#I saw the prompt and was like thinking about oh the handprint but I just did the 1518 handprint in yesterdays prompt

[wigglebox]

Destiel Pride - Day 6; Profound bond

[renee-writer]

Sisters

For @flashfictionfridayofficial 232 prompt

She hangs the banner with a sigh. The double digits on it break her heart a little. How can ten years have passed since that day? It doesn't seem possible that that was the day her entire life changed.

She hurries off the plane, her cell phone tight in her hand. It rings. “Yes mom. Just got off the plane. Come on, I can't help that, can I?” A quick laugh, “the pilot didn't know you are in labor. I will be there soon. Hold on.” she hurries off towards the taxi stand.

A junior in college, she was shocked beyond words when her mom called to tell her she was pregnant. “I know it is a shock, Lynne. It was to me as well. Thought it was menopause.”

“But, how, mom?” Her mom had chuckled.

“I pray you know at twenty-one.”

“Of course mom, but…”

“A guy from work. He is a good guy.”

“What does he think about the baby?”

“Oh, he is excited. Can't wait.”

Eight months later, he is nowhere to be found. Quit his job within a month of finding out he was going to be a father.

This is why she is heading home to help her mom with her baby sister or brother.

“Ahh. He he!” She breathes out as the birth draws close. Lynne holds her hand.

“You are doing great mom.” The room has a busy air but it is controlled chaos. A nurse brings a layette in and Lynne 's heart thumps. It makes it realer than the hours of labor, has. Her brother or sister is coming.

“Push Miss Kelly. It is time to get this baby delivered.” She grunts and starts to. Lynne places a hand behind her back for a bit of support. “Very good. Just like that.”

Lynn starts to rub her back as her mom pushes the baby out.

The sight of the baby being born will stay with her forever. It is her mom's vagina, after all. More than that though, it is the last normal moment she has with her.

“It is a…”

“Girl!” Lynne announces with excitement.

“Autumn Leigh.” She announces. The midwife goes to hand the baby to her. Lynne smiles at the sight of her new baby sister. At that moment, everything changes.

Her mom turns bone white and seems to sink into the bed.

“Get the cord cut and the baby to the sister. Hang four units of o-. Now, she is crashing!”

The dream becomes a nightmare as the baby is thrust in her arms and they are both moved back. The bloody handprints left on her arms aren't noticed at first.

“What is going on?” She holds the baby without looking at her. Her eyes are glued to her still mom, “Please!” One of the nurses leads her to a seat on the other side of the room.

“She is bleeding heavily. We are going to try to stop it.”

“Try?” She has already returned to the battle. Lynne sits rocking her baby sister, Autumn, against her. Someone had handed her a blanket. She covers the baby with it. .The infant is silent but she feels her heartbeat against hers. They both seemed shocked by the situation. How could such a happy time turn so monstrous in a second?

The medical jargon flies around her. After a few minutes, a nurse tries to take Autumn. “Just to get her weighed and measured. Cleaned up and wrapped. I will bring her right back.”

She reluctantly let her go. The baby grounded her, keeping her sane . Without her, the full horror of the present comes into clear focus. They are using the paddles like she saw in ER. Her mom jumps at every application but doesn't move otherwise. Blood drips off the table onto the floor. It”s drip is what she focuses on. You can't bleed if you are dead. As long as she is.

Autumn lets out a wail and her eyes jerk to her. She is being tightly wrapped, swaddled, she recalls the term as her frantic mind tries to keep up. Is there still a drip? She can't hear over the baby. Eyes dart back to the puddle on the floor. It isn't growing.

“Time of death, 11:01.”

She screams.

The next few minutes are seared in her memory. Autumn is placed back in her arms. She takes her mom's limp hand with her free one.

She says things. The specifics of which she is never able to recall. Seems her brain protects her from recalling saying goodbye.

There is a relentless system put in place after death. At twenty -one, she is completely unaware of it. The hospital ‘s chaplain and a social worker helped her through. The situation is complicated by Autumn.

“Are you keeping her?” She is softly asked.

“Oh,” the baby is an anchor keeping her a float amongst the ocean of grief, “I don't know. That is what mom would want. Not to give her to strangers.”

“There are many couples waiting to adopt. She will go to a good home.” The social worker adds.

“I can provide a good home. I am her sister, her blood.”

“And a senior in college. It is a lot.”

“May I get my mom buried before I have to decide?”

“Of course.”

The life insurance provides for that with enough left to start them on their way, if that is what she chooses.

Sitting in her apartment, the day before their mom's service, she rocks her sister in her arms.

“Autumn Leigh, what am I to do? I can't bear to give you away but, how am I to do this with classes to finish? I love you. Is it selfish to keep you, raising you alone? You are part of her, our mom. You will never know her if I give you up. I can't bear that thought. She gave her life to give you yours. You need to know her.”

The decision is made that easily.

She cradles the newborn in her arms as their mom is laid to rest. The funeral and burial are a blur of rare emotions. People come up to them, touching Autumn’s head, her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“If I can do anything.”

“The baby is a blessing, at least.”

Her apartment is full of food she can't eat. Autumn takes her bottles while her sister loses weight.

A month later.

“This has to stop. I know it has been hard. Agonizing. You can't waste -away. She needs you.” Her best friend, Katie, says. She is cleaning out her refrigerator, tossing untouched food.

“You don't know Katie. Your mom is still alive.”

“Yes,” she sighs, “she is. I am sorry Tina died. I can't imagine how you feel. But, you still live. If you want to kill yourself, give her to someone who can see to her. You owe her not to watch someone else die.”

Her words are harsh but they get through to her. She places her sister in Katie's arms and takes a shower. Then she fixes herself something to eat and forces every bite down. They then take a walk.

It is the beginning of the healing.

A group of friends is organized to watch Autumn while her sister is in classes. Her weeping is done in the bathrooms between them. Then, her face is washed and she gets on with it.

A cursory visit is made by children service. As Lynne is her blood relative and an adult, no issues are found with her being her guardian.

“You may remain her sister and guardian or, you may adopt her and become her legal mom.” she is told.

This decision is harder. Would she be taken away from their mom by becoming hers in fact as well as practice?

“She will always be our mom,” she says softly to her as she takes her bottle. They sit in the rocking chair Tina bought when she found out she was pregnant. Lynne moved it and the other nursery things to her apartment. Her mom’s place was rented to another. It’s rent was out of her price range, “but maybe it will be okay if I am that for you too.”

Autumn meets her eyes and grins around her bottle. Maybe she was simply responding to her voice or maybe it was more. Either way, that grin decided her. The next day, she contacted the social worker and started the process of formally adopting her.

She was thirteen months when the process was completed. She is her mom, officially. It changes things legally but she has been since she was handed to her at the hospital. Diaper changes, feedings, decisions about vaccines, all the major and minor parenting, she is doing anyway.

They grow up together. Lynn wasn't a wild child, no drugs, only social drinking, but, with the responsibility of Autumn, she was made more of an adult. Her twenties are now dedicated to parenting. Out of love for her mom and her sister/ daughter, it is a sacrifice willingly made.

Autumn Leigh ‘s birthday is the first anniversary of their mom's death. That makes it a bittersweet time for her sister. The child is too young to understand her mommy’s tears. She sits on her lap, patting her face, frowning at the wetness there.

“Happy birthday, Autumn Leigh. You are one!” She smiles through her tears.

“Mommy?”

“It is okay. Mommy is just remembering your first mommy. She was my mommy too.” Holding her, she tells her of her birth. She knows she is too young to understand but she is determined that she will know her. A tradition is started. Every birthday, she will tell her the story of her birth and the woman that gave her life.

As she grows older, she understands more. At three, she requests the story of, ‘ mommy Tina's as she refers to her.

“She loved you so much. The last words she said were about you.”

“My name!” She exclaims.

“Exactly. Your beautiful name. Autumn Leigh.”

“Then I became your daughter,” she snuggles up to her, “ your sister-daughter.”

“That's right.” She still feels the tear in her gut and heart that comes with talking about her mom. It isn't as sharp as it was two years ago. Her grief has mellowed into a bittersweetness.

School brings another type of bittersweetness. She is growing so fast. Lynne is proud of her, in the strong and independent girl she is becoming.

“I am all ready!” she bounces up and down with excitement. Open house, a month previous, had introduced them both to her teacher and allowed Lynne to explain the uniqueness of their little family.

“I am Autumn Leigh and my mommy is also my sister.” She explains on her first day of kindergarten to the rest of her class, “my first mommy died the day I was born. It was sad but I don't remember it.”

Her new friends hug her, feeling a child ‘s sympathy for the tragedy none can fully understand.

Now she is ten! It seems incredible to Lynne that she is old enough to be in double digits. The memory of first holding her, imprinted with the tragedy of their mom's passing, makes her growing up seem especially poignant.

“Mom,” she ceased being a mommy several years ago, “tell me about the day I was born.”

Drawing her to her side, she does.

“I was rushing to get to the hospital…”

The end.

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Beautiful* // James March

request: none

prompts: none

warnings: language, insecurities, mentions of acne scars, stretch marks, and feeling overweight, knife play, cunnilingus, smut, bdsm, bondage, spanking, thigh riding, basically extremely kinky sex

a/n: i’ve been really insecure lately so i thought i would write this to try and cheer me up! also the insecurities mentioned in this are based on my own, so i’m sorry if you don’t relate to this!

It wasn’t as bad at first. You could handle your feelings. Hide them away under a mask and pretend that everything was okay. And this worked for a while. You didn’t face them, and in return, they didn’t hurt you.

But slowly your mask began to break.

James never stopped having his dinners with The Countess, even though you’ve been together for almost a year now. And although you knew James loved you, you couldn’t help but feel that he loved her more.

Then you started noticing things about yourself. Little insecurities, which seemed huge in your eyes. The acne scars that littered your face. The stretch marks on your thighs and waist. The way your stomach would pudge out a little more than normal. It started to get so unbearable, that you couldn’t even look in the mirror without wanting to cry.

And finally, James was becoming more distant. In the back of your mind you knew that it was because he was busy. But you couldn’t help but blame yourself. You weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t pretty enough for him. He didn’t love you anymore.

After dealing with these feelings for a while, the mask you hid behind finally broke. The final straw was when you saw James and The Countess together in the lobby. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. You shouldn’t have thought it anymore than James being polite, but you couldn’t stop the sinking feeling you felt seeing them together.

You ran back into the elevator and went to the seventh floor. Once the doors opened you went straight to yours and James shared room, locking the door behind you. You pressed your weight against the door, and slowly slid down, curling up into a ball.

The tears started coming. You couldn’t stop them. Every single thing that made you insecure ran through your head. You didn’t have a mask anymore. Everything you were feeling was out in the open. And it was painful. Part of you wanted to die, but doing that here would be of little help.

Even though crying in a ball was slightly comforting, you were beginning to get a little uncomfortable. The floor isn’t exactly the best place to have a breakdown. So you pulled yourself up and went to the bathroom. You put your hands on the sink and braced yourself. Slowly, you looked up into the mirror.

The sight only made you feel worse. Your acne scars were still visible, but now your eyes were red and puffy. And there were dark purple bags beneath them. The makeup you spent an hour on earlier that day had melted away through your grief, leaving a black splotchy mess.

You grabbed a makeup wipe and quickly ran it across your face. You couldn’t bare to look up in the mirror once more, so you walked back into the room. You slipped your shoes off along with your dress, before searching for one of James’ button ups.

Even though he was partially to blame for your despair, his scent was still comforting to you. You sighed as you walked over to your bed, collapsing onto of the sheets. You grabbed a pillow and hugged it, trying to find some sort of comfort. It didn’t work, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let it go.

Then the door opened. James walked in the room, and headed over to you.

“Darling, what are you doing in bed? It’s the middle of the day.”

You couldn’t answer, since your crying had exhausted you. So you didn’t do anything. You just stayed in your postion, cuddling the pillow.

“Darling?” he asked once more as he walked in front of you.

He crouched down to meet your eyes, and his face fell when he saw you. You didn’t realize it, but you were still crying. He gasped slightly as he gently brushed your tears away.

“Dearest, what’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

Slowly you sat up, letting go of the pillow. You drew your legs into your chest and stared at the ground. James sat next to you and pulled you into a hug.

“Dearest?” he said softly, hoping to get you to speak.

“Do you really love me?” you said softly, too tired to talk any louder.

“Of course I do dearest. How could you think any differently?”

“I- I’m ugly. I have scars everywhere, and I’m no where near as beautiful as Elizabeth. And you obviously still love her, becuase you still have your dinners with her. And you never spend time with me anymore, and I don’t blame you. I’m ugly, and boring, and I don’t deserve you.”

James sat in silence as he though over what you said.

“Is that really how you feel? Becuase I can assure you I don’t love Elizabeth anymore. We only have those to discuss running the hotel. If it really brings you distress I shall stop them. And I’m sorry I’ve been distant, I’ve just been very busy with John. I’ll make more time for you, I promise.”

You took in his words, slowly nodding. But you noticing how he didn’t mention you saying you were ugly. Did he agree with you? Did he think you weren’t beautiful?

As he if read your mind, James spoke once more.

“As for you not feeling beautiful, I don’t know how to respond to that. I don’t think I can accurately put into words just how beautiful you are. So I guess I’ll just have to show you.”

You were about to ask him what he meant, but you didn’t get the chance because his lips were on yours. This kiss wasn’t like the others shared between you. Normally they were hungry, and lustful. But this one felt like pure passion and love.

James gently pushed you back so you were laying down. He climbed on top of you, and slowly trailed kisses down your neck, leaving marks behind.

“Darling you look absolutely ravishing when you wear my clothes,” he said as he slowly began to unbutton the shirt you were wearing.

“But it looks even better on the floor.”

You laughed slightly at him, but fell silent when he pulled out his knife. Your pussy instantly got wet as he smirked above you, before gently running his blade over your skin.

“Don’t move dearest.”

He pushed down slightly and cut your bra and panties off, throwing the scarps of fabric aside. You shivered slightly as the cool air hit your damp pussy. James sat back and admired you. His gaze looked as though he was starving, and you were his favorite meal.

“I promise you that by the end of this, you’re going to realize just how beautiful you are.”

You nodded at his words. You watched as he moved himself in between your legs. He was so close that you could feel his breath against your heat. James started to kiss your thighs, leaving love bites all over your stretch marks.

“How could you not love these? They’re beautiful!”

You moaned softly as he bit down on the flesh of your leg. He pressed a gentle kiss over the bite marks and then turned his attention to your aching core.

He licked a stripe up your slit, causing you to moan. You reached down and lightly tugged as his hair. He groaned against you, and you shivered at the vibrations.

James continued to devour your pussy, causing you to shake under his touch. You couldn’t stop the moans that left your mouth. His tongue worked its way between your folds, causing immense pleasure to wash over you.

“Fuck James. That feels so good,” you said breathlessly.

Then he moved to suck on your clit, replacing his mouth with his fingers. He thrust two of them inside of you, pressing them lightly against the spot that drove you wild. A loud moan left your mouth at the contact.

“Oh fuck, Mr. March,” you moaned out.

James growled at the name, biting your clit. You squealed slightly in between your moans. You could feel him smirk against you. Your impending orgasm was beginning to build up. You could feel yourself getting closer with every thrust of his fingers.

“Mr. March, I- I’m gonna cum.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, James pulled away. You whined as you met his eyes, pouting slightly.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked innocently.

“You have doubted my love for you. And therefore you must be punished,” he said staring down at you.

The look he gave you was enough to make you cum on the spot. But you held it back for fear of being punished more. So instead you nodded, feeling excitement build up as your mind wondered what was in store for you.

You didn’t have long to wonder though, because soon you were being pulled onto his lap. The rough material of his clothes brushing against your bare skin made you moan softly. You knew was about to happen, and the excitement within you was building.

“You know what happens to naughty little girls, don’t you?” James asked as he gently rubbed his hand against your bare ass.

You nodded and then felt a sharp sting on your behind.

“Use your words darling,” he said in a warning tone.

“Yes Mr. March,” you answered.

“I think you deserve ten, does that seem fitting to you?”

Even though he was asking you, your answer didn’t matter. He would do whatever he seemed fit. He loved playing with you, and your opinion was not going to stop him.

“Yes, Mr. March.”

“I want you to count for me. If you mess up, we start over. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mr. March,” you responded once more.

Then you felt his hand come down on your ass, hard. You moaned slightly and forced your mind to focus.

“One.”

James continued slapping you, and you continued counting. By the end you were a tearful mess. His handprints littered your ass, and James smiled as you winced under his touch.

“You’ve been so good for me little girl. I think you deserve a reward. Would you like to cum?”

“Yes Mr. March,” you choked out through your tears.

James picked you up once more and straddled you over his legs. The coarse material against your bare pussy made you moan. You looked up at James and melted under the hunger in his gaze.

“Ride my leg,” he commanded.

You instantly complied, putting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You began to move your hips back and forth against his leg. You couldn’t stop the moans that left your mouth. The way he was making you feel, was better than anything you’ve felt in a long time, and he wasn’t even doing anything to you.

“You look so beautiful like that darling. I just don’t see how you could ever doubt your beauty.”

You fell apart at his words, getting closer and closer to your edge.

“That’s it darling, cum for me.”

“Ohhh fuck, Mr. March,” you mumbled out as your orgasm washed over you.

You cling to James tightly as you rode out your high, a sense of euphoria hanging in the air. You sighed and collapsed your weight onto him. James gently wrapped his arms around you, and helped you lay down next to him.

When you heard his belt unbuckle, your head perked up as you looked over at him. James only smiled as he brought the belt over towards you. You knew what he wanted so you put your wrists against the headboard above you.

“Good girl,” he praised as he bound you to the bed.

You watched as James shed the rest of his clothing. You pussy already dripping once more. James felt your eyes on him and looked up to find you staring. He only smirked as he climbed on top of you.

“You’ve been so good for me darling. It’s only fitting that I give you what you want.”

In your post orgasmic bliss you couldn’t do much more than nod at his words. James reached between your legs and swiped a finger through your heat.

“You’re already soaked again. You must really want me.”

James lined his cock up with your pussy and pushed in, bottoming out completely. You let out a moan at the feeling, and winced only slightly due to overstimulation.

But he didn’t give you anytime to adjust. He began rapidly thrusting into you, looking deeply into your eyes. Your eyes met his and you could feel the love pouring out of them. You went to pull him closer to you, but couldn’t due to your restraints.

“I wanna touch you,” you begged as you tried to reach towards him.

“Hmm, I don’t know if you deserve it,” he said, teasing you.

You moaned once more as he began to thrust against your g-spot. One of his hands trailed down your body and began to rub circles onto your clit.

“Please. Please Mr. March, let me touch you. Please,” you said before another moan came out of your mouth.

Giving in to you, James undid the belt, and your hands instantly went to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to get as close to him as you could.

Then you felt it once more. The knot building in your stomach. You were about to cum once more. Your moans increased as you neared your edge.

“James. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me dearest. You deserve it.”

At his command, you let go, covering his cock in your juices. A few moments later, James grunted as he spilled his seed inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, before pulling out, and laying down next to you. You felt a mixture of yours and his cum drip down your legs, covering the inside of your thighs.

He went to get up to grab you a towel to clean up with, but you grabbed his wrist.

“Stay with me, please.”

“I’ll be back in just a moment darling. You’re going to be quite sticky if I don’t clean you up.”

You sleepily nodded and let go off him. James returned moments later, and wiped the cum off of your legs. He then tossed the towel aside and laid down next to you once more. You snuggled into him, breathing in his scent, and allowing yourself to relax.

“Darling, I truly am sorry for my absence as of late. I promise you I will make more time for you, no matter the cost. And I really hope you do realize just how beautiful you are.”

James was concerned when you didn’t answer, but immediately relaxed after he looked down. You were fast asleep in his arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head, and allowed himself to fall asleep next to you.

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Halloween Oreos (Michael Myers x Reader)

Original Ask: How about some snack time with Micheal uwu sharing Halloween oreos with his s/o or someone me whose getting close to him. Perhaps they buy him some huehue

_____________

Haddonfield had become a rather quiet place following the Halloween murders, the following years becoming somewhat grim.

Halloween was no longer the same, or at least it was something that made the residents of Haddonfield tense up. Even after thirteen years, people were sometimes too afraid to speak the Boogeyman’s name. At least, people finally came out of their homes, as if the plague was already over with. After thirteen years, one could have said that the Boogeyman was no more.

October had finally come around, and this year Haddonfield was gifted with a veil of fresh white snow on just the third day of the month.

You grunted as you fixed the plastic bags in your hands, the mittens you wore making it somewhat difficult to properly hold them.Today was the day to go out for groceries, a task you only did every now and then due to your current living condition.

“Need help there?” you heard a voice behind you, prompting you to turn and see the cashier that had rung you up in the grocery store.

“Oh! Ah,” you gave a nervous chuckle as you once again fixed the plastic bags. “I-I can bear, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind lending a hand, especially in this weather.”

“It’s alright.” you insisted, especially after a chill ran down your back, your eyes glancing around as an uneasy feeling came over you. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I just need to get going right now. Somebody’s waiting for me.”

“Ah, I see.” he nodded, taking a step back as you sighed in relief. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Thank you, have a nice day.” you nodded as well, not bothering to watch him leave as you knew the consequences of such things.

As you headed to your car, you took notice of a news crew that had stationed itself across the road, right at a sidewalk that led to another array of stores. The crew was specifically focused on a hardware store that had its glass windows broken, even the farthest eye could see the bloody handprints that were splattered on the walls inside as well as other blood prints.

You shivered at the thought of what had gone down inside, instead focusing on the trunk of your car before loading everything inside. Not paying much attention to the camera crew, or at least not wanting to do so, you hopped into your car to drive out of town. But not before taking a good look at your surroundings, on edge about the eyes that were possibly watching your every move.

_____________

Home was a rather lengthy ride, no more than an hour’s time thankfully, but the searching for it was what made up for that isolation you required. Considering the situation you lived in, your partially preferred living arrangements lie in the woods outside of town, where things were calm and quiet.

Hopping out of your car, you felt as the snow began to fall once again. This meant that in the morning, the veil would be much thicker and there was no going out, especially as your small home was situated in a deep part of the woods.

Hearing your boots with every step, you unloaded the groceries which would definitely be taking more than one go. You made your way towards the cabin in front of you, coming to stop after walking onto the porch as your eyes caught crimson.

Right on the wood were boot prints, every single one as red as the blood from the hardware store.

Your eyes followed the trail that led to the door itself, and you took notice of it being ajar.

Dropping the bags onto the porch, you placed a hand on the door to cautiously take a step inside. The creak of the door was enough to have you jump back the slightest bit, especially as your eyes continued to examine the trail of blood that led into the kitchen.

Now, you knew not to act like a girl in a horror movie but…

“Hello?” you called out into the emptiness of your home, holding your keys close to either fight with them or immediately flee to the car. “Is that you-”

Soon enough your scream pierced the air as you jumped off the ground, this due to feeling a rough hand clasp onto your shoulder from behind.

Once you had turned around, you groaned at the sight of an older man that stared down at you with dead eyes.

“Michael!” you yelled at him, then fixing your jacket which had slightly crumpled up at the shoulder where you had been grabbed. “I thought you were someone else.”

The man before you in no way flinched, not even bothering to blink as he continued to watch your every move.

“You leave in the middle of the night without a word and leave me alone all day.” you mentioned before passing by him, knowing that he turned his entire body to always be facing you. “Well now that you’re done with scaring the hell out of me, I’m done with the groceries. Won’t need to go out until January I think. I hope so, since it’s starting to get pretty cold out.”

Michael Myers, the Shape or Boogeyman of Haddonfield, stood right at your door with not a care in the world. If anything, your door to your house, was his door to his house. It had been this way for quite awhile now.

A few years actually.

It was surprising that he was not wearing his mask, his blue and clouded eye completely fixated on your figure as you grabbed the bags right at the entrance.

Once you had grabbed the bags at the door and then the remaining ones in the car, you shut and locked the door before being followed by Michael into the kitchen.

After he had spared you years back, Michael had come to act like a cat. Always with his nose on the lookout for what it is you would be feeding him. Hilariously, that was just how Michael reluctantly came into your life.

“I haven’t prepared anything since I’ve been out most of the day.” you admitted, ever so quietly laughing at the soft groan that rumble in Michael’s throat. “I did find some sweet goodies at the market though. Especially at WalMart.”

Michael didn’t always understand the things you talked about, but he was always listening. Always watching. Learning.

“They have these new cookies for the season. The orange looks kind of funny, but I’m pretty sure they taste the same as the originals.” you mentioned as you set the groceries on the counter, looking through the bags as you began to put everything in its place. “I also got you some stuff to shave off that scruff.”

Michael’s eyes darted down in an attempt to look at his chin, instead seeing you hand placed under it as you softly rubbed your thumb on it.

“Though I have to admit that it’s starting to grow on me.” you smiled before making your way back to the groceries. “Just like the greys in your hair.”

It really had been a few years since you had met Michael, a relationship forming after a pretty good while. He was in his mid-twenties, practically a middle-aged man now who hadn’t been found by the authorities this entire time thanks to you.

As you began to prepare a hot beverage for yourself, and Michael who you knew would ignore it but drink it behind your back, you knew that Michael was watching you intently. His eyes were glued on your hands that grabbed a pumpkin you had purchased. Somehow, he had not even realized the large vegetable as you brought it in.

“Found a recipe you might like, especially for the cold.” you spoke before grabbing a kitchen knife, one that piqued Michale’s interest but was not enough to have him snatching it away due to its size. “Especially with all the pumpkins that are out now.”

To his dissatisfaction, you set the knife down besides the pumpkin on the counter before facing him.

“But before I make that, I’m gonna go change. These clothes are starting to make me feel stuffy.” you removed your jacket as you walked around the counter and out the kitchen, for once not being followed by Michael who was now focused on the knife you had left behind.

Knowing that you would be too focused on finding one of his shirts to wear, he approached the counter to take hold of the knife, bringing it to his face to admire how it shone under the kitchen light. He first held it pointing upwards, but changed it so that he was instead gripping it with the blade pointing down. His head craned to the vegetable beside him, and instinct got the best of him.

“I see you got started with the pumpkin.” he heard your voice, turning around after having jabbed the knife down into the pumpkin which had more than a simple wound.

Michael grabbed the knife once again to pull it out, his entire body facing you once again as he tilted his head at your figure.

Your eyes fell to the knife that contained a bit of pumpkin residue, even a seed or two managed to slip out due to Michael’s brute strength. Now your eyes were on his blank features, and you couldn’t help but give him a smirk.

_____________

It wasn’t often that you lit the fireplace as to avoid any attention from outsiders, especially authorities who had honestly given up on the search for Michael despite his former psychiatrist’s demands, but you believed that tonight was just the night for a warm fire.

Despite the cold weather, you only wore one of Michael’s shirts with socks, perhaps a little something on your bottom. You figured that there wasn’t an entire need for covering yourself when Michael was your human blanket, and one that refused to come off you.

With all of the day’s work done, you sat on the couch, or more like Michael’s lap as he sat on the couch. Your legs were crossed as your torso was constricted by Michael’s strong arms, his chin casually laying on top of your head as you ate the last of your pumpkin soup.

Both pairs of eyes stared up ahead, almost next to the fireplace where your TV screen was placed. You were both watching the moving pictures, or at least Michael resumed that when you made comments about the movie.

“That’s so cheesy, no girl would scream and faint on the spot if she saw a monster.” you ever so slightly shook your head, Michael’s chin too heavy to actually complete the motion. “At least, nowadays. However, that looked like that one scene from the latest Child’s Play movie where the guy has a heart attack.”

It was an old monster movie kind of night, your mood demanding it and Michael no doubt being curious. Frankenstein actually seemed to catch his attention.

The man’s eyes glanced down at you as he saw your arms stretch out with your empty bowl, attempting to put it on the coffee table in front of the couch. This of course was quite impossible with Michael holding you back, his grip on you only becoming tighter as you were managing to barely escape his grasp.

“Michael!” you groaned, pulling your head forwards until his arms made a ring around your hips after you were able to snake the top part of your body out.

As you reached out to set the bowl down, you felt Michael bury his face right into your back before rubbing himself all over and taking in your scent simultaneously.

“I just want to put the damn bowl down.” you wheezed, eventually releasing a sigh of relief when your glass bowl safely landed on the table. But it made you also pleased to have grabbed the plate you had prepared along with the bowls of soup, making sure it or its contents didn’t slip out of your hands as you adjusted your body to the former position.

Michael gave a grunt as he placed his chin on your head again, this time making sure that you had no way of escaping him.

“You wanna try one, Michael?” you lifted the plate just a bit, having Michael peer down at the plate that contained black little circles that smelled weirdly to him. “They’re the newest Oreos. The cookies I mentioned earlier.”

You placed the plate on your lap, wishing that that was enough to hold them up while you took one of the cookies and offered it up to Michael.

“I don’t have any milk right now because you’re not gonna let me get any, so take it like this.

Michael squinted at the cookie, the orange filling enough to have him blinking at least once. In this state of his, you were able to break free and spin your body in place so that your legs were no longer crossed but instead on either side of Michaels’ waist. The plate of cookies was safely put on the empty space of the couch so that nothing could fall.

Having a mind of their own, Michael’s hands wrapped themselves around you as he once again stared at the cookie.

“It’s just a cookie Michael.” you giggled, lowering it before taking a bite out of it yourself.

Michael’s eyes landed on your lips, watching the way they moved as you chewed the cookie piece. Tiny black crumbs adorned your lips, every now and then shifting the more you chewed.

You watched him as well, finding it how funny his curiosity was. So, you popped in the remainder of your cookie before eating it as well, now feeling one of Michael’s arms leave your waist.

Instead, his fingers brushed against the warmth of your skin as his nails carefully scraped your cheeks. The tips of his fingers now coming close to your lips, his index finger actually on your bottom lip before it pulled it down and open.

“Michael,” you breathed out, knowing that Michael was merely observing the crumbs left on your lips.

Blinking up at Michael, you saw as he brought his face down to yours. His lips now dangerously close to yours as he continued to play with your bottom lip, making your breath hitch as he neared more and more.

Soon enough you closed your eyes when Michael closed the gasp, but not with his lips but his tongue.

Your eyes shot open as you felt his tongue lick the corner of your lip, continuing onto your lips themselves. You placed your hands on his shoulders, gripping onto them as you felt his own twist around the shirt you wore.

Your lips had already been parted from the shock of Michael’s actions, that good enough for Michael to slip in his tongue to get a taste of your mouth.

He didn’t care about your nails digging into his shoulders but in fact enjoyed it, pressing your chest against his as his tongue continued to explore your cavern, tasting every bit he could. But before you could follow along with his treatment, Michael retreated himself and looked down at you with half-lidded eyes that matched yours. Well, his didn’t have as much emotion as yours for he was difficult to faze of course.

“Michael?” you sighed at him, thoughts clouded with what just happened. You were then snapped out of it when Michael let go of you with one hand, reaching to the side where the plate of cookies was.

He had grabbed another one, bringing up in between your faces and leaving it there for just a moment. Soon after, he brought it to your lips, scraping it against them before slowly slipping it in so that you could take a bite.

As you chewed the cookie, Michael took the other piece into his mouth, leaving the two of you with crumbs on each of your lips.

His tongue slid out once again, licking the crumbs off of his lips before you got the memo.

The flush on your cheeks was more than enough to warm you up on this chilly October night.

[princessfbi]

I love all these prompts so much. May I request 26. kissing the top of their head, maybe with some whump/recovery?

26. Kissing the top of their head with some whump/recovery you got it!

Someone put something in his drink. Someone put something in his fucking drink.

The breath that Eddie pushed out through his nose might as well have been steam. His blood was boiling as he stormed through the winding halls of the hospital with one singular focus in mind: get to Buck.

Get to Buck because someone had put something in his fucking drink and now he was in the hospital.

The fury that started the moment he hung up the phone and grabbed his keys had festered with every second Buck wasn't in his sights but Eddie knew he needed to rein it in. Even if he was so pissed off he could scream, Eddie knew he had to pull it together because the way Taylor described it on the phone... He needed to save it. It wouldn't help Buck. It wouldn't help anyone.

They'd met up for a drink, Buck and Taylor, and it was good for Buck to have a friend that wasn't necessarily a part of the team. Someone he could talk to that didn't always have to be the neutral party. Eddie got it. He was happy for Buck. Happy that he was opening up to someone else that wasn't wrapped up in their world. Eddie knew, from personal experience, how hard it was for Buck to make friends. Eddie just wasn't so sure on Taylor at first.

Buck and Eddie were still trying to figure what a them meant. It was slow going but they were going on their own time. While not many people knew-- and Eddie didn't think Taylor did-- she still knew enough to call Eddie while Buck was out of his mind on whatever it was that he'd been slipped. She still knew that of all the people Buck would want, it would be Eddie.

Taylor might not be his favorite person but she had called him and for that he couldn't be more grateful if he tried.

Eddie forced himself to unclench and turned the corner where Buck's room was. He spotted Taylor's gleaming red hair as she did a pace in a room to check out the door. He knew the moment she spotted him. Relief washed over the tension in her face and she said something over her shoulder.

"Hey," Taylor said, sounding awkward and stretched thin as Eddie approached. "He's starting to sober up."

Eddie appreciated the update, he did, but he needed to see Buck. He gave her one clipped nod and turned into the room where Buck had been admitted.

He stopped and felt almost all his resolve slip to the floor at the sight.

Buck looked... so small on the bed. Small and too big at the same time with his legs curled up to his chest and his arms wrapped tight around his knees. The first bruise he saw was the handprint around his wrist and then another on his jaw where he'd landed face first on the bar top before he fell. Buck's blue eyes were red rimmed with heavy shadows beneath where they were sunken into his skull. His hair was wild and curled as if he'd run his fingers through the strands over and over again like he did when he was stressed out.

The cut that disappeared into his hairline from when he hit the floor was still weeping blood but had been pinched together by three butterfly closures.

Buck flinched at the sound of Eddie's footsteps and it ricocheted right into Eddie's heart.

"Buck," Eddie breathed out.

Buck's gaze jerked up at Eddie and his expression, animated through the drugs still in his system, was like a flip book of emotions. Shock, relief, fear, and then sorrow. So much sorrow.

"Eddie..." Buck croaked as his face shuddered into a cry. "Eddie, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I-I-I..."

Eddie crossed the room in two steps, mindful of the IV that was in his hand flushing Buck's system, and took Buck into his arms before he could even finish that sentence. Eddie pressed his lips into the crown of Buck's head and kissed him through all of Buck's trembling, stuttered apologies.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Buck. It's okay. I'm here."

He held Buck through the worst of his comedown, through all the sobbing nonsensical sentences, and kept pressing kiss after kiss into the crown of his head until he'd calmed down.

"You're here. How are you here?" Buck asked, his voice pitchy in his confusion as he clung onto Eddie.

"I called him, Buck. Remember?" Taylor said, sounding like it wasn't the first time she'd repeated herself that night.

"Oh," Buck said, small and quiet. "You okay?"

That part was directed at Taylor and Eddie swung his gaze to take her in because she hadn't said anything about being hurt. Taylor's smile was small too but wiry and just on the edge of bitter that she was desperately trying to swallow back.

"I'm fine." Taylor rolled her eyes, playing off like Eddie couldn't see just how shaken she was too. "The guy that did this thought he could get away with the whole 'I'm his date. Back off' thing and pushed me when I wouldn't let him pick Buck up off the floor."

Eddie felt the rage in his chest flare up again and did everything he could to stamp it down. He'd seen Buck in a lot of close calls. Hell, he'd been with Buck during a lot of those close calls.

But nothing felt as close as this.

"Thank you," Eddie said and meant it.

Something fierce crossed Taylor's expression like a spark of flint being struck with a stone.

"Any time," she promised and Eddie knew that she meant it too.

Eddie felt more tears dampen his skin and he pressed another kiss against Buck's head to remind him that he was still there. Buck sighed at the kiss and melted against Eddie.

"Eddie," Buck mumbled. "I-I don't feel good."

"I know, Buck. I know."

"Thanks for coming," Buck whispered and Eddie nuzzled into his hair as he held him tighter.

"Always."

[wanderinginksplot]

Hi! Coul you do a Hunter x Jedi FemReader fluff. Myybe They are reunited after a long time and they hang out in secret.

Hey! It took a few days, but here’s where this prompt took me:

Hunter + Jedi F!Reader + Fluff

“Steady!”

“Watch the far side - it’s tipping!”

“We need another few troopers over here to help balance it!”

“It’s too heavy!”

“Stop, men,” you ordered, your calm voice cutting through the clamor with ease. “Let me get it.”

Lifting the heavy crate with the Force was simple, one of the first things you had learned to do in the Temple. From there, transporting it to the correct section of the hangar wasn’t any more difficult, and you accomplished the task with ease.

“Still showing off, General?” a rough voice asked from just behind your ear.

You turned around, already smiling at the familiar face. “Sergeant Hunter,” you greeted. “I had no idea you were on-planet.”

He shrugged, the movement flowing with grace that would have made even a Jedi jealous. “We picked up a new member for the Batch. We needed to have him cleared on Coruscant before we could risk taking him into action.”

“And?” you asked, already thinking about how you could help. Force-healing wasn’t your strong suit, but you could pull a few strings to get the right padawan to the GAR headquarters. If Hunter needed something, you would do everything in your power to get it for him. He had saved your life often enough to deserve that dedication from you.

“And he’ll be fine,” Hunter reassured you. Gesturing to the flurry of men working to unload your gunships - each one painted with a flattering caricature of your profile with a lightsaber held out in front of you - he asked, “How did the mission go?”

You shrugged. “It went as well as can be expected, I suppose.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means- Well, it…” you sighed. “This war never seems to have a true victory. There are always losses, and those sacrifices don’t always make sense given what little is accomplished in return.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “That’s what we’re made for. Sacrificing.”

You hated hearing that, no matter how often it had been repeated by the Kaminoans, the GAR, and the Jedi Council. These men weren’t a product and their lives weren’t something they should expect to lose simply because they had been created rather than born. They had names and personalities, painted their armor with patterns in your favorite color, and some troopers even asked for permission to use your handprint in their designs. Hunter’s casual defense of what you saw as the fatal flaw of the Jedi Order made your stomach lurch and your spirits drop.

“So they keep telling me,” you agreed, mustering a smile for Hunter. “It was a pleasure seeing you, Sergeant. It has been far too long.”

"Wait," Hunter called and you paused in turning away. "What did I say?"

His earnest question only served to make you feel worse. "Nothing, Hunter. The problem seems to be with me. I just need some time away from the war, the loss."

Hunter's eyes cut a neat contrast against the darkness of his tattoo. "I can't help much, but how about some time spent with an old friend?"

"I have to go make my report to the Council," you hedged.

"After that, then," Hunter suggested. "I'm not gonna twist your arm about it, but you're the one who said it's been too long since we saw each other."

You gave a small smile at that. "That's true. Meet me at Dex's Diner tonight?"

"Comm me when you're leaving the Temple," Hunter instructed, giving a respectful nod as the two of you parted. 

As soon as you had finished with your report and washed the grime of a long mission from your skin, you contacted Hunter and started your journey to Dex’s Diner. The small restaurant had been a Coruscant staple for years, but it had recently seen a huge surge in business. Not only did Dex make fantastic food, but he served meals to anyone who wanted to buy them. The Besalisk had a firm open-door policy, especially where clone troopers were concerned. Off-duty clone troopers were a common sight in the diner, laughing and mingling with Coruscanti civilians.

Hunter was already inside, having secured a booth tucked away in the corner. While clone troopers were far from rare at Dex’s Diner, Jedi were seen less often, especially since the war had begun.

Still, you slid into the booth across from Hunter and gave your usual order to the serving droid. Surreptitiously, you input your credit information as well, paying for the entire meal before it had the chance to deliver a total.

“What is that smile?” Hunter asked, offering one of his own.

“Nothing,” you said, waving off his question. “So, what have you and Clone Force 99 been up to since I saw you last?”

Hunter blew out a breath. “It’s been - what? A year since we saw you?”

“Yes, nearly that,” you agreed, trying to keep the edge of sadness from your voice. Early in the war, you had been on a series of missions with the Bad Batch and had planned to keep working with them, but a member of the Jedi Council had sensed your attachment when you returned planetside. You had been reassigned and ordered to cut ties with the enhanced troopers before the attachment grew stronger.

You had reluctantly done as you were told, but saying goodbye to Clone Force 99 had been difficult. In retrospect, that was likely a good sign that you were indeed getting attached to these troopers. However, that hadn’t stopped you from meeting Hunter today, the first time you had ran into him since following that order. It was with a surge of guilt that you realized you had taken care not to let any other occupants of the Temple see you leave. You hadn’t wanted them to ask where you were going…

“Hey,” Hunter said sharply, drawing your attention back to him. “Where did you go?”

“Nowhere in particular,” you excused yourself. “I’m sorry, I missed what you said.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hunter told you. “I just sat here and watched you get lost in your own head. Stay out of there. After all, I don’t get to see you every day.”

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “How have things been going for you out there?”

Hunter shrugged. “Pretty well. We haven’t found another Jedi who works with us as well as you did, but the few we’ve been assigned to have been competent.”

From Hunter, that was high praise indeed. “And who have you been assigned to?”

“Well…” he mused, “We did a few missions with General Unduli and you know we usually work with Commander Cody and General Kenobi. We did just finish a mission with General Skywalker, though.”

“And how did that go?” you asked, smiling at the thought of the GAR’s most unorthodox squad working with the Jedi Order’s most unorthodox Knight.

Hunter rolled his eyes dramatically and launched into the story of rescuing one of Skywalker’s troopers who had been captured by the Separatists. It was horrifying to think of one of the Republic’s soldiers in enemy captivity for so long, but Hunter nearly had your sides splitting when he talked about Captain Rex brawling with Crosshair, Tech leaping onto the back of some winged creature, and Wrecker demolishing an entire Separatist fleet.

“I bet Wrecker was thrilled!” you said to the last point, still laughing.

“He was, of course,” Hunter agreed, sending a soft smile your way. “He’ll forever be looking for ways to top that mission, so I guess I have Skywalker to thank for that.”

“Oh, I needed this,” you sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.

“Want to talk about it?” Hunter asked. “I get the feeling you haven’t been happy about much lately.”

“Oh-” you stammered, his insight stunning you for a moment. “I don’t know if there’s any particular reason…” 

“If you had to think of one, then,” Hunter suggested. 

You blew out a thoughtful breath, trying to gather a year’s worth of abstract thoughts and quickly stifled smiles into a cohesive summary. “It’s… hm. It doesn’t feel… right, to laugh and joke when soldiers like you and your brothers are working so hard and so seriously to win battles. It seems- seems almost like ignoring their sacrifices. People are dying every moment, and being happy feels… frivolous, somehow?”

“You aren’t sacrificing people, if it makes you feel any better,” Hunter told you consolingly. “Just clones.”

You had stood from the table before you knew what had happened. Hunter stared up at you in surprise, a rare expression from a man whose senses allowed him to predict behaviors so well. 

“I don’t think this meeting was a good idea,” you told him bluntly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait-” Hunter started, trying to rise from the table, but he was interrupted by the arrival of the serving droid. The droid, oblivious to things such as tense silences, began busily unloading its tray of food onto the table, its position trapping Hunter in his seat.

You watched in silence as the table was set to the precise specifications that the droid had been programmed to deliver. Hunter, avoiding your gaze, fiddled with his silverware, ruining the droid's perfect symmetry with only a touch.

When the droid had finished and rolled away, Hunter looked up at you, confusion and guilt mingling on his face. He gestured to your plate. "Please?"

You eased back into the seat after a moment of thought. Hunter couldn't know why you were upset if you didn't give him the benefit of an explanation.

To give yourself a moment of thought, you unfolded your napkin and spread it across your lap. When you were done, you made direct and unblinking eye contact with Hunter. "It hurts me when you talk about the troopers like their lives have less meaning. Like they deserve nothing more than death to achieve a goal."

"That's what we were told all our lives," Hunter countered carefully. "At least the regs were told they could die in sacrifice for the Republic. We were told that we deserved to die because we were different."

The disgust and self-loathing in Hunter's last word made you reach out and cover his hand with yours. You made no effort to influence him - you respected him far too much for that - but you tried to convey your sympathy with a touch.

"And now you know that isn't true in the slightest," you reminded him. "I can't change a moment of your past, but we can all impact our shared present to create the future we deserve."

Hunter's warm fingers flexed under yours as he flipped his hand over to weave your fingers together. 

"That's why you're the Jedi we keep asking to be assigned to," he said with a fond smile. "You don't see us for what we can do for you, for the Republic. You just see us."

You raised your eyebrows at that, your heart feeling lighter than it had since the early days of the war. "As if the Bad Batch could be tied to a single Jedi…"

"For you?" Hunter pretended to think about it. "I think we could give it a try."

With a shared smile, the two of you turned your attention to the food you had ordered. Neither of you commented on your hands, still intertwined on the table between you.

---

A/N - I originally had a different ending in mind, but I liked this one too much to change it. I’ll leave it up to you to decide what happens when Hunter realizes that you’ve already paid for your food! 

Thanks for the request, @dreamingofclones! I hope you enjoyed!

[booksarelife-stuff]

Handprints on my Soul

When Lily sees that mark that shows her soulmate has touched her; Lily, her best friend, and an unlikely ally go on the hunt to find her soulmate.

My entry for the Idiots to Lovers July Jily Challenge! @jilychallenge

My partner is @quietlycharmed

Prompt:  we never touch each other so when you patted my arm lightheartedly, i literally think my heart leapt out of my chest and danced. please do that again.

I didn’t quite follow the prompt, but I really loved the idea of touch being the thing that makes them admit their feelings. I thought this Soulmate AU would be perfect!

Word Count: 2,946

Read on AO3        Masterlist

Lily trudged up the stairs to the girl’s dormitory. Patrols had been long tonight and she and James still had about fifty detention slips to fill out from the Hufflepuff party they busted. Lily had been willing to go to their office and fill them out, but James insisted she go back to the tower to get some rest.

She put up a fight, but she knew that when James got into his motherhen mode, there was no hope for winning. Lily found that hopelessly enduring and a little attractive but she refused to admit that.

The 7th year Gryffindor girls’ dormitory was quiet as Lily stepped in. She waved at Mary, who was reading one of her Muggle bodice ripper romances by the light of her little bedside lamp, with her curls tied up with a silk scarf. She waved absentmindedly back at Lily, only sparing a quick glance. Lily could hear Marlene’s soft snores from Dorcas’s bed.

Lily went to her bed across from Mary, pulling out her night things and quickly pulling her heavy uniform jumper off. She unbuttoned her white button-up and took it off quickly. Just as she went to undo her bra, she caught a flash of something on her arm.

On her arm was a handprint. Inky black against her pale skin. Bigger than her own hand by a lot.

Her soulmate had touched her today.

She had no idea who her soulmate was.

Lily stood frozen beside her bed as she stared at her right arm, eyes wide in shock.

“Everything okay, Lily?” Mary whispered loudly from her bed. Lily said nothing, she didn’t think she could even find the right words to say.

She heard Mary’s sigh, her getting out of bed, and then her quiet footsteps across the room. Then the gasp.

Mary clapped her hand over the mouth, stifling a scream.

“You found your soulmate!” Mary whispered, excitedly. “Who is it?”

Lily looked up at her best friend in alarm. “I have no idea.”

Mary made a face, her mouth twisting into a frown.

“Well, who touched your right arm today?” Mary prodded.

Lily thought hard, trying to remember. It was hard not to get jostled in the corridors, but she didn’t think anyone would have touched her enough for a full-on handprint to appear on her arm.

Mary gasped.

“Remus! He patted your arm at breakfast!” Mary whispered. Lily cringed. She had nothing against the lanky werewolf, but besides a small crush in third year that quickly got stomped out, she had no romantic feelings for him.  

“But he’s already paired with Sirius!” Lily pointed out. “And Remus is like a brother.”

“It’s a place to start,” Mary said. “Put on a shirt. We’re storming up to the boy’s dormitory.”

Mary’s deep brown eyes had their determined look to them. Lily wanted to argue, but she knew she could rest better if she found out about Remus right now. Lily forwent her uniform and changed into her sleep shorts and one of her dad’s old jumpers.

She followed Mary out of the dorm, pulling her hair out from where it was caught underneath the jumper. Just as they hit the bottom of the stairs, they heard muffled laughter. Then a bark that was absolutely Sirius Black.

They wordlessly abandoned their course for the boys' dormitory and stepped into the common room, just to see Remus and Sirius start-up their snogging again.

Lily’s stomach filled with dread. She really did not want Remus as a soulmate, especially with how happy Sirius and Remus were.

“Oi! Boys!” Mary yelled, making the snogging couple jump a few feet in the air.

“Merlin MacDonald!” Sirius said, getting off the couch. He glared at the girls. “We aren’t breaking curfew!”

“We don’t care about that,” Mary said, putting her hands on her hips. “We have a… situation that needs to be taken care of.”

Sirius’s dark eyebrows shot up and he exchanged a wordless glance with Remus, who shrugged in return.

“What is it?” Sirius asked, crossing his arms. Mary turned to Lily, who took a deep breath.

She rolled up her sleeve and showed off the large handprint on her right arm.

“This happened, and uh… I need to find out who it is,” she said.

“And you need our help?” Sirius asked, eyeing the large handprint with interest.

Remus gasped.

“I grabbed your arm at breakfast,” Remus whispered, staring wide-eyed at Lily’s arm.

Sirius stilled instantly.

“But Remus is already paired with me,” he said quietly. Dangerously.

“Well, it wouldn’t be reciprocated then, would it?” Lily said, trying to pacify Black.

“We just need to see if it’s him,” Mary said diplomatically.

“And I don’t want Remus as a soulmate,” Lily said. She then grimaced. “No offense.”

Remus gave a small smile. “No, I know.”

“Well, let’s see then—” Sirius gestured between Remus and Lily. “—compare them.”

Lily stepped towards Remus as he turned on the couch. Lily gave a sad smile towards Remus, who looked more anxious than she felt.

He placed his hand on Lily’s arm. His slender fingers were too long and too skinny to match the handprint. It was definitely not Remus’s handprint.

All four breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank Merlin,” Sirius said, back to his normal self. “I never learned how to share. It would have been a trying experience for all involved.”

Lily laughed, the idea of having Remus as a soulmate seemed so absurd now that it was proven he was not.

“There would be more problems than that,” Remus added, turning back towards Lily. “As lovely as you are, I still much prefer men.”

Lily waved him off with a laugh.

Mary, who had been quiet, crossed her arms and strode next to Sirius.

“We still don’t know who it is though!” she pointed out. “We have to find them!”

“We can do that tomorrow,” Lily said, looking at her best friend's pleading stare. “It’s past curfew.”

“I agree with MacDonald,” Sirius said, bumping the girl with his shoulders lightly. “I won’t be able to sleep until we find out who has laid a hand on our dear Evans.”

“Did anyone else touch you today?” Remus asked.

She remembers Marlene grabbing her arm, but the handprint would have been in the other direction. It also didn’t matter who had touched her before. The mark only comes when both people are ready for their soulmates.

Like Marlene and Dorcas didn’t have it happen until Marlene kissed Dorcas after months of ignoring her feelings. Their lips were stained forever because of it. Remus and Sirius didn’t seem to appear until Sirius stood on top of one of the tables in the common room at a party and announced that he was gay. Remus had pulled him off the table and when he let go, his palm was stained and so was Sirius’s wrist.

Sirius gasped, loudly, and made Mary jump.

“Snape! You were his partner in potions today!” Sirius said, pointing a finger at Lily. Mary’s eyes turned wide as Lily felt the air get knocked out of her lungs.

“He grabbed my arm when I was shredding the mandrake leaves,” Lily mumbled. “He told me I was doing it wrong.”

Lily suddenly did not like the idea of soulmates anymore.

Mary crossed the room towards Lily, wrapping an arm around her. Lily leaned into her touch.

The girls in the dormitory were the only ones who really knew why she and Snape’s friendship had come to an end in their fifth year.

It had been a long time coming, Lily realized in the last two years. Before Hogwarts, Snape was her best friend, a brother to her. But when he realized Lily could have other friends, he got jealous, possessive almost. He hated all the friends she made on her own.

She hadn’t actually been friendly until Remus until fifth year when they patrolled together as prefects. She had always hated him and the rest of the boys because Snape told her how much they bullied him. Snape had told her about his suspicions about being a werewolf, but she brushed him away.

It wasn’t until Remus confided in her and saw the scars that she realized Snape hadn’t been the victim all along.

What was the final straw is when Lily started to really pull away, Snape had confessed his feelings for her and truly thought she felt the same. That conversation had ended with a swift kick to the crotch.

He had slept outside the Gryffindor common room for two weeks after that, begging for Lily. That killed all the regret Lily could have about their friendship ending.

“No,” Lily said, shaking her head. “It can’t be.”

“We need to eliminate him,” Mary spoke quietly to her. “We need to make sure it isn’t him.”

“We can’t do it now,” Lily whispered back. “We can’t break into the Slytherin common room.”

“Oh, but we can,” Sirius said, with a devious smile.

                                                                                        ~~~

Lily and Mary followed closely behind Sirius. Remus had opted to go to bed but wanted a full report when they got back.

Lily’s wand was lit and she held it over his shoulder as he squinted at the most marvelous map Lily had ever seen. Sirius had pulled them through a mirror on the sixth floor that somehow had spat them back out near the Great Hall. They silently and quickly walked to the dungeons until they were standing at the door of the Slytherin Common room.

Sirius looked down at the map again.

“He’s in the common room by himself,” Sirius said. “Odd, but works perfectly.”

“Do we have a plan?” Mary asked. Sirius nodded.

“I’m going to go in first,” he said. “Give me thirty seconds and then you guys come in.”

“Why can’t we all go in at the same time?” Lily asked. “He’s a good dueler.”

“Don’t worry, flower,” Sirius said, waving his hand. “I have the element of surprise. Plus, I would expect you wouldn’t want him to see you, in case he remembers?”

Lily hadn’t thought about that, but once he said it, she was thankful for his forethought. They thought of Snape knowing that there was a little, bitter part of her that thought they could be soulmates made her stomach twist painfully.

“I’m not a coward,” she said, sticking her chin out.

“It isn’t cowardice,” Mary said, matching Lily’s pose. “He just doesn’t need to know. He doesn’t need this fodder.”

Lily sighed through her nose.

“Now that that is settled, who has the password?” Sirius asked, turning back to the black door.

“Black! I thought you had it!” Mary scolded.

“Why would I?” he asked, looking confused.

“All the passwords are in the Head Office,” Lily pointed out. “But we have to go to the fifth floor.”

Sirius grinned and reached into his pocket, which had to be magically expanded as he pulled a whole hand mirror out of it.

“James Potter,” Sirius said. Sirius’s reflection melted away and the mirror turned dark. “James! Prongs! Jamie! Emergency!”

“One moment!” James’s voice came out of the mirror.

The Marauders were constantly full of surprises. Lily wished she wasn’t so impressed.

The mirror showed light and suddenly they were getting pulled up and James’s face appeared. He looked tired but handsome. His hazel eyes were twinkling in the dull yellow light of his desk lamp in the head office. Lily’s stomach rolled.

“What’s the emergency?” he asked. “Please don’t tell me I need to find another closet you locked yourself into.”

Sirius scoffed.

“I’m doing some head girl sanctioned mischief. I need the Slytherin password.”

James’s bushy eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his curly fringe.

“Lily sanctioned this?” he asked.

Sirius moved the mirror, displaying Lily. Her cheeks heated up as James’s eyes narrowed.

“Hey James,” she said. She sounded pathetic, even to herself. “We need the password.”

James sighed deeply and his attention focused on something away from the mirror. He chuckled softly against the sounds of parchment crinkling.

“It’s Cobra,” James said, a warm smile on his face.

Lily went to say something else, but Sirius took the mirror away from Lily’s face. His smile felt seared into her mind as Sirius pulled away.

“Prongs, I love you. You’re amazing. Bye,” Sirius said, waving his hand over the mirror making James disappear.

He stuffed the mirror back into his pocket. He checked the map to make sure Snape was still there, alone.

“Thirty seconds,” Sirius said, giving them a look, pulling out his wand. “Cobra.”

Sirius stepped through, wand out. The door closed behind him silently.

Lily and Mary looked at each other as they counted, James’s smile fighting for dominance in her mind as she counted. As thirty passed Mary’s lips, Lily turned towards the door and said the password.

The Slytherin common room was cold and slimy. Everything seemed to be damp or have the appearance of being damp.

Sirius was sitting on the top of one of the black leather couches, pretending to check his nails as the form of an unconscious Snape laid on the floor to his left.

“I only needed five,” Sirius said, smirking at the girls.

Mary got on her knees next to Snape and lifted his arm. His arm went limp at the wrist.

Lily joined Mary on the ground, turning her back to her so they could get the right angle. Lily sighed, trying not to recoil as Mary guided Snape’s hand to Lily’s arm. Sirius joined them and made sure Snape’s hand lined up perfectly with Lily’s mark.

It was too small, the black mark stretching a few inches above where Snapes’s fingers ended.

“Thank fucking God,” Lily said, pulling her arm away and walking out of the Slytherin common room.

She fought the urge to run to the restroom and scrub her arm as Mary and Sirius stepped out of the common room.

“So, that’s great,” Sirius said, looking at Lily.

“Any other contenders?” Mary asked.

“I’m tired and I don’t want to do this anymore,” Lily said, shaking her head.

Mary nodded in agreement.

“We’ll worry more about it when you’re ready,” Mary said. Lily could see she wanted this mystery resolved now, but she didn’t want to push Lily.

Sirius pulled out the map and they started back up to the Tower.

By the time they got to the 4th floor, Lily thought of James in the head’s office, probably stumped as to why they needed the password. Lily thought of his smile and the way his eyes glinted in the dim light.

She wanted to see him. Maybe he would let her finish the detention slips or distract her. Maybe offer him an explanation.

“I’m going to stop by the head office,” Lily whispered. Mary raised an eyebrow in her direction and Sirius turned around to face her.

“James needs an explanation,” Lily said, simply.

Mary went to say something, but Sirius elbowed her.

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “Fifth floor is clear to the head office.”

Lily parted ways with them at the fifth-floor landing. She walked quickly to the head office, murmuring the password so the door swung open for her.

James looked up from the paperwork in surprise. He was hunched over, his left hand cradling the back of his neck like it was aching.

“Come to tell me about the head girl sanctioned mischief?” he asked, his surprise turning to a smile. He sat straight up and dropped his quill.

Whatever response Lily had on her lips died as his left hand left his neck. The whole palm of his hand was a bright white against his dark brown skin.

Lily stared at him as she remembered saying goodnight to him, not even an hour ago.

“Fine, I guess I’ll leave all the boring paperwork to you,” she said. James laughed from her right side. They were on the fifth-floor landing.

“How kind,” he said. “Next one is on you though.”

“Deal,” she said, smiling.

He reached over and gave her arm a slight squeeze. “Have a goodnight Lils.”

She rolled her eyes at the nickname but smiled.

“You too, Jamie.”

“Lily? Are you okay?” James said, standing up from his desk and strode over towards her.

“Your hand,” is what she forced out when he stood in front of her.

James looked confused as he looked down at his hands, back of them first. He turned them over and froze as he looked at his left hand.

She didn’t feel the anxiety she had when Remus had stuck his hand out, nor the dread at the thought of Snape being her soulmate. Standing in front of James, she felt happy. Excited. She felt right.

James looked up at her in alarm but the words died on his lips as Lily pulled her sleeve up. He stared at her arm for a moment before he looked back at her.

“Can I borrow your hand for a moment?” she asked, smiling.

James gave her a guarded smile but nodded. Lily turned herself so she was in the same position by his side like when they said goodnight.

She didn’t have to grab his arm. Instead, he reached out, every inch of his hand covering her black mark perfectly.

Their eyes met. Both happy and hopeful.

Lily launched herself at James, pressing her lips to his.

[pillage-and-lute]

Geralt attempts to bake cookies. That’s it that’s the prompt

Hi Cabbage-with-legs!

This is a Modern AU with Tired Dad! Geralt. + bonus pining

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

“Geralt? Geralt what’s all this.”

Geralt’s shoulders slumped and he scraped dejectedly at the blackened hockey pucks on the cookie pan. “Cookies.”

“I’ve seen charcoal briquets less black, dear heart. What’s this about?” Jaskier said, leaning his shoulder against his best friend.

Geralt sighed and leaned into the touch, hardly even registering Jaskier’s neon pink Hawaiian shirt. “PTA bake sale. They need me to bake something so I’m trying but, well...” Geralt shuffled a spatula under one pathetic hockey puck and flicked it into the trash.

“Lucky you,” Jaskier said. “I am a world class baker.”

“You burn water.”

“Cooking and baking are very different, my friend.”

“We aren’t friends,” Geralt huffed.

“Not if you keep up that attitude. How much food does the bake sale need?”

Geralt sat in a creaky chair and looked at the ugly yellow wallpaper of his kitchen. “They said anything helps, but the school is really underfunded, they need to make a lot of money off of this.”

Jaskier sat across from Geralt and bumped his foot against his friend’s boot. He smiled sadly. He saw Geralt almost every day, and Geralt never saw him, not really. He never looked at Jaskier and saw him.

It didn’t matter because Jaskier saw Geralt, and would continue to do so until Geralt threw him from his life.

“Alright,” Jaskier said standing up. “It’s Saturday, so Triss won’t have work, I’ll text her, she can bring by some bread.”

“Don’t bother her,” Geralt said.

“She’ll want to help. Yennefer too, she’ll bring something by the bake sale as well.”

None of them had much money, but baking, well, for Ciri they could all do something.

“You and I,” Jaskier said, “We’re going to bake up a storm.”

Geralt stood. “No, Jaskier. Go away.”

“No, you need my help.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Fine,” Jaskier said, hand on one jutted hip, “Then take a bite out of one of those.” He nodded his head towards the blackened tray.

Geralt growled, but it was acquiescence. 

“Great,” Jaskier said. “Now, lets start this again.” He tidied up the kitchen, loading the dirty dishes into Geralt’s ancient dishwasher and pressing start. He knew Geralt’s kitchen as well as he knew his own. When Renfri had died and left Ciri and Geralt all by themselves he’d done all the cooking here. Geralt had just sat in the chair in the living room and wouldn’t let go of Ciri. Jaskier had practically hand fed him.

Triss had called it sitting Shiva, even though she was the only Jewish person among them. From what she’d told Jaskier, though, Geralt had been doing something similar, even if he didn’t know it.

Now, though, they both moved about the kitchen. Geralt measured flour and sugar as directed and patiently took the bowl of frosting Jaskier pressed into his hands, stirring as directed.

Jaskier moved around him, orbiting Geralt like he always did, adding almond extract and nutmeg and an extra dash of salt because Geralt used too little. At one point their little dance messed up and Jaskier placed one floury hand on Geralt’s chest to keep him from backing up against the open oven door. 

He looked at the dusty handprint on Geralt’s black hoodie, right over his heart. Geralt smiled softly.

“Thanks, I would have fallen right into the oven, there,” he said. 

Jaskier chuckled, “Yeah, Hansel, can’t eat you yet I have to fatten you up,” he poked Geralt in his rock hard abs. “You’d be awfully stringy.”

Geralt rumbled a laugh, deep in his chest. “I guess I’m not prime cannibal fodder, huh?” He crossed to the laptop, open to their recipe. “What’s next?”

“I’m sure there’s someone who’d take a bite out of you,” Jaskier said absently. “But we’re done with the cookies now that they’re in the oven, onto the cake.”

“We’re making a cake?” Geralt said. He looked in dismay at the cookies already in the oven.

“Unless you’d rather make the pies first,” Jaskier said. “And yes, we are. You and I are going to nail this PTA bake sale.” He watched the way Geralt sighed, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the little roll they did to loosen the tension. 

He patted Geralt on one such shoulder, looking into a pale hazel gaze. “Drink some coffee, we’ll be up a while.”

Geralt moved to start the coffee. “Is the--”

Jaskier handed him the little scoop that Geralt used to measure out his coffee and Geralt turned around to face Jaskier.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to say,” he said.

“I did, I know you.” Geralt stepped close and looked at Jaskier with lazer focus. 

Please, Jaskier thought. For once in your life just, see me. 

“You have flour in your hair,” Geralt said, then turned back to the coffeemaker.” 

Jaskier held in a sigh and began pulling up the recipe he liked for chocolate cake. “Do you have cocoa?” He asked. 

“Cupboard,” Geralt grunted. There where multiple cupboards in the kitchen, but Jaskier knew which one Geralt meant.

They descended again into their orbiting dance.

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

Morning dawned to find a messy kitchen and two men asleep at the kitchen table. Ciri looked around, registered the mountain of cookies and muffins, four pies and two cakes, then got herself cereal. Jaskier woke up, the seam of his sleeve had pressed into his face in his sleep.

“Have you kissed my dad yet?”

Jaskier blinked away sleep to see Ciri, still in her Wonder Woman pajamas, eating a bowl of coco puffs while standing in the middle of the kitchen. He made to stand to give her the chair, but she shook her head.

“Stay put, you must’ve worked hard. When I went to bed Dad had just burned his second batch of cookies. I repeat, have you kissed my dad yet?”

“Um, no.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t want to kiss me,” Jaskier said. “He looks right through me.”

“Hmmm,” Ciri said. It was so like her father that Jaskier had to smile.

“Hello darling,” Triss said, closing the door with her foot behind her. “Jas, you’re up, I figured you’d be asleep...oh,” she glanced at Geralt, conked out on the table, then looked at the pile of baked goods. “Nice job, I brought Challah, soda bread, and Irish brown bread.”

Jaskier stood and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, I appreciate it, Triss.”

“Aunt Triss,” Ciri said. “Do you think my dad wants to kiss Jaskier?”

“Of course, why?”

“He doesn’t even really know I exist,” Jaskier said. 

“He does too.”

“He knows I exist but he looks right through me, Triss, I’m a ghost in his life.”

The front door creaked open then slammed, startling Geralt awake. 

“Whazzit?”

“It’s probably Yennefer,” Jaskier said.

Geralt blinked his eyes hurriedly and brushed back his pale hair. 

Yennefer stomped in and set down a tray full of lemon bars. “For the bake sale.” She looked up at Geralt, who was smiling at her. “You have frosting on your face.”

Jaskier stepped into the other room and Triss followed. Ciri stepped out after them, still spooning cereal into her mouth.

“He sees her,” Jaskier whispered.

“You like Yen,” Triss said. 

“I do, she’s terrifying and fun, but I just wish he looked at me like that, like he noticed me.”

“He notices you,” Ciri said. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt called from the other room.

Ciri smirked. “See?”

Jaskier reentered the kitchen. “What’s up.” 

“I’m loading stuff into my car, help.” 

Jaskier promptly took a few trays of muffins and began to walk them out to Roach, Geralt’s ‘84 Chevy Nova. It wasn’t a beautiful car but Geralt loved her, and Jaskier had grown to love her too. The four of them, watched by Ciri, loaded up the baked goods and Jaskier went to get in the passenger seat. 

“You’re not coming,” Geralt said. 

Jaskier faltered but recovered well. “Oh, well of course. And since I’m your very best friend--”

“Not my friend.”

“I’ll stay and clean up the kitchen,” Jaskier finished.

Triss made a sympathetic face at him, kissed Ciri on the forehead, and left. Yen nudged him in a mostly friendly way and swept out after her. 

Ciri watched him clean up, sitting on the counter in the corner of the kitchen. Unusually, neither of them said a word the entire time. When the last dish was put away she said.

“You know, I’m not sure Dad sees many people, not sees them. I’m not always sure he sees me. It doesn’t mean you aren’t important to him.”

Jaskier smiled wanly. “You’re very wise for fourteen.”

“I am. Extremely.”

“He sees her.”

“That’s because he’s slightly scared of her.”

Jaskier leaned with both hands on the counter and stared between them. “Ciri, you know I love you dearly?”

“Yes.”

“And I won’t stop loving you. Not ever. But I might not come around so often. I promise it doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you.”

“Just that you think Dad doesn’t care about you.”

“I know he does,” Jaskier said, looking up and crossing to where Ciri sat. “But he can’t even call me his friend. I can’t do that anymore. I need to...I need to not do that. At least for a while.”

“I’ll miss you,” Ciri said, setting down her empty bowl and hugging Jaskier. “He’ll miss you too.”

“I’m going to miss both of you too, but I need to do this. I’ll still come to every last one of your gymnastics meets. And I’ll still be your Uncle Jas.”

Cir pulled back from her hug, jaw set but her eyes dry. “I wish you could be my papa instead.” Jaskier kissed her on the forehead. 

“Bye Ciri, I’ll see you next week when you get another medal.”

She waved at him as he left.

Jaskier didn’t look up from the bus floor the whole ride back to his shithole apartment. The ugly green carpet on the floor of his room still looked the same. He shrugged and began to work on grading papers. There was no more he could do. 

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

Jaskier was surprised to find that the day had passed easily. He’d only had to turn his thoughts away from Geralt every time he started to think of him. 

Then there was a knock on the door and Jaskier suddenly couldn’t stop thinking of Geralt. There he was, drenched, from the sudden rainstorm and dripping in his apartment’s doorway. 

Geralt shoved a fist out, holding some supermarket flowers, the daisies they dyed in obnoxious colors. Usually Jaskier found them ugly but these, battered and very, very neon, were the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

“What?--”

“We aren’t friends I want to kiss you,” Geralt said in one breath.

“What?!”

“I don’t want to kiss friends. I want to kiss you a lot. All the time.”

“You never even look at me,” Jaskier said.

“I do, just not when you’re looking.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to catch me staring at your lips I want to kiss you, Jaskier.” He stared into Jaskier’s eyes, unwavering. “I see you.”

“Who told you?”

“Triss. I came home and the kitchen was clean and Ciri was sort of mad at me and you were gone so I called her and panicked,” Geralt paused for breath. “And she told me. I see you. I promise I do. maybe not all the time but I’m not good at noticing people all the time I’m...Renfri could do that. I can’t. You can notice people all the time but I just don’t. I’m sorry. I do notice you though, I see you, I promise.”

“You see me,” Jaskier said. He watched Geralt’s eyes as they looked downwards. At his lips.

“I don’t want to kiss friends, Jaskier,” Geralt whispered. “Please, please may I kiss you.”

Jaskier nodded.

Geralt tasted like the peppermint Chapstick that he bought around Christmas and hoarded all through the year. A kiss had never been so good. 

Geralt pulled back and handed Jaskier the flowers. “You don’t like this kind but I like them because they remind me of you.”

“They do?”

“They’re bright and if you were a flower Ciri said you’d be a daisy.”

Jaskier smiled. “You got her advice, on what flowers to get me.”

Geralt nodded. “She knows these things. There’s cookies, back home. I bought some from the bake sale. Someone made white chocolate macadamia nut and I know they’re your favorite.”

“Fine, Geralt. I’ll go back home with you.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I’m not moving all my stuff in tonight, but yes, eventually I’ll stay.”

“Good.”

“Ciri’s going to have to stop calling me uncle now. It’ll give people the wrong idea.”

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

It got away from me. Whoops. Happy ending for all, though.

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday

Just like last week, spoilers for The Mandalorian season two

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

Cara leaned back in the pilot's seat, wearing that same smirk she always had. The one that said "I knew you'd do it". The one that said "Learn to have a little fun!" The one that said "Admit it, you're a pushover, Din Djarin."

"I can't believe you didn't think of this before!" Cara teased.

[[MORE]]

"The kid is training, and training is school, right? Kid needs school supplies. Styluses. Lunch box. Things like that."

Din looked over his shoulder at the small bundle on the floor behind him. "Maybe..." he murmured.

Cara frowned. "Hey, quit." There was no bite in her words. There never was when they talked about Grogu: she knew better than most that some subjects weren't to be taken lightly. "He's gonna want to see you. That kid adores you."

"He...he belongs with the Jedi," Din said, if only to convince himself not to snatch up his boy and never stop running. "Not the..."

He couldn't bring himself to say "Not the Mandalorians".

Cara adjusted the coordinates minutely, then swiveled sideways in her seat. She leaned forward, elbows on her thighs, and raised her eyebrows at the morose Mandalorian.

"So...there have never been any Mandalorian Jedi? Ever?"

The "no" was already on Din's lips before the weight of the Darksaber on his hip called it into question. Could such a thing exist? One who followed both the Creed of the Mandalorians and whatever Creed the Jedi lived by?

Could Grogu be one?

And was it selfish of him to hope the child might be?

They landed on Yavin IV with little difficulty. Din hadn't expected them to be that close by! It certainly made a difference to know that Grogu wouldn't be far from Mandalore after all.

They were directed by several New Republic officers to an upper level of what Cara said was an ancient temple, surrounded by jungle. It was warm and humid, but not unpleasantly so. The croaking of amphibian creatures in the trees made Din smile under his helmet.

"Hope none of those are poisonous," he remarked, gesturing toward the trees.

The man escorting them -- Din had seen his face on a bounty puck once, he was sure of it -- grimaced. "To most animals here, they are. To certain tridactyl toddlers though..."

Cara snorted. "How many did he eat?"

The man groaned. "Four. Five if you count the one he tried to give to my kid."

Han smirked despite himself when the Mandalorian behind him immediately said, "Urgh. I'm sorry, he does that. Is yours training here too?"

"Not training, no." Han led them towards an open courtyard like place. "We decided not to start that until he's five. Little bandit can't even sit up on his own yet. Luke just babysits when Leia and I both have to work."

"Hey Han! Over here!" The familiar voice of the Jedi echoed from a shady corner beside a tree.

Han. Han Solo! That's where Din had seen his face before! Well. Probably for the best that Boba was busy on Tatooine, then. Solo and friends had taken his fellow Mandalorian's honoring of his contract...rather personally. And Fett had the scars to prove it. For all that he thought the man would probably say something to the effect of "it was just business", Din still didn't think putting him in the same room as Han Kriffing Solo was a good idea.

Any further contemplation of men with prices on their heads crumbled into silence when Din heard a familiar squeal. He dropped to his knees on instinct, just in time to catch Grogu as he tripped on the hem of his little blue robe and fell headfirst into Din's hands.

"Grogu!" Din gasped around the lump in his throat.

"Buir!" Grogu laughed from upside down, though it really sounded more like "Bweeoo!"

Quickly, Din turned the toddler right side up and examined him for injuries. He didn't look hurt, but he did have a large smudge of dirt across his cheek, and dirty handprints all over his clothes. The mythosaur pendant had gotten a little tangled around the zipper on the front, and Din realized that Grogu's robe was just a human infant's sleep sack that someone had cut a hole for feet in.

Luke Skywalker sat on the grass with a three or four month old human baby in his lap. Din guessed that must have been Solo's child. Grogu was pointing at him and babbling incoherently. Din nodded seriously.

"Yes, yes he is a baby."

"Bee bee bee. Batu."

"No, not like the tadpole babies at all, you're right."

He had no idea if Grogu was actually talking about the tadpole child he'd bonded with, but he'd made similar sounds then, hadn't he?

"Grogu."

Grogu's head snapped back to face Din. His ears perked up, and his eyes shone. That threatened to undo Din there and then, but somehow he kept his composure.

"I brought you something to help you while you learn."

Immediately the toddler started looking around. "Buir? Buir?"

Cara held up the bundle Din had purchased from a Lurmen outfitters shop. A tiny red satchel, perfect for smaller species, hung from her fingertips. As soon as Grogu saw the yellow and brown frog pattern on the front pocket, he hooted with delight and reached for it.

"Hang on, short stuff," Cara laughed, "There's more!" She opened the bag and pulled out a pack of short, chunky, styluses in many colors. "Your dad thought you'd like coloring."

Luke laughed softly. "Oh he certainly seems to like his colors. Guess why we had to improvise new clothes?"

Gently bouncing his son in his arms, oblivious to Solo's bewildered look, Din asked the Jedi the question he almost didn't want the answer to.

"What...what happened to his romper?"

Luke winced. "Um."

Behind them, Han started laughing.

"Okay, so-" Luke ran a hand through his hair. "Part of being a Jedi is accepting when you make mistakes and learning from them. Case in point, Force strong toddlers and open jars of finger paint actually...aren't the great idea I'd thought they were..."

Almost completely inaudibly he added, "andalittlebitgotinhiseye,pleasedon'tbemad!"

Grogu flailed his arms up and then down with enthusiasm, trying to show his Buir exactly what he'd done with the paint.

"Yeah," the Manda'lor sighed, perfectly content, "That sounds like my kid."

[canniballistix]

About hbo destiel.. At what point does monsterfucker dean stop seeing castiel as just another ‘monster’ to fuck mixed with pushing the limits on how much he can (sometimes literally) fuck with heaven half because he has a death wish half because he hates all concepts of a ‘greater power’. At what point does he start seeing castiel as cas, as something more.

At what point does cas stop seeing dean as just another way to rebel against heaven and stop using the excuse of his curious fascination with humanity as a whole. At what point does cas start seeing the human as dean, as something more.

Try as he might, Dean had not been able to reach the angel in the dirty trench coat.

It fucked with him a little. Like he was off his game, y’know? How many times had he managed to vent his own self-hatred through angry sex with a monster? How many times had he proved to himself that only a monster could even want him?

And yet, if he was honest, Castiel was in a different category entirely. A monster, yes-- well. Maybe.

But an angel?

That meant something else, didn’t it? It was no longer about anger and hatred and proof of the unclean. This was something holy.

If the angel wanted him, then it couldn’t be about hunger. It couldn’t be about conquest. It wasn’t primal or hateful or dirty.

And so Dean played his little games. He would tease, he would dance about the angel, trying desperately to reveal the monstrosity of heaven so he could fall back into his old habits. He would get rough, knowing that this meant nothing to a being so high and holy, yet hoping that Castiel would lash out at him. He would keep himself close. He would be rebellious.

Castiel would eventually either fuck him or kill him, and, frankly, either would work.

But Cas never did.

Oh, he showed his monstrosity. Dean saw things no mortal should see--such violence, such eldritch horror beyond imagining--but never once did Castiel point it towards Dean.

There were little things. A smack of the wrist here, a shove on the chest there. Little reminders that Dean should keep his distance, that playing this game with an angel was unwise at best and a request for death at worst.

But Dean kept on.

And so did Cas.

It’s hard to pinpoint the moment when the dynamic changed. Maybe there wasn’t a single moment, but rather many moments that all snowballed together. Maybe… maybe it was just one long moment, especially to an angel. One long inhale. One blink in the grand scheme of the universe.

But one morning, while Dean was getting dressed, Castiel made coffee.

He did it without asking, and he did it without help. He used the little coffee pot in the motel room when he probably could have conjured some up in his hand with no trouble at all.

Dean pulled his shirt down over his head and watched silently as Cas measured out each scoop of grounds. “Are you making coffee?”

Castiel did not pause. “Yes.”

Dean ambled towards the angel. “Why? You don’t drink coffee.”

“But you do,” Castiel pointed out. “I’ve watched you do it many times, now.”

Dean squinted. “And?”

Cas clicked the basket into its housing. “And you always make coffee on mornings when you’re awake before seven. And when there’s a greater than fifty percent chance of rain. And when it’s less than sixty-five degrees.”

“I… do?”

“Yes.” Castiel pressed the button to begin the brewing process, then turned to look at Dean. “Were you not doing it on purpose?”

The coffee pot began to whir.

Dean blinked. “I don’t think I could if I tried.”

“It’s part of your routine,” Cas said.

“And you know my routine?”

“Yes,” Castiel cocked his head. “Of course I do.”

Dean folded his arms over his chest. “Oh, yeah?” He turned and leaned back against the side table which held the coffee pot. “What else do I do?”

Castiel squinted. His thoughtful squint, Dean noted.

“You use too much pressure when you put the key in the ignition, but too little when you start it,” Cas said.

Dean smirked. He nodded for Castiel to continue.

Cas held his chin up, ever so slightly. “You like cotton t-shirts. And cheeseburgers, especially with pickles,” he continued. “You read in the evening. It takes you about two weeks to finish a book, and you always leave notes in the margins for whoever reads it next.”

He paused here.

The coffee maker rumbled along, water dripping steadily into the pot below.

Dean crossed one foot over the other. He did not break eye contact with the angel, even as the morning sun passed behind his head, shooting yellow streaks of light in every direction.

“Well?” Dean coughed. “I’m listenin’. There’s gotta be more.”

Castiel pouted slightly, and his gaze drifted from Dean’s face to his arm. He took a small breath. “Your tattoos.”

He stopped there.

“Yeah?” Dean prompted. “What about ‘em?”

Cas sighed, almost in frustration. “You hate them.”

Dean’s hands seized, and he gripped his own arms quite tightly.

Cas looked back up at Dean’s face. “You get tattoos to take ownership,” he explained, “but never to improve. You want to ruin yourself.”

Though Dean did not move, the tattoo sleeves on his arms seemed to swim in his peripheral.

The coffee maker spluttered to a halt.

Dean chuckled unconvincingly. “N-no,” he said. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Cas replied.

“I get tattoos because I’m a grown fuckin’ man,” Dean said.

“You get tattoos because you wish to mark your body as yours,” Cas explained. He moved in towards the coffee pot, and began to pour some into a paper cup. “And not from nothing. You’re taking it back from your father.”

Castiel continued to dress the coffee--a little bit of sugar, a little bit of milk, just how Dean liked it--without looking up. As if he hadn’t just psychoanalyzed Dean with incredible accuracy.

Dean scoffed and shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

He pushed off the table, intending to end the conversation there.

Castiel caught his arm.

Dean turned, opened his mouth to speak, and was stopped when Cas put a cup of coffee into his hand.

“I do, actually,” Cas said. “You might say that taking one’s body back from their father is an angelic rite of passage.”

From where Dean stood, with the morning sun rising behind him, he may have looked quite angelic.

Castiel tilted his chin upwards. “It can be about more than just your father,” he said. “It should be about you.”

If Dean was honest, the only tattoo he really loved was the handprint on his shoulder.

[downondilaudid]

Not Just a Genius

This is a third part to Anatomy Lesson, second part to Secret Sex Buddy.

Requested: Yes

Prompts: None

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Smut of course

“Never hide things from hardcore thinkers. They get more aggravated, more provoked by confusion than the most painful truths.”

― Criss Jami

You walked into work, your steps slightly slower than usual. You and Spencer had, let's call it a late night. Spencer had spent the night but took his own car to work to not raise any suspicion. You had arrived first, actually early for once, you assumed Spencer had stopped to get coffee. He had woken you up early this morning, horny as hell, forcing you to give him a blowjob, after that neither of you could go to sleep. You pulled out your phone getting ready to send him a text. 

Y/N: You better be bringing me some coffee. 

You stuffed your phone into your back pocket. “Gasp, is the one and only Y/N Y/L walking like she had some hot sexy time last night?” A voice teased from behind you. 

You let out a mix between a laugh and a scoff, “really, Pen?” 

She giggled, “oh please, you don’t need to be a profiler to tell you had a good time. So, who is this sex genius, do we know him?”

That’s one way to put it, you thought to yourself. You set your stuff down at your desk, Penelope hovering over you like a bee. 

“Don’t worry about it, Pen. You don’t know him.” You answered.

“Know who?” Another voice chimed in. 

You turned, seeing Spencer walk over to your desk, a drink carrier filled with two coffees in his hand. Before you could answer, Garcia took the opportunity to poke more fun at you. 

“Y/N’s supposed sex genius she was with last night. No girl walks like that unless she’s had a wild night.”

“Garcia!” You groaned out, running your hands over your face. 

“Oh, please, it’s only Spencer!” She laughed, before patting you on the head and bouncing off to her computer room. 

Spencer watched Garcia walk away, before turning back to you, “sex genius, huh?” He questioned, a smirk on his face.

“Her words, not mine.” You teased, grabbing your coffee from the carrier, taking a sip of the warm liquid.

Spencer rested his hand on your desk, leaning over you slightly, “hmm, so you don’t think I’m a sex genius, sweetheart?” His voice was low and teasing, a beautiful sound to hear in the morning. 

“I-uh, Spencer we’re at work!” 

“Please, baby? I really need you.” Spencer whined.

You rolled your eyes, turning in your chair so you were facing him directly, “go take care of yourself in the bathroom.” 

Spencer leaned in closer, his plump lip catching on his teeth, “please, sweetheart. Just suck me off real quick, we can go down to the file room. Remember last time we were there?” He leaned in once more so his lips were next to your ear, his next words came out in a low whisper, “you had such a hard time keeping quiet for me.” He brought his hand up, running it over your bottom lip. “I need you, baby.” 

Ugh, he knew exactly what buttons to push, he knew exactly what to do to get you to break. Luckily, your brain overpowered your body, and you pushed him back lightly, “no, Spence. We’re at work, you can fuck me later. Garcia’s already suspicious, and JJ already knows.” 

Spencer groaned lightly, he knew you were right, he was just too horny to accept it. 

Turns out Spencer would have to wait a while, you had a case. A case that took place in Austin, Texas, three men had turned up dead, all with the same M.O.

You took a step back, a finger placed against your chin in concentration. You and JJ were putting together a victim board, and so far you could only tell that these three men were all very openly gay. 

“They were all taken from different gay bars, the only connection is that they’re gay.” You stated.

“We’ll see what Garcia can find about their lives. It’s not against their sexuality. All unnecessary  wounds were done post-mortem, they either didn’t want to hurt them or are trying to make some sort of statement.” Hotch deciphered. 

You nodded along. 

You were talking to one of the officers, who, unfortunately, was being extremely unprofessional. He was making sexual jokes left and right, alluding to how “good he’d bet you’d be in bed.” It was revolting, you didn’t even know this man. 

“You’re sure this is all the gay bars in the area?” You questioned, pointing to a list of bars he had handed you. 

“That I know of, babydoll. Granted, I’m not gay.” He stated, adding a wink to the end of his statement. 

You cringed, trying your best to keep up a professional act, “alright, thank you.” 

He smirked at you, nodding his head, “anytime, doll, and I do mean anytime.”

You turned away rolling your eyes as you brought the list to Hotch, this case better be over quickly, you thought. 

Apparently, luck was on your side, the case had ended quickly. Apparently, a man had been frequenting these bars, picking out the most flamboyant men, killing them for media attention to bring awareness of the struggles the LGBTQ+ community goes through. His brother had recently taken his own life, due to avid bullying from his peers because of his homosexuality. 

The case was overall disturbing, and you couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and take a nice warm bath. 

You were clad in a towel, waiting for the bath to fill up, when a knock sounded through the room. You let out a sigh, praying that this conversation wouldn’t take away your warm bath. 

You peeked through the peephole, you could only see a torso, clad in a blazer, button-down shirt, and a tie. You unlocked the door, pulling it open to peek your head out. 

“What do you want, Spence? It’s late” 

He placed his hand against the door, pushing it open and slipping in. His eyes were dark, and filled with desire. “I saw that officer flirting with you earlier.” 

You groaned, “everyone did. It was so obvious.” Your hand tightened the towel on your body, walking into the bathroom to turn off the running faucet. You leaned over the side of the tub, your towel riding up your thighs.

Spencer hummed in approval behind you, one of his hands brushing gently up your thigh. “Why didn’t you stop him if it was so obvious?”

“I was trying to be professional, Spencer. A lot of women get hit on, we just choose to brush it off.” You reasoned. A yelp escaped your mouth when a hand yanked on your hair, the towel falling from your body onto the side of the tub. Spencer pulled you up, his clothed hips rocking into your bare ass. 

“Spencer” you sighed breathily, squirming lightly in his grip. 

He ignored you, his hands grabbing your elbows to pull you harder against him as he ground into you. “You know you’re mine, right?”

You nodded meekly, pressing your ass back against his crotch. “Please, just do something, Spence.” 

“I want to hear you say it, say you’re mine.” He whispered. Despite the two of you being unofficial, you were unofficially official. This was his way of letting you know, communicating through rough kisses and late nights, that the two of you were indeed exclusive. 

“I’m yours” you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt him pepper kisses over your neck, working his way down to your shoulder blades. 

“Bend over the tub.” He commanded, grabbing your hair and pushing your head forward, you stumbled to your knees, crying out at the pain. His hand released your hair, digging into your hips, he shoved you forward so the front of your thighs hit the tub. 

You yelped once more, shooting your hand out into the warm water to keep yourself from falling headfirst into the bath. “Spencer, fuck” you groaned out.

He chuckled behind you, before landing a sharp slap to your ass. Your body jolted forward at the impact, a low moan falling from your lips. Spencer laughed, a genuine laugh, “you like that, baby? You like it when I mark your pretty little ass?” His hand came crashing down again, this time harder. 

You choked on a moan, your ribs digging painfully into the side of the tub. His hand rubbed the soft flesh of your ass, trailing down the back of your thighs and back up. 

A gasp left your lips as his hand dipped into your folds, sliding up and down slowly. “You’re so wet for me… how pathetic.” 

You whimpered lightly, trying to push yourself back onto his hand. You felt so amazingly filthy at that moment, his words should’ve hurt, they should’ve humiliated you, but instead, they only made you wetter. His hand retreated, “oh, no, no, sweet girl. You’ll get what I want when I want.” Spencer chided.

He loved seeing you like this, he loved making you like this, so desperate to be fucked. It made sense when you really thought about it, he was quite submissive in his workplace and dominating you gave him that authority that he craved.

His large hand crashed down onto your backside, and you yelped at the stinging, “shit!” One of your arms reached out of the water, grabbing onto the other side of the tub. You jolted forward as Spencer continued his assault on your backside, alternating between cheeks. 

Mewls and moans escaped your mouth, you tried your hardest to keep them in, praying you wouldn’t alert the team. The worst thing that could happen is someone coming to check on you and finding you naked, bent over the side of the tub, with Spencer at your backside.

“You look so pretty with my handprints all over your ass.” He muttered, his hands running over the soft flesh, kneading it ever so often. 

You hummed lightly at his words, subconsciously pushing back into his grip. A low chuckle left his mouth, you felt him lean over your back, his hard-on pressing up against your ass. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and his hand ran up your back to tug on your hair. Your arm bracing itself against the tub fell back into the water as your head was jerked back. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?” 

“Yes, yes, daddy.” It took every ounce of strength you had to resist pushing back against him. “Please, please-” you were cut off by a shriek as Spencer's hand smacked your ass once again. 

“I don’t think you are.” He teased, his fingers trailing up and down the burning flesh of your ass.

A moan left your mouth, not able to hold back, you pushed back against him, begging for friction. Spencer’s hand yanked so hard on your hair you were pulled from the tub, and onto your sore knees. Spencer’s breath was heavy against your ear as he whispered, “I’m starting to think you’re deaf with how much you’re disobeying.”

You whimpered lightly, “sorry, I’m sorry.” Despite your words, you rolled your hips, grinding your sore ass into his pelvis. 

Spencer growled at the friction, sighing angrily through his nose, “fine,” his hand released your hair, roughly grabbing your arms, he pinned them together behind your back with one hand. “You want to cum so bad? You’re going to cum.” 

Two of his fingers filled your pussy quickly, rubbing against your walls. “Fuck!” You cried, your head dropping forward with a strangled moan. Spencer’s hand holding your arms shoved forward, digging your ribs into the side of the tub.

“You’re going to cum on my fingers, again, and again, until I decide I want to fuck you.” He spat, his fingers curling as his hand picked up speed. 

Your back arched as your orgasm neared. Moans and mantras of Spencer’s name tumbling from your lips. “Spencer, Spencer-fuck, daddy.” 

He chuckled in your ear, his fingers working impossibly faster, “cum, cum on my finger.” 

A flash of white filled your vision, your eyes squeezed shut. Shivers ran up your spine, and your head tilted back with a moan. Spencer’s fingers didn’t stop their relentless pace, working you through your orgasm. 

“Hmm… again.” Spencer commanded, stopping momentarily to add a third finger. You groaned, leaning forward to try and escape the overstimulation. But, Spencer’s grip on your arms tightened, pulling your back onto his fingers. “Shit!” You yelled, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The obscene sounds of his fingers working in and out of your went cunt filled the room. 

“Are you going to cum? You going to cum all over my fingers?” Spencer questioned, as his fingers brushed against your g-spot. 

Your thighs shook around his hand, groaning as your second orgasm coursed through your body. “Fuck-daddy, yes!” A sob tore through your mouth, your vocal cords strained and raw, all thoughts of the team completely disregarded. 

“Good girl” Spencer praised, his fingers slowing as you came down from your high. 

You panted, your shoulders aching from the grip Spencer had on your arms. “Please, please fuck me.” 

“With my fingers? Since you asked so nicely.” Spencer teased, a fourth finger prodding at your entrance. 

“No! No, no, your cock!” You cried, genuine tears flowing down your face. 

“That’s not what you said,” he whispered, as he pushed his fourth finger into you, stretching your walls. 

You screamed, thrashing in his grasp, “Spencer, fuck-fuck.” You were delirious, mind completely clouded with a suffocating lust. It was like you and Spencer were the only two humans on planet earth, the only beings that mattered. 

“One more and I’ll give you my cock” Spencer groaned out in your ear, his own primal lust beginning to take over. 

Broken cries of his name were the only words you managed to say as your third orgasm consumed you, the pressure building in your stomach finally being released. 

“There you go” Spencer praised, pulling his hand from your cunt, as your juices ran down your thighs. 

“Spence-I can’t” you whimpered out, your thighs still shaking from your orgasms. 

Shuffling could be heard from behind you, followed by clothes rustling and the distinct sound of a zipper. “I didn’t ask if you could, you’re going to, baby.” 

He released his hold on your arms, and your body fell forward once more, arms just barely catching yourself from plummeting headfirst into the tub. The head of his cock brushed against your sensitive cunt, and Spencer’s hands grabbed onto your hips, sharply tugging you back onto him. 

You let out a loud scream, the pain and pleasure blending together to form a sweet bliss. “Fuck” you moaned, his hands helping to guide your hips back to his. 

“Fuck, that's it, Y/N” Spencer moaned, adjusting his grip on your hips, the sheen layer of sweat on your bodies causing them to slip. 

Spencer’s hips slammed into your bruised ass, the sound of his skin colliding with yours echoing throughout the bathroom. Your knees were definitely going to be a pretty shade of pink tomorrow. 

Then, strangely, all of the sensations were gone, Spencer had scooted away from you, leaving you empty and used. “Spence what the fu-ah!” 

As you were about to question him, his hands dug into your hips again, yanking you away from the tub. Your arms slipped from the tub, falling to the floor. Before you could get out another word, Spencer’s hand was on the back of your head, gripping your hair. He pushed your head down, causing your arms to collapse, leaving your ass in the air, and the side of your face squished against the cool tile. 

A sob tore through your chest as you felt him fill you once more, and your nails scratched against the tile, searching for something to hold onto. Spencer growled into your ear, lust possessing his body as he pounded into you viciously. You had no clue how you were going to be able to walk tomorrow without arousing suspicion. 

                                                            … 

When you thought of the jet, you thought of peace, it was the calm after the storm. After seeing the horrors of your job, it was pure tranquility to gaze out the window at the blue sky and feel the slight bumps as you ascended through the clouds. 

“You okay, Y/L?” Derek asked from beside you. 

“Hmm?” You said, his deep voice pulling you from your pensive state.

His brows furrowed at you, his head tilting slightly. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I was just looking at the clouds.” 

Derek nodded, starting to pull the headphones hanging around his neck back up to his ears. 

“Did you guys hear that couple last night?” Emily chimed in.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and it took all of your willpower to not shoot a glare at Spencer, but you knew that would only arouse suspicion. 

“Yeah, they were… loud.” JJ said, and you could feel her blue orbs bearing into you. Shit

“Someone was getting some.” Derek chuckled. 

Emily and JJ laughed along, and you took this as your opportunity to gaze up at Spencer, seeing his nose stuffed in a book, eyes speedily scanning the pages. The title definitely wasn’t written in English. 

Spencer’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, one of his eyebrows quirked in a questioning manner. You quickly looked at your lap, like a schoolgirl who had been caught staring at her crush.

“Speaking of, Penelope told me you’ve found some sort of sex genius, Y/N” Emily teased, leaning forward slightly. 

“Ooooh, now I’m listening,” Derek said, turning his attention to you. 

Your eyes darted to JJ, a nervous smile on your face, “he’s not a sex genius, he’s just a guy I met.”

“Oh, so there definitely is someone,” Derek concluded with a laugh. 

You groaned, “I’m going to kill Penelope.”

They chuckled at your statement before Emily spoke up “he must be good if he’s hindering your ability to walk into work.”  

A blush crept onto your face as the three of them erupted into a fit of laughter, you hid your face in your hands, sighing in annoyance. If only they knew said “sex genius” was sitting five feet away from them. 

“Leave Y/N alone.” A gruff voice spoke, a small smile on Hotch’s face as he walked by.

“Thank you!” You screeched, your hand gesturing to him. 

“Did Hotch just smile?” JJ asked, a giggle in her voice.

                                                             … 

You dragged your sore body into your apartment, lazily tossing your keys onto the kitchen counter. The case wasn’t horribly rough, as mild as murder can get. But, Spencer was definitely rough, not that you disliked it. 

You stripped off your blouse, throwing it in the laundry bin, working on your pants next, which you had worn due to your bruised knees. Right as you were about to unclip your bra, a knock sounded from the front door. 

A groan could be heard throughout the room as you trudged to the door, eye peeking into the peephole. Another groan escaped your mouth at the sight of Spencer, you begrudgingly unlocked the door, pulling it open.

“Spencer, what the hell? I’m still sore, and tired.” You complained, turning on your heel to walk back inside. 

Spencer followed, his eyes trailing you like a predator to prey, he leaned leisurely against the counter, his arms crossed. “I never really punished you for letting that officer flirt with you.” He voiced aloud. 

You rolled your eyes, turning to face him, your hands planted sassily on your hips, “seriously you wouldn’t call dicking me down with my face against the floor a punishment?” 

Spencer laughed, a smirk dawning his face, “hardly” his head tilted slightly watching as you shifted your weight in discomfort. 

You weren’t uncomfortable with him, per se, but rather, how vulnerable you felt. You stood, clad in a lacey bra and panties, and he stood, fully clothed, just watching you.  

“C’ mere,” he said, gesturing with his hand. You complied, walking towards him with an awkward shyness. His hand brushed some stray hair from your face, tucking it securely behind your ear. “You’re such a pretty girl, you know that?” 

A shiver washed through your body at his touch, his fingertips trailing lightly down the side of your face, and to your shoulder, playing with the strap of your bra. “Y/N” he started, his hand grazing between the valley of your breasts. “You know that right?” He questioned, his tone more assertive than before. 

You bit down on your lip lightly, nodding your head. His hand trailed back up your chest, curling under the strap of your bra, and in one sharp tug, he had pulled you to his chest, growling lowly in your ear. “Then you understand why I’m not fond of you allowing men to flirt with you, thinking they have a chance with you?” 

Each sharp breath you took pushed your chest even further into his, eyes bearing up at him. He released your bra strap, resting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you away from him. “Then, make it up to me.”

You grabbed onto his arm, steadying yourself as you dropped to your knees. You reached out, beginning to unbuckle his belt, before his hand grabbed yours, halting your movement. “Ah, ah, bra off first.” He teased, his own hands finishing unbuckling his belt. His lust-filled eyes watched as you reached behind your back, unclasping your bra, and sliding it off your shoulders. 

He hummed in approval, and his hand reached into his slacks, pushing them down slightly as he pulled out his hard cock. His head fell back with a groan as you quickly wrapped your lips around the head, your pointer finger running up the vein on the underside. 

He let you tease, surprisingly, and his hand laced in your hair, pulling some of it out of your face. “Fuck” he muttered breathlessly. 

You moaned lightly around him, taking more of him into your mouth, hand wrapping around what you couldn’t fit. Spencer groaned, his brows knitting together, as his hand applied pressure to the back of your head, forcing you down on him. 

You let your hand fall from his length, placing it at the back of his thigh to brace yourself. You breathed steadily through your nose, suppressing your gag reflex as you took him deeper. His hand stopped, grabbing a fist full of your hair, and pulling your head back. 

“That’s it, baby, show me how sorry you are.” His words seemed to ignite something in you, the grip on his thigh tightened, and you bobbed your head along his length. Spencer moaned at the feeling of your lips around him, yanking back on your hair, causing you to gag slightly. “Good girl” he praised, and a muffled whimper escaped your mouth. 

You pulled back, slower this time, letting your tongue run along his cock. “Hmm… you want me to cum in your mouth or your cunt?” Spencer asked, pulling your head off his cock, saliva dribbling down from the corners of your mouth.

“Cum in my pussy, please?” You begged, both of your hands pressed against his thighs, begging at his feet like a puppy. 

Spencer smiled down at you, one of his hands stroking your face affectionately. “Okay, sweetheart.” His hands grabbed yours, helping you to your feet. Once you were upright, one of his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him for a soft kiss. You hummed lightly, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Bedroom, I want you to ride me.”

You grinned at him, giddily grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hall. 

He stepped in first, pushing off his blazer, his hands beginning to unbutton his dress shirt, “you going to help me?”

“Of course, daddy” you replied, stepping forward to work on his pants while he took off his shirt. 

A dreamy sigh left your throat as you watched Spencer clamber onto the bed, turning to prop himself up against the pillows. Quickly, you shed your panties, not bothering to look at the obvious wet patch. “Ride daddy,” Spencer said, his hands folded behind his head. 

You crawled onto the bed, stopping next to Spencer, about to throw a leg over him, when his hand grabbed your hip, stopping you. Your brows knitted in confusion, “Spene-” 

“Wrong way, sweet girl.” Spencer smirked at you.

Your jaw dropped, “Spencer, please, I want to see you” you groaned out.

He chuckled at your whining, his hand pointing forward as he spoke, “you will, baby. And I get to see your pretty little ass.” Your gaze followed his hand, jaw dropping even further when you saw what he was pointing to. Your vanity mirror. 

“Okay” you replied meekly, turning your body towards the mirror and crawling over his lap. His hands met your hips, helping you onto him. 

One of Spencer’s hands left your hip, using it to guide his cock up and down your cunt. “Fuck” you moaned, your hands digging into the soft flesh of Spencer’s bare thighs. “Please, daddy, ple-fuck!” You cried as his cock slipped into you. You ground your hips down onto him, moaning as your walls dragged along his length. 

“Such a good girl” Spencer growled, one hand on your hip, and the other coming down to smack your ass. You shrieked, your hips working faster, your gaze fell onto the mirror, watching as your tits bounced and Spencer’s cock disappeared inside you. You moaned at the sinful sight, you didn’t think watching yourself fuck could be so erotic, but guess you were wrong. 

“You love this don’t you, baby? Such a slut for me, love watching you ride me.” Spencer muttered, the exhaustive lust beginning to overpower your tired bodies. 

You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach as you weakly nodded at Spencer’s words. “Can I cum? I wanna cum for you.” You groaned out, one of your hands leaving his thigh to rub small circles against your clit. 

His hand grabbed your hair, yanking your head back as he growled out “you’re mine. Say it, tell me who you belong to!” 

You cried out, your hips beginning to falter as Spencer rolled his hips up into you. Your eyes crossed, a weak moan falling from your lips. “You, you-I’m yours” 

Spencer grunted harshly, giving another sharp tug to your scalp, “watch yourself, see how pretty you look when you cum around my cock.” 

A squeal left your body as your orgasm hit you like a train. His hand released your hair, causing you to fall forward, arms planted firmly against the comforter as your body tensed. You watched in the mirror, as moans spilled from you, and Spencer grunted behind you, his own orgasm washing over him. Your mouth was open in a silent scream, and your thighs shook around Spencer’s. His hands shot to your hips, digging into your skin, his nails leaving crescents and red streaks as he readjusted his grip, pulling you down onto him one last time.

                                                           …

You basked in the feeling of Spencer’s warm body against yours, head laying against his chest, listening to his heart beat. 

Spencer’s hand ran soothingly through your hair, “I love you” his raw husky voice broke the silence.

You giggled like a schoolgirl, tilting your head to look up at him, “I love you more.” 

“Actually, statistically men tend to say ‘I love you first,’ which I did not. Women do tend to say ‘I love you’ around ten times more than men. Men and women express their feelings of love and affection in different ways. Men are usually-” 

His rant was silenced by your lips melting into his, upturned in a smile. You pulled back, a smile still on your face, “we have all day to ourselves tomorrow, go to sleep.” 

Spencer chuckled, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer into him. His lips placed a kiss to the top of your head, the two of you drifting off to sleep in each other's embrace. 

The unfortunate ringing of your cell phones brought you out of your slumber. You rolled over groggily, grabbing your phone. Pulling it away from your face, you let your eyes adjust to the light. You were met with the sight of two neglected notifications. 

Hotch: We have a case, meet at 9.

At least it was an hour later than usual.

One missed call: Aaron Hotchner. 

Fuck. Your eyes darted to the time at the top of your phone, your stomach doing backflips as your read, 9:12.

You scrambled from the bed, whacking Spencer awake in the process. “Jesus, Y/N” he groaned, sleepily running a hand over his face. 

“Get up” you said, grabbing his clothes from the floor and chunking them at him, “we have a case, we’re late.” 

He was out of bed so quick on any other day you would've thought he had watched a dead body be resurrected. “I can’t wear these clothes, I wore them yesterday!”

“There’s no time to stop, we’re already ten minutes late!” You groaned, throwing on a t-shirt, hoping you could dress up the look with a blazer.

“Dammit” he cursed, following your lead. 

Spencer walked through the glass doors, you hobbling behind him, still sore from yesterday. At the sight of the two of you, all jaws dropped to the floor. 

“No. Way.” Emily enunciated, her head shaking in disbelief. 

Derek laughed loudly, “you’ve been holding out on us, pretty boy.” He said between breaths.

“W-what? No-I don’t-we didn’t” The two of you began to defend yourselves, talking over each other, a stupid move in a room full of profilers. 

“Y/L your shirts on inside-out, and I’m pretty sure that’s the blazer Spencer wore yesterday.” Derek pointed out, now catching his breath. 

You looked down and sure enough, he was right, your shirt was on inside-out, and you had unknowingly grabbed Spencer’s blazer from the floor. No wonder it was so big. 

“So Spencer’s not just a genius, but a sex genius!” Garcia squealed, an enthusiastic smile curling her purple painted lips. 

Spencer flushed at the comment, his hands digging into his pockets. “Dear God” you mumbled, burying your face in your hands. 

You all shuffled into the briefing room, taking your seats. “And cue the never ending teasing.” You groaned. 

“Did they finally figure it out? You two need to stop sneaking around like teenagers.” JJ chimed in, walking into the room, handing files out to everyone. 

“What, you knew?” Emily gasped, looking at JJ bewildered. 

“You guys told JJ?” Derek accused. 

“Oh, no one told JJ, JJ found out herself when the two decided to get frisky at the club!” JJ laughed, joining in on the torment. 

“Ah, ah, ah! Stop it, stop!” You cried, not being able to stop the smile that broke out onto your red face. 

“Leave the teenagers alone, we have a case.” Hotch said, making his appearance in the room. 

“Seriously, you too?” 

“At least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” Spencer pointed out meekly, peeking up at you, his red face matching yours. 

You giggled at the revelation, things would definitely be different now, and maybe for the better. 

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

The Hangover (Def Leppard x Reader)

(Happy birthday to my blog!! To celebrate 3 years of the place where I concentrate my insane Leppard obsession, I thought I’d celebrate by posting the FIRST Def Leppard fanfic I EVER wrote ((which I have NEVER posted anywhere before!)) I began writing this exactly 3 years ago today- the day I made this blog ((February 19th, 2018))- and officially finished it about a year later. This is not intended as a romantic/sexual fic, it’s simply just an x reader in which the reader is basically one of the guys. In other words, it’s on crack.)

((I am aware this is kind of cringe-worthy at times... but I still like a lot of things about it. While I revised it very slightly before queuing it,  I was still 16 when I started writing this, okay... gimme a break...))

(Illustration by @paper-sxn​)

Words: 8,684 Prompt: Dublin, 1984. You’re with the Leppards in their early pre-Hysteria era house. You all wake up with hangovers after a boozed-up night at home, and you each try to put the pieces of the previous night back together. Meanwhile, you’re praying that one particular piece won’t fit in anywhere... (partially inspired by the “Blitzgiving” and “The Pineapple Incident” episodes of How I Met Your Mother)

-----

Gently piercing white light made its way through the windows of the bedroom. It hit your eyelids, and it hit your brain, igniting a brief but killer headache. As your eyes clasped together more, you turned your face into the gloriously soft pillow. For a second you asked yourself why you would have a headache so early in the morning, but then…

You laughed quietly into the bed, recalling without warning some vague happenings from the night before. There wasn’t much you remembered, but you clearly saw the image of the guys flat out drunk at some point (you along with them). There were some blips of you all singing together, Sav hanging from a door frame, you chugging some scotch, Joe chugging some vodka, Steve’s hair being in pigtails, and you think Phil might’ve been giving you a lap dance... or vice versa. It was, all in all, hysterical (at least- that’s what you wanted to think).

 Other than those faint events, unfortunately, the night was gone. Still, you were thrilled that it happened. Crazy times with your boys were always good.

You rubbed your eyes, ready for more sleep to combat the pounding in your head. When you did, they opened a little, and you realized… this wasn't your room you were in. Squinting around, you noticed that you were sleeping in Phil’s room instead of yours.

Oh, it’s not that much of a problem, you mused, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. I’ve woken up to worse in this place.

You let your eyes close again easily, and you found peace as you began to fall under again. That is, until you felt someone move next to you.

When it happened, you became aware of the warmth coming from someone else in the bed. They only shifted in their sleep a little bit before going still again. Your eyes went wide, and you held your breath. You don’t remember getting into bed with someone (in fact, you don’t remember getting into bed at all). Turning your head, you looked to see what sort of stranger was in bed with you currently. Instead of a stranger, scraggly blonde hair over a kind and shy face met your sight, and you were instantly calmed upon realizing that it was just Steve. That was good, that was good, but why were you and Steve sleeping in Phil’s bed? You were sure you didn’t have sex last night- at least, not with Steve. This tiny moment of appeasement and confusion was cut short by the faint sound of guitar chords coming from downstairs. The music echoed to your ears, signaling that it had to be Phil, and that he was playing the opening to Bringin On the Heartbreak. Cautiously taking the covers off you- not wanting to wake Steve- you felt obliged to go to the other guitarist. When you stood up and began walking, you nearly fell forward from the sudden vertigo of your hangover. You had to hold onto the counter of Phil’s dresser for extra support, and that’s when your reflection in his mirror caught your eye. Not only that, but that’s when your outfit also caught your eye. One of the guys’ Union Jack tank tops had been slipped over you somehow, and two hand prints were on either side of your face in dried paint; one was blue, one was green. "What…?“ you whispered, touching your face and feeling the shirt on you. It seemed to fit you alright, which made you wonder whose it really was. You were also in black underwear, and nothing else. While eyeing yourself, you took notice of Steve in the reflection. You now saw a few big red lipstick stains on his face, untouched and unsmudged. It was pretty cute, you had to admit, but another thing that came to your attention was that it wasn’t you who was wearing the lipstick at the moment. So then who kissed Steve all over his face? You treaded carefully down the hallway, putting one foot in front of the other and dragging a hand on the wall for support. The melody of the distant guitar didn’t cease the whole time you trekked through the house to get to Phil. When the chords of the song dragged on to the part where the vocals should have begun, no vocals came. Everything in the house looked remarkably the same (despite everything you remember from last night). There were large, ripped pieces of cardboard in the middle of the hallway;  scattered out as if leaving a trail. Alongside that, there was a piece of paper labeled “pay 2 the orerr of Rick: one fuckin bendee straw” in what may have been Sav’s handwriting on top of the stairs, and blue paint smudged on the railing going downwards (guaranteeing that whoever did that eventually got to your face, too).

Step by step you descended as the scenery of the house teetered around you (a little too reminiscent of Me & My Wine, you would add). When you reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the living room, sure enough, Phil was there, strumming away.

“But it’s easy come and easy go…” he hummed.

“You’re…” you mumbled, burped a little, and continued, “Awake. How?” He stopped playing and crossed his arms, quietly sassing you, “Ah, she rises again. You regrettin’ anything yet?” You blinked and rubbed your eyes, scratching a little bit of paint off of your face and inquiring in a scratchy, tired tone, “I guess so… but- how? You, how?” Phil took off his guitar and stood up with his hands in his pockets, “Because I barely drank at all last night, and I also sure as hell didn’t shag Steve in someone else’s bed!” “How do you mean- I didn’t- wait- and Steve- what?” you rubbed your head, getting dizzy, causing Phil to guide you to the couch. “I didn’t- I didn’t shag Steve last night,” you insisted. “Mm hmm,” the guitarist hummed disapprovingly, “Alright.” “What the hell are you on about?” Phil smirked evilly and laughed, “He carried you upstairs, we heard the door close, and then some rather happy noises were heard, so we all just assumed-!” “That’s not-” you swallowed and lay your head back on the couch, “-a valid assumption.” “Oh, you poor thing,” came the sarcastic remark, “You really don’t remember, do you?” “Well I figured if I ever fucked any one of you I would- you know- remember it!” you raised your voice at him, then rubbed your temples. “I’m touched, really. But I’ll fill you in a bit,” Phil yanked up his guitar he’d put down, placed himself next to you, and played the into to “Ballroom Blitz”. Then a bit of the night came back to you. “Oh... that’s what started it all, didn’t it?”

~The night before~ Rick began banging out a tune on his drum kit in the house with you, Sav, and Steve sitting close by, them being at the ready with their guitars. “You ready, Steve?” you mimicked the original lyrics. “Uh-huh,” he replied exactly like Steve Priest in the original song. “Savy?” you said next. “Yeah,” Sav bopped his head to the beat. “Rick?” “Okay.” “Alright, fellas,” you called out, “Let’s go!” The two guitarists let their instruments ring out around the house, playing the all-too-familar tune. As soon as they started this, the front door opened, and none other than Phil and Joe walked in. Joe was holding a bag that was weighed down by the mass inside it (a painfully obvious sign that there were a few bottles of booze). Although the two of them weren’t talking, they were physically hushed upon hearing the situation you and the others had created. “Oh life’s been getting so hard, living with the things you do to me…” you sang lowly and quietly along with the music being made, just to make sure the musicians knew their places. You noticed Phil run out of the room in excitement, and into the one where he keeps his guitars. Joe, on the other hand, stayed put and watched the rest of you from afar, fighting a smile. “My dreams are getting so strange, I’d like to tell you everything I see…” You stood up, and Joe began walking towards you when you called out the next line of the song, “Oh- I see a man in the back, as a matter of fact, his eyes are as red as a sun!” Joe chimed in without warning at the next line, putting an arm on your shoulder and pointing at you, “And the girl in the corner, let no one ignore her, ‘cos she thinks she’s the passionate one!” *** “It’s, it’s a ballroom blitz, it's, it's a ballroom blitz,” Phil sang the ending teasingly to you when he put his guitar back. It felt like he was rubbing his energy in your face (since you lacked it). Before Phil could continue, Joe suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Yeah! It’s a ballroom blitz!” he announced, throwing his arms into the air and taking a bow. He sounded a bit tipsy still. Joe was wearing his Union Jack shorts, but no shirt. Instead of a shirt, though, he had the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” sloppily painted across his chest in blue and green paint. Right over his nipples there were also two handprints, almost exactly matching the ones on your face. Joe stumbled in the doorway, falling to his knees and groaning in discomfort, “Ohh... probably should’ve stayed in bed.” Phil sluggishly trekked over to the singer and pulled him partially to his feet, yanking him towards the couch, “Oh yeah? And by ‘bed’, you mean-?” “Definitely not the bathtub.” Joe assured him, but winked at you. “No matter where you slept, it’s still not as bad as where she slept,” Phil pointed at you, “And what she did there.” “Why? What’d you do?” Joe’s tipsiness wore away in his sentence, making him sound genuinely concerned and curious. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what Phil was going to say, “Phil, I-” “It’s not what she did, it’s who she did- she shagged Steve in my bed!” the guitarist accused you again while pointing a finger. Immediately Joe exclaimed, “Nice!” and held up a hand to high-five you. “Joe!” you scolded him, surprised that he took this as good news. “Oh-uh, not… nice?” he took away the offer of a high-five and scratched the back of his head awkwardly instead, “Also, is that my shirt?” You took a look down at the Union Jack tank top you were wearing and back at Joe’s torso. Then something clicked in your head. “Ohh…” you continued staring at Joe’s chest, feeling yourself blush as old memories unraveled in your head, “I think... I think I remember something else that happened last night.” *** You were all drunk; it was no lie. After your quick jam session, there was a booze-filled music fest going on in the house. Joe had even put on his Union Jack outfit, pretending he was getting ready for a show. At one particular point of this “festival” you'd all created, records were being played, and you ended up dancing in front of Joe to REO Speedwagon’s “Take It On the Run”. “You’re bringing up your white lines, you’re pullin’ on a bedroom eyes, you say you’re going home, but I won’t say when,” you sang the wrong lyrics as you swayed and drunkingly made flirty faces at Joe on the couch. Sav, meanwhile, was playing with some old craft paint off in the corner. The blue and green substances were all over his hands (but somehow, one color managed to stay on each hand). “Yeah, you dance for him, Y/N!” Rick cheered you on from the kitchen as Steve and Phil sat on the couch. Phil was perfectly sober, and Steve was giggling and laying with his head on Phil’s lap. You, on the other hand, were now moving closer to the singer, almost like you were giving him a lap dance. “You take it on the run, baby,” you sang along, slowly taking Joe’s Union Jack tank top off of him (with no objections from below), “If that’s the way you wanna, baby...” In return to Joe being shirtless, you slowly took off your own shirt (triggering wolf-whistles and cheers from the guys) to replace it with Joe’s tank. “Sav, mark him up!” you ordered the painted bassist in the corner as you tried to dress yourself. He happily made his way over to you and questioned, “What should I mark him with?” A single hazy idea came to you, and you eagerly whispered it into Sav’s ear. He giggled in response, and proceeded to move over to Joe, drawing something on his chest in the paint. To keep Joe from looking at what it was, you went behind the chair and covered his eyes, ordering coyly, “No peeking!��� “All done!” Sav announced and retreated back to whatever he was doing in the corner. “Now, wait, Sav!” you sped over to him, lifted his hands up, and double high-fived him, getting the paint on your hands as well. To finish off what Sav had started, you ran back over to Joe on the chair, and slapped your hands on his chest, right over his nipples. Laughter erupted from everyone in the room (including Joe) and you repeated Sav’s words. “All done!” Joe gazed down at the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” on his chest as you continued to dance to the song playing. “You’re mine, now! You take it on the run, baby... if that’s the way you want it, baby...” Joe tried to tell you in a sexy voice, “Am I your baby now?” “If that’s the way you want it baby,” you repeated the words from the song to him, “Now I’m done dancing for you! Somebody dance for me!” Steve began pointing at everyone individually, childishly suggesting, “It should be, eenie, meenie, miney, Phil!” “Why me?” Phil laughed in objection as you took a seat across the room. “Because you’re not wasted,” his terror twin argued, poking him on the nose. The sober guitarist looked over at you with happy anticipation, awaiting a comment, while all you did was wiggle your fingers at him with a goofy grin. After that, you returned the gesture to the man on his lap, giving Steve a sexy wink. *** “Oh my god...” you put your head in your hands shamefully as Phil and Joe giggled at the memory of the previous night, “I can’t believe I did all that...” “That was a treat!” Phil laughed, hugging you from the side and pulling you closer to him in consolation, “It was funny! We never get to see that side of you!” “There’s a certain reason why you don’t...” you moaned with embarrassment, then asked out of guilty curiosity, “How many times did I grab your ass during that lap dance...?" Phil thought for a bit before telling you, “Four. Well- four and a half...” You gave a loud groan of protest as Joe laughed and slumped back into the couch. “Oh, you only did those things because you weren’t thinking!” Phil consoled you, swayed back and forth with you in his arms. Joe chimed in, “Yeah, and see what happens when you don’t think? You do! Most importantly, you do Steve!” “I didn't do Steve!” you shot your head up and yelled at Joe. You received only laughs and snorts from both men in reply. Suddenly, Sav appeared on the staircase and began singing “Squeeze Box” by The Who with a tired yet cheeky smirk, “Mama’s got a squeeze box she wears on her chest, and when Stephen comes home, he never gets no rest-” Joe and Phil joined into his song with, “Cos' she’s playin’ all night, and the music’s alright! Mama’s got a squeeze box, Stephen never sleeps at night!” You just put your head back in your hands, trying not to accept your fate of being teased. You didn’t want to think that you possibly shagged Steve. He always seemed so innocent to you in a way, and you feared that this would kill your friendship. If everything the boys said was true, you would never hear the end of it, and you don’t even know what Steve would think of you from now on. Was it possible that he remembered anything about the night before? “It didn’t happen, it didn’t happen...” you repeated to yourself in a whisper as Phil unwrapped his arms from you. Sav came all the way down the stairs; his body language making him look grumpy with the world, but his tired grin signaling that he was pleased with seeing you. “Oh, it happened, sunshine!” the frizzy-haired bassist laughed, but quickly regretted it and rubbed his head with his still-painted hands, “Ah- yep, it happened. You could probably hear you two up the whole damn street.” As Sav wearily joined you all on the couch, Joe complained, “Sounds like that was a treat; I wish I remembered it!” Phil was caught off guard at the comment. His head turned to Joe in the blink of an eye and gasped, “Wait, you don’t remember hearing them?!” “I wish I could say I do, but there’s nothing there,” Joe stood up after he spoke, and quickly held onto the wall nearby. His hand went over his stomach as he whined, “Oh... fuck, Y/N, why did you make me race you last night?" “'Race me'?” you squinted as you inquired, “Race you with what?” Joe didn’t answer, but slowly took steps into the kitchen, using the wall as his guide. His answer came when you, Sav, and Phil all heard him throw up into the sink. You sighed, resting your hands over your eyes, trying to remember the cause of Joe’s sickness, “Oh no, was that really my idea?” *** “Look what I found!” you trotted into the room tipsily, holding two bottles; one of scotch, one of vodka, “Only half full! Who wants em?” While you weren’t full-on drunk, it was no secret that the title wasn’t that far away. After your little Ballroom Blitz, it was one beer after the next, then it was digging into the fancy liquors that Phil and Joe had just brought home. Your judgment was impaired, no doubt about it, and so was the judgment of all the guys. Joe even changed into his normal live-show-only Union Jack tank top, claiming that he was gonna "put on a show." The only one who was still sane and sober was Phil, who seemed to be staying away from your poison. Upon registering your sacred offer of alcohol, Rick ran forward, chanting, “Me! Me!” You lifted the bottles away from him, commanding, “Uh-uh! I get the scotch.” “Oh, bollocks, then you can keep the vodka,” the young drummer grumbled and turned away from you. Just as Rick rejected your offering, Joe sprung up and eagerly trotted over while shouting happily, “I’ll take it!” “Sold!” you handed the bottle over to him, “Betcha can’t finish before me!” “Betcha I can!” he sneered back before taking the cap off his bottle. There was no official “ready, set, go” for the race; you both just kind of went for it without any saying. While your throat and stomach were already protesting your actions (and you could almost sense that Joe’s were doing the same), you didn’t stop once; neither of you did. You held up your bottle and announced, “Done!” Looking over, you saw Joe was also finished. “I finished first!” “Nuh-uh!” you insisted, “It had to be me! Tell him, guys!” The four others hadn’t been paying attention to you and Joe’s little competition; they were instead focused on a box that Sav had pulled out from a cupboard. From the box they pulled out bottles of paint and various types of used makeup.

Joe scolded them all in a more sober manner, “Oh come on, you lot weren’t even watching!” “Yeah, yeah, it was probably a tie, anyways,” Rick chuckled, pulling out more items from the box. “This box is much more interesting, too," Phil protested, holding up a stick of lipstick as Sav held up two bottles of paint, "This is a box of makeup that I had for me and the lads in Girl! Just look at it all! Think we can have some fun with this?" "Oh, piss off," you threw the empty bottle onto the couch, "We need some music." Joe had slumped down onto a chair, and you stumbled your way over to the shelf with all the records on it, flipping through and eyeing them all as carefully as your body would let you. After only a few seconds of searching, your eyes lit up at a discovery. "Here's a good one!" you exclaimed as you pulled out a copy of Hi Infidelityby REO Speedwagon, "Let's give it a spin!" ***

Joe wandered back into the room and fell onto the empty couch with a grumble. “Sorry, Joe...” you muttered over to him, realizing that you pressured him into more consumption of the booze. “It was probably gonna happen anyway...” he admitted, wiping his hands over his face, “It’s was my stupid choice to go through with it.” “Woah,” Phil pointed out out of nowhere, looking at you with great surprise, “What’s that on your neck?” You felt your heart drop into your stomach. “What!?” you shot up from where you sat (bringing on more dizziness), and rushed over to a mirror. Once your dizziness subsided, and you could finally see your reflection, the pink shape of a hickey on the side of your neck was now clearly conspicuous. You wondered how you hadn't noticed it before. Joe exclaimed with a smug and proud grin, “Is that from Steve!?” You groaned angrily, feeling yourself become more and more defeated. “I can’t believe it,” you gasped, slapping a hand over the mark, “Something did happen between us-!” “Y/N,” Phil pointed out again, “There’s lipstick on your thigh...” Looking down at your legs, you saw that he was right. There was a single red symbol on your right thigh that marked a kiss from the night before. Upon seeing this, what you saw when you woke up popped into your head. “Looks like Steve went to town down there,” Sav smirked at you, only wanting to rub it in more. “Guys,” you softly noted, “That wasn’t Steve... he has lipstick marks all over his face from someone else...” The three men all exchanged confused looks with each other. There was a dead end to the story of the previous night. None of them knew how to solve the mystery of the lipstick. Not even Phil, who was as good as sober 12 hours ago, didn’t have any input. Sav suddenly blurted out, “Wait a minute, I know what happened- I think...” No one said anything, but eagerly leaned forward, ready to hear the tale the bassist had to tell. “You lot remember how we found that box of old makeup last night?” he began, “Well, I walked into the bathroom with you afterwards, Y/N...” *** Rick looked at himself in the mirror in the bathroom, carefully applying the makeup to his lips, and being extra careful to not get it on the blazer he was wearing. The drummer put on his best suit just to see how it would look with the makeup he was putting on. He thought he was doing a good job for the most part; he didn’t look half bad at all! It was far easier than he expected it to be, and wondered if he was good enough to help you with your makeup at times. Thinking of you seemed to have made you appear in the doorway next to him. Both of your hands were still covered in paint. “Sink,” was all you commanded of the drummer. He moved without a word and you began to wash your hands. At the same instant, Sav appeared nearby. He grabbed the doorframe and began to swing from it, leaving conspicuous handprints afterwards. “Aren’t you gonna wash up, too?” Rick crossed his arms to sass him. “Nah, I want the colors, they’re makin’ me feel- colorful...” Sav grinned, walking over to you at the sink, requesting, “C’mere.” You looked up, only to have your face taken in Sav’s paint-covered hands. He softly giggled as you squared your vision in on him with a sneer. “Rude,” you teased, then went back to washing your hands; paint now all over your face. “What’s really rude,” Rick pulled back the shower curtain and taking a step into the tub, “Is you two interrupting my makeup time! Good night!” He sat himself down in the tub and laid himself down as if he was going to sleep.

Before he had the chance to catch some shut-eye, you marched over to the tub and objected, “Rick, if you’re gonna sleep, I want a goodnight kiss first.” Without another word, Rick sat up and planted a kiss on your thigh (since it was closest to him). There was now a bright red imprint of his lips on your leg. “Thank you.” you smiled down at him, “Now goodnight.” “Don’t leave the water on, you hear?” Sav nagged him, pointing a colored finger, “You’ll drown." Rick chuckled with his eyes closed, “I’ll drink myself out. I'm in a drinkin mood, anyways." “Oh yeah? You haven’t got a straw or anything,” the intoxicated bassist continued to argue with him. “Then don’t let me drown! Get one!" “I’ll get you one later. I’ll just-“ Sav burped, and continued, “I’ll write a note or something.” “Sounds good, mate,” Rick slumped further into the tub and pulled the curtain closed, “Now you gonna stay here all night?” “Actually,” you noted out loud to yourself, different alcoholic emotions boiling up inside you, “I wanna go downstairs- I just need to see Steve- like right now...!" You turned on your heels, speeding past Sav and flying back down the stairs. *** “So that explains the paint on my face, and the paper in the hallway, and the lipstick, but what happened after that?” you asked Sav, as you were now slumped on top of Phil’s arm again. “Beats me,” Sav ran his still-painted hands through his hair, “That’s all I’ve got.” “But wait, if you said that Rick fell asleep in the bathtub...” Phil began his sentence, only for you and the other two men to exchange knowing looks with each other. All four of you immediately sprung up and rushed (as much as you could) up the stairs and into the bathroom. Upon getting there, Phil flung back the shower curtain to reveal a partially awake Rick, dressed in a suit, and still wearing the lipstick from the night before. “Mornin’,” he groaned as he stretched, then winced, “Ah, fuck- sleeping in here wasn’t the best idea for me neck.” Sav looked back at the paint on the doorframe and asked the drummer, “So then why did you sleep in here?” “Oh,” Rick looked around the tub, stating as-a-matter-of-factly, “The porcelain keeps the suit from wrinkling. I guess drunk me was very careful last night.” “I’ll say,” Joe complemented, “The lipstick’s still holding up pretty well.” Phil halted the conversation, “Wait, so you were in here when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night?” Rick chuckled, “Yeah, and let me tell you, for a smaller guy, you’ve got a big bladder.” “Wait,” you slowly turned and pointed at Joe, “I thought you said you slept in the bathtub-?” He gave you a cocky smirk in return, “I told you, ‘definitely not the bathtub’...” Rick sleepily laughed and pointed at you, “Ha- Y/N, you look like Joe!” “Why, just because of the shirt?” you inquired, pointing at Joe’s tank top on you. “And the paint!” Rick corrected you, “I can’t believe you guys didn’t wash it off yet!” In a second, you felt a rush of worry upon realizing that Rick hadn’t said anything about you and Steve yet. It made you suddenly come to the possible conclusion that he may not know about it all. “Wait,” Phil snapped his fingers, “So you do remember some stuff from last night?” “Yeah, a bit, I think. Why?” “Philip Kenneth Collen, don’t you fucking dare....” you growled at him in an almost pleading manner, rubbing your temples and grinding your teeth. “What do you remember?” Phil asked him, not giving any sort of reaction to your begging. Rick thought for a few seconds, clearly as hungover as the rest of you. It didn’t take him long to list off some brief happenings he recalled. “Well, I remember us singing Sweet, there was a lap dance, I remember- uh, being denied a bottle of scotch, there was, uh... there was lipstick... and did I try to ice-skate on pieces of cardboard down the hall...?” “Is that why there’s cardboard all down the hallway?” you motioned towards the door. Rick gave you a big proud smile and a nod in response. “So...” Joe looked around, definitely looking eager, “What’s the last thing you remember before falling asleep?” Rick rested his head back on the tub again, thinking as hard as his hungover mind would let him. You hoped to every god there was that he didn’t say anything about Steve. “Just Phil comin’ in here and having a long piss, that’s all.” came the verdict. “You sure you didn’t hear-“ Phil anxiously began to ask him, but got a hand slapped over his mouth by you. “No!” you yelled on impulse, sending more daggers through your burned-out head. All eyes were now on you, and silence fell. For a few tense seconds, you stared into Phil’s eyes, sending him visual messages of both threats and desperate requests. “...what the hell happened last night?” Rick broke the silence in a tone of utter confusion, knowing that something more serious than what he remembered had taken place. You pulled your hand back from Phil’s face, “Yuck, Phil, come on!” “You licked her hand, didn’t you?” asked Sav. “Yes,” Phil confirmed, and continued without missing a beat, “And I’m glad you asked that, Rick, cos' I know what happened after Y/N and Sav paid you a visit last night.” “Phil, if you love me in any way, shape, or form, you will not tell Rick what happened,” you begged to him as you began to walk out the bathroom door, heading back downstairs to wallow in more of your shameful hangover, “I refuse to believe it happened until there’s hard proof.” “Well what more proof do you want? A positive pregnancy test?” Phil shrugged, but suddenly slapped his own hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just said. You shot him an angry look. You were too tired to have it out with him, so you stumbled away. Right about now, you were ready to give up and accept the fact that you probably did shag Steve. Phil turned to Rick, gaping, and slowly began to speak again, "Right... so last night, after those two were in here, I think that’s when they came back downstairs..." *** "So why are you tying up my hair again?" a drunk Steve asked Phil, who was happily putting his hair into pigtails. "Because I knew you’d look pretty, and I knew you wouldn't object, either," the other guitarist laughed evilly as he finished tying the second bundle of golden locks together, "There, you're all done now." "Cool... I think," Steve tilted his head, staring at himself in the mirror on the wall as footsteps began pounding their way down the stairs. "I think you look pretty, Steve. Pretty, pretty, pretty," Joe giggled as he was flipped off by the pig-tailed guitarist. As this happened, you trampled the stairs in your descent, calling out, “Steve- Steve! Come here!” More than happy to be ripped away from Phil’s pigtailed plans, he let you run up to him as you belted out, “I’ve got an idea...!” He didn’t say anything, but he did let you whisper something in his ear. The second he heard your idea, his eyes lit up and an evil smirk crossed his face. Steve was always in the mood for causing terror. You pulled back and exchanged the same look of understanding with the guitarist. He stared at you with a sort of appreciation, and without another word, swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal style now. With a quick smooch to your lips, he began carrying you up the stairs as you giggled with some sort of glee. Phil’s jaw dropped, looking at Joe with astonishment in the process. The singer’s face mirrored the exact same expression. “I should’ve bloody known...” Phil gasped in astonishment, “She’s been eyeing him up real funny all night... I can’t fucking believe it!” Sav came down the stairs slowly, his life depending on the railing as he dragged his hand on it. He left a long streak of blue paint as he did so. “What’s gotten into their pants?” “Each other, apparently,” Joe scoffed, taking a sip of a beer he found, “Lord knows how the hell that happened.” *** You were all sitting back on the couches in the living room, all seemingly regretting the night before (you knew you most certainly were). Everyone knew that the end of Phil’s story was the true ending of the night. Now there was really a dead end to the whole tale. “I can’t believe it,” you whispered with sorrowful acceptance, “Me and Steve...? What happened next?” Joe scoffed, “Well that’s kind of a stupid question.” “That’s where it ends, Y/N. I went up to bed afterwards, only to hear-“ Phil cleared his throat to impersonate you and Steve, “‘Oh, Steve! Yes!’ coming from my room! So after an immense helping of disapproval, I slept in Rick’s room.” “No, no, that can’t be it!” you insisted, “Guys, what really happened next?” “Can’t say,” Joe mumbled, holding his head. “Sorry, mate,” Rick apologized. Sav remained silent, but looked apologetic. “That can’t be where it ends...!” you persisted, “Sav? Tell me I’m right!” Sav rolled in his lips, and darted his eyes away from you. You continued to stare at him suspiciously, but no one else thought anything of it. Phil tried to finalize your fate sympathetically, “Give it up, Y/N, at least it’s all over now.” “But it still happened! What am I gonna say to Steve when he wakes up? You know what- no. It didn’t happen, I refuse to believe that it did.” “How much more proof do you want?” Rick shrugged, pointing at Phil and Sav, trying to make you face the terrible truth, “They both heard ya, and Steve even gave you a hickey.” You hung your head, thinking you might just decide to cry out of shame. Yes, you loved Steve, just as you loved anyone else in the band, but you never had (or planned to have) any sort of sexual relationship with them. Even if you ever did, you were afraid it would ruin everything your friendship had stood for. “Sav, what’s wrong, mate?” Joe asked out of the blue. The bassist in question was still avoiding the conversation, staying eerily silent and weaving his hands together. At this point, you noticed that he was also blushing. “That wasn’t Steve.” he stated bluntly, still not looking at you. “What wasn’t Steve?” you asked as you stared at him dead on, your heart now pounding. “That hickey... that wasn’t Steve,” he paused, “That was me.” Immediately you gasped and slapped a hand over the mark on your neck. “What?!” the other three exclaimed. Joe and Rick immediately hissed at the searing pain their outbursts caused. “Sav, what the hell?!” you scolded him, finally happy that you weren’t the only one being called out for their mistakes. “Now before you say anything else,” he finally looked at you and held up a hand, “It was your idea.” Your face fell, softly asking him, “What do you mean?” “Well, after you and Steve-you know- and only Joe and I were downstairs, you actually came back down, too- wipe that smug look off your face, Joe. You’re not entirely innocent here, either.” *** You stumbled down the stairs, giggling to yourself. Your mission was now accomplished, and Steve was asleep upstairs. In a word, you were pleased. In two words, you were still drunk. Records were still being played when you returned to the living room, and Joe currently had his copy of Sheer Heart Attack on the turntable. “She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettos)”flowed softly from its speakers. “There’s our killer queen!” Joe cooed to you happily. He was now sprawled out on the couch, two empty beer bottles on the floor beside him. Sav wasn’t too far off. The paints on his hands were now dry, and he was reclined in a chair across the room, twiddling a bottle in his hand. They both looked ready for bed, and it made you wonder how they held out for this long. The singer slurred on with an interested smirk, “You two have fun?" Sav spoke up with a scoff-like laugh, “Sure sounded like it!" “Oh, you know it,” you gave them a wink, setting yourself down on the couch next to Joe, “Guess Phil finally ditched, huh?” “Yeah, the wanker went to bed- but you’ve lost your pants!” he gestured to your black underwear, made room for you to lay down with him, and took you in his arms like a teddy bear with a sigh of appeasement. You reached back and playfully poked at Joe’s dimple, “Steve's fault." “Well, that’s no good,” Sav objected, pushing the footrest of the chair in and returning to a sitting position. “What isn’t?” Joe asked him, "Steve gettin' into it with her?" “No, that cuddlin' you're doing- it’s boring. You stay like that, you’ll fall asleep on me!” He was certainly right about this. With you in Joe’s arms and his face nuzzling into your hair like some sort of animal, he was already falling asleep. “What do you want us to do?” you chuckled, thinking that Sav was only jealous of his friend. Joe mumbled happily into your hair, “How 'bout you just do me like Steve, and we’ll be good.” At this point, you noticed the feeling of something pressing lightly against the bottom of your back; a certain weight where Joe’s hips were, and a weight that wasn’t there at first. “Joe,” you whined at him, “You’re fucking gross.” He chuckled, then slowly moved his hips to lightly rub himself against you, a low quiet moan rising in his throat from the temporary pleasure it provided. “Ah- Joe!” you protested again, reaching back and hitting him as best as you could. You wiggled out of his embrace as he burst into giggles like he had just accomplished something. Sav, on the other hand, cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re even hornier than when you’re sober!” you grabbed a pillow and whacked Joe with it. “You’re one to talk! You just shagged Steve!” he smirked evilly, "Why not me?" “Ha! The only way I’ll do you is by some miracle, or at least a dare,” you threw yourself onto the other couch, picking up a nearly empty beer bottle and pouring whatever was left into your mouth. Sav’s eyes finally lit up, “That’s what we oughta do- truth or dare!” “Ooh, sounds like terrible fun,” you turned yourself so you were sitting upside-down on the couch, “Sav, truth or dare?” “How come he gets to go first?” asked Joe, “I wanna get down to business!” “Dare,” Sav declared, ignoring the singer’s objections. Immediately, your intoxicated mind thought of a scheme. Despite the plan you and Steve had executed ever so perfectly, you were still a child seeking more terror. You knew Joe wanted you, and it was no secret either, so how exactly would you use Sav to reign terror over him? You wanted something to rub in Joe’s face- something that would leave a mark on him. “I dare you to-" you clumsily pointed to your neck, "Gimme a hickey.” Joe's jaw dropped with offense and jealousy; exactly as you had expected. Sav began to laugh rather loudly at the request, and stood up, now understanding your true intention of making Joe jealous. “C’mere,” he motioned with his hand. More than happy to obey the command, you strutted over to him and paused, waiting for him to make the first move. He took a step so your bodies were practically pressing together, moved your hair out of the way on your neck, and dove right in. You smiled with glee, taking in the feeling of Sav’s mouth and tongue moving over your skin (as well as Joe’s groans of protest coming from a few feet away). As the bassist sucked on your neck without hesitation, it only made you think of one thing: “Wow, there’s definitely gonna be a mark after this.” *** Rick and Phil were staring at Sav with their mouths open in shock. You kept a hand over the mark he left on your neck to prevent everyone from looking any more than they already had. “So, wait, if it was you who gave me this, why didn’t you say anything before when we said it was Steve?” you asked Sav, more suspicious than outraged now. “I- ah, didn’t... wanna say anything...” he looked away, beginning to blush again, “I guess I was too embarrassed." “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is you, Joe,” Rick turned his attention back to the singer, “You fuckin dry humped her!” Joe exclaimed in his own defense, “Yeah, and I don’t even remember it! It’s not my fault- I was drunk and horny!” “See! Just like me and Steve! I don’t remember shagging him, either! So I guess we’re even.” “Even Stephen,” Phil scoffed. You slumped into the couch more, staring blankly ahead and realizing, “So I pretty much got to second base with all of you last night...?” “I think you made it all the way home with Steve,” Rick pointed out. “Thanks, Rick,” you kept your head hung, “I feel like a slut.” “You mean you’re not?” Phil joked, only to be hit in the arm by Sav.

Just then, you all heard the sound of movement upstairs. Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold; Steve was awake now. Everyone's jaws hit the floor, and for a second, you thought they were all afraid of what you were fearing. "He's awake..." Rick announced in a sing-song voice, teasing you. “Oh no...” you gasped quietly, “Oh no, oh no! Oh god, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna say to him?!” “Hate to break it to ya, but this isn’t necessarily our problem!” Joe shrugged in a panic, hearing Steve’s footsteps get closer. “But guys! You’ve gotta help me! You’re his best friends! What should I say to him?!” “Just act like it didn’t happen! Maybe he doesn’t remember-?” Sav proposed. Rick suggested, “Just straight up ask him if he remembers anything!” “Just get out of here!” Phil made a swatting motion towards the other room. “None of those are gonna do me any good! It still happened!” you yelled at them in a whisper, “I have to live that with that fact, even if neither of us have any memory of it to live with!” It was too late for any salvation; Steve was already at the top of the stairs. The band members held their breath, and- without words or warning- all scrambled out of the living room. “No!” you whispered, “Guys- wait!” You caught Rick by the wrist when he stood up. “Rick, c’mon, please don’t leave me here!” you begged. He yanked out of your grip and apologetically condemned you, “Sorry, Y/N, but this is your business.” As the four of them retreated, you tried to bolt after them. As soon as you hit the doorway, however, Phil turned around and pushed you back on the couch nearby as slowly as he could. It was so sudden that you were on your back before you knew it, and they were all gone. “Hey!” you called out after them, “Assholes!” Steve’s voice suddenly came to your ears (rather closely, too), “What’s their problem?” You jumped, “Ah- Steve!” He had a silent step, and made it down the stairs and across the room without making a sound. He also looked just as he did a little while ago when you first woke up; scraggly hair, lipstick stains all over his face, but no visible evidence of a hangover. “Hey, wow,” you forced an awkward chuckle at him, “Nice- uh, nice- lipstick...” Steve slumped down onto a chair and grumbled, “Thanks. Who even did this to me? Doesn’t look like it was you.” “That was, that was Rick- I’m assuming... I don’t remember that happening and I don’t think he does, either. He’s still got the lipstick on, too.” He played off the remark with a tired smile, “Oh, nice... last night really was something, wasn’t it?” Heat rushed to your face, and you tried to look away without being conspicuous. “Ha ha... yeah... really something!” you faked your amusement for him, now wondering if he was implying anything about the previous night. Steve leaned forward and asked, “Do you remember Sav and the paint? That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” Still blushing, you darted your eyes around the room and nodded in agreement, “Mm hmm, yeah... he was like a toddler or something.” He sunk back into the chair again and closed his eyes, reminiscing about the events of the previous night. For a second you thought you were in the clear, and that maybe he didn’t remember the specific event that Phil and Sav did.

That illusion was shattered when his eyes snapped open, whispering “Wait a minute”, and sitting back up. Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach.

“How did our plan go?” he questioned quietly, figuring that the others were still somewhere nearby and listening. “P-plan?” you stuttered, partially afraid of what he meant, but partially caught off guard, “What plan?” “You know-” he whispered again, thinking you remembered, “It was your idea. Did they believe it? We were convincing enough?" You darted your eyes down to the floor, confused, but also embarrassed. 'Convincing'? What did that mean? "Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember!” he smiled playfully. As you stared at him with fearful confusion in your eyes and redness on your cheeks, his smile was suddenly wiped away. He muttered under his breath as his face fell, "Oh... you don't remember... bloody hell, okay, this is gonna be hard to explain..." "Then explain it, because I'm really fucking confused..." your voice wavered with a sarcastic chuckle. Steve sighed and leaned forward, slowly weaving his hands together. He didn't know where to begin. "This is one of the few things I remember from last night..." he started off, "And there's no way to make this sound... good... in any way, but you came up with the idea of us pretending to shag- like making noises and shit like that- to trick the others into thinking we really did. For some reason I thought it was a great idea, and I'm pretty sure I carried you upstairs, too.” Instantly, a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. It wasn't real; you didn't shag Steve, and he could even tell the guys himself! You blew out a big sigh of relief, and slumped back into the couch, closing your eyes. "Oh, god," you slowly panted, "What a huge relief- I suppose we were really convincing, then." "Why d'you say that?" You laughed tiredly, now feeling rather thankful for your raging hangover, "The guys are all convinced that we fucked last night. Only Phil and Sav seem to remember it, though. They've been hounding me about it all morning. I kept telling them it couldn't be true- and I was right!" "What, would it be so bad if we actually did?" he teased you in a hushed voice. "Well, I've had to live my day so far under the impression it did happen. I was teased, ridiculed, embarrassed, and felt guilty about it. I was afraid it'd ruin our friendship if it was true... I was kinda hoping you didn't remember so we could just forget..." The red in your face returned all over again. Steve, however, didn't seem bothered. "If you really want to, we can keep pretending it happened and steer into the act; give em' what they want." "What? No!" you laughed out loud, standing up, "You're crazy, Clark! I think I better go tell the others the bad news. They'll be disappointed-ha!" You walked across the room to go find the others and disclose unto them the "bad news", giving Steve a pat on the shoulder when you passed him. Once you were gone and out of sight, Steve also blew out a big sigh of relief. "She didn't remember anything," he thought to himself, "That was a close one." While he knew you two didn't go all the way the previous night, he figured if you didn't remember it, then it was for the best you didn't find out. It was nothing serious; just a bit of fooling around, really. Just a bit of drunked-up teasing, and nothing more. The guys had no proof that anything actually happened between you two, and you were about to tell them the partial truth anyway, so why say something to reignite the suspicion? After all, they were all hungover to begin with, so there wasn't much memory of the whole affair, either. "Thank god for these hangovers,"Steve thought, "Thank god. I couldnt've asked for anything more." ~Epilogue~ When you got to the top of the stairs, Steve put you on your feet and spun you around. "You ready?" he whispered, childish excitement in his voice. You nodded with equal excitement, "Take me away, Clark." The two of you began eagerly walking hand-in-hand to whatever room you pleased, but before either of you had the chance to pick one, the bathroom door opened, Rick popped his head out and commanded, "Stop right there!" Both you and Steve froze and looked at him. He still had his lipstick and his suit on, and a kind of serious look overtaking his face. A finger was kept in a pointing position at you, a few large pieces of cardboard were underneath his other arm, and he slowly took steps down the hall to meet you. Neither of you moved, but both of you waited. When Rick got to you, he didn't say a word, but did take Steve's face in his hands (dropping the cardboard in the process), and proceeded to the kiss the man all over his face.

Steve remained silent, and let Rick have his way until he decided to stop. When he did, there were several lipstick stains on various parts of the blonde's face.

"Thanks, mate," Steve muttered sarcastically as Rick kicked some of the cardboard pieces in different directions. He then stepped on two of them, trying to slide down the hall on them as if they were ice skates. When he got back to the bathroom, he went back inside and shut the door again.

Without another word, you turned Steve's face toward you, gave him a peck on the cheek as Rick had done, and kicked open the door behind you (which just so happened to be Phil's bedroom). You both fell back into the room, giggling with makeshift lust in your eyes.

After all, you had to make this authentic, right?

[thirstystarkey]

SUMMER FAMILY GATHERINGS • RAFE CAMERON

Prompt: It is the hottest day at Outer Banks and Y/N’s family has a tradition of gathering with the Cameron’s for a sunday lunch, but this time Y/N wants something more than just dessert.

Warnings: This is is pure filth, can’t help myself but to thirst over Rafe.

“We’re going to be late Y/N!” Y/N hears her mom scream from downstairs which earns her a loud sign. Today was one of the hottest day at Outer Banks and Y/N wasn’t really in the mood for a long lunch that probably would end up lasting the whole day at the Cameron’s house, even if she had Sarah to chat and Rafe to mess with.

“I’m coming!” The girl warned running down the stairs in a purple summer dress who fell short at her thighs, most of the days her mom would talk back at her choice of clothing but since it was boiling outside she let it skip.

The car ride was rather quick and in a few minutes they arrived, greeted by Rose and Wheezie, the younger sister.

“You look beautiful as always!” Rose complemented sweetly. “Sarah is outside and Rafe is in the living room.” She told Y/N.

“Thank you so much Rose, I’ll say hey to them.” Y/N smiled, walking away from the chatting adults.

Y/N made her away silently to the living room, watching Rafe from a far sitting alone looking at his phone, he was wearing his pink salmon polo and white shorts, looking hot like he always did and Y/N caught herself biting her lip and smirking at him, all alone away from their parents gaze.

“Hi, Rafe.” The words came out of her mouth extremely sweetly as she stood up in front of him. Rafe’s eyes left his screen and traced her body from her naked legs up to her face, already looking down at him with a innocent smile. This was one of the only times Y/N was taller than him.

“Look who it is, princess Y/N.” Rafe smiled placing his phone down his pocket. He was teasing her like always, trying to make Y/N crumble and give in. He leaned back into the couch watching her.

“Always so nice, aren’t you..” Y/N gibed also leaning down to him, giving him a nice view of her chest in the process. “I’m gonna say hi to Sarah, see you at the table.” Y/N had a victorious grin on her face when she heard Rafe sigh loudly. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek, dangerously close to his lips before walking away.

Once at the table Y/N debated where she should sit, in front of Rafe or next to him but he quickly decided for her, sitting next to the girl in the purple dress. Sarah was right in front of them as their parents were too.

Everything went smoothly, they talked about adult boring stuff while Rafe, Y/N and Sarah ate silently, that until Rose decided to ask Y/N about future college applications directing all the attention to her, she could feel Rafe’s eyes burning her.

“I don’t know yet. I though about going to New York and start fresh.” Y/N smiled at Rose. “Clean slate.” She looked at Rafe, on porpose.

“Are you trying to run away from something?” He asked mocking her.

“Should I?” Y/N sassed back.

“You should take me with you before I drown him.” Sarah laughed and Y/N thanked god for it.

“Makes two of us!” Wheezie said.

Eventually the conversation took another turn and Y/N relaxed in her chair, talking softly with Sarah about John B and the pogue adventures she was having, thats when Y/N felt a slender touch on her inner thigh that made her choke on her water.

“You ok?” Sarah questioned without knowing the motive her friend choke.

“Y-yes.” Y/N answered quickly.

She knew Rafe was trying to get the best out of her, like he always did. Always teasing each other in public like a cruel sick joke only they understood, but never going any further than a few touched here and there, leaving the other wanting more every time.

Done with it Y/N decided today was the day she would finally win in this secret twisted game Rafe and her played in front of everyone, pretending to drop her napkin she knelt to catch it, making sure Rafe’s eyes were glued on her movements, she made sure he saw how close her breath was to his crotch as she reached for the fabric. The whole thing ended in seconds but to him it kept playing in his head over and over, letting his mind wonder about how’d feel having Y/N suck him off.

“Stop it.” He whispered, his hot breath hiting her skin, as he gripped tightly on her elbow.

“I’m not doing anything.” Y/N looked through her eyelashes at him, playing innocent.

“Fuck you.” Rafe whispered annoyed, feeling his shorts tighten around his painful boner.

“Why don’t you fuck me isntead?” Y/N dared winking, discretely at Rafe.

“N-now?” He asked looking at her and back at their families.

“Do you got something better to do?” Y/N said crossing her arms.

“You know what, I should show Y/N the pictures I took on my trip to New York last year.” Rafe turned to the adults with a slight friendly smile, still squeezing Y/N thigh under the table.

“That’s a good idea, we’ll call you guys back when dessert is served.” Ward agreed and Rafe was fast to get up along with Y/N.

Y/N could feel her arousal already making his presence as Rafe’s strong and eager grip on her arm pulled her into his room. Once safe from everyone’s eyes, in his room the green eyed boy locked his door but did nothing about his open balcony, directly above where his parents and hers talked and finished lunch.

“You love acting like a little slut around people don’t you?” He said griping her cheeks, making Y/N face him.

“You love it, admit it already” Y/N spoke, teasing him.

“Oh baby I fucking love it, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard.”

And with that he pushed her down his bed, ghosting over her body until Y/N turned him over as he rested his back against the bed frame, she sat in his lap, each leg on each side of his hips, due to the lack of clothes her core was directly placed on top of his growing boner, making Y/N whine silently at the friction he created teasing her, slowly rolling his hips up.

“You know what purple usually means?” Rafe smirked maliciously as he dragged the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders, brushing his lips slightly over her hot skin, almost kissing it. Y/N was impatient moving around her hips trying to get more. “It usually means sexual frustration baby girl.” He teased Y/N to her breaking point, tracing his fingers underneath her dress until he got a strong grip of her ass, leaving his handprints on her skin for sure. “Do I leave you frustrated Y/N?” He asked pulling the girl closer, making her moan in the process, as he whispered against her neck sucking softly underneath her ear lobe.

“Yes Rafe.” The words came out shaky from her mouth. “Please do something, touch me Rafe.” Y/N begged sweetly looking into his eyes. Both full of need and desire.

“Frustrated enough that you touch yourself thinking about me and everything you want me to do you you, all the nastiest dirtiest things you wish happened every time I tease you?” His voice was so low Y/N could feel the vibrations down her spine making her ache for more.

“Fuck, Rafe.” Y/N whined hiding her head in the crook of his neck but Rafe was quick enough to pull her hair back making the young woman look into his eyes. He was loving everything about teasing Y/N.

“I asked you a question, I demand an answer sweetheart.” He order, like he usually did, playing with her, avoiding every place she craved him to touch.

“Yes Rafe, frustrated enough like that.” Y/N admited with a loud moan but Rafe placed his hand over her mouth to silence them.

“As much as I’d love to hear you scream my name you’ll need to be quiet, you wouldn’t want our dear families to hear you scream like a whore for me, now would you?” His words were enough to leave her dripping wet, she nodded slowly. “Good girl.” Rafe winked at her.

He pulled his hand away from her mouth and almost instantly his lips collided harshly with hers, touch fighting for dominance which Rafe quickly won since he had her wrapped around her finger. He got up with Y/N wrapped around his waist and walked clumsy to his desk, get rid of the papers on top of it that ended up flying everywhere.

Y/N purple dress now pooked at her waist left her completely on show for him, her pink lace panties already glistening in the light that came through the white curtains. Rafe knelt in front of her, pulling by her thighs to the edge of the table, her legs spread unable to close them to get some friction to please her made Y/N body shiver.

“Look at you princess, so wet and I barely touched you.” Rafe whispered in a low moan almost to himself, as he dragged carefully her panties down her legs, making sure to keep them in this back pocket. “I’m gonna eat you out and you’ll be the good girl you are and won’t make a noise, got it?” He asked kissing her thighs, surely leaving a trail of hickeys behind.

“Y-yes.” Y/N closed her eyes shut once she felt Rafe index finger touch her, spreading evenly her wetness all over. Her natural instinct was to moan but she knew she couldn’t so she bit her lip and griped the desk beneath her.

Rafe looked at her as he slowly draw circle figures on her clit, which made her back arch and her hips move forward trying to get more. He got the message and decided to give it to her, slipping in his index finger as he brought his mouth close to her clit, painfully licking it.

Y/N head was spinning with all the pleasure, suddenly the table wasn’t enough to her so she moved her hand down to Rafe’s hair pulling on it as she moved his head closer to her. He moaned on her core due to his hair being pulled, enjoying the sensation. Her eyes full with tears with all the overstimulation opened to look at him, he looked extremely hot and beautiful so much that she whined extremely low at the sight making Rafe add his middle finger inside her, scissoring them inside her getting a nice feel of her hot tight velvety walls. It was enough for her, his fingers brought her over the edge quickly, the pleasure and the stinging pain of being stretched out with the slow movements of his tongue over her swollen clit made Y/N cum hard on his fingers, he felt it, his tight her walls clenched his fingers, it made his cock twist in his shorts.

“Such a good girl.” He breathed over her sensitive pussy, as he licked her clean but Y/N small hand quickly pushed him away. “That sensitive?” Rafe asked cockily, standing up. She nodded watching him.

“I still want your cock though.” She bluntly confessed, not caring anymore about how dirty her words sounded.

“Can you handle it?” He laughed lowly picking her up again. Bringing the both of them to the bed.

“Please Rafe.” Y/N begged over his lips.

That was enough for him. Even if he dreamed of having her pretty lips wrapped around his cock as she choked on it he knew they probably didn’t have enough time for everything so with that Rafe made sure Y/N fell into his bed on her knees, he parted her legs easily and undid his belt, dropping his boxers along with his shorts down his ankles. He bit his lip so hard he thought it would bleed with the sight of having Y/N so vulnerable and needy in front of him. She looked to hot to him like his, he wanted to photograph the image forever in his memory. His cock slowly teasing her entrance with the tip made Y/N grip down on the sheets. He slipped inside her so easily it made him moan low at the feeling. Y/N arms became limp but before she fell more Rafe pulled her back against his chest, holding her up against him with one arm around her shoulders, her hot breath hitting his jawline along with how tight her pussy was clenching his cock made Rafe want to scream dirty profanities.

“Can I move?” He asked in a more sweet voice, making sure she wasn’t in pain.

“Yes.” Her voice was so raspy and low that if Rafe wasn’t so close to her he wouldn’t be able to hear her.

“Fuck princess, you’re taking me so well.” He praised her grinding his hips against hers, Y/N could feel him so deep inside her it should be a sin. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck, f-fuck m-me please.” Y/N threw her head over his shoulder closing her eyes as his arm moved close to her throat.

“I’ve waited so long to hear those words leave your pretty mouth.” His voice drove shivers down her spine driving her closer and closer to her second orgasm.

Rafe’s right hand snaked down her body, giving some attention to her covered breasts before he moved them lower to her painfully sensite clit, moving his calloused digits against the bundle of nerves.

“I’m so close.” Y/N said feeling her whole body shake.

“Wait for me.” Rafe whimpered snapping his hips harshly against hers. The loud laughter from outside covering most of the sounds.

“I can’t, please-” She was so lost in his touch she couldn’t finish a coherent phrase.

“You won’t cum unless I say so fucking brat” Rafe’s words along with his cock inside her applying enough pressure against her g-spot made Y/N tighten around his thick shaft.

“Please daddy.” It slipped out of her mouth so easily and naturally that Rafe almost came. It changed everything.

“Yeah, you want daddy to let you cum, beg like the little whore you are then.” He said directly her ear, tighting his arm around her throat.

“Please let me cum daddy, I’ve been so good to you, please daddy, fuck, let me cum. I need it so bad.” Even if her words were dirty it came out of her mouth so sweet Rafe swore he could melt.

“Fuck I’m not wearing a condom.” He remembered all of a sudden. But he couldn’t pull out.

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill.” Y/N reassured him, gripping on his arm. “Please daddy.” She turned her face to look at him.

He kissed her trying to keep both of them quiet at he came undone inside her, filling her with his hot creamy load. Y/N’s shook as she came around his cock. Rafe stayed inside her for a few minutes grinding ever so slowly riding both of their highs before pulling out and dressing back his boxers along with his white shorts.

They both fell into the bed, to tired to even move. Rafe pulled her dress back into place as he moved her leg over his waist cuddling her. His lips found their way back to hers, getting lost in a passionate long open mouthed kiss. His hands pulled her close to his body keeping her there while her hands kept playing with his messy hair. The whole room smelled like them, expensive cologne with mint and sex.

A loud knock on the door got their attention, it was Rafe’s dad warning them about the dessert like he said he would.

“Dessert’s served guys, we’re waiting come on!” He said on the other said of the door making Y/N’s cheeks heat up.

“We’ll go down in a moment. Thanks dad!” Rafe said loud enough for his dad to hear and Y/N hid her head on his neck.

He kissed her on more time before getting up, pulling her up as well. Quickly fixing his messy hair.

“You have something that’s mine.” Y/N said, referring to the panties he kept on his back pocket.

“I do and I’ll keep them until I please babe.” He winked at Y/N.

Once they were back on the table Y/N felt hot and bothered again when Rafe’s slender touch began to tease her again, brushing over her arms and her back or even the inside of her thighs, tracing the hickeys he left on her skin as he talked to her father. She felt so dirty with their secret yet so powerful.

“So, did you liked to pictures?” Rose asked innocently bitting into her cake slice.

“Y-yes, very lovely.” Y/N smiled.

“Oh Rose, you have no idea how much she enjoyed my stories. I might even take her with me next time.” Rafe said looking at Y/N with a dangerously beautiful smile.

[seongsangi]

babydoll

pairing: san x reader

summary: you send a few pictures to san, wanting to rile him up while he’s at practice. he comes home and you know you’re in for it.

word count: 2.4k

genre: quick smutttt what else bro

When you finally get a day off from work, you spend your time spring cleaning around the apartment. Sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, doing the laundry, cleaning the kitchen and the bathroom, watering your favorite plants out on the balcony, anything you can think of, it gets done. Cleaning is always such a chore to start, but once you do, it’s sort of therapeutic and you can’t stop until you’re satisfied. After a while, you make your way into the closet, groaning as you see your clothes are strewn everywhere. As you’re hanging up shirts, hoodies, and sweatshirts, you come across a drawer you haven’t rummaged through in a while. A fun idea pops into your head as you pull out one of the babydolls you bought a while back but never got the chance to wear.

It’s red, San’s favorite color on you, with a bit of lace around your breasts and a high slit on the left. The slit is your favorite part about the babydoll, making you feel even more sexy as you check yourself out in the mirror. He texted you earlier that he was having a hard time learning these new dance moves and is frustrated with himself for continually messing up. San doesn’t know what’s coming to him.

You prop your phone up on the bed, getting into position to take a few pictures. This is actually your first time doing this and you feel a bit shy even though you know you’re alone in the room. Sitting on your knees, you lean forward a bit and push your breasts together with your arms, setting the timer on the camera. “Damn, is that me?” It comes out better than you thought and you’re in awe of yourself, feeling a rush of excitement as you take a few more. You try your best to get the slit in the picture, not trying to reveal too much since you didn’t put on panties underneath.

you [7:30 pm] *Attachment: 2 images*

Shit, you can’t believe you just did that without any warning. You don’t know how he’ll react since he’s at practice with the other members. You hope no one else is around to see when he checks his phone. As you’re waiting for a text back, you take a few more while laying down. This gives you a better chance to show off the slit. As an added tease, you pull the strap down and grab one breast, knowing it’ll drive him crazy. Your heart is racing as the minutes pass by, anxious for his response.

san <3 [7:46 pm] … o hmy god

                            What the fuck are you kidding me

                            Someone almost saw that

You don’t know what he means by that, it almost sounds like he didn’t appreciate you sending those to him. Your heart drops a little, thinking this could have gone better.

you [7:47 pm] did u not like it :(

san <3 [7:48 pm] I fucking loved it baby don’t say that. You look so sexy. How come I’ve never seen you wear that before?

you [7:50 pm] i just found it while i was cleaning and i thought of you i have more if u want me to send them…

san <3 [7:51 pm] Babe wait I’m at practice right now I can’t handle this

You send another one, ignoring what he said since you feel like teasing him a bit more.

san <3 [7:56 pm] What did I say? Stop misbehaving before I come home right now.

you [7:57 pm] i know what u said… u have to practice u cant come home early

You send one that shows off the slit, biting your lip in anticipation.

san <3 [8:00 pm] You’re not wearing panties are you? Fuck you’re so naughty. You’re gonna get it when I get home and don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The thought of him ravaging you prompts you to send the one with the strap down and your hand on your breast.

you [8:02 pm] i miss you, i wish this was your hand

san <3 [8:05 pm] It will be my hand. Don’t take that off. You better be wearing it when I get there.

You prop your phone up again to take another picture. You sit on your knees and lean forward, head resting on your arms as you arch your back and poke your ass out, sending him an image you know he’ll love.

you [8:08 pm] anything for you baby

san <3 [8:15 pm] You’re being such a bad girl fuck I want you so bad 

You’ve got something you know will rile him up even more. You lay down on the bed again and record a short video, pulling the straps down and giving your breasts a squeeze before trailing the camera down to the slit. You pull it to the side a bit and run your fingers over your core for a few seconds before ending the video.

you [8:18 pm] then come get me

He leaves you on read, but you know you’ve got him right where you want him. Your mind is racing with thoughts of what he’ll do to you when he gets home. Maybe you should do this more often. You put on matching red lace panties, leaving the babydoll on as you continue to clean up the closet. It’s a little past 9 now, around the time when San usually comes home. You head to the kitchen to get his dinner ready, but you have a feeling he’ll probably skip it.

When you hear the keys in the door, your heart starts to race again but you don’t turn around. You hear him throw his stuff down and you’re about to greet him, but his hands are already on your waist, pulling you away from the stove and pushing you against the island in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you did that shit earlier,” he huffs angrily, hands roaming your body.

“Wait, I’m getting dinner ready,” you try to turn around, but his hands keep you in place.

“You didn’t wait when I told you I was at practice. Besides, I’ve got something else I want tonight,” his hand tugs on your hair as the other one runs along your waist. You’re already turned on, loving the fact that you knew he would skip dinner and go straight to you.

He pulls your hair harder, craning your neck up. “You know Seonghwa was standing right next to me when I opened my phone, what if he saw?”

“Mmm, maybe I wanted him to see,” you know it’s a lie but you tease anyway, which earns you a hard slap on your ass to shut you up.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you. Why are you wearing panties? I didn’t tell you to put them on.” He quickly pulls them down your legs and runs his fingers along your core, feeling how wet you are for him. When he finds your clit, your legs start to tremble, unsure if you can hold yourself up with the way he’s rubbing you so harshly right off the bat.

“What’s the matter? You were acting out earlier, I told you you were gonna get it.” He turns you around, keeping his hand on your clit. Your hand holds onto his while also gripping the edge of the counter, trying to keep yourself steady under his ministrations. You watch him as his eyes roam your body, licking his lips at the sight of you. He takes in the outfit you’re wearing, the red lace accentuating your beautiful skin perfectly. You drive him crazy and he loves that about you.

His free hand inches up your body, pulling a strap down and placing kisses around your breast. He leaves a few hickeys before capturing a nipple in his mouth, biting down a bit too hard to make you squeal. He gives the other one the same attention, admiring your perfect mounds littered with love marks. He pulls back a bit and says, “You got me so hard looking at those pictures of you, I wanted to leave as soon as I got your text.” You take the initiative to push yourself onto the counter, spreading your legs for him.

“You’re here now, what are you gonna do about it?” You love that look on his face, getting even more excited that he’s looking at you with those dark, lust filled eyes you know all too well. You’re pushing his buttons on purpose because you love when he’s rough with you and he wastes no time in undressing himself, hard member springing out of his sweats. You bite your lip as he lines himself up to your entrance, watching as he pushes in slowly, loving the way he fills you up so perfectly. He grabs your hips, pulling them closer to the edge and begins fucking his frustrations out. You brace yourself on the counter, moaning wantonly as he hits that sweet spot of yours almost immediately. He angles himself so that he can continue hitting that spot, holding onto your hips harder. His brows are furrowed and his mouth is open, groaning as he focuses his energy on driving you wild. Your breasts are bouncing with every thrust he makes, throwing your head back as his hips drive into yours nonstop.

“Oh my god, right there, fuuuck,” you moan over the sound of his hips slapping against your thighs. You bring a hand down to rub at your clit, wanting to heighten the pleasure as San takes you higher and higher. He loves watching you pleasure yourself as he fucks you but he doesn’t want you to cum yet.

“Get off the counter,” he tells you, shoving your hand away. You huff at him, close to reaching your high until he told you to move. You don’t make a move, staring him down as he’s waiting for you to do what he says. He cocks an eyebrow at you, asking you if you really want to do this. When you narrow your eyes at him, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you off the counter, and carrying you to the living room. He bends your body over the arm of the couch, lifting a leg up to put your knee on the arm. He slips back into your core and spanks your ass at the same time. You half scream half moan, the pain unable to turn into pleasure before his hand makes contact with your ass again several times. Fuck it hurts but you both know you like a little pain.

“Don’t be a brat. When I tell you to do something, you do it,” landing a final smack when he sees your ass red with his handprint. Your hands grab the seat of the couch, needing something to hold onto as he rams into you. He’s making your head dizzy, moans even louder than before. His hand covers your mouth, trying to stifle your moans so the neighbors don’t hear. “Be quiet, we don’t want another noise complaint, do we?” You whimper, finding it harder and harder to keep your voice down when his dick is reaching into you so deep. You close your eyes, trying to focus on keeping your voice to a minimum as he drives you mad with his movements.

He stills, dropping his hand from your mouth. “I wanna see you fuck yourself on me,” his hand smooths over your red cheek, still sore from his previous spanking. You sit up on your hands and move your ass back and forth slowly, clenching to make your walls tighter around him, knowing it feels good for him. “Just like that baby,” he sighs. You turn your head to look at him, watching as he can’t take his eyes off his dick disappearing in and out of your core. He bites his lip, enjoying the way you pull out to the tip and take him back in. He looks so sexy with his hair in his face and sweat rolling down his forehead. You want to savor the feeling of him in you, taking your time moving your hips so you can feel every inch of him.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he makes eye contact with you, the simple praise making your heart swell. You continue to move your hips, sighs leaving both your lips at the slow moment until he tells you to lay down on the couch. He positions himself on his knees and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in for a kiss as he slides back in. Your moans are muffled by his lips, letting him take control of your body. His hips are slower this time, but that allows him to take his time and reach deeper into you with each thrust. When you crave more of him, you pull away to look into his eyes, whispering “faster” against his lips. He loves how needy you are for him to wreck you, and who is he to deny that?

You know you asked him to go faster, but you still weren’t ready for him to pick up the pace, making you scream obscenities. His hand closes around your throat, squeezing a little harder than usual but you don’t want him to let up. You slap a hand over your own mouth, not wanting to get too loud. He smirks down at you when he sees you trying to keep quiet without him having to say anything, he knows you can’t control yourself when he’s in you. Something about maintaining eye contact makes the moment even more intimate, and neither of you can look away from each other. When he starts to rub your clit again, you can feel the pressure building up. He knows you so well, he can feel when you’re getting close and doesn’t stop until you can’t hold on. His hips don’t slow down, chasing his own high even when your legs are shaking from the overstimulation of his fingers on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You move your hand away from your mouth to bring his head down, whispering in his ear, “Cum in me please, San.” He nuzzles his face in your neck, your words helping send him over the edge with a long moan and a few curses of his own. He slows down as he fills you up, making your core warm with his release. You love when he makes a mess of you, cum leaking from you as he pulls out to admire your body underneath him. Your fingers gather a bit of his release, bringing it to your mouth to taste him. He’s so in awe of you, so dirty for him and him only.

“Maybe I should wear babydolls more often,” you say with a smile.

[sarahlevys]

SO YOU WANT TO GET INTO TWYLEXIS

(a fic rec post - last updated 10/31/2021)

11/25/20: I have been talking to a lot of people about The Good Ship Twylexis, and when @earnmysong asked me for some fic recs, I could not resist! Below are some of my favorites, organized by length. This is not intended to be an exhaustive list, and is simply composed of some of the ones I’ve read. I hope you check them out!

10/31/21: Nearly a year later, the fandom has grown by leaps and bounds! I've been able to add many excellent Twylexis fics to the below list. I tried to keep these recs focused on fics in which they are either the only ship or a substantial part of the narrative, so while there are many fics nowadays that have Twylexis as a side pairing, those will not be listed below. Now that we can be more choosy, I've also removed fics that featured Twylexis as part of a throuple or moreple (so that I can hopefully do a fic rec list for that specifically in the future!)

So I see Alexis is getting back out there. (Short Reads)

in the middle of the deep blue night – T – 577 – by @hullomoon

Alexis is all alone at the party, that is, until Twyla joins her.

in the hack – G – 2K – by thingswithwings

After Ted, and before the Next Thing, Alexis joins a curling team. She's great at it, because, what, like it's hard?

Icarus had the right idea – T – 4K – by Luthor

In which Alexis convinces Twyla to take her to the beach, and has an okay-time I guess. 

never saw you coming, never be the same – G – Podfics! 15 minutes in total – by DelilahMcMuffin, GoLBPodfics, & Amanita_Fierce

Three different perspectives from Twyla Sands and Alexis Rose's first Pride spent together as a couple.

to be your harbor – E – 4K – by @doublel27

Twyla uses some of her money on things that are special to her. Alexis is special to Twyla. Luckily, Twyla is precious to Alexis.

and it's just around the corner darling, 'cause it in lives in me (no, I could never give you peace) – T – 3K – by beepbedeep

She’s what people call the worst, most pointless kind of celebrity, a socialite, and she does it better than anyone else. It’s good, she knows it’s good, she’s serving her purpose, playing her part perfectly, and if she doesn’t really know how to be alone with herself, how to handle the actual weight of her life when the gossip blogs get bored and the photographers stop showing up for a while, that’s fine.

i knew from the beginning (it was you from the beginning) – T – 1K – by @anniemurphys

Twyla and Alexis celebrate, at a distance.

i took an arrow to the heart – G – 3K – by @sarahlevys and @landofsonlali

Twyla calls Alexis in celebration of the fourth anniversary of their friendship, and the conversation shifts to their feelings for each other. Together, they start to explore the intricacies of love and relationships.

aflame – T – 4K – by @pretendtofly

Alexis has a few days left in Schitt's Creek after the wedding and Twyla wants to spend them all together.

could be your baby, ride the same whip (oh no, no, there's no slowin' down) – T – 3K – by @turningtimeinthetardis

Alexis doubts anything too surprising will happen when she and Twyla decide to go on a little shopping spree (such as they can afford, that is) at one of Elmdale’s boutiques. Maybe they’ll encounter some truly hideous blends of patterns, but nothing stranger than that.

After all, if there’s one thing Schitt’s Creek and the surrounding suburbs can offer, it’s quiet predictability.

I weigh a hundredandfuckingsomething pounds (that makes me almost good) – G – 2K – by beepbedeep

Her legs don’t look good, but half of the girls she knows have legs that look even worse, smiles that are even more shark-toothed or arms that are even less toned, and she reminds herself that these are just the rules', that she knows the rules and knows where she’s failing, but other people are failing more.

shining, shimmering, splendid – G – 1K – by @davidbrewer

Twyla finally starts spending some of her lottery winnings on things that make her smile, and learns how much she loves to travel. Who better to show her around the world than Alexis?

ask 'em my questions and get some answers – G – 1K – by @lilythesilly

Alexis and Twyla meet at Disneyland.

a handprint on my heart – T – 4K – by averita

Five times Alexis and Twyla visit each other.

Merry Go Round – T – 2K – by Perkalil

In her first days in town, Alexis is in a rough place; she finds kindness and compassion in the local cafe waitress.

feel you on my skin – E – 1K – by @hullomoon

Alexis notices what Twyla's wearing. She has a lot of feelings about it.

you make everything good – G – by @rosedavid

Twyla has to go and visit her gaggle of cousins for two weeks, and Alexis is pouty about her girlfriend leaving for so long.

didn't ask for this – you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for the both of us) – T – 6K – by @turningtimeinthetardis

Alexis chops her name down to three letters like it's nothing.

Twyla thinks about it a lot.

putting roots in my dreamland – G – 4K – by @lilythesilly

A twylexis flowershop au.

(but if baby, i'm the bottom) you're the top – E – 3K – by @sarahlevys

Five times Twyla tops Alexis, and one time she lets Alexis top her.

three o'clock – E – 2K – by @schittyfic

Two tipsy girlfriends thirst over the hot, bearded guy across the bar.

shivers – E – 5K – by @anniemurphys

Alexis has a long day in an airport, and Twyla wants to take care of her.

This Stupid, Wonderful, Boring, Amazing Job – G – 1K – by @lilythesilly

A cute lil 'The Office' AU.

in calm or stormy weather – T – 4K – by @anniemurphys and @landofsonlali

On National Siblings Day, Alexis spends the day with her favorite brother Patrick, and David bonds with Twyla.

all i need is to see your face – G – 1K – by @wild-aloof-rebel

Alexis has doubts. Twyla knows how to soothe them.

got a fistful of four leaf clovers – T – 1K – by iphigenias

Two weeks before Christmas Alexis calls David.

“So I think I like someone,” she says.

all i want is you – T – 1K – by @landofsonlali

alexis is too restless to cuddle and worries about being a good partner to twyla who loves cuddling. twyla reassures her.

Fifty Shades of Gruyere – E – 2K – by @schittposting

Alexis and Twyla eat cheese and fuck.

I dreamt about you last night – G – 930 – by sonichallows

Alexis has a romantic dream about Twyla and tells her about it the next day.

Mistletoe – T – 2K – by in48frames

Alexis and Twyla go ice skating.

--

Twy, what are you doing here? You could be anywhere, doing anything. (Medium Reads)

Twyla's Cafe Podcast, An Alexis Rose Production, Produced by Alexis Rose (with help from Twyla) – T – 6K – by @whetherwoman

Twyla and Alexis start a podcast, and accidentally have some feelings along the way.

Crystal Clear – G – 6K – by @imalittlebitgogirl

Twyla and Alexis meet at a Winter Solstice celebration and bond over being newcomers...with more connections than they first realize.

take me out (and take me home) – M – 7K – by @anniemurphys and @landofsonlali

When Twyla’s Thanksgiving plans fall through at the last minute, Alexis flies back to Schitt’s Creek.

know that i’m yours (to keep) – T – 8K – by @anniemurphys

Five times Alexis and Twyla talk at Café Tropical.

And one time they talk somewhere else.

I Offer You My Heart – G – 10K – by @landofsonlali​, with art and podfic by @sunlightsymphony

Twyla is the owner of a coffee shop in Schitt's Creek and Alexis is a frequent customer, featuring pining, flirtation, and a whole lot of beverages and baked goods.

Oh Please, Not Now – T – by in48frames

“Oh,” Twyla says. “Yeah. Schitt’s Creek is super haunted."

Ladies Night Inn – T – 15K – by @imalittlebitgogirl

What if Twyla had accepted Alexis' invitation to a ladies night in her motel room after she and Mutt broke up?

i'm your moonlight, you're my star – M – 14K – by @sarahlevys and @anniemurphys

Twyla and Alexis spend the holidays together.

and the stars look very different today – T – 12K – by @hullomoon, with art from @hagface

Teaming up with a group of talented women, Alexis plans her next job

Hide Your Diamonds, Hide Your Exes – T – 8K – by @middyblue

Alexis may or may not be a diamond thief. Twyla is the FBI agent tasked with finding her.

heaven is a place not too far away – T – 8K – by @sarahlevys

Alexis' soulmate mark – the ability to sing – triggers when she moves to Schitt's Creek.

Pretty Follies – T – 9K – by @treepyful

Alexis and Twyla team up to play matchmaker for Stevie and Ruth.

Unfortunately, the course of true love never did run smooth.

Everything That We'd Ever Need – E – 12K – by @middyblue

5 times Twyla went skinny-dipping and 1 time she wore a dress.

Rollin' With the Homies – T – 9K – by @sarahlevys

The Clueless AU.

Phasers Set to Stunning – T – 9K so far (WIP – 2/4 chapters published) – by @kindofspecificstore

Patrick wins passes to San Diego Comic Con, and takes his best friend Twyla with him. Alexis Rose, rising star of Galactic Sunrise Bay, is attending for the first time and has her eyes on a super cute cosplayer.

--

I was thinking we could have a little ladies' night at my place. (Long Reads)

you and i and nobody else - E – 124K so far (WIP – 7/10 chapters published) – by @sarahlevys​ and @anniemurphys​

Twyla Sands and Alexis Rose meet on Mutt’s season of The Bachelor.

Maybe If You Stayed – E – 14K – by @fraudulentzodiac

“Years down the line, this is the moment she will look back on as the moment she should have known she was in love.“

your body’s poetry (speak to me) – E – 19K – by @anniemurphys

Ballet AU.

I’ve Only Ever Wanted Fire – M – 26K – by @sarahlevys​, with art from @rhetoricalk

Written for the prompt: Twyla is a real estate agent specializing in properties that are haunted or possessed. Alexis is looking for a new apartment.

Silence Lay Steadily – E – 44K – by @davidbrewer

A ghost story loosely inspired by The Haunting of Hill House.

like glass from sandy ground – M – 18K – by @middyblue

Five times Alexis ran from grief, and one time she didn't.

Taste of a Poison Paradise – M – 15K – by @lilythesilly

Be gay do crimes but make it a Harley Quinn AU.

Half of My Soul, as the Poets Say – E – 20K – by mixtapesandsunsets

Yes, she imagines telling the Alexis of two years ago, who had felt so untethered sitting next to Twyla outside these very rooms. You believe in fate. Your fate is right in front of you, Lex, you just need to reach out to meet it. It’s her. It has always been her.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Echo x Reader: Sightseeing

(Author’s note:  I’m soooo sorry, I’ve been neglecting my Hobbit fanfiction duties, but I have Star Wars on the brain!  I don’t know, I’ve been drawn back in.  Here is a little something for you Echo fangirls.  He’s one of my faaaves!  This is pre-citadel, just so you know...)

   “Echo!” 

   The trooper glanced up from his datapad at the sound of his brother calling his name.  Fives was standing there, shaking his head in what looked like disappointment with arms folded across his armored chest.

   “What?” Echo shrugged his shoulders.

   “We’re in the middle of this beautiful city, and you’ve got your nose in a datapad!”  He gestured to their surroundings.  It was a warm night.  The duracrete was damp from a brief rainfall not too long before, and neon light signs reflected in the puddles.  Citizens walked back and forth, some talking on comms and others waiting in lines to try the exotic street foods that filled the air with scents that would make anyone’s mouth water.  It was beautiful now that Echo got a good look, but there were other things on his mind.

   “I’m reading the latest report issued about Geonosis,” he defended.  “Apparently some Geonosian worm infected-”

   “Brother, no.”

   “But-”

   “No, no.”  Fives shook his head again, reaching over to snatch the datapad from his best friend’s hand.  “You need to take some time and enjoy the sights.  There will be plenty of time to catch up on the latest reports on our way back.”

   “I suppose,” he conceded, still not completely convinced.

   “Like here,” Fives put an arm around his shoulder, drawing him closer to a cart where street food was being sold.  “Do you think we could enjoy such things on the cruiser?”

   Echo stared at the breaded aquatic creature on a stick, his empty stomach rumbling.  He remembered that he hadn’t eaten yet that evening. “That is an excellent point.”

   “I’m starving.  Let’s try something, eh?”

   Echo nodded, and he and Fives took their place in line.  Fives was looking at the menu posted on the front of the rickety old cart, and Echo took the time to observe his surroundings again.  There were some things he hadn’t noticed before- like how if he listened closely enough, he could hear a lively tune playing over the chatter of citizens.  It was a diverse crowd with droids and people.  His casual scan was halted when he spotted a beautiful pair of eyes.

   They only caught his gaze for a moment as she walked by, but Echo found himself following the form that they belonged to.  She was absolutely lovely, he admitted to himself in the privacy of his own mind.  Sure, in his travels he had seen a few that he found attractive, but none that had this effect on him.  It felt like his insides were coming apart, and he wondered if he should approach her.  What would he even say?

   A shadow moved along the wall of the buildings behind the woman.  The shadow moved steadily, and Echo quickly realized that it was following the owner of those eyes he so admired, who seemed oblivious to the situation.

   His jaw tightened as he tracked the figure, fists clenched.  He quickly made his way through the crowded sidewalk until he neared the shadow’s target.

- - - - 

   You had noticed the individual dressed in a trench coat with the collar turned up walking at a steady pace behind you.  He was distant, but close enough to raise alarm in your mind.  He had followed you down every turn.  Perhaps you were being paranoid, but perhaps not.  Not wanting to take any chances, you considered a few ideas to lose the guy.  As you passed a group of street vendors, you took note of a few troopers in uniform.  By the looks of it, they were ARC troopers.  One happened to look over at you and made eye contact briefly.  Maybe he saw the situation you were in because he kept staring even after you had broken the mutual gaze.  You decided to go a little farther and then circling around to approach the troopers.  If this individual was really following you, hopefully they’d get the idea and leave if you were in the company of soldiers.

   A line of citizens cut in front of you, and someone had shoved you off to the side.  

   “Ouch,” you complained, though you realized the incident was the least of your problems.  The two troopers in your line of sight were nowhere to be found, and the figure behind was gaining on you.

   Suddenly, a gloved hand just barely rested on your elbow, prompting you to move forward.  “Keep walking.”

   You glanced up to see the ARC trooper you’d made eye contact with before.  He had kept the standard trooper haircut and had no visible tattoos or scars on his face, only a handprint painted on his armor to distinguish him from others.

   “I don’t mean to alarm you,” he spoke in a low voice, “but there’s someone following you.”

   “I know,” you replied.  “I haven’t been able to shake him.  I was actually heading back around to find you and the other ARC trooper, hoping you’d scare him off.”  You pretended to be familiar with the trooper, slipping your arm around his waist and smiling.  

   “Well, you found me.”  He steered you back out of the crowd toward the nearest building.  The individual in the trench coat had slowed down at this point, and you saw a pair of eyes reflecting light in your direction.  The trooper put his arm around you, drawing you closer to his armored chest, and he blatantly stared down the stranger until they flinched and hurried away.

   You exhaled in relief.  “Thank you.”

   “It’s no trouble, really.”  He caught your gaze again, looking at you with those warm brown eyes of his.  He was handsome, no doubt, and the chivalry he displayed just now made him even more handsome in your eyes.  “Are you okay?”

   “A little spooked,” you admitted.  “But I’m fine, thanks to you.  My ship isn’t too far from here.  I think I’ll be alright.”

   He lifted a brow.  “You sure?  I can walk you back.”

   “No, don’t worry about it.  I don’t think he’ll want to follow me to where I’m headed.  Trust me.”

   “Okay.”  He gazed at you a little longer.  “What’s your name?”

   “Oh, I’m ________.”  You held out your hand.

   He shook it.  “I go by Echo.” 

   “Echo?”

   “It’s a long story.”  A look of embarrassment crossed his features.  “I used to reiterate orders in the training simulations, and my teammates would call me ‘Echo’ out of annoyance.”

   “Really?  That’s an interesting way to get a name.  I like it.”

   A mutual silence settled between you two.  Echo stole a glance at a nearby vendor and gestured toward it with a gloved hand.  “Hungry?”

   “Yeah, I could eat,” you decided.  Whatever it was that they were selling at the cart was foreign to you, but looked and smelled good.  Fortunately, the line was short.  You and Echo only had to wait a few minutes before stepping up to place the order.  You fished out your wallet, but Echo gently tapped your hand.

   “Allow me.”

   “But you just rescued me.  I couldn’t ask you to pay.”

   “You’re not asking.  I’m insisting,” he said with a smile.  He handed a few credits to the vendor and accepted the food, motioning for you to follow him away from the cart so the next person could order.  You took a bite of your portion and smiled.

   “This is really good!  Thank you.”

   “Don’t mention it.”  He bit into his serving as well.  “Wow, that is good.”  As the two of you finished your snack, Echo inquired to know more about you.  “So, what do you do for a living?”

   “I’m a mechanic.”

   “Yeah?  What kind?”

   “A good one,” you replied with a cheeky look.

   “I suppose I walked right into that one, but seriously, what sort of things do you work on?”

   “Mostly ships.  I like making a difference, getting to travel, and meeting new people.”  You gave his armored shoulder a playful nudge.

   “Sounds like you’re doing what you love.”

   “You could say that.”

   Another mutual silence ensued, but it made neither of you uncomfortable.  For just a few more minutes, you enjoyed the other’s company and the newfound friendship.  The moment was interrupted when the other ARC trooper you’d seen standing next to Echo before approached.

   “There you are, Echo!” he exclaimed.  “I waited in line, but by the time it was my turn, you were gone.”

   “Sorry,” Echo looked bashful.  “Fives, this is _________.  We ran into each other and got talking.  _________, this is Fives.”

   “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fives.”

   “Right back at you.”

   You glanced at the chrono on your wrist.  “Oh, I need to get back to my ship.”  In a moment of bravery, you leaned in to press a kiss to the side of Echo’s face, though with you having to lean around his ARC trooper armor, it ended up closer to his jaw than cheek.  “Thank you, Echo, for looking out for me.”

   His eyes widened in surprise, and for a few seconds he struggled to come up with a reply.  Finally, he just uttered, “anytime.”

   You smiled.  Echo was strong and brave, and yet so sweet and, well, darling.  With a farewell to him and Fives, you headed back to the ship that you were expected at in only a few minutes for the start of your shift.

   “Wait,” Echo hurried after you.  “Can I comm you?”

   You felt warmth in your face.  “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around.”

   And then you turned and left.

   - - - -

   “So what’s all this, huh?”  Fives gave Echo a playful punch to the shoulder plate.  “I turn around for two seconds, and I find you with a girl.  An actual girl.”

   “She needed help- that’s all.  Someone was following her, and I couldn’t let anything bad happen.”

   Fives narrowed his eyes slowly.  “Ohhh, I see how it is... You like her.”

   “What?  How did you gather that from me helping a random citizen?”

   “Can’t say I blame you.  She’s cute, that’s for sure.”

   “Come on,” Echo rolled his eyes.  “Are you even listening to me?”

   “I’m listening, and all I’m hearing is that you totally have a thing for _______.”

   Echo cleared his throat, hoping he’d drop the topic because even though Echo tried to deny it, Fives was spot-on with his analysis.  It comes with the territory of spending your whole life with your teammate.  They know you pretty well.  “Either way, I doubt I’ll ever see her again.  We ship back out tomorrow anyway.”

   Fives patted his back.  “You never know, brother, you never know...”

   The entire evening out, Echo tried very hard to enjoy himself.  He caught himself searching the crowd for that face again everywhere he and Fives went.  Fives even suggested they circle back to where he met her again, just in case she came back looking for him too.  She was nowhere to be found.  When both troopers had enough exploring, the two headed back to the Republic ship.

   After getting through security, they went toward the trooper quarters.  They chatted idly about the interesting things they saw in the city and the foods they tried.  

   Echo was nearly floored when he caught a glimpse of that familiar pair of eyes.

   She was wearing a jumpsuit typical of mechanics in the GAR, and she was talking to a coworker, most likely an electrician, in the hall while he worked on a light fixture.  She looked up and met Echo’s gaze, and she smiled brightly at him.  Without thinking, Echo walked right up to her.

   “Wait, you work here?  On this ship?” he asked.

   She stifled a chuckle.  “Yeah, you didn’t know?”

   “I’ve seen mechanics around all the time in the hangar.”  He raised his brows incredulously.  “I would’ve definitely remembered you.”

   “That was actually pretty smooth,” Fives muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Echo to hear.

   “I’m new,” ________ admitted.  “Well, new to this ship.  I used to work with the 212th, but seeing as General Skywalker is the one with the highest destroyed vehicle count, they transferred some of us over.”

   Fives burst out laughing.  “That sounds like the General.”

   “Well then, I’m glad to be seeing more of you, _________,” Echo said.  “I’ll let you get back to work.”

   “Alright,” she nodded.

   “Alright,” he echoed, gazing back.  This time, the silence that followed was rather awkward as he didn’t budge or break the stare.

   Fives’ eyes shifted between the two before he broke the awkward silence.  “Uh, it was nice to see you again, _________.  We’ll be heading out now.  Have a good night!”  He grabbed Echo by the shoulders and gently pushed him in the other direction.  Echo regained his senses and kept walking, occasionally sneaking a glance over his shoulder.

   “We’ve got to work on your flirting skills,” Fives groaned.  “That last bit was just painful to watch.”

   “I’ll be seeing her,” Echo said with a smile on his face.  “I guess that means I’ll have plenty of practice.”