#I try to go out and hang out with people and go on walks and all of that

[blond3ang3l]

Hanging with plug! Connie

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You and Connie knew each other for the last couple years. Having met him through your ex boyfriend since the two of them were homeboys, it was an unlikely friendship that grew between the two of you. People did tell him it was fucked to be hanging with the ex of a friend. He KNEW it was fucked up to his homeboy, but to be fair you were just more enjoyable to be around.

He felt like when he hung around other friends they always wanted something out of him or wanted to use him as a way to shoe off they were “down”. You were just chill and treated him like did everyone else, and that why he fucked with you. He didn’t mind doing shit for you even though you always objected. You were perfectly capable of doing and paying for you guys whenever yall went out but he always insisted.

When y’all first started to hang out one on one he expected it to be like how he was with everyone else. Just hanging in his car or his room and just smoking for hours. He was fried if he thought that all you would do is sit and smoke all day. Once in a while was whatever but you wanted to get out the house once in a while and having Connie go with you was a no brainer.

“Stay yo ass still nigga. You gonna have me fuck you up and then you gonna be mad.” Connie snorted in response while rolling his eyes. He had came over to our place at here in the morning because after arching. Few YouTube videos and tik toks you were convinced that you could cut, bleach, and dye hair. Now the dying his hair wasn’t the problem it was he cutting part, because you ad no clue what you were doing.

“Don’t fuck me up now. I don’t wanna walk around with damn bald spot or sumthin.” You snickered while taking the guard off the razor. Turning around you rubbed the mirror that laid on your nightstand to pass to him. “I think I did pretty damn good right Con?” Looking into the mirror he was surprised to see you actually did a really good job. You didn’t even know it but you were now about to be his personal barber. “ S’ alright.” “Alright??”

Connies arm wrapped around you waist to pull you in front of him while he laughed. I’m fuckin with you. you did good for a first time. Guess I’ll let you try again another time.” He took his phone out his pocket and pulled up Pinterest (which you got him addicted to) and pulled up his board of different styles of art for you to try after bleaching his hair.

“Now go through this and pick what you’re gonna do on me.” “Do I look like an artist to you?” He shrugged without a care in the world. “Well you gonna learn today.” You rolled your eyes but still happily made your way to your bathroom to get your hair dye…

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[grandline-fics]

For your Valentine's Event: Single Red Rose with Benn Beckman. ❤️

DESCRIPTION: Single Red Rose- When your date goes wrong, they come to your rescue

WARNINGS:  mutual pining but it all works out.

CHARACTERS: Benn Beckman

WORDS: 923

A/N: Thank you @thecrimsonacademic for this request for the Valentine's Event! I hope you like what I came up with for Beck. This is my second time writing for him so I'm still trying to get the hang of getting his personality down

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

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When you’d returned to the Red Force, Benn immediately noticed the extra bounce in your step and unshakable smile. His eyes always seemed to find you regardless of what was going on around him but when your mood was this good, it was impossible for him to not notice. You must have encountered something very fun to do on the island they’d stopped at. Still it didn't explain why you were back so soon. He was one of the few on watch duty. You were part of the group out exploring the island. Curious he stepped up beside you as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink. “What’s got you so upbeat? Yasopp get drunk and fall asleep in a flowerbed again?”

“No! It's too early for that, even for him.” You grinned, leaning against the counter while Beck grabbed a drink of his own. “I’ve got a date tonight.”

Not a lot surprised Benn much anymore but that declaration did make him pause and the once delicious mouthful of ale in his mouth seemed to become heavier and harder to swallow. While nothing ever explicit had happened between you both, Benn was very aware of his feelings that had been growing for you to be beyond just crewmates and friends.

You’d both flirted more times than he could count and been affectionate but nothing ever romantic or sexual since Benn believed letting things take the natural course to be the best plan of action. Seemed while he was on the ship and you were out on your own, someone caught your eye. He was a realist to know this wasn’t love for you and this random person. The ship would be setting sail in a couple days, this was just something to pass the time. Regardless of the meaning, the word ‘date’ twisted something unpleasant in him. 

“A date huh?” Beck asked, keeping an air of calm and lightheartedness in his words because the last thing he would ever do was sour your happiness. “Hope they’re able to show you a good time. You deserve it.”

“I hope so too.” You smiled warmly as you finished your drink and sighed with a light shrug. “But if turns into a bad time, I’ll not cry over it. They’re cute, but not that cute. I’m going to get ready.” You stepped away and walked towards the door only to stop and quickly turn to look at Benn warningly but still with a touch of playfulness in your stare. “And if Shanks asks-”

“I know, I know. ” Beckman chuckled, knowing the last thing you'd want on a date was for Shanks to lurk nearby or tease you and disrupt things. “I won’t say a word until we set sail.”

“You’re the best, Beck.” You beamed before disappearing down the hallway to get ready for your night.

It wasn't long after you’d left to go meet your date when Lucky and Hongo returned to allow Benn and the others remaining on board to go out and see the island and have some fun. Beck knew he wouldn’t need to search far to find at least someone in the crew, knowing their lively presences would make themselves known without any effort. He was right because someone in the crew did appear, he was just surprised to see it was you and even stranger still you were on your own and the bounce you had in your step earlier was gone. “Hey you.” Beck greeted, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts. “What happened?”

“Guy never showed.” You explained with a small shrug. “Left a message that had he known I was a pirate he wouldn’t have asked me out.”

“You’re kidding.” Benn asked with eyebrows raised and a disbelieving shake of his head, some people were so gutless. “I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologise, Beck. Like I said he was cute, but not cute enough to cry over. I just wish I hadn’t wasted my time getting ready for it to go to waste.” You shrugged, smiling softly at Beck’s sympathy. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on the ship.”

As you moved to head in the direction of the ship you were swiftly caught by Benn’s hand and stopped. You looked up at your crewmate and let out a sigh to see him looking at you with a serious look. Truthfully you weren’t in any way hurt by what had happened. You’d mostly agreed to a date with someone else because you thought it would take your mind off of your feelings for the man in front of you. Now you hated that he looked upset on your behalf.“Beck, honestly I’m fine.”

“Fine or not you look too good to let it go to waste. C’mon you wanted a date, you’re getting a date.” Benn instructed, leading you back towards the town. When you opened your mouth to protest he grinned at you. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure you have fun.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” You huffed out with a smile, finally letting him lead you wherever he wanted. “Fine, I’m curious now to see how Benn Beckman operates on a date. Show me what you got Beck.”

“Oh that’s a tall order.” Benn laughed, adjusting his hand to lace his fingers with yours. “Y’see to really get the full experience it’ll take a lot more than a single date. Could take a long while.”

“That so?” You grinned walking side by side with him. “I’ve got the time.”

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[yawping-poets-society]

we don't talk enough about cameron's first real scene, where he talks to neil outside his dorm before todd arrives. in case anyone doesn't know what i'm referring to, here's the dialogue from the scene:

Cameron: Hey, Neil, study group tonight?

Neil: Yeah, sure.

Cameron: Business as usual, huh? [turns to leave, then] Hey, I heard you got the new kid. Looks like a stiff. [laughs at his own joke] [Todd enters] Oops. [Cameron leaves]

so let's talk about it!!

cameron opens with the study group question. this is pretty straightforward to me-he knows he's none of the poets' favorite, and certainly not charlie's. neil is his foremost supporter, pretty much the only one who sticks up for him, so this makes sense. he's checking with neil, his 'in' to the group, to make sure he can hang with these guys. he wants to be part of their circle so badly, and that's pretty clear from the get-go.

and then he hits us with this whole "stiff" business. this is a major thing i've seen people use to justify their hate of cameron and i really struggle with that.

because, well...this is SO undeniably awkward. neil tells todd just a moment later not to mind cameron because he was "born with his foot in his mouth." so off the bat, that's not something you say about someone who's consistently rude or who you don't like. that's neil sticking up for cameron. he's saying, sorry todd, he means well, or at least, he doesn't have any ill intentions. cameron's just not got the best grasp of social cues, that's how he is. this is a pretty valid explanation in and of itself, but if you'll walk with me a little further, i've got a deeper theory about why cameron makes this comment.

more than just it being awkward, this casual friendliness, haha, new kid, a mild insult said with much bravado...this isn't really cameron as we see him for the rest of the movie. though he does remain relatively awkward, it doesn't really match his character of being cautious and trying to not stand out, to fit into the group (as we see in his first line). so how to explain this action (because i don't believe the explanation is just: cameron is being an asshole/being awkward)?

to me? this is what cameron thought charlie would say. isn't that almost exactly how charlie always talks about cameron, after all? for a great example, see later in the same scene:

Charlie, about Cameron: What's his specialty, bootlicking?

so maybe cameron believes that this is how friends treat each other. or at least, how they talk about other people to entertain their friends. charlie, while not a stellar student and clearly not liked by the administration, is the class clown, which makes him popular with students at welton. thus, cameron is probably jealous of charlie. he probably wishes he was more like charlie-confident, funny, well-liked, etc. and again, he clearly wants to be friends with neil, and part of their larger group, very, very badly. all of this to say:

i don't think cameron meant what he said about todd.

he's trying to get a laugh out of neil. so what does he do? he does what he thinks charlie-neil's funny best friend-would do. it's not a nice thing to say, but to me, it really just reads as someone who is trying to guess what the appropriate, funny thing to say in a situation is, but doesn't actually know. cameron might not have even really thought the 'stiff' joke was funny. but he thought neil would find it funny, which is really the whole point. cameron is, at the most fundamental level, an unpopular kid who wishes he was well-liked, and is fumbling around blindly trying to find his way there.

[kiszjuli]

LOVE BET .ᐟ

✸ bestfriend!jisung x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c. 2.5k | ♡

↳ synopsis. you and your bestfriend jokingly make a bet that whoever doesn't get a valentine has to pay for dinner at you guys' favorite restaurant, which is quite expensive. as valentine's day approaches, you both realize that you don't exactly like the idea of the other person going out with someone..

↳playlist. love - keyshia cole. lucky girl - red velvet. affection - between friends. like we just met - nct dream. better than gold - nct dream. off my face - justin bieber.

it was currently february 1st, meaning all of the bright pink and red decorations were already decorated around your campus. you found yourself in the, abnormally loud and chaotic cafeteria, you were waiting at your designated seats for your best friend, jisung, and as you waited you looked around. Glancing from the pink flyers to the red heart shaped balloons, and everything else in between. jisung plopped down with a sigh in front of you. "it looks like cupid threw up in here," you muttered, opening your pack of cookies. jisung's lips quirked up into a boyish grin as he settled in his seat. "what, jelous of all the love in the air?"

"it's not that," you said offering him a cookie, which he gladly took. "it's just...valentine's day is so overrated. why spend one single day to prove your love when you could just like─not suck the rest of the year?"

laughing, jisung spoke again. "god, you're such a romantic, no wonder you're still single," rolling your eyes you glare at him. "you're one to talk. when was the last time you tried to talk to someone you like?"

jisung's face flushed a little. "hey, i talk to people!"

"not what i asked," you say flatly, then lean across the table. "name one person you've flirted with in...the past year," you say thinking for a second.

as if really trying to think, he furrows his brows and looks at the table. "exactly," you laugh. "alright, how about you then? i don't remember hearing about you having a valentine," he raised a brow, challenging you back and sitting up in his seat.

your confidence wavered a little, but didn't let it show, "oh please, i could get asked out if i wanted to,"

"oh yeah? could you?"

you reached for a fry on your tray and threw it at him. he tried to block the fry, it falling to his lap as he laughed at you. "i'm just saying," he shrugged. "all this big talk, yet you're in the same boat as me,"

a smirk spreads across your face, as you get an idea. "fine, you know what? how about, whoever doesn't get themselves a valentine, has to buy the other dinner at our favorite restaurant. deal?"

this time it was jisung’s turn to falter a little. “are you seriously betting on this?”

you shrugged. “why not? scared of losing?” you teased.

those words were all it took for his competitive side to kick and and he straighted up once again. “fine. you’re on.” he reached out his his hand and you took it firmly. “prepare to lose park jisung,” you smiled your gaze locked on his. “i’m about to eat so much pasta,”

he smirked, his hand lingering in yours for a second longer than necessary. “we’ll see about that.”

little did the both of you know, that stupid little bet was about to change everything.

—

it’s a quiet afternoon, after school. you and jisung were hanging out at your favorite café. the place was a little busy with people, but you are just enjoying the usual, comfortable silence. that is, until a guy from one of your classes walks in. you notice him immediately. he was a generally friendly guy, always talking to everyone. he notices you and walks over to your table.

“hey!” he says, making his way over. “what’s up? haven’t seen you around lately.”

you stand to greet him, talking easily as you always do. you’re genuinely enjoying the conversation. he was funny, charming, and always has something interesting to say—never really an awkward pause. you laugh at a joke he tells, and just for a second, you forget jisung is even there.

jisung, however, hasn’t missed a thing.

he watches from his seat, his grip on his cup tightening just slightly. the way you and the guy are laughing, how easily you two got along. it was too comfortable. jisung tries to focus on his phone, but his eyes keep flicking back to you. there’s something in the way the guy looks at you, a little too interested, and jisung feels a pang in his chest. trying to brush it off, he settles with the fact that it’s because you might be winning the bet; for now.

jisung was trying to focus on his phone, scrolling through something meaningless, but the smile on your face. the way you leaned in a little closer to the guy as you talked. it was starting to bother him more than he’d like to admit. it’s dumb, he knows it’s dumb, but he can’t help the flicker of frustration in his stomach. you’re supposed to be just friends. but suddenly, the idea of someone else being interested in you feels… wrong.

he feels like he can ignore him and focus on his phone until the guy laughs again—louder this time, with a hand on your shoulder. he feels his blood start to simmer.

“so, uh, i was thinking about going to see a movie this weekend. wanna go?” the guy asks, his tone light, like it’s no big deal.

you smile, looking a little surprised. “oh, uh, sure! sounds fun.”

jisung’s fingers tighten around his phone, his knuckles almost turning white. the guy’s eyes flicker over to him, then back to you, and jisung doesn’t miss the way the guy raises an eyebrow, sizing him up. it’s a subtle look, but it makes jisung’s jaw clench. he new what the guy was doing, and so did he.

the guy turns to leave, his attention shifting away from you, but before he walks off, he looks back one last time. “see you later, yeah?”

“yeah, definitely!” you call after him, still smiling.

as soon as the guy walks away, jisung can’t hold it in anymore. he stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor louder than usual. “i’m gonna get some air,” he mutters, as he begins to step away.

you glance at him, a little startled. “wha-? jisung, what’s wrong?”

he shakes his head, brushing you off. “nothing. just need some air.”

before you can say anything else, he’s walking out of the café, leaving you behind. you stare after him, confused and a little concerned. what was that about?

you sigh and lean back in your chair, a little unsure of what just happened. you know jisung, and you know that wasn’t just about needing air. you weren’t even doing anything to provoke him. but something about the way he left makes you feel like maybe he’s… bothered.

you pull your phone out, sending him a quick message:

hey, u good?

a few moments later, he replies.

yeah, i’m fine,

but you can tell something’s off. you don’t press him right now, but the conversation with the guy you just had lingers in your mind. was it just your imagination, or did jisung seem…jealous?

—

the following day, you seem to ironically have a similar experience.

you walk into the library after second period, expecting to find jisung buried in his usual corner, headphones in and his nose buried in a textbook. but instead, you stop in your tracks when you see him sitting at a table with a girl from your class, one you’ve seen around but don’t really know. she’s leaning over his shoulder, pointing at a page in her notebook, and jisung is explaining something, his hand moving across the page to help her with the assignment.

hesitating for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, something in your chest tightens when you see how naturally they’re talking, how comfortable she looks in his presence. she was pretty close to him, her shoulder brushing his as she leans in. it feels like your heart sinks a little, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

the way jisung is smiling, the way he’s so focused on her… it’s the same way he looked when he helped you with schoolwork, but this time, it’s different. this time, there’s something more, something you hadn’t expected. the sight stings, even though you know it shouldn’t. it’s not like you have any claim over him, and he’s probably just being a good friend, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach won’t go away.

you stand there for a moment, not sure what to do. a small part of you wants to walk away, pretend you didn’t see it, but another part of you, feels like you’ve been punched in the chest. you had no idea why.

just like jisung had felt the day before when you laughed with that guy at the café, you feel that same pang of jealousy now. and it’s so much more than you were expecting. maybe you understood his reaction a little more now.

after what feels like an eternity, you turn around and walk out of the library before you can let any of those feelings show. you tell yourself it’s ridiculous, that you have no reason to feel this way, but the image of jisung laughing with her sticks in your mind, making it impossible to shake the feeling.

—

it was now valentine’s day, and when you got the text from jisung asking to come over and talk, you assume it’s about the bet. about how he didn’t find the valentine he kept claiming he find. and you would tell him the same, that you were both valentine-less. you figured you’d laugh about it and go about your days. everything would go back to normal and you wouldn’t have to see him around talking to other girls and feeling that awful sting in the pit of your stomach.

but as he arrives to your place, the look on his face making you nervous. he sits on your couch and you follow him, cradling your legs to yourself as you sat.

the soft hum of the city outside the window barely audible as you sit together in the living room. despite the seemingly comfortable silence between you two, there’s something else in the air—a tension neither of you has been able to shake for days.

jisung’s, hands fidget in his lap, his eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for something, trying to find the right words. you could tell he’s been holding something back, and it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the way he keeps glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to speak what’s been on his mind for so long.

“hey,” you say softly, breaking the silence, “is everything okay?”

he glances at you, but his gaze is distant—like he’s caught between saying something and not saying anything at all. you wait for him to respond, the anticipation weighing heavily in the room.

“i’ve been thinking a lot,” he begins, his voice quieter than usual, which spikes your curiosity. he exhales slowly. “about everything… with the bet, with us. and i’ve realized something. something i think i’ve been running from for a really long time.”

you sit up a little, your heart beating faster as you focus entirely on him. his tone was serious, the vulnerability in his voice making your chest tighten with both concern and curiosity.

“i’ve been… avoiding it,” jisung continues, his words coming out in a rush. “for years. i kept telling myself it wasn’t anything. that we were just friends. that it didn’t mean anything. but the truth is, i’ve been denying it for so long because I was scared... of what would happen if i admitted it. if i admitted that i’ve felt something more for you than just… friendship.”

your breath nearly catches in your throat. the words are unexpected, and yet, they make your heart race. you swallow, unsure of what to say, but jisung keeps going.

“i thought if i ignored it long enough, it would go away,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours now, raw and open. “but it never did. and i realized that i couldn’t keep pretending. i couldn’t keep pretending that i didn’t feel something for you. i don’t want to see you with anyone else. i don’t want to watch you go out with someone and not be the one standing next to you.” his lock onto yours.

you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you’re not sure whether to be shocked or relieved that he’s finally saying this. all the years of hints, all the quiet moments between you two, all of it makes sense now.

“i’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but i was too afraid,” he confesses, his voice breaking slightly. “i that it would ruin everything. that maybe you wouldn’t feel the same way, or worse—that it would destroy our friendship. but i can’t keep denying it. i’m… in love with you, y/n. and have been for so long, and i can’t pretend i’m okay with the idea of you being with anyone else.”

for a moment, you’re speechless, processing the weight of his words. years of feelings, years of quiet longing—suddenly all of it is out in the open, and it feels both overwhelming and relieving at the same time.

you swallow, your voice barely above a whisper as you look at him. “jisung… i never wanted anyone else. i don’t think i ever did. i’ve been scared too. scared of ruining what we had, scared that you wouldn’t feel the same. but… i feel the same way.”

his eyes widen at your confession, and something in him shifts. like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. his shoulders slump, a sense of relief settling over him.

“really?” he asks, as if he can’t believe you’re saying it too.

you nod, voice steadier now. “i never wanted to go out with anyone else. but i was too scared to risk what we had. i didn’t know how to tell you i… felt the same. i wanted to be with you, but i couldn’t say it.”

jisung ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath he’s held too long. his expression softens, and he moves closer, hand gently touching yours, hesitant but tender.

“so… we’re both idiots then, huh?” he says with a nervous laugh, the humor light but relieved. “all this time… and we were both too scared to admit it.”

you laugh, the tension breaking. “yeah. but i think we’re finally getting it right.”

his smile is genuine, the softest you’ve ever seen. “so…will you be my valentine?”

you squeeze his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “well… only because i don’t have anyone else that asked,” and maybe, just maybe, i’ll let you take me out on a real date. not because of a stupid bet, but because i want to be with you.”

his eyes light up and he chuckles at your words. he smiles softly, cheeks a little rosy. “that sounds perfect.”

and just like that, all the hesitation, all the silent feelings, fade away. you’re both free from the weight of denial, starting something new. together.

and in your book, you still won’t the bet. you knew you weren’t gonna pay for the dinner from the start, and you were right. you also got the best valentine, and soon boyfriend, anyone scouts ever ask for.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffck @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

(i’m sorry this one’s a little late you guys)

[nakidoriii]

Speechless (Part 1)

Nerdjo x Reader

Warning: sexual tension, mild smut descriptions|| MDNI

“Ooo, that’s not good.” Gojo says looking at your test grade as you wallow in disappointment at the table.

This is the second math test in a row that you’ve scored a 70/100 on. If you don’t ace the next one, your parents aren’t going to pay for you to go to Osaka this summer.

“Gojo, I don’t know what to do. I literally have perfect grades in every other subject. Why does math have to be so hard?” You whine into the table.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, prez.” He says as he rolls up your test and hits you on the back of the head with it. You lift your head off the table and sit up, looking up at Gojo’s blue eyes as he stands next to you.

You grab your test from him and say, “I need to start studying for the next test TONIGHT.”

Gojo places his hand on the back of his neck and takes a breath. He wanted to ask you if you wanted him to tutor you, but he was too nervous you’d say no. You are the president of the student council and Gojo is your vice president. You’re pretty popular due to you being so heavily involved with extracurricular activities at your university. Gojo is the smartest in the school but not as popular as you since he kept to himself most of the time. Most people were intimidated by him. When you both got elected, he knew that was the only way he’d get to talk to you. You two often saw each other throughout the week and had lunch together regularly but you’ve never had a conversation outside of student council.

“I….I can help you study. If you want me to. I’m not busy tonight.” He says quietly.

“Would you? You can stay over for dinner and everything!” You exclaimed.

“Yea, sure.” Gojo says trying to be normal about the fact that he’s going over to his crushes house.

“YES! I’m gonna pass for sure this time.” You wrap your arms around his tall frame and frantically say, “thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

The apples of Gojo’s cheeks turn pink at the sudden physical contact with you. You look up at him realizing he was startled by you hugging him and let go.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked first.” You say backing from him.

You didn’t realize his body was so…solid. From that hug alone, you felt how toned his stomach was. Knowing that made you pretty curious.

“N-no, it’s okay.” He says trying to compose himself.

“Cool, do you have any more classes today? If not, we can head over to mine now. I’d hate to just have you over to study.”

“I don’t have anything else today. It'd be fun to finally hang outside of school.” He says as he packs his bag.

“Great! I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship, Gojo. Don’t you?” You say knowing damn well it’ll make him blush.

“That is, if we have anything in common.” He teases back to your surprise. You both start walking out of the board room, walking side by side, heading to the train station.

“Of course we do! We’re in the student council together, which means we should have something in common. Do you read manga?”

“Nooope.” He sings.

“Anime?”

“Eh, I used to watch but not since I started college.”

“….music? You have to listen to music…” you say flashing him a face of disgust as you reach the station. You get in front of him to lead him to your train.

“Of course, I listen to music, Y/N. But It wouldn’t be anything you’d like…. I like sweets though.” He says getting out his card to swipe through the gates.

“Eating sweets isn’t a hobby…” you swipe your card to get through the gates. It’s crowded as usual. You grab his hand, making sure you don’t lose him in the sea of people. His hands were big and soft, the tips of his fingers a bit calloused. You rushed on the train holding Gojo’s hand as the doors opened. The crowd of people push you both toward the window.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how cramped this is.” You say trying to adjust yourself not realizing your butt is brushing up against Gojo’s crotch. He couldn’t begin to fathom how this was happening in broad daylight. His face turned bright red.

“Y/N, pl-please turn around. I can’t…” he mumbles in your ear.

You look down, realizing just how close you were to him. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like how flustered you made him. You never notice him get like this over you but yet again you guys had never hung out. He places his hand against the wall of the train, creating the smallest space for you.

“Ahhh, I’m sorry Gojo.” You say turning to face him.

“It’s fine, not your fault.” He says trying his hardest to play it off.

You two didn’t talk much on the train ride to your place. It was filled with sexual tension though. You two were so close that whenever Gojo looked down, he got a great view of your breasts. When you looked up, you were met with a view of his sharp jawline and collarbones. You hoped the train would make a hard stop so that he would move closer.

“This is my stop, let’s go.” You say leading him off the train.

Once you get off the train and leave the station, you propose that you stop at the convenience store near your place. Gojo agrees and you both head in.

“Get anything you want, I got you.” You say as you look at the shelves.

He nods and starts to look around. You grab a few snacks and drinks and walk up to the counter to check out. Gojo comes up behind you and places his hand full of things on the counter. It was all sweets… damn he was not kidding. You pay for everything and he grabs the bag from the clerk.

“Thanks.” He says as you two start walking to your apartment.

“You're welcome. Thank you for asking to tutor me. My apartment is right up here. I’m on the 4th floor.” You say as you walk up the stairs with him following you.

Once you get to your place, you both take your shoes off at the door and get comfortable in the living room. He spread out all the snacks on the table as if they were all on display.

“Can I get you something to drink? Tea?” You ask.

“Yea, oolong is good. Do you live alone?” He asks, sitting on the ground.

“Yea, I do. My family lives out of the country while I go to school here. I’m sure you know I’m a foreigner by my appearance, that’s not much of a shock.”

“That’s cool. Your place is really cozy. I wouldn’t have imagined it to look like this.” He says as he takes a bite out of whatever snack he chose.

“You’ve imagined what my apartment looks like?” You say.

“You’re the prettiest girl in our graduating class, Y/N. Every guy has thought about what the inside of your apartment looks like.” He says nonchalantly.

You look up from the tea that you’re preparing, shocked that he said that to you. Was this the same guy that was blushing from you giving him a hug earlier? He gets up from the floor and smirks at you.

“Speechless? I don’t know why… you are on every guy's mind right now.” He says as he walks over to the kitchen.

He gets directly behind you, pressing the bulge in his pants on your ass. You couldn’t even pretend to understand where this confidence came from. You bite your lip in anticipation, waiting to see what his next move is.

“I fear that you’ve been on my mind the most.”

Masterlist

Part two coming soon <3

Please don’t alter or steal my writing ©️

[terrestrialnoob]

A Crow Delivers a message

DPXDC Demon Twins AU fic prompt

Damian glared out the window. An odd activity even for someone who seems to always be glaring, but there are several people who can recognize the difference between a resting glare and an active glare.

“You okay there, Dami?” Dick finally decided to ask for the good of the family. Tim trailed behind him, having noticed Damian's mood first, but not wanting to do anything about it.

Damian glanced over at them then back out the window. “It's nothing.”

“It doesn't look like nothing,” Tim commented.

Damian's glare shifted to Tim, but – it might be good that he's here. Dick will try to convince him he's imagining it, but Tim tends to believe Damian when it comes to this sort of thing. He sighed in defeat, “There's a crow following me.”

“A crow?” Both his brother's said at once.

Damian nodded and pointed out the window at the offending avian. “It's been following me since this morning.”

“Are you sure it's the same bird?” Dick asked, leaning over the couch in front of the window.

“Certain.”

“How do you know?” Tim asked as he took Dick's place looking at the bird.

“It doesn't stop looking at me.”

“And, when was the last time you slept?” Dick walked closer to Damian, looking for signs of exhaustion.

“Last night.” Damian answered against the accusation. “You can ask Pennyworth.”

“Birds usually means Penguin.” Tim commented, “Has it done anything but watch you?”

“I don't think...” Dick started but Damian spoke over him.

“It attempted to get my attention. Twice now, it's tapped on the nearest window if I was alone. It was tapping but stopped moments before you two arrived and flew off to that tree.”

Tim hummed, then opened the window.

“Whoa, hang on a second.” Dick took a quick step over but not fast enough to stop him. “I don't think we should be letting strange birds into the manor – if only for Alfred's sake.”

“I don't think it will enter while you two are here.”

“We'll stand right outside the door,” Tim said and started to walk off, “Let us know when it comes in.”

“No? No!” Dick shouted, “We can't-” He seemed to realize he wasn't going to talk reason into either of them, so leaned out the window and shouted at the bird, “Hey, we know you're waiting for something, can you just do it?”

“Don't tip it off!”

“It's a bird!” Dick countered, but then, it flew in through the window.

The three of them stared at it as it seemed to take in the room and the boys. It stared at Damian, almost like it was waiting for something, so Damian nodded at it?

It puffed up with a deep breath and spoke to them. “Your mother lied, your brother survives, though not for long. Sent to the care of Madeleine, dead and revived times over again, returns him wrong. A soul cannot last, so broken and patched, he will be gone.”

“What?”

[mxtantrights]

Beggin' on my knees, baby won't you please

paring: Johnny Storm x fem!reader a/n: okayyyy so like I watched the trailer like everyone else and remembered how much of a crush I had on the human torch. and I would say that while writing this I could envision both the new and old castings so you can read it as who you want! I might come back to this with another piece or two. (I write with a black reader in mind but this piece doesn't specify race, only gender)

Johnny Storm has stopped at almost nothing to get you to go on a date with him. He's persistent, he's flirty, and most dangerously he's not too far off from his goal.

You had been Sue's intern since you took her class a couple of years ago at the university. She had seen in you what she knew she had in herself when she was a student. The grit, the knowledge and the courage to ask why.

She took you under her wing fairly quickly. You found her to be more of a friend than a boss. She always listened to your ideas, though she never played favorites. And she valued your input on important things.

Such as the specs for the flight she, Reed, Ben, and Johnny would be on in the coming months.

You don't really have time to be going on dates with anyone, let alone with Johnny, when you were going to be sending him along with the others into space. It kept you up at night sometimes. If your calculations were triple checked. If you had tested every hypothetical.

That is why for the past week you've been avoiding Johnny. If you see him in the caf, you go the other way and get lunch from outside. If you see him hanging around your lab you wait him out. You're quick to leave with the other workers so he won't offer you a ride.

It's been going well.

Up until now.

You manage to take another peek into the lab. The glass window that appears across from your desk. And there he is. He's sitting in your rolling chair, waiting for you. He's playing with some sort of pen. rolling it between his fingers.

If you avoided him now, he would know for sure. And you have to get to work on a quick fix on confirming the materials needed for the rocket's fins.

With about as much confidence as a cactus in a ballon party. You roll your shoulders back and tug down the white coat that shrouds you. Then you walk over to the door.

As if he's got a heightened sense, he looks up at you as you step through the threshold. You duck your head down and walk over to him. On his face is a growing smirk.

He leans back in the chair, leaning a bit, meaning he totally un-stabilized it. You'll have to re-stabilize it once he's gone.

"Where've you been?" he asks.

You huff a bit at that. As you make it over to your desk you see that's he's rearranged some stuff. You make to move past him but he just rolls with you.

"Johnny, I've been around." you answer finally.

"I know, but just not around me. Which is a same." he pouts.

You chortle, "Oh my god. You can't be serious with that one."

"About as serious as you avoiding me, Specs." he says.

You rolls your eyes. There goes that nickname. To this day you still don't understand why he calls you that. You don't wear your glasses all the time. So what gives?

"I'm just trying to get everything right, Johnny. You are going to space in a few months." you explain.

Johnny opens his legs wider and rolls the chair closer to you. At this angle he's looking right up at you. It's warm and fucking dizzying and you have to remind yourself that even though it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the lab, there are other people here. Your coworkers. His coworkers.

Sue's coworkers.

"I know, but I miss seeing my favorite girl." he admits.

And it shouldn't like it does when he says it. Like he's sharing a secret with you in the middle of the night. Like he's telling you something that is treasured and safe. If only you could tell your stomach that.

"I want you to get to and from space safety, Johnny. If I hang out with you I'll worry myself about it." you confess.

Johnny nods his head, "Okay give me a day then."

"A day for what?" you ask.

"A day where that stress is less. A day where you don't itch to be sitting at this desk and working out things in that beautiful mind of yours." he continues.

The truth is there is no day that is less stressful for you. At several points in each day since this project was announced and your name was attached, you've felt the stress of it. While cooking dinner at home. While doing laundry. While trying to get sleep so that you could get to work.

It's always there.

It's going to be there until the crew comes home from space.

You can't let Johnny know that. He has his own things to worry about. You would hate to add to his plate.

"Sunday." you answer simply.

He nods his head again. And with a smile he gets up from his seat in your chair. It's slow and agonizing how he seems to go from looking up at you to being eye level with you. His gaze never leaving yours as he does.

"I'll see you Sunday." he adds.

[sdv-confessions]

Seeing alot of discourse so, I'm gonna say something about all the characters i can remember myself, to try n lighten the mood!

Sam would use a LOT of emojis when texting. i mean Look at him. he also gets very insecure about how he comes across after sending texts.

sebastians bong no longer exists because he kept smoking up his room and it got confiscated because just walking in could render someone high.

I think Abigail could probably bake decently! no clue if its been said otherwise or not, i just think she would be able to. she also would be an amazing reptile/bug parent, please give our homegirl a katydid to care for.

Robin, she's a decent cook but theres some things she absolutely can't make. she's sometimes tasteblind and thats fine. Also no doubt, but she smells like burnt wood constantly.

Demetrius can bake, really well for some reason, but he also sucks at certain baking activities. he's also judges food very bluntly, if he dislikes it, you'll know, BUT if he realized he upset you, he'll try and give you tips on how to improve it.

Maru, she also likes motorcycles like Sebastian does, but she'd rather put one together than buy one. it's just more interesting in the long run.

Jodi, I don't know much about her. but I can definitely see her giving tips and stuff when she can to other parents in town.

Kent, I really think he'd like oatmeal raisin cookies? I also don't know much about him, i love oatmeal raisin cookies myself. i think he'd like cross stitching, even if he isn't good at it.

Pam, I think she and Willy hang out on occasion to fish together, chat about old times because it makes her happy, i also don't think she gets on well with alot of the other townsfolk in recent times since she seems to be quite self isolated like her own daughter. so the times she does talk with others can lighten her day, She also has a habit of being abit rude to those she cares for in a joking manner.

Willy! That man and Clint are friends, Good friends! though I don't think Willy is on bad terms with Anyone. besides being annoyed with lewis sometimes, but he still cares for him. something tells me he likes knitting scarfs and mittens. but thats when he isn't able to fish. He can't knit a sweater and he swears he gets worse every time he tries.

Clint, i think Clint is also good at baking, though he surprisingly has a habit of burning his hands, keeps thinking he can grab the pans he's using without consequences. i think his favorite to make would be Blueberry or Carrot muffins :]]

Emily! she tries her best constantly, and is actually very nervous of how to make a good first impression, but she also acts on impulse which can be a rocky mix. i think she really likes roller skating, Haley probably does to, so its probably one of tbe activities she cherishes because its time she can spend with her sister.

Haley, It think she'd actually really be able to get into the punk/rock scene if you take the time to introduce her to it. she wouldn't change up her style no, but she'd be able to enjoy something outside of her usual comfort zone.

Alex. i think he couldn't roller skate for the life of himself. and would take alot of time to accept help in learning how to. but he doesn't want to admit it because he has an easy time ice skating and thinks he should be able to roller skate just fine.

George, He likes to go rock picking, and when i say that I'm not just saying that because of how many rocks he gived you, i think he likes to search for agates, has afew glass containers full of his favorite finds, And wouldn't admit it, but he'd be really happy when people join him in the little hobby kf searching

Evelyn, i think she actually really likes fishing, and used to fish at some point, but can't really do it nowadays, but i think she'd like to hang out near the river and talk to Willy when he's there.

Marnie, she's a heavy metal girl, she secretly knows so many metal bands it would surprise you. she'd be elated in a surprized reaction from whoever she's telling. She knows alot of niche bands aswell.

Shane, he once got an eyebrow piercing, but it rejected so badly he couldn't build the courage to get any other form of piercing for ages, He does now have ear piercings though.

Pierre, he has really bad luck, and by that i mean he's extremely clumsy, He walks into so many things, accidentally shuts cupboards and doors on his fingers or foot. curses like a sailor afterwards, likes to jokingly blame Joja for bizarre happenings as abit of an inside joke. Also he's the one usually cooking.

Caroline, THAT WOMAN, i fully believe she knows kick boxing, i just, get that vibe from her. She totally would, She also does most of the hard work around the house as her husband sits around looking pretty. Strong lady, can't convince me otherwise.

WIZARD, He can't cook, not at all, he keeps saying he'll learn, but its just not working for him, It should be just as easy as potions right? No, but he is really good at making tea. he has several blends he favors, and he wishes to share them with someone again someday.

Morris? He actually does feel abit bad for the inhabitants of pelican town, be he can't pinpoint why, so he blames it on the idea that he's just sorry they won't accept Joja. as mean as he is, i do think he has a heart somewhere beneath the Joja logo in his chest cavity 😔 I think he's also the son of the CEO. But I also think he worked Really really hard to get to his position. Morris also has a habit of not actually getting sleep. like, to the point he'll just crash in the work place and get woken by an employee clocking in, Usually Shane. Because Yoba knows Shane wouldn't hesitate to dig in to the fact Morris was sleeping on the Job. Morris used to have slight buck teeth but got them shaven down, (This is lowkey because of an inside joke that takes a LOAD of different characters from different fandoms and chucks them into the same family, because they have similar characteristics.)

FIZZZZ, theres not much on him, But i think he likes to play up on the stuff he does, such as practically scarying the player, He's playing it up, Morris is scared of him. but also has mad respect for him. I know that just because they're some of the only Joja workers that aren't exactly important, that i shouldn't immediately decide they know eachother, BUUUUT, I think they're actually friends, like, MORRIS crashed on Fizz's couch often, his own house was too far back in zuzu city for him to get there on time and still have enough time to sleep, and that they'd also be friends with Dobson if he was part of the game. Though Dobson wouldn't share the sentiment .

Dobson. Dobson should be real, Not just left in code. Thats not a headcanon, just sadness. But I think that if he was in the game, he'd be even harder to convince of not being a member of the Joja workforce than Morris or Fizz would be, he'd be Devoted to it. absolutely devoted. Theres a cardboard cutout of a heart in his chest, and when you turn it around Joja. Co is written across the back in blaring blue ink.

The Cashier girl! She actually is good friends with Sam, Sam was helping her come out of her shell while she worked there, but, when Joja mart is ran outta town, she had to leave aswell since she just oustide of town, (someone help her she had to drive quite the ways to work.) She HATES Joja but she needed the income. She doesn't hate anyone who works under joja, but aren't high ranking ranking, she pities them knowing they aren't actually evil, just, stuck in a hard work environment. I agree that her name is Carrie, it just suits her.

Gunther, That man is literally so gay, You can't tell me otherwise, that man is a fruit. Also, he is related to the guy who sells mermaid pendants, something tell me they are.

Elliot, he's learned how to fish from Willy. he was more than thankful to be taught, i think he's been learning alot from afew of the residents, Like Evelyn, and Caroline, i think they taught him how to Garden, Leah told him alot about nature. Abigail Sebastian, and Marlon told him how to get out of a pickle if he's dealing with monsters if he ever gets stuck in the mines.

Linus, I think everything i can say for him is expected, but i think he used to take great joy in crocheting.

Leah? I'm shocked to say i know nothing about her and i can't make an accurate judgement, same goes for Harvey.

Sorry if I left anyone out, and I'm sorry its easy to tell which characters i am hyperfxating on. peace out. - 🔹️

.

[lexa-griffins]

Clarke spends all night making Lexa's favorite cake for her birthday

Lexa isn't big on celebrating her birthday. Clarkr has come to learn the perfect low key way to do it: dinner at the chinese restaurant she loves in a cute outfit, a little walk afterward followed by cuddles on the couch and a small cake from Lexa's favorite bakery.

Simple and easy.

Although Lexa is turning 30 this year. And she has expressed the desire to go a little more out this year and Clarke is completely for it and having Lexa be celebrated by more people.

Three people plus them isn't too long of a guest list but Lexa is pretty excited about it and so is Clarke. They book a reservation at this fancy chinese restaurant and Clarke makes sure to get Lexa's favorite cake from the m bakery she adores. Everything is set for a nice birthday party and Clarke is giddy with how excited Lexa looks about celebrating her birthday!

The day before Luna calls. Sudden work trip so she cannot make it. Lexa assures her its okay and as she slightly disappointingly hangs up Clarke is there to rub her arm and tell her that they'll still have a great time with just Anya and Raven.

Clarke is just leaving work when she gets a phone call from the bakery. A mistake in the schedule made it so Lexa's cake was forgotten, and they don't have the time to fit it in for tomorrow. The owner is clearly apologetic as she has known Lexa and Clarke for a while now, but there isn't anything she can do except return the money and promise a free bento cake next time they come in. Making a b-line to the grocery store, Clarke looks at the pre-made cakes before quickly deciding Lexa deserves more for her 30th than a grocery store pre-made cake. Lexa loves the chocolate cake Abby bakes for them every time they visit. It's been a recipe in Clarke's family for as long as she can remember. So Clarke is quick to call her mom and ask her for it, knowing Abby doesn't need to look at the falling apart piece of paper it's written on to remember every single ingredient.

She manages to make it home before Lexa, carefully keeping the bag of ingredients in the back of the pantry just in time for the door to open and a teary-eyed Lexa to enter the house.

Clarke immediately jumps in to help to help her with her coat and kiss her, "What's wrong, love?"

"Raven got a bad flu and Anya caught it. They can't make it tomorrow." Lexa's voice trembles slightly but Clarke sees her trying to keep herself collected.

Lexa always said she doesn't care about her birthday. But Clarke knows she was excited with the prospect of celebrating entering her 30's with friends and a nice dinner - one Clarke is sure she'll have to call and cancel.

"I'm sorry, honey." Clarke doesn't fully know what else to say. She's a little mad at the three women, but it's not like they could have predicted a work trip or sickness. Still, her heart breaks, seeing her fiancee clearly upset after two weeks of excitment for her birthday.

"I'm going to have a shower and then lay down, I think." Lexa says in lieu of a response, the disappointment clear in her voice. Clarke manages little more than a kiss and an I love you before Lexa replies in a whisper and moves to their room, closing the door gently behind her.

Clarke would follow, but she knows Lexa will avoid letting herself fully cry over something she deems minimal while she is there, so Clarke lets her go.

When 1 hour later, Lexa has not made her way out of the bedroom. Clarke decides to take a peak, her heart breaking further when a sleeping Lexa's breathing shakes with the last of her quiet tears. A kiss to her forehead that seems to even out Lexa's breathing is the only thing Clarke seems capable of doing before she exists the bedroom, set on baking Lexa's cake and giving her the birthday she deserves.

A quick call to the restaurant as she tries to wrap Lexa's frilly smaller apron around herself changes the dinner reservation from 5 to 2 people and with all the ingredients and the messy recipe from Abby she wrote down on a post it note, she gets to work.

Turns out, baking is not Clarke's calling. Her google history shows a collection "how to know when the egg whites are stiff" and "how to melt chocolate without burning it" searches but she finally ends up with a batter that her mother aproves of.

It is close to midnight, almost 7 hours after Lexa's been in bed, that Clarke finally finishes the decorations on the cake. It's by no means professional, but what she lacks in backing skills she'd like to think she makes up for in buttercream painting, the pretty flowers all around the cake making it look less like a 5th grade art project.

With the cake in the fridge and the kitchen cleaned out of any evidence, Clarke hops in for a quick shower before getting into bed, her movements waking up Lexa momentarily who instinctively turns to cuddle into Clarke's arms.

"Why were you up so late?" It's slurred, and Lexa doesn't even open her eyes to ask the question.

Clarke, realizing just how tired she herself is too, answers is a barely there fashion, "Got distracted. You'll see tomorrow."

Lexa replies only with a hummed agreement, burying herself in Clarke's chest. Although Clarke is positive, she heard the happy birthday, Lexa does not reply.

The next day is a blur until dinner time comes around. As always, Lexa is out the door before Clarke makes it out of the shower, making the happy birthday wishes quick and underwhelming in Clarke's opinion and although Lexa is not beaming with the excitement Clarke wishes she had when she tells her dinner is still on, the sweet smile Lexa gives her when she tells her, its worth it.

She feared dinner would feel empty when it was first supposed to be bigger, but they are placed by the window with a wonderful view and Lexa arrives wearing the dress she excitedly bought for today and refused to let Clarke see until now, the pearl dress making Clarke take a deep breath and reminding herself tonight is all about Lexa.

Lexa's excitement grows over dinner. They sang her happy birthday at work, something she would have hated before but her entire team got her the prettiest flower bouquet (that she gladly dropped at home, and that gladly does not fight Clarke's smaller but very meaningful arrangement) as well as a little necklace with a pearl, making it clear to her just how appriacted she is. Abby called to wish her a happy birthday, giving her a sweet talk about how happy she was that Clarke had found her. Luna sent her a thoughtful message accompanied by a picture of them at only 12, a memory Lexa had forgotten about. Anya and Raven video called her on her lunch break and sang her the stuffiest birthday song in the world, but it was nice to see their faces as they wished her a great start to her 30s. And of course, Clarke herself has made today so much better than she was expecting, with all the cute messages throughout and reminders of everything she loved about her.

As they arrive home Lexa is slightly tipsy and seemingly very ready to celebrate her birthday in her birthday suit. But first, Clarke worked too hard on that cake to let it not be seen.

Lexa already has her hand on her belt when Clarke manages to stop her.

"Wait wait wait, I got something else for you!"

Lexa looks at her confused and ever so slightly annoyed at not getting what she wants. As much as she loves the cake they ordered, it is massive, and Lexa dislikes to think it'll mostly go to waste with just the two of them.

But as Clarke turns around, the uneven coating on the cake looks nothing like the one she knows the bakery makes. Clarke approaches Lexa carefully the smaller cake placed on the coffee table, the pearly 30 candle matching Lexa's dress.

"There was a set back ans the bakery couldn't get your cake out so, hum, I called mom and got the recipe for thst cake you love."

Lexa feels the tears burning in her eyes. She doesn't really care that the bakery couldn't make her cake. She would have canceled it if she had remembered it yesterday. Instead, Clarke took it upon herself not to let Lexa be disappointed over one more thing. She stayed up late to make sure she baked a cake Lexa loved, decorating it in the style Lexa sends her over instagram dms over and over again because she just finds those cakes so pretty. Clarke was the one who wanted so badly for Lexa to feel celebrated and happy today. There's no one else she'd rather spend her birthday with than her future wife.

"Haopy birthday, beautiful." Clarke smiles at her, and Lexa could burst into tears with just how grateful she feels. Instead, she kisses Clarke, nearly bringing the cake down with her. Clarke kisses her back with just as much passion, burting at the seems with happiness that Lexa is this happy about it after she feared today would be all disappointment.

"I love you." Lexa tells her, now sitting on Clarke's lap as she lights the candles on the cake.

Clarke smiles and tells her to blow her candles and make a wish. Cheekly, Lexa tells her she's got everything she wishes for right here.

"Well, you can always ask for a little more." Clarke nudges her with her nose, urging her to do it, smiling as she watches Lexa close her eyes, and finally blowing out the candle when her wish is made.

A year later, Lexa lays in a hospital bed when there's a gentle knock on the door. There are ballons all around her, more than dozen flowers bouquets, congratulations written all around. Clarke enters the room slowly, a small cake - the one the bakery promised for free - in her hands.

"Happy birthday momma!" Her wife whispers as she makes her way to the bed.

A small noise distracts Lexa momentarily, the small noises of last year's wish as he stirs in his little hospital crib before settling back down to sleep, born exactly one day before Lexa's birthday.

"They wouldn't let me bring a candle up, so I fear you dont get to make a birthday wish until we bring you and our little boy home." Clarke is radiant, so clearly tired but looking even happier than she did last year.

Lexa shrughs, tired but so incredibly happy for it all, "I think this time I really am all out of wishes. What more could I ask for?"

[popcornforone]

Upon One’s Self

A Dave York Fan Fic

It’s been a while but happy Dave York Saturday. You’ve missed them haven’t you? I have. This was never the plan for this week, but then last Saturday someone in a conversation gave me an idea & now here we are with filth for our stabby stabby.

Synopsis:- you’ve come back from a top secret mission with the army, but you need to go through protocol first.

Word count:- 5800

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING AS THE MAN IS A MENACE! PIV unprotected sex, fingering, lack of consent, previous relationship, hook up, easy fuck, squirting, swearing, daddy is used once, work colleague having sex, dominating & controlling behaviour, choking, spitting.Basically standard Dave. This is also Young Dave so he isn’t seen as being a cheater.

Thanks as always everyone for the read. Hope you enjoy peoples.

8 months you’d been undercover. Very few people knew. You only told your family you were going on tour with the army. But no you had a special mission. One only a handful knew to about. It’s been scary & multiple times you thought your cover would be blown, but you survived, flashes of the nightmare you endured creep into your sleep even before you were out. It’s been hell.

4 days ago your supervisor called you back. Enough intel had been gathered, enough for a strike to happen. But you had to be out of harms way within 30hours or you would join as an unfortunate. You were told to report to the nearest outpost. That’s someone high up would come & get you within a week, & explain the situation, you would be rewarded beyond anything you could imagine for a low level corporal. Not many Americans are in this area, with your training & previous special ops experience you were prepared for a hostel hosting from the outpost, to be questioned, to be intimated, to even possibly be taken out of an equation, those are the rules. You knew this was the game, but that’s also part of the reason why you were sent on this mission. You’re strong & you know what you’re capable of. You are one of the best at what you do. Only a handful are better.

You were greeted by 4 guns pointed at your head as you arrived. All shouting at you to drop to your knees before getting within 10ft of the outpost. You did as you were told. Your Hands on the back of your head, making sure they can see your US army dog tags hanging around your neck, you’d remembered to put them on as soon as you knew you weren’t being followed. You’re a little bit breathless & tired, walking for more than 2 days in the desert has had its toll. All you had was the rations on you, & 2 bottles of water.

“Name & rank?” & voice over a tannoy booms & you reply clearly with your full name including all of your military information.

“Why are you here”

“Classified, contact Admiral Loughton, tell him the detachment is back” you say & lift your head. You blink, unable to see in the scorching sun. So bright, it had not been your friend. You are trying to make out how many people are near you. But then you are plunged into darkness. A black bag thrown over your head. You don’t mean to scream but it’s instinct as you are pushed to the ground. The material the only thing protecting your face from getting scuffed up by the dirt, dust & stones your face was being buried into. You’ve been in worse situations than this. You are Completely flat face forward, hands still on your head, as another hand pushes you down. You can almost taste the dust in your mouth.

“Check her pockets” it’s a voice you recognise & you gasp. Surely not. Not here. You’re then dragged to your knees & across the dirt & into the compound, wondering if the voice was a ghost or if it really was him.

The bag is lifted off your head about an hour later. You squint & blink before then adjusting to the dim light. It’s a small grey room. One window, a matress, a sink, a toilet, a table, 2 chairs & a hole in the wall for food to be delivered. Compared to where you had been on the mission in the last 8 months this was an improvement. You knew this was protocol, you knew this would happen. You’ve previously had to observe people who claimed to be us army officials who have come back or arrived at the wrong out post. It’s not nice but you are all fully aware of the drills. It’s just worse for it to happen to a woman than a man.

The door creeks open a while later, sounding like the hinges have never seen oils. The sound of army boots heavy on the floor clonking. You lift your head as the door shuts & your eyes are wide. Your ears didn’t deceive you. It was his voice.

Standing before you is Dave York. He was 2 years above you when you joined army training. He taught you a lot. You used to come up with strategies in notebooks, plan the missions you would one day both hope to be on. Often you exchanged rations, decided to split your phone calls you were allowed when it was someone’s birthday or celebration you knew. You looked out for each other. He was a confident first, then a friend, then a teacher & for one brief afternoon a lover. You were nervous before going on your final training assignment, that you didn’t think you were ready for & Dave calmed you down in medical examination room by sticking his hand down your trousers. You weren’t caught but Dave railed you that afternoon. Making your cunt contract in the most exquisite ways. The look on his face as you came & he snarled before his own orgasm, will be a look you will never forget. It worked. You were much calmer before the assignment. When you got back & told Dave excitedly how it had gone, he informed you he had been posted to a special operation & he wouldn’t be back for a few months, but to wait for him. You watched him pack his bag, taking one of your note books with a couple of jokes in, just to make him smile when he was down & alone. This was 5 years ago.

You’d tried to keep tabs on him but he was a ghost, a very good ghost, you did this up to going on this recent mission. Part of your brain always Wondering if he would look for you too. That’s why you became a special operations recruit, to find Dave. But you’ve never been put on the same mission or exercise. Maybe he was too good, or maybe you weren’t or maybe you were even better than him, you weren’t sure. But every time since that afternoon when you’ve thought about him or had sex with anyone, it’s just not the same as the release you had with him.

Dave stands there & looks you up & down. You can’t deny you do the same. He’s still in brilliant shape. That green tshirt touched every mussel on his torso, those shoulders are so broad. The way he grip the clipboard tightly, with those large hands. Not one hair is out of place. Yea he’s still glorious, unlike you, you think. You’ve not washed for a week & you’ve had to escape & track through a Harsh desert. Your clothes still stink of the camp fire from your mission. Your hair hasn’t been cut in months, there’s dirt & dust in every crevice. Blisters on your skin, sunburned in places. You are not the girl Dave would ever want to come back for.

“So…” he says softly reading out your name. He scoffs reading out your paper work. “Long time no see”

“Yes corporal…”

“It’s first sergeant now” he interrupts. A smug look on his face that he’s leapt up the ranks.

“I still prefer Dave” you reply.

“& id prefer sergeant York or sir” he’s very formal, as he rubs his bare forearm.

“Yes sir” you say & nod with a polite smile. You know this will get rough but at least it’s someone you know. “I gotta be honest, it’s nice to see a familiar face” you state. “8 months is a long time being undercover”

“I can imagine” he says as he walks further into the room & grabs one of the small chairs & sits behind the table. The clip board you can see has all your official data on, clearly they have checked you are who you are. It’s only as you look at it that you realise your dog tags are attached to it, you hadn’t even realised they were not around your neck anymore. “So 8 months, why such a long mission?”

“It was compulsory, could have been longer. special ops take time to deliver intel, to make sure we get the right person, surely you know that” you say presumptively. Dave looks up at you. Dave exhales sharply through his nose, tapping the clipboard against the table a couple of times. His gaze is unreadable, but you catch the flicker of something in his eyes, curiosity, irritation, or maybe even something softer.

“I know how it works,” he replies, voice measured. “What I don’t know is why you were sent. Why you specifically.” You lean back against the cold wall as you are still standing, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’ll have to take that up with Admiral Loughton.” His lips press into a thin line.

“I already did.” He tilts his head, studying you. “They were very keen for me to keep you here until further notice. Which means either you’re extremely valuable…” His eyes darken slightly. “Or you’re a liability.”

“Surely You don’t believe that.” Your jaw tightens.

“I don’t believe anything yet,” he replies smoothly, lacing his fingers together. “All I know is you walked into this outpost alone, with no backup, carrying classified intel that I don’t have clearance for. That makes you a security risk, regardless of how well I used to know you.” You swallow, watching the way his forearm flexes as he leans forward. He’s playing the role well, keeping the professional barrier between you. But you know Dave. Beneath the cool, disciplined exterior, there’s a flicker of something else.

“I didn’t come here to be interrogated,” you say finally. “I followed protocol. If they told you to hold me, fine. But you know I’m not a threat.”

He tilts his head slightly.

“Do I?”

You feel a twinge of something dangerously close to hurt. Has he really forgotten how dedicated you were, it may have been 5 years since you last saw each other but the man must still remember certain things, be it personal or professional, were you really the friend who kept a a lot of information in a notebook or were you just an easy shag who he befriended. Before you can respond, he pushes back his chair & stands, looking over you. His expression is unreadable again, but his eyes, those sharp, knowing brown eyes, are scanning you, looking for something. A crack in your armour.

“You’ll be in here until I get further orders,” he says. “Until then, you eat when I say, sleep when I say, & answer when I ask you something. Understood?” You stare at him, heart pounding. The way he’s looking at you, it’s not just authority, it’s something else. A test. A challenge. You recall that he likes a challenge.

“Yes, sir,” you reply, voice steady & do the training salute you used to do to each other as a joke. Dave holds your gaze for a moment longer. There’s a small smile on his face, he remembers.

“So you know how this part has to go” he states sternly.

“Yes sir” you gulp. Suddenly remembering that it’s about to get extremely intrusive.

“Good” he throws a chair your way. “Sit” you do as obliged. He reaches into his back pocket & puts on two black latex gloves. “Legally I now have to say for the recording that I First Sergeant David Christopher York am about to conduct a strip search to insure that there is no contraband…” you both know this is legally bound to be said. After this point the recording will end & then Dave will destroy all of the clothes you are wearing & inspect every inch of you. It will be violating but it must be done. Who knows what you could have on you or inside you. If anything is found Dave has the right to do whatever he has to, to remove it. When he finishes his speech about your rights you gulp.

“I consent & I can calmly before we start, state that I have nothing upon one’s self, I am clean.”

“I’ll be the judge if that” in the corner of your eye you see the camera light blink 3 times & then go off. It’s now just you & Dave.

Dave exhales & stares before believing orders.

“Stand up”

You obey without hesitation. Your pulse quickening, suddenly there is no saliva is in your mouth, it’s dryer than the dessert you walked through. Usually a strip search is by someone you don’t know but today, it’s someone you know, who you’ve searched for. It’s Dave.

Each touch even with the gloves on makes you flinch, your arms out stretched as he pats you down. When he kicks your legs apart you try not to think of the naughty things he would do in other circumstances, with this move. The way his hand skims down your spine sends shivers, you’re just not sure if they are of desire or from being scared.

“Tshirt, off”

It wasn’t a request, & you don’t hesitate. Your modesty disappeared a long time ago. You slowly reach the hem & peel it over your head. Your body battered & bruised, you’ve lost weight in the last 8 months. Daves trying to keep it calm & professional he has a job to do. But he looks at your bra, memories of sucking on your breasts, flag back to him. How your nipples respond with each lick. How you whimpered his name. He know his jobs going to get harder the more he orders your undressing.

His hand instinctively while checking your skin, skims over your bra, he can hear your breath hitch. It makes him smirk, he try’s not to show you, but you can sense it.

“Trousers too, belt first, throw it towards the door.” His voice is hoarse.

With the belt gone as you step out of the trousers (your shoes were taken on arrival) you feel the most vulnerable & petrified you have been in the last 8 months. In your bra & panties as your body shows your increasing pulse standing in front of Dave. He’s more of a challenge than any special operation.

His gaze never leaves, his own heart pounding. He remembers it all so well. He remembers his intention of coming back too, now filled with guilt, but maybe just maybe he could set this right.

You hear the knife blade spring free. It’s from behind you as is Dave. It slices through the back of your bra with ease. You shake your shoulders so it falls to the floor without you touching it. His large hands go up & down all over your bare back. Dave exhales sharply. His touch lingering on your exposed skin.

“Turn around” another order & you do so. Your eyes closed, no wanting to see Dave’s reaction to your breasts. He sighs as he looks. There they are, the pillows of joy he once tasted, still perky, the coldness of the room & their exposure making them erect already. His hands gently lift them up & check nothing is underneath. You gasp & wince at one touch & he stops. His hand softly goes back & sees as incision to the side of your left breast.

“What happened?” He asks softly, concerned by the wound. Clearly older than the mission you have been on, but still a violent shade, enough to make him ask.

“Syria 2 years ago, I was the lucky one” he sighs, he had been in Syria too, he lost a friend in a lobby when a building fell down on them.

“Sorry” he says before he softly rubs it. Hands that kill being extremely gentle with you.

The room falls still & silent for a few moments. Your eyes flutter open as his hands Grace your ribs. But there is no time to mourn the loss of friends & colleagues you know the drill, & this is no time to get personal either. Dave then takes your hand & walks you in just your panties over to the table before he drops to his knees. Your stomach clenches, butterflies appear as his gloves fingers go into your waist band. You don’t realise you’re panting, but Dave does. He slowly & deliberately rolls them down from your hips & down your legs, lifting your feet up to free you from them. Along with the rest of your clothes they are tossed in a pile to be destroyed. Your hands grip the table behind you As he slowly parts your legs. Your hadn’t shaved in the 8 months & you should not be feeling aroused but feeling this hands even if through a glove on your thighs heading for your sex make you whimper. You can’t stop it escaping your mouth. You look up to the ceiling telling yourself in your mind that it’s just a usual strip search, but you’re also then thinking it’s Dave. & you know where those fingers have to go. Those fat delicious fingers.

His jaw tightens & hes trying to be calm. He has a job to do, he stands there looking at it. That perfect little cunt, that was so tight for him, that made him feel so good. What he does next is instinctive.

You hear the spit & you gasp. He’s got moisture on his gloves & your eyes bolt open even before he gets close & you look down at him.

“Let’s at least make this comfortable for your” it’s a steal line delivery. You see the spit in the black gloves as he spreads your open. You try to stay silent but your can’t. You moan. Three fingers slip inside your pussy, curling up, stroking your walls. Your body has missed this sensation from anyone, but to get it here when you can’t say no from Dave, your walls contract.

“Fuck” you pant as he softly moves around. He’s trying to keep his mind in the job but he can’t. Your hips are moving, he can sense the arousal that will be covering his gloves. He should withdraw them now, he knows your cunt has nothing inside it but he’s here, a few more pulses to make your feel good won’t hurt. He thrust his fingers in a few more times. Your toes curl.

“Fuck Dave”

“Sir”

“Fuck Dave Sir” you whine. He tries to cough over his laugh but you hear it. You then moan at the loss of being filled before his hands grip you & spin you around, you bend over the table you know what’s coming, & you know this is the best position for this professionally & sexual. Dave does the exact same inspection on your arse hole. You stand on your tip toes trying to not moan, wondering if he would take you from behind. You are breathless when his fingers come out. He looks at the mess of your privates, clearly aroused, your sex dripping, your arse puckering. He takes his gloves off & tosses them into the pile. He’s feeling his trousers tighten, but he knows he can’t or shouldn’t. Not when you’re so vulnerable. He sighs & shakes his head.

“On the chair” again more demands. You pull yourself off the table & sit down. Your hands in your lap to cover your modesty, which even if you didn’t have much to start with has now been completely stripped away. He drags the other chair over & sits on that. Your head was lowered but he’s lifted it up with his fingers. “Cavity check” he says & you open wide. Dave then inspects every tooth to check there’s nothing unusual, except for the back molar with the suicide pill. Standard issue for special ops. He sighs when he’s done & you close your mouth.

“All clean” he state & you let out a big sigh of relief. You look propely into his deep brown eyes for the first time since he started getting intimate with this strip search. He also lets out a sigh before saying “good girl”. Before then standing up abruptly & marching towards the door. He pounds it 3 times & is delivered some clothes moments later that he put on the chair he had sat on.”For you, for protocol” he says seriously.

“Yes sergeant” you reply & you see Dave twitch. Clearly he likes it when you say that. You try to not make it too obvious that you know he likes that. He always liked it when you called him by his rank. “Problem sergeant?” You ask, his face is flustered & blushing, he gulps, his Adam’s Apple quivering. Dave clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His hands twitch at his sides, like he’s not sure whether to fold them behind his back or shove them in his pockets. You’ve never seen him this flustered before. The temptation to lick your lips is growing.

“There’s no problem,” he says, though his voice betrays him, a slight waver in his usual authoritative tone. He lifts his chin, trying to regain some composure, but his blush is still there, creeping past his collar.

“Good. I’d hate to think I’d done something to rattle you, sergeant.” You smirk as you say the line, before moving your hands to your side. Your legs do part but it’s a clear sign to Dave of your intentions. His jaw tightens, & for a moment, you think he’s about to rebuke you, to remind you of protocol, but instead, he exhales sharply through his nose. His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity there that wasn’t present a moment ago.

“You’re pushing it,” he murmurs.

“Am I?” You start to twist your hair with one hand as the other trails down your body, to that place he wishes to plunder, your voice softer now. Teasing. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sergeant.”His breath catches. Just slightly. But you hear it.You shouldn’t enjoy this as much as you do, but there’s something about watching Dave, from memory he was Always so composed, so in control, but now fall apart under the weight of something unspoken between you.For a long moment, neither of you moves or speaks. The air is thick with tension, the kind that crackles like a live wire.

And then, finally, he speaks.

“Fuck you” he shouts & the kicks over the chair & marches over to you. His face is like thunder. As red as a strawberry that’s about to burst. But his eyes are wide & filled with desire. Those heavy boats stomp over to you & he gets to you then grabs you around the throat. You gasp & your legs part.

“Wanna play it that way darling?” He questions “want a proper search? Want to be properly violated?” His grip is harder, you gasp but croak the words out.

“Yes sergeant” you lick your lips. Suddenly his spare hand is down your throat attacking the gag reflex. You splutter.

“You don’t just obey, or eat or sleep when I say” he snarls forcefully removing his fingers which now drip in saliva. “You also don’t cum until I say you can” your cunt quivers just thinking of that.

“Yes sergeant” there’s no pleasantry’s. Those sodden fingers are thrust inside you. You go to gasp but can’t make a sound as he kisses you in a frenzie, not waiting for permission. His tongue being more thorough than he was earlier with the inspection. Only breaking to spit in your mouth & then continue again. Moans escape you when you have a chance to breathe. Over stimulation is happening. Your clit, so neglected over the last few months. This fat thumb making sure it experiences the pleasure it deserves.”so fucking needy” he says but doesn’t return to kissing you. He’s concentrating on his rhythm, while those eyes burn a hole into your skull, they are filled with lust.

“We’re gonna count down from 5 & on 1 you’re gonna cum” he says & you pant but don’t reply.”answer me god damn in” he grips your neck a bit more. Your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

“Yes sergeant” it’s a whimper.

It’s the slowest count down you’ve ever heard but as soon as Dave mumbles 1 which is just audible you combust. Drenching his hand, squirting, your slick coating your thighs, pubes & the chair beneath you. Your whole body trembles. You had little time on your 8 months mission for self pleasure, so this feels like an ungodly power to suddenly have. To find that release of ecstasy.

“Good girl” he says before removing his fingers & sucking two clean before letting go of your neck & slipping the two sodden fingers in your mouth. “Forgot your cunt tasted this good” he says & then tuts. “But look you’ve made a mess,” he shakes his head sarcastically. He then grabs the hem & pulls off his green T-shirt. Every muscle defined. A few scars from past missions but other than a small trail of hair going from his belly button to where was now tight, he looks spectacular. You lick your lips, still tangy from the cum. “Like what you see” he says has he undoes his belt before lifting you up. Your naked body pressed against his bare torso. He feels firm, your hand automatically glides down his body. Over those abs, down the happy trail & into his trousers, gently tugging his penis once you’ve made contact. He closes his eyes & groans, his face full of want & need. To have this cunt once more. He then remembers he’s meant to be calling the shots & pulls your hand out of his trousers. “Who gave you permission?” He says sternly.”I could have you suspended for sexual harassment?” He says coldly as he unzips his fly.

“I could say the same Dave” he raises an eyebrow as you say this before he lifts you up & plonks you on the table. You lie down already a mess but waiting for pleasure to consume you.

“Didn’t hear you complaining 5minutes ago?”

“& you shouldn’t have got me aroused during the strip search”

“Do you always answer back?”

“Yes” you say forcefully “you always liked the challenge back in the day”

“Yes I did” his trousers & boxers pool on the floor & he kicks them away. He strokes his length a few times before pulling you near the edge of the table. He licks his lip as he rubs his length against your dripping cunt. “& I know you liked it hard & fast”

“Yes…. Oooooh fuck” no words are needed, he’s not even slowly edged in. You’re filled to the brim. He’s so girthy, so big, bigger then you remember. Your whole body judders in delight as the special spot it already being hit.

“Fuck sweetheart” he groans on the second thrust. “So fucking tight” his large hands grasp at your flesh. His hips already moving at a rapid pace. “best cunt” his eyes close & he rolls his head before they blister open as you moan.

“Fuck Dave more more” his eyes bolt open

“Needy little whore”

“I’m in need of a good fuck”

“Are you?” He leans over & grips your neck again. “Well it might be quick, but I’ll have you wishing for a special strip search every day” the grip is tighter around your neck. You sit up a little trying to get air into your lungs. Your thighs turn to jelly, your pussy contracting. Pleasure hits you with each thrust as Dave increases his movements. The sweat dripping off him more precious than water in the desert. He’s glorious. The intense eye contact & tension in a room filled with wants & moaning as you both give into your lust. You know you could both be in huge trouble for this. Dave would be much more fucked over than you but all the while he is fucking you, he doesn’t care. He is enjoy each contractions inside you, your cunt gripping around him. He’s looking as your eyes glaze over. He listens intently each time you say fuck. It makes his heart leap & makes him thrust more. He’s at one with you like this is the last time he will fuck anyone. He doesn’t break the eye contact until he can feel your own rhythm change.

“Usually I’d be more dominant” he grunts, feeing his own release coming”but I want you to cum for as long as you can” he looks down at his penis which is sodden. “Cum for me, cum for daddy” you don’t deny him. You see all the stars as you let go. Your body feeing like it’s on fire in a good way, every nerve tingling, a release like no other.

“Fuckkkk” you scream. “Yes yes yes” that sets Dave off. A couple of seconds & thrusts later & he can’t hold back. He quickly withdraws knowing he wasn’t using a condom & ropes off his cum cover your torso. White & sticky. He closes his eyes as he jerks it all out.

“Oooh yes sweetheart yes” it splatters as he mumbles, before he then grips the table so he doesn’t fall down. You lay there completely spent, panting. Feeling more on edge that you had for the mission. You dare not move. You close your eyes & try to calm down.

You suddenly feel something damp & wet grace over your sex. Not again you think but also secretly wanting more. Dave had got a cloth to clean you up. Being delicate with those large hand that had been choking you only minutes ago.

“Dave” you whisper. He pauses & then looks softly at you.

“Yes”

“I’m guessing this goes no further”

“Yes” he says & he then throws the cloth in with the clothes that are to be destroyed & looks at you. Memorising every inch of you, from your horrible scars to your beautiful brown eyes. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing you delicately. This was the Dave you remember from the past, you cup his face, as you let his tongue dance with yours & you both moan, as you move closer together. Your hand runs down his back & squeezes his bum. He lets out a soft giggle. “& it’s sergeant” he says with a wink. He then steps away & starts to redress as you put on the new clothes he got you.

“Yes sergeant” you reply. As you fasten the last button on your shirt, you glance up at him, watching as he adjusts his belt & straightens his tshirt with practiced precision. The air between you still hums with the heat of your lust, but the moment is already slipping away, replaced by the weight of unspoken rules and the reality of your situation.Dave clears his throat, his expression unreadable once again.

“You stay here until you receive the all-clear. Shouldn’t be long.” You nod, shifting on your feet, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed you still feel despite the fresh clothes. He notices, of course he does he’s Dave York, but says nothing. Instead, he steps towards the door, his hand resting on the handle before hesitating.

“What else am I gonna do Sergeant” you hear him sigh softly.

“I dunno, but I know you’ll be good to go soon”& then he’s gone, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts & the lingering taste of him on your lips.

6 days later you’re released. Your mission a success, your superiors proud & the strike was hit with precision. You know you have served your country & the world well.

As you cross the tarmac to get onto a plane, you are a different person to the girl who arrived at this outpost. Shiny prestige uniform, a hair cut, clean, well fed, you feel more like you again, ready to head back home. As you walk, you hear your name being called. You stop & remove your aviators, your uniform & medals as perfect as they can be. A far sight from the girl who arrived at this outpost a week ago. Fast walking towards you is Dave, with a little book in his hand.

“Sergeant” you say wondering if he will call you by your new rank.

“Major” he says & you try not to laugh & look smug. He salutes you with the gesture you both used to do, as you are now higher ranking than he is. “This is yours” he says. You grab the book wondering if it was from your mission, but it isn’t. It’s the little note book he packed. A note book you both used in training years ago. Worn & damaged over the years. “It was always my intention.” He gulps Looking awkward, scuffing his shoes on the ground…”to return this to you but you were off on your own missions when I returned from mine & so I kept it upon one’s self, just so then I knew part of you was always safe” he lifts his head bashful, the dominant man drifting away to show his own vulnerability “…so that you were always with me”

You turn the book over in your hands, the faded cover rough beneath your fingertips. Flashes of the past come rushing back, late-night study sessions, scribbled notes in the margins, inside jokes no one else would understand. You swallow, caught between the weight of nostalgia & the gravity of the moment.Dave had always cared.

“You kept this all these years?” you murmur, flipping through the pages, the ink smudged but the words still clear. Dave shrugs, his usual confidence faltering.

“Yeah… figured you might want it back one day.”He try’s to bluff. It had meant something all those years ago. You look up at him, studying his face, the same, yet different. Older. Wiser. Just like you. The silence lingers between you, thick with unspoken words. You should say something meaningful, something to acknowledge everything this gesture carries. Instead, you offer him a small smile.

“Thanks, Sergeant York,” you say simply. He exhales, almost relieved, & nods.

“Anytime, Major.”

With a final glance at him, you tuck the notebook into your jacket & turn towards the plane. Your heart wanting to leap out of your chest & Wishing you could give all this up to be with him.

He made you who you are & you made him into the sergeant standing a few feet behind you wondering if he should join you. His thoughts betraying him.

As you reach the stairs on the plane you hear that familiar tone.

“Wait…”

You pause & smile.

[nepenthe-den]

First Touch

Hazard x Gn/reader. SFW

Word count: 1.3k

I'm sorry I've been gone for weeks :( I've been touching on this every now and then and I still love Hazard and have many ideas. Work and school have been a big burden this month, but I've managed to finish this to a way I like it.

I hope you all like it ♥️ I have more planned

The party with the Phreaks was long, but felt quite short. There was alcohol but you had only taken a few sips. You still had to walk home after all.

The bustling laughter of Hazard, Jackdaw, and Boomslang was beginning to slow down. Touch-Up had discreetly begun gathering empty glasses and plates to place in the sink.

You were beginning to grow quite drowsy as well, but you really really didn't want to leave. You felt so at home with these people. Suzy was right when she told you it was like a family.

You didn't know how to "family" very well, but tonight felt really natural.

"Ey, Jackdaw, sit back yer face is 'bout to smack intae the table." Hazard smacked Jackdaw's shoulder lightly. They grobbled a laugh and swayed before Revel grabbed their shoulders and shoved their torso back against the chair.

"Actually, I miss my bed.." Jackdaw hummed, leaning their head to hang off the chair before gagging and jerking back up, "Oh nevermind I'm not doing that."

"I think Jackdaw needs their nappies." Boomslang laughed, taking one last swig of her drink. Jackdaw was too wasted to even respond to her, but their un-synced blinking was a good enough answer.

Revel sighed with amusement before standing up, "I'll get them some water and help them get to bed."

"Goodnight Jackdaw," You snickered, smiling at their own wobbly smile and lazy wave, "Are you going to come back out, Revel?"

"Nah, I think I've had enough socializing for the night." Revel helped Jackdaw to their feet.

"Well, Goodnight to you too, Revel." You said as he nodded at you, helping Jackdaw down the hallway.

"Are any of you getting tired, too?" Suzy asked.

"Only a bit." Boomslang responded.

"My usual sleep schedule has me going to bed in almost 2 hours." Touch-Up sighed, "I'll be the last one asleep, I think."

"Nah," Hazard yawned and leaned back to stretch, his shirt riding up just a bit- and oh fuck you were staring. You quickly looked away praying your face wasn't red. You hadn't noticed the glance Boomslang and Touch-up shared.

"I am," You sighed, "and I should leave before I get too tired."

"Eh? Yer leaving?" Hazard stopped stretching and looked at you.

You laughed gently, "Yeah, I have to go home."

"You don't- er, want t'spend the night?" Hazard cleared his throat.

Boomslang narrowed her eyes and looked at Touch-up, who had her brows raised. Hazard quickly glanced at them, trying to ask without speaking.

"Well I didn't exactly bring my toothbrush." You say, turning away to get out of the chair and hide your flushed cheeks.

'You're bad at this' Boomslang mouthed at Hazard, leaning back in her chair.

'Help me out here' Hazard mouthed back, glancing at you to see if you were still turned away before looking back at Boomslang. She only smirked in return, turning her gaze to Touch-up, who was no longer amused.

You turned back around once you had gathered your things. You barely saw Hazard snap his head back around to you, his face uncharacteristically you flushed. You suddenly felt very hot from awkwardness. A moment or two of silence left you and Hazard blinking at each other.

"Well! Me and Touch-up are gonna head to bed." Boomslang announced, resting her hand on Touch-up's shoulder.

"Wha-? I told you I don't go to be-"

"Yeah, she's really tired." Boomslang shushed her, turning her away by her shoulders. She leaned forward to whisper something in her ear. Touch-Up sighed begrudgingly before waving you goodnight and walking off.

"Goodnight you two! Have a safe walk home, Y/n." Boomslang said, following Touch-up.

You turned to Hazard before bursting out laughing. His face changed from quite worried to relieved.

"That was weird, why'd she do that?" You snorted, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"I dunnae, Jackdaws shenanigans are rubbin' off on Boomslang."

You sighed, "Well, goodnight Haz, I had a lot of fun tonight."

"Wait," Hazard stopped you, standing from his chair. He cleared his throat, "Lemme, eh, walk ye home. It's nearly midnight."

"Really? You don't mind?"

"Nah, I like spendin' more time wi' ye." His voice became very gentle, and your face flushed deeply.

"It's cold out, and the walk is almost half an hour."

"I don't care, I want ye to get home safe." Hazard reassured you, making your heart thump in your chest.

Ugh, you were so head over heels. If you weren't standing in front of him you would have fallen to your knees.

He opened the door for you and walked beside you. At nearly midnight. In cold as fuck weather. The next 5 minutes were awkward and silent. You couldn't think of anything to say, and neither could Hazard.

"Why didn't you drink anything?" You suddenly spoke up. You turned your gaze from the sidewalk to look up at him.

"Oh, ah, I don't like it. Ma old man was an alcoholic... I like tae stay away from it." Hazard sighed softly.

Your brows furrowed, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, I donnae mind telling you." He smiled at you, and you returned a smile of your own.

A couple more beats of silence. And then you- just- started speaking and you don't know where you got the confidence.

"I had a lot of fun tonight. I liked being with you all. I felt- I felt so at home. I felt so natural." Your throat began to tighten, and you took a deep breath to calm yourself. "I like being around you." You made eye contact with him again.

Hazard swallowed nervously, and you could barely see his flushed face in the dark. He was surprised, and very nervous. Gosh, what should he say? The more he remained silent the more you regretted speaking.

You felt the prickles and heat of embarrassment, despite that, the cold wind chilled your hands. "Hah- ah, I should have brought gloves." Attempting to change the subject, you looked away quickly and rubbed your hands together to warm them up.

Hazard laughed quietly before taking one of your hands in his, making you jerk your head at him. He intertwined his fingers with yours and looked you directly in the eyes.

"I like being aroond ye, too," He finally said, "I want to spend more time wi'ye. Just the two o' us. I was thinking.. maybe, uh, dinner?"

Your smile widened and Hazard laughed again. You nodded quickly and tightened your hold on his hand.

"I'd like that."

"Yeah?" Hazard looked like an excited puppy. "How 'bout tomorrow? I can pick ye up from work?"

"Well I'd like to go home first and make myself look nice."

"Oh! Right, well ah think ye look nice all the time but- I can pick ye up at 6 then? Or 7?" Hazard's excitement was amusing you to no end.

"7 is fine you big goof." You giggled.

The rest of the walk back to your house wasn't as quiet. The two of you talked about your job, about Hazard's next mission with the Phreaks, and even Maisie. You found it endearing how Hazard always found a way to mention his dog.

Soon enough, you reached your front door. You really didn't want to let go of his hand, but you knew he couldn't spend the night.

Slowly and gently, you untangle your fingers from his and stand in front of your door.

"Thank you for walking me home."

In yet another flash of confidence, you leaned up to kiss his cheek. Hazard froze for a moment, his hands nearly coming up to hold you. He was speechless for a moment.

"Wow, hah! Do ah git a kiss every time I walk ye home?" He exhaled.

Gosh, your cheeks were going to hurt with how much you were smiling.

"If you ask me on a date every time." You hummed, "Goodnight, Haz, I'll see you tomorrow."

You slipped inside the house, leaving Hazard to cheer silently and take a few deep breaths before walking back home.

[virginburial]

Paradiso Chapter One: DECAMERON

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Warning: not a ton of smut, just tension! steve being a smug asshole n all. there's slight mentions of self unalivings that did not actually take place within the reality of this story. there's also a lot of swearing and adult topics being shared. I haven't written y/n fics in a hot second i felt so dumb writing this but i'll never know if it sticks or not unless i try!

word count: 4.5k

song: Clover Paradise by La Femme

masterlist for fic ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Within the rolling hills of Northridge, hidden behind ivory gates and golf courses, and underneath the dimmed stars that faded with the city lights; You lay on shingles, music blasting from under you and shifting your body with each thump of the bass. The sound of people chattering overwhelmed you, so you went out for a smoke on the roof, which felt like an everyday occurrence. Today was different, everything about this solar return felt different. Or at least, that’s what your boss on Eternal would tell you; each season of Eternal was one solar return, and just like the sun, you always came back. 

Eternal was just the Bachelor. Eternal was just the Real World. Eternal was cheap slapstick trashy television with no real desire to point at something and say “hey, I’ll say something no one else has, ever.” It also has two Emmys, all of them accredited to the showrunner, your boss, and nothing to you. You could produce circles around narcissistic contestants and hedonistic darlings that sleep around, hell, even one of your coworkers got caught for sleeping with one of the contestants. He got fired. 

And then his roommate followed suit. 

And then you.

Because you were bored. Eternal bored you. 

There was nothing Eternal could’ve done to make you stay anyways; no amount of baby daddy’s and cheating reveals made you want to stick around anymore. So at the wrapped party, instead of saying your goodbyes, you go to the roof to smoke. Classic y/n. 

“Hey! Dumbass!” you hear a voice from below, eyes nearly rolling from the sound of Steve’s voice. You were surprised that he was even allowed back into the Eternal mansion; especially with all the contestants still hanging around. You sit up and peer over the lining of the roof, your eyes meeting with Steve’s leather brown eyes, his smile getting softer and softer as he waved to you. 

You scoff. “Back for your sloppy seconds?”

“How did you know?” Steve projected back, smirking. Your eyes fall on Jonathan, his roommate and the PA for Eternal, who also decided to walk off set earlier before the engagement ceremony. The truth was, you knew Steve and Jonathan way before working on Eternal; in fact, you all moved out of Hawkins and to LA together just to work on this show right after graduation. Five years of working on Eternal went down the drain because Steve can’t keep his dick in his pants. “Come down here!” Steve beamed. “I have a surprise.”

“Is it you sleeping with another contestant?” you bark back. 

“God I wish.” Steve hummed, earning a slap from Johnathan. Steve flinched and glanced back at you, hoping that a surprise was enough to get you down. “Cmon, y/n. Please? We heard about what happened.” Steve expressed. That was enough to pique your interest, considering how messy production gossip was. Everyone on the set of Eternal knew that you and Steve were a package deal; one of the best producers in reality tv, if they gave awards out for it, you’d have just as many awards as Madonna. It was easy to toy around with other people’s emotions for the sake of good TV. Steve knew that pretty well, in fact, he was going to win the bet that you and the other producers always engage in every season. That was, until he got fired, and all his contestants went to another producer, who ended up winning. 

You climb down the roof, your hands grappling with the ledge of the shingles and slowly climbing down and jumping just a few feet to the balcony; though, you felt a sharp sting in your ankles. Your face, cascaded with the outside lights, stared annoyingly at Steve and almost ignored Johnathan entirely. You saunter around the empty part of the balcony, seeing the party just yards away from you. “What have they been saying?” 

“Oh nothing.” Steve shrugged. “Just that you quit because Fiona was busting your balls, and since we’re best friends, and I got fired, you left.” pretty straightforward, and true. You had just about enough of the showrunner’s bullshit and Steve was your rock. “But they’re also saying you slept with the light director-” Steve chimed. 

You gagged. “Roddy? Yeah-fucking-right.” you spat. “So what are you doing here? It’s not like you’re coming here to collect your prize for the bet.” You hummed.

The bet was simple; you have a group of contestants, each one of them wanting to end up with this season's darling, whoever’s girl actually wins the darling's heart, wins the bet. Last year, you won, and the year before, Steve won. Steve shook his head. “Fuck the bet, I have something better for us to gamble on.” Then he pats Jonathan's back. Poor jonathan. He was never that into the show and never rose to the ranks you and Steve did. So when Steve got fired, he didn’t mind leaving either. 

Where Steve was a bit brash, and you were…well, you. Jonathan always stayed Johnathan. Quiet, shy, but always on the verge of something; just nobody could guess what. Your eyes darted to Jonathan, who gulped nervously. “y/n…has anyone ever told you that you’re really intimidating?” Jonathan mumbled. 

“Seriously, Harrington?” you glanced back at Steve. 

Steve gets frustrated, reaching into Johnathan’s jacket and pulling out a thick stack of papers; bound together by staples and twine. He tosses it over to you, and having you catch it without it hitting your face. It took a second for you to realize that this was a script. How did Steve get his hands on one of these? He couldn’t have written it, motherfucker can barely spell restaurant. Your fingers grazed over the title page, and flipped through its sturdy pages, your eyes followed each word as your stomach fluttered with opportunity. The simple act of skimming through the script made you forget about the day you were having, but you had to remain calm about it, because the truth was that you had no idea what this was or what it could be about. All you could remember after flipping the pages back to the title page were the names; Imogen, Mac, Jesse. Imogen, Mac, Jesse. Imogen, Mac, Jesse. 

You stared back up at the boys, who were looking at you with eager eyes. Almost hoping you’d catch on to the plot or anything regarding the project they wanted to unload onto you; or include you in. The jury was still out on their motivations. “What’s this?” you questioned. 

“A script.” Steve hummed. 

“No shit, but what is it, really?” 

Steve sighs. “Okay…it's a movie-I know what you’re going to say, we have no experience making films, but have you ever considered that maybe us getting fired could lead to us doing other things out here?” Steve chirped. “Cus if anything’s for certain, I’m not moving back to Hawkins.” he expressed. You listen, of course you did, if your best friend was eager about something then it must be important. You knew he didn’t want to move back to work for his dad’s company, anything but that. 

The idea of making a movie intrigued you, because that’s why you came out here, you shot for television because it was easier, but really? Why come to Los Angeles if it wasn’t for the art of filmmaking? It’s what you wanted, even if you were used to producing trash television. You admired Steve’s ambition, always have, so you crossed your arms and expected more out of him besides some low level explanation of a pipe dream. “Okay, what’s the movie about?”

Steve bit his lip. “It’s these two porn producers that let an actor stay with them-”

You scoffed, leading into a laugh. “Alright, so you wanna film a porno.” 

“No, no. Listen to me. It’s not a porno…not exactly.” you tilt your head to the side. “Imogen and Jesse are married, and they produce pornos together, and their marriage sucks. They’re always fighting about when they should have a kid or something. Jesse is filming something avant garde and meets Mac, who needs a place to stay. Mac moves in. Chaos ensues. Next thing you know; Imogen is fucking Mac and Mac is fucking Jesse and Jesse is fucking Imogen but its all wrapped up into a pretty bow, until it isn't. Someone gets hurt.” Steve nonchalantly explains. “Someone always gets hurt. One person can’t express love the way they want and fall deeper in love with someone else, another realizes they shouldn’t be with someone, someone's way in over their head.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay…okay.” you stop him from continuing. “So Eyes Wide Shut meets Cruel Intentions-” “-no, it’s its own thing!” Steve explains. “It’s the obscure movie that you find close to the adult section at Blockbuster; but is it really there? If it’s next to the horror section?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “It’s a movie with shots that pay off in the end and filmed on a vintage film camera. It’s the movie that, if enough eyes are on it, could get awards-”

“-Great, I’m glad you learned what Oscar bait is.” you laughed softly. “All I’m hearing is porn porn porn sex sex sex. What’s the point of this movie?” you challenged. “Is it just what we do at Eternal?” you questioned. “Because I don’t see the point if it’s just reality tv on the big screen.” a sigh left you. “And between the three of us, I don’t see the point of even being in LA anymore. I mean, rent is through the roof. Fuckin-I had no job lined up after Eternal and with all of this fucking bullshit flying around about me quitting over you is gonna get me blacklisted off some sets. I’m ready to hang it up.” 

“No.” Jonathan finally spoke up. 

Your eyes flew to him, almost appalled he even spoke in the first place. “No?”

“No.” he repeated, stepping forward between you and Steve. “Maybe this movie isn’t the one that wins us some big award. Maybe it’ll be your average run of the mill indie flick with a small cult following. But it's the kind of movie you watch on a date, and the entire time you’re watching it, you hope your date sticks their hands down your pants. It makes your skin hot. It’s the kind of movie where the woman takes the lead. It’s buying lingerie for no one but yourself. It’s the feeling you get when you’re alone at the bar, and some handsome stranger buys you a drink and you look at him and you hope it goes somewhere. It’s hiking up to the Hollywood sign at night with a case of beer and a quilt with a girl you like. It’s carnal, it’s liberating, It’s taboo. It’s…it’s fucking french!” 

“Yeah! Fuck it, it’s French.” Steve chimes in as Jonathan continues. “Picture a California girl. Sun-Glossed, bikini-clad, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind that cuts down from the rocks along the Malibu coast. She turns, from the towel on which she kneels, salt and sand still clinging to her skin, and looks over her shoulder at you. Her gleaming eyes say: Welcome to paradise. They say we’re free here. It’s undoubtedly, shamelessly, beautifully Los Angeles. Straight out of the Decameron! An erotic thriller between a desperate porn producer and his bored housewife, and how their life gets flipped upside down by some vagrant from Van Nuys who fucks! He fucks them all but who really wears the pants? Who’s in control? Don’t you want to evoke that feeling without putting real people at risk for once?” Jonathan vocalizes. “Don’t you want to be free?”  

You stop at your tracks, your tongue going dry at the idea of it; fair, sexy, nasty. Maybe not everything needs to be so gray, maybe things can be black and white. Your heart beats out of your chest from Jonathan’s vigorous explanation. Steve’s eyes fall to your lips, his eyes scanning your expression for your next move; you weren’t sure you had one. He knew that. Steve tugs at his bottom lip. “What’s your craziest fantasy, y/n?”

Your what?

Your stomach rumbles with anxiety, you hoped that question had a point, and you hoped that whatever that point was, it’d pay off. Yet, the mere idea of Steve Harrington knowing what made you tick made you nervous. Your skin flushed a deep crimson as your mouth slowly opened to speak, but nothing came out. A smirk appeared on Steve’s face. “Cmon, first thing that comes to your mind.” he presses slightly. 

“I…I’m dressed up as whatever someone wants me to be.” you keep it short, and sweet. 

“I knew you like being told what to do.” Steve snickers, he turns to Jonathan. “Add that to the script.”

You roll your eyes and huff, your eyes shifting over to Jonathan. “Who wrote it?”

“Nancy.”

You scoff, then find yourself laughing a little louder than expected; a little longer than expected, and seeing Johnathan’s face fall from your revelation made it all the better. “Nancy? Your girlfriend, Nancy? The one that was a huge prude in high school and followed you here just to end up teaching at some school? That Nancy?” your arms fold themselves in front of you. “What does she know about sex?” well, you haven't had sex in over a year, too worried about your job. Maybe she does know a thing or two more than you. 

Steve shakes his head. “Hey, believe it or not, it’s actually pretty good. Give the priss a chance. Give Jonathan a chance. Hell, give me a chance, y/n-” “-and what exactly do you want me to do if we decide to move forward with it? Huh?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Steve leans against the stone railing of the balcony. “You and I are gonna produce it, I’ll even give you the executive producer title if it makes you jump on board. Nancy wrote it, and Jonathan wants to direct, film, and edit it.” oh how confident he is that you’ll say yes, even with the big, fancy title of executive producer. “Also, Robin from the sound department is willing to run sound and lights as long as word doesn’t get to Fiona that she’s helping us out with our film during Eternal’s off season. All we need are actors. Some coquette-ish bombshell to play Imogen, and two guys who are down to do anything to play Mac and Jesse. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Steve said with a relaxed tone. “Besides, you can produce circles around people, remember last season of Eternal? Where you had to literally talk someone down from a ledge? Now here I am getting you off the roof.” 

“I just went up there to get away from the party and smoke.” you jabbed. 

“So you go on top of it? Noted.” Steve jeers. “Like I said, it shouldn't be too hard.”

Shouldn’t be too hard? God she hated how confident he could be at times. “Why do you want to make this movie?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “I want an Oscar.” his head turned to the side, looking out to the city behind him, yet the answer did not satisfy you. You knew it was all jokes. Steve Harrington and you were not going to win an Oscar over a script Nancy Wheeler wrote, directed by Jonathan Byers.  “No.” you hummed. “Look me in my eyes. Why do you want to make this movie?” we could be making anything else; maybe even a show to compete with Eternal. But no, he wants to make a movie about Nancy’s wet dreams. 

Steve’s eyes met yours. “I…don’t want to pay rent anymore.” he answered honestly. You could tell in his tone that he was telling the truth. He was desperate to not go back to Hawkins, and deep down, you knew why. So, reluctantly, you looked down at the script in your hands, which had to be around a hundred or so pages; more than that rather than less, and sighed. “Let me read it, and I’ll get back to you.”

Steve clapped his hands once and smiled. “See? Read it tonight. Pour yourself some wine and read it, you won’t regret it. y/n.” 

Yeah yeah yeah, sure. 

“What’s it called? The film?” 

And Steve flashes the same fucking smirk he’s been sporting his whole life. It melts you to your core, he’s too charming for his own good. It’s why Jonathan’s a good roommate for him; they balance each other out so well. Steve stares over at Jonathan as he motions him to tell you. 

“Paradiso.”

Later that night, early into the morning, you drove home and parked on the side of the street, hoping some asshole won't side sweep your car this time. Your keys fall into a ceramic bowl as your eyes wander over to your roommate crashing out on the couch, mouth open and snoring loudly. You didn’t even bother to turn the tv off, which was conveniently on some episode of Seinfeld. Life kind of felt that way, like a fucked up sitcom. You hated that you couldn’t lounge on the couch with a glass of wine like Steve suggested. So you slightly stomped over to your room and closed the door behind you. 

You kicked off your shoes, and didn’t bother to take off your jeans but took off your bra, because you had to pick a struggle. You tossed the script over to the bed, but your eyes couldn’t stop staring at it. It had to be something great if it got both Steve and Jonathan excited, especially since Steve renders the Fast and Furious movies as masterpieces, and Jonathan loves anything directed by David Lynch. Two sides of the same unbearable coin, you were always a fan of Coppola; Sofia, not Francis Ford. 

You flicked on the light by your desk and grabbed the script, flipping to a random page as your eyes scanned the words. Where did Nancy learn how to write a screenplay? It’s not like her to know more about a script or screenwriting than you do. But maybe that’s where you were mistaken, because once your eyes hit the dialogue, you knew you had a hit. 

You knew you had a hit. 

And everything Steve was saying was starting to make sense. Not total sense, but just enough for you to be grabbing your blackberry and giving him a quick call. It had to be one am, but you knew Steve was still awake, it’s not like him to be asleep so early. Your fingers hit the number pads and your thumb hovered over the call button, and after a few short rings, Steve’s cherry laced voice could be heard on the other line; clearly in his car.

“Hey.” 

“Hey, what the fuck.”

“Hey what the fuck what?” he chuckled. 

You flipped a few pages, knowing that Steve could hear you on the other line as you bit your lip and started reading. “Imogen: I hate that you can do this to me so easily, it’s almost like you got a kill switch for me.” 

“Go on?”

“Mac: you make it too easy, Gene. all I do is flatter you. You don’t love me anymore than you love yourself. So instead of hating me, why don’t you show me how much you love yourself.” then you shut the script. “And then, she masterbates? And drags his hand over and he does nothing until she begs?!” 

“Genius, right?”

“Corny! It’s corny!” 

“So corny it’s genius.”

“Look I’m not saying it’s bad, this could very much turn into something. But I’ll help Nancy write better dialogue or something ‘cus this-?”

“-This what? This isn’t sexy enough for you?”

“Wouldn’t it be hotter if he forced her?”

“Consensually? Yeah, but actually, that wouldn’t make it hotter at all; because then the dialogue of her loving herself wouldn’t make sense. It’s a whole arc for her. It’s her having control over when and how she cums and instead of taking that control, she eagerly gives it to him. That’s the thing. That’s the entire thing.”

“Yeah but does that make anyone’s panties wet?”

“Maybe not all at once…why?” 

“Because mine aren’t. Look, I flipped to a random page and-”

“-and that’s where you messed up-”

“-would you stop interrupting me?” you snapped. 

“All I’m saying is, Paradiso is not a movie where you cum over and over and over again. It’s quality over quantity. What’s more enjoyable? One giant orgasm or 5 tiny ones?”

“Would it be selfish of me to say five tiny ones?”

“Well now you’re just being bratty.”

“Steve, I think we should do this movie. But not because I believe in it, but because I need money.”

“You and everyone else y/n.” Steve scoffed. “You don’t have to believe in it. But please just help me and Jonathan out? Especially with what happened with-”

“-Mhm?”

“...nothing.”

“What happened with who?”

“Me and one of the contestants.”

“Mhm…see, I already know you’re not ashamed of that because this isn’t even your first time fucking someone from Eternal. So spill.”

“...Nancy and Jonathan got into a huge fight a couple of weeks ago, Jonathan said he’d do anything to make it up to her, she gave him this script, and yeah.”

“You don't even believe in this either, Steve!” 

“Fake it till you make it.”

“We could make anything else, literally anything else! I could do Fiona’s job with my eyes closed! We could be showrunners, pitch a few ideas to the network and get our own slice of the Eternal pie. Instead we’re doing softcore porn-”

“Well, in case you forgot, sex sells! It’s why Eternal is such a gold mine!” Steve barks. “You think people only tune in for the faux pa drama you and I create amongst the contestants and the darlings? No! They watch because some hunky rich bastard is gonna be in a speedo for an episode for two while 20 ladies in bikinis all flaunt to him like a pack of vultures. That’s why it does well! And we know how to curate a social orgy because of Eternal, I kind of see this as a downgrade if anything.”

“...you’re really desperate to not go back home.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it didn’t mean something.”

“...okay, okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’ll settle for executive producer.”

“You’ll...settle?” 

“Take it or leave it, Steve.” 

“Okay! Okay, this is good.” you could hear him smiling through the phone, almost radiating back to you. “Thanks y/n. I just knew we make a good team because of Eternal. There’s so much we can do with this now that we have more creative freedom, y’know?” 

You knew. “Yeah…yeah. We need to hold auditions. Because the last thing I want is to see Nancy and Jonathan try their hands at being Imogen and Jesse.” you gag slightly.

“Please, Jonathan is too camera shy. Remember when he was almost caught on camera last season of Eternal? The season with-”

“-That guy who owned his own vineyard? And kept trying to sell wine on the show? Yeah, Jonathan jumped in the pool to avoid getting in the frame. Even though he totally could, we weren't even filming.” you laugh to yourself. Then you sigh. “...I'm gonna miss doing the show.”

Steve stays quiet for a moment, then responds. “At least you left knowing that ratings are gonna plummet next season ‘cus you won’t be around. It’ll all be Fiona's fault.”

“Seriously? Fuck her, I caught her with a gentleman caller last season and it was Vineyard guy! She was fucking last season’s darling! And she wants to fire you for being with a girl who got voted off anyways?” 

“I’m over it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’ll get in contact with robin about casting, maybe some disgruntled contestant wants to join us. She won’t be legally obligated to stay loyal to Eternal if she gets voted off of anything.”

“Robin or a contestant?”

“Does it matter? Robin hates working there too. Though, I totally mean a contestant.”

“Mhm…okay. Just don’t cast the girl you were hooking up with. It’s a conflict of interest. We’ll find our cast. But maybe not tonight.”

“Fair…hey! Before you hang up, I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“The question I asked you, about your biggest fantasy…” Steve drifts off slightly. “Were you telling the truth?” he asked.

“Yes and no. would never give that precious info away to Jonathan Byers.”

“Cmon, now you have to tell me.”

“Mhm…why would I do that?”

“For the cause.”

“What cause? The so-called erotic thriller we’re filming?”

“No, the reality tv show.” Steve sarcastically hummed. “Yes, the movie.”

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

Steve hesitates. “I…” 

“Exactly, that’s what I thought-”

“-No no! I’ll tell you.” he sighs. “I…I’ve always wanted to wrap a belt around a girl's thighs, like really tight, kinda just hog-tie her, you know? Then spank her until she’s begging me to fuck her, but I’m a little conniving bastard so I don’t right away. Just rub and finger her until she’s a drooling, mumbling mess. Then fuck her until she goes limp from cumming so much.”

Oh fuck. Your mouth gets dry. You weren’t expecting him to actually say anything, in fact, you were expecting him to joke around or even lie like you did; a white lie is still a lie. Instead, he decided to be transparent, which sent you over the edge both with the tension and how awkward it is to know about Steve Harrington’s fantasy. And how silly yours was in contrast. 

“Earth to y/n.”

“Yeah yeah, that’s one hell of a thought process. You should add that to the script instead of whatever mine is-”

“-you’re embarrassed by yours?”

“Well I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to.” Steve hums. 

“Fine, it’s…it’s dressing up as an angel and someone dressing up as a priest.”

The other line goes quiet. 

You continue on anyway. “And he worships me but also…spanks me with a bible-”

“HOLY SHIT.” Steve starts cackling, between heavy breaths and laughter, you try to explain yourself, but you too found it silly. “Hey! Some of us think priests can be hot-” “-you’re lying! You have to be lying-i know just about half of Hawkins will hate you if they find out you have a priest kink!” Steve giggles. 

“You’re one to talk, Dexter! Wanting to tie girls up ‘n shit-”

“-someone has a boatload of religious trauma.” he finally calms down, however, he continues to laugh slightly. “Is there something less disrespectful that you like?”

“...I can do a James Bond/James Bond Girl thing.”

“Okay, at least we’re getting somewhere.”

“Yeah, at least. I’m gonna head to bed. Wake me up when Robin’s figured out casting?”

“Sure, have a nice night, Angel-”

“-Oh shut the fuck-”

Call Ended!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

[da-extroverted-introvert]

Are we even friends? (tasm!Peter Parker x reader)

Fandom: The Amazing Spider-Man, Marvel

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 2.66k

Warnings: angst, death mention, grief

So I had a burst of inspiration and wrote this. I haven't seen the Andrew Garfield Spiderman movies in a hot minute so things may not be entirely accurate but please just roll with it. Working on a part 2 already, hope you enjoy. Please leave feedback!

Dividers by @lavendergalactic

Despite the gnawing feeling deep in your gut, you bring yourself to unbuckle your seat belt and walk out of the car.

You sit in the car and take a few deep breaths. You clutch the bouquet of flowers in your hand, trying to will yourself to step foot out of the car. Even after three months, this is hard to do. It’s like the first time all over again. The grief hits you just as hard as the day of the funeral.

You walk through the long, long aisle of headstones and grave markers. A bunch of people long gone who you’ll never know. It breaks your heart to know that to other people visiting loved ones, Gwen Stacy is just another headstone. Another person nobody will know again.

You finally make it up to Gwen’s grave. You kneel down and gently set down the bouquet. You stay kneeling there, just staring at your best friend’s name.

You take a deep breath before you start speaking.

“Hey. It’s me again.”

You pause for a moment, almost as if you’re expecting a response, even though there hasn’t been a single response throughout the many times you’ve been here.

“My grades are doing really good now. Applied for a few scholarships, and I actually think I might get into an Ivy League.”

You smile gently, knowing Gwen would be so proud of you. Whenever you doubted yourself, she would always encourage you. You remember the countless nights of her helping you with homework, telling you how much you’ve improved. She even said she was positive you’d get into the same school, becoming roommates and actually living together. Like sisters.

“Everyone in school misses you. They still talk about how amazing you were. How smart and how nice.”

Just yesterday you were walking down the hall past Gwen’s locker. There’s still plenty of pictures and decorations commemorating her. It gives you hope that Gwen will not be forgotten for a long time.

But you also think about the looks you get when you walk by. The sad, pitiful looks. You hate those looks. You also think some of those odd expressions are looks of confusion, as it was so weird to see you without Gwen Stacy right in front of you. You’ve always been Gwen Stacy’s best friend. People don’t know how to react seeing you without her.

“Uhmm…Peter misses you.”

You always choke up a bit at this part.

“We all do, of course, but especially Peter. I try to visit him every day. He doesn’t really talk to me though.”

Not that he talked to you too much before Gwen died, but you still felt like mentioning it.

“He just kind of sits in his room all the time. He hasn’t been in school much.”

The few times he has shown up in school, he just kind of ignores everyone. He must be getting tired of those pitiful looks in the hallways too.

“I’ve tried looking out for him. Like…like you would’ve wanted.”

God, you hate this. You really hate this.

“He just won’t let me in. I know he’s not going out as Spider-Man anymore, but he’s just not doing anything. He just sits in his room all the time. Not talking to anyone. Not even May.”

If he isn’t even talking to May, why would he talk to you?

You take a deep breath and finally stand up fully, your legs aching from kneeling on the hard ground for too long.

“I’m actually headed to his place now. I know he probably won’t talk to me, but I’ll still try. For you.”

You try to keep the tears back.

“Even if he doesn’t talk to me, May still lets me hang out. You know she makes the best food.”

You stare at her name again, not wanting to say goodbye again. But you know you have to.

“Anyway, that’s all. Thought I’d keep you updated. I’ll visit same time next week.”

You can almost hear her say goodbye to you. But you know it’s in your head. So you finally turn around and go back to your car, preparing for yet another uneventful visit to the Parker residence.

You knock on the door, preparing to put on a happy face in front of May. She’s such a sweet lady, you don’t want her to worry too much about you. She already has to worry about Peter, and you don’t want to put any extra stress on her shoulders.

Sure enough, May answers the front door with her signature sweet smile.

“Hey there, sweetie! Come on in, I just put on a pot of coffee, you must be freezing out here.”

She ushers you in and you revel in the warm atmosphere of the home.

“Thanks, May. I appreciate it.”

She dismisses your statement with a wave.

“Think nothing of it, hun.”

You sit down at the coffee table while May gets the coffee ready. While she does, you look around the home, which you’ve done countless times at this point.

Your favorite thing to look at is the picture on the wall of Peter. He must’ve been young, maybe sixth grade. In the picture, he’s at a science fair, holding up a nice red ribbon with “1st Place” written on it. May and Ben are standing proudly behind him as he smiles brightly at the camera. It makes you smile, seeing him so happy. But you also get sad, wishing he had some of that childlike joy back in his life.

May brings comes back in the room with two cups of coffee in her hand.

“Here you go, should warm you right up.”

You accept the cup with a smile, embracing the warm feeling on your hands. The warmth spreads when you take a sip. The coffee is nothing special, just as generic as any cup of coffee, but knowing that May made it for you and how happy she was to see you makes it taste better.

“Peter’s in his room if you want to say hi.”

She didn’t need to tell you where he was. You knew.

“Okay, I’ll go see him.”

You take a final sip of coffee and walk to Peter’s room.

You contemplate knocking on his door. You know if you knock that he probably won’t answer you, but if you just walk in, he still won’t talk to you. So, knowing the answer will be the same either way, you just walk in.

It looks like Peter hasn’t moved an inch since your last visit. He’s just laying on his bed, covered in blankets, head turned away from you. You know he’s awake though, you can tell by the way his body slightly tensed at the door opening.

“Hey, Pete.”

You speak gently, almost like you were afraid to scare him off. You close the door as softly as you can behind you.

“Missed you at school. I had the teachers give me your assignments so I can give them to you.”

No response. As usual.

You don’t know how to speak to him. You never really did. Neither of you really spoke to each other before he started dating Gwen, and when they did start dating, there was only small interactions between you. But still, you liked those small interactions. They were nice. Made you feel like you were sort of friends. But now that Gwen is gone, you don’t know where you stand.

Even so, you still try. You know that’s what Gwen would want. She wouldn’t want the love of her life wasting away like this.

“Have you eaten at all today?”

No answer.

“I know you’re, like, superhuman and all, but even so, you need to have some food in your body.”

You lick your lips and sigh, getting a little bit frustrated. It’s the same thing every day. You talk, he lays there, then you go home. You don’t feel like your presence is helping him that much, but if you don’t make an effort, you know you’ll feel guilty.

“How about some pizza? I can order one and it’ll be delivered in no time.”

As expected, no response. God, this boy is so infuriating sometimes.

“I know you hear me. Your spidey-senses kind of force you to.”

It’s still weird that Peter’s Spider-Man. You only found out about his secret by accident. You just walked into Gwen’s room, without knocking of course, as best friends do, and there you saw a surprised Gwen and Peter in his suit, mask in hand. That was a few weeks before the accident.

“Come on, Peter. You need to eat something. We can’t have you wasting away in here.”

“Why do you care?”

Even though his voice is raspy and not at all loud, you still flinch. That’s the most you’ve gotten out of him in three months.

“I, uh, what do you mean? Of course I care.”

“Why?”

His voice is a little louder this time.

“Because, we’re friends, Peter. I care about you.”

He sits up in his bed and faces you. You can finally get a good look at him. His once bright eyes, full of joy and mischief are dull and bloodshot.

“Since when? I mean, we barely talk.”

You don’t really know what to say, because it is true, you never talked with Peter as much as you would’ve liked to, but you still kind of thought those small interactions amounted to a friendship.

Just as you try to speak again, he talks some more.

“We both know the only reason we ever hung out was because of Gwen. And she’s not here now. So, please, just…”

He moves his arms around, trying to get his frustration across.

“Leave me alone.”

When he says this, he looks dead into your eyes, which are slowly but surely filling up with tears. You try not to let them fall.

You’ve been wishing for Peter to say something to you for months now, and now that it’s happened, you just want to curl into a ball on the ground.

Not wanting to be in the room with him any longer, you turn around and face the door. You put your hand on the doorknob but before you twist it, you turn your head towards Peter.

“I know you never really thought of me as a friend, Peter. A part of me always knew you just putting up with me for Gwen’s sake. But I always respected you, Pete. You were kind, funny, cool. Never mean.”

A couple of tears drops fall despite yourself.

“I remember when there was that Homecoming dance. You and Gwen were going together but I didn’t have a date. I was fine staying home, but you felt bad and invited me to come with you guys. You didn’t have to, nobody was forcing you, you just offered. Gwen didn’t even have to ask you to, you just did it.”

You wipe your cheek for a moment, still trying to keep eye contact with the boy in front of you.

“It was small things like that that made me like you. You’re such a good person Peter. I mean, you’re fucking Spider-Man, of course you’re a good person.”

You take one final big breath.

“So, you may not consider me a friend, Peter Parker, but you are mine. You are my friend. And I don’t have many of those, so, I’ve got to look after you.”

You finally twist the doorknob and open the door.

“It’s what Gwen would’ve wanted.”

With that final sentiment, you walk out of his room and speed past May, who is clearly worried about the tears on your face, eager to leave this house and go home to cry.

You spend the rest of your night watching movies in your room. You’re laying on your bed in your pajamas, bowl of popcorn in your lap. You glance at the opposite side of the bed. The side Gwen would sit as she laughed at the movies with you.

You try to focus on the movie, trying not to think about Gwen so much, and also trying not to think about your fight with Peter.

Was it even a fight? Neither of you yelled, but he did make you cry. He said some hurtful things. Things that were partially true. But you still didn’t want to see him. Seeing him hurt you a lot. All you can think about was the way he looked at you, with annoyance, frustration, anger. You felt bad for him, you know he’s grieving too, but he just made your blood boil and your eyes well up with tears.

Despite this, you know you’ll still visit him tomorrow. Because Gwen would want you to. Because that’s what friends do.

You hear a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in!”

Instead of your mom or dad like you expected, none other than Peter Parker walks through your door.

He’s actually dressed in New clothes, as opposed to the weeks old clothes you saw him wear earlier. His eyes look like they’re filled with guilt.

“Hey.”

You’re not used to seeing Peter Parker in your room. He only showed up a few times when he crashed yours and Gwen’s movie nights.

“Hey.”

Peter looks at the ground nervously, hand reaching to scratch the back of his head.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I have been an absolute jerk to you and you don’t deserve that.”

You nod slowly, processing his words.

“You’re grieving. I get it. It’s okay.”

He quickly shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s not okay. I know I’m grieving, but you are too. I’ve just been shutting you out when all you want to do is help. It’s not right.”

You have no words. You certainly weren’t expecting this, but maybe you should have. It is Peter, after all. He’s a superhero. Always trying to make things right.

“You have always been nice to me, and you never gave up on me, even when I completely shutting you out. I haven’t been a good friend to you, and I want that to change.”

Hearing him actual say that he wants to be your friend warms your heart more than it should.

You give him a slight smile.

“You can start being a good friend and have a movie night with me?”

At first, Peter looks shocked that you’re willing to just forgive him so quickly. But then the expression on his face soon turns jovial as you shoot over on the bed, allowing him to sit next to you.

You smile as you press play on the movie you were watching. You can feel Peter’s eyes on the side of your face, but you ignore it until you know he’s watching the movie. Both of you just sit and watch, hands leisurely grabbing popcorn from the bowl between you. It almost feels normal, natural.

It actually feels like you have a friend again. Not that he can ever replace Gwen. And you know you could never replace Gwen in Peter’s eyes either. But both of you are filling the space that Gwen’s death left. It makes things easier for the both of you. It’s nice knowing that you have each other during this difficult time.

After a while, when all is calm between you and Peter and the movie is almost over, you turn to look over at Peter.

“You know, I visited Gwen’s grave today. I visit every week. You could come with me if you want.”

Peter is still for a moment, eyes locked on the screen in front of you. You wish you didn’t bring it up, knowing that Peter is just now starting to talk about Gwen’s death, and now you may have pushed too far too fast.

But then he looks over at you, a sad but gentle smile on his face.

“Yeah. I think that’d be nice.”

[aventurineswife]

Hi I'm the anon who request Sampo for the Chocolate Day

Here's the story idea:

Reader want to make chocolate for Sampo so they decided to ask their friend for help which cause Sampo jealous because reader have been hanging out with their friend.

One day, Sampo confront reader when he saw reader has a chocolate box. Sampo thinks that the chocolate box is for reader's friend until reader reveals the truth that the chocolate box is for him

Chocolate-Covered Honesty

Summary: On Chocolate Day, you decide to make a special chocolate gift for Sampo, enlisting the help of a friend to ensure it’s perfect. However, Sampo grows increasingly jealous as he notices your time spent with your friend, suspecting there might be something more behind it. When you finally present the chocolates to him, Sampo initially believes they’re for your friend, but you reveal they’re for him instead, leaving him momentarily speechless. A playful yet heartfelt moment ensues as Sampo’s usual bravado cracks, hinting at a softer side.

Tags: Sampo x Reader, Valentine's Week Special, Chocolate Day, Jealousy, Romance, Playful Fluff, Humor, Sweet Gestures, Vulnerability.

[Art credits to roqkrcldhkdhk X/Twitter]

It was Chocolate Day, and the air was thick with sweet anticipation. With Valentine’s Week in full swing, everyone was busy finding ways to celebrate the people they cared about. You had a special plan for someone—Sampo.

For weeks, you had been thinking about the perfect gesture to show him just how much you appreciated his presence in your life. Of course, knowing Sampo, you doubted he’d ever admit to feeling the same, but the thought of making something personal for him tugged at your heart. Chocolate. Everyone loves chocolate, right? And you’d heard whispers that Sampo, with his sweet tooth, was no exception.

So, you enlisted the help of your friend. They were an expert baker, always crafting delicious sweets that could melt anyone’s resolve, and you trusted their skill. It wasn’t long before the two of you spent the afternoon crafting a rich, decadent chocolate treat that could melt even Sampo's hardened heart—assuming he’d allow himself to feel something so soft.

You made sure to keep it a secret, avoiding Sampo's curious eyes, but that only seemed to make him more interested in what you were up to. He had been far more distant than usual. Normally, you would have chalked it up to his usual antics, but something about the way he kept glancing over his shoulder whenever he saw you laughing with your friend made you wonder if it was something else.

The days went by, and you noticed Sampo showing up more frequently at places you’d go, though he rarely stayed for long. His attempts to act unaffected were becoming more transparent. He would make his usual cheeky comments, try to get under your skin, and offer you a trade—anything, as long as it involved a profit. But today, as you walked out of your favorite cafe with a small box of chocolates tucked under your arm, you could almost feel his gaze on you.

Sampo was waiting for you by the entrance, his frame leaning casually against the brick wall. He had an eyebrow cocked, his usual smile replaced by a faint frown, though his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

"Well, well," he drawled, eyeing the box in your hands. "What’s this, then? A little gift for your friend?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you did your best to hide the small blush that crept up your neck. "It’s... actually for you," you said, stepping closer and holding out the box. "I made you chocolate."

Sampo’s eyes flickered for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected that answer. He leaned forward, inspecting the box with exaggerated interest before his lips curled into a playful grin. "For me?" He paused, glancing around. "What’s the catch? Is this some sort of bribery scheme? I’ll tell you, I’m very hard to impress..."

You chuckled nervously, but your voice softened. "No catch. Just... a gift. I wanted to make something for you."

For a moment, there was a stillness between you, an unspoken tension in the air. Sampo’s usual swagger seemed to falter, just slightly. His eyes lingered on the chocolate box, and for the briefest second, you saw something vulnerable—something real—flicker behind his usual facade. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

He took the box from your hands, turning it over carefully before meeting your gaze. "Well, if it’s for me, then... I suppose I have to accept. But don’t think this means I’m going soft, alright?"

You smiled at the playful way he tried to regain his composure, but something told you that, maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as unaffected as he liked to pretend. The chocolates in his hands were sweet, but your gesture had been even sweeter, and that made all the difference.

"Happy Chocolate Day, Sampo."

His grin returned, this time with a hint of something else—something warmer. "Well, I’ll admit it... you’ve got good taste. But don’t get too used to this side of me. It’s not every day I’m this... generous."

You both shared a laugh, and for a moment, the world felt just a little bit sweeter.

[insomniac4000]

Chained Together Chapter 5

Previous Chapters; One Two Three Four

Everyone knew you got to sidemen shoots on time, even the Sidemen themselves were penalised for being late. Florence had everything planned out, her outfit was sorted and hanging on the outside of her wardrobe, her Dyson air wrap was sitting on top of her dresser, her make up was also set up. She had settled on wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a slightly cropped beige jumper, she wanted to be comfortable. That also meant keeping her make up simple, but just enough so she didn’t look washed out on camera. The car was sorted to pick her up in plenty of time and her alarm was set twenty minutes before it really needed to be. This was her big shot and she couldn’t blow it.

When Florence arrived at the set she was shivering, partly because the air con was roaring but also because she was incredibly nervous. She looked around the room, giving polite smiles to people she recognised but didn’t know and looked around for someone she knew more and felt comfortable having a conversation with but also someone who didn’t look busy.

“Florence?” The brunette looked round towards the voice and looked up and smiled at Simon who was standing in front of her. He placed his arms out for a hug and she obliged.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Florence smiled politely, trying to steady her voice. She hoped she would be fine when the cameras started rolling, she always was.

“You too. Welcome to the madness, let me show you around and tell you how things work considering you’re new to the channel. You’ll be given a dedicated camera guy so any problems with the production side of things they are your go to. We’ve got drinks just up here on the right and the toilets are down the corridor but we’re not going to be in the studio all day. Make yourself comfortable there, we’re just waiting for everyone to arrive.” Simon explained as he walked Florence around the studio, she nodded along taking everything in. She opened her mouth to ask who the other guests were when she saw George and Arthur walk in squabbling.

“There was absolutely no way!” George protested shaking his head.

“Did you not see the directors cut?” Arthur started, he looked up to see Florence and waved enthusiastically.

“Hey Florence, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Arthur smiled as he walked up to her, George following behind playing on his phone.

“It’s why Esme and I were out celebrating the other night. Tea?” Florence asked making herself a drink from the drinks table.

“That’ll be great thanks. Your roommate made an impression on Chris, he keeps talking about her. Although he seems to do this about a new girl every week but hey ho,” Arthur half joked “Although it is the perfect time in a ChrisMD relationship, before he meets her and bored her to death.” Arthur added taking his cup from Florence, George laughed at Arthur’s comments, showing he was listening.

“Esme did seem quite impressed by him I have to say. And she usually has absolutely terrible taste in men, even worse than me and that’s saying something.”

“I’ll say,” George added. Florence stared at her cup of coffee stirring it vigorously. While Arthur sat on the sofa staring at his friend.

Arthur attempted to make small talk with the two of them and then the other guests arrived, Chip was first who immediately jumped on Arthur leaving Florence and George sitting on the sofa awkwardly. She desperately wanted to know what his problem was with her but knew it wasn’t the time or the place currently. Calfreezy and Theo were last, all of the Sidemen were yet to arrive; Simon, Josh, Vik and Harry were there. The other boys had five minutes to arrive before being classed as late. Florence was making some polite small talk with Chip, Cal and Theo getting to know them all slightly. She knew she would be chained to one of them for forty eight hours she might as well get to know them.

It was soon time for the shoot, as it was Simon’s video he was the one who explained to everyone what was going to happen.

“We’re going to reveal your partner on camera. For the next 48 hours you and your partner will be handcuffed together. There are only two ways to be released; the first is when you need the toilet, but don’t take the piss. We will know when you are just using it as an excuse to be set free and you will be severely punished when caught, and we will catch you. The other time you will be allowed freedom is a set period of twenty minutes in the morning to shower and get dressed. Apart from that you will be tethered together at all times, you have to eat and sleep like it. We will also be giving you tasks and things to do throughout the forty eight hours,” Simon explained and everyone either listened intently or cracked a few jokes. Florence nodded along, the reality of the situation really dawning on her, despite it being a simple enough premise the production was on a scale she had never seen before. She was focusing on that so much she didn’t have time to worry about who her partner would be for the next two days.

There was another short break before the filming started, Florence was reading a good luck message from Esme. She started a type a reply but found it difficult, it was like she could feel holes being burned in the back of the head. She looked up and to her side was George his blue eyes piercing into her soul. She looked back at her phone, typing a message to Esme who replied with a simple heart.

“Right can we have everyone standing behind Simon please. We’re ready to go!” John one of the camera men announced. Florence took a deep breath and stood up, slotting herself just behind Arthur, until she was asked to move forward a little so she could be seen.

“Welcome to We control Youtubers for forty eight hours!” Simon gestured wildly, his long arms stretched out as everyone behind him cheered. Florence knew that now would be the point in the video where clips would be played as Simon would record a voice over explaining the premise. She turned her attention back to Simon who was just about to announce the teams.

“Our first pairing is….” He paused for dramatic effect while the rest of the Sidemen started a drum roll. “Cal and Theo!” Simon shouted.

“NOOOO” Cal screamed causing everyone to laugh as Theo stood there arms out by his shoulders shrugging them in a what the fuck motion.

“Our next pairing is…” Florence could feel her heard almost beating out of her chest, she had the chance to either be with Arthur, a guy she almost knew but at least was polite, Chip who she didn’t really know at all or… “George and Florence!” Simon shouted. Oh great.

[dcggersedge]

He gets to be an annoying and smug little shit is the answer she would have given with an affectionate laugh, but much like whatever Gregory bets, that road of the conversation is interrupted and swallowed up by the sound of other guests behind them, eagerly trying to make their own way forward through the house.

She ordinarily doesn't mind drifting in and out of groups throughout the night. It's part of her job, and so long as she manages to scare them at least a little, nobody minds her brief appearances. Even if she hates crowds and strangers, the safety of it not really being her is enough that she's able to put that discomfort behind her and keep going with a scary smile.

Gregory isn't playing a role. As himself, he's being as brave as he can and trucking forward, even though he hates everything about the situation he's walked into. She'd hate to see that bravery laughed at by people who don't know or understand what he's doing, so she's happy to help him keep moving forward. If it protects that bravery even a little, then she can be proud of what she's done.

The spider zone, as they've taken to calling it backstage, is still as annoying to navigate as ever. Yunaka is short enough that she doesn't have to work too hard to dodge the tangle of webs overhead, but it always gives her the phantom sensation of webs dragging on her skin whenever she goes through here. The hand on her shoulder makes her shiver, but she resists the urge to start swatting at her skin as she guides him forward.

"Ew! Why do spiders even need to get that big?" There's no way that could be real. Bugs aren't that big of a deal for her, but she still shivers at the idea of something that big hunting her down. "I can't even imagine what I'd do in that situation, I think I'd just die to get out of it. The spider can have that win."

Thankfully, there's nothing of that size here, unless you consider the big bosses up top to be bloodsuckers. "We didn't bring in any real spiders, but I mean...you can't really promise that any place is totally spider free." There might be some hiding out of sight, or that moved in after they put the cobwebs up.

"We definitely don't have anythi- oh shit, hang on, close your eyes real quick!"

Once they move far enough to the room, a few rubber spiders on strings drop down from where they've been hiding, and flop around in the air as a silly, "scary" sound effect plays on the speakers. They're only about as big as your palm, but still. Yunaka places a hand on Gregory's head and tries to push him a little lower before he can bump into any of them accidentally.

Gregory Horror Show [Gregory & Yunaka]

modern AU