama but I HATE being apart of it MORE. This is about an earlier situation that I think people should be aware of. Trust is key, and misinformation destroys that.

(For the nevermore situation I recommend reading this Red FIRST, then navigate to the others as there are a COUPLE responses from several different folks so Idk who to link. In the end it is up to you to decide who you support/who you believe is in the wrong. Personally, BOTH are in the wrong)

Now to the point of this post: I'm keeping the name in because it's not a personal acc, and the person behind it has announced stepping away from the fandom entirely. REGARDLESS DO NOT GO HARASSING THEM NO ONE DESERVES HARASSMENT!

Earlier today upon checking my dash I saw this and immediately got upset about it because this is unacceptable. On a normal day I'd just roll my eyes and scroll away from drama related posts but THIS one grind my gears so much that I HAD to confront OP on it. What happened next made me even more disappointed as this acc was literally the only nevermore content acc that I follow on tumblr...

About an hour after confrontation, I checked back to the post only to find that my comment was removed/hidden by OP as shown below

It's funny how they and a couple others are calling out how Red tries to silence folks speaking out on the situation by deleting comments and leaving out stuff etc, etc, YET they are no different...

All I asked is why they blatantly lied to Anon about the situation? Knowing FULLY well that's NOT what happened. The least you could have done was to direct Anon to RnF page/or to the accusers posts to read the response to the situation and have them formulate their OWN opinions and conclusions to it. But instead they chose lie to Anon and hide/remove my comment.

Now I get it, OP didn't have to answer me, they're NOT obligated to, they could have ignored me or even block me! They have the freedom to do so, who am I to get angry for that? YET they chose to silence me. The same thing they accuse Red of doing, for a simple question?? Wow...

Then OP proceeded to add "evidence" to their earlier summary that, mind you, DOES NOT support their earlier claim here. It's just screenshots of Red talking about the Crimson situation, you know, about the 1 single individual - OP's summary made it sound like it's the ENTIRE moderation team that are groomers and that Red allowed it

The point here is that OP lied and silenced me for calling them out on lying to someone who was unaware and genuinely trusted them to tell a truthful rundown of the situation

And honestly, I wish OP well, I hope they take the time to take a breath and reflect. I wish them a blessed day/night and I hope that Anon gets the truthful information they need cause this is just disappointing...

Again this post was made for the sake of those unaware of the situation and is just looking for a TRUSTWORTHY and a non bias source to go by. For that I think it's best to read Red's response first to get the gest of it then navigate to the others and make your own conclusions.

Thanks for Reading, and sorry for ruining your day with this nonsense.

[fangirlxwritesx67]

Just Like A Kiss

a follow up story to Texas Peach 1700 words, Jensen Ackles x Jared Padalecki Author's note at the end

***

Jared flinched.

At the last moment, before their lips met, he flinched and turned away.

Jensen knew he would, of course. Because you don't kiss your best friend and costar in front of a crowd of adoring fangirls. Because the joke was too close to the truth. 

In real life, it had all played out in a minute, but in Jensen's memory, the moments lingered, time slowing and stretching around the two of them.

"...same with a kiss," Jensen had answered an audience question, adding a little smirk as he pointed. Convention crowds ate up that swagger. 

"Prove it." Jared hadn't seemed to be paying attention, fidgeting with his fingers to demonstrate a taco crumbling. But he was completely focused, suddenly, as he turned to Jensen, their gazes locked together. Mischief glinted in Jared's eyes, sparkling in their green-gold-grey depths. His pupils were wide with a familiar look of adoration and desire.

Jared's heart must've been beating out of his chest because Jensen could feel his pulse quiver in the air between them, or maybe that was his own blood pounding through his veins. 

Emotion hit, flooding down a well-worn path in his mind. The longing for Jared was almost overwhelming, the pull to hold him, to have more than he had ever dared in public. All these years, and the feeling hadn't weakened, no less compelling for being familiar.

His eyes flicked down to Jared's mouth, pouted out in an exaggerated pucker. He wet his own lips, quick and shallow, thinking about Jared's tongue meeting his own, about all the places that mouth had been. Their bodies drew together, each of them leaning to the right, arms already lifting for an easy embrace. Jared's body he knew almost as well as his own, moving in sync without speaking.  

As the gap closed between them, their hands brushed against each other and Jensen felt the touch like a spark.Anger flared in his chest and his jaw clenched. Why couldn't he have what he wanted, have Jared and kiss him, whenever and wherever, not caring who saw or knew? 

Their eyes met again, and that's when Jared flinched. 

The noise of the crowd, clapping and cheering, rushed back in as Jared gave a sassy hair flip and turned, away from Jensen, back to the people watching. 

It should be me. I should be the one by your side, I should be the one that people see with you. You should be mine.

Jensen knew he couldn't reveal what he was feeling. He felt exposed, suddenly keenly aware of the gaze of so many eyes fixed on him, and cast around for a distraction. A wide easy smile and the fans moved right along from the missed kiss. 

Jensen hadn't realized he was holding his breath, and sucked in air as he settled back in his chair. He kept the smile pasted on his face as he adjusted his seating. From the corner of his eye, even as he played to the audience, he noticed Jared pass a hand over his face, a subtle gesture giving him time to gather himself. The way he shifted in his chair, leaning back and tangling his legs, was a sure sign to Jensen that he was retreating. 

Both of them knew the moment had left them vulnerable, their secret feelings just a little too easy to glimpse. 

I wish I could show the world how much I care for you. Jensen sighed. 

Instead they turned, shoulder to shoulder in wordless agreement, and they slipped back into the protection afforded by their public roles. The Handsome and Sunshine Show, Jensen had seen the tag on social media. It was a performance just as sure as any TV episode, but they had practice at it. The two of them were a good pair, he thought, as he let himself be carried along by the comforting rhythm of their stage interactions.

Jensen couldn't stop himself from returning to that moment in his mind, even as he and Jared completed their day of work at the convention. They had done this many times before, signed the autographs, walked through the photo ops, and the work came easily. He was able to focus on the people in front of him and almost – almost — forgot that Jared owed him a kiss. 

Afterwards, they went out to dinner with a few of the cast, Rob and Ruth, Rich, Alex, and others. They were old friends, and they knew the truth of Jensen and Jared's relationship. In this company, they could relax a little more. 

Still, even a private room at a restaurant could instantly turn public if they were spotted by a fan. The two of them kept their touches under the table, Jared running teasing long fingers up the inseam of Jensen's jeans until Jensen stopped him with a firm hand on his upper thigh. They laced their fingers together under the open placket of Jared's plaid shirt as they enjoyed their food and drinks.

More than once, Jensen found himself looking longingly at Jared's mouth as he laughed and talked, always the life of the party. Jared's heavy eyelids when he caught him staring left no doubt that he, too, was looking forward to the moment they would be alone together.

The close, cautious affection carried them through their goodbyes and into the elevator. There were no kisses behind closed doors, not when they could open on a new floor at any moment and anyone could see them. But Jensen couldn't stand to have any more distance between him and his boy. With a possessive hand on the back of his neck, he pulled Jared in close, ready to whisper in his ear. With Jared's hair tickling his cheek, he couldn't find any words to say, just held him like that as they breathed together.

When they reached their floor, Jensen shifted to an arm around Jared's shoulders as they exited the elevator. The two of them walked in silence, their steps in sync, to their shared suite.

Once inside, Jensen busied himself with the latch, the lock, the deadbolt, before turning to face Jared. 

He was waiting, a teasing grin on his face that turned to pouty lips, a blown kiss. 

"I'm gonna need you to finish what you started." Jensen heard the rough edge of desire undercut the direction in his own voice.  

Jared's eyes widened, flashed, and he leaned down eagerly. Their lips met, dry and gentle, for a long kiss. Every bit of it was familiar, Jared's head tilt, his little sigh, the pressure of their mouths, their bodies together. 

The second kiss was deeper, Jensen nudging at Jared's lips with his tongue, Jared parting them easily, welcoming him eagerly in. Jensen wrapped his arms tighter around Jared, one around his shoulders, the other around his waist, pulling him closer.

The second kiss turned into the third kiss without them ever breaking apart, and then shattered into countless more kisses. Jensen's lower hand slipped into Jared's plaid shirt, up under his t-shirt, until he could palm skin. His touch slid across the cut of his hip bone, fingers seeking that dip in the hollow of Jared's back, right above the curve of his peachy ass. 

"So hot," he murmured against Jared's lips, and he must've heard him, because he pulled back just enough that their eyes could meet. Jensen's hand had been resting on the back of Jared's neck and he moved with a caress to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the soft short hair along his jawline, up and over to the dimples visible through his beard. 

The two of them paused for a beat like that, forehead to forehead, arms wrapped around one another, chests rising and falling together. Jensen never got tired of being this close to his lover, looking up to see every sparkling color in his eyes, feeling every breath across his lips. The moment stretched, swelled, to include everything he had wanted in that second on stage earlier in this day, holding his world in his arms.

"Jared," the beloved name fell from his lips, ripe and heavy with desire. 

"Please," was all Jared said, but his wide lust-blown eyes, his flushed cheeks, his parted lips spoke volumes, the truth writ large across his handsome face. Jensen had seen glimpses, all day, but this was the first time they were alone for Jared to bare his response, the two of them stripping down to the truth between them. 

They had already had reunion sex the night before, clothes hastily thrown off in their eagerness to come together. They had slow sleepy bedtime sex, naked under the sheets before falling asleep in one another’s arms. And they had a moment in the shower this morning, no less good for being rushed.

This was something different. This was the connection that had sparked on stage, that had pulled thin, finally coming back together. Everything they couldn't show the public was laid bare. 

This time, they were stripping down to their very souls. The burden of keeping up appearances, of their public stories, fell to the wayside in the face of their truth. The long days apart, the lonely nights, melted away under their touches. 

With every touch, Jensen asked, Do you still want me just as much?

To every question, Jared answered, Yes.

The fragile bubble of their shared desire encompassed their entire world, no space for anything but the two of them. Much like the moment earlier, on stage, time became meaningless, measured in heartbeats rather than minutes. Only this time, instead of pulling away, Jared came to Jensen, unflinching in his intention, every kiss a promise fulfilled. 

Their caresses were weighted with the knowledge that life would pull them apart again soon, but for now, they could not hear the clock ticking down. For now, they only existed in this room, in this bed, together. Jensen heard only Jared's panting moans, his whispered words of love and need. 

Blood rushed in his ears and with every beat, his heart said, mine, mine, mine.

Jared answered back yours, yours, yours with every kiss. 

*** Author's Note: First off a huge thanks to @there-must-be-a-lock who jumped in to pre-read for me! Thanks for keeping friendship and fandom alive between us. I know it's been a while since I've written. I still have ideas that are waiting for stories. Thanks for reading, both in the past and now.