#I was technically supposed to shower today but it feels a lot later than it actually is and it's fucking with my desire to Do Things

[neganium]

Hh rn I'm hungry and stressed. Maybe in a minute I'll calm down. Tho worrying about food in the meantime isn't gonna help with that...

[esta-elavaris]

Was thinking of As it Was in shower (honestly where my best ideas come from besides late at night) and now I have questions. So as we know, in CTW Theo has modern items that are like a major lifesaver/plot point for her. My question is, will James have the same? What will he have!? My vote is something actually useful bc unlike Theo he's terribly posh. I would like him to have something useful but I also suspect he'll just like have, a pen and his phone and like maybe a pocket knife if he's lucky. normal person items.

Also I realize the answer to these are spoilers!!! So feel free to just say the only thing James needs in his pocket is that beautiful face and sharp wit. ♡

He has the undying love of the writer, and therefore plot armor of the sort to stun and amaze (and frustrate).

Nah, I kid, BUT I have been thinking about his no doubt posh upbringing and where that might lead, taking inspo honestly a lot from how the royals raise their kids. But we also know from sources beyond the movies that his dad was very very harsh on him, and I think the lack of an 18th century setting would allow him to push back against that a little bit more than he might've in canon - I don't think he'd be like, a rebel without a cause, running off to join a motorcycle gang, but it HAS had me thinking of how that would shape his life choices.

And I also think because of his personality and his strong sense of morality, he would thrive in a military setting no matter the time period. I think he'd struggle quite a bit with any sort of "lad" culture among young soldiers, but I also think his father would have contacts higher up that might get him a different path that typical recruits might not have to walk. I've found statistics like this very interesting:

BUT like I said, I think James himself would be frustrated by a station that's essentially all rank and little duty, and that fact would show in his career choices once he aged out of just letting his father/family expectations dictate those choices. And, of course, what all of this might lead to him having on his person is interesting ✨

It's literally 5am here rn and I haven't gone to bed yet because I'm working on the next chapter, so your timing is impeccable! I was also thinking about it as I showered today (or uh, yesterday, technically), so we're truly occupying the same wavelength.

I'll put where I'm approaching his modern!career from beneath the cut because like? It's not spoiler-y, it'll come through soon via infodump in his POV, so I don't see the harm in adding it here for those who choose to read it.

Basically, in my head his father arranged a cushy higher ranking job in the Navy for him, with the expectation that he'd make a name for himself, do well, and ultimately end up pursuing other ventures later on. However, James distinguishes himself so well in his role that he ends up pursuing a role instead in the SAS (there's precedent - Ant Middleton, who Theo's dad is based on, was in the Marines before he became an SAS operative), from what I gather "all" you need to be is an exceptional soldier within your specific brand of soldier-ing to apply to train as an SAS soldier. Few get through, but you can try. I think his dad would take a very dim view of it because SAS operatives essentially go to the most dangerous places, and do the wildest shit - there's a reason they need to be the best of the best, physically and mentally, to do what they do. I think James would be fully capable of it, though.

So I think James lives with his sister, who watches his place when he's stationed elsewhere, and endures his father's disapproval over the fact that he took what was supposed to be a cushy and largely decorative station and instead veered into the stuff that's actually dangerous, with very little glory or valour because so much of that work is highly secretive and cloak-and-dagger.

He's transported to POTC world while on active duty, hence his outfit when he arrives - I had folk being confused by the all-black outfit, he's not going through a goth phase, it's combat gear 💀💀💀 (although that had me SCREAMING)

[flockofdoves]

obviously there is no time that is Good or Convenient to have covid and i guess technically its good that this isn't happening to me in the middle of a time where i have more active work or school responsibilities

but also it just feels like Such bad timing in a lot of other ways

i literally Just was recovering after unrelated health problems over the past couple weeks that were making me so so fucking stir crazy i had plans to go out and really start planning my days for the rest of the summer doing things like going to rhode island again and going birding more and going to museums and stuff because i was at my fucking limit with being cooped up in my apartment recovering. but now i just gotta do that all over again for at least another 9 days from today

kinda sad about ending my summer this way. and also i'm gonna have to miss my niece's christening party when i really would like to see her again i've only seen her once since she was born :(

also there are just so so many issues surrounding my lease and roommate situation. my symptoms started on tuesday the 16th which means i should isolate til the 26th (i do not trust the new recommendations saying you can even go to work if you have covid after 5 days i think thats fucking insane and would be irresponsible of me with how extremely symptomatic i am right now)

my current lease ends on the 26th. so so lucky i don't have to move but every single thing about my roommate situation and how shes supposed to move out on the 26th is made so fucking complicated by this

because my roomate is still here the whole time i have to isolate i have to stay entirely in my bedroom outside of wearing a mask to go to the bathroom (and shutting the door and taking it off to shower or brush teeth) or quickly get food to bring to my room

and my girlfriend didnt test positive yesterday but it feels kind of inevitable considering that we sleep in the same room (and cpaps even aerosolize viruses further apparently) so its not like she can even stay in the other room for the time being while periodically checking to see if she's gotten infected

and also i put in repair requests earlier this week for issues with the apartment that preexisted me and my gf moving in but that over the past year i'd been too nervous about having maintenance come in and see how bad things were bc of my roommate until me and my gf deep cleaned last week

but the repair requests were not fulfilled within a few days and then i had to cancel them obviously once i tested positive. and so now that means i cant have maintenance fix anything til after the new lease starts... which means that we're gonna have to pay back my roommate the her entire portion of the security deposit and then pay for the repairs during our new lease for things that happened when she lived here before us...

it also kinda puts a wrench into any hopes i still kinda had of trying to reach out to anyone she knows to try to help her cat

and im sad bc i realized cats can get covid so i shouldnt even really be playing with or petting her cat over the next 10 days :(

also its gonna be so so weird bc ive already doubted that shes actually gonna move out at all and now its even more ambiguous bc like. if she ever communicated with me at all i'd find it very reasonable for her to ask to move out a little later so she doesnt have to deal with that or expose anyone shes potentially bringing to help her move or anything. but like i know shes not actually gonna communicate anything so if the 26th comes and goes and shes still here its gonna feel even weirder than it was gonna originally because i'll feel more unconfident about asserting like. you need to get out of here. when i can find a reason to understand why she'd unexpectedly need to stay a little longer

[scruffyplayssonic]

Are the ArchieSonic comics actually an 80's/90's syndicated cartoon? Episode 45: Boys vs. girls 

Welcome back to my look at the ArchieSonic comic series, and how it shared a lot of the same story tropes as a typical ‘80s or ‘90s syndicated cartoon! Today’s episode is the Battle of the Sexes, so ring that bell and let’s fight! Ding ding!

Episode 45: Boys vs. girls 

There’s only been a handful of these “episodes” that I’ve covered so far that didn’t actually happen in the ArchieSonic comics - the hiccups episode, the stuck in slow motion episode, the time travel to medieval times episode, and the characters being de-aged episode are about the only ones, I think. But this episode is another one where there’s not really any good examples of this, so let’s instead look at a few that only loosely fall under the umbrella of boys vs. girls.

The most obvious example I can think of is the story, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!” from Sonic #14.

In this story Robotnik and Snively decided that the best way to get to Sonic was by taking Sally and Bunnie hostage, and so they lured them into a trap with a fake mall.

But Sally and Bunnie easily turned the tables on their abductors and showed them how cool GIRL POWER is, or something like that.

They also had a laugh at Sonic’s expense because haha boys are dumb. 

I guess this story is technically boys vs girls, but I feel like the trope is supposed to be more about the people of opposite genders on the same team turning against each other, rather than it being heroes of one gender vs villains of the opposite gender. A good example of this is the “Into the Wilderness,” episode of Sonic Boom, where Sonic and Knuckles compete against Amy and Sticks in a jungle survival race.

All I know is that this story of Robotnik in full sexism mode makes me uncomfortable. I think even the title is insulting. Eggman from the games feels a lot more genuine in his self-proclaimed feminism, in that he despises all genders equally. xD  

I’m sure it won’t come as any surprise that this story was written by self-proclaimed feminist Ken Penders, and compared to some of his later material you could almost consider this empowering. This is the same man who dedicated a 48-page “Girls Rule!” special to the female protagonists that featured a naked Sally submersing herself in cosmic goo that told her that her misogynist father was always right because he had the power of God and Anime on his side, even when he was ordering her to marry Antoine or telling her off for having emotions.

Girls Rule! also featured Bunnie asking her boyfriend for validation on her appearance when she had to decide whether or not to get a necessary hardware upgrade that she would likely die without, Lupe being roboticised and considered dead by her pack because “Even a female can make the ultimate sacrifice on behalf of those dear to her,” (that’s a direct quote from Penders, BTW), and Julie-Su finding out her mind had been violated previously when her evil half-siblings had erased her memories not once but twice. Unrelated to the Girls Rule special, Penders also tried to kill off Sally simply because she “cramped Sonic’s style.” Such feminism. Much wow.

Bringing it back to the topic of boys vs girls, we can also see a lot of Penders’ so-called feminist writing on display in the way he wrote other characters’ interactions with Julie-Su. Vector was the main culprit here.

His mistrust of her for being a former Dark Legionnaire was initially justified, but it just kept dragging on and on and felt pretty sexist at times. But of course we shouldn’t forget Knuckles’ incel behaviour when he first met Julie-Su either. 

I really want to take a shower now.

While that’s all I have for material that actually appeared in the comic, former ArchieSonic writer, colourer, and cool person extraordinaire Aleah Baker also reminded me of some boys vs girls-ish stories that Ken Penders had pitched but never written due to his departure from Archie. These are in Ken Penders’ own words on his fan forum, accessible via the Wayback Machine (http://web.archive.org/web/20160324034614/http://www.kenpenders.com/forums/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=122)

“SONIC: GIRLS NIGHT OUT (SONIC #163) - Some teasing from Ash results in Mina and Amy Rose making their way into Robotnik’s stronghold to prove they’re just as capable on their own as any Freedom Fighter (re: Sonic). When Sally hears what they’re up to, she and Sonic head out after them, only to discover Rouge and Nic the Weasel are on the scene, each looking to abscond with the rare gem that will power Robotnik’s latest weapon. (16 pages if 1 issue or 2 11-page stories if spread over two issues)”

So once again not a full boys vs girls story, more of a girls trying to prove they’re just as capable as boys deal. It’s strange that Ken Penders kept on writing Mina going on Freedom Fighter missions (such as in the infamous Sonic #152) long after she had come to terms with not being comfortable in that position and happier as a pop singer instead. But then again Ken Penders famously didn’t read other writers’ stories or even consider them canon. Or maybe he thought he was getting back at Karl Bollers somehow by writing Mina that way? Who knows? Okay, what else have we got?

“SONIC: NEW WORLD ORDER (SONIC #167) - Sonic finally is informed of the duties of his new rank: Gentleman-At-Arms. His first task: accompany Princess Sally to Station Square as she sets up Knothole’s first embassy in a foreign land. Naturally, there’s some trouble before the group departs, including Sally’s displeasure when Sonic’s new rank means he can overrule her when it comes to security, as Antoine’s duties as head of the Royal Guard conflict with his proposal to Bunnie. (16 pages)”

Oh great, another story where Sally’s authority is being trampled all over. It was bad enough when it was coming from King Max the boomer, but this feels even more awkward coming from Sonic (and presumably her brother the newly crowned King Elias, as he’s the one who slapped that stupid title on Sonic in the first place). I’m glad Ian kind of just abandoned that whole Gentleman-At-Arms thing.

Sigh, another post that turned into a rant about Penders. Well, it’s bound to happen every now and then. Are there any other boys vs. girls stories I missed? Let me know in the comments! Next time… A Very Special Episode. I’m sure you guys all know where this one is going. 

[vickikowalewski]

Day 11 - June 2, 2023: Cinque Terre

Today started later than I wanted to. I didn’t wake up until 8am. I must be tired and needing to catch up on some sleep. It took a little bit to get going because I needed to eat, get ready, and pack my bag. This hostel has fresh made granola for breakfast (I watched and smelled them making it the night prior) and it was super delicious. The hostel worker also taught me how to use an Italian coffee maker. It’s really not that difficult even though it looks intimidating.

I ended up booking my Cinque Terre card online and man, was I glad I did that. The train station was complete chaos and the line for assistance for tickets went outside of the train station. The train was also absolutely packed. Pure madness.

I got off the train in Monterosso and the fun began. Monterosso is the only town with a beach so it’s quite scenic but rocky. I’ve heard the better beaches with sand are further away. That didn’t stop many people from laying out. I was surprised. It was warm but not that warm. Maybe mid-to-low 70s.

My goal today was to hike the trail between cities, or what I could. The trail between Monterosso and Vernazza started steep but leveled out. Lots of foot traffic and it was technically supposed to be a one way only but that didn’t work out due to the large number of people. I stopped in Vernazza and got some delicious street food and a Fanta that actually was from a restaurant. It was so good but so rich. There were a few bites I couldn’t quite finish.

The hike between Vernazza and Corniglia was surprisingly not too bad. I thought that was going to be the hardest part of the trail but it wasn’t at all. I celebrated with gelato in Corniglia. I decided to try something different and I got lemon and basil gelato. It was quite good and very refreshing.

I was feeling good so I decided to do the difficult hiking route next from Corniglia to Manarola. I think I should have waited for the next day because I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into. It was fabulous but quite strenuous getting up and coming down. You basically walk at the top of a mountain overlooking the sea and through a lot of vineyards. I wanted to stop for a glass of wine at a little wine bar in the vineyards but it was closed for the holiday. Bummer. I was okay until the very end coming down the hill. That last half mile just felt like it would never end. Then I got to Monarola and the entire town is sloped downhill. I could have died. My legs were jello. Looking at my phone, I just realized I was so exhausted that I didn’t even take a photo in Manarola other than beer. I was feeling really, really bad so I decided to stop for the day. I got a large beer, a focaccia, and a liter of water. It took a while but I eventually came back to life after some food. Finding the train home was also confusing and I was displeased to be walking so much at that point but I did eventually find it.

I decided I needed a shower before dinner because I was disgusting and sweaty. It was a good opportunity for resting my legs as well. I even sat while blow drying my hair. Dinner tonight was difficult to find because today is a national holiday. Everything was booked solid. I did find a decent place though and tried a new pasta, trofie. It’s like a longer version of a spatzle but similar texture. It wasn’t my absolute favorite but it was pretty good. I ended the night at the beer garden by the sea for a cocktail.

I am beyond exhausted but glad I checked this off my bucket list! Time for bed, goodnight!

[antiodote]

she can't finish and they fight - part III

warnings: drug/alcohol abuse, mention of purging, slight mentions of sexual activity (but not really)

"fuck you, harry."

part I & II

+++

she had slept in her car that night.

more specifically, she had parked in her gym’s parking lot and fell asleep in her car. her idea? get to the gym at 6 in the morning, run for an hour straight at an ungodly speed that might make her sick, shower and scrub her body so thoroughly that it hurt, get ready in the bathroom of said gym and arrive at work bright and early as if nothing ever happened. she even thought about getting some iced coffee on the way. you know, as a treat.

she also felt numb. so, so numb.

after she had left home - no, harry’s place - she wondered if all of it was a nightmare. some sort of hallucination that manifested itself into her brain after 6 weeks of straight malnourishment and sleep deprivation. never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he would ever speak to her in that way or do something like that to her; question her trust like that. she asked herself if she even knew who he was or if the last four years had been a lie, but somewhere between taking an impossibly hot shower and slapping tons of concealer under her eyes in an attempt to cover her dark circles, she had decided to not think about it for as long as she possibly could. she just wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t talk to anyone about it and she definitely, definitely, definitely wasn’t going to face him anytime soon.

and so, she arrived at work at 8:54 am, ready to get some work done and pretend that everything was as it should be. fortunately for her, it seemed to work out - for most of the day, that is.

she had greeted some co-workers, wrote down a list of to-do’s for the day, checked off those to-do’s one by one, had some coffee, ate some lettuce wraps for lunch and threw up said lettuce wraps, returned to drinking coffee and nothing but. with a few meetings here and there, some office gossip and a pile of work later, her work day was finished. she found herself wishing that she could be stuck in that loop for the rest of her life - or at least for another few hours - so she could escape the reality of things for just a tiny bit longer. things don’t seem to go to plan for her lately.

“you’re leaving early? is it christmas already?”

she turned around to find tony, one of her coworkers, looking at her with an expression that indicated humour. she wasn’t really up for humour right now, but she also didn’t want to seem any more off than she probably already did. so, she forced a chuckle and answered.

“well, technically, I’m not leaving early. I just finished my work on time and don’t really feel like staying longer today, honestly.”

“so compared to your usual hours, you’re still leaving early.”

she looked at him with a frozen smile that didn’t reach her eyes. she hated when people - no, men - repeated her exact words back to her as if she were stupid. she hated it with a passion. harry never spoke to her like that. she should tell him all about it once she gets home, she thought. 

as she realised that she couldn’t do that, she quickly turned away from tony to resume packing her bag.

“I suppose you’re right, tony. what can I do for you?”

he hoped her tone indicated her lack of interest in their conversation. she truly desired nothing more than to get out of this office and figure out her plan for the next few days.

“some of us wanted to get some drinks at this bar down the street. you know, the one that does trivia on wednesday nights? would you like to join us? you can tell your boyfriend to come!”

every single part of those sentences made her feel woozy. the idea of having drinks with her coworkers was absolutely atrocious; she couldn’t physically think of something that she would’ve liked to do less at that moment. however, the mention of him made her suddenly want something to drown out her thoughts with. she usually never resorted to alcohol, but the burn of some heavy liquor in her throat would for sure help her out, at least for now. she needed to feel something. so, without giving it much more thought, she turned around, smiled, and almost robotically replied.

“sure, I’d love to come. thanks for the invite! I’ll ask if he can make it.”

+++

8pm arrived and y/n was piss drunk. 

when they arrived at the bar her coworkers ordered a round of different dishes for the table while she immediately went for the drinks. beer wasn’t her favourite, so vodka would suffice. one drink turned into two, two turned into four and before she realised, she found herself 7 drinks deep into her own abyssal torment. none of her coworkers seemed to notice, either because they lacked interest or she was too good at hiding her intoxication. she barely spoke at the table, anyway. 

“so, y/n! where is that lovely boyfriend of yours? we haven’t seen him since last year’s christmas party. he was fun!” one of her older coworkers, maude, chirped. 

y/n looked up from her drink, slightly disoriented at first. she kept forgetting that the outside world wasn’t aware of how her life crumbled into pieces at her feet. 

act normal. act normal. act normal.

“oh, he’s been pretty busy. you know, with his music and stuff. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it tonight.” she replied. funny how she didn’t even know where he was, right now. 

“oh, that’s a shame. make sure to bring him around again soon! he did a whole coffee run when he visited you last time. even paid for my extra pumps of hazelnut syrup, the ol’ charmer.” maude giggled. y/n forgot how older ladies seemed to adore him. then again, everyone did.

she also did.

in an attempt to seem flattered, she shook her head with a smile on her face. she couldn’t possibly have any of them suspect anything. the last thing she needed was to be the subject of infuriating office chitchat. luckily, she found it quite easy to keep up fake conversation and with that, fake emotion. she truly didn’t care for the people she worked with. a job was a job, nothing more. sure, she loved what she did, but it didn’t change the fact that her job wasn’t her life, or at least, shouldn’t be. she barely cared about her boss, but she did care about the money. a lot. 

for all she cared, she was going to keep up the lie for as long as she had to, and she was fine with that. but maybe, just maybe, it gave her an excuse to pretend that everything was still okay between her and harry. she might as well treat her workplace as an alternate reality; a parallel universe where she could still go home to her lover and had never been kicked out of her own home. a home she helped to build with all the love she possessed in her heart. 

oh, what a waste of love, she thought.

“y/n, are you still with us?” 

“huh? what?”

people laughed. her eyebrows furrowed. she glanced around. she was confused. she felt embarrassed.

“oh, darling, maybe cut back on those drinks you’ve been chugging! I mean, I know you’re a heavyweight and it’s the weekend, but you just totally spaced out on us!“ lena - a younger coworker of hers - said, giggling her way through her remark.

“oh god, sorry. it’s been a long week, you know how it is.” she tried to go along with the joke, while truthfully feeling mortified for letting her guard down. “what were you saying?”

she honestly couldn’t care less. 

“oh, we were just talking about potentially making this a regular thing! you know, to strengthen team morale and all.”

she smiled. there was no way in hell. 

“sure! sounds fun.”

they nodded in agreement, believing her made-up enthusiasm. maybe she should’ve gone to acting school with how believable her act was. or they might just not care about her, just like she doesn’t care about them. they definitely didn’t care enough to ask.

the question was: who did care about her?

her coworkers don’t seem to do so. she’d barely seen any of her friends for a long while now. she hadn’t spoken to her family in what felt like forever. 

she always thought that harry cared.

harry. oh, harry. 

harry. harry. harry.

she suddenly rose up from her seat, pulling everyone’s eyes in her direction.

“I’m gonna use the restroom.”

and gone she was. 

her heart was beating unbelievably fast. she wasn’t feeling good, at all. maybe the alcohol did take a toll on her.

without checking her surroundings, she almost bolted to the restroom. as soon as she entered, she picked one of the empty stalls and found purchase on the sticky floor, almost dramatically sliding down along the closed door. she needed to breathe. her head hung low between her bent knees, her hands clasping around her ears. with her eyes screwed shut and her hearing now impacted, she was now robbed of most of her senses, grounding her somewhat. ‘please, please, please’ was chanted in her head like a mantra; she couldn’t lose her composure like this, anything else was not as important at this moment. 

“everything okay in there? should I get someone?”

her head shot up. fuck.

her breathing must’ve been heavy or maybe the words she repeated weren’t as quiet as she thought. she wasn’t sure who was behind the door, but she wasn’t strong enough to face them.

“uh, I’m okay! thanks for asking.”

silence. 

“y/n? is that you?”

wait, what? she knew that voice.

she got up to open the door and was suddenly faced with a very familiar face.

“jane?”

+++

harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt so hollow. with every moment that passed, he felt more and more like he was drowning. like he was making a terrible, terrible mistake.

the last thing she had said to him before she went to pack a bag was ‘fuck you, harry.��� and truthfully, at first, he was angry. angry at how they argued, angry at her for leaving, angry at himself for not asking her to stay. it was a little later though, right after the door slammed shut behind her that he realised he couldn’t have asked her to stay when he was the one who told her to leave.

and then it dawned on him. he told her to leave. he kicked her out. in the middle of the night. in a city where he himself had been robbed at knifepoint not too long ago. 

the panic kicked in soon after.

so, he called. and called. and called.

but she never answered. 

after the 30th call, her phone went straight to voicemail. that was when harry really started freaking out. 

where did she go? was she safe? what if something happened? harry wouldn’t forgive himself if something were to have happened.

he bit and chewed on his fingers until they bled. he didn’t sleep. his mind and soul were surrounded by an image of her in danger. in pain. hurt.

though, he hurt her that night. 

he was the one who put her in that situation. he hurt her. why the fuck did he do that? why the actual fuck did he do that?

when the panic passed, the self-loathing soon followed. he didn’t understand how things were so quick to turn around when they were more than okay a mere few weeks ago. he treated her like she was disposable and he doesn’t think he will ever forgive himself for it. 

when the hatred for himself outweighed the worry he had for her, he resorted to pills to find slumber that night. the sleep was terrible, but it was better than nothing.

he woke up the next morning, finding himself on his kitchen floor. he must’ve passed out then and there. he checked the clock just above the fridge. the time was 9:15 AM. if she was okay, she must be at work. he could go there to check on her, see if her car was there. but, then again, he felt like he was the last person she wanted around her at this moment. if she was even alive, that is.

his rationality came back to him somewhere after 11 in the morning, just after his shower. she was a strong and capable woman, she was probably fine. she had to be, or he was never going to be fine again.

he went back to the kitchen to fetch himself some water for his run. if there was one thing that helped him, it was running for miles and miles and miles ahead and drowning out his surroundings with music through his headphones. as he opened the fridge he was faced with a bowl that was filled with cubes of fruit. the bowl was shaped like a lemon and had the colour to go with it. he remembers how y/n had picked it out online, gushing over how cute and fitting it is.

‘you always sing about fruit! might as well have a lemon-shaped bowl, if you ask me.’

he remembers how he had chuckled in response, pulled her in for a kiss on her temple, and replied ‘whatever you want, love.’

why do those days feel so far away now? 

he looked all around the kitchen and observed how every nook and cranny of this house had pieces of her littered all over it. the kitchen clock; a soft yellow one with slender, roman numbering on it - she chose it. the light pink cabinets - she painted them. actually, they painted them together and made sweet love on that very floor when they were finished. every piece of decoration - she had collected them whenever they had travelled. he particularly took notice of a framed picture right next to the sink. a moment captured when they made fresh pasta at his mother’s house when they were there for her birthday, two years ago. he remembered the moment so, so vividly.

‘harry, for goodness’ sake! you’re making a mess!’

she was the one who rolled out the dough by hand, since harry had previously dropped the pasta maker on the floor, resulting in its break. feeling a little useless, he wanted to do whatever he could to make her laugh. so, he did what any child would do: poured flour over them. first, her nose. then, her cheeks. shortly after, her head. and when she was sick of him, she grabbed the packet from his grasp and poured every last bit over him. her glimmering eyes looked straight at his playful ones. she bit her lips, in order to deny him the satisfaction of a laugh, and he looked just about ready to burst at the seams. 

in that moment, his sister quietly took a picture, making sure to get it back to them for one of their birthdays. when she was done, she clapped her hands to gain their attention, and suddenly they stood there like deers caught in headlights. 

then, laughter erupted. loud, hearty, full laughter. 

harry had to physically shake his head to lose the memory. when a sudden sickness overcame him, he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach right into said sink. was this kind of behaviour normal after a breakup? he didn’t know.

breakup. breakup. breakup.

the word swam around his vision, making him want to gauge his own eyes out. were they broken up, now? could she ever forgive him? then again, could he forgive her for lying to him? his mind was swarmed with all sorts of questions that he had no way of finding an answer to, at least not anytime soon. 

he needed to go on that run.

so, he did. and ever so conveniently, he ran by her workplace. low and behold, her car was there, unscathed. relief flooded him, but so did dread. because if she was at work, that meant she was fine. which also meant that she didn’t pick up his calls on purpose. she didn’t want to talk to him. 

good. maybe they shouldn’t talk for a while. whatever. 

he ran back home and didn’t leave the house for the remaining day.

+++

jane was y/n’s lifelong friend. they went to high school together and were usually inseparable. however, with both of their schedules being as crazy as they were, they rarely saw each other these days. when jane saw the state of her in that bathroom stall, she paid for her tab and drove her home. y/n didn’t say much in that time, still in a state of sensory overload. it was only when she saw how they were approaching harry’s driveway that she spoke. 

“we can’t go there.” 

jane whipped her head towards the passenger seat. “what do you mean, petal?” 

y/n stared straight ahead. “we can’t go to harry’s place. can I stay with you tonight? I’ll explain everything.”

jane looked at her for a few beats longer, worry etched deep into her features, until she turned her car around and drove to her own apartment. just over 30 minutes later, they arrived.

y/n soon realised how drunk she truly was, especially when the glare of the white lightbulbs in jane’s bathroom made her head throb and her guts churn. she ended up leaning above the toilet bowl in an attempt to empty the contents of her stomach, however, her attempt was in vain; nothing left her stomach. and yet, she felt so empty. 

she wished that she had shouted at harry, maybe even slap him across his annoyingly pretty face. she wished she had done something to stop him from doing what he did. but alas, just like nothing left her now, nothing left her then. she was always so perfectly contained. harry had even told her on multiple occasions that she needed to let loose, even if it was just a little bit. he was good at helping her with that. she always felt so unbothered and carefree in his presence. 

oh, harry. what have you done?

“god, harry. you fucking idiot.” 

the first sob of the night left her. then came the second. the third quickly followed. all of a sudden, she found herself crying in agony over her best friend’s toilet.

“y/n, you okay?? can I come in?” jane called from the other side of the door, but y/n didn’t hear. the echo of her cries within the toilet bowl was too loud for her to be aware of her surroundings. thus, a very worried-looking jane came bursting through the door. as she found y/n in literal shambles across the bathroom floor, she couldn’t help but choke up herself. she’d never seen her like this, and it truly broke her heart.

“hey, hey pretty girl, it’s alright. I’m here, good god, I’m here. let it all out.”

jane ended up cradling y/n, almost like you would calm a crying baby, and y/n didn’t realise how much she truly needed it. however, she still didn’t dare to speak. she feared that, once she recalled the events out loud, they would become reality. she wasn’t ready for that to happen, not yet. maybe not ever, but definitely not now. 

so she cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left to give. jane and her wordlessly went to bed that night, bundled up in blankets to keep out the cold. 

y/n feared she might never feel normal again, if she even knew what that was. she felt like harry completed her, and that scared her to death.

when she woke up the next day, she finally threw up. with the vodka finally out of her system and her stomach basically cleansed, she felt a lot better than she thought she would. the headache was manageable and the nausea came and went. she could survive this.

she didn’t know about the rest of her circumstances, though. 

whenever the thought of him popped into her head, she did whatever she could to distract herself. first thing in the morning? she showered after her journey to the toilet bowl. after the shower? extensive skincare. when she saw her tired expression in the mirror? left the bathroom to borrow some of jane’s clothes. eventually, she had run out of distractions in the bedroom, so she escaped to the kitchen. when she started preparing breakfast and turned up the radio just a touch, she was reminded of him, again. soon enough, she realised that everything reminded her of him, and there was nothing she could do about it. would be too easy, right?

for the first time in a while, she felt vulnerable. raw. like there was no skin over her pain and a gust of wind could make it bleed.

the realisation knocked the air out of her for just a moment, but it was enough for her to turn the stove off and sit down. she felt as if she had just run up the stairs, in fear that somebody was chasing her. she felt out of breath, disoriented and weirded out. maybe she should go to that doctor to talk about her anxiety, harry had always-

“hey, you! making some breakfast? how kind.” jane chimed, bright and chipper, ripping y/n out of her thoughts. she caught her gaze, offering a smile. “oh, I was just up early today. the eggs are probably burnt, though. just a heads up.”

jane nodded and went straight to her bag of toaster waffles and popped one of them into her mouth. a quick turn later, she faced y/n with an apologetic expression. as much as she wanted to grant y/n her bit of privacy, she needed to know what happened. before jane could open her mouth, y/n spoke. she spoke and spoke and spoke, retelling the whole thing, from the moment she felt overwhelmed at work, right up to the point where harry kicked her out. this was the second day she wasn’t at his place, refusing to refer to it as ‘home’, and everything still felt awfully unreal. jane listened and listened until she snapped. 

“hold on, what? you slept in your damn car? why didn’t you call me? y/n, that was so unsafe, dear god!” 

she was pacing up and down her lengthy kitchen, trying to wrap her head around how her best friend’s picture-perfect relationship went to shit without anybody else noticing. 

“I know, jane, I know, but I wasn’t really thinking and I didn’t want to bother anyone. the two of us have barely spoken lately, and-“

“as if that matters! y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? my ride or die. it doesn’t matter if I see you once a week or once a year, I am the person you tell these things to, okay? I’m the person you ask for help!”

y/n didn’t answer, shame clouding her senses. instead, her gaze turned downwards and she started picking her nails.

“you’re staying with me until we figure this out, okay? I don’t want to hear shit.” 

when y/n didn’t answer, jane physically forced her to look at her by nudging her hand under her chin and gently dragging it upwards. “got it, petal?” 

y/n nodded.

“wonderful! oh, and if I see harry, just know I’m gonna beat the shit out of him. lord knows he deserved it-“

“you will not, okay?”

jane looked at y/n as if she had grown a third head. confusedly, she goes: “wait, are you planning to forgive him, or something?”

y/n became frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, okay? I just don’t know. I can’t face him for a bit, but I can’t tell you what’ll happen afterwards. please don’t hurt him, I know that you actually would.”

jane listened, processed, and nodded. she didn’t want to cause her any more emotional turmoil. 

“okay, dude. whatever you say. now, let’s plan this sleepover of ours!”

+++

it’d been seven days since harry had last seen her. with every day that had passed, his emotions spiralled.

his first phase: hatred. 

he hated her. he hated her boss, her work, her mindset. he hated all of the things he could blame for their fallout, thus also hating himself. he hated himself so much that he couldn’t bare to look at himself. when he wasn’t excessively punching things in his at-home gym, he got high and broke stuff. he called her and spoke spiteful things onto her voicemail. he cried angry tears and listened to angry, devastating music. 

the music triggered the second phase: sorrow.

he cried and cried and cried, especially to sad coldplay songs or the old records that his stepfather used to collect. the crying made him tired, so he slept a lot during this phase. though, as soon as he woke up, he’d be crying again. 

when the crying stopped, the depression came.

heaviness shaped his form. his feet felt too heavy to lift,  thus his bed became his permanent residence for a bit. his mind was hazy and everything he attempted to do sucked every last bit of energy out of him, resulting in a permanent state of exhaustion. 

his empty bed triggered his longest phase: loneliness.

he missed her. so fucking much.

he missed her smell. her peaceful, sleeping state. he missed how she would always have to collect individual hairs off of their covers because her hair just shed in heaps during her slumber. he missed how she’d look up at him when the first few moments of consciousness kissed her in the morning. he missed how he could lay his head on her soft chest and listen to her steady heartbeat. he missed how she would sometimes lovingly grab him by the jaw and pull him down to kiss his forehead. he missed how she used to make him coffee in the morning and he’d eat her out on the kitchen table to say thank you. he missed her body, every mark and every freckle. he missed her voice and wished he’d recorded it at some point. he missed the way she’d hug him from every angle. he missed how she could talk to him for hours about anything. he missed making love to her.

he missed being able to love her. 

he feared that she was gone now. far, far away from his reach. he had to make peace with it, though. right?

thus he welcomed his current phase: apathy. 

he didn’t care anymore; he wasn’t going to get her back. he’d fucked up too bad, so he resorted to resenting her for her mistakes. the negative emotions that were previously directed towards him only were now evenly distributed amongst her, him, their situation and the world. he didn’t want to talk to anyone, reach out to anyone, or even acknowledge his feelings in any way. as he cleaned up his house from the shards and pieces of the the things he had destroyed, he found a weird sense of serenity in the acceptance of his downfall. all was lost now, what else could go wrong? 

then, his phone rang.

he checked. it was sarah. 

he wasn’t going to pick up, but she’d called him a few times now. he didn’t want to worry her, so he finally picked up.

“hello?”

a sigh of relief left her.

“goodness, harry, where were you? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages! look, some things need to be picked up for the rehearsal dinner on tuesday. could you maybe handle it? I wouldn’t ask you but mitch and I have been super busy with everything else. pleeaasee?”

harry’s brows furrowed. rehearsal dinner?

then, he remembered. the fucking wedding.

mitch and sarah had been officially married for over a year, yet they never had a proper celebration due to obvious restrictions. and honestly, he’d completely forgotten about it within the last few days. a wedding for his best friends, which she was also supposed to attend. how on earth could he make this right?

“oh! and tell y/n to call me back, please! I’ve been meaning to talk to her about the dresses for the bridesmaids, but her phone is dead or something.”

without missing a beat, harry replied. “yeah, sure. I’ll tell her. also, send me what you need picked up and I’ll get it to you.” 

if there was one thing harry and y/n had in common, it was this: they would always put other people’s needs above their own, especially if it concerned their loved ones. there was no way in hell he would make one of his best friends worry about him when her wedding was just around the corner. he’ll pretend if he had to. but he was not going to fuck this up for them.

“oh, you’re an angel! I’ll send you all the details, thank you! I have to go now but give y/n a kiss from me, please. love you! see you later! bye!”

the phone beeped until inevitable silence.

right, so he had to hope that y/n would attend the wedding. no, he had to be sure that she would be there. not only that; he had to hope that she would agree to act normal around their friends, for now. 

harry needed to find a way to reach her. he might’ve fucked up his own relationship, but he was not going to spoil his friend’s wedding. 

wonderful. what could go wrong? except for absolutely everything?

+++

5.1k, not proofread (whoops), lowercase intended

PART THREE IS HERE HELLOOOOO

thank you for your patience !! i know it’s been a long time coming. parts of this were kind of hard to write for me, so excuse any ill worded sentences, please <3

i hope you enjoy this one! as always, all the love xx

-ve !!

[widowbitessting]

omg i love your sugar mommies series so much! i was wondering what the ages and heights of nat, wanda, and carol are in this au. thank you!

Hope this is okay for you! 

A Birthday Crush 

Words: 960 words (aww it’s the shortest thing I’ve written!) 

💋 💋 💋 💋 

"You can't be fucking serious?" Natasha growls as she glares up at the birthday banner you, Carol and Wanda have pinned to the bedroom wall. "I'm turning 32 dipshits not 50."

"Close enough." You giggle from the bed, squealing hiding yourself into Wanda when Natasha shoots her glare down straight at you. 

“Not a fan of feeling old babe?” Carol asks from the other side of you. Natasha’s eyes switch to the blonde now. 

“Whatever, Danvers; I’m 2 months older than you. It’s your birthday next.” 

“You’re two years older than me.” Wanda adds. 

“...do I dare figure out how many years we have between us, Natty?” 

She flops down onto you without a seconds warning and you can’t help but scream out in shock. Her legs land either side of yours, her hand clasping loosely around your throat.

“I’m starting to think Wanda is rubbing too much of her brattiness off on you.”

Wanda giggles beside you and taps your nose as Natasha’s hand tightens on your throat.

“What can I say? She’s a great student.”

“Y’know...it is my birthday, I can’t think of a better gift than spanking both your asses until they’re red.”

Your hand finds Wanda’s and you squeeze it a little, out of fear or arousal you can’t quite be sure. 

Carol, mercifully, comes to both your rescue; sliding up to the red head to pepper her cheek with kisses.

“C’mon baby.” She mutters, “we can spank the girls later yeah? For now, we’ve got a strict itinerary courtesy of our kitten. When do we need to leave, baby?”

“In about an hour.” You pant. You’ve been prepping for Natasha’s birthday for literal months, you don’t need to even consult the plan in your diary anymore. 

Natasha sighs. 

“Guess the spanks can wait.” 

She removes her hand from your neck and instead leans down to kiss you. 

“Any hints for my day or are you still being stubborn?” 

At that, you gawp at her. 

“Excuse me for wanting to keep it a surprise!” You giggle. “I wanna shower before we go though...”

“Ohh is this one of my presents?” 

“It could be...just later...we can’t be late.” 

With a lot of effort, Natasha peels herself off you and flops down onto Wanda instead. 

“You’ll play with me, won’t you?” Natasha asks, nipping at Wanda’s neck. She looks at you helplessly and you laugh into Carol’s shoulder as she cuddles you.

“We should have woken up at midnight to get all of this stuff done today.”

“Technically someone did...” She glances at Natasha who’s settling between Wanda’s thighs. “Doesn’t like her birthday my ass...she becomes the giddiest out of us all.”

You let out a startled gasp when you feel Carol’s fingers drift into your pants. 

“We can be a little late can’t we kitten?” she purrs. “Let the birthday girl ravish two of her favourite presents first...”

Your head falls back and Carol grins wickedly. 

“Suppose so...” You sigh, “who needs breakfast anyways?” 

💋 💋 💋 💋

Miraculously, you’re all ready with exactly one minute to spare. You’re all just about to leave the door, Natasha gripping your ass as you, when you suddenly remember something and stop dead. It causes the very excited Natasha to practically trip over you. 

“Hey why’d we stop?” she asks. 

“I forgot to get our heights.” 

“Our heights, baby girl?” Carol asks as Wanda inspects her hickey - courtesy of the birthday girl - in the mirror. 

“It’s a surprise for all of you...”

They all turn to look at you. 

“Consider us intrigued.” Wanda smiles. 

“...so your heights...?” You ask.

Natasha smirks and leans down to kiss you. 

“Well we’re all taller than you, detka.” The red head purrs, trailing her nose down your throat. “You should know this.”

“Y-yes I do…” You swallow thickly and shake your head to clear your thoughts. “Hang on, you’re like an inch taller, Nat.”

“Still an inch, baby girl.”

She licks her lips, eyes staring into yours.

“You cannot possibly still be horny, Nat; we just…y’know…”

“What? Fucked?”

Wanda smirks at your blush.

“You’re allowed to say it this once…” Carol seems impossibly close too. When did they all get so close to you?

“I-I…”

“Go on, baby. Say the naughty word and we’ll tell you our heights.”

“It’s not a trap is it? I won’t get in trouble will I for saying a curse word?”

Someone’s finger traces your lip, dipping into your mouth briefly to scratch at your tongue.

“No baby. It’s just a little treat for us to hear you say a bad word. Go on.” Natasha encourages.

“Okay…” Why do you feel so nervous? “Fucked.”

“There it is.” Carol grins. “Now say it in your sentence like a good girl.”

“What?”

“Before. When you were telling your daddy that she cannot possibly be still horny…even though you know she can go all night.” Wanda says.

Once again, you blush.

“I…Nat can’t possibly still be horny ‘cos we only just…fucked…”

Natasha surges forwards, connecting your lips with such passion, it takes your breath away. Your wrists are instantly pinned to the wall and when you let out a moan, Natasha’s tongue invades your mouth.

“I’m 5ft5, baby.” Natasha tells you.

Wanda kisses you deeply.

“I’m 5ft7.”

When Carol kisses you, your head falls back into the wall.

“I’m 5ft11.”

“Tha-thank you.”

“Gonna tell us why you needed to know our heights now?”

“Nope. I’m determined to keep it a secret. You’ll find out soon enough if you can peel yourselves off me.”

You somehow manage to detangle yourself from the three women and press the button for the elevator. Once you walk inside, you glance behind you at wink.

“Coming ladies? We’ve got a birthday to celebrate.”

💋 💋 💋 💋

Tag List:

@fishlikestuff @spartanghost118 @ironsnowstorm @romeo-the-cactus @brutashafan @midnightreme @your-my-mission @trikruismybitch @bitxhinthecomments @messuhp @severepeanutartisanhands @8plasma @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @khiaraaa-in-spacee @madamevirgo @selluequestrian @kaitlynroseb @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @coollemonsaresour @pianogirl2121 @loomontoia @wandas-lover @cybeleceto @tomy5girls @starmako26 @claudiamyan @emilyprentisslittlewhore @vynia @cordeliaswhore @angelicl-y @ashadash0904 @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all @stuckyforliife @ktstudies @your-my-mission @tomy5girls @coollemonsaresour @khiaraaa-in-spacee @emilyprentisslittlewhore @umsolikeblog @angelicblackwolf @pianogirl2121 @upsidedowndanvers @anastasiabeaverhousen87 @wrennieee-blog-blog @spiderling-18 @madamevirgo @beforeoursecrets @8plasma @imdreamingblo@wandas-love @mmmmokdok @greydinosauregg @crazylittlereader2474 @thatonehippiefriend @midgardianweasley @battleg03 @sav06nat @marvelwomen-simp @ineedafinghug @suki-is-a-queen @wandanatblogs @wandanatstan @im-in-demilesbians-with-you @crispychaospanda @raqelacevedo @harmoni0527 @starmako26 @osterfield23 @wandanatblogs @ophelias-heart @natashafamdreams @osterfield23 @sweeterlust @adyadalia  @jemilyssecretlover @aleynaishere @jayxxace @smileyromanoff @ashadash0904 @scxpingdrms @amcg0615 @insomniac-delusions @yorkthelocksmith @emilyprentisslittlewhore @wandavixen @gay-ant @iwantwatermelonrn @marvelxdickinsonmarvelxdickinson @marvelwomen-simp @alianovnasworld @whhyyynottt @wandaswigglywoos-ish @lexi-2003-love @smallestavenger @mcu-churrio @fastlikealambo @luflufsstuff @birdie0101 @fabgronsky @insomniac-delusions @theheeheeman @idontknownemore @scxpingdrms @depression-desu @ashadash0904 @demonslayer06 @spookymomfriendtm @smromanoff @raqelacevedo @wandanatfan @simpforflorencepugh1 @s1ut4nat @d14n4ol @alianovnasworld @academiagaymess @natblidaclexa @childofsapph0 @mellxa @messuhp @valiantmugcowboyscissors @luflufsstuff @lorsstar1st @alianovnasworld @wandaswigglywoos-ish @itwas-neverreal @pianogirl2121 @itwas-neverreal @forever-a-diamond-bitch @sayah13 @scxrlett-wid0w @alianovnasworld @froufrousnowman @scarletwidow21 @robnicole @likefirenrain @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ejeiwbskqn @arin-swear-rose @aloaph @jjs-doll @mommysslutsworld @geico-insuranc @ashadash0904 @scxrlett-wid0w @sayah13 @froufrousnowman @anyilherrona @alianovnasworld @whhyyynottt @schuylersthelimit @tomy5girls @caylusromanoff @sadlesbitch @silver-lotus @milaackerman69 @onmykneesforwanda @imtrebleandsharp @alana-debnamcarey @comfy-mee @immathinkerg @simpforwandanat @alianovnasworld @luckypupsmama @sophiecala @shrekisloveshrekislifw @xoxolittledizzy @nattyswidow @mcu-romanoff @njavezan @laurenmaximoff @druggedduck @laylayb1106 @speedytimetravelgalaxy @snowdrop1026 @scarletts-future-wife @darling-dontforgetme @r4nd0mgir1 @heartsforlee @r4nd0mgir1 @heartsforlee @geico-insuranc @copper-boom @emmamaximoff11 

[peachycoreroo]

the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager

summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.

pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader

genre: smut, pwp

word count: 5.4k

warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink

authors note: this is for @weepinglevi​‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist

uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.

him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.

you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.

one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.

it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.

even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.

at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.

“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.

knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.

“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.

alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.

“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.

the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.

“are you waiting for something?”

you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.

“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”

“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”

zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.

“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”

you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.

the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.

five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.

as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.

you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.

no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.

as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.

you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.

the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.

you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.

after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.

when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.

“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”

at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?

you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”

as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.

“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”

“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”

the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.

trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”

“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”

“stop.”

this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.

your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.

your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.

not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.

“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.

you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “

only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.

“did you fuck him?”

zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.

the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.

“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.

the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.

“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”

stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”

the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.

looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.

“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”

just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.

zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.

seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.

“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”

at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.

you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.

it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.

above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.

“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”  

you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.

as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.

at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.

on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.

zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.

you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.

strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.

as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.

“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.

“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”

as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”

zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.

in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.

after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.

“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.

your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.

the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.

when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.

zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.

a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.

“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.

another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.

“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.

smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’

at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.

when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.

“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.

after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.

as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.

“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.

the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.

every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.

at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.

suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.

not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.

“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.

with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.

“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.

“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”

a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.

zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.

[helliontherapscallion]

Shenanigans and Love (Adrenaline Junkie Part 13)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: the Warden, mentions of death, phantom pain syndrome, extreme fluff

Word count: 3,226

The light glow of the redstone lamp illuminated your work space. Currently, it was about two hours before everybody was due to wake up and you were hovering over your journal containing your notes on the Warden. Not much was known about the cave-dwelling creature, but you found a couple of books about it at the library. So far, you found out that it indeed didn’t have eyes; it navigated via a mixture of hearing and a vibration network found in the blocks that had the glowing tentacles on them (you now knew that they were called ‘sculk blocks’). The sculk blocks would pick up on movement or touch, it would send vibration waves through the air, where it would reach the Warden’s own sculk stalks. Without the sculk stalks on the Warden’s head, the Warden was defenseless.

You also read about the anatomy of the creature. Known juvenile specimens ranged from seven to eleven feet tall while adults spanned from twelve to a whopping twenty feet tall. While their average lifespan is unknown due to the parasitic nature of the beast, it is known that they are out of their juvenile stage once they are approximately twenty years old. Thinking back on the one in the cave, it was about twice as tall as you were. That was a juvenile mob and it’s probably grown rapidly since then. The thing that killed you so viciously was a juvenile. You shuddered thinking about what an adult could do.

Juveniles are charted to be more erratic in their decisions while adults were known to be calculating and alert. Known weaknesses were known to be the sculk stalks and the heart. It was going to be incredibly difficult to take it down by yourself, but if worse comes to worse, you’d gladly take the beast down with you. Just in case, you left behind a small will with things you were planning on giving to your family. You were going to leave your workshop and your blueprints to Arthur, your collection of diamonds to Tommy and Wilbur, your stock of netherite and gold to Technoblade, and your wealth and life savings to Philza. You requested that Philza take care of Arthur, you couldn’t ask for a better father figure to have than Philza. Only the best for Arthur. In addition, you had a letter prepared for every member of your family. They were still in their first drafts, but they were coming along fast. In them, you detailed how grateful you were for every single one of them and reminisced on your favorite memory you shared with them. You still had about a week and a half left before you planned on attacking the cave, but you always liked to have extra time to complete things.

Your alarm clock sounded with harsh, lazer like beeps before you quickly silenced it. You didn’t need Arthur or Philza waking up so early. Sighing, you hid your journal and letters under a false bottom drawer and gently closed it. You trudged up the stairs quietly and made your way to the bathroom to shower for the day. When you took off your prosthetic, you could feel the phantom pains shoot up your nonexistent wing. In addition to that, the feathered stump and the areas around it felt stiff. The warmth of the shower did nothing to alleviate the pain.

After your shower, you started to make breakfast. Soon after, the other members of the household filed into the kitchen with differing energies. Arthur, the hyper, knowledge craving kid he was, walked into the kitchen with a bounce in his step and his head held high while Philza followed him with disheveled hair and tired blue eyes. With breakfast situated at the table, everyone started eating. You continuously shifting uncomfortably in your seat didn’t go unnoticed by the two as they eyed you after they woke up a little more.

Finally having enough of your constant movement, Philza finally spoke up, “(y/n)?” You hummed, turning to look at him, “yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

You suddenly become hyper aware of your movements as you force your body to sit still. “Everything’s fine, why you ask?”

“You look a little uncomfortable. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

You sighed, “I’ll tell you later. Arthur did you have anything specific you wanted to learn today?”

His eyes shone with the brightness of all of the stars in the universe as he made quick work to swallow his mouthful of toast, jumping in his seat slightly as he chewed. “Yes! I was wondering if you could teach me how to work with comparators!”

“That takes a lot of time and patience to learn, we probably won’t get it all done by the end of the day today. Is that alright?” He enthusiastically nodded, shoving the last bit of toast in his mouth and running off with a mouthful of unchewed bread.

You could feel a slight worry stab your gut, “Arthur, swallow your food before you run! You could choke!”

You watched as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs, vigorously chewed, swallowed, and resumed his sprint upstairs. You dragged a tired hand through your hair and sipped at your coffee.

“Ender, now I know how you felt with us when we were kids. Kid’s gonna be the death of me.”

Your dad chuckled, sipping at his own coffee. “He’s a lot more tame than you four were. Techno and Wilbur weren’t that bad, you were just a tad bit more chaotic, and well, you remember how Tommy was. You’re just way too worried about him. Kids will be kids, they do crazy things and sometimes you can’t stop them. After the couple months of adopting Tommy, I just let him learn from his mistakes. You gotta let them learn from their mistakes or else they’re never gonna learn. It’s just something all parents have to do if they want their kid to grow as a person.”

“That’s tr- wait, parent? Arthur’s my protégé, not my kid.”

He smirked over his mug and raised an eyebrow at you, “really? Cuz you seem awfully worried about him.”

“Dad. I’m just worried that he’s gonna accidentally kill himself. What, can I not be worried about my protégé?”

“No need to get defensive, just trying to point out the obvious-”

“The obvious? Dad, I'm only twenty. I’m not adopting anyone anytime soon.”

“I adopted Techno when I was twenty three,” he pointed out with raised eyebrows, “besides, I think you’d be a great parent. You’re already a parental figure for Arthur anyways, so nothing would change too much.”

You were silent for a moment as you stared at him blankly. You never viewed yourself as a parental figure type before. Your current lifestyle of never leaving your workshop would never be able to accommodate having someone that depended on you. You could hardly take care of a goldfish (you still had Bubbles’ grave in the backyard at your house in L’manberg), let alone an entire human child. Sure, you babysat Fundy when Niki was too busy to, but that was your nephew and it was only for a day at a time. You planned on taking Arthur with you back to L’manberg (only if he wanted to of course), but you didn’t think that far ahead. He was probably going to have to stay at your house. You weren’t cut out to be a parent, you wouldn’t be good enough for Arthur.

Philza, noticing your slightly panicked zoned out state, quickly reassured you, “you don’t have to make a definitive decision right now, you have time. Just- just consider it. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to come to me. I think I’ve raised enough kids to know what I’m doing,” he chuckled to himself.

Your feathered wing dropped in relief as you gave him your best smile over your coffee mug. “Thanks Dad, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re a lifesaver.” Right after that, a particularly large burst of pain shot along the length of your nonexistent right wing and loitered in the area around the base of your wing. You bit your tongue at the sudden pain as you felt the muscles twitch.

“It’s no problem, I’ll always be here to help ya.” He smiled at you before his eyes snapped to something behind you. His smile dropped as he eyed you concerningly, pointing behind you. “Is- is it supposed to do that?”

You followed his eyes behind you to your prosthetic wing. The metal was twitching in sporadic bursts with varying intensity. You could hear the slight scratching of the metal clashing lightly against the wooden chair. Though it was very inconvenient, you supposed you should be glad that it was moving with the muscle impulses of the muscles you used in flight. Suddenly, you could feel a muscle directly on the base of your wing twitch as the metal moved in tandem with the impulse. The entire wing extended to it’s full length and knocked over the chair next to you. It stood erect for a bit before another twitch caused another spasm that worked its way throughout the length of your metal wing. This time, the wing reared back to your body and almost smacked you in the face. If you didn’t move, your eye would’ve probably been plucked out by one of the metal feathers.

Your flesh wing puffed up slightly in embarrassment as you turned to look back at the blond man in front of you, “technically? I mean, it’s just the sensors picking up on the twitching. I-I’ll get the chair.”

As you stood up, you grunted in pain as another spasm hit you. This time, your wing extended fully perpendicularly to your back causing the muscles in the base of your nubby wing to be pulled unexpectedly. Hissing, your hand shot to rub at the base of your wing. “Fuck that was a bad one.”

You heard the screech of wood on wood as Philza stood up and hurried over to you, dodging a couple of swings from your wing. His hands were hovering indecisively in front of him. “Tell me what I need to do.”

“Take it off. Just- hhh, just take the sensors off. There should be seven of them, all on my back and shoulders.” You bent over with your hands gripping the table with each spasm of your muscles. You could feel the fabric of your shirt being pulled slightly from your body and the warmth of your dad’s hand brushing against your twitching skin as he hurriedly ripped the sensors off your skin.

Once they were all off, the metal wing drooped limply downwards, occasionally being moved slightly when what’s left of the flesh stiffened. “Good, can you unfasten the belts? There’s three of them, they’re a little- ah, a little tricky. After that, carefully pull the metal out through the slit in my shirt. Make sur- sure the sensors don’t rip.”

You sighed when you felt the wing being taken off from you and pulled through the slit in your shirt. Slumping back down into your chair, you reached a hand around to nead the skin on your back. You could feel the twitching slowly decrease in intensity, leaving a sore feeling in its wake. Your wing was placed gently onto the table in front of you, some parts hanging off the side. “Goddamn, I haven’t had an episode that bad since I grinded out making weapons for the War.”

You could hear water running before a glass was placed in front of you and Philza picked up the chair you knocked over and pulled it up next to you. He started to rub circles around the muscles around your wing. You sighed in content, feeling the knots in your back being relieved, “thanks. That feels good.”

“(y/n)?” A small voice said from the doorway of the kitchen. You shot up and bit back a groan when your sore muscles were moved. The young boy was leaning into the doorway with his hands on the sides and his mop of brilliant copper hair hung downwards. He looked worried and slightly scared.

“Hey Arthur, we can start your lesson soon, I just need a sec.”

“Are you okay?” His wavering tone and small voice combined with the tears slowly filling his eyes broke your heart. Eyes softening, you stood up and walked over to him, pulling him into a soft hug. “Of course I’m okay, you don’t need to worry buddy,” you deepened your voice and spoke dramatically, ‘(Y/n) Minecraft the Great, Conqueror of the Unknown’ will never be taken down!”

He gave a watery chuckle against your shirt and burrowed his head deeper into your shoulder, gripping you tighter. You reached up to stroke his hair and wrapped your left wing around him loosely, shielding him from the world with a protective feathery barrier. You could hear Philza picking up dishes from the table and quietly start to do the dishes. Despite the occasional twitch in your back and the phantom pain shooting down your wing, you directed all of your attention to Arthur. Eventually, he pulled away and wiped at his blotchy face. “Are you still up for the lesson?”

Just as Arthur opened his mouth, Philza interrupted him from behind you, “you’re not doing anything until you feel better (y/n).”

“Dad, honestly it isn’t that-”

“Don’t say it honestly isn’t that bad, we both know that’s not true. You’re on bedrest for today.”

You grumbled to yourself as you stood up and handed your glass of water to Arthur, who sipped at the contents giving you a small “thank you.” Nodding, you were escorted out of the kitchen by Philza and ushered to the couch. Once you were laying down on your stomach, he handed you a book and placed a hot water bottle on your back. Before you could stop it, a pleased hum left your lips as your body relaxed on the couch. “You’re staying here. I better not find you anywhere else when Arthur and I come home.”

You lifted your head up and stared at him with an eyebrow raised, “where’re you taking him?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes lit up slightly before he put on his stern facade once more. “Just to the village. I need to pick up a few things.”

“And you need him why…?”

“Well, I can’t go without someone helping me! I’m an old man after all.” He started to nudge Arthur towards the door and slipped his shoes on.

“You’re only thirty six, but whatever. Arthur, be good for my dad.”

“Alright (y/n), feel better soon!” He gave you a bright smile before he was pulled out of the house by Philza.

You tried to read, but the nagging worry for Arthur in the back of your mind never allowed for you to be immersed in your book. You knew Philza would never let anything happen to him, but you couldn’t help but worry whenever Arthur wasn’t in your line of sight. You supposed that it was a part of being an avian hybrid; you needed to constantly know if the child was alright. You tried to force yourself to go to sleep, but the pain prevented you from doing so, so you ended up mindlessly watching the seconds tick by on the clock. Before you knew it, your eyes closed and you were put in a light slumber.

You were awoken by the front door opening and laughter filling the house. You cracked open your crusty eyes and groaned as you sat up. You looked at the two with bleary eyes. Arthur was laughing at something Philza said as the blond looked over at you. “Hey hun, you feelin better?”

“Yeah a bit. What’d you get at the village?”

“Just some things for dinner. Arthur, wanna help me cook?”

Arthur, being the walking ball of sunshine that he was, nodded vigorously and started to drag the older man to the kitchen. Furrowing your brow, you called out to them, “do you want me to help?”

“No, stay there. Don’t come in!” Arthur’s excited voice shouted back to you, making you raise a brow at his words. You couldn’t lie, you felt nervous at his words. Just what did he have in store for you? Occasionally, you could hear yelps and bangs, which made you want to go into the kitchen even more. But you held off, trusting Philza.

About an hour and a half passed before you were summoned to the kitchen by an overly excited Arthur. Once in the kitchen, you were in slight awe. Spread out on the table was your favorite meal with the addition of fresh cookies left to cool on the stovetop. “All this for me?”

They smiled at you as Arthur ushered you to your spot at the table. “I… don’t know what to say. I- thank you guys.”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Arthur’s idea. I just helped.” Philza looked over at the blushing boy with a smile.

You reached over to ruffle his hair, “well, thank you Arthur. You know me too well, these are all my favorites!”

The boy bashfully smiled at you, “there’s something else too, but that’s for after dinner.”

You put a hand against your heart, touched, “Two surprises in one day? Ender, you’re spoiling me!” Arthur laughed at you.

Dinner went by fast with light-hearted laughter bouncing throughout the kitchen. The dinner and cookies tasted amazing, your taste buds felt like they were in heaven. After dinner, Arthur drug you to your room with an excited Philza following you two. On your bed sat your wing, but it had colorful things attached to the surface. Furrowing your brow, you looked closer to find various magnets sticking to the iron surface.

They ranged from the nonbinary flag to small mobs to little puns (your favorite ones were ‘olive you’ and ‘bird puns fly right over my head’). You could feel your smile widening at every magnet you saw, your wing fluttering in happiness. One of the magnets made you stop completely though as you stared at it with wide eyes. It was simple, but oh did it make your heart sing in joy and your eyes fill with tears. On the magnet, in big, bold letters were the words ‘world’s best parent’.

“Arthur…” You looked at him through blurred vision. He looked nervous, looking anywhere but at you and shifting on the balls of his feet. You lunged forward and pulled him into a tight hug and wrapped your wing around him, making sure he was as close to you as possible.

Philza watched the exchange with a soft smile before he decided to let you two have some privacy. His heart was full of happiness as he walked downstairs to clean up the kitchen with a bounce in his step and his wings fluttering uncontrollably. He was ecstatic to officially welcome Arthur to his family. Sure, he had a small hand in leading Arthur over to the ‘world’s best parent’ magnet, but it was Arthur that picked out the magnet for you. He knew you were going to make a fantastic parent.

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam  @bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @laura--444  @wing-non  @lovely-echoo  @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual  @mysteryartisticwriter  @momo-has-a-gun  @misfortunatem00n  @w-0-r-n-n  @v-kouya  @kusuinko  @cheybaee  @dulcedippers  @jaciahbabes

[krreader]

earned it.

pairing: jung hoseok x idol!reader fandom: bts warnings: sex ; oral sex ; daddy!kink ; spanking ; dirty talk ; language  genre: smut word count: 1.6k+

summary: what was hoseok supposed to do when you looked like a snack on that red carpet?

a/n: coming back with a piece of pure smut, that’s me lol. enjoy it hun!

When Hoseok had found out that your group had been invited to one of the American award shows that he and the boys were attending as well, he had been over the mood.

Naturally, nobody outside of your companies knew you two were dating, but it was wildly known that your groups were friends, so seeing you both out in public together wouldn't cause a scandal. He might have to drag others along so that it wouldn't look suspicious, but he could still take you out on dates in LA like he had always wanted to.

And at first that was going fine. When you had time, you would spend it together, even managed to have a date on your own twice.

But then the day of the award show came and Hoseok was once again reminded of how shitty it was that he couldn't let the world know that you were his... at least not in public.

“They look amazing,” Jimin breathed out as he watched your group take photos on the red carpet.

If he had to guess what concept your stylists were going for, it'd simply be: goddess. All of you. You looked stunning and everyone was going crazy over you.

The boys, the paparazzi, the fans, the other artists.

You owned this red carpet and you knew it.

If this was his dream scenario, your boyfriend would have walked over, would have wrapped an arm around you – proudly so – and would smirk from ear to ear. Let the world know that this, you, were a thing.

Not an option, unfortunately.

And so when the paparazzi called BTS to take photos with your group, he managed to squeeze himself in between you and your other member, pulling you a little closer than necessary.

“Stop being obvious,” you said through gritted teeth, that red carpet smile still on your face.

“You leave me no choice,” is what he replied.

From there on, it was only becoming worse and worse.

Other American artists, especially the men, were all over you, hugging you, kissing your cheek, taking pictures with you. During your performance, you were a lot sexier than on the stages in Korea and he was beginning to become antsy, already thinking about all the things he would do to you when you got back to the hotel.

It was simply a matter of him being very... possessive.

Suddenly he was glad that they all decided not to go to the after party and rather do a VLIVE.

And so in the elevator, about three hours later when the award show was already over, he pulled you towards him, your back against his chest, completely relaxed since you were in the company of your members and his only.

“Do you guys want to make separate VLIVE's?”

“Yeah, would probably be better,” Namjoon nodded at your leader, “But we should all eat first. Properly.”

“Sounds good. You'll do yours first, then we do ours?”

“Perfect.”

But when you arrived at the floor and everyone went to their separate rooms, Hoseok wrapped his hand around your wrist, “You're going nowhere.”

“Huh?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but Hoseok's eyes were on his members, waiting until one after the other disappeared into their rooms. Only once they were all out of sight did he walk out of the elevator, pulling you with him.

“You know, baby girl, I hate it that these men all look at you and think they have a chance with you because you're single, when in reality, you call me daddy every night,” he said in a low voice, pushing open the door to his hotel room and pulling you inside, instantly pinning you against the nearest wall and shoving the door closed with his foot.

“You want to do this now?!” you let out a laugh when he already began to kiss your neck, “Your members are all waiting on you to start the broadcast.”

“You heard it yourself... it's dinner time first, love,” he grinned and then kissed you softly, “And I'm about to dig in.”

You inhaled in a sharp breath of air when he got down on his knees and pulled your string with him. From the way he was grinning to himself, you assumed that he was very happy about your dress in that moment, because he could easily push aside the fabric hanging in the front and begin to eat you out without a second thought.

It was really not what you had expected, your back instantly arching and your fingers pulling on his hair.

Oh, how glad you were that he was this possessive right now. Hoseok was always good when he gave you oral, but he made you feel that tiny bit better today, wanting you to know that he was this good.

And shit... you really did feel it when he sucked on your clit, gently bit down on it and moaned against it, so that the vibration shook you to the core.

He knew he was good, he knew he was pushing you over the edge in mere seconds, because at this point, he knew what you loved.

But you wouldn't get off this easily today.

“No,” you said shakily as he got up from the floor, so close to orgasming within a minute, “Don't stop, please...”

“That's right, baby girl. Keep on begging tonight,” he grabbed you by your waist and turned you around, guiding you towards the bed and then pushing you onto it, but instantly pulling your butt back up so that it was on full display in front of him.

He leaned down and let his tongue glide through your folds one more time, letting out a big sigh when he stood up straight again.

“I wonder if these people know just how wet I get you.”

“Please, Hoseok.”

“Please, what, princess?” you heard him unbuckle his belt, “I need to hear it... what do you want me to do?”

“Anything.. anything, really,” he could eat you out, he could fuck you from behind, you just needed to find your release when it was still so close.

But again, he wouldn't make this easy tonight.

“Anything, huh?” his hand came down hard on your ass, you letting out a yelp, “Like marking you as mine?”

“Yeah.. spank me,” you bit down on your lip.

“Spank me...-” his hand was rubbing over the spot, waiting for you to finish that sentence.

“...daddy,” when you pushed your ass back to give him another incentive of what you really wanted, your boyfriend let out a dark chuckle.

“Cute,” he patted your ass check and a moment later, you could feel his tip pushing against your entrance, coating it with your wetness, “I kinda feel bad for you now. You really want me, huh?”

You knew that, even though this was also about possessiveness and control, it was Hoseok asking for confirmation that you still wanted him and only him. And if it weren't for you being so fucking horny in that moment, you would have also replied with 'Cute'. Instead, you went for: “I want you so badly, daddy.”

Almost the same.

It was what Hoseok wanted to hear, though.

He pushed inside you with ease, both of you letting out a loud moan, so loud that Hoseok knew one of the members from next door would hear.

Let them, he thought.

He stayed still for a moment, enjoying the feeling of warmth around his hard dick, before he gathered your hair and pulled your head back a little.

“How hard do you want me to go, baby?”

“Hard.”

Well, technically, you wanted this feeling to last forever, but you knew it wouldn't. And so you chose the alternative that made you find your release quickly.

And well, after two years of dating and a sex life that you would call a successful journey, Hoseok could blindly find your G-Spot within seconds.

And this time was no different.

He only had to push into you a few times before you let out the first scream that made him laugh.

“That's right, beautiful... let the entire hotel know that I'm the one that's fucking you.”

You tried to hide it, bit down on your lip and wanted to grab a pillow to scream into it, but Hoseok quickly got a hold of your arms and pulled them back, holding both your wrists behind your back, while the other came down hard on your ass cheek, again and again.

From the speed he was fucking you, you knew that he couldn't last long either, he was as ready to find release as you were.

There was no change in angle, no creativity. It was only sex, good, hard and fast.

And that was perfect for the both of you today.

Hoseok would have continued on with the praising, with the dirty talk and everything in between, but his thrusts were becoming sloppy, his hand let go of your wrists and he held your waist to keep his balance.

You were glad for it, because when you finally came, you screamed so loud that you were sure it would have woken the entire floor. Thankfully, though, you were able to grab a pillow just before that and scream into it.

Hoseok managed to conceal his moans, but they were loud enough – maybe even louder than necessary – for his members next door to hear.

And when he walked into Namjoon's room after a hot shower, he earned angry looks from both Yoongi and Jimin, so that answered who heard you two.

He just grinned from ear to ear and looked completely satisfied... you both earned that after a succesful award show.

[forever-rogue]

Honeyed Whiskey

A/N: This was not called for at all, but I was so inspired by THIS dress from yesterday. It’s just a little soft, gentle fluff. Enjoy! xx

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: references to sex, but nothing graphic

Pedro Character Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time he's lulled from sleep, far later than he normally would have preferred, the first thing he notices is the golden sunlight streaming in through sheer curtains and open windows. Instantaneously, a smile is tugging on his features and he shifts onto his back, stretching limbs made stiff by sleep. He's content and comfortable, already enjoying his days off, knowing they'd be spent with you. 

As soon as the thought of you crosses his mind, honeyed brown eyes slowly open again and he's blinking away the bleariness while reaching over to your side of the bed. But you're gone already, he notes with a light huff, finding nothing but cool emptiness where you normally laid.

Before he can get too lost in his own thoughts, he hears you. Its faint - soft and barely audible over the steady stream of the shower, but it's there. Crystal clear and beautiful, at least to his ears, he hears you singing softly under your breath along to whatever you had playing on the speakers. Rubbing away the remaining sleep from his eyes, he pulls back the soft, warm blankets and slides out from underneath. 

He's still naked from the evening before, but he doesn't even bother to dress or reach for even a stitch of clothing. He already knows you'll just strip off in seconds anyway. A beaming grin crosses his features at that; you certainly knew what you wanted and when you wanted it.

Almost as if you could sense him, you stopped singing for a moment and he hears the tell-tale rustle of the shower curtain, "Jack? Honey, is that you?"

"Hi Sugar," he poked his head and found you staring back with excited eyes and a head full of shampoo lather, "you're up early...need a hand?"

"Its the Farmers Market today," you reminded him with a crook of your finger as he stepped into the warm bathroom, "I don't want to miss it, besides you're taking me to brunch and everything!"

"And just who decided this?" his tone was teasing as he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed. You grinned up at him, pressing a kiss to his plush lips and batting your lashes innocently. He huffed in jest before reaching up and tenderly cupping your face, "I suppose I did, huh?"

"I'm sure that's what you were saying last night," you couldn't help but beam at him, "when I was on top - somewhere in between telling me how good I was and how much you love me."

"Well now, I definitely can't say no to you, Sugar," his hands slowly went from the side of your face and into your scalp as delicately massaged it to help wash the shampoo out.

"Jack, you don't have to wash my hair," you insisted but you definitely wouldn't have minded if he did. Showering with Jack was always an experience; something so intimate and sacred, especially when you took the time to wash and explore each other's bodies. You took the opportunity to shower together whenever you could, especially on lazy weekend days.

"I know I don't have to, baby," he insisted softly as he started to tender wash the lather, "but I want to. Let me take care of you, Sugar. You always take such good care of me, its my turn to love you."

"Well, who am I to turn down an offer like that?" a contented sigh left your lips as you keened into his gentle touch, "I am no fool. I love you, Jack."

"And I love you, honey."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You spent a long time in the shower, and by the time the two of you got you were both pruned. Jack's towel was slung low on his hips as he went to his side of the closet to grab some clothes for the day.

A sly little smile found its way onto your face as you dashed down the stairs and to the laundry room. You'd gone shopping yesterday and found something you'd planned on wearing today. As soon as you had seen it, you knew you had to have it, and you were positive that Jack would love it too.

"What happened?" Jack called down the stairs as you quickly slipped on your undergarments and the item of clothing.

"Nothing!" you promised as you bounded back up stairs to surprise him. Jack was standing in front of the full length mirror, buttoning up his shirt. The simple sight was still enough to take your breath away as you watched him for a few moments. His dark mop of hair was still damp and unruly, and you couldn't wait to run your hands through it.

You leaned against the door frame and cleared your throat in order to garner his attention. Jack slowly turned around, and when he was fully facing you, his jaw almost dropped. He slowly walked over to you, that look of adoration and devotion in his eyes that you were so fond of.

"You look beautiful, Sugar," he drawled as you slowly twirled to give him a look good at the beautiful yellow sundress you were wearing. It was breathtaking, and you had known from the moment you spied it that it was the one. Stopping just at your knees it was a beautiful, golden yellow with flowers all over it, with simple thin straps. The bodice hugged you just right and the little flare was perfect. You had a feeling Jack would like it too, "what a gorgeous dress on the most gorgeous woman in the world."

"Now you're just flattering me," you laughed lightly and put a hand on his broad, pushing him back ever so lightly, "do you like though? Really? I-I saw it and fell in love and couldn't help myself."

"Its not flattery if it's true," he insisted as he grabbed your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "I love it - not nearly as much as you, of course, but it's beautiful. And you make it even more so."

"You really do know just what to say, don't you, my love?" you couldn't help but steal a quick kiss as you flounced past him to finish getting ready, "still up for brunch?"

"And then the farmer's market," he reminded you with a soft smile, "I couldn't think of a better way to spend my day."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Brunch was a slow, fun affair as the two of you ate and drank your way through probably too much food. You'd insisted that Jack could pick the place since you were technically forcing him to brunch. He'd agreed, but that quickly turned into him driving to your favorite spot regardless. A silly old fool you had lovingly deemed him.

By the time you'd reached the farmer's market, it was warm and everything was bathed in brilliant sunlight. Jack had quickly reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, as you walked around and looked at all the various little stalls. It was busy and bustling, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood today; funny what the first nice day in the spring could do.

Jack was the type of man that loved to show you off, but there was also a part of him that was fiercely protective, never possessive, over you. It comes from years as an agent; a tried and practiced thing. 

Whenever someone would stop the two of you, he'd always make sure you were front and center, getting all the attention you deserved. Today, in your new yellow sundress, that was no exception. There was something about today, how radiant and happy you looked, how kind and gentle you were, that set something off in him. Suddenly, as he watched you pick out some fresh oranges and apples from one of the stalls, he knew he had the answer to the question that had been on his mind. 

“Honey?” you turned back to him, finding him watching you with a dopey little grin on his face. You held out your hand to him, and Jack wasted no time in coming over and taking, effortlessly entwining your fingers, “what’s wrong, Jack?”

“Nothing’s wrong at all, Sugar,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before taking the large tote filled with fresh fruits from you, ever the gentleman. You used to try and fight him on little things like that, insisting that you were more than capable of doing things on your own, but it was always useless. Eventually you learned not to argue with your cowboy. 

“You’re just awfully quiet today is all,” you squeezed his hand in a sign of reassurance to let him know that everything was okay, “you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course,” he stopped suddenly so he was facing you, a half smile on his handsome features. After studying your features in his aviators for a moment, you gently pushed them to the top of his head before leaving in to give him a gentle, saccharine kiss. When you pulled back, you found a light tinge of pink creeping into his cheeks, “whatever was that for?”

‘Just because,” you shrugged lightly before taking his hand again and tugging on it for him to follow, “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too,” he shook his head at your playfulness but both knew the words were true. You’d both been jaded in different ways throughout your lives, but this was the one thing you were sure about. You really did love him more than anything - and he you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You clutched onto your drink, or rather what was left of the smooth, honeyed whiskey, before turning to Jack and setting the glass down. You found Jack staring into the roaring fire across from you, his expression suggesting that a lot was going through his mind. 

You were across the small fire pit from him, the one he had lovingly built in the background for cool nights just like this and let out a small sigh. His drink wasn’t even touched and he’d hardly said more than a word or two the whole evening, leaving you to do most of the talking yourself.

“Alright, Jack, this is enough,” you stood up and flounced over to him, and sat down next to him, “what’s going on, Jack? Ever since this afternoon at the market, you’ve gone practically silent. It’s not like you, honey. I-is it something I did? Are you upset with me?”

“No, no, no it’s nothing like that at all, sugar,” he promised as he turned to you, a worried expression on his own face, “I am far from upset, or anything else for that matter. I’ve just had a lot on my mind today - lately.”

“What’s going on? I can help…” you watched with worried eyes as he stood up and moved in front of you, a thoughtful expression on his face as his hands dove into his pockets, “Jack?”

“We’ve been together for a long time now,” he started as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “honestly, it seems like there wasn’t any time in which I didn’t know you. It feels like we’ve always been together…”

“Oh my God,” you looked at him with pouted lips and a worried expression in your eyes, “you’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”

“What on earth...how...no, Sugar, I am absolutely not breaking up with you or anything of the sort,” he quickly insisted and you relaxed at his reassurance. Then why was he so...off today?

“Then what’s…”

“I love you more than anything,” he reminded you, and your heart fluttered in your chest as you nodded slowly, “and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you. I don’t know a lot, but that is one thing I do know.”

“I want that too,” the corners of your mouth turned up into that brilliant smile that still made Jack weak in the knees. Radiant and golden as ever as nervous butterflies fluttered about his stomach; he was sure you would be able to hear the nervous beating of his heart, “you’re my one, Jack.”

“And you are mine, Sugar,” he slowly kneeled, almost eye level with you as he got down on one knee and reached back into his pocket. Suddenly you knew - all the quiet moments, the little secret he seemed to be hiding, all the extra declarations of love, it all made sense now. Your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry then and there. He reached for your left hand and gently held it in his, “I have never been more sure of anyone or anything, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to build and grow our family together, all of it - I want it with you.”

“Oh honey…” you looked into those soft brown eyes and found that they were glossy with tears as well, “I...love you so much. I want everything with you too. Only you.”

“Well then I just have one very important question to ask you,” he slipped his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He made quick work of displaying the beautiful ring inside. You looked between the ring and him, hardly able to believe this was happening, “Sugar, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and allowing me to be your husband?”

“Yes - yes,” you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your finger. He studied your face for a moment before delicately wiping away your tears, after which you put your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss, “of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes.”

“And just like that, you continue to make me the happiest man in the world,” he scooped you up in his arms and spun you around as he held onto you tightly, “I love you so much, Sugar.”

“I love you too, Jack,” you whispered against his lips, “tell me what finally made you ask? Was it the dress? I always knew yellow was your favorite!”

“Of course not, darlin’,” he laughed lightly, “it was all you - the dress was just an added bonus. How lucky I must be to have the privilege of getting to gaze upon such beauty everyday.”

“And what about me?” you asked in response, “I must be pretty lucky as well. I get you all to myself, the best man, and soon I get to call you my husband.”

“I suppose that makes us a pair of lucky fools,” he mused as you beamed at him, “what do you say we do inside and grab some champagne to celebrate? Just the two of us for now, before we tell the world.”

“I love the sound of that,” you agreed, “this is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist:  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula   @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy   @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @javihoney  @aeryntheofficial  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial  @asgardianvamp21  @keithseabrook27  @karmezii  @dearspacepirates  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou  @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43 @intu-witch-tion @wondergal2001 @gingerbreadandpaper @willowtheewisp @milkxxkookies @smollpinkgirl @zukoyonce  @boomtownboy @velia27 @discowitchyy @kiss-evans @theorganasolo  @mishasminion360 @its–fandom–darling​ @emmy626 @nyasiaaaaa​ ​

[ialwaysgobacktoit]

Time to rest your weary head: The End!

FIRST AND FOREMOST; I KNOW it took me a DAMN LONG TIME to update this, but lemme explain: This was my first fanfiction ever written in english, my first Gwynriel long-fic and the first fanfic I ever published and I didn't want to finish it (although I knew it must come to an end)

I am so grateful for all the love, likes, kudos on AO3, comments and reblogs I've been getting since I first started posting it. You have NO IDEA how much it meant to me; I've always found myself a little insecure to post my own fiction work, but this one have payed off and it's all thanks to you guys!!!!

To @katiebellf the one who lovingly suggested WRITE A FANFICTION OUT OF THIS bday headcanon and i sure as hell did!!! To @madie2200 and @starbornsinger for being so supportive and always making sure I'd get feedback, and to @thecrispypotatochip for your constant reblogs with your opinions + to every kind soul out here in this crazy virtual space that made sure to make me feel loved! (i see you all, and i love you)

ANYWAY, that's it guys! <3 This chapter of my life is finally over (ik i'm being HELLA DRAMATIC but put up with me!!!!! i love gwynriel!!!!) and I can't wait for you to see what's to come :) (btw i know i'm technically LATE since here in my brazilian timezone it's 1AM but think on the bright side... I hope y'all have a great dinner/breakfast/lunch surprise :)

Chapter List here and my personal Gwynriel hymn that inspired the title of this fic RIGHT HERE

PART 15: FINAL.

Azriel knew what he had to do.

As he beheld the circle of people in front of him all gathered around the dining table, his family, he felt a sense of calmness and quietude he hadn’t for a long, long time. His eyes quickly landed on Gwyn, who was motioning for him to sit by her side.

It was dinner night at the River House, and he had it all planned out. His shadows bounced around his shoulders as he took the seat next to his mate. As she engaged in a conversation with Emerie and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian leaned on each other, Rhys played with Nyx while Mor and Amren discussed about something he couldn’t bring himself to care about, he felt at ease. Peaceful.

Gwyn held his hand under the table, and he let his shadows hung around her freely. It was almost as they belonged to her, and not him. They had started doing it a lot more often, so the Inner Circle was supposed to be more used to it by now. Still, Azriel ignored Amren’s inquisitive eyebrow and turned his gaze to his mate; those teal eyes were eyeing him, and she squeezed his hand, giving him an almost imperceptible nod; a go-ahead sign.

Just like they had previously talked.

“There’s something you should know” Azriel started, immediately earning the attention of almost everyone at the table, since it wasn’t every day he opened up like that. Only Gwyn kept staring at her lap, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Is everything ok?” Nesta was the one who asked.

“We’re mates.” She blurted out, startling him – and everyone around, for that matter. He looked at her, amused, and then at the confusion that reigned across the table. In a second, a squealing Nesta and Emerie lunched forward and embraced his mate in a tight and equally loud hug, while Cassian spitted his drink, Mor clapped and Amren muttered a “tell me something new”, quietly smiling and raising her glass at Azriel anyway.

Only Rhys and Feyre stood in silence at their spots at the table, knowing smiles mirrored on their faces quickly noticed by Nesta, still with her arms around Gwyn.

“Why are you two so quiet?” Her eyes missed nothing, raising her chin at her sister and her mate. Rhys merely took a sip from his drink.

“They already knew.” Azriel found himself saying, and Nesta’s stare darted to him, and then to Gwyn, who was still flushed from all the fuss.

“And you knew they knew?” She furrowed her brows; he couldn’t identify if her tone was menacing or curious, but Gwyn wasn’t the one to feel intimidated by it, given the way she chuckled in response.

“It was all me.” Rhys raised his hands. “It was an accident; I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I need to train more on my mental shields, apparently.” It was all the priestess admitted, but kindly smiled at Rhysand and Feyre from across the table. “The High Lo- Rhysand, I mean- kept it safe for me. He found out earlier than Azriel did.”

“You were the one to realize first?” Nesta sat again at her spot besides Cassian, and turned to her friend surprised. Gwyn smiled smugly.

“By a short amount of time” Azriel couldn’t help but grunt out, unconsciously falling into their usual banter.

Her warm eyes landed on him, and she winked, still with that Cauldron-damned smile on, causing shivers all over him.

“Still” She shrugged irreverently and smirked playfully. “I knew it before you. Quite the Spymaster, huh?”

If everyone else at the table stilled slightly at her words, all but Cassian, who bellowed in laughter, Azriel couldn’t notice. Not when his mate’s stare was unfaltering, with that challenging look in her eyes she knew he loved. He immediately found himself joining his brother, again not caring if it was the first in a damn long time his family even heard him laugh like that.

Some time passed between casual conversation and sips of wine. In that time, Azriel was secretly arranging his next words in his mind. Just like Gwyn and he had previously discussed, the news went well; as deep down, he knew it would. His family had understood and cherished them both, and Azriel reveled in the peace it brought him, quietly admiring those people around him.

When his eyes landed at Gwyn, though, deeply immersed in conversation with Rhysand, he took in a deep breath, determined. There was still one more thing he had to do, one more thing she wasn’t yet aware. Something he knew, in his heart, was the right thing to do. Was the best thing he could do.

“Rhys” He called, and Gwyn immediately turned her head to him, eyes shining with pure curiosity. “There’s one more thing.”

He leaned in closer to his brother, resting his arm behind Gwyn’s chair. Rhysand’s expression was equally intrigued, but his voice was calm and collected when he answered: “Shoot, brother.”

“I need a break.”

“Oh?” Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up with surprise.

“Oh?” Gwyn echoed quietly.

Her burning gaze made him tear his eyes from Rhysand and stare back at her; something was glimmering in her teal ocean eyes. He couldn’t discern what it was. The rest of his family was still talking to each other, though the conversation had dimmed a bit.

“I have well trained spies all over the country; I could spend the rest of this week getting them ready to take my place for a little while. I’d be back in two weeks, if you’d let me.” Azriel continued.

Rhysand smiled broadly and promptly retorted: “What about two months?”

Gwyn gasped beside him. Something stirred within Azriel’s chest. Two whole months, with Prythian in the verge of a possible war, didn’t seem wise at all, and he was well aware of the fact.

But Cauldron-damn him, he wanted that. Needed that.

Suddenly, a vision of a shining blue lake under the afternoon sun came into his field of view. In his fingers, loose strands of a long copper hair, like burning fire under the sunlight. The only thing he could hear was the chirps of birds and the soft breathing of the young priestess who rested against his chest. For whatever reason, he could see it.

He felt his brother’s claws against his mental shield, bringing him back from his reverie:

You deserve it, brother. You two deserve this and more.

He had to blink away the tears that he felt coming up, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Then he looked at Gwyn, that smiling, powerful force of nature sitting next to him. He finally understood what that was in her eyes; the same thing Rhysand showed in his.

Pride.

And he knew his answer.

EPILOGUE

A few years later

Azriel woke up to soft humming. He squinted against the morning light, and frowned when he found the other side of the bed empty. His fae senses discerned the familiar voice coming from the bathroom, a voice he always seemed drawn to.

He lazily got up and followed the sweet melody that woke him up and lived in his dreams; leaning against the door frame, he watched as Gwyn slowly brushed her damp hair, the smell of lavender filling up the air:

"Hey, you"

Gwyn turned around, and smiled softly at him. That morning sight still made his heart flutter, even if it's been years now since they shared rooms in the House of Wind.

"Good morning, love" She neared him and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "What are you doing up? Thought you weren't tutoring today."

"I'm not" He hummed, embracing her. "But the bed was getting cold."

His arms felt perfect around her back as she placed her hands behind his neck.

"Ha-ha" She pouted, rolling her eyes at his little drama "My Ilyrian boy is missing me already? It's been less than fifteen minutes"

"What can I do? I love my mate and don't want her to leave me just yet."

She looked thoughtful, a playful smile on her lips: "Well, I suppose I still got time before I hit the library..."

In a second, Azriel was picking her up in his arms and carefully laying her on their bed as she laughed, and he admired just how flushed she got after a hot shower. Gods, he could never get tired of that view. He started peppering her face with kisses, trailing down her neck and smirking against her skin as he heard her sigh and claw her hands on his hair.

"Az..." She murmured after a few seconds.

There's something.

The fact that his shadows had to alert him that made his head shot up and stare into those deep eyes in front of him. She was still smiling, but faintly, and gently stroked his hair as if to soothe him.

He straightened up, leaning on an elbow to face her.

"What?"

"I think we should discuss something."

She seemed nervous, but her tone left nothing to the imagination. Whatever something that was, Gwyneth Berdara was already set on it.

He nodded, brows furrowed.

"You know I love you, and I'm so happy the way things are going. But lately, with you training Ren to one day replace you as Spymaster and me opening up the public library in Velaris, well..."

He swallowed, feeling his heartbeat fasten. But she only smiled further:

"I feel like we should do it now. Accept the bond."

Seconds passed and Azriel didn't know what to say, as he scanned her face for any kind of discomfort or insecurity. There was none. A jest, maybe? Could it be...

"I'm not joking, Shadowsinger. In case you're wondering."

She interrupted his thoughts, and brushed her hands against his hair once more, pulling him closer to her.

"Gwyn, you..." He was speechless, something in his chest glowing brighter and brighter he felt it could burst out of him any minute now.

"I want this, Azriel. And have been wanting it for a long, long time." She breathed in "Do you still..."

"Yes. Yes." He answered in a breathless laugh; the reality of it hitting him. They were doing it. Mates. Forever.

"Mating ceremony and all?" She joined him in laughter now, they both beaming. Azriel felt his cheeks hurt.

"Whatever you say, Gwyn. I'd love whatever you wish. I just want to be with you for the rest of my life." The words came rushing out, but he didn't care. Not when his mate closed the space between them and kissed him intently.

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

Gwyn didn't go to the library that day, after all. They prefer focusing on other more... Urgent matters after their talk.

As they lay in bed together a few hours later, Azriel felt utter peace. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of Gwyn's body tightly embraced in him, her hair soft against his chin, her breathing even on his chest.

He suddenly remembered this ancient tune his mother used to sing to him when he was no more than a kid. It was a sweet, tender lullaby about peace and tranquility. The one song he always remembered to sing against the darkness. One that seemed to originate from every cell in his body, intrinsic to who he was.

Lately, that song's been bringing him comfort and solace for one more reason. And he was singing it to her now.

And if Gwyn didn't move, nor shift her position, he knew exactly why. Moments in which he sang were rare, since he much preferred to hear his mate's powerful voice. And that song, that one tune meant so much to him, he knew she could sense it. He could feel her smile against his chest.

His shadows expanded and retracted around them both, cocooning them in darkness and playing around the room; temporarily set free.

He felt himself slowly giving in to a peaceful slumber as he went on:

And you would say

"Time to rest your weary head

Take your wings and go to bed

I know you want to show it all, my darling"

And I'd say

"Set me down and rock me, rock me to sleep"

All he sensed before sleep took over him was one, single kiss against his cheek, and a soft whisper against his ear.

He loved her too.

[inkbyajm]

Sense of Enervation

pairing: C.H. x reader

category: fluff

words: 1.2k+

notes: this was requested by a lovely anon who’s been overworking lately. if you’re reading this, please take at least a teeny bit of time off to take care of yourself and your nerves :( in the meantime, i hope this brings a bit of relief into your life

Wake up, work, eat something, sleep. Wake up, work again, eat a little, work more. Your routine had been pretty much the same for what felt like ions. Christ, you don’t even remember the last time your mind was occupied by anything other than work and responsibilities.

Your schedule had changed recently, demanding twice as much hard work, taking up twice as much time and requiring twice as much energy. Except, where were you supposed to get energy from if you never slept? Well, according to scientists, the length of a normal sleep cycle is only about 1.5 hours. So, technically, you should get away with sleeping for only two hours every night, right? You had read about how some people did have that kind of lifestyle, the amount of time they saved was the most appealing aspect of it.

In the beginning, like with all beginnings, it was quite difficult and demanded a lot of willpower, you were convinced that your body simply wasn’t built that way. But with time, you found it easier to wake up without wanting to lie in bed a little longer, the grogginess barely there. Sure, you helped your body replenish its rapidly burning energy supply with endless cups of coffee, a few cans of energy drinks and a sprinkle of cold showers, but it was a system that worked. You had to keep it up until things settled down.

Unfortunately, this meant you had barely any time for Corpse. Bless his soul for he never complained once or whined about how you never spent time with him. Good thing was, you lived on the same street, which permitted him to drop by your place whenever he wanted to. Had he known of your borderline self-destructing schedule? Not exactly, but you didn’t feel like telling him was necessary, it would only worry him more.

━

It was a cloudy Thursday morning. You had slept a little longer than usual, but you figured there was no reason to get worked up over that, you could get back on track later. Just like on any other day, you got up to start your morning routine, quickly ate some breakfast, and swiftly went on to start on your duties. Oddly enough, you weren’t really feeling all that well that morning. There was a hint of drowsiness and your mind seemed foggier than usual. Assuming it was simply from the extra hour you had managed to sleep, you thought nothing more of it and brushed it aside.

Towards the end of the day, or when the sun had already set and the time had come for normal folks to eat dinner, you felt a bit hungry yourself and tiredly dragged your feet to the kitchen. Your neck and shoulders ached more than ever, not only due to poor posture, but because of stress also. Sighing, you walked into the room only to find your partner there, in front of an open cupboard.

“Jesus, Corpse,” you exhaled, a hand over your heart, “I just about had a heart attack. When did you get here?”

He lightly chuckled with a confused look on his face. “I came in like two minutes ago? I greeted you, too.”

“Oh. Right, sorry. My mind is all over the place today.” With a frown, he walked over to you and pulled you in by the waist.

“Are you alright? You don’t look too well.” he said, gingerly cupping your face, “did you get any sleep last night?”

“I did, actually. I even got more sleep than usual. I’ll be fine, though. I guess it’s just one of those days.” you reassured him with a soft smile and pecked his cheek. He didn’t push any further.

Getting a mug from the cupboard, you placed it on the counter in front of you and stopped. What was it that you were doing? Weren’t you here for something else?

“(Y/N)?” you heard Corpse call out and turned to look at him with raised brows, “you were just kind of...staring at the cup. Are you trying to summon something or...?”

Food. That’s what you wanted. You supposed you’d get coffee too while you were at it. You scanned the room, looking through the shelves of the pantry. “Where did I put the coffee?” Stopping you in your actions, Corpse simply turned you back around and there you saw it, sitting right against the wall behind your cup.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem dazed.” he expressed his worry, rubbing your shoulders in a soothing manner.

You let out a long sigh. There was no way of avoiding it now. “I’ve been sleeping like two hours a night because I’m literally swamped with work, and I guess the fatigue has finally slipped through the cracks of the almighty caffeine.” You realised how hypocritical it was of you to be in this situation, given the fact that you always pushed Corpse to take better care of himself. 

Without another word, he took you to the living room and sat down against the arm of the couch. He then guided you to sit between his legs and began gently massaging your shoulders and upper back.

“I, out of all people, should know how fucking shitty it feels to get barely any sleep. And I understand how important your work is, but it won’t kill you to take a short break.” His voice sounded so mellow and soothing, you couldn’t help but loosen up in his embrace.

“I actually had a pretty decent day. I found a bakery that made cinnamon fucking raisin bread, so I had to order some. I wasn’t sure if I was going to stream or not, but then James Charles invited me to play hunger games on some Minecraft server. It was fucking insane. We had to like fight each other to death in this huge map-” 

Corpse continued to talk about how he was chased by three people at some point, how scared he was of constantly dying and ultimately not being able to provide good content, but how he ended up having a good few rounds, even managing to kill a couple of folks all by himself. 

━

Slowly opening your eyes, you took a moment to realise you were back in your bed, your pyjamas still on. It was quite dark in your room, near pitch-black. Had all that simply been a super realistic dream? Looking at the time, your brows furrowed more. It was well past bed-time. Suddenly, the door to your bedroom had opened and in came a curly haired figure.

“Shit, you’re awake.” he spoke as quietly as he could so as to not disturb the peace, “I had to take my medication, but the fucking bottle wouldn’t open. I’m sorry if I was too loud.”

A sleepy smile creeped onto your face. “You didn’t wake me up, bubba, don’t worry.”

He crawled under the covers and snaked his arms around your frame. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good, actually. Thank you.” you sighed contentedly, closing your eyes once again as you breathed in his cologne.

“Good, because you’re gonna be stuck here until you’re fully rested. There is no escaping the embrace of death. You try, you die.” You would have laughed at his nonsensical humor, had it not been for the exhaustion that had taken over your mind and body. The last thing you registered before drifting off to a long-awaited slumber was a delicate kiss placed on the top of your head and a very quiet “I love you”.

[spaceorphan18]

Head Over Feet (2/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other’s orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Since the first chapter seemed to be such a huge hit - I'm dropping this today. This was all originally supposed to be the first chapter anyway! Going forward, I'm going to try to update once a month. Thanks for reading - and I hope you enjoy! :)

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :)

***

Chapter 2: Loser Like Me (Part Two) 

Kurt Hummel loves sex.  He loves the feeling of strong hands holding his body, rough lips against his skin, and a hard cock buried deep within him.  And that morning he had woken up feeling particularly horny.  He isn’t sure what exactly he had been dreaming about but his dick aches to be touched.  And luckily he shares his bed with a very hot guy who doesn’t mind taking care of it for him.  

He and Ian have been together a little over a year now, though this moving in together thing is new and still taking time to get used to.  Sex, however, is not an adjustment they need to make.  Ian doesn’t seem to mind Kurt waking him up with a hand on his cock, desperate to be fucked.  Ian might be a little slow to wake, but not long after they start, Ian’s already pulling Kurt to a quick orgasm; Kurt spilling all over Ian’s fist as Ian pumps his hips into Kurt from behind.  

The thing is, as much as Kurt loves sex, he’s not one to draw it out.  Kurt finds himself holding steady onto the bed frame, staring at the wallpaper, as Ian takes his time fucking him.  And the wallpaper is incredibly ugly.  Seriously.  He knows that Ian isn’t the one to have picked it out, but it’s a striped puke-green, burnt-orange, and tacky-gold, left over, most likely, from a renovation to the old building from the sixties.  It’s a travesty that it’s remained on the wall so long, and if Ian would just fucking come already, he wouldn’t be forced to stare at it for so long.  

Kurt fucks his hips back a little, hoping that Ian will pick up the pace.  He leans back for a kiss (that wallpaper is seared forever in his head, god) and gives out a little moan.  It’s a tiny bit performative, but it seems to do the trick, and Ian’s hips finally begin to snap, pushing him to his own orgasm.  

“Fuck, Kurt, I could wake up this way every day for forever,” Ian says, sucking a kiss to his shoulder.  

The word ‘forever’ echoes in Kurt’s brain uncomfortably.  Kurt turns in Ian’s arms, quieting him with a kiss.  “Happy to oblige.”

Ian goes in to deepen the kiss, but Kurt pulls away.  Now that he’s feeling a bit satisfied, he wants nothing more than to take a shower and get ready for the day.  He’s got about a thousand things to do, and he’s eager to get started.  Ian tries to keep him close -- he’s always wanting to make out after sex -- but Kurt manages to slip out of Ian’s light grasp.  

“Shower time,” Kurt says, wiggling his eyebrows.  

“Mmm, let me join you.”

The thought suddenly makes Kurt twitch but he tries not to show it.  What is wrong with him? His incredibly handsome boyfriend, with his disheveled dark hair and playfully pleading light eyes wants to join him in the shower for a possible part two of morning sexy times.  But having Ian shoved in next to him in their tiny shower stall makes him feel claustrophobic.  

He pushes past his discomfort to allow Ian to join him.  He even gives in to a little light making-out.  But there’s no way sex is happening in that bathroom.  

They do their morning routine together, bumping into each other in the tiny bathroom.  The sink is covered in bottles and sprays, creams and soaps, razors and combs, and they have to reach over each other to grab what they need.  Kurt is normally a very organized person, and when he moved in, he took the time to organize a side for each of them. But since then, Ian’s stuff has slowly migrated over to his side, and Ian’s slowly been using the products on Kurt’s side.  And mostly, he’d be fine with the sharing if things would just keep their place.  However, he doesn’t say anything, enjoying Ian’s good mood.  

Ian suggests breakfast, wanting to go to the little bagel shop a few blocks down.  He asks Kurt to walk with him but, just wanting a few minutes to check his emails alone, he declines.  Ian throws a look of disappointment but heads out, stating he’ll bring Kurt something back.  Kurt tries not to feel guilty about it, and reminds himself that there’s nothing wrong with wanting a few minutes to yourself.  Besides, Ian’s still excited that they’re living together.  He’ll calm down.  Surely.   Right?  

Ian being gone gives Kurt a few minutes to pick up the apartment.  There are clothes discarded in the living room, where they had been left after starting sex on the couch the night before.  There’s an old pizza box sitting on the coffee table, a few mugs with half-drunk tea, and a scattering of papers.  And underneath a pile of Ian’s sheet music is the mail from the previous week, most of which is Kurt’s.  He clenches his jaw as he goes through it, annoyed that he’s just now seeing it.  

There are a couple of old bills in here that need to be paid, as well as a bright red envelope that looks like an invitation sent from McKinley High.  He looks over the invitation with curiosity, though something else quickly catches his eye.  It’s a jewelry catalogue sent to Ian.  Specifically, a men’s jewelry catalogue.  And Ian doesn’t wear jewelry.  Highly suspect of it, he looks it over, and a growing anxiety starts to spread.  This could not possibly mean…

The door slams shut and Kurt jumps from his spot on the couch.  It’s just Ian home from the bagel shop.  

“I got your favorite, multigrain with that fancy whipped cream cheese that you like,” Ian says.  He hands him the bag and gives him a kiss on the cheek before sitting down next to him.  

“You didn’t give me my mail,” Kurt grumbles, taking the bag.  Then adds a quiet, “thank you.”  

Ian shrugs it off.  “I figured you’d see it eventually.  I’ve been wondering when you’d open that red envelope.  I wanna know what it is.”

“Oh,” Kurt places the bag with his breakfast on the coffee table and picks up the envelope from his lap, opening it.  He gives it a fond smile.  “I guess my old choir director is retiring.  There’s a party for him back in Lima.”  

“Well, that’s cool,” Ian says, grabbing the invitation out of his hand.  “Quaint.  I’m guessing you aren’t going?  I mean, other than mentioning your dad, I’ve never heard you talk about your time in Ohio.  Hell, I’ve never even heard early New York stories.  All I know is one day you walked into my piano bar, a full grown man, mysterious and sexy.”  Ian wiggles his eyebrows.  “Hard to imagine you in high school.”  

“Well, I can assure you I was anything but sexy,” Kurt says.  A flash of a memory crosses his brain - one of a performance in a warehouse, lots of boys in blazers, and a really uncomfortable situation for young Kurt.  He shakes his head, ridding his mind of it.  

“So, are you going to go?” Ian asks, far more interested in the idea than Kurt is.  

Kurt scrunches his nose at the thought.  He hasn’t stepped foot in Ohio for a better part of a decade.  There aren’t even people from high school he still talks to, not on a regular basis anyway.  It’s sweet of Will Schuester’s family to think of him, but maybe he’s better off sending a card or something.  

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, he stares at the invitation, unsure of how he feels about it.  “I don’t know.”

***

Wednesdays mean that Ian is home all day.  He is a classical pianist by trade and his day job is playing with one of New York’s symphony orchestras.  In the evenings, he usually plays gigs at local bars.  But on Wednesday, he has time off from both jobs to be home all day.  Wednesday used to be the day where Kurt spent all his time with Ian.  Now that they live together, Kurt usually spends his Wednesday anywhere but home.  

It usually lands him at his own job, running a small theater that he co-owns with his old friend, Elliott Gilbert.  Technically, Elliott’s rich grandmother’s money bought the theater, and Kurt had been brought on to manage the projects and productions that happened there.  It’s still quite a work in progress, as the building had been nearly condemned when they originally bought it a few years earlier.  But with all their hard work, they’re beginning to draw in better productions, and this might be the first year they actually draw a profit.  

When he gets in that afternoon, he finds Elliott up in the rafters, working on some of the lights.  Kurt watches for a moment as Elliott finishes whatever he’s working on.  It’s hard to say, but he has the toolbox with him, so Kurt can only guess it has to do with the lights nearly coming down the other night.  They really need to get an electrician in, but Elliott’s pretty handy about these things, and will at least try to do what he can before they have to ask for help.  

Kurt watches a good few minutes as Elliott finishes up and comes down the ladder.  

“You’re being quiet,” Elliott says, carefully bringing down the toolbox as he reaches the bottom of the ladder.  Kurt, hands in pockets, just gives a gentle shrug.  “You’re not usually quiet, which means it can only be one of a few things.  Something’s up with your dad.  You want a favor.  Or it’s boyfriend problems.”

“Well, my dad is fine, and I don’t need anything,” Kurt says.  “So….”

Elliott lets out a heavy sigh, and places the toolbox on the ground.  “It wouldn’t kill you to go to therapy, you know.”

“You’re not my therapist?”

“Alright, so this session is going to cost you three-hundred dollars,” Elliott looks at his watch.  “You have twenty minutes.  Go.”

Kurt lets out a laugh as he follows Elliott to the edge of the stage.  Elliott jumps off but Kurt lowers himself to sit on the edge, his legs hanging off.  Elliott makes a shrug for Kurt to get on with it.  

“So, I was going through some mail, and I found this jewelry catalogue.  It had a lot of men’s engagement rings,” Kurt says.  Elliott makes a face as if to say ‘and…?’  Kurt purses his lips.  “I think Ian might ask me to marry him.”  

“Have you guys even talked about marriage?”

“Definitely not.”  

Elliott doesn’t seem at all convinced.  “Maybe it was just an ad then.  I get shit like that all the time.  I somehow managed to be subscribed to a women’s lingerie catalogue for years.”  

Kurt still can’t rid himself of the low-level anxiety he’s been feeling about it all day.  “Even so, I just… don’t like the idea.”  

“I thought you and Ian were doing great?”

“We are, we are,” Kurt says.  Elliott, again, doesn’t seem convinced.  “Ian’s in the honeymoon stage of wanting to do everything together, and I don’t know.  We’ve been together for a year.  We know how we are.  Do we really need to do everything together now that we live together?”  

Elliott folds his arms across his chest.  “Kurt, if this is becoming an issue, why did you agree to move in with him in the first place?”

Kurt stares up at the ceilings.  The old, red curtains have a few fringes and tears, and Kurt wonders vaguely, if they should get new ones or if anyone would really notice.  He kicks the stage lightly as he avoids Elliott’s question.  “I mean, my apartment lease was up, and they were going to double my rent.”  

“Oh, god,” Elliott chokes out.  “Please tell me that wasn’t the only reason.”  

“It’s not,” his voice squeaks a little too much on the words.  “I also, you know, love him.”  

Elliott shakes his head.  Kurt knows judgment when he sees it.  “This is just classic Kurt,” he says.  

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with having an adjustment period with having to live with someone after I’ve had my own place for so long,” Kurt says, defending himself.  

“Uh-huh.”

“I just like my independence.”

Elliott’s eyebrow is arched high.  “Or you like sabotaging your relationships.”

Kurt scoffs, looking off to the side of the stage.  They’re going to need to scrub this whole place down before allowing anyone to do a production here again.  Elliott, however, is not letting him off the hook, and eyes him hard.  “I do not do that.”

“Then why have I seen you more in the past couple of weeks than you’ve probably seen him?”

It’s a fair question, Kurt admits to himself.  “Well, I do find you tolerable.”  

“Kurt, you don’t find any of your boyfriends tolerable,” Elliott says.  He almost sounds annoyed, but he knows Elliott’s limits and he knows he hasn’t reached them.  But truth be told, he’s as sick of himself as Elliott probably is.  “Who was that guy before Ian? That Matt guy? Why did you break up with him?”

He picked the scab, of course Elliott is going to rip open the old wounds.  “Because he wanted me to be ‘a part of the family’,” Kurt replies, using air quotes to highlight his point.  Matt had been a sweet guy, but his family had been his life.  He hadn’t been ready to be a part of any family, let alone one that had been as close as Matt’s had been.  He felt as if he had been suffocating every time they went to visit.  “His family was crazy.  I didn’t need to be a part of that.”  

Elliott nods, continuing on.  “Okay, and Joey was the one before that.  I remember him because he helped clean up this place when we bought it.”  

Kurt bites his lip.  He did feel bad about that.  Joey had been so quick to offer his time.  But Joey also had been there.  All the time.  It had been too much.  “He was super clingy,” Kurt says quietly, though he hates that he’s seeing the trend.

“Sure he was,” Elliott says.  A grin slips onto his lips.  “And then there was Steven.”  

“He wanted to marry me six months into the relationship,” Kurt says.  He snaps a little too loud, his voice echoing in the empty theater.  Elliott remains amused, even if Kurt is not.  “Who knows they want to get married six months into a relationship?  Why are you getting on my case about this?  It’s not like you don’t go through, like, three guys a week.”  

Elliott throws his head back in a laugh.  “Well, I am at peace with my slutty ways.  Look, Kurt, it’s not about the number of guys you go through.   It’s just that, well, honestly, I’ve known you forever.  And I know you’re this old school romantic and the slutty ways will never be satisfying for you.  Did it ever occur to you that the reason it doesn’t work out with these guys is not because you’re this progressive independent, but because deep down you want to be an old school married, and haven’t found the right person to be with yet?”

The gnawing pit in his stomach starts to fade as he thinks about the old fantasy -- the one he had as a kid, where you met your prince, and you lived happily ever after.  Only, real life doesn’t happen like that.  Most guys are not princes, and the ones who are don’t always lead to happily ever after.  He knows better than to be unrealistic, but maybe he’s pushing people too far away.  

“Do you think I’ve made a mistake?” Kurt asks, he begins bouncing his foot against the stage again.  

Elliott goes soft in deposition.  “You know I can’t answer that for you.”

“You’re probably right,” Kurt says.  He thinks of Ian - of his kind smile and good heart.   He shouldn’t be running, even if every ounce of him feels like it’s too much.  “Ian is a good guy, and I’ve been…”

“Difficult?”

“I was going to say myself, but thank you.”

“I do my best.” Elliott playfully taps his knee.  “If you want, though, you can crash at my place for a few days.  I’m gonna be out of town.  Some third cousin is getting married, and Mom insists that everyone be there.”

“No, I’m good,” Kurt insists.  And then an idea hits him.  “You know, I got an invitation to go back to Lima.  Old high school choir thing.  Maybe I’ll take a long vacation and do that.  It could give me some time to clear my head -- reflect on my questionable life choices.”  

Elliott gives a hearty laugh.  “You haven’t talked about Lima in years.  Besides, going back to Lima might force you to dig into your past, and we all know how much you enjoy doing that.”

Kurt swats at Elliott.  “It’ll be fine.  What’s the worst that can happen?”

***

After work, Kurt doesn’t go home right away.  Instead, he opts to walk around the city for a while.  There’s a slight chill, causing him to bundle his jacket a little tighter, and the sky is overcast, threatening a storm rolling in.  He won’t be out too late, but he knows Ian is back home waiting for him and he’s just not ready for it yet.  

His conversation with Elliott plays over in his head.  He does like his independence.  He always has.  Even when he had been a little boy, his parents had let him play on his own.  And after years of rejection from kids his own age, he learned that sometimes being on your own is your best bet.  It’s not that he doesn’t like the company his boyfriends have brought him over the years.  He just likes his space. And his peace and quiet. And his room to move about as he pleases.  And sometimes boyfriends make him feel too tied down.  

But he can’t help but think about what Elliott had said.  The thing that seems to stick in his brain, wiggling to the forefront of his thoughts.  Maybe he wants to be an old married? Maybe he does want that connection, that one person who seems to know him, who understands him enough that there will be days when they’re inseparable, and days when they’re apart.  He likes the idea of coming home to the same face every day to see someone who can read him like a book, who will enjoy the same things as him, who will love him for the insufferable human being he always seems to be.  

But are there really people out there like that?  

Maybe he’s not giving Ian enough credit.  When they had decided to move in together, Kurt thought it had been the most optimal choice.  Living costs would come down.  He’d have a partner to spend his time with.  And the sex.  God, Ian knows how to have sex.  

But permanently?  The buzz of anxiety begins to grow at the thought.  There are too many little things about Ian, too many things about himself that just don’t feel right.  It’s not perfect.  Well -- it’s never going to be perfect, he argues with himself.  But still…  

The storm breaks sooner than Kurt expects, a sudden heavy rain coming down.  Kurt stands on the street corner, looking up at the sky as he gets drenched.  Maybe the universe is trying to tell him something, and he can’t help but laugh as the rain splashes his face.  

Just as he’s about to head home, however, he catches a sign on the corner of a building.  A sign advertising an open leasing on a loft, with a number attached.  For a moment, he’s transferred back in time to all those years ago, when he lived in a loft in Bushwick with four other people all of whom had been trying to make it in the city.  He hasn’t thought about that loft in ages.  Hasn’t thought about those people in ages.  God, what even happened to…  

He tries hard not to think of the name that first pops in his head.  But he can’t help but see the face.  He shakes his head, as if attempting to get rid of the image.  

Nostalgia hits him just then.  

Nostalgia for a place he left long ago, for people whom he never thought he’d miss.  He is going to take that trip to Lima.  He does need a break from Ian.  He does need to get his life sorted out.  But mostly, he feels a soft ache for returning home -- even if he’s not sure where that is anymore.  

***

A week later, Kurt finds himself rolling up to one of Lima’s three motels in a car he rented at the airport.  It’s strange coming back to the city he grew up in and, yet, not returning back to his childhood home.  He had thought about driving past, but he hadn’t necessarily wanted to see through the window to see whatever happy suburban family had bought the place.  Instead, he had driven straight to the motel that he had booked himself the moment he knew he would be coming back.  

There is something surreal about returning to the place you grew up after so much time has passed.  It’s like time has frozen, remaining exactly the same as the moment you left, even if there are new storefronts in the old buildings, expansions where wooded areas used to be, and a real attempt, it seems, to clean the place up.  It feels unchanged, and Kurt can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing.  It’s just a thing.  

It’s evening by the time he gets in.  The motel room is bland and tiny, and the four channels on the TV don’t offer much entertainment.  He lays down on the bed to stare at the ceiling, thinking if there’s anything he could do.  Most places in Lima shut down before eight, even on a Friday night.  And it’s not like he has anyone to call. He had been texting Mercedes Jones earlier in the week, shocked that her number had still been the same, but she had explained that she wouldn’t be getting in until very late and implied that whatever plans she had wouldn’t be with him.  He had understood, and it’s not like he won’t be seeing her the next day anyway.  Scrolling through his phone, he finds that he doesn’t have a single other contact from high school he could call.  

Maybe he should just text Ian -- but as his thumb hovers over his boyfriend’s name, he remembers that Ian is probably playing a concert that weekend. And even if he waits until later when Ian’s home, he just doesn’t want to ruin Ian’s good time by explaining that he can’t quite quash the crushing sense of loneliness that seems to be his homecoming.  

Why did he think this would be a good idea?

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a neon flashing light, and through the window he sees a building that he hasn’t thought about in years.  Thinking anywhere is better than being stuck in that sad motel room for the next twelve hours, Kurt heads out into the night.  

***

Scandals is, if nothing else, exactly how he remembers it.  Not that his memories are anything more than fuzzy blips of moments from long ago.  He remembers the same posters being on the wall, in the same tattered state.  He remembers the huge, neon signs lining the walls.  And god, the music even feels strikingly similar.  There aren’t, he thinks with a laugh, any drag queens though.  

The atmosphere is quiet for a Friday night.  There are a few guys out on the dance floor, enjoying each other’s company, but most of the people in the bar are huddled in the darkened corners.  No one looks up from their conversations to notice him come in.  The bouncer is too busy flirting with a denim dressed, bearded guy leaning against the wall to notice him slip by.  

He’s not a few steps in when he realizes coming out to a bar seems like a silly thing to do, but makes a deal with himself to have one drink before he heads back to the motel and to do the sensible thing in calling Ian.  

But as he heads to the bar, he sees something that makes him freeze in his tracks.  

Is that…?

It can’t possibly be…?

Blaine Anderson is sitting at the bar, casually chatting with the bartender as he sips a beer.  Kurt is stunned to see him, his mind reeling at how this is even possible.  There is only one gay bar in Lima.  And he’s probably here for the reunion.  

But still… Blaine Anderson, of all people.  

There’s a tiny part of him that wants to run.  Turn on his heel and walk right back out of that bar and not even worry about the formal meeting they’ll inevitably have tomorrow at the reunion.  He doesn’t though.  

He watches Blaine for a moment, in his element, throwing his head back to laugh at something the bartender said.  It’s astounding to Kurt at how much and how little Blaine has changed.  Age, it seems, has done him well.  There’s less gel in his hair, allowing the natural curls to reveal themselves.  His face is harder, jawbone more defined. He’s wearing a dark sweater vest, but no bowtie, and the shirt underneath is unbutton, revealing a wisp of hair on his chest.  Blaine is no longer that young boy he once knew.  Sitting at the bar is a man.  

And yet… his movements are exactly the same.  The way he crinkles his eyes when he laughs, the way he lightly touches the bartender’s arm while expressing his point, the way casually plays with the napkin on the counter.  That’s still the Blaine he used to know.  

Kurt takes a deep breath, releasing the tension running through him.  He could leave… but he doesn’t really want to.  It’s been a decade since they’ve seen each other.  That’s enough time to let old wounds heal, right?

Kurt takes the plunge.

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you.  Mind if I buy you a drink?”

Blaine turns around, utterly shocked to see him there.  Kurt’s confidence slips as the silence lingers.  Maybe this had been a bad idea.  But then, Blaine breaks out into a grin.  

“Kurt?” He says his name slowly, as if it’s unfamiliar in a way, but easily slides off his stool, going in for a hug.  It’s awkward -- where do you put your hands and arms? How close do you stand? How do you properly greet someone you once agreed to share your life with?  Someone who is a relative stranger now.  It’s bizarre to him that somehow, Blaine still feels so familiar in his arms. “Please, join me.” Blaine offers the stool next to him as they slip apart.  “I’ll definitely take you up on that drink.”

Kurt sits down, suddenly feeling much more nervous than he had been.  Blaine waives down the bartender -- asking for beer, while Kurt shortly asks for an amaretto sour.  He definitely needs something to calm him down.  How is Blaine being so calm? Is he hiding it better? Or is it that he’s soon to be on his third beer?

“So, what are you doing here?” Blaine asks, placing his head on his hand, now looking amused.  There’s no anger there. No resentment, or negativity.  Blaine genuinely seems to be happy to see him.  Based on how they had left things all that time ago, Blaine could have harbored some ill will towards him.  But they are both adults now.  And it had been a long, long time ago.  

“I’m in town for Mr. Schue’s retirement party,” Kurt says.  He rubs his legs, not sure what to do with his hands.

Blaine nods, finishing off the beer he had been drinking when Kurt had arrived.  “Oh, yeah, I figured that.  I meant, what are you doing here ?” He uses both hands to point down.  

“Oh!” Kurt feels a little silly not understanding.  Thankfully, the bartender brings them their drinks.  Kurt wastes no time gulping half of it down as if it were a shot.  “I saw it from the motel window.  Call me crazy, but I was feeling nostalgic.”

“Huh,” Blaine takes a long sip from his bottle, narrowing his eyes as he thinks it over.  “You’re not staying with Burt?”

“Oh, god, right you wouldn’t know,” Kurt laughs as he stirs his drink.  “Dad retired a few years ago.  He and Carole moved to Arizona to be closer to her sister.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

“I guess I could have stayed with Uncle Andy,” Kurt continues, remaining fixated on his drink as he talks.  “He and his sons took over the tire shop.  But we’re not exactly close.  And he has, like, ten dogs.  I’d rather take my chances with the motel.”

Blaine nods, sympathetically.  

“What about you?” Kurt asks.  “How’s your family?”

“They’re pretty good,” Blaine says, easily.  “Cooper has three little girls.  Here, let me show you.”  Blaine wastes no time fishing out his phone, scrolling through the roll for a picture of three gorgeous young girls who all, clearly, take after Cooper.  Kurt coos accordingly but he can’t help but notice Blaine’s left hand, and the indentation of skin where a ring used to be.  It makes him wonder.

“So, what are you doing now?” Kurt asks, trying to relax on his stool.  He rests his elbow on the wooden bar, and his head on his hand.

“I teach, actually.  New York Institute of Fine Arts,” Blaine says, taking another sip of his beer with a laugh.  “I mean, I still perform every now and then.  But an adjunct professor was needed, and a friend of mine pulled some strings, and I just kind of fell into it.  I love it though.”  There’s no lie in Blaine’s voice.  Blaine had always been a passionate person, but it’s clear by his demeanor that he loves his job.  

Kurt smiles meekly, happy for him.  “A private school, of course.  How very you.  Actually, now that I think of it, that’s not far from my theater.”

“You have a theater?” Blaine’s eyes grow wide with interest.  

“Well, half a theater,” Kurt rocks his head from side to side, as if it’s a silly little thing, and not the pride and joy that he’s sunk most of his adult life into, now.  He plays with the nearby peanut bowl.  “The Gilbert Theater.”

“Oh, I know that place,” Blaine says.  There’s excitement in his voice.  Kurt isn’t sure why this makes him happy.    “I thought it had been condemned.  I mean - I’m sure you’ve fixed it up.”

“Oh we have,” Kurt says, thinking about all the work he’s put into it over the years.  “Elliott and I renovated it.  You wouldn’t even recognize it now.”

Blaine takes another slow slip of his drink.  “Elliott?  Like from college?” Kurt nods slowly. “Ah. So are you guys…”

“Oh, no,” Kurt quickly corrects.   “God, no.  Business partners only.”  It’s such a funny thought to him.  Elliott.  They’re like brothers.  No, he’s definitely not romantically linked with Elliott.  There is someone else… but he quickly pushes Ian out of his brain.  He doesn’t want to think about him. “So this is crazy, right? That we both ended up in the same sleazy place?  Maybe the universe was trying to push us together again.”

Blaine gives an uncomfortable laugh. “Well, there is only one gay bar in Lima, but I suppose…”

An awkward silence grows between them.  Blaine bops his head to the music.  Kurt munches on some peanuts.  They both avoid direct eye contact.  The uneasiness that Kurt had felt when he first walked in begins to return.  Maybe he should go.  

The bartender breaks the silence, asking Blaine if he’d like another drink.  There’s an ease there that Kurt picks up on.  Blaine knows the guy -- like really knows the guy.  Kurt shifts from side to side not sure what to say or do.  He eyes the door, he can still slip out if he needs to.  

“Man, I cannot believe how little this place has changed since I used to come here,” Blaine says, taking a look around.  

“You mean when we were in high school?” Kurt asks.  He’d hardly say coming the three times that they did a lot.  

“No, it was actually after…” he trails off but Kurt picks up on what he’s saying.  After they broke up.  After he broke Blaine’s heart.  Blaine kind of skips past the beat.  Why dredge up all that old stuff.  That’s what the reunion is for, right? Something turns in the pit of Kurt’s stomach.  “When I moved back to Lima, I used to come here a lot.  Thought maybe throwing myself into this place might make me feel better.  Not so alone, you know?”

“Did it help?” Kurt’s voice is small.  

“Maybe,” Blaine says with another laugh.  “I don’t know, it was so long ago.  You know it…” he pauses, thinking it over.  “Alright, if I tell you something - do you promise not to run screaming?”

Kurt’s intrigued.  “Of course.”

Blaine stares intently at his bottle.  “After you and I ended things -- I came back to Lima.  And I sorta, kinda dated Dave Karofsky for a while.”

Of all the things that Blaine could have said -- that is the last thing Kurt expects to hear.  It makes Kurt chuckle into his drink.  He can’t even picture it, it’s such a wild thought.  “Wait, seriously?”

“Shocking, right?”

“A little.  More so that you were into a bear.”

The tension breaks as they let go into easy laughter.  The conversation becomes lighter as they begin to discuss old things.  They talk about Dave Karofsky, and how someone who had once been Kurt’s ghost had turned into a friend whom Kurt sees every few years for lunch.  Blaine mentions he had attended Dave’s wedding.  Kurt mentions he had lunch with Dave and his husband last year.  It’s strange how things can change so much in twenty years.  

They talk about Dalton -- though not about that staircase.  The staircase that will forever be burned in his memory for better or worse.  Instead, they talk about Sebastian Smythe with fondness, though neither could say where he ended up. And about the one time Blaine sang at the Gap to impress a guy whose name neither can remember.  

And for a moment, unprovoked, Blaine mentions his husband.  It’s a startling jolt into reality, but Blaine doesn’t give him any more than a name and a passing story about having to explain to his husband why he refuses to shop at The Gap.  It’s not like Kurt hadn’t heard Blaine had gotten married.  He doesn't remember who had told him or when or even how he had felt about it.  Blaine had wanted to be married.  He got his wish.  And Kurt is happy for him.  He wants to be happy for him.  Still, that missing ring…

As they reminisce, the bartender brings them more drinks.  The room begins to feel warm and familiar.  Kurt isn’t sure if it’s alcohol or Blaine that is making him feel so comfortable so far from home.  They talk about high school and old friends, people whom they’ve lost touch with and people they’re looking forward to seeing tomorrow.  Kurt learns that Blaine developed a surprisingly deep friendship with Santana Lopez.  Blaine learns that Kurt hasn’t talked to Rachel Berry since college.

“I just couldn’t after that show,” Kurt explains.  They’re both giggly from drinking too much - Kurt having to hold his hands up when the bartender offers him a third.  “I mean - not that she even tried to keep in touch with me.  But my god did you watch that thing? It was terrible! She was fine - she was always fine.  But who decided that would be what America wanted to see for a decade?”

Blaine snickers into his drink.  “Well, personally I was offended.  ‘Slaine’,” he uses both hands to make air quotes around the character’s names, “was written out after year two.  I was like ‘fuck that’.  It’s just as well.  Had he stayed on, I might have had to sue their asses for defamation of character.”

“You are not wrong,” Kurt says, unable to stop laughing as he thinks about it.  He puts a hand on Blaine’s shoulder to balance himself so as to not fall off his stool.  

Blaine notices and smirks.  “How drunk are you right now?”

“Less drunk than you are,” Kurt smiles into his glass.  He is buzzed but not at all drunk.  In fact, he feels good and relaxed and happy.  When had he last been this happy?  “Anyway… All I know is that a terrible writer wrote ‘Cert’ as the sassy yet sexless gay best friend.  And he stayed on the show.  The. Entire. Run.  If anyone has the right to sue, it’s going to be me.”  

“Well, for what it’s worth.  I don’t think Cert was anything like you,” Blaine says.  He leans in close.  Kurt can smell the sweet scent of raspberries.   “Personally, I thought you were always sexy.”

Something in the atmosphere shifts.  Suddenly, Blaine is close.  Close enough that he can see the depths of Blaine’s golden eyes.  There’s something there that Kurt hasn’t seen in a long time, and it causes him to break.  

He’s not sure what it is that makes him say it.  He’s not sure if it’s the heaviness of guilt, or the friendliness of Blaine’s demeanor, or the fact that all of this nostalgia is causing him to reflect on his life’s choices - but he can’t help but let the words stumble out.  “Blaine, I’m so sorry.”  

Blaine looks at him, genuinely confused.  “For what?

“For a lot of things, I feel like I owe you an apology for so many things,” Kurt rambles on.  “I was not in a good place and you… I shouldn’t have ended it.  I mean I shouldn’t have ended it the way that I did.  I shouldn’t have hurt you like that.  And I’m sorry that I did.”

Blaine takes a moment to think it over, as if he’s processing everything Kurt’s saying.  “Kurt…” he lets out a sigh. “You weren’t the only one who was a mess back then.  You don’t have anything to be sorry about.  We had a good thing.  We had a great thing, even.  But it’s fine.  It’s all in the past, and I’m fine.”  

Kurt feels a bit of relief wash over him.  Maybe this is why he needed to come back.  Maybe he had just needed to bury his demons.  He feels lighter than he has in, well, a while.  He reaches out for Blaine’s hand and squeezes it.  It feels comforting in his own.  

“Look at us now, all grown up,” Kurt says, a smile sliding across his face.  “I mean, you’re married and I’m…”

“Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s an open marriage.”

Blaine places his free hand just above Kurt’s knee and squeezes, ever so lightly, he holds it there, stroking his thumb along the side of his thigh.  It’s an invitation.  His cock gets there first, as he watches Blaine’s hand, firm and strong.  His brain becomes fuzzy, but all he can fixate on is the urge to have Blaine’s hand travel up.  This is closure, right?

“Come with me,” Kurt makes the quick decision not to second guess this.  He grabs onto Blaine’s hand with purpose, sliding off the stool and taking Blaine with him.  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Blaine smirk as he throws out a few bills on the counter to pay for the drinks.  

***

They’re in the bathroom stall, where Kurt vaguely remembers making out once back at the end of his senior year.  They never would have done anything as daring as have sex in a public place, but just kissing, even in a place that accepted it, felt naughty and fun back then.  

Now, he couldn’t care less that there are people who might know what they’re doing.  His desire is too strong, his brain clouded in a haze of need to taste Blaine again; the wonder of if it will feel so good after so long.  The room is broken up into stalls, dimly lit, and smells as if they are the next in a long line of gay men who will use this place to relieve themselves in more ways than one.  Kurt pulls Blaine back to the farthest stall, ignoring that there’s another couple occupying another stall, the panting sounds of their fucking echoing in the room.  It only turns him on more.  

Once the stall door is locked, Blaine looks at Kurt, his large, dark eyes more sure than Kurt is about this.  It almost throws him off kilter but Kurt looks to Blaine’s mouth, and suddenly he remembers all the things that can be done with it.  His resolve broken, Kurt lunges for a kiss.  

Blaine kisses back with force, pushing Kurt back into the wall.  Kurt doesn’t even care that the metal bar for handicap use is pressing against the back of his thighs.  He just wants to feel Blaine.  They kiss deeply, wantonly.  His sense memory returns and suddenly he feels like a teenager again, hungry for Blaine back when he had been first discovering what sex is.  Kurt moans into the kiss that encourages Blaine to slide his tongue against Kurt’s.  

They’re all hands and mouths, wrapping themselves around each other as they make-out.  Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck, combing his fingers through Blaine’s curls as he pulls Blaine closer to him, enough so that their bodies are sliding against each other.  Blaine brings his hands down to Kurt’s ass and squeezes with both hands.  Fuck.  He doesn’t remember the last time he’s gotten so hard so fast.  

They begin to rock against each other as they kiss.  Kurt can feel Blaine’s hard cock pushing up against his own.  If they keep going at this speed, he is not going to last long, and dammit, he refuses to come in his pants.  

Kurt breaks the kiss, only for Blaine to start kissing along his jaw and down his neck, Blaine’s touch is electric, and Kurt can’t help but feel dizzy with pleasure.  He loses himself in Blaine’s embrace, soaking up the feeling as much as he can.  It’s been fifteen years since they’ve fucked - how can this possibly feel so good?  

Blaine works his way back up to Kurt’s mouth, though this time, Kurt is able to slow it down.  Kurt busies his hands with the buttons on Blaine’s pants.  Blaine takes a slight step back, allowing for Kurt to pull him out.  Kurt takes a quick second to look down at Blaine’s cock; his thick and delicious cock.  If only they weren’t in a bathroom stall right now, Kurt would take his time devouring that cock.  Instead, he takes to stroking it, becoming satisfied with the low moans and grunts that are eliciting Blaine’s mouth.  

Blaine steadies himself against the wall, as he begins to pump his hips in time with Kurt’s strokes, fucking himself into Kurt’s hand.  “Let me,” Kurt says, in a low whisper, biting gently at Blaine’s lips before they fall into a sloppy kiss.  Blaine is close - he knows Blaine is close, he can feel it as Blaine arches further into his hand.  Kurt speeds up his hand, deliberate in his strokes.  It’s a little rough, but Blaine becomes more and more undone, uttering little obscenities as he closes eyes and allows himself the pleasure.  Blaine comes, jolting into Kurt’s hand, and lets out a moan that Kurt covers with a kiss.  

“Give me a second,” Blaine says, breathlessly, holding firmly against the wall as he comes down.  

Kurt smirks, licking the come off his fingers.  His own cock is throbbing with need but there’s something incredibly satisfying seeing Blaine loose and fucked out.  

Blaine takes a second to put himself back in his pants and then goes down on his knees.  This isn’t at all what Kurt had been expecting, and his eyes go wide as Blaine sucks a kiss over Kurt’s clothed cock.  

“You really don’t have to do that,” Kurt says, feeling a little guilty.  Blaine’s legs are sticking out of the stall door and anyone could interrupt them.  

“Shut up and let me blow you, Kurt,” Blaine says, a wicked grin on his face as he unzips Kurt’s zipper.  Kurt’s cock bobs free, and like a man allowed to drink water after years in the desert, Blaine sucks Kurt all the way down in one go.  

“Jesus, fuck Blaine.”  He really doesn’t care if there’s anyone else in there who can hear them.  Blaine had always been good at blow jobs; always so eager to give them, and Kurt’s glad to know that Blaine’s enthusiasm hasn’t changed.  Blaine sucks him down, greedily, and he loses himself in the sensation of Blaine’s velvety mouth on him.  

“I’m curious about something,” Blaine says, pulling off.  Kurt can’t imagine what, but he doesn’t have to wait long to find out.  Blaine begins to stroke him, slowly, drawing it out.  Then sucks a kiss to the tip of Kurt’s cock, using his tongue to swirl and tease it, before he sucks him down once more.  Kurt lets out a heavy groan as his knees nearly buckle.  “Huh. So that really still does things for you?”

Kurt can’t help but give a little laugh.  “Shut up and finish me off, Blaine,” Kurt manages the tease despite him now being desperate to come.  

Amused, Blaine obliges, sucking Kurt into his mouth again. Kurt closes his eyes, taking it all in as he lets Blaine take him over the edge.   He spills into Blaine’s mouth, Blaine being able to swallow with ease -- something, he notes, Blaine hadn’t been able to do before.  As Blaine pulls off, he licks his lips, and remains on his knees for a long moment.  

The atmosphere then shifts suddenly.  Blaine looks down for a long while, and Kurt can’t tell what Blaine’s feeling -- Guilt? Sadness? Regret?

“Thank you for that,” Blaine says, his sincerity layered with something that feels like finality.  Blaine gives Kurt’s hip a kiss before helping put Kurt back into his jeans.  There’s something strangely intimate about it, and despite the fact that Kurt is feeling blissed out from his orgasm it’s now tinged with a heavier, unknown feeling.  Blaine gets to his feet.  There’s a lot going on behind his eyes that Kurt can’t read, but Blaine says nothing, only gives Kurt a soft kiss on the lips.  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”  

Blaine leaves the stall but Kurt stays, unsure what to make of everything that happened.  A lot just happened.  A lot.  And as the buzz of sex begins to wear off, a sickening gnawing grows in his stomach.  He just had sex with his ex-fiancé whom he hasn’t seen in years.  He just cheated on his boyfriend.  But what makes Kurt feel the worst, as he slides down the wall to sit on the sticky floor because his legs can no longer hold him, is the realization that for Blaine - that might have been his way of saying goodbye.  

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

How to Catch a Boyfriend Part 5

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3    Part 4

Warnings for mention of Child Abuse

How to Catch a Boyfriend Part 5

Billy and Tommy do not end up with any serious consequences, the coach showing up before the fight can get too far, a split lip and some black eyes between them. Steve while technically not in the fray smooth talks them both out of worse punishment than running laps around the track. Billy is pretty sure the coach is not even watching them as they move around the field but Steve is.

 Billy can see him in the parking lot, hanging behind despite being in the free and clear, seated on the trunk of his Beamer. Sometimes Billy thinks he feels Steve’s eyes on him but every time he looks up Steve’s attention is on some brownish lump of fur in his lap that Billy cannot identify from this distance. Billy speeds up wanting to get the laps over with as soon as possible, wanting to meet Steve in the parking lot sure he is waiting for him.

 Billy finishes way before Tommy, who is barely even jogging, pissed off and muttering under his breath each time Billy laps him. The coach waves Billy off the field before he starts blowing his whistle and shouting for Tommy to pick up the pace. Billy rushes through a shower skin still damp as he forces himself into his tight pants.

 By the time he gets outside Steve is sans animal friend and now Billy knows he is being watched because Steve drops his sunglasses down his sharp nose as he approaches the Beamer. Billy licks over his lips nervous anticipation creeping under his skin as he draws closer, the wind picking up and there is that faint sweet scent in his nose again.

 "You shouldn't have done that, I could have handled Tommy." Steve says when Billy is barely two feet away from him and moving in even closer.

Billy snorts "That's a shit way of saying thank you and from what I hear your crap at fighting, can’t plant your feet off the court either." Billy says stopping close enough that if he reached out he could brush his hand against Steve’s knees. He does not but he just barely restrains himself, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them to himself for now.

 Steve shrugs, cheeks going a little pink. "How about I thank you with a burger?" He asks, ignoring the dig as he slides his sunglasses back up his nose. 

 Billy wants to accept, he really, really does but he has to get Max home, he does not want to test it and Susan had asked for her home early. He glances across the field and sure enough he spies her fiery red hair as she practices on her skateboard in the near empty elementary lot. "You could always thank me by healing me." Billy tests.

 "I'm offering you a burger, it'll give your body full to help you heal." Steve says and Billy is pretty sure he is rolling his pretty eyes under those glasses. It does not escape his notice that Steve does not try and deny and he wonders if there is truth to fairies not being able to lie. 

 He is pretty sure trying to force an answer will not work so instead he asks "Can't today, Tomorrow?" He feels excitement under his ribs like they are scheduling a date and Billy knows he is going to have a hard time treating it as anything but.

 "Sure, I'll meet you at the diner after practice?"

 Billy just cannot help himself "It's a date princess." He says with a grin, sure that light flush is darkening as he flicks his tongue over teeth and lips before sauntering over to his car.

 -

 Neil gives him a look when he brings Max home a little later than asked but he does not say anything as Susan hands him a bag of ice wrapped in a hand towel before bustling Max out the door. Billy knows logically the flowers are supposed to protect him but he still tenses as he hears the front door close and Susan's car pull out of the driveway. He moves stiffly toward his room waiting for Neil to do or say something but other than glaring at Billy when he knocks against the fireplace bruising his elbow in his distraction he does nothing. 

 Billy keeps to himself for the night, reading and listening to music, he only ventures out when Susan comes home with a chicken bucket and sides for dinner. No one asks what happened to his face, Max had badgered him about it in the car to no avail. Susan shoots him a few concerned looks like she wants to but she knows better, knows whatever answer Billy gives truth or lie will only rile Neil's anger.

 Still it is like the bruises painting Billy’s face are a reminder to the man that he normally does something about Billy or maybe he is distantly aware that they are in the wrong spots, that there should be more. Billy does not know what is going through Neil's head, he never does, all he knows is the man may not be snapping at him but he is snapping at Susan and Max. Billy does not like it, the way Susan flinches, the tense anticipation that falls over both of them when Max snaps back snotty and defiant but the man keeps his hands to himself so Billy just frowns as he stuffs mashed potatoes in his mouth.

 When he turns his music off lying in bed later that night the nerves that fill him are not for himself knowing the purple and white flowers on his nightstand will keep him protected. Still hearing the front lock click and the floorboards creak as Neil makes his nightly round has tensions shooting through him. He holds his breath as Neil moves further away, jaw aching he is holding it so tight as Nail moves by Max's door. Neil does not stop, footsteps moving further away and Billy finally breathes again as he hears the door to the master bedroom close.

 Billy gets up still fully dressed grabbing his shoes from under the bed and climbs out his window, he is hoping he will find his fairy tonight. Billy flicks Max off when he catches her looking at him through her window, a walkie talkie held close to her face "Go to bed." He mouths at her smirking as she flicks him off in return with a snotty face. He does not bother responding, just turns his back on her and heads for the woods.

 He wanders in the dark, the clouds in the sky keeping him mostly in the dark, carefully picking his way over roots and rocks as he ventures deeper. His heart rate picks up excitement growing as he feels that phantom leading tug. Billy follows it eagerly, stumbling a little as he takes his eyes off the dark ground searching through the trees for that ethereal light where he knows he will find Steve. He is nearly jogging when he spies it in the distance, warmth pricking sweat along his skin as he does his best not to trip and fall.

 Billy breaks through the trees to find Steve using a big leaf like a pool float in the middle of his little puddle, one foot hanging in the water making it ripple as he kicks it. "Hi princess." Billy greets as he slides down the bank and flops down to sit at the edge of the water as his fairy levels him with an unimpressed look.

 "I'm not a princess and I told you to stay out of fights." Steve huffs out little wings flattened out over the waxy green twitching in agitation before he pushes up off of the leaf, wings flapping and taking him into the air as he levels a glare at Billy.

 "Yeah, yeah it was for a good cause." Billy shrugs grinning as Steve’s lips twitch, he definitely wants to smile.

 "Well maybe I shouldn't heal you this time then." Steve threatens and Billy tries not to pout but his bottom lip juts out despite his best efforts. 

 "Fine I'll keep the injuries, badge of honor when I saved the princess." Billy teases and watches Steve mouth open before he quickly snaps it shut, little brow furrowing. Billy is sure whatever was going to come out of his mouth would have been the proof Billy needs to confirm the two Steve’s are one in the same.

 "You're not funny." Steve sniffs tone a little pouty just like his lips and Billy finds it so very cute as he flutters closer filling Billy’s nose with that sweet scent as he reaches out and heals him that warm soothing tingle a comforting balm over his aches and pains. Billy reaches a hand up hoping to touch, wanting to feel more than tiny warm hands but Steve darts away with a sour look. “Don’t.”

 “I wasn’t going to hurt you” Billy insists bottom lip jutting out and even though Steve has removed his hands, he still can feel that warm tingle running through him.

 “Not on purpose.” Steve says after a long considering moment, fluttering to once again rest against Billy’s shoulder, he wore a tank top this evening in the hope Steve would use him as a perch again. “My wings are sensitive, easy to injure.” Billy nods, putting this new information away for later, they do look delicate, shimmery, not quite opaque silvery skin that looks like it would tear like tissue paper.

 “I'll be careful?” Billy tries, he just wants to touch one, wants to know what they feel like.

 “Just the tip.” Steve glowers at him when Billy snorts the air making Steve’s bangs flutter. “Your fingertip asshole, just your fingertip.” He hisses before he starts muttering too low for Billy to hear but he thinks he hears something like childish in there as Steve crosses his arms over his chest wings twitching with his agitation. Billy ignores the possible comments, they do not matter, no, the only thing Billy cares about is that Steve said he could touch his wings and he is brimming with excitement, hand shaking as he brings his hand up.

 Billy holds his breath as Steve goes tense, wings held still as brown eyes watch him, he is careful, more careful than he has ever been with anything in his life as he brings his fingertip to rest against the edge of Steve’s wing before slowly dragging it down. It feels almost gauzy, smooth except for the tiniest indentations that separate each individual overlapping, something Billy is not sure what he would call it, scales maybe like a butterfly has.

 Billy does not miss the way Steve chews at his bottom lip cheeks pink as he shivers. Billy drags his finger tip back and there is a little more drag, a little more definition of the scales. He manages to drag his finger up and down three whole times before Steve shifts and tucks his wings against his back. Billy wants to touch more but he does not press not right now. He is just giddy Steve let him touch even this much, grin so wide his cheeks hurt. 

 "I think that’s enough, time for you to go back home now." Steve says little tongue flicking out over his pink lips as he unfurrows his wings and flutters up off of Billy’s shoulder. Billy instantly misses the warm gentle weight of him perched there.

 "Wait, wait, I have a question first." Billy rushes out before Steve can get to his forehead hands up but they would be useless to stop Steve if he really wanted to put him to sleep as close as he already is.

 "Ask." Steve says with a look that says he does not believe Billy is only going to ask one.

 "The flowers, will they keep him from taking his bullshit out on Susan and Max?" Billy asks, he would rather go back to being Neil's punching bag than that. He remembers what it was like when his mom was still around before she left and it makes him nauseated to imagine history repeating itself with either of them.

 Steve softens giving Billy a sad smile as he moves closer hand brushing under Billy’s eyes and he had not even noticed the tears welling up and falling over not until Steve’s little hand is wiping them away. "I'll make sure to give them some extra protection of their own but he can't physically hurt them within the threshold of the house as long as the flowers haven't completely wilted and dried." Relief fills Billy and it is somehow more nauseating than the nerves and he finds words will not come, all he can do is nod as the tears keep coming.

 "It'll be okay Billy, I'll take care of it." Steve says as he leans in and drops a kiss against Billy’s forehead. Billy loses that sick feeling as sleep drags over him that sweet smell that is Steve comforting him. "His death would still be a simpler solution, you’re lucky I like you." Billy is not sure if he hears that last bit correctly or just imagined it but he has a smile tugging at his lips as he fades out.

Part 6

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Mine

*Daveed Diggs x Reader

*Request: Anonymous asked: “heyyy i really enjoyed reading your writing of Daveed diggs! Can i request one where Daveed diggs and y/n(maybe like a stagehand or a stage manager) meets in hamiliton, and they are friends with benefits, but they also have feelings for each other, and then daveed gets jealous seeing you flirt with other guys and confesses? (iknow its kinda cheesy but... Thanks!”

*Warnings: Language, jealousy, smut (like this fic starts out immediately with a smut scene), light dom/sub, choking, spanking, use of ‘baby girl’, fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, dirty talk, grinding, hair pulling, marking, unprotected sex (wrap it up). Let me know if I missed anything!

*A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all! I’m beginning to notice my smut fics are a lot longer (this one’s about 7.5k). Anyways this got filthy and I think that says a lot about me lol. ALSO BIG WARNING THE FIRST SCENE IN THIS IS A SMUT SCENE SO YOU’VE BEEN WARNED

Tip Jar

**********

You knew you had to get ready for work, but at the moment, you didn’t care. His hand rested heavy on your hip, grip tight enough to bruise, while his other held your body up against his. He pounded into you, low groans and pants right next to your ear letting you know just how close he was. 

“You take me so good, baby girl. So fucking wet for me,” he rasped before biting down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, muffling his noises. You whined, wanting to hear him just as much as he wanted to hear you. He seemed to get the message, kissing the fresh mark before he started talking again. “You’re gonna be late, but you just had to get fucked, didn’t you? Last night wasn’t enough, you just needed me again. I can feel you getting tighter, are you close, baby?”

“Fuck, Daveed, I’m so close. Please,” you whined as he somehow managed to speed up his thrusts.

“Please what, baby? I wanna hear you say it for me.” 

“Please let me cum!” Daveed practically growled as the words left you, bringing his hand from your waist to rub your clit. He always rewarded your obedience. 

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he demanded. The second he gave permission, you could feel the jolts of pleasure through your body as you coated his length in your release. He didn’t last much longer, his thrusts staggered as he chased his own pleasure. He pushed as deep into you as he could before he came with a loud groan, holding you close to him. “Fuck, you always do so good for me.”

You could already feel the fatigue settling in as Daveed moved you to lay with him, his arms around you. If you weren’t already running behind schedule, you would’ve loved to stay there with him, ignoring the mess between your legs until the last possible second. Maybe you’d both drift back into sleep, then go for a lazier round when you woke up again. Maybe he’d join you in the shower, complaining about how hot you always ran the water. But nope, you were already risking being late. 

“Alright, let me up. I gotta go shower,” you said, trying to get out of his hold.

“No, lay with me a bit longer,” he whined. You tried not to laugh; he was always so clingy after sex, even when you were on a tight schedule like this.

“I don’t wanna be late. You can stay in bed, but I swear if you’re late, I’m gonna kick your ass,” you warned, finally slipping out of the bed. Daveed mumbled something into the pillow, but you ignored him as you left for your bathroom. As you waited for the water to heat up, you assessed the damage he’d done. Hickies adorned your bra line, finger-shaped bruises decorated your hips, and even though it wasn’t too aggressive at the moment, you could tell the bite mark he’d just left on you would bruise nicely. You ran your finger over the mark on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so tempted to just go back to Daveed’s warmth in your bed. Before you could convince yourself to join him, you jumped in the shower.

You left Daveed in your apartment with another threat to get to the theatre on time and a reminder to lock the door after himself. The two of you never got to the theatre at the same time, trying your best to hide the little friends with benefits situation you had going on. Sure, people could tell you had a little flirty thing between you, but that was just how the two of you being friends worked. It was always nerve wracking when people (see, Lin) tried setting the two of you up, but you managed somehow. You had the feeling it wouldn’t work if the two of you tried anything more than your current arrangement, not matter how much you sincerely hoped it wasn’t true. You weren’t willing to risk it though, content with just being able to sleep with him.

You enjoyed the walk to the theatre every morning, the brisk air waking you up to deal with everything that was bound to happen during the day. Today wasn’t a show day, so that meant you didn’t have to worry about things going wrong ten minutes before curtain. Rehearsal days were actually pretty calm for the most part. Well, as calm as they could be considering at least half the cast were really just overgrown children.

As usual, you were one of the first ones in the theatre. You took the chance to do your initial once-over, making sure things were where they needed to be for the day. Though you technically were supposed to have one of the stagehands do this, you enjoyed the time to yourself before the day started. Quiet moments were rare in the theatre, and the music playing softly in your headphones allowed you to get lost in your work. The next time you’d get the chance to do this would be after rehearsals were done, and by then you would be too tired to enjoy it.

Once your check was done, all you could do was wait for the others to show up. It would be at least another half hour until people started trickling in - Leslie normally being the first to join you. You waited by the Keurig for your coffee to finish pouring, lost in your thoughts for the things you’d need to do for the day. A new stagehand was going to be joining you, and most of your day would be training them. Even though - once again - this was something one of the stagehands could do, you enjoyed doing it. Before you could get lost further in your thoughts, you jumped at the feeling of a hand placed on your waist.

“What the f-” You turned, tugging one of your earbuds out. You were kind of surprised to see Daveed standing there, smiling wide at your reaction. “What the fuck, Diggs?”

“What? You told me not to be late,” he said, still amused at how he managed to scare you. “You know, maybe you shouldn’t have both earbuds in when you’re here alone, you never know who might come in.”

“Yeah, it might be one of the asshole actors,” you bit back, finally managing to get your heart to stop racing. You turned back to grab your coffee, taking enough of a drink to burn your tongue a bit.

“I mean, you weren’t calling me an asshole this morning,” he teased, leaning in until he was just a breath away from kissing you. Despite your body yelling at you to accept his kiss, you put your hand to his chest to push him back a bit.

“Hey, what did we say about work?” You tried to remind him. Almost getting caught at work a couple times really made it so you had to set at least a couple boundaries.

“Aw, am I really not allowed to touch you, baby girl? You know no one’s gonna be here for a while, we have some time,” he tried convincing you, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. Even the seemingly innocent action had your heart racing yet again.

“Diggs, chill it,” you said, trying to ignore the slight whine in your tone. He was getting to you and he knew it, but he respected your words enough to step back, going to make his own coffee. “So, why are you here so early? I thought you were going back to sleep.”

“I couldn’t after that little wake up call you gave me,” he teased. You rolled your eyes even as you smiled into your cup. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“You guys are gonna run through Act 2, I think. I’m not gonna be too invested in that, though.”

“Aw, why not?”

“We’re getting a new stagehand and I’m gonna train them,” you explained. “I wanna make sure they’re ready to work by the show on Saturday.”

“I’m gonna miss seeing your pretty face trying to act like you’re not staring at me.”

“Bold of you to assume I stare at you when Oak is right there.”

“It’s not assuming since I know you scream my name and not Oak’s.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t scream his too,” you quickly took another drink to hide your satisfied smile. Daveed looked completely offended, exactly what you were going for with your little jab. If you hadn’t been at work, you knew he would do something about it, but he was just going to have to go about rehearsal dealing with it. You didn’t know if there would be repercussions later, but that was all part of the fun.

“You little…”

“Wow, Daveed actually woke up early today?” Leslie interrupted the two of you, already sounding like he’d been awake and ready to go for ages. You didn’t know how true that was, considering it was barely nine in the morning, but he was always ready to go.

“Dude, I’m capable of waking up early.”

“Really? You were dead before that one interview we had-”

“That was at six in the morning!”

“Get on my level, Diggs. I have to wake up that early every day except for show days,” you teased. “Normally Leslie and I get the chance to hang out before everyone else shows up, you’re kinda killing our routine.”

“You hurt me, (y/n). Here I was thinking I’d surprise you by showing up early, but apparently I’m just unwanted,” Daveed whined, finally taking his coffee so Leslie could make one if he wanted to. Leslie was quick to jump in, making himself a mug of tea for the morning.

“I’m glad you understand,” Leslie quipped. “(Y/n) and I have to stick to our routine.”

“I see how it is. I’m gonna go take a nap in my dressing room, come get me when people who aren’t mean get here.” Daveed was practically pouting as he left the two of you, cradling his coffee mug in his hands. As soon as he was out of sight - and earshot - you and Leslie couldn’t hold in your laughter anymore.

“He’s so easy to mess with,” Leslie said once he finally caught his breath. “So, the new stagehand starts today, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t know when they’re supposed to get here, but I’ll probably be training them for the rest of the week.”

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to set when the stagehands get here?”

“Well, yeah, but if people get here early or like a few minutes late then I’m not gonna hold it against them. Public transportation isn’t exactly reliable and traffic is a bitch,” you said, shrugging. “Kinda bummed Angel resigned, though. They were really reliable.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to whip this one into shape pretty fast, though. Don’t worry about rehearsal, I’ll handle it,” Leslie reassured you. If someone could keep an eye on everyone, then rehearsal was bound to go smoothly.

“You’re literally the best, you have no idea how much I appreciate you.” Leslie smiled brightly at your praise.

“You do a lot for us, I just wanna make things easier for you. So, are you and Diggs, you know?”

As amazing as Leslie was, he could also be a bit of a gossip. Not that he would ever share anything, he just liked knowing things. “Nah, you know we’re not like that,” you brushed him off.

“I mean, you could be. I share a dressing room with the guy. I know he likes you,” Leslie said. You had to admit, you were a bit intrigued by this. While you knew the both of you definitely had sexual chemistry - as if the frequent nights spent together weren’t enough to confirm as much - you figured that was where the line was drawn. I mean, you could definitely be physically attracted to someone without being romantically interested in them, and you were sure Daveed only really saw you as a friend. If he didn’t, he would’ve told you by now, right?

“What’re you talking about, Leslie? We’re just friends,” you insisted.

“Sure. So you don’t wanna know what he says about you?”

“And here I was thinking you weren’t a gossip.”

“I’m not usually, I’m just tired of you two dancing around each other.”

“Now you know Diggs can’t dance.”

“Oh haha very funny,” Leslie said deadpan, staring at you. You were trying to use humor to cover up your own curiosity. There was the chance Leslie was just thinking too much into things, being the romantic at heart that he is, and if you got your hopes up just to find out Diggs didn’t actually like you like that? Nope, it wasn’t worth it.

“Thank you, I try,” you said with a smile. “Now, tell me how Nicolette’s doing. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“You know, sometimes I think you like my wife more than you like me.”

“Of course I like your wife more than I like you.” Leslie held his hand to his chest in mock hurt. You smiled. Mornings with Leslie were always fun.

**********

Everyone else started trickling in within the next half hour or so. Diggs finally came out of his dressing room once Anthony and Oak got to the theatre, having some form of protection from your and Leslie’s “bullying”, as he put it. Once most of the cast got to the theatre, you began looking around for the new stagehand. Just as you were prepared to send them a text, you heard someone coming up behind you. You looked up, prepared to help whoever was coming up to you, when you realized you didn’t recognize this person.

“Uh, hi. Are you (y/n)?” He asked fidgeting with the strap of his messenger bag. Oh Lord, he’s kinda cute. That’s a problem.

“That would be me! Are you Michael?” He nodded, still looking around as though he was scanning the room. Of course he’d be nervous, it was his first day on a pretty major show. He was honestly adorable, and you couldn’t figure out if you wanted to protect him or pursue him. 

“Yeah, uh, sorry I’m a little late.”

“No worries, I know how traffic is. Just try not to be more than fifteen minutes late or I’ll actually have to note it down. Right, I’ll show you where your locker is and then I’ll give you a tour of the place before I start your training. You’ve worked as a stagehand before, right?”

“Yeah, but mainly for community theatre. This is like… really different for me,” he admitted, getting a little flustered. Instead of fiddling with his messenger bag, he went to adjust his glasses, making you melt just a little bit.

“It’s not so bad. C’mon, let’s go,” you nodded towards the locker area, smiling at him. 

Daveed watched you from across the room, wondering who you were talking to. He’d never seen the guy around before, and now you were walking off with him. He turned his attention back to the group he was sitting with. “Hey, Leslie. Who’s that guy (y/n)’s talking to?”

“Oh, I guess her new stagehand showed up,” Leslie commented, following Daveed’s gaze. “They’re gonna be working pretty close while she trains him.”

“Shit, really? Why can’t someone else train him?”

“Hey, Diggs, why do you care so much?” Anthony decided to jump in, seeing a prime opportunity for teasing. “I thought you said y’all were just friends.”

“We are! I just don’t like the idea of her being alone with that guy.”

“You sure you don’t like her? Kinda sounds like you’re jealous,” Oak commented.

“Man, shut up. When are we starting?” Diggs asked, trying to change the subject. He looked around, trying to see if he could spot you from where he was, but you were gone. Shit.

**********

Training the new guy ended up taking a lot more of your time than you expected. He was quick to pick up on the little tech stuff from his previous jobs, but you still had to prime him for working with your crew and the cast. Michael stuck close to your side, asking you about little things to make sure he’d be ready for Saturday’s show. Even when he didn’t have to be there - during breaks and lunch - he still hung out with you, just chatting about anything. You had to admit, you really liked his company. He was a good kid.

Being so busy meant you didn’t really get to hang out with Daveed as much, the only real time you got with him was when he insisted on walking you back to your apartment. There were a couple times when you were walking that Daveed took your hand in his, making your heart race. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for him to do, but with Leslie’s teasing at the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but read more into it. Then again, this was Daveed: your best friend that you happened to sleep with multiple times a week. 

When the two of you got to your building, Daveed would kiss you on the front steps, that little fire and hunger burning in the movements of his lips against yours. Your body and mind buzzed, overwhelmed with the sensation of him, but your exhaustion would nag at the back of your mind, making you break the kiss far too soon for either of your liking. 

“Can I come in?” Daveed would ask, desire evident in the way he looked down at you.

“I’m sorry, I’m just too tired tonight,” you’d apologize even as you wanted to lead him up to your apartment, to your bed. Even though you could tell he was a little disappointed, he nodded, respecting your decision. With a promise to text you when he got back to his place - and the unspoken promise to call until you both fell asleep - Daveed would call a Lyft to take him away for the night.

As you laid in bed, listening to Daveed’s voice over your phone speaker tell you random stories and whatever just popped into his head, you couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would be if you could actually do this. If you could actually fall asleep to him next to you, his arms wrapped around you, maybe pressing a kiss to your head when he thought you were asleep. Sure, when the two of you fucked, he would stay the night and hold you in his arms, talking to you as you drifted off to sleep, but you knew it wasn’t the same. Even though the two of you were friends, you couldn’t imagine you having a right to that if you didn’t provide benefits for the night. So you would settle for the phone calls and the calls of your domestic fantasies.

By the time Saturday rolled around, you were kind of excited. You’d get to sleep in since you didn’t need to be at the theatre until noon, Michael was going to have his first run without you hovering over him like an overprotective mom, and you were finally going to have the chance to spend some time with Daveed after the show. You had to admit, you were looking forward to that last one the most. Not sleeping with him for almost a full week and having that post-show adrenaline? It was going to be fun.

Once you got to the theatre, you were energized. You’d gotten more sleep than you usually did, you decided to splurge a bit on a drink from the overpriced coffee shop down the street, you actually had breakfast for once, things were looking like they were going to be good. As soon as you walked in, Daveed quickly attached himself to your side before Michael had the chance to. This, of course, led to teasing from the others.

“Dude’s acting like he was going through withdrawals,” Anthony joked when he was sure you and Daveed could hear him. He was talking his shit and he wanted you to know it.

“Don’t act like you’re not like this with Jazzy,” you quipped back. As sweet as Anthony (normally) was, he was whipped for Jazzy and everyone knew it.

“Yeah, but she’s my girlfriend. You tryna say something about you and Diggs?” Anthony shot back. Fuck, he had you there.

“Sorry you don’t have any friends so you can’t relate,” Daveed saved you. Anthony glared at him.

“Then what’re all you guys?”

“Coworkers,” you said, completely deadpan. Anthony’s glare turned into a look of hurt. You almost felt bad for him.

“You know what? I don’t like getting bullied like this.”

“Then don’t start shit you can’t finish, Ramos,” you told him. As much of a sweetheart he could be, he was definitely a little shit too. You were beginning to notice that was a bit of a common theme with the people you worked with.

When you and Diggs were in his dressing room later before the show - you putting his mic on for the show - he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm. You weren’t used to him being touchy like this, so your immediate response was to gently shove his face with your hand and tell him to stop it while you laughed. He smiled at you, letting you do your job.

“So, you gonna come over tonight after the show?” Daveed asked.

“I dunno, am I?”

“C’mon, it’s been a while. I know I’m not the only one that’s a mess, baby girl.” Heat rushed through you at the pet name, one normally reserved for just the bedroom or when he was trying to rile you up. And he was really succeeding at that second thing. Before you could answer, though, there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

“Hey, uh, (y/n)?” Michael asked, peeking his head in the room. He brightened up when he saw you were in there, though you had no doubt he’d been asking around to find you. “Can I ask you a quick question before show starts?”

“Yeah, sure thing! Just let me finish up with Diggs’ mic and I’ll be out,” you said. Michael smiled brightly before excusing himself, closing the door again. You looked down at Daveed to find him glaring at the door.

“Yeah, you’re definitely coming to mine tonight.” You just tilted your head in confusion, but Daveed only waved you off. You shrugged, finishing your job. You’d have time to ask him after the show.

**********

The show went by a lot faster than you expected it to. Then again, when you were running around backstage, making sure everyone was ready and in places and didn’t have any costume or tech mishaps, you didn’t have a real concept of time. In the brief break you had during intermission, Michael found himself at your side, gushing about how cool the entire thing was. You watched him with a fond smile, glad things were going well during his first official show. You could feel someone looking at you, though, and looked up to find Daveed watching you, obviously not paying attention to whatever Leslie was telling him.

You kept it at the back of your mind as Act 2 started, getting back to your job. There would be time to question him about everything later. Act 2 flew past just as quickly as Act 1, and you watched in the wings as everyone took their bows. Daveed spotted you, giving you a bright smile. As soon as curtains closed, Daveed rushed up to you.

“Just let me get changed and then we’ll head out,” he told you. You could see him almost lean in, but he stopped himself at the last second, opting to ruffle your hair instead before booking it to his dressing room.

“Asshole!” you called out after him even as you laughed. You went to grab your backpack from your locker, not really having a way to kill time after the show. You could always talk to some of your coworkers, but you were sure they just wanted to head home as soon as possible too. You leaned against the wall, just messing around on your phone, when you heard someone walk up to you.

“Hey, (y/n)! I think the show went great!” Michael said as soon as you looked up.

“Yeah, it really did! I heard good things about you today, but how’d your first day go?” You asked, pushing yourself up from the wall. Michael immediately jumped into telling you about everything, really giving off puppy energy. You didn’t know how long you were talking to him, but you could tell he was dancing around something.

“You know, I really appreciate you taking the time to train me yourself. I’m sure I wouldn’t’ve done half as good if you didn’t. Uh, do you think I could like take you out for drinks or something as thanks if you’re not doing anything right now?” Michael finally said.

“Sorry, she has plans,” Daveed said, seemingly coming out of nowhere to put his arm around your shoulders. You jumped slightly at the sudden contact.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, she’s gonna get fucked until she can’t walk tomorrow.” This immediately drew a gasp of his name from you, but he ignored it and continued. “She’s mine, so you might wanna think again about asking her out.”

Before Michael could even think of saying anything else, Daveed practically dragged you out of the theatre. You struggled to keep up with him, cursing his long legs as you tried to figure out what the hell was going on. A Lyft was already waiting for the two of you outside, and he opened the door for you to get in. The ride was quiet, tension heavy in the air between the two of you, and you could tell the driver was a little uncomfortable even though they had no idea what was going on. As soon as you were in Daveed’s apartment, you turned to him.

“What the hell was that?! You really just said that to the new guy?! What the fuck is your problem?” You demanded as he closed the door behind him.

“He obviously has a crush on you, I needed to make sure he knew where he stood,” Daveed said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Even if he does have a crush on me - which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t - you don’t have the right to do that shit! We’re literally just fucking, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” You inhaled sharply as Daveed took a step into your space.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Daveed asked, looking down at you. You tried to straighten up to your full height, but the height difference was still enough to make you feel small.

“Get what?” You tried to keep the venom in your tone even as your heart raced.

“It’s not just fucking. It’s hanging out with you even when we don’t do anything. It’s doing anything to make you smile, even if it’s because you’re bullying me. It’s being nervous to hold your hand but never wanting to let go. It’s wanting to just hold you when we’re in bed, not wanting to let you get up in the morning. I’m so fucking in love with you, and I have been for months now,” Daveed said, cupping your face. “I don’t want you with anyone else. You’re mine.”

“Wait, what?” You didn’t know how to process everything he just told you. You needed a second for it to register, and just as Daveed was about to speak again, you cut him off, pulling him down for a kiss. You didn’t know how to explain it, but this one was different from all the other times you’d kissed him, even from the first one. When you pulled back, you smiled at him. “You’re so sappy.”

“What, did you need time to load?” Daveed teased.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t exactly expect to get a confession from the guy I’ve been silently pining over for way too long now,” you admitted, pulling him back down for another kiss. You almost got upset with the little smile you could feel against your lips, but there were more pressing matters at hand. You broke the kiss again, pleased at the way he seemed to chase your lips. “Now, uh, what was it you told Michael? I was gonna get fucked until I can’t walk tomorrow?”

You could immediately see the change in him, a wicked smile growing on his lips. “You wanna play that game, baby girl?”

You nodded, biting your lip as the air around you seemed to change. The tension from before was back, but instead of the unbearable silence that plagued you on the ride back to his place, it was laced with anticipation. Daveed pulled you back in, one hand on the nape of your neck to hold you to him. His other hand started roaming, tracing lightly along your side before settling on your hip. When he was sure you wouldn’t break the kiss, he brought his other hand down. He bent down slightly, hands moving to your thighs. He pulled back for a breath before giving you a simple demand. “Jump.”

You did as he said, jumping just enough for him to wrap your legs around his waist. He started walking to his bedroom, distracting you with kisses and nips to your neck. The first night you guys spent together, you’d set up some ground rules to not get caught, the first one being absolutely no marks that couldn’t be hidden. That rule seemed to go out the window now that there was nothing to hide. A small whimper escaped you at the mark he was sucking high on your neck, not used to the sensation there.

His distraction worked; before you knew it, he was placing you on the edge of his bed. As soon as his hands were free from carrying you, they went to the front of your shirt, unbuttoning it with practiced ease. His lips followed his hands, kissing down your front. He ended up kneeled between your legs, letting your shirt fall open and frame your figure. “Talk to me, baby girl. What’s the safe word?”

“Red, and yellow if I need a second,” you recited. Just the fact that Daveed made sure to do the check in meant you were in for it, and you couldn’t be more excited.

“Good girl.” You barely had a second to process his words before he pressed up to kiss you, pushing your shirt off of your shoulders. Your bra was quick to follow, and once your top was exposed, Daveed pushed you to lay on your back. He planted his arm beside your head, caging you in as he lowered his body to yours. The kiss would break for a second just to let you get more air before he reclaimed your lips, and as much as you loved kissing Daveed, you needed more. You knew this was all part of his teasing, and as much as you were normally a brat, you needed him.

“Please,” you whimpered out, rolling your hips against his. You could feel his arousal so close to where you needed him, separated only by a few layers of clothes. 

“Please what, baby?” You couldn’t see his smirk, but you knew it was there.

“Touch me.”

“I’m already touching you, isn’t this enough? If you’re gonna be greedy, you gotta tell me what you want.” Against his words, he started trailing his free hand down the side of your face, down your neck, down, down, down, stopping right at your waistband. He pressed his lips to your neck, letting you feel his smile. “What do you want, baby girl?”

“Daveed, fuck, please. I want you to fuck me,” you said, trying to grind into him again. His hand at your waistband held down your hips, not letting you have any room for movement. He sat back on his knees, looking down at you.

“There you go, baby. All you had to do was ask.” He undid your pants, the sound of the zipper seeming to echo in the room as he slowly pulled it down. You wanted to complain about him still teasing, but you knew you wouldn’t get what you wanted if you did. He pulled your pants down and off, you lifting your hips to help ease the way. You reached down to remove your panties, just wanting the job to be done already, but Daveed gently smacked your hands away. “No. I wanna take a bit to look at you, all gorgeous and needy.”

“Stop teasing,” you whined.

“Normally you’re such a brat. What happened?” Daveed asked, still teasing. His hand toyed at the hem of your panties, the slight touch enough to make you shiver.

“I thought you like when I listen to you,” you shot back, finally moving to sit up. You liked his little games, but you were starting to get tired of it. You needed him to touch you, actually touch you, and if he kept going like this, it was going to take forever. Before he could say whatever smart ass remark he was going to, you pulled him by his shirt into a deep kiss. You broke the kiss for a second, starting to tug off his shirt. It didn’t take more than a second for him to realize what you wanted, quickly taking it off. You went back to work, not wanting to give up the slight bit of control you had gained.

You moved your kisses down his neck, wanting to leave some marks of your own. As your hand trailed down to palm his erection through his sweats, he grabbed the back of your hair, forcing you to look at him. His pupils were lust blown, he was panting slightly, and he looked like he was seconds away from losing it. You had the feeling you didn’t look much better. “Nuh uh, baby. Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“It’s gonna be me if you don’t hurry up,” you challenged. You inhaled sharply when the hand in your hair tightened its hold, but you kept your eyes locked with his.

“There’s the brat I love,” he said with a small huff of amusement, trying not to smile. He moved you back to lay down, finally touching you where you needed him, even if it was still over your panties. “You know how I know you like these little games? You always get so fucking wet for me.”

Daveed pressed one more kiss to your lips before settling between your thighs, pulling your panties off and tossing them somewhere to the side. You leaned back on your elbows, wanting to watch his next moves. He kissed your inner thigh, making your breath hitch as the simple touch lit up your nerves. You could tell he was leaving more marks as he kissed and nipped on the soft skin, not even really registering his hand moving between your legs until you jolted at the slight pressure on your clit.

Daveed moved his attention to your other thigh, repeating the motions as his thumb lazily rubbed over your clit. Your thighs tried to close on their own, only to be met by a sharp bite. Breathy whines and moans escaped your lips, your head rolling back as Daveed took his time. As much as you were expecting him to take you rough and make you beg until you were crying, this slow build up was an entirely different kind of torture. When his fingers finally teased between your folds, guiding the way for his tongue, you couldn’t help your high whine of please. 

He took mercy on you, his tongue teasing your entrance before settling on tracing patterns over your clit. While his mouth worked on your clit, he eased two fingers into you, your arousal making it easy for him. Your hips bucked at the slight burn, but the way he dragged his fingertips along your walls quickly replaced the feeling. Daveed knew exactly how to take you apart, watching your reactions for the slightest changes. Just as your thighs started to quiver, the pool of arousal in you getting to just this side of too much, Daveed pulled away.

“You fucking-”

“Watch what you’re gonna say to me, baby girl. You’re already on thin fucking ice,” he warned, getting up to take off his sweats. Even though you knew he wouldn’t be gone for long, you missed his touch on you. Not that you were gonna let him know that.

“You asshole, I was almost there.” You bit your lip, barely hiding the gasp that threatened to escape you at the smack he gave to your thigh. The skin stung, but the prickling of pleasure was always enough to overwhelm it. 

“I know, sweetheart.” He gave you a wicked smile as he took his place between your thighs again, resting his length against where you needed him. You didn’t even realize you whimpered at the feeling until his thumb started rubbing circles into your thigh. “Aw, someone’s needy. I only want you cumming around me when I say you can, understand?”

You nodded, but Daveed just shook his head, the little pout on his lips mocking you. “Nuh uh, baby girl. Use your words and then I can fuck you the way you want, okay?”

“Yes, I understand,” you finally said, voice smaller than you would’ve liked. You rolled your hips up, trying to feel more of him. Daveed’s hand tightened on your thigh, hard enough that you were sure you were going to have finger-shaped bruises there in the morning. “Now can you please just hurry up and-”

You cut yourself off with a whine as Daveed ran the tip through your folds, collecting your wetness before teasing the head over your entrance. His little self-satisfied smile as he slowly pushed into you was annoying, but you had better things to focus on. He pulled you closer to him, thumb rubbing circles on your thigh yet again as he rolled his hips a few times. As much as he talked about ruining you, you could always tell there was a slight hesitation before he really got into it. You loved his concern, but he did have a promise to keep. His thrusts were still slow and controlled, so you decided to give him some motivation. 

“I know you can go harder than that. You know, I bet Michael would-” This time you were cut off by Daveed’s hand on your throat. You looked up, a small smile gracing your lips at finally getting what you wanted, only to falter a bit at the hard look Daveed was giving you.

“Michael wouldn’t do shit,” Daveed said, finally thrusting into you harder. You knew you shouldn’t be as smug about it as you were, but you were thriving. This was what you’d been waiting for. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands fisted in the blanket. Just as you were starting to get comfortable, enjoying the ride, Daveed forced your leg over his shoulder, driving his length deeper into you. “He wouldn’t know how to fuck you like I do. Even if you went to him, you’d be thinking of me. You and this pussy belong. To. Me.”

Daveed punctuated each word with a rough thrust of his hips, making you see stars. You were babbling at this point, whines and moans mixing with your pleas for more. Daveed’s hand rested on your throat, not quite choking you but acting as a reminder to watch yourself. He was treating you with the roughness you craved, and you could feel yourself getting closer as he went on. You didn’t know if you were the one that moved or it was him, but he hit that spot. That spot that had your vision edging with white, that had you yelling out as you came hard, not even bothering to ask permission. Instead of letting you ride it through like he normally did, Daveed pulled out of you, dropping your leg from his shoulder. 

“Wha- why’d you stop?!” You cried out even as Daveed flipped you over to your stomach. He pulled your hips up, arching your back for him before laying a hard smack on your ass.

“Did you ask?” Daveed demanded, smacking the same spot.

“What?”

“What, you get fucked a little and forget your manners?” It finally clicked for you, a little embarrassed that Daveed had to point it out like that. Normally, you’d be apologetic, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care at the moment. You just wanted Daveed to keep fucking you, you could deal with the consequences later. You tried rolling your hips back to his, but his hands kept a tight hold on your hips.

“I’m sorry,” you whined, still not meaning it. “Please.”

Daveed huffed out a little laugh, but when you tried turning your head to look at him, his hand fisted in your hair, pushing your head down into the pillows. You would have complained, but the feeling of him sliding back into you cleared your mind of anything other than him. He was quick to go back to his fast pace, holding your head down to keep you in place. “Don’t know why I fucking asked for an apology, I know you don’t mean it. You just want me to fucking ruin you.”

You couldn’t do anything but whimper at his harsh tone, trying to fuck yourself back on him. But no, he controlled the pace, he controlled your pleasure. You were his. All you could do was take it, trying not to repeat your mistake from earlier. Time seemed to fade away as the sound is his hips against yours, your muffled moans and whines, his small grunts and praise filled the room. It wasn’t until Daveed finally let go of your hair to rub at your clit instead that you could tell he was getting close. His thrusts started getting sloppy and you could feel the build up inside of you yet again.

“Please, baby,” you whined, the two words already being a struggle. You’d hoped it would be enough, but of course it wasn’t.

“You gotta say it, baby girl,” he said, voice slightly strained from how close he was.

“Please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad, please baby please,” you kept going, only able to repeat please, baby until he finally took mercy on you. You were trying your hardest to be good, needing to be good for him, but you didn’t know how long you could keep this going.

“Fuck, such a good girl. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.” His permission was all you needed, your orgasm hitting you as soon as you had it. Your legs shook, nerves sensitive as Daveed chased his own release, making you cry out into the room. Daveed followed soon after, pushing deep in you as he called your name in a delicious groan.

The quiet that followed was new, your heavy breathing the only noise breaking the silence. Daveed stayed for a few seconds before slowly pulling out, making you whimper at the sensitivity. You let your hips fall, content to just stay there laying on your stomach, but Daveed had other ideas, rolling you onto your side so he could pull you into his arms.

“Hey,” he said in a near whisper, a little smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“Hey,” you said with a smile of your own. The moment was a bit cheesy, but it made you feel warm inside.

“So, how was that?”

“I mean, it was different.”

“Different good or?”

“Yeah, but just different. Like, knowing that you’re in love with me or whatever.”

“Don’t ‘or whatever’ that! Every time we’ve fucked before I’ve been in love with you,” Daveed seemed to add that last part as an afterthought. Thinking the conversation was done, you started to get up only to be pulled back to the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To go shower?” You looked at Daveed, tilting your head slightly. You were met by a hungry look, immediately sending a shiver through you.

“We’re not done yet, baby girl.”

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299