#Note that despite posting the fic over the course of about a month it actually took me 7 months to finish.

[wonysugar]

close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable. 

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however, 

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect. 

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face. 

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again. 

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing. 

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her. 

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip. 

plus, her panties were wet. 

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down. 

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger. 

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her. 

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation. 

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment. 

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair. 

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?” 

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?” 

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs after changing. 

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“…wanna bake brownies in a bit?” 

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

[kimberbohwrites]

IT'S HERE -- SPECIAL TWO CHAPTER RELASE Hope for the Gate Chapters One and Two Word Count: 6,089 Rated: Explicit -- MDNI! READ ON AO3 (or continued below)

CHAPTER THREE> Please don't forget to kudos/comment/like/reblog <3 Rolan x Tav art by @ ORANGEKITTYENERGY on tumblr

Summary: Eight months after the events of 'All I Wanted' (my first Rolan x Tav fic [see series]), Tav and Rolan’s relationship is tested by tragedy and turmoil. There will be drama, romance, political intrigue, action, and of course — smut. Is our favorite tiefling strong enough to handle it all and hold on to the girl? Tags/Warnings: Rolan (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate). Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings. Porn With Plot, Tiefling Biology (Dungeons & Dragons), Tieflings (Dungeons & Dragons), Rolan in Rut, Anti-Tiefling Racism (Dungeons & Dragons), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Eventual Smut

A cool breeze drifted in through the opened window in his study, and Rolan steadied the scrolls on his desk before him with a groan. On the wind came the sweet smell of flowers that now grew in the boxes outside his office windows. Tav had installed them here and outside the bedroom and kitchen windows. He’d designed garden beds for the large terraces around the tower for her to work in as well.

She called them “Sylvanus’ Blessings” the flowers, fruits, vegetables, herbs, and other plant life that she thrived on sustaining. He wasn’t sure about all of that — but what he did know was that Tav loved them and he loved Tav. The breath still caught in his chest most mornings when he awoke and saw her face still asleep in the bed they shared. He still couldn’t believe she was his. Nearly each night when they slept in the same bed it would be at Ramazith Tower where they both had obligations and responsibilities. Some nights they watched the stars go down in the solemn little clearing in the woods where Tav’s homestead blossomed. The nights he hated were the ones where they slept apart. Luckily, they were few and far between now that he’d improved a more permanent portal between the Tower and her home in the woods outside the city. For that, Rolan was grateful. 

Tav’s presence in his life is a blessing and one he is still fighting to fully understand. How the most beautiful woman he had ever known could actually love him was still a question that nagged at the back of his mind. Despite his lingering fears, he’d managed not to mess up things with Tav since they’d made things official. It had been nearly 8 months since the night of Astarion and Gale’s wedding, since they’d confessed their love and agreed to work through their challenges and be together.

The bracelet he’d given her which could portal two people between the two locations was no longer necessary. He noted that she still wore it everyday and he barely managed to hide his moon-eyed smile every time he saw it on her wrist. While the red stones had originally been picked to match the dress she’d worn the night of that fateful wedding, he’d come to think of it differently over time. Deep down, he now felt a sense of possessive pride that the red bracelet against her wrist so closely resembled those moments when his tail coiled around the same spot. Something he took great pleasure in doing as he kissed her and as he took her desperately on the nights where he felt that possessiveness arise in him once more. When his self doubt was the loudest.

It’s almost strange how well she fit into his life and the lives of his siblings — Cal and Lia. They’d always been content as a trio and he’d often worried about how difficult things might be when that dynamic changed. But Tav’s closeness with them had eased his fears and only served to make him love her even more. Tav had already been close with Lia,  they were truly the best of friends and often co-conspirators in various schemes and plans. To Cal, Tav had become something of another big sister. Only partially to Rolan’s chagrin as Cal already seemed to hold Tav’s opinion in higher regard than his own.

It has always made him uneasy, the idea of introducing a new dynamic into their lives. He had been responsible for Cal and Lia since their mother’s passing and while he’d done his best by them, he understood that he couldn’t be their only family forever. He’d always believed it would be Cal or Lia adding someone to their group that he would inevitably hate. He’d been partially right in that regard, Lia had started seeing Dammon just before Tav and him had gotten together. But Dammon had always been a part of their lives, since they’d grown up in Elturel. The blacksmith had gone by a different name then, one they’d all long since forgotten.

Sure, having Dammon now dating his sister was new territory but even Rolan had to admit that Dammon was a good man. Bringing Tav into the fold had been something new entirely. Not because Tav wasn’t good, in fact Tav was almost too good. It was an undeniable truth that the three of them would most likely be dead if not for her. Hells, Dammon too. It was her who convinced them to stay with the rest of the refugees on the road, who had rescued his siblings from Moonrise Towers and him from himself, and Tav who had helped overthrow the former master of Ramazith Tower after she discovered his many transgressions and abuses of power.

Of course any time he had attempted to point out her many contributions, she waved it off or pointed out how Rolan was also the hero in their story. He’d actually caught her once, telling a group of children all about how he’d been a hero when the refugees had been cornered by the absolute. She’d caught them, having snuck into the shop to see some magic with their own eyes. Instead of tossing out what most people would see as street urchins, Tav had sat them down and spun a tale of heroism about the Master of Ramazith Tower. That was just who she was.

He’d happened upon it, toward the end of the story when she told the kids how the brave man who had rescued refugee children, then helped overthrow the cruel former Master of the tower.

“But — but I thought the new Master of the tower was grouchy!” One child had interrupted.

“I heard he’s like me!” A little tiefling girl had added with excitement and a swish of her little tail.

Her statement had been met with boos and groans from the other kids and Rolan had almost made a hasty retreat before Tav spotted him. With her radiant smile and an outstretched hand, she had summoned him to her side.

“He is” Tav had said to the Tiefling girl as she put an arm around him warmly and placed a light kiss on his cheek.

The children had scattered away with peals of laughter and other sounds of glee, disgust, and excitement that came from seeing two adults express affection for one another. Even though he had helped raise his siblings, Rolan had never been great with small children and was always nervous in their presence. Meanwhile, Tav seemed to exude a natural warmth and light that children found magnetic.

He snapped back to attention as he noticed himself daydreaming and worrying again instead of focusing on the pile of scrolls in front of him on his desk. Dragging a clawed hand over his face with a groan, he shifted to a more comfortable position in his chair. While things with Tav were great, the pile of responsibilities and anxieties in front of him was ever-growing. Tav had her own troubles as well and his heart was still weighed heavy for her.

Wyll had returned to back to Baldur’s Gate a few tendays after Astarion and Gale’s wedding with the darkest tidings. His fiancé, Karlach had perished in Avernus leaving him in a dark pit of grief. In a stroke of cruelty, the archdevil Zariel had destroyed the plans and the architect behind Karlach’s infernal engine, eliminating their hopes of being able to permanently stabilize the device. Tired of fighting off the inevitable, she’d chosen to return to the mortal plane to allow her engine to combust and her along with it. Wyll had even apologized to them through bleary eyes for not telling them sooner, explaining that she didn’t want anyone else to see her at the end. 

Rolan really only knew Wyll from their brief time at the Druid Grove, but it was clear the man he saw delivering the devastating news to Tav was a shadow of himself at the loss. He couldn’t blame the young noble — at the thought of losing Cal and Lia he’d come undone and tried to drink himself to death. The thought of losing Tav, well, he couldn’t even bear to consider that.

Rolan wasn’t known for his emotional depth, but he’d tried to be there for Tav as she grieved the loss of her dear friend while attempting to also support Wyll. It was just like her to stretch herself so thinly to support everyone around her. She’d done her best to stay strong in the tendays that followed the news of Karlach’s passing. He knew that he couldn’t force her to start the grieving process, but it worried him to see her so eerily okay. After about a dozen days she’d broken down sobbing over the sight of a child with a stuffed bear.

Rolan had held her close as the tears began to fall, whisking her back to the Tower so she might have some privacy. 

He was honored to be the one supporting her, it was a duty he took seriously, trying to remember to place her always above his other responsibilities. It was hard. As Archmage of Ramazith Tower he has his work cut out for him. But he wants to be more than just a great wizard. He wants to be a great brother to his siblings and a great partner to Tav.

And Tav — well she’s already impacted him more than he would like to admit it. He had never found himself caring much about the things and people outside of his immediate circle, until Tav. The world had been a largely cruel place in his repeated experiences. But there was something about the way she cared so profoundly for the world around her that warmed parts of him he thought were long dead. Thus, he found himself listening to Tav’s stories of the refugee’s needs and reading the paper more to stay informed about the city he now called home. Hells, he’d even went with her quite often to deliver the produce she grew into the hands of the Gate’s most vulnerable citizens.

Both he and Tav had thought that with the defeat of the absolute, the death of Archduke Enver Gortash and the reinstalment of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard to leadership of the city, things just might improve. The opposite had proven true. Rolan didn’t understand the politics at play within the city and neither did Tav, but to them it seemed like every one of Duke Ravengard’s best intentions was being undone behind the scenes.

Neither Rolan nor Tav were quite sure how to help. It had only been about 7 months now since Karlach’s passing and Wyll was understandably still grieving. Neither of them wanted to approach him about political matters. Tav had a hard time ignoring the growing signs of what she called “a rot” within the City. Intent to leave Wyll out of things, she had confided her suspicions with Rolan. He’d begged her not act rashly, to include him. In truth, he’d have asked her just to leave it alone but he knew she wouldn’t. 

If that wasn’t enough, things with Cal and Lia were also heavy on his mind. Lia and Dammon had been together for some time now and she was now over at the Forge of the Nine more often than he saw her around the Tower. He was happy for her, he was sure of it — but the change was hard. It made him uneasy as he often found himself anxious about what would happen if she moved out, they’d never lived apart before.

Cal on the other hand was a different stressor completely. While Lia was essentially the General Manager of Sorcerous Sundries, Cal hadn’t been interested in working in the Tower with his siblings. It had been a hard conversation to have, Rolan had been angry at first but in the end he’d understood. Cal’s interest seemed to lie out in nature lately, he’d begun taking the stable portal that Rolan had made for Tav out to her homestead. While Tav was around Tower more, Cal helped to keep up around the farm and he actually seemed to enjoy coming home at the end of the day covered in dirt.

Tav went on about what a natural he was and before long, she paid him to maintain the crops and orchards while she saw more patients at the Tower. When the harvest came, there had been a notably higher crop yield that Tav attributed solely to Cal. He’d had an idea about what to do with the extras and so Lia and Dammon had built him a handsome rolling cart that he pushed around the upper city. With Tav’s blessing, Cal planned to sell the extra fruits, vegetables, and flowers from her farm.

Admittedly, Rolan hadn’t been thrilled about this idea when he’d first heard it. It’s not that he didn’t support Cal in his endeavors— he just worried. Baldur’s Gate had just barely allowed the Tiefling refugees within its walls and there was still a lot of small minded people who called the city home. He wasn’t sure how well a Tiefling selling produce would go over in the upper city.

Worse, it turned out his worries weren’t completely unfounded, for the very first week Cal wasn’t able to sell anything despite his best attempts. Before Rolan could get upset and storm off to the upper city to curse out the first posh person he found, Tav had volunteered to go with Cal the next time he went out. He was sure that having the “Hero of Baldur’s Gate” might help and if it didn’t, it didn’t hurt that Tav was prone to bursting into the form of a massive owlbear when provoked.

He smiled to himself as he thought about the only time he’d ever seen her in that form. He’d assumed the lovely Druid was simply a powerful spellcaster like himself. The unassuming human had always seemed so calm and patient, almost gentle. That was until she pieced together where the bruises and cuts all over his face had come from when they reunited in Baldur’s Gate after surviving Moonrise Towers and Last Light Inn.

Lorroakan had called him “boy” as he shouted his orders and threats to Rolan, during his former master’s fatal attempt at caging the Nightsong and gaining immortality. That had been the very last time the sham of a wizard had used that word. A howling screech had pierced the air and where the mild-mannered Druid had stood just a moment before, there was a full grown and very angry owlbear. Rolan had found himself staring, mouth agape as Tav took a vicious swipe at Lorroakan that had sent the sham of a wizard sprawling across his study.

Yes, Rolan was well aware she could handle herself but he still worried for her. Maybe that’s why he found himself so wistfully lost in thought today. He had felt a little under the weather as of late. Combined with waiting for Cal and Tav to return, it’s left him more distracted than he’d like to admit. But he hadn’t seen anyone running terrified through the streets of the city, so he assumed his beloved had gone unprovoked.

Snapping him out of his thoughts for good, Dammon strolled through the doors of the shop, his eyes searching the familiar space.

“Ah, Dammon! Lia is off at the market, you just missed her!”

“I know, actually, I was hoping to catch you and Tav for a chat, actually.”

“Oh? Well Tav should be back shortly — is everything okay? Is Lia okay?”

Rolan couldn’t help the edge of panic that laced his last question. He also noted how flustered Dammon appeared.

“What? No I mean, yes! Lia’s okay, she’s great”

“Then what’s this about, Dammon?”

Dammon sheepishly looked down, as if the answer to Rolan’s question were written on the floor of the Sundries.

“Well I —“

The laughter and excitement approaching the opened shop doors were the only warning the two men got before Cal excitedly dashed in and up to Rolan. Dammon’s sentence left unfinished, blessedly saved by the interruption.

“It went so well, Rolan! We sold everything for the day!” Cal blurted out with glee.

“And someone met a girl.”

He raised his head from Cal at the sound of his Tav’s sweet voice, she was just walking in the door and coming to stand beside Dammon.

“She’s not a girl! She’s a woman!”

Rolan shook his head at Cal as he walked around him to put his arm around Tav. His tail coiling around her ankle before he was even aware. Lately he couldn’t seem to be close enough to her, like no amount of skin contact would satisfy. It’s not that he wasn’t usually affectionate with her, but in public his affection was careful and calculated whereas lately it seemed almost impulsive, desperate, regardless of the location.

“Although technically, she’s a monk!” Tav laughed as she leaned into Rolan’s touch.

“One thing at a time, please!” Rolan said holding a hand up in defeat.

“Well Dammon was here first,” Tav laughed.

“Alright, I can be patient! Like a monk! I’ll go upstairs and wash up” Cal said as he retreated for the stairs.

Tav moved to leave as well but found his tail still coiled around her leg, with him unaware.

“Would you mind staying? Dammon wanted to talk to you as well,”

“Is that a request or a demand?”

“What? Oh! Sorry!”

It was his turn to blush as she spotted his tail where it was currently latched to her thigh and released his grip. He felt a sweat rise on his brow at the lack of contact with her.

“It’s fine, love, I’m just messing with you. What can we help you with Dammon?”

Tav turned back to the blacksmith who had used the time Cal had unconsciously bought him to steady his heart rate and steel his nerve.

“I was wondering, if we might talk in private? Please?”

Rolan lead them a private office off the main floor of the Sundries and shut the door behind them, trying to shake off the fluttering feeling in his stomach and the heat rising on his face.

Rolan and Tav sat together on a couch while Dammon leaned nervously against the desk. Silence permeated the air.

“What’s this about, Dammon?” Tav said sweetly, clearly sensing the man’s nervous energy.

His answer came out all as one word, blurted in a near-shout to the surprise of everyone in the room, Dammon included.

“IWantToMarryLia!!!”

CHAPTER TWO

“I… I want to marry Lia.” Dammon tried again, calmer and more collected.

When the blacksmith finally got the nerve to check the reactions to his news he found Rolan staring at him, jaw dropped. Tav watched Rolan closely, her eyes anxiously looking between the two men. Silence hung in the air like the smothering heat from an opened oven. Rolan felt the start of sweat forming on his brow and noticed his tail had once again wrapped around Tav’s ankle as if it had a mind of its own. Tav finally broke the silence.

“Dammon that’s great news! Isn’t it Rolan?”

“Why are you telling us!?”

Rolan’s question cut through the air with a sharp edge to it that was unmistakable. Not an angry tone, but certainly an irritable one. He felt Tav’s hand on his shoulder, both a gesture of support and a warning of his temper. He took a deep breath and reached up to touch her hand in acknowledgment.

“Well, I know we’re not in Elturel anymore and there’s not much left of home, but I wanted to be old-fashioned about this. I wanted to talk to her family first.”

Dammon blushed but he held Rolan’s gaze steady as he answered. Tav couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s so sweet! But wait, why am I here?” She asked.

“Well, Rolan is the oldest and you two live together so I thought it made sense to talk to both of—“

“We don’t live together” Tav interrupted.

“We don’t?!”

“You don’t?”

Dammon and Rolan’s responses came at the same time. The former’s was laced with anxiety and confusion and the latter with anger and confusion.

“You think we live together? You never even asked!” Tav snapped at Rolan, momentarily forgetting Dammon.

“I just assumed…”

“Oh Rolan, no.” It was Dammon who groaned the words and reminded them of his presence, wilting a little as both sets of their eyes fixed on him.

“Right, we’ll talk about this later… Dammon that is exciting news!”

Tav’s tone and smile seemed happy but both Dammon and Rolan noted the look of frustration in her eyes.

“Thank you for talking to us Dammon,” Rolan cleared his throat and awkwardly refocused the conversation back to the original topic, “I can hardly believe you’re being old fashioned now, you basically live together and you, erm, bit each other ages ago — could have gone without having to know that by the way but Lia had to put the mark so high on your neck, Gods, I can’t believe this is happening—“

“You’re rambling, Rolan”

Tav’s reminder was both loving and angry sounding at the same time.

“Right. Well, Congratulations are in order I guess.”

Rolan stood and exchanged an uncomfortable handshake with Dammon.

“Be good to her, please.”

Dammon smiled in response, his eyes a little misty. Tav stood next and gave Dammon a tight hug, tears were in both their eyes.

“And yes, do be good to her please. I’ve defeated the avatars of the Dead Three and I know where you live.”

Tav smiled sweetly when she pulled away and issued her threat. The Blacksmith gulped as the Druid made for the door and exited the office without acknowledgement of the other man, leaving the two alone in the cold wake of her exit.

A pain throbbed in Rolan’s side suddenly and he sat back down on the couch, wiping at the sweat on his brow.

“Getting to be that time, brutal,” Dammon said after taking stock of his appearance.

“What?”

“Oh, um, never mind.” Dammon pushed off the desk and made for the door.

“I was going to wait a little longer to ask, I wanted everything to be perfect. So, if both of you could keep a secret — Cal is such a blabbermouth,” He continued as he reached the door, turning back to look at Rolan on the couch he added, “I’ll wait a few weeks, you might need it”

Before Rolan could ask what he’d meant the blacksmith was out of the office with the door shut behind him. By that point a layer of sweat covered his entire body, causing his clothes and hair to cling to him uncomfortably. Another stab of pain throbbed in his gut.

“Fuck” He muttered to himself as the answer materialized before him. What Dammon’s cryptic words had meant and why he’d felt so off lately. It had almost been a year since his last and he and Tav had never talked about his ‘cycles’. He wasn’t even sure she knew about Tiefling mating cycles and he’d been too nervous to ask.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. There was so much to take care of and so little time before he’d be forced to take time off. By the feel of it he had a day at best. Standing with a groan he crossed the room to sit at his desk and pulled leaves of parchment from within the drawer with a well-practiced motion. He began writing notes to each employee of the Sundries with instructions for what to do while he was indisposed. Thanks to his hard work in the just over a year’s time since he’d taken over the Tower and his own instruction, he’d grown much stronger at magic than even he could have anticipated. What used to be complicated was now just a simple spell he would use to deliver the missives at the correct time and place.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- A few hours later, it is Tav who wakes him after drifted off into a feverish sleep at his desk. With the letters and spells completed, he’d begun getting ahead of the higher-level matters that required his attention. The first thing he’d noticed upon waking was her delicious smell. She’d always smelled amazing to him, like cedar and cinnamon, but this was something more. Her eyes are bleary with sadness.

“I’m sorry for just storming off and leaving earlier, I didn’t want to fight.”

“Me either”

“Rolan, you can’t just decide things without telling me. We have to have a conversation about these things”

“I didn’t just decide I simply thought we were living together, we’re always together and I just thought…”

Rolan trailed off with a frustrated sigh. Even as terrible as he was feeling he could see now where he’d missed the important step of asking Tav.

“Zurgan”

He ran his hands down his face, the gesture is one of both frustration and self-soothing.

“Tav I - I’m sorry”

His apology must have come too easy because she is immediately suspicious. Moving to take a closer look at him and bringing her intoxicating scent so close it was nearly unbearable.  His tail swished behind him with agitation.

“You’re sorry?! Are you feeling well? You look terrible, my love. Can I make you a cup of tea?”

He groaned. Zurgan, she smells amazing, she’s so beautiful, focus on her words you dolt. He could actually feel himself salivating in her presence and not over the thought of tea.

“Tea isn’t going to help this, my dear”

She sits down on his desk, next to where he’s working and glances at the discarded drafts of his notes and back to him. Does she know how beautiful she looks? Gods. It’s all he can do not to lunge at her and take her right on his desk.

“Rolan, are you…” She sighs, “Are you in rut?”

His mind is sent reeling in surprise and he makes an audible choking sound. How could she possible know about that?

“What?! How do you even know about that… Lia”

Rolan answers his own question before Tav could even open her mouth. Cursing his sister in silent frustration.

“Yes! But I’m also a healer, remember? Plus, you can hardly blame her. Awhile back, Cal literally vanished for two weeks after coming down quite ill and you acted like he’d gone on vacation. Honestly, I would have been angrier at you for never talking about it with me— but I guess I understand how talking about what your brother might be going through with me would be weird.”

Rolan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Not sure what to say next and grateful when Tav pressed on.

“We should probably finish this whole debate on where I live once you feel better. It’s like getting really sick, right? Who will take care of the store? I need to help you”

“Lia’s more than ready to handle things without me, plus just in case I’ve left detailed letters with instructions and suggestions on how they might conduct themselves while I am away.”

Tav threw her head back and laughed at him. He used to hate it when she laughed at him. Before he’d ever worked up the nerve to kiss her all those months ago. After that moment he’d begun to love the sound of her laugh. But now, the sound of her laugh reached out and grabbed him by the heartstrings and tugged. The feeling reaching from his chest down to the deepest reaches in his gut where a fire was already smoldering.

He groaned at the sound of her laugh, biting his lip and tasting copper as he restrained himself in her presence. She studied his face from where she sat on the desk just above him in his chair, a look of concern on her beautiful face. Ever so softly, she reached out her hand to stroke his jaw and he groans in response. His tail immediately whipped out to wrap around her wrist to hold her close. She gasped in response.

“So, you know… everything?” He gritted out as his eyes searched hers with a desperate hunger. He rubbed his cheek into her hand, so needy for the contact. A blush had formed on her cheeks and stretched down to her chest where her breast heaved unconsciously at the charged question.

“I wouldn’t say everything… I know it’s a mating thing and that for some it’s rut and for others it’s heat, and that’s its really kind of painful and can be really disruptive to day-to-day life.”

“Is… Is that it?” He panted out, never taking his eyes off her.

“That’s not everything, it’s easier, less painful if you have a… partner to satisfy your… urges.”

Rolan could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as she explained. He needed her so badly it was already driving him crazy, and his rut hadn’t even fully started yet. Her thumb traced a gentle pattern on his cheek that felt as if she were working the very Weave with fingertips.

“And there are some… anatomical changes as well,” she added awkwardly while glancing away.

His tail had lowered her arm to her side and moved to coil around her waist to pull her closer. Her eyes widened as he drew her face to his.

“I hate to say this, but you should probably go back to your place until I can think straight again.”

Tav laughed right in his face. That beautiful devastating laugh reaching down into him once more and fanning the flames within.

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. I’m not leaving you, my love”

“But…”

“That is unless you don’t want me… I don’t wish to intrude.”

Gods, she’s so good right down to her core. She is honey and sunshine, and I am the miserable wretch who craves her sweetness.  Her kindness only served to fuel the fire within him. He feels delirious with need, but he tries to steel himself. This isn’t true desperation; he knows desperation is what will happen once his rut has fully begun.

“It’s not that… I don’t want to hurt you”

“Hurt me?”

Her eyes widen in surprise, her breath is cool on his face relative to the heat that pours from his skin.

“You don’t understand, it might be dangerous for a human — I don’t know if I can be gentle with you under those conditions.”

She considers his words for a few moments before she responds. His mind is left to wander. All he can think about is fucking her, filling her over and over until one of them can take no more. Then he sees a light as if she’s realized something and he fills with dread — the Druid has always been abnormally astute in her observations of him.

“Have you ever gone through a rut with someone, Rolan?”

She says it nervously and glances away like she knows the truth and is giving him a moment of privacy. He can’t help but let out a sigh.

“No, I haven’t”

She looks back at him when he answers. The truth doesn’t cool the atmosphere like he thought it would, if anything she looks more interested, almost turned on by that thought.

“I trust you Rolan”

He’s on her in a second, closing the gap between their mouths with a hungry kiss. Using his tail around her waist, he draws her near so she is straddling him in his chair. It’s like bathing himself in her scent and it pushes him closer to the threshold of madness. His hands reach up to grab the sides of her face roughly, dominating the kiss. Their tongues meet with a savage energy and moans fill the once quiet room. Using the last reserves of sanity in his mind he wills himself to pull away.

“Tav…”

“Rolan if you want me, I’m staying”

She doesn’t even let him finish before she pants out her argument.

“Gods, I love you”

“I love you too”

She leaves a sweet kiss on his forehead, right between his horns — a place she knows will melt him every single time. How can he resist her?

“What if we head to your cottage? It can be just the two of us”

He suggests it as he mouths kisses on her neck, trailing up to her ear. A rush thrills through him when he hears her gasp of joy, and his tail tightens around her at the sound.

“Really?”

He nodded. Tav had wanted to take a long stay away from this city for some time and had talked about it many times. There had been a few opportunities where it looked like they might be able to — but between tragedy and obligations every attempt had failed. This would be his first rut he experienced with a partner — a special occasion in the life of any Tiefling and he wanted to make it special for her too.

“Of course, just give me a few more hours to finish up here and pack some things. You might want to give Cal the week off too, I’m sure Lia could use him around the store and…”

He trailed off when Tav winced as his point was well made. They wouldn’t want Cal around to hear or gods forbid see what they would be doing for the next week.

“Of course,”

The next forehead kiss she leaves made him wince, but the reaction is not one of pain or discomfort. As her lips connected with his skin it feels as if a jolt of pure energy radiates across his body from that very point. A near euphoria washes over his body unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. Hells, it feels good.

“Zurgan, Tav”

Rolan filled his lungs with a deep breath of air. Making one last desperate attempt to master himself, so he might have a shred of a chance of accomplishing what needed to be done before their “impromptu vacation.” It’s a mistake. The scent of her overpowers him and something primal is released as a result. “Mate, my mate” His mind screams it, but he refuses to give in, not yet. When he continues its forced sounding - through gritted teeth. 

“I need you to stay away from me until we leave. I can’t— “

Mate, my mate, so beautiful, need her, fuck her, fill her. He closes his eyes and struggles to continue.

“— I can’t think clearly when you’re around right now. I’m sorry.”

She dismounted his lap slowly. Peeling his tail away from where it was wrapped around her waist was a struggle -- he is reluctant to let go even if he needed it. Only after he heard her carefully cross the room, did he open his eyes once more. To find her by the door looking shy. A sense of emptiness filled him, her touch had eased some of the symptoms even in that short time and her absence was felt keenly.

“I’m sorry Rolan,”

“No need, love.”

Before she departed, they agreed to meet again at dusk ready to depart for their stay at her home outside the city. Awakened once more, Rolan still found himself struggling to focus. The sweet scent of his beloved is left behind on the desk where she had sat. As he works getting ahead on accounts, he caught repeated wafts which seemed to keep him in a constant state of arousal. Mate, my mate, fuck, fill, mate. His hardened cock strained against his pants as he worked. An uncomfortable and constantly nagging presence to deal with as he calculated costs and revenue projections in the ledgers before him.

When the accounts were finally finished, he sat back shakily still willing himself to ignore the constant presence of his arousal. After consideration, he had added a note in the book for Lia to double check his figures before they were finalized. Though he’d always prided himself on his brilliance in a way that some thought bordered on arrogance, he wouldn’t risk his responsibilities for any reason. Usually, he hardly required (and would sooner die before asking) anyone to check on his accounting. But there was a first time for everything. Humiliatingly, he was certain Lia would discover upon double-checking that most of the math he’d done today was in fact, wrong.

[philtstone]

title: check yes, juliet

Summary:

It doesn't matter that Juliet is a freshly-minted, top-of-her-class field agent (alright, so she hasn't actually been in the field yet) or one of the few women working for the Federal Bureau of Investigation's cutting edge check fraud department (just last week, their 20-year-old coffee maker broke and they ran out of number two pencils to mark up their overhead projector notes with): every time her mother calls, all she does is lament that her beautiful, intelligent daughter isn't meeting any eligible bachelors.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Maryanne sighs eventually. “All O’Hara women fall for liars, Julie. It’s our curse.”

Juliet has to wonder if she didn't scoff at her mother's claim a little bit too soon.

my brother & i had the earth shattering realization a month ago that the plot of "catch me if you can" (2002) is almost to a tee just a mildly alternate psych timeline and that thought has lived in my head rent free to such an insane degree that eventually 14 thousand words poured out of me in au fic form. im posting it so as many other people as possible can see the vision. and also because im sure theres one person other than me who revels in early seasons shawnjuliet's frankly insane levels of chemistry, lol. enjoy!

READ FULL FIC ON AO3

Excerpt:

“Your average bounced check would be routed to the bank it originates from, so you’d only really have a few days in one place before you were discovered. This guy’s been filing off the routing numbers, changing ‘em somehow – so cleanly and neatly that it’ll take a real sharp eye to notice. It’s all about the branch you’re cashing it in. A check cashed in at Chase Manhattan with the one changed to ten’s gonna bounce halfway around the country before anyone figures out it’s rotten, and by that point this asshole is long gone. The numbers go East, Central, West – you see how they cover 0-60, 70-80, and of course they require a special kind of ink to be recognized as real checks, which you’d all know if you’d read the report I circulated …”

Juliet doesn’t notice the full cup of orange juice in front of her until it’s too late. 

Her head’s still full of Carlton’s two hour long briefing this morning, during which she learned more about check fraud than she’d have ever thought a single person could in one lifespan. Certainly not Juliet, who’d originally studied literature at Florida State. Then again, back then she’d have never expected to end up an FBI agent, either.

Then there’s the wired, tense feeling in her gut that probably won’t go away ‘til this sting is over and they bring in the pathetic local guy Carlton’s been tracking for the last week. His MO is pretty girls in pastel dresses, which made Juliet the right man – woman – for the job. At least maybe doing this’ll help the guys in the office take her seriously as a field agent. And, well … she does love a nice peachy pink cardigan. The color goes well with her complexion.

“This idiot’s no real con man, he’s just a clown who can’t be bothered to work an honest job. Child’s play compared to the real thing. ” Carlton tends to pause here, angry that he’s got to acknowledge it like that – the real thin g. “ You know what they’ve been calling him in the papers these days?”  

Him . Always him. They don’t have a name on the subject yet, despite over a million cashed in fraudulent checks. Juliet hums and nods so her partner feels acknowledged. 

“ The skywayman . Pathetic. Like he’s some magician or something, instead of a two-bit liar who thinks he’s smarter than me. ”

“This isn’t personal, Carlton ,” Juliet says tiredly. “ It’s not like he knows who you are to be deliberately toying with you.”  

“Oh yes he is. I know he is. I know him .”

Her hands aren’t quite shaking, because that would be stupid; this guy, their local guy, shouldn’t have a gun on him, and if he does he’s not the type to shoot a woman. Juliet focuses on the paper in front of her and tucks a lock of her hair behind one ear. A window of ten minutes – that’s what Carlton said. Unlike Carlton’s unsub nemesis, they know plenty about this one. He’ll come in, dressed like the middle-aged schlub he is, loose tie probably, gray slacks, thinning hair. He’ll notice her, buy her a soda she’ll accept with a faulty check and then pick her pocket for the cash. The string of pearls at her neck makes her a sweet college girl whose parents have money. She mentally forces herself to stop chewing her lip and instead moves her right hand down to her lap, where she can pick at her nail polish without anyone seeing. 

“Well, obviously we wanna catch him,” Agent Dobson says, when they’re a third of the way through the morning briefing and half the room is asleep or dreaming of lunch. Juliet, of course, has been furiously taking notes. He means the Skywayman; he means the real thing. “But you gotta admit, Lassiter, there is a bit of a magic show to a good con, isn’t there? The press has that one thing right.”

“It’s not magic. It’s lies and deceit and a healthy helping of audacity, and a damn good typewriter. O’Hara, write that down. We’re gonna go through that list of makes and models again, see what we can come up with.”

Deep breath. Her purse, orange to match the cardigan, is in her lap. The gun’s in the purse. She’ll draw it, but not to shoot. This is the kind of work she’s begged the Chief for, and she’ll be just fine.

Maybe Juliet would feel less desperate to prove herself if this diner wasn’t in Miami, and her father didn’t gift her the only string of pearls she owns.

A voice clears itself quietly above her.

“Uh, excuse me? Hi, yeah, hi. That’s my seat.”

READ MORE

[sidgeno-ficrecs]

this delicate place by @ljummen

sidgeno (2019, explicit, 32.8k) **content notes: mental illness, anxiety attacks, depression, trauma and its aftermath

“Are you?” Taylor asks unexpectedly. “Am I what?” Looking up from the stove, Sid finds her watching him with an odd look on her face. “Happy.” It should be an easy question to answer. Sid has escaped back to Canada after a career ending injury. It doesn’t dawn on him exactly how much early retirement has affected him, until Taylor introduces him to a YouTube channel where a firefighter talks about his own struggles with his mental health.

Hey Geno,

I just watched this video and realized that I’ve had several panic attacks over the course of a few months. I had one a few hours ago. I haven’t experienced anything traumatic, but anxiety (I assume, based on your description in this video) has been sneaking up on me. A week ago, I bought two plants, like you suggested in another video. Today’s panic attack was triggered by me noticing that they were dead (the plants, I mean).

I feel stupid for reacting to something so trivial. I haven’t watched that many of your videos, but from what I understood, you actually experienced something bad. So why am I broken for no reason?

this is a hard time of year.

it's dark, it's cold (if you're in the northern hemisphere), and for me at least, it always seems like the post-holiday winter stretch is when bad things happen. it's easy to get lost in your own head and spend hours dwelling on what's gone wrong, or what might go wrong, and get stuck in a negative feedback loop that can be so, so hard to break out of.

i've mentioned before that i don't love fics that diagnose sid (or geno, but it's usually sid) with certain neurodivergencies because in my experience it leads to people talking about him like he actually has x or y and it makes me uncomfortable, but i re-read this fic last night because i've been feeling down recently and i think it deserves a moment in the spotlight.

this story is a very raw, honest look at what it can be like to deal with depression and anxiety, from the perspective of someone who never has before and doesn't know what's going on and needs an extra push to see what's happening and get help.

depression is a lonely, isolating experience, and that's part of what makes it so dangerous. it's so easy to not notice that you're withdrawing and losing yourself until it's almost too much to climb out of, and on top of all that you've lost all motivation to take steps to get better. it's a vicious, evil little trick the brain can play on you, and @ljummen walks us through sidney's experience with it with care, honesty, and compassion.

this fic made me feel seen. it can be hard to read—sid has panic attacks and we as readers experience them right along with him, along with the other symptoms of depression—but if you're in a space where reading about it won't make you feel worse or trigger anything, i really recommend it. we see sid struggle, we see him be in denial of what he's dealing with—what does he have to be depressed over, after all? what trauma does he have to deal with?—and, crucially, we see him turn a corner and start to get better.

i think that's the magic of this story. sid manages to step outside of the black pit he's stuck in long enough to take steps to get help, and he meets someone who knows him and understands what he's going through, and they fall in love despite the obstacles in their way. it's a story about someone whose life isn't going the way they thought it would, but who manages to see that's not necessarily the end of the world, and for me at least reading this story gave me comfort and hope.

yes, it can be dark at times. life can be hard, so hard that it seems easier to just go back to bed and try and wait it out. but you also might meet someone who sees you, and knows you, and is there for you, and who you can see and know and support in return. there's light out there, if you can peek outside the curtain to look for it.

i hope you're all taking care of yourselves. be gentle with your own mind if you've been having a difficult time. reach out to the people who love you—they want to be there for you, even if you're hearing that little voice that says you're just a burden.

and if you're up to it, read this story, which will hopefully provide you a little comfort and escape and hope, like it does for me when i'm having bad days.

read it here on ao3!

and don't forget to leave a comment!

[writer-or-whatever]

The body swap WIP! I love that trope🤭

It's a good fucking trope! Although currently that fic sort of exists just as a bulleted list type outline, not any concrete scenes yet (despite the fact that it has been nebulously floating around in my brain for like a year). Anyway, please enjoy the concept:

AU where soulmates swap bodies for 24 hours. This happens when one of them needs the other most instead of some arbitrary age. Peter, of course, is alone in NYC post-nwh and after Ned and MJ go away to college. 

The bodyswap happens on a completely mundane Tuesday. Peter hasn’t even had any kind of big spiderman fight, and MJ isn’t in any kind of trouble beyond the six courses she’s taking this semester (it’s slightly too many, or so Ned keeps saying, but she needs to keep herself busy to keep her mind off the gaping hole she feels in her life but can’t really get her head around) 

When they swap, Peter does his best not to panic. He goes through his day, doing his best to channel his inner MJ (which, shouldn’t be too hard. He is in her body) and not clue anyone in. He finds her class schedule, goes, takes notes, and lays low so she doesn’t fall behind. He makes it almost all the way through the day before Ned finally catches up to him and almost immediately clocks that he is, in fact, not MJ. Cue the great grilling for information.

Ned is so excited for MJ, for both of them honestly—even though he doesn’t know Peter—and Peter feels so so bad for clamming up and skirting around so many of his questions, giving just the most perfunctory answers and trying not to break down at having his best friend’s enthusiasm aimed at him again. Ned assumes that MJ is the one who needs her soulmate, he knows about her unease and the feeling that she’s missing something big—knows about her lists and drawings of a boy they don’t know (but that looks so familiar somehow) and the feeling of loss that she tries to play off every time he asks. 

Peter feels like he’s been punched in the solar plexus for the entire conversation. He had no idea that MJ was feeling like this. He hadn’t realized that everyone that forgot him had a Peter Parker sized hole in their lives. He didn’t realize it was possible for anyone to miss him so much, especially when they never even knew he was missing. Peter gets so worked up about this that he actually vomits. Ned is so so worried, but before Peter can really say anything one way or another, he’s back in his own body. 

Meanwhile MJ is having quite the Tuesday. She wakes up in this sad tiny cramped apartment back in New York. It takes her approximately five minutes to come across the spidey suit, which is draped over the shower curtain rod drying. It takes her even less time to find the picture of her, Ned, and the boy whose face she is currently wearing. 

She gets that same sick feeling in her gut and buzzing in her head that she’s had for months, every time she tries to figure out what the hell is missing. She still doesn’t know all the details, or any of them really, but the weird holes in her life and in her and Ned’s friendship seem to be adding up to the shape of this boy—of fucking spiderman apparently (and why does that information give her a bit of smug satisfaction? Not that her soulmate is a superhero but rather the fact that she’s figured out that this boy is spiderman). 

She digs around his entire tiny one-room apartment and lays out everything she finds and deems another important piece of the puzzle. She finds a few more photos of them, a lego star wars figure (notably one of the ones that Ned has complained he’s missing from one of his sets), and then the fucking note. The one he wrote to practice telling them who is he is. The one where he tells them all about who he is (Peter Parker), and who he was to her and Ned. Upon reading this, she has a vague memory of this guy walking into the diner she used to work at and giving her his whole name with his order of a single small black coffee before he left. 

Suddenly she is so so angry. It comes from somewhere deep inside her, deeper than the well of the strange sadness she’s been dealing with for months. She doesn’t remember knowing Peter, but somewhere deep inside her she remembers being devasted by something he’s done. 

It’s almost midnight, so she doesn’t have time to do much other than leave him a short note that she leaves on top of all of the other things she’s dug out over the course of the day. It just says ‘You owe me an explanation, Peter’ and her phone number. 

This is, of course, a bad things happen bingo prompt fill so I'm leaving the ending a bit open. So yeah. That's the bodyswap au WIP. Thanks for asking 🥰

[grapenehifics]

Making of Monday: Can't Stop the Suns Part 1

(I am thinking SO positively rn that I am calling this part 1, like I will remember to actually write more. YMMV; we'll see how I do.)

I'm hard at work on the concluding chapters of Pick Up the Pieces right now, and working on Pick Up the Pieces means I also need to do a fair bit of rereading An Uncivil War, so it's very much on the forefront of my brain, and also I have yet to participate in a single MoM, so: here's some backstory on An Uncivil War.

Okay I actually need to back up even farther than that, all the way to Solsbury Hill and February 2020. I started Solsbury Hill - it wasn't called that, then; it didn't have a name, just 'weird doc file/outline I'll probably never finish because I don't have a track record of finishing creative writing projects, ever' - and then the very next month I started working from home AND season 7 of Clone Wars premiered.

To get ready for season 7 - and because I was home a lot more during the day, now, and didn't have to commute to work - we decided to do a rewatch of Clone Wars season 1 through 6. And you know how we joke about plot bunnies, and why they're called that? That the hardest idea is your first one and once you have that the ideas just keep multiplying? So, I'm sitting on an outline for what would become Solsbury Hill, and we're watching Clone Wars, and we get to season 5, and the episode with Ahsoka's trial, and I think to myself, huh. That's weird. Why is Obi-Wan acting like that? Why is he not sticking up for our Padawan? If he had, I bet things would have turned out differently. Ahsoka might not have left the Order. Anakin might not have turned to the Dark Side. Clone Wars is full of all these little things that individually might not be enough to push Anakin over the edge, but they start stacking up, collectively...

From there, it was a pretty easy leap to, 'what if Obi-Wan left the Order instead of Ahsoka', and that created this whole domino effect because Anakin would obviously leave with him, right, and Ahsoka was getting kicked out anyway, and now I've got this scenario with three Jedi on the run in the middle of a war.

And that was fascinating to me. Once I started thinking about it I couldn't stop. But I was also getting really into Solsbury Hill, at that point, so this new story needed to take a backseat. I dumped a bunch of notes into a Word doc and went back to my AU.

It turns out, though - and this was the first time I'd learned this about myself - that I liked having both an AU and a canon project going at the same time. Solsbury Hill and An Uncivil War both used such different parts of my brain and required a different skillset and researching vastly different things, and if I got bogged down in one it was nice to be able to switch to the other one and hack away at that one for a while. So I ended up, from early 2020 until August 2022 when I posted the first chapter of Solsbury Hill on AO3, working on both projects nearly simultaneously, although obviously Solsbury Hill (despite being three times longer) got to the finish line first.

For a long time - almost three years - An Uncivil War was just called, An Uncivil War. And it had this expansive outline that I just kept cracking away at, and whenever I came across something cool in another piece of Star Wars media or another show premiered or I read another book I'd think 'Ooh, that's neat! That's going in the fic!' and I'd add it to my to-do list. And at some point I looked at my word count and realized I was pushing 100k and not anywhere close to the end of the story I wanted to tell.

So, I started thinking about sequels, and series. I had (still have) this outline, fortunately, and there was one pretty obvious stopping point at what was then the mid-point of the plot. (I say, 'then' because it has since, of course, expanded. It turns out I'm very bad at guessing word counts.) So I took half my outline, dumped into a brand-new doc, called that one Pick Up the Pieces, and wrote the 'ending' of An Uncivil War, as much as possible, as if it were the ending, just in case I for some reason never got around to writing Pick Up the Pieces.

Because it was important to me that An Uncivil War be able to stand on its own. It's got a beginning, a middle, and an end, and the end calls back to the beginning, and the main threat to the characters is resolved, and they talk about what they're going to do next but even if that was the only story you had, it should still be a satisfying conclusion (or, at least, I hope it is).

But it isn't the entirety of the story I wanted to tell. Because they originally were one big story, I actually had maybe half of Pick Up the Pieces already written by the time I started posting An Uncivil War, so while the first part took me three years to write, the second has technically only taken me a year, but I was definitely not starting from scratch.

I also - and this should shock absolutely no one - was once again wildly off in my word count estimate. Pick Up the Pieces is, right now, already as long as An Uncivil War (120k), and I've still got three chapters left to go...plus a bunch more things in my outline I haven't gotten to yet.

So, in true Star Wars tradition, I'm now plotting a part three! Pick Up the Pieces, like An Uncivil War before it, has a logical ending point, so it will wrap up there, but the plot will move merrily along to the next thing on my to-do list, which is in fact the same to-do list I've had since March 2020. (It's a good thing I love this story so much or I would have quit long ago.) Part Three, at the moment, is tentatively titled Sometimes Fate Steps In, and I'm really, really sorry to have to admit that that's where all the smut is going to be. (I know. It's Solsbury Hill all over again.)

(I do love it, though. I feel like I should...apologize, to my fics, somehow, for having a favorite? I do have a favorite, though. It's this series. I love it so damn much. This is the one thing I write where, if you told me right now that I would never get a single comment or kudos on it, I would still write it anyway, because I just get so much enjoyment out of researching and writing it and re-reading it.)

(Which is not to say you shouldn't comment on it. Please, please do! You will absolutely make my day, week, month, year! But I love it enough to do it anyway.)

[s4pphic-sh3nan1gans]

Welp I just re-read Zame, si čisti dopamin because of your WIP post even though it ends on a cliffhanger and I shouldn't do that to myself😭😭😭 please tell me Bojan ends up kissing him

awwww thank you so much for re-reading!!! I know cliffhangers kinda make me wanna tear my hair out, so I'm immensely sorry for leaving it on one for so long aksjsksh 😭

so, I had a dive deep into my notes app and I realised that I actually wrote a decent amount of the final chapter?! like... over 1000 words?!?! which I was NOT expecting at all. it just makes me wonder why I lost motivation, usually if I have a big chunk of something done it just makes me want to finish it even more but gosh, idk 😭 sooooo perhaps I should finally finish it after all these months? 👀 it seems like a tragedy to leave it as is.

anyways, for your commendable bravery of reading an unfinished fic, I now gift to youuuuu (drumroll pleeeeease) the start of the final chapter, so far unseen... until now! enjoy 😌

Chapter 5 - Have I ever told you?

The next couple of days raced by for Bojan. Of course, he spent most of his time simply with Jere enjoying his company, but also getting to know his friends and being taken sightseeing around Finland.

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, a solid (and embarrassing) 70% of the time was spent over-thinking every single interaction and wondering if his sentiments were returned, and how he would even begin to bring it up.

(And if the other 30% was spent stealing glances and touches whenever he could... well. That was no one else's business but his.)

The day of the Tavastia concert was finally upon them, and Bojan had never felt so much anticipation in all his life. He simply could not wait for the atmosphere that he knew would feel like liquid electricity injected straight into his veins, heightened even more when he would step out onto stage with Jere, to a crowd not expecting him.

And yet... something was nagging at the back of Bojan's mind. Because as much as he was looking forward to sharing a stage with Jere - with Käärijä - it was also tainted by the fact he knew that he wore his heart on his sleeve and was as easy to read as a book. Maybe not by Jere himself, (because that man had proved himself to be clueless even at the best of times) but by the hundreds of people watching, and the countless thousands more inevitably watching videos online afterwards.

He knew that the fans were perceptive, and he knew that he didn't trust himself enough to keep his reactions and his goddamn smiles under control whenever he's around Jere, and as much as he might try, he knew there would be absolutely nothing he could do about it. To his eternal annoyance, he was in way too deep.

However, despite his worrying, a part of him really didn't care. It was highly likely that any embarrassing, lovesick moments on his part would be seen as a performance, simply fan-service and nothing more... but that simultaneously filled another part of him with dread and nausea, as he feared that is how Jere himself would view their antics. Playing it up for the crowd. Evoking reactions. Getting people talking.

"Bojan?"

He jumped. Jere was looking straight at him and... oh. He was shirtless. Clearly, Bojan had been too inside his own head to even notice him losing an item of clothing. Great, and now he was staring.

ask me about one of my wips!

[gvtted-ratz]

read all our tags/ratings. they are important and give you all u need to decide if you wanna actually read or not. do not like the tags/rating? do not read.

FEM ALIGNING/IDENTIFYING PPL (unless mutuals/friends) DNI WITH OUR MLM WORKS. fem ppl can still request tho. respect our wishes or get blocked. yes we do read/check everything. we tag appropriately/use tags that go with our posts.

want 2 request? find the rules: here!

want 2 see all the fics? find em: here!

Look Outside The Window

Jay Merrick/Skully x M!Reader

Last Edited: July 4, 2021 12:03 AM

TW: stalking, obsessive behavior

Requested: no

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes: these used 2 be posted but i deleted them after some comments made me hate them. however, i found them again recently n may end up adding more. i also do not hate them anymore. tws will be in the notes before every chapter and some will be put in the additional tags. the character is also in the notes/summary before each chapter. (The 1st 4 r old n unedited)

You had needed an out. You needed to get away from home. Your parents did nothing but trap you there. You couldn’t make your own decisions or even buy anything with your own money without them talking you down or insulting you over it. They wanted you to live with them and go by their rules. They didn’t care about what you wanted in life and only saw you as their “little boy”. You weren’t a child anymore; you were a young adult. They were constantly trying to infantilize you and you hated it. You were a young adult and you needed to branch out, make mistakes, and move on. So that’s what you did. You left home after finding a house-sitting job.

The job would last a few months, which was odd to you. Why house sit for months on end? The owners didn’t tell you anything. You didn’t even call. You emailed them and they emailed you. Every interaction with the couple was through emails. Or at least, you think the person messaging you is in a relationship. It sounded that way. One part of the email said, “We’ll be leaving the house to you. My partner and I are going on vacation for a few months. You can watch and live in the house while there. Your pay will be sent to you in a check via mail. The groceries will be delivered to you once a week. May you watch it carefully.” The last part gave you a sense of foreboding, almost like you should be watching out for something out in the house deep in the woods.

When you had arrived at the house, you were pleasantly surprised to find it very tidy. Everything was spotless in the two-story home. It held four bedrooms and three bathrooms. There was a dining room, living room, family room, kitchen, foyer, dressing area, and a nook. Overall, a large house. Well, a large house for a simple couple. Perhaps the couple has quite a bit of money? Especially if they’re going on vacation for a few months and are paying you a large sum to simply watch the lonely house in the woods.

The first few days were fine. Nothing really happened other than the feeling of being watched. What creeped you out the most though was that you never heard any birds. It was always silent outside. Silent and still. There was barely any wind thanks to the dense forestry. Despite that, the feeling of being watched continued. Sometimes, though, you would hear gentle buzzing in your ears. It reminded you of bees but it sounded more like an old tape. Whenever you heard it, it seemed like static covered your eyesight. You could still see, but the static was like a film over your sight. Whenever you would look in the mirror, your eyes seemed to have a slight glaze over them. Of course, there wasn’t much you could do and no amount of searching the internet seemed to help.

By the second week, you were hearing birds. There was something… off about them. They didn’t sound lively. They sounded hollow. Almost like something was mimicking them. You would hear them next to whichever window you were closest to as well. It was like something was by the window, mimicking the birds only when you’re there. It didn’t happen all throughout the day either. It only happened when you weren’t doing something. If you were to turn off the television, ready to get started on a meal, the chirping and singing would start up. Because of how hollow and synthetic it sounded, shivers would run all over your body. It didn’t help that the static over your vision seemed to get slightly worse whenever it would happen; the buzzing in your ears also seemed to get louder. At night, however, there was no chirping or singing. The static seemed to have tripled at that point though and the buzzing was so loud that you could barely hear your heartbeat and breathing.

By the first month, you were looking outside constantly. The bird noises seemed to happen constantly by now and notes started to appear around your home. When you would try to sleep, the hollow tune of the birds would be there despite the fact that no birds were out. The buzzing was so loud that it was all you would hear. The static was so bad that it completely covered your sight; it was like looking at a static screen. The notes terrified you. There were never any footprints in the snow outside and you were the only one in the home. You believed, at first, that you were writing them. Maybe you had been half asleep and wrote them. But that changed when the notes didn’t match your handwriting and started to be… weird.

You look handsome today. One said. Do you like the birds? They don’t seem very lively though. Another read. I wish you would see me. You always know I’m there thanks to the static and buzzing. Maybe we’ll meet soon. More and more would come in. They were always placed where you’d see them. A window. The fridge. Even on the television. They were taped there, all signed with an S. One was even on your bedroom door. How did someone get in and out without leaving any footprints or any evidence behind? You didn’t know but it started to make you close every curtain and try to raise the volume of everything, trying so hard to drown out the unlively birds.

Today was just like the last few. The static over your vision makes it hard to see right with how thick it is. The buzzing in your ears is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the synthetic birds. You make breakfast for yourself, dressed in some simple sleepwear. The breakfast you make doesn’t take too long, just some scrambled eggs and toast with jam. You eat in silence; well, not entirely in silence thanks to the buzzing and birds. When you finish your breakfast, you wash the plate and other utensils you had used to make your meal. Once done, you decided to do some light stretching in the living room. There wasn’t much you could do in the home. Outside was too cold for you to explore the wilderness without sustaining frostbite.

All of the curtains were closed except for one. It was the closest to the television. You were going to close it before spotting the note taped on the box. You stare at the note before tearing it off the screen. It reads: Look Outside The Window . You pause, staring at the note. The buzzing slowly starts to get louder just as the static over your sight starts to worsen. The birds, however, stop chirping. There’s only the buzzing. Slowly, you look towards the window. Nothing. Nothing but still snow.

A small smile worms its way only your face, mocking. A small, forced chuckle leaves your lips before you turn around, ready to head back into the kitchen to make some tea to calm your beating heart. You freeze though when you see the figure standing in the doorway. The beige-orange coat covers most of their figure while the black-ish blue hood covers their face. They have on a pair of gloves, the same colour as their hood. Their pants are a simple pair of jeans while their shoes seem to be black combat boots. Seeing a figure in your home is terrifying, yes. It wouldn’t have been as scary if the figure didn’t have a mask on. The mask was an off-white-ish colour with black eyeholes, high black eyebrows, and a box shape for the mouth, somewhat resembling teeth.

You both stand there, no one moving. The buzzing is so loud now that you can barely hear your own heart and breathing. The static is so bad that you can barely see the figure clearly. “IT’s NiCe To FiNaLlY mEeT yOu, [Redacted],” They, or he, says. His voice sounded weird. It was like a mix of different pitches and he couldn’t decide which one was best and went with all of them. You didn’t think though, only acted. You quickly dropped the note and fled the living room. You could hear him following you as you ran for the back door. You slam into it, trying to unlock it. “YoU dOn’T wAnT tO gO oUtSiDe! It’S tOo CoLd FoR yOu. EsPeCiAlLy WiTh HoW yOu’Re DrEsSeD!” You don’t listen though, not even as he slowly approaches you. With a final turn of the knob, the door is flung open and you run out into the snow.

It’s cold and stings your feet. You run and run and run. You don’t once look back, too scared that he may be right there. You don’t hear him following you, but that’s due to the buzzing. It’s so loud now that it’s all you can hear. You’re basically running blind; the static is so thick that seeing your surroundings is almost impossible. You stumble around mostly, hands in front of you so you don’t run face-first into any trees.

You’re unsure of how long you have been running. All you know for sure is that you can’t see anything anymore, the buzzing is starting to give you a headache, you feel like you’re sweating buckets beside the fact that your legs, arms, fingers, and toes are going numb. It isn’t long before you collapse. You’re breathing heavily, panting in the snow. You can feel yourself shaking despite feeling so hot, so overheated. Your hair sticks to your forehead as you continue to sweat. You try to move, to drag yourself somewhere but your body refuses. You lay there, your eyes open despite them wanting to close. The static is still strong, just like the buzzing. They scream danger but your body refuses to listen.

As more time passes, you feel yourself slowly going numb, your eyes fluttering every now and then, trying to close. The static slowly starts to fade away until it’s back to the normal, barely there, state. The buzzing fades into a gentle hum, it barely being able to be heard. You can hear how heavy your breaths are and see the pure white of the snow. One of your hands is in front of you, pale and slowly turning blue. Frostbite will, or already has, set in. Were you going to die out here? Here, all alone. Nothing to your name. No one looking for you besides your parents. Who would find your body? Or would the masked man hide your body away, letting it decay somewhere?

You can hear the crunch of the snow and gentle humming coming your way. It seems the man has come for you. His pace is slow, not at all rushed. Soon enough, he walks into your field of vision. He crouches down, sitting on the balls of his feet. His gloved hand is brought up before it comes through your hair. “LoOk At YoU. A sHiVeRiNg, HaNdSoMe MeSs. As MuCh As I lIkE hOw YoU lOoK rIgHt NoW, bEiNg VuLnErAbLe AnD aLl, YoU’rE tUrNiNg BlUe,” As soon as those words leave his mouth, he scoops you up in his arms, holding you close to him tightly. “DoN’t WoRrY. I’lL tAkE gOoD cArE oF yOu. I lOvE yOu ToO mUcH nOt To. YoU’lL bE sAfElY tUcKeD aWaY iN tHaT hOuSe, WiTh Me By YoUr SiDe To KeEp YoU cOmPaNy. NoW dOeSn’T tHaT sOuNd NiCe?”

[eryiss]

Summary: Laxus had quickly written off his college roommate. He didn’t party, didn’t go out, and didn’t do anything but study. All it would take was an unfair professor, a lot of door slamming, and the perfect prank to show Laxus how wrong he could be about a man who slept only six feet away.

Notes: Hey all. Welcome to Fraxus week. Head over to @fuckyeahfraxus to see all the posts. There’s no real theme between my fics this year, but there’s a tone of rebellion. Hope you enjoy.

Links: Ao3, Event Masterlist

Six Feet Away

December - 1987

Laxus' tapping of his pen was interrupted when the door was yanked open and slammed shut. He raised an eyebrow, kicked his chair back away from his desk and swivelled around to see the source of the noise. There was only one person it could have been, but the idea of him slamming any door was so ridiculous that…

No. It was him. Freed Justine – preppy, up tight, rule following Freed Justine – had just slammed a door.

He and Laxus looked at each other for a moment. Despite sharing a dorm room for just over three months, they hadn't exactly become friends. Or had a conversation longer than one minute, honestly. They were different people; Laxus was on an athletic scholarship and was working his way onto being the next star quarterback, while attending every party that he could. Freed, on the other hand, was a math student, or something like that; Laxus was pretty sure about that. He'd never asked what Freed was studying, but a guy like that wasn't going to be taking any of the good classes, was he? It was either math or science.

Either way, they weren't close. But there were a few things he knew about Freed he'd gathered through osmosis, and one of them was that he didn't ruffle feathers. At all. For Laxus, it had been a pretty good quality; an unobtrusive roommate was ideal. So to have him slam the door loud enough for the entire building to hear, was not expected.

"You okay-"

"Five professors," Freed snapped, voice holding more emotion than it ever had before. "Five individual professors looked at it and gave it the same grade. There was no conferring, no knowledge of what I was doing, and they all agreed."

Watching as Freed paced around their small room, Laxus spoke with hesitance. "Agreed on what?"

Freed approached Laxus' desk, slammed a small stack of paper on it, then went back to pacing. The papers, Laxus saw after picking them up, were five copies of the same essay. It was an analysis of a Hitchcock film – Freed was a film student? – and at the end of them all lay a good grade and a small summary of thoughts. The grading on each essay was written in different handwriting but seemed to broadly agree on the quality of the work. Laxus looked back to Freed, who was clearly expecting him to join in his outrage.

"I'm gonna need a little context."

"That bastard," Freed spat, gesturing towards the main building of their college. "Every professor in the film department read my work and agreed it was almost perfect. Every one of them concurred. Except for my actual professor, who failed me."

Another, smaller stack of paper was thrown onto his desk. It was the same essay, though obviously handwritten rather than being a product of the xerox machine, and with a very different grade written on the top. Practically every other sentence had feedback scribbled onto it, and none of it was positive. Laxus actually hissed out a breath after reading some of it, and thanked his past self for choosing courses that were entirely fact based rather than up for interpretation. Pre-Med and statistics were boring as hell, but at least he didn't deal with feedback like this.

On the last page, a thought struck him, and he wheeled his chair back so he could get into his desk drawer. It took him a moment to rifle through the files before he found his welcoming packet. Included in it were letters from the board of directors, giving the usual crap about how college is an amazing time, but they need to focus on studying. He pulled out one letter, compared the handwriting, and had his suspicions confirmed.

"You got Jose Porla, huh?"

"Yes," Freed stopped pacing. "Why, is he known for miss marking?"

"Not that exactly, but he plays favourites," Laxus shrugged. "He used to be on the board but got demoted after he was found giving dumbass students scholarships because he liked the families, so they pawned him off on some classes that nobody cared about," He cringed. "No offence. You didn't hear?"

"No. Why wasn't he fired?"

"Gives a lot of money, can't afford to totally piss him off," Laxus shrugged. "He doing it to your whole class, or just you?"

Freed didn't answer the question, but the tenseness of his jaw was enough to jump to an answer. "So, to conclude, my teacher has engaged in a known scandal, but has all but bribed himself into a position of tenure. To add to that, he's decided that I'll be his personal whipping boy for the year, and there's nothing I can do about it?"

Laxus clicked his tongue. "I could give you directions to the gym, so you can burn the energy off?"

Freed actually growled, turned, and stormed out the room. Laxus whistled and went back to looking at his own work.

Two Weeks Later

Laxus had taken a pretty good nap when the door clattered open and nearly slammed into straight his head. He shot upwards on instinct, his covers pooling at the waist as he looked on. Freed, after two unsettling weeks of not mentioning the incident, looked furious again. Even more furious this time if it were possible. A stack of papers was flung at Laxus as he blinked away the sleep, and he looked down and winced at what was scribbled at the top.

'Abject failure.'

"That counts to my final grade of the year," Freed snapped. "He graded it un-markable."

"That's bullshit," Laxus agreed, voice grumbling. "You should do something about it."

"Like what?" Freed huffed and collapsed into his own bed. "I've looked into lodging an official complaint against him, but the consensus of everyone I've spoken with is that it won't change anything, and if he found out about it then he'd only make things worse. There's going to the press, of course, but social pressure can only do so much so quickly, and he can more than destroy by GPA before anyone starts listening."

"Maybe try another kind of pushback."

"Like what?" Freed demanded.

Laxus thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing you'd wanna do."

"Tell me."

"You ain't gonna do it, you ain't the type," Laxus ran a hand through his hair, his tired mind missing the quick glance Freed gave his flexed bicep. "But, maybe go below the belt. He's only doing this shit because he thinks he can get away with it. Just because you can't get him fired doesn't mean you can't get him off your back. If I was on the field and some guy kept giving me trouble for no reason, and was fucking up my game, then I'd punch the bastard. I'd get a penalty, but he'd know not to keep pushing me because it wouldn't end well for him," Laxus shrugged and looked over to Freed. He was met with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Field?"

"I'm a footballer," Laxus said slowly, because surely Freed knew. "I'm the quarterback. The guy who-"

"I know football terms, I quite enjoy it actually," Freed countered, and the idea of Freed being a football fan didn't fit with Laxus' image of him at all. The thought of him screaming as part of the crowd seemed impossible. But Freed could show passion when pissed off; maybe when supporting a team, that side of him might come out too. "I just didn't know you were on the team. I assumed it would be more," his eyes glanced around the room. "Obvious."

"You thought I'd have jerseys and flags on every surface?" Laxus grinned.

"That, or the cheerleaders."

"Cheerleaders ain't my thing," Laxus said before thinking. He quickly amended himself. "Not the ones we've got, anyway."

Technically it was true, too. Some colleges had started to allow guys to join the cheer teams, and they always were hot. Freed clearly didn't notice Laxus' shot of panic and his amendment, and instead turned the topic back to Laxus. "I haven't had the time to go to any games."

"Really? You don't do anything."

It was a rude thing to say, and Laxus could see Freed's eyes snap onto him before he could take it back. "There's a reason I prioritise my studies, just as there's a reason why I can't enter into a pissing contest with my professor."

It was probably meant to be mysterious enough to not encourage any further questions. Laxus didn't work like that. "And that reason is?"

As expected, Freed hadn't anticipated any further questions, and perhaps that shock led him to answer. "There are… terms to my enrolment here." Again, Freed seemed to think that this was enough. Laxus kept looking at him until he continued. "My high school had a senior pranking tradition. It was meant to be harmless, but there was one student – Jackal – was cruel beyond excuse. I decided to get some payback on behalf of his victims. Some people thought I took things too hard, and as such my place here is only allowed if I keep my head low and my grades up."

"What did you do to him?" Laxus asked, curious.

"There's a basic chemistry experiment called Elephant's Toothpaste. It creates an expanse foam, you've probably heard of it? I sent a note to him to go to a certain storeroom which wasn't used, and set up a trap so sort," Laxus saw a grin splinter onto Freed's face. "The moment he walked in, a cord was pulled and a version of the Elephant's Toothpaste – a much larger version – exploded. It was harmless, and only made a mess of him, but he didn't take kindly to it. He also didn't like the stink bomb that I threw in after him."

Laxus snorted. That would have sucked, but it wasn't all that bad as pranks went. It also sounded slightly familiar. "Not as bad as it could have been?"

"Well, I think the aftermath is what really set things off," Freed laughed. Had Laxus ever heard him laugh before? "As I said, he was angry. People were laughing at him, which made it worse. He got to the parking lot and must have snapped, because he picked up a stone and started to smash his own car up with it. He looked deranged, actually. He then moved onto the next car, which happened to be the principals."

"Shit."

"Yes, but that's still not the worst of it," Freed smiled. "You see, he really was awful. Everyone hated him, and so I thought it fair that the entire school enjoy his embarrassment. I'm a film student, I have a video camera, so I thought I would record it and make a few copies to hand around school. What I didn't-"

"Holy shit that was you!" Laxus leapt up, grinning and gawping at Freed simultaneously. "That video was on the national news. People said our generation were influenced by satan because of it. It was you!"

"You can see how people think it got out of hand," Freed said, burying his face into his hand.

"Dude, that was badass. You got a load of old fucks pissing their pants on the news. And apparently the guy deserved to look like a dick too." He clasped Freed on the shoulder with a wide grin. "I mean, you've kinda shot yourself in the foot, but if people found out that was you, you'd be a campus legend. Pretty much anyone would defend you."

"Anyone other than the people who could expel me, I suspect," Freed sighed his words, then stood up. "You don't mind if I use the shower, do you? I think I need some time to think?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Freed walked into their shared bathroom, and Laxus watched him go. After a moment, when he heard the water hitting the shower floor, he closed his eyes and thought back to the video that had been on every news station for about a week. The student – Jackal – had looked like a total jackass. The prank was pure brilliance, Laxus had thought that even before he knew about the stink bomb. It was hard to reconcile with the realisation that Freed had been the person behind it.

Just weeks ago, Laxus had written Freed off the personification of a boring middle manager. But, there was something about Freed's eyes when he was talking about the prank. A sort of manic delight at the memory. That was why Laxus believed him; you couldn't fake something like that. He wondered what Freed was like in high school, before the threat of expulsion. Was he a punk? Laxus could kind of imagine it.

He'd look hot in a leather jacket, a stray thought suggested.

That didn't matter, for two reasons. One: Freed wasn't going to show any of his possible punk side so long as he was under Jose's thumb. Two: Laxus wasn't going to risk his position in school by going after a guy. He was an athlete, would be joining a frat next year, and needed college to work for him. Frat boys and athletes don't date men, no matter how manic their eyes looked.

Three Days Later

"I've got an idea," Laxus said as he walked into their dorm room. A large whiteboard and stand clattered behind him as he dragged it into the room and set it up in the small amount of space that was left unused. Freed looked up from his desk, face crunching.

"How quaint, an athlete using his mind," He deadpanned, obviously joking.

"Keep making those jokes and I'm gonna start playing the part of a dumbass jock bully, and then you'll regret it," Laxus grinned and looked over his shoulder. "Unless, o' course, you wanna be hanging from the flagpole by your underwear."

"I've always wondered about the mechanics of that. Surely, they'd tear, and what would you actually hook them onto? Not the rope, surely," Freed mused, and Laxus breathed out a laugh. He and Freed had been talking to each other and the more Laxus listened to him, the more he liked him. Talking with Freed was always surreal. He was a weird guy, but not bad. "Anyway, hardly the point. What do you mean you've had an idea?"

"On how you can get payback on Jose without getting in trouble," Laxus grinned, turning and writing 'Prank Ideas' on the top of the whiteboard.

"How?"

"I'll do it for you."

Freed looked at him as if he were stupid. "Then you'd get in trouble."

"Nah, I'm on a winning streak and, not to brag, but I'm bringing in a lot of fucking money for this school," Laxus ignored Freed's quiet 'Do you know what bragging is?' and turned to face him. "I could take a piss on the chancellor's desk while he sitting at it and he'd thank me. So, I'm pretty much as invulnerable as Jose is right now."

After a second of consideration, Freed shook his head. "I'd be blamed either way."

"No. Because I'm going to 'steal' your camera and record whatever we do to him, and I'm gonna make sure you can hear my voice taunting him so I'm obviously the guy behind it. He'll probably figure it out that it's you, but who would believe him. He'd have to tell everyone why he thinks it's you, and that means he'll have to confess to giving you bullshit marks. If he does that, he's really gonna lose his job." He could see Freed considering, and tried to give him the extra push. "Come on. The fucker deserves it; and I really wanna see what you can do when you're pissed off."

"You act like I'm some sort of… prank aficionado."

"And maybe you are," Laxus smirked, tapping the board with his marker. "We'll only know if you do it."

One Week Later

They both sat in wait outside the side door of the film and music department. They knew that Jose had a class ending in the next few minutes, and that he was the only person who would be using this door. The trap had been laid, the camera was waiting on Freed's tripod, and all they had to do was wait for it.

Although the plan being that Laxus would take the whole blame, Freed had insisted on being there to see the results of his work. Despite claiming he wasn't a regular prankster; Freed had come alive during their plotting sessions. That manic delight in his eyes was burning brightly, and Laxus had more than once found himself lost in them. He'd blamed that on the beer - they'd gotten pizza and beer to help the creative process – and had quickly pushed it to the back of his mind. Also in the back of his mind was the realisation of how nice Freed's laugh could be.

But now, huddled in the darkness right next to Freed, it was hard to ignore any part of him. He'd really come alive over the last few weeks, and Laxus couldn't ignore it. Freed was… mesmerising.

"That's his class," Freed whispered, nodding to a huddle of students walking out from the front of the building. "You ready?"

"Definitely," Laxus grinned conspiratorially as he flicked on the camera.

Their plotting had been successful, and they'd come up with too many good ideas to simply use one of them. After a while, they'd concocted a way of using all the highlights together, giving Jose the treatment he deserved. Any doubt about whether they were doing the right thing flew out the window when Laxus had spoken with a few of his teammates and heard their own stories of what he was like. Apparently, he made problems with any student he deemed an easy target.

The door opened, and Laxus acted instantly. He pushed down on the air horn, the sound splitting the silence. Jose jerked in fear, stumbling forward a few steps just as planned.

With a quick tug on a string, a well positioned bucket that had been on the awning above the door clattered forward. Laxus grinned as it fell directly onto Jose's head, covering it completely. He caught Freed smirking as Jose pulled the bucket off, revealing the neon pink gloop that was now covering his hair and face. Jose was spluttering and obviously furious. Laxus felt the rush already.

After a few moments of Jose flailing, Laxus raised the leaf blower and aimed. Between him and Jose were a large pile of arts and craft feathers, which flew through the air on the wind of the leaf blower. Jose raised his hands and tried in vain to stop the barrage of feathers. It didn't work; and they clung to the pink goo that covered him. Pink goo that he now realised was glue.

"Hey Professor," Laxus yelled cheerfully. "Love the new look. Suits you. Always thought you looked kinda like a chicken!"

"You!" Jose snapped, looking up through the mess. He spotted Laxus, then Freed. "You! I am going to-"

He took a step forward and cut himself off. A Slip and Slide had been set up and covered with water, which was just starting to freeze in the cold air. The Fairy Tail campus was built on a slight hill, and it sent Jose tumbling down the slide without dignity nor a chance to save himself. Freed quickly pulled the camera off the tripod to follow the journey, smirking amazingly as he did. Jose's short slide ended with him landing in a small kid's pool, filled with pond water and ice cubes. He gasped and squawked, and Laxus chuckled. Jose really was a chicken at heart.

Swaggering towards him, they both loomed over the professor. Jose looked at them with hatred, eyes aflame.

"You okay, Prof?" Laxus taunted. "These hills are dangerous for a man of your age."

"You are-"

"Ready men?" Laxus yelled before Jose could say anything that would incriminate Freed. "Aim! Fire!"

From numerous hiding places, every member of Laxus' team shot out, each holding snowballs. They began to pelt their professor with them at a rate nobody could block. They were coming from all angles, melding with the glue and feathers while obviously freezing him to the bone. It could have only lasted a minute, but it seemed to go on forever, and once again Laxus found himself entranced by Freed's expression, even if it was half hidden by his camera.

As the deluge of snowballs ended, Laxus walked forward again, making sure that he was in front of the camera. He leered down at Jose with exaggerated arrogance and delighted at the rage on the man's face. After all he had done, this was what he had coming to him.

"You think maybe this is your own fault?" Laxus taunted. "Maybe you deserve this? Maybe you shouldn't fuck with my team and my friends? That make sense?"

"I am not going to forget this!" Jose growled; the effect dampened by the fact he was a grown man in a kid's pool looking like an idiot.

"Of course you won't. Not when I had this commissioned," He gestured to the nearby building.

Spray painted by one of the art students, who also had a problem with Jose, was a brand-new mural of the man. It was a caricature of Jose covered in pink glue and feathers, sitting pitifully in a pool of dirty water, with a torrent of snowballs flying towards him. He was crying, looking entirely ridiculous, and Freed was making sure the entire piece was caught on camera before panning back to Jose, who spluttered indignantly.

"Happy Christmas Jose," Laxus grinned. "And again, this really is your-"

"What the hell is going on here!" A booming voice cut Laxus off, and flashlights danced over them. Campus security. Fuck.

"Get outta here," He demanded to Freed. "If you get caught you're gonna be kicked out."

"So will you," Freed hissed, the flashlights getting closer.

"I was always gonna be found out, that was the plan."

"There's a difference between confessing after a few weeks have passed and being caught in the act. Jose won't just let this go," Freed snapped, then took Laxus' hand in his own. "Come on."

Laxus didn't have a choice, as Freed pulled him forward with a surprisingly strong grip. Running through a part of the campus he barely knew, Laxus kept his head down so his face couldn't be seen by the security that were chasing them. They took corner after corner, getting further away from the guards each time, and eventually hid in a small alley, where they settled. Freed moved two large trash barrels so that the alley appeared blocked up. He ducked behind them, and Laxus did the same, listening as footsteps ran past them.

After taking a few moments to be sure they were gone, and to catch his breath, Laxus spoke again. "You already knew about this place?"

"I've been on my best behaviour. That doesn't mean I haven't made plans if I decided to have some fun."

"I knew you had a punk side to ya," Laxus grinned as he nudged Freed's shoulder.

"I would have thought that were obvious. Though I suppose you've only seen me dressed like this. I only brought the clothes to look inoffensive; my actual wardrobe would probably shock you."

"You'll have to show me it sometime," Laxus said before he could stop himself.

"If we both survive this without being expelled, maybe I will," Freed shrugged. He leant back against the grimy old barrel without thinking – even that would have seemed impossible of Freed a month ago – and closed his eyes. His face lit up. "I think I needed this. I've been too focused on not making ripples and getting good grades. I needed something cathartic. And God it was cathartic. His face was just amazing."

Freed continued to speak, but Laxus stopped hearing him. Looking at him in this crappy alleyway, his face illuminated by a flickering light a few feet away, Laxus was breathless. Freed was relishing in their victory with a smile that was almost feral, and there was a light in his eyes that Laxus had never seen on another man before. Freed looked alive. Like the life was shining out of him.

He moved before he could think, taking hold of Freed's cheek to turn him. He leant down, tilted his head, and kissed Freed. His chapped lips against Freed's sent a shot of lightning through him, and he felt as though fire was rushing over him. He shifted to get a better position and his knee nudged a dislodged brick, slamming agains the metal barrel they leant against.

Pulling back, his face was red, and panic overthrew delight. "Shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't-"

Freed took a hold of Laxus' hair, tugged at it, and dragged Laxus into another, heated kiss.

One Month Later

"So," Freed said as Laxus walked back into their dorm room. "How did it go?"

"Not too bad," Laxus shrugged.

He had returned from a meeting with his coach, the school's principal, and campus security. They had spread copies of the tape throughout the campus, and eventually Laxus had been deemed the ringleader. It was decided that he needed to face punishment even despite his success on the team. The meeting had been to decide what would happen.

"I've got to paint over the graffiti on my own every Saturday until there's no trace of it," Laxus shrugged off his jacket. It was leather, spiked on the shoulders. Freed had gotten it him for Christmas. He, in return, had gotten Freed a pair of combat boots and insisted Freed wear them. They looked great on him; Laxus would turn him back into a punk if it killed him. "I've also gotta do a couple talks at a load of schools. It kinda sucks but could be worse. And I have to do a fuck load of interviews to raise the profile of the college, so that's good for you, huh?"

"Why would that be good for me?"

"Because they'll wanna take pictures. And one of them is a men's health magazine," Laxus swaggered forward. He grinned down at him, relishing the smirk on his face. "And I'm pretty sure they're gonna want me shirtless."

"Interesting," Freed stood from his desk and placed both hands on Laxus' waist. "While that's all well and good, and I'll be sure to get that edition, I think I have access to something better than some risqué pictures."

"Really?" Laxus asked in a hoarse voice. "What's that?"

"You. Ready for me, any time I want you," Freed smirked, placed a hand on Laxus' chest and pushed. Laxus fell onto their pushed together beds and watched as Freed climbed on him, grinning down on him. He was never so happy to have misjudged someone.

[halfmoth-halfman]

may i interest you in some fic recs????😉

y'all know the drill, we got a rec list for fics i read, liked, and were written in the month of may!! there were so many that i actually had to split this into two posts cause tumblr has a link limit LOL

if you wanna see more more of my fic recs and favs, i have em all on my recs blog, here!! please note the navi page is still under construction!!

and of course, if you have any fic recs of your own, feel free to send em my way here or on my sideblog - i love finding new fics and writers!! 💜

may fic recs pt. 2

Alex Keller

sfw headcanons - @deadbranch

✧ super solid characterization for alex, like you took how i imagine alex to be and explained it in the perfect way. like this line alone "Bearing his thoughtful & intentional demeanor in mind, he is sometimes reticent as he considers how to respond." what is it like to be able to understand a character so well, and be able to so beautifully explain them??

Anakin Skywalker

redshift - @chaoskrakenuwu

✧ how dare you pull me back into my star wars hyperfixation, and even more so how dare you make me feel things for anakin goddamn skywalker 😭 even though i knew what was going to happen, you still have me tearing up every time i read about anakin and his big feelings

Arthur Morgan

until the last falling star || blood upon the snow - @lunallaa

✧ i always love me a good arthur morgan fic and this was absolutely fantastic!! i cannot wait to see where this goes, i know it's going to be amazing because you're characterization of arthur (and the rest of the gang) is *chef's kiss*

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

i fully blame @uselsshuman & @lunallaa for introducing me to tg:m and giving me brainrot and also cannot thank them enough!!

right now - @uselsshuman

✧ i'm such a sucker for characters holding in their feelings until a life or death situation when they finally confess, and you wrote it so great. i was giggling, and twirling my hair and cheering along with the rest of the squad at the end!!

i wanna hold you - @uselsshuman

✧ love me a good panic attack/comfort fic and this scratched that itch so unbelievably well!! it felt v close to my own experience with panic attacks and really hit home for me. very easily one of my fav new comfort fics!!

Carlos Oliveira

untitled - @cowboybxtch

✧ yeah i've been stunned to silence with this one absolutely no words just

David "Hesh" Walker

crimson fangs sing me lullabies - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ it's the way that i dropped everything to consume all 18k words of this fic like my entire life depended on it!! i've been turned into a hesh girlie, i am obsessed, taken over by the absolute perfection of this fic

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

darlin' loves only a game - @uselsshuman

✧ i need more "teaching someone how to play pool" fics in my life, esp ones like this!! the teasing, the hands on the hips, the flirty touching i need all of it. such a cute, fun fic emma i love it

would that i - @uselsshuman

✧ "The small tabby cat that had been your kitchen companion—affectionately named Sock for his one white paw." forget everything else, Sock is my new favorite character. this is a Sock stan account now. for real tho, i love the way you write jake and make him the perfect amount of tease and gentleman!!

Javy "Coyote" Machado

worry, my love - @uselsshuman

✧ ahh the source of my tg:m hyperfixation, i was so excited when you posted this and read it about 87 times and i'll probably read it 87 more time tbh. i love javy and the way you write him (and him using the word skedaddle LOL)

John "Soap" MacTavish

right person - @halcyone-of-the-sea

✧ how dare you. really, who gave you the right to do this to me? why must you hurt me in this way? why must you write so beautifully and so captivatingly that i literally could not put this down despite the ever growing pit in my stomach? you've ripped out my heart and crushed it to tiny pieces and all i can say is thank you and how dare you

cleaned up - @bloodyknucklesforme

✧ this was so cute, and omg i adore nina. she's so funny, and their banter and her little quips are adorable. “Next time have Kyle spray you down before you get back." adksadlj i love her.

memories are fresh - @mvtthewmurdvck

✧ it's not a fic rec list if i don't include a piece from jo that completely breaks my heart and then puts it all back together again with such beautiful words and sweet moments. idk how you manage to work my emotions so well, i'm in complete awe of your ability and talents.

infinity in the palm of your hand (eternity in an hour) - @yeyinde

✧ hello?? reincarnation!au??? soulmates??? not even a paragraph in and i'm completely bewitched by this fic. i can't be expected to be normal after this, this fic has re-shaped the way i feel and think and read.

[thevalleyisjolly]

8 and 10 for Elrond?

My blorbo! Thank you so much, anon! <3

8) Made-up connections with other characters that weren't in the canon (friends, enemies, whatever)

I mean, I am all about Elronduil, absolutely one of my favourite ships to the point that I wrote an essay about it for a fanzine once. Have they met in any of the canon texts? Nope! Do I find the similarities and the differences between both their in-universe characters and their narratives roles fascinating? Yep!

I am forever changing my mind between Elrond and Sauron never meeting outside of the Annatar thing, and Elrond and Sauron having one terrifying battlefield encounter that technically and barely ends up a draw. On the one hand, I like the idea that Sauron has never met Elrond one-on-one and fundamentally fails to understand him or the way he works. On the other hand, I also like the idea of them meeting on the battlefield once, briefly, during the War of the Elves and Sauron. Maybe Elrond's doing something with Song, and Sauron, who's already hunting for the Elvish commanders, notices and goes for him? Elrond, despite his many skills and accomplishments, is not a match for Sauron in terms of raw power, but what he has got is friends. For the minute or so that they fight, he spends a good part of it losing, but the important part is that he doesn't actually lose and holds out long enough for Celeborn and others to come in with an assist/distraction, at which point he pulls out some Maiar bullshit and summons a magical fog or something which even Sauron can't pierce through that enables all of them to retreat.

10) Content about them I'd like to see more of

Oh, where to start? I'd love to see more Elrond content that really engages with the mortal part of his heritage. Very understandably, he's often interpreted through an Elvish lens because he did choose that fate, but I think it'd be interesting to see the ways in which he relates to and identifies with his mortal heritage - and then narratively, that as a way to think about what defines humanity and what being human means.

His reaction to Númenor's destruction is something I think about on a regular basis, as is the founding of Imladris during the War of the Elves and Sauron. I like to imagine Sauron absolutely losing his shit over why he can't find this one haphazard band of refugees and soldiers, while they're camped out in the valley, just doing their best to make it another day, another week, another month, another year. More of Elrond on Númenor, being the best uncle to his nephews and nieces! And post-apocalyptic loremaster Elrond after the War of Wrath, although this is admittedly a little more headcanon-y.

I'd love to see more of Elrond in Aman, and his relationships with literally everyone there except Maglor and/or the House of Fëanor. All my love to every fic writer who has written an Aman fic where Elrond is a main character and he doesn't exist in the story solely/primarily to offer unconditional forgiveness to and advocacy on behalf of the House of Fëanor. I'd love to see Elrond and his parents reuniting, Elrond getting to meet and build relationships with all the family he never got the chance to meet in Middle-earth, Elrond and Bilbo (and sometimes Gandalf) raising very good-natured hell together, Elrond and Celebrían doing literally anything.

On which note, of course, Celrond. I am loving the Celrond renaissance I've been seeing lately, and it's truly something the world needs more of.

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs - Post Production: Day Don’t Break Yet

Primary Pairing Trio: LanzMiaShio Rating: G? Words: 652 AU: Monsters, Cyptids, Angels Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: Sometime after the main story Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Daybreak

---------

Author’s Note: Bonus second entry for the first prompt. It’s been a hectic month already, so all I’ve been able to do is post to the Discord channel. Thus, please forgive the burst of posts... I’ve still managed to find scraps of time to types stuff out on my phone or tablet.

Summary: Mia notices the sun rising and...

---------

Mia opened her eyes.

Wow… what a sight. Two lovely women laying beside her. Lanzhu and Shioriko. Her girlfriends. The two she loved most.

She could write a song about it. Maybe a play if she included everything leading up to it. With some artistic flourishes of course; the stage demanded its share of melodramatics.

She could see it now. The prima donna singing about being dragged around the world by a bossy friend to open a business. A large group song about a rivalry between them and another business nearby. A smaller group song where members from each side find peace in a neutral area.. The prima donna getting a solo about falling in love with the bossy friend despite her already being in a relationship, with lyrics implying she had fallen for her girlfriend as well. Then a grand finale with the couple accepting her into the fold.

A play based on actual events. Mia chuckled to herself.

But would the audience believe it?

Honestly, it still felt a little unbelievable.

For a moment, Mia wondered if she should include some of the more… supernatural aspects of the events. Would that bolster the audience's suspension of belief? If they could stretch their imaginations far enough to include some mythical madness, they could deal with some of the seemingly miraculous events among the characters. So long as everything fit for how the characters were presented, it would be fine, right? After all, the theater up the street constantly included supernatural shenanigans in their plays, and their audiences loved it.

But a jackalope accepted into a relationship with a vampire and an angel? That… may still be too unbelievable. And yet, here they were.

Lanzhu had wasted no time in inviting, or rather insisting that Mia move in with her and Shioriko. Literally the afternoon after Mia had caught Shiroriko drinking Lanzhu's blood, Lanzhu told Mia she had hired movers for her. Mia was to pack what she needed for the night and they would take care of the rest the next day.

She was as bossy and pushy as ever, though Mia knew it was just how Lanzhu dealt with awkward social interactions. And under different circumstances, Mia may have resisted, but she couldn’t see a reason to, as it was something she knew she wanted.

Movement caught her eye.

Light poured through the window and crept along the floor.

Daybreak. Not Mia’s favorite time, but if this was her new morning view, perhaps she could get used to it.

But then, she felt herself frown as her gaze found Shioriko…

Wait… Sunlight. Shioriko was a vampire.

Damnit!

Mia changed into her jackalope form and hopped over her girlfriends. From the edge of the bed, she launched herself toward the window. In midair, she shifted back, grabbed the draw rod and yanked.

“Ehhh?” Lanzhu yawned. “Mia? What’s with the racket?”

“Sun… Shioriko…”

Lanzhu laughed.

Huh?

“Nnn…” Shioriko stirred. “What’s…?”

“Mia just saved your life.” Lanzhu said.

“…?”

“Why would you be so careless as to leave the curtains open like that?” Mia accused.

“…?”

“Sun. Vampire.”

Shioriko yawned. “I’m not vulnerable to that anymore.”

“Ever since she started drinking my angelic blood.” Lanzhe declared proudly. “And really, you’ve seen her during the day before.”

Mia flushed as she remembered. Geez… she really didn’t think clearly this early in the morning…

“But thank you, Mia.” Shioriko said, rubbing her eyes. “Your thoughtfulness is appreciated.”

“Now come back here.” Lanzhu slid away from Shioriko and patted the area between them. “We don’t have to be up for a little while yet.”

Still embarrassed, Mia moved to take the offered spot. Shioriko and Lanzhu snuggled in once she was settled, the former back asleep instantly while the latter contented in playing with Mia's hair.

Mia allowed herself to enjoy the affection. Perhaps some other day, she could break out her other concerns. For now…

---------

Author’s Note Continued: I first started writing for this trio earlier this year during IFH’s Fantastic Departure event. And surprisingly posted the first fic to the ship tag over on AO3. Now, several months later, I’ve written a little more for them. And I would very much like to write even more, so long as my µ’s muse cooperates, of course.

[giantroboticplatypusbutt218]

Boiling Point

This is Part 1 of the Magnetic Attraction series.

Rating: General Audiences

Content Warnings: Fantastic Racism, Internalized Homophobia, Canon-Typical Violence.

Summary: The Loonatics get called in to prevent a planet’s energy crisis, and as Heroes of the Universe, they are more than up to the challenge. However, upon arrival, the team notices a certain biotech problem they couldn’t account for. With tensions growing and relationships being brought into question, what was supposed to be a simple repair job may turn out to be less simple than they first thought.

Word Count: 20,907

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (Link to chapter on Ao3)

~

Chapter 5

Word Count: 4328

~

“Thank you all again,” Wattney said as she finished escorting the team back up to the roof. “Had it not been for your work, the entire quadrant would have experienced a blackout, causing so much damage and endangering so many lives. I cannot stress how much I appreciate what you have done.”

“Aw, it was nothing,” Ace said. By now, his migraine lessened enough that he could open his eyes. “We’re heroes; It’s what we do.” 

“Actually, it wasn’t nothing,” Duck huffed. “I got punched in the bill by a possessed coyote, nearly got blasted with boiling water, and fell onto my face from fifty feet in the air.” He crossed his arms, nodding toward Wattney. “So I will accept your gratitude. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“Ace was trying to be humble,” Lexi said to him under her breath. 

“No, it is completely fair to be upset over those unfortunate circumstances,” Wattney said. “I apologize that you had to go through those things, and thank you for your contributions.” 

“I uh, well…” Duck rubbed his neck. “I-It was nothing! I’m a hero, after all!” 

Ace and Lexi snorted at his turnaround.

The wormhole for heading back to HQ opened high above their heads. Slam pointed up to it and grunted to get the team’s attention. 

“Hey Duck, want me to take you back right now?” Rev immediately asked.

“Yes please,” he responded emphatically. 

Rev flew into the air so Duck could grab his ankles, but was stopped by Wattney’s shout. 

“Wait!” 

With a whine, he landed back on the ground. 

“Rev, I am terribly sorry about what you went through,” she said. “I am so grateful that you continued to help us despite everything. If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, I will do it.” 

“Just… try to keep the generator running,” he said before flying up again. 

“See you guys back at HQ!” Duck said, grabbing onto Rev before being carried through the wormhole. 

“What I said applies to you as well, Tech,” Wattney said, drawing his attention. “I am grateful for your immense amount of help, and terribly sorry for what you went through.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving her off with his free hand. “That wasn’t my first mind control rodeo. It happens when you’ve got a brain everyone wishes they had!” He let out a weak laugh, ending in an awkward cough. 

“Still,” Wattney continued, “if there’s any way to make it up to you, I will.” 

“What Rev said,” Tech insisted, adjusting the hand that carried his briefcase, as well as a trash bag filled with the trashed jetpacks. “Just keep the place running, and we’ll be good.” 

With that, Tech walked over to Slam who was patiently waiting off to the side. “You mind taking me back first?” he asked. 

Slam shook his head, kneeling down so Tech could get on his shoulders. Being the only person left with a functioning jetpack, he had accepted his duty to fly the rest of the team through the wormhole without issue. 

Rev was supposed to help too, but clearly, he wasn’t up to making multiple trips right now. 

Tech gave a “goodbye” to Wattney as Slam lifted off the ground.

“Lexi,” Wattney pointed out next, “I must personally thank you for taking good care of Joule. And also for returning Volten’s synapper to him. It means so much that you treated them with kindness, even after how they hurt you and your friends.” 

“Well, even if they aren’t too great to us, it wouldn’t have been fair to be mean to those little creatures that only want to help.” 

Joule chirred happily.

Slam landed by Lexi’s side, already kneeling to let her up. 

“I guess it’s time for me to go!” She hopped onto Slam’s shoulders, waving at Wattney. “Goodbye!” 

As Slam and Lexi went into the air, only Ace and Wattney were left. 

“Ace, thank you for bringing your team here to help us. I think I could learn a lot from how you handled your team when things became dire.” 

“That’s very flattering Wattney, but I think we’re just used to things being dire after two years of doing this stuff. My commands are only as good as the people following them.”

“And it seems I have much to go over with my employees. Perhaps I should enforce monthly drills…” She hummed in thought. “I’ll figure out the logistics once everything is cleaned up.”

“You don’t mind, right? I offered to clean-”

“-You already did so much today,” she insisted. “Let me do the bare minimum of letting you relax after a long day’s work. You’ll finally have a chance to take something for your headache.”

“That would be nice…” Ace said, still feeling a throb of pain every so often. 

Slam made his way back again, landing next to Ace.

“Ah, Slam. I must personally thank you as well,” Wattney said. “Even after working yourself to total exhaustion, you still went back to continue heating the boiler with what little energy you had left. It was clearly a tremendous effort and I appreciate what you did.”

Slam mumbled to himself, entirely flattered. 

“Well Slam,” Ace announced, “think it’s time we head back?” 

He nodded, letting Ace hop onto him as well. 

“Goodbye you two!” Wattney called as they flew into the sky. 

“Goodbye Wattney! It was a pleasure to help!” 

And with that, the entire team was back at HQ and the wormhole closed.

~

Tech looked up at the lab door again. How many times he glanced up from his repairs to the door, he lost count. Whether the number was large from the length of time he waited or the number of times he looked, he didn’t know. The thought of checking a clock to find out filled him with too much dread to try. 

Sighing, he continued his work. What Rev said during the chase came true; He did come to regret breaking all the things he built later. 

Though, that wasn’t the only thing he was regretting right now. 

Pushing the jetpack he was working on forward, Tech crossed his arms onto the workbench and rested his head on top, letting out a low whine. 

“I really did ruin everything, didn’t I?” 

Sure, it was mostly the synapper’s fault. Sure, Rev probably understands that under normal circumstances, he would never violate his boundaries like that. And sure, while Rev might not have known that their relationship was such a pressing issue in his mind, Rev would probably be able to accept and ignore that somewhat easily. 

But… the actual experience of being chased down for a kiss… that is probably going to stick in his mind for a while. No amount of rational thought can remove that kind of bad memory. And such a memory will definitely negatively influence Rev’s willingness to ever consider dating him. Heck… by the looks of it… Rev already doesn’t even want to speak with him anymore. 

Tech craned his neck to hide his face in his arms. He was a fast enough worker. He could give himself time to sulk now and finish repairing everything later. 

A part of him wanted to blame Duck for this. But, while using a kiss to convince Rev to date him was definitely influenced by him, had Duck not said anything, Tech is certain he would have done something equally stupid while possessed. Besides, blaming Duck wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t make Rev stop avoiding him. 

Though, Tech wished he knew what would. Rev might have said he’d meet him later, but that was clearly a fluke. He was hoping he’d have a chance to explain things. Maybe convince Rev that nothing has to change between them… But clearly, everything already had.

Then, an ear flicked as the sound of a metallic door opening caught his attention. He looked up and-

It was Rev. 

“Hey,” Tech greeted cautiously.

“Hey,” Rev greeted back in a similar manner. 

Tech slowly lifted himself off the workbench, but Rev continued to stand in the doorway. 

“So… you’re… willing to talk to me?” 

“I… uh… Yeah… I guess…” 

They stood in place… quiet, eyes averted, for several long seconds. Tech opened his mouth to ask Rev to close the door, but didn’t follow through. 

Finally, Rev glanced back at the opened doorway and sighed shakily, before stepping forward and letting it automatically close. However, that was as far as he went. 

After waiting a few more seconds, Tech accepted that this was the best he was going to get, and decided to get on with what he wanted to say. 

“I’m… sorry about all the stuff I did,” Tech said, rubbing his arm. “Even if my inhibitions were altered by the synapper, the actions I took while under its power still happened, and represented my desires regardless.” 

Rev shifted in place, remaining silent by the door. 

Taking a deep breath, Tech continued. 

“I put you through a lot of distress, and I won’t ask you to forgive me for it. I just want you to know that… that this doesn’t have to change anything between us.”

“Doesn’t have to change anything?!” Rev shouted, throwing up his hands. “This changes everything! ” 

“Rev-!”

“You can’t just admit to secretly having the desire to eat me and then expect me to ignore that!-”

“-Wait what?-”

“-I mean seriously that isn’t just something I can brush aside!-”

“-Hold on-”

“-With how smart you are I can’t believe how dumb you think I am!-”

“-I WANTED TO KISS YOU, REV!”

“Wh-” Rev choked on his words, blinking in shock. 

Then. 

“You seriously thought I wanted to eat you?!” 

“Uh…” Rev stood with his jaw hanging for a moment. Then, his eyes shifted to the side, and he cowered slightly. “Oh…”

“Unbelievable,” Tech huffed. Then, he crossed his arms. “Actually, you know what? It’s entirely believable. Why else would my forcefully uninhibited mind cause me to chase after you? Because I really wanted to kiss my best friend of two years? Pshh! Yeah right! Obviously it was because I had some deep dark desire to eat him. After all, it would be ridiculous for a roadrunner to date a coyote, right?”

“I thought,” Rev said weakly, “you felt lucky that I wouldn’t be into you, after what you said last year…” 

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.” He turned away, closing his eyes. “And I hoped that… maybe you did too. But clearly, I was wrong.” 

“You weren’t!” Rev yelped, rushing forward and accidentally slamming into the opposite end of the worktable. Quickly recovering, he rearranged the displaced materials and stood straight, opening his mouth to speak. However, nothing came out. 

Tech glanced over his shoulder, giving an unimpressed frown before sighing. His head hung toward his crossed arms, ears drooping. “I don’t know why you feel the need to lie. Regardless of your feelings, I think you’ve made it clear that you’d never consider dating me. That my species and gender are a deal breaker to you.” 

“I…” 

Silence. 

“What’re you standing there for? Leave me alone so I can get back to work.” He let out a laugh in dark humor. “Besides, I missed lunch. You probably wouldn’t want to stick around while I’m hungry.”  

Tech stood there, listening for a sign that Rev was leaving, but heard nothing. Then, when he opened his mouth to make another remark, Rev spoke before he could. 

“I’m sorry, Tech…” 

Ears tried to perk up in curiosity, but Tech quickly trained himself back to his aloof, but secretly alert, pose. 

Rev sighed shakily, his voice forced into being even. “I was so focused on denying that I had feelings for you… that I didn’t even realize I was hurting you with everything I was saying. Despite how much I care, and would like to… date… you, nothing I’ve said has shown that…” He swallowed thickly, rubbing his arm. “Just because I have some weird hang ups about being with a coyote and a guy… that doesn’t mean it’s inherently wrong. And… immediately assuming you wanted to eat me… I think… is just a sign of a larger problem deep down that I need to deal with…” A deep breath. “Whatever happens after this, I just want you to know that I really am sorry, Tech. I promise I’ll start thinking things through and… working on my coyote issues. And, if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, I will.” 

There was a pause.

“Anything?” Tech said darkly. 

“Um…” Rev gulped. “Y-Yes. Anything.” 

Snorting in good humor, Tech turned around and placed his hand on a jetpack. “Help me patch up my poor babies.”

Rev lit up. “Uh, y-yeah! I can do that!” Swinging around, he got into position beside Tech. Then, he looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. “Uh, is this… okay? Did you want me to help somewhere else?” 

“Relax,” Tech said, sliding him the jetpack. “That’s the second thing you can do to make it up to me.” 

“Okay,” Rev peeped, taking some tools and getting to work. 

Soon, the air was filled with various metallic sounds. But, a noticeable lack of someone’s voice left an uneasy atmosphere. 

Tech quirked a brow, glancing at Rev. 

“You know I said ‘relax’, and not ‘be quiet’, right?” 

“…Do you want me to talk?” 

“I don’t want you to force yourself to be quiet.” 

“Oh…” Rev looked away, before giving him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I sorta thought you had enough of me talking for today.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Well I mean with all the times you forced me to shut up and yelled at me for-” The rest of his sentence got caught in his throat. He let out a strangled, nervous laugh. “Sorry. Nevermind. I just realized how dumb I was being. I don’t wanna make this about me.” 

“Then I’ll make it about you.” After a moment of thought, Tech sighed. “I do like hearing you talk, Rev. You always understand what I’m saying and have something informed to add. It’s just that, sometimes, you keep going despite the detriment to the current mission or even to your own safety. And sometimes you say so much even I have problems processing everything you’ve said. And then there are your terrible attempts to deny your feelings that just end up making you look worse.” 

“If talking so much is at best extremely annoying and at worst actively making things more dangerous, aren’t you justified in stopping me?” 

“Not by physically restraining you,” Tech asserted. He turned away, his posture dropping with guilt. “If you’re really in danger, I know that shouting loud enough will get your attention. And you’ve already promised to work on how you talk about me. That just leaves you saying so much so fast in regular conversation… which definitely doesn’t warrant such an extreme reaction from me.” 

“It’s not… that extreme…” 

“Rev.” 

Tech faced him head on, making sure he had his full attention before continuing. 

“Yelling at you… grabbing your beak… it isn’t right. I’ve always noticed how much it kills your mood… and just ignored it. Selfishly.” He sighed. “So, I’m sorry, Rev. I want my actions to reflect how much I care about you too. There shouldn’t be any question that you’re the greatest friend I could ever hope to have, even if you still have some things to work on.” 

“Yeah.” Looking away, he blushed slightly. “Thank you.” 

“It’s nothing, Rev. Just like anyone else, you deserve basic respect, especially if I ever hope to be someone worth going out with.”

“Okay.” 

Rev rubbed his arm awkwardly. 

Tech eyed him curiously. “Something up?” 

“Well it’s…” Anxiously, he brought his gaze to Tech. “What… happens now?” 

“We fix the jetpacks I regretfully destroyed?” 

“No, I mean…” Rev’s eyes drifted as he collected his thoughts. “I mean, I know that you tried to kiss me… And… you know that I want to… date… you.”  

“Oh.” Tech pursed his lips, before continuing his work. “Before this all started, I was trying to say that nothing had to change between us, and it’s still true.” His hands paused briefly, and he let out a sigh. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m under the impression you’re still not the most comfortable with the thought of actually dating me.” 

“You’re… right…” Rev admitted. 

“So, I’m not going to pressure you into it. If you want to start going down that path, then you can decide when we take the first step. Until then, we can be good friends who happen to have feelings for each other.” 

“That… sounds okay.” 

“Good. Now, let’s finish this up so I can get back to building new things, rather than repairing old ones.”

“Alright.” 

They began to work more comfortably, sometimes passing a specialty tool to the other when they needed it. Though, as they started to get into a good rhythm, something began eating away at the back of Rev’s mind.

“Hey, Tech?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Um,” he smiled sheepishly, “so I was kinda… fearing too much for my life after you caught me, so I didn’t actually see how you managed to get that synapper off.”

“Oh,” Tech said.

“So… how’d you do it? It was on for good until it wanted to come off. How’d you get it to?” 

“I uh… I’m not sure…” Tech bit his lip, running those events through his head. “Though… I might have a hypothesis…”

Putting down his tools, Tech focused his thoughts entirely on his words. 

“So, immediately after I had you restrained with that metal pole, I was working under the assumption that you were totally okay with me kissing you, or at the very least, just a little nervous about it. So, of course, the synapper would have been under the same impression as well, given that it was simply taking information from my own brain.”

Laughing sadly, he rubbed his arm. 

“But then,” he said, “as soon as I got close… you begged me to stop. Started crying. There… wasn’t any way I could interpret that as being just a little shy. As soon as I saw that, I knew you weren’t okay with any of it.” Tech coughed into his arm awkwardly. “Though, of course, I only thought that meant you didn’t want a kiss. I didn’t know that you thought I was gonna eat you.” 

Rev coughed awkwardly as well. “Y-Yeah…” 

“Anyway,” Tech slowly continued, “seeing you crying like that… so scared of me touching you… I think it reminded me that kissing you wasn’t… what I really wanted.” Face flushed red, he looked away. “What I wanted… more than anything… was for us to stay together… regardless of what kind of relationship we had…” He cleared his throat and ran a hand over his ears. “So… with that realization, the synapper figured out it wasn’t helping and loosened enough that I could pull it off.” 

Laughing nervously, he picked up his tools again. “But that’s just my best guess. Maybe it got tired or something, heh heh…” 

Tech hunched over his work, pretending like that conversation didn’t happen. The air was silent for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of Tech working filling the air. 

Then. 

“Hey, maybe we could go somewhere after this.” 

Tech’s head shot up and his eyes locked on Rev, entirely speechless. 

“L-Lunch! I mean. Go out on a lunch- I MEAN out to lunch! Not on a date- not that I said anything about a date- not that going on a date would be bad but- FORGET ABOUT THE DATE THING! Just two friends having lunch- even if it’s technically closer to dinner but dinner sounds too formal so just lunch- and there are no expectations of it being romantic and why aren’t you stopping me Tech?!”

Tech smirked, crossing his arms. “I said I wasn’t gonna stop you, didn’t I?” 

“Y-Yes you did! But that means that I have to be the one to stop talking and even if it really hurts to be shushed sometimes I might end up saying something embarrassing if I keep talking- and there you are still letting me talk- and am I even saying anything anymore- Back on topic! The date-! I MEAN THE LUNCH- I MEAN FRIENDS HAVING LUNCH-!”

Placing his hand on Rev’s shoulder cut off his rant. “Lunch sounds great,” Tech said simply. 

“Haha! Yeah! Awesome!” 

Finally, they both returned to their work. Though, as time passed, Rev slowly sidled up to Tech until they were touching shoulders. 

Tech didn’t mind whatsoever.

~

“So wait, Rev seriously thought Tech was trying to eat him?” 

“Well, yeah. That’s why he flew past me screaming, ‘Tech is trying to eat me help’.” 

“Hmm. I guess that explains why he was acting weird after the whole thing.” Duck tapped his bill in thought. “…Are you sure he isn’t stupid?” 

Lexi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, Duck. Just ignorant.” 

“That’s basically the same thing, isn’t it?”

Lexi opened her mouth to counter, but the sound of the lab door opening got her attention. She looked in the direction of it as chuckles filled the air. 

“Is it just disproportionate gravitational force,” Rev smooth talked, “or are your eyes just the Great Attractor?” 

Tech snickered softly. “You must be traveling at the speed of light, because whenever I look at you, time seems to stop.”

A flattered chuckle got caught in Rev’s throat as he and Tech finally walked within sight of Lexi and Duck. 

“Oh. Uh. Hi!” Rev greeted. 

“Hey guys!” Lexi greeted back with a wave.

“Okay that was totally flirting, right?” Duck muttered to Lexi. “Like, come on.” 

“So! Did you guys finish up the repairs, then?” 

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” 

“We sure did,” Tech said. “Though, I didn’t know you guys were going to be here, otherwise I would’ve grabbed your stuff from the lab before coming.”

“I’ll grab everything!” Rev said before rushing to the lab. 

“Hey Tech!” Duck called, not waiting for a reply. “Did you try out my advice?”

“Under the synapper’s mind control, I suppose an attempt was made.” 

“So it helped, right?” 

“No,” Tech stated flatly. “In fact, if I actually succeeded, it would have caused irreparable damage to my relationship with Rev.”

“Wait…” Lexi said, side eyeing Duck. “What advice?”  

Duck faltered. “Um… Hoo… Er…” 

Rev returned, setting two jetpacks on the coffee table. 

“There ya go! Everything’s all good to go which means Tech and I are good to go because right now we’re going out to lunch- Not like out like on a-” Rev paused, thinking to himself. “We’re having lunch. That’s all.” 

Tech gave a subtle nod of approval.

Rev smiled. “Well, time to go!” 

He was immediately by Tech’s side, but as soon as they reached for the door it was opened by Ace and Slam. 

“Hey Tech! Hey Rev!” 

“Hey Ace we’re having lunch- Actually wait a sec-!” 

Rev took off toward the lab again.

Ace smiled. “Rev seems excited; Definitely better than the glum mood he was in only an hour ago.” 

“Well, a nice chat can solve a lot of problems as it turns out.” 

In a flash, Rev was back and Ace’s jetpack was shoved into his arms with barely any time to react. 

“There, now you have your jetpack so there are no distractions so Tech and I are gonna go now bye!” 

With that Tech exclaimed “woah!” as Rev picked him up bridal style and rushed out the door with him. 

“Real excited,” Ace commented, walking toward the others with Slam. “I wonder what’s up with that.” 

“Well obviously they’re going on a date,” Duck stated. 

“That’s not what Rev just said.”

Slam nodded. 

“Yeah, well of course he’s gonna say that. I bet he doesn’t even know it’s a date.”

“If he doesn’t think it’s a date then it’s not a date,” Ace retorted. 

“Duck,” Lexi warned, “what ‘advice’ did you give Tech?” 

“What’re you talking about Lexi?” Ace asked.

“Duck here let slip that he gave Tech a little advice behind our backs, and Tech said something about it possibly ruining his relationship with Rev.”  

Ace slowly turned his head toward Duck, glaring. “What did you tell him, Duck?”

“Well… you know…” Duck smiled sheepishly, his head lowering at each scowl his eyes landed on. “Tech said that Rev and him obviously loved each other, so I told him to just go up to Rev and smooch him already.”

“Why would you tell him to do that?!”  

“He said Rev needed time to figure himself out and I thought a kiss would make him do it faster!” 

“Ugh.” Ace pinched the bridge of his nose. Lexi and Slam shared the sentiment. “Duck, that is the worst love advice I’ve heard in my entire life. Did Tech even ask for advice in the first place?” 

“Of course not. Most people don’t just ask for advice when they don’t even know they need it!” 

Lexi groaned. “Did it ever occur to you that you shouldn’t tell people how to deal with their personal lives without asking?”

“No. Why? Is it bad?” 

“YES!” everyone else said unanimously. 

“Geesh… I was just trying to help.” 

“Rev and Tech don’t need our help,” Ace said. “By the looks of it, I think they’re just fine how they are.”

“Ugh, but it’s so pathetic. Are you telling me I’m gonna be forced to watch them do nothing about their obvious feelings and I can’t say anything about it?”

“Yes. That is exactly what I’m saying.” 

Duck looked to Lexi and Slam for support, but they were both clearly on Ace’s side. 

He threw his head back, moaning out, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

Meanwhile, Rev and Tech couldn’t hear any of it, because they were too busy happily on their way to a late lunch.

~

Link to Magnetic Attraction Part 2 ->

[bubblyani]

The Scar

(Michael Demiurgos x Reader)

A Michael Demiurgos One Shot

Summary: It’s 4 am, and a daring act causes you to confess something important to Michael Demiurgos, Lucifer’s twin brother. All because of that scar.

Genre: Fluff (its worth it, trust me)

Word Count:

Author’s Note: @real-michael-demiurgos​​​ you genius! This post of yours somehow suddenly made me think of a scenario, which finally evolved into this fic of feels. Look what you made me do, Thank you! And Michael fans, hello again! And Enjoy y’all!

Temporary. The highs, the peaks or the climaxes of almost anything in life is quite short-lived.

The same applies to the atmosphere in a night club. Crowds congregate, energy created, dollars spent and sparks caused between known folk or mere strangers. But come a certain time, it all slows down, alcohol wears down and exhaustion creeps in. And the lingering folk would find shelter in the available seats of sofas and bar stools in the premises.

That was LUX at around 4 am.

The floors may not have been dirty and sticky as the other clubs. Yet the atmosphere was quite similar to the rest. And there you were, sitting on the barstool you’ve made home for several hours, watching a certain Angel refill his lowball glass.

And no, it was not the infamous Angel who owned this establishment. But his twin, the one who owned a recently “gifted” scar.

The scar. A hint of sadness crept over you, which you shook away at an instant.

“I swear, my kidneys won’t last a WEEK if I keep up with you” You exclaimed. “So you always tell me” Michael grinned, proceeding to clink his 15th glass of vodka with your 3rd.

In hopes of being a hospitable human, and a supportive friend to Lucifer, you went out of your way to befriend his twin brother Michael a few months earlier. Despite the short period he intended to remain on earth, you vowed to show him the positivities of living amongst humanity and to prove how it changed Lucifer for the better. You hoped through this, he even consider being a better sibling to both Lucifer and Amenadiel, making amends for the damages caused by stealing Morningstar’s identity leading to sabotage.

In honesty, Lucifer found your faith in his brother quite futile, and he never failed to mention in to you every now and then.

“Darling, he’s the ‘pooper’ to my ‘party. The ‘kill’ to my ‘buzz’. I certainly don’t see what good will come of him being here” you remembered his distinctive response from one time.

Amenadiel as expected, admired your generosity. “I know you’re not that religious, but I hope you know my father would be proud to see humans such as yourself here on earth” his soothing timbre was just as comforting as his pat on your back. Yet, it did not stop him from warning you about his brother’s deceitful nature.

Michael on the other hand, found your attempt of bonding quite uninteresting at first. Similar to a teenager reacting to their parent’s futile attempts of humor. However, once drinks came into add flavor to the conversation, a friendship was formed. Your attempts were strengthened when he found some interest in your line of work. Thus, enabling you both to work together. Only after you succeeded in convincing your boss in the Law Firm.

“A Consultant? Ah just like his brother, Lucifer” “Well, a Special Legal Consultant, Joseph” you remembered correcting your boss as you introduced Michael to him. The older man was impressed to your relief. 
“Wow! This is a treat. Justice certainly runs in the family, isn’t that right, Mr. Morningstar?” “Demiurgos, actually. Not Morningstar” Michael corrected whilst clearing his throat. “Oh, I’m sorry” leaning to you, “is that a pseudonym?” Joe inquired in a whisper. To which you just shrugged, “Not sure. Maybe it’s cause he’s not a fan of nepotism? You know with Lucifer at LAPD-” “Ah! Of course” clapping his hands out loud, Joseph extended his wrinkled hand, “I admire your principles… Mr.Demiurgos” he stressed, shaking his hand. The pleased and acknowledged look Michael wore was unforgettable in your memory.

Flash forward to the present, he still wore the same expression. And you could not be more proud of him. With the insecurities he braved enough share with you over alcohol, it was a development to find him more confident and in his element and providing service to humanity.

Even if that meant protecting justice via conquering mountains of paper work.

A song of a slow yet moderate rhythm began to play, And in contrast, Maze surprised you both by slapping her hands on both pairs of shoulders.

“Hmmm…Weird” she said.

“Guilty!” To which you and Michael both replied in sync, leading to chuckles. Maze however, was not amused. “I mean, Weird to see YOU here so late” the demon stressed, squeezing between both stools, “What about the ‘oh, no no. I’m too old. I have work tomorrow’ excuse, Miss Associate Attorney?” “First of all, great impression of me” you replied, “But tonight, WE are celebrating…” “…on closing the case”  to which Michael finished with pride. Maze’s eyes widened: “ You mean, THAT case?” She inquired, receiving both your nods of agreement.

A certain domestic abuse case caught your attention a few weeks back through a social worker contact. While trying to raise her son, a mother struggled with survival trying to save her job and not get permanent bedridden by the violent harassment of her estranged husband. It surprised you how Michael and even Maze grew quite sensitive to this case, thus enabling them to use all of their energy to help to make a legal case.

“Thanks to you, Maze, we found that S.O.B of a husband” Michael began, raising his glass to her. Now it was your turn to widen your eyes: “Did…Michael just use the word S.O.B?” Maze cackled, “Looks like the nerd is learning” Offended, Michael’s eyebrows lifted, “Nerd? Excuse me?” “Oh, Come on! Mr.I-love-Paperwork? Like that’s any cooler ” “I think we found your new Pseudonym, Michael” you laughed, watching him shake his head at you very amused, “And tomorrow, thanks to the BOTH of you” you added, pointing at them, “I… can actually take a Bray off-I mean… a Day off. Hah!” You could not help but laugh at your slurring, “Whoo! Someone’s tipsy” you said, trilling your lips as you pushed your drink away.

Agreed. As careful as you were to slow down your intake throughout the whole night, you finally were feeling the effects. Being more light footed than usual, for example. Those first steps of intoxicated whimsy.

“Alright!” Maze volunteered, finishing the rest of your drink, “Lemme know if you need a ride home, Missy” she said to you before looking glancing upon Michael, “See you, Weirdo”

Scoffing, the angel watched her return to a group of eager women in the corner sofa. “First nerd, now Weirdo?” Michael inquired, very much confused. “Well, isn’t it obvious?” You both jumped upon hearing Maze’s response from afar, “Scar-face!” She added with tease. The Scar. A sense of sadness came over you. Especially when you noticed Michael hunching all the sudden.

He sighed, “Once a torturer, always a torturer” he muttered to himself, resting his weaker right arm on the table, looking at his glass. It was evident he caught his own reflection in the glass, especially the reflection of that mark on his face.

“Awww, don’t mind her” you said, turning to him fully, “She’s a big softie but doesn’t even know it” you added, in attempt to change the subject. He chuckled: “Unbiased” he looked at you, “You’ve not changed a bit, Thank you” warmth carried in his tone. For he meant it.

Nodding to each other, you both fell into silence staring into their glasses. Just then, you realized.

“Michael…” you turned in your stool towards him once again, “I hope you know, I wouldn’t have been able to go through so many cases in such a short time if it wasn’t for you, Thank you”

Which made him stare at you with surprise,

“Why are saying all this all the sudden?” He inquired.

“Well, I just realized you’re going away soon” Jaw dropped, it seemed Michael also just realized it, “Of course” he scoffed, “How could I forget?” Smiling which seemed not as enthusiastic.

“I just hope you know that, you helped a lot of people while you were here. You did good. And… I’m proud of you”

Heaviness existed in your heart all the sudden uttering those words. The realization that one day, he will offer you one last look, wish you well and fly out of your life, possibly forever. You will definitely miss him. More than you could imagine. Sitting straight up once again, Michael flashed a soft smile: “Well, You’re very welcome” Your heart felt a slight warmth. For it was a smile that suited him. A smile he did not have months before. A smile that softened the hardness brought on by his scar.

“Your Scar!” Those words left your mouth so quick, Michael almost spat his drink, “…do-does it still hurt?”

And there it was, that hunched posture of his had returned. Your heart grew heavier. It could have not been helped. Ever since you met him, you swore yourself you would not dare engage in that topic with him. Yet, tonight.

A slower song began to play in the club. Averting his eyes for a few seconds, Michael looked at you only to scoff: “Please!” He began, looking back at his glass, “You make it sound like it hurt in the first place” And there he was, in denial. “Ugh!” You rolled your eyes, “Pride doesn’t look good on you” “Oh yeah? Wait-What are you-” Nothing could prevent you from sliding off your bar stool. And certainly no force could have prevented you from cupping his face. Just so you could take a proper look at it.

“Whoa!” You breathed, “That demon blade is no joke, huh?” You inquired, your fingers running through his dark, messy hair just to push it back. Michael cleared his throat: “It’s fine I-” “No, it’s not” Your insistence doused with hurt, was stressed as you looked at him straight. Taking a deep breath, you went: “Deserved or not, it definitely must have hurt. And that’s important to acknowledge that”

How could you not have talked to him about this before? If you did not, who would have?

The mere thought could tempt you towards tears. A side of you felt liberated. As if you could feel sorry for him without any bounds. Syncopated with the rhythm of the song in the background, your fingers longed to trace the scar. From his forehead, over his nose and towards his right cheek. You longed to be gentle. To be inquisitive. Your fingers, that were. Posing the important queries: Did anyone ever care about this? Did anyone really not ask him? Before your heart could feel heavier, you craved to permit your lips make contact with the broken skin instead. Posing different queries: Did it take long to heal? Did not a single soul bother to tend to this wound when it was still fresh? No one around to provide him the comfort he needed when he screamed? You longed to press your lips on it, making a silent prayer for him.

“Whoa! What’s this?” Maze’s inquisitive words caused you to blink. You gasped.

For there you were, cupping Michael’s face, not only to imagine tending to his scar. But to have done it in real time. Your longings were not longings at all, but real actions. It was evident by the surprised expression in his face. Along with Maze, and most folk lingering close by.

Cheeks heating up, your airways began to feel clogged up. “I-um-” hands leaving his face in flash, you looked down, “excuse me-” With your heart beating in high speed, all you knew was that you longed for some air. Before you suffocated to death.

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

“Linda! I know you’re sleeping right now. Unless you’re feeding Charlie or something but-whatever! I'm sending this cause… I need to talk to you later. I uh-I think I did something kinda crazy. It’s…it’s about Michael, actually. Just-call me when you see this in the morning”

Pressing the SEND button on your phone, you looked up. Deep breaths were all you could take as you stood outside. Your exhales appeared in the form of white fog in the narrow and dark alleyway just few blocks away from LUX. With very little people outside at the time, you had space to recollect and realize what on earth you just did.

You only hugged Michael once in all the 3, 4 months you knew him. And even then you were aware he was not the biggest fan of it. Yet, then again it was quite early on. You had promised yourself if you were ever to hug him again, it only would be when he eventually leaves earth. Or when he felt ready to indulge in it.

But what could have possibly driven you to go this far?

All the sudden, you were very much aware of the chill in the air tonight. Shivering, you held onto your forearms to rub them. With eyes closed, you leaned against the cool, brick wall. The mere thought of touching his face brought you goosebumps. Not to mention planting your lips on his face. Pressing your lips together, you attempted to recall the feeling of his skin. Hypnotic was all you could remember. The manner in which he let out a soft gasp then at that moment, forced a heavy sigh out of you. Did you by chance ruin everything? Did you embarrass him with vulnerability? Will he never show his face to you again? Will you never hear his voice?

“THERE you are!”

You jumped, upon hearing Michael’s voice just then. Opening your eyes, there he stood before you with a look of pure, innocent relief. As if he had found something he had lost in desperation, “What are you doing HERE?” He inquired.

“I-uh” with a nervous chuckle, you shrugged, “Just needed some air-Wait!” You paused, “Were you…looking for…me?”

Michael threw you a look, as if you had lost your mind, “Of course I was” he cried out, “You left so quickly I had no idea where you’d gone”

And that was when a query in you, was answered involuntarily. All the while you watched this Arch Angel go out of his way to explain his desperate search for you: 

“I was looking for you everywhere. In the toilets, the office rooms. Hell! Even at Lucifer’s Penthouse, and you KNOW how I am not invited there anymore. But thankfully he wasn’t there…”

Warmth trickled down your heart and soul when all your inner queries received answers. Answers that had been living in you, dormant for some time. And you knew you did not need to wait for Linda’s opinion anymore.

“And finally! I came out to look. And who knew there was an alleyway or whatever you call them-” “Michael…” His name was soft on your lips, silencing him in an instant.

Even more so when you were brave enough to take a step towards him.

And cup his face once more. His tone matched up to yours when he uttered your name in return. Except with confusion. Gulping deep, you let out a shaky breath:

“I think…” you shook your head, “not think-I KNOW…” nodding with certainty, your eyes searched for his, taking another deep breath: “…that I have feelings…for you…”

Those beautiful orbs of his, they widened. With liberation taking over your system, you gazed at them deeper. Lips parting, Michael’s confused, tense face began to loosen at last: “So…what happened at LUX a few minutes ago-”

“Impulse move” A sad smile formed on your face, “An impulse move, planned for a long time” you scoffed, “A part of me didn’t wanna admit it. More times, actually. I told myself I was being delusional. But with every case we did, I realized time is short for a human like me. And I-” you paused, “I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life regretting it” your left thumb touched his scar, “I care about you, Michael. Very much” you said, when the thumb began to trace down the healed skin, causing his eyes to flutter, “I don’t care if I was the first or the millionth one to say that to you, I don’t” you breathed with affection, listening to his shivers, “I care for you regardless” the more you spoke, the braver you began to feel. And his look of genuine surprise was the cherry on top, “I care enough to love you like any lover would do and more, Or…” gulping, you wore a sad smile, “I care for you enough to just stay friends, if that is what you choose” Tears were a certainty in a few seconds when the worst scenario came to mind, “And care enough to leave you alone forever, if I had ruined this for the both of u-”

Until all the sudden, your tears were on hold. 
When Michael hushed your lips, with his very own.

Waves of shock traveled through you, for the mere thought of his lips touching yours was nothing but a fantasy. Pulling away, you looked at him with wide eyes: “What-” you mumbled, “…that was?-”

“An impulse move” he breathed, his nose brushing against yours before his softened eyes locked in with yours: “… planned for a long time”

Complete disbelief took control of you for a mere few seconds, until happiness, until euphoria poked its head in. Until it entered and convinced you, this was the first ever time you felt this amount of joy. And set your heart to dance to the fastest, grooviest song ever. That acknowledgement, his acknowledgment rang in your ears longer than it should.

“Well…” you whispered, hands still holding his face, “do you wanna make that move again?”

“YES-” Michael’s enthusiastic response was the fuel to the little spark he caused in you, creating an absolute fire when both lips reunited in a fully fledged kiss.

Passionate, lips fed each other as if the kiss was a fine meal after being starved for days. As if the kiss was water after thirsting in a scorching desert. All for an Angel who was never given the love he once deserved, and a woman who badly longed to provide him that said-love. Except both never dared to admit it all.

Until now. Hidden desires had seen the light.

Despite your greed to linger in his lips forever, you yet managed to pull away, only to place a trail of hungry kisses over his scar. From the top that rested on his forehead, through his nose and ending with his right cheek, each kiss was long and warm and assuring. Moans left your lips when you sensed Michael’s hungry mouth began to feast on your jawline and neck til then. Deprivation of love, or the self denial of it leads to great frustration. And this was the result.

“Oh, Michael-” you cried, before attacking his lips once again. Kissing back, the angel held you tighter. Even his right arm seemed to have forgotten its ailment. This time, his tongue made it’s eager debut. But so did yours. Enveloping tightly, they deepened their kiss, causing the two to lean against the brick wall for support. For you felt weightless, with endless flight of butterflies going mad in your stomach. So mad, the heat, the fire had traveled down to the region between your thighs. You wondered if it was the mere celestial effect, or the intensity of your attraction with Michael that led you to this level of arousal. You were certain fire would literally engulf you, if it was not for the loud taxi passing by, causing you both to pull away in shock.

“If-” Michael panted, “if this is you…asking me to stay back a little longer-” “I am” you answered breathless, “But, only if you want to-” “I want to…”

His quick response, that enthusiasm, seemed more precious to you than all the money in the world at that very moment. The morning chill had no effect on you, all the sudden. Running your fingers over his scar once again, you took a deep breath:

“When I said I have feelings for you-ah!…” you gasped when his lips kissed your hand, “…it’s…it’s not only for one side of you, it’s not only for your good, your virtues. It’s also for the bad, your sins, intentional or accidental” you whispered gazing into his eyes. Breath shaking with emotion, his lips formed into a soft smile:

“You mean it?” He inquired.

Smiling in return, you kissed the tip of his nose, “Every… single… corner of yourself…” you confirmed, pressing his hand over your chest, “…they have my heart .Y-YOU have my hear-”

Passion had zero patience when Michael’s lips crashed into yours once again.

“Do you-” he breathed into your lips, “ …wanna go back inside?” He inquired, motioning towards LUX. You shook your head.

“No, I wanna go home” you answered, tugging at his turtleneck collar while biting your lower lip, “But only if you come with me…”

Sheer longing, and sheer lust was evident in your tone, and also in your eyes. Not to mention every cell in your entire body. You needed him tonight, in more ways than one. And like a sponge, Michael absorbed it all, sharing your sentiments exactly when his eager lips swooped in to agree, while his wings flapped open to fly with purpose.

And he had his scar to thank.

——————————————————

Check my other Michael fic : Vent HERE

Tagged: @ladyofwalpurgis​​​​​​ @kittenlittle24 @aberrant-annie​​​​​​ @ellimcgiseler​​​​​​ @therealcap​​​​​​ @valentina15 @sunflowersglowing​​​​​​ @jellicorn05 @sailor-earth-1 @xxbeckybeexx-blog​​​​​​ @shittylittleweirdo​​​​​​ @blessedherondales​​​​​​ @tangsweet​​​​ @literallyshawn​​​​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​​​​​​ @panicattheeverywherekid​​​​​​ @kittengirl998  @wonderwinchester​​​​​ @real-michael-demiurgos​​ @fanfictionsilove​​​​ @rogertaylorismycar​​​ @stephv213​ @chipster-21​ @thatfictionalwh0re​ @tea-effect​ @brittbunny123

Wanna get Tagged?

Like Lucifer? Then Check My LUCIFER MASTERLIST here :)

[taehoneys]

BAD GUY | THREE

+ A night with Jungkook only complicates things further between you two.

A certain video circulates the school after your big mistake and you never do mistakes, but you did this time… a big one: J e o n J u n g k o o k

— Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Taehyung

— Genre: Drama

— AU(s): College!AU Fratboy!AU

— Warnings: Fingering, Oral, choking, all kinds of sex, okay? Oh, and sometimes it's unprotected.

— Word Count: 5.4K

— Note: This is the first actual fic that I will post to Tumblr! I’m nervous/excited. I hope you enjoy it.

PLAYLIST ♪ | MASTERLIST | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

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

03; No good girls

Jungkook was so annoyed with Taehyung that he was ready to just give him the finger and head into his room. But what's new? From the womb (and surely to the tomb), Taehyung and Jungkook have been inseparable. They weren't twins, but their mothers were best friends that had raised them as such that they believed it throughout primary (despite their birthdays being months apart). So, of course, the two were constantly getting on each other's nerves all the time, but neither of them gave each other room to breathe, so that was on them. Scratch that, currently, it was on Taehyung.

"Vape in my face one more time," Jungkook threatened with his eyes, taking a moment away from the smutty conversation happening on his phone.

Taehyung who's leaning on the other side of the couch, legs tucked in, brings the Juul device to his lips, taking a long drag as he stares into Jungkook's eyes. He playfully crosses them before parting his lips seconds later to allow the vape to come out of his mouth, giggling at Jungkook's irritation.

"Fuck's sake, Taehyung, why don't you just go get high in your room?"

"Can't get high," Taehyung responds. "I forgot my weed pen in my sweater."

"Okay, and? Where's your sweater?"

Taehyung’s lip curls into a smirk, "With my girl."

Taehyung’s comment surprises Jungkook. He and Taehyung were slightly different in how Taehyung actually got into relationships, though they were almost always short term since Taehyung got bored easily. "You got a girl?"

Taehyung shrugs.

Dropping the conversation, Jungkook turns back to his phone, nibbling on his lips as he reads the millionth "I want you to cum inside me so bad" sext he's ever received. He taps the side of his phone as he watches the 3 dots dance, indicating the girl was still typing. With the vibration of his phone, the bubble pops up: "I'm such a bad girl". Jungkook snorts as he slides down the couch enough for his neck to rest against the back of it. Nina wasn't that great of a sexter he'll admit, but she was hot and easy.

He never understood why people took that as a bad thing. It just means that they're able to cut to the chase and get to hitting it. He liked that. He wasn't looking for a relationship. What did he care about what their favorite song was or how many kids they wanted? A simple, "What's your major? Oh, cool. Wanna head upstairs?" would do.

Yeah, he loved it easy.

So then why was he hesitating to respond to Nina's "Can I come over?" text? Why were his thoughts drifting away to the night he met you? Teased you? Felt you? Fucked you? Maybe it was because you were his hardest fuck - and he meant that in every way.

Feeling the heat come up his neck, Jungkook tilts his head up as he bites down on his lip harshly. That night, he hadn't expected you to come to the party. In fact, he forgot he even invited you at all. Yet, as he ran down the stairs to his bedroom, there you were making your way inside with a couple of others he recognized in your frat - Yoongi and... Juli, was it? His eyes only briefly landed on theirs before drawing to your tiny red satin dress, which rode up slightly as you took your step into the house. The two of you said nothing. You simply continued to move forward, eyes hanging onto Jungkook's for just a second longer until you lost yourself in the crowd, Jungkook's eyes following you like the big bad wolf himself. Spoiler alert: this is the version where the wolf eats little red up.

Jungkook had let out a puff of air through his nose, leaning over the railing until he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder, shaking him about until the arm hooked around his shoulders. Grinning widely at his frat brother, Namjoon, the pair made their way into the party, allowing him to quickly forget you until he saw you chilling on the counter in the kitchen, talking to his other frat brother, Jimin.

It only took Jungkook a clearing of his throat to have Jimin excuse himself quickly, leaving the kitchen to the two of you.

You boredly gave Jungkook your attention, swinging your legs lightly. "What? I came here to have fun, just like you said."

"If I knew you would do anything I told you, then I would've told you come naked and head straight for my room."

"Oh? Is that what it's really about then, Jeon? You want me all to yourself? Was your tiny ego a little bruised?"

Walking over, he placed his hands down on the counter on each side of you, leaning into you as he narrowed his eyes. You didn't even flinch.

"Good girls like you enter in here with unrealistic dreams and fantasies and walk out with a broken heart and an addiction."

"More like an STI." You snort.

"We get tested." Jungkook replies as if that's really the whole point.

"Good girls do bad things sometimes." You lean into your shoulder, looking up at him with big innocent eyes.

Jungkook looks down at your lips, which spread into a smile. "Have you ever thought about choking me, Jungkook?"

His eyes widen. He had, just not like you were implying, until now.

Satisfied by how speechless you left him, you slid off the counter, grazing against him as you were pressed up against each other. "Good, keep dreaming."

You threw him a tiny wave, leaving him heated, dick hard and somewhat wishing that you could just end his misery. Which you do, later on, but Jungkook didn't have time to think about that.

Jungkook realizes that he's now spent almost 10 minutes on the couch replaying the event in his head, the sound of a new notification catching his attention.

You: Don't forget you owe me.

You: Your choice $50 or $13K.

"What the hell?" Taehyung's voice from behind the couch startles Jungkook, having read your threatening text message on his way to the kitchen. "What kind of shit are you getting into?"

Jungkook swipes the notification away, eyes slanting Taehyung's way with no additional comment. Taehyung, too hungry to care, just stretches and leaves the room, leaving Jungkook to his little situation.

Jungkook: This is the weirdest booty call I've ever received.

You scoff, picking up your phone to angrily text back. Letting him know that you just wanted his ass over right away because the pill was only like 98% effective if taken in 24 hours or fewer. You probably should've headed straight to the store, but honestly, money was really tight. You had a part-time, but you had to cover your tuition, the rent, food, and everything else. Yeah, it was totally your fault for not remembering to use protection this time, but you were only human and you just got a little caught up.

"Bet Jungkook doesn't have to worry about money anyway," you mutter, tapping your nails on the counter while you waited. Jungkook probably had rich parents that paid everything for him, which explains his "I don't give a shit" attitude. Did he know how lucky he was to even get into the university? Well, actually he's lucky to get into one at all.

The front door opens and you get a flash of platinum silver hair as your frat brother/roommate struggles to bring something into the shared house. Your eyes widened, not realizing Yoongi was going to come home so early.

Yoongi pulls in a couple of grocery bags. "Oh? ___, why are you standing there? You almost gave me a heart attack."

You stand up, putting your hands into your - Taehyung's- hoodie. Oh, gosh, you're still wearing Taehyung's hoodie. "Oh- Um. I'm just waiting for Juli."

Yoongi closes the door, locking it before picking up his bags and taking it to the kitchen island. "Juli...? She's not coming home tonight. Did you forget that it's her sister's birthday?"

"That's right!" You snap your fingers. Yoongi only chuckles lightly at your reaction, dropping his eyes to the unfamiliar sweater. "That...is that a guys sweater?"

You nip your bottom lip, ready to vomit an explanation, but Yoongi just starts taking out his things, muttering to himself as he thinks out loud, "I saw that at H&M."

You feel something in the sweater's pocket, taking it out thinking it was a marker or something.

Both you and Yoongi's eyes widen.

His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, his finger pointing at you. "Hey! What are you doing with that? Isn't that for smoking? Is that what you do now? You smoke?"

"No! It's not mine-"

Yoongi scoffs, "That's what they all say..."

"No, seriously! It's-"

A loud knock on the door followed by a singing of your name rings out.

"___~! Oh, ___. Where for art thou, ___~"

Mortified by the sound of Jungkook's voice, you watch as Yoongi narrows his eyes at you, walking over to look at him through the peephole, Jungkook's eye taking up the complete view.

You run over and hug Yoongi, covering his mouth and whispering up to his ear. "Don't fucking tell Juli, you hear?"

He licks your hand, which you yank away, disgusted. When your phone rings, Jungkook pounds on the door.

"Hey! What game are you playing?" Jungkook yells, "I hear you right on the other side."

Quickly taking off your sweater, you throw it at Yoongi before telling him, "Please put this in my room. I'll explain later, I promise. Just don't tell, Juli."

Yoongi continues to stare at you a little hurt, his eyes picking up the hickeys on your neck when you take off the hoodie. He tries to give you a small little smile, one that doesn't give away that he's been crushing on you since middle school.

You quickly open the door and slip outside, Jungkook sneaking a look into the house a bit, not being discreet at all. You roll your eyes, poking the center of his forehead.

"Hey! It's something."

"You guys didn't get a house on the block?" He asks puzzled, following you to your car.

You stop in your tracks, leaning against the car. "No. We're not a social frat. We don't get a house. My friends and I split the rent for this."

Jungkook rubs his neck, "I see."

You nod. "Wanna take my car or yours?"

Jungkook licks his lips, nervously. "Uh, yours."

You roll your eyes, opening the door so you can climb in. "Of course, get in."

Jungkook quickly rushes over to the passenger side, barely giving you enough time to move the crap you have thrown onto the seat into the back. Snagging a zip-up sweater, you quickly put it on before getting a good look at Jungkook in the car. You can't help but laugh a little by how scrunched up he is in the seat. The passenger side was Juli's and she was a heck of a lot tinier than him.

"Jungkook, why don't you move the seat?"

His eyes grow round and for a second you think it's actually kind of adorable. "Where? How?"

You think it's a little weird, but then you remember you're driving a 2001 Nissan Sentra and not a luxury car of any sort.

"Like this, dummy." You lean over him, causing Jungkook to scoot back as much as he can, his hand tight on the assist grip.

You look up from underneath your eyelashes at him, causing all kinds of flashbacks to run through his mind. To his surprise, the seat jerks back.

"There." You lean back into your seat, turning the car on, and backing out of the driveway.

"Oh, and put your seatbelt on, I don't have insurance."

Jungkook and you were in your own heads the entire car ride, Jungkook just enjoying the sunset and you just thinking about your friends. Specifically, you were thinking about the situation with Yoongi and how you know that, that kid can't keep his mouth shut. He was going to tell Juli and then what? How would you explain the pen and hoodie? She didn't know what happened between you and Jungkook at that party, much less the school bathroom. What if it wasn't even that big of a deal? Sure, he dissed your frat in the quad, but nobody got hurt. She even said she would've gotten on her knees for him, so she can't be mad that you did. Well actually, you didn't. You owned him first.

Jungkook glances at you, who's got your eyebrows all pinned together, clearly a little stressed. You've got your finger trapped between your teeth, nervously chewing on your fingernail. His eyes travel to your hair that you've messily thrown up at a red light. He likes how a strand of hair has slipped out and framed your face. There was something about how casual you were in front of him that he liked. Most girls would've probably dressed over the top even though it was just a quick trip to the store.

"We're here."

He raises his eyebrows, rolling his head to look at the glowing red letters reading: TARGET.

"Wow, finally. I was starting to think you were just going to travel somewhere you could kill and dispose of my body."

"Ha. Ha. I just didn't want anyone catching us."

"Together?"

"No, silly. Buying Plan-B together."

Jungkook slowly starts to smile wide. "Can you imagine if Dr. Lim saw us together?"

You snort, cracking a grin as well. "She'd probably be like 'I fucking knew it'."

The two of you walked into Target as if you did this every weekend, Jungkook grabbing a cart to scooter throughout the store. Instead of heading straight for the aisle with the pill, you both came to an agreement that you should probably buy a couple of other stuff and come to the aisle-that-should-not-be-named last. After looping around twice, you ended up with a couple of bags of chips, a liter of soda, a couple of skincare products, and some detergent.

"There, now it'll look like we just threw the pill into our casual shopping." You say, pretty pleased.

"Uhuh, so do you know where the pill is? Is it by the medicine?"

You grab onto the car, wheeling it in the direction you want it to go, Jungkook on the other end, pushing. "It's by the condoms. Something you would know if you used them."

Jungkook grunts, "I use condoms! I don't actively look for the pills. Besides, they're free at the wellness center. You've had to be pretty stupid to actually buy them. Oh wai-"

You shove the cart back, Jungkook letting out an "oof!" when it bangs against him.

"Some of us have dignity and pride." You mutter through your teeth. "How can you grab them with the lady at the front staring daggers at you?"

Jungkook shrugs, never really thinking about that. "You get used to it after the 100th time."

The number makes your head pound, Jungkook smirking as he watches your reaction. "Was I your first~?"

"What? No, if you were my first I wouldn't be performing acrobatics on your dick, stupid."

"Hm, okay, okay. Then I'm just among the few that you've done it with."

You close your lips, staring at his smug face before shoving the cart against him and walking away.

He was right, you only have had sex with a couple of people. But that was only because all of them turned into relationships and your relationships lasted a while. You weren't sure why it bothered you only now realizing that Jungkook's body count was higher. It's not like the two of you were going to get involved in any way. It most likely just stemmed from jealousy. Jealousy that Jungkook was out having fun with all these people, while you had wasted your time on relationships.

Turning into the aisle, you freeze in your spot upon laying eyes on someone that you haven't in a while. You almost wanted to double over in laughter because it was too much of a coincidence.

Standing right there near the pregnancy tests was your biggest waste of time/ex-boyfriend. Oh, and he also brought a friend: a tiny ash-blonde chick whose highlighted hair tells you she's got her life together. You thought about how if you turned around now, he wouldn't even see you. You'll just grab Jungkook, say that you forgot to grab something, then loop back in a couple of minutes.

Just as you take a step back, Jungkook emerges into the aisle, trapping you in. "Ha!"

Frick. You shut your eyes and press your lips together.

Jin turns around at the sound of the crash, surprised to see you after a year and a half. Funny how when you broke up, you guys weren't necessarily on bad terms, but it just ended up growing into this mutual hatred over time. The reason you two broke up was that you were busy and so was he, your schedules never syncing together. He initiated the breakup, and you were against it. Having given him 2 years, you weren't ready to let go.

"It really is you," Jin says, his girlfriend peeking from behind him. "Wow, how have you been?"

How have you been? You straighten yourself up, giving him a tight smile, "Good, things have been good."

Jungkook stares between you and Jin, reading the situation. Jin suddenly shifts his eyes over to him, smiling, holding no sincerity behind it.

"Glad to hear it. I was worried that you'd never get your life together."

Your heart dropped, suddenly remembering how Jin told people that you were an unorganized mess and that's why you never could find time for him.

Walking up to you him, you look up into his eyes, "Talking like that in front of your girlfriend? Wow, she must feel like she really picked a winner."

Looking at the pregnancy test in her hand, you smile at her. "Better hope that's negative."

Without another word, you hurry away, fuming and hating how embarrassed you felt that Jungkook witnessed the whole thing.

Jungkook quickly pushed the cart, following after you, but not before quickly snagging Plan B off the shelf, eyes narrowing at Jin as he did so.

It took him a couple of aisles until he found you standing in one, wiping the tears from your eyes aggressively, clueing Jungkook that you probably didn't want to be seen crying. Leaning against the outer shelf, he waits for you, giving you some privacy.

When you walk out, you lock eyes with Jungkook's who starts digging in his pockets.

"Oh, there you are! I was just starting to call-"

"I'm fine now. I'm not going to worry about him anymore."

Jungkook grins, scrunching his nose up, "Good because I'm going to make you cry ten times harder."

Leaning into you, he whispers, "If you know what I mean."

You gasp, shoving him lightly before heading towards the cash registers, Jungkook laughing as he follows behind.

"Fuuuck you and you and youuu~  I hate your friends and they hate me too~"

You and Jungkook sing while laying on your bed, drunk out of your minds. Both of you have your arms stretched up to the ceiling, flailing them around as you dance and sing your heart out.

Yoongi had texted you he was going to pull an all-nighter at the library, studying for an exam so you thankfully had the whole place to yourself, allowing you and Jungkook to get comfortable. For you, that meant putting on a baggy t-shirt and pajama shorts and for Jungkook that meant to strip down to his boxers and chill in just his shirt.

Sitting up, you look down at Jungkook who's face is flush pink because of the alcohol consumed. He gives you a sloppy and cheesy grin, one that causes your heart to unexpectedly jump around, something that he's probably done to hundreds of other girls. The only difference between them and you was that you were smart enough to not think too much of it. Instead, you consider it emotional foreplay. There was nothing wrong with letting your heart flip and fantasizing about things that couldn't be as long as you knew at the end that it was only to get you off and nothing else.

"You know what would make this sooo much better?" Jungkook sits up with you, bonking into your head.

"Ow!" You rub your forehead. "What?"

"This." He pulls you into his lap, his eyes drooping seductively as he helps you straddle him.

As you move in closer, your eyes remain locked onto his as if waiting for him to reveal he was kidding. Deep down, you both knew that it was wrong to get involved again, yet at the same time, it was hard to stop.

Feeling him underneath you, a spark travels up your body because of the sensitivity, the thin clothing not helping. Jungkook leans back against the headboard, hands traveling to your hips as he guides you to move them. He doesn't know what got into him, but he partly blames becoming horny after drinking too much.

Grinding down on him, your lips part to let out your uneven breathing. Jungkook starts to meet your grinds, your eyes going from looking at each other to suddenly watching below as you sped up, humping each other for pleasure. The only thing you could concentrate on was how good it felt and how dizzy you were becoming.

You jerk your hand to hold on to the headboard, flashbacks of the party reminding you how much better it would feel to have Jungkook actually inside of you. You wanted to just strip and jump on his cock again, but you controlled the urge, reminding yourself how much fun it is to be a tease.

"Fuck," Jungkook whispers with a sharp tongue. His movements were now overtaking your own, his grinds practically lifting your hips up higher as he grew more desperate, him too wanting to get rid of your clothing.

You smile, pleased that you had the upper-hand in the situation, your mind already coming up with the millions of ways to tease him, the very thought causing your core to drip. Feeling yourself almost on the brink of an orgasm, you hop off of Jungkook. Leaning back against the pillow, you quickly slide off your underwear and shorts in a hurry, kicking them off to then spread about your legs for Jungkook.

Shocked, Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair, watching you with jaw slightly dropped. Staring intensely at him, you bring down your hand to rub your coated core before focusing on rubbing circles on your clit, throwing your head back to hiss in bliss. Pleasing yourself felt so good, but knowing that Jungkook was watching you do it caused a pleasing knot in your stomach.

Jungkook was hard, like ready-to-bust hard. Watching your expression, Jungkook couldn't help but think about how sexy you looked and how he's really lucky to have messed with you. Good girls can do bad things sometimes, he had to remind himself (though, he's starting to think that good girls are just bad girls who haven't been caught). Right now, you were a real-life fantasy, and he knows now that this is something that no sext could ever accomplish for him.

"J-Jungkook," You intensely locked eyes with him, panting, "Have you had a girl orgasm on your face?"

Fuck. Jungkook shook his head, taking your hands moving from your pussy as an invitation to let his head between your legs. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his eyes closing as he smells your sweet arousal, your fingers threading through his hair to give it a firm tug.

"D-don't screw it up," you warned, your heart rate speeding up by the hot breaths against your pussy, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

Jungkook only moaned in response to the tug of his hair, diving right in by letting his tongue explore every inch of your cunt, letting you know how much he enjoyed giving head as he did receiving it. You sunk into the feeling, bucking your hips up as he delivers a kiss near your clit, a total teasing move that drove you wild. You wanted to keep your mewls in control, however, that was something that you really couldn't keep a secret from Jungkook. Grabbing a pillow, you use it to muffle your moans, hoping that the neighbors wouldn't assume somebody was being destroyed in any other fashion.

With the flat of his tongue, Jungkook delivers a long lick against your slit, causing your legs to tremble as you drawled out his name, "Jungkook!"

Reaching up, Jungkook fists the pillow that you have trapped in your hands, throwing it aside to let you know how displeased he is with the fact that you were drowning out your moans. He didn't care who heard and part of him getting off is knowing that others could hear your cries as he makes a mess out of you.

Getting a good taste of the juices that heavily flood out your cunt, Jungkook groans purposefully with pleasure. "Shit, your pussy tastes so sweet." He breathes against you, causing you to lift your hips again, trying to get him to place his tongue on your now aching and throbbing bud of nerves. "Damn, babygirl~"

"P-Please!" You practically sob, wanting your sweet release, already fearing how explosive it would be as it set through your body.

Jungkook pulls away slightly, loving how much the folds glistened as a result of how much you were dripping, your vagina clenching, letting him know that you were desiring to be filled up with. Imagining how pretty it would look with his cum spilling out of it, he bit down hard on his lip, his erection evident as he straightens up to throw off his shirt. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, he toys with your clit, pleased by how much you write in tune with your sounds of pleasure. Teasing the bud over and over, you wrap your legs around his head tightly, wanting more pressure to send you over the edge.

Panting erratically, you produce the sexiest cry that Jungkook's ever heard, and that's a major compliment from someone who now has to get to page 100 on Pornhub for a good video. Arching your back, you give Jungkook's locks a strong tug to which his cock twitches, swollen and eager for a touch. He would touch himself in a bit, but right now he was determined to make you cum by his tongue alone, a first for him since he normally doesn't eat a girl out.

"Fu..." Your breath strains, your head completely thrown back and jaw slack.

Jungkook quickly pulls away, your juices dripping down his chin as he watches your pussy quiver, your whole body trembling as you hands fist the bedsheets. You were almost there and the fire in Jungkook's eyes was clear as he admired your face, his hand sliding his boxers down as he freed his hard rod, his hand wrapping around his girth, stroking as he watches you orgasm.

"Oh~" You sigh with a euphoric smile after catching your breath, feeling the calm take over your body as you lay down in exhaustion, giggling slightly. You've never had a strong orgasm from head alone (though your past boyfriends weren't that determined).

You notice that Jungkook has already reached into his boxers, looking at you as he tends to his hard muscle in long lazy strokes. Letting out a quiet moan of relief, you realize that he's  probably been aching this whole time, yet he didn't complain one bit, instead focused on your satisfaction. This causes a blush to rise to your cheeks, appreciative of the fact.

"Take your shirt off." He commands, voice deep, continuing to fondle himself.

You obey, slowly taking it off before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, slipping it off to allow your boobs to be on full display, the nipples pointy just from Jungkook's strong gaze. He looked so hot right now, getting off by just admiring you, it set your ego through the roof.

"Are you going to cum on these, Jungkook?" You playfully cup them, squeezing them and moaning lightly.

"Or are you going to cum here?" You stick your tongue out, leaning forward as you open your mouth for him.

"Fuck, ___," He breathes, his sweaty fringe falling over his eyes, his thumb rubbing over the base of his head, before twisting his wrist to keep stroking the full length of his dick.

"Hmm, what if I decide not to let you~," You tease with new confidence.

"Please," he begs, his hand speeding up.

"No, I'm a good girl, remember." You bat your eyelashes his way, a smirk on your face.

Jungkook growls lowly, his hand tugging on the back of your hair as punishment, causing you to let out a pleased sigh, looking at his eyes, daring for him to do it again.

There it was. The challenge that Jungkook loved so much.

Crawling over you , you have no choice but to lie down on your back, biting on your lip as you look up at him. "What are you going to do to me, Jeon?"

Jungkook looks down at you, his necklace dangling over you, your finger going up to entwine it. You give him a tug, Jungkook's hand going to the side of you as he stops himself from crushing down on you. Your lips hover over each other and you think about kissing him, but you don't. If you were to do so, you would cross a line.

You feel Jungkook's breath over your lips, but only for a short while before he turns his head to the side, sitting up again. You let out a breath that you didn't realize you were holding in.

Jungkook traces your lips with his thumb, pulling down your bottom lip slightly. "You're such a fucking tease."

Before taking it into your mouth, you give him a smile, mouthing "choke me, you won't". Jungkook smirks letting you suck on his finger while your eyes remained set on each other. He curses before finally wrapping his hand around your neck which causes your lids to flutter close, your lips parting as he spreads your legs and guides his cock into you. Surprised, you gasp, your heart flipping by the fullness between your legs, the surge running through your body again.

"I'll do more than just choke you," Jungkook whispers into your ear, starting to move his hips to thrust into you, burying his cock deep each time. You gasp, throwing your head back slightly, as he starts ramming inside of you. You clench around him tightly, Jungkook letting a "shit" slip past his lips as he releases his hand from your neck, placing his forearm on the side of you as he pumps into you faster, concentrating on his release.  Hearing his ragged breaths, you know he's close so you wrap your legs around him, a string of satisfied mewls spilling past your lips, mostly to just get him off.

It only takes him a couple of strokes more before he pulls out, fingers wrapping around your chin as he pulls you forward, commanding with his eyes for you to open your mouth. You do, looking up at him as he fills up your mouth with his cum. You try not to gag as it hits the back of your throat, but it's hard when your mouth becomes overfilled, the cum dripping out.

"Swallow like a good girl~" Jungkook teases, chest heavily rising and falling as he looks down at you.

You swallow, opening your mouth to show him your tongue.

Weakened by the satisfaction, Jungkook lays down beside you, throwing his arm over his eyes, busy trying to catch his breath.

You shudder playfully, "Ugh, salty."

"Shut up," he grins.

You lay down beside him, staring at his face. To your surprise, Jungkook rolls his head over as well, turning his body towards you.

"Jungkook?"

"Hm?"

"Why are we doing this?"

Jungkook chuckles, slightly sleepy, struggling to keep his eyelids open, "For the hell of it?"

You smile a little, a hint of sadness to your tone, "Well, it's got to stop."

He scrunches his nose up, "Does it?"

You nod.

"Why?" He whispers, eyes closing for a bit before opening slowly. "Can this last a little longer?"

Bringing up your hand to his face, you gently close his eyelids one by one. After a few seconds, you realize that Jungkook had fallen asleep.

Slipping out of bed, you head to the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and get ready for bed. As you did, you thought about how Jungkook wanted to keep whatever kind of relationship you guys had going. Did he mean like a friend with benefits thing? Like a secret? A whenever-I-feel-like it thing? or possibly a relationship?

The last one was laughable, you'll admit. How ironic would it be if you wanted something no strings attached, and he wanted to pursue a relationship? It didn't matter because you weren't going to ask him any of it since it didn't make a difference. You weren't going to get in any kind of relationship with anybody soon. You wanted to explore and protect your heart a little longer.

After all, you could only tame a bad boy for so long before they revert to their habits.

Returning to bed, you pull the covers over Jungkook before climbing on top of the blanket, sleeping an arm's length away, knowing that in a few hours, he wouldn't even be there.

Jungkook awoke to the sound of someone coming into the house. His eyes sprung open, heart skipping a beat as he heard a voice calling for you.

"___, I brought breakfast. Are you up? Sheesh, it's already 11."

Jungkook leans his head forward in surprise, tapping his phone on the nightstand to confirm that it's indeed 11.

Fuck.

He didn't know what to do in this situation. Usually girls were the ones who were leaving his place, now it just felt weird that he had to.

Jungkook tried to elbow you awake, but you only rolled over, falling back asleep. Seriously?

"__," Yoongi called again, his hand going to your door knob.

Jungkook quickly lept up, leaning against the door to prevent it from opening.

"Are you mad? I didn't tell Juli, you know. I know you think I tell her everything, but you should know that you and I were friends first, okay?"

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, confused by what you and Yoongi could have possibly been talking about before.

"I left the sweater behind the door...Just...just come out and explain everything when you're ready, alright? I'll be in my room."

Sweater?

Jungkook leaned off the door, flipping through all the hoodies on the hook. He wasn't sure he would understand what Yoongi meant by it, but curiosity got to him. He stopped once his hand got placed on a familiar gray one. It can't be...

"Can't get high, I left my weed pen in my sweater."

Jungkook quickly searched the pockets, closing his eyes once he felt the familiar shape of Taehyung’s weed oil pen. Taking it out, his heart sinks at the sight of it.

"Where's your sweater?"

"With my girl."

Jungkook's jaw dropped, scoffing.

Taehyung was there. Taehyung watched as Jungkook threw the invitation your way. Taehyung saw Jungkook take you up those stairs to his bedroom. Taehyung fucking knew.

He knew you were off limits.

Yet something happened between you two and everyone seemed to know, except Jungkook who was left in the dark.

Seething, Jungkook took the pen, quickly getting dressed as he stared at you on the bed, knowing he was right after all.

There are no good girls, only bad girls that haven't been caught.

And you?

You've been busted.

___________________

Author's note;;

I cannot believe the response I’ve been getting for this fic on here!! Thank you all for reading this and I hope that I won’t disappoint. Fun fact, this chapter already has four parts out and there was like 2 years between parts 3 and 4 LOL It’s cross posted on AO3 as well.

NEXT CHAPTER > 

[danidrabbles]

OCTOBER 8: SPANKING

Notes: Since I’m on a bit of a streak with doing things differently this week, I’m posting a little piece where you won’t really know who it’s about until you get a suspicion though the description / until his name is mentioned. Fun, right? (It will be, trust me). If you like reading Pedro characters—or just my writing!—you might enjoy this one, because it’s one of them!

Pairing: Like I said, it’s a surprise 🤫, but it’s x (secretary) f!reader!

Rating: Explicit (18+!)

Word count: 1k-ish

Warnings: well. spanking of course (f receiving), dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, a smidge of degradation, perhaps this is slightly OOC but you know what this is my fic and I make the rules, bit of power dynamics because it’s a boss/employee type of relationship, therefore also dub-con (ish). Let me know if I forgot anything!

--

“Six,” you grit out, voice gone breathy and soft. You brace your hands against the desk under you, fingernails all but digging into the polished wood to prepare yourself for the next hit.

This is anything but what you imagined when you walked into the impressive building for a job interview months ago. The office building’s more like a museum from the outside; columns of brick, high towers, the amber colours atop the entrance gleaming with potential in the sun. The architecture made you feel… prestigious, even despite the small size of the actual company; it was up and coming, and it made you eager, intrigued, willing to come along for the ride and the rise to what felt like certain prosperity.

You’d accepted the secretary position as soon as he offered it to you. 

No, this came later. This is the result of a late night at the office, where you’d both been longing for some company. It’s such a fucking cliché, the boss and his secretary, but it felt right at the time. It felt right all the times after.

But as much as the company grew over time—fame, investment opportunities around the globe, money—your relationship with him remained the same as at that particular night. And mostly, it’s thanks to him. Fame changed him, made a once honest man smug, sly, slimy; someone who enjoyed a sharp edge to his love. It’s then that you decided: your arrangement was—and would stay—that of an equally beneficial exchange.

Give, take.

Eb, flow.

Catch, release.

And today, it was certainly release.

You’d protested when he made clear he wanted to do this, needed this, to take his mind off the important meeting he had at the beginning of the afternoon. In exchange, he promised to make it worth your while, that he wouldn’t be the only one getting off. Which, given the day you were having, sounded fair at the time, but you’re not so sure, now...

“You’re so wet,” he chuckles from behind you, two thick fingers gliding through the slick that coats the inside of your thighs. He uses it to rub between your soaked folds, dipping his fingertips inside and giving you a few seconds of relief. The sound of his hand passing over his cock only gets louder and louder... until he lifts his hand and brings it down, hard, flat, between your legs.

With a cry, you rise up on your toes, your pussy tingling with the sting of it and clenching around nothing as another rush of wetness dribbles from your entrance to coat your thighs. You swear you can hear it land on the floor with a quick drip-drip, and another chuckle confirms your suspicion.

“How am I gonna explain this to our guests later, hmm?” he asks, his hand smoothing over the skin of one of your flaming cheeks. “Maybe I should just tell them how my secretary’s cunt made a dripping mess all over the carpet because I was spanking her ass.”

His words make your legs wobble, face heating at the idea of him talking to other people about you like that. Because he had half the mind—if not more—to actually do it.

“Don’t forget to count,” he warns with a squeeze of his hand, making another whimper fall from your lips. “Would hate to have to start over again, I might actually break skin.”

The sound you make in response is a pathetic one—the reminder of how you’d lost count when he reached nine a couple minutes ago making you burn with shame.

“Seven,” comes your hurried reply.

He doesn’t give you time to recover, his hand hitting your ass again, and you sob, the desperate sound echoing far louder than that of his actions. The bastard switched to his left hand, and you have no doubt the ring he wore on his pinky is now imprinted on your skin.

“E-Eight,” you grit out.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, a fingertip fluttering over the particularly tender spot, and you suppose he’s not asking because he actually cares about how you’re feeling.

“Yes,” you huff. “I just want—”

“I know what you want,” he says. His voice sounds soothing, but his actions reflect none of that when he brings his hand down on your other cheek to leave another mark. “I know,” he repeats when you pant out a nine.

“Maxw–,” you begin, but before you can even continue his name, start your plea, he spanks you again. “Ten!” you yelp. “Oh, my god, ten, please, you promised–”

“I know,” he says, sounding slightly annoyed that you’d think he’d break his promise. “I’ll give it to you.”

The office chair creaks behind you as his thumb and forefinger spread your pussy. Wordlessly, he kicks your feet further apart, before sliding himself into you in one, smooth stroke. At his groan, you go lax against the wood, hips ramming painfully into the desk beneath you at his first thrust. Big hands palm your sore ass, sliding under the straps that hold your stockings up. He spreads you open, sliding in that extra bit, filling you completely, before one hand leaves you there to tangle in your hair. With a sharp tug, he forces you to look up, your eyes slipping in and out of focus as you look at the door to his office.

“They’re waiting out there,” he mutters, his lips a humid press against your ear when he leans over you, a blond lock of his hair tickling your temple. “Let’s put on a show for them.”

The statement—positively lacking question—makes you notice the muted sounds of conversation from the hallway. You glance at the clock next to the glimmering Black Gold Cooperative logo on the wall, and it’s then that you notice that your forgetfulness earlier is making you late: His afternoon appointment is here.

You’re pretty sure they can see your silhouette bobbing back and forth on top of the desk through the glass panels next to the door, that they can hear the sound of your voice begging for him to fuck you… Something bubbles in your stomach, and to your surprise, it’s not aversion. It’s something else, something that makes you wet.

“Yeah,” you pant, leaning up on your palms as he saws into you with another punishing thrust. “Yeah, let’s put on a show for them.”

And as you snap your hips back against his, as you reach behind you to hold him at the back of his neck when he kisses your shoulder, you suppose success has changed you, too.

--

Thank you for reading! I hope that was okay... Tomorrow is another wildcard. I know! A non-Pedro character is coming up for October 9: Gun Play. Maybe you can guess who he is... If you guess correctly, I will send you a sneak peek at the fic in your DMs 😌 Hope to see you tomorrow!

Taglist | Sign up HERE.

@javier-pena, @highsviolets, @frannyzooey, @silksaddle, @pedrostories, @artsymaddie, @doin-stuff, @jettia, @amneris21, @readsalot73, @mswarriorbabe80, @queen-sands, @javierpinme, @flyovertheandesman, @honestly-shite, @buckeyegirl419 , @tintinn16, @littlemisspascal, @maxwell--lord , @thisshipwillsail316, @astoryisaloveaffair, @thisisthewayyy, @barnes-and-bitch, @peoniarose, @hocuschlocus​, @maievdenoir​

(If you want to be removed, shoot me a message!)