#AND THEN ESSENTIALLY FUCK THE MICROPHONE

[strangersynth]

"mike really pulled out a microphone to fight in the AV room i can't-" what did you want him to pull out a katana from under the table? bitch at least he pulled something

[sexlapis]

hi stella! so i remember rachel mcadams and ryan gosling winning “best kiss” at an award show bc of the notebook and when they go up stage they recreate that kiss ….. so what about actor toji and reader doing it???

OMG?? anon your mind?????????????????!!!!!!

this is the kiss btw !!!!

‘BEST KISS’

౨ৎ actor toji x actress/actor reader

kissing! kissing! kissing!

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

౨ৎ

the romance film you and toji starred in exceeded everyone’s already high expectations. it became the best performing romance film of the year and one of the most successful films of that same year, period.

but was anyone surprised? not really.

people loved you. people loved toji. people loved you and toji. people loved you and toji together, especially when you were both kissing and fucking in an intense, angsty, emotional-rollercoaster of a romance film.

the public all had their speculations and assumptions about whether you and toji were really together or not, but tonight, after this award show? this very moment erased any doubts in their minds.

it was time to announce the nominees for the (only) category you and toji were nominated for, ‘Best Kiss’.

you turn around and look at toji who is seated behind you and grin toothily at him, giving small claps. he smirks, giving you a sleazy wink.

when the exaggerated, deep voice booms from the speakers, announcing you and toji as nominees and displaying the kiss scene on the vast plasma screen, the crowd grows crazy, chaotic almost - they’re screaming like they’re fucking dying. and that’s when you and toji both know you’ve got this in the bag.

you almost feel bad for the other nominees and at how the crowd essentially goes quiet at their scenes. oh well.

shoko and gojo are there to announce the winners.

“and the ‘best kiss’ goes to…” shoko trails off, building anticipation as gojo opens the card that states the award winner.

“ha! someone’s that’s gonna be cleaning up tonight.” gojo laughs “..toji fushiguro and _____!”

the audience began to shriek before they even got through toji’s whole name.

you and toji look at each other and smile, knowingly. knowing the shit you were both about to cause with what you’re about to do.

standing up languidly, toji places a hand on your back as you two stroll right up to the stage, the crowd deafening you at this point.

the steps lead to a double path in the stage and you and toji part ways temporarily, walking around to be opposite each other.

you unbutton your cardigan and let it drop to the floor, hearing whistles and cheers in the pools of crowds next to you, reaching their hands out and screaming your name.

toji begins fake stretching, jumping up and down like he is about to exercise and you giggle at his antics before making a serious face, gazing at him in mock seduction.

he begins striding towards you across the length of the stage, making a ‘come here’ with a long, thick fingers. and you’re like a magnet, rushing towards him, the audience rising in volume as you two grow closer together.

and then you’re jumping up on him, wrapping your legs around his waist as his roughly smashes his lips onto yours and shoves his tongue into your mouth. you accept it, gleeful with his actions, knowing that people will not stop talking about this moment for weeks.

your hands are tugging at his hair and his large hands cup your ass as you both make the fuck out in front of sea of people, who are now louder than you even thought was possible.

toji bites your bottom lip, sucking gently, before finally pulling away from a kiss that lasted what felt like an eternity.

realising what has just transpired, even though you both planned this, you feel embarrassed. you cover you hot face as toji carried you to the podium, your ears ringing from the nonstop echo of the crowds cheers, jeers, whistles and screams.

toji sets you down on your feet and urges you to speak in the microphone. you huff and puff, not really wanting to talk after that…stunt you just pulled.

“toji!” you growl. “get up here!”

“alright, alright..” toji sighs, picking up the trophy of popcorn and holding it up. “i would just like to say…that it was my pleasure.”

his words make the fans go insane again, some members demanding an encore of that steamy kiss.

sighing, you take you trophy and toji places a sweet kiss on your temple. you both walk away side by side, leaving the chaos of the crowd behind as you go to walk backstage. toji reaches down and swings your fallen cardigan over his shoulder, smiling, clearly smug and satisfied with himself.

he looks down at you and you blink up at him, biting the inside of your cheek. you take in his tight, black top, shamelessly staring at his pecs and thick neck as you walk.

toji notices. and when you look him in the eye again, he winks.

a/n: anon what if i diedddd!!!!😩😩😩😩

[wroetominter]

Three Peaks - George Clarke

Warnings: none, some swearing

Thank you for the request! I have some serious writers block right now so bear with as the time between posts may be a little longer. I appreciate you!

———

"I don't know how I got roped into this one" I adjusted the microphone I was securing to Chris' t-shirt. He chuckled, patting my shoulder as I finished.

"Well, there aren't many of you fit enough to actually climb three mountains so it was quite the easy choice." Chris said. I sighed, shaking my head. Mentally slapping myself for telling Chris casually that I enjoyed a good hike.

Chris had the thought for a video that honestly, I couldn't even make fun of. It was a really well thought out idea. A group of his friends and crew tackling the three peaks challenge. Which is essentially just climbing three mountains in 24 hours. Seems damn near impossible, especially considering the group he had.

I had been part of Chris' camera crew for almost a year now, and I felt like I had really found a good group of friends in this job. Outside of filming I had been hanging out with Chris and his core group frequently. Many nights spent out at different pubs, or simply hanging out at their flat.

"Let's get going shall we?" Chris began to lead the group. I stuck towards the middle, filming the boys who had taken the lead.

Reev, Chris, and George led the pack as we began the ascent to the top of our first mountain.

"I can already tell this is going to be fucking awful." I heard from behind me. I turned my head to see Arthur Hill beginning the days complaints.

"George you owe me a tenner!" Television shouted from beside him.

"What?" I asked in confusion.

"I placed a bet that Hill would be the first to complain." Television explained. I threw my head back laughing, panning the camera to catch Hills reaction. He deadpanned and just stared at the camera.

"Don't worry Arthur, I'm not looking forward to this either."

Each boy had been given their own special challenge for the video, and I was really enjoying watching Reev attempt to put rocks in the boys shoes.

"What's your challenge?" I asked Chris as I caught up to him.

"I need to get someone to believe a fake fact about each mountain." He whispered to the camera.

"That feels alarmingly easy considering the group we're with." I said. He agreed and told me he was already scheming up his first lie to tell Arthur.

We had been climbing for close to two hours by this point, and we were nearing the peak.

"Enjoying yourself love?" George asked me as he took a seat on the rock next to me.

"It's not nearly as bad as I expected it to be, I'll be honest." I snacked on the apple slices I packed, offering one out to George.

We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the others as they bantered back and forth with each other.

I sat and admired George as he laughed, not being able to help myself from laughing along. He had an infectious laugh. Chris caught me staring at George and raised an eyebrow at me. He was the only one of the group who knew I had somewhat of a crush on George. I had unfortunately admitted it to him accidentally after one drink too many during a pub crawl.

We had all gotten up again to keep our pace going up the mountain. The terrain upwards wasn't too bad. The most annoying part by far was having to continue to film while simultaneously making sure I didn't fall down.

"I never thought this would end!" Arthur Hill screamed as we reached the peak.

"I'm sure you're used to hearing that in bed." Harry joked with him patting him on the back.

We all shared a laugh and took in the nice view. It wasn't long before we realized that 'huh, guess we just go down now' and begin to descend the mountain.

I trailed behind Chris and ArthurTV, catching some of their conversation as Chris tried to convince Arthur that some celebrity had been the first person to complete this challenge. I had to actively hold in a giggle as I knew Chris was having him on with his challenge.

During my distracted state, I felt myself slide to the side as my foot hit a loose rock that sent me falling down. Instinctively deciding to protect my camera, I took the full brunt of the fall to my hip and legs.

"Shit, are you alright?" George asked jogging to catch up to me.

Catching my breath after scaring myself with the fall, I nodded towards him. I turned my camera off and stuck it in its carrying bag beside me, examining my ankle.

It was fairly scraped up, and was slightly throbbing. Nothing that felt it would be too crazy but painful nonetheless.

A few of the others called out to see if I was okay. I gave them a thumbs up.

"I'll stay with her and help her down, you guys can go ahead we'll just be a few minutes." George called back to them.

"Does it hurt?" He asked me, grazing his fingertips over my ankle to assess.

"Not a ton, I think I was more shocked by the fall than anything. I'll be fine George, thank you for staying behind with me." I smiled at him, noting his features contorted with uncertainty at my words.

He stood up, holding his hands out for me to help me up. I happily grabbed them and put pressure on my ankle, feeling a tinge of pain but it was bearable.

I stood upright, George still holding onto my hands to make sure I was steady. He never took his eyes off of mine, scanning my face for any sign of pain.

"I'm good George, I promise." He smiled at me, squeezing my hands.

"I think it's time to reveal my challenge to you." His words took me by surprise as I had no idea where this topic had come from.

He let go of my hands, fishing around in his pocket and pulling out a cue card similar to the other boys. He unfolded it and turned it towards me.

In small, easily recognizable handwriting I read off 'tell Y/n you have feelings for her you dumb twat'. Chris. Of course Chris would write that.

I looked back up to him, his face flushed from either embarrassment or anxiety, I couldn't tell.

"I assume what's written there is true?" I asked George, looking to him for confirmation. He nodded, sliding the paper back into his pocket.

We both stood there a little awkwardly for a moment, neither of us being particularly good at the whole admitting feelings thing.

"Your feelings are mutual." I said, cutting the silence. His eyes widened at me, a smile breaking on his features.

He put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer for a hug.

"How about we talk more about this over dinner once we’re done with the next two mountains?” He propositioned.

I groaned, “I forgot we still have two fucking mountains to go.” He laughed as I pouted.

He slid his hand up to my cheek, bringing his face closer to mine and connecting our lips in a short, sweet kiss.

“This should give you something to look forward to” he said as he pulled away. It was my turn for my cheeks to turn pink. Despite how tired and sweaty we already were, he still looked absolutely perfect.

“I suppose I can make it through as long as you promise not to let me fall again.” He laughed.

“I’ll do my best.”

We walked downwards, eventually catching up with the others who had stopped for a water break.

“Finally you two made it! Began to think you two were shacking up up there!” ArthurTV exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes at him, laughing.

“Not quite shacking up, but my challenge is complete.” George bragged, Chris’ head shot towards us at these words.

“No way.” He said, looking to me for confirmation.

“Yes way” I replied, George put his arm over my shoulder once again and we watched as the mental cogs turned in the other boys heads.

“Oh my god he finally got the balls to tell her!” Arthur Hill screamed, jumping around like a fangirl.

I looked to George who just shook his head in embarrassment. “Did everyone know except me?” I asked only loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I knew then that the next two mountains would likely be sex jokes and embarrassing stories, and I was weirdly looking forward to it.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Getting through your second presentation feels like a battle of wits against your own body. Then after weeks of barely being able to stomach anything, you are presented with the most enticing dinner. But it's the food that's alluring, not your dinner mate, and Bradley has a few things to say about the mess you get yourself caught up in.

Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff, phone sex, masturbation

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You slept like a lovesick log after your long drive back to the hotel from the cemetery. Exhausted from throwing up in the shrubs, you curled up in bed and watched the video you took for your son or daughter. You had recorded yourself reading both headstones and having a little conversation with your in-laws about the baby. It was just meant to be something you and Bradley could watch one day with the nugget, but it brought a smile to your face. 

You were decidedly no longer smiling when you woke up on Wednesday and had to race to the toilet. "Why is this happening again?" you asked the bath mat as you curled up in a ball. You had another, longer presentation to give. You had admirals to chat with. You had a whole lot to get done today. You didn't have time for this right now.

Even brushing your teeth was a chore. Changing into your uniform was an issue. At least your pants felt a little looser today. You honestly could not keep up with the way your body was bloated half the time and normal the rest of the time. 

You realized your makeup was pretty much the only thing holding your life together at the moment as you swiped on some mascara. Then there was a knock at your door, and it felt like you were doing the same thing all over again today, because essentially you were. You and Cat had to struggle with the bin of equipment. You had to fight to stay awake in the rental car. The nausea was turning  your life into a game of sheer determination to keep the bagel that you ate from coming back up. 

"Are you okay?" Cat asked you a few minutes before the presentation was about to start. 

"Of course," you told her in what you hoped was a reassuring tone. "Why wouldn't I be?" You shrugged and smiled serenely at her. 

"Because you're sweating bullets. And you've been pacing around the hallway."

You cleared your throat and insisted, "It's just really hot in here."

"It's not," she replied. "Please. I'm begging you. Just keep it together for another ninety minutes, okay? After that, you can do anything you want. Hell, I'll do anything you want me to do. But we need to get through this presentation." 

Her voice sounded panicked, and now you were looking around the hallway for a garbage can. But it was too late. The two of you were being called into the presentation room. Commander Patterson and Admiral Klein were sitting in the front row smiling at you. Shit, more admirals were here today. Oh fuck, all of these people wanted to hear your extended presentaion. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck, past your shoulder blades and along your spine. You wanted Bradley. You wanted Bradley to hold you and let you throw up everywhere and tell you that you were still pretty and that he loved you even if you cried on the toilet and ate crackers while you lay on the floor. 

Tears burned your eyes, and Cat looked like she was going to scream. Pull it together. Ignore the sensation. Clip the microphone onto your shirt. Start talking. 

"Good afternoon. Lieutenant Coleman and I are back to expound upon our research presentation from Monday which covered communications engineering at Top Gun. You can find a copy of our slides in the information packet in front of you. Please hold your questions until we pause for a break. Let's get started."

--------------------------

Bradley really wasn't doing well without you at home. He was barely eating anything besides cereal and sandwiches, and he was going to bed hungry at night. The only fun he'd been having was slowly filling up that pink and blue notebook with his musings for the little nugget.

He was having a hard time sleeping, and he didn't like how quiet the house was. Even Tramp kept looking for you, occasionally running to the front door and whimpering. "We'll see her on Friday," he told the dog as he had potato chips and coffee for breakfast on Wednesday morning. "Two more days of this bullshit." 

When he got home from work on Tuesday, he broke down in tears as he looked at the photos you sent him from the cemetery. You even took a video where you were talking to him and the nugget and his parents. He still couldn't believe you took the time to drive there and make it so special for him. After he finished crying, he made his way back up to the attic where he took the half wall down to the studs. Then he realized that he really needed to call some contractors before you came home and saw the mess he made. 

While he drove to work in the red Bronco, he left messages, hoping to get some estimates in the next week or so. One thing that he'd been slowly coming to terms with was the fact that you didn't need him to take care of you by paying for everything. Both of your incomes were going toward the mortgage payments and all the necessities. You'd both been saving money for the future, and he figured the future had arrived since there was a baby on the way. 

When he parked in the garage on base, he noticed he had some new texts from you.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I miss you. I'm struggling today. I think the nugget hates me. I'll call you later after my presentation and all of this other shit is over. 

He wanted to text you back, but he didn't want to be a distraction, so he tucked his phone into his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. He had been reading every pregnancy article online that he could find, but none of the tricks he saw were helping you with the nausea. You were probably just going to have to wait it out. He would be ready to rub your shoulders and put a cool washcloth on the back of your neck when you got home.

Bradley walked the long way around to the classrooms since he was early and didn't need to stop in the locker room to change. When he passed the stairwell that would have taken him up to your office and the engineering labs, he swore he heard Bob's voice. He paused, and he definitely heard Bob's laugh. When the door to the stairs opened, he heard Bob say, "We can always find out later tonight if you want to invite me to your room again." And then there was a very familiar, feminine laugh before Bob appeared ten feet ahead of him.

He stared at Bob, and Bob stared back as the door closed, leaving the two of them alone. Bradley thought back to the way Bob and Maria were looking a little cozy at brunch last Sunday. This was interesting.

"Hey, Bob," Bradley said with a grin. "How are you enjoying your new apartment with Maria?"

His cheeks immediately flushed pink, and Bradley bit his lip to keep quiet as Bob started stuttering. Frankly, he was proud of his friend for sounding so much more self assured a few seconds ago when he was tucked inside the stairwell with Maria. "I-I d-don't know... are y-you... I d-din't think that..."

Bradley let him flounder through a few more partial sentences before he said, "If you're hooking up with Maria Wilson, then good for you, man. Well done."

Bob cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses and ran his hand along the back of his neck. "Thanks," he muttered as he stared at the floor. 

"You want me to keep this information to myself?"

Bob's blue eyes went wide as they met Bradley's. "Please." He swallowed hard. "I don't think she wants anyone else to know." His voice was just a whisper as he said, "I'm sure she'd be embarrassed if people found out."

Then he turned and left Bradley standing there alone. He'd been in that position before with you. Before you made things official. And he had been miserable. "Poor Bob," he muttered as he followed him at a distance. The best case scenario would be if Maria confided in you when you got back from Annapolis. Bradley would have to be cool about you going to brunch on Sunday even though he already wanted you and the baby all to himself again all weekend.

-----------------------

You made it. Somehow you got through the full hour and a half. You nailed your parts, and so did Cat. You and she answered questions for at least an additional thirty minutes, and now she was packing up the equipment while you sent a quick text to Bickel. 

"Your research is very compelling, Lieutenant Commander."

You looked up into the eyes of Commander Patterson, and he smiled warmly at you. Unfortunately, the only thing you could really think about was the way you'd been picturing Bradley's cock the last time you talked to him. At the moment, you were so fucking horny, you felt like rubbing yourself against the wall and crying until you got some relief.

"Thank you, sir," you managed to say while you tried to focus on his face and his words. "It has really become a passion project, trying to keep actual aviators in the air versus the drone agenda. Real people making real decisions based on their surroundings and the immediate threats they are facing will always win out against a laboratory manufactured software protocol."

"I couldn't agree more." He took a step closer and said, "And the way you presented your findings made it so clear that you're eager for others to understand how important that is as well."

"Absolutely," you told him with a smile of your own. "And the funding for communications research is so important." 

You were probably going to have to go to the cocktail hour tonight just to get your face out there since you skipped the previous one to drive to Virginia. But you were almost instantly saved from having to do that as Commander Patterson said, "I'm planning on having dinner this evening with a few of the admirals if you'd like to join us. Cocktail attire. Overpriced steaks. You know, the usual." 

His slight eye roll had you laughing and agreeing immediately. That sounded a lot better than trying to ditch champagne flutes all night. You'd still be able to chat with some superiors, and right now, you were actually hungry. "That sounds great. I'll see if Lieutenant Coleman can join as well."

With that, his smile wavered a bit, but he told you the name of the restaurant, and you promised to be there at seven o'clock. Cat had all the equipment packed up, and she was ready for you to help her carry the bin. "Hey, you want to come eat an overpriced steak later? With Commander Patterson and some others?" you asked as you tried your best to lift with your legs.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I already agreed to some stupid happy hour with a handful of admirals, but I love overpriced food when you don't have to pay for it."

You laughed and said, "That's probably better. We can divide and conquer this way. Bickel will like that."

As the two of you hoisted the bin into the rental car, Cat smiled and said, "You know what else he'll like? The fact that we nailed the presentation again today. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Don't do it again," you told her with a smirk. Of course then you promptly started falling asleep while she drove back to the hotel, and when you got to your room, you passed out in bed until it was time to get ready for dinner. 

It was only three o'clock for Bradley, and even though you wanted to call him, you decided to wait a little longer. You inhaled a pack of peanut butter crackers while your stomach growled loudly. "What is with you today?" you asked the baby. "You're finally hungry? Or are you going to make me barf again?" You got a loud rumble in response. "I know you like Daddy better, and we'll be home in two days. Relax."

As you redid your makeup, you started thinking about Bradley. And then you thought about how delicious he smelled right after he finished a workout. And then you thought about how nice and big his cock is. And then you thought about all the sounds he makes and the way me moans your name when his cock is inside you.

"Oh hell," you whined, pressing your thighs together. You needed to get some relief with your toys until you could get back home, but you didn't have time for that right now. The combination of being so hungry and so horny was almost too much to handle, and you ended up calling Bradley on the short drive to the restaurant. It was barely four there, so you were surprised when he answered. 

"Hey, Sweetheart."

Two words. He said two fucking words, and you were moaning and having a hard time focusing to drive. "Roo. Oh my god."

"What's wrong?" he snapped immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you gasped, parking the car and squeezing the steering wheel. "I'm just so horny. And Commander Patterson asked me out to dinner, and I seriously need to get fucked, Bradley. Like you have no idea how bad it is right now."

You could hear him mutter something, and then you thought you heard Jake's voice before Bradley quietly said, "Baby Girl, I'll fuck the absolute shit out of you all weekend. In fact, I can't wait to do that. I'll take care of everything you need."

"Daddy," you moaned, realizing you should have masturbated instead of taking that nap.

"But please tell me who the fuck Commander Patterson is. All I know is that you said he's that guy who asked if Top Gun aviation is the right fit for you?" Another moan escaped your lips as you thought about being a tight fit for your husband. "Yeah, you sound wrecked, Sweetheart," he crooned in that raspy voice. "I don't think you should go to dinner with some guy I don't know. I don't care what his rank is.

You sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not just with him. Some admirals are coming too. I need to meet the admirals, Bradley. And I'm already at the restaurant." When you looked further up the block, you saw Patterson heading inside.

Bradley made a frustrated sound. "Text me when you can? And call me when you're leaving later?"

"I will," you promised as your stomach growled. You were so excited that the nugget seemed to want to eat this steak, you almost hung up before you said, "I love you."

You straightened out your black cocktail dress as you practically ran down the sidewalk in your high heels which you rarely ever wore except in your bedroom with your husband. The delicious smells from the restaurant were wafting out onto the sidewalk, and you were going to cry if there wasn't some bread or something already waiting on the table. 

"There you are, Lieutenant Commander." 

Patterson was waiting inside the entryway where at least the sound of the air conditioner blasting and the conversation around you was blocking out your growling stomach. He was smiling as his hand found the small of your back. "Our table is ready. We can go right there." 

When he applied some pressure with his hand, you lurched forward. Perhaps he was just trying to help you navigate through the crowd, but he could keep his hands to himself. He must have known you were married. You decided to make a show of pointing out some hideous artwork with your left hand, practically shoving your rings in his face. "That's a lovely painting, Commander," you told him, but he just smiled and nodded at you before pulling out a chair at a table set for four.

"Please, call me Derek," he told you as he sank down into the seat across from you, and then he started using your first name without permission. The one blessing was the fact that there was an enormous basket of bread sitting right in the middle of the table along with a variety of spreads and dips. 

You moaned softly and had to bite your lip as you reached for a soft looking roll and the chive butter. Derek was staring at you with parted lips and wide pupils. Had he never seen a woman eat before? Had you ever been this hungry before? You licked your lips as you spread some of the butter onto the roll, and then you took a bite and moaned again. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

After weeks of feeling miserable, you finally knew you could stomach this meal right now. You were still so turned on, and yet your exhaustion was bone deep at this point, but the bread was like a lifeline to normalcy, and you were grabbing onto it. 

Derek cleared his throat as he watched you take those first few sumptuous bites. "I've got to know," he said smoothly, "exactly what would lure you back to Annapolis for good?"

You popped the rest of the roll between your lips and chewed it up before you said, "Nothing."

"There would have to be something. Better research facilities? Your own lab? Both of your degrees and your work are so impressive, you must know there would be endless possibilities for you here."

You were shocked. Running your own lab was your dream. The idea of being in charge of a research team made your skin prickle with desire. You hoped that could be a possibility someday, but you weren't even thirty-five yet. You figured maybe ten years from now when Bickel was getting ready to retire, you'd be able to take his place. 

"My own lab?"

Derek smiled, all white teeth and handsome expression, and then the waitress arrived. You wanted to jump out of your seat and hug her when she asked if you'd like to order any appetizers.

"Do you know when the others will be here?" you asked Derek. "Should we wait to order?"

He shook his head vaguely. "They'll be late. We can order. Get whatever you want."

You almost laughed giddily as you ordered three appetizers and then a steak dinner complete with garlic mashed potatoes and two vegetables. "We can share the appetizers," you said when he looked at you in surprise, even though you didn't want to. You placed your hand on your belly, trying to subtly thank the baby for cooperating right now. 

When the waitress finished taking his order and then departed, you asked, "Which admirals are joining us?"

"Hmm? Oh... uh, Rivera and Silverman."

You were not familiar with either of them which made you panic slightly. You should have done more research on who was attending each of the lectures. Why hadn't you done that? Oh, right... because you were too busy throwing up. The bread basket called to you, and before you knew it, you'd eaten more than half while Derek droned on about how amazing you'd be running your own lab. He didn't even know you, which made this more annoying than anything else, but your stomach was holding up spectacularly, so you could overlook it. You could have kissed the waitress when she came back with the appetizers.

"So, do you live alone?" he asked as you dipped two mozzarella sticks into some marinara sauce. You paused before shoving them into your mouth so you could chuckle. 

"No. I live with my husband and our dog." Then the fried cheese hit your tongue, and it was like you were living in a world of color after weeks in black and white. Your stomach gurgled pleasantly, finally accepting food once again. Tears of joy stung at your eyes as you took a forkful of crispy brussels sprouts and a potato skin.

Derek laughed and asked how old you were, but your mouth was full, so he said, "Let's just say, my career in Annapolis outlived my bad marriage. And that's been the case for many, many officers."

You swallowed the potato like it was a lead weight. That had definitely been the case for Cat, unfortunately. And you'd heard a lot of stories, sure, especially when you were at the Naval Academy. And perhaps that was part of the reason you fought against the mere idea of being with Bradley at first. One officer in a relationship with a civilian was bad enough, but two officers trying to make it happen together usually spelled disaster.

But you felt stronger with Bradley. The two of you worked hard to get through your struggles and end up in a better place. You and he were going to be parents, for fuck's sake. 

"Just sharing my two cents with you," Derek added, still smiling. "You're young, and you haven't lived it yet, but I can tell you that you'll go farther here than in San Diego. Especially if you're already open to the idea of having more."

You wanted to check the time on your phone; you must have been sitting here for over half an hour by now. The other two chairs were still empty. Derek was starting to get under your skin. 

"I'm open to the idea of pursuing my career at Top Gun along with my husband."

"He's an officer as well?" Derek asked with a laugh. "I'm sure he's having a great week back in San Diego without you."

You felt heat flame up your neck and into your cheeks as your steak dinners arrived. "Yes, he's an officer. He's a Top Gun aviator."

"He deploys?" Derek asked in disbelief before laughing harder. "You should make the move back to the east coast now, before he ruins your life. If he hasn't already."

He had gone from complimenting you to trying to humiliate you in a matter of minutes. You'd been blinded by the glorious meal, but the truth hit you square in the chest. As he picked up his fork and steak knife, you asked, "Why did you lie to me about two admirals coming? Do Rivera and Silverman even exist?"

Somehow his smile was still persistent as he said, "Sure, they exist. They went to the cocktail reception on base." You watched the knife sink into his steak as he added, "You're gorgeous. I wanted to get you alone. Let you know how much better things could be. Offer to set you up for a one-on-one meeting with Admiral Jennings tomorrow if you come home with me tonight. It's on the table if you want it."

In one quick movement, you snatched his plate away from him with the fork still stuck in the steak. "Okay, well fuck you, Derek," you snarled, standing up and waving for the waitress. "You're disgusting and delusional if you thought I would even consider going home with you."

"Can I get you anything?" the waitress asked cautiously, and you realized you were causing a bit of a scene now in the crowded restaurant. 

"Yes. I need boxes. Like a whole bunch of takeout boxes," you told her. "I'm taking all of this food with me."

"Right," the waitress replied, her gaze drifting to Derek who looked very unamused. 

"I'm taking his meal, too," you snapped. "Hurry up with the boxes."

She scurried away as you piled all of the food onto one plate and said, "You're so fucking stupid, Derek. I already have Admiral Jennings' phone number. I met her last year. I told her to her face that I'm staying in San Diego."

"Well then you're making a bad choice," he told you.

Then the waitress set down some takeout containers while you practically tossed the empty plate back at Derek. You scraped as much of the food into the first box as would fit before moving to the second one. "He's paying for dinner," you told the waitress. "And I'm taking one fork and one steak knife with me. He'll pay for those as well." You shoved the rest of the bread into the last box and then stacked them all up before meeting Derek's eyes. "You just ruined the first meal I've been able to stomach in weeks, asshole. And my husband is a nice man. Very sweet. Treats people with respect. But if he were here right now, you'd have a bloody face and some broken ribs." 

You picked up the boxes, grabbed the utensils, and made your way toward the exit. You went straight for your rental car and climbed inside before cranking the engine. Then you took a massive bite of garlic mashed potatoes before cutting off a piece of Derek's steak while you called your husband. 

-------------------------

Bradley was working out in the garage when your ringtone cut across the playlist you made for him. He practically dropped his barbell to the cement floor to get his phone from where it was sitting on the tool chest. "Sweetheart. I wasn't expecting to hear from you quite yet. Didn't we just get off the phone?" he asked with a smile as he ran his forearm along his sweaty face. "Not that I mind one bit." He was about to ask if you were done with dinner, but then he realized that you were crying. The sweat on his skin turned ice cold as he quickly asked, "What's wrong?"

"Roo," you wailed, and he started looking around the garage as if there was something out here that would help both of you calm down. "He ruined my fucking dinner!" you sobbed.

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he paced the length of the garage, running his fingers through his damp hair. "Who ruined it?"

"Commander Patterson."

Bradley honestly could not fathom how that guy had ruined your dinner. All he knew was that you told him you were horny as hell when you got to the restaurant, and that he didn't trust guys he didn't know around you. Most men were disgusting, and you were lovely and also pregnant with his child.

"Can you explain what happened so I can understand?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Yeah," you sniffed, and he heard a car engine start up in the background. "The nugget and I were both really enjoying the food. Like really enjoying it, Bradley. You know how I've been, and this was delectable and exactly what we both wanted. Like it was so good, if you'd been there with me looking super sexy, I would have probably had an orgasm in the middle of the damn restaurant."

Bradley swallowed hard as he stood in the garage, wondering where the hell this was going. "I understand. You haven't been able to eat much, so that must have felt amazing. Now can you tell me what's wrong?"

"He ruined it!" you replied loudly. "He lied to me! There were no admirals planning on joining us. He tricked me into meeting him there, and then he gave me fake compliments and accolades about my work. He told me that I could get ahead with a career in Annapolis if I slept with him, all because he wanted to fuck me!"

Bradley almost dropped his phone. "Did he touch you?" he growled, switching to speaker phone as he rushed through the backyard toward the house and looked for flights to Maryland at the same time. "Did he fucking touch you?!"

"No!" you practically shrieked. "No, he didn't touch me! You think I'd let him get anywhere near me after he ruined my dinner?"

"Where are you now?" he demanded. "And what's this Commander fucking Patterson's first name?" 

Bradley was seeing red as he walked inside and slammed the sliding glass door behind him, and Tramp ran whimpering into the spare room. The earliest he could get out of San Diego on an eastbound flight was a red eye that left at 9:30, and that was nearly four hours from now.

"I'm not telling you his name," you said softly with a little sniff at the end. "I'm afraid you'll strangle him."

Frankly, if Bradley got his hands on the asshole, he'd probably wish all he got was strangled to death. "Where are you now?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice calmer.

"In my rental car."

"Alone?

"Yes!"

"Good," he replied as he clenched and unclenched his fist and headed for the shower. "Go back to your hotel room, and text me the address. I'll stay on the phone with you until you get there, and then I'll be out on a red eye that lands in Annapolis at 5:55 tomorrow morning local time. And then you'll tell me his first name, and I'll beat the shit out of him for ruining your dinner and acting like my wife is his for the taking."

"Bradley," you said firmly. "I do not need you to come out here. I already feel better now that I told you about it."

"Well, I sure as fucking hell don't," he grunted, peeling off his sweaty clothes in the bathroom. "Does he know which hotel you're staying at? And where the hell is Cat?"

You groaned and said, "No, he doesn't know. And Cat went to the actual cocktail reception with the actual admirals. I seriously hate Commander Patterson. But I did steal his dinner, so that's making me feel a little bit better."

His thumb was hovering over his phone screen, ready to purchase a seat on this flight. "Wait, you stole his dinner?"

"Yes. I took it. When I tell you the food was that good, Bradley, I am not joking. I housed most of the appetizers and the bread basket, and then I took his plate before he even got a bite of his porterhouse. I dumped all of the food into takeout boxes, took some silverware, told the waitress he'd pay for everything, and then I left."

Bradley burst into laughter in spite of himself. He could actually picture it so clearly. The haughty expression on your face. Your biting wit once you figured out what was going on. The way you must have looked dumping the steaks into the containers. "You're a damn force to be reckoned with, Baby Girl. Are you driving back to the hotel with all the food?"

"Yeah. I mean I did eat a few bites when I first got back in the car, because the baby was demanding it, but I'm absolutely going to eat the rest in my room. Fuck that guy. He doesn't even deserve his overpriced steak. It's mine now."

Bradley cradled his forehead in his hand and laughed. "Do you really not need me to come out there?"

He heard you take a deep breath before you said, "I miss you a lot, but I really do not need you to come out, okay? The nugget and I are fine now, ruined dinner aside."

"Alright," he murmured. "If you change your mind, you have two hours to let me know, and I'll be knocking on your door by 7 in the morning."

You moaned and whispered, "God, that does sound good. I'm back at the hotel. Heading up to my room now. Any chance you feel like having phone sex before I eat my two steaks and roughly four pounds of potatoes?"

"Fuck," he grunted, his cock already getting hard as he looked down at himself. "Yeah. A hundred percent. Let me just get in the shower here."

"Okay, Daddy," you muttered, and Bradley was practically tripping over himself as he started up the spray of water. Once you were safely inside your room, you told him, "I'm ready when you are."

-------------------------

You got off twice to your vibrator and your husband's sexy voice. It was so easy to imagine him in the shower with the sound of the water in the background. You could picture the steam snaking around his body while he held his thick cock in his hand. You could practically taste his skin and smell the body wash he was definitely using as lube. 

"That's my sweet girl," he crooned as you started to peak for the second time. "When I get you home on Friday, my mouth is going to be all over that pussy. I miss you so much. I want my wife and my baby with me."

"Bradley," you whined, legs bent and shaking as you got closer. "I need you to fuck me. I'm so goddamn horny for you!"

He grunted right into the phone and said, "Keep it up, and I'll break your new car at the airport, too."

And then you came. Hard. Your chest was sweaty. Your back was arching off the bed. The vibrator rolled out of your grasp, and you stroked yourself with your fingers and whispered his name over and over. 

"I'm about to come," Bradley moaned. And you could hear the exact second he was probably making a white mess all over the tile wall. You imagined it on your belly instead. 

You just wanted to go home, and when your back finally settled against the bedding you said, "I need you to promise to fuck me at least twenty times between Friday night and Monday morning."

"Make it thirty, Sweetheart," he crooned as he panted. "At least. I fucking need it, too."

You turned your head to the side where a photo of him was still pulled up on your phone. "Sounds perfect. Don't forget, I'm having dinner with my mom and dad tomorrow, so please FaceTime when you're walking out of work if you can."

"For the love of all things holy, please don't talk about your parents when I'm still holding my cock."

You giggled, and then he laughed. "I won't do it again," you promised as you sat up in bed, eyeing the takeout containers on the desk. "I love you, Roo. I'm going to eat Derek Patteron's steak, take a shower, and then pass out."

"I love you too, Baby Girl. Can you put your phone down by your belly?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing at how sweet this man was.

"And I love you, too, my little nugget. Be nice to Mommy."

---------------------------

BG is all over the place... Roo probably has whiplash. Derek should be punished for ruining that meal for her and the baby. Just a few chapters left, and we'll have another series for them in the books! Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 34

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[isaacswhy]

professional

isaacwhy x gn!reader (sfw) summary: what it's like to date isaacwhy as a content creator/streamer + moving in to tgc's austin house requested?: no a/n: this is essentially a really long drabble but im calling it a fic

It might be embarrassing to admit to people, but you first met Isaac on a discord server. He was hosting one of this discord events with a bunch of different YouTubers and you got an invite from a friend that was also going to be in it. You didn't win by any means, but you did make enough of an impact to see a friend request from Isaac in your inbox after it was over.

To your surprise, he messaged first. Your conversations were casual, discussing the project you were in and his future ideas. You shared your own video and stream ideas to him, getting his input on everything. Even if your content wasn't the exact same, your eye for content creation seemed quite similar.

Maybe it was because of quarantine, but the two of you were messaging all day. You'd get a message from him around noon, and you'd message periodically throughout the day until it was almost three in the morning and you could hardly keep your eyes open.

Then the calls. You'd call each other on discord, chat a bit, but mostly you'd just chill and work on videos. Things would get quiet because you were both focused on editing, but it was nice having his company. Once the two of you would agree that you'd worked long enough, you'd hop on a game together. Sometimes, his friends would play with you guys, but you loved the nights it was just you two.

When Isaac would stream with his friends, you were often there. You got to know his friends, and they were nice. You were slowly getting in on the inside jokes, hanging out with them on group calls once or twice a week, and messaging some of his friends outside of group events on occasion.

Nothing could compare to how much you talked to Isaac, though. You'd call him pretending you needed help with something just for an excuse to talk to him all night. He was doing the same, too, and you were picking up on it. He was just so mesmerizing, and there was nobody you'd rather hang out with. Every time you were talking, you just couldn't stop smiling and laughing at every joke he made.

It took around six months to realize what it was. You were crushing hard. Coming to terms with the fact you were e-crushing on a boy was sort of embarrassing. If you ended up dating, that'd make you edaters, even in quarantine. Even the cringe you felt at the prospect wasn't enough to stop you from being just so into him.

As much as you tried to ride it out and see if it would disappear, your feelings toward Isaac were only getting worse by the day. Eventually, you had to bite the bullet. Your confession came on one of your late night calls with Isaac, around 1 AM. You were talking about essentially nothing until you went quiet for a bit. He asked you what was up, and it just all came out.

Isaac was shocked, to say the least. He went quiet for a bit and you felt your heart in your throat. The silence broke when you heard a soft laugh of disbelief from his microphone, Isaac clearing his throat and sitting up in his chair, and saying, "Fuck, me too."

The wave of relief that washed over you in that moment was like nothing you'd ever felt before. It turned into giddy laughter from both of you and embarrassed admissions of the fact you were going to be edaters. The two of you decided it would be best if you kept things pretty slow as you figured it out, not telling the friend group just yet.

It went easier than you thought. Your calls and messages were as frequent (if not more), you were just a little more honest with each other. Being able to tell him how nice his voice sounded whenever it came to your mind was a perk. Isaac, it seemed, had a lot of repressed things he didn't say. You'd get random compliments a few times an hour and it would just melt you.

God, Isaac was so obviously in love with you. Good morning and good night texts every day, sending you photos from social media that you posted just to compliment everything he liked about it, and showing you off to all his friends as soon as you were ready to tell them. Turns out, they'd picked up on what was going on between you two. Nick, Tanner, Larry, Yumi, and Grunk all had a shared bet on when you'd get together (closest one wins, it was Larry).

Almost three months into your relationship, Isaac slipped up and finally said "I love you". You didn't hesitate to say it back. In truth, you'd both been in love with each other before you got together and you were both waiting on the other to say it. Isaac was just about to get off call to stream and said, "Alright, see you in chat! I love you!" He was a little late to stream that day.

The amount of times Isaac says sappy shit and "I love you" needs to be recorded. He's just hopelessly in love. And you're hopelessly in love with him, too. You're almost as bad as he is, but you'd never admit it. He won't hesitate to parade you around to his friends if it's something you're comfortable with.

Time was flying by, so it was a surprise when he was suddenly talking about moving in with his friends in Texas. It was a good idea, although a little bit of a risky investment with the previous content houses. With how confident he was in the idea, you were behind him whether or not it turned out well.

Then, he asked you to join them. It shouldn't have been as surprising as it was, given you were his partner. Either way, you were more than happy to say yes. It was a scary endeavor, but you would get through it with Isaac by your side. Though, the two of you had never met in person and you'd be moving in together Isaac had offered to pay for an apartment for you to live in nearby, but you'd much rather live with your boyfriend.

So, before you knew it, the time had come. Isaac and his friend had driven all the way to your house, you piled yourself and your things into the truck, and set off. The ride felt no different than any of your nightly discord calls. You bounced off each other just as well as you did before, the fear of awkward tension dissipating immediately.

The drive was long. Picking up friends on the way was nice, Isaac's mom was super nice, but in general it was still a long drive. It only dawned on you how little you had recorded the first day once it was almost over, and you rushed to record a bunch of new footage once you were in Austin.

Halfway there, you got to Blake's house to take a rest stop for the night. You and Isaac took the guest room and took a few photos together. It felt surreal to finally be with your boyfriend in person, cuddled up in one bed together. You got to kiss him for the first time, and it was better than you could imagine.

Before you took off the next day with Blake and Nick in the other car, you made sure to take a photo of Isaac to post on your social media (with his head cropped out). No official confirmation of your relationship, but it was nice to be able to post your boyfriend. Of course, any of the rumors fans had started were extinguished by other fans for speculation, but you couldn't help to laugh at the fact they were right.

Through all the trials and tribulations of the next day, you finally arrived at your new home. Tanner and Larry were already there, having flown in before your group had gotten there. Somehow, in the little time they had been there, the house was both empty and a mess at the same time.

All that aside, you were happy to settle in for the night with Isaac. It was your second full day of being together and it felt you'd known each other for a lifetime. You slept with your head on his chest and woke up to him having picked you up breakfast. It hadn't occurred to you until that moment that Isaac might know your go-to orders and foods you liked best.

You had breakfast and went downstairs to find Isaac hanging out with Nick. You didn't say anything until you cuddled up next to Isaac on the couch, mumbling a 'thank you for breakfast' into his shoulder. Nick shot you two a judgmental look before returning to unpacking his room.

It took you another hour of chilling and waking up before you finally began to get your room unpacked. He had put up a lot of little trinkets from your favorite shows on the shelves he bought alongside his own. By the time you guys had your room and office set up, it was about time to get dinner and wind down for the night.

You did your first stream from the new office after you ate, the boys coming in periodically. Your chat asked about the new location and you got to be the one to announce the move, calling all the boys into the room. Isaac's height made it conveniently easy to keep his face out of frame, and you had to remember to tell him he couldn't lean down too much to hug you without an accidental face reveal.

It wasn't much of a surprise how chaotic the house ended up being. The boys had their moments of being utter idiots, but they were a lot more fun to get to know in person. Isaac gushed to you one night about how happy he was that you were friends with his friends. Even if you spent the most time with your boyfriend, you casually were hanging out with the guys all the time.

When it came to being in the background of streams, you and Isaac were the stars of the show. You didn't always do content together, but if you were seen on a stream it was always as a pair. The dating rumors came back with a vengeance, and you had to consider whether or not to keep your relationship under wraps from the fans anymore.

It didn't matter, though. Isaac was on a late night stream with Tanner and Blake and mentioned how he was planning your anniversary without even thinking. The fans sufficiently blew up at this news, but it came with a plethora of well wishes. Any shock wore off and you realized it was a weight taken off your shoulders to not have to hide it.

Of course, you gave the internet a mirror selfie of Isaac holding you by the waist from behind as a confirmation on your end. As a treat.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Slumber Party Kissing

Gareth Emerson X F!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Synopsis: The Wheeler siblings are at odds because Mike needs to host Hellfire the same night as Nancy’s slumber party on her weekend home from college. As much as the two of them try to keep the groups apart, intermingling inevitably ensues.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI cursing; alcohol; arguing; flirting; kissing/making out; fingering; oral m receiving (+swallowing); dirty talk

A/N: Y'all- idk what came over me with this one... Comments & reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you like it!

The last thing Nancy wanted to hear is that she’s being forced to share the house with her brother’s weird friends. She hasn’t seen her friends in months and now her reunion is being trampled on by a band of geeks with stupid dice. She pleaded with her mother- begged practically on her hands and knees to please not let Mike have his friends over that night. 

Mike was stuck. The drama club had completely taken over the theatre room with their show coming up- the whole space is completely torn apart and they’ve essentially forced Hellfire out. Eddie cornered Mike, and put the burden to figure out a new meeting spot on him. Mike had no choice but to beg his parents to let Hellfire meet at their house that night. 

So, the Wheeler house was a house divided. Hellfire was corralled in the basement while Nancy and her friends staked their claim to the ground floors. And it worked- for a little while. Until the campaign would be interrupted, giggling girls and loud music from above distracting from the harrowing journey. Or, the girls would hear the screams and battle cries from below- Nancy rolling her eyes and becoming more annoyed with every passing minute. 

You’d been anxious about tonight ever since Nancy told you Hellfire Club was going to be there. Not because you believed what everyone said, you knew they weren’t. It was because you knew Gareth would be there, the boy you crushed on the entirety of high school. You hadn’t seen him since your graduation back in June. Now, what was supposed to be a night of girl talk and catching up with your old friends, is different than you’d hoped- your mind unable to focus on the fact that he’s so close by. 

“Hungry Eyes” by Eric Carmen blasting through the whole house on the living room stereo is Eddie’s breaking point. He slams his campaign notebook on the edge of the table as he gets up. “I’m putting a fucking stop to this,” he exclaims, kicking up from his seat. Mike panics, knowing that he’ll never hear the end of it from Nancy if Eddie crashes her party. Gareth and Jeff are in tow, and Grant steps in front of the stairs, blocking Mike from following them up. 

“Wheeler, can you turn this shit off!? Holy-” Eddie’s words fail as Jeff and Gareth stumble in behind them. You feel like you’ve been caught in something as the boys storm in. You’re frozen in place- standing in the middle of the Wheeler’s living room in your pajamas, hairbrush microphone in hand, singing along with Eric Carmen as off-key as you could manage. You feel like someone pulled the curtain back on you leaving you completely exposed. The girls who were cheering you on have all fallen silent, and Nancy looks like she might kill Eddie. Mike comes bursting into the room, but is stuck in place at the tension in the room. He doesn’t know how to diffuse the situation. 

Gareth didn’t know you were going to be here. Seeing you again has him slack-jawed. He can’t help the way his eyes rake over you. It’s been months since he’d seen you. The fabric of your pajama set looks so soft- the tiny shorts showing off more of your leg than your skirts at school ever did. He’s dreamt about being able to see you like this. He didn’t think he’d ever see you after graduation, and he doesn’t know how to handle himself. 

“Let’s go to the kitchen- I have appetizers I made,” Nancy suggests, shooting daggers at Eddie- shoving past them to go towards the kitchen. She grabs two bottles of wine by their stems from the cabinet and gestures for all of you to follow her. Embarrassed, you turn off the stereo and slip past them- avoiding looking at Gareth at all costs. You were mortified. 

“Come on, let’s get back to the campaign,” Mike tries to urge, knowing that he’s going to be facing hell from Nancy tomorrow when everyone is gone. Gareth didn’t hear him, too wrapped up in his own thoughts- his eyes still following your every move. He doesn’t break his stare until you glance up and catch him looking. He immediately shifts his focus back to Mike and nods in agreement. For now, they all retreat back to the basement to pick up where they left off. 

The group of you stand around the kitchen island, enjoying the array of finger food Nancy has put out. It looks like something taken directly out of Good Housekeeping. You’re sandwiched between Nancy and Chrissy as all the girls resume their chatter. “I am so sorry about that,” Nancy says to the group, “I tried everything to prevent that.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Chrissy shrugs, “It’s Mike’s house too.” Always diplomatic. “Besides,” she giggles looking around before she speaks, “I always thought Eddie was really cute.”

“Ew!” Nancy says in faux disgust as the group all laugh. Chrissy’s cheeks flush a rosy pink and she hides her head in her hands. 

“Sue me!” she jokes. “I can’t help it, I love the hair and the tats- he’s so hot!”

“I get it,” Tina shrugs, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s the whole rock star look- it’s against the laws of nature for a loser to be that hot. Do you guys remember Billy? He was so hot.”

“He was a total psychopath!” Nancy says, jaw dropped. She leans on the table and takes another sip of her wine. “He works at the auto body shop now,” she continues.

“Mental note to slash my own tires,” Tina jokes. “Oh, he was totally insane- but god, those abs. I would go to the pool like at least three times a week the whole summer he worked there. He was a god. He totally wanted to fuck your mom, Nance-”

“EW! Shut up!” she gasps, waving her hand over Tina’s mouth. 

“What about you?” Tina asks, directing her attention back to you. “Who did you think was hot in high school?” Your face burns. 

“Uh-”

An eruption of screams from downstairs distracts everyone and you thankfully don’t have to answer. The boys have suffered a major loss in their campaign. Lucas’s character has just died a heinous death at the hands of Venca and they are riled up, desperate for vengeance on behalf of their fallen comrade. Dustin has chosen to lead the group to Vecna’s lair against the odds that are stacked against them. The boys clamor and scream as they watch the dice roll. It will be the end of everything. 

“Can you guys keep it down?” Nancy yells, stomping down the stairs with you and Chrissy closely behind, interrupting the game. Mike and Dustin shout, irritated that she's come downstairs to interfere. “Mike, I swear to god! You guys have been so obnoxious the whole night and we’ve said nothing!” 

You rock and on your heels anxiously, not sure why Nancy insisted on bringing you down here. She didn’t need back up. She could handle this fine. She mumbled something about a united front when she grabbed your wrist, dragging you downstairs with her. 

“If you girls wanted to play with us, all you needed to do was ask,” Eddie smirks, warning a scoff from Nancy- but a blush from Chrissy. Gareth wants the world to open up and swallow him whole. He can’t even bear to look over at you. “Why don’t we all just play nice?” He says, eyes flickering over to Chrissy. She giggles nervously. Good god, he was laying it on so thick- and it was fucking working. 

“You’re a pig,” Nancy states matter of factly. He ignores her and he winks at Chrissy. She giggles again, and you roll your eyes. You grab her forearm to shake her out of it. 

Gareth is jealous at how easy all of this comes to Eddie. He exudes confidence, and Gareth wishes he had just an ounce of that. He could say something to make you react that way towards him. He craves that. He wants you to look at him the way Chrissy is looking at Eddie. He’s so wrapped up in his own head he can’t see that the way you look at him is even more intense than the exchange between Eddie and Chrissy. 

Gareth’s hair is unruly from the excitement of the campaign. His curls are everywhere and you just desperately want to run your hands through it. You can imagine kissing him, and your hands are the cause of the mess of curls. His jaw is clenched, probably from the stress of the awkward situation, but you can’t help but dwell on how good it looks. You bite your lip, like it’s holding you back. 

Giving up for now, Nancy glared at Mike one more time before heading back upstairs- stomping loudly on every step for emphasis. You and Chrissy look at each other, exchanging a look, both of you communicating with your eyes before following Nancy back upstairs. You wish you had an excuse to stay. 

Your eyes are covered by slices of cucumber as you lay down on the floor of the living room. As it got later in the evening, both parties began to mellow- for your group, that meant mud masks and relaxing lotions, and nail painting. You all lounged on the furniture or the floor, wherever there was space. You laid in front of the couch as Chrissy and Tina shared the couch, their heads on opposite sides. Nancy sat in one recliner, and Vicki in the other. Ally, Samantha, Amy, Laurie and Becky joined you on the carpet. 

After the campaign ended, the boys opted to stick around and hang out, watching a crappy movie on the television set in the basement. Gareth was fidgeting, unable to relax- you were right upstairs! You were so close and still as unattainable as ever. He didn’t know if after tonight he’d have an opportunity to see you again. He should’ve taken advantage of the time when he saw you in school every day. You’re no longer in his life by proximity. He knew he should make a move, say something- anything. He just didn’t know how he would without embarrassing himself. 

Nancy had easy listening music playing softly as you all basked in the pampering. You were all just talking about nothing- college, work, catching up. You hadn’t seen these girls since everyone started going their own way after graduation. “You never answered my question earlier,” you hear Tina’s voice direct the comment towards you. You wince, grateful that none of them can see you squirm- everyone with either cooling eye masks or cucumbers over their eyes. They would be none the wiser if you could just be nonchalant- something that was never your strong suit. 

“Honestly?” you begin nervously, trying to steady your breath. It’s become so late that you’re too tired to advise yourself to not spill. “Gareth Emerson- since like freshman year when he showed up to school with his hair grown out- I would just wanna run my hands through it all the time.” You expect to be met with laughter, teasing you for having a crush on a freak- like how they reacted to Chrissy. Instead, you’re met with an unsettling silence. You sit up, letting the cucumbers fall into your lap. Everyone else had taken their masks off already, and you didn’t know. You look up and follow where everyone is looking.   

Gareth is standing right there, looking at you with his eyes wide in shock. Apparently everyone else heard someone walk in, except you. This is worse than anything- a million times worse to the awkwardness of the Eric Carmen incident earlier tonight, worse than when you got your period and bleed through your jeans in middle school, worse than when you forgot the words to the pledge of allegiance when you did the morning announcements, worse than when you tripped and accidentally spilled your lunch all over Carol… every awkward thing that you’ve done that keeps you lying awake at night is nothing compared to this. 

You’re so embarrassed, you can’t even think and you feel like the room is spinning. You can’t even say anything as everyone looks to you for your reaction. The silence is killing you. There’s nothing to drown out the ringing in your ears as your worst possible fear is coming true. You quickly get up and rush upstairs as tears threatening to fall blur your vision, and your friends let you go. You need to brush shoulders with Gareth to get to the stairs, and you feel your skin ignite at the sensation despite feeling like the house is shattering around you. 

You’ve resolved that you’re going home. You can’t handle being under the same roof as him anymore. It’s all too much. It feels like practically your entire gradutating class seems to know about your crush now. More importantly, so did he. Rather than face the sting of rejection, in the heat of the moment, you resolve to try to get dressed and sneak out the bathroom window. You decide you can be gone before people realize you’ve left. Before you do anything to put your elaborate plan into motion, you run the water to splash some on your face. There’s a hesitant knock on the door. 

“It’s Gareth,” he says softly from the other side of the door. 

Oh god no, you panic. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of the mirror. Fuck. 

“Can we talk?” He asks, tapping gently on the door. 

No. 

“Uh, yeah,” you sniffle, trying your best to hide it. You open the door to face him. You’re bracing yourself for the worst. “Listen,” you begin, resolving that you will badly lie your way out of this to salvage your pride. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. It was just like a stupid high school crush. I’ve gotten over it…”

“What if,” he poses, finally mustering his courage, “what if I never got over it?” 

Gareth doesn’t really remember a lot of the things he was supposed to be learning when you both were still in school. He vaguely remembered things, but only because how could he be expected to look at the board when you were so close, sat right in front of him. He’d memorize the back of your head before even thinking about trying to memorize his notes. 

The day the teacher went over Punnett squares? No idea, cause you were wearing that bow in your hair. Covalent bonds? That was the day your hair was up in a claw clip- and all he could focus on was the way it accentuated your neck and shoulders. Periodic table? Maybe he could name a few if he tried, but he remembered that jean skirt you wore so much better. Stoichiometry? Couldn’t even tell you if that’s a real word- but, he remembers that your perfume always smelled like vanilla.

“What the fuck is taking him so long?” Mike finally asks the group. Gareth left to go to the bathroom what feels like forever ago. Eddie is bobbing is knee impatiently that he shakes the table. 

“You should go check on him,” Dustin says to Mike. 

“And face the wrath of Nancy? Fuck that,” Mike says, shaking his head. 

“It’s your house, man,” Lucas points out. 

“You all are pathetic, acting like babies, can’t believe you’re acting this scared of fucking Wheeler,” Eddie is exasperated and his patience has now worn thin. “Fuck, I’ll go with you Wheeler, I don’t care if your sister yells at me.” 

Heading upstairs, Eddie and the rest of Hellfire stop dead in their tracks. The entire slumber party is sitting so still, eyes directed upstairs like they're anticipating something at any second. No one even acknowledges the guys’ entrance until Jeff speaks up.

“What is going-” he tries to ask.

“SHH!” Several of the girls shush him at once. He’s taken aback. 

“What happened?” Eddie whispers, taking a seat next to Chrissy. The rest of Hellfire trickles in and takes seats on the floor or on the arms of the chairs. Everyone is waiting literally on the edge of their seats. 

“We were all talking, you know-” Chrissy whispers, “girl talk. Crushes and stuff.”

“Normal sleepover you know?” Tina chimes in, helping Chrissy set the scene for all of the guys. 

Chrissy asks if Eddie remembered you, he nods and so do the others. Of course, Eddie, Jeff and Grant remembered you. You were all Gareth would talk about outside of band practice or DnD. Jeff and Grant exchange a wary look, not sure where this is going. What the fuck happened?”

“Well, Tina asked her who she had a crush on,” Chrissy continues to explain, Eddie leaning in closer as she keeps her voice down so the girls can continue to eavesdrop. “And she said Gareth and Gareth walked in just as she was talking about him. She was so upset, she darted upstairs before anyone could say anything. Gareth followed her. We don’t know what to do!”

“You let them be,” Eddie says matter of factly. If he could run upstairs and high five his best friend he would, but being the guy’s best friend at this moment means Eddie needs to keep people distracted so you both can sort yourselves out. He goes over to the stereo and looks through the options.

“Mike, your family has shit for cassettes,” Eddie declares, “None of you have taste.” He holds up Nancy’s copy of Rio between his thumb and index finger, dangling it like it’s something smelly that’s gone bad. “I’m disappointed in you, Wheeler.”

Nancy gets up and snatches the cassette from him. Spitefully, she shoves the tape into the player and turns it all the way up. Hungry Like the Wolf starts playing halfway through cause she didn’t rewind it the last time she listened. She turns the volume dial up, and flips Eddie the bird. He walks over to shut it off, purposely agitating her. Nancy stomps over and turns it back on. 

Your hands are tangled in Gareth’s hair and it’s better than you even imagined it would be. His curls are so soft, and he moans against your lips at the sensation when you tug gently. You completely forgot everyone was downstairs until you both heard the radio switching on and off rapidly. You both pull away from a heated kiss and turn to the direction of the door, a brief moment of confusion before Gareth shrugs and connects his lips to yours again. 

You’re sitting on the bathroom counter, Gareth standing between your legs which have now wrapped around him. His hands grip the sides of your thighs, practically kneading at your soft skin. Your lips slot perfectly against his, and it’s better than you imagined it would be. Your hands travel from his hair to cup his jaw and you use your legs to pull him in even closer, until your chests are flush against each other. The sensation is dizzying. 

“Wanted this for so long,” he moans softly against your ear, when you both pull away for air. His lips trail from the bottom of your ear, down your neck and collarbone. “So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin, kissing right along to your shoulder. 

“Gare, please,” you beg, not even fully sure what you’re asking for. Your breathy little plea goes straight to his cock. 

“I’ve got you baby,” he promises. His fingertips dip into the waistband of your pajama shorts and he groans, dipping his forehead to rest on your shoulder. “You’re not wearing panties?” he asks, but not a question- but more like a sigh, like the knowledge of you being bare under your set is too much for him to handle. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he presses his lips to yours again, his fingertips circling your clit perfectly. “So wet,” he praises against your lips, not breaking the kiss. 

His fingers slip into your folds and you rest your head back on the bathroom mirror, your chest rising and falling rapidly- you’re falling apart at his touch. Just like you knew you always would. You’re a moaning, pleading mess, his name falling from your lips over and over again like a prayer. The familiar knot starts to coil up as you feel your orgasm send a wave throughout your entire body. Your hands are holding his hair to keep you grounded as you become unraveled. He kisses you through it, praising you and whispering sweet things as he works you through your high. 

Your forehead rests against his, foreheads sweaty, but neither of you can even bring yourself to care. You kiss him slowly, gently pushing him back against the opposite fall. His eyes widen in surprise as he observes your actions. You move as one with him, climbing off the counter and then you sink down to your knees, eye level with the prominent bulge in his jeans. 

“Oh fuck,” he moans as you make quick work of undoing his zipper and freeing his cock from the restraint of his jeans and boxers. He’s looking down at you, trying to commit it to memory: your wide eyes hungrily staring at his cock, your manicured hand wrapping gently around him. your pretty lips kissing his tip and your tongue licking up the length before taking his cock into your pretty mouth. His hands rest in your hair and he closes his eyes, resting his head back because it already feels too fucking good. He can’t look at you- he knows it will send him over the edge too soon. There’d been so many nights he’d fantasize exactly this- he’s almost afraid that he’ll open his eyes and you’ll be gone. All of tonight being just a figment of his imagination. 

He opens his eyes to steal a glimpse of you finally, and you're looking up at him with these round doe eyes and it’s all too much for him to take. “I’m close- what should I-” he manages to say, but his coming apart only makes you all the more eager. You continue your pace, but you reach up and hold his hips, your nails slightly digging into his skin to keep him in place. It all becomes so overwhelming, and you moan feeling him pulse, knowing he’s so teasingly close. He practically whimpers as it washes over him as he finally releases and you’re still going- working him through it. When he pulls away, you do something he never imagined. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out ever so slightly, showing him his cum in your mouth before you swallow. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He bends down to kiss you, cupping your face in his hands. He can't taste himself on you, and he thinks it might be the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. 

A loud, pounding knock on the door makes you both jump. You quickly scramble to your feet, wiping the spit from your mouth and Gareth fumbles to get his zipper back up.  “Can you two lovebirds finish up in there!?” Eddie shouts, “I can’t keep covering for your asses anymore! Emerson, we have a campaign to fucking finish!”

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

We Must Know, How Did it End?

“It was tricky, really. Writing songs that come from a place of pain isn’t usually my thing,” Sirius says, plastering a polite smile onto his face. “It’s difficult to describe a feeling that’s so… overwhelming.” 

Peter smiles back, and Sirius can see the empathy etched across his face. 

“Okay, I think we have time for some audience questions,” Pete says, turning to the audience. Sirius follows his gaze to a crew member handing a mic over to a young woman. 

“Hi, uh, hi. I was just wondering if your album is based on your recent breakup? With Remus?” 

His name alone makes the blood freeze in Sirius’ veins. The fan isn’t wrong, his album is essentially all about Remus. It doesn’t stop his heart from stuttering at the mention of Remus. It brings memories that he’s been trying to write out of his system back to the front of his mind. They bring a lump into his throat, and he has to blink harshly to fight back any semblance of a visceral reaction. 

Thankfully, Peter steps in. 

“You know what? Let’s move on. Anyone else?” 

In spite of a few grumblings, the microphone travels further, landing with another fan. 

“Hey. I was just wondering if you ever think that Remus dated you for the fame? I mean, his follower count has doubled since you two-” 

“No, I don’t think that,” Sirius cuts in sharply. Apparently, his need to defend Remus is stronger than his hurt at their breakup. Peter is opening his mouth to speak, probably to move on again, but Sirius isn’t ready to move on. “Of course I don’t think that. Remus’ talent speaks for itself. He doesn’t need me to be his way to break out in the dance world. We might not be together anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is still one of the most genuine people I have ever met. Honestly, his kindness is indescribable. Everything I said while we were together was true. That relationship was the realest thing I’ve ever had, okay? Us breaking up doesn’t diminish that.” 

The whole studio has lapsed into silence, and Sirius is really regretting the way he went about that now. Even Peter’s watching him in shock. Eventually, he seems to remember his own job, clearing his throat and breaking out into a smile. 

“Okay! It’s about time for us to move on…” 

Sirius is pretty sure that he’s been in a trance for the past hour. He doesn’t even remember the trip back to his house. All he knows is that he’s been scrolling through his tagged posts as his manager, Benjy, shouts at him over the phone. 

“This is, without a doubt, the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done!” 

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Sirius grumbles under his breath. Unfortunately, Benjy has the ears of a fucking hawk. 

“If you weren’t a public figure, and I wasn’t your fucking PR Manager, I would think it was sweet, Sirius! However, calling your relationship with Remus the realest thing you’ve ever had?! That gives tabloids every opportunity under the sun to call you obsessive!”

“Yeah, well, it needed to be said,” Sirius says decisively. He’s not wrong. In what world could anyone ever see Remus as anything less than kind? Yeah, they haven’t seen the way Remus would hold Sirius through his panic attacks, say the dumbest things just to watch him smile, or the dance. The one Remus dedicated to him. The one Sirius really should delete from his camera roll. 

“God, Sirius, you’re so lucky that I actually like you.” Benjy interrupts his train of thought, thankfully, letting out a groan as Sirius refreshes Instagram for the fifteenth time. “However, now you need to lay low until people forget that this happened.” 

“What? That I defended him? Just because he’s my ex doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to say anything nice about him!” 

“Yes it does. You can’t say anything too bad, or anything too nice. You have to be neutral. Peter was about to gloss past the question, anyway!” Sirius rolls his eyes, grateful that Benjy can’t see him as he goes scrolling again. He’s being called obsessive in countless different ways by news outlets, people who hate him, and people who have decided that his and Remus’ breakup means that it’s time to take sides. As he looks through them, he’s barely even pausing. 

Until he reaches a post with Remus’ face at the front of it. 

As much as he knows that he shouldn’t, he wants to watch it. He’s spent a lot of time watching the videos he promised James that he’d deleted and crying, but those were videos Sirius had filmed himself. They were personal. He hasn’t interacted with anything that Remus has posted publicly. He doesn’t actually want to be a stalker. 

This feels… different. Mostly because this one has his name on it. 

‘REMUS LUPIN BREAKS SILENCE ABOUT EX BOYFRIEND SIRIUS BLACK:’ 

“Yeah, okay, Benjy, I’ll stay silent,” Sirius says quickly, zoning out. 

“Oh, really? Thanks. That was easy-” 

“Okay, bye.” He hangs up before Benjy can say anything else, immediately playing the video. 

It’s from one of Remus’ livestreams. His face is flushed a slight red, like it usually is after rehearsal, sitting on the floor in his studio. Sirius hates how endearing he finds it. He’s just talking, comments rolling in and the radio playing, when Sirius catches the message. It’s just another one calling him a stalker, but it stops Remus in his tracks. 

“Right, you all need to leave Sirius alone,” Remus says decisively. The way his name sits in Sirius’ mouth brings a lump into his throat all over again. He really needs to stop crying over Remus, it’s getting a little sad. Maybe he is obsessive. “He isn’t stalking me. I actually haven’t spoken to him at all. Listen, the- the breakup was amicable, okay? We don’t hate each other, and we really don’t need people taking sides. All he did was defend me, which he didn’t have to do. It was nice of him, yeah, but it doesn’t make him obsessive. He’s just being a good person, he can’t help that.” Sirius smiles to himself, face warming at the compliment. 

Okay, he is obsessed. 

Still, it’s so unbelievably Remus to be so willing to defend him. To immediately assume the best about Sirius. 

Just when Sirius expects the clip to end, a different song starts playing. He recognises it straight away. It’s one from his new album. 

‘ I told the moon about you… ’ 

Remus’ eyes widen at the words. At Sirius ’ words. He never has been any good at hiding the first thought that flits across his face. 

“Sorry, I’m, er… I’ve got to go. Thanks for- for watching, yeah,” Remus says hurriedly. 

That’s when the clip ends. 

For what feels like the thousandth time, Sirius wants to be in the same room as Remus, to have the privilege of finding out exactly what is going on in his head. He wants to press his thumb against the furrow in Remus’ brow and watch his face relax. Christ, he just wants to touch him, really. His forehead, his hand, his shoulders, his waist, anywhere . With a groan, he drops his head into his hands. He’s actually pathetic. James is the only one who’s allowed to hear about this, and Sirius is pretty sure he needs a stern talking to from him right about now. 

There’s a knock at his front door, which Sirius assumes is James. It’s like the man can read his mind. The knocking is a little… frantic, but James is bouncy, it’s not exactly out of the ordinary. 

He walks slowly over to the door, reaching out and pulling it open. 

The moment he catches a glimpse of the familiar amber eyes, every muscle in Sirius’ body freezes. 

Remus. 

He hasn’t seen him in three months. Not since he left Sirius’ house, got on a plane, and didn’t come back. Sirius has spent a countless number of minutes trying to recall every single detail about Remus, looking at photos of the two of them, wishing that he had spent more time etching every line, every freckle, into his brain. He thought he had, really, but he was right in his interview. Remus is indescribable. 

For a moment, they just look at each other, Remus’ mouth slightly ajar as though he hadn’t expected Sirius to open the door. He almost seems like he doesn’t know how he got there. 

Well, until Sirius speaks. 

“M- Remus? What- what are you…?” He trails off, watching the way Remus’ features set to something much more sure. 

“Sirius, I love you,” he says suddenly. They’re words Sirius never expected to hear coming from Remus again. “I’m still in love with you, and I’m tired of pretending that I haven’t regretted every single step that I’ve taken since I left here. I- God, Sirius, I think we made a mistake. I- I know what we said, what we agreed on. It was too difficult with our schedules, we were both being too distant, fighting over little things,” he lists everything like it’s pointless, as Sirius tries to get his brain to fucking wake up and work. “And I get it, Sirius. I really do get it, I understand, but I’d take thousands of fights over- over dishes, or hogging blankets, instead of having to do these months all over again. This is going to sound really sad, and really bloody pathetic, but I’ve watched the videos of you writing songs in my flat more time than I can fucking count since we broke up! You told the moon about me? I know that line. I’d know it anywhere. It’s the one right before I turned the camera off and kissed you. It just made me- I don’t know, I didn’t think hearing it like that would hurt so much.” He seems to be hit with a completely different emotion, some sense of regret, and it’s probably Sirius’ fault, since he doesn’t seem to be able to get his voice to work. He can sing night after night, go on countless talk shows, but apparently this is what it takes to render Sirius speechless. “I know I’m probably overstepping a boundary, and this is really fucking stupid of me, but I- I want to try again.” 

Yeah, the words really aren’t going to come out. He’s going to have to find some other way to tell Remus exactly how he feels. 

“If I didn’t say something I just know that I’d regret it for the rest of my life. So tell me to leave and I will. I’ll turn around and- and I’ll move country. You’ll never have to see me again-” 

He can’t say anything else, because Sirius is kissing him. 

He isn’t even sure when he made the decision to do it. It’s almost like a reflex, the first thing to come naturally to him. 

There’s not a second of regret that comes with it, though. 

Before he can even figure out where he got the idea to do that, Remus’ arms are around Sirius’ waist, pulling him closer and holding him secure, warm, safe . His lips are soft, so familiar that Sirius wants to cry. 

Actually, he is crying. 

Tears start rolling down his face as he pulls away to look at Remus. Thankfully, Remus is crying himself, and somehow also grinning like an idiot, which Sirius can genuinely say is the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege to behold. 

“Oh, my god, I love you, Remus. Moony, I love you so much,” he says quickly, hands reaching to cup Remus’ face. 

“So- you- do you want-?” 

“To start again? Pick up from where we left off? Anything, darling. Anything. I’ll take whatever you can give me, if it means I don’t have to try to move on. You’re not someone I can get over. I’ve tried, and I’m convinced that it’s fucking impossible,” Sirius says, making Remus laugh breathlessly and drag him back into a kiss. Not that Sirius is complaining. He would let Remus drag him anywhere. Remus is his everything. His world. 

Oh, my darling, how could I ever have let you go?

[badathumanemotions]

Hi, I was wondering if you take requests, if so, can you write Elle x fem reader where the reader and Elle are on a stake-out, but things get heated?

Stakeout

Elle Greenaway x Fem Reader MDNI Masterlist Category: Smut CW: Sex in a van, Shoulder Massage, Making Out, Oral Sex, Grinding, Scissoring. WC: 4,011 (Not Proof Read)

Elle leaned against the driver seat, arms folded tight across her chest, eyes scanning the grimy alley with a glower that could make the shadows retreat. She had drawn the short straw, again. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was an FBI agent, a profiler with a knack for getting into the minds of the most twisted individuals. And here she was, essentially babysitting a suspect.

"This is a waste of time," she grumbled, the words tumbling out in a low, frustrated sigh. The air in the car had the scent of stale coffee and old french fries. You could see the tension coiled in her shoulders, the way her fingers tapped an erratic rhythm against her thigh.

"Elle, it's part of the job," you reminded her, trying to keep the weariness out of your voice. The stakeout was a necessary step in the investigation, a tedious dance of patience and observation.

"Yeah, I know," she said, not bothering to hide her frustration. "It's just…so fucking boring."

You let out a short laugh. "It's not all high-speed chases and dramatic interrogations, you know."

Her eyes snapped to you, and for a moment, you thought she might argue. But then, she cracked a smile. "I know. I just wish it was."

You couldn't help the smirk that crept onto your face. "Well, if you behave, I might just make it interesting," you teased, jerking a thumb over your shoulder towards the backseat.

Elle's eyes narrowed playfully. "Oh, really?"

Before you could respond, movement at the far end of the. They sauntered towards the apartment building with an ease that suggested they had no clue they were being watched. Your heart kicked up a notch in your chest, and you leaned closer to the windshield, eyes narrowing to focus on the suspect's face. He was a young man, probably in his mid-twenties, with a mop of shaggy hair and a smug smirk that made you want to wipe it off his face.

Elle noticed the shift in your posture and followed your gaze. "Is that him?" she asked.

You nodded, reaching for the switch to activate the parabolic microphone. The quiet hum filled the car as you positioned it to catch the faintest whispers of conversation from inside the suspects apartment. "Let's see what kind of party we're crashing."

Elle leaned in closer, her eyes alight with the thrill of the hunt. She was a force to be reckoned with in the field, a sharp mind wrapped in a tightly-wound package of determination. You knew she was itching to get out of the car and make a move, but you had to wait for the right moment.

The suspect's voice was faint, but the microphone picked up enough to give you a taste of his conversation. It was mostly small talk, the kind of banter you'd expect from someone who didn't have a care in the world. He talked about the weather, complained about his job, and laughed at a joke you couldn't quite catch.

Elle rolled her eyes, but you put a finger to your lips, signalling for silence. It was important to listen, even if it was mundane. Sometimes, the most innocuous details could reveal something vital. You scribbled notes on a pad of paper, logging the time and content of the conversation.

Two entire hours ticked by, the clock on the dashboard casting a sickly green glow over the interior of the van. The conversation inside the apartment remained unchanged, a dull drone of complaints and laughter that did nothing to advance the investigation.

Your body was starting to get stiff from sitting in one position for too long. You rolled your neck, trying to loosen the muscles that had cramped up from the tension of the stakeout. The leather of the seat was sticking to your back, and your legs felt like they had fallen asleep.

Elle looked over at you, her own frustration clear. "We've been here for hours, and all we've got is his take on some shitty reality show," she complained, her voice tight with irritation. "This is ridiculous."

You nodded, trying not to let the boredom seep into your own voice. "It's all part of the game, Greenaway. Sometimes you've got to play the long con."

Elle grunted, but you could see the tension in her shoulders ease a bit. She knew you were right, even if she didn't want to admit it. The job wasn't always glamour and gunfire; sometimes it was just the slow, painful crawl towards a breakthrough.

You climbed into the back of the van, the padded floor compressing slightly your shoes. You stretched out your legs and rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. The lights from outside danced on the metal panels above you.

Elle twisted in her seat to check on you. "You okay back there?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

You nodded. "Just trying to get the kinks out." You rolled your neck from side to side, feeling the muscles protest.

Elle studied you for a moment, her eyes lingering on the tension in your shoulders. Then she leaned over the centre console, her hand brushing against your arm. "Here, let me help."

Before you could object, she had climbed into the back with you, her knees brushing against your side as she knelt beside you. She placed her warm hands on your shoulders, her thumbs digging into the knots with a firm pressure that made you gasp. You couldn't help but let your eyes drift shut, the relief from the tension spreading like warm honey through your body.

Elle's touch was surprisingly gentle, her expert fingers working out the tightness that had settled into your muscles. You felt yourself start to relax under her ministrations, the stress of the stakeout and the case melting away. The van was suddenly a small, intimate space, filled with the sound of your own breathing and the soft hum of the city outside.

Her hands moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what they were doing, each press and stroke bringing a fresh wave of relief. And as she worked, her fingers grew bolder, sliding under the collar of your shirt to access the knots along your shoulders. Her nails grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

Without realizing it, you leaned into her touch, your head tilting to the side to give her better access. The tension in the van shifted, the air heating up with something that had nothing to do with the case.

Elle's thumbs dug in a little deeper, pressing against the base of your neck, and you couldn't hold back the low moan that slipped from your lips. The sound echoed in the small space, and you felt a flush of heat spread across your cheeks.

But then, you heard it. The low, dark chuckle that rumbled from the depths of her chest. It sent a thrill down your spine, a mix of surprise and something else… something that made your heart race a little faster.

You felt her breath against your neck, warm and sweet like the scent of mint on her breath. The fine hairs along your neck stood on end, and you couldn't help but shiver, the sensation making your skin tingle.

Elle's smirk was palpable, a silent tease that seemed to vibrate in the air between you. Her fingers continued their dance along your shoulders, moving in slow, deliberate strokes that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel her eyes on you, watching your every reaction, studying the way your body responded to her touch.

And then, without warning, her lips pressed against your neck. The contact was soft, feather-light, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. Your eyes snapped open, and you stared up at the ceiling, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. But it was impossible. The sensation was like a match striking, setting your nerves ablaze.

Her kisses grew more deliberate, moving along the column of your throat, her teeth nipping at your skin just hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel her breath, hot and heavy, as she hovered over you, her eyes dark with something that was definitely not professional interest.

You leaned back into her, the movement unconscious but unmistakable. It was like your body had a mind of its own, craving more of her touch, more of that electric heat that she seemed to generate. It was a dangerous game, playing with the lines of your partnership, but you couldn't help it. The chemistry between you had been simmering for too long, and now it was threatening to boil over.

Slowly, you turned in her grasp, facing her. Your eyes locked, and you could see the hunger in hers, the same need that was coursing through your veins. Your heart hammered in your chest, and your breath grew shallow as you leaned in, hoping, praying that she would close the distance between you.

Elle's hands slid down your arms, her fingertips lightly skimming your skin as she watched you approach. You could see the anticipation in her eyes, the way her pupils dilated with each shallow breath she took.

Then, it happened. Her lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss that sent your stomach flipping with excitement. The world outside the van vanished, replaced by the taste of mint on her lips and the warmth of her breath. You felt your body respond, your arms wrapping around her waist as you pulled her closer.

Elle didn't hesitate, deepening the kiss, her tongue sliding against yours in a dance that was both familiar and thrillingly new. Your hands roamed over her back, feeling the contours of her body beneath her tight shirt. You had worked together for years, shared countless tense moments and quiet nights in hotel rooms, but this…this was different.

With surprising strength, she leaned you back until you were laying flat on the floor of the van, the cold flooring pressing against your back. You didn't care. All you cared about was the feel of her against you, the way her body moulded to yours like it was made to fit.

Elle broke the kiss only long enough to inch your shirt up above your breasts, her eyes locking onto yours. You could see the hunger in them, the raw desire that mirrored your own. You didn't resist, didn't even think to question it. You just helped her, lifting your arms so she could pull the fabric over your head.

Her lips found your collarbones, kissing along the delicate skin there, sending shivers down your body. Each kiss was a promise, a silent vow of what was to come. Her mouth travelled lower, tracing a fiery path across your chest. You could feel her breath against your skin, hot and rapid.

Elle's fingers deftly unhooked your bra, letting the fabric fall away from your breasts. She took her time, as if savouring the moment. Her eyes were dark with desire, and you could feel the heat of her gaze on your exposed flesh. When her mouth finally reached your nipples, you gasped, arching your back. Her touch was feather-light at first, a soft tease that had you squirming beneath her. Then she took one into her mouth, her tongue flicking and teasing until you were panting with need.

Her teeth grazed the sensitive peak, and you felt electric shoot through you. You threaded your fingers through her hair, holding her to your chest as she lavished attention on your other breast. Her touch was firm, yet gentle, each suckle and lick sending waves of pleasure that pooled low in your belly. The van was filled with the sounds of your ragged breathing and the soft, wet noises of her mouth on your skin.

Elle's hands slid over your stomach, the heat from her palms searing your flesh. She explored every inch of you with the same focus she applied to her cases, leaving no part of you untouched, unexplored. Her fingers traced the waistband of your pants, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter, your body begging for more.

With a gentle bite, she marked the soft flesh of your left breast, not enough to break the skin but leaving an indelible reminder of her presence. The sensation was exquisite, a sharp pleasure that made your hips buck. You gasped, your back arching off the cold floor of the van. Her eyes darted up to meet yours, questioning, but you only nodded, urging her on.

With a smug smile, Elle hooked her fingers into the waistband of your jeans, she began to peel the fabric away from your skin. You lifted your hips to help, eager to feel the brush of her hands on your bare flesh. The denim was tight, clinging to your curves, but she was relentless.

Once your jeans were around your ankles, she took a moment to appreciate the sight before her. You were wearing a simple cotton underwear, and she could see the dampness already seeping through the fabric. She traced the edge of the fabric with the tip of her finger, watching as your body quivered at the contact.

With a wicked grin, you reached for her, your hands fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. She chuckled against your skin, her teeth grazing the sensitive spot just above your navel. "Someone's eager," she murmured, her breath sending a shiver down your spine.

Elle sat back on her heels, allowing you the space to work. You felt a thrill of power as you revealed her, one button at a time. Her shirt fell open, revealing a simple black bra that did nothing to hide the dark, pebbled peaks of her nipples. Your eyes greedily took in the sight of her, the way her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath she took.

With trembling hands, you reached behind her, feeling the clasp of her bra give way under your fingers. The material fell away, and you couldn't help but gasp at the sight of her bare breasts. They were perfect, full and round with just the right amount of give. You leaned forward, capturing one nipple in your mouth, feeling it harden against your tongue.

Elle moaned softly, her hands tangling in your hair as she held you to her. Her skin was hot, her body arching into your touch. You had never felt so alive, so consumed by desire. You had to have more of her, had to taste all of her.

With a quick tug, you pulled her pants and underwear down together, revealing her bare skin. She was beautiful, her thighs toned and smooth, her hips flaring out in a way that made your mouth water. You kissed your way down her stomach, her muscles tensing as you approached her most sensitive spot.

Elle's legs parted easily for you, and you could see the wetness glistening between her thighs. Your heart raced as you knelt between her legs, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. You took a deep breath, inhaling the musky scent of her desire. It was intoxicating, making you ache with need.

Her hands found their way into your hair, gripping tightly as you kissed along her inner thighs. Each touch of your lips sent a tremor through her body, her hips rolling in silent invitation. You felt the anticipation building, the need to taste her, to feel her come apart in your arms.

Your tongue traced a gentle path along her folds, feeling the heat and wetness that awaited you. She was already so close, her body responding to every caress like a finely-tuned instrument. You took your time, savouring the sweetness of her, the way she gasped and writhed beneath you.

But Elle wasn't one to be passive, not even in passion. With a sudden surge of strength, she flipped you onto your back, her eyes flashing with challenge. "My turn," she growled.

Her hands slid up your thighs, roughly removing your underwear with a fierce determination. The cool air hit your sensitive skin, making you shiver. But the chill was short-lived as Elle's body pressed against yours, the warmth of her sex against your own creating a delicious friction that had you squirming for more.

You felt her wetness, her need coating your own thighs as she rocked against you, the sound of skin slipping against skin echoing in the small space. The van's floor was unforgiving, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the feel of her, the way her breath hitched every time your hips met.

The intensity of her gaze was like a physical force, pushing you closer to the edge. Your own breath grew ragged as you matched her rhythm, your hands roaming her body, memorizing every dip and curve.

With a fierce determination, Elle ground her hips into yours, creating a delicious friction that had you both panting. The slick heat of her vulva against yours sent pleasure through your body. You could feel the wetness between your legs, a testament to how badly you needed release.

Her hands found their way to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as she took your nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, rolling them in a way that made you gasp. She watched your reaction with a hooded gaze, her own arousal evident in the way her pupils had blown wide and dark. The pressure grew, and she began to grind against you in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you arching your back, desperate for more.

Elle adjusted herself slightly, locking into the perfect angle. Your clit was now being stimulated just the right way, and you felt orgasm build at lightening speed. You were a mess of moans and whimpers, your hips rising to meet her movements.

Her eyes were laser focused as she worked you closer and closer to the edge. It was like she could see every sensation playing out across your features, every little twitch of your body was a secret she was eager to decode. Her own breathing grew harsher, her chest heaving as she watched you unravel beneath her.

The pressure between your legs was unbearable, a sweet torment that you never wanted to end. Each time she thrust against you, you could feel the pleasure coil tighter, threatening to shatter you into a million pieces.

And then it came. A particularly hard thrust from Elle sent you hurtling over the edge, your body arching off the cold floor of the van. The orgasm was like a thunderclap, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you trembling in its wake. Your eyes squeezed shut, and a scream ripped from your throat, raw and primal.

But Elle didn't stop. She kept moving, her eyes locked onto your face, watching the way your expression contorted with pleasure. Each thrust was more intense, more demanding. You felt yourself shatter, the sensation of coming undone only to be rebuilt, piece by piece, by her relentless rhythm.

As the waves of your climax subsided, she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "Again," she whispered, the word a command and a plea all rolled into one. And you found yourself eager to oblige.

Her movements grew more urgent, her hips grinding into yours with a ferocity that had you gripping on to her to keep from floating away on a cloud of pure bliss. Each thrust sent sparks flying behind your eyes.

A cascade of smaller orgasms began to take you over, each one riding the heels of the last, a never-ending wave of pleasure that had your toes curling and your back arching. You could feel your body tightening curling in on itself. All of your muscles contracting then releasing.

Finally, with a gasp that was half a whimper, you collapsed back onto the cold floor, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Your eyes remained shut, the aftershocks of your climax still rippling through you. You felt a warmth spread through your body, a languid satisfaction that washed away the tension of the stakeout and the stress of the case.

Elle leaned over you, her chest pressing against yours, her own breathing heavy and uneven. She kissed you, hard and possessive, her tongue delving into your mouth with the same urgency that had driven her hips against yours.

You laid back, panting, your body feeling like a live wire. Elle pulled back, her eyes searching your face for any sign of regret or hesitation, but all she found was pure, unbridled satisfaction. She gave you a smug smile, one that told you she knew she'd rocked your world.

The van was a mess of discarded clothing and tangled limbs, the floor cold against your bare skin. You laid back, your chest heaving with the aftermath of pleasure, with Elle at your side, her breaths coming in soft, satisfied pants.

The silence was heavy, but it wasn't awkward. Instead, it was filled with the electric charge of something new and unexplored. You felt the weight of her gaze on you, and you couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Well, that was unexpected," you chuckled, your voice a little hoarse.

Elle smirked, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, come on. Half the people in the office have a bet going on for when we hook up. Did you honestly think it wouldn't happen?"

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn't deny the truth in her words. The tension between you two had been clear as day for the better part of a year, a dance of desire and denial that was bound to explode. And now that it had, you couldn't help but wonder why you had waited so long.

With a playful nudge, Elle sat up, her laughter mingling with yours as she began to collect her clothes scattered across the van floor. "We should probably get dressed," she quipped. "Wouldn't want to caught with our pants down."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the stakeout dissipating like early morning mist. As you reached for your shirt, you felt like you were moving through warm molasses, your limbs heavy and languid from the afterglow.

The act of getting dressed felt almost comical in its difficulty. Each movement was exaggerated, as if you were underwater. The fabric of your clothes clung to your skin, sticky with sweat and the remnants of your passionate encounter. You managed to pull on your underwear and bra with a sense of victory.

Elle watched with a knowing smile, her own hands more nimble as she fastened her shirt. She had left you a mess and now you were fumbling like a teenager after their first kiss. The sight was both endearing and incredibly arousing to her.

Once redressed, you managed to get to your feet, legs wobbly and knees threatening to give out. You grabbed the back of the passenger seat for support, still trying to compose yourself.

Elle watched with a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You okay?" she teased.

You nodded, trying to play it cool, but the dopey smile you felt spreading across your face gave you away. "Yeah," you murmured, still reeling from the aftershocks of pleasure. The suspect's voice droned on in the background, a mundane monologue that seemed to have no end. But it didn't matter. In that moment, all that existed was the two of you, tangled in the back of the van, the scent of each other's skin lingering in the air.

Elle's hand found yours, her fingers sliding through yours in a gentle, reassuring grip. You turned to look at her, and the heat in her gaze told you everything you needed to know. It wasn't just a simple hand-hold, it was a declaration of sorts, a silent acknowledgement of the shift in your dynamic.

"I gotta say, this is probably one of my top three stakeouts."

[starr666]

Cw: submissive!idia shroud x fem!dom!camgirl, whip usage, slight embarrassment kink?,

Minors dni

By scrolling past the line below, you are consenting to seeing nsfw content

————————————————-

Fem dom cam girl reader x Idia Shroud

He lost the bet— Idia Shroud, Gloomurai— the forever anxious, introverted, gamer boy, who’s only stroke of confidence comes from his smarts or his expertise in the world of gaming— had lost the bet to her. His best (and only) friend had beaten him at a new fighting game that came out, loser had to do whatever the winner says…and who knew that it would lead to his best friend having him laying on her luxurious bed with nothing but a cover over his shivering body and high quality cameras covering the different spots in the room, y’know, for perspective. While she stood at the edge of the bed, body adorned in black lingerie, royal blue bows accenting the corset-like middle, and fishnets her curves more defined than ever. She looked down at Idia with rope and a leather whip in one hand, gently swiping it across the other gloved hand and some rope tucked under her arm. An assortment of dildos that were compatible with her strap’s harness.

“A loser’s debt is quite deep, isn’t it, Gloomurai~? Now be a dear and wave to that camera for me, hm?”

The blue haired man attempted to further hide himself under the cover to hide the ends of his hair turning a bright pink, but as soon as his arm was up, she briskly made work of him with the rope, arms behind his back in a beautiful style. She pressed down onto his back and he immediately knew that meant for him to have his ass up for her and the cameras to see, and the next thing he feels is the whip making contact with his ass.

crack

“Since you dont know how to follow directions, you won’t be able to touch me through this whole process…now, go on, look at that camera riiight in front of you and tell them why you’re in this predicament.”

His head lifts to look at the camera that showed his face and he is already struggling to stop himself from drooling from the first hit

“I-I- l-lost tHe bet—” he stuttered out, his voice slightly cracking from the pressure

CRACK

“Louder, less stuttering.”

“A-ah~, yes ma’am— I lost the gaming bet to you.”

“And what does that mean for you?” her tone dropped, the words almost coming out in a hush but still loud enough for the microphones to pick up on

“That I…have to join your cam show for the day-“

“Good boy~.”her gloved fingers were already covered with lube and she wasted no time pressing her middle and ring finger into his ass, already meeting his prostate and feeling him clench in pleasure.

“Oh you poor thing, have you been anticipating such an opportunity with me? You’re already clenching around me~”

“Mm~N-no- ma’am.“

slap

“Are you sure? Because mistress doesn’t like liars” her other hand was wrapped around his throat, the statement was growled into his ear

“O-okay…m-maybe a little bit…”

another slap to his ass was made and he let out a screechy moan

“Cut the shit, you’re my biggest donor, aren’t you~”

his hair turned completely pink as he realized that she knew from the beginning…but he didn’t find much time to bask in such a thought after she added another two fingers, which were essentially sucked in by his needy hole

“Tsk…tsk…tsk, what a pathetic slut. Might as well make it worth your while, top donor~”

He tried to keep it quiet but the microphones still picked up on his gulp and whine that followed shortly after he no longer felt the fingers in his ass. Before he gets the chance to ask what happened, he groans as he feels a sudden fullness take over him

“Ohmygoditssofuckingbig” he whispered under his breath

“Oh…you think that’s big darling? This is just from my starter pack…I’m going to fuck you until you can truly call me your top donor~”

A/N: hehehe, get it, like a top who is also a sperm donor-

[justarandombrit]

Okay, so in case anyone couldn't make it to the livestream (and just because I wanted to), I wrote down some notes while watching it, so if anyone wants to read them, they're below the cut. (Also sorry ANI fans, my dad came in to borrow a pencil while the ANI segment was happening, so I missed a lot of it)

. There was a 4 minute long intro voice over before AVPM

. James watched AVPM

. 600,000 and Lauren plays the green screen piano

. 700,000 and Lauren does an architectural digest on the green screen house

. Jon really loves Ready To Go

. Darren keeps letting Joey know he sounds like shit on old recordings

. Pinball Pete’s burnt down 🙏🙏

. MAMD was the first student produced album to make the charts

. A Very Potter Sequel’s name came before A Very Potter Musical

. They accidentally wrote Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

. James gave Julia Albain leg splints

. During Starship the entire cast was breathing fibreglass

. Starship was called “knowingly amateurish”

. Darren was supposed to write 15 songs for Starship, but he got cast on GLEE

. Darren flew in to join a rehearsal as a surprise, ran in singing Beauty and everyone was so pissed

. Everyone still loves Kick It Up A Notch

. Nick: “Which was Holy Musical B@man-

Lauren: “Fuck yeah”

. They made up Sweet Tooth, and then found out he was an actual Batman villain

. Matt came up with “Calendar Man, your days are numbered” in his dream, and it was so good it forced him awake to instantly call Nick

. Everyone thought the flying machine joke was the best AVPM joke

. Goin' Back To Hogwarts Reprise made everyone cry

. AVPSY was five hours long

. Curt saw AVPSY

. Darren arrived 2 hours before the show and didn't get a chance to read through a lot of the script

. Darren came up with “I hope you find that swimming pool”

. Joey ate one banana on the day of AVPSY and during Sidekick went “I'm losing my vision”

. They had to pay the hotel union $11,000 to use THEIR OWN microphones, and Darren's STILL BROKE

. Jeff accidentally washed out his Aladdin hair dye

. A.J. Holmes had the same agent as Jafar's original VA, and they got him to do the intro and say “pee” and “poop” in Jafar's voice

. ANI was, as we know, expected to be a hit, and, as we know, it was not

. TTO was, as we know, expected to fail, and, as we know, did not

. TTO had a batshit cast party

. Pierce used to ask Matt insanely complicated questions before bed, e.g, “How did WWII happen?”

. Firebringer was a really old concept

. Literally no one questioned why the “I don't really wanna do the work today” clip had loads of people dressed as cavewomen + cavemen

. Firebringer was the first show Jon saw live

. They made up all the Hatchetfield shows at the same time

. Nick kept making sure Paul was having fun

. The song from the Pirate Show, “Born To Be Wretched goes so fucking hard. Like if a sea shanty was a musical theatre song essentially

. Mariah: “Rich gays, please give”

. Lauren choreographed Show Stoppin' Number

. People actually gave Lauren their phones when she asked in Inevitable, and they would take them backstage and take selfies before giving them back. One time it was locked and she shouted “WHAT'S THE PASSCODE?!?!?”

. Joey: “I'm in the middle of Wiggle”

. Everyone was ill during Black Friday

. Bryce saw Black Friday

. BRYCE GOT THE APPLE

. Nick told her “Interesting things happen here” when showing her to the seat

. Ahhh when Jeff played Tom…

. Angela was in Jaime’s improv class

. Angela is no longer on vocal rest

. Angela had to kill Sherman with a finger gun one night

. Will was 100% ready for NPMD

. Will was at a party they went to during A Very Starkid Reunion

. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR STARKID

. Rip Kim

. The Docks of Troutspear is sung by Matt’s favourite character (it also slaps)

. The Pit Stop in Hatchetfield livestream is going to be a tag team deathmatch

. I love Starkid so much

[bluwavez]

˗ ˋ 🌊    ARTIFICAL DRIP    ﹕   THE TENTH MINI ALBUM    !

ARTIFICIAL DRIP is the TENTH mini album by the fictional South Korean boy group DeepDive. The album was released on July 21st, 2024. The release caused quite a stir for their revealing concept teasers and the raunchy track names. With a total of five tracks, DeepDive would promote SERVE IT and POPSICLE for a total of seven weeks. They would have three special stages for the b-side "ILY2BBY".

The mini album is completely self-produced, though the boys admit that most of the songs have been collecting dust in the vault for years. "I made Sloppy in 2018," Dowon told the crowd during their premier showcase, "Its original name was 'That's Right' and the lyrics were about something else. Finn wrote the new lyrics." The crowd would then cheer and hoot loudly for the proactive lyrics, causing Finn to shrug innocently.

"I think we made 'ILY2BBY' in, like, 2016? 2017? It was one of our first songs together," Noah explained with a puzzled look. Finn looked equally confused but nodded along. "We polished it a little for this album, but other than that...We didn't change anything. I'm kind of impressed we made that at such a young age, but at the same time, no shit, we made that as teenagers." While the crowd laughed with Noah, Finn chuckled into his microphone.

TITLE TRACK ... TRACK OO1. SERVE IT

TRACK OO2. POPSICLE

TRACK OO3. SLOPPY

TRACK OO4. ILY2BBY

TRACK OO5. KISS IT BETTER

"It shocked me," Kiwoo laughs, "I didn't think any of these songs would see the light of day. I don't really get in the studio anymore, so it was interesting to see those songs I worked on so long ago on the album."

Sirens were a bit miffed when it was revealed these weren't new songs, claiming that this album was not only exploitive but also a cash grab by Mydol. Despite knowing this was a cash grab by Mydol, Sirens would still stream and mass-buy this mini-album, resulting in 18 million albums sold by the end of their promotional period.

YOU CAN GET YOUR ARTIFICAL DRIP PHOTOCARDS HERE!

OO1. First things first, these men were never fully clothed during the entire promotional period. This era is literally defined by how often either Noah or Dowon's boobs were out, like, they were TESTING the limits of how much they could show on music shows. It was a bit ridiculous but also fitting since this album was literally talking about sucking and fucking on the beach like-

OO2. The outfits often caused a stir just because I mean look at them. For some people, it was a bit; some people used it to point out double standards, and some people just enjoyed the beachy slutness of it all. There was a little something for everyone!

OO3. Kiwoo and Jisung stayed fully clothed the whole time unless it was to wear a crop top😁 The classy men duo!

OO4. There were three music videos released in this era. Serve it, Popsicle, and Sloppy. All of which caused a stir. Sirens and netizens alike were just really shocked at how...raunchy these videos were? Except for Popsicle, which was more focused on performance and a Miami Beach concept, but the other videos? Jesus Christ-

OO5. Notably, in the Serve It music video, cameos from all of the Venus members as well as Siyeon and Laila of Lunarix. Myrah, the iconic former Allume member and soloist, was in the opening sequence. They were stacked in the hot girl department! The girls were just being "beach babes" essentially and the boys were pining over them so there wasn't a lot of contact in the Serve It music video until the end when Dowon "gets the girl" and Baebi kisses his cheek.

OO6. NOW, THE SLOPPY MUSIC VIDEO?? WE GET IT! YALL HAVE SEX! GODDAMN!

OO7. But the boys had fun! You could tell they enjoyed themselves on stage and during filming. The behind-the-scenes content seemed a lot more chill than during Tax Write-Off; tensions were high for some reason during that era, probably because a lot was riding on that comeback, but now they're having fun! They enjoy each other again!

OO8. Serve It would sweep every music show the boys got nominated for. Sirens do not play when it comes to voting, guys! They ended the promotional period with 9 wins across various different music shows. However, they did catch heat for going on The Show and absolutely demolishing the lesser-known groups nominated. They got called greedy, but Mydol is greedy, so...Accurate read!

OO9. The physical albums were quite the hot topic because they did not include the boys on the covers but instead girls. Most notably, Baebi is front and center on the "Bay Watch" Version, which confused a lot of Sirens like...She looks great, but what is she doing here? Jisung would explain that the boys actually took the pictures used on the covers and thought they fit the aesthetic of the album better than any of the photos they took of themselves. "I took the picture of Davina on the Surfs Up version. There were pictures of us on surfboards, but the pictures we took of the girls were just so...Beachy! I think the covers are nice. The girls look beautiful in them. Plus, you still get a whole photobook of us shirtless, so-" He'd then put his hand up in a stopping motion, "Calm down. Buy the albums." This would go to highlight how much creative control and input the boys have in the album-making process.

O10. Though it never got a music video, ILY2BBY got a performance video where the boys did the choreography on the beach. Every track got some kind of promotion besides Kiss It Better which Sirens were very vocal about wanting at least a dance practice but Mydol never released one. So, you know what happened? Siren's leaked it! Real EXO-L style, no one knows how the Noah fansite did it but...She did what she had to do! Great way to end the era!

[munson-blurbs]

Howdy Ho 👋

Pretty please 🙏🏻 could I request:

Snickers

Kit-Kat

Eddie Munson

Could be 18+ if the mood so takes you, but not essential 😁

You: could be 18+ Me: ooh, they're gonna fuck

Forced Proximity/Artist!Reader/Eddie Munson

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotective p in v (wrap it up), kind of enemies-to-lovers but Eddie is basically just a menace,

WC: 832

Divider credit to @saradika

You usually like to do your drawing alone, either in complete silence or the sound of the radio playing lowly in the background. Something soft and melodic that allows you to envelop yourself in your creativity. 

In essence, the exact opposite of the heavy metal blasting throughout the classroom as Eddie Munson sings along.

“Do you have headphones or something?” you ask him, wincing as a guitar riff pierces your ears. 

He shakes his head. “Broken.” One word, and then he’s back to washing paint brushes.

You sigh, trying to maintain your attention on the sketch in front of you. Your pencil glides across the page, while you stay hunched over the table. The face that you’re drawing is starting to take shape, looking less like a blob and more like a–

“TIME MARCHES ON! FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS!” Eddie’s obnoxious voice shatters your concentration, and you look over at him with a glare. He’s using a brush as a makeshift microphone, blissfully unaware of the irritation he’s causing you. Or maybe he simply doesn’t care.

“Okay, seriously?” You slam your pencil down, nearly breaking it in two. “Do you have to be here right now?”

Eddie nods slowly. “Uh, yeah. Apparently, manual labor is going to teach me ‘respect,’ or whatever.” He rolls his eyes, and you can’t blame him. It seems like he’ll never learn how to be a decent human being.

“Well, some of us need to focus,” you snap, hands balled into fists. “So, if you would kindly shut up…”

“I’ve never shut up a day in my life,” he chortles, turning off the faucet and flicking water from his fingers in your direction. “And I’m not gonna start now.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Oh, really?” One foot in front of the other, making your way to him. 

“Mhm. In fact, now that I know it pisses you off so much, I’m—oomph!”

His retort is cut short by you pressing your lips to his, effectively silencing him. His palm instinctively rests against your cheek, the other gripping your waist as he deepens the kiss. 

Wordlessly, he positions you so you can hoist yourself atop the closest table. Your fingers comb through his tangled curls before dropping down to his belt, fumbling with the buckle. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie breaks the kiss with a laugh. “You shut me up, okay? No need for all of this.”

You shrug. “What if I want to?”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Like, here? Now?” He breaks out into a goofy grin when you nod in response. “Well, shit, yeah!”

He unbuttons your jeans in record time before starting on his own. You wriggle out of your pants, showing off where a wet patch is forming on your cotton panties. Eddie sees this and exhales, smile growing wider. 

“Prettiest girl in the goddamn school, all wet for little old me?”

Your hand grazes the waistband of his boxers. “Doesn’t seem little,” you purr, tongue gliding over your lips. “Mind if I see for myself?”

Eddie swallows thickly, his bravado quickly fading. “Y-Yeah. I mean, no, I don’t mind.” He moans as you tug down his underpants, exposing a full-blown erection. Pre-cum pools at the tip, resting against his wiry pubic hair. 

You spit on it, saliva trickling down the shaft as your hand follows close behind. He twitches in your grasp, throwing his head back in ecstacy. 

After you pump his cock a few times, he takes it from you, tapping the head against your clit before running it through your labia. He looks at you with wide, wondering eyes. 

“Please. Need you.” It’s all you can manage, but it’s all Eddie needs to hear. He moves your panties out of the way and pushes into you, gently until he bottoms out. Guiding your hips forward, he begins thrusting, groaning with each snap of his hips. 

Strings of barely coherent words fall from his lios. “Tight—warm—fuck—mmm—s’good.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, biting your lip to muffle your own sounds. Eddie shakes his head and uses his thumb to free your lower lip from under your teeth. 

“Wanna hear you, baby.” 

The same thumb that was just on your mouth is soon on your clit, rubbing fast circles that have you crying out his name. 

“Eddie, r-right there, shit.”

You clench around him as you come, a vice grip on his dick. He spills into you moments later, unable to hold back any longer. 

“Holy Christ, what the fuck was that?” Eddie breathes as he withdraws, tucking his softening length back into his boxers. 

“That was me shutting you up.” You fix your own underwear and re-button your jeans. “And if you can be quiet for the rest of the afternoon, I’ll blow you.”

He says nothing in response, just mimes zipping his lips, and turns back to the remaining dirty paint brushes. 

Now, your only distraction is the thought of how good he’ll taste on your tongue. 

--

[pandorasfavorite]

Get Out Of There

AN: Yo I just wanted to make a short drabble but I had to make a gif. My punishment is an even smaller drabble

---------------------------------------

Every relationship has rules and the rules for you and Dominik were the same.

Always communicate

Be respectful to one another

and don't talk to no body that will get you in trouble

The third rule applies to many different situations, like Dominik or you shouldn't get involved with anyone that may cause problems for your career. That is a person that would get you in 'trouble'. But mainly in this relationship that meant don't go around fucking with anyone else or talking to any other woman/man for no reason.

Of course, some people didn't apply, but a person that you didn't like...such as Cathy was a huge no-no. You have told Dominik a few times how much she ticks you off and also that he should avoid her as much as possible. Dominik is loyal to the core, quite literally other women don't even cross his mind. But here comes Cathy trying to pick his brain about his losing match and his relationship. That's something you'd hate.

"Excuse me, Dominik? Can we get a word?", she says in her high-pitched voice that always makes your head ring. Dominik sighs and looks away attempting to ignore her, he is pressing the elevator button so hard it may jam. She stands there beside him waiting, pressuring him with a microphone and camera. "I'm kinda in a hurry right now", he says putting his hand up, still glancing at the elevator periodically.

"What could've changed out there that would've gotten you that victory?", he rolls his eyes and grimaces at the reminder. Cathy is making it even harder to be around, MIND YOU he shouldn't be around her anyway. "Obviously mami being by my side- Where is this elevator?!", he presses the button harshly again frantically. Cathy starts looking at the camera as if she is offended, which she should be considering Dominik wasn't worried about her feelings.

Finally the elevator doors open and Dominik is the first to rush in and find a corner to stand in. He puts his hand on his face and takes it down quickly, but in reality, he is trying not to get incredibly annoyed by this woman. As she is talking and berating him with questions Dominik is looking for any way to escape, he even pushes on the elevator walls. She keeps asking him questions and Dominik goes back to the sliding doors of the elevator, "Actually I don't wanna-". Dominik has clearly changed his mind about catching a ride.

She asks him yet another question, "Are we done here? Are you done?", Dominik asks but he isn't truly waiting on an answer. He turns to the man sitting in the elevator, "We almost there good sir?", the guy just nods at Dominik. Dominik restrains himself from letting out a sigh of relief. Cathy only gets closer and more pushy for Dominik to answer her questions until Dominik essentially snaps. "My wife doesn't like me talking to you, and I don't like it either", he asserts when the elevator doors open. "Thanks, Cathy", he says sarcastically when he walks past the doors of the hall and finally away from the prodding woman.

After Dominik gets home and showers, he goes to find you in bed lying on your side. You turn over and smile at the familiar feeling of Dominik's weight joining the bed, you lay on your back and look over at him, "Hey baby, how was work? Sorry I had to call in today", you ask him with that soft smile that was reserved for him. Dominik's face turns into a small cute frown at the mention of his day and he lays down on the bed. He slips his arm under your head and pulls you closer into his chest, "Cathy followed me into the elevator and kept asking me questions', he recalled and told you immediately. Being transparent was your favorite thing.

Dominik could've sworn he seen your eyes go dark at the mere mention of her name. "She did what?", you ask in a unruly tone. Dominik kisses the side of your temple in hopes for you to relax and to not take this too seriously. "She was poking at me about the match earlier", he said nonchalantly while playing with strands of your hair. "Well don't worry babe, I'll see her tomorrow", you said in a sweet tone, patting his hand that feel over your shoulder from the position.

Dominik sits up a bit in his spot looking down at you, "Mi Amor no. It's not worth it, I told her off", he reassures you and kisses the corner of your lips. You sit and contemplate how mad you really are. And yeah you're mad, but being with Dominik softens it up a bit. You purse your lips and simply nod, leaning up to peck Dominik's lips before going back to laying on his arm and partially on his chest.

[codenamesazanka]

What do you fear the most that mhas epilogue will do and make sure to list your other fears too

Oh god.

I think my biggest fear is Deku going to visit Spinner, and Spinner will validate his ignorant, arrogant, unheroic ass. Whether it's 'Thank you for trying to save Shigaraki' or 'Sorry Tenko stayed being Shigaraki for me and the League instead of giving in to you' or 'Wow, you really are the true hero Stain saw' or 'I see that Shigaraki has entrusted his will on you, so I will cheer you on from now on'.

Of course, a Spinner who validates Deku and essentially surrenders to the Heroes' way of doing things is only a symptom of a much bigger problem that is "Silly League of Villains, Heroes were right all along, save for some tiny mistakes, and now it's time to repent and assimilate" - an overall epilogue where nothing actually changes except some people learn to feel pity and vows to be nicer. So I guess that's my true, core fear. But it's manifesting in Spinner turning into a Deku groupie. Yeah, why not befriend the guy who killed your actual friend and believe in his way of doing things that got your friend killed.

-

Another Spinner fear I have is actually Spinner becoming a 'true' spokesman for the Heteromorphs - less because he doesn't deserve it, more because it's likely that it means his 'stance' has gone to Shouji level and he's telling everyone to not be like him and instead work harder to brave being sprayed by pesticides and endure bullying. So, fear of Spinner being tokenized (again) and becoming a Shoji-like kind of Heteromorph advocate.

Like, I've always thought Spinner's 'fix' was that he should be allowed to be entirely mediocre and be treated right. Put another way, he's not obligated to be exceptional in order to deserve basic decency/proper treatment. Even the worst, most selfish, resentful, weak-quirk, intelligence D, League of Legends gamer loser you know shouldn't be subjected to fantasy racism, because no one should. If he's an advocate, he's an advocate for the losers of the heteromorphs - the weaklings, the delinquents, the criminals? But that's not a very inspiring message! Instead, Heteromorphs should shine bright - and that's the message the manga and Shouji is giving.

Also like, there's no way the new powers that be will let him near a microphone without being declawed - last time he did so, he literally started a riot. There's no way they let him talk about his true feelings - that he was empty; that with the hundreds of Heroes on TV, none gave him hope for change; that it took a most outcasts-of-outcasts Villain team for him to ever feel accepted.

Spinner being an 'advocate' I think would be more him being a cautionary tale - "don't be like me, I'm a Villain and I'm stuck in Tartarus 2.0 for life; you can fight for your rights but not like I did!" He deserves better than that. Heteromorphs deserve better than that.

My other fears

Shigaraki stays dead

Shigaraki comes back but as five-year-old Tenko, so that Heroes can 'raise him properly' to be a Hero

We learn Toga died

We learn Dabi died but Endeavor lived

We never see the MLA ever again

We don't get more Compress backstory

Moonfish gets executed

Gran Torino doesn't die

Hawks being relevant

Hawks still facing no satisfying consequences for killing Twice

Twice being remembered by no one except his killer who's still vaguely mournful about his death but it was for the greater good, he really did think Bubaigawara was a decent guy

HPSC revived

No mention of anything being done about the HATE CRIMES AGAINST CHILDREN in the countryside. Shoji's 'let's shine bright' was it.

Quirk Counseling not completely revised

Aizawa and Mic still basically cursing out Shigaraki for stealing Shirakumo from them and not realizing Kurogiri/Shirakumo genuinely cared about the kid

No one bringing up how fucked up Iron Maidens and Tartarus is.

Tartarus 2.0 is back and everything is exactly the same but the wardens are nicer because they went through sensitivity training

That ending where the manga fast toward 12 years and everyone is in extremely heterosexual marriages with children. Part of this means teenaged Kouta and Eri are hinted to be crushing on each other or something. god.

[fraugwinska]

Chapter 8 - Evaluation

Evaluation (noun) 1. an act or instance of appraising 2. a diagnosis or diagnostic study of a physical or mental condition

Tags & Warnings: Mildy Sexual Tension, Abusive Behaviour

Alastor had sat down on your wing back chair, crossing his legs, cane twisting in his hands.

You had remained silent, sitting down on the bed, head dropped in shame, fingers tightly entwined and awaiting his scolding. With a swift gesture, his shadows swished over your room door, essentially a safety measure he always did when he didn't want to be disturbed, soundproofing the room and locking it.

Shit. Now it was serious.

“I must say, you've put on quite a show this morning, what a spectacle.”

Breathe. You didn't dare to say anything. You couldn't. There was no excuse. You shot a glace in his direction, his head was slightly tilted, watching you, predator eyeing prey. Your ears flattened on your head, twitching with anxiety. His long claws caressed the staff of his cane as it turned in his hands. Behind him, you thought you'd seen Ozul, nervously shifting around.

“Now, now, why are we looking like a cat on a hot tin roof?”

You lifted your eyes, barely. “I'm... I apologize for disappointing you, Alastor.”

“Disappointing me? Au contraire, I'm ecstatic, my dear, overjoyed even! What a fitting new power you've shown, it was a marvelous sight to see!”

Eyes wide, you sat yourself up a bit.

“You are... not angry with me?”

Alastor laughed, waving his hands and giving you a half-lidded, mocking smile. “Of course not. You've accomplished more with that little demonstration than I hoped for.”

He leaned forward, hands resting on his microphone. “Not only have you proven to be quite the enchanting performer – singing yourself right in the hearts of our lovely acquaintances with that sentimental ballad. You've also garnered much sympathy, for the both of us, might I add.”, his voice turned impishly gleeful. “Everyone was so worried after you fainted, a poor, little weak kitten – only to be rescued by her concerned employer, carrying her limp body to her room, not wanting to leave her side. Ah, what a display, you should've seen the looks on the princesses face!”, he chuckled darkly.

“It couldn't have gone better, even if I planned it.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. So he used the situation to manipulate it to his advantage... which was.. kind of a genius move. You might have screwed up, but it had also given him an opportunity to look like 'the good guy'. Huh.

“That's... good then...?”, you asked quietly, lifting your ears just a bit.

Alastor grinned, claws stretching over his microphone.

“Indeed, darling. Better than good.”

Better than good. The edges of your lips tightened into a faint, almost hidden smile.

You did better than good.

Thank fucking satan.

A sudden sound startled you, Alastor had risen from the chair and walked over to you, stopping right in front of you, grinning softly. He reached his hand out and without a second thought, you put your own in his. Your neck tingled hot when his fingers wrapped them around yours, lifting you up and pulling you gallantly into the middle of your room.

“Now, let's discuss that magnificent power of yours, my darling kitten.” He let go of your hand, rounding you while he spoke, tone low and suave – it sent shivers down your back, making your tail puff up slightly. Oh for the love of – get a grip of yourself!

“It seems your abilities harness their energy from your emotions. Which puts you in quite a conundrum. We both know how protective you are of them, aren't you?”

His fingers brushed lightly over your neck, redness shooting up instantly. You nodded, focusing on calming yourself. But it felt so nice...

“As much as I admire self control, it would be a waste not to culture your power because of self-imposed, overcautious reservations.”

He was back in front of you again, lifting his cane to place his microphone under your chin, forcing you to lift your head up to look into his eyes, so full of insidious delight. Your eyes have blown wide, not being able to avert your gaze. You hoped he didn't mean what you thought he meant.

“You shouldn't be at the mercy of your emotions, kitten, no no no, that won't do. Instead, you shall learn how to use them to our advantage, to dominate them. And I will be by your side every step of the way, guiding you there.”

You shuddered, partly out of fear to lose control again, partly because of the sheer intensity of his voice ringing in your ears. He acted weird, out of his modus operandi, out of everything you've learned about him, and that actually scared you. That's what that feeling was, right? For the first time since you landed in hell, you didn't know how to adjust to his behavior. With a drumming heart, you suppressed the tremble in your voice as you spoke. You couldn't question him. You wouldn't.

“Whatever you see fit, I'll do.”

“That's the spirit, darling.” He hummed, retrieving his cane and vanished it in thin air, a contemplating, toothless smile on his lips as he tilted his head at you, thinking. Deciding.

”I want to indulge in a little experiment, my dear, if you could entertain me?”

You nodded, holding your breath. His static licked over your whole body in response, drizzling over your shoulders down the back to your feet. He bared his teeth in a devilish smirk.

“Lovely.” He suddenly melted into shadows, just to materialize behind you.

“Just stay right where you are. And do tell me if you wish to stop.”

Before you could even process what he said, you felt lingering fingers caressing the back of your head. Sharp digits scraping unknown patterns down your spine, light as a feather but burning as a hot iron. You fought a gasp of pleasure, tensing against the touch.

You felt hot breath on your ear “Relax, (Y/n), don't fight it, just feel. You can do that, right?”

Your tail quivered at it's tip, you felt your face burning up at the thought of him noticing.

“Yes.” was all you could manage to say. What else could you say?

You felt his fingers traveling further down, his static thick in your ears, muffling your raging thoughts. What had gotten into him, into you, what the hell happened? You felt tingly all over, itchy in your own skin as his hands slowly brushed over your sides to your thighs, earning a heartbreaking shudder. You barely remembered the last time you were touched , much less like this. Who had you been with? A faceless, amateurish nobody. Not worthy of remembering the name. None of the men you had been with had been so remarkable as to entertain them more than one time. And none of them had ever been this sensual threatening while caressing you. You felt your head fall back inevitably, a smile tugged desperately at the edges of your lips. You felt your limbs, your torso, your everything just getting so god damn hot.

And if felt so deliciously good.

“ȶɦǟȶ'ֆ ɨȶ... ʝʊֆȶ ǟ ʟɨȶȶʟɛ ʍօʀɛ, ӄɨȶȶɛռ... ”

(That's it... just a little more, kitten...")

His voice sounded distorted, hot, dark, rumbling, sultry dangerous. You felt him pull you closer, felt the warmth of his body, your head only says I want this Do I want this?

You felt his claws digging into you hips, sweet sharp pain, you were ready to beg for more to burst, ready to...

🅺🅽🅾🅲🅺

🅺🅽🅾🅲🅺

🅺🅽🅾🅲🅺

Alastor was furious.

Furious about the princesses absolutely disastrous, unfailing, unwarranted, timing.

Furious about how close they came, so unnervingly close to getting one of her little copies to come out

Most of all, he was absolutely seething that he almost lost his own composure.

He could see the echoes of her bright, rosy light still pulsing around her. The second the knocks stopped, he snapped out of it, retreated his hands and melted into smoke, recalling his shadows from the door and joining them in the darkest corner of her room.

She, on the other hand, looked dangerously undone. Breathing hard, skin flushed with such an appealing tint of pink, faint quivers rushing through her body. A pretty little mess.

“One moment, Charlie. I'm indecent.”

She said with an unexpected, clear and steady voice. She took a shaky step forward, placing both hands on her dresser, leaning against it and taking deep, long breaths, her eyes closed, brows knitted tightly together. He stalked her with morbid curiosity, watched her every move, every reaction.

She ran her hands over her face and pushed her hair back, staring at her mirror image. Her eyes, a moment ago blown wide and diluted, had eased back, heavy lidded and dulled. Her mouth stayed shut in a soft frown. She stared at herself for a long moment, pure willpower forcing her skin to pale down. Alastor couldn't help but admire her ability to put her protective mask on, so quick and flawlessly, as if he taught her.

She rolled her shoulders back, turned with a last glance at the mirror and opened the door.

“Sorry for making you wait, Charlie.”

“Don't worry about it. Hey, you look much better! You even got some color on you!”

His kitten, waved her hand non-nonchalantly, her face unreadable. “I told you a good hot shower would do the trick.”

The princess giggled, took her hand and pulled her with her down the hall.

Alastor materialized again at the end of the dark hallway by the ballroom, making sure no one was near to see him. He straightened his jacket and pulled his shirt tight angrily.

It had almost worked. Almost.

One word he truly hated.

He swished his hair back, irritated, and blinked. Alas, at least he found out that his plan hadn't been fruitless. (Y/n) could be triggered, she was able to tap into the source of her energy, and that was progress, despite this little... setback. He scowled.

How he had wanted to see it in front of him, touch the jeweled duplicate himself, touch that power and analyze it.

There would be another chance. Another time.

His smile widened. Yes, his idea had been fruitful. He had suspected that most emotions would be hard to trigger in his dear servant – she would resist greatly to show real anger, for example, joy and fear were also too challenging. Yet.

He had contemplated harnessing sadness. That would have been easy enough, using her memories of her mother. But Alastor had chosen against it. He was cruel, true. But this was even outside of his own twisted moral code.

Not the mother.

Lastly, he decided for an emotion that was as easy to trigger as it was mostly caused by unconscious stimuli, and delightfully alien to him.

Lust.

Inspired also by her unusual, interesting reactions to his proximity lately.

It had been so interesting to see her react to him.

To see her flush at his touch.

To smell the changes in her scent.

ʟɨӄɛ աǟȶɛʀ ɨռȶօ ǟʍɮʀօֆɨǟ

(Like water onto ambrosia)

His shadows buzzed agitated, except for one. He glared at Ozul, who had attached himself to his feet, fizzing lowly. He scoffed at him.

The flow of energy had surprised him, he had to give that credit. It had been unexpectedly powerful, tempting to just bite down and taste it. That had been the reason he lost grip on his form, slipping slightly. Hunger. Now he knew – it wouldn't happen again.

He quickly stepped along the corridor to the bar. Better to be seen than to be questioned.

“Husker my friend!”, he exclaimed cheerfully, flourishing onto a bar stool.

The cat demon growled, scrunching away from him. So rude.

“Will you be a lamb and pour me some whiskey, my chum?”

“If you shut the fuck up.”

“Ahaha, always the riot, Husker.”

He took great joy from seeing his servant begrudgingly open a bottle of Brimstone's Best Bourbon. The glass was half filled, Husker did a sloppy job at pouring on purpose, but Alastor didn't waste energy on such trivialities.

“Thank you, good man.” Alastor sipped the brown liquid. Brimstone's always had such a nice aroma of oak, spices and hot ash.

Husk growled, opening himself a bottle of the cheapest booze, murmuring silent curses at him. Which didn't fall out of the ordinary, but Alastor had seen the shadows over his companions eyes, and he knew the look too well.

“My, my, aren't we especially spicy ourselves today?” he mocked, chuckling while he took another sip. “Care to share what's been eating you, my furry fellow?”

Husk took a big swig out of the bottle, slamming it hard onto the bar.

“Jus' pissed off 's what I am. Guess I didn't think even you'd stoop so low.”

The cat demon, swiped his mouth with a clawed paw, greenish streaks still tracing down to his chin. Alastor snickered at this brazen display.

“ Funny, I didn't realize there was a height requirement for your expectations of me, Husker.“

“Crack yo' stupid jokes, boss. But I know what yo' doin'.”, Husk snarled, baring his teeth in disgust at him. He felt his smile twitching.

“And what exactly am I doing, f r I e n D ?”, Alastor lowered his voice, letting him hear just enough threat to not being able to be picked up by anyone. His patience was wearing thin, especially after the unfortunate disruption from before. With satisfaction he saw Huskers ears slightly flatten on his head.

“Usin' that poor kid you brought in.” the cat demon huffed, his fur puffed up. Alastor rewarded his statement with a disparaging scoff.

“Can't fool everyone with that bullshit story o'yours – fresh sinner, just stumblin' in front of the big bad fuckin' radio demon, no power, no nuthin', and yo' hirin' her on the spot. Outta yo' god damn goodness of yo' heart?” The creature had the audacity to sneer at him. His claws dug into the bar, leaving deep grooves behind.

“Yo' better hope an' pray the princess and her guard dog don' find out yo' made a deal with a fuckin' morta..”

“ɨ ȶɦɨռӄ ȶɦǟȶ'ֆ զʊɨȶɛ ɛռօʊɢɦ.”

(I think that's quite enough.")

His hand had shot to Huskers neck, catching his throat. He squeezed, hard enough for the cat to get the message, light enough not to leave visible marks behind. Alastor hated to get so unrefined, but he had no tolerance left. Not today. His shadows hummed hungrily around him, waiting, longing for his command.

“Let's keep such V i l E and u N n e c C e S s a R y speculations to ourselves, shall we?”

With a final squeeze, he let Husker fall down. He coughed, fear flashing in his eyes as he crouched away from him. Mhm. Better.

“We wouldn't want to offend our newest member, wouldn't we. That poor kitten would be devastated if she knew what you thought about her...”, Alastor laughed, finishing his whiskey and standing up. “Don't worry, my dear Husker, our conversation will be our little secret.”

He walked away, now with a little pep in his step, feeling a bit lighter now that he got some steam off. But he still curled his lips when heard the bartenders mumble, even if it was only to himself.

“At least he doesn't fuck the poor girl.”

<< Previous Chapter - Next Chapter >>

[stromulites]

List of Stuff for BJ and more Unsolicited Lore, plus the playlist.

I fucked up on the poll so i'll just post both of them wkelrnksdg. Also since it's in no particular order and my adhd's being a little Prick, it's kind of a mess. If it retreads old ground, hopefully it's giving more context to it and not just repeating the same thing. Playlist will be at the end H

~ Retains heat pretty well. If he was sunbathing for an extended period of time, he’d probably hold that temp for 3-4 hours before he returned back to room temp. Can get above normal human body temps this way.

~ Uses his wings to make himself look more imposing. Usually this ends badly since it’s most certainly an indoors conversation, and those things don’t fit indoors usually.

~ Is constantly worried he isn’t that great to hug/be in physical contact with since he’s cold all the time and what-not. Because of this he usually won’t initiate physical affection unless he just finished sunbathing or something.

~ Can, in fact, turn into a bird. A blue jay to be specific. All reapers can do this as it’s most cost effective to interact with the real/physical world this way. This does not mean they act like the birds they disguise themselves as though.

~ Currently is holding onto Grayson’s coat for them, after Sebastian finally gave it to him after getting tired of the constant Theft. Doesn’t wear it often because it feels weird, but does privately or to feel more secure.

~ Since it’s warm and kind of heavy, it relieves some of the dysmorphia from being room temperature all the time and weighing almost nothing due to being a ghost basically (21g normally). Wearable weighted blanket essentially.

~ Doesn’t know IDU!pico that well at this point, but doesn’t have a good impression of him. Mostly because Pico tried to kill him once, but since his face was covered BJ doesn’t know what he looks like. Only that he’s familiar and probably hates him by the way he keeps glaring holes into his back.

~ Doesn’t sleep often (doesn’t need to) since he most definitely will have nightmares about his death. Most Reapers make peace with it at some point, but since his death was so violent and emotionally charged, it’s unlikely he’ll let it go anytime soon. 0% chance to make him talk about it either unless he's in a breakdown or something.

~ That being said, being warm/in a place with people he knows and likes will make him doze off. Snores loudly. Sleeps like a brick when he doesn’t dream. Good luck waking him up when he’s not dreaming.

~ Still can sing, he doesn’t do it anymore on account of his lungs being Fucked and fried from smoke inhalation. Has traded this off to focus more on his guitar skills whenever he can. He does miss it though, and is easily carried away when he does feel better.

~ What he doesn’t know is that the coughing is more of a psychological effect of his death, and if he’s really into something, he won’t cough at all.

~ If he likes you well enough, he will start giving you his own feathers (the smaller ones from his blue jay form). Usually in the form of keychains/charms he put together himself, but sometimes he’ll give just the feathers.

~ All Reapers have a ‘Reaper’s Cane’. BJ’s is a microphone stand/looks like one without the microphone. He has taken to using it to great effectiveness as a blunt weapon.

~ Made a promise to Hannah a long time ago when they meet by coincidence as children. Immensely guilty that he broke it and left her alone for two years without any other friends/support. Has a new promise to himself to be there when she eventually does die, no matter what the cause would be.

~ The most Chronic of Worriers, but only in regards to people he loves/is close to. If he doesn't know you well and you snip at him, he will snip back and escalate. This will result in a fistfight where BJ strikes first if it's not broken up.

~ On the other hand, he enjoys sitting around and watching other people go about their business. Parallel play :)

~ Cannot cook, please don't ask him to do that. He hasn't touched a stove in two years and has a fear of fire. He will turn your Biscuits to Charcoal Briquettes and Cower when it catches fire.

~ Theoretically would be able to carry someone in flight, but just one occupant and probably not anywhere in his home dimension/timeline. Probably no set weight limit for that person? Just don’t expect him to carry an entire truck or whatever lmao.

~ Was initially nervous to leave Hannah alone for rgbfverse stuff, but Grayson pushed him to go. Both to give Hannah a breather, and so that BJ can unwind and not worry about her for a bit. It can’t be healthy to stress over this one detail for days on end, can it?

And here's the playlist lmao. I'll add to both lists whenever I have an Idea or listen to a song that fits.