#I may answer a few threads before bed idk

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can I please request a Jeremiah x reader smut where it’s both of their first times! Smut but also cute and fluffy! Thank you ♥️

This is my first time writing for Jeremiah, please be nice. While I like him in the show - I am not team Jeremiah though -, I find him difficult to write about, so idk if I'll keep him on my list...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When it comes to losing your virginity, you've always wanted to wait for the right moment to do it. Maybe it was watching rom-coms and reading hundreds of romances that implanted this vision in your mind, or maybe it was just you wanting to make that big moment perfect, knowing you could never re-do it if you jinxed it…or worse, regret it.

‘’I have not,’’ Belly confessed quietly, shaking her head. ‘’Cam and I went on our third date. It’s way too early.’’ She picked at a loose thread on her shorts, not exactly comfortable talking about sex but feeling comfortable enough to talk about it with you. ‘’Have you and Jere..?’’

‘’No,’’ you said, excluding the other things you and Jeremiah had done that weren’t full-on penetrative sex. ‘’But we are thinking about it.’’

Belly’s attention snapped up. ‘’Oh?’’

You nodded, a light flush tinted your cheeks.

‘’Are you nervous?’’

You nodded again.

So many things could go wrong even if you make sure everything is perfect. You also heard some girls say it hurt the first time and that they bled, which scared you a little.

Belly grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘’I may not know anything about sex, but what I know is that it’s Jeremiah. He loves you. There’s nothing to be nervous about,’’ she assured you.

A few weeks later, the day finally came.

Your mom was out at her book club meeting and your dad was at the country club, leaving the house to yourself for a few hours. Taking advantage of their absence, you texted Jeremiah to come over…and to bring the condoms.

It was bold and definitely had him grinning on his couch at home before making up an excuse to ditch Steven at video games and shower and get ready for the big event.

While Jeremiah was getting ready, you did the same. You put on matching bra and underwear, gave your hair an extra brush and spritzed yourself with Jeremiah’s favorite perfume of yours, lit some candles for ambiance although it was burning hot outside. You made sure everything was perfect.

Except it wasn’t perfect. 

Right when Jeremiah unhooked your bra, his phone started blaring loudly and wouldn't stop. After the fifth ring, Jeremiah answered and left, needing to pick up his mother at the country club. He said he could come back after, but the moment was already ruined.

By some miracle, you were presented another perfect opportunity a few days later.

Susannah was out with Belly and Laurel for a debutante dress fitting, Conrad was at the beach surfing, and Steven was with Shayla.

You and Jeremiah were having a swim in his pool to cool down from the sun. Summer was beautiful, but the heat was too much sometimes. Thankfully, Jeremiah had a nice pool, which you loved to take advantage of. As always, playful splashing turned into kissing and soon enough, you were making out.

You moved things upstairs to Jeremiah’s room for more privacy, and also because didn’t want your first time to be in a pool or on the Fisher’ back porch. 

‘’Careful!’’ Jeremiah reminded as the two of you hurried upstairs, leaving water all over the floors despite being wrapped in a towel. ‘’The floors are slippery when we—’’ 

You caught his arm in time before he could slip and fall, sending the two of you in a fit of laughter. The fun was interrupted when he backed you against the wall and kissed you in the hallway. You melted against him and let your towel drop. 

Jeremiah brought you to his bed, not caring about the wet patched your wet baiting suits would leave behind. It's not like you were going to keep them on for very long. 

Hands were all over each other's body, exploring and grabbing while you were kissing with desire. You undid the ties of your bikini, chucking it on the floor, then moved to your bottoms. Your whole body was on fire under Jeremiah's touch — you needed it all off. 

You reached for Jeremiah's shorts, helping him out because it was harder to take off when wet...and horny, but that's when Steven decided to walk in like he owned the place, catching sight of Jeremiah's bare ass. 

For the rest of the summer, you weren't able to find a good moment. Jeremiah was either working at the country club's pool, or someone was home. You could have snuck to an empty bedroom at a party, but a stranger's bedroom was nothing romantic for a first time. 

You were starting to get impatient so, one night he was supposed to drive you home, you made him pull over and stop the car. It was dumb and had high risks of getting caught, but you didn't care. 

‘’Are you sure?'' Jeremiah asked, seeing you pull your dress over your head. ''We don’t have to if you don’t.’’

You shook your head, looking right into his beautiful blue eyes. ‘’You’re my best friend, Jere. I want it to be you. I want it to be now.’’ 

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777

[spadcs]

.

[ptergwen]

omg what about a peter blurb where the reader turns their phone off to study or sleep or finish work to meet a deadline or something and they haven’t talked to peter al day bc of that and he freaks out imagining the worst (bc he’s seen the worst poor boy) and comes over to the reader’s apartment and they’re so confused and like make fun of him for being so worried 🥺 idk i just think it’d be cute

oh wow this one really got me :,)

peter 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

hey babe, hope you had a good sleep ♥️ wanna go for breakfast?

peter 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

i’ll take you to that place with the smiley faces in their pancakes :) the ones made of fruit

peter 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

it’s getting kinda late y/n... where are u?

Five missed calls from peter 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

too many thoughts are running through peter’s head as he jumps into his form fitting suit. his alter ego usually takes sunday’s off, but he’s making an exception for you. he’s insanely worried about you and why you haven’t returned any of his texts or calls. it’s well past noon already. you’re usually up by now, and you’re never not on your phone. something just seems off.

peter quickly swings through the neighborhood until he gets to your apartment building. he moves so fast that it’s reckless, banging into poles hard enough to leave bruises. that doesn’t matter to him, though. all he wants is for you to be okay. he wants to see you and know that everything is fine. you two haven’t hung out this weekend, so it’s been a couple days since he’s properly checked in with you. anything could happen in that timeframe.

you could’ve gotten hurt, or been taken, or much worse. peter isn’t even willing to let himself think what worse entails. he’d like to be logical and assume you slept in. maybe, his texts simply didn’t send. may has been meaning to make a complaint about their building’s spotty wifi.

in peter’s world, everything is unfortunately beyond logic. he’s freaking spider-man, which means people are out to get him. they’re out to get you. he has no clue what he’d do if they succeeded.

you spin around in your desk chair, earbuds playing music loudly while you read over your notes. final exams are coming soon. you’re using every free second you have from this point on to study for them. sighing, you star a definition you’ve been struggling with. your music drowns out the sound of peter frantically knocking at your window.

he can’t see you from where you’re sitting, so he isn’t sure if you’re there or not. it’s when you finally look up that you notice the red and black clad figure peering in. you gasp, startled at his sudden appearance. you pull out your earbuds and make your way to the window. peter lets out the biggest breath of relief when he sees you approaching.

“sorry, i was-“ your explanation is cut off by peter’s rambling. “are you okay? where have you been? i was... i was so scared something happened to you, y/n,” he admits in a high pitched voice, you only stepping back so he can come inside. continuing, he pulls off his mask. “did you not get my texts? or calls? i was trying to call you all morning. please don’t forget to answer me, y/n/n. you know how i get when-“

“i’m fine, peter!” you reassure him with a giggle. he’s out of breath from talking so much and rushing to you. “i’m right here. i’ve been here all day.” you grab his broad shoulders, which relax under your touch. “well... why didn’t you reply?” peter wonders, frowning as his arms come to hug your waist. “did you not wanna go out with me?“ confused, you tilt your head to the side. “i haven’t checked my phone in hours. i was studying. wait, you wanted to take me out?”

peter can calm down at last. you’re not in danger, you weren’t ignoring him. you were simply busy doing schoolwork. that, he actually applauds you for.

“for breakfast, yeah.” he manages a shy grin as he coaxes your body closer to his. “i’d ask if you’re still interested, but it’s a little too late now.” you raise a challenging eyebrow. “i love brunch.” “i love you,” peter deadpans and pecks your lips sweetly. humming, you bring a hand up to the back of his head while your lips press to his once again. his messed up curls brush your face as he leans in and kisses back.

“i love you, too,” you mumble against his lips, earning a real smile from peter. he’s still smiling when he breaks the kiss. he gives you a final one on your forehead, arms never leaving you. “how about you get dressed so we can bounce?” “will you swing me there? you came prepared,” you tease, heading over to your dresser. his face starts to heat up. “i thought you might’ve been in trouble.”

“in trouble of failing a test, not being sacrificed by a supervillain.” you’re laughing to yourself while you get your clothes together. fully blushing, peter takes a seat on your bed. “you never know.” he toys with his gloved fingers. “just wanted to make sure i could protect you, if you needed me.” “peter... baby,” you coo, walking back over to him with your outfit tucked under your arm.

“i appreciate you dropping everything and coming here, i really do. shows me how much you care.” you cup one of his pink cheeks in your hand, willing peter to look at you. he does, threading his fingers through yours. “i care a lot.” “so much that you drive yourself insane,” you agree. his lips stretch into a small smile. “trust me, you’re the first person i’m calling when bad guys try to capture me.” your thumb brushes over his skin, eyes softening.

“that makes me feel strangely better. i’ll think before i overreact next time,” peter decides and kisses your palm a few times. “you didn’t overreact. you’ve been through some shit, pete.” you nod to stress your point. “it’s a normal response, okay?” “thank you, baby. for... i don’t know, existing,” he chuckles softly. you ruffle his curls with a goofy grin.

“let’s go get some smiley face pancakes.”

[bakugoukatsukiswife]

Buy Your Love

A/N: So this is me ATTEMPTING to write about having sex with Hawks on a fancy ass yacht.. like everyone is thirsting over right now because of that move ‘365 Days’. Personally, I didn’t like the movie at all but the boat scene had me feeling some way cause I was picturing Hawks the whole time. I really wanted to some good smut with Hawks on a boat and HOPEFULLY I did it justice. Idk I kind of feel like I need a cold shower after this so maybe I did good? ALSO I dropped in some Yagami Yato nicknames she does with Hawks, I couldn’t resist. Anyways, enjoy babes!!

Warnings: Hair pulling, spanking, spitting, name calling, dirty talk. Pure smut. 18+. 

Words: 2K

To say that you were dating the number two hero Keigo Tamaki, otherwise known as Hawks, was complicated to determine. He would wine and dine you, take you out for scenic flights at night in Japan, make you feel as if you were the only girl in the world. He was smooth with his words, they flowed off his tongue like honey, sweet and enticing to you while his looks were an added bonus. He knew that he was a charmer, he tried his hardest to make you fall for him in the few months you had known him; but you knew you were nothing special to him, you were just another prize to be won in his eyes. 

Of course you were, or else you wouldn’t have been given a magazine article by a concerned coworker talking about Hawks and his new ‘girlfriend’ who had gone on a getaway trip recently. It shouldn’t matter, right? You and Hawks weren’t a thing, it’s not like anything would ever happen between you two anyway. 

Work had tired you out, you had just gotten out of the shower and you were about to head to bed when you heard a tapping on your balcony window. You sighed as you opened the curtain, meeting eyes with Hawks as he waved at you before you opened the sliding door, allowing him to step in. 

“Hey there, baby bird. How was your day?” Hawks asked as he came toward you, mouth twitching downward slightly when you stepped away a bit. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your other lady friend?” You questioned him, daring to look up at his face despite the loud pounding of your heart flooding your ears. Hawks quirked a brow at you, his head tilting slightly as he caught sight of the magazine on your dresser before he let out a slight chuckle. 

“You’re really going to believe those trashy articles? The hero agency tasked me with keeping an eye on her cause she was a witness in an important case. That’s all that was,” Hawks said, rubbing at his face and you felt guilt encase your heart since you could tell he was being honest. Your heart started to pick up the pace when Hawks’ wings brushed against your back and you realized just how close Hawks really was when he leaned down, his golden-brown eyes serious. 

“Besides, there’s no one else I want. You should know this by now, songbird.” Hawks said, the nickname he gave you sending shivers through you. He gently ran his knuckles across your cheek, chuckling. “It’s cute when you’re jealous though,” Hawks said and you bristled at his accusation. 

“I’m not jealous! Why would I be jealous?” You asked, crossing your arms as you looked away from Keigo. All he responded with was a chuckle before pulling you closer to him with his wings, making color rise to your face. 

“Want to come with me somewhere fun?” Hawks asked, a playful tone to his voice and you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Where?” You asked and Hawks tsked. 

“Yes or no?” He asked, his eyes hopeful and you sighed. 

“Yes,” You answered, and Hawks pulled you close to him before taking off into the night. You clutched tightly to him as he headed towards the ocean and you could see a very big, luxurious yacht on the water. You looked up to look at Hawks and noticed that he had a smirk on his face but before you could say anything to him, he landed perfectly on the deck of the boat. 

“Keigo… what is this? This isn’t your yacht is it?” You asked Hawks as he set you down and he feigned a look of hurt as he touched his chest. 

“Hey I know I joke, but I make bank too, you know. I am the number two hero.” Hawks said as he watched you walk around the deck, taking in the massive boat. You turned to look back at him and he smiled. “Look, I know you’ve been stressed with work and stuff lately so I thought we could have a small vacation getaway on the ocean. I bought you some clothes and swimsuits so you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing,” Hawks admitted as a blush rose to his cheeks at the way you looked at him with the biggest smile on your face. 

“Oh? So this is the fun you were talking about?” You questioned as you came closer to him, eyebrow raised in question. 

“Of course, I wanted you to have a stress free week.” Hawks answered simply and you let out an exhale of breath. 

“Alright, give me the grand tour then.” You said, and Hawks happily accepted. He showed you the massive den, that had fully leather sofas and chairs with a flat screen TV, the jacuzzi on the front deck as well the bar that occupied the deck too. There were too many rooms to count by the end of it, and Hawks led you to the master bedroom that was fit for a king. Which you guess in Hawks’ case, he kind of was one. 

“So this is where you’ll be sleeping,” Hawks said, and you felt your heart clench at the notice he gave you of you both not sleeping in the same room. Yes, you and Hawks had a complex relationship, but you hadn’t slept with him or anything like that yet. It’s not like you were inexperienced or anything, you just didn’t understand why he wanted you of all people. What was so special about you? You felt your legs hit the bed and you fell back, snapping out of your gaze when you realized that Keigo was now hovering above you, his hands on either side of your head as he looked down at you with a small smirk. 

“Now, now baby bird… I thought this was supposed to be a stress free week, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Hawks asked and you felt your breath catch at how close he was, his breath hitting your face, his fingers threading through your hair that was on the bed. “Do you want to sleep with me that bad?” 

“N-no. It’s nothing,” you managed to stutter out and Hawks rolled his eyes slightly. Being in this position with Hawks was starting to become too much for you, you were excited to be here, to be with him. To forget about everything for a while, to just soak in his presence that made you feel like you were the only person in the world, that you were actually important to him. But were you? Was he just trying to buy you, buy your feelings? The longer you thought about it, you started to feel anger course through your veins and Hawks noticed that you had a different look in your eyes. 

“Keigo…” You started and he stopped his teasing, knowing that you were serious whenever you said his actual name. “Are you… are you trying to buy me? My feelings, I mean.” You managed to say and Hawks leaned back to fully look at you. 

“(Y/N)... of course I’m not.” Hawks said and your heart fluttered at the way your name left his lips. That was the first time he had called you by your name, he normally always called you ‘baby bird’, ‘songbird’, or ‘baby girl’. “You make me the happiest I’ve been in a very long time. I… like you a lot, and when I like something, I can go a little overboard with my affections. Being a pro hero has its perks, and I just like to spoil you. You’re the only one I’ve ever cared for this much, so it’s pretty new to me. I-.” Hawks was cut off when your lips met his, his hand automatically tangling in your hair. Your tongue came out to brush against his bottom lip and you heard him moan, his hand tightening in your hair while his other hand gripped at the sheets before he found the willpower to pull away. 

“Wait, (Y/N). Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked sincerely and your heart warmed at the way he looked down at you, his golden eyes dark with lust but you could tell he was holding back, for your sake. 

“Of course, Keigo,” you said and he smiled before leaning back in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. 

“Buckle up, baby bird. I’m going to have so much fun with you,” Hawks mumbled against your lips and you felt a shiver run through you at his words. Hawks hooked his fingers in your jeans before shimming them down, placing you further on the bed before removing your underwear as well and you watched as his eyes lit up at the sight before him. “You look good enough to eat. In fact, I may just take a bite,” Hawks said before diving straight into your cunt, his tongue licking a stripe up to your clit before he nibbled at it with his teeth. A moan escaped your mouth as your hands found his hair, your legs going to rest on his shoulders as Hawks sucked at your essence. 

“God, you taste so fucking good,” Hawks groaned, golden eyes looking up at you as your back arched at his tongue develing deep into your folds. He chuckled slightly, the vibrations sending chills through you as Hawks pulled you closer to him, his hands gripping at your thighs. You felt him pause and you looked down to see that he was making sure you were watching him before he pursed his lips, his saliva dripping down onto your clit as he inserted a finger inside you, causing you to tug at his hair as a whine left your lips. You moved your hips slightly, hearing Hawks let out a chuckle as you continued to try and fuck yourself on his finger. 

“You want my cock that badly, baby girl? You want me to fuck you with my cock, make you scream my fucking name as you cum for me?” He teased and you could only nod, too embarrassed to say it outloud, but Hawks tsked. 

“Yes or no?” 

“Yes! Please Keigo! I want you to fuck me, I need you to fuck me so badly. I need your cock inside me,” you begged and you felt as Hawks removed his finger, hearing as his belt unbuckled before the soft thud of his jeans hit the floor. Hawks gave himself a few pumps as he licked your juices off his other hand before he slowly inserted himself into you, a slow string of curses leaving his mouth as he let you adjust to his length. Let’s just say that Hawks had big dick energy, and rightly so. 

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. So fucking tight for me,” Hawks said, his voice low as he started to move, his cock brushing against your walls perfectly as you let out a moan. 

“Keigo…” you moan out, pleasure coursing through your veins at the way that Hawks was grunting in your ear, his hand tangled in your hair as his thrusts picked up the pace. 

“Yeah, say my name (Y/N). I love the way you say my name, shit.” Hawks said, his teeth biting at the supple skin of your neck. His tongue came out to soothe the red marks now on you as he continued to thrust into you, heavy breathing filling the room as Hawks’ thumb ran across your bottom lip, his golden eyes staring down at you. “Open your mouth,” he commanded and you did so without hesitation. He pursed his lips again like earlier and spit into your mouth, his thrusts never slowing down as he took hold of your jaw with his thumb, index and pointer finger. 

“You like that? Dirty girl,” Hawks said and you felt heat rush through you at his words, his dirty talking and the way that he was hitting against your g-spot causing you to come dangerously close to releasing. “Are you about to cum? Cum for me, cum all over this cock.” 

Like he willed it, you came all over him with a loud moan, your pussy fluttering against his cock and you could hear Hawk grit his teeth as his hips stuttered against yours. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming.” Hawks said before his seed filled you up, dripping a bit onto the sheets. He slowly settled down on top of you, still inside of you as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Keigo?” You started, hearing as he let out a ‘hmmm?’. You slowly flipped over until you were on top of him, taking in the way that his chest moved up and down as he regained his breath, the way that his skin was glistening from the sweat he had worked up, taking in his body that seemed to have been molded by the gods themselves. You took in the way that his golden eyes drank you in, his hands on your hips as he licked at his lips. You leaned in close to him, inhaling sharply when his hips moved upwards slightly. 

“I didn’t want us to be done,” you admitted against his lips before moving your hips against his, his moans sounding like music to your ears. You moved your hips faster, relishing in the way that Hawks slapped your ass as he brought your lips to his. You moaned at the way that he bit down at your lip, sucking at it slightly as he brought another slap to your ass. 

“You look great riding my cock. This may be my new favorite position, kid.” Hawks said teasingly and you felt another shudder run through you at the way his voice dropped as his eyes took you in. His hands gripped at your hips, fingers digging into the skin as you rocked back and forth as a moan left your mouth at the way that his cock dragged against your walls deliciously. You felt as he moved his hips against yours, his pubic bone giving you friction against your clit. The equal friction caused your head to fall to the side as your tongue lolled out, the pleasure overwhelming you as you came for a second time, crying out Hawks’ name as he held you steady while you rode out your orgasm. Hawks thrust into you with a growl, spilling his seed into you for a second time before you laid down on him, head against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. 

“Get some sleep, baby bird. We have plenty of time on this boat,” Hawks said as he placed a kiss on your temple as his hands ran through your hair. 

Needless to say, you guys broke in the jacuzzi and made sure to ‘sunbathe’ on the deck the next day.

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 13)

Chapter 13

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,206

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

(Okay, this woman is way too glamorous, but it was the closest I could find to the dress and general physical appearance)

              As Christmas grew closer, Catalina wondered if she should visit her mother more and more. This was the first time being away from her so long, but her mother never said anything about buying her a plane ticket, and Catalina most certainly couldn’t afford one. She was also nervous about travelling alone, now that two more people had gone missing.

               But before she had to worry about Christmas, she had her first official date with Jungkook to worry about. They were both broke and extremely busy with final exams and work. But as soon as Christmas break began, both of their schedules opened up. Catalina wanted to be the one to ask him out first, so she invited him over for a movie night one night, getting ahold of a nice bottle of wine ahead of time. The movie she chose was C.H.U.D., a perfectly mediocre film that wouldn’t distract them from each other. Once the movie was set up, all Catalina had to do was wait.

               She made herself comfortable on her bed, still just a mattress on the ground, and pulled out her phone. She ended up just swiping back and forth on her home screen, glancing at the front door constantly. Jungkook had her only spare key, so he should be walking in any moment. She opened Twitter, scrolled down her feed without reading anything, then glanced at the door again. She opened her messages and read a text from her mom. Something about keeping pepper spray on her and being careful walking alone. Another glance at the door.

               She closed all her apps and set her phone down with a deep sigh. She needed to get a handle on herself.

               The sound of a key rattling and the front door opening made Catalina leap from her bed. Jungkook stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him. Snow was dusted in his hair and on his shoulders, which melted as he toed off his boots and took his coat off.

               “Hey,” Catalina greeted him as she approached. “How are the roads?”

               She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight before he could answer.

               “They weren’t bad, but I walked here,” he said, pulling her close with his arms around her waist. Catalina leaned back and kissed him, threading her fingers into his hair. She froze.

               “What…” she mumbled against his lips, combing through his hair and feeling the freshly shaved sides underneath. She felt him smile.

               “Do you like it?” he asked. Catalina pulled away further and pushed his long hair away from his face, eyeing the undercut that definitely wasn’t there the last time she saw him.

               “H- you…” Catalina let out a strangled sound before clearing her throat. Then she whispered, “It’s fucking sexy.”

               He laughed and kissed her hard, her hands back in his hair, and one of his hands finding its way up her back under her shirt.

               Catalina groaned and said, “We need to stop before I ruin my plans for tonight.”

               “Oh?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

               “Yes. We have a movie to watch,” she said, pulling him over to her mattress, where her laptop was set up with the movie ready to play. They got settled and she pressed play on the movie, pouring two glasses of wine. A few minutes into the movie, Jungkook turned to Catalina and said, “Was your plan really to just watch this movie? Because it kind of sucks.”

               “No,” said Catalina. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out to dinner with me this week sometime. I was thinking De Luca’s.”

               “You’re gonna wine and dine me?” he asked, his big eyes softening. Catalina nodded. “Of course! I’ve never been to that place before, but I hear it’s amazing. I’d love to go with you.”

               Catalina couldn’t contain the smile that took over her face.

               “And then after dinner,” Catalina continued. “You’ll drive me home since I don’t have a car-“

               Jungkook laughed.

               “And I’ll kiss you goodnight before you leave,” she finished.

               “All proper,” he said. Catalina nodded. “And then on our second date, when I wine and dine you, I’ll drive you home, because I have a car and you don’t, and I’ll kiss you goodnight-“

               “And then you’ll come inside with me and I’ll sit right here, just like this,” Catalina interrupted, getting up to straddle his thighs. “And then I’ll tug on your hair like this…”        

               She gripped his hair tight and gave it a good tug, pulling his head to the side. He let out a moan before clamping his mouth shut, his breathing getting quicker. Catalina leaned down so that her lips were just barely touching his neck.

               “Because you make pretty sounds when I pull your hair,” Catalina continued. “And then…who knows what will happen?”

               She got off his lap and returned to her spot cuddled up to his side.

               “But I’ll do all that stuff after our second date,” she said. “Because I know we’re both not into casual sex, and fucking after the first date is tacky.”

               “You’re evil,” he said, his voice breathy but a smile on his face. Catalina giggled and cuddled closer.

               “You love it,” she said. “I mean, in the meantime, we can just make out. Because this movie does kind of suck.”

               “Is that why you chose it?” Jungkook asked, raising an eyebrow. Catalina couldn’t get enough of him doing that, it was so sexy.

               “Maybe,” she said, pulling him down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               Catalina was being chased again. She was too slow, her feel dragging and her body not responding to her commands. Namjoon was above ground, if she could get to him, he’d protect her. She made it to the tunnel and the metal ground clanged under her feet. Too loud, too loud! But she couldn’t slow down or else they’d catch her. She looked behind her. Jungkook was supposed to be following her, but he wasn’t there.

“Don’t stop now, kitty,” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the tunnel. “They’re going to eat you if you stop moving.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

              She rarely got mail, unless it was bills or brochures from the college, so when Catalina saw an envelope sealed with a wax seal in her mailbox, she ran as fast as she could up to her apartment to read it.

               She dumped the rest of her mail on the kitchen counter and tore the letter open. The paper inside was yellowed with age, but heavy and high quality. It was an invitation, from Taehyung, to a Christmas party at the mansion. The party was a week before Christmas, so Catalina still had some time to figure out what she was going to wear. She didn’t bring anything fancy with her when she moved, so she would need buy something.

               Before the party, she went shopping with Jimin and Hoseok, both of whom also needed outfits. Catalina ended up buying a long, red dress. It was backless with long sleeves, tight fitting to her figure with a wide collar that left room for a necklace. A long slit in the skirt up the back almost reached the dip in the back. When she tried it on at the mall, the boys said that “it was sexy and Jungkook has a thing for red.” Hoseok told her not to buy a necklace because he had something for her to wear.

               Anyway, she was excited to show it off. The party was going to start at eight in the evening, but Jungkook drove Catalina and Jimin to the mansion around noon. They hung out, helped decorate the house, and then a few hours before the party was to start, they all went to separate rooms to get themselves ready.

               Catalina was just finishing up her makeup in one of the guest rooms and getting ready to put her dress on when a knock came at the door. She opened it to find Hoseok standing outside.

               “May I come in?” he asked.

               “Sure,” said Catalina, stepping aside for him. He walked in and handed her a velvet rectangular box. “Is this it?”

               He nodded.

               “It’s from my mom,” said Hoseok. “I saw her a few days ago and told her about you and Jimin and Jungkook. She said you could borrow this for the party.”

               “Your mom lives around here?” Catalina asked. She never thought about Hoseok’s family. She supposed she should have assumed some of his relatives were still alive, since he wasn’t actually that old. She wondered if his mother knew he was a vampire, but she figured his mother would have to. Hoseok wouldn’t have aged in many years.

               “Yeah, after my dad died, she moved here to spend more time with me,” said Hoseok. Catalina opened the box. A pearl necklace shone back at her.

               “Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “Is she sure?”

               Hoseok nodded.

               “Tell her thank you for me,” said Catalina.

               “You can tell her yourself,” said Hoseok. “She’ll be at the party tonight. My sister will be here too.”

               With that, he left Catalina to finish getting ready. As much as she found Hoseok to be mysterious and even suspicious sometimes despite his sunny personality, Catalina was looking forward to meeting his mother and sister. Maybe they could give some insight on the secretive dancer.

               Catalina’s normally long, dark wavy hair was curled into smooth ringlets. She twisted it up into an updo as best she could with hanging strands. She fastened her hair in the back with a jeweled clip. Her hosiery was tight and uncomfortable, but when she put her dress on, it made her body look smooth and seamless, her matching red lingerie properly hidden. The pearl necklace completed the look and Catalina couldn’t stop looking at herself in the full-length mirror. Her dark curls framed her face, which was made up to make her dark eyes look bigger and sharper. Her makeup was light, just enough to make her bronze skin look flawless. The dress accentuated all her curves, and she could barely see her back in the mirror, but the dip came down dangerously low. The lace sleeves didn’t keep her warm, but they were delicate and elegant.

               Catalina couldn’t wait to show off her dress, and she couldn’t wait to see the boys in their suits.

               When Catalina came downstairs, Jin and Jimmy K had arrived and were in the foyer making conversation with Namjoon, along with a handsome stranger. All of them stopped talking to stare at her. She felt her face heat up. Jimmy K approached and held out a hand as she came down the last few steps.

               “You look incredible,” he said.

               “Jimmy K, I’m not at this party alone,” she said with a smirk.

               “I know,” he said. “Save me a dance though, would you?”

               “Sure,” said Catalina. “Where’s Jungkook?”

               “He was still getting ready, last I checked,” said Namjoon. “He should be down any minute.”

               Catalina looked at the stranger and Namjoon jumped in to introduce her.

               “Catalina, this is Dr. Vera Carlisle,” he said. “She’s a professor at the university I used to teach at.”

               Dr. Carlisle smiled and shook hands with Catalina. She had short, styled hair and was wearing a smart suit. Namjoon leaned in to say quietly, “Dr. Carlisle is the one who helps us get blood from the blood bank.”

               “Isn’t that like, taking blood away from patients who need it?” Catalina asked.

               “We have a lot of volunteers who give blood for exactly these situations,” said Dr. Carlisle. “There’s a bit of a community around the vampire life and, not surprisingly, people are infatuated with it.”

               Catalina had so many more questions, but at that moment, everyone looked to the staircase. Catalina followed their gazes and she let out a gasp. She couldn’t believe how good Jungkook looked. He seemed to be coming down the stairs in slow motion, at least that’s how Catalina saw it. His suit was black with red accents, and instead of a tie, he wore delicate gold chains looped under the collar. His hair was slicked back, revealing the shaved undercut and he might have even been wearing a slight amount of makeup around his eyes, making them a bit darker than usual. Catalina let go of the breath she was holding when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

               “Guk, you look…” Catalina couldn’t even find the right word. “I love…this is…”

               Jungkook smiled at her and said, “You too, Cat.”

               He let Catalina take his hand and pull him closer. They were alone in the foyer now, so Catalina had no reservations about leaning in and placing a kiss on his neck, right under his ear. Her red lipstick left a kiss-shaped stain on his skin.

               “So that everyone here will know who you belong to,” said Catalina.

              Jungkook’s face was bright red and he sounded breathless as he said, “You should just get a collar for me next time.”

              Catalina raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting that response, but she found herself dwelling on the thought for the rest of the night.

.

.

.

[marshmallowprotection]

could you write some headcanons (idk if it's the right word sorry TT like... what would he do) for the power-play dynamics with unknown?

It's not inherently sexual or lewd. I feel like I need to say that. I generally don't answer NSFW asks, however, I do accept NSFW commissions if that is what you want. I keep it PG-13 around here as much as humanly possible.

When it comes to the power play, Unknown wants you to be very very vulnerable with him, so much so that you can be a cowering mouse in the face of a wild cat who's gonna eat you. Or, play with you first, you decide because he's not going to let you know what he is thinking at any moment.

No, it's easier to see you crumble underneath him and see how long it takes for you to cry.

I've described him before as someone that likes to pull your hair on the playground. He wants to see you tremble and cry. It's a testament to his power and it's not unlike what Suit Saeran does to the MC; It's just that Unknown doesn't need the validation of his strength. What he needs is confirmation that you are his assistant and that he is the only one that can get to you like this without mercy. He wants to be the one that gets to draw everything out of you, cries, pleads, and whimpers. It doesn't matter what is happening, he wants to see you react. He's used to being all alone and now he's got someone he can twist and torment.

He's in charge of you. He's in charge of your fate and that's a power that he takes seriously when it comes down to it.

When he wants to remind you that he is in charge, he's too quick to yank you into his lap. He likes the pressure of your weight and the way that you inhale sharply, trying to not move or make a fuss because you know his trigger is very short. Sometimes he may lash out and other times he may push you to the edge without stopping. There will be times when his arms tap against your sides as he's typing and you're subjected to waiting every single thing that he is doing whether you understand or not; and, he expects you to react and learn what he's doing piece by piece.

He thinks it's cute to make you realize how much power he holds in his hands and how easily it would be to destroy a life that hurt him just like that. If you help him search for the next party planner, he'll make sure you see how he watched you and what he's done in the past. He hopes that you know how intensely he watched you and how you should've been proactive years ago... too trusting, tsk, tsk, tsk. You only got a head when you knew that he could bite.

What a shame that is.

"Relax... you're already with me," he'd purr. "I'm not going to take another assistant when I've still got much fun to have with you, kitten."

When he's not engrossed in his work, one of his hands will trace the outline of your body. He will brush against your torso, your waist, your hips, anywhere he can reach. If he really wants to make you squirm, he rests his head against your shoulder and watches as you shiver and shake against him with his breath so close to the nape of your neck and his lips dangerously close to teasing you. Oh, you want it? If you make him think you want it, he'll torment you and berate you for it. He'll degrade you and call you filthy and a strange pet.

You like him? You like the monster under your bed?

What a weirdo!

Expect that to happen quite often. He likes to push the line with you. God, it is quite often that he catches you in a lie, and he'll pin you against the wall, his breath hot in your ears as he tries to slip the truth from you. Even if you didn't lie, he won't believe you. He likes to feel you shake underneath his palms and beg for mercy. If you try and bite back, he just grips your wrist harder against the wall. He only bothers with one wrist. It's a sign that he can easily use his strength against you and out power you just as simple as that. He likes you cowering like a scared little mouse. There is something charming about the way you fit against him when you show your fear so openly.

There's those nights where he will sprawl out on the couch with you. He claims you have to be on the bottom as he lays against you. He doesn't want you running off, but whether he realizes it or not, this is him letting his power slip for just a moment because he likes the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. Even /he/ doesn't want to touch it, coarse, dry, and frayed from the bleach.

He likes to make promises and then make you ask him to keep them. Oh? You wanted to go outside? Ask him. You wanted to do this or that right now? Ask. Like you're a child who needs to ask everything. He likes to see you stammer and stutter.

There's more that he can do. But these are just a few of the ways that he likes to play with power and control.

[waitimcomingtoo]

hi, idk if you're taking requests rn but i was wondering if you could do a peter x astrophilia! reader where they're stargazing and he's just staring at her in awe while she rambles about space and she sees him staring and just blushes n goes quiet 🥺

Astrophilia

Astrophilia- (noun) Love of and/or obsession with planets, stars, and outer space.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

At age fourteen, you didn’t exactly have much on your plate. It was the summer before high school and your days mostly consisted of the same things: Subways rides to the “dangerous” parts of New York (or as far as Aunt May allowed) and trips to random streets you couldn’t find on a map. Some days were spent inside playing Mario Kart until your thumbs hated you, and some days were spent outdoors until the sun had fully set and your parents were just about ready to kill you for being out so late. No matter what you were doing, you days were spent with your best friend Peter Parker. 

You’d been friends since preschool and being apart was not something either of you enjoyed. Today was no different. You were hanging out in Peters room, just three days before high school was going to start.

It was a slow Sunday. You were just sitting on Peters bed, joking around like always. It's been that way for years, Peter and Y/n, the dynamic duo. But you kinda always liked him a little more than a friend. You couldn't help it. Peter was sweet, kind, adorable, respectful, and treated you like royalty. You didn’t know when the platonic moments in your friendship began to feel romantic, but once you noticed, it was all you thought about.

“Do you think the people will be nice?” You asked Peter as you curled into on of his pillows. Peter joined you on the bed and shrugged.

“I’m sure they’ll be nice enough.” He said.

“Do you think the boys will be nice?” You asked the real question that was on your mind.

Peter was quiet for a minute and shifted his position.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and kept his eyes down. “Maybe?”

You sat up on your elbow and faced him.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” You asked him awkwardly. Sometimes, having a boy best friend made conversations like these harder than they needed to be.

“The boys?” Peter squeaked, feeling a weird feeling in his tummy at your sudden interest in guys.

“Yeah.” You said shyly.

“Of course they will.” Peter stated. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“I’m kinda, I don’t know, nerdy.” You shrugged.

“You think you’re nerdy?” Peter asked. “I wear science pun T shirts and my aunt still packs my lunches.”

“Yeah, but what about the whole space thing?” You asked him. You were a bit of a space geek, something Peter adored about you.

“Y/n, you’re a genius when it comes to knowing about space. That doesn’t make you a nerd. That makes you super cool.” Peter assured you. He hated when you felt insecure about your intelligence. You were the smartest person he knew, and he loved that.

“I’m glad you think so, but I doubt high school boys will find my geekiness ‘super cool’.” You said meekly.

“What kind of guys are you into anyway?” Peter pretended to just think of the question, when he’d really been thinking about it for months. You laughed a little to yourself, know long the kind of guys you were into were Peter.

“I don’t know. Nice ones? I don’t really think about it. As long as he’s kind and can make me laugh, I’ll take him.” You shrugged with a small smile. “And if he knows a thing or two about space, that’d be nice too.”

“You’re telling me all a guy has to be is kind, funny, know a little something about space to be with a girl like you?” Peter asked in disbelief. “There’s gotta be something else, something you look for.”

“A girl like me?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know.” Peter scratched the back of his neck. “It was a dumb question. Forget I asked.”

“Okay.” You watched Peter curiously for a moment before looking away. “And I like musicians, by the way.” You blurted. “That’s the thing I look for. Especially the guitar.”

You and Peter dropped the topic and went on as usual.

The first day of school came and went. When the sun set and you finished your homework, you took Peter to the roof to stargaze like you always did. You sat between Peters legs against the chimney and tilted your chins towards the sky.

“Wow.” You breathed.

“The stars are really showing off tonight, aren’t they? Putting on a show for us.” Peter said softly as he watched your reaction to the sky.

“I could look at the sky for hours.” You sighed and held onto Peters arm, which were wrapped around your shoulders.

“They seem so close. Just a few miles from where we are.” Peter commented.

“Well the closest star to Earth is Proxima Centauri. It’s just 4.2 light-years away.” You absentmindedly told Peter a fact about space. You missed the fond smile he gave you as he found himself wanting to know more.

“And the furthest?” He asked.

“The furthest star right now is 100 million light years away. It’s in the M100 galaxy of the Virgo Cluster.” You said like it was common knowledge. Peters eyes gleamed with an inexplicably fondness for your intelligence.

“How many do you think there are? A million?” He asked, playing dumb now to coax more facts out of you.

“About 200 to 400 billion, and about a trillion in the Milky Way.” You answered, suddenly becoming self conscious of your words. “Uh, I’m guessing.”

“Seems like a pretty good guess to me.” Peter shrugged against your body.

“Sorry. I’m being weird. I’ll stop.” You shifted awkwardly and swallowed.

“You’re not being weird.” Peter said defensively. “Tell me about them.”

“What?” You looked over your shoulder at him.

“The stars. Tell me about them. I want to hear everything you know.” Peter smiled sheepishly.

“No you don’t. It’s boring.” You shook your head.

“Not to me.” Peter promised. A smile tugged onto your lips and you turned back towards the sky.

“So, space is infinite, obviously.” You began. “You got your planets, galaxies, moons, nebulas, and of course, stars. My favorite are stars.”

“Me too.” Peter held you closer and rested his chin on your hair as he listened.

“Stars are luminous spheres made of plasma-“

“Plasma?” Peter asked.

“It’s superheated gas threaded with a magnetic field.” You answered. Stars are mostly made of hydrogen, which they fuse in their cores.”

“Got it.” Peter nodded as if he understood a word you said. His sudden interest encouraged you to keep going.

“That process releases energy, which pushes against the weight of the outer layers of the star and stabilizes it. The energy is also released as heat and light, which radiates out to space.” You continued.

“Amazing.” Peter stared at your profile. The way your face lit up when talking about something you loved made Peters heart melt. He could listen to you all night.

“I know, right?” You laughed happily, making Peter grin. “And did you know stars were some of the first objects to form in the early stages of the universe? We’re looking at the same stars dinosaurs, Galileo, and King Henry have looked at. Isn’t that incredible to think about? The same sun that warms our skin has shown on Alice Paul and Stan Lee. That’s why I love space so much.”

“I didn’t know that.” Peter said gently.

“Because people don’t take the time to learn about it.” You sighed in disappointment. “I mean, they teach us about the phases of the moon and whatnot, but they don’t tell us about the basic groundwork of the universe. Like, have you ever been taught how a star is formed?”

“No. Could you tell me?” Peter asked gently.

“Well, as long as you’re asking.” You smiled sheepishly to hide your excitement. “So, star formation happens in clouds of interstellar gas and dust called “nebulae”, right? The star starts to form when the cloud is nudged into a spinning motion, usually by a shock wave from a nearby supernova explosion or something. Clumps begin to form, and they get hotter and hotter as they gain more mass. When the temperature inside reaches 10 million degrees Celsius a star is born.” You recited. You looked over at Peter and noticed that he was dead silent, just staring at you. Your cheeks heated up when Peter didn’t say anything, and you got quiet. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“No, it’s okay.” Peter snapped out of his awe and assured you. “Keep going.”

“Do you really want to hear about stars?” You asked suspiciously.

“No, but I like to hear you talk.” Peter admitted.

"I still can't believe Liz turned you down.” You changed the subject to something more Peters speed. He had asked Liz Allen to the back to school party at Flash’s house and she promptly turned him down. “She's crazy."

You felt Peter shrug against you again and you wondered if you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

"It’s whatever. I didn’t really like her anyway.” Peter answered honestly.

"I know, but still. Who in their right mind would turn you down? She’s lucky you even looked her way.” You said, not even realizing what your words meant to Peter. He felt it too, that shift from platonic to romantic. He was just glad you weren’t facing him and couldn’t see his blush.

“You’re just saying that.” He replied.

“No, I’m not.” You said sincerely. “You're so nice to everyone and so smart. And oh my God, the funniest guy in the world. And not to mention, cute as hell.”

Peters body suddenly felt warm against yours and you wondered if he was blushing.

(Yes, he was)

"Nowhere near as cute as you." He said in a shy voice. You looked back at him gave him a playful shove.

"Oh, shut up. No I'm not." You looked back at the sky to keep yourself from smiling as Peter shook his head.

"You should see the way guys look at you. They practically drool." He muttered, and you could hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Oh, please. No guys stare at me.” You dismissed. “Why would they? I'm nothing special."

Peter finally looked at you and met your eyes.

"Do you really not know you're beautiful?" He asked, confusion in his voice.

"What?” You asked quietly.

"You know you're beautiful, right Y/n?" Peter sat up a little and sounded serious. Unsure of what to say, you didn’t answer and just chewed your lips.

"Did you really not know that?” Peter asked again.

You shook you head and Peter laughed in disbelief.

"I'm not beautiful, Peter. Not like Liz, anyway. Not even close." You said softly, making Peter look at you like you were crazy.

"Yes you are, Y/n.” Peter said firmly. “Inside and out. I can't believe no ones ever told you."

“Why does it matter?” You shrugged.

“Look up.” Peter said suddenly, and you did.

“You see those stars? All 200 to 400 billion of them?” He asked and you nodded. “You are more beautiful than every single one of them. Even the trillion in the Milky Way. And you’re wrong. The closest star isn’t 4.2 light years away. She’s sitting right next to me.”

“You listened.” You smiled small and looked back down at him.

"I always listen.” Peter told you. That's it, hand me my backpack.” He commanded. You laughed but did as you were told. Peter began to dig in his backpack, emptying it of books to find what he was looking for.

"What are you doing?" You asked him. He didn't answer, but pulled a small ukulele out of his bag.

“Since when do you play?” You asked in shock. You were so sure you knew everything there was to know about Peter Parker.

“Since about three days ago.” Peter answered as he held the instrument to his ear and tuned it.

"Just listen, okay? I know it’s not a guitar, but listen.” He asked calmly. You nodded, dying to see where this was going as he began to strum his ukulele. His fingers soon found the rhythm and a melody flowed out. You didn't recognize the song a first, but soon realized it was You're Beautiful by James Blunt. You smiled and rested your hand on his knee as he played.

"My life is brilliant, my love is pure. I saw an angel, of that I'm sure." He sang softly. Not only could Peter play, the boy could sing. His voice was smooth and angelic, making your heart flutter. You’d never been serenaded before and it was definitely something you could get used to.

"You're beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, it's true. I saw your face in a crowded place and I don't know what to do. Cause I'll never be with you." He continued the song, finally looking away from the strings and into your eyes. You listened to him as closely as you could, basking in the moment. There was that incredible voice that you loved. Peter was always shy about things he was good at, and you wondered if that’s why you’d never heard his singing before. You felt robbed of his glory for the past 14 years.

"There must be angel with a smile on her face when she thought up that I should be with you.” He sang through a smile.

You beamed at him and his cheeks grew pinker and pinker. Peters fingers dragged along the strings as he approached the final verse.

"But it's time to face the truth; I will never be with you." He strummed once more before setting the ukulele down on his lap. He looked very satisfied with his little serenade before looking up at you for approval. You looked up into his brown eyes and broke into a huge smile.

"That was beautiful, Peter. I loved it.” You told him honestly as you reached over and took his hand. “But some of those lyrics are a lie."

Peter put the ukele back in his bag and sighed.

"No they're not, Y/n. You really are beautiful." He promised.

You laughed softly and toyed with his fingers.

"No, not those lyrics." You shook your head and Peter looked confused.

"Then, which lyrics?" He asked.

You held your breath and looked away from his gaze. It was time to take a leap of faith. “The ones that say ‘I'll never be with you’, I mean.That’s not true. At least, I hope it’s not true.” You look into Peters eyes and search them for a reaction. You thank your lucky stars when you see his face light up and a huge grin making its way across his lips.

"REALLY?!" He asked excitedly, then clears his throat and tries to look casual. "I mean um, really?" Peter asked with all the hope on the world in his eyes.

“Really.” You confirmed.

"Truth is Y/n, Liz didn’t turn me down. I actually turned her down for a the party because…” he trailed off.

"Because?" You asked, encouraging him to continue.

"Because, well...you're the one that I want. Not her or any other girl. I wanna be with you." He said softly and carefully, in fear of being rejected.

Little did he know, you had been dreaming of being his for months at that point. You didn't want to spend another second being just his friend. Peter looked at you longingly, expecting you to say something. But you didn't say anything; you just leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, gently in the pale moonlight. Peter seemed surprised at first, but then kissed you back, cupping your cheek with his hand. You leaned forward and pushed him back against the base of the chimney, melting into him. You finally broke apart and stared at each other in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's presence. He brought his slightly cold hand back to your cheek and you leaned into it.

"I really like you, Y/n.” Peter smiled, looking the happiest you’d ever seen him.

"I really like you too, Peter.” You smiled back.

Peter laughed in joy and kissed you again.

“Do you want to go to that party together?” Peter suggested “As a couple?”

“I would love to.” You agreed to his offer and turned around again to settle into his arms. You tilted your chins towards the sky again, returning to your stargazing. This time, you weren’t thinking about space. Stars weren’t your favorite thing in the universe anymore. Now, it was Peter Parker.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend

[takethisroad]

Idk if you're still taking prompts but I'm tipsy and all my heart desires is Jack Rackham just fuckin. Feelin himself. Like he's got a great outfit on, gender expression is optional, he's just feelin beautiful and havin a good time. Bonus for any extra Anne being snarky/supportive, and bonus for VaneRackham because I'm weak for them, but truly anything goes

Listen, I am always taking prompts! Plus, I LOVE THIS. What a wonderful prompt! (I am also combining this with @snooksscribbles request for a “fashion-forward Jack moment” because do we not all love our favourite disaster pirate being at the cutting edge of the latest trends? We do.)

Also, this ficlet comes with its own meme.

Jack is a trans man in this. I am cis; any mistakes or misrepresentations are my fault alone.

Honestly, can we please all take a collective Moment to imagine - they’ve just come into port to refit and celebrate after their latest haul. Evening is falling fast as the sun sinks heavy beneath the choppy waves in the harbour, casting long blue shadows down the dusty streets of Nassau town.

It could be peaceful, if it weren’t for the raucous din coming from the brothel: drunken men, merchants and pirates alike hollering for ale and rum and whores; the jeering, bawdy laughter of onlookers at the gambling tables mixing with the tight high giggles of women pretending to be amused. Later, Jack knows, there will be fighting added to the mix; there always is, when the Ranger crew is ashore, no matter how recent the conquest at sea. Hallett will spit in Old Man Cooper’s drink, or Wilkins will crack one too many jokes about Price’s mum being a goat, and everything will devolve into fists and swords and slaughter until Jack goes down to do his duty as quartermaster, appeasing all the fragile egos and cleaning the mess up again.

But until then, he’s here. The rooms in the brothel aren’t soundproof by any means (and privately Jack thinks Max must like it that way, allowing her to keep a bead on the mood downstairs at any given time) but with the door closed and the room illuminated by the slanting rays of the sinking sun and the candles on the table, he can almost pretend. The flickering candlelight plays over the treasure trove spread across the bed. It is, if not the haul of a lifetime, at least the best haul this month to be sure. (Other men may not think so, but other men don’t have Jack’s flair for fashion.) He runs his hands reverently over the array of fabric: here, the slippery smoothness of a silk-lined waistcoat, there, the fine, airy weave of a muslin shift.

A snort draws his attention up from the pile of clothes to where Anne is holding a satin skirt like it’s a dead animal. “There’s dresses in this,” she says, in the tone of one handling something particularly gruesome or slimy.

“There are,” Jack murmurs in agreement while sizing up a burgundy wool coat. The silver thread used for the embroidery is unraveling in several places, but overall it seems serviceable enough. When he lowers it, Anne is still looking at him.

“You don’t like dresses. Don’t he know that?” Jack nods. “Why’d he give you this, then?”

"I believe he just crammed what he could into the crate,” Jack answers honestly. Then, at her skeptical look: “Darling, please let’s neither of us delude ourselves that Charles Vane would take the time to sort through petticoats and sashes during a raid.”

Anne drops the skirt. “Fine.” She stomps back over to the chair in the corner and flings herself into it, posture insolent as any man’s. Jack’s heart squeezes with almost painful fondness at the sight.

“I wouldn’t have taken it if it truly bothered me,” he says after a moment of her mulish silence. He knows she knows, but still, better to make it explicit. He wants to enjoy tonight and her and Vane at each other’s throats is not on the agenda.

There’s no reply from the chair, but the tight line of her lips eases slightly, which he counts as a victory. He turns his attention back to the clothes. Where to start?

The sun has set completely by the time Jack decides on an outfit. The candles are dripping wax onto the bare wood of the table, but their light is at least good enough to see himself by in the tarnished mirror. He twists one way, then the other, before turning to Anne. “What do you think?”

It’s quite a sight if he does say so himself. The blue silk chemise catches the light and ripples like waves with his every movement. He sheds his baldric to better admire the patterns of small flowers printed at the hems and collar; no expense was spared in this craftsmanship.

Anne has been silent. “Something the matter, darling?”

“No.” Then, a moment later: “Why’re you bothering? Getting all fancy for him?”

Jack pauses where he’d been fiddling with his favourite orange cravat. “For him? No, no this is for me.”

Anne looks at him suspiciously.

“It feels good. Sometimes one does things for no other reason than that.”

Anne stares at him a moment longer, as if parsing the veracity of his statement. She must reach a conclusion because she sighs and stands up. “It brings out your eyes.”

Jack fiddles with his rings to hide the smile her words bring to his lips. It doesn’t bring out his eyes; it does clash horribly with the yellow brocade justacorps he shrugs on. But he recognizes that comment for what it is: Anne, offering support, which is infinitely more wonderful to him than all the silk chemises in the world.

“Thank you,” he says softly. Then, as she heads towards the door, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

She nods once and is gone, leaving Jack alone in the room. He twists to the mirror again, admiring the swish and fall of the fabric, the rakish silhouette it creates. For a moment, he hears the rustling of silk and remembers the same sound, from long ago. He takes a breath and squares his shoulders, reminds himself of the years and oceans between now and then. He is not thirteen anymore, and now he has Anne, who will kill anyone who tries to put him in a dress. Even Charles. The thought is oddly comforting, and Jack whistles to himself as he takes one last indulgent look in the mirror and heads downstairs.

The sun may have gone down but the volume of the tavern has only gone up. Patrons are spilling rum and falling all over each other, turning the courtyard into a heaving mess of unwashed bodies and unintelligible voices. Jack pauses on the landing to take stock, noting the other crews that have since come in: he can see Sully, first mate of the Fortitude, cheating at cards with Joshua from the Walrus crew (he makes a mental note to be well clear of this place before Flint ever hears about it); a dozen other regulars are crowded round the bar, hoping against hope to barter for drinks on the house - more the fool they, for Max runs a tight ship.

The real focus of his attention is sitting in a grey haze of smoke off in a corner, and Jack makes his way down the stairs and through the throng of drunk, sweaty pirates with as much grace as he can muster. If he puts a bit of extra swagger in his walk, well. He's Jack bloody Rackham. He's earned it.

Charles is drinking from a tankard of rum. When he sees Jack, it hits the table with a thump.

"Evening, Charles."

A long slow exhalation of smoke. "Jack."

Jack doesn't shiver at the way Charles says his name, but it's close. He nudges at the toe of Charles' boot where his feet are propped on a chair. "Do you mind?"

In another time, in another life, if Jack were someone else, Charles might remove his feet only to kick the chair over, might spread his legs and leer, might drag Jack into his lap, why don't you have a seat here, sweetheart? This isn't that life. Charles removes his feet, shoves the chair and the rum towards Jack who takes both with a nod. He takes a quick swig of the rum, wincing slightly at the bitter burn.

Charles is still looking at him. His cigar is dangling from his fingers, slowly burning down. "The clothes fit, then?"

"Half of it was non-salvageable," Charles' fingers twitch, "but the pieces that were... Well." Jack gestures to himself. "If the clothes make the man, then I am well-made indeed."

"Huh," Charles says. And then: "You look good."

Plain. Simple. Easy. A statement of fact. It has no business sending a thrilling warmth through Jack's veins, and yet. He allows himself the slightest bit of preening. Then, emboldened by the burn of the rum and the weight of silk and brocade against his skin, "Thanks to you."

Charles has precious few tells but the way his eyes narrow fractionally at Jack's words is one of them. A heavy silence falls between them. Jack sits up straighter, squares his shoulders; he doesn't miss the way Charles' gaze tracks to the hollow of his throat.

"Fuck," Charles hisses, dropping the forgotten cigar which has burned down to his fingers. He crushes the stub under his boot heel and looks back to Jack.

"You know, nice as it is to get some peace and quiet -" Jack is cut off as a chair sails through the air to crash against the opposite wall, quickly followed by its occupant, "I was rather hoping we could do something other than sit and brood at each other all evening."

“Yeah?” Charles is leaning forward now, and Jack’s not even sure he knows it. His voice is a deep rumble. “What’d you have in mind?”

Jack plants a hand on the table, stands up. He’s warm from the rum, half-drunk on the freedom of his new clothes and the intoxicating weight of Charles’ dark gaze that hasn’t left him for a moment. He leans forward into Charles’ space and smiles, all teeth. “Why don’t I show you?”

[angeldreifics]

Sophiana Ship Week Day Six

Pairing: Sophie Foster x Biana Vacker

Prompt: Nightmares and Daydreams

Word Count: 1058

Warnings: a bit of angst, nightmares, mentions of kidnapping, talk about having kids. idk maybe more?

(A/N): I think I’m just going to call this series “Domestic Bliss” Or something, because that’s pretty much what it is. 

Sophie wasn’t there.

It was three A.M., and Biana had woken up to an empty bed. She stood up and walked out of their shared bedroom.

“Soph?”

Nothing.

“Sophie, you there?”

She wasn’t in the kitchen, or the living room, or the bathroom. Biana tried outside next, expecting to see her wife sitting on the porch, watching the stars. But she wasn’t there either.

Biana began to panic, fearing the worst.

Had their past finally caught up to them? Did the Neverseen find them?

Was she ever going to see her wife again?

She would have to go after her. Not alone, of course. It would mean she would have to return to the lost cities. She would have to face her family again, and tell them that she had let Sophie get captured.

The guilt would eat her alive.

“Sophie!” She shouted, running out into the yard of their cottage, not bothering to put on a coat or shoes. “Sophie, please answer me!”

“Biana?” There was a rustle in the leaves, and after a few moments, Sophie jumped out of the tree and walked over to her panicking wife. “Hey, hey, calm down.”

“I thought they had taken you!” Biana whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was so scared.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve left a note.” Sophie apologized and wrapped an arm around Biana’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

“I-” She swallowed. “I thought the Neverseen had taken you. I thought they had found us.”

“I’m here.” Sophie promised gently. “I’m here, and I’m ok.”

“But-”

“Come on, Bi.” She cooed. “Let’s go inside.”

Biana let herself be led inside and sat down on the couch. Sophie sat beside her, grabbing a blanket and putting it over the two of them. She hugged her wife, holding her close, trying to get her to stop crying.

“What were you doing out there?” Biana finally asked.

“I had a nightmare.” Sophie admitted, looking away and playing with a few threads from the edge of the blanket. “Couldn’t fall back asleep after, so I got up and I guess I just ended up in a tree.”

“You should’ve woken me up.” Biana said, taking her hand. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

“I know.” Sophie said softly, still not meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have disappeared like that.”

Biana was silent for a few minutes, rubbing her thumb across Sophie’s hand. She knew Sophie loved her and trusted her for the most part, but there were still walls that she had to try and break down. Her wife was always one to keep her problems to herself, but Biana worried that it wasn’t healthy.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She finally asked gently. 

Sophie shook her head. “It was just the same thing it always is.”

The kidnapping. 

Sophie was constantly reliving that day. It played over and over in her mind, haunting her dreams. It may have happened years ago, but the effects would last a lifetime. She held onto a lot of guilt from that night. It was her fault Dex had been taken too, wasn’t it? She should’ve done more to stop it. 

Biana pulled Sophie close, leaning her head on Sophie's. 

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

----

“What are you thinking about?”

The two sat on their front porch. The sun was shining overhead, the sky completely cloudless. A gentle breeze blew through the trees, leaves rustling gently. There was a creek at the far end of their property, and if you listened hard enough, you could hear the gentle gurgle of the flowing water. 

Sophie was reading a book. Ever since she had come back, she had appreciated reading human books more. The elves would say that human books weren’t good reading because elves were smarter than humans, but Sophie had to disagree. It was nice to be able to just read and enjoy herself, without worrying about anything. She had chosen a romance novel, something light and easy.

Biana was painting her nails. She had started trying to do fancy designs, enjoying the meticulous work. Sophie even let her practice on her nails weekly, enjoying the time with her wife.

Biana looked up from what she was doing. “Hmm? Oh nothing I guess.”

“You looked lost in thought.” Sophie said, closing her book gently. 

“I was daydreaming.” Biana admitted.

“About what, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Biana hesitated. “Our future.”

“What about it?” Sophie was curious.

“Well… we’ve been married for about a year now.” Biana started. “And if this was our life forever, I would be happy.”

“But…?” Sophie prompted.

“Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Sophie froze. 

“I’m not saying we should!” Biana said quickly. “I was just thinking that it’s an option, you know? We could adopt or something, since I don’t know how human medicine would help with elves. That seems risky. But adoption is a route we could take. Again, not saying we should.”

She trailed off, noticing Sophie was still quiet. Had she messed up? Did she freak Sophie out? “I’m not sure.” Sophie finally said. “I’ve never really had the chance to think about being a mom.”

Between everything with the Neverseen, being unmatchable, and then realizing that she was pretty gay, being a parent had just never seemed like an option. But, it was possible. They could have a family together.

It would be a lot of work, and a lot of money. Were they ready? Would they ever be ready? 

“I need time to think.” Sophie muttered. “But that’s me saying no.”

“Take as much time as you need.” Biana said quickly.

Sophie nodded and looked off into their yard, thinking deeply.

She was pretty sure she wanted kids. But she and Biana didn’t really have a support system. They had a few friends from work, but no one was all that close. Afterall, they couldn’t really talk about their past with humans. 

The kid probably wouldn’t ever know their grandparents, or their uncles. And they would have to adopt, which meant a human baby. A baby who would grow up and definitely notice when they were aging but their mothers weren’t. Their child would probably die before them. 

The only way this would work was if they went back.

Was having kids worth it?

I hope y’all enjoyed this, and as always feeback is appreciated!

[crimsonbluemoon]

6, 3, 7 H2OVanoss! You know me heh ( •ॢᴗ•ॢ⋈)

Ahhh Owlbun! So I hope this fits the perimeters of a cute-meet cause I don’t know if it does but I think it does? Idk, its cute, please enjoy this mess of a story. >.> It’s a diff style than I normally do, but….hope it works out!

AU: Coffee shopTrope: Meet cutePrompt: “You had no idea, did you?”

Pairing: H2O Vanoss

If Evan was being honest, he hadn’t expected the chalkboard wall at his coffee shop to make much of a difference. The Owl Cafe was a staple in the community, and he had an okay group of regulars that liked to come in and check out his new blends on the daily. There were ones he knew by name, like the 6 year old girl Momo who loved Brian’s hot chocolate, or the late-night writer Kryoz who always seemed to appear when the place was deserted. Some regulars he didn’t catch names for, so he titled them as he saw fit; Runner man, vlogger teen, cute sweatshirt guy. All had their place in his cafe, which was steady in its sales. He wasn’t rolling in cash, but it was enough to pay Brock and Brian, so he felt that he was doing alright. 

The chalkboard had been something of a whim. A friend when he was younger had a wall in his bedroom with chalkboard paint that Evan had always enjoyed drawing on before bed. When he’d bought the cafe two years ago, he hadn’t really remembered the fun times he had scribbling across the bedroom wall. He was too focused on payments and attracting customers to stroll down memory lane. That had changed three months ago when bumping into Lui, the two speaking about their times as a child. The wall came up, of course, and Evan couldn’t let the memory go for days after. Lots of his customers had children, and college kids were always quick to bore when waiting for coffee. So one night, after a really good week at the shop, Evan went out and bought the paint in order to make his wall next to the waiting area a drawing board. 

The result was amazing; people loved coming by and adding their own doodles to the wall, filling it with different styles of art or funny sayings. There were always the punks who tried to draw dicks or write derogatory marks, but street justice tended to stop the crimes far quicker than Evan or his friends picked up on them. Evan enjoyed looking at the board at the end of the night, seeing what secrets it held from the customers he served. He tried to guess who drew what, or where each blurb of inspiration writing came from. Was the struggling mother of three the one who drew the calm beach? Did the preppy college girl express her darker thoughts in the corner of the board? Or was that old couple who shared a coffee really sweet enough to write their 70th anniversary with a heart around it? All of the pieces of the board was a collection of minds, hearts, and souls, and the nights didn’t feel complete for the shop owner without gazing at them in appreciation.  

His favorite part was the confessions; like an anonymous message board, people left words of secrecy every day. Evan felt it was a safe way for customers to express themselves without having to reveal their identity, and so far he hadn’t gotten any confessions that worried him. Brock always enjoyed reading the romantic ones where someone would claim their love for a friend, an ex, or a person they could never have. Brian’s favorites were the weird claims; he made Evan keep the ‘I like smelling feet’ confession up for three days. Evan couldn’t really say he had a type he sought out, because all of them were fun to read. If anything, he liked taking in the handwriting of the confessions, seeing whose were quaking with fear or more broad with confidence that only anonymity provided. 

It was nearly two months into owning the board that a message caught his eye; it didn’t have much color or outlandish design to it, so Evan wasn’t sure why it stuck out to him so much. But the writing just…looked different. Friendly. A little messy but with long enough strokes to show some care went into it. The words only took up a small part of the board. 

I come here every day because I think the owner is nice. And maybe cute? I wanted to ask for his name, but I’m too nervous.

Evan blinked in surprise, feeling his face heat up when he read it again. Someone…confessed about him? It was sort of risky, since this was his shop and he could have checked in on the board at any time, but it was also endearing. Someone was too shy to approach Evan, but felt strong enough about him to confess on his wall? He read the line two more times while he cleaned off every other drawing and confession, leaving the words in the middle of the board. Slowly, his eyes dropped down to the basket of chalk at the bottom of the wall, fingers twitching by his side. Despite having it for months, he’d never actually written on it. He left designing the morning greeting to Brock, as he was the artistic one of the three. But now…

He kept the confession where it was, drawing a little circle around it with the red chalk. Then, with block letters bright enough to catch any returning customer’s attention, he wrote out a simple reply. 

It’s Evan. Nice to meet you.

He didn’t think about the teasing Brian would rain on him, or how unlikely it was for him to get a response. The confessions were meant to be anonymous, not openers for conversation. So sure that his words would be left unanswered, Evan didn’t look once at the board the following day, trying to keep focused on making his customer’s happy. Any time he wasn’t working, he rushed into the back, trying to stay occupied so he didn’t stare at the wall. The day dragged on forever, but when the final customer was out the door, Evan nearly fell flat on his face vaulting over the counter to move to the board. 

“Desperate much, buddy?” Brian’s shout from across the shop went ignored when Evan scanned the wall, looking for any sign of a response. At first, the words around the response were disheartening; nothing connected to what he’d said. The drawings were still cute, and he wanted to read the confessions, but his heart slightly dropped at the sight. Had he scared off the anonymous messenger? He felt his frown start to capture his lips, but then his eye picked up on something. A blue circle had been wrapped around Evan’s words, and a line of chalk was drawn to the left of the board. Curious, his eyes tracked the line. Like thread in a maze, Evan was led to a familiar handwriting. 

Your name fits you! I’m…Jonathan. Is that okay? 

“Jonathan.” He rolled the name around in his mouth, his smile small when he finished. He knew instantly what his new secret penpal was asking, and he found the red chalk from before in order to scribble out his answer. 

That’s totally okay. I bet your name fits you, too, though I’m not sure who you are. Care to give me a hint? 

And for the next two weeks, the hints poured out. 

I like to wear blue a lot. Luke says it matches my eyes. But I think yours are prettier.

Evan counted seventy three customers with blue eyes who wore blue that day, but it did little to limit his search. 

I saw you drop that lady’s coffee on purpose. She deserved it for treating Brock like that. You’re a really good boss.

The incident had been in the morning around rush hour, which probably meant his penpal was at least his age. 

You only wear hats when you clean the mocha machine; it really looks good on you. 

Except this was something he did at night, so maybe he had different shifts throughout the week? 

Whenever little Momo comes in, you always give her the best smile. Sometimes I wish you’d smile at me like that.

Evan’s face hurt from how many smiles he gave out that day, but there had been nobody who hinted at knowing why he’d been grinning so much. 

You’re so beautiful. I really want to ask you on a date. 

Evan’s face flush red for the rest of the night. 

After the days of trying to piece together just who ‘Jonathan’ was, Evan was almost ready to throw in the towel. The little banter between them was fun, and peeks of Jonathan’s personality came out with doodles or smilies at the end of his sentences. He mentioned his friends, his dog, and if Evan closed his eyes, he could almost make out a voice to the words. Everything just felt so familiar about this guy, like he was already seated comfortably in Evan’s life. But he just couldn’t come up with a name, or anything to sink his teeth into. 

So, with a shot of courage (Brian may have supplied the alcohol) and nothing to lose, Evan wrote out one final message. 

Anything but coffee, and I’ll say yes.

Evan tried not to look at the board, just like the first day, hoping he wouldn’t scare away his crush by staring the wall down. Brock and Brian helped distract him, jokingly picking out old men and toddlers as ‘his secret admirer’ before laughing at the outlandish suggestions. Evan tried to smile and joke with them, but his shaking hands when giving out the orders always proved how nervous he was. Each time a customer came up to him, his back tensed, wondering if it’d be his penpal. But they never were, always asking for sugar or a bag for their half eaten muffin. 

When the last minutes of the day ticked away, and just a few regular souls lingered in the cafe, Evan finally broke. He left Brian and Brock behind the counter to walk up to the wall, hands shoved in the pockets of the apron to hide his twitching fingers. Slowly, his eyes scanned the board, trying to find the blue handwriting he’d grown to adore over the couple weeks he’d gotten to see it. But there was nothing; his crush hadn’t replied. 

“I scared him away.” Evan sighed and pressed his head to the chalkboard, eyes closing in defeat. His shoulders slumped down, unable to hide his disappointment. He’d just wanted to know who this guy was, because starting to fall for a chalkboard he technically owned was starting to feel a little creepy-

“Um.” An unsure voice made Evan bite back a groan, trying to keep his composure. Even if he was being ghosted by an anonymous customer, it didn’t mean he could ignore his other ones. Pulling back from the wall, Evan turned to catch sight of a familiar face. Cute sweatshirt guy had been a regular for months, always polite but never one to really engage in much conversation with Evan or the others. He always contributed it to the slight stutter in his speech, which only seemed to come out in longer sentences. It was actually kind of late for cute sweatshirt guy to be at the cafe; he’d bought his coffee close to an hour ago, and though he normally left right after, he’d seemed to linger now. He’d been one of the people who’d come up to Evan, looking like he was going to burst out in a confession, only to ask for creamer.

And sugar.

And a new cup.

…And more creamer.

For a coffee he always drank black.

“Wait.” Evan’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes widened on the blue gaze nervously watching him, fingers curled into the worn down sweatshirt that was identical in color. 

“Yeah, I’m-that was me. Jonathan. Who you were-I’m the guy tha–that, um, fuck. Luke said I should’ve just-but the wall was…was our thing.” Jonathan’s face lit up in color at the confession, the nervous laugh that poured out loud and uncontrolled. It echoed from the emptiness of the cafe, and both men jumped when Brian swore and knocked over a stack of cups in surprise. Tagging that as future Evan’s problem, he turned his attention back to Jonathan, who looked ready to let his sweatshirt swallow him whole. The smile he gave only lifted half his mouth, proving he didn’t feel confident. “You had no idea, did you?”

“None,” Evan admitted, hands pulling out of his apron at the defeated look that sunk over Jonathan. 

“Right, that’s- I don’t have to ask you on a date if this isn’t what you…if I’m not who you-”

“Ask me!” Evan cut him off fast, not wanting to let Jonathan feel rejected for a second longer. He rushed forward, snagging hands that tugged the end of torn sleeves to entwine their fingers. Blue eyes widened above him, but Evan refused to let his racing heart of reddened cheeks stop him from repeating his confession from before. “Anything but coffee, and I’ll say yes.” 

“Dinner? Can I-would you like to get food with me tomorrow?” Like a puppy, Jonathan’s body perked up at the possibility. Evan laughed before lifting their hands to cup Jonathan’s cheeks. He pushed up onto his toes, feeling the slight intake of his customer’s breath before he answered with a kiss.

But just to be safe, he wrote ‘yes’ on the chalkboard the next morning.

[elwingflight]

Coronavirus: Information & Guidelines

What you can do now, and what to prepare for

There seems to be a lack of what-to-do suggestions on tumblr beyond handwashing, so I thought I’d put something together. I’ve never actually encouraged people to reblog something of mine before, but this might be the time. To be clear: I am not personally a public health expert of any kind. Both my parents are (epidemiology/global health degrees, worked for CDC) and I’ve run this by them. My information is coming from disease researchers on twitter and official public health guidelines online. Sources at the end of the post. This is mostly directed at people in countries where COVID-19 has been reported (I’m in the U.S.), but is not *yet* widespread in the community. Written Mar. 1st 2020, last updated 3/9 (shorter, helpful twitter thread here, helpful NPR article here)

General Info

Firstly, a lot of politicians are *still* trying to sugarcoat things, but it should be clear by now that the new coronavirus is spreading widely and will continue to do so. Because of the incubation period, and in the U.S. at least the delay in testing, the number of cases is almost certainly going to increase rapidly in the near future no matter what we do now. Official government sources are helpful, but its also good to look at what experts on viral epidemics who aren’t directly government-affiliated are saying. Their agenda is purely informing the public in the most constructive way possible, without politics getting in the way.

Two key points- COVID-19 can have a long incubation period (the time from when you catch the virus to when you start showing symptoms) and most people don’t get severe symptoms. Some are entirely asymptomatic, but most people get typical flu-like symptoms. Specifically, the early symptoms to watch out for are a fever and dry cough (meaning, a stuffy nose is probably just a regular cold). Its possible but unlikely to transmit the virus while asymptomatic, most transmission happens when you have heavier symptoms.

The most vulnerable people are the elderly (~ over 60) and those with preexisting health conditions (i.e. cardiovascular disease, respiratory condition, diabetes), or a simultaneous infection with something else (NOT kids in particular!) So far the mortality rate has been about 1-2% (compared to 0.1% for the general winter flu - yes, this really is worse). However, that might be an overestimate, both because people with mild cases aren’t getting tested (the denominator should be bigger), and because the early situation in Wuhan, where a lot of our numbers come from, was especially bad in regards to availability of healthcare.

This is an emotional, difficult situation. Don’t panic. The world didn’t end in 1918, and its not going to end now. But it is very serious, and we need to be thinking about it rationally, not pretending everything is just going to be okay, or uselessly pointing blame. Take care of your mental health, and check in with each other. Epidemics test our generosity and selflessness. Those qualities are needed right now, but don’t neglect yourself either.

What You Can Do Now

There is stuff everyone can do both to prevent yourself from getting infected, and to prepare if you do. ***The big picture to keep in mind is that the biggest risk of epidemics is that they overwhelm our system, especially our healthcare system. What I mean by this is that our society is built to deal with a certain volume of things happening at once- people buying groceries, getting sick, etc. If we suddenly all rush to do something, we overburden these systems and they won’t be there for the people who need them most. Therefore our goal is to slow down the spread of disease, buying time and lowering the overall burden on these systems. This is called “flattening the curve”. It looks like this, and I cannot stress how important this is.***

A very helpful thread on preparedness

Staying Healthy

Like similar viruses (think colds and flu), COVID-19 is mostly transmitted from person to person, usually by close contact but sometimes from an infected surface. More here.

Wash your hands. Everyone has heard this one- 20 seconds, soap all over your hands, wash the soap off. If you can’t wash your hands use an alcohol-based hand sanitizer (at least 60% alcohol). But handwashing is absolutely better. Also- cough into your elbow/shoulder, not your hand, and avoid shaking hands- try elbow bumps or maybe a polite nod instead! If you’re handwashing so much that you’re hands are threatening to crack and bleed though, consider washing more strategically or using hand sanitizer instead.

In combination with hand-washing- stop touching your face, especially while out! This takes practice, everyone does it all the time without thinking. A good practice is to avoid touching your face while out, then wash your hands thoroughly as soon as you get home.

Similarly, avoid touching surfaces as much as possible! Particularly bad are door handles, elevator buttons, that kind of thing. The virus can probably (based on studies of related viruses) last a while on these. Regular gloves can help a bit. Use a tissue then throw it away, use your elbow, etc.

Do Not buy face masks! There’s mixed evidence on whether they’re at all helpful when used by the general public to prevent catching a virus, but actual medical professionals who need them are facing shortages (that’s probably part of why so many healthcare workers got sick in Wuhan), so our buying them up is really bad. The only times you should be wearing them is if you yourself are sick (they do help then!) or if you’re looking after a sick person. Seek instruction in that case in how to use them properly. (Thread on why buying those fancy masks is not good).

If COVID-19 is in your community, try to stay 6 feet from people, which basically means going places as little as possible. See below.

Planning Ahead

Its also a good idea to prepare in case you need to self-quarantine. Self-quarantine is necessary if you’ve potentially been exposed to COVID-19, or if you’re sick but not enough to need to go to the hospital. Follow local guidelines- if there’s lots of transmission in your area, nonessential workers will probably be advised to stay home as much as possible.

If you’re able, get medication now. Don’t go crazy and buy out the drug store, just a reasonable amount. Try to get at least a month’s worth of any prescription medications. This can be hard at least in the U.S. - your doctor may well be able to prescribe more, but insurance companies and drug stores can be terrible. I’ve found trying a different drugstore can sometimes help. Try your best. They may also be reluctant to prescribe more to avoid causing shortages. Idk what the right answer is here.

Don’t go crazy and buy out the store, but start getting a little extra shelf-stable or frozen food. Even some root vegetables that will last a few weeks. You want enough for 2 weeks in case of self-quarantine, but you do NOT want to empty out stores. Panic buying is definitely a stress on the system. Just add a few extra things each time you shop. Don’t forget about pets. You can always eat the food and replenish it over time.

Make a plan with your family/community. If someone gets sick or needs to self-quarantine, is there a corner of the house they can stay in? Who can take care of them? etc. I haven’t focused on plans for schools/religious communities/workplaces etc but those are very important too! This is one place where keeping an eye on local and national news is important. In the U.S., for example, school systems are planning ways to make food available to kids if they’re not going to school.

If COVID-19 is starting to spread in your community, think about how else you can be a good community member. Cancelling nonessential doctor’s appointments, surgeries etc may be very important, for example. If schools are closed, can you help out neighbors with childcare? Do you have a cleaner who may need to be payed in advance if there’s a quarantine?

If You Might Be Sick/Need to Quarantine

See likely symptoms above. Remember, normal colds still exist, and if you go to the doctor for every one of those you will overwhelm the system.

Don’t just go to a hospital! Call ahead to your doctor/clinic/hospital and get instructions on what to do. Getting healthcare workers sick is something we really want to avoid. That said, DO get tested as soon as possible, and act as if you are contagious. The health coverage situation is the U.S. is not yet clear (and ofc its not something the current admin is eager to clarify). Hopefully testing will be covered financially by the government, but I can’t promise that at this time.

In the meantime, stay home and quarantined if you show any symptoms of illness if you possibly, possibly can. This is especially difficult in the U.S. if you don’t have sick leave/childcare, but please. Do your utmost.

Look after yourself. Skype/google hangouts/etc is great for keeping connected. Have some chocolate/chicken broth/other sick foods ready.

The Big Picture

Coronavirus/COVID-19 has not been declared a pandemic yet, but it probably will be before long. This is almost certainly going to get worse before it gets better. We don’t yet know if warmer weather will slow its spread, and a vaccine will probably take about 1-1.5 years to be developed and tested. As I mentioned before, the best thing we can do to keep the world working, minimize mortality, etc is to slow the spread as much as we can, and minimize the strain on the system. Hospitals are going to be overwhelmed. There aren’t infinite unoccupied beds or ventilators, or people to operate them, and supply chains could get disrupted. Thinking about these things is scary, and it will take time to adjust to what’s happening. Start that process now, and help everyone you know reach the point where they’re able to act, not panic. Another reassuring thing- if we slow the spread of COVID-19, in addition to fewer total people getting sick, you will soon have people who are recovered and almost certainly immune. These people will be invaluable as helpers in their communities.

Now that the practical stuff is out of the way, I want to say from a U.S. perspective that yes, our lack of social welfare other countries take for granted is going to hurt us. Lack of access to childcare, no guaranteed paid sick leave, and of course expensive healthcare are massive problems that will make it much harder to limit disease transmission. Help each other in any way you can, and vote for candidates that support implementing these policies! And of course, watch out for propaganda of all kinds, whether its using the virus as an excuse for racism, calls to delay elections, etc. So far my biggest concern is a lack of willingness to admit how serious this is, but we can do this. Lets put extra pressure on politicians to be honest and change policies to actually help people. But, yes, lets also stay united. We need each other now (just, you know, 6 feet apart).

A few sources

In general, the Guardian is a great, free, reliable source of news. In the U.S., NPR (website as well as radio) is another great source. The Washington Post and Seattle Times have made their coronavirus-related coverage open access, not sure about other national newspapers.

twitter thread from World Health Organization (WHO)

U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) COVID-19 homepage (not being updated in some ways it should be, like total # of tests)

A reality check from some non-Governmental experts (basically, what governments don’t want to say yet, which is that this virus is going to spread, and the goal now is to infect as few people as possible, as slowly as possible. Read this.)

Why you should act now, not when things get bad in your area (we’re always operating on outdated information)

If you want the latest technical info, The Lancet (major medical journal group) has all of their content compiled here, open access.

I can do my best to answer questions (i.e. ask my dad) but those or other reliable, readily find-able sources should have you pretty well covered. Do let me know if anything on here is wrong or needs to be updated! Stay safe, stay positive, we can do this.

[closer-stars]

Strength - Hongjoong

Member: Hongjoong

Genre: Comfort? Fluff? 

Word Count: idk a lot.

Content: I had a lot of things going in my personal life so this happened. To those who have requested a fic from me, please wait patiently. I’ve been doing them I promise ;; it's okay to reblog this. 

Hongjoong finds himself unable to go back to sleep. Even if he tries to lay on his side, or his stomach, he didn’t feel any ounce of sleep again. He didn’t want to disrupt Seonghwa’s sleep so he pushed himself out of bed and figured that a glass of water could help him go back to sleep. 

He spots the door to your room still open. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he peeks in. You weren’t in bed sleeping. Were you in the living room? He stumbles down the hallway (maybe pushing himself up all of a sudden was a bad idea), to hopefully see you just in the living room. 

You weren’t. 

He turns to the door, since that was the last logical place he could think of at 2 in the morning. Your house slippers were there but your usual sneakers weren’t. Maybe it was his leader intuition skills, but he decided to check if you were on the roof top again. He quietly grabs his hoodie and puts on his sneakers then making his way to the rooftop hoping you’d be there. 

The ash haired male peeks behind the door. He couldn’t see you from where his view point. He slowly steps out and looks around, eyes scanning for any sign of your familiar figure. His search was fruitful, seeing you lean stand a few feet away from the ledge. Even at times like this, your fear of heights seem to get the better of you. 

“Hey.” He greets you, startling you out of your thoughts. Your hands were deep in the pockets of your hoodie. While his eyes stay at your features, he spots the tell tale sign of coffee that you probably had bought from a convenience store. You hum your greeting to him, your gaze was still steady on what’s in front of you: other rooftops of apartment complexes, facades of other buildings, some rooms still showing signs of life, some dead asleep at this hour. 

It was obvious that you were deep in your thoughts, and he could only assume what caused this. “Can’t sleep?” He asks, leaning against the wall. Knowing you, if he leaned against the railing, he’d get his ear nagged off to not lean on it. He knew better. 

You rub your eyes with your knuckles. You actually can sleep now: your eyelids heavy but your mind was busy. Busy with the words you and your parents had exchanged earlier that day. It hurt you but you didn’t have the heart to tell that to any of them. You were used to fending for yourself. “Kind of yeah..” You say with a dejected laugh as you bring out your coffee and take another sip.

“Hey, how can you sleep when you’re drinking coffee..” Hongjoong’s whines, resulting in you to laugh at how childlike he sounds when he whines. “Ah, really...” He says after hearing you laugh at him. At least you still had some strength in you to be able to laugh. 

“Sorry, just got a lot in my mind, Joong..” You apologize after calming down. The bottle finds itself back in your pocket, slightly pulling your hoodie down lopsidedly. Another sigh slips through your cold lips. Your mind’s a mess of concerns and insecurities. 

He takes his time to study your features: eyebags from the lack of sleep, the dim look of exhaustion in your eyes, the thoroughly bitten lips from constantly overthinking. “Parents?” He asks slowly. He remembered you being in a call with your parents earlier that day. While your earphones cancel any outside noise, the level you have them on can make him hear bits and pieces of the conversation. He only had a vague idea of what it was about but he remembers how steely your face had turned the longer the call went. 

You finally tear your gaze away from the slowly changing sky to him. Seconds pass and they feel like eternity before you nod. “Yeah. The usual conversation that I’ve come to love.” Your tone dry. He knew what that meant and didn’t pry anymore on what words were exchanged. 

Your struggles hit him a lot harder than expected; maybe it was because he too wasn’t one to share of his own struggles to anyone. To see you do the same, he somehow understood why the other members would often remind him to lean on them too. He also understands why you weren’t one to talk as openly as the others when it came down to it. 

For someone who wasn’t a big fan of physical affection as so he claimed, he opens his arms for you. You don’t turn down the invite and let yourself be enveloped by his warmth and his acceptance. 

“You’re still yourself. Even if you didn’t go down the road your parents wanted, you’re still someone we’re proud of. Your parents may have wanted you to become everything they wanted, but you’re becoming everything you wanted and that’s more important.” He says against your hair. 

You stiffen in his hold, not expecting him to say such words. You stay unmoving in his hold, hands hidden in your pockets. It was only now that you feel the cold air biting your legs. 

“You’ve been strong all this years. Their beliefs don’t define you. They won’t hold you back. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to let your walls down. You have us.You don’t have to worry.” He says, faintly singing to your ear. 

They were words you needed to hear, not from your own self but from someone else. You hide your eyes against the curve of his neck and shoulder. You didn’t want him to see you cry, you’ve always been strong in the face of hardships. Yet this difficulty made it hard for you to stand on your own. Hongjoong’s warmth in his actions and words have hit a chord in your heart. His hands thread through your hair, combing through the strands in hopes of calming you down. 

His skin starts to feel wet from your hidden tears. A small part in him finds relief in having you cry it out yet the bigger part of him is concerned with your well-being. He used to wonder: what was worse: quiet tears where your shoulders try so hard to not shake or loud sobs that were brought out deep from your own gut? He got his answer as you cry in his arms. He wonders too if this was how his members feel in circumstances where he nearly breaks. He knows he has an image of a leader to uphold, but being just Kim Hongjoong to his members wasn’t going to harm anyone. 

He doesn’t say anything anymore, as he lets you cry out the struggles you’ve kept to yourself. He doesn’t know how long the both of you were on the rooftop, but the sky was turning from a dark purple to light blue. You’ve calmed down by then, wiping your tears with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Ready to go back?” He asks softly as he lowers himself slightly to look at your downcast face. You quickly try to hide your puffy eyes from him with your hair and the hood but nod at his question, causing him to smile slightly. His arm was around your shoulder this time as he leads the both of you back to your apartment. 

On the way back, your head leans against his shoulder and in response, he lets his head lightly rest atop of your head. He brings you back to your bed, making sure you had a glass of water and painkiller by your bed side for when you wake up.

You’ll be fine, he thought. As long as you had him and the rest of the boys, you’ll be able to grow into someone you can be proud of. 

[damienthepious]

idk idk idk i’m just doing my best

Going Through Changes, Ripping Out Pages (chapter 5)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ao3] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, (uhhhhh sorta), Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (WE WILL GET THERE…… EVENTUALLY)

Summary: Lord Arum wakes to discover that some things have changed while he slept. Namely, there is a human in his bed.

Chapter Summary: Just a moment to breathe together.

Chapter Notes: happy LKT! it's finally not death-grip hot today. i hope you're doing well <3

~

The Keep brings the pair of them to a familiar room, though not one that they would have expected. There are a lot of spaces in the Keep that don't have particular functions, exactly, since Arum isn't keen on categorization or organization, but this room he and Rilla have mostly taken to calling the study. It has a few books (far fewer than the scroll room), a couple soft seats (fewer than the dining room) and a window shaded by a thin, wide-leafed curtain of vines, and as they enter, the Keep drops another set of vines, lifting Rilla's instrument from beside the window and pressing it into her hands.

Rilla stares down, and Damien watches her swallow roughly as her hand wraps around the neck. It's a homemade thing, the same instrument that she engineered during her first stay within these walls, though it has been structurally bolstered and restrung and better tuned and painted with playful florals since that time. Rilla laughs, and it sounds nearly hollow, and the Keep's vines press the instrument more firmly into her grip.

"Keep," she says, her tone uncertain and worried, and the Keep warbles an urgent set of tones, pushing the instrument again before it releases it into her hands. "I'm… I'm not sure if-"

The Keep sings, then. Sings in words, the first line of a familiar song, and Rilla clutches the neck of the instrument tight enough that one of the strings makes a tight high noise against her fingernail.

"Oh," Damien says, catching the Keep's meaning, and it is so strange, he thinks, that such a sound can fill him with such warm memory and such sadness at the same moment. "Oh," he repeats breathlessly. "I see. You believe that he might… if he hears- you think the familiarity of the song, the association between it and us-"

"No. No, that's not going to work," Rilla says firmly, her eyes upturned vaguely in the direction of the Keep.

Damien sighs as the Keep exhales a wilted sort of song, but he can't deny that he agrees with his flower. Rilla winces, though, raising a hand to pat at the air consolingly.

"I mean- Keep, it's a really sweet idea, and the theory that he'll remember the song-" her voice goes strange and wobbly for a moment, and then she inhales and continues, "the theory that it would help him remember isn't without merit. Music has a lot of connection to memory, between repeated patterns of things like rhyme and rhythm and leitmotifs- but- but I don't think he's gonna take it very well if we try to like, perform a little three-creature concert for him, y'know?"

The Keep sings again, tentative but hopeful, and Rilla sighs.

"He'll think we're trying to manipulate him," she says quietly. "Technically, we would be. And- and he won't buy it if he can tell I'm not fully into it. I'm an awful liar- he can always tell if I'm putting on a face, and- and honestly? I just-" she folds her arms over her chest, looking down and to the side. "I just … I really don't feel like singing, right now."

Damien's heart pulls, caught in the tide of Rilla's ill-hidden sorrow. For its part, the Keep sings again, an understanding descent of notes, an obvious concession to Rilla's points.

"Why don't you play, just a little, my love?" Damien's keeps his voice low, and he brushes his hand over hers on the neck of her instrument. "And I will do the singing myself."

"Damien," she says, sounding tired and uncertain. "It isn't going to w-"

"Not," he clarifies, "for the sake of a solution, I mean. Simply for us. You have sung for my own comfort more times than I could possibly count. If it would bring you more distress, you need not play, but at least let me sing for you. Our Keep has made a lovely suggestion, and I should like, I think, to take some small measure of comfort where I can, and share it."

"Oh," Rilla says, blinking, and then she breathes a weak sort of laugh. "Oh, I mean… if you- if you want?"

Damien smiles, and it feels mostly genuine. They still have not come to any solutions, but surprising Rilla is delightful enough to warm him regardless. "I believe you are correct," he says, "that any attempts at artifice will only cause our lily to mistrust our intentions further. Perhaps we should attempt to show him your recordings, next. That seems an appropriate step. But currently, while he is… cooling off, as you put it, I think we should take a moment of our own. Settle our minds, comfort our souls." He squeezes her hand, ducking his head. "Will you let me sing for you?"

"Damien," she says, and her cheeks are dark as her lips tilt into a fond smile. She glances down to her instrument, and then she sighs, and sits, and lifts it to a proper playing position as she meets Damien's again. "I'll play. You can sing, if you really want to. But- but you don't have to sing for me, okay?"

"I know," he says, settling to sit beside her as her fingers dance across the frets, lazily adjusting the tuning. "But surely you know that I want to."

Her smile grows, and she plucks out a few unconnected chords. "Alright, alright," she says, voice warm, and then she bites her lip for a moment as her fingers move, as she strums through a few more experimental notes before she decides on something he can sing along with.

Another folk song, one without quite such a fraught connection to the four of them, this time. A song about warm rains and bolting for shelter, about closeness and laughter, about staying together in the hidden places, even after the storm passes by.

She is always so beautiful when she plays. She laughs, even, when the Keep begins to hum wordlessly along with Damien, and he nearly loses his thread when the combination of her talent and her joy threatens to overwhelm his heart. Eventually, on the final verse, she lets her own voice raise to join theirs, harmonizing until she strums the last chord.

Her smile tilts her lips, and her eyes sparkle between rueful and mischievous.

"Tactical and romantic," she murmurs, and Damien attempts to look innocent. "Okay, okay, I'm actually feeling a little better now. Happy?"

At the admission, Damien's shoulders relax, and he cannot help his own smile. "Absolutely delighted, my flower," he says, and then he leans closer, and Rilla breathes another small laugh as she lifts one hand away from the frets to cup his cheek, to pull him more decisively into the kiss.

Damien freezes when he hears the sharp inhale from the doorway, and he can feel the too-small reserves of comfort and warmth shrink within him. He can feel Rilla's frame stiffen beneath his hands as well, and he forces himself to pull back, to glance aside, to look where he knows he will see-

Arum leans on the doorframe, two hands clinging to the wood, his thin lips parted and his expression confused and open and raw. A moment after Damien looks towards him, though, he snaps his jaw shut again, forcing himself to look nearly blank.

Nearly. Damien knows him too well to be entirely fooled.

"How- how long were you-"

Rilla cuts herself off before she finishes the question, and Arum looks away with a throaty rumble, his tail flicking behind him.

"Long enough to know you were including my Keep in your little moment of bonding, which I do not appreciate in the-"

Arum cuts himself off as well, and Damien wonders for a strange moment if this is a very convoluted attempt at mocking, but the lizard's mouth twists into an uncomfortable line as he visibly struggles through some decision, his hands clenching and unclenching from tense fists as the rattle in his throat grows again.

Arum inhales, glances back behind himself for a moment, and then he seems to shake whatever thoughts he had been grappling, and he narrows his eyes at Rilla.

"You," he says, and Damien can see the way he is layering suspicion over his confusion now. "Rilla. You mentioned the Senate, when discussing how you claim we first came to… to know one another. What do you know of them?"

Rilla bites her lip, confused over this sudden return to interrogation. She furrows her brow as she meets Damien's eye for a moment, and he gives the shadow of a shrug, exactly as unsure about the monster's intent as Rilla herself is.

"Uh, only what you've told me?" she tilts her head, setting her instrument gingerly to the side of their seat and then crossing her arms over her chest as she thinks. "Which honestly isn't all that much. I don't think you really like talking about them? And as far as I know they haven't been much of a factor since the mess at Fort Terminus. They kinda-sorta run the show with the monsters in general, yeah? Mostly because they're powerful enough to just… do what they want, even if it infringes on what other monsters want."

Arum frowns, but despite his clear displeasure he nods. "That is not entirely inaccurate." He pauses, tension in his jaw before he continues, "and you are certain that I am… no longer in communication, then, with these beasts?"

Rilla's eyebrows shoot up, and Damien answers, "You have certainly not mentioned any correspondence, no. May I ask why this is a concern, currently?"

"Do you think they're involved?" Rilla asks, eager, and Arum's snout wrinkles.

"I cannot say for certain," he mutters, and then he bares his teeth uncomfortably, "and if I do not discuss them with you, I do not know how I could find out."

Damien turns that phrasing over in his head, and he is sure that he must have misheard for a moment, because he seems to be implying-

"Wait." Rilla shifts at his side, sitting straighter. "Wait. You're talking like- do you believe us?"

Arum stares at her for a moment, brow furrowed, and then he blinks quickly, hissing sharp and low.

Damien watches him hunch his shoulders, duck his head, hands flexing, and Damien does not know if his heart should swell or plummet. Arum did not even realize his own implication.

"I-" the monster stammers. "That is not-" he shakes his head, his frill fluttering with distress. "I do not-"

Damien stands, and Rilla stands a moment after, her hand at his elbow.

"Arum," Damien tries, and the monster snaps his jaw shut, glaring between the both of them for a long moment.

"… I do not know what to believe," he says slowly, eventually, and then he drops his eyes. "So … so perhaps you should continue attempting to prove your point. If- if you are so terribly certain that you are correct, if you believe you have some so-called evidence that may be so utterly compelling…" he trails off, exhales a slow sigh, and then gestures with a hand, prompting the Keep to form a doorway at his back. "I may have found some evidence of my own. Come. Convince me, and perhaps I will show you what I've found."

[->]

[tartareus]

Do you condone/ship incest? I was reading your rules and got confused about your sentence where you said if people are uncomfortable with fictional consensual incest this isn’t the blog for you. Except Incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction

hi there, friend, how do you do?

while i'm not particularly fond of anons (nex time you'd like to discuss something regarding my rules and/or character portrayal, i strongly encourage you to do so via ims - i don't bite, and if our points of view don't quite match? that's alright, i promise i'll leave you in peace :) ) for various reasons, i'm so glad you've read my rules (that probably makes you one of the few who follow me - at least i presume you do, idk - who has done so, so thank you so much!), i cannot stress enough how important they are to me. if i happen to follow you, rest assured that i have read yours (unless, ofc, i couldn't find one in your blog - in any case, if i happen to accidentally break one of yours, just hmu or gimme a nudge).

considering that you've asked more than one question, i'll answer to you in separate sections - needless to say that while i break it down your questions, the answer might become a little longer than usual (again, i'm sorry). i'll keep this tagged, in case any of my followers don't feel like reading about this. without further ado, let’s dive in.´

“do you condone/ship incest?”

short answer? nope. but that is not a black or white question i’m afraid. no, i – nox, the human behind this blog of fictional characters – personally do not condone incest , never have and never will, and  don’t ship it. i do, however, ship consanguinamory on rare occasions, and when i do happen to write it i never do it in a good light.

for those who are not familiar with the term, here’s a little bit of info about it x && x. in short, the key difference between them is: incest is usually linked abuse (a fictional example that can be used, taking in consideration one of my very own muses, in this case is margot verger – who was sadly abused by her brother in the hannibal books) while consanguinamory (the lannisters, for example, or even the sharpe siblings from crimson peak are examples of consanguineous relationships) is the consensual romantic and/or sexual relationship between members of the same family who are of consenting age.

[ personally, i find both of them gross as fuuck irl but when it comes to fictional works i may get over this first disgust and ponder more on that && take in consideration the characters arch, plot, thoughts and the whole world they are set in. ]

i suppose the turning point here is the consent. i never, never, condone any sort of abuse – not in fiction and neither in real life – and while it’s a subject that bothers me to no end in real life, when it comes to fiction i am less inclined to project into them. i may write dark and toxic relationships, but i obviously do not condone them. that’s the point here – people on this hellsite usually mix the two together (condoning something and shipping/writing it, that is) when in fact they shouldn’t even be in the same box to begin with.

let’s say you write a fictional serial killer – norman bates, tate langdon, hannibal lecter, catherine tramell (that chick from basic instinct), patrick bateman, mrs lovett and sweeney todd, kai anderson, bellatrix, grindelwald and voldemort (the list of plausible examples could go on forever…) – here and ship with them; does it mean that you, the writer, condone every single action and choice your muse does? if writing something purely fictional equals to condoning it in real life, well… the world is even more fucked up than i first thought.

you see, in this little exercise in imagination, you could’ve easily picked a good guy or gal to write, the hero; the goody two shoes. why didn’t you? well, it’s complicated to pin point why some are drawn to darker works of fiction and characters while others are not, i suppose each individual has their own reasons && i can only speak for myself when i say that i am drawn to these sort of fictional works because they the safest way to explore dark topics that pertain to human society. on my side, it’s nothing but raw curiosity.

there’s also the issue of how different cultures see these relationships. in case you haven’t noticed, i am not from the states but actually from brazil. especially in the rural area, it’s not uncommon for second cousins to date or even marry (ew, i know, pretty gross). that’s something that is luckily falling out of practice, but you can easily find it, more so in the poor rural areas that are really far from the cities.

you may have noticed that most of the sources for the terms come from a blog that advocates real life consanguinamory – but make no mistake, i don’t support it. these were the only places i’ve found as sources in a quick look online. i don’t support it irl, but whatever consenting adults are doing amongst themselves is no concern of mine – i have no say on the matter and all in all, i don’t give a damn. i just don’t like it. everything i’ve discussed here is related to fiction, consent and is only ever related to people of consenting age.

“i was reading your rules and got confused about your sentence where you said if people are uncomfortable with fictional consensual incest this isn’t the blog for you. except incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction”

to be honest with you, anon, i couldn’t possibly see how you’ve got confused with this. i thought i was pretty clear with that, but perhaps not. sorry, my english is not perfect. however, with the risk of sounding like a meme, i said what i said. if you personally feel uncomfortable or even triggered with fictional consensual incest otherwise known as consanguinamory, maybe my blog isn’t for you. not because i – as the mun –  condone it, but because i might mention it or even allude to it when i write certain characters. again, consent is the main thing here – you won’t ever see me writing that awful part of margot’s past, but i might mention it on some threads as it is part of her trauma but i will write jaime’s feelings regarding cersei and joanna’s love for tywin – and that should not be overlooked.

“except incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction” 

so far so good, am i to assume that you also believe that “murder is murder, regardless of if it is fiction or not”? should we call the police on, idk, george rr martin for killing....hell knows how many characters...at this point i’m sure not even he knows. leaving my petty comment aside (it’s the arthritis, i’m always annoyed when in pain), i see where you’re coming from; fair enough.  but you missed a big point here – consensual. i do not write abuse, even to the muses who – in the canon source material – have done so    ( like jaime lannister himself – who’s in a consanguinamorous [therefore, falling under the category of fictional consensual incest] relationship with cersei – who abused his sister next to their son’s dead body [ yeah, jaime apologists, i’m out to get y’all...jokes aside, i do not acknowledge people claiming that cersei manipulated him into going to bed with her, while they are both shitty and toxic as fuck people, their relationship is mutually messed up – gag if you must but jaime lannister is far from innocent angel ] )     in the past. i. don’t. write. it. but i do write jaime’s feelings for cersei because they are canon and are also a big part of the character he became.

all of that, of course, has to do with my own position on the “war” between the people who believe fiction has a great power and influence over reality vs the ones who do not believe in that. personally, i find it hard to believe that fiction is a brainwashing tool rewiring people’s brains  - i find the idea itself ludicrous, the ones who strongly stand for that aren’t that different from flat-earthers and people who believe in reverse racism tbh – but i do acknowledge the influence media has on society. its not nearly enough to turn someone to the “dark side” alone by itself – those who claim that videogames, for example, made them violent most likely already had something different and perhaps wrong with them before the games triggered something. i don’t believe that media creates things on people, but brings buried things (fears, feelings, emotions, hopes) back to the surface. it’s all about the stimulus.

if you wanna be scared, watch an horror movie; if you wanna be happy, a comedy video.  wanna feel warm inside and live unrealistic romantic expectations vicariously through fictional characters? read a 50.000 words slow burn fluffy happy fanfic of your otp at 3 am even though you gotta wake up early in the following morning....

point is, they are not creating things, they are bringing forth responses from you that were already there in your brain (everybody has laughed before and felt fear, it’s part of human development). and how you react to certain content is entirely to you and your past. say, if you drowned as a kid on the sea - and had trauma from that - the idea of watching titanic is not so fun, is it?

it’s not my place to decide what you should do, that is entirely your own choice to make, just be aware that, as i’ve stated before countless times, i may write dark topics that may or may not be triggering to some.  i do so because it is my blog, and i don’t react so harshly to this content (in fact, i love horror, thriller and dark fictional stuff – meanwhile i dread the thought of rom coms, hell knows why??) for i am lucky to be able to separate fiction from reality. basically, whilst writing a villain, i myself do not become one in real life – that part remains in fiction only and doesn’t affect me.

that is not a constant, sure. i don’t just write dark shady stuff – there’s plenty of fluffy shit on my blog, but i like to warn people beforehand to make sure we are all on the same page. it’s for your own comfort, i suppose, because i may not understand certain points of view on fiction but i will always defend your right to be comfortable and safe.

so yes, if you aren’t feeling well at that notion, please unfollow and block me if you must – i never wish to cause any discomfort to anyone – however, before you do so (that is, if you do so) i beg you to just send me an im warning me beforehand, please? that way i can block you – and your other blogs as well – so the chances of me running into you again and causing you discomfort will be minimal. that way we’ll both be on own respective lanes and happy about it. i mass follow very often and don’t usually know which blogs belong to whom (uh, did that make sense? my latina ass is not used to using whom in a sentence....), i may follow another blog (or the revamped blog) of someone who has blocked me and never even realise it – that’s not me following you around and stalking like a total creep, that’s probably me not even remembering who you are. again, sorry – i don’t mean for this to come off rude or anything but???? its the truth? you know the drill, big following list, big followers list (well, big for me tbh, i cannot remember the name or alias of 600 people for the life of me, excuse me if my memory doesn’t serve me right), hard to keep track. there will be no witch hunts, at least on my part, because i deem them to be childish and way too dramatic for my taste. if you’d like to speak in private, adult to adult, i’m always game – i dread vague posting, i personally see it as a pathetic and weak trait. 

as long as you’re civil, so am i.

either way, do whatever makes you feel comfortable and safe on your blog – your  mental health is far more important (to me, and hopefully to you as well) than a hobby, than tumblr, rp or whatever fictional stuff someone’s writing or reading; you are responsible for your own online experience, and i am responsible for mine. that’s an empowering thing that should be reminded more often.

i truly hope i’ve managed to answer whatever doubts or questions you had in mind, if not my ims are always open and so is my discord. once again, thank you for reading my rules and stay safe!

edit; my dumb ass forgot to drop my disco handle, since i change often. it currently is   DOCTOR BITCHCRAFT !!! | 𝒏𝒐𝒙#1398

[satoruvt]

black swan

i wrote a short story for my english class and i felt really proud of it so i’m gonna post it here :-) hope yall like it, i do very much

word count → 2179

summary → “Because you are a sinner,” he spits at me. The ground is suddenly hot with anger and when I look down at my feet I see scorched earth. “And sinners go to Hell.”

warnings → lots of talk about religion, pg-13 ish at the beginning? lol, bro idk shit gets intense

“Go,” Leo tells me. I try to move closer to him, smile playing on my lips as they try to connect with his again, but he pushes me gently. I thread my fingers through his hair, letting the color burn in my mind. I hope it stays like that forever. I can recognize his golden hair anywhere. “Eden, you must leave. Your curfew is almost upon us.”

I huff, feigning annoyance at his denial, as I take my pocket watch out of my coat. As much as I want to stay, Leo’s right - it is almost time for me to depart, and if I’m not home when Mother does her nightly rounds I’ll have chores for the next fortnight. Leo pushes his fingers into my short hair, straightening it back to what it resembled before our encounter. I can’t help but stare at him as he does, and once he catches me he grins, savage and bright.

“Go, my love,” he tells me, taking my hand and placing a kiss to my knuckles. I part with a flushed smile, turning around to my own home. I don’t have to hurry if I don’t wish to; my home is only a few houses down from Leo’s, but I do so anyways, not willing to risk the chance of Mother finding my room empty.

It doesn’t take long for me to get home, nor does it take very long for me to open my room’s only window and haul myself inside, closing it gently behind me. Right as the window clicks shut, a knock on my door resounds, startling me. I grab the nearest thing - a pencil, and, then, an already-drawn-on paper - and pretend that I’ve been in my room for the last hour, drawing away. 

“Eden,” my mother’s voice calls from outside the door. “May I come in?”

Before I have a chance to answer, she’s opening the door and moving into the room gracefully. I barely hear her footsteps as she adjusts to close the door behind her and then move across the room to my bed, sitting on the edge. Mother sends me a specific glance and I put down my props before sitting next to her.

“Has something happened?” I ask.

“Oh, yes,” Mother responds, and her fingers clench into fists on her lap. “Dear Eden, something has happened. Something to do with you.”

I feel my heart sink to my toes, swirl through my bloodstream as if caught in a current. I try not to let my panic show, instead clearing my throat and looking at my mother. “What is it?”

Mother sighs, and when she looks me in the eyes I know that we both know what she could possibly be referencing. “You’re friends with the Wilson’s son down the street, yes?”

Leo.

I nod.

“And you are… just friends with this boy?”

My heart lurches from my feet to my throat and I choke on my own breath, staring at my mother wide-eyed. There’s no way that she knows, right? It can’t be, no. I try to cover up my surprise but it seems I hold it too long, for it’s enough for Mother to let out a broken wail as she falls onto me.

“Oh, my son,” she cries into me. I feel my own tears well to my eyes at the knowledge that she is crying. “What have you done?”

Her words hurt me, an arrow straight into my chest. “Nothing, mama,” I murmur over her quieting sobs. “I’m still me. I’m still your son. Please, mama.”

Mother sits up and tears fall down her cheeks like gentle streams. She doesn’t look hateful, like most - if not everyone - would. Her palm cups my face and I sigh, leaning into her touch.

“I know you are,” she whispers. “I know, and I love you.”

It’s now that I feel my own tears slip down my face - never had I intended to tell her; I only imagined that one day I would leave and live in a place where I could find others like me, and keep up this facade when I came home for visits. I was content with the idea, but this seems so much better. I lean forward and hug Mother, holding her tight in my arms, and she reciprocates my embrace immediately.

“You know that I am no liar,” she tells me when she pulls away. Her hands still rest at my elbows. “And I cannot lie to your father about this.”

My response is immediate. My father is not as forgiving as my mother, and if what she says is true (it always tends to be) then I have no hope to be accepted in my own home. “What should I do?”

“I don’t know,” she answers truthfully. “The best option is for you to not be here when I tell him.”

“And when is that?”

“Tonight, I assume. When he gets home in an hour.”

An hour is not much time. I don’t ask her how long I should be gone, because both of us know the answer. We sit in silence for another moment before I speak again, my hands still gripping her fingers like I did when I was a child. “I suppose I should pack my things.”

Mother nods, but doesn’t let go of my hands until I move away to reach my pack. It isn’t large, but it should be enough to carry a few articles of clothing and a small amount of food. I get packed quickly, and my mother still sits on my bed. We walk to the door in silence, and it’s when she opens it for me that we speak.

“I love you, my son,” she tells me wistfully. “And I am so sorry.”

I know she is, but I tell her it’s alright. I’m not angry at her, nor my father, nor anyone except for myself. I see my father’s horse come into view, him on top of it, and slink into the night, running towards the forest nearby in the dark. In retrospect, I know it isn’t the best decision, but I have nowhere else to go. I don’t stop to say good-bye to Leo, and I don’t stop running until I am deep in the forest. I find a sturdy tree trunk under large bushes, sit down, and sleep restlessly through the night.

When I wake, there is a man standing over me.

He doesn’t flinch when I wake up, opening my eyes to stare at him. He stares back, unphased, and when I move, he moves. He seems fascinated with me. I sit up straight and he takes a few steps back. His hair is dark, and so are his eyes. His skin is beautifully golden, and his face seems like one that never ages. Neither of us speak for a moment until I do.

“What do you want?”

The man smiles and I feel my body tense. It is not a good smile - joyous as a smile could be, but there’s more to it. Something cruel. Something sinister. “Nothing big,” he replies, and I pull my bag out from behind me, confused as to why he hadn’t just taken my things before I woke up. How long had he been looking at me?

“I only have a small sum of food,” I say, taking said items out of my bag, then my spare clothing. “And clothes.”

“Oh, I don’t want any of that,” the man says. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to rob you of your belongings.”

“I see,” my breath rises up in the cold morning air. “Then might I ask who you are and what you do want?”

The man smiles again, but this time it’s worse; wider. He’s a few feet in front of me, and I still see his sharp canines. “We’re going to be the best of friends, you and I,” he tells me. I don’t believe him. “Please, call me Shen, young one. I understand your name is Eden? Yes. ‘Eden and Shen’ - doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

The man - Shen, now - offers his hand towards me to help me up. I gaze at it unsteadily, and for the first time I see him falter. I ask instead, “how do you know my name?”

“It’s a long story,” he answers automatically. “Take a walk with me. I’ll tell you.”

“No… I’ll stay right here,” I say. My blood starts to pump as I make up a lie. “Actually, I have a friend coming to meet me. He should be here soon.”

Shen chuckles. It sends shivers down my spine. “No one is coming for you.”

I could easily have denied it, said that he was wrong - it is my word against his - but I was blessed with my mother’s inability to lie well, and I don’t try to cover up my mistake. Shen, however, seems impatient now. I’m stalling and he knows that I am, but I don’t know for what. No one is coming back, and if I ran back home I know my family would close the door in my face.

“I say we make the long story short.” Shen says. He looks different, but I don’t know how. He’s darker, almost, like the aura surrounding him has fallen into something hellish. “I’m getting impatient, and I am here for one thing, and I will get it through all necessary means. I need your soul.”

His words shock me, and for a moment I think he’s crazy. Completely and utterly insane, someone who thinks he can take mortal souls, but when I let out a humorless laugh, he shows no sign of playing along. He is serious. 

“Why do you need my soul?” I ask. I don’t believe that he’s truthful, but there’s something wrong. I hesitate.

“Because you are a sinner,” he spits at me. The ground is suddenly hot with anger and when I look down at my feet I see scorched earth. “And sinners go to Hell.”

I’m still reeling with the sight in front of me, of red skies and burned trees and charred animals all around me. It smells like heavy smoke and it burns my lungs. The black trees warp around me in a cage, moving like cruel, clawed fingers, and this is too real. Shen must be a witch. His eyes are red, now, when I look at them, and I realize he is not human.

“You ruined yourself with lies and men,” Shen starts to speak. I dodge the trees aiming for me, scrambling to my feet like a scared cat, and as he speaks the earth itself starts to move, shaking under my unsteady legs. “My dear Eden, you were born to be like me, like our Dark Lord.”

“No,” I counter weakly. My voice is barely heard over the rumbling of the ground as it splits in half. “No, I am pure, I am no sinner -”

“How ironic that your name comes from blessed lands yet you yourself are no more than another liar amongst pure men.” Shen’s voice is demonic and wild, and I can’t think of anything to do but cover my ears. It does nothing to stop the sound of his voice from leaking into my head. I feel like I am boiling from the inside out. I did nothing wrong, I did nothing wrong, I did nothing wrong! “I can’t wait to see you rot.”

Before I properly know what I’m doing, I’m grabbing the biggest rock I can carry and running towards Shen with a battle cry on my lips. My heart is restless, but it stops when I see him grin - in the second before the rock meets his head, he looks so cruel, yet so familiar. The same dark hair, but his face is more boyish. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t have time to think before I throw the rock onto his skull with all the strength I can muster.

I blink and the land returns to normal.

It’s green again, covered in lush forestry and a silent mist. My heart is still pounding, but I no longer feel hot. Everything is as it was; did I hallucinate the entire ordeal? I’ve been out in the forest for too long, even if it’s only been one night. The repetitiveness of the trees makes my head ache with the need to leave. I calm my breathing, then turn in my spot to find my pack.

When I turn, there’s something laying on the ground, beneath the foliage. The leaves around it are stained red with blood. I see a hand, then a full arm. There’s a body. 

I move closer, thoroughly concerned, and then I see a rock - the rock I had thrown - off a few feet. Panic shoots through me at the idea that I hurt someone in my crazed frenzy, and then I take a closer look at the face of the man I hurt.

I could recognize his golden hair anywhere.

[hazzasgayvodka]

anon:

omg would you do a one shot of harry and jess? like maybe the first time they have sex? like is it all giggly and awkward cause they were friends or does it feel normal? ugh idk for some reason i feel like they waited a bit like a week and just like made out heaps 

so like the technical answer to this question is that the first time they have sex is a chapter in Impact I just wasn’t comfortable writing smut at the time so I kind of cut it off before shit got too steamy

BUT

the fun answer is yes they waited about a month ish ?? and they were totally giggly and clumsy and just way too infatuated with each other to even breathe

SO HERE YA GO

here’s Harry and Jess’ first time 

if you haven’t read impact (the fic this oneshot is based on) you can read it here

JESS

I push him up against the door to my dorm room and he’s laughing as I fiddle around in my purse for my key card to get the door open. I feel his lips on the hollow of my throat as my jittering fingers sift through my bag over and over searching for the thin square of plastic. As soon as my hand wraps around it I sigh in relief and reach around him to swipe it over the sensor. Immediately my door clicks open and I’m shoving him through it, my lips now firmly reattached to his as I blindly lead him in the direction of my bed.

“Are we uh,” He gulps, briefly pulling away from my lips when his knees hit the back of my bed, “Are we doing this?”

“I mean, if you want to do this.” I say uneasily, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Of course I fucking want to do this.” He huffs out with a shaky laugh, grabbing my hips and pulling me back to him.

“Then yes, we’re doing this.” I giggle, throwing my arms over his shoulders.

“Thank god,” He grins, finally pulling his shirt off over his head and stumbling out of his shoes, “We sure waited long enough, huh?”

“Too long,” I breathe, pushing him back onto the bed behind him and climbing on top of him, “Way too long.”

He’s laughing as I clumsily attempt to straddle him in the small expanse of my twin sized bed. His feet are hanging off ridiculously and he nearly hits me straight in the head when he tries to drag my shirt off me.

“Why did we come here instead of my apartment again?” He chuckles, trying to situate himself with me on top of him.

“Because Nathan is at your apartment right now.” I say matter-of-factly as I undo his belt.

“My door has a lock you know, dollface.” He smirks and I roll my eyes as I slide off him and attempt to tug his pants down.

My movements are rushed and sporadic and he’s laughing as he sits back up and helps me shove them to his ankles along with his socks. I expect him to lay back down and let me climb back on top of him but instead he lays me down against the mattress and reaches for the button on my jeans instead. He drags them down expertly, sucking in a breath when his eyes land on my plain grey underwear.

“I didn’t know we’d be uh,” I stutter, my face suddenly a thousand degrees hotter, “I would have dressed in something a little more-“

“God, shut up,” He chuckles, rolling his eyes as he leans back down to me, capturing my lips with his, “You won’t be dressed in a whole lot of anything in a few minutes.”

He’s got that smug little smirk on his face when he pulls away just after the words have left his mouth and I’m shaking my head as he reaches for the hem of my blouse and tugs it off me. His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his lips and I can physically feel his gaze raking over my chest before he looks back up to meet my eyes, his pupils considerably dilated.

“So fucking beautiful,” He murmurs, ducking down to attach his lips to my neck and I immediately let out a sigh of relief when his hands cup my chest, “God Jess, you are so fucking beautiful, dollface.”

I whimper in response, not trusting my voice as his skilled fingers reach around my back to unclasp my bra. Instantly the straps fall away from my shoulders and he flings it behind him, letting it fall into the heap of our clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Christ,” He wheezes, immediately leaning down and taking my nipple into his mouth.

The hiccupped gasp that gets stuck in my throat at the immediate action makes him stop abruptly, sitting back up and searching my eyes for any indication of what’s wrong.

“What did I do?” He asks worriedly, holding his hands up quickly.

“No, that, keep doing that.” I gasp, desperately reaching for him and he’s chuckling as he leans back down and my hands hungrily thread through his hair.

My back is arching off the tiny mattress when he flicks his tongue just right and his laugher is muffled against my skin as his lips gingerly start making their way further south down my abdomen.

“You’re okay?” He asks.

“Better than okay.” I laugh, sucking in a breath when I feel him hovering just over the last piece of clothing between him and where I need him most.

“May I?” He teases, hooking his finger around the side of my underwear.

“Be my guest.” I giggle, lifting my hips up off the mattress to help him slide the thin fabric off me and positioning myself up on my elbows.

He throws my underwear behind him as well, coming to kneel in front of me and my thighs instinctively threaten to squeeze together before he grabs them, gently nudging them apart again.

“Still alright?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow up at me.

“Mhm.” I hum, not trusting my voice as my thighs quiver just from his solid grip on them.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” He questions further.

“Yes, Harry,” I assure him, “I would tell you.”

He smiles, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree and my heart swells but suddenly he’s crawling back up the bed, leaving my quivering thighs shaking in anticipation.

“Harry, what are you-“

“Shhh,” He smirks, cupping my cheek with that giant grin still on his face, “Just wanna kiss you a little more first.”

I roll my eyes as he leans back down to me, his lips pressing gently against my own, nothing rushed or frantic like our kisses were earlier. He’s taking his time, massaging my lips with his own and when I reach to grab his jaw the way he loves, my stomach is doing somersaults when I can feel it moving fervor, he’s pouring every ounce of himself into this kiss.

He pulls away and a short, pained noise erupts from the back of his throat, as if it hurts being disconnected from me for even a second. He peppers wet kisses back down my chest and stomach, finally looking back up at me from between my legs and making me suck in a sharp breath.

He doesn’t break my gaze as his hand reaches between my legs and his two fingers slide right up my center. I nearly choke on the air around me at the small bit of contact and instantly my thighs are quivering once again. I’m positively begging for him to touch me at this point, my thighs clenching together and unsolicited shudders repeatedly rolling through my entire body.

“Christ, dollface,” He chuckles, “You’re dripping.”

“Are you planning on doing anything about it?” I snap, raising my eyebrows to which he laughs, leaning back down and inserting a callused finger.

I bite the inside of my cheek ridiculously hard, swallowing the shattering moan threatening to escape my parted mouth. I don’t even realize my eyes have squeezed shut until they’re peeling back open again and suddenly, I’m watching him slide his two soaking fingers past his pink swollen lips, his eyes rolling back in his head as soon as my taste touches his tongue.

“So fucking good,” He groans and just the throaty edge to his voice has my breath quickening, “You ever tasted yourself, dollface?”

I shake my head no, swallowing hard as he leans back down, but rather than the delicious feeling of his fingers tracing over me, I’m shocked by the exquisite sensation of his tongue delving into me.

“Fuck, Harry, fuck!” I burst out suddenly, my body threatening to squirm away from him, but he hooks his arms around my thighs and holds me right where he wants me.

His laughter is once again muffled as he chuckles to himself, his dull nails just barely digging into my thighs enough to leave little crescents. My back arches off the bed as he flicks his tongue right over my sensitive bud and I bury my face into the pillow beside me, biting down to keep myself quiet so all my dormmates don’t hear me.

“Hey, look at me,” He speaks up, his perfectly calculated assault coming to a halt, “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

I lean up out of the pillow and the giant grin returns to his face, his lips now soaking and shiny and making my stomach tighten. He reaches for my hand, squeezing it in his and kissing my knuckles the way that I love. I can feel the wetness on his lips and the coil in my stomach winds even tighter, my breath coming out short once again. He starts to lean back down to me again, but I grab his hand tighter, pulling it towards me.

“Come up here.” I say shakily, reaching for his other hand.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his eyes worried as he climbs back  up the bed to me, kissing the back of my other hand this time.

“Nothing,” I sigh, cupping his cheek, “Just wanna kiss you a little more first.” I giggle, mocking his words from before and immediately he presses his lips to mine.

I can taste myself on him, equal parts tangy and sweet and entirely different to anything I’ve felt before. His lips are so swollen I’m worried they might bruise if he keeps kissing me as hard as he is, but I can’t think about that for too long before his hand is releasing my cheek and delving back between my thighs.

“Jesus f-fuck!” I sputter, my body shaking at the immediate overstimulation and his lips work their way down my neck instead while I heave out whimpers and sighs.

“Feel good?” He smirks, clearly knowing the answer but fishing for a compliment nonetheless.

“Shit, so good Harry, so good.” I whimper, my voice breathy and my body writhing and rutting against his hand for more friction.

It’s in that moment that I feel my stomach twist in the most delicious way, and I know that if he doesn’t stop right this second, I’ll be done for. It takes every fiber of my being to tell him to stop and because I don’t trust my voice, I just end up sitting up and pushing him away.

“You okay? What happened?” He asks, immediately pulling away from me.

“Yeah I just,” I gasp, trying to catch my breath, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He laughs, brushing my messy hair out of my face.

“I don’t wanna cum like that,” I explain, reaching for the band of his boxers, “I wanna cum, you know, from you.”

“You’re absolutely adorable, you know that?” He smirks teasingly, leaning back down to me and pecking my lips.

“Oh, shut up, Styles.” I mutter, pushing him down against the mattress and wrestling with the fabric of his boxers.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I struggle getting them over his backside and I hear a faint snort come from him. He’s smiling when I look up at him, his eyes alight with amusement as he watches me finally succeeding in pulling his boxers down past his knees.

“I said shut up.” I scoff, shoving at him but he grabs my arms, pulling me back to him.

“You say a lot of things I don’t listen to,” He smirks, lifting you up and plopping you back down, flat on the mattress, “Now get over here and let me make you feel good, dollface.”

I squeal when my back hits the mattress and he’s immediately on top of me, pinning me underneath him with his hips. My eyes flicker to the gold packet between his fingers and he leans down and kisses me one more time before sitting back up and ripping it open, rolling the condom on over himself.

“You’re sure about this?” He asks, grabbing my thighs and positioning me where he wants me.

I almost want to slap him for asking again. I know he can feel the way my thighs are quivering against him just waiting for him to slide in.

“Yes Harry, god, would you like me to sign a form?” I smirk, reaching up to grab for him and he finally rolls his eyes, leaning down and sliding into me.

Everything in the room is suddenly amplified. The faint moonlight coming through the window is suddenly too bright, his skin is too hot, and the little grunts falling from his parted lips as he fucks into me are echoing in my ears. I let out a needy whimper, my back arching as he finally bottoms out. He’s deep, so deep that I’m sure I can feel him in my stomach, and he’s stretching me, to the point that it almost hurts, but I just feel so fucking full.

“Bleeding hell!” Harry chokes out, dropping down and burying his face into my neck, “Tight, fuck, so fucking tight.”

He’s got his forearms on either side of my head, his eyes squeezed shut as he slows and focuses on not bursting right then and there. He’s breaking off into wheezes and pained groans as he drags himself in and out of me at the tortuous pace, his breath puffing out in short bursts against the sweaty skin of my neck.

“You doing alright there, tiger?” I tease, reaching up to sweep his sweaty hair off his forehead.

“You’re so fucking,” He gulps suddenly, cutting himself off, “Fuck, warm.”

Seeing him already in tatters, his gaping mouth hanging open and his eyebrows furrowed together in absolute ecstasy has the coil in my stomach wound even tighter than before. My hands roam his sweat covered skin as he perfectly rolls his hips against mine, my left leg hooking around his waist to give him better access and suddenly I’m almost there with him.

“Fuck, Harry, close.” I pant, my brain unable to produce a full sentence as it clouds with pleasure.

“Oh, thank god,” He wheezes, “I was worried I was gonna cum before you.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh to which he finally breaks into a smile, looking down to meet my eyes. I could stare at him like this all day; from this amazing angle with his hair framing his face and his eyes glittering, he looks like an absolute Adonis.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grins, finally leaning down and capturing my lips with his.

I can feel him smiling against my mouth as our lips twist together, both of us swallowing the gasps that escape each other’s mouths as we climb to ecstasy together. He continues muttering his affirmations to me, in between kisses with his forehead pressed to mine and our eyes locked together while his movements grow sloppy. His entire body tenses and I feel the muscles in his shoulders tighten beneath my fingertips as he comes undone. The feeling of his release is enough to push me right over the edge with him and he collapses on top of me as my back arches off the mattress, my eyes screwing shut and my hands tugging gently on his hair.

He emits a breathless laugh as he comes back down from his high, rolling off me and struggling to fit on the bed beside me with it being as small as it is.

“That was-“

“Fantastic.” He finishes for me.

I turn over on my side, leaning my head on my hand to look at him and he mirrors my action, raising his eyebrows in anticipation of what I’m going to say.

“Only one thing could have made it better.” I smirk and he’s suddenly looking very surprised.

“Oh, and what’s that, hm?” He quips.

“Pink Floyd.” You chuckle, shoving him over and kissing his forehead.

“Dammit you’re right,” He sighs, “Guess I gotta fuck you one more time, dollface.”

I’m a grinning mess despite the filthy words coming out of his mouth and I find myself throwing my leg over him to straddle his waist once again, surprising even myself.

“You’re not going anywhere until you fuck me at least one more time.” I tease, leaning down to him and before I’ve even pressed my lips to his, he’s flipping us over so he’s on top.

His eyes are wild as they meet mine but not as wild as his crazy lion’s mane of hair framing his face once again. He leans down and quickly pecks my lips, his hand grabbing my jaw to tilt my face up to meet his eyes that way that I love.

“Yes ma’am.”

  What do we think? Is that an acceptable first time oneshot? I absolutely loved writing this if anyone else would like any Impact or Long term booty call oneshots or anything I am SO down