#I NEED TO CUT MY HAIR SHORT AND DYE IT I NEED TO THROW OUT EVERYTHING FEMININE I OWN I NEED TO GET DYKIER AND MORE MASC RIGHT NOW

[dykeofmisfortune]

hey girls did u know that um. (bruce springsteen voice) I WANNA CHANGE MY CLOTHES MY HAIR MY FACE

#transgender bruce springsteen moment

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you for your patience as I got wrapped up writing everything but this. I knew this chapter would be a tough one, so I kept putting it off. But I hope you all enjoy it. If you haven't been paying attention, this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. It's still 2016/1966.

Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m receiving) masturbation, use of sex toys, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, and angst.

Word count: ~3.5k

"Yes."

******

You've taken a short leave of absence from work because of everything you've been going through, so you get to spend the next few weeks just having fun with Elvis.

And that's exactly what you do. It drives him crazy that all his money is back in 1966 and he can't buy you a ring, but otherwise you're very happy together. Luckily, your job pays well, so you don't have to worry about that much. You offer to buy your own ring, but he refuses to let that happen. Instead, he gives you his watch to wear and insists he's going to get a job.

"I think I'd like to apply for the police academy." He says shyly over dinner one night.

"That sounds like a great idea! We need to find a way to get you a social security card, though. We can't use anything that says you were born in 1935."

"I didn't even think about that."

"It's okay. I have a former client that might be able to help us."

And sure enough, knowing criminals pays off. You manage to get a birth certificate that says he was born in '85 and use that to get him the rest of his credentials. Everything is going well when you go back to work. He gets a short-term job at Guitar Center just for something to do before he applies for the academy. Secretly, he loves it. He learns a lot from the kids he works with and before too long he's an expert in everything in the store. It's strange to admit it, but he's enjoying just being "John" and not having to be Elvis Presley.

One day, he looks in the mirror and almost has a heart attack. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist.

"What is it, babe?"

"My hair. It's growing out. And turning light again." You can tell this bothers him. And that he refuses to acknowledge the grays that are mixed in.

"Well, get it cut. We do still have barber shops in 2016."

"I will. But the color..."

"I'll dye it." He looks at you curiously.

"You can do that?"

"Of course. I've done my own before. Black is easy." You shrug and he smiles.

Next thing you know, he's sitting on a chair in the bathroom with a towel around his neck and you're wearing gloves and squirting black hair dye onto his head. Keeping him still is damn near impossible and you wonder how he managed this in the '60s. When you reach the point where he's just waiting, you have to read to him to keep him from flipping hair dye all around the bathroom. He sits still when you produce a philosophy book that was written in the last fifteen years. When the timer goes off, he wants you to keep reading, but you'll have to come back to it later. You rinse his hair and put him in the shower and he makes you get in too. It doesn't take long for him to enter you from behind and fuck you silly in the shower. You ignore yet another portal and dry his hair with the blow dryer. He looks in the mirror to inspect your work.

"Not bad, honey. Thanks."

"You're welcome." You reach up and tussle his hair since it doesn't have anything in it yet. He grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom.

This is what it's like when you're together. Everything is foreplay and you live for the moments you spend with each other. Now, you have your fair share of little arguments, but it's never something that you can't overcome and talk your way through. In fact, you talk a lot, all the time, and that's what keeps you together. There are no secrets and everything is a conversation. This is out of character for both of you, but something about your relationship brings out the best in both of you and you thrive as a couple. Even the boring days are happy for you.

******

"Babe, can you grab my phone charger? It's on my nightstand." You ask Elvis as he's coming back from the bathroom to the couch one afternoon.

"Sure, hon. What does it look like?" He calls from the bedroom. You stifle a laugh. Of course he wouldn't know. Sometimes you forget he's out of place here in 2016.

"It's like a long cord with a little box on the end that plugs into the wall." After a few minutes you start to think he's having trouble finding it, so you decide to help. You get up and walk into the bedroom. He's standing there in front of your nightstand with the top drawer open.

"You okay?" You ask tentatively.

"Yeah, I just. Honey, what are these?" He gestures to the things inside the drawer and you blush.

"Oh, um, those are... toys... but not for kids..." You walk up next to him and look at your collection of vibrators and dildos in the drawer.

"Toys?" He looks at you with an intrigued look on his face.

"Yeah. For... well, for sex." His eyes go wide and he looks back at the contents of the drawer. Then, he looks back at you with a look somewhere between sheepish and mischievous.

"How do they work?"

"Well..." You take them out and lay all four of them in a line on the bed. "This one is just a vibrator. It vibrates and you put it on the clit. This one is too, but it also goes inside." You continue down the line describing each toy and he nods along like a good little student. When you get to the rabbit, his eyes go even wider.

"What is that?"

"This is called a rabbit." You turn it on so he can see how it moves.

"Whoa."

"Yeah. The bunny ears go on your clit and vibrate and this part-" You point to the dildo part.

"I think I know where that part goes." He chuckles and you laugh a little too. You turn the rabbit off and put it back on the bed, waiting for him to say something.

"Why do you have so many?"

"Babe, I'm a woman in the 21st century. I have needs."

"Oh!" He laughs and blushes slightly.

"And honestly, this is a pretty modest collec-"

"Can we try one?" He interrupts you and you look up at him to find his eyes sparkling with curiosity and something else entirely.

"You want to try one?" He bites his bottom lip and looks at the toys and then back at you.

"Yeah. Can we?"

"We can do whatever you want, babe."

"Then actually I wanna try two." You suppress a smile. He's so excited and it's cute when he's like this.

"Which two?" He grabs the first vibrator and then hesitates.

"Fuck it. I'm curious." He grabs the rabbit and you put the other two back in the drawer. You lay down on the bed and he undresses you carefully. When you go to take his shirt off, though, he stops you.

"Oh no, honey, I just wanna play with you."

"Ohhhh." You lay back on the bed and he finishes taking the rest of your clothes off. Once he's got you completely naked, he runs his hand from the middle of your chest down to your center.

"Are you excited for this baby? You're already wet for me."

"I am." You answer breathily as he slides a finger inside you. He hands you the vibrator.

"Show me how you use this one." You click it on to the speed that you like and then place it gently on your sensitive bud. Immediately, you throw your head back and moan.

"Wow." He says quietly under his breath.

"Mmmm." You can't make words with the intensity of the pleasure that's rushing through you. He continues to push his one finger in and out of you as you move the vibrator around on your clit and he watches in awe. When you come, hard, he looks up at you, surprised.

"Already?!" You feel yourself pulse around his finger as the orgasm washes over you, bathing you in exquisite pleasure. When you come back down, you pull the vibrator away and look down at him.

"Yeah. It happens fast."

"Can you do it again?"

"I can do it over and over as much as I want, really."

"Okay, this is my favorite thing from 2016." He grabs the vibrator and looks at it. Then, he turns it on and puts it back on you. After 3 more orgasms, you have to beg him to stop because you're so sensitive.

"I need a break, baby." You put your hand in his hair and try to gently pull him up to lay next to you on the bed, but he resists.

"I haven't even tried this one yet." He holds up the rabbit and you whimper. "You can do it, honey, show me how this one works for you."

You take the rabbit and slowly push it inside you. Then, you arrange the ears to be just where they need to be on your clit. You whimper again and he pushes the button to turn it on.

"Oh FUCK." You say it loudly and slam your hand on the bed and he laughs. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

He laughs again and starts to slowly move the rabbit in and out of you, mimicking what he would do with his cock. You come again, harder than you ever have, and try to pull back away from him and off of the rabbit, but he follows you and keeps pushing it in and out of you. By this point your whole body is shaking and covered in sweat. You know what's coming and you have to stop him before it happens.

"No no no! FUCK." You scream and pull the rabbit out as you come again, but this time when you pull the dildo out, you also squirt everywhere. And because of his position between your legs, his whole chest gets soaked. This is what you were trying to avoid. "OH MY GOD."

This might be the most embarrassed you've ever been, so you try to back away from him and curl into a ball, but Elvis just busts out laughing. He does the biggest laugh he's done since you've been together and rolls over on his back unable to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry." You cover your face with your hands and wish you could just disappear.

"You told me to stop and I didn't! I got what I deserved!" He continues laughing his big-joy laugh and then sits up, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Thats when he notices you trying to sink into the pillows. "Aw, honey, come here. You don't need to be embarrassed. C'mere."

He crawls over to you and wraps you in his arms, pressing his bare skin against yours.

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" You nod.

"Yeah, that's not the first time I've done it."

"You know, I've heard about it but I kinda always thought it was just an urban legend. I've never seen it myself until now. Looks like I was wrong!" He laughs again and you can't help but start to laugh with him. You relax in his arms and both of you lay there laughing together.

After a few minutes, he rolls into you and presses his erection into your thigh.

"Oh, no, you wore me out. You're gonna have to take care of that yourself." He whimpers and pouts, sticking out his bottom lip.

"Will ya just talk to me at least? And stay naked so I can look at ya."

"That I can do." He rolls onto his back and pulls his pants off so that he's naked too. He wraps his left hand around his cock and starts to stroke himself, gently moving his foreskin back and forth.

"Mmm. Talk to me baby." You roll over on your side and he looks down at your body as he pumps his dick.

"Imagine that I'm sucking your cock. I'm doing that thing you love where I pull the whole thing in my mouth and you hit the back of my throat."

"Mmm yes, baby, that's so good."

"And now I'm holding you back and licking a slow circle around the tip." When you say this, he rubs his thumb over the head of his cock and groans.

"What else, baby?"

"Now I'm gonna climb on top of you and fuck you with my tight little pussy."

"Goddamn, baby, you know I love your pussy." He closes his eyes and continues stroking his cock, picking up speed.

"I'm sliding up and down on top of you, taking you so deep, bouncing on you just like you like."

"Yes, fuck baby, mmmm."

"You like it when I lean against your chest and let you fuck me so hard from underneath?"

"God, yes, baby, I fuckin' love that. I'm gonna come." At the last second, you crawl between his legs and pull his cock into your mouth. "OH FUCK YES BABY!"

He comes hard into your throat and you suck it down, swallowing every last drop. You keep bouncing your mouth on him as he softens and he laughs and grabs your hair.

"Stop, baby, it's too sensitive!" You keep sucking him and he does a little scream. Finally, you pull off and look up at him.

"Oh, is it too much? You want me to stop?"

"Yes! Yes! Okay, you made your point!" He grabs you and pulls you into his arms and then rolls over, pinning you on the bed as you both laugh again. He starts peppering your face with kisses as you giggle.

"I love you, y/n." He stops and looks into your eyes, moving so that you're no longer pinned.

"I love you too, Elvis." He caresses the side of your face and then runs his thumb across your lips.

"I'm so glad I'm here."

"Me too." He pulls you to his chest and you lay there together, naked and wrapped in each other, both of you content to stay this way for the rest of your lives.

******

In May, Elvis has saved enough to buy you a perfectly respectable engagement ring. He assures you that you'd have at least 10 carats in 1966, but you love your 1/2 carat solitaire because you know how hard he worked for it.

By June, you're both tired of not being married, so you decide to load up and head to Vegas. At the airport, Elvis is totally perplexed by all the safety procedures to get on the plane. You sigh deeply and explain 9/11 to him. He's almost in tears by the end of your explanation and he's quiet for the first hour of the flight. Eventually, he comes to terms with the reality of what happened and he kisses you on the cheek and takes your hand.

"I'm excited to be your husband." He smiles and rubs small circles on the back of your hand. It reminds you of the time you went to breakfast in 2007 and the whole history of your relationship hits you like a ton of bricks. You haven't been together consistently, but you've been a part of each others' lives for almost ten years. And now you'll be together until the end. You sniffle and a single tear slides down your cheek.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He kisses the back of your hand.

"Nothing. I'm just so happy. I love you so much."

"I love you too, hon." The plane starts its descent and your heart flip flops with excitement that you'll be married to Elvis soon.

******

Your wedding is exactly what you'd expect from a Vegas chapel, but you're so in love that you don't care. All you see is each other.

That night, you get the honeymoon suite at a casino hotel and drink champagne and make love as many times as you can before you pass out in each other's arms. Overall, the whole experience will live forever in both of your memories as one of the best nights of your life.

The next day, you're laying on the couch in your suite enjoying room service and watching tv. You go to the bathroom and he flips the station to an entertainment news show. When you come back, he's absolutely enthralled and you look at the tv to see what it is.

It's Lisa Marie.

She's recently announced that she's getting a divorce, so she popped up in entertainment media again. You grab the remote and turn the tv off as fast as you can. Luckily, you catch it before they say too much.

"Who was that?"

"Who?"

"That woman. You know what I'm talking about. Her name is Presley. Who is she, y/n?"

"She's... she's your daughter." You know what her existence means for you. Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces and you wish more than anything that he hadn't seen her on tv.

"My daughter? How?"

"Elvis, you know how." He looks down at the floor and takes a deep breath. You slide onto the floor in front of him and put your hands on his knees. He looks into your eyes and you both start to cry.

"I have to leave."

"Please don't! God, Elvis, please don't leave me here without you." He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"I have to. I'm her father. I have to be her father."

"No! Elvis, please!" You know you're begging now as the tears run down your cheeks.

"I have to go now."

"Now?! Why now?"

"If I don't go now, I won't go." You grab his hand and put it on your cheek.

"Then don't." He stands up and walks away from you.

"Damnit, y/n, please don't make this harder than it already is!" He picks up the tv remote and throws it against the wall as hard as he can. "Goddamnit!"

You sit on the carpet weeping and rocking back and forth. He looks at you on the floor, his tortured heart evident on his face. He walks over to you and scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bed and holds you as you cry for an indeterminate amount of time.

When you finally calm down, he kisses your face down to your mouth. You pull away from him.

"You just want to make a portal."

He grabs your chin and makes you look into his eyes.

"Yes, I need a portal. But more than that, I want to make love to my wife. Because that's who you are. And I don't care who I marry that's that girl's mother. You are my wife and you always will be. In my heart, I am yours. Forever, honey. Forever." He kisses you again and you submit to him fully, letting him undress you as lovingly as possible. You hold him close to your body and kiss as much of his skin as you can reach. He pushes into you slowly and gently makes love to you with his head on your shoulder. By the end of it, you're both crying. He tries to push off his orgasm as long as possible, but eventually he has to give in. Both of your shoulders shake with sobs and you hold each other as close as you can for what you're pretty sure are your last moments together. The portal appears like it always does and he drags himself away from you to get dressed. Once he has all his clothes on, he grabs you and holds you so tightly it almost hurts. He whispers in your ear.

"Never forget that I belong to you, always. Know that for the rest of my life, I will love you and I will miss you." He presses his forehead to yours and kisses your lips one last time. "You are and always will be the love of my life. Goodbye, honey. I love you."

He walks away from you towards the portal, not letting go of your hand until the last possible second. He looks back at you one last time and then goes through the portal. You fall to the floor and sob out loud. When the portal disappears, you scream, "No!"

He's really gone. And now that he knows about Lisa, he's never coming back.

******

Three weeks later, you're back home. You sit in your bathroom and laugh hysterically. It's all you can do to keep from breaking down completely. You look down at it in your hand again.

It's positive.

You don't know how, but it is.

Somehow, you're pregnant with the child of Elvis Presley.

******

Come back for Chapter 11 soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11

[rainofthetwilight]

AND FINALLY HERE IS A SMALL MASTERPOST FOR THE HELLSPAWN WALKER SIBLINGS!!

I present to you, Jenna and Ethan :DD

(also since you asked to be tagged, @alizibtheterrible)

(pssst, here are the ref sheets for these kiddos)

-

before I get into anything, here are my timelines in this AU:

2 years between moto and season 11, atleast 5 months between s11 and s12, 5 more months between s12 and s13, 4 months between s13 and the island, a month between the island and s15, canonically a year between s15 and crystallized, 2 years between crystallized and the merge, 5 years between the merge and the events of DR

and jenna and ethan's ages during these times:

jenna: a year old during s11, almost two years old during s13, turned three a while after nya left, four during crystallized, six when the merge happened, and 11 in current time

ethan: a year old when the merge happened, and 6 in current time

I..know it's probably confusing, but I can attempt to explain more if you don't understand!

my fic for these two is currently being rewritten!!

and now, time to ramble abt the kids!! (warning, VERY long)

their full names are: Jenna Edna Lilly Walker and Ethan Ed Raymond Walker (you can guess who was named after who)

jenna was born just a year after moto, and ethan was born also a year after crystallized!

and from that, the age difference between them is 5 years

jenna inherits jay's powers, and ethan inherits nya's

ethan has ADHD and lacks good social skills due to being surrounded by only 2 people for most of his childhood, while jenna has anxiety, trust issues and some slight ptsd

oh and I can't forget to sprinkle the t r a u m a on them both

they have a good dynamic and bicker normally like siblings always do, but jenna sometimes needs to have her alone time and hates when anyone bothers her so she can snap at any time

while ethan is sensitive and cant control himself, especially if he sees someone distressed, but if he himself is the distressed one either no one should even come near him or he needs a genuiene hug or encouraging words from someone

I'm not sure when jenna will get her powers and will get her true potential, but until I figure it out, she gets her potential when she saw a certain someone in danger (kinda placeholder!!)

she didnt have control of her powers much at first, but would soon learn its abilities

and when ethan gets his powers, it doesn't go smoothly at all due to nya having been turned into the sea, so all the sudden power is..quite a painful experience without control

his true potential? realizing his worth and saving his sister from danger

I don't have exact birthdays for them yet, but the placeholders for now are may 23rd (jenna) and october 8th (ethan)

when they got a bit older, jenna decided to dye some streaks of her hair blue (and one time had a pixie cut), ethan didn't take any creative liberties with his hair but would sometimes style it when he's bored

jenna was named by jay, and while nya had wanted lilly she didnt mind and just she told him ''as long as you don't name her nya junior I won't throw you off a building"

lilly in the end was just given as a middle name

want a fun fact? jenna was the one that named ethan, the moment she saw him in his little blanket she just kept shouting "ethan! ethan!"

and jenna has a HUGE obsession for drawing and painting, while ethan likes cooking and is declared 'the gordon ramsey of the walkers* by jenna lmao

Jenna: dude please just open your own restuarant at this point Ethan: for the love of the fucking fsm Jenna-

jenna's special nickname is JJ! long story short, it was at first a shortened version of 'jay junior' that was actually a joke but then it became her actual nickname lmao

jenna is aroace and will go by she/they in the future, while ethan goes by he/him and will come out as bi!

jenna was attached to both her parents but felt closer to nya, especially after seabound

she'd watch her and jay in the sam x cave for ages

never remembering nya nor jay, ethan was wary of nya at first and tried to stay close to jenna but the moment she hugged him? he felt safe and knew it was right (shoot I'm kinda spoiling the reunion uhh)

jenna says she has no favourite uncle, but it's secretly cole and only he knows that

and she bullies kai, even when she's not ordered to do so by jay 👌

she does have a good bond with all of them tho!

jenna, in dragons rising, is 5'0 and will stay that height for a while until she hits a sudden growth spurt at 13 and is literally 5'6

and she'd be 5'9 at 16

happens with ethan aswell, he's only 6 so he's about 3'8 which is average for his age, but he'll keep growing taller and taller and he stops growing once he reached 5'8

The Forest Of Walkers(tm) as a moot of mine once quoted (we both hc jay to be very tall, finn I am looking at you)

and yes, that small part of the drawing of them walking is them in the future, I have no exact design yet and just wanted to throw that in bc of the free space lmao (I will post their future designs tho trust)

fun fact: when me and my friend were still planning what jenna and ethan would be doing after the merge, instead of staying with lloyd they had ended up with sora and arin

in this au, maya and ray are a tad closer to nya than they are in the actual show, they visit regularly to check on her, jay and jenna (soon ethan aswell)

both them and ed and edna SPOIL HER TO DEATH. they'd gladly take jenna any day

..which actually happened, seabound stuff :")

from the way all the ninja grieved, it was extremely lonely for a 3 almost 4 year old kid, especially with how everything happened so suddenly and how she can't yet process grief well, she only had cole who'd stay with her alot when she wasn't at her grandparents

even at their places it felt gloomy, but she loved to distract herself when she'd be in the junkyard by helping ed collect scraps and build with him (when her love of mechanism began)

and she loved to take walks with maya or ray at ignacia, or watch ray blacksmithing

it calmed her down a bit, but she knew something was still missing

edit: jay was also not in the best place after nya left, and wasn't able to spend time with jenna because she reminded him so much of nya, so he went to the lighthouse before he got too far

crystallized was..not the best experience either

because of spoilers and still planning out some more stuff, time to jump to post-crystallized

jenna grew much closer to nya, and had went to school 2 months after ethan was born!

she started in first grade, and was chaotic as fuck

she beat a kid in her class once just because he didnt like her drawings, obviously did not end well but she won and she was proud af 😎

during the timeskip after the merge, when ethan hit 4, lloyd would do some sort of homeschooling for him since he and jenna never left the monastery

Lloyd: okay, what's 5+6?

Ethan: 10!

Lloyd, trying not explode because he was so close:

I have so much more, but this is getting long af and I'm tired lmao

for my moots that are in the combined au, feel free to ramble in the tags aswell if u want to btw!! I wish I could too but I don't have the fuckin energy :'))

I may add on once I have the time and energy in the notes (or another post), but for now here's some info abt these hellspawns :"DD

[cadmusfly]

The Dragon "Marengo"

Worldbuilding Post 1

Worldbuilding Post 2

Soult’s ADCs snippet

Dragon Soult Studying + more

Worldbuilding about psionic powers

napoleonic marshalate dragons au chronological tag

The Consul's newest dragon steed was a strange one, even for the creatures as myriad in shape and size as dragons were. His pale scales shimmered with a pearlescent gleam that hinted at a hidden rainbow, and this was all accentuated with the gold and velvet draperies of the Consul's current official draconic escort. "Marengo is not so chatty with any but myself!" proclaimed the First Consul Napoleon Bonaparte. "So do not feel offended by his silence. But! His loyalty is not to be doubted, Murat." "Ah, my friend, I have absolutely no doubts about that," Joachim Murat said. He winked at "Marengo", observing idly the swirling depths of that large green eye staring back. A familiar voice said privately in Murat's mind, If you must ask, no, I did not choose this name. He originally gave it to his prized horse before deciding it would fit this form. I… am not sure it is my first choice. "We are a little acquainted, me and this 'Marengo'," Murat said, contemplatively. "A more loyal and brave beast you will not find! But he is quite a busy bird, with many commitments that force him to be unreliable." Jealousy does not suit you well, my friend, the dragon that was actually Bessières said to Murat with a hint of quiet amusement. Continued Murat, though with a bit of a laugh, "Are you sure he is fit to be your draconic consort?" "The position as I envision it," said Napoleon, "is a rotating one, to symbolise my friendship with the draconic French. Marengo will fill it as needed, with a few public appearances as necessary- so that his presence elsewhere will not be questioned." You don't need to worry about me, Murat, Bessières said. I do prefer to keep my time in this form to a minimum. But, I have offered my services to Napoleon and we agreed that the benefits of my instant apparition outweigh any risks to the both of us. So I will continue my duties both as human and as 'Marengo'. "As long as you know what you're doing, my friend," Murat said, and even he didn't know if he was talking to Napoleon or Bessières.

tiny bit of rambling about dragon Bessières and dragon shapeshifters under the cut

The transformation is magical so I'm leaning towards clothes just magically going somewhere and coming back but I haven't decided fully yet

Bessières usually has dark hair, but when he transforms back from a dragon it's streaked with light pale hair and slowly reverts to dark over time

Though this can be covered up by dye/powder/pomade, as a child his family dyed it dark and then he pomaded it white

But, and this is important, he doesn't actually powder his hair because he's a secret dragon. He still does it in that old fashioned way because he likes how it looks lol

If the dragon shapeshifter is seen while shapeshifting, they are trapped in that half-form, which often isn't viable for continued living.

Fortunately throwing a giant sheet over the whole process is probably enough, but Bessières usually does his transformations in a dark room where nobody is allowed under a sheet - if he's in Paris

I don't know if all dragon shapeshifters have a Secret Special Power or if the power is the same for all dragon shapeshifters or just unique to a "lineage", but Bessières has the power of what is described here as "instant apparition" but is more like... what dragons do in Pern

Basically he and his riders slip into this strange dreamlike dark place for a short period of time and then pop out where dragon Bessières has a strong mental image of

It's a lot faster than just flying there, but nobody wants to find out what happens if you stay in there for too long or if you get stuck there

Teleportation as a word was not invented then.

Bessières has to have been to the place before in order to magically appear there

Weird visions happen in the in-between place.

Can other dragons or humans learn to shapeshift? There's legends of that kind of thing happening. The Lindworm Prince is a pretty popular one.

Magic that isn't related to How Do Dragons Work does exist, but not in a... institutionalised or groundbreaking or effective way.

Yeah there's Bessimu here ;]

[meditativedeer]

autumn rules

embrace sad girl autumn with all your might seasonal depression is no match for my love of being cosy and joyful

source the softest thickest blankets ever I have a big green one wrapped around me right now

waking up in the pitch black for work or school? play evermore or folklore. I am not even a swiftie just trust me on this one ok

bedtime has never been more important - hot liquids and tv

find some broody academic creative outlet. I have returned to writing short films

this one is for my girlies who aren't in school right now; find a short course to do online preferably humanities subjects and sit in a coffee shop and STUDYY tis the season to be clever lalalalala

walking boots and raincoat and FOREST WALK bonus points if you bring a flask of tea or coffee

pumpkin carving I don't even think I need to say it

listen the Pinterest girls are geniuses take their advice just write out a list of autumnal activities to do just do it for the fun of it im doing it right now

bubble baf

porridge season throw some cinnamon apples or frozen blueberries or raspberries in there make a potion

ITS PLUM SEASON eat as many plums as humanly possible

so much tea

big chunky headphones

hoard jumpers and sweaters its ok to hoard some things and I am a firm believer that hoarding clothes is good for the soul SHOP SECOND HAND PLS

soups stews lentils baked salads noodles

get the bus and sit quietly

pls move and stretch do some yoga go to a class if you can afford it I have never once regretted spending money on yoga

listen to Phoebe bridgers and dye your hair or do something small to switch up your appearance honour this season by reinventing yourself a little bit have fun

spend time with family biological or chosen do an activity go on a walk with a friend go for food

try a new type of beer drink guinness

plan halloween costumes watch scary movies start a new show

get excited for Christmas no its not too early shut up

cut off people who eat your joy its so much easier than you think your world will not end without them it will actually be better and happier

[oldfashionedmorphine]

well now i can’t say “nobody asked for this…”

(dear anon, i hope this helps!)

fyi—i spend way too much of my time looking things up for this fic… and this is some of what i saved when it came to outfits/hair and also just some basics info/stuff :)

———————

mike in 2004

hair: styled like johnny depp’s hair in the 90s… he’s kept it shoulder length or longer since 1986—he ditched the bangs at some point in the early 90s! and since he doesn’t dye it, there’s some gray throughout

outfits: white or black t-shirt’s, black jeans, and converse high tops are still his bread-and-butter base. his style is pretty consistent because he’s not a big fan of change—he likes what he likes! it’s just super easy for him to throw something else over a plain t-shirt and walk out the door.

overall: he doesn’t typically keep his face clean-shaven, call it laziness, but sometimes he will wait two weeks or more between picking up a razor. he’s still skinny because he doesn’t always eat right, skipping meals because he gets too distracted with video games, but years of drinking are starting to take a toll and reflect in his skin, at times looking sallow

———————

will in 2004

hair: styled basically like whatever hayden christensen was doing to his hair in 2003/2004, also not a fan of hair dye, and also as he got older there was a bit more wave to his hair

outfits: wears lots of flannels, band/graphic tees, polos, button ups with sweater vests, jeans/corduroy/khaki pants, adidas/saucony jazz/new balance style sneakers—usually laid back but he will also use any excuse to dress it up! wears square-framed tortoiseshell glasses since 2001 (when he had to renew his driver’s license he couldn’t pass the eyesight test—got his eyes checked and sure enough he needed glasses!)—and included that picture of noah wearing glasses cause when i saw it i was like, wow yeah, that’s not too far off, just change the frames and age him 15 years… lol

overall: usually keeps his face free of any stubble, also has a few gray hairs but not as many as mike and he likes to walk or run for exercise to better keep in shape, in the summer he’s been known to pick up a tan, and he has one tattoo—the word “love” written in morse code under the scar from where nancy burnt him with a hot iron [ .-.. --- ...- . ]

———————

holly in 2004

(holly is 24, about the same age as kristen bell so I kinda picture her from veronica mars season 1 but with long hair/dyed like cady heron from “mean girls”—holly watched the movie earlier that year and liked the look!)

outfits: low rise flare jeans, denim jackets, fitted shirts, canvas vans sneakers, low top converse

———————

el in 2004

hair: long, always past her shoulders at least—she doesn’t like cutting it short for obvious reasons—she also dyes it and never skimps on spending money to maintain it and loves adding things like butterfly clips or barrettes with sparkles

outfits: she loves fashion and experimenting with her wardrobe. lots of delicate details and whimsy. a lot of what claire danes and anne hathaway were wearing 2002-2004

what she’s up to: el never went to college, but attends a few business seminars in between all her world travels and eventually invests some of her government hush money into opening a vintage/antique shop in hawkins that her and joyce run together.

el’s exact outfit from ch 8!

———————

outfit inspiration for mike + will in 1999 (aka for ch. 15)

mike: black jeans, ochre yellow striped button down, and of course he would’ve worn his typical converse shoes if he had to physically travel to the house that night, but alas… lol

will: brown dress shoes (normally wears sneakers, but for special occasions he gets fancy), light wash denim with navy turtle neck, plus brown leather jacket

(yes… i purposefully made them wear each others colors 😏)

———————

the mood board i made for nancy + jonathan’s wedding in 1993

(i’ve posted this before but idk how many of you saw it lol)

of course there is more i could add and sadly there’s things i’ve since cleared from my phone like the picture i had saved of a wedding dress i thought nancy would wear… but if there is anything else you’d like to know, i’m always down to talk more about this story! send me a message—you don’t have to stay on anon unless you wanna, but i don’t bite!! ;)

[diary-of-my-devil]

Sometime In October 2015

I don’t recall this date, but I know it was early in the relationship. He had to use his mom’s phone to communicate with me for the first couple months of our relationship. I later found out it was because he went through phones often. In a fit of rage he would throw them and break them beyond repair. Even when he had a phone, it always had a crack or two.

It was our first long phone call, I believe. One that lasted for a few hours. I remember telling him multiple times that I was trying to maintain a proper sleep schedule. Insomnia had been a large part of my life for as long as I could remember, and despite knowing I’d probably be up much longer than intended, I still tried to be in bed with the lights out at a decent time. It was a school night.

He had told me not to worry about it. That I would get over having to stay up late to accommodate when he wanted to talk. I brushed it off because it wasn’t his phone, after all, and he didn’t have it as much as I had my phone. 

We discussed many things, but this one particular conversation was, in retrospect, the one that showed me a lot of bright red flags that were desperately trying to make themselves known. Firstly was the fact that I wasn’t able to go to bed when I wanted, because he wanted me to be on the phone.

Second, my hair. God, throughout our entire relationship he was obsessive about my hair. I had made it known to him that as soon as my aunt was married and the wedding was over, I was getting my hair cut. Waist length hair didn’t match what I felt like on the inside. He wasn’t happy with that.

“It’s so beautiful.” He had said despite the fact he had never seen it in its full glory. The only time we had ever seen each other involved the vast majority of my hair being hidden for a reason. He had only seen my overgrown bangs and the auburn shade my hair had turned after taking Color Oops to black box dye. 

I was a doormat, yes, but I stayed stern in cutting my hair. It was negatively affecting me. I needed it cut. Countless times I had stood in front of my bathroom mirror crying on the verge of taking a shitty pair of scissors to my hair. I was going to do this. I was going to cut my hair. And then I would dye it, because I’m in high school now and my dad finally agreed to it. 

Third, drugs. Weed, specifically. Nowadays, I have absolutely no problem with weed. I take half of a gummy about once a week to help ease the tension that makes my various aches and pains worse and I had smoked a bit since I had started college.

Younger me was not as receptive, though. All drugs are bad, thanks to what my law enforcement dad and my years in public school had taught me. He was odd about approaching this subject. His first time trying to skirt around a subject by not saying his plan, instead implying it to me.

“Your dad is going to have to get over the weed thing.” He had said to me. I asked why, genuinely confused. His answer was because he liked it, and since he liked it, I would have to like it too. This was the first time I felt something akin to peer pressure like this. Yes, we had only been dating for a short time, but he was my boyfriend. He knew more than I did. 

I managed to skirt around the conversation as well. I changed the subject but after the call was over and it was past the bedtime I had set for myself, I thought about it. I didn’t do drugs, never had and didn’t have the intention to. Jesus christ by that point my dad had been threatening me with drug tests for the past couple years.

I didn’t tell my friends. For your information, that will be a common theme. Secrecy on my end. I didn’t tell my friends a lot of things. It was not a conscious decision, but of course hindsight is 20/20 and I think I knew that these conversations and behaviors were wrong and I felt the need to protect him. 

This was the true start of me learning that I was not the one in control here.

[pgtitta]

Gorilla glue hair tiktok

Look at it,” she said before getting emotional. Tessica is horrified by what she sees TikTok She goes on to show her fans that when she plays with her hair or combs it, clumps of hair just fall out. “I put the dye in, jumped in the shower rinsing it out and as I’m rinsing it out, dude, my hair, my hair is coming out as I’m rinsing my hair out.” “So me thinking that my hair is strong enough to take chemicals, dude no it wasn’t,” she says in disbelief. It looks like the TikTok user named Tessica that had put Gorilla Glue in her hair tried some at-home remedies. I thought my hair was strong enough to for chemicals 😭 #tessicabrown #mahair #helpmyhairplease #fyp #imoverit ♬ original sound – Tessica Brown In the video, Tessica explains that she was going to keep her natural hair, but when she noticed a “gray hair here, a gray hair there,” it was time to throw some color on it. In a new video uploaded to the platform that made her famous, Tessica explained her hair is falling out thanks to an at-home dye job. Obeng again because she’s in yet another hairy situation. As of January 12th, 2021, this is all of what has happened regarding Tessicas Gorilla glue accident.A post shared by Tessica she may be hitting up Dr. Also, she may be wearing wigs for a short period of time, since tmz.com did state the following, “Tessica had told us she was prepared to wear wigs for the rest of her life - but after this procedure, she won’t need them for too long.”. She also says, that she cannot wait to grow back her hair, to its original long length, since she did cut off her ponytail in order to see if that could help out in removing the Gorilla glue. Tessica Brown, better known as the Gorilla Glue girl, recently went viral after posting a TikTok talking about her predicament and how she got there. What Does Tessica Plan On Doing Now?Īccording to tmz.com, Tessica has big plans for the upcoming weekend of February 13-14th, presumably for Valentine’s Day, although this has not been confirmed yet. He also made sure to test these substances on a dummies scalp, before using them on Tessica’s hair, and they performed quite well, as stated previously. 4,378: That’s how much Amazon searches for Gorilla Glue increased after TikTok user Tessica Brown posted a video highlighting the unfortunate results of using it as a hair spray, according to e-commerce performance analytics company Profitero, as reported by Ad Age. According to tmz.com, he used a combination of several substances to break down the polyurethane (the main substance of Gorilla glue), those substances being medical-grade adhesive remover, aloe vera, olive oil, and a dash of acetone. Just to reinforce the point: There’s no such thing as bad PR. If you or someone you know is a victim of harassment, cyberbullying, or any other kind of bullying, don't keep it a secret. TikTok does not tolerate abusive content or behavior. At TikTok, while we value creative expression, our foremost priority is keeping users safe. Watch short videos about gorillagluegirl on TikTok. Inside the Procedure to Save Gorilla Glue Girl’s Hair. Obeng himself, he was able to remove all of the gorilla glue off of Tessica’s hair, by using basic chemistry, as he puts it. gorilla glue girl 311.4M people have watched this. TikTok video from TheDoctors (thedoctorstv): 'Saving GorillaGlueGirl’s hair See the procedure + how she’s doing today imdollady fyp foryoupage viral medicaltiktok gorillaglue'. Obeng was able to effectively remove all of the gorilla glue off of Tessica’s hair, while not damaging any of it (all according to tmz.com). There, she underwent surgery for a grueling 4 hours, and Mr. Tessica agreed to do the procedure and flew from her home state of Louisiana to California. While the ER was not able to remove the glue off of her hair, she was able to have a procedure that could supposedly remove the glue off of her hair, from a Californian plastic surgeon named Mr. Has She Managed To Solve The Problem?Ī few days after she made her first TikTok video, she went to the ER to try and get rid of the glue, however, According to, they were not able to do anything. Which as a result, lead to Tessicas hair being stuck in place for about one month. In a video shared early in February on TikTok and Instagram, which has since gone viral, Brown revealed that she sprayed Gorilla Glue. However, it turns out that Gorilla glue, after 24 hours, dries up permanently. However, the longevity of the hairstyle wasn't by choice. In her TikTok video in which she firsts mentions this situation, she explains that she wanted to keep her hair smooth and straight, but she did not have any more Got2b hair spray (which is a product similar to hair gel), so she decided to use Gorilla glue as an alternative. She states that she used Gorilla glue on her hair to keep it smooth and straight, however, that ended up causing an even larger problem, and that was her hair being completely stuck to her head. On Febuary4th, 2021, a 40-year-old woman named Tessica Brown, went on the popular social platform, TikTok, to talk about a problem she had, regarding her hair.

[httpdabi]

Break up

Summary: After having a messed up break up, your best friend Dabi is there to comfort you, and give even more than you asked for.

Word count: 5,2k

Genre: romance, smut, no quirks haha

Warnings: 18+, creampie, public sex, spitting, choking..

,, I fucking hate him’’ you cried loudly, mouth full of ice cream as you talked to your cousin over the phone. At this point you didn’t care of how loud you were, and you didn’t care about the fact that your cousin had a hard time understanding you since you were a crying mess. Sobbing loudly, you ignored the words coming from the other line.

,, That bitch cheated on me with Toga, can you believe that?’’ you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you wrapped yourself with your favorite comfort blanket.

,, The girlie with weird hair ?’’ your cousin asked in shock.

,,YES, the fuck she thinking she’s the fifth element with that hairstyle?’’ you choked out, throwing the empty package across the room, as your cousin giggled because of your remark. She wished she was closer so she could pay you a visit, but sadly miles and miles were separating the two of you.

Sure, the first person you wanted to inform about your breakup was Touya, but you couldn’t force yourself to bother him, knowing he’s probably on work. You knew very well that he would drop everything and come over, saying how he doesn’t feel well or some other shit, and you didn’t want that.

After the call ended, you stood up, ignoring your reflection on the window, knowing very well that you look like shit right now with all the smudged mascara over your face. Tears started rolling down your cheeks even more when you saw that there’s no ice cram anymore. What did you do to deserve such a torture.

Wearing your hoodie, you made your way toward the nearest store, ignoring the people that were giving you weird stares because of your silly Sailor Moon pajama shorts. You couldn’t care less of what anyone thought in that moment.

You went to the store with the intention to buy ice cream, only to end up in the part of it with variant different choices of hairdye. So many ideas were going thru your mind, as you looked all over it. You almost ended up buying the pink dye and some bleach, until you saw scissors hanging beside the bleach.

Grabbing the scissors only, you hurried up to pay everything you chose, rolling your eyes shamelessly as you saw Rumi, the cashier of the fucking day. For some weird reason, you almost hated the muscular bitch. Maybe it was because she never had the exchange to give you back, giving you a pack of gums instead. Maybe it was because of her attitude, always giving you some smart comments, how your skirt is too short, how there are kids here, or even because she always rolled her eyes when she saw you coming in.

,, Looks like someone had a rough day’’ she commented sarcastically, as you gave your best to keep calm and ignore her. After the comment, she shut her mouth and did her job.

,, Sweetie, can you help?’’ she asked, suddenly with a cute tone, when her co-worker asked her to bring him few paper bags that were beside her.

,, No, you are doing great’’ you spat, grabbing all of the items as you hurried out of the store. The fuck would you help her? She’s getting paid for it, not you. Stupid bitch.

Placing the ice cream into the freezer, you immediately made your way to the toilet as you unpacked the scissors almost aggressively. Why would you dye and ruin your hair with bleach, when you could just cut off a bit of your hair, which meant the exact length of his dick.

Your hair was already long, and the fact that his dick wasn’t that big meant that you would only cut few inches. After short calculating, you grabbed the scissors, as you turned some silly tutorial on Youtube. Watching yourself in the mirror, you cried even harder, not because you regretted your decision. It was more because you looked like a lunatic.

After you finished, you immediately washed your face, cleaning all the ruined make up. Sure it didn’t look like a professional person did your hairstyle, but it didn’t look bad either, in fact, you liked it.

Since you weren’t in the mood to do your make up, you only put a bit of face cream over your face, and bit of mascara to make your eyes pop up a bit, before you took few selfies to post on instagram.

You were too lazy to do it, all you wanted to do in the moment was cry some more and eat ice cream you just bought, while watching something on Netflix. But you had to do it, you had to embarrass him as much he embarrassed you.

,, Not gonna miss those 5 inches, Kai.’’

You wrote, laughing ironically at the caption under your selfie. It wasn’t the best selfie you ever took, but at least you didn’t look like you were suffering because of the breakup, and the much shorter hair was visible on it.

[cyxnaf] Touya Todoroki

,, What happened?’’

It wasn’t even a minute since you posted your photo on the instagram, and your best friend already messaged you there.

Bitch cheated on me

You replied, sending him a crying selfie, with a spoon in your mouth.

[cyxnaf] Touya Todoroki

I’ll be there in 15 mins

A smile crept on your face, as you read his message. You loved him more than anyone or anything else on the whole word. If it was someone else coming over, you would probably force yourself and clean the apartment. But since it was Dabi, you didn’t give a shit.

The moment he arrived, you started bawling your eyes out. Having a face to face conversation with someone, talking about the break up made your feelings awake again. Dabi in other hand tried to make you feel better, bringing you your favorite snacks, and trying to put Kai down.

,, I’ve never had drama, unless it’s with my inner self’’ you cried loudly. ,, And all of sudden, I’m being cheated on.’’ Adding you grabbed the chips from the paper bag and opened it almost aggressively. Touya laughed you out, pointing every drama you’ve been connected to.

,, Stop it, you’re supposed to make me feel better’’ you slapped his arm lightly, as he talked about the drama that happened back in high school, when you got into a huge fight with a girl that called your dog a rat.

Once Touya realized that your mood was only getting worse, he turned some documentary on Netlfix that he started watching few days ago, explaining everything about it to you. You couldn’t help but smile, as you listened to him explaining every small thing, making sure you won’t be confused once he plays the episode.

,, You only watched few episodes of one murder documentary and you think you’re Mr. worldwide intellectual.’’ You laughed, as he tried to explain professionally.

,, The fuck you talking about ? The only documentary you watch is Keeping up with the Kardashians, so shut the fuck up’’ he spat, rolling his eyes playfully as he played the documentary.

The thing he played was about some murder, nothing you would watch on your own, but you didn’t mind. Seeing him talk about it so excitedly made your heart warm and in that moment you didn’t care if you won’t be able to sleep next few days.

You always loved spending your time with Touya, you simply loved how even when none of you had something to say, the silence was never uncomfortable. Even just sitting with him was making you feel safe.

,, You really choped your hair’’ he said, as he started to play with your hair. Being tired from all the crying and with his gentle movements, you were not capable of replying, simply nodding your head in response.

,, It looks good on you’’ Touya complimented you, placing a soft kiss on top of your head. He noticed that you were zooming out, so he just continued to caress your, helping you fall asleep.

All the horrible thoughts he had washed away, once he saw your sleeping face. He could only smile to himself as he noticed how puffy your face got from all the crying. Sure, it wasn’t that visible, but he simply noticed it and found it more then cute.

He tried to act calm and suppress his feelings, he tried to be there for you, but when you talked about what happened, all he wanted to do was find that piece of shit of your ex and simply kill him. He couldn’t understand how did you always manage to find some weird boyfriends that didn’t appreciate and treat you as you deserved.

If you only gave him a chance, he would always be there for you, he would simply give you anything you wished for. Touya never understood how could you be so blind, never once did you notice his feelings for you. Never once did you question his behavior.

Every time you called him over, he would ditch all his plans and run to you. Every time you needed something, you knew very well that only Touya will help you 100%.

You woke up in your bedroom, a little bit confused about what time it was and if your best friend was still there. Taking your phone to check what time it is, your eyes widened when you saw a Instagram notification from Kai. That piece of shit had balls to like your photo.

Throwing your phone away, you started crying again, wishing the day you met him never happened. You wished you listened to your best friend when he told you that Chisaki ain’t the one for you.

,, You ok?’’ you heard Touya’s voice under the loud TV noise. In just a second he was beside you, warming your body with his own and wrapping his arms around you, telling you how everything is ok and how he’s there for you.

,, Come on, stand up’’ Touya commanded suddenly, forcing your upper body up. ,, We are leaving’’ he added, forcing you out of the bed. You were too confused to even think at that very moment, but you found yourself following his lead. Wearing one of your very oversized shirt that covered more than enough, you hurried out of your bedroom to Toyua who was waiting for you already all ready.

You didn’t know what was happening, and the pack of eggs in his hand was confusing the shit out of you, yet you found yourself in the passenger seat, doing whatever Touya planned at that moment.

,, Where are we going ?’’ you asked, tears long gone.

,, We’re egging his car’’ he said, as your eyes widened in shock.

,, Is that even legal?’’ you asked again, already all excited about it.

,, Nope’’ Touya laughed out, focused on the road. You were sure that Kai would know it was you, definitely. But he also won’t have balls to call the police on you, since you knew about all his dirty deeds, you knew about all the drugs he’s taking and having hidden somewhere in his house.

Kai didn’t live far away from you, so in only few minutes of drive the two of you found yourself in front of his car. Lighting one cigarette, Dabi took the paper that was placed on the windshield.

,, Stop perking on my spot’’ Dabi read out loud, pointing out the word he wrote wrongly. You laughed loudly as you remembered about Kai telling you about some dude parking his Motorcycle in front of his car, making it hard to get out of the spot for him.

,, He can’t write, but he can do meth I guess’’ you laughed, as Touya puffed on his cigarette.

You stood there close to Kai’s car, as you waited for your best friend to finish his cigarette. It was a quiet night, with no people around at all. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was rushing in your blood, or the fact that you spent all day crying like a mad person, but in that very moment all you felt was anger as you thought about your ex.

,,Here’’ Touya gave you the package, still smoking that cigarette. You weren’t sure if he took his time with cigarette or if the time was simply passing so slow for you, since he was a pretty fast smoker.

To his surprise, you grabbed one egg and immediately threw it on his car, making him rise his eyebrows and laugh in shock. You never did something like that before, so you didn’t really understand why the alarm didn’t go on. Was your throw too weak?

A huge grin formed on your lips as you threw another egg, you couldn’t stop the evil laugh as you watched the egg yolk all over the window and in that moment you wished you had rotten eggs instead. Watching you happy like that, Touya couldn’t hide his smile. He was almost sure that everyone could read his emotions, he was sure that everyone could say how much in love he was with you.

You were on your fourth egg when Touya took one from the package and threw it. You weren’t sure if he threw it with much more force, or if he already did this before, but when the egg hit the car, loud alarm took over the peaceful night.

,, Shit, we have to hurry’’ Touya said under his breath as both of you threw one more egg. Sure, Kai won’t call the police, but if someone else saw you, they sure will.

You were laughing loudly, as you took your last egg, ready to throw it while Touya explained to you at what you should aim for.

,, HEY’’ you heard a familiar voice, coming from the building you used to spend so much time in. Not even turning around, you threw the egg and rushed to Toyua’s car, hopping fast into passenger seat. The moment Kai got out, everything happened too fast.

You wished you could take a photo of his upset face as he looked over your car. You were sure that you never saw him mad like that.

,, YOU FUCKING SUCK’’ he yelled once he turned the alarm off, while Dabi was ready to drive off, laughing loudly with you.

,, AND YOU SWALLOW BITCH’’ you yelled, popping your head thru the window. Touya gave you a bit time to flip him a bird, before he drove fast off, leaving your ex boyfriend pissed on the road. Laughing loudly, you leaned back into the seat, satisfied with the little event your best friend thought of.

,, You are seriously the best’’ you said, still smiling widely. Touya nodded his head, focused on the road. Every time he took a look of you, his heart would skip a beat. He was so fucking glad that you weren’t sad anymore, at least not for now.

You weren’t sure what had he planned next, since he wasn’t driving back home, but you didn’t care. You enjoyed his company, and you enjoyed the fact that you felt nothing else beside happiness in the moment. It was weird how fast emotions were taking over you. Just one hour ago you were a crying mess, and all of sudden you found yourself enjoying the night with your best friend.

You didn’t even realize how hungry you were, until Touya stopped by McDonalds to buy some food. Once he came back, placing the milkshakes and paper bag into your lap, you almost started drooling from the delicious smell.

He parked on the spot beside lake, where the two of you usually come to chill a bit. The music played on the low as the two of you ate slowly and talked about casual stuff. The moment a song from the famous tiktoker started playing in the background, you wished your hands weren’t so oily from the food. You wanted to change the song, but you didn’t want to make your phone oily, you weren’t even sure why you had that song in your playlist after all.

,, Does this song bother you?’’ he asked, taking a sip from his milkshake.

,, Yeah there’s a word that’s pissing me off’’ you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

,,Which one?’’ he asked confused.

,,When she says This ain’t build a bitch, you don’t get to pick or choose, what she should have said is nothing and just never release that stupid song’’ you hissed, wiping your hands as you changed the song that was pissing you off so much.

,, You are so cute’’ he complimented you, as both of you placed the rest of the food in the paper bag. Everything you did was cute to him, the was you sneeze is cute to him, the way you rise your brows when you are surprised, the way you laugh at your own jokes sometimes. Everything.

,,Did you know that Yumi got pregnant ?’’He asked you suddenly. Your eyes widened in shock, as you heard him ask, not because it was weird or anything like that, the two of you always gossip, but because you knew Yumi so well. You weren’t best friends with her, but the two of you would casually meet up.

,, Wasn’t she on the pills?’’ you asked, covering your mouth with your left hand. ,, Oh fuck no, I don’t claim this negative energy’’ you gasped shaking your head as Dabi laughed at your sudden reaction.

Talking about pregnancy and sex, you found yourself thinking about the last time you slept with your ex. You didn’t feel any sadness, all you felt was disappointment and anger. Just the thought that he was the last one inside you was making you mad, and the fact that only god knows when will you sleep with someone again was making you mad even more.

It’s not that you were a prude, or that you had something against one night stands. Sure, you could install Tinder and just find a quick fuck, knowing very well that the thought will bother you until the problem in your head is solved. But you weren’t the one to jump under the covers with a complete stranger.

,, What’s up?’’ Dabi asked once he saw you confused and lost in your thoughts. Hearing his voice, a sudden idea popped up in your head. You shook your head, trying to not think about it. He is your best friend for fucks sake, you can’t use him for something like that.

,, Nothing’’ you shook your head once again, trying to avoid his eyes.

,, Oh come on, tell me’’ he said stubbornly, as he placed his cigarette between his lips.

,, You know, the fact that Kai was the last person I had sex with, and the fact that I don’t know how long it will stay that way is bothering me’’ you confessed, skipping the part with the rest of your thoughts.

,, and you thought I could help you with it’’ Touya joked, as he puffed on his cigarette.

,, How did you know?’’ You asked way too fast, regretting it almost immediately once he almost choked onto the air and the smoke of his cigarette.

,, You can’t be serious’’ Touya said under his breath, closing his eyes as he spoke those words out. You weren’t sure why, but your heart sank a bit once you heard him say that.

,, Ah come on, it can be a quick fuck, it won’t change anything between us’’ he whined, turning your body to his direction. Once you said that, Touya grabbed you and forced you into his lap. You were more then shocked by his action, but you still positioned yourself comfortably in his lap, not sure if you should say anything or just wait..

,, You think I’ll be able to go back after it ?’’ he asked, one hand holding your waist firmly, and other holding his cigarette. ,, Doll, you should know better than anyone that I don’t do quick fucks’’ he added, as his grip got stronger. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or not, but you felt uneasy at that moment, not sure where this all is leading.

,, If we do it now, there’s no going back doll, you’ll belong to me’’ he added again, as you sat in his lap confused. It was weird to hear him talk like that.

,, Touya, that can fuck up our friendship’’ you whispered. You were way too confused, not sure if he was talking about a relationship with you or just about you not sleeping with anyone else beside him.

,, And a quick fuck won’t do it?’’ he hissed, throwing the finished cigarette out of his window. He was right, both of it could fuck it up, and your idea was probably the worse option. The problem you had just few minutes ago was long gone, as new thoughts took over your mind. The fact that he was slowly placing soft kisses all over your neck didn’t help the situation, and the fact that you tiled your head to the side to give him more access to it didn’t help either.

You weren’t sure if you were simply too horny in the moment and if emotions took over you, but one part of you wanted to give it a try, yet another part of you was simply too scared of losing him. You did think about it before, how lucky can a girl be to call herself his girlfriend!? He’s not like other guys, at least not to you. He was always so caring, so gentle and so loving with you. He was the one who was always there for you, and in fact, you were more than sure that if you two start something, you won’t end up being hurt. But the fact that your friendship was under a question because of it was making you scared. Touya is the only person you never want to lose, and he knew that very well.

,, What do you say doll? Wanna try?’’ he asked, as he kissed your jaw softly. You weren’t sure how were you even capable of thinking at all in that moment.

,, Yes’’ you breathed out, closing your eyes shut as you enjoyed his soft kisses. Could you really lose him? If you had to worry about it so much, you should worry about the very exact moment. Why wouldn’t the current event ruin your friendship, now that you know that he doesn’t really see you as a friend as much as you thought. If you start some kind of a relationship with him, and if it doesn’t work, the two of you could talk it out.

The moment you said yes, Touya grabbed your yaw with his right hand, brushing his nose with your own before he connected his lips with yours. Once you placed your hands on his cheeks, trying to get closer to him, he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

What really drove him crazy was you rolling your hips on him. The fact that you had nothing else under your oversized shirt than your favorite panties almost made him cum in that very moment. Breaking the kiss, he leaned back into the seat, as you tried to catch your breath. Touya pulled your shirt up, exposing your naked chest. Not wasting any time, he placed his left on your right boob, pinching and twisting your already hard nipple, while sucking the other one.

Just the feeling of his hot breath made you throw your head back, enjoying the sucking and squeezing he was giving you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, finding support in it. Every roll you did with your hips, was met with his own one, making you feel his hard erection under his sweatpants. A quiet moan escaped your lips when you felt him bite on your nipple few times before he got back onto sucking it again.

Touya pulled your hips up a bit, giving you a sign to stay in that position as he pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, just enough for his dick to spring up. You knew that he had a dick piercing, in fact, you were in the waiting room when he decided to get it, but you still were shocked. It looked so good, so attractive.

You wanted to get out of his lap, you wanted to taste him, but his hands stopped you. Pushing you back onto his lap once again.

,, You have no idea how much I love you’’ he said, brushing his lips on your own, as he pushed your panties to the side and rubbed the tip of his dick around your hole.

,, I love you too, so much’’ you confessed, kissing him softly, as the pink head of his dick slowly entered you, hands on your hips slowly leading you down onto his length, until he was all in.

,, I know’’ Touya smirked into the kiss, enjoying the warmth of your walls hugging his dick. The hands on your hips slowly started to lead your hips up and down. The pace was so slow you could feel every inch of his dick rubbing against your velvety walls. Touya wasn’t one to enjoy the slow pace that much, but with you it was something else. He wanted to feel you as much as possible, and pushing his dick so slow into you gave him that possibility.

Just thinking about how it finally happened almost made him cream inside you. Closing his eyes, he let you move up and down his dick on your own. When you nuzzled your head into his neck he almost lost it, holding your hips down for few seconds just to calm his dick down. The small I love you that you whispered into his neck all over again didn’t help either, making it hard for him to control himself.

His hand found its way under your shirt, while his lips were all over your neck now, leaving sloppy marks all over it. You weren’t sure what did you enjoy more, his lips and hot breath over your neck, sucking and biting it, his hand squeezing your left breast or his dick deep inside you rubbing against your cervix.

Even tho you were moving your hips so slow, every time you were pushing your hips down, his would move upward, snapping against you with a little force and hitting your cervix perfectly. The both of you were breathing heavily, enjoying every second of the slow sex you had.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled your body closer to his, as he started moving just a little bit faster. You squeezed your eyes shut, as you realized that your climax was getting closer and closer with every move. Touya noticed your breathing getting faster, and your walls hugging his dick tighter then before, as he pulled your body up a bit, pushing you against the steering wheel and giving himself more access to move and fuck you a bit faster and stronger then before.

Moaning loudly, you wrapped your arms around him as you came all over his dick, almost shocked that you came without any clit stimulation. Dabi didn’t stop fucking you, helping you ride off the hard orgasm that just hit you.

Once he was sure you were done, he sat down. He lowered his seat, as he changed the position, locking you under him. Without giving you a chance to understand anything, he pushed his dick inside you.

,, I’m not done with you’’ he groaned, as he started moving his hips at much faster pace then before. Instead of saying anything, you wrapped your legs around him, placing your hands around his neck and just kissing him again. You couldn’t get enough of him, and luckily he felt the same. Accepting everything you had to offer, gladly.

The slow and steady pace was long forgotten, as he fucked you into the seat of his car with much more force and at one ungodly speed. You were pretty sure that the car was moving with every move he did, and you were sure if someone happened to be near, they would know what’s going on, but that was the last thing you cared of.

You were a moaning mess under him, and he was no better than you. You were surprised when you felt his hand around your throat, holding you in one place and playing with your breath. Open your mouth for me was all he said, before you felt thick saliva in your mouth. When it started, you thought it would be only some vanilla sex, the last thing you thought was that he would end up choking you and spitting in your mouth.

If it was someone else, you would probably freak out, but since it was him, you only obeyed, mouth open and tongue out, giving him approval for more.

,,That’s my good girl’’ he said, as he spat into your mouth one more time, while his grip around your neck only grew stronger. He was moving at rapidly speed, his skin slapping against your own was louder than the music that was playing in the background.

You closed your eyes as you started catching your breath once his hand moved away from your neck. Touya couldn’t control himself anymore, grabbing the edges of the seat, as he fucked into you. The pain mixed with pleasure was too intense for you, but you are his good girl, and you are doing so great for him, he made sure you understood that, as he repeated it all over again, while fucking into you.

The moment you felt his fingers rubbing your clit in circles, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut, moaning loudly, as he told you to cum all over his dick, so you did as you were told and that was enough for him to reach his own high. Few harsh moves and he found himself cuming deep inside you. Even Toyua doesn’t know how did he find the energy to tell you how good you are milking his dick, but he did.

Collapsing on top of you, he fucked his seed inside of you, making sure not a single drop will get outside of your tight little out, making sure none of it will go to waste.

,, You’re mine’’ he said, placing soft kisses all over your face, and you were his. You were always his and he was always yours.

You weren’t sure how long would it take you to get over your stupid ex, but you were sure that Touya will be there for you and help you out in every way he can. Starting from the moment the two of you left your apartment, to the very moment the two of you cuddled inside of his car, after one steamy sex. All you could think of was your best friend and what would future bring you.

[sockablock]

hey are requests still open bc I am still FULLY CRYING about Molly coming back to life holy SHIT. I have a thing I want to request and that’s Molly having to come to terms with whatever changes his body went through - new blood hunter abilities, longer hair, the much larger scar from Lucien’s v gory death - after he comes back to life.

Molly doesn’t ask what happened to Nott. He doesn’t ask them where they are. He doesn’t even ask who Essek is, and only gives Caduceus a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning away and wandering off.

His feet are bare on the soft teal grass. This time of year in the Blooming Grove, faint glowing insects hover around his ankles. The leaves of the old blue wisteria trees hang like a sheet across the sky. He is wrapped in a cloak of quiet moonlight, grey on the graves as he passes by.

Eventually, he comes to a lone headstone. It is long, and flat, and smooth. He sits down.

If he is different in any way, nobody says. It’s taken him a few days to find his words again, and it’s clear that his memories are still trickling back. Veth had joked that he used to be more entertaining, but they all know that his returning in any capacity is already nothing short of a miracle. To the Mighty Nein, he is still as miraculous as before.

To himself—to Mollymauk, he thinks he’s a bit leaner. He’d never really been one for rigorous training—not aside from what it took to throw a sword and catch it—and yet, this body seems hardened, now. It’s still a bit sore in some inconvenient places, and the tall one, Caduceus, mentioned that he shouldn’t do anything too strenuous to avoid opening his scar. This newest mark runs like a seam down his shoulder to his navel, making the rest of his scars look like paper cuts. He isn’t exactly sure how to feel about that, yet. Beau offered to help him design a tattoo to cover it, and he isn’t sure how to feel about that yet, either.

A faint breeze runs through the Grove, tousling his hair. It’s longer now, and Molly might have liked that more if he’d been around to enjoy it. He suspects that he might have been, in one way or another, though not nearly present enough to make the executive choices. Otherwise, he might have tried braids. Maybe hair dye. Not  only that, but the...what had Caleb called him? The “previous occupant” had taken off Molly’s horn charms and necklaces. For the second-life of him, Molly can’t remember if he’d kept them. He can’t remember much about the last ten months—which might be alright. He doesn’t know if he wants to.

(He does remember some things, though. He remembers taking his shirt off the first night at the Grove and seeing the other scar left behind. It is closed now, and healed well over with blood magic, but when Molly reaches up and traces it down, he can feel how the cut drips into his abdomen. He remembers how it felt to have the blood pouring over, to boil with fury and die of shock, under the stars.)

He looks at them now. They haven’t changed a bit.

Another wind kicks up. Molly isn’t sure exactly what time of year it is, but he shivers. The Clays are kind, but the whole family towers over Molly, so their spare clothes fit him poorly. Firbolgs are also—well, furred—and Molly suspects that this borrowed tunic is on the thin side. His tail curls inward as he realizes he’s going to sneeze. He feels his muscles tense, he breathes in—

And suddenly, something warm is draped across his shoulders. He glances up.

“Oh. Yasha?“ His voice is strained. It feels as if Molly hasn’t spoken in a year, but at the same time, he feels like his throat is worn. Almost like he’s been giving frequent speeches with wild abandon. Now that he’s had some time to recover, the combined effect sounds like someone trying to remember how to talk, but only being allowed to do it through a rusty pipe.

“Come to join me in my musings?” he still says, stubbornly.

“She’s not the only one. ‘Sup.”

Molly doesn’t have to turn to know that Beauregard has walked into the rows of graves just behind Yasha. The two of them have been pretty attached to each other lately, except for when Yasha comes to check on Molly. The strongest part of him, the part that hung on the longest, is privately quite pleased by this.

“And you’ve given me your cloak.” He grins, but just at Yasha. “How kind of you, my dear.”

Okay, so not that privately.

“I was worried you’d be cold,” Yasha says, concern endearing. “Sorry your old coat wasn’t doing better. Jester says she can probably Mend it, or try to paint you a new one—“

Molly waves his hand. “No, no need, dear. I should do it. It’ll give me a thing to work on.”

Yasha nods. “I’ll let her know.”

Distantly, Molly can hear footsteps approaching. He counts four, maybe five pairs, if one of them is lighter. After a moment, there’s the sigh of cloth, and six pairs are walking.

Movement joins Molly on the headstone. He turns, and now Beau is seated beside him. Yasha stands like a guardian at his back.

Both of them are much, much wearier, Molly notices. Even though it’s been less than a year since his “death,” Beau is riddled with new scars from combat, and Yasha’s tattoos have gotten much bolder. Oddly, that’s reassuring.There’s something in the fact that Molly’s body changed, but theirs did too. And even if he can’t remember it, that’s something they have in common.

On the other hand, though, it makes him feel...he shakes his head. He gazes outward.

He asks, “Why did you follow me, then?”

Beau responds first. She does so with a snort. “Of course we’d follow you, you idiot. You were our friend—or...okay, technically, at the time you’re actually a crazy cult leader—“

“No, I meant—“

She cuts him off. “Right, yeah, details. Not important. Listen, it...it was a whole long thing, and it was complicated, but the important part is that we really, just really wanted you back. That’s why we did any of it. All of it. And why nothing could stop us.”

“Not even me?”

“Hell, no. Since when could you stop me?”

Molly chuckles at that. He glances at Yasha. “Is that true?”

“Which part?” she says. Then she says, “Yes. It is.”

He matches the tiny smile on her face. Then he turns back to stare at the woods past the graveyard while behind him, the rest of the Mighty Nein come to a halt.

His smile widens. “What I was actually trying to ask, though, is why you all followed me here. Just now. I thought you were going to prepare for dinner?”

“My parents took over,” Caduceus says. “They told us to take a break.”

“Besides!” With a burst of jewelry and her flouncing skirts, Jester squeezes onto the other end of Molly’s headstone. “We wanted to spend more with you!”

“Now that you’re interesting again,” adds Nott, taking a seat at the base of the stone with Fjord. He reaches up to wink at Molly, “Hey, roomie.”

“I thought I should get to know you as well,” says the new voice. Molly remembers that his name is Essek. “We, ah...we are both purple, so that is something we already have in common.”

Molly laughs at that. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Caleb. “It’s like there are two of you now. Like your shadow. Or a duplicate.”

“I am still the funny one,” Caleb says. “I plan on defending that title. Even from you.”

Molly laughs again, and this time, he does turn. He can see that the whole group have gathered around him now, sitting beside him, standing behind him, in the grass.

They are all so tired. They are all much stronger. Molly has gathered from the scars on their bodies—as well as from the scars on his own—just how powerful they must be now. He knows that he isn’t the same, either. Sometimes his blood feels like its boiling. Sometimes he is moving, and he can swear that it’s through snow.

But the Mighty Nein are here. There are nine of them, now. And that, he thinks, in and of itself, must be a miracle. And as he looks at them now, drinking their presence in, he thinks...

Maybe some things haven’t changed, after all.

—

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[skzfelixity]

Ok random request but um could write something for Han Seojun where he is dating his s/o (who has like waist length hair) and she shows up at school one day with like short shoulder length hair and with a different color. I just got a hair makeover like my hair came to my butt and I decided to cut it and dye it the color I wanted for a while (pastel pink) and like everyone has been telling me I look so different so this CUTE Seojun idea popped up in my head-💀

This idea was so cute and I had fun writing it!!! ALSO YOUR HAIR MUST BE SO COOL! I am sure you look great<3 I hope you enjoy reading it!💖

New Hair | Han Seojun [True Beauty]

Seojun x Fem!Reader (ft. Taehoon, Sooah, Chorong & Juyoung)

Summary: Seojun reacts to your new hair.

Warnings: none

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your house. You didn’t tell anyone about your new hair, you wanted it to be a surprise. You couldn’t wait to see everyone’s reaction, especially your boyfriend’s. Seojun usually picked you up and walked you to school every morning but this time you told him not to. It got him a little suspicious since you didn’t explain why but he chose not to question you, maybe you needed a little space or something.

You had cut your long hair and also dyed it pastel pink, it was undoubtedly a big change. You weren’t sure if Seojun would like it, you never talked about this kind of matter. You didn’t need to worry, this boy supported you in everything you did anyway. However, he has his likes and dislikes when it comes to appearance and you wanted his honest opinion on your new look.

As you were walking through the school’s gate, you could feel everyone staring at you. They threw nice comments about your hair and how beautiful you looked, some waving at you and giving you a thumbs up. You expected the attention, you were kinda popular in school after all. You smiled at them, grateful for their kindness.

“Is that a new girl?” Someone from behind you asked, you just knew this voice belonged to Taehoon.

“That’s Y/N, idiot! Look at her backpack!”

You laughed at the familiar couple playfully fighting with each other. “Hi Sooah, Hi Taehoon!” You turned around to greet them with a bright smile. Sooah gasped and ran to you, leaving Taehoon behind. “Y/N, you look amazing!” She gave you a hug while jumping up and down, obviously happy about your change. You giggled and patted her head to make her stop jumping, “Thank you Sooah.”

“I almost didn’t recognise you!” Taehoon added, “You look beautiful as always.”

Before you got the chance to thank him, Sooah smacked the back of his neck. Her jealousy was too much sometimes. You decided to let them be and with a look of support to Taehoon, you left to find Seojun. Butterflies started growing in your stomach as the time to reveal your hair to him was approaching. Everyone gave positive reactions, you didn’t expect nothing different from your boyfriend but you still had doubts.

As you were going up the stairs, you bumped into Chorong. He was too busy eating his breakfast bars to notice his surroundings. “Y/N?” He narrowed his eyes to take a better look at you. You nodded at him, chuckling at the sight of six chocolate bars in his hands. “Nice change! You look cooler now!”

“Thank you!” You were overjoyed to receive all these compliments today, nevertheless you waited for a certain boy’s opinion. “Have you seen Seojun?”

“He’s in your classroom, probably sleeping on his desk,” he shrugged, taking a bite out of his bar. You headed to the classroom, heart beating faster at every step. Would he like you the same or view you differently after seeing your new hair? Pushing those thoughts aside, you entered the classroom.

Seojun’s had his head down on the desk, eyes closed while facing the window. You stood on his right side, admiring his facial features. You were definitely lucky to have him. You tapped his shoulder in order to wake him up, “Seojun.”

He lifted his head up at the sound of his name being called. He opened his eyes for a second and went back to his previous position, “I have a girlfriend, sorry.”

Assuming by his comment that he only saw the pink colour of your hair, you giggled. At least you found out that he was loyal, not that you didn’t know already. “Seojun, it’s me. Y/N!”

He jerked up and looked at you, his eyes and mouth wide open. He thought that you were so beautiful, he could get a nosebleed. You nervously waved at him, he seemed way too shocked. “You look amazing! This colour really suits you!”

You smiled at him, relieved that he liked it as much as you. Maybe even more because he is a simp. “Now you won’t have that much trouble brushing them,” he reminded you one of the perks of having shorter hair, which in fact was really beneficial. “So you like it?”

“Of course I do!” He ran his fingers through your hair, admiring the colour. No one knew that he actually adored pink and he loved it even more on you. “Should I dye it pastel pink too? So we can match.”

You liked the idea but still you wouldn’t want him to dye his hair just because of you, “Your natural colour is fine, don’t say nonsense!” You both laughed, Seojun was so whipped for you and he never failed to show it.

“Oh shet! My eyes! A goddess!”

Your laughter got interrupted by Juyoung, who hit his head on one of his friends’ back because he was looking at you. Seojun immediately covered you with his body, using his hands to hide your hair. “Mine!” He stuck his tongue out at the younger boy, who rolled his eyes and left. Seojun was known to be overprotective of you, even though he had no reason to be. You weren’t going anywhere any time soon, you’re both stuck with each other.

“You know what? Let’s go, I want to show you off!” He grabbed your hand and started dragging you in the hallway. He wanted the other students to see what he had pulled. He was so proud of you and so in love with you, he wanted to shout it to the whole world.

“Class is about to start, Jun!” You placed your free hand on his grip, stopping him from walking any farther. He sighed at his plan getting ruined, “We’ll walk through the school during breaks.”

You didn’t have a choice, not that you minded though. It was one of his ways of showing his love for you. You kissed his cheek and agreed. If the stares of people got too much for you, he would take you somewhere quiet. You were sure of it, one of his priorities was making you comfortable.

You had to deal with his staring during periods, throwing winks and hearts at you from time to time. Thankfully, he didn’t get caught by the teachers, he is a sneaky one. He loves you regardless of your appearance but he thought you looked really breathtaking with your new hair length and colour.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dreaming in reality, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Again. He’s less drunk this time, but no less weird. Then the right guy shows up. Min Yoongi. You know, the guy you fucked in Jungkook’s bed that one time. Guess he can convince you to do anything. Like, say, take Jungkook’s virginity. Don’t worry, he’ll help.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; violence? someone gets slapped lol; technically Jungkook’s first time; smut (fem reader, threesome, slightly degrading dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex, partial handjob); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; Yoongi is a very bad boy and he knows it; JK is blond and wearing his ‘ON’ and ‘Dynamite’ GDA 2021 outfits (except w/o the white blazer)

a–dick–ted au yes that’s what I’ve decided to call this this was supposed to be just more Yoongi smut but then Jungkook decided he’d like this to be about him, what can you do?

--

"Can you pick me up tonight?"

"Mhm. What are you wearing?"

A deep chuckle. "Eager to undress me?"

"I'm doing you a favor. There's no guarantee you'll get more than that."

"Hmmm." That low raspy voice did not believe you. "White dress shirt, black jeans. Can't miss me."

He hung up. 

White shirt, black jeans. You remembered to lock your car doors this time, so you turned around to press the button so he could get in. The door opened and the young man slid inside, reeking of alcohol. Wait. Some kind of belt harness around a thin waist. Ashy blond hair. Hand tattoos. Thick thighs. Chiseled jaw.

Fuck!

Again?

"I need to talk to you, noona."

"Get out."

Jeon Jungkook was not as drunk as before. He was definitely drunk, but not piss drunk like last time. His eyes were unfocused and he was nervously biting his pink lower lip. The mole underneath bounced up and down as he chewed it mercilessly. He swallowed and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular pecs. Oh, thank the Lord, Jungkook remembered to wear a shirt underneath, although it was a very low-cut white t-shirt. He kept running his hand through his currently blond hair tensely, revealing the shadow root. Well, it was well done at least. He had a good hairstylist. You hadn't realized Jungkook changed it, so he must have done it recently.

Probably to get attention and remind every human being that he was hot.

Blergh.

You still weren't convinced he wasn't a dirty little fuckboy.

"Why are you sitting in my car showing off your nervous ticks?" you said irritably.

"I gotta ask you something."

His black boots were a little dirty from the party. Outside, the drunks were as loud as ever, with the same seven girls on the porch craning their heads to gawk at Jungkook in your car. Different house, same scene, and drunk Jeon Jungkook sitting in your passenger's seat, once again being the wrong guy sauntering into your car. 

Where the fuck was the correct guy?

"Look, psycho, fucking spit it out or yeet. I'm not repeating what happened last time."

Jungkook's dark brown eyes flickered to you, turning his body to face yours. Running his tattooed right hand through his bleached hair over and over, spreading the golden strands, the ashy tone catching the low light of the lampposts. Jaw flexed, tiny pink tongue darting out and licking his lips. He was a little sweaty, cheeks hollowed in a little with how hard he was breathing. 

You raised an eyebrow. 

"You have ten seconds before I kick you out and believe me when I say I have leg strength."

"Are you and Yoongi-hyung dating?" Jungkook asked suddenly. 

What?

"What?"

You made a face at him.

He sucked in a breath, brows furrowing at your response. “Because I could have sworn…”

Your mind flickered back to that faithful night. Shit. You shouldn’t have let Min Yoongi convince you to sleep right there in Jungkook’s apartment. You remembered his wicked smirk, his deep, raspy voice in your ear, Jungkook’s not going to know and don’t you want to do bad things with me? Don’t you want to be bad with me? He could make you do anything at this point. You two fell asleep on Jungkook’s bed. Next to hungover Jungkook.

Naked.

You mentally slapped yourself.

“What made you come to that conclusion?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes.

Jungkook tilted his head, sucking in his cheek. It made a sharp sound and his tongue flashed against his white teeth for a split second. You almost flinched. He pursed his lips and kept his gaze on you. You were wearing a tight white high-necked crop top, oversized black hoodie, and high-waisted black shorts. Dark pink and violent violet chunky sneakers. Almost no makeup. Hair tied back into low pigtails with one pink and one purple scrunchie to match your sneakers.

Oh shit. The hoodie wasn’t yours.

Hopefully Jungkook wasn’t perceptive enough to figure that out.

“Noona.”

He said it strangely, breathlessly. Almost sexually. You recoiled a little. Jungkook was leaning forward, giving you a clear view down his shirt, blond hair falling into his face, covering one eye. His alcoholic breath floating towards you, far too close for your liking.

“I…” Jungkook swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want… to…”

The door to your passenger’s seat was roughly yanked open.

Jungkook jumped, throwing his back into the seat, brown eyes wide and staring at the newcomer. White dress shirt, two sizes too big, with ties at the wrists to cinch in the bishop-style sleeves. Black jeans, distressed with several mismatched patches. Silver chains on his black leather belt and around his pale neck. Black hair, pointed dark eyes like a cat.

A single, cocked eyebrow.

“Let me guess,” drawled Min Yoongi, the correct guy you were supposed to be picking up, looking from you to Jeon Jungkook, who was impossibly flat against the car seat. Yoongi sounded amused. “He just waltzed in.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, I locked my doors this time.”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, who still seemed mildly terrified, and then back to you. The glint in his dark brown eyes was far from innocent. His fair cheeks were a little pink.

“Ah, so you wanted Jungkook in your car?” There was an edge to his voice, almost dangerous, but to you it was Yoongi’s usual teasing. Jungkook looked like he was preparing for his own death. Both of you ignored him for the moment.

“You said white dress shirt and black jeans,” you scowled. You gestured Jungkook up and down. “Hello?”

Jungkook’s thighs tensed and bulged against his tight jeans. Eyes still as wide as saucers. He hadn’t blinked in a good thirty seconds.

“We have the same excellent taste and style. How fortunate for you,” Yoongi purred. Then he finally patted Jungkook’s thigh, making him start and let out a panicked squeak. “You want noona to drop you off, Jungkookie? She’d be happy to.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you gritted out.

“Yes, she would,” Yoongi said cheerfully. He slammed the front car door and opened the backseat. You rolled your eyes and stared straight ahead. Even from here you could smell the whiskey. Yoongi hummed and you snuck a glance at him through the rearview mirror.

He looked positively beside himself with glee.

Hmph. Fine.

His loss.

“You bleached your hair, Jungkook?” Yoongi said absentmindedly as you started up the car.

Jungkook ran a hand through it once again. “Uh, yeah. What do you think, hyung?”

“Hm, looks good. Too much upkeep for me, personally. Seatbelt.”

Jungkook hastily went to grab his seatbelt and put it on. Too bad. You were ready to brake hard and send him flying out the windshield. Just kidding. Maybe. Well, you would have to be going real fucking fast for that to happen. Maybe over ninety or some shit. You pulled out of the neighborhood of houses, already knowing what direction to go in to the correct apartment complex. Yoongi and Jungkook lived in the same building.

So convenient.

You thinned your lips into a line, ignoring their conversation, until Yoongi snapped his fingers and called your name to get your attention. You glared at him through the rearview mirror. Yoongi’s legs were wide open, flopped in your backseat. He grinned at you and placed his hands on the inside of his jean-covered thighs.

Fucking tease.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to dye your hair at some point?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

Jungkook sat up, looking at you. You didn’t look at him. “Oh? You’re going blond too?”

You snorted. “I said I wanted to dye my hair, which means a color.”

“What color?” Yoongi asked lazily.

Your eyes flickered to him in the rearview mirror again. He flexed his long fingers and pressed them against his jeans. You tucked your tongue in your cheek. Yoongi was aware Jungkook couldn’t see him and he was also aware you were watching him. Your eyes went back to the road.

Yoongi was also aware that because of Jungkook’s presence, neither of you were getting any tonight, so he resorted to teasing you like the bad boy he was.

“I dunno. Pick one for me,” you said impassively.

Yoongi chuckled, a deep, husky sound, revealing his pink gums and straight white teeth.

“Red.”

-

“N-noona?”

You curled your lip, looking around you. Ugh. You hated parties like this. So loud, so annoying, so many idiots. You didn’t understand why Yoongi came to these things. It was probably because of his lively friends. Being social like this was probably a great thing, but this was not your scene.

“No time to chat, Jungkook. Have you seen Yoongi?”

Jungkook was flapping his gums at you. He was still blond. He must be keeping up with his hair care because it still looked soft and ashy. It was swept to one side this night. Powder blue dress shirt, tight against his muscular pecs and white slacks that seemed to be choking his thighs. Brave man, wearing white around this much alcohol and lunacy.

You had to admit, Jeon Jungkook had guts looking like a prince to a peasant’s party.

“Where is he?” you muttered. “Kim Seokjin called and told me to get him because he was asleep.”

“U-uh…” Jungkook looked around as you stepped into the party house, your heavy black boots thudding against the hardwood floor. Short black skirt with silver chains and a black hoodie that said ‘WHATCHU MEAN?’ in neon lime green across your chest. Phone and keys in your hoodie pocket. Other than that, you weren’t wearing anything as of note. Oh.

Except.

Your usual ‘fuck off’ mentality.

“I haven’t s-seen him in the past hour,” Jungkook stammered.

“Fat lot of help you are.” You clicked your tongue and moved past him.

“You dyed your hair,” Jungkook blurted suddenly.

You turned your head and looked back at him. “Yeah, so?”

Your hair was now a gradient from a long black shadow root, to dark purple berry, to bright neon red. It was half-tied up with a black scrunchie, a few strands hanging around your face. Jungkook kept staring at it. You raised an eyebrow and turned away from him. Eh, you had no time for this. You needed to grab Yoongi and get the fuck out of here.

“I-I’ll look you help.”

You raised your eyebrows as Jungkook squeezed past you, his hard back pressing against your arm.

“You can’t even speak, you drunkard,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I mean, I’ll help y-you look, noona,” Jungkook corrected himself, licking his lips nervously, running his right hand through his hair.

He’s hopeless.

Well, better than going alone.

Wordlessly, you followed him throughout the party, opening doors and craning your head over the bodies. So many topless people. Ugh, it was pretty late. By the time you two reached the back of the house, you never wanted to see another nipple ever again. You saw Kim Seokjin at the karaoke machine, blasting eardrums with what you assumed were supposed to be high notes, but, in reality, was simply screaming.

You didn’t even want to walk up to him to ask.

“He might be upstairs,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Lead the way,” you sighed, annoyed this was taking longer than it needed to.

You made your way up the stairs, pressing yourself against the railing to avoid touching people. Kept your hands in your kangaroo pocket and a scowl on your face. Jungkook suddenly stopped and you collided into him. Fuck. Why did he feel like he was made out of rocks? Stupid muscles.

“Hold on.”

Some guy was sprawled all over the middle of the hallway, unconscious.

“I’ll just step over him.”

Jungkook growled. “No. What if he wakes up and looks up your skirt?” He bent over and picked him up, propping him against the wall. You raised an eyebrow. Like anyone cared what was up your skirt besides Min Yoongi. Whatever. If he wanted to play the part of noble prince, you weren’t going stop him. You waited as Jungkook pushed the guy’s chin down to his chest and motioned you to the hall, towards the many doors. Probably mostly bedrooms. You winced. Probably going to see more nipples. And dicks. And pussy.

Sigh.

And, yep, you were right.

Jungkook tried to shield your eyes, but to be honest, he looked way more scarred than you. You merely shook your head and moved on, door to door. Opened one and saw a girl in a tight black dress crawling on a bed, over a guy in a black biker jacket and acid wash jeans. The hole in the knee was so big you could see half of his pale leg. Hmph. Why bother even wearing pants?

You were about to close the door when you paused. Wait. You’ve seen that black mop of hair before. The girl was kissing down his neck, yanking down the white t-shirt and ripping it. You recognized the grunt of sleepy annoyance.

“Get off him.”

The girl shot up; red lipstick smeared from making out with his neck. You stepped inside and jerked your head towards the door. Voice cold and unrelenting.

“Out.”

She furrowed her brows at you. “Who the fuck are you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Dude’s asleep. You shouldn’t take advantage of someone who’s asleep.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” she shot back defiantly.

You snorted inelegantly. “No, he’s not. Don’t be stupid.”

The girl shoved herself off the bed, advancing on you, nasty snarl on her lips. “How would you know? Who do you think you are?”

“Not an idiot,” you barked sharply, completely forgetting Jungkook was behind you, gawking at this entire exchange. You looked her up and down and took a step towards her, the aggravation of the past hour reaching breaking point. All that time spent getting here, not being able to find Yoongi, and then discovering some bitch crawling all over him was pissing you off. Like everyone else, alcohol clung to her like the plague. She was furious, ready to catfight you, although you were pretty sure you were going to win this one because you were sober and your boots were a lot more stable than her tall heels.

“Look here, bitch, leave me and my boyfriend alo–”

You slapped her.

Hard.

Not holding back, not making a sound, just straight up slapped her across the face. The sound was so loud it could be heard over the bass of the music. She nearly crumpled at the force, gasping and choking at air as she stumbled, eyes wide in disbelief, slim hand cradling her face.

“He’s not your boyfriend,” you growled. Your voice was absolute zero with how cold it was. “He will never be your boyfriend. Now get the fuck out of my face before I rearrange yours into the next century.”

She squeaked at you.

Your eyes narrowed and you raised your hand again. She bolted, stumbling on her heels, seeing Jungkook staring, opening her mouth to say something, but you made an inhuman, grating noise deep in your throat. Her shaking eyes connected with yours and you cocked your head in the direction of the door, popping your neck loudly.

She scrambled out of there like her life depended on it.

It did, because you had enough at this point.

“Dumb bitch,” you spat, before releasing the tension from your shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook’s mouth wide open, deer-in-headlights look on his face. “What?”

“W… Why do you look so hot when you’re angry?”

You scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck, you are damn hot when you’re angry.”

Deep, raspy voice that made your spine tingle. You turned your head to see Min Yoongi on his elbows, licking his pink lips. He was definitely drunker this time, cheeks flushed. His fair skin on his neck and cheeks were covered in red lipstick marks. You clicked your tongue at him.

“When did you wake up?”

Yoongi smirked.

You frowned.

“Maybe when you slapped her.” His dark eyes glittered in the low light of the bedroom, lips curving higher and revealing his teeth. “Maybe when you got her attention.” Full-on, open-mouthed smirk now, devilish and wicked. “Maybe when you opened the door.”

A muscle in your forehead twitched. You strode over, looking down. Yoongi slowly lifted his head, pink tongue sliding out and tracing his teeth, cocking an eyebrow. You clenched your jaw.

“I like your hair,” Yoongi purred softly. “You took my advice.”

“I didn’t care what color it was,” you responded evenly. “I left the hairstylist do what she wanted.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow. “She made your hair match your body. Hot and sexy.”

You matched his raised brow. “You saying my hair wasn’t attractive before?”

Crafty dark brown eyes on yours, intoxicating you like whiskey.

“It always needed me to mess it up before it was truly as sexy as you.”

“Are you guys sure you’re not dating?”

Oh right.

Jungkook was still here.

You turned your head to face him. You hadn’t even noticed that he had walked all the way up to the bed, standing next to you. The door was closed. Who closed it? It was also locked. Your brows furrowed and your eyes flickered back to Jungkook. He was watching you, blond hair covering one chocolate orb, pink lips wet and slightly parted. Tan skin radiant in the low light.

“What are you still doing here?”

His visible eye shifted down your body, pausing at your legs and then shifting to Yoongi. Yoongi gave him a neutral expression. The eyes shifted back to you.

“I was going to help you carry him if hyung was still asleep.” His voice had dropped several octaves.

“Well, he’s obviously awake,” you said dismissively.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, more blond hair sliding down, shadowing his face.

“You want me to leave so you can fuck him? Or so he can fuck you?” Jungkook accused.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I told you he liked you.”

You exhaled, shifting your gaze to Yoongi. He was wiping the lipstick off his neck with the collar of his ruined shirt. He looked displeased, nose scrunching as he did so.

“Wanting me to desire him is not the same as liking someone.” You swung your head back to Jungkook, ticking your chin at him. “Isn’t that so, Jungkook?”

There was a moment of silence.

If silence could be bass-boosted music, screaming downstairs, and a bottle smashing somewhere nearby. But in this random bedroom, it was as if time stopped, you staring at Jungkook, Yoongi looking up to witness what was about to unfold, and your slow realization that Jungkook was not answering fast enough.

The younger man shook his blond bushel of hair very, very slowly.

“No, noona.”

His other eye was revealed, both of them trained on you.

“I want you to take my virginity.”

Silence.

He must be joking.

“And there it is, out in the open,” Yoongi mused.

Jungkook continued, hands in his pockets, chest sticking out from under the tight blue dress shirt.

“Hyung knows this. I told him.”

You let out a soft breath. “You know, Jungkook, you could get any bitch in this house.”

“Don’t want a bitch,” Jungkook retorted, dangerous edge to his voice, slipping into his Busan satoori. “Want you, noona.”

He was way too serious to not mean it. You tucked your hands into your hoodie pocket and flicked your head to remove red strands from your face. 

"Kinda out of left field, kid," you muttered.

You heard Yoongi sit up on the bed and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He shook his shoulders out and hooked his legs over the edge of the bed, sandwiching one of your thighs between his own. His shirt hung down, ruined and covered with red lipstick from where he tried to wipe it off his neck and cheeks. His neck was pink with irritation.

"Not really," Yoongi chuckled. "He's been eyeing you for a while now. You never noticed because you're too busy being crabby."

He wasn't touching you with his hands and insulting your character instead.

"Speak for yourself, grump."

Yoongi squeezed your thigh with his and you involuntarily shuddered at the slight skin on skin contact due to the giant hole in his pants. Shit. Yoongi snickered. 

"Are you guys dating?" Jungkook snapped irritably.

"No."

Both Yoongi and you said it at the same time, glaring at each other. Jungkook might as well have been a lamp. You stared deep into those mischievous brown orbs, black hair messy and covering his brows, teasing smile on his lips. Dating wasn’t the word for it. You weren’t sure there was a word for what Yoongi and you were doing. You could tell he didn’t know either.

It wasn’t dating, that’s for sure.

"Did you guys fuck on my bed or not?"

Before you could respond, Yoongi broke your gaze and looked straight at Jungkook. Jungkook's jaw was clenched tight, dark eyes flashing. Yoongi's voice was slipping into his Daegu satoori as well, deepening and slightly slurred from whiskey. 

"We did."

You clicked your tongue.

Great. Just great. 

"Ate her out and fucked her hard, all over your sheets. Right next to you. She even touched you."

"An accident," you hissed. 

Yoongi ignored you. "Her hand slid up your abs and chest." He chuckled. "It was sexy. You have a nice body, Jungkookie."

"Stop telling him this shit." You raised your hand to smack Yoongi in the arm but he whipped his head back to you, grabbing your wrist out of the air. You stiffened at the touch. He turned your palm to face Jungkook and directed his attention back to him. 

"This hand, in fact."

Were you surprised? No. That was the game. Push the limits, up the ante. You just didn’t think Yoongi would tell Jungkook something like that. Maybe he wouldn’t if he was fully sober. But Yoongi wouldn’t regret it either. He would roll with the wave, as usual.

You were a little irked that you weren’t the one who took the plunge first.

You finally snuck a glance at Jungkook. His jaw was no longer tense and his cheeks were flushed pink. He raised his head to look at you, blond locks swinging, and you looked away. Fucking Yoongi. Always trying to cause trouble. But that's why you kept fucking him. Because he was always finding ways to make your life interesting. 

Maybe you were addicted to the adrenaline he gave you.

Maybe you were just addicted to Yoongi. 

You sensed movement. You tried to pull your wrist out of Yoongi's grasp but he held it tightly. You finally looked back to glare at him, only to be greeted by the sight of Jungkook's blue shirt mostly unbuttoned, his sculpted abs and chest fully on display. Your eyes widened, taking a step back, realizing how close he was. Yoongi yanked you back, grin on his lips. 

A beat passed. 

Your gaze locked with his. 

Don't you dare, Min Yoongi. 

He planted your hand on Jungkook's torso. 

You tried to twist away, but Yoongi held you there, pressing your palm into Jungkook's hard muscles. The younger man sucked in a breath, surveying you through his lashes. A strange shiver traveled from your hand to your spine, pooling down to your core, setting it aflame. Yoongi slid your hand up to Jungkook's pecs. You could feel how hot and heavy Jungkook's breathing was on the back of your hand. His heartbeat raced under your fingers. 

You gulped. 

"Yoongi." Your eyes were on Jungkook and his blown-out pupils, blond bangs all over his forehead. Your pulse roared in your ears. "You said he was sappy. That it had to be the love of his life."

Yoongi chuckled. 

"Noona," Jungkook replied for him in his husky voice. "I’ve been planning for it to be you."

Your eyes flickered back to Yoongi. His other arm slid around your legs, pulling you to him. He made you breathless, looking down into those devilish eyes, pink lips parting a little. You could feel his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin, making you tremble with his touch.

"He asked you to take it," Yoongi purred softly. 

You inhaled deeply. Whiskey. Leather. Yoongi. Your hand was still on Jungkook's chest. You dug your nails into his skin a little. Jungkook moaned, breathy and deep. 

"I'm not taking anything," you whispered. 

Yoongi's hand released your wrist and slid up the back of your hand, each of his long fingers sliding between yours, pressing your joined touch into Jungkook’s chest. Fingers spread over his skin, his breathing vibrating though your palm. All Jungkook had to do was take a step back. 

Why wasn't he taking a step back?

Yoongi squeezed your fingers with his. You could feel the heat building inside you. Desire. His voice became smokey. Lustful. Purring your name softly. 

He could make you do anything when his voice became like that. 

"I'm telling you to take it."

Your mouth went dry.

"Why?"

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his chin right between your covered breasts. So close. Your heartbeat fluttered. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so very much. You wanted to kiss that naughty mouth, the mouth suggesting sinful and treacherous ideas. Whenever you were with Yoongi, danger always seemed like a good thing.

"Because you feel good when you do bad things."

God, Min Yoongi was a bad boy. 

"And I love watching you do bad things."

Dark orbs glittering with trouble. 

"I’m here with you."

I’m here with you.

His arm around your legs tightened. Your panties were absolutely soaked. Yoongi had you right where he wanted you. He knew it too, even as you pursed your lips. Yoongi finally looked away from you.

"You don't mind that, right, Jungkookie?"

Jungkook shook his head quickly. "No, hyung. Whatever..." He paused, knowing what he was about to say was wrong. His eyes flickered to you. You didn’t look at him. You just stared at the black pile of hair that was Min Yoongi.

Wondering what was going on in that head of his.

"Whatever it takes."

Yoongi removed his hand from Jungkook’s chest. You pulled yours back quickly, still not looking at Jungkook. Yoongi placed his large hands on your hips. Raised his head. Fuck. Trapping you in his devious eyes. He mouthed words at you. So sexy. So fuckable. You mouthed words back. You’re bad. Yoongi grinned, licking his teeth.

“Stand in front of us, Jungkook.”

And Yoongi spun you around to face him, pushing you into his arms. Jungkook’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place. And, for once, Jungkook wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t stumbling into your car by mistake, he wasn’t reeking of alcohol and nervous ticks. If anything.

Jungkook smelled good.

You were staring into his tan chest. Slowly, you looked up. Up his pecs, up his prominent collarbones, up his shapely neck. You could smell the cologne, fresh like clean laundry mixed with the sharpness of the sea. Your eyes continued up, up his sharp jaw, up to the tiny mole under his lower lip, up to his high cheekbones, up into those chocolate orbs. His blond hair hovered over his eyes, shrouding them with gold. Jungkook sucked in a breath as you made eye contact. You cocked an eyebrow.

“I still don’t see why it has to be me.”

Jungkook licked his lips, leaning in.

“Has to be you, noona,” he whispered, breath hot against your lips.

For some reason your heart was beating fast now. Was it Yoongi’s hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them? Or was it Jeon Jungkook, pupils dilated and grip tight on your arms, nearly shirtless in front of you?

“I dream about you,” Jungkook breathed. “All the time. The only woman I’ve ever dreamed about touching me, teasing me, feeling all of me.” He frowned a little, tilting his head. “I had sex dreams before, but none of them felt real. None of them were like the ones I had with you. The ones with you were always extremely detailed. It was like all the things you did were really happening. I could finish with them.”

You didn’t have to guess what that meant.

“I could feel everything.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, ash blond strands mixing with dark red.

“Your nails digging into my skin, you moaning above me.”

His eyes burned with determination. Yoongi’s hands slid up your legs, fingertips sliding under your soaking panties. You were so distracted by Jungkook’s words that you barely felt it. But your body remembered. Your body remembered that orgasm right above Jungkook, Yoongi’s tongue inside you, your hand on his abs, nails curling into them as you came. Jungkook’s voice was so low that it felt as if your heartbeat was resonating with it.

“Make my dreams real.”

Yoongi circled your clit with his index finger, not touching it, making you gasp.

“Taint me, noona,” Jungkook murmured.

You pressed your lips against his and Yoongi pressed his finger against your clit. You whimpered into Jungkook’s mouth, hand slipping inside his shirt to hold his waist, kissing him deeper. Jungkook’s hand came up to cup your face, holding you close as you moaned, feeling Yoongi stroke your sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, working you up. His other hand was holding your ass, squeezing it hard. In comparison, Jungkook’s lips were soft, tongue hesitantly sliding into your lips. You latched around it, sucking on it roughly. Jungkook squeaked, trying to pull away, but you held on, tugging as you bobbed your head back and forth, eyes cracking open as you moaned deep in your throat.

Jungkook was staring at you, fascinated.

You released his tongue and snaked yours into his mouth. Pushing it in, sliding it back out, steadily and deliberately. Jungkook’s eyelashes fluttered, pressing his body into yours, needy cries in his chest, trying to get more. Pleasure spread throughout your hips, spurred upward by Yoongi’s touch. You felt heady and tense, increasing the force you were using to fuck Jungkook’s mouth, breathing in shallow gasps, closing your eyes again, so close, so close. So wrong, making out with Jungkook as Yoongi stimulated your clit to orgasm.

So wrong, but so, so fucking good.

You sucked your tongue back and moaned directly into Jungkook’s mouth as you came, legs shaking, clit throbbing against Yoongi’s fingers as your panties soaked even more, the scent of sex suddenly prominent in this random bedroom. Jungkook gasped, body shuddering and shaking at your exhale, roughly shoving you into his hard chest. Your crotch hit his and you could feel his erection through his tight pants.

The party kept thriving, bass booming the walls, blind to the events about to unfold.

Jungkook drew back, panting. You felt Yoongi withdraw his hand, heard him lick it off. But you were staring at Jungkook, at his swollen lips, at his blue shirt half-pulled off from your touch, revealing his right shoulder covered in black tattoos, blond hair covering half his face.

Beautiful and dangerous, like an angelic incubus.

You felt Yoongi’s hands on your hips again, unzipping your skirt. Slipping it down. Your body reacted, kicking it away. Jungkook’s eyes were fixated on your black panties, pushed to one side from Yoongi’s touch, soaked with your juices.

“Take off your shirt, Jungkook,” Yoongi said as he reached down to unzip your boots.  

Jungkook yanked his shirt out of his pants and tossed it aside, watching Yoongi slowly strip you. Taking your boots and setting them next to the bed, gripping your hoodie and yanking it over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, but he dumped it next to him, showing you the phone and keys were still in the center pocket. You frowned at him, but Yoongi shrugged, unhooking your black bra. You held onto it, covering yourself. Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Let him see the tits.”

You clicked your tongue. Then you turned back to face Jungkook, challenging him.

“Jungkook can come and see for himself.”

Jungkook swallowed, taking a step towards you. Chewing on his lip, eyes fixated on your hands holding up your bra. You felt Yoongi’s fingers hook around the sides of your panties. Jungkook stopped right in front of you. Reached forward and gripped one of the bra cups. You held tight, not letting go. Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he yanked at it, pulling it out of your grasp.

You lowered your hands.

“Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “They’re prettier than I thought.” His hand raised, but then he stopped, looking at you hesitantly. “Can I… touch them?”

You arched a brow. “Never touched tits before?”

“I want to ask you,” Jungkook replied softly. “I want to know you want it too.”

Chocolate eyes framed in gold, enchanting you.

You reached up and took his wrist, guiding his hand to your chest. You were breathing hard, making them bounce a little. Pressed his palm into your hard nipple, shivering at the different hand, the different feeling. You felt Yoongi slide your panties down, down. You slid Jungkook’s hand down, wrapping his fingers around your nipple. He gasped, rolling the nub between his fingers, watching your face as you moaned, Yoongi’s fingers crawling between your legs once again.

You pointed to your other nipple.

“Mouth, here.” Stared into Jungkook’s ravenous eyes. “Please.”

Jungkook bent down and licked your nipple, coating it with saliva. Your hand slid up the back of his head, tangling in the soft blond locks, pulling him closer.

“More, Jungkook…”

He whimpered your name, pinching your nipple as you said his. You gasped softly as his lips closed around your nipple, sucking lightly, tongue pressed against the tip and moving it around, rubbing the other at the same time. You sank your teeth into your lower lip as you felt Yoongi slide two fingers into you, so easy because he had made you cum beforehand, fucking you as Jungkook made out with your tits. You stared down Jungkook’s muscular back, admiring the way his muscles rippled as he moved. Your hips bucked in Yoongi’s hand, leaning forward so he could finger you deeper, shoving your nipple into Jungkook’s mouth. He sucked hard, nipping lightly, and you threw your head back, pleasure flowing all over. Jungkook switched sides and hands, rubbing your wet nipple with his thumb as he teased the other, flicking the hardened nub with his tongue. Rougher, matching Yoongi’s pace in your pussy, shoving his fingers so far into your pussy that you felt his knuckles.

Yoongi against your back, purring your name.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, low and raspy. “Cum all over my hand as Jungkook abuses your nipples.”

Fuck, his satoori, his words.

Yoongi had you wrapped around his fingers in all senses.

“Mm, fuck, fuck…”

You moaned loudly as you came, legs shuddering, rutting your breasts into Jungkook’s face as your hand pressed him into your tits, grinding your hips into Yoongi’s hand as your pussy clenched around his fingers, drenching them with your orgasm once again. Jungkook moaned into your chest, burying his nose into your tits, tongue pressed against your skin.

“Ah, fuck, you taste so good, noona…”

Yoongi chuckled, slowly pulling his fingers out of you.

“You haven’t tasted anything, Jungkook.”

And then Yoongi fell back against the bed, taking you with him. You had to release Jungkook’s head, whining at the loss of his warmth. Yoongi dipped his knees down and shoved them between your thighs, spreading them wide. He slid you down his body, forcing you to expose your wet pussy to Jungkook’s wide, voracious eyes.

“Have a taste.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to you. At this point, it was doomed. You wanted Jungkook’s tongue and your needed it now. Your voice was grating, tainted with lust.

“Get on your knees and taste me, Jungkook,” you growled.

Jungkook obeyed immediately, kneeling before you and crawling up to your thighs, extending his pink tongue, nearly drooling. Chocolate eyes watching your face.

Yoongi shoved his wet fingers into your lips.

You grunted in protest, but then Jungkook’s tongue touched your wet slit, lapping greedily as he watched Yoongi’s fingers slide in and out of your mouth. You moaned around them, licking off your taste as Jungkook moaned into your pussy, coating his tongue with your sweet, thick juices.

“O-oh, fuck, hyung, noona…” he panted hotly into your core. “Tastes so fucking good.”

“Told you,” Yoongi chuckled triumphantly, slowly fucking your mouth.

“Wanna be in here so bad, hyung…”

You make a gargled noise around his fingers and he pulled them out, humming in his chest so your head vibrated with the sound.

“I’m not taking him raw,” you gasped out as Jungkook’s tongue swiped over your clit. Your breathing hitched as he lapped at it experimentally and he continued after witnessing your reaction. Your hand slid down and gripped Yoongi’s wrist, moan torn out of you as Jungkook’s licking intensified. Almost too much, forcing you to tighten your core, juices leaking out of your slit and onto his chin.

“Don’t worry. I came prepared.”

Your jaw tightened as you neared orgasm. Of course, Yoongi came prepared.

“You planned this.”

“Did I?”

Far too amused and teasing to be innocent. Your back arched as Jungkook increased the suction, your head tipped back against Yoongi’s chest, barely being able to see him upside down, mouth open as you panted. Yoongi smirked at you.

“Or did I simply assist little Jungkookie in convincing noona to take his virginity?”

His words and your orgasm hit you like a truck, hands flying up to grip Yoongi’s shoulders as you nearly screamed Jungkook’s name, thighs threatening to clamp his head if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s strong legs spreading them out. Your body fell limp onto Yoongi’s chest, flooding Jungkook’s mouth with your orgasm. Jungkook groaned, drinking it up, hands coming up to hold your hips down as he sucked it out of you.

“Not all of it, Jungkook,” Yoongi warned. “Keep her wet for you.”

Jungkook whined, drawing back, lips shiny and glossy with your cum. His pink tongue snaked out, swiped over his lips, scooping it all into his mouth, the action obscene and arousing all at once.

“Fuck, noona’s pussy tastes so good…”

Yoongi lifted your limp body and dragged you up the bed, placing his head on the pillows and positioning you on top of him. You scoffed, back and ass pressed against Yoongi’s still fully clothed body.

“You want him to fuck me on top of you?”

“Of course,” Yoongi answered smugly. “I can help him get into position and he can get back at me for fucking you on top of him.”

“You didn–”

Yoongi pinched your nipples, cutting you off as he flicked the sensitive nubs, turning you into a moaning mess in seconds. Your legs tried to close, but once again Yoongi hooked his around yours and spread them out for Jungkook, who was stripping off his pants. Your eyes widened seeing Jungkook’s cock straining against his boxer briefs. Yoongi had a great dick. The best dick. But Jungkook had never been in a woman before and he was impossibly hard because of it, gasping as he pushed his underwear down, leaking pre-cum everywhere. Either that or he really was very, very turned on by you.

For the first time throughout this entire night, it really hit you that Jungkook actually liked you. That he was not a fuckboy and he genuinely wanted you to take his virginity, so much so that, somehow, he convinced Yoongi, your partner-in-crime, your other half in this long-winded sexual escapade of pushing each other closer and closer to the edge, until one of you fell.

Yoongi clasped his hands around your upper arms, sucking in an excited breath.

Your breathing caught in your throat.

Or maybe.

Maybe both of you had already fallen.

And both of you were twisted enough to be ridiculously turned on by Jungkook crawling onto the bed, eyes glazed with desire, desperate to fuck you. Yoongi tapped your arm and pressed a condom into your palm.

“Put it on him.”

You motioned Jungkook forward and he scooted up, sucking in his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath quivered as you ripped open the condom, reaching awkwardly to roll it down his thick cock. You inhaled sharply, feeling his warmth against your fingers. Your eyes flickered up to him and he swallowed, chest rattling nervously.

“H… How do I…?”

“Hands on the bed,” Yoongi said behind you. Jungkook placed his hands on the bed, on either side of Yoongi’s arms, next to your head. He stared into your eyes. You placed your hands on his hips and scooted him down so he was positioned above you.

“Give me one of my legs, Yoongi,” you said softly, still keeping eye contact. Yoongi let go of your right leg and you raised it, Jungkook moving his hand so you could place your calf on his shoulder.

“Do I just…?”

“Down.”

He missed.

“Try again,” Yoongi whispered gently. “Hyung will help you.”

Jungkook chewed on his lip and lowered his hips again, gasping as Yoongi’s fingers wrapped around his cock and led him to your pussy. You lifted your hips so Yoongi could see better. The head pressed against your entrance.

“A-ah…” you breathed. “There.”

“Push,” Yoongi instructed.

Jungkook slowly slid in. He winced. “She’s too tight.”

“Relax,” Yoongi chided you. “He’s not me. He can’t handle all that yet.”

“I am,” you shot back. “He’s not pushing hard enough.”

Yoongi huffed. “Fine. Shove it all in there, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Won’t that hurt you?”

Instead of waiting for Yoongi to answer, your hands came up and grabbed Jungkook’s hips, forcing his cock deep into you. He yelped at the sudden rush of pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head. You held him down, not letting him move, trying very hard not to tighten around his dick because, holy fuck, Jeon Jungkook had a nice cock, filling you up and stretching you out with his hardness, unforgiving and wonderful, reminding you of Yoongi’s.

Except, well, Yoongi usually didn’t look like he was going to pass out.

You had to bite your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh. Yoongi pinched your arm, already knowing your reaction. You hissed, pulsing around Jungkook’s cock. The younger man moaned, lowering his head, blond hair falling like a curtain. His eyes found yours. Jungkook’s gaze so intense it made your shiver, nails digging into his hips.

Outside the locked bedroom door, someone was yelling at someone else about cheating or something frivolous like that.

“You can move whenever you’re ready, Jungkook,” Yoongi finally said.

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” you interjected.

“Shh, don’t complain.” Yoongi’s hand stroked your red hair, flaring it out on his chest. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Your chest tightened.

You felt yourself get wetter around Jungkook’s cock.

“What did you say to me?” you breathed. One of your hands lowered from Jungkook’s hip and gripped Yoongi’s wrist tightly. The tone of your voice changed, not quite so harsh anymore, turning needy and thin, breathless. Jungkook was watching you curiously. You felt your ears heat.

Yoongi’s free hand slid around your waist. You couldn’t see his face, but you saw Jungkook’s eyes slide upwards, observing his hyung. A mischievous spark suddenly appeared in those dark brown eyes. Yoongi cupped your breast, stroking your nipple lightly. Shallow, tight breaths, waiting for Yoongi’s response.

“I said,” Yoongi drawled. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Oh no.

Oh shit.

Why were you suddenly so horny? It suddenly got so hot, suddenly so aware you were sandwiched between Jeon Jungkook’s hard dick and Min Yoongi’s fully clothed body, and Jungkook was going to fuck you into this random bed and into Yoongi himself. So very wrong. So very bad.

And you wanted it.

Jungkook raised his hips and pushed back into you, clenching his jaw. You were so wet that it was easy, not enough for your sudden hunger.

“Not too far,” Yoongi instructed. “You’re going to fall out if you pull out too far.” Yoongi nudged your hip. “Up.” You raised your hips and pressed your thigh against your chest. “Jungkook, angle yourself higher.”

Jungkook shifted and got more on his knees. “Like this?”

“Mhm. Go harder.”

Jungkook slapped his hips into you and you gasped, pressing your head into Yoongi’s chest. He stopped, looking worried.

“She’s fine.”

“Are you su–?”

“Jungkook,” you snarled. “Listen to him and just fuck my damn hole so I can get off.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your dirty words. Yoongi chuckled.

“She’ll be fine, Jungkook. Focus on yourself for now. Don’t go faster or you’ll cum too fast,” Yoongi cautioned. “At least for the first time. Go harder so you can feel it all.”

Jungkook bit his lip and began to slowly, but roughly, fuck you. Smacking your hips together with force, gasping at every descent, your pussy squeezing the full length when it was inside you. His gasps turned into moans, your breathy name, eyes closing as he thrust into you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook groaned. “Fuck, she’s so wet, so tight…”

“Like your dreams?” Yoongi teased.

Jungkook seemed not to notice. “Better. Fuck, so much better, hyung, oh my God…”

“Harder,” Yoongi commanded. “I know you can go harder, Jungkookie.”

You moaned deeply as Jungkook rammed his hips into you, the wet squelch loud and lewd, so obvious if someone was listening outside, even through the music. But none of you cared, none of you noticed the bed squeaking as Yoongi spurred Jungkook on gently, having him increase the pace, making your body shudder with pleasure, mouth opening and tongue hanging out as you gasped for breath.

“You wanna cum, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, becoming hard under you as you cried out in pleasure, the base of Jungkook’s cock splattered with your juices.

“Not yet,” Jungkook whined.

“Alright, stop for a second.”

Yoongi placed a hand on Jungkook’s waist and pushed him all the way into you. You whimpered, so close to orgasm but cut off by Jungkook stopping, clenching around his cock as the head hit you deep inside.

Yoongi dropped his voice, speaking to you.

“Give him a hug.”

You gripped Jungkook’s cock and pulsated around it. Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back as his cock throbbed against your walls, roughly massaged by your pussy.

“Oh, fuck me…”

Jungkook began to move again, harder and faster now, lost in his lust, chasing his pleasure.

“Doesn’t it feel nice?” Yoongi purred to you. Your heartbeat skipped as Jungkook pounded you into Yoongi, biting your lip hard and whimpering as he fucked you mercilessly, lack of practice making it an erratic rhythm, watching his thick cock pump in and out of you, so good, so rough, using you.

Your name drifted from Yoongi’s lips, smokey and devious, driving you insane. Your head tipped back, staring at the ceiling, gasping as Yoongi’s words worked into you.

“You love it, don’t you?” Yoongi drawled. “You love Jungkook using you, fucking you like his own personal gloryhole, hm?”

Oh, fuck.

You whined pathetically, liquid gushing down Jungkook’s cock as you came, core tightening, Jungkook fucking you harder, grunting as he clenched his jaw, feeling you massage his length harshly. Yoongi pinched your nipples, lengthening your orgasm, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses, consuming you, feeling nothing but Jungkook’s cock, Yoongi’s hands, and Yoongi’s words corrupting you.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy letting Jungkook use you like this,” Yoongi growled. “So generous, letting Jungkook fuck your tight little hole with his big cock, hm?” He rolled your nipples in his fingers and rubbed them hard.

“A-ah, Yoongi!”

“No, no,” Yoongi scolded, pinching them firmly and making your squeal. “Tell Jungkook how good he’s doing. Tell him how good he feels inside you, naughty girl.”

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s sweaty face, brows furrowed, jaw tight as he smacked your hips together over and over, veins popping in his neck and forehead. His cock was jerking inside you, close. So close.

“F-fuck, Jungkook,” you gritted out, feeling Yoongi release your nipples and bounce your tits in time with Jungkook’s thrusts. “Fuck, you’ve doing so good, can’t believe this is your first time, you’re so fucking strong and so fucking big, fuck…”

Jungkook’s dark eyes fixated on you, your bouncing tits, your open mouth, your glazed eyes, hips fucking him back as he fucked you.

“It’s because you have the perfect pussy, noona,” he growled, leaning down, pressing you into Yoongi, getting a deeper angle, nearly hitting your cervix. His breath was hot and erotic against your face, eyes flickering up to Yoongi before boring into yours, capturing you, dragging into his pace and his cock slamming into your hips.

“The perfectly tight little gloryhole for me to use.”

You cried out, something inside you snapping, cumming again all over Jungkook’s cock, your juices sliding down your thighs and his thighs, smearing into Yoongi’s jeans, dripping everywhere, so much, oh, God, so fucking intense that your pussy clamped around Jungkook’s cock. He moaned your name right into your face, thrusting one last time, pumping the condom full, stretching it out against your walls, so much you could feel it and his cock throbbing against your walls, trying to get it all out.

Yoongi didn’t even bother to ask. He simply reached down and pushed Jungkook back a little, feeling for the bottom of the condom and pushing him out of you. Jungkook whined, but Yoongi pulled you away from him.

“It’s too much,” Yoongi mumbled. “How long have you been holding out? Fuck…”

He pulled the condom off him and it was still dribbling out. Yoongi grabbed your hand and wrapped it around Jungkook’s cock, holding you in place with his. You were too tired to focus, too exhausted to realize what was going on.

Yoongi began to pump Jungkook with your hand, slowly. He was still so hard, veins imprinting into your palm, cum dripping all over your and Yoongi’s fingers. Jungkook whined, wincing at the sensitivity, but Yoongi was careful, sliding your palm up to the head and squeezing it firmly but not too tightly. Slowly, slowly, bringing Jungkook back down.

“Party’s dying,” Yoongi breathed. “We gotta get out of here.”

You were naked. Jungkook was naked. Your lower back was killing you. Yoongi’s blood alcohol level was far too high to drive even if he sounded sober. You sucked in a breath and shoved your face into the unknown sheets, groaning.

“Give me a minute, fuck.”

Shit, you just wanted to sleep.

-

third act. was it a dream a–dick–ted au

--

masterpost

[netherworldpost]

if you don't mind me asking, what sort of bleach+hair dye do you use? do you get it done at a salon or at home? do you have any tips? your hair looks very very cool!

Okay, so, I love talking about my hair, this is not a problem.

I don't know the bleach brand, the dye is Pulp Riot. My hair priest (otherwise known as hair mechanic, otherwise known as hair genius, otherwise known as whatever rambling words come out) is Hayley Huckaba -- who mixes up the colors and blends and does... magic... things, what with her intense skill and talent and probably literal magic.

I know they use different hues of blue to create depth, which makes sense, in the sense of "I have done paintings and this is how I would handle a 2D space, my head of which is a 3D space."

The biggest tips I can offer is scour the internet for pictures of "I like this, I don't like this, I want something like this. Here is what I can commit to in terms of styling. Here is my budget.

"What is possible? How do I maintain it?"

When I say lots of pictures, I mean lots. Dozens. I came to my first meeting with Hayley with a few dozen photos and we sorted through them all -- "atty, your hair can do THIS, it can't do THAT, we can do OTHER THING if you can commit to PROCESS, okay that one is a wig" -- etc.

External to hair, I have dealt with champaign dreams -vs- soda pop budgets A LOT in my career as a graphic designer illustrator web designer package designer -- you get the picture.

The absolute best results shake out when everyone sits around the table with an upfront, realistic budget and decisions are made.

I'm not talking "break the bank." I'm not suggesting "as much as you can afford." Literally, straight forward, honest to yourself: what are you comfortable spending today + as long as this path is continued?

This initial conversation with your stylist will help shake out what you can do together, what you will need to do yourself, and if you're a good fit.

You're building a team.

You want to look great, your stylist wants you to look great, their time is valuable.

And you want to keep looking great -- I've been going to Hayley since August and have no plans to switch stylists.

You're committing (possibly) to a maintenance program.

I love my hair. It makes me feel great, it brings me incredible joy, it is life-fulfilling in ways I find difficult to express. It's also a bit of a pain in the ass.

I used to have super short hair and would (maybe) throw a bit of gel into it and (maybe) a comb through it and I'm good to go. I'd get it cut seasonally or so. The shampoo I used wasn't quite dish soap but it wasn't high quality.

Now I'm on a 6-8 week maintenance schedule with good shampoo and good conditioner with a bit of dye mixed in to keep my hair vibrant and I brush it at least once a day to keep fluffy and I fluff it up with a diffuser when i want to be fancy -- you get the picture.

Also after I dye it, for the first few showers, I wear a shower cap to ensure dye doesn't get everywhere -- yadda yadda yadda.

Not seismic earthquake life-changes but it was certainly a shift in grooming.

Talk to a hair stylist. Talk to a few of them, review portfolios and ask questions. Show them your inspiration photos, discuss your goals, discuss your budget.

Get comfortable. Look at portfolios (either on their salon website or their social media). "You did this, I love it. I want something like this."

You're building a map.

You are in here at Point A (today). You want to be at Point B (tomorrow with better hair). You're building a map on how to get there.

Do you want this style forever? For a year? For a season? For an event? Until you're sick of it?

It could be a stylist does everything (cut, color, shows you how to style it). It could be your stylist is more of a consultant (they cut your hair and give you tips on how to dye it at home).

By coming to the first meeting / phone call / email (your comfort level and theirs) with perimeters, you'll come up with a plan for today, and a plan for the future.

Factor all of this with your complexion (my skin skews towards red undertones, which is why blue pops but orange would not without makeup) and hair texture (my hair is straight, fine) and various other technical details your stylist will help you hammer out.

I came to Hayley with a pile of photos and "I want blue." Okay great but there are a lot of blues. Part of Hayley's job was to help me sort out which blue I liked and which blue would look good.

Good luck!

Have fun!

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch. 7

Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6

Summary: in which Cassandra gets bullied and other sappy shenanigans

---

"Oh Nicole dear, so happy to see you again!" Duke's voice was cheerful as ever, tone masterfully crafted over years of being a businessman.

Nicole, taking small steps inside the ornate and now full of items room, greeted him with uncharacteristic giddiness.

"Duke! How's business?"

"Same as always, I'll be heading to Beneviento later tonight to deliver some tools for her," he took a long drag of his cigar and, noticing green eyes scanning over multiple items and said, "I also have your order."

With a childish grin on her face, she approached him, hands shuffling inside the small bag attached to her belt that all staff members had. She pulled out the money owed for her package and, in return, the Duke placed a decently sized box in her arms. With an oof she shifted it in a less precarious position, it's heavy contents seeming to plot against her small frame.

"Unfortunately I can't stay, duty calls. But thank you Duke."

"No worries, I do understand that your employers can be quite," he took another drag of his cigar, looking for the right word. "...demanding"

Nicole chuckled. That was one way to put it.

"Well until next time dear. Or if you find yourself in need of something else, I'll be here until six."

---

She was only wearing a long white towel when she heard a knock on the door. Assuming it was another maid, or even Anita inquiring about whether or not she'd be joining the rest of them for dinner, she opened the door just a crack.

It was a surprise to see none other than Cassandra standing there, her elegant frame in odd contrast with the modest corridor. She flung the door open, letting the brunette inside and took a quick glance down the hall, making sure no maid was on the floor after fainting due to fright.

"What are you doing here?"

"Aw, are you not happy to see me?" She was pouting, but her tone was joking.

Nicole rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips betrayed that she was indeed happy to see her. Cassandra only laughed instead, a beautiful melodious laugh, so unlike the dark cackles heard by prisoners down in the dungeons.

"Just sit down, I need to get dressed," Nicole pointed to the bed before moving to the small dresser and pulling out a clean uniform.

Cassandra went to sit on the slightly disheveled bed, eyes following the redhead's form as she let the towel drop to her feet and started to put on the various layers of her uniform. Then golden eyes darted to the box sitting on the bed. The tape sealing it had been cut not long after Nicole brought it back to her room to make sure all its contents made it safely. Not that she didn't trust the Duke, but postal service was postal service.

"What's this?" Cassandra inquired, trying to read the label but having no success as it had been scribbled over with a marker.

Nicole stilled for a moment, hands frozen on her white button up. She cleared her throat and shyly admitted:

"Actually that's for you. Do open it if you want."

Cassandra's eyes widened, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. The gesture had really caught her off guard. She gingerly lifted the lid, inspecting it's contents for a moment and then hummed.

"And here I was thinking you like my hair. With how much you love to pull on it and all that."

Nicole, now fully clothed and sporting a deep blush, marched to her and plucked the two boxes of red hair dye from gloved hands. She placed them on her nightstand and, with her voice just slightly more high pitched, she turned to the brunette.

"Those are mine, I meant the rest of it." And, after a chuckle, "I mean have you seen my roots? They're horrible!"

Cassandra only gave her a deadpan look and, after a long moment, said: "I think your hair is beautiful."

She didn't wait for a reply, not that it would be anything more than a stammered mumble of course. Instead she chuckled and returned her attention to the box. She examined the rest of its contents and then gingerly lifted one of the few tomes inside. The cover was glossy and malleable, it's pages shiny and with a distinct typography smell to it. It was so unlike her other books, it's pristine white state making it feel extremely out of place in the castle. She glanced at Nicole inquisitively.

"I do appreciate the gift, don't misunderstand me, but surely you know there's a small bookshop's worth of medical books in this castle."

"With all due respect, from what I've seen most of them are at least somewhat outdated. Interesting, yes, but I thought you'd like to learn something more...modern." Then she pulled out another book. "This is the same one I used while studying forensic pathology. It would make teaching you some things easier. Uh… assuming you want that."

Nicole averted her gaze, suddenly unsure of the usefulness of her gift. Cassandra however grabbed her chin between two fingers and pulled her gaze back on her. She smiled, finding the shy demeanor beyond endearing.

"I'd love that."

A small smile appeared on thin lips and Nicole leaned in to kiss Cassandra. It was soft and short, but no less intimate than the deep kisses they shared so many times in Cassandra's bed.

They had to go anyway.

---

Let's go to the library, Cassandra said. It'll be empty, she said.

When Cassandra swung open the intricate door, only to find the other two sisters lounging on one of the couches, it's not like they could do a one eighty and leave the room. That would've been both impolite and highly suspicious.

Instead, Cassandra grabbed her arm protectively and led them to the reading spot farthest from the other two. They placed one of the textbooks on the small desk and Cassandra took out a notebook. This would've been a lot more fruitful with an actual body on hand, but there were still a couple days until the human flesh supply had to be replenished and Cassandra was beyond eager to start on some things. So, for now, they had to settle for theory alone.

It took all of five minutes for the other two sisters to make their way to their desk. Daniela had a giddy yet curious expression on her face, while Bela seemed as unreadable as ever, if not for a glint in her eyes that betrayed her interest.

"Whatcha dooooing?" Came Daniela's voice, who cocked her head not unlike a curious puppy would while looking at the book's contents.

"Working," Cassandra replied, a slight growl accompanying her words.

"Could've fooled me," Bela spoke from behind the youngest sister, eyeing the hand protectively placed on Nicole's waist.

Cassandra snapped her eyes at the blonde, looking ready to throw her notebook at her head but Bela ignored her sister's ire and addressed Nicole instead.

"What are you studying?"

"I uh- just some basic anatomy concepts. Thought it would be a good idea to start with the things that the older books in the castle don't cover."

Bela only hummed, grabbed an ornate chair nearby, and plopped herself at the desk, opposite from the pair. Daniela mimicked her sister, but instead chose to sit down right by Nicole on the small couch. It took more willpower than she would admit not to glue herself to Cassandra's side when Daniela's face came uncomfortably close so she could look over the book's diagrams. She stood still as a statue though. After a couple seconds of silence and Nicole trying to figure out what she was supposed to do, Daniela drew her head back, looking at her with what was possibly the most serious expression she had seen on the youngest sister.

"You do realize we're not going to hurt you right? How could we lay a finger on our dear sister's lover hmm?"

Nicole's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't sure if it was due to the word used to describe her or how Daniela apparently knew that she was utterly terrified of her. Cassandra sighed beside her and, seeming to at least partially read Nicole's thoughts, clarified:

"Your heartbeat."

Oh. Yeah. Yeah her heart was beating a million miles an hour. And apparently the other three vampiric occupants of the room were able to hear it loud and clear. It did very little to ease her mind.

"Please do calm down, it feels like someone is having drumming lessons. Bad ones," Bela complained, head resting in one of her hands like she was already bored.

"Then shove a sock in your ears," Cassandra snapped.

Bela simply leaned back in her seat and stretched her arms above her head. "And risk not hearing my beloved sisters sing along to some pop song?"

Cassandra shut her mouth, a blush now slowly spreading across her cheeks while Daniela burst out into laughter. Even Nicole couldn't help betraying the brunette and letting out a giggle.

"I didn't know you could sing."

"I can't."

"Au contraire dear Cassie! Should I remind you of the last time Dragostea din tei came on the radio? The pathos!" Daniela reached over Nicole's lap to lightly shake her sister's knee through her giggles.

Cassandra only let out a long groan, face now hidden in her palms. "I hate you both."

"Mhm, we love you too," came Bela's reply, accompanied by a chuckle.

Nicole couldn't keep a small laugh while she snaked her arm behind the brunette to show some form of support against the merciless assailants. Maybe not a complete betrayal.

The scene really had something deep within her heart aching beautifully. It reminded her of the countless times she and Alex would mercilessly tease each other, but still have each other's backs through thick and thin. And for this familiarity to come from people that any sane person would consider bloodthirsty monsters? Hell, maybe they should start considering her a monster too, for the only word she could use to describe them in that moment was endearing.

"So," Bela lightly clapped her gloved hands. "Now that your pulse isn't giving me a headache anymore, what are we doing?"

She had a confident smirk on her face, but her eyes betrayed curiosity. Same for Daniela and, although mixed with a hint of annoyance, Cassandra. She opened the book in front of her, one of general human anatomy, and decided that the digestive system would be a good enough starting point.

---

Their little impromptu lesson didn't last more than two hours. Two hours that proved to Nicole just how oddly human all three sisters can be. Of course she had gotten familiar with Cassandra, intimately so, but the other two still felt like two looming monsters hiding in the shadows. At least up until now.

Bela seemed oddly intrigued by Nicole's explanation, although unlike Cassandra, she seemed to view it more like a story than anything. Daniela seemed slightly more interested, asking questions here and there and even starting to giggle like a middle schooler when they got to the rectum section. That got an eye roll from the other two. Nicole just laughed, finally understanding Mrs Hawkins, her private biology teacher from before she was allowed to step foot in any public school.

After they were done, Bela simply stood up and bid them good night. Danila instead excitedly proposed the skeletal system for next time and picked up the books she abandoned earlier. Then, with a small tower of tomes she went through a door tucked at the very back of the room. Her study, Cassandra had pointed out as they made their way out of the library.

"I didn't know your sisters were interested in medicine too." Nicole kept her voice low, almost as if talking too loudly would disturb the shadowy hallways.

"More or less. Daniela likes it and has a bit of hands-on practice but she has her nose in romance novels more often than not. Bela finds it interesting but botany is what she really loves. That and classic lit." She added the last part with a grimace and Nicole had to wonder which author had offended her personally.

Before she could continue that train of thought though, her gaze moved to the windows, the cloudless sky beyond thick glass panels full of twinkling stars. Her mind kept going back to a few hours earlier and at what Daniela had said. Lover. Did Cassandra truly see her as one or was the youngest sister just being her over the top self. Did she see Cassandra this way? Nicole had not allowed herself to dwell on that up until now, the idea that the brunette saw her as more than an over glorified lab partner with whom she occasionally scratched an itch seemed almost laughable. But the small gestures of affection shown in ways Cassandra seemed to know best were undeniably there. And the familiar flutter in her chest at each of said gestures was also undeniably there.

"What's wrong?"

Cassandra's voice, accompanied by the slight echo through the empty hallway, snapped Nicole out of her thoughts.

"Oh um- nothing." She sounded as convincing as someone trying to sell you a fork while showing you a spoon.

And Cassandra didn't seem to buy it. She moved in front of the redhead, walking backwards with no concern over possible furniture to collide into along the way.

"You always get this… face when something's bothering you."

"I do not-" the indignation in her tone was weak, little more than an attempt to change the subject.

"Mhmm you do. You normally look focused. Kind of like, if someone tried to scare you by throwing an eyeball at you, you'd laugh." She would. "Now? Now you look like a rabbit that has no time to run and is just laying low hoping whatever's hunting it passes by."

Nicole shut up for a moment, only looking at the brunette in front of her incredulously. Maybe she was far more attentive than she gave her credit for.

"Uh. Just thinking." At a raised dark eyebrow, the no shit went unsaid, so Nicole tried to elaborate. "About earlier. When we were with your sisters and Daniela uh- Daniela called me your lover."

Saying that the words felt awkward on her tongue was close to the year's biggest understatement. It felt like pulling out teeth would be an easier task. Nicole had never been good with her words, having learned since childhood to keep her mouth shut. But the fact that Cassandra seemed to share her struggle brought some semblance of comfort.

"And?" As if they were talking about the weather.

"And… was she right in describing me as such?"

She couldn't help a small gulp when the brunette stopped walking, looking at her with a frown. Any sane person would be at the very least somewhat afraid in this situation. Sanity however was scarce these days as Nicole was afraid, though not of the bodily harm that may come from her inquiry, but rather of Cassandra's answer.

"Nicole, your tongue has been in my mouth." Amongst many other places.

The redhead's cheeks turned a slight shade of crimson and she mumbled for an answer. She wasn't sure how to tell her that sleeping together did not automatically make them lovers. But then again, Cassandra's thoughts remained a mystery more than anything.

Thankfully the brunette took the metaphorical reins of the conversation and stepped forward. She wrapped her hands around Nicole's arms, gentler than one would imagine possible from her, and bent down to whisper no more than an inch away from her ear.

"I'll have you know, I'm not particularly fond of letting anyone I don't deem important touch me. Especially not the way you do."

The words made something flutter in Nicole's chest, an unfamiliar and comforting warmth. Said warmth got chipped away at the slightest bit when Cassandra pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"Should I take it that it's not mutual then?" Cassandra's tone was nonchalant, almost as if she didn't truly care about the answer. She could keep doing whatever she wanted either way, afterall who was going to stop her? But to someone who got familiar with all her small quirks and habits, the waver in her voice was more than clear.

"No." The world slipped from her lips with no hesitation.

No hesitation, because the more she thought about it, and she didn't need to think a lot mind you, the more Nicole realized that she couldn't remember a time when she felt the way she did here. Sure the initial threat of death looming over her head was anything but pleasant, but once that melted into affection and nights spent in Cassandra's arms the thought of leaving didn't as much as graze her mind.

"No, no. It is," she repeated, more certainty making its way into her tone.

At that Cassandra smiled. A small, almost shy one would say if they knew her well enough, smile. Her shoulders seemed to lose some of their tension when she leaned down again, her lips stopping not even an inch away. Nicole wasted no time leaning forward, their mouths meeting in a kiss that mixed softness and need beautifully. Their lips slid against each other until, surprisingly, it was Cassandra to pull back and sigh.

"Come sleep, we have some cutting up to do in the morning."

Nicole frowned. "Tomorrow? Wasn't that supposed to be due in a few days?"

A devilish grin appeared on black lips, fangs shimmering ominously in the low light. "Bela caught a foolish man-thing sneaking around the forest on the castle grounds. She's really excited to turn this one into a nice steak."

The redhead only let out an oh in acknowledgement. Foolish indeed. At least they could finally put into practice a few autopsy tricks Nicole had been itching to show her.

She let herself be guided back to Cassandra's chambers and into her bed, that she had grown intimately familiar with. The last thing she felt before falling asleep was the brunette's cool skin, pressed against her own. A welcomed comfort among the myriad of soft pillows that surrounded them. Nicole wondered briefly if being undead meant it was hard to keep yourself warm, but the thought quickly slipped away as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

[aiiwa]

PRETTY IN PINK — IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

✗ REQUEST: may i request a lil text fic of yn having the most juiciest 🍑 and taking pics in her lingerie to send to her female friends so they can help pic out which one is the prettiest but she accidently sends them to her best friend and crush iwa and how that would go?????

— iwaizumi hajime.

⤷ genre: college au - fluff (?) / crack (?)

⤷ warnings: suggestive / mature themes, cursing, and a photo thirst trap photo (?), also iwa talking about masturbating over your photo

⤷ word count: 2.8k

— a/n: for my big booty anon i would sell my soul for 🍑💖

this is set in the same universe as freshman year, so feel free to give it a read if you’d like!!

life after meeting your boys had changed your daily routine in the best way. not a minute went by that wasn’t filled with the familiar craziness you had grown on.

free time was spent humouring mattsun by shifting the couches in their apartment around and engaging in a wrestling match, originally stemming from a fight the two of you had over the last slice of cake a month ago; the current score was an even tie of 14-14 though you had plans to take the lead. when it came to makki, he was more than happy to indulge on your self-care days; he’d even take part in your skincare routine, let you paint his nails, and liked it when you made smoothies to sip on while the two of you waited for your clay masks to dry. every other week was dedicated to retouching his roots with pink hair dye.

other days, you were set up on your bed; under the soft covers, stash of snacks next to you, while your laptop rested on your lap. and at exactly three a.m. you would receive an incoming call from, oikawa. since it would be three p.m. in argentina, he’d take to sitting out on his balcony, basking in the sun and interrogating you on the relationship, or lack thereof, you had with his dear iwa-chan.

speaking of sweet, gorgeous iwa - in your biased and majorly crushing opinion, hanging out with him was your favourite. though you’d never be heard saying that around anyone. just last week he’d all but solidified your love for him even more, when the two of you were up late, binge watching a new sci-fi show that caught iwa’s attention, and he got up to make you some coffee when you started to feel sleepy.

“here we go, coffee with two sugars for the pretty lady.” the warmth you felt run over your body settled before you grabbed at the steaming cup. taking a sip you realised you’d never told iwa how many sugars you preferred, and after asking him, you watched his faint blush bloom under the harsh light of the t.v. screen. “heh, i don’t know...just noticed it, i guess.”

but as much as you loved the guys, there were just some things you couldn’t do with them. things that required a strictly girls-only day out.

“what do you mean we’re not allowed to come? i wanna go to the mall too!” mattsun whines, tugging at the sleeve of your cropped, button-up sweater, while you were bent over tying your laces.

“it’s a girl’s day out, emphasis on girl.” smacking his hand away, you straighten up; sending him the look your mother gives you when you’re being difficult. “so unless your little pee-pee grew into a powerful vagina, you’ll be staying home.”

“but makki’s practically a girl too!” the couch cushion that flew into his face was true to its aim, the swift whack shutting mattsun up.

“fuck off, little dick.” makki grumbled, lanky figure draped over the couch; sans aforementioned couch cushion that was covering his face before. mattsun tried to throw the pillow back at the pink-haired boy, but it was caught with ease. “we agreed to never bring that up again.”

“yeah well, y/n’s talking about some girl-time shit, like we didn’t take her to a strip club, filled with male strippers.” mattsun sasses back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “like makki didn’t get a lap dance from that guy-”

from the corner of your eye, the bulky figure entering the room catches your attention instantly. you could never get tired of eyeing up the way his shirt stretched around his fit body, how his sleeves cut a bit into his arms and knowing he could rip them up with a flex of his biceps. watching him walk up to you, the tightening of his navy blue gym shorts around his shaped thighs, had you mesmerised; dragging your gaze across the outline of his bulge, you swore it twitched just before he stopped near you.

“ready to go, y/n?” he offered a small smile, twirling his keys around his finger. at the sound of his voice, the other two boys halted their bickering over the strip club incident.

“oi iwa, no fair, are you going with y/n?!” mattsun interrogates, thick brows arched in question.

“i’m dropping her off.”

“oh.” makki chimes in. “out of everyone i thought you would be the one with the most complaints, iwa. just the other day when the two of you were together, i wanted to ask y/n for help with my project but you-”

“yeah, yeah that was the other day.” iwa cuts him off, and you couldn’t help but furrow your brows, wanting to know what makki was going to say. oh well, you’ll just get it out of him after. “c’mon y/n, you’ll be late meeting the girls.”

iwa was on his way to the front door when makki asked you what was so different about this trip to the mall that you didn’t want any of the boys to come along.

“i’m going to buy new lingerie, and i need their opinions.” you shrugged, grabbing your hand bag so you could follow iwa out.

busy with shoving your phone into your purse, and checking you had all of your essentials, you failed to notice the scheming look shared between mattsun and makki. or how iwa stood frozen by the door, hand tightly gripping the handle, until you bumped into his warm back.

“lingerie...hm, i wonder for who?”

at makki’s words you felt heat rise up in your face, as you rubbed at your nose.

“y/n~! you could’ve just asked me to come along! i would love to give my opinion!”

you’d never seen keys flying so fast through the air, finding their mark on mattsun’s forehead.

after spending twenty minutes pressing an ice pack to the growing bump on mattsun’s forehead, and listening to him trying to explain to an irritated iwa that he was just playing around; you’d finally left the apartment, and was nearing the bustling shopping district. iwa had been quiet, though not awkward, with only the mellow songs of his playlist, named after you, playing during the short drive. he flicked his indicator on, spotting the two girls waving at you from the sidewalk, and pulled over to the side.

“thanks for the ride, iwa.” you mumbled distractedly, admiring the veins in his tanned arm as he shifted the gear into park.

“anything for my pretty lady.” iwa lifts the corner of his mouth up into a sweet grin, olive green eyes flitting over you next to him. he doesn’t even realise he’d called you his pretty lady, and you press a hand to your heated cheek; ignoring your friends cooing and pointing at the two of you. “do you need some money? are you gonna be warm?” he leans closer to you, putting his arm behind your seat as he searches through his gym back in the back. the intoxicating smell of his cinnamon cologne invades your senses. “i’ll give you my jacket, just let me find it.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, grabbing his bicep to stop him, giving it a firm, very self-indulgent squeeze. “iwa.” you called out to him. he turned to look at you, wide eyed and so fucking adorable. “you’re acting like my mom.” 

his handsome features relaxed as he released an airy laugh. “well i love your mom, so i’m fine with that.” he pulled his arm from behind you, jacket in his grip, though not in a way to make you let go of his arm.

“i still can’t believe she messages you to make sure i’m eating right.” you groaned, still squeezing his arm playfully. “and stop trying to give me money, it’s like you want to be my sugar daddy or something.”

iwa’s arm tenses under your touch as he processes your words. “alright, time for you to go.” you manage to catch the bright blush dusting his cheeks; your hand reaching out to pinch them yet all you feel is the material of his jacket as he shoves it into your arms. “get out, your friends are waiting for you.”

you pout at his dismissal; but with the way he was so flustered, scratching the back of his neck and hiding his pretty eyes, you decide to let him off easy 

“‘kay, fine~” you drawled in a sing-song voice.

making a show of collecting your things together, you dramatically tugged your seat belt loose; reaching for the door but halting in your actions when the weight of his large hand, dropped on top of your head. allowing him to angle your head to face him, he gifted you with a soft smile that had you ready to melt into the passenger seat. 

“be safe, alright?” your eyes blinked with each gentle pat on your head - once, twice, thrice - most likely ruffling your hair you’d spent a good amount of time on. “now go, text me and i’ll pick you up later.”

puffing your cheeks, you nodded as he squeezed your scalp affectionately. unlocking the door, you stepped outside into the cool air, wrapping iwa’s big jacket over your shoulders as goosebumps rose underneath the thin material of your sweater. bumping the door closed with your hip, you bent at the waist and stuck your head through the open window 

“bye, iwa.” your lips pressed together in a shy smile.

he mirrored your smile. “see you later, pretty lady.”

walking away, tugging the collar of his jacket closer, you could feel his eyes following after you. only half-listening as the girls teased you, hooking their arms through yours to walk through the entrance of the mall; you glanced back once more to see iwa stick a hand out and wave, before driving off once you disappeared from his view.

steam whirled up and around iwa, as a contented sigh escaped his parted lips. stood underneath the spray of warm water, he felt the tension begin to evaporate from his taut muscles 

iwa’s gym sessions, as of late, had been rather extreme. well, it had been this way for a couple of months now, ever since he had met you. he had to overwork his body, send it into overdrive and power through the fatigue - it was the only way to release some of his pent up frustration. the frustration that came with crushing on you, and not acting on it.

you were so fucking gorgeous to him, and you were so damn sweet. every part of his being was steadily entangling itself around your presence, and he had no idea how to stop it. not that he would even want to try. when you were nearby, his ears would begin to twitch at the sound of your voice, searching for you; and when you touched him, wrapping your delicate fingers around his arm to steady yourself, or poking your fingers at his back absentmindedly while teasing his roommates, he could feel his skin tingle all over. but it was when you would look up at him, sparkles in your beautiful eyes, that iwa knew he was a goner.

you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger, and he just wanted to make you his. have you in his arms…and bury himself so deep inside you-

“fuck.”

he shut off the shower with a bit more force than necessary. this was exactly the reason why he’d been visiting the gym more, working out for longer, because his mind was plagued with thoughts of you under him.

especially after seeing you in your cute outfit today. he feared that you’d catch his eyes lingering too long on the exposed skin of your tummy, or trying to memorise the curve of your lush thighs in those jeans. hell, he could barely say anything to you on the drive to the mall, tongue running dry with you so close to him.

with a huff, he carefully stepped out of the shower; wrapping his fully white towel around his hips, and moving into his room. kicking the door closed behind him, he made his way towards his side table just in time for his phone to go off.

grabbing the device and waiting a second for the facial recognition to process; he was surprised to see it was an instagram notification from you. expecting another food porn post, he was dead wrong; with absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for what greeted his eyes.

“holy,” he collapsed onto his bed, holding his phone to his face. “fuck.”

you...you-

“fuck!” he growled out.

you’d sent him a photo in your new lingerie, albeit it was most likely by accident, but there you were modelling your new all-pink set. the one he had 'chosen’.

with your arms raised above your head, brushing your hair over your shoulders, the stretched out pose accentuated the curve of your breasts, almost spilling out from the strapped confines of your bra. could he even call it that? it was all studded belt straps and buckles, that matched the thick choker-collar around your lithe neck, and it was not helping his current situation. grazing his eyes lower, a thin belt was clipped around your waist, before a sliver of skin lead downwards to the skinny, almost sheer, material of your panties. it was high waisted, dipping behind your wide hips and the teasing curve of your ass. and then your thighs, fuck how he wanted his face to be squeezed between them. thigh-high stockings dug into your plush thighs, squished out from the way you were sitting on your rug.

leaning back onto his bed, iwa was tempted to check if his heart was still beating, if he was even breathing at this point. but he did check, and he was alive; and the blood circulating his body was currently flowing straight to his groin.

the sight of you, so fucking pretty in pink, was burned into his mind forever.

under his palms the prickling sensation spread across his fingers, itching to relieve himself. one hand trailed across the panes of his abdomen, while the other grabbed at his phone; though it almost went flying out of his hand when it started vibrating and your contact photo flashed on his screen.

“shit.” he cursed, clearing his throat and trying to even out his breathing. he accepted the call after a moment. “hello?”

“iwa?!” at the sound of your voice he could feel his dick twitch, and he clenched his teeth together; annoyed at himself. he needed to get a grip. “oh my god, iwa, i am so sorry!”

‘no, i’m sorry that i want to fuck you so bad right now.’ is what he wants to say. “it’s...fine, y/n.” is what he manages to get out.

he hears you chuckle a bit awkwardly on the other end of the line. “shit, i’m so embarrassed right now.” you confess. “i meant to send that to the girls…”

“you don’t have to be embarrassed.” if anyone was to embarrassed it was him. he’d spent months pining after you, and now here he was lying on his bed aching to touch himself to you, towel fisted in his free hand. “you’re beautiful, y/n.” at least that managed to come out right.

“thank you, iwa...i only realised what happened when i was about to send another showing the back!” you laughing at your antics fell deaf on his ears, when the thought of your ass seized control of his mind.

how often had he admired the shape of you the past few months. daydreaming of the way you’d feel in his big hands, silky skin dug into by his long fingers, cheeks jutting out between them. he wanted to hold your ass in the palms of his hands, squeeze and tease you...his hips buck up, grinding against the cotton of the towel and a loud groan escapes his mouth.

“oh- iwa? are you okay?” you asked him, so innocently. he couldn’t take it anymore.

“i’m good...i just- something’s come up,” he hissed out, glancing down at the red tip of his cock peeping up at him. “i’ll call you later.”

“oh, of course! sorry again iwa, hehe, i’ll delete the photo. talk soon!”

his eyes shut at the sound of your giggle, free hand already rubbing himself. “bye.”

ending the call and moving the phone away from his face, he stared at the photo again, thumb hovering over the ‘save’ option, before pressing yes. he’d keep it locked away just for him, a treasured piece of you in his gallery. starting to stroke himself to your perfect body, he waited for the notification that you had deleted the photo from the conversation.

but it never came, though he did, and the photo remained buried under new food posts sent from you.

yet it wasn’t til a few weeks after that iwa began to think that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as much of an accident as you made it out to be.

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.