#If it was trying to be a concert why would it have big windows?

[need-a-new-reality]

Is that the ballroom from beauty and the beast??

[probablyasocialecologist]

And so it makes sense that these are now the places where fascism grows; that’s what these places were designed for. The suburbs were invented as a reactionary tool against the women’s liberation and civil rights movements. The US government, in concert with banks, landowners, and home builders, created a way to try and stop all that, by separating people into single homes, removing public spaces, and ensuring that every neighborhood was segregated via redlining. The suburbs would keep white women at home, and would keep white men at work to afford that home. These were explicit goals of the designers: “No man who owns his house and lot can be a Communist,” said the creator of Levittown, the model suburb. “He has too much to do.” The reason Target has become the locus of today’s particular right-wing backlash is the same reason countless viral TikToks attempt to convince women that they’re at risk of being kidnapped every time they’re in a parking lot. It’s the reason why true crime is one of the most popular podcast genres in America, and why many refuse to travel without a gun by their side and shoot people if they set foot on their driveway.

[...]

It is of course true that these mass hysterias are part of an organized right-wing movement that is attacking human rights across the country—through legislation banning abortion, gender-affirming care, and books, and making it illegal for educators to teach American history accurately. But the shape this movement has taken is not coincidental; it is in fact the product of the unique shape of public life in America, or lack thereof. Suburbanites do not have town squares in which to protest. They do not have streets to march down. Target has become the closest thing many have to a public forum. We often hear that urban areas are more liberal and suburban ones more conservative, and we’re often told that this is because of race. That may be partly true, though cities are whiter than ever and suburbs more diverse than ever. Instead, it may be that suburbanism itself, as an ideology, breeds reactionary thinking and turns Americans into people constantly scared of a Big Bad Other. The suburban doctrine dictates that public space be limited, and conflict-free where it exists; that private space serve only as a place of commodity exchange; that surveillance, hyper-individualism, and constant vigilance are good and normal and keep people safe. It is an ideology that extends beyond the suburbs; it infects everything. Even cities, as Sarah Schulman writes in The Gentrification of the Mind, have become places where people expect convenience and calmness over culture and community. What is a life of living in a surveilled and amenity-filled high-rise and ordering all your food and objects from the Internet to your door if not a suburban life? To make matters worse, the people who have adopted this mindset do not see it as an ideology, but as the normal and right state of the world; they, as Schulman writes, “look in the mirror and think it’s a window.” So when anything, even a gay T-shirt, disrupts their view, they become scared.

[garpond]

happy birthday to neil young here are some of my favorite things about him

-by the age of 20 he had owned 3 different used hearses, all of which experienced some form of extreme mechanical failure that caused him to have to get rid of them

-in buffalo springfield whenever he had to go out on a date with a girl he'd tell his friends about it beforehand so that they could interrupt the date to tell him he needed to be somewhere and was late so that he could be allowed to leave

-hated going in grocery stores because he would get overstimulated and have to leave

-didn't like how the first pressing of Comes A Time sounded so he bought 200,000 of the first copies of it and used them as shingles for a barn roof

-when one of his tour buses was destroyed (i forget how) he had it brought to his ranch and buried on the property like a beloved family pet

-his early ambition before music was to be a chicken farmer

-when he and carrie snodgress where dating she'd have a ton of people over sometimes and it gave him anxiety so one evening he decided to open the living room window and crawl out of it to get away from people instead of walking through the room to get to the door because apparently he couldn't wait that long and everyone saw it

-another time he randomly showed up at a neighbors' house and they didn't really know why he dropped in all of the sudden because he wasn't very social and it turns out it was because his manager had set up a meeting for him with the band America and he didn't want to do it so he was hiding

-during buffalo springfield he would hide in peoples closets a lot

-once he was guitar shopping with stephen stills and when he was offering on a guitar stephen offered more money on it to try and get it and it pissed him off so he started bidding higher to kick off a bidding war between then and once it was up to a ridiculous amount of money he just dropped it and was like ok you win lol ! and stephen had to pay an insane amount of money for it

-during one filmed interview with MTV or something he decided to fuck with them by adjusting the position of his hat super slightly every couple seconds so that when they cut the footage together and shifted things out of order it would look confusingly different every time

-during the recording of deja vu he lived by himself in a motel but he brought his 2 pet bush babies (named Harriet and Speedy) and they scared the shit out of Graham Nash

-gave a stranger he met like a week ago unrestricted access to his finances because the guy claimed he was going to help him buy a boat and the guy ended up stealing a couple thousand dollars

-during last buffalo springfield concert he was the only person who was not even remotely sad and on the way home jim messina was literally crying and neil was just like :] the whole way

-one year on his birthday at the ranch there was going to be a party and it was a tradition to have a bonfire at it so he went out into the woods to get sticks for it but somehow managed to grab a bunch of poison oak and it was used at the fire and after that he was not allowed to gather bonfire sticks anymore

-while filming the lincvolt documentary he met a trans woman and when he was interviewing her to ask for her opinion about the car she told him that what he was doing with it was a big change and he should probably ask for the car's permission to do it and he actually did do this later

-"everybodys rockin" originated as an r/maliciouscompliance type of project because while he was on geffen records Old Ways was rejected and the label asked for a "rock and roll album" and this was his response to that

-the infamous Eat A Peach incident

-there is much more but this is all i can come up with rn

[shadow4-1]

An Impromptu Punk Concert with Ghost

(What if you and Ghost managed to get into a punk concert last minute?)

"No."

"Why not?" You whined at Ghost from the passenger seat.

He chose silence, which you knew he knew annoyed you. You pushed at his arm, barely even jostling the limb splayed comfortably over the truck's center console.

"We've got a job to do." He mumbled, eyes ever diligently on the road.

"Yeah, I know! But it's on the way!" You huffed. "Please! I know they're your favorite band too!"

Ghost flexed his arm in a display of annoyance, and you flopped back into the passenger seat dejected. You sighed and looked out of the window at the passing landscape.

You were in the middle of nowhere, passing through little podunk towns without stopping. You'd forgotten that a certain band was touring and had gleefully squealed after cheking the map of your route. Your trip was already going to take two days minimum. What was a couple hour break?

"How're you plannin' on gettin' in?" He asked.

With pure delight, you shot up in your seat and squealed. If Ghost had really meant "no" he wouldn't have brought anything more up about it.

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" You giggled, leaning over the console and his arm. He eyed you with a sideways glance but made no effort to move. "I've always wanted to see them in concert! This is a once in a lifetime chance!"

Ghost scoffed, but his posture was still entirely relaxed. Try as he might to fool you. You knew he was equally as interested in the concert.

"Oh don't pretend like I don't know your little secret." You teased, letting your body flop back into the passenger seat.

He scoffed once again, but you noticed the slight raise of his brow.

"I've seen those raggedy old t-shirts you were to bed sometimes. They're band shirts."

There was a long beat of silence save for the hum of the truck. You narrowed your eyes at your lieutenant, a smirk forming on your lips.

"...yes..." He sighed.

"I knew it!" You giggled and kicked your legs slightly. "This is gonna be so much fun!"

Ghost's usual worried expression became visible in the set of his brow. For what, you weren't sure. He'd seemed relatively relaxed a second ago.

"What's wrong?" You hummed.

He didn't reply. You knew better than that. You frowned.

"Hey, if something's wrong..." You trailed off, showing your concern by placing a hand on his bicep. "We don't have to go. I just figured-"

"We'll go." Ghost nearly snapped. He'd seemed to realize his sudden change in demeanor and decided to walk it back by clearing his throat. His voice was smoother and gentler than before.

"We'll go. Pull up the address."

"Of course." You tapped his arm before pulling away. You flashed him a sweet smile just to let him know you weren't offended.

After a moment of fumbling with your phone, you pulled up the GPS instructions on how to get to the venue. It was actually a bar, but it didn't really matter. You read up on all the information (including the dress code). You giggled some more, knowing it would catch his attention. Sure enough, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey. It says here masks are allowed!" You grinned. "And with how big you are you'll blend right in!"

"Mm..." He hummed.

"Okay, well, the GPS says to take a right turn in about half a kilometer..."

-

The moment you got there, you were nearly kicking open the truck's door. It'd been hours since you'd last stretched your legs. Despite the very uneven gravel parking lot, you groaned in relief as you popped every joint in your body.

"You never answered my question." Ghost murmured, walking around to your side of the truck. He'd pulled up the hood of his jacket over his head.

"What question?" You groaned out, loving the way your back burned from a particularly good stretch.

"How're ya plannin' on gettin' in?" He asked.

You stopped stretching for a moment. You glanced up at him with a devilishly bright grin.

"Me?" You laughed. "Oh, girls get in for free. You've gotta figure out you're gonna get in."

Ghost narrowed his eyes at you. "Are you fockin' serious?"

"Mhm!"

You scrambled to get your phone out and unlocked. With a quick flash you showed him the rules of the event. Sure enough it was written out in black and white.

Girls get in for free!

A low growl formed in Ghost's throat. He glared down at you, but he didn't say anything. He looked upwards, breathed in deeply before exhaling slowly. He then looked back down at you.

"Fine." He huffed, turning around and walking towards the building.

"Hey! Wait up!"

It took you a short sprint to catch up with his long-legged stride. You fell in beside him. A warm, zing of excitement swirled around in your chest. The closer you got to the pair of black double doors the more the feeling grew.

Luckily, the line out front was short. They had two bouncers (who were not nearly as large as Ghost) checking the men's tickets. Women were easily bypassing the line, as long as they looked old enough. A woman just beyond the door was haphazardly checking their IDs.

"Here." Ghost grumbled, tugging his hoodie over his head. He threw the garment at you, blinding you for half a second.

When you managed to tug the jacket off of your face, your eyes widened at the uncharacteristic display. Ghost always had on a a jacket, or windbreaker, or long-sleeve. To see him in his soft balaclava, jeans, and a t-shirt felt wrong, too...casual.

You opened your mouth to say something but Ghost had already started walking towards the entrance at a decently fast pace. The appearance of a huge, masked man put everyone on edge. You were pretty sure one of the bouncers went a tad pale.

"Hey man, what are you doing?" The other bouncer asked, bless his heart.

Ghost gave him that look.

"Security." He barked.

And that was that. It seemed none of the bouncers were interested in telling Ghost anything. They simply went back to what they were doing.

You nearly gasped when you forgot you needed to follow him. Thankfully, Ghost'd provided enough of a distraction that you managed to come up behind him and sneak in by his side. You were getting in for free anyway, and it didn't matter if the lady hadn't checked your ID since you weren't going to drink.

The first thing you noticed was that the entire building was stuffy. The difference in the outside temperature versus the inside was intense. You wordlessly offered Ghost back his hoodie but he shook his head. It felt strange getting to see his shorn short blonde hair beneath the dingy lighting. He looked...almost like a different person.

So you didn't lose it, you tied his hoodie around your waist. You had to double knot it to keep the large amount of fabric from falling off your hips. Ghost watched you fuss through half-lidded eyes and made no attempt to help you. You scoffed up at him.

There was no way for him to hear you though. An opening band was already noisily playing on the stage at the back of the building. A decent amount of bodies were already crowded around the pink hued platform. They weren't a very good band in comparison to the lead act, but a few of the notes they hit piqued your interest.

For a moment you watched the stage from where you stood at the back of the venue. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Ghost nervously glancing around. His demeanor was off. You'd never visibly seen him uncomfortable like this.

"You alright?" You asked him, although the sound of your voice was drowned out. Ghost's attention snapped to you immediately but he narrowed his eyes.

"You alright?" You asked him again, voice lough enough to nearly strain. Still, he cocked his head. You huffed with slight frustration before stepping up closer to him. He bent his head down, angling his ear towards your mouth.

"You alright?" You tried even louder. This time he seemingly heard you. He gave you a nod, but you weren't convinced. His eyes were flicking from person to person that milled around the two of you.

"We can go?" You offered.

Ghost shook his head.

He then nudged you towards the bar. You didn't want to go but it was obvious that he needed a drink to withstand the stimulation of the place. You admired his commitment despite the fact he knew this outing would make him uncomfortable from the start.

He ordered two drinks. The bartender looked at you nervously, as if he wanted to card you but seemed to think better of it. Ghost lifted up his mask then swallowed down the first drink in one gulp. He half-heartedly offered you the second one, but when you refused, he downed it too.

You sighed at him but finally took a glance around the place. It was surprisingly nice for being out in the middle of nowhere. The bar went around nearly half of the entire atrium's perimeter. There were a few tables and chairs set up in the back for those wanting to rest their feet. But what really shocked you was the amount of men and women alike dressed in dark clothing.

Girls wore tall platform boots with buckles, latex, and black velvet. The guys wore harnesses and tight shirts with steel toed boots. Countless people donned masks of varying sizes and macabre shapes. The way they looked was eerie...yet beautiful.

You were so caught up in a pretty girl with huge wig and glitter for tears that you didn't realize the actual band was getting set up. Their crew fumbled around on stage, moving equipment and strumming the guitars to tune them. People began to crowd the stage, some squealing with excitement. You crawled up onto an empty barstool and sat in a way that gave you a decent view of the stage. Ghost just stood behind you, leaning up against the bar top.

The headlining band finally came out to a roar of excitement. Girls squealed, men whooped, and people whistled. A large group of guys stomped on the floor which, soon turned into nearly the whole building. The lead singer thanked the crowd for coming out before counting down. They started their first song.

You were so enraptured you almost didn't notice how close Ghost had gotten to you. You felt a warm presence against your back, and when you glanced up you were met with his flighty gaze. You noticed his hand tapping nervously on the bar top. You gestured at him to come closer. He angled his head down again for you to speak.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

He nodded.

"I wanna get closer." You pointed a thumb at the crowd.

He didn't move as his eyes swept across the sea of people.

The band started on their second single. It was one of their most popular songs but part of it was extremely loud and a bit grating. The fast paced drums and screaming guitar echoed hard throughout the venue. The main singer began to scream and you could feel yourself grit your teeth. You loved this band but the acoustics were just a little too good here.

It seemed Ghost was feeling a similar sentiment. He tried to covertly cover an ear with a palm but it didn't seem to help. You could tell something was going wrong. The guitars began to chug. The sound of it made Ghost wince hard.

You tapped on Ghost's shoulder to get his attention. He jumped a little but leaned down, angling his uncovered ear to you. You tugged on his arm, shaking your head.

"C'mon, let's go." You huffed. "You're not having fun."

Ghost shook his head no again but you knew better.

The song evened out into something smoother and less grating. Ghost's shoulders seemed to sag in relief.

"Seriously. Let's go."

"No." He shook his head once more, letting his hand fall away from his ear. "Just gotta get used to it."

"No you don't. Ghost let's-"

He pressed a finger to your lips as the best part of the song began. The lead singer burst into a sultry ballad that immediately grabbed your attention. You grabbed onto Ghost's hand, jerking it away from your face, squeezing his fingers tight in your palm. He shuffled closer, his head hanging next to yours as he listened intently with closed eyes.

The song soon ended with a roar of applause. This time Ghost didn't seem as uncomfortable with the volume. You placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ghost-"

"'M fine."

Another song started. You looked up at Ghost with concern. He looked away, trying to listen. The drums kicked in and the guitars soon after. The singer began to growl about his worship to his lover.

When you looked up at Ghost again he was staring down intensely at you. You quirked a brow but he didn't say anything. He tugged on your palm that was surprisingly still in his. You jumped off the barstool and began to follow him.

Instead of walking you to the doors he lead you deeper into the crowd of people. A fourth song began to be played. The song was softer than the rest. Once again it was about devotion but also the hunger the lead singer experienced for his lover. The guitars began to chug again. Ghost grimaced but he gestured for you to come closer. He moved your body to stand in front of him. He placed his hands squarely on your hips.

"Ghost-"

Before you could even process what he wanted, he scooped you up onto his shoulders. You gasped in shock as you were hoisted up on top of him. It took a moment of your body squirming to find your new center of balance but eventually you righted yourself. You huffed, finally getting a good look over the crowd of people. You got a view that no one else in the venue could ever get.

In stunning clarity you could see all of the band members. Their instruments glittered in the low lighting. The sight of the lead singer's mask and rings made you swallow hard. You gripped tight onto Ghost's shorn short hair. The music seemed to swell in time with your heartbeat. Obviously uncomfortable earlier, Ghost seemed to have relaxed some. You wondered why for a moment then realized how tight your thighs were clamped around the sides of his head...

The bastard was using you as ear muffs!

You almost slapped the top of Ghost's head but the last chorus of the latest song began. The lead singer growled and huffed, squirming his body in a way that had women in the crowd squealing. Just when you were thinking about how childish that was the lead singer seemed to notice you thanks to your extra height.

He shook his hand out in your direction, grasping at the air as he sang his words of devotion. He rocked back and forwards, eyes locked on yours. Some people took notice and gasped. Girls beneath you glared at you with envy. Men's eyes around you sparkled with mischief. Hoots and whistles added to the lead singer's hungry tone.

Just as you began to feel deeply uncomfortable from the attention, Ghost pulled you off of him. You squealed as you fell over a yard towards the sticky floor. He caught you mid air, cradling you. There were a few laughs and jeers thrown your way but the crowd turned back to the stage. Ghost let you down at the way. Your legs shook a little from the adrenaline and also having been pressed hard around his head.

Ghost seemed even more uncomfortable than earlier. He rubbed at his ears through his mask. He looked around at the crowd with a frustration you couldn't identify. You tugged on his hand, forcing him to lean down to listen.

"We're leaving."

He didn't shake his head or protest this time. Instead, he dutifully followed you to the double doors. You walked outside and the two of you were greeted with cooler, quieter air. The people straggling in gave the two of you odd looks as you walked past them hand in hand.

Ghost didn't let go of your hand until you got to the truck. He opened your door and helped you up. He then got into the driver's seat himself. He didn't move to turn on the vehicle though. The two of you just sat there in the quiet, ears still buzzing. While you couldn't hear the music anymore, you could still feel some of its vibrations even at the end of the parking lot.

"You okay?" You asked, this time at a normal volume. "Better now?"

Ghost nodded, leaning back against the headrest. He huffed out a breath it seemed he'd been holding for the longest time. His eyes rolled softly in his head. You felt kind of bad. You didn't realize that maybe a concert wasn't the best idea for him. You'd only been thinking about your own enjoyment.

"I'm sorry, ya know..." You sighed. "We shouldn't hav-"

"Not your fault." He breathed, cutting you off. With that he cocked his head, looking down at you through his mask. His eyes had that half-lidded look you were starting to get used to.

"Had fun, actually."

(A/N: I might make a second, spicier chapter. We'll see how I feel. But trust me when I say this has been in my WIPs for months! The band being alluded to is of course, Sleep Token. But you could honestly imagine any punk band in their place. Also, spot the Chappell Roan reference lol.)

[katuschka]

Scene One – Lampshade

Jake Kiszka x f!Reader (1st person narrative)

2.541 words

On my bedside table, I have a beautiful art deco lamp. When my lover leaves, he ties a scarf he wore for days on top. And when he’s gone I let my window open just a bit, the gentle breeze sets the scarf on motion, just like the waves in the tempestuous ocean.  Once or twice, I swear, I could smell him in my dreams.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: longing, alcohol consumption, penetrative sex, phone sex and masturbation, sex toys, phantasmagorical dream visions

Taglist

It’s been almost three weeks since I last saw him. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s not that bad, but the truth is that I always start missing him the moment he leaves. It’s a bittersweet feeling. I’m a grown, independent woman, engaging in my daily routines...or breaking them, just to stay sane. 

But, it feels as if a part of my soul got attached to him. It travels with him wherever he goes and I feel it tugging at my insides every now and then. At first I thought it was just a side effect of the early stages of falling in love. I believed that it would get easier with time, but it never did. If anything, it only got worse. 

It’s bearable during the day. My mind’s too preoccupied with my job, thank god. It’s not really much different from when he’s here. I still have my work to do and he’s busy too, until we finally meet at home to share a glass of wine or two. And then we fuck.

That’s why early evenings are the worst when he’s away. The house is just too big, too quiet, and my mind too restless. No sound of the strings being plucked greets me when I get home, no smell of savory dishes waiting for me in the oven or on the stove. I’m too lazy to do it myself, so I just order in, only to be reproached by him later that I’m not taking proper care of myself. My lover does all these things. My body’s spoiled with constant hugs and my cheeks peppered with warm kisses. So, on days like these, this is what his lady misses. 

He knows that, so he tries to call anytime he can. It’s easier in between shows. He makes sure to call me around eight, even when it’s already 3 am where he’s at. Him being a night owl, this has never been a problem. Sometimes it’s just a quick hello to make sure I’m ok. Other times we talk for hours. 

I didn’t expect anything like that today. He might call late or not at all. Probably not at all because today’s show was too important. He wanted me there, but I couldn’t go this time. I had an important project to finish and came home pleasantly exhausted. In a perfect world, we would celebrate our respective achievements together, but this world is not perfect, so I have to content myself with the fact that he is. 

Well, not really, but I wouldn’t change a thing about him. 

So, I just poured myself a glass of wine, climbed in bed early and tried to read, only to find myself checking the Instagram updates constantly. I don’t do it very often, because I’m not really keen on seeing hundreds of women swooning over him, but someone might be streaming the show, and I just couldn’t miss it. 

Before he left, he fastened his scarf on my lampshade. That little piece of fabric is basically marinated in his scent – his strong, yet religiously comforting cologne mixed with the warm smell of him. I made sure to leave both the bedroom door and the window open, to create a slight draft. After three weeks, the scent had already faded a bit, but I still could get whiffs of him while falling asleep. Just like today. The livestream I found ended mid-show, but I wasn’t really paying attention anymore. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy long before the concert ended and without even bothering to turn off the light, I fell asleep with my phone still in my hand. 

Except I couldn’t sleep. The thunderstorm in the distance and the billowing wind kept me awake. The sky was clear when I went to bed, so I couldn’t understand where the clouds came from. It didn’t matter anyway. 

He was here. In my bed, sleeping. The intoxicating scent of clove and incense mixed with his musk wrapped around me like a second comfort blanket. The bedside lamp illuminated his disheveled hair and the clothes he had carelessly thrown over the armchair next to the bed. He was naked and all of the sudden, so was I.

It was our bedroom…and it wasn’t. The southern wall was gone, exposing us to the elements outside. Our garden turned to a stony shore, with the waves of a rough sea crashing upon it. Somewhere in the distance, I could see the storm raging.

I was feeling snug under the blanket, the warmth he elicited sheltering me from everything else around. I reached out to touch him. His skin was warm and dry and I snuggled closer to him from behind, inhaling the comforting aroma of his relaxed, sleeping body. 

He never slept much. Sometimes I wondered how he could function after yet another sleepless night, and the dark circles under his eyes often worried me. But when he did fall asleep, he looked like a baby boy, his full lips slightly parted and his brows turned upwards. A man of paradoxes. He would fuck my brains out just moments after he spoon-fed me pistachio ice-cream. My doe-eyed barbarian. A romantic adventure, but a reptile too. Always offering something new. Just like the sky outside, with the full moon now illuminating the stormy sky. Where did it come from? It was hanging there in mid-air in front of the clouds, so big, so close it seemed that I could reach it with my fingers if I just stepped outside of the room. 

But I didn’t want to. Instead, I slowly swirled around him like a serpent. I could feel him stir, his body responding to mine. It was a silent dialogue. He turned to me and pushed my chin upwards to nuzzle the soft skin behind my left earlobe. I could hear him murmur a prayer, the words of which I didn’t recognize, but I understood it anyway. I could feel his hand travel slowly down my belly, pulling my thighs apart, his palm sliding gently to my pussy and his middle finger slipping in between my folds. It’s been too long… My body reacted immediately. I arched my back and gasped for air as his moistened fingertip glided over my clit in slow circles. He kissed my shoulder and I could feel his parted lips stretch in a smile before he nibbled lightly on my skin covered with goosebumps.

He spread my thighs even more, like the petals of a blooming flower. I felt the weight of his body on mine as he shifted, obscuring my view, silencing the wind, his porcelain face dimming all the celestial lights behind him. He was coming home. 

I cried out when he entered me, grabbing pillows on both sides of my head. He, too, yelped like a puppy, laying his head on my bosom just for a while, to gain his composure. I felt every exhale of his quickened breath on my skin, and enveloped his body with my limbs in a false promise to never let go. 

He started moving inside me and I felt absolutely lightheaded, as if we were floating in an empty void. It got darker with each deep, long thrust until time and space around us disappeared and the only thing that tethered me to reality was the rhythm of his beating heart and the alluring sounds of his raspy moans. We moved together languidly, drunk in love, and the waves of pleasure running through my body intensified with each passing second. My fingernails dug into his skin…so deep until he suddenly stiffened and screamed in pain right next to left ear…

…nooo…at first I couldn’t tell where I was or who I was until the sound of my phone ringing on the pillow next to my head slowly brought me back to reality. I couldn’t believe it. What? Why? I looked at the screen and saw the name of the only person whom I could forgive for calling me right fucking now!

“Jake? Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I breathed out. 

A moment of silence before the man on the other side responded. I must have sounded pre-t-t-y irritated. “Babe? Did I wake you up?” 

Of course you did. What day is it? Oh yeah, it was slowly coming back to me. Madison Square Garden… “What time is it?” I breathed out.

“Almost one am here, your midnight. We just arrived at the hotel a moment ago, I haven’t even had a shower yet, I just had to hear…”

“Urgh,” I interrupted him with a groan, not in a reaction to what he said. My still not fully awakened body was just fighting with my mind as I tried to sit. I was still slightly disoriented and my coochie weeped. “I, uhm, I’m sorry baby. I just had a very intense erotic dream…the first one in years. And you just happened to interrupt it at the worst possible moment.”

“Oh, daamn!” he chuckled. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Not funny Jake. No one else but you could ever make me this wet. The sheets below me are literally soaked through.” I heard him inhale sharply on the other side. It took him a few more seconds to respond. “You’re wet?” It sounded a bit like a stifled groan, followed by him clearing his throat. Poor Jake, he was so taken aback by my response that Oliver had to take over. “Thaths probably because I was absolu-te-ly on fire tonight, my love! Telepathy must be one of my many superior powers. Now I need to clean the mess…”

“What do you mean?”

“Phone sex, obviously.” 

I laughed. Nah, I’m not a fan. I love his voice, don’t get me wrong, but it couldn’t possibly make up for all the stuff that my subconsciousness flooded my brain with just a moment ago. Also, I’ve always found the idea of phone sex strangely disconcerting. We could do the most obscene stuff face to face without even batting an eye, but to be describing to him how I’m touching myself? No, thank you. I’d be embarrassed. Don’t know why. That’s just how it is, And that’s what I told him.  

“Oh come on, let’s try it.” Jake was back. “Besides, it’s a mutual obligation now. I’m already hard.” 

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. “Ok Jake,” I crooned monotonously, “what are you wearing?” 

“Oh GOD!” he moaned theatrically. “You sound so sexy when you’re bored. Mmmmm.”

I laughed again, in earnest. “Sorry,” I chuckled. “Ok, let’s try it. But I’m not going to describe what I’m doing. You tell me what to do.”

“Deal.”

I heard his sheets rustle as he shifted on his bed, which meant he already had me on speaker, so I did the same. I adjusted the pillows, stripped off my babydoll and tried to find a comfortable position. “Ok Jake, I’m ready.”

“Good girl. Now, close your eyes and cup your breasts. Let your thumbs draw slow circles around your nipples. No pressure.” His voice suddenly sounded huskier than before. 

“Are you jerking off?” And then I heard it. The unmistakable sound of his fist sliding rhythmically up and down his cock. Of course he was. 

“You can’t blame me sweetheart,” he breathed out. “I got here, still full of adrenaline from the show, only to hear you tell me that I was fucking you in your dreams. I couldn’t wait any longer.” 

The sound of his heavy breath made my pelvic muscles contract and my heartbeat quicken. I licked my fingertips and let my hand slide between my legs, trying to ease the ache. “Talk to me Jake. Forget the nipples. Guide my fingers.”

“Who’s impatient now?” He let out an involuntary moan, swallowed harshly and continued: “Squeeze your clit between two fingers, scissor-like. Now rub from side to side and gently pull.”

I knew what he meant. His technique was completely different from mine and effective in its own way. I never tried to recreate it before. I did now, and it all suddenly came back to me. The dream, his touch, his dick, stretching me, fucking me, our loins dancing together to the rhythm of our heartbeats…

“Not enough,” I whined. “I need more, Jake.”

“Ok, time for Mini Me.”

That was yet another thing my lover did for me. We found a company that makes custom dildos using castings of real customers. Now, a cold piece of silicone can never compete with the real jake, but it was the next best thing whenever I needed to release the tension after a long day. I loved the shape of it. It was mine. I opened the drawer and reached for the toy. “Now what?”

“Ride me,” he groaned. 

“How am I supp…”

“Let’s pretend we fell off the bed.”

“What?”

“Off the bed! Now!” he commanded. I climbed off the bed and attached the dildo to the wooden floor. “Mini Me’s ready. What now?”

“Now sit.”

I did as I was told. I got on my knees, placed the tip between my folds and slowly slid all the way down. Our roles reversed for a brief moment as I was now guiding him through. I heard him spit into his palm and groan with relief. It was his time to take the reins again. “Move,” he rasped. “Grab your hips and pretend it’s me. Set the pace, but tell me.”

I started moving my hips in a slow, sensual rhythm, while whispering up and down and up and down to him. I was now close to my bedside table, the fragrant scarf only a few feet from me. I closed my eyes. The illusion was almost perfect. 

“That’s my girl,” he moaned. “Do you want to go faster?”

“No, this is fine.”

“Ok, continue baby. Let me hear you.”

We continued like that for several minutes, eyes closed, listening to each other. I could hear that he was close as his low moans turned to high-pitched whimpers. My thighs started shaking and I had to catch hold of the bedside table to ease the tension in my legs. I opened my eyes and that’s when I saw it. The multi coloured lampshade. As I was moving, so were the colorful lights before my eyes. It was like being there, under the stage lights, as I was listening to my man. The most beautiful song. It overwhelmed my senses and I came, screaming. From the haze of my own high, I heard him finish shortly afterwards. 

I wanted to hear every detail of his show, and he wanted to know about my project, but we were both already too exhausted, so he promised to call me again in the morning. I knew he would, because that’s what my lover does. 

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @klarxtr @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @GVFstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise

[mo0dy-succubus]

The Vacation

Word count: 4k

Minqi x reader, g!p yuqi, g!p reader, switch!reader,dom!yuqi, Praising, Degrading, small bit of daddy kink, Squirting, creampie, facial, brief mention of sexual protection, mile high club, semi public sex, public sex, pool sex, bathroom sex,threesome, poly relationship, smut, (like alot of smut), hand job,wall sex, drunk sex, blow job

These past few months you have been overwhelmed by work. You have been away from your partners due to touring yall still kept in touch and you visited their concert, but the stress was getting to you and your partners. "Hey why don't we go on a vacation?" Minnie said. "Ha! Where would we even go?" You say looking at her with curiosity. "Thailand!" Minnie shouted excited. "Oohh yes Thailand is so pretty" yuqu said her English flawless.

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"Yuqi-ah hurry up, we are gonna miss our flight because of you" Minnie said ready to leave and be out the door. "Wait I'm trying to find a place to put gigi". "Just hold her till we get to the airport!" You shouted already tired from waking up early. You and your partners minnie and yuqi planned out a trip to Thailand and to meet Minnie's family, knowing minnie is from Thailand she was very anxious on missing her flight. "Ok, let's go!" Yuqi said finally coming down stairs. "Haha took you long enough" you say grabbing your two suitcases and heading out. Despite yuqi being late and taking her sweet time yall caught your flight just in time.

You board the plane and take your seat by the window happy that you can see all of the beautiful land scape. You put your headphones on and rest your head on the neck pillow you had hoping to catch up on the sleep you missed. "Y/n unnie" yuqi whispers. Knowing yuqi very well you knew she would bother you and well enough you ended up sitting together for a 6 hour flight so you were thankful for your headphones, with minnie being only a few more rows up front from the both of you. "Y/n unnie!" She says as she removed your headphones. "What....What!! Yuqi I'm trying to relax" you say a little bit irritated from your lack of sleep. "We should fuck minnie unnie". "Yuqi-ah I'm not in the mood, if you are horny go to the bathroom and jerk off of something" you say putting your headphones on again closing your eyes . "First off" yuqi says removing your music making device again. "Why not. And second, bold of you to assume something so desperate like that when you are here beside me, don't you want to join the mile high club?" yuqi looks at you her big doe eyes.

You groan a bit exhausted. "I'll wait and pretend I'm using the bathroom but I'll leave the door unlocked" she said winking before getting up to go to "the bathroom". Despite being so tired she was just so tempting. You waited a minute or two before going after her preparing yourself. Next thing you know you are being fucked in a tiny bathroom. "Quickies are such my favorite activity" yuqi said grunting, your moans muffled by yuqis mouth. "Fuck baby~ you are so tight" yuqi says thrusting into your tight ass. "Yuqi please I need more!" You say your cock twitching in need."We are gonna fuck so hard while cause turbulence"Yuqi grabs your aching cock before stroking it."fuck~! Ahh yess" you moan out from pleasure overwhelming you."Look at this little slut, imagine if minnie just walked in on us right now what will she think,that you are a desperate whore that can go a few hours without a dick in their ass" yuqi said her words burned hot against your ear. You felt your orgasm slowly build soon reaching its peak. "Cum...I need to..." a mess of word falling out if your mouth. "That's it baby let that cock cum all over daddy's hand" yuqi says her words pushing you more and more to the edge. A gentle squeeze on your cock and you are already orgasming cumming all over your girlfriends hand.

"Oh my god..." you gasp out. Yuqi continues thrusting in your bit before grabbing a tissue and pulling out and spilling her seed all over it to minimize mess. You pouted a bit visibly upset for yuqi pulling out of you. "Aww don't worry baby soon in Thailand. If you agree to fuck minnie with me" she says. "Why do you want to fuck minne so bad. We are on vacation not on an episode of sex and the city." You say. "Ohhh but it can be.Come on you know minnie is gonna be stressed since she's back at home abd we are meeting her parents soooo why not?" You thought about it and it was quit convincing so you agreed. "Fine I'll do it, can we just get out of this bathroom now before anyone gets suspicious".You leave first then yuqi only a few minutes after continuing your flight.

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When you finally land night fell. Yall arrived late at your staying, being do exhausted yall crashed as soon as yall hit the bed.the next morning minnie wasted no time before showing you and yuqi her favorite places by the way to the resort. By time yall arrived back to the hotel suites it was already 4 pm. You flop on the bed tired from walking. "There is a night club only a few miles away we should go!" Minnie said. "Oh really when is it?" Yuqi says curious as soon as she heard the word club. "Late at night kinda we can go to dinner and then go there there is a really fancy Thai restaurant that I go to often with my parents, speaking of them that's exactly the people we are meeting tonight"  minnie says. Sure you've met Minnie's family and sure they were kind but It's like minne planned out to have a blast back in Thailand, she wouldn't stop talking about all the club invites and yacht parties. A "don't stop till ya drop" type party.

You groan at the thought of walking anymore. "Minnie, baby I love your family and I can't  wait to have dinner with them but If I take another step I might die can we please just nap,we've been walking non stop we literally JUST landed late at night " you ask desperate for rest. " I am pretty tired so we can sleep together, just, let me make a reservation for tonight's dinner and call my parentsabout the time" minnie says taking her phone and calling the place.

Yuqi flopped beside you with almost the same amount of exhaustion as you have on your own face. "I'm beat....don't have to tell me twice about resting" yuqi says cuddling yourself into her, you and yuqi both stay up a bit waiting for minnie to come to bed with yall. Minnie soon eventually came to bed showing a signs that everything worked out so far and slept with yall.

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By time yall all woke up it was 6:25 pm yall all rush to your suitcases picking out your best outfits and showered before going to dinner. All three of you arrived just in time to meet minnie mom and dad, they seemed so happy to have their little nicha back. Yall all greeted each other exchanging compliments and catching up on time.Dinner with Minnie's parents was great but it was a hard dinner so far.Minnie looked so hot in such a simple dress, that said dress showed off her attractive curves you could feel yourself growing in your pants. To avoid your sinful thoughts you tried to focus on dinner and chatting with minnie parents and having a good time but minnie cleavage was showing just right, and sitting near her drove you insane more and more by the second. You must have not been as sneaky as you thought because she caught you red handed.

She seemed to play along before snaking her hand down to your cock before rubbing it through your clothing. You bump your knee on the table out of reflex from the sudden touch. The shake causing the food dishes to make a loud cling. " y/n?? Are you ok" Minnie's mom asked concern for your possible bruised knee. "I'm fine Mrs yontarak! Dont worry" you say smiling to show that you are ok. "Oh I'm sure she's more then fine don't worry I'll take care of her" minnie says her eyes darkening and sultriness in her voice. Minnie mom smiled back before going back to eating dinner and chatting. You feel the zipper of you pants being slow let down before feeling minnie pull it out leaving you exposed underneath the table (God you hoped nobody would look underneath the table if they dropped their utensils) . You feel minnies hand move up and down your shaft coaxing out a soft moan from you but quite enough only for her to hear. You look at her with tears eyes from embarrassment. You knew she has to make me movement slow in order to not get caught. Minnie took her thumb rubbing it over your head scooping the beads of precum that formed on your tip before licking it off her thumb. Minnie continued stroking your cock going faster each time nobody was looking. God you were going insane, holding back your moans was such a stressful experience. Genuinely surprised nobody could hear the fapping noise from underneath the table. You were sweating hard underneath your shirt blushing profusely. "Y/n are you running a fever? your face is super red" minnie mom asked. You tried your best to form word that would turn into moans "I'm f-ine just hot and thirsty t-hat's all" you lift up your wine glass to make a  cheers with her mom taking a sip only to almost spill it when minnie gives a small squeeze on your cock. Her actions continued feeling you twitch more in her hand speeding up till you finally came screaming into the thick dinner napkin. Hot strings of cum shooting out onto the underside of the table painting stripes of white on Minnie's hand as well as the table cloth(thank god for that table cloth) "sorry I had to clear my throat" you say as an excuse for you moaning into a napkin. Minnie soon moved her hand from underneath the table and wiped your mess on her own napkin before getting up. "Y/n can you come to the bathroom with me? I need help with my dress" Minne said, too dazed from your orgasm, you nod and follow her knowing damn well her dress was fine.

Minnie drags you into the bathroom as yall share a sloppy kiss. "I saw how you were looking at me, you a such a dirty slut that you can't stop looking at me for even a second" minnie gasps as she unbuttoned your clothes. "Please I need your cock" minnie begged. You wasted no time thrusting into her. "Fucckk you are so tight and wet" you moan out. Minnie looks at you with pleading eyes. " you don't want the others to be worried huh? So I suggest that you be fast" minnie whispered. This little sentence drove you crazy. Thrusting your thick cock into minnie you grab her by the ass holding her against the wall. God anytime you were in minnie it felt like heaven, her wet warm pussy molded to your body everything, like she was made for you.

"Minnie...fuck...." the weight of minnie and having to stand was wearing you out thin and you needed to rest. "I- I...need to sit down....for a bit...." not wanting to pull out just yet you make your way the toilet seat and sit down. Not the cleanest decision ever in your life but it's better them nothing and much better then yesterday in an airplane bathroom. You let minnie take control and begin to let her ride you. With your hand free you pull down Minnie's top exposing her breast. You wasted no time leaving dark marks on her skin, bitting deep into her skin and soft tits. "Y/n fuckk~ not to many I still have to see my parents...". You ignore her request and begin kissing up her neck till you get to her soft lips. "God but this feels so good~ I'll deal with them later I guess.." she says in defeat. Minnie continued to ride you speeding up till she was going at an inhumane pace. "Minnie....s‐slow....slow down a bit.." you try to form a sentence without busting inside of your girlfriends cunt but in was impossible almost, the way how her pussy squeezed you just right drove you more to continue fucking her. "Min-minnie!!!" You yell out shrieking as you grab her hips before plunging yourself deeper into her warm sex before cumming right into her.

"Y/n NO!!" before minnie could say no you had already burst. Just as soon as you finished yuqi walked in. "Guys we are waiting for-" yuqi looks at the two of you and your act before smirking. "Really guy's without me the betrayal, hurry up so we can leave, we still have a club to go to, yall can bone each other there" yuqi says before leaving. Minnie gets up spiling a bit of your cum out as she got up. "Are you gonna be ok?" You ask. "It's fine, I like creampies anyway" minnie says winking before coming close to your ear and whispering. "I'm going to milk you so hard this vacation your cock will go numb" she backs up fixing her dress and leaving, you follow soon after cleaning yourself up a bit.

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Despite your absence from the end of dinner dinner with Minnie's parents was great. You and your girlfriends get to the club and yuqi immediately order shots for her and yall. "Wowww that's strong" you say your face cringing at the tequila shot. You turn to see minie and yuqi going at it with shots. No matter the alcohol, they just drank and drank. It wasn't any better when their favorite song played the dragged you along on the dance floor and dance but you had to admit the alcohol was getting to you also. The music was blaring but all you could focus on was the way how your girlfriend was grinding against you and yuqi both. "Oookkk yall are super drunk we need to go back to the hotel before you get sick" you say still somewhat sober or more sober then them at least. You turn around just to see the making out sloppily. "Y/n unnieeeee...I'm so fucking horny right now, you know alcohol makes me super horny" yuqi said leaning against you. " We can fuck when we get to the hotel yuqi let's go" minnie said with pure lust in her eyes " I'm so horny I feel like my ovary is going to pop" minnie said as yall exited the club.

By time yall got back it was 1:30 am. It was like as soon as you stepped in your room the air felt like it was thickened with lust. You and yuqi wasted not time attacking Minnie's body. Tearing off each other clothes like animals. Minnie let's out a soft moan as she feels yuqis warm body against hers. " lay back" yuqi whispers to minnie leaving her body to the both of yall. Yuqi slowly dips in-between Minnie's legs breathing against her bare skin. You take this time to softly caress and grope her softy tits. Minnie let's out a sharp moan feeling yuqi lick her wet folds. Yuqi pulled. "Let's both fuck her till she's only moaning our name like a brainwashed slut she is" yuqi said encouraging you a bit. "I wanted her ass first then we can switch" you say giving your cock a few strokes. "Fine by me" minnie says already drenched in arousal.Going one.Two. Three rounds. Good it was so hot the passion filling the room and bonds built stronger. Resting late in the night you all pass out.

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You squirm a bit in your shared bed waking up to stretch. You noticed the two sleeping next to you then noticed your lack of clothes. You hurried and scrambled out of bed to find a pair of new clothing. Yuqi wakes up soon after you and follows the same thing you did leaving minnie still asleep. Yuqi kisses minnie till she woke and dressed decently before ordering food for breakfast to fuel up for another day in Thailand. You all mostly spent the day shopping for clothing and souvenirs, and occasionally yuqi teasing you throughout the day. " I should by a new bikini I forgot to pack mine plus it is our last day in Thailand so why not I really wanted to go swim at the pool late at night". "Ooh we should do that, I'm going to miss this place so much" yuqi said beaming a bit. "Me too, I see why minnie loves it here the food is amazing" you say in response. "Ohh can we get lunch first before we swim I'm starving for some Thai food right now". Minnie laughs at your cuteness before yall tour around some more to grab a bite.

Finally yall were able to go to the pool, changing outfits you were racing yuqi to get in first(it was a tie). Splashing and diving underneath the water. "Ugh this is so nice" yuqi says. "I wonder what's been taking minnie so long" yuqi says looking around. "Maybe she's resting a bit since we just ate". "Oh please everyone knows that's just a myth, nobody is going to get stomach cramps from swimming after you eat" yuqi said with confidence. "How about I give you a cramp you slapsh her with water causing another play fight". "Did I miss something haha yall look ridiculous" minnie said. You and yuqi both stop what yall were doing and stared at minnie in her black bikini, it was simple yet so elegant and sexy . "Yall know it's not nice to stare" minnie says slowly stepping into the pool. "We're sorry it's just-". "Woww" yuqi says finishing your sentence. "Do you remember our plan" yuqi said whispering in your ear. "Yuqi-ah was last night not enough" you groan in protest. "Nope never, Pleaseee,". "Fine only for this week and that's it". "Yayy!".

"Minnie unnie" you say swimming to her "I forgot to put sunscreen on can you help me before it's too late" such a lame excuse but it was better than nothing. "Uh sure I should put some on too while I'm at it" yall both exit the pool and sit down on the ledge. You waited patiently for minnie to finish getting your back before you do her back. You put the cool substance on the palm of your hand before rubbing it in on her back trying to not let her top get in the way. "O-oh is my top in the way, here let me untie it so you can get it more easily" before you could say anything minnie untied her black bikini top covering her exposed chest. "Minnie unnie why are you covering your pretty tits~" you say whispering. "Nobody is here why be so cautious, unless you are scared of someone seeing how much of a slut you are for me and yuqi". Your words send a chill down Minnie's spine, she hesitantly lowered her arms leaving her chest exposed enough for you to sneak your hand to her chest and squeeze it. Minnie let out a soft moan as you continued your movement, you signaled for yuqi to come over and help. Yuqi swam in front of minnie before kissing her you soon tugged at minnie bottoms before she lifted them up allowing yuqi to slip them off. Yuqi then pulls minnie back into the water pinning her against the pool wall kissing her deeply.

You watch as you try to take your clothes off before joining them in the pool." Y/n aren't you gonna use protection first" yuqi teased indicating an unexpected pregnancy. "Whha why are you like this don't ruin the mood" you say blushing in embarrassment from her comment. Yuqi giggles before wasting not even a second before pushing her thick length into minnie causing her to moan out. You step out o the pool above minnie give you cock a few good strokes. "Please put your cock in my mouth I need you" Minnie pleaded. You grin at her desperation but rubbed your tip against her bottom lip. Minnie opens he mouth before Swallowing your cock whole. She wasted no time suckling on your sensitive tip. "Minnie fuck~..." you moan out.

Yuqi continues thrusting into her as best she could going faster each time. The pleasure from yuqi sent moan after moan from her mouth down to the base of your cock causing you to pulsate in her mouth. "Fuck Yuqi-ah don't stop I'm so close" minnie say taking your out her mouth before going right back to sucking you off. " I might be close to if you continue like this minnie" you say your eyebrows knitted with pleasure. Minnie began to massage your soft sac with her hands while looking at you attentively. You couldn't hold back you grabbed the back of her head and pushed down cumming all in her mouth. Minnie swallowed the hot seed in her mouth before smiling at you a bit. Yuqi pulled out forcing minnie and yuqi to be on the ledge of the pool. "Pool sex I so uncomfortable let's go by the pool stairs for more support" yuqi said. Minnie was now facing yuqi with her legs wrapped around her torso as yuqi continued to pound her. Minnie being close from earlier it didn't take her long before trapping yuqi at all angled and spraying all over her lap. "Shit that felt so good" minnie sighed out. It was now your turn to fuck minnie. You took the place of yuqi putting her in a more doggy style position with yuqi being sucked off by minnie this time. You began to slowly thrust, god her pussy was so hot and warm. You continue thrusting through her tight walls giving hard thrust in-between to give yuqi some more pleasure. "I'm close guys.." yuqi grunts a bit. "Wait I want both of yall to cum on my face" minnie says. You and yuqi look at each other then nod. You exit minnie and hover over her again jerking off to get to your peak. "We are gonna paint your face all white when we are done with you" you say hoping to amp the mood a bit. "Fuck yes please use me as your cum dump" minnie says sending you and yuqi into a frenzy. "I'm close on the count of three we cum" you say going faster focusing on yuqis movement.  Yuqi nods and begins counting down with you. "1". As minnie watched she opened her mouth for the fat load she was about to receive. "2". A bead of sweat ran down your temple ad you felt the building pleasure. "1!" . You and yuqi let your orgasm go all onto minnies face, on her eyelid, her tongue, even in her hair. Thick white stripes painted minnie like a pastry.

Your breath get heavy as you finished stumbling a bit. "Holy shit that was hot...." yuqi said blushing this was such a "good vacation I wish it didn't have to end". "Me too" you pouted at yuqi. "Do you think we made a mess?" You asked. " Haha probably this pool is probably going to need some extra chlorine." Yuqi said. "Yeah, can we go back to the hotel so we can clean up a bit,we need to leave early tomorrow for our flight"  minnie said trying to clear her eye. "Can't we just stay one more day?" Yuqi said. "We can always come back to Thailand Yuqi-ah". "Yeahh but it's so fun". "Next time Yuqi-ah" you smiled softly."Next time, but for now I'm ready to go back to korea" yuqi said laughing as yall headed back to the hotel room

[skelesunderthetale]

How about what they would do on a date? Like activities and stuff like that

What they would like to do with you

Characters: Blue, Dream, Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Goth

💞

Underswap (Blue) Blue would love to share his passion for sports and exercise with you! Going on a walk, at the gym, at the beach to play some volleyball and then cool off by getting in the water… Not only are they good habits, but also they are some things that he likes and wants you to enjoy just as much. If you aren’t used to sporty activities, if you had bad experiences, it’s okay! If you are willing to try stuff out, he’ll be empathetic of your experiences and make sure to be attentive and guiding. If you aren’t ready and prefer to stay in, he’s also fine with watching action movies, comedies, or even cheesy romance with you. At least he can cuddle with his favorite person meanwhile! Dreamtale (Dream) Dream doesn’t have much time on his hands, it’s obvious. When he has enough time, and when he can actually put all his attention on you, he likes to either stay inside your home to fully relax together, do some puzzles, cross stitch, read, or even watch documentaries. He only likes TV when it makes people learn things, good luck making him watch reality shows (he’s old). If you actually want him to take you out, he’d propose a nice dinner somewhere calm and cozy, or go on a walk in a special garden place. Dreamtale (Nightmare) Nightmare being himself, he hates going out during the day, or at least when it’s sickeningly sunny and pretty. He likes foggy weather, when it’s dark, and when you can look up and see the clouds almost hiding the moon. Speaking of the moon, that’s probably one of the calmest activities you can do with him: star gazing. If you are sleeping, he would bother waking you up so you guys can watch the sky together through the big window of your bedroom. Honorable mention to: reading! He’s an old soul (if he still really has one?) and can give you easily any definition you need if you have a hard time reading some of the classics he has in his bookshelves (you saw one that dated from… like… 1798…)

Something New (Killer) Killer loves cats. His hobby is to bring a new cat everytime he comes back from a mission at this point… So to cope with his lack of time that he can spend with you, he simply makes you take care of them with him. Feed them, make sure they are okay, pet them and play with them until they are all sleeping from exhaustion. If you are allergic… Well, he’ll have to think really hard to think about something else to do with you… Actually, he has a very enjoyable sport in mind :) He’s kidding! Unless…

Dusttale (Dust) Dust is a homebody, it takes him an enormous amount of willpower to actually get out of bed each morning to do whatever jobs he needs to finish before sunset. He loves you though, and his brother wants him to do what he can to make you happy. Thank his hallucinations, because they are probably the reason why you didn’t die during your first encounter… If you want to chill at home, well good for him! I mean… you guys! He’s not really doing anything though, he’s kind of just watching you do things. Will it be drawing, dancing, singing, watching a show or video, he’s silently watching. No judgment behind those eyes though, so don’t feel silly or embarassed. If you want to go out, well he just hopes it’s not somewhere like a festival or anything.

Goth (JessyDS comic version) Goth is funny to be around, and like his name can lead to think… he’s goth, and metal, and likes anything that sounds a bit louder than usual. He’s edgy, and it shows. If he was rich, he’d buy you guys tickets to every concert of bands he likes that isn’t a 10 hour drive away. And merch! IT’S EXPENSIVE. The number of times you saw him beg his dad for 10$ then beg his other dad for 100$ (Reaper understands his passion a bit more than Geno does…) When you go to a concert, it’s loud, people stink, the lights blind you, but it’s fine: at least you can feel his wings brushing your back. --- Author note : Im not a poser, and also comments are very welcome! Requests too! I love interacting with the community

[daisynik7]

The Takada-Chan Mall Concert

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~2.1k

cw: explicit language, suggestive dialogue, switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd)

Summary: Your first ever Takada-Chan concert doesn't go as planned.

Author's Notes: Hello everybody, here's the first chapter! Just a few background details - Todo is 22, already graduated from Kyoto Jujutsu High, and is working as a full-fledged Jujutsu Sorcerer. Reader is also 22, graduated from university, taking the summer off before starting work in the fall. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Masterlist | Next Chapter

The day has finally arrived: Your very first Takada-Chan concert! You’ve been dreaming of this ever since you started following the pop idol a few years ago, during the start of university. Although some would consider you a relatively new fan, your love and dedication to the Tall Idol is unmatched, you’re sure of it. You know her favorite food (goatfish), her favorite drink (room temperature sake), her favorite color (black), her blood type (AB negative)…The list goes on and on. 

It’s the summer before you officially start your big girl job in the fall. College has kicked your ass the past 4 years, so you treat yourself with a well-deserved summer break. Now, you have the next three months to attend every possible Takada event near you, starting with this concert. She’s hosting a very exclusive performance at the mall in her hometown, which is conveniently only 15 minutes away from you. Tickets sold out online within minutes, but you managed to snag two for you and your best friend, Sara, who only agreed to go with you to keep you company. She understands that these types of events can be…well, as she puts it bluntly:

“A sausage-fest.”

She stares at you with her arms crossed as you pack your bag with binoculars and a mini sign with Takada’s face on it. “Ugh, binoculars? Really? The concert is in a mall, you’ll see her just fine!”

“You never know! I just want to be prepared.”

“I still don’t get why you’re so obsessed with this woman,” Sara says, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like you’re in love with her or anything.”

You smile at your friend. “I know, but she’s just so cool. I love her confidence! And her music is so catchy, even you can’t deny that.”

She rolls her eyes again, chuckling. “Yeah okay, her music is pretty good. But I don’t think you’re fully prepared for how much of a sausage-fest this is gonna be.”

“I don’t care. No man is getting in my way today. Us girls are going to stick together. Women supporting women!”

‘Yeah yeah, I’m still bringing my brass knuckles though.”

~~~

The day has finally arrived: Todo’s first Takada-Chan concert of the summer. He’s been to 9 concerts already, including the 4 he’s imagined in his head. There’s no doubt in his mind that it’s going to be the best one yet.

He bought an extra ticket for his bestie and brother, Yuji Itadori, who’s currently at the mall, saving a spot for him while he finishes getting ready. He inspects himself in the mirror, flexing his biceps smiling, very satisfied with his appearance. With one more quick armpit check, he heads out. At the mall, there’s already dozens of people surrounding the windows, trying to sneak a peek inside. “Ha, you dweebs didn’t get tickets in time,” Todo says smugly, waving his tickets in everyone’s face while he goes through the entrance.

The mall is packed with people waiting for the pop idol’s performance. He finds the area where the stage is and scans the crowd until he spots spiky pink hair near the front. “Brother!” he yells, making his way through the sea of people effortlessly, getting a few shouts of protest from some smaller randoms.

Yuji looks up from his phone, greeting him with a smile. “Hey Todo! Man, it’s packed! Didn’t think this many people liked Takada-Chan.”

“Brother, don’t say something so stupid like that again. Of course a lot of people like Takada-Chan.” He slaps Yuji’s back hard, causing the shorter boy to stumble forward slightly.

“Geez, okay, I get it! When is this thing supposed to start, anyways? I’m meeting Kugisaki to go shopping.”

Todo scrolls through his phone, checking Twitter. “Takada-Chan tweeted 20 minutes ago that she’s on her way. Look at her, so adorable.” He shows him his phone, playing a video of the idol doing her signature Taka-Tan Beam, gazing at it lovingly.

Yuji laughs. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go now before this thing gets too crazy. See ya!” He squeezes himself through the crowd as Todo continues to admire Takada’s video on repeat.

~~~

You walk back to the stage area, two corn dogs in hand, when your phone buzzes, displaying a text from Sara. We’ve got a problem.

Your heart sinks as you speed walk faster through the mall, simultaneously stress-eating the food in your grip. It’s only been 10 minutes since you offered to get food for you and Sara while waiting for the concert to begin. What kind of disastrous complication could have occurred in this miniscule amount of time?! 

You approach the concert area, the hoard bigger and louder compared to when you left. Sara is near the front of the stage, so you push your way in, stepping through until you hit a wall.

Wait, it’s not a wall.

It’s a person. A very tall and muscular man.

Ah, the problem.

He doesn’t even flinch when you run headfirst into his back, like he didn’t feel it. You rub your forehead, turn your head to face Sara on your left, smirking. “Looks like you literally ran into our problem.”

You’re furious. This guy is MASSIVE. He’s got a least a foot on you, height-wise. But he’s also ripped with muscles. You can’t see above him or around him. All you see is his back muscles. It doesn’t help that the entire audience is packed like sardines, so tight you can’t move to either side of him for a better view. "What happened?” you ask, panicked. “This guy wasn't here before.” You hand a corn dog to Sara, grimacing at the man before you.

"I guess the pink haired dude in front of us saved this guy's spot." She points the corn dog towards him, whispering, “Should I stick my brass knuckles in him? Maybe that will get him to move.”

Naturally, being afraid of confrontation and violence, you respond, "No, no. You’ll get in trouble for that. Let me just talk to him, I guess.”

Sara munches on her treat while you clear your throat, reaching up to poke his shoulder, with no response. You poke a little harder this time and still nothing.

“He’s like a fucking brick wall or something,” you mutter to Sara, who only giggles. With a closed fist, you pound on his back, as if knocking on a door, a very beefy, sturdy door. Finally, he cranes his neck to face you, eyebrows raised.

“Um, hello. Do you think you can move a little? You’re blocking our view.”

This guy doesn’t even have the audacity to turn his body around. He just peers over his shoulder, saying, “Nope,” facing forward again, completely disregarding you.

“So you’re just going to block our view the whole time?” you remark, annoyed. 

He scoffs, still not looking at you. “Not my problem.”

Who is this fucking jerk?!

From the corner of your eye, you notice Sara brandishing her brass knuckles, ready to pounce. You shield her with your arm, stopping her. “Don’t. Let’s just wait and see what happens when Takada-Chan comes out.” You feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Literally.

A few minutes pass and the crowd around you starts screaming in excitement. Takada-Chan must be walking on stage now, though you wouldn’t know because this guy’s back is taking up your entire view. The rest of the fans are so squished together that you’re practically nose-to-back with this guy. Luckily, he has no body odor; he actually smells quite nice.

“Can you see anything?” you ask Sara.

“Yeah, she’s on stage now. She’s just waving to the crowd as her mic gets set up.”

“What is she wearing?”

“A red and white baseball tee with flared jeans that has jewels on the side,” Sara answers.

You pout. “Ugh, she’s so cool! If only I could see her!”

“Let’s switch spots, c’mon.” Sara tries to move behind you as you shift to your left. Music plays and Takada-Chan starts singing her current smash hit “Love Gem”, which you are absolutely obsessed with. Now in a position to actually see your favorite idol, you retrieve the Takada sign out of your bag, ready to enjoy the concert. Before you can, the jerk in front of you begins swaying side-to-side in time with the music, singing loudly, and badly. Every time he swings to the left, your view gets obscured again. You shoot a look to Sara, who just laughs at your misfortune. 

You try your best to appreciate the rest of the performance, getting glimpses of the pop idol whenever the swaying moron moves out the way. When it’s over, Takada-Chan delivers her signature Taka-Tan Beam, resulting in shrieks of glee from the audience. The boulder in front of you yells, “I love you, Takada-Chan! It’s me, Aoi Todo! Your future husband!” He waves his arms back and forth, vying for her attention.

As you wait for the crowd to disperse, you shout to Sara, “As if Takada-Chan will ever marry an idiot like that.”

All of a sudden, he turns around to face you. He’s more massive and menacing from the front. The most noticeable feature about him is the huge scar running down the left side of his face. A tiny corner of your brain wonders what the story behind that is. “What did you call me?” he growls.

Shit. You didn’t think he could hear you. He’s a jerk anyways, so no need to be nice. “I called you an idiot, idiot,” you sneer, with the smuggest grin.

He glares at you. “I’ll have you know that I have an IQ of 530,000. You normies could never compare.” His voice is dripping with arrogance and cockiness, it makes your blood boil.

“Normies? You some kind of god or something?”

“Heh, you could call me god-like, I suppose,” he winks at you, smirking.

You roll your eyes, hard. “Charming. Well, I hope you had fun getting ignored by your 'future wife'. Thanks to you, I didn’t even get to see her since your ginormous body was blocking me the entire time!” You’re seething now. Sara stands beside you, wide eyed but enjoying the show. If there was popcorn, she would be stuffing her face with it right now.

“It’s not my fault you couldn’t save yourself a better spot. Maybe next time, plan better. If you are a true Takada fan, you would do whatever it takes. That’s why I’m the superior Takada-Chan fan.” Both his thumbs point towards himself, puffing out his chest.

“Please, you think you’re the superior fan? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I’ve known her since middle school, so yeah, I think that makes me the biggest fan!”

“I doubt that, you’re probably making this up!”

“I’m not! She rejected me in middle school, but I know she’ll come around in a few years once she retires! Then we’ll finally be together!”

This guy is truly delusional. “You think Takada-Chan will ever marry someone like you? Get real!”

You're both going at it like a tennis match, Sara's eyes darting back and forth between the two contenders.

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with Takada-Chan too? I will crush you if you get in my way!” he yells.

“I’m not in love with her, I admire her! I aspire to be her!”

“Ha, don’t make me laugh. You’ll never be like Takada-Chan, shorty.”

“I’m not talking about her looks; I’m talking about her personality!”

“Well, it doesn’t look like you have much going on there either!”

“Asshole!”

“Loser!”

“Okay you two, stop!” Sara intervenes, physically placing herself in between you and the ogre. “As much fun as it is to see you both go ballistic at each other, people are starting to stare. Now break it up.”

Your face is so hot, you feel steam coming out of your ears. What a fucking asshole.

He looks at Sara and tells her, “You better control your girl. She shouldn’t be messing with someone like me.”

“Oh, is that a threat? Come at me, I will fuck you up!” You’re ready to throw hands at this fucking prick until Sara restrains you, letting him walk away, chuckling.

“You have seriously got to calm down. Don’t let a dick like him get to you,” Sara says, still holding you back.

All you do is grunt at her. Who does this moron think he is to talk to people like that? As you make your way towards the exit of the mall, you hope with all your Takada filled heart that you never have to run into that guy ever again.

[rotworld]

25: Waking Nightmare

art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises

if you sleep, you'll dream. if you dream, you'll see him. if you see him, you will never be free.

->original work. explicit; contains non-con, graphic descriptions of violence, hard vore, terato, non-human genitalia, mind-altering magic.

.

.

.

You can feel him all the time now. Not just when you close your eyes.

But it’s fine. That’s normal. It’s just residual magic. You get the same sticky cobweb feeling when you work with infernal pigments or walk by a Fundamentals of Magical Writing class in the first few weeks when people are still knocking their Stygian ink bottles over. That’s just how it works. If you dunk your head in a pool, you’ll drip for a while. Nothing weird or worrying about it. It’ll go away on its own.

You stay out late a lot these days. Not for any real reason, honestly, you’re just busy. And why hole up in your dark, quiet, isolated apartment when you could hit the town instead? There’s no time like the present to start enjoying clubs, concerts and all the dazzling nightlife Obelos has to offer. Your final exhibition is coming up and you’ve been working hard on getting those pieces ready, of course, but you need a break. Anyone would. It’s fine that you’re at the bar until it closes. It’s fine.

“You look tired,” people have started to say. 

Well, obviously. It’s grad school! Everyone’s tired. Someone pass the tube of crepuscular blue. You stand up straighter in front of your easel. If you focus, your hand will stop shaking. You yawn and it spreads like a virus. See? you say. How are those gallery applications coming along? 

The goetia double-major brags that they’re going great, actually, thank you so much for asking. “I’m in contact with the director of Gallery Decadentia,” she says casually, savoring the jealous glares and chorus of seething “Woooow, congratulaaaaations.” She’s become almost tolerable since securing a Benefactor-Patron. A little less smugness and a lot less tainting the communal workshop paints with subtle poison and then acting shocked and heartbroken when a classmate is out for a week with the worst flu of their life. 

“Have any tips for snagging a Patron?” somebody asks. 

She shrugs. “Study goetia. Honestly, I don’t know how else people do it nowadays. You’re out of luck unless you get into one of those really big expos. It’s that or somnarium painting.” 

“Didn’t you do that for a while?” 

The room gets quiet and you glance up from the stormy swirls forming on your canvas. Oh. They’re asking you. And now they’re staring, because your eyes are bloodshot and you keep tapping one of your hands against your thigh in an irregular rhythm to keep yourself alert and awake. You shrug. “For a little bit, yeah. It was good practice, I guess.” 

You sound dismissive and they’re all nodding. “It’s so kitsch. I don’t get it.”

“Ugh, I had to do a bunch in Dream Augury a couple years ago. Huge waste of time.” 

“I think they’re great,” someone says, terse. “It depends how you do it. Some of the greatest masterpieces of the Renaissance were somnarium paintings.” 

“That’s completely different.” 

“Yeah, the term actually meant something back then. You didn’t just splash some watercolor on the closest surface first thing in the morning and say it came to you in a dream.”

“Expos are better anyway,” the double-major says. “You don’t want a mare for a patron.” 

“Really? Why?” 

She raises a brow. “What happened to all those great somnarium painters of the Renaissance?”

“They didn’t all go missing, though.”

“Sure,” she scoffs. “A few of them died in their sleep.” She watches you carefully for a while but you don’t care. You’re focused on your work. You have nothing to hide. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

You go out for a while. Enjoy the noise and lights, the lively ambience. You grab coffee. You window shop. You take the scenic route home. It’s well past midnight and you’re nodding while trying to find your keys in your pocket. You feel him. He’s there when your eyelids flutter. You jolt upright and shove your keys in the lock and it’s fine, all fine. You lock the door behind you. It’s dark. The lights don’t work right. You keep changing out the bulbs and they keep dying to a barely-there glow, weaker than little flickering candles.

Paper crumples under your shoe. That happens a lot. Kind of unavoidable when you’ve got sketches all over the floor and tables and chairs and stuffed in the drawers and pasted on the walls. Some are quick, frantic pencil scribbles, some ink, some hazy with watercolor, some sharp and acrylic. They’re of everything. Shapes. People. Plants. Animals. Corpses. Hungry castles. Seashell staircases and stained glass forests. And deer—lots of deer. Herds of deer, fractal deer, deer metamorphosis, deer saints. Close-ups of long lashes and bar pupils. Antlers that grasp.

You set an alarm for one hour from now. There are twelve more after that just in case. You might not even sleep. You might just lay down and rest your eyes for a second and—

You blink and there’s a house. A big one. A small one. It keeps changing. Cabin, cottage, courtyard full of butterflies. There’s a garden arch covered in clinging green tendrils and flowers that glow like the moon. Well, that’s alright, you tell yourself. It happens. Maybe you were just a little more tired than you thought. You set the alarms. You’ll be alright. 

You step through the arch and into a rustic foyer; stone floor, wooden walls. Candles flicker. The hallway forks in three directions, each dark path lit only by a breadcrumb trail of flickering candles. You start walking. It doesn’t matter where. Open doorways line the hall, each room beckoning your attention with the beauty of full-bloom gardens, tranquil beaches and palatial bedchambers. Some are already occupied. The people inside sigh, and weep, and scream.

Here you are again, in the somnarium.

“Are you lost, sweetie?” 

Someone peeks out of a room up ahead. A man. A mare, probably. He’s wearing a guise but there’s an unnatural, subtle luminescence around him, a soft haloing glow as though he’s standing in front of a light. He leans in the open doorway, an arm bent against the frame, head cocked and smile alluring. Light, silky robes hang from his body like a draped toga, the fabric translucent so you can see the subtle outline of his figure beneath. 

“I’m not lost,” you insist. “I’m just…”

“Why don’t you come here? There’s always room for one more.” You see movement behind him. Squirming. Writhing. Bodies entangled, arched backs and thrusting hips; a shared dream of pleasure. Three humans kiss and caress one another. The glint of eyes in the dark tells you another mare is watching. The one at the door tilts your chin, returning your attention to his face. “Mm. What a sweet, sweet scent. But you’re a little too lucid for my tastes.” He sighs, patting your cheek. “Run along now. I’m sure someone will be very happy to see you.”

You keep walking. The hall never seems to end, splitting into even more maze-like paths. There are spiral staircases and cellar doors, windows to other worlds. You keep moving because that’s better than standing still. You looked it up. Mares prefer ambush to pursuit, but that doesn’t mean they won’t go on the hunt if they want something badly enough. 

You see a nightmare of being lost in one room you pass. A man stumbles down a winding mountain path in hiking gear, shivering in the frigid wind. You just barely glimpse the mare—an elongated silhouette slinking through the trees. Across the hall, a woman dreams of a labyrinthine college campus and a classroom she can’t find and a mare follows closely behind her, nipping at her heels, hissing that she’s going to fail this class. 

Further on, a shared nightmare of being chased has ended and the mares feast on their quarry. Your stomach churns at the sight and sound of gushing blood and cracking bone, the squelch of disembowelment. The dreamers struggle but they’ve already lost. They are always weaker than the hunters in their dreams, always too slow to outrun them. Some are shocked awake immediately, vanishing from the somnarium and leaving pouting mares behind. 

But some linger, screaming for help and for mercy that’s never coming beneath their vicious attention. The mares wrench limbs from their sockets. They rip chunks of flesh from chests and thighs and lick the blood from their clawed fingers. They reach into the ragged, gaping wounds they make and shudder in delight at the fear their prey feels, the helplessness, the despair. Frenzied, their guises flicker and slip, revealing the wispy, protean strangeness beneath. They are ungulates—goats but not, caribou but wrong, spider-horses and centipede-deer. They move in ways they shouldn’t. Their bodies can’t decide how many legs to have and their faces are a constant shift of beauty and incomprehensible horror.

You see someone try to crawl away, shrieking in mindless terror when a mare pounces on their back. It stabs straight through their shoulder, staking them to the ground with a spear-like hoof. It rips at their clothes with its teeth and stomps their legs when they try to wriggle free, pummeling flesh and shattering bone. More legs—thin and spindly, sometimes hands, sometimes claws and pincers—emerge from its body to shove their head into the dirt and raise their hips. It makes itself a long, flat-headed cock already hard and drooling precum, grinding the grotesquely large organ against its prey’s backside. 

“Hello, pet.” 

You freeze when a hand seizes your shoulder and a warm, firm body presses against your back. Human, but only to the torso. You didn’t hear his hooves but you feel them now, knocking against your ankles. “Aelius,” you stammer. “I—”

“Do not speak.” He moves around you, his hand sliding from shoulder to the other as he circles around to stand between you and the doorway, his fingers hooking beneath your chin. He is calm and collected, unchanging in contrast to the constantly shifting nightmares gorging themselves behind him. You see a large deer-centaur, the lower body piebald with spots and patches of brown and white. Long white hair spills over one shoulder and down his back, the enormous antlers crowning his head tangled with climbing vines and pale blue flowers. Red eyes flick up and down, scrutinizing you. 

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Sounds of violence and lust—blood, hunger and ecstatic moans—emanate from the room behind him. When you start to squirm, he licks his lips.

“You have been avoiding me,” he says, low and dangerous. You start to insist that you weren’t, you’d never, you know better, and he squeezes your jaw. “Do. Not. Speak,” he hisses. “And do not ever lie to me again. Such impudence.” He drags you closer, his grip on your face forcing you onto your toes. He smirks in satisfaction at the small whimper you let out. “But that is part of your charm. Come.” 

He lets go of you and steps over the threshold, his form rippling as he enters the room. He stops to look back over his shoulder, his cold gaze warning you that his patience is short tonight. You follow reluctantly, entering the nightmare of devouring. He walks slowly and through the center of the carnage, forcing you to walk through unwound ropes of intestine and splayed, partially skeletonized limbs. You know where Aelius is going. You see the rutting mare ahead, back legs spread as it thrusts wildly into the captive, impaled body in front of it. You don’t want to get any closer but he looks back sharply when you stop moving. 

“Come here,” he growls. He’s appeased by your rush to obey but only slightly. He grabs your arm and drags you closer, forcing you to stand beside him. You’re right next to the other mare, so close that you could reach out and touch its flank. You can see the dreamer’s distend around its cock, abdomen bulging obscenely with every thrust. They shudder and moan weakly in pain, fingers tangled in the grass and dirt. Every time they start to sag and go limp, close to waking, the mare twists the dagger-like limb in their shoulder and makes them scream. 

Aelius grabs you by the hair when you turn away, yanking until your scalp is burning and you let out a wounded noise. 

“You may speak,” he says. “And you will tell me what drove you to such petty mischief. Do not look away.”

You inhale shakily. You do what he asks, even though the sights and sounds of the mare’s relentless thrusts make your stomach turn. “I…I want you to let me go.” 

He chuckles, his grip loosening. He massages your scalp instead as a reward for your obedience. “Let you go?” he purrs. “Whatever do you mean by that?” 

You swallow nervously. Is he going to try and deny it? Bored of the dreamer’s quiet resignation, the mare bends its front legs, the front of its body resting heavily on their back. Its thrusts slow to harder, deeper pounding, long pauses between movements leaving it fully hilted in the dreamer’s trembling body. You hear their breath turning to strained wheezes. 

“I don’t dream about anything else anymore,” you say. “I always come here.” 

“Such things aren’t unheard of. Many humans prefer my somnarium to aimless wandering, or the predations of other demons.” 

He’s going to make you say it. Why? Because it scares you? Because you know, deep down, what’s been happening all along but didn’t want to believe it? You take a deep breath. “I can feel you. Even when I’m awake. I can feel your magic on me.” 

The mare looks at you and your breath hitches. Its face is mostly human but there are flickers of other things, a fogginess to its features. It looks at you and in that moment it knows everything you want most and everything you’re afraid of. Its eyes narrow. It licks its lips. It keeps looking at you as it spills inside the dreamer, heavy balls pressed against their ass. A slow dribble of cum leaks from their abused entrance, dark blue and glittering like the night sky. 

“Oh? Is that so?” Aelius asks, stroking your arm. “And why might that be?” 

“Because…” 

The mare pauses for a moment. It’s not resting. It doesn’t need to because it’s not tired. It waits for the human to go completely limp, to exhale finally, to close their eyes and try desperately to will themselves awake. That’s when it starts to pull, dragging itself inch by inch out of their body, all the way to the tip and letting a gush of thick, frothing cum gush down their thighs. Then it slams back in, savoring their hoarse, rasping scream, and starts to fuck them again.

“Because you’re Entrancing me,” you whisper. 

You looked it up. It’s a slow, subtle thing, easy to miss until you’re in the throes of it. First, you’re tired. You want to sleep more often. Then sleep always brings you to the same somnarium, and your dreams always push you into the arms of the same mare. Then you feel it—intrusions in your mind. Whispers and suggestions, gentle nudges. Thoughts that feel like yours but aren’t. It takes a long time for a mare to get so far in your head that it starts to leak into your waking life, but once Entrancement has set in, it can take months or even years to fully break.

The more you see him and the more he feeds, the worse it’ll be. You already respond to his touch, unable to stop yourself from leaning into his hand stroking your cheek.

“The modern age is so vexing at times,” Aelius muses. “Once, you would have needed to consult an oracle or an experienced infernal scholar to even hear that word and understand what it entailed. It matters not. You are already mine. And is that not what you asked of me?” 

You wanted security. You wanted to stop worrying about your bills and tuition and the staggering cost of infernal pigments. You wanted to know you would be alright in the end, no matter what happened. “I asked if you would be my Patron,” you say.

He smiles and leans in, bending down to be closer to eye level with your thumb caught between his fingers. “And I said I would,” he murmurs. “Gladly I would, to ensure your brush is ever wet with the finest paints, so long as you paint for me. Of course I Entranced you. You belong to me.” 

You think he’s going to kiss you. You hold your breath, waiting for it. Hoping, despite everything. It frightens you to want him this much. But instead he chuckles and pulls away, straightening to his full height. 

“Now, this is the scene you will paint for me when you wake.” He gestures to the smirking mare who arches seductively as though posing for you, its hips still snapping against its captive prey. “Look carefully,” Aelius says, grasping your shoulders. He stands right behind you, pressing his toned chest against your back. “Pay close attention. The light. The color. The movement. You will be rewarded for your attention to detail. Perhaps, someday…” He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “Someday, I will ask you for a self-portrait in the same style.” 

Loud, shrill noise makes you gasp and bolt upright. You wake up in bed, in the dark. You grope for your phone on the bedside table, stomach sinking when you see you slept through four of your alarms. You can feel him, even now. You can feel the weight of his gaze and the ghostly caress of his hands. You don’t know what you’re going to do. Is there someone you can tell? Someone who can help you? You know someone in the Goetia Studies Department. Maybe she—

Your heart skips a beat. You sit up slowly, pulling your leg back from the hard surface it just bumped into. There, at the foot of your bed, is a canvas and a collection of brand new infernal paint.

[a1307s]

Take Me From You #3

(Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to Naijarski]

Requested by: ynight14  and RavenMoore7799

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 2,814

Warnings and/or Pre-notes:

Gets a little heated at the end

———————————————————————

     I can hear the blood beating against the veins in my ears, drowning out the sound of Y/N and Bruce yelling at each other. The scene is almost funny. A hysterical Batman screams at Y/N to not kill as Y/N yells at him for being a murderer. A poor drug dealer sitting between the two screaming adults, confusion and fear on his face. I can feel the laughter brewing in my throat from the scene in front of me.

     Even with the mask covering a good chunk of her face, Y/N is as beautiful as she was the last time I saw her. Though she's more filled out than she was when we were fifteen, that only makes her prettier and is expected. She's not going to look the same as she did four years ago. Honestly, she could be in a flour bag, and I would still think she's the most perfect person in the room.

     Despite the funny scene in front of me, my heart races. I haven't seen her in years. I didn't even know if she was still in Gotham, let alone still in contact with Bruce. Given, it doesn't seem like good or willing contact, but it's still contact.

     Y/N's hair bounces around as she yells, making my fingers ache with the want to run them through it. The want to touch her, hold her, and hear her voice is overwhelming. Well, hear her talk to me in a normal tone at least, but I'm happy to hear her in any way, even if she is yelling. At Bruce, of all people.

     "I'm done. I'm done with you, you're helpless!" Bruce yells, throwing his hands up as he parades himself in a little circle. Y/N must have been a big hell-raiser over the years to get a response like that. The bat grabs the drug dealer, dragging him away as he mumbles to himself.

     I watch as Y/N turns on her heels, tilting her head back and forth as she uses her hand as a puppet, mimicking Bruce's meltdown as she walks away. It's good to see that she still has her humor. Good to see that Bruce hasn't managed to get her killed yet either.

     I follow after her, staying hidden as she walks away. I should talk to her, tell her I'm back. Maybe she knows though. I mean Bruce and Dick know so I would assume Y/N and Alfred know too. Though, if Bruce and her are fighting like this all the time I wouldn't be surprised if Bruce 'forgot' to mention my revival. It's a petty move that would be right up his way.

     Y/N turns down an alley, so I wait a second, just in case. The sound of metal scratching concert fills the night. It's quickly replaced by soft clicks of boots against metal. I poke my head around the corner, watching as she climbs up the fire escape. I slide forward, grabbing a hold of the latter before it slides back into place.

     I don't know why I feel the need to stay hidden as I watch her slide open a window and crawl in. Well, I kind of know. I don't know if it's best for me to just pop back into her life. Maybe she has a boyfriend or a husband. Maybe she has a whole family. If she has settled in life, what gives me the right to tear that up?

     I know it's selfish of me to hope her life ended when I died. What kind of shitty person hopes that? Me. I hope for that. Given, I also hope she's had a fulfilling life since my passing, I just hope it wasn't with another man.

     As I climb up the fire exit, ideas of how to kill Y/N's imaginary boyfriend circle my head. Maybe Bruce is right, maybe I am crazy. I try my best to be silent as I follow Y/N's path. Once I'm on her floor level, I push myself against the brick wall, not wanting to startle her. Well, I'm doing it mostly to catch a breather and prepare for the worst.

     It takes a second, but once my courage is built up, I move, looking into her window, only to be met with a gun barrel in my face. "What the fuck Y/N?!" I yell, raising my hands in a sign of surrender. It would be pretty shitty to come back to life just for my girlfriend - ex-girlfriend? - to blow my head off.

     My eyes scan over her maskless face, taking in her bright eyes, her cheekbones, and her lips. God her lips. It might just be the horn-dog in me, but I've missed her kissing me the most. Well... I can think of other parts of her I missed more. Off-topic, very off-topic thoughts. My... Y/N is holding a gun to my face and my identity is still very much hidden in my helmet. I need to stay on topic.

     "Who the fuck are you?" She yells, her finger featherily light on the trigger. Her body shifts some, causing a small clinking sound.

     My eyes drop down to her neck, the direction the sound came from. Wrapped around her neck and resting on her chest is a black chain with two rings strung on it. One is a basic black ring, with a red band through it. Even from here, I can make out the words on it. Curved on the inner side of the band are the words 'Come home to me' with Y/N's name next to it.

     The other band is a copy of the first but with a small ruby held in the middle. 'Be safe for me' is curved into this one, my name next to the wording. It's the first thing I ever bought Y/N. I bought it when we were thirteen, the cheesy words curved into them being enough to back that up. It took three weeks of pickpocketing to afford, but it was worth every penny.

     "Who. The fuck. Are you?" Y/N repeats, empathizing her words more.

     "Um... Jason... Todd..."

     Y/N's face shifts to confusion and then anger. "Last time I checked, Jason Todd is buried in a box in the Gotham Graveyard. So, try again asshole."

     "Bruce buried me in the fucking public graveyard? Didn't even cross his mind to bury me in the Wayne Graveyard? What the fuck?" I say before I can stop myself.

     "What is going on?" Y/N murmurs, shaking her head some as her eyes widen. "Go... go away murderer," she says, pointing the gun down before slamming the window shut.

     Murderer? Like she wasn't just fighting with Bruce over her wanting to murder someone. I stand still, hands still in the air as I watch Y/N march around her apartment, panic-cleaning as she talks to herself. Her head keeps shifting around like she's trying to erase what just happened. Hopefully, this isn't how she would react if a different murderer appeared outside her window.

     Once my head is on straight again, I push the window open, the wood of it yelling in discomfort as it moves. Y/N keeps pacing around, muttering to herself about crazy people and leaving Gotham. I carefully crawl in, making sure not to knock into anything.

     I let myself rest against the windowsill, watching her pace around the small apartment. How has she lived this long if this is her response to a stalker? Maybe I caused her a mental breakdown.

     A small smile rests on my face as I tug off my helmet and set it on the side table placed next to the window. It's littered with loose change and bullets. Good to see she still has a careless air to her. I always found it cute when we were younger. It made me feel needed, knowing she wouldn't pay attention to the small details even if it would make her life easier. I liked doing those things for her, I like her needing me to do those small things, even if it's not things that need to be done.

     I snap my mask off as well, placing it next to my helmet. Y/N continues to mutter and pace, occasionally throwing a phrase or two at me as she works her thoughts out. I look around her space. There's not much of it, which I'm not surprised about. It is an apartment in Gotham after all. Her living space is filled with bookcases, all of them filled to the seams with books and movies. There's a big, overstuffed couch across from a pricey television, probably an apology gift from Bruce. He's good at replacing emotions with money, which is easy to do when you have enough for ten lifetimes.

     Y/N's kitchen is littered with recipe books, loose papers, random dishes, and spices all over the counters. Her fridge is littered with pictures and more papers. Her bathroom and bedroom doors are swung open, unsurprisingly. She sucks at closing doors.

     Just like Y/N's kitchen, her bathroom counters are littered with makeup. Her bedspread is a mess, but besides that, her room is pretty straight and tidy. Even the nightstand by her bed is item less besides a lone alarm clock. That's not usual for her, maybe Y/N does have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who doesn't mind taking care of the small details for her, just like I used to do.

     From here, I can see the edge of a small table, a deep green cloth drooping off of it, that's tucked into a corner of her room. I let my curiosity get the better of me and push myself off the windowsill, making sure to close it behind me or else it'll be left open for the next two to three weeks.

     I walk into the room, expecting a hidden mess, but there's none to be found. I let my gaze settle on the mystery table that's not so much a mystery anymore.

     In the middle of the table is a picture of me. Well, a picture of us. It's from our first date night at the manor. I'm stretched out on the couch, my head in Y/N's lap and her hands tangled in my hair as we both smile at the camera.

     On either side of the picture is a candle; A white one for peace and a pink one for love. Each is held in a gold candle holder. In front of the picture is a few things. One is a bowl of Skittles, my favorite candy. To the left is a small, blue, empty bowl, and to the right is a full, red bowl.

     In the full bowl is the jewelry I use to wear; my dog tags Bruce gave me, the pocket watch I got from Alfred, the matching Robin bracelet from Dick, and my family cross I got from my mother.

     "So... you are alive," Y/N says, pulling my attention from the altar to her, standing in the doorway. She keeps shifting her weight and her fingers tap against the wood. It would only be more obvious that she's nervous if the word was stamped onto her forehead.

     "So, you made me an altar," I tease, trying to help Y/N calm down and loosen up some.

     "Of course, I made you an altar, Jay. You're Hispanic, it's part of your culture. Just because Bruce won't respect it doesn't mean I won't," Her words come out hot and fast, like she's embarrassed that I saw her memorial of me.  "Dumb, stupid, ginger ass, Hispanic boy," she mumbles, walking into the room.

     "Not my fault a Hispanic woman fell in love with an Irish man," I shoot back, watching as she slides onto her bed, her eyes looking everywhere but me.

     "I know," she mutters, lying back on her bed. "So... you must have one hell of a story to tell me."

————————————

     Ever since my lap around the Lazarus pit, it's been weird waking up. Mostly because my body doesn't remember it's alive yet, and partly because my subconscious has the same feeling, which means it takes a second to remember to breathe in the morning.

     Just like every morning, it takes me a second to remember how to breathe along with taking some time to remember I'm not in a box in the ground. I can feel pressure on my chest. It isn't dirt, it's just my mind playing tricks on me. Just a PTSD attack. It'll clear up any second now.

     Except, it doesn't clear up. I debate on whether I should open my eyes or not. Sometimes opening my eyes makes the attack worse. I don't want to take that chance. There's nothing on my chest, I'm fine. I repeat the thought as I slide my head over my chest. Instead of coming in contact with myself, my fingers slide into a bundle of hair. Well, that's not dirt but the sure as shit is something or someone on top of me.

     I slowly open my eyes, being met with the sight of Y/N curled up on top of me. I can feel the smile crossing my face as I look down at her. She looks so peaceful, fast asleep, softy breathing as she clings to me. I've missed these peaceful moments with Y/N. Most days memories like these were the only thing keeping me going.

     I shift a bit, peaking at the alarm clock on her nightstand; Five sixteen. I didn't plan on spending the night, but there was a lot to talk about, and a lot of time to make up for. Most of the time was spent with me explaining everything from the past four years, my death, the Lazarus pit, my service in the League of Assassins, my reappearance in Gotham, and the newly forming hatred between Bruce and me.

     I guess we ended up falling asleep on accident, especially since my boots are still on. That, and Y/N is still in her spandex suit.

     I shift again, flexing my arm and fingers to try and shake the static feeling out of the arm Y/N's head is on. Despite my efforts to not wake her, Y/N stirs, shifting around on top of me. She whines a bit, her body scooting down my body as she moves. It feels nice having her weight on me, feeling her body heat crashing into me. "Good morning," I whisper, rubbing my hand through her hair.

     "Good morning," She whispers back, pressing a sloppy kiss into my chest. It's sweet, but I wish my shirt was off, I wish I could feel her lips against my bare skin. "You're alive," she adds, sleep still very evident in her voice.

     "I'm alive," I repeat, wrapping my free hand around her back. I pull her up my body, her legs squeezing my sides as her head tucks into my neck. I struggle with being alive again, a lot. It's hard dealing with Bruce. It was hard being in debt to Ra's Al Ghul. Despite that all, in this very moment, it's so worth being alive.

     I flip us over, Y/N's hold still strong on me as I do so. I prop myself up with my knee, not wanting to crush her under me. "I missed you so much," I murmur, sliding my hands under her shirt, the spandex clinging to both of us now.

     "I missed you too," Y/N answers, sliding her hands into my hair, her fingers twirling the strands around themselves. I push her shirt up, laying kisses across the newly exposed skin. It's been so long since I've seen her, smelt her, touched her. After four long years of nothing but my thoughts of her, I can finally play out all my fantasies. I mean, there's no better way to start the day than with a bang.

     Soft mewls fall from her, only encouraging me more. If I had my way, I would keep her locked away in this apartment. Just her and me, and my longing for her. Nothing but her begging for me and me answering her every beck and call.

     "Y/N?" I hum against the skin of her stomach. She tugs softly on my hair, letting me know she's listening. "We're going to stay right here, all week. Maybe even two weeks."

     "I... I can't. I have work."

     "Not anymore. You're not leaving this apartment until we play out every last thought I've had of you. All four years' worth." Her legs tighten around me, an easy sign of her getting needy, an easy sign of me getting my way. I smirk to myself, dipping my hands down to her thighs. "After all, making you feel good is the least I could do after letting Bruce take me from you." Y/N lets out a breathy moan, letting me know I won.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[loveinhawkins]

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 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 ao3

Eddie helps Steve upstairs, lets him go in the bathroom first. By the time Eddie has gone in there himself, has finished brushing his teeth… he overhears Steve on the phone in his bedroom.

Eddie pauses. He hadn’t heard the phone ringing, but he might not have been able to catch it under the sound of running water. He will never know who called first.

Then he wonders why that even matters so much—or more, what kind of difference it would make. Whether it makes a difference at all.

He doesn’t know whether to leave Steve to it, but his gut tells him to follow the sound of Steve’s voice.

Steve is sat on the bed, the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder. His hands are in his lap; he’s pinching at the skin just before his thumb again. Pinching hard.

“No, no, I’m good. Yeah, the… no, the news must’ve exaggerated, mom. Well, a window broke here, but… yeah, lucky escape, right?”

He lies so easily, lies with a smile… even while he’s crying.

Eddie thinks that if he closed his eyes and just listened, he might never have known. Steve’s tears are perfectly silent, his voice steady. 

“Yeah, I’ll let you go. Hey, mom?” And Steve’s breathing hitches just once. Eddie wonders if he’s the only one who can really hear it. “Thanks for the tapes.” He laughs, voice wavering for only a second. “Just came into my head, that was all. Thought I’d better say.” He swallows. “Love you, too.”

It’s only once he’s hung up that Steve allows himself to let go, and even then he’s quiet—passing a hand roughly over his eyes, sniffling very occasionally. Then he looks over at Eddie, left frozen in the doorway.

“They don’t know, okay? I don’t want you thinking…” Steve sighs. “I changed my emergency contacts ages ago. Hopper, Joyce, Robin—hell, I even put Claudia down ‘cause Dustin’s a nosey little shit and I know he’d pick up. It’s… easier this way,” he says.

And Eddie suspects that while Steve’s ostensibly talking about The Upside Down stuff, he also means something more.

Eddie thinks of Wayne, of how easy he makes everything—how all he said was Try me in the hotel room, right before his understanding of the world was changed forever. How Eddie has never, not once, had to doubt his love.

Steve wipes perfunctorily at his eyes then reaches for his crutches.

“Come downstairs with me? I wanna show you something.”

-

Steve directs Eddie to a video tucked behind the musicals collection. Eddie puts it in to play before taking a look at the cover.

Simon and Garfunkel - The Concert in Central Park.

“You educating me on more music, Steve?”

But instead of taking the opportunity to make a joke, Steve hesitates. “Yeah… if you like.”

Another pause, like he’s readying himself, lining up to the edge of a diving board.

Steve breathes in and out. Nods at the screen. “September 19th, ‘81. I was there. And I, um…” His hand briefly rubs over his sternum, like he’s not even aware that he’s doing it, then taps more deliberately on his temple. “I ran there, too.”

Eddie’s breath catches at the implication.

“Worked for a bit, too. But it was—everything was hard to, like, hold onto. Like water slipping through your fingers kinda thing.”

Eddie nods. Clears his throat. “You don’t have to… to say, but. Why were you in New York? Late vacation?”

Steve winces, clearly tries to cover it up.

But Eddie sees. He sighs and closes his eyes in mortification. “I’m an ass.”

“No, you’re—” Steve shakes his head, laughs a bit. “No, you’re not. How were you s’posed to…? No, not a vacation. My Grandpa, on my mom’s side—he lived in New York. And, um… my Grandma, she died a couple of months before, so my mom was already… struggling. And then, when he died, she… there was a lot left for to do, I think. I don’t remember what—just that she was left trying to clean his big house, and my dad was being an asshole, and her brother—my uncle—he might as well have not been there. So she booked a hotel room for me, just so I wasn’t caught up in the screaming match and stuff, y’know? And that day, I just kinda… wandered.”

Eddie can picture it: Steve, a little lost, perhaps, while trying to appear anything but. A boy trying to be a man.

“And I saw whole groups of people heading to the park, so I asked about it. The concert was free, so…” Steve looks off to the side, sighing. “And I just thought… they were my mom’s favourite, y’know?” His voice goes just slightly higher in pitch, strained with emotion, like he’s that kid all over again, unable to solve his mother’s problems. “Her favourite, and she couldn’t even go see them ‘cause it… it was just so shitty. Shitty situation all round. Figured I might as well see them for her. Like that could make things better. Sounds stupid out loud, but…”

“No,” Eddie says, “it doesn’t.”

Steve’s mouth ticks upwards in brief acknowledgment. “It rained while we were waiting, off and on. But, man, I got a great view. There were these two girls—God, they seemed so much older to me at the time, but they were probably only mid-twenties or something. Anyway. They saw I was alone, got kinda concerned I hadn’t brought a jacket, so they gave me one, let me sit on their picnic rug.” This time, his smile has more strength behind it. “Guess they kinda babysat me, huh?”

Eddie smiles back. “Makes a change.”

I’m glad they were there. I’m glad that you weren’t alone.

Steve laughs to himself when America plays, as the lyric, “She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy,” is sung.

He answers just ahead of the words that follow, delivering them with a grin as if he’s having a conversation with someone: “I said, ‘Be careful, his bow-tie is really a camera.’” He snorts at Eddie’s questioning look, says, “At Starcourt, Dustin had me looking for Russian spies through a pair of binoculars, it was fucking ridiculous… I loved it. Anyway, he didn’t get the bow-tie reference, just went on about how ‘this isn’t James Bond, Steve, this is serious.’ What a butthead.”

And Steve laughs even more as a cover of The Everly Brothers begins: Wake Up Little Susie.

“Oh, dude, I gave Dustin so much shit with this song, you don’t even know. Told him he brought it on himself, like, don’t tell me your girlfriend from Camp Know Nothing’s name, that’s just giving me ammo.”

But as Steve imitates Dustin whining, all Eddie can think is that he’s seeing something far more than just Steve delighting in riling Dustin up. That what he’s really seeing is Steve showing how deeply he cares… How he does it so easily, so inconspicuously, as if it’s just a little thing, just I heard a song and thought of you—like he can’t help it, that’s just how he loves: his mind making connections that spread out everywhere, as large and generous as his heart.

They chat leisurely for most of the setlist, Eddie gasping when someone storms the stage during The Late Great Johnny Ace.

“Shit, I forgot that happened. And you were there, man!”

They both keep quiet all the way through Bridge over Troubled Water. Eddie’s heard the song before, but now it suddenly seems like he’s hearing it for the very first time, his throat tight. Like it’s only now that he’s truly understood it.

From the silence, maybe Steve is thinking something similar. Maybe.

The room lightens with 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.

“This one always makes me think of Robin,” Steve says, smiling as the brass kicks in, miming like she does: a little wiggle of the fingers to simulate pressing down on a trumpet’s valves.

“Thought you’re meant to be helping her find a lover, not lose one.”

Steve chuckles.

“No, I meant… like at work, if we’re arguing over who takes out the trash or whatever, I’ll call her Jack, y’know, like ‘slip out the back, Jack’? Or ‘make a new plan, Stan.’ Stuff like that.”

That’s fucking adorable, what the fuck.

Out loud, Eddie says, “Cute,” just so Steve makes that abashed sort of half-smile.

In the middle of The Boxer, Eddie briefly plays his guitar. He gets the melody down by ear—it’s not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, his fingers clumsily moving through the chords.

But Steve watches like he can’t notice any of the obvious stumbles made, gives a soft, awed, “Wow,” when Eddie is done. Then he adds, almost a whisper, “Was it… did you learn it like that back when…?”

Eddie pauses. Remembers hearing that faint whisper of My Little Town as his head nodded in spite of his fierce efforts to stay awake. Seeing the hint of a frown flicker across Steve’s face. The slimmest hope.

Learning Steve’s song had been unlike any other. All he had to go on, lying on the bed of that hotel room in the early hours of the morning, was that little snippet he had heard—just that, and perhaps faint memories he had no concrete hold of, ones that felt dreamlike: a snatch of Wayne humming along to it on the radio, when he couldn’t have been more than ten or so.

Eddie sang the words that he could, skipped the ones he didn’t know—prayed that it was enough; it had to be enough.

It had felt like time didn’t exist, just him and the song, slowly getting stitched together—even now, he can feel it under his fingertips, as if the notes are like splinters forever embedded in his skin. But not painful, never that, just an inevitable part of him.

Eddie looks into Steve’s eyes.

“No,” he answers softly. “It was… easier, almost. Had to be.” He smiles, a little bittersweet, as Steve’s brows knit together in thought. “Couldn’t afford any mistakes, Steve.”

“Oh,” Steve says. “Sorry.”

Eddie laughs, light but disbelieving. “What the fuck for?”

Steve glances between Eddie and the guitar. “‘Cause you love playing, Eddie. And I… I don’t know, I didn’t want you to have… like, pressure? And, um… bad memories tied to it, I guess.”

Eddie shakes his head and sets the guitar aside. “Okay. You better listen close, Steve.”

Steve huffs through a smile. “Listening.”

“It’s… all of that, Steve, s’not tied to a bad memory, man, not even close. It brought you back, that’s… words can’t even fucking…” Eddie shakes his head again. “And fine, even if it had, even if I really thought after this, I can never play again, guess what? It would’ve been worth it. Fuck, I would’ve chosen it a thousand times and never regretted it. Got it?”

Steve stares at him. He blinks, and for a moment it looks like he might cry, but then he just nods, chin wobbling ever so slightly.

“Got it,” he says hoarsely.

They’ve talked right through the encore. Eddie distantly hears Paul Simon yell at the crowd, “Let's have our own fireworks!”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says, and Eddie can see a memory spark in his eyes.

You’re so beautiful, Steve Harrington.

“I remember this. They were gonna use, uh, pyrotechnics but they weren’t allowed, so—look, see how everyone’s getting lighters out? I didn’t have one, but one of the girls gave me hers. And I remember…” Steve’s voice softens. “It was dark, and when I got the flame going, I just—I saw it out the corner of my eye. The girls, they were holding hands on the rug. And like, I knew it… it wasn’t for me to… y’know, and I didn’t say anything obviously. I didn’t really know what to… what I was feeling, right?” He chuckles self-deprecatingly. “Fucking rare for me to know anything about what I was thinking, back then. I was kind of an idiot. More than.”

Eddie says, gently, “I dunno, Steve. If you ask me, being a kid isn’t the same thing as being an idiot.”

Steve hums, tilts his hand back and forth as if to say debatable. “God, I talk a lot. Didn’t plan on… guess I just.” He shrugs. “Guess I just wanna tell you things.”

“Fine by me,” Eddie says. “I like listening.”

I always like listening to you. Tell me everything, if you want. I’ll be here.

There’s another shot of the crowd on screen, and Eddie crawls forward as he asks, “Where were you?”

“It’s too dark to see, man.”

“Try me.”

Steve rolls his eyes, chuckling. “You think I haven’t tried to find myself already? Ugh, fine, fine. We were kinda near the front, so…” He thinks, clicking his tongue, then points to just a few rows back from the stage, near the far-left of the screen. “Thereabouts.”

Eddie follows Steve’s direction, presses a fingertip there. Feels the warm static of the screen. And though he can’t really see anything, doesn’t even know if Steve is right with his guess or not, it’s like he can sense it anyway; he doesn’t need proof. Like he’s reaching back in time to a boy from five years ago, and he thinks…

Hey, Steve Harrington. The world’s gonna get… fucking crazy for you soon, but it’ll be fine in the end, trust me. You’re one of the bravest people I know. You’re gonna be okay.

During the final encore, Steve inhales like he’s about to say something, but he yawns instead—covers his mouth with the back of his hand a beat too late, like it’s caught him by surprise.

“Mm, sorry. Used to put this on when I couldn’t sleep. Guess it still works.”

Eddie looks over at him, at how his eyes are drowsy, like a child lulled by the gentle rocking of a car journey. Feels his heart give a little twist at the sight.

He ejects the tape, turns off the T.V. When he turns back, he sees that Steve has made room for him on the couch without saying anything about it.

Eddie slips over the arm of the couch, nestles in so smoothly that the couch barely sags at all, so Steve’s leg won’t be bumped; it comes so naturally now, the two of them slotting together like the easiest jigsaw puzzle in the world.

There’s a short silence, and then Eddie speaks in an undertone, just in case Steve has already fallen asleep.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Your, uh… your song. It didn’t play at that concert.”

He glances over, catches Steve’s fleeting grin, as if he’s thinking well spotted.

“Good, um, what is it Henderson says, in D&D? Good perception thingy.”

Eddie laughs in surprise. “Sure, something like that.”

Steve smiles at him. The silence stretches out, but it’s not uncomfortable, more honeyed. Slow.

And Eddie feels a warmth atop his hand: Steve’s fingers overlapping with his. For a moment, he thinks it’s just an accidental brush, but then Steve doesn’t move away.

And neither does he.

Steve sighs. Squeezes Eddie’s hand, like he’s trying to reassure him of something, but for the life of him Eddie can’t work out what it is—just knows that Steve looks almost sad, and he wishes he wouldn’t. It’s breaking his heart.

“I just… I need some more time.” There’s something in Steve’s eyes that’s so vulnerable, suddenly. “Is that… is that okay?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Eddie says immediately, because nothing would stop him from saying so, even as his mind whirs in thought. “Don’t need to ask, Steve. Yes.”

Steve smiles, squeezes his hand again. Eddie can hear what he means this time: Thank you.

“Think I’m gonna fall asleep on you now,” Steve says with another long yawn.

“That’s fine. I’m kinda used to it,” Eddie says, letting out a huff of amusement when Steve mock glares at him through heavy eyes, fighting to keep them open.

“Shut up. Can’t help it.”

“Oh, so I am boring?”

“No. Told you b’fore. No.”

Eddie slowly reaches out—smiles when Steve’s eyes close before his hand even touches his forehead.

“What, then?” he asks quietly.

Steve hums. Sighs again. “You want the… all cards on the table kinda answer?”

Eddie breathes in. Holds it. Breathes out as silently as he can. Feels Steve’s hand still on his, fingers trailing over his knuckles, slowing as sleep approaches.

“Only if—if that’s what you want, too, then… yeah?”

Steve smiles. “Hmm, ‘kay. Here it comes.” His breathing deepens, and for a moment Eddie thinks that he’s already drifted off, but then Steve says, “I really… really like you, Eddie. You’re… safe.”

Eddie’s nose stings. Shit, he might be on the verge of crying. He bites his lip to keep himself from making a sound.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

And the thing is, he knows he’s said it before. But it feels different now—feels louder, somehow, even though he’s only whispered it. Because Steve isn’t asleep, not yet. Eddie knows that he’s heard.

Steve’s finger taps softly on the back of Eddie’s hand, spaced out slowly. Three times. Like heartbeats.

“Mm. R’lax, Eddie. Don’t need to… stop yourself.”

“…Stop?” Eddie asks, voice small.

“Been called worse things, y’know?” A yawn, almost silent. Slow and sweet. “I don’t mind it.”

A minute, maybe more. And then Steve falls asleep just like that, looking so…

So peaceful.

“You’re… safe.”

Eddie’s eyelashes are wet.

Here it comes, he thinks. It’s like the tide coming in.

Here it comes.

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs.

He says it even though he knows Steve is sleeping, says it right through the inevitable aching of his heart.

[heymrspatel]

weekly tag wednesday!

i was tagged by @energievie @lingy910y and @deedala (if you tagged me and it glitched out hi! sorry i missed it) 💙

Name: julissa

Age: 34

Location: new york

What is your DJ name? dj eepy seepy

If you were a genre of music, what would it be? i leave you with this gem of a daylist

i'll haunt you. i'll stroke your chin. i'll make you cre- *gunshot*

What would you title your biography? "lol 😎👉🏼👉🏼"

What are the first three things you'd do if you were invisible? sneak into concerts, sneak into planes, sneak into trains lmao

What subject do you wish was taught in every school? literally how to do basic life things... like quick tell me what the fuck all these words mean in my health insurance renewal? how to manage finances? how to do taxes? 😠👊🏼

When was the last time you tried something for the first time and what was it? my sister gave me a tuna melt this past weekend. i always found them strange lol something about the tuna and the cheese?? idk but it was pretty good!

What is the most underrated city you have ever visited? uuhh idk what qualifies as underrated? i think everywhere i've been is pretty cool in it's own right! but i'd say inverness, scotland 🥰

What day in your life would you like to relive? oof... i've suddenly forgotten my entire life... (also trying to think about this has made me irrationally sad alsdkfjadlsf SKIP)

If you could eliminate one thing from your daily routine, what would it be and why? figuring out what the hell to eat. i'm not talking about eating. i love food. i'm talking about the decision of what i will eat. what do you mean i have to do that every day multiple times a day for my entire life? nah you buggin

How long would you last in a zombie apocalypse? immediately dead.

What would be the most surprising scientific discovery imaginable? i'm going to go with evie and say talking to animals! i would like that very much! let me talk to all the lil guys!!!

If you could have any view out your office window, what would you choose? mountains. big trees. flowy grass. a river. chirping silly birds. some bunnies. waddling ducks.

i'll tag @whatthebodygraspsnot @whatwouldmickeydo @metalheadmickey @gallawitchxx @howlinchickhowl @crossmydna @mybrainismelted @blue-disco-lights @jrooc @mmmichyyy @michellemisfit @darlingian @thepupperino @transmickey @kiinard @jademickian @xninetiestrendx @too-schoolforcool if you would like to play! if not, this is just me giving you a cool feather 🪶

[mikachacha]

GIRL APOLOGIZE WITH TEARS RN FOR DOING THAT TO HAECHI IN THE WAY I LOVE YOU 😭😭😭

(i mean if you could do haechi x reader fluff is also okay 😗 but make it extra long pls)

𝙴𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍

Synopsis: You're a foreign artist on a tour and during your show in Korea, you met one dancer that seemed to have taken over your thoughts.

Warnings: angst & tooth rotting fluff for Haechi because my other big baby deserves some love 🫶 and because i did her dirty 😭😭😭

(A/N: im still quite busy that's why updates are very slow but i swear once my sched clears up, imma bombard yall with fics)

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

You're a pretty famous foreign artist and currently on tour. You were looking forward to going to Korea since it has been a dream ever since you became big in the industry. When you were finally there, you took a whole day to explore and have fun before you started making preparations for your upcoming concert.

You're having some snacks in a café and when you looked out the window, you saw a girl with curly hair along with other women. They seem to be a group of friends who are having fun but you can't stop thinking about the tall one. She's way too cute, very much your type but it's a shame that you'll only be in Korea for a few days before you move to Japan as it's part of your tour. You sighed and pouted a bit, your own thoughts making you sad that you didn't even notice they entered the café you're at until someone from their group approached you with a very happy grin which made you feel happy as well as their smile is contagious.

"Hi Y/N, I'm Mini and I'm a huge fan.. Do you mind if I ask for a picture with you?" the girl, or Mini asked.

"Hiii oh my goodness. I don't mind at all!" you happily said. You took pictures together and she even asked you to sign her phone case, which you did. You invited them to your table to chitchat and get to know her and her friends since that's what you're known for by your fans. You always find time to sit and chat with them.

You learned that they're pretty famous as a crew of dancers and they even invited you to dance with them if you have free time that got you feeling giddy from pure excitement. Haechi couldn't help but be amazed at how beautiful, kind and humble you are. You're this famous artist but you're talking to them like you're just a regular, nothing special kind of person.

"Your hair is so pretty.. I wanted to have that but my manager said no. Still salty about it." Haechi's brain seemed to have stopped working when you complimented her hair. She was smiling like an idiot while a soft blush crept its way to her cheeks that got her team smiling in a knowing fashion as they watched their youngest blush even at the simplest compliment from you.

You hang out with Wolf'lo for the rest of the day, they were nice enough to show you around and they even teach you some basic korean words that you could use to interact with your fans at your concert. You wanted to invite them as your guest acts at your concert but they won't be able to perform due to them competing in a dance competition. You were a bit saddened but they promised to attend your concert so you gave them backstage passes then you parted ways with them since your manager will personally whop your ass if you didn't go back to the hotel you're staying at.

You and Haechi would constantly message each other on instagram whenever you're free. You enjoyed every second you spent talking to her and you even developed a crush on her though you constantly try and remind yourself that you're just staying over her country for a few days so it's not possible for you two to date unless she's in to long distance. You just basked in the attention you're receiving from her.

Unbeknownst to you, Haechi has been feeling the same. Talking to you has been the highlight of her day. She absolutely loved the messaging you, just getting to know you better. Her team has been teasing her for days regarding how close she is becoming to you, some even going as far as telling her to just fess up and ask you for a date before you go off.

The day of your concert came and you were very anxious backstage. You don't know how the Korean crowd will react to your performance and because you just love stressing yourself out by overthinking.

"Hey Y/N!" Haechi waved at you and you couldn't help but blush because one, she looks so cool and hot in her outfit and second, you have realized that you're definitely crushing on her.

"Hiiii I'm so glad you could make it! Where are the others?" you asked and she gave you a hug that calmed your nerves a little bit but got your heart racing from a different feeling that's far from the anxiety of having to perform onstage.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world. Mini and the others will be a little late. Think they're stuck at traffic.." Haechi says and you smiled, nodding your head. You wanted to chat with her some more but you were called by your director, telling you that you're gonna be on stage in a minute. You don't know what came over you but you gave Haechi a kiss on the cheek before running off. Haechi was left there stunned, blushing and holding her cheek which still has your lipstick mark on it. She smiled like an idiot as she saw you run off.

The concert was a blast and you're having so much fun. Performing and then seeing your fans enjoying themselves is what keeps you going. Halfway through the concert, you grabbed your guitar and asked for a chair so you can play more comfortably. You added this little number the last minute so nobody from the audience anticipated it.

"So uhm.. I'm gonna play a song. Well it's not one of mine but from Ms. Taylor Swift. I just wanna play it to get some feelings out of my chest." you spoke and there was a series of 'awww' and little squeals of excitement as you began to play Enchanted on your guitar. All you could think about while singing the song is Haechi, the bittersweet feeling of liking her but you couldn't tell her since you're only there for a limited number of days then you're also not sure if she likes you or not.

"This is me praying that

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you.." you sang your heart out then glanced at the back to see Haechi peeking and you gave her a slight smile while you continued singing.

"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you.." at that point, you weren't just singing anymore. You're sat there, trying to tell her how you feel and just hoping that maybe she feels the same way as you do.

You continued singing and Haechi couldn't help but feel mesmerized by how good you are and how pretty.. She's just so mesmerized by you. She could swear that her heart broke and melted at the same time when you looked at her as you sang. She could feel every emotion you've put into that song. She wanted to go up there, hug you and hold you close and assure you that she's not in love with someone else but then again, you're this famous star. You're from different backgrounds and she feels like you're meant for someone greater than her.

When you were done with the concert, you immediately ran backstage but was disappointed that Haechi wasn't there anymore. You changed into more comfortable clothes before you hang out with your new found friends and did some pictures with some fans. Maybe it really wasn't meant to be, you and Haechi are not meant to be together. It hurts a bit but you accepted it. Maybe it's for the best.

It was the last night before you're about to head off to another country. You're just packing your stuff and listening to music, you don't really feel like going out since you're a bit sad about leaving and not being able to tell Haechi directly about your feelings or going out on a date with her. You still talk to her but you feel kinda awkward now and just very down.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't notice someone was knocking on your door until you heard the third set of knocks. You quickly got up and peeked through the peephole to see Haechi, looking nervous as heck. You panicked a bit, you wanted to scream and cry and just hide but you opened the door for her before she can knock again. You looked at her, confused and she looked back at you, a relieved smile on her face before pulling you in for an embrace.

"Thank goodness you're still here.. Chocol and the others told me you're already leaving.." she says, her voice cracking and you rubbed her back gently before guiding her inside. It broke your heart seeing Haechi sad but you couldn't help but feel hope bubble inside you because she came to see you on your last night in her country. It got your hopes up that maybe, just maybe, she feels something for you as well.

"Well I'm actually just packing my stuff. I have to leave to go to the airport at 10 am tomorrow." you told her and she frowned, holding both your hands and kissing your knuckles. She held your hands like she didn't want to let you go.

"I know that there's not enough time for us. You're leaving for your tour and I'm not that selfish to stop you from leaving.. But Y/N I couldn't stop thinking about you. Ever since we met at the café, and especially when you kissed my cheek before your concert. It took every ounce of self restraint to not run up to the stage, hug you, kiss you and assure you that I'm not in love with someone else.. That I'm only in love with you but I was scared. Fear got to me so I left instead. I mean, you're this famous star with so many people lining up to date you and I'm just this dancer from South Korea. You deserve so much better.." Haechi finally confessed and you were stunned for a moment. All this time Haechi was also into you?

You cupped Haechi's cheeks and placed a kiss on her lips. It was soft, it was wonderful but it's also bittersweet. You're sharing your first kiss the night before your scheduled leave. You pulled away and rubbed your thumb on her cheek, smiling.

"If you can just wait for me until the end of this tour, I will come back for you.. I wanna give us a chance, I really do. But if you can't wait for me that long, I'll understand. But know this, what I feel for you is real.. I'm in love with you, Haechi." you told her and she nods, placing a kiss on your lips before embracing you.

"No, wait for me instead. I'm just gonna finish my prior commitments here then I'm gonna follow you where you go. I wanna be with you, no matter how far that is. As long as I'm with you then I'm gonna be okay." she told you, her eyes sincere and you nodded. She spent the night at your hotel room, just you and her cuddling together until sleep claimed both of you in its sweet embrace. Haechi went with you to the airport and before you went off with your team, you ran to her and gave her a kiss. You couldn't care less about people seeing, you don't really care what people are gonna say. All you cared about it Haechi and the love you have for each other. You smiled at her and she kissed your forehead before ushering you to go. You didn't say goodbye because you know for a fact that you're gonna see her again.

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Forever's a Long Time

Pairing: Rick Flag x Female Reader

Summary: Rick made a mistake. Before he has a chance to fix it, he’s called away on a mission.

Warnings: Flangst; Canon divergence

Word Count: 3,523

Beta: None. I have no idea why I decided to die a warrior writer on this one, but here we are. 

Author Notes: A long overdue ask and my first-ever Rick Flag fic. Once I got into the meat of this, I had a lot of fun writing it. Prompts were Rick Flag-Music-Making up

He fucked up big time.

He was supposed to meet you at the concert, but he’d run into some of his old army buddies. They’d persuaded him to join them for a drink at a nearby bar. One drink turned into two, two into three, and before he knew it, almost four hours had passed. 

It wasn’t that he’d forgotten the significance of the day or where he was supposed to be. It was that he had just lost track of time. When he finally makes it to the arena, your seat is empty. He waits for a bit, hoping you’ve simply gone to get a drink or to the bathroom. After several minutes, he admits defeat, stomach muscles rippling with tension, realizing you aren’t coming back.

Breaking every speed limit to race home, he worries that this time might be the proverbial straw and you will leave. He drops his bag at the front door and hurries down the hallway to find you sitting on the end of the bed, crying. The simultaneous hit of relief and guilt makes his heart painfully clench. “I’m sorry,” he exclaims, a lump forming in his throat when you flinch hearing his voice.

“Just… leave me alone.”. 

“Babe…”

“Go away!” you shout, turning away from him.

“Please, let me explain,” he begs.

“Go.” Your voice is thick and muffled, your body shaking as you sob.

Rick hesitates, wanting to go to you, fall to his knees, and beg your forgiveness, but the pain and anger in your tone is heartbreakingly clear. Any attempt to get you to listen to him now will only result in him screwing up further. He gently shuts the door behind him, making his way to the small bar in the living room.

He pours a hefty amount of scotch into a tumbler, gulping down half the contents in one go. Seconds after the smoky sweetness hits his taste buds, he turns and hefts the drink into the fireplace. “I’m a goddamn idiot,” he berates as glass shards and amber liquid reign down, sinking into cold ash.

The phone that vibrates in his pocket angers him further. He knows who’s calling before he even looks at the screen. She always has the worst possible timing. Turning to stare into the inky darkness beyond the window behind the bar, he answers the call with a fierce, “What do you want?”

Twenty minutes later, hands gripping the frame, he presses his forehead to the bedroom door …debating. He agreed to go on the mission. Honestly, he never has much of a choice with Waller, but this time, he called in—no, demanded—a favor in return. Even though she owes him, he knows he will end up paying for it in some way, but he doesn’t care if the outcome is what he’s hoping for.

The concern now is you. There are a couple of ways this will go, and he’s afraid of the worst.

While you have every right to be, you’ve never been this angry with him. If he tells you he’s leaving on a mission before things are settled between you, it could cause an even bigger fight. If he doesn’t tell you he’s leaving, the rift it causes could be irreparable.

What he’s hoping for is that by giving you some time and space, he’ll have a better chance of fixing the mess he’s made. Even though he knows that’s a chickenshit excuse he’s trying to convince himself with, he’s out of time. He has to leave.

“I’ll love you forever,” he whispers. The sentiment he voices every time he leaves on assignment, except this time, he won’t hear your reply.

After experiencing your first aftermath of a full-fledged mission, you made him promise that no matter what was going on in your relationship at the time, you would always let the other know how much you loved them before he left—an effort to assuage the unspoken fear of him possibly not coming back alive.

A couple of months later, he had to leave again. You weren’t speaking to him then, angry over a stupid comment he’d made. Just as he was ready to walk out the door, you grabbed him, pulling him into a passionate kiss. When you released the death grip on his jacket, lips parting from his, you’d whispered. “Do you know how much I love you? My heart is yours …always.”

He’d stroked your hair, held your face in his hands, kissed your forehead, and said, “I’ll love you forever.”

“Forever’s a long time,” you’d teased back, trying to hide the fear he knew you felt.

Getting caught up in the moment, he’d laughed, “And that’s how long I’ll love you,” but he knew then and there that he’d never said truer words.

After that, the little exchange had become a ritual before he would leave. Today will be the first time those promises won’t be shared.

Pushing off the frame, he steals his heart and closes his mind against the feelings with a deep breath. Grabbing the bag he’d left sitting unpacked in the foyer, he quietly closes the front door, a note left propped against an empty vase on the kitchen island.

Puffy, bloodshot eyes stare back at you, and salty tear tracks stain your cheeks. You’d fallen asleep infuriated but bereft. “How could he forget?” Your dejected reflection has no reply. The only person who can supply that information is him.

After doing your best to clear the remnants of heartbreak from your face, you pull on one of his hoodies and make your way out of the sanctuary of the bedroom. Expecting to find him passed out on the couch or sleeping in the spare bedroom, anxiety hits when you find he’s in neither location. 

Finding his note turns the fear to ire, and the vase angrily swept from the counter to shatter like your heart. 

After two days of unanswered calls and texts, your emotions running the gamut of rage to heartbreak to fear, then back to anger, you finally settle on remorse. Rick left, with you angry at him. You had each promised that he would never leave without talking first.

You want to continue to be angry with him, furious that he didn’t talk to you before he went out on assignment, but concern for his safety wars with your temper. You had refused to speak to him that night, kicking him out of your shared bedroom. Knowing him the way you do, you assume he felt it best to give you space. It doesn’t make it hurt any less or diminish the fear. If something happens to him during the mission … “NO,” you shout, reprimanding yourself. “He’ll come home safe.”

You know that trying to contact Waller will only increase your frustration—she won’t give you any answers. 

Clutching the pillow that still smells like him, you curl into a ball and breathe into the dark silence of the room, “My heart is yours,” crying yourself to sleep for the third night in a row.

With still no word from Rick the following morning, you know you need a distraction, or you will have a nervous breakdown. After calling work to tell them you are taking the week off—you want to be here when he comes home—you decide to clean the house. Having seen the broken glass in the fireplace, you opt to clean that as well, making a thorough mess of yourself and your clothes.

Shutting off the hair dryer, you step out of the bathroom in clean, comfy leggings and one of Rick’s sweatshirts, feeling refreshed and a little less stressed, until the doorbell rings.  

As you race to the entryway, your mind immediately latches onto the worst thought. You stop cold, hand hovering over the doorknob, picturing the uniformed men on the other side waiting to deliver that blow to your heart. “No, no, no,” you breathe, “it’s not that. It can’t be that.” You’d know before anyone told you. You would have felt it. 

With a deep breath, you turn the knob and yank the door open, startling the person holding a huge arrangement of flowers. 

“Oh, hello!” the young man exclaims, handing you the flowers, calling, “Have a good day,” as he rushes back to his delivery van.

Stunned by the size of the bouquet and the swiftness of the whole interaction, your belated “Thank you” is uttered to the rear of the vehicle as it pulls away from the curb.

Luckily, the flowers came in a vase as you’d broken the only one you had large enough to hold them. You shuffle into the kitchen, your nose buried in the fragrant bouquet, smiling as you think about Rick explaining to the florist exactly which flowers to include. Every stem was a species of flower you loved or held a special meaning for the two of you, and each blossom was your favorite color, accented by tiny white petals and greenery.

Setting the arrangement in the middle of the kitchen table, you grab the small envelope nestled in the blooms and sit as you open it. A laugh strangled by a sob catches in your throat at seeing Rick’s handwriting, I’ll love you forever, on the tiny card within.

The relief at knowing he’s alive tamps down the heartache and frustration still simmering within you. Flipping the card between your fingers, you find another message on the back. Pack a bag. A car will arrive in thirty. Glancing at the clock on the stove, you realize you have a little over twenty minutes if you go from the time the flowers arrived.

Jumping up from the chair, you race down the hallway. Yes, the two of you need to talk through what happened the other night, but excitement at seeing him pushes all other emotions aside. Tugging a small suitcase from your closet shelf, you laugh, realizing you have no idea where you’re going or what kind of weather you should pack for. 

A peek at the clock on your nightstand tells you that you’re down to fifteen minutes. After quickly changing into a comfortable pair of jeans and a top, you toss a few basics into the luggage, hurling curses at the framed picture of him on your dresser for not giving you more time. Shoving your toiletries, passport, and wallet in the bag, you zip it closed and take a look around the room. You’re out of time, so you hope you have what you need, and if not, then you guess you’ll buy it when you get wherever you’re going. 

With comfortable footwear in one hand, you roll your bag to the foyer. The doorbell rings just as you drop the shoes to the floor to slip them on. A smartly dressed woman is on the other side, holding a small bouquet of purple calla lilies. 

“Hello,” you say, slightly stunned by yet more flowers. Apprehension settles in that he’s trying to compensate for something, hoping to soften a blow not yet delivered.

She greets you with a nod and a smile, “Good morning,” and hands you the flowers as she reaches for your luggage. “Let me get your bag for you.” 

“Oh, sure.” You lock the door as she wheels the suitcase toward a large SUV. Asking reveals no destination other than the airport, where upon arrival, you are ushered onto a private plane …alone.

Rick is not aboard, but he seems to have ensured that the crew pampers you, and you wonder how he made this all happen and worry about what it will cost him with Waller. He may have some favors owed to him, but you’re pretty sure nothing of this caliber—another item to add to your growing list of questions.

Your final destination seems to be an off-limits topic. Either the crew genuinely doesn’t know or has been warned not to tell. So you decide to do the only thing you can do—relax and enjoy the luxury, sipping your favorite drink and nibbling on the fresh fruit, cheese, and chocolates from the platter set in front of you.

You hadn’t planned on falling asleep and are startled when the flight attendant taps your shoulder to let you know you’ll be landing in twenty. Looking at the time on your phone, you find it’s late afternoon and in a completely different time zone. A peek out the window reveals nothing but clear azure water below. Anticipation and anxiety kick your pulse up. Excitement at finally seeing him mixes with latent anger, so you take a few calming breaths. 

Another car awaits you as you exit the plane onto a small landing strip, but still no Rick. You’re heart plummets, and your gut churns. What if this is some elaborate hoax? What if you are being kidnapped and will be held hostage as leverage against Rick? The logical side of your brain knows that the thought is a bit far-fetched, but you dig in your heels anyway.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask the driver waiting for you. “Where’s Rick?”

“I am not at liberty to say, Miss.” You have received the same rehearsed reply from everyone you’ve asked.

Fisting your hands, you widen your stance as Rick taught you, tone demanding as you shout, “I am not going any further until you tell me where I am and where Rick is!”

The man is imposing, a mountain of muscle, so you have to give him credit when he doesn’t laugh, even though a corner of his mouth quirks up. He does stare you down, though, gauging your demeanor for a long moment. “Cute.” With a nod and a wink, he reaches for your suitcase sitting next to you on the tarmac, putting it in the vehicle as he chuckles, “Nice form, though. Flag teach you that?”

Sighing in defeat at the amusement spreading over his features, you unfurl your fists and huff, “At least tell me where we are.”

“Private island.” Opening the front passenger door, he gestures inside. “Now, get in. He’s waiting.”

With a roll of your eyes, you stomp over to the vehicle and climb in. Thankfully, the drive is short as your companion seems to be the strong, silent type—not offering any other information, no matter how annoying you make yourself.

Helping you out of the Jeep, he sets your bag beside you and points to a tree-lined path. “Through there,” are his vague, gruffly given directions before he hops back in the vehicle and speeds off down the road.

“Good thing I wasn’t planning on tipping you,” you yell at the taillights, grumbling as you drag your suitcase behind you, “Gonna file a complaint with customer service is what I’m gonna do.”

Rounding a curve in the path, your eyebrows shoot up as your eyes bulge. “WOW!” Before you is a large stone facade villa. A wood plank veranda seemingly wraps around the entire building, surrounded by palm trees and lush vegetation. Rick still hasn’t made an appearance, and your ire starts to overshadow the peacefulness of your surroundings. Once inside the open-air foyer, you spin in place, taking in the clean lines and understated beauty of the place.

“Gorgeous,” you murmur, staring at the intricately detailed design.

“I agree.”

You spin to face the direction his husky voice came from and drop your gaze from the inlaid teak ceiling to find him leaning against the doorjamb of what appears to be a bedroom. His hair is damp, and a towel slung low on his hips.

“I meant you, by the way.” Pushing himself upright with a shoulder, he smiles. “You’re earlier than I expected, but damn, you’re a sight.” Uncrossing his arms, he opens them wide. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too,’ you state, fighting the emotions to keep the tremor from your voice when you catch sight of the large bruise now visible on his left side.

As you get closer, your eyes take stock of his other injuries—the bruised cheek, the cut on his temple almost hidden in his hairline, the split in his bottom lip—reminding you of how dangerous his missions can be. It makes you suspicious of how close you came to losing him this time. “How close?”

He tilts his head with a slight shrug. “Too close,” adding quickly, “but I’m here and only slightly damaged.” He knows better than to try and sugarcoat it because it only makes you angrier, but he still always tries to deflect from the seriousness of any injuries. 

Everything you’ve been feeling the past few days converges, driving you to swing your hand up and slap him hard when you’re within reach. Tears immediately well in your eyes, and your chest heaves with each intake of breath.

Rick drops his arms and flexes his jaw. He knows you. He knows how badly he hurt you, how scared you were when you couldn’t reach him, how angry you are for him leaving without talking to you first. His gaze never wavers from yours, but he doesn’t move, seemingly waiting for an onslaught of rage-fueled words or another hit.

But you can’t—the relief of seeing him alive and standing in front of you crests and consumes all other emotions. You bury your face in his chest and wrap your arms around him as you release all your feelings with your tears. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he rasps, cocooning you in his embrace. “So sorry.”

When you’ve calmed enough to look at him, you slip your hands around his neck and pull him down for a kiss, feeling the tension ease from him when you press up on your toes to get closer. When you pull away, he thumbs the remaining tears from your cheeks. “I-”

“No,” you shake your head, letting him know you don’t want to get into it right now. He nods in understanding and gives you a sexy little smirk as he spins the two of you around, backing you into the room. 

“So, we have this place to ourselves for the rest of the week.” He grabs something off the small table next to the door, and the room is filled with the low, sultry tune of one of your favorite songs. Next, the lights dim, and candlelit shadows dance on the walls as the sun sinks lower.

“Smooth, Flag.” You gasp when he spins you away from him and giggle when he twirls you back into his embrace. “Very smooth.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he dances the two of you around the room, getting lost in the music, his scent, and the feeling of his skin against yours. Talking can wait until tomorrow. Forgiveness will be found. Tonight, you just want to feel. You’re about to tell him exactly that when he breaks the silence first.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it right now, but-”

“Then shut up.” Your tone is mostly teasing, but he stills, tracing the line of your jaw before gently tilting your head up.

“I want to make it up to you.” He steps back, slipping his hands under your shirt, and you don’t resist when he pushes it up and off your body. Large hands smooth down your sides, fingers deftly undoing your jeans, working them down your legs until you can kick free of them. “Show you how sorry I am.”

“Then show me,” you pout.

He runs a finger under your bra strap before hooking it around the elastic and tugging the fabric off your shoulder. “I think you’re still a little overdressed, darlin’.” He slips the other strap off your shoulder, kissing along your clavicle. 

Reaching behind your back, you unclasp the bra and let it fall to the floor. You don’t realize how close you are to the bed until he pushes a thigh between your legs and leans forward, falling with you onto the mattress. He lands on a forearm to keep from crushing you but grips your wrist with his free hand, pushing it above your head.

A salacious smile follows a sweet kiss to your forehead right before he nips your chin. Sliding over your body, he kisses a path between the valley of your breasts down to your belly button, the scruff on his chin tickling your flesh. Before he can go further, you grip the nape of his neck and tug. 

The twinkle in his adoring gaze when he rests his chin on your stomach momentarily steals the words from your lips. Breath hitches as you ghost a finger near the cut at his temple, tears well as the pads of your fingers gently glide over his bruised cheek, lips tremble when your thumb drifts lightly over his damaged lip. He releases your wrist, entwining his fingers with yours, and you find your voice again.

“I’ll love you forever,” you manage to breathe.

He arches a brow, a silent inquiry for stealing his line, but replies with a smile, “Forever’s a long time.”

You smile in return, squeezing his hand. “And that’s how long I’ll love you.”

@princessmisery666

[leaderpinhead]

Idia - Like A Shoujo Cliche

Prompt: Role Reversal Notes: I feel like this could be read as both a romantic and platonic interaction. Personally, I enjoy a more platonic Idia/Yuu pairing, like two siblings.

Idia fiddled with the headphones around his neck. The crowd passed in front of him like a sea of faceless NPCs. Idia clutched his tablet closer and took a small step back to avoid being trampled by a trio of giggling girls.

Why had he agreed to do this? Oh, yeah because Ortho bullied him into it. “This is a once in a lifetime chance, big brother!” Ortho had insisted. “It’s a limited-time offer, and it’s right here on Sage’s Island. Do you really wanna spend hundreds of thaumarks to buy the same Premo merch from a dirty scalper?”

Honestly, Idia hadn’t minded the thought at all. Sure, he hated people who bought fan merch for next to nothing and then sold it for ten times the amount, but it made his life a lot easier. Just click a few buttons and wait a few days for the package to arrive at the Mystery Shop. Easy, breezy.

And not panic inducing like standing here like a complete weirdo taking up space in front of a cutesy cafe.

“Idia!”

Idia jumped. He nearly lost his balance spinning to face the direction he had heard Yuu’s voice. She waved when they made eye contact. The sprint Idia did to reach her would have put his record times in PE to shame, and Vargas would have given him an immediate spot on the track team.

Idia grabbed Yuu’s wrist. “What took you so long? I thought we said ten sharp. You weren’t here at ten sharp!”

Yuu rolled her eyes. She shook her arm, but he refused to let go of her. “Stop acting like I completely ghosted you. I’m literally five minutes late.”

“You’re still late,” Idia insisted. He tucked his tablet into his pocket. He clung to Yuu’s arm with both hands. He cringed closer to her shoulder to avoid a group of normies taking up over half the sidewalk. “Do you have any idea how stressful all this is? I don’t come here on the regular. How am I supposed to blend in with all the normies?”

“The first step is to stop acting like you’re being tortured for just breathing,” Yuu said. She shook her arm again, but Idia clung to her out of sheer stubbornness now. She sighed. “Come on, Idia. We’re here to enjoy something you like. The least you can do is be a bit excited.”

Idia pouted. He was excited...once he got past all the anxiety of brushing shoulders with complete strangers. He enjoyed all the livestreams of Premo’s concerts; he watched all their interviews and was active in all the big fan groups. He collected memorabilia like it was no tomorrow. He just...had never experienced something actually live.

And it seemed a bit silly to be stepping into a cutesy, pastel cafe with him being all “doom-and-gloom" like.

“We’ll even get a few crepes,” Yuu insisted when he stayed quiet for too long. Instead of trying to pull herself free again, she gave one of his hands a friendly pat. “They don’t have energy drink flavor, but Cater said the hazelnut chocolate ones were pretty popular.”

The only response Idia could give was an embarrassing groan. How lame was this? He was giving off NEET vibes like a radioactive zombie in some post-apocalyptic world. No wonder all the girls who had passed him going into the cafe had giggled and whispered to each other while shooting him some major side-eye.

Idia clung to Yuu’s arm as they stepped through the cafe’s door. It was just like he had seen through the window: cheerful pastels and bubbly employees. He liked the little woodland creature mascots pictured on the walls and displayed on the tables, but he figured a noodle with flaming hair cooing over a cute rabbit would earn him more stares.

His eyes darted across the menu hanging on the far wall. A separate board had been placed to the side of it, and the darker colors immediately caught his eye. Premo’s band logo—a stylized eyeball with a golden thread circling it—was pictured beside a parfait with several blue and purple layers topped with a cloud of whipped cream and blueberries. Another treat—a crepe with blueberry whipped cream and a drizzle of golden caramel sauce topped with whole blueberries—was pictured alongside it.

The second treat made Idia tighten his grip on Yuu’s arm. “They’re advertising a crepe with the parfait! No one mentioned a crepe on the message board.”

Yuu chuckled and patted his forearm. “I’ll get that crepe then. Why don’t you go find a table for us? The line doesn’t look too long, and I should be able to get them myself.”

Idia nodded and made a quick beeline to the tiny table in the farthest corner. He tucked himself into the chair facing towards the rest of the cafe. The other tables were occupied with mostly girls, but he spotted a few guys here and there. Mainly with one girl, and the girl was giggling while the guy looked like he took every opportunity he could to put his arm on the back of her chair.

Idia’s nose wrinkled. Talk about a shoujo manga cliche. Idia bet they had some equally cliche interaction, like the girl getting whipped cream on her cheek and the guy wiping it away with his thumb and saying something swoon-worthy. Then they’d continue their date and later have a “will-they-won't-they" kissing moment before someone else interrupts. It was kinda lame to think about it.

Idia’s tablet buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out without hesitation and found a message from Ortho. He was asking if Idia and Yuu had made it to the cafe yet. He grinned and typed out a response before holding his tablet up to take a picture of the limited-time menu options. Ortho would get as hyped as him about the extra crepe option.

Yuu stood at the counter just below the menu. She pointed up at the board just as Idia took the picture. He giggled at the serendipitous moment and shot the pic off into cyberspace. Ortho immediately responded with a happy face.

The next time he looked up, he found Yuu flanked by two guys. She held a tray with the Premo desserts and squinted up at the guys. Her head bounced back and forth as if they were talking too quickly for her to even form a response.

Idia sat frozen in his chair. Was he supposed to jump up and help her? From what he knew, Yuu usually handled her own problems without any issue. She had definitely handled guys on the campus that were twice her size. Idia getting into the mix would just cause more problems. Yeah, he was better off just waiting right here...

One of the guys grabbed her elbow. Yuu immediately jerked to the side in an attempt to free herself. The motion nearly knocked the parfaits off the tray.

Idia had crossed the cafe before he even realized it. He huffed when he reached the trio. “Are you guys some kind of shoujo creeps who can’t take a hint? The girl’s not interested.”

The guys spun on him. From a distance, they had looked to be bigger than Yuu, but up close, Idia actually thought they looked shorter than her, which made them way shorter than him. They blinked up at him like they didn’t know how to respond. Yuu blinked at him in the same way.

Idia widely grinned with false bravado. “Not so tough when you’re up against someone bigger, huh?”

One of the guys stuttered and looked down at his shoes. The other guy, the one still holding Yuu, pointed an accusing finger at her. “She doesn’t even know the names of Precipice Moirai!”

Idia’s grin faltered, and it was his turn to be confused. “Huh?”

“She can’t even name a Premo song!” the guy insisted. He pulled on Yuu’s arm again, but she braced herself to keep him from shaking anything on the tray. She glared at the guy but didn’t say anything. “The limited-time parfait and crepe are for real Premo fans. Not some fake fan who doesn’t even realize how valuable the reusable parfait cup and limited-edition crepe button pin are!”

The turn of events, while still shocking, immediately made Idia cackle. He loomed over the guy still holding Yuu, his grin widening. “For real? You’re really that type of guy. What gives you the right to gatekeep, bruh? Over a buncha sweets too? Premo would legit disown you plebs. They’d be the first to say the threads of fate can guide anyone to them. You’re thinking of clipping that thread prematurely? Lame.” Idia took a deep breath and scowled at the speechless guy. “And FYI, Yuu’s tots a fan. She might not be able to hold a tune, but she’s def jammed to a Premo song or two while waiting to queue into a game lobby. I got the proof right here—.”

“Okay!” Yuu’s abrupt interjection made all three of them jump. The guy holding her jerked away like her arm was a hot iron skillet. She shrugged between the guys to stand next to Idia. “I think we get the point. And they’re not going to gatekeep anymore because they really shouldn’t judge a person without knowing them. Right?”

The two guys picked up Yuu’s scary authoritative vibes and snapped to attention. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Yuu paused. She lightly gestured the tray at them. “Now, uh, go order your own parfaits and crepes.”

The guys nodded and practically tripped their way back to the counter. Idia snickered. Idia would be the first to admit he was an otaku, but it was hilarious to watch other weebs embarrass themselves.

Yuu nudged his side with her elbow, and Idia followed her back to the table where he’d left his tablet. It wasn’t until they were seated that he realized a good number of the other customers were staring in their direction. Mainly the girls, who immediately started whispering and giggling with each other when he looked in their direction.

His face warmed with his own embarrassment, and he ducked his head into his jacket. Yuu pushed one of the Premo parfaits and the crepe in front of him and took the other parfait for herself. She grabbed one of the Premo buttons, the cellophane bag crinkling between her fingers. “Can I open this or am I committing a Premo sin?”

Idia snickered and temporarily forgot about the girls giggling at him. “I don’t care. I’ll keep mine sealed just for the collector’s value of it.”

“Cool.” Yuu unwrapped the button and swung her canvas shoulder bag onto her lap. She pinned the button to the flap of the bag. The ink used to print Premo’s logo shimmered when she moved the flap. “I’ve never actually seen the band’s logo before, but I like it!”

Idia rolled his eyes and grabbed his tablet to take pictures of the parfait and crepe. “I can’t believe you just admitted that. After I just sacrificed what little dignity I had to defend you against those gatekeeping dweebs.”

“Your sacrifice was greatly appreciated.” Idia rolled his eyes again, but Ortho had already responded to the pictures. Idia quickly responded to his brother’s awe. “By the way, thanks for the save. They were saying things I’ve never even heard from you.”

“How about we just forget that big flub,” Idia said. He grabbed the tiny spoon for the parfait but paused. He squinted and decided to attack the crepe first. “I’m already gonna suffer remembering it later.”

“I don’t see why,” Yuu argued. She didn’t have an issue stabbing the fluffy whipped cream of the parfait. Idia stared in horror as she shoveled the edible cloud onto a napkin to reach the sour yogurt beneath. “I think you made half the girls in here swoon.”

Idia choked on the large bite of crepe and blueberry whipped cream he had just taken. He stared at Yuu with wide eyes. “You’re kidding, right? Girl’s swooning over me? More like they were grossed out.”

Yuu’s eyelids drooped. “I think you underestimate the first impression you give some people. It’s not until you open your mouth that they get second thoughts, though this time it actually worked in your favor.”

Idia scoffed and went in for another bite. He froze when he realized Yuu was leaning towards him. She casually—almost too casually—swiped her thumb across his cheek at the corner of his mouth. She pulled back with a dollop of blue cream on her thumb. “Sometimes I wonder how any of you boys survive with the messes you make.”

She popped her thumb into her mouth, and Idia thought he was going to melt into a puddle of embarrassed shoujo cliche.

[katuschka]

A Rollercoaster Ride with Tom&Jerry

Josh Kiszka x male OC (1st person narrative) 8.014 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: intense and confusing emotions; swear words; both verbal and physical fights; oral sex; anal sex (surprise, surprise, it's about two guys); toys; choking&gagging&some spanking; BDSM; ...so you see, it's not for everyone. This is basically a story about finding and re-establishing mutual trust. It involves conflict. Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned. So if you have any doubts that you're gonna be able to handle it, proceed with caution. Big thanks goes to: 1. @edgingthedarkness for making an illustrative short video (you're gonna find it inside the story below) that should make the whole experience even juicier! 2. all my beta-readers and cheerleaders, especially @writingcold, @edgingthedarkness, @its-interesting-van-kleep and @thewritingbeforesunrise. Cheers, guys.

I've got some things to say 'Cause there's a lot that you don't know It's written on my face It's gonna be hard to swallow (P!nk)

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?” 

I sighed. Yeah, no shit. There was actually so much I wanted to say to him ever since the show ended, I just couldn’t figure out how to do that without sounding like a jealous little girl. My mind was absolutely racing and when that happens, the connection between my brain and my mouth just gets cut off completely. It’s a serious condition, really. Commonly known as “sulking.” 

I often accompany him on tour, but I try to avoid live shows. I have my reasons. Hundreds of them. I agreed to be there for the last few concerts, which I now deeply regretted. 

It had been a really busy and eventful week; me, myself and I getting increasingly irritated – by everything, but mostly him – as the days went by, and tonight’s events felt like the last straw. Part of me wanted to be finally alone with him, and another part just wanted to be alone. So, as a result, I just tried to avoid him. I had kept to myself while watching him down his beer as the band enjoyed their aftershow high back in the green room. No one else seemed to pay attention to me, and for that I was glad. Now we were sitting in a car on our way back to the hotel room, and the confrontation that I’d tried to avoid seemed inevitable. 

As much as I pretended to be interested in the night scenery behind the window, it was impossible to ignore him any longer. Sadly, it was equally impossible to pretend that everything was ok and the idea that we could resolve it soon seemed pretty absurd. He was still in his stage outfit, bare chest in full display, absentmindedly scratching the skin right below his left nipple. Much to my dismay, he smelled divine, too. Warm and musky from the exertion, still with a faint hint of vanilla and cedar. AND he was obviously completely clueless. 

“You know Josh, you make it really hard sometimes...” 

Well, shit. I realized what I just did even before I finished the sentence. The instant smirk on his face told me that it was a really bad word choice and I regretted it immediately. I really wished that he would take it seriously this time. But he was still exhilarated and unnaturally restless, even to his standards. He literally couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in his seat, rapping his knuckles on a windowsill, giggling at nothing in particular…and I’d swear I even heard a moan when the car accidentally hit a curb. If I didn’t know him, I would say that he was high, but I knew he would never do that while performing. 

“Yeah, I often do, don’t I darling.” He turned to me and pouted playfully, his chin resting on his fist. “...but you’re never quiet when that happens, so why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you.” He was looking at me now, the lower lip between his teeth again, eyelids half closed. Cheeky bastard. 

What I really meant was – and he just proved my point again, by the way – that it was hard to keep the conversation serious when he was like that. And he was like that most of the fucking time. Everyone loved him for it, and that was the problem, because he just didn’t hesitate to love them all back. Not only was this his nature, but what is more, he was required to do that. A people pleaser, an entertainer…I was no longer pleased, nor entertained, though. 

I knew what I signed up for when we started seeing each other. Granted, I didn’t know who he was – or what he was – when we first met in that rally more than three years ago. He was just a beautiful boy with the eyes of a winking doll and a golden halo bouncing around his head. In a crowd of other nameless, faceless and anonymous people, he exuded blinding light. Am I too sentimental? If you were there, you’d surely understand. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. After staring at him for at least fifteen minutes, I dared to lift my camera up to take a picture just as the wind blew a few disheveled locks into his face. He immediately noticed. His brows furrowed and his eyes squinted at me, but they were warm and I could tell he was smiling behind his mask, even though apprehensively. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” “Why did you do that?” If I had thought that it couldn’t get any worse, I was sorely mistaken. The sultry voice that came from behind that black piece of cloth didn’t match his overall appearance. It made my dick twitch though, and I had to hear it again, so I decided to come clear about it, because he was already turning away again, not really interested in my answer. As if having his pictures taken was something that happened everyday. Yeah, as if. But…

Believe it or not, I just told him I thought he was beautiful. Right there on that street. I don’t normally do shit like that. To this day, I still don’t understand what got into me. It was blunt and impudent and no doubt a bit weird, and I expected him to tell me to fuck off. 

But instead, he blushed. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” 

I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if he was just playing along. Or even mocking me. But I had to seize the opportunity by the hair. “I’m Tom.” What else to say, right?

“Josh.”

That’s it. That’s how Tom met Josh. We talked a lot that day. He was cute and funny and I just couldn’t get enough of that voice, which is never a good sign. You shouldn’t let yourself get addicted to people. It’s dangerous and he was very addictive. Later that day, when we left the crowd behind and he put the mask down to reveal his full, rosy lips, I should have run. But I didn’t. I let him use those lips to chain me to him just as they enveloped my dick.

Since then, there was not one single day when I wouldn’t think about that mouth. It only got worse when that sleepy pout became the first thing I saw almost every time I opened my eyes in the morning during that summer. Our relationship started as a strictly sexual one, not because we wanted it that way, but simply because arousal and excitement came first, and there was nothing else to do. We skipped dating and dived head first in the sheets. The world had slowed down, the future looked hazy, and we were just bored. OK, I admit, I was bored. His life wasn’t boring at all. Not even then. I got sucked into it pretty soon (pun absolutely intended). He made me fall for him before we even realized what was happening, and it was brutally intense. And it was also mutual. 

I soon learned what it really meant to be part of that world. Our secret summer of love ended and reality hit. I went completely offline, partly because I was not interested in being hunted down by hysterical chicks, but mostly because he didn’t want them to know. You know what I mean. I didn’t really care that much myself, but I also understood. 

If you’re into traveling, and if you ever followed @tomontheroad on Instagram and wondered why it just vanished one day, wonder no more. Yes, it was me. You probably didn’t even notice though, because in late 2020, it had already been dead for months anyway. 

That’s just how it was. To keep the life we shared safe, I became an invisible nobody, which made it almost impossible for me to do my job, but I somehow managed. Meanwhile, he was there in the spotlight, adored by thousands, making their pussies and dreams wet. I was never to be seen. I agreed to all that, gladly, even though it was gradually getting worse. They started touring again, and that was when I saw his full potential, wrapped in velvet. He was their Pied Piper, playing his flute just as he played his vocals. I still didn’t mind. It was all worth it. I thought it was, at least. As soon as we closed the doors behind us, a brand new universe opened before me. Behind the closed doors, I was a traveler again, a tireless explorer. Every inch and every curve of his body was a land full of miracles and pleasures. A wondrous landscape. Every valley, a new home for me. Every peak, a place that revealed brand new horizons. Who needed tropical white sands when his warm skin was the perfect place to lay your head, the sound of his heart more calming than the humming of sea waves. I simply loved him. 

I learned to live with the fact that I had a boyfriend that hundreds of people wanted to fuck, but it was me who actually did. They were mere voyeurs, standing outside the shopping window, ogling hungrily all the delicious desserts on display, which only I had the privilege to taste. I kept telling myself that I was the lucky one. 

And you know what? That’s complete and utter bullshit. I keep doing this to myself. Lying to myself. I hadn’t learned to live with it at all. Granted, we had these conversations before, and all of them ended with me telling him it was fine. Everything was fine. I spent nearly two fucking years trying to convince myself that I was completely ok with all of this and just this evening I realized how much it was really bothering me. 

Today he crossed the fucking line. The feeling that lurked somewhere in the back of my mind now reared its ugly head and I felt like I reached my limits. 

I said I was there for the show. I actually never really get to see it, because I myself can’t be seen. It had been months since I last watched their concert and this past week I just waited for him in the green room. But tonight he insisted that I be there. I finally agreed, even though it really meant just lurking by the side, under the stage level with the staff, watching what was going on onstage on the monitor with Steve who’s in charge of big screens. 

The camera loved him. And he loved it back, losing himself in the moment as he got high on the music they made. The audience was losing it too, screaming in frenzy because he made them feral. It all looked just like one big orgy. I had seen it many times before, that’s why I didn’t really want to be there, but I still couldn’t get my eyes off that screen. I was very familiar with all those faces he made. I had heard those moans before, I had watched him arch his back just like that before, the way he bit his lip, how his brows furrowed… I could tell he got bolder with it over time. I was mesmerized, but there was one big problem. The whole arena was watching this with me now, equally enchanted, but he was interacting with them and I felt unwelcome. I had seen some pictures, watched two or three shorts, but nothing could prepare me for this. 

He ran down the stage a few times that evening, waved at me the first time, blew me a kiss a moment later, but as the evening progressed, I suddenly felt like losing him. It was an unwelcome surge of panic and just when I thought I got it under control, he ran past me and the next thing I saw on the screen was him right at the barricade, letting himself be hugged and groped by all those random people. I had enough. I couldn’t breathe. I excused myself and ran to the green room to pour myself a generous amount of whiskey. 

Fast forward back to where we were, in the car on our way back to the hotel. “Not here,” I retorted. “Later.” The rest of the ride was tense. He kept looking sideways at me, I kept being extremely absorbed in examining the hem of my shirt. As soon as the door of our shared apartment closed behind us, he confronted me. 

“So, we’re here. Care to explain why you’ve been behaving like such an insufferable bitch tonight?”

“Oh that’s rich, Joshua. By all means feel free to make it aaaall about my behavior again. Nothing wrong with you acting like an insolent and inconsiderate slut!” 

“Inconsiderate…” He looked as if I just punched him. 

“Yes!” I hissed, “inconsiderate! You know, it’s funny how you find this worth reacting…but not the fact that I just called you a slut.”

He just laughed and shook his head in disbelief as he headed straight to the minibar to pour  himself a drink. “Well,” he trilled, “you didn’t shake the bitch allegations either, my love. At least I’m fun to be around.” 

I just huffed and went towards the balcony to open the glass door. I really needed some fresh air. “Yeah, I’m not amused. But you don’t seem to mind. You were having a really good time there, with their hideous, overlong nails scratching your tits. Or when you were moaning into the microphone, almost pretending that you were fucking them all.” With that, I collapsed on the couch. 

“So what do you want me to do to amuse you? You want me to fuck you? Let’s fuck in earnest, no pretending.  Will that make it better? Do you want me to show you what and who I’m REALLY thinking about when their nails scratch my skin?”

“No Josh, you fucking me wouldn’t really sort out anything I’m afraid, because right now I feel like you’re fucking with me all the fucking time. I want to claim you, because I love the way you’re looking at me when I’m deep inside you and when you have to bite your lower lip just to stop it from quivering, you know. Not only because I really, really love that sight, but also because only then I feel like I’m the only person on your radar. And that’s what I need now.”

He watched me avidly, with his head slightly tilted and his expression almost unreadable, except for the obvious arousal that was silently flowing through his whole body, and I swear you could see it glimmering behind his pupils. I definitely could see it in his tight pants. I would lie if I said that I wasn’t aroused. Truth be told, I needed to fuck him, badly. We could continue bitching about each other’s behavior later. For now, angry fuck would do…

He put his glass down and slowly took off his sun jacket, all without breaking eye contact. It was like watching him in slow motion, when he palmed his hardening dick through the white satin, squeezed it briefly and then stroked it gently a few times. He loved this. He was a born entertainer, always ready to please the audience. I couldn’t help but admire the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. I was his audience now, and I had to admit to myself that this was a completely different show. 

“Ok, that’s convenient, because I’d really love you to finish what I started.” 

I had no clue what he was talking about and watched him – flabbergasted – as he turned around, pulled his pants down and bent over to unfasten the cuffs around his ankles. That’s when I saw it. A little sparkly gem between his buttcheeks. I recognised the tiny steel buttplug with a faceted stone immediately, even though we hadn’t used it much. I gave it to him for Christmas, and later he joked that it really fit the Starcatcher aesthetics, so maybe he should wear it with the rest of his jewelry, but I didn’t really expect him to actually do it!

“Josh…did you have it in for the whole show?” I tried to keep it cool, but the words only came out as a breathy whisper. He only chuckled and stretched like a cat to relieve his stiff muscles. He was still acting, completely naked now, exaggerating every move just to torture me. 

“No, darling. I wanted to, but they would have seen it under the jumpsuit. It’s quite tight, isn’t it. No, I put it in for es-tee-tee. Colors, gems and trim, darling. Now, let’s take a shower first. And close your mouth, or else I’ll fill it.” And with that he strutted into the bathroom without even waiting for me, shaking that tiny bejeweled ass just for the show. He knew that I would follow. He already had me in his grasp, metaphorically speaking. 

We often showered together. That was our personal habit, both at home or when I accompanied him on his travels. It was always our sweet moment of seclusion in his otherwise busy schedule. Very intimate, but not always blatantly sexual. Of course, sometimes it WAS blatantly sexual, but oftentimes we just talked a lot, kissed a lot, washed each other’s hair, just took care of each other. Just tracing my fingers down his spine was enough to help me forget about the gloomy world beyond our walls. Not to mention being inside his walls, but I digress…

I took my time. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of following him like a pet dog, so I stripped slowly, took a few more sips of my drink and walked indolently into the bathroom. Just for the show. I expected him to wait for me by the counter, but he didn’t. He was already in the shower, steam already filling the room. I slid the glass door open and started. He was standing there, right under the stream, facing the door, his eyes boring into me. He was quite a sight, too. Not having bothered with the stage makeup, the streaks of smudged eyeliner were now running down his cheeks, over the remaining rhinestones. Wet hair already flattened and pulled back. This was intentional. He was still provoking me. 

We just observed each other warily before he broke the silence and asked me nonchalantly if I could just wash his back. I gestured to him to turn around and did as he asked. I poured the vanilla-scented body wash in my hands and soaped his body with it, just like I always did. And just like he always did, he started talking about the events of the day. Some tiktok video they filmed after the soundcheck that I didn’t care about. 

His tone was completely casual, in spite of the fact that I held his balls firmly in my hand, gently massaging them with my soap-covered hand. I let my other hand travel slowly down his left buttcheek towards that little surprise he had there for me previously. 

“So tell me, Josh. Why this?” 

I watched him smile at the question. His previous restlessness suddenly made perfect sense. The whole time I was sulking and worrying about us, about his behavior and his intentions, he was just getting himself off. I took the bejeweled plug in my fingers and twisted it gently. He arched his back and moaned softly. I just loved listening to him. His lovely mouth could elicit the most delicious high-pitched whimpers. So I did it again. This time, his head landed on my shoulder, exposing his neck to me. I let my nose brush against my favorite place right under his earlobe. This was dangerous territory. Everytime I let myself wander through the smooth valleys of his lithe body, I was close to losing my mind, and he knew it. He was narcotic. Normally, it just meant that earth-shattering sex would follow, but I needed to stay focused, because I had to resolve this first: “Fucking tell me, Josh,” I hissed.

“I…I like to keep myself perked up, my love. I can’t go onstage…oh, yes, thee-e-e-ere…I can’t go onstage drunk, or high…dammit…that would, aaah would be unprofessional, yeah?” He chuckled.  “So I just keep myself turned-on instead. It’s good for the show.”

“For the show, eh? You’re a liar.”

“No…no-ah, I’m not lying, dear. I keep myself turned on…and when I feel the rhythm in my bones and when I let the… the melody soar through my veins, I imagine your dick inside me. Or your fingers. Aaaall because they lo-oooh-love seeing me like that. So you see, it’s good for the show. They can feel it. Our love. Just…genuine…love. The feeling is omnipresent…and I want to share it.”

The insolence! “You see Josh, that’s the problem,” I whispered while my teeth grazed his jugular, “I don’t want to share it.”

With that, he turned around and kissed me gently, letting the tip of his tongue just brush against mine. With his left hand stroking the nape of my neck, his right palm slowly wandered down my torso, fingertips lightly grazing my left nipple, and further down, until he had me in his grasp, now literally speaking. I fell under his spell again, utterly and completely, and I no longer wanted to fight it. I had to remind myself that tonight was supposed to be my night, that I was supposed to be in control, but I was slowly losing it anyway. He sensed it, and generously put me back on track, while still jerking me off. 

“Honey, this is us. This is just us. I share the miracle, you see? That’s my job. But you don’t share me with anyone. You own me!” 

Oh yeah, that worked. His words felt like a detonator. Perhaps more than he had intended them to. I’m sure they were partly meant to soothe me, but something really snapped in me and all those pent-up emotions suddenly begged to be released. I lost all my remaining mental clarity and acted upon it without really thinking. I pushed him against the wall and firmly wrapped my hand around his throat. His head hit the tiles with a dull thud and even though my own actions took me by surprise and I saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes, I couldn’t stop. I kept him pinned to the wall with my thigh pushing his legs apart. He belonged to me, and I needed him to understand it.

I’m not the world’s strongest man, but I’m bigger than him. Three inches taller, and I could overpower him without much difficulty. That’s why I had always been rather gentle with him, even though he’s a hotheaded bastard and always fights back like a mad chihuahua. Not this time. He just watched me with those doe-like eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, while his hands just rested on my chest. I barely felt the touch. He was a meek lamb, a rag doll, but his face told me a different story. I could see his previously bewildered expression transform into a defiant one. He tilted his chin up, nostrils flared. He was daring me, breathing heavily and waiting for my next move.  

“Damn right I do! Fuck, you’re mine,” I growled and tightened my grip on his neck, while my other hand kneaded his left buttock.  

He whimpered and I recognized the sound. I’d heard it many times before. Everytime I pounded into him with feral force, when I pulled his hair, or when I smacked his ass, because that was the only part of his body I ever dared to leave a mark on. 

“You like this, you little fucker.”

He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly through his nose. I could feel his semi spring up and twitch against my thigh. I could tell just by his fingertips now clawing at my chest that he really did. But I needed to hear it. 

“Answer me!” 

“Yeah,” he finally breathed out and our eyes met again. 

We were both very sensual people, but never overly violent with each other. It’s not that the idea never crossed my mind, because I really like rough fuck. Sue me. I’d had my fair share of “tough love” during the time spent with my previous lovers. Truth be told, he was often pushing my buttons, and it took all my willpower not to act. All smiles and sunshine on the outside, he could be an insufferable brat sometimes. I just always had to remind myself that I couldn’t leave a mark, even though his own nails frequently branded me with scratches. But that was it. It was part of the deal. I treated him like my pampered darling, even at times when I just had to shut him up with a gag… some occassional BD sans SM, that’s how we rolled. It just occurred to me that treating him like that might have been a mistake. I just had to make sure that he was really agreeing to this.

I let go of his neck and let my fingers travel up his jaw and into his wet hair, all without breaking eye contact. We were watching each other intently, trying to communicate without words, searching for clues. I cradled his head in my hands, my fingers massaging the back of his head. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. 

“Does it hurt?” 

He shook his head silently. I placed a trail of short kisses up his neck until I reached his earlobe and nibbled on it gently. I felt him pull me closer to him as he pressed his fingertips convulsively into the flesh on my hips until it almost hurt.

“Are you ok?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded and rubbed his nose against my cheek. A brief moment of tenderness was exactly what we both needed to reassess our position. Now it was the time to remind him of his role…

“Fine, on your knees!” I pushed him down, perhaps with not enough force, because it did not wipe that defiant look off his face, but I was well aware of the fact that he also still had that thing deep inside him. I was pumped, but not reckless. He was now kneeling right under the shower stream, small rivulets of water running down his face as he looked up at me, blinking. I had to take a deep breath not to cum just from the sight.  

“Open your mouth.”

…and he didn’t. Because he knew. That dastardly sneer of his is going to be the end of me one day, but I usually tolerate it. Not only because it’s hot as fuck, but also because it tells me he knows what I need. Or better yet, what he makes me need…and crave. I certainly hadn’t known that I needed my head to be treated like a lollypop until he taught me it was what I craved. Parting his lips ever so slightly, it just rested on them until he darted his tongue out into the slit, savoring every little drop of my precum. He had this habit of looking up at me when he was doing this, because he knew it was driving me crazy. 

So that’s what he was doing. Licking at my glans, watching me, daringly. I wasn’t having it. Enough of this game. I grabbed his head and buried my cock in the back of his throat. He gagged on it violently, darting his head backwards. I was still holding his head in both of my hands, though, and pushed him back, fucking his mouth in ferocious speed until he tapped on my thigh. Only then I released my grasp, watching him gasp for air. He looked up at me again, and whispered: “More.” 

And more he got. Oh god, that was so sexy, him literally begging me to choke him with my dick. I adjusted my pace, sliding in and out of those full, swollen lips. Grabbing my butt with both his hands, he urged me to go deeper, to fill him up, to obstruct his airway passage again. He tried to relax, letting my cock glide smoothly on his velvet tongue. I was getting close, dangerously close, but I wasn’t done with him yet. His mouth was perfect, but I needed more. 

Before I stopped, I grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pushed him down my shaft and held him there for a while, until I felt his throat contract and his body convulsed. Another gag, another gasp. I let go and tilted his chin up lightly with my index finger. The running water quickly washed away the thick strings of saliva and the tears, but he still looked a mess, exhausted and tamed. He was also very hard, his eyes not the only thing looking at me. He loved this. A wave of tenderness washed over me again. Damn, it was always like this with him. A real rollercoaster of feelings. 

“Come here, my filthy princess.” 

I grabbed him by the arms, pushed him up on his feet again and pulled him into a tight embrace. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine, deep breaths interspersed with intermittent, barely audible chuckles. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Not funny, just…exhilarating.” 

My good boy. He deserved a reward. I bowed down and ran a few circles around his hardened nipple with the tip of my tongue, because he loved that. You might think I’m too soft, but this is what makes the experience really intense. I was still pissed, and full of adrenaline, but it was all because I loved him so much, and I needed him to feel it all. I ran my fingers down his spine, scratching his skin with my nails, perhaps more than necessary. But it was necessary. With the actual words still stuck in my throat, the touch was my language now. He looked at me again with a sweet smile, the tip of his tongue grazing his upper lip.

“So…now that it’s settled and I promise to be good, are you going to do that thing, darling?”

“That thing” meant me sucking his dick with my fingers knuckles deep in his ass. “Yeah, baby, you’ve earned it,” I stroked his cheek with my right hand while the left one traveled down right between his asscheeks...”let’s pull this out, then?” He nodded and turned around, resting his elbows against the tiles. It was my turn to get down on my knees. Yeah, I hear you, not very dominant of me, but you need to understand that this man has got the most fabulous ass I’ve ever seen, and I swear I’m gonna kiss and bite and spread and lick it any time I get the opportunity to do so. 

I put some shower gel on my fingers and circled them around the plug. “Try to relax.”

“I know,” he spat impatiently through his teeth. That earned him a smack on his right buttock. Brat. I pulled the plug out gently, eliciting a long, breathy and relieved moan from him. I massaged the opening a bit, washing the rest of the soap out, before I grabbed him with both hands to spread him a bit more for me. What a glorious view. I buried my face in it and darted my tongue out. 

“Oh god,” he breathed out as I licked into him. 

The flowing water was starting to get on my nerves so I turned it off before I turned him around to face me. It was now my turn to taste his leaking tip. A few swift cat licks made him clutch at my shoulders tight and he almost lost his balance when I swallowed him whole. I reached behind him and gently pushed my middle finger inside him while my head bobbed up and down his dick. I pushed my finger deeper, curled it towards me and set a steady rhythm of my movements. 

His breath suddenly quickened and I could feel him pulsate on my tongue. It was a matter of mere seconds. No. I stopped, retreated abruptly and stood up. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he was gaping at me in disbelief. I just smiled at him maliciously. He thought he could play with me, so let’s make this a shared experience. 

“What the hell?!?” My plan worked perfectly. He practically shouted it at me. He was furious. Cute. 

“I haven’t come yet, so what on earth made you think that I would let YOU, “ I smirked.

“Fuck you!” he pushed me aside forcefully and stormed out of the shower, heading back into the bedroom. Dripping wet, he slipped on the floor and almost fell, which gave me more time to react. 

I ran after him. “Hey, where the fuck are yo…ouch!” The fucker slammed the bathroom door right in my face. I threw it open again with force, triyng to catch him. He was just by the bed when I reached out for his hair and yanked him back, making his back collide with my chest. “Ouch, that hurt, you bastard!” he yelled as he tried to break free from my grasp, squirming, but he stood no chance. 

“Do you want me to stop?” I hissed in his ear. 

“No…” Good. I pushed him face down on the bed, grabbed his wrists and held them firmly behind his back. I needed him to stay that way, so I searched the ground for something I could use. My eyes spotted a bathrobe that I tossed over the armchair earlier that day. Perfect. “Don’t move!” I got off him for a while to get what I needed. He looked over his shoulder, watching me as I pulled the belt out of the loops. He didn’t move, lying face down by the edge of the bed, ass up. My obedient baby.

I grabbed his wrists again and showed him the belt, making it obvious what I was going to do. “You ok with this?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

I nodded, tied his wrists behind his back and went searching for the lube. “I’m going to fuck you now, and I’m not going to be gentle about it. If it becomes too much, or you just want me to stop, just say stop. Do you understand?

“Yes.” 

“Fine. Oh, here it is.” I squeezed a generous amount of the lube on my fingers and put two of them to his asshole, rubbing it in circles before I pushed them in slowly. He was already almost ready from before, but I needed him to relax a bit more. “Now listen, I will let you cum this time. No monkey business. But I want the same from you. If you wanna cum, you’re going to behave. You’re going to beg for it. Understand?” I added a third finger and he whimpered and bit his lip, huffing. I was getting impatient. “Do-you-under-stand!?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yes, I understand. Fuck me please. I’ll behave.”

I withdrew, slapped his butt, rubbed the remaining lube all over my cock, positioned myself and… pushed in. I had to focus all of my self-control on not pushing all the way in. He was so tight and warm and inviting, and I was all worked-up. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but I just couldn’t get enough of it at the same time. His quick and shallow breaths told me that he felt pretty much the same. After several languid thrusts during which we both somehow managed to regain our composure and I quickened my pace. I grabbed his bound wrists in one hand and held his head down with the other. The room was filled with our synched moans and the slapping sound of our flesh colliding. I couldn’t get enough of him.

I grabbed his ass and slammed into him with full force. He cried out and begged me for more. His profile was absolutely entrancing, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open, his melodic whines in sync with my thrusts. I needed to see more of it, so I unbound his wrists, pulled out and turned him over. 

I grabbed his ankles instead and forced his legs up, before I buried myself in him again. My heart was beating wildly. I felt the poisonous cocktail of all the previously suppressed and boiling emotions fill my veins as the pleasure overcame my senses. “Look at me!” He watched me, bewildered, while I rammed into him, sweaty and almost out of breath. Suddenly all I could hear were my own labored grunts, while he just stared at me, wide-eyed and speechless. 

“Cat got your tongue, hm? Always so…eloquent…with…them all…but not one…spare word…for your dirty little secret!” 

Adrenaline running in my veins, I continued pounding into him and almost missed the sudden shift in his mood and movements. 

“Tom…”

It was barely a whisper at first, but soon he became more and more agitated. “Tom…Tom, please. TOM! Hold on…stop…”

His face twisted in clear discomfort and his hands were clawing at my chest. I pulled out carefully. “What happened Josh? Did I hurt you?”

“No…no, m’fine. S’just a bit overwhelming, is all,” he mumbled. “Can you kiss me?”

I let his legs slide down my shoulders, leaned down and softly brushed my lips with his. I was confused, but also desperate to make this better, whatever it was. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and tried to make him look at me, but his eyes scanned the ceiling erratically and he blinked several times as he obviously tried to fight back the tears. But I could see that his eyes were already red. Now it was my turn to start panicking. Was he afraid of me? “Josh! Josh, honey, please, look at me. Are you hurt?” He shook his head and sobbed. Then his eyes finally met mine: “No, I’m alright. It’s just…please, don’t hate me Tom. I can’t stand you hating me. I was just trying to protect you.” 

The realization that hit him a minute ago now backfired back to me. And just like that my heart shattered into millions of microscopic pieces. I searched his face for more answers, those big, tearful eyes staring back at me. I stroked his hair tentatively. All the previous tension and anger dissolved and he was my sunshine boy again, but these were mere pale winter beams, and it was my fault, and the realization chilled me to my bones. He was weeping silently under me, obscured by my clouds. 

I moved slowly from between his legs and pulled him up into my embrace. He was reluctant at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around me. We just sat there for a while, cradling each other.  “I could never…,” I whispered against the damp skin right above his collarbone. “I’m just a terrible, jealous guy.”

“No, I made you jealous. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t realize…”

He couldn’t have. He’s the one who always lets his feelings pour out of him. I’ve always struggled with this. Not that I didn’t want to tell what was bothering me, I just couldn’t translate the whirlwind of my thoughts into coherent sentences. Just tell me what’s wrong, Tom. My previous lovers often lost patience with me. They always thought I didn’t want to talk and then our arguments ended with them giving up on me. Not him. He tried to make me laugh, he tried to make me yell, he tried to seduce me and he let me take all of him. I held him tight. I couldn’t let go. I was on the verge of tears, but it was him who needed comfort. I just hoped that I could give it to him. It was him who finally broke the silence. 

“Tom…” It was barely a whisper. 

“Yes?”

“I just hope you know I love you.” 

I finally loosened the embrace to look at him. My mouth was dry and my throat felt constricted, but I somehow managed to force out at least a weak “I do.” But that wasn’t enough. I knew I needed to say more: “…yes, baby, you’ve been telling me…I’m sorry,” I croaked. He took a deep breath and continued. 

“But hearing is not the same as feeling it…and,” he cleared his throat,”...and sometimes I need to feel it too. Sometimes it feels like you’re not even present. In your secret hiding place behind a thick wall and I just can’t get in!”

I buried my face in my hands. I needed a minute to process the evening’s events. “So, you seek it elsewhere?” I regretted those words almost instantly, but at least I finally forced myself to speak. 

“What do you mean? God, no!”

“No, not like that. I mean all those people, the plug. You didn’t really expl…” 

“I already told you! I wanted to share what we have.”

“By letting them touch you…”

“Cut it already!” He slapped the mattress, furious once again. “Yes, maybe you’re right…to a certain extent,” he spat out at me. “Yes, I let them touch me. I share a lot with people. It’s fulfilling and it feels natural. But it’s a different kind of love. And they understand. They didn’t grab at me, no one tried to pull me in. I share a lot with them but I don’t belong to them. But I agree with you that it's very personal. I thought about doing that for quite a while, but couldn’t find the courage to do so…unless I felt you there with me. I do miss you there. Sometimes I just miss you… anyway, about the plug…I guess today felt like a perfect day to try it. Please just tell me you understand, because I’m getting really sick of this.”

The plug was a gift from me, so yeah, I understood…kind of. Touch is important to him. But... “But why today?”

“Oh Tom,” he was tearful again. “Oh, fuck you. Really. It’s exactly three years since the day you first told me that you loved me.”

I just stared at him for a while, speechless. Then I finally lost it and started crying. “I’m a terrible person.” I felt like shit, I treated him like shit and really deserved to get a taste of my own medicine, in one way or another. But Josh is not like that. He doesn’t do that. And so it was now his turn to hug me, even though I tried to back away at first. But he’s stubborn, too. “You know, Tom, I felt it today. Among other things…”

“Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive. I understand.”

“No, you don’t... Listen Josh, I don’t need you to protect me. If anything, it should be the other way round. But I do need to feel like I belong in your life. I…I’m not sure I could continue like this.” 

Here, I finally said that. I had been afraid to utter those words aloud, because I knew they were dangerous. I expected another argument to follow, and maybe it would be the last one this time. But he only sighed and I felt him nod lightly against my shoulder. “I guess we need to make some inevitable changes then.”

I knew what he meant, but this was not just about me. And it was not just me who he’d been trying to protect. Himself, too, but also others in a way…

“Are you ready to make those changes?”

“I guess so…” 

We looked each other in the eye once more, trying to communicate the rest. At last I stood up and offered him my hand. “Come on, let me fix you a nice, hot bath.”

“No.” He took it but didn’t move. Instead, he tried to pull me back to bed. 

“No?” “No Tom, come back here, please. Make love to me.” 

He was sooo good at playing with my heartstrings. He really wanted me. He still trusted me. And from the look on his face, he needed me. I climbed back to him, took his face in my hands and kissed it. I traced my parted lips across his cheek and down to his jaw. He was like the oxygen I needed in order to stay alive and I was breathing him in. I continued upwards until our lips finally locked together. It was the first genuine kiss we shared that evening. 

How…?

“Spoon me.” As he lay down, I retrieved the previously discarded tube from the floor, lubed my fingers and cock once again and snuggled behind him. I didn’t rush it, and repeated the process once more that evening. I was nothing but tender this time, but he thought otherwise. He took my hand that was stroking his bare chest, placed it on his neck and tilted his head back. “Choke me.”

“Josh, I…you…” “Shhh, just do it. Please.” And I did. I wrapped my fingers around his throat and pulled him firmly back towards me. It wasn’t harsh. He let himself be completely vulnerable with me and I wanted to cherish it. I just rested my hand there, holding him firmly, but not with too much pressure. I could feel his pulse beating against my palm, every intake of breath. This was different than before. A moment of raw intimacy. He arched his back and reached behind to grab the back of my head. He knows I like that. I rewarded him with slow and deep thrusts, just how he loves it. He was moaning melodically to the rhythm, singing a secret song just for me now, and we rocked in tandem slowly, meeting each other halfway. Nothing else was necessary, this was everything. 

I took control again soon. Quickening my pace, I thrusted into him with a frantic urge. Goosebumps appeared all over his skin, which told me that he was very close. He always got shivers when he was approaching orgasm while I fucked him. Almost as if he was feverish. “Maddening ecstasy” – those were his words with which he once described it. I could feel him tense and tighten around me and rolled my hips once more to hit that perfect spot. “Oh my ggggnnnh Toooooohmmm….,” he let out a high pitched scream and came hard, his whole body convulsing. 

He was literally sobbing. I slowed my movements to a near stop and held his shivering body tight in my arms, waiting for his breathing to slow down. I was just about to pull out when he started moving again against me, urging me to continue, but I grabbed his hip and made him stop. He looked up at me, frowning. “What?” “Are you sure? It’s been a long night…” “No, Tom, don’t worry…come on, go on.”

I moved again tentatively, looking for any clue of his discomfort. He encouraged me again and I gradually resumed my pace. It didn’t take long. With a final groan, I buried my face in his hair, holding his now almost limp and exhausted body pressed to mine while I threshed about in an almost comical way, keeping him swaying in unison with me. We shifted a bit so that he was lying  on his belly now, me hovering above him. With the last few erratic thrusts I filled him up and we finally collapsed together into the pillows. 

We barely moved for at least another ten minutes, limbs still intertwined, eyes closed and our torsos literally glued together with sweat. Both of us simply wanted to prolong the moment, but I was slowly becoming aware of the world around us. We had left the glass door leading to the balcony open and the evening breeze finally pulled us back to reality. 

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I think a few people might have overheard us.” “Uh huh…ok…good.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Love sticks, sweat drips Break the lock if it don't fit A kick in the teeth is good for some A kiss with a fist is better than none (Florence and the Machine)

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